blood came. His eyes glittered and there were hectic flushes on his cheeks. Myshkin murmured something to him, but Ippolit made no reply, and for a long time could only motion to Myshkin to let him alone. At last he came to himself.
“I’m going!” he pronounced, with an effort at last, and with a husky voice.
“I’ll go with you if you like,” said Myshkin, getting up from his seat and suddenly stopping short, as he recalled that he had been forbidden to leave the house.
Ippolit laughed.
“I’m not going away from you,” he went on, continually gasping and coughing, “on the contrary, I found it necessary to come to you and about something important … but for which I would not have disturbed you. I’m going over yonder, and this time I believe I really am going. It’s all up! I haven’t come for sympathy, believe me … I lay down at ten o’clock to-day meaning not to get up again till the time came. But you see I changed my mind and got up once more to come to you … so you see I had to.”
“It grieves me to look at you. \bu’d better have sent for me instead of troubling to come here.”
“Well, that’s enough. You’ve expressed your regret and enough to satisfy the requirements of politeness. … But I forgot: how are you yourself?”
“I’m all right. Yesterday I was … not quite …”
“I know, I know, the Chinese vase had the worst of it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there! I’ve come about something. In the first place, I’ve had the pleasure today of seeing Gavril Ardalionovitch at a tryst with Aglaia Ivanovna on the green seat. I was astonished to see how stupid a man can look. I remarked upon it to Aglaia Ivanovna, when Gavril Ardalionovitch had gone. . . . You seem not to be surprised at anything, prince,” he added, looking mistrustfully at Myshkin’s calm face. “To be surprised at nothing, they say, is a sign of great intelligence. To my mind, it might quite as well be a sign of great stupidity . . . But I don’t mean that for you, excuse me … I am very unfortunate in my expressions to-day.”
“I knew yesterday that Gavril Ardalionovitch …”
Myshkin broke off, obviously confused, though Ippolit was annoyed at his not being surprised.
“You knew it! That’s something new! But don’t tell me about it. . . . “Vbu weren’t a witness of the interview to-day, I suppose?”
“You saw that I was not there, since you were there yourself.”
“Oh, you may have been sitting behind a bush somewhere. But I’m glad, for your sake, of course, for I was beginning to think that Gavril Ardalionovitch — was the favourite.”
“I beg you not to speak of this to me, Ippolit, and in such terms.”
“Especially since you know all about it already.”
“You are mistaken, I know hardly anything about it, and Aglaia Ivanovna knows for a fact that I know nothing about it. I knew nothing about their meeting, really. \bu say there’s been a meeting between them? Very well then, let us leave the subject….”
“But how’s this? One minute you know, the next you don’t. You say, ‘very well and let us leave it.’ But look here, don’t be so trustful! Especially if you don’t know anything about it. \bu are trustful because you don’t know anything about it. And do you know what those two, the brother and sister, are scheming for? Perhaps you suspect that? Very well, very well, I’ll drop it,” he added, noticing an impatient gesture from Myshkin. “Well, I’ve come about my own affairs and I want to . . . explain about it. Damn it all, one can’t die without explanations. It’s awful how much I explain. Do you care to hear?”
“Speak, I’m listening.”
“But I’m changing my opinion again, though, I’ll begin with Ganya, all the same. Would you believe it that I had an appointment at the green seat to-day, too? I don’t want to tell a lie, though. I insisted on an interview myself, I begged for it, I promised to reveal a secret. I don’t know whether I came too early (I believe I really was early), but I had no sooner sat down beside Aglaia Ivanovna, when I saw Gavril Ardalionovitch and Varvara Ardalionovna coming along, arm in arm, as though they were out for a walk. They both seemed very much amazed at meeting me. It was so unexpected that they were quite taken aback. Aglaia Ivanovna flushed crimson, and you may not believe it, but she was rather disconcerted, whether because I was there or simply at the sight of Gavril Ardalionovitch — you know what a beauty he is — anyway she turned crimson, and ended it all in a second, very absurdly. She got up, answered Gavril Ardalionovitch’s bow, and Varvara Ardalionovna’s ingratiating smile, and suddenly rapped out: ‘I’ve only come to express in person my pleasure at your sincere and friendly feelings, and if I am in need of them, believe me . . .’ Then she turned awav and the two went off — I don’t know whether like fools or in triumph — Ganya, of course, a fool. He couldn’t make out a word, and turned as red as a lobster (he has an extraordinary expression of face sometimes). But Varvara Ardalionovna seemed to understand that they must make their escape as quickly as possible, and that this was quite enough from Aglaia Ivanovna, and she drew her brother away. She’s cleverer than he is and I’ve no doubt she’s triumphant now. I came to Aglaia Ivanovna to make arrangements about a meeting with Nastasya Filippovna.”
“With Nastasya Filippovna,” cried Myshkin.
“Aha! You seem to be losing your indifference and beginning to be surprised. I’m glad that you’re ready to be like a human being at last. I’ll comfort you for that. This is what comes of serving a young lady of lofty soul. I got a slap in the face from her to-day.”
“Morally speaking?” Myshkin could not help asking.
“Yes, not physically. I don’t think anyone would raise a hand against a creature like me, even a woman would not strike me now. Even Ganya wouldn’t strike me! Though I did think he was going to fly at me at one time yesterday. … I’ll bet you anything I know what you’re thinking about now. “Vbu’re thinking, ‘he mustn’t be beaten of course, but he might be smothered with a pillow or a wet cloth in his sleep — in fact one ought to. . . .’ It’s written on your face that you’re thinking that at this very second.”
“I’ve never thought of such a thing,” Myshkin answered with disgust.
“I don’t know, I dreamt last night that I was smothered with a wet cloth by … a man. . . . I’ll tell you who it was — Rogozhin! What do you think? Could a man be smothered with a wet cloth?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ve heard that it can be done. Very well, we’ll drop it. Come, why am I a slanderer? Why did she accuse me of being a slanderer to-day? And take note, it was after she’d heard every word I had to say, and questioned me, too. .. . But that’s just like a woman! For her sake I’ve got into communication with Rogozhin, an interesting person. In her interests I have arranged a personal interview with Nastasya Filippovna for her. Was it because I wounded her vanity by hinting that she enjoyed Nastasya Filippovna’s ‘leavings’? Yes, I did try to impress that upon her all the time in her interest, I don’t deny it. I wrote her two letters in that strain, and to-day for the third time, at our interview … I began by telling her that it was humiliating for her. . . . Though the word ‘leavings’ wasn’t mine, but some one else’s. At Ganya’s, anyway, everybody was saying it, and indeed she repeated it herself. So how can she call me a slanderer? I see, I see, it’s very amusing for you to look at me now, and I bet you’re applying those stupid verses to me:
‘And on the gloom of my declining hour Perchance the farewell smile of love may shine.’
“Ha-ha-ha!” He went off into an hysterical laugh. “Mark,” he gasped through a fit of coughing, “what a fellow Ganya is, he talks about ‘leavings’ and what does he want to take advantage of himself now!”
For a long while Myshkin was silent. He was horrorstruck.
“You spoke of an interview with Nastasya Filippovna,” he murmured at last.
“Hey, are you really unaware that Aglaia Ivanovna is going to meet Nastasya Filippovna to-day? And that for that purpose Nastasya Filippovna has been brought, through Rogozhin, from Petersburg, at an invitation of Aglaia Ivanovna and by my efforts, is now staying with Rogozhin, where she stayed before, very near you, in the house of that woman . .. Darya Alexeyevna … a very dubious lady, a friend of hers, and to that very doubtful house Aglaia Ivanovna is going to-day to have a friendly conversation with Nastasya Filippovna, and to decide various problems. They want to work at arithmetic. Didn’t you know it? Honour bright?”
“That’s incredible!”
“Well, that’s all right if it’s incredible. But how could you know? Though this is such a place, if a fly buzzes every one knows of it. But I’ve warned you, and you may be grateful to me. Well, till we meet again — in the next world probably. But another thing: though I have been a cad to you, because .