Myshkin finished suddenly, seeming all at once to recollect himself. He blushed, becoming conscious of the sort of people in whose presence he was saying this.
Ptitsvn bent his head and looked on the qround,
abashed. Totsky thought to himself, “He is an idiot, but he knows that flattery is the best way to get at people; it’s instinct!” Myshkin noticed too in the corner Ganya’s eyes glaring at him, as though they would wither him up.
“There’s a kind-hearted man!” Darya Alexeyevna pronounced, much touched.
“A man of refinement, but doomed to ruin,” the general whispered in an undertone.
Totsky took his hat and was about to get up and slip away. He and the general glanced at one another, meaning to leave together.
“Thank you, prince. No one has ever talked to me like that before,” said Nastasya Filippovna. “They’ve always been trying to buy me, but no decent man has ever thought of marrying me. Did you hear, Afanasy Ivanovitch? What did you think of all the prince said? It was almost improper, don’t you think . . . Rogozhin, don’t go away yet! But you are not going, I see. Perhaps I shall come with you after all. Where did you mean to take me?”
“To Ekaterinhof,” Lebedyev reported from the corner. Rogozhin simply started and gazed open-
eyed at her, as though he could not believe his senses. He was completely stupefied, as though he had had a violent blow on the head.
“What are you thinking about, my dear? “Vbu really are ill. Have you taken leave of your senses?” cried Darya Alexeyevna, alarmed.
“Did you really think I meant it?” laughed Nastasya Filippovna, jumping up from the sofa. “Ruin a child like that? That’s more in Afanasy Ivanovitch’s line: he is fond of children! Come along, Rogozhin! Get your money ready! Never mind about wanting to marry me, let me have the money all the same. Perhaps I shan’t marry you after all. “fou thought if you married me, you’d keep your money? A likely idea! I am a shameless hussy! I’ve been Totsky’s concubine. . . . “Vbu ought to marry Aglaia Epanchin now, prince, instead of Nastasya Filippovna, or you’ll have Ferdyshtchenko pointing the finger of scorn at you! “Vbu may not be afraid, but I shall be afraid of ruining you, and of your reproaching me with it afterwards. As for your saying that I am doing you an honour, Totsky knows all about that. And you’ve just missed Aglaia Epanchin, Ganya, do you know? If you hadn’t haggled with her, she would have married you. “Vbu are all like that; you should make your choice once for all — disreputable women or respectable ones! Or you are sure to get mixed. … I say, the general is staring; his mouth is open.”
“This is Sodom — Sodom!” said the general, shrugging his shoulders.
He too got up from the sofa. Every one stood up again. Nastasya Filippovna seemed in a perfect frenzy.
“Is it possible?” moaned Myshkin, wringing his hands.
“Did you think I meant it? I am proud myself, perhaps, although I am a shameless hussy. \bu called me perfection this evening; a fine sort of perfection who, simply to boast of trampling on a million and a princedom, is going into the gutter! What sort of wife should I make you after that? Afanasy Ivanovitch, I really have flung away a million, you know! How could you think I should be glad to marry Ganya for the sake of your seventy-five thousand? \bu can take back your seventy-five thousand, Afanasy Ivanovitch. You didn’t rise to a hundred; Rogozhin has cut you out. I’ll comfort Ganya myself! I’ve thought how to. But now I want some fun,
I’m a street wench! I’ve been ten years in prison, now I’m going to enjoy myself. Come, Rogozhin, get ready, let’s go!”
“Let’s go!” roared Rogozhin, almost frantic with delight. “Hey, you, wine! Ough!”
“Have plenty of wine ready, I want to drink. And will there be music?”
“Yes, yes. Don’t go near her!” cried Rogozhin frantically, seeing Darya Alexeyevna approaching Nastasya Filippovna. “She is mine! It’s all mine! My queen! It’s the end!”
He was gasping with joy. He walked round Nastasya Filippovna, shouting to every one, “Don’t come near her!” His whole retinue had by now flocked into the drawing-room. Some were drinking, some were shouting and laughing, all were in the greatest excitement and completely at their ease. Ferdyshtchenko began trying to fraternise with them. General Epanchin and Totsky again attempted to effect a hasty retreat. Ganya too had his hat in his hand, but he stood in silence and still seemed unable to tear himself away from the scene before him.
“Don’t come near her!” cried Roqozhin.
“Why are you bellowing?” Nastasya Filippovna laughed at him. “I am still the mistress here; if I like, I can still kick you out. I haven’t taken your money yet, there it lies still; give it here, the whole bundle! Is there a hundred thousand in that bundle? Ough, how nasty! What’s the matter with you, Darya Alexeyevna? Would you have had me ruin him?” — she pointed to Myshkin. “How can he be married? He wants a nurse to look after him. The general there will be his nurse; see how he is hanging upon him! Look, prince, your betrothed takes the money because she is a low woman, and you wanted to marry her! But why are you crying? Are you sorry? “Vbu ought to laugh as I do.” — Nastasya Filippovna went on, though there were two large tears glistening on her cheeks.— “Trust to time; it will all pass! Better to think twice now than after. . . . But why are you all crying? Here’s Katya crying too! What’s the matter with you, Katya dear? I’ll leave a lot to you and Pasha, I’ve settled it already; and now good-bye! I’ve made an honest girl like you wait on a low creature like me. … It’s better so, prince, it’s really better; you’d have despised me later on, and we should not have been happy. Don’t swear, I don’t believe it! And how stupid it would have been! .. . No, better part as friends, or no good would have come of it, for I am something of a dreamer myself, you know. Haven’t I dreamed of you myself? You are right, I dreamed of you long ago, when I lived five years all alone in his country home. I used to think and dream, think and dream, and I was always imagining some one like you, kind, good and honest, and so stupid that he would come forward all of a sudden and say, ‘\bu are not to blame, Nastasya Filippovna, and I adore you.’ I used to dream like that, till I nearly went out of my mind. . . . And then this man would come, stay two months in the year, bringing shame, dishonour, corruption, degradation, and go away. So that a thousand times I wanted to fling myself into the pond, but I was a poor creature, I hadn’t the courage; and now … Rogozhin, are you ready?”
“Ready! Don’t come near her!”
“Ready!” shouted several voices.
“The troikas are waiting with bells!”
Nastasya Filippovna snatched up the bundle of notes.
“Ganya, an idea has occurred to me. I want to compensate you, for why should you lose everything? Rogozhin, would he crawl on all fours to the other end of Petersburg for three roubles?”
“He would.”
“Then listen, Ganya; I want to see into your soul for the last time. \bu have been torturing me for three months past, now it’s my turn. You see this roll, there are a hundred thousand roubles in it! I’m just going to throw it into the fire, before every one, all are witnesses. As soon as the fire has got it all alight, put your hands into the fire, only without gloves, with your bare hands and turn back your sleeves, and pull the bundle out of the fire. If you can pull it out, it’s yours, the whole hundred thousand. \bu’ll only burn your fingers a little — but it’s a hundred thousand, think of it! It won’t take long to pull out. And I shall admire your spirit, seeing how you put your hands into the fire for my money. All are witnesses that the bundle shall be yours. And if you don’t, then it will burn; I won’t let any one touch it. Stand away! Every one stand back! It’s my money! It’s my wages for a night with Rogozhin. Is it my money, Rogozhin?”
“Yours, my joy! Yours, my queen!”
“Then all stand back, I may do what I like! Don’t interfere! Ferdyshtchenko, make up the fire!”
“Nastasya Filippovna, I can’t raise my hands to it,” answered Ferdyshtchenko, dumbfounded.
“Ech!” cried Nastasya Filippovna. She snatched up the tongs, separated two smouldering chunks of wood, and as soon as the fire flared up, she flung the bundle into it.
There was an outcry from all the party; many even crossed themselves.
“She’s gone out of her mind! She is mad!” they shouted.
“Oughtn’t we . . . oughtn’t we … to tie her up?” the general whispered to Ptitsyn, “or send for the . . . She is mad, isn’t she, isn’t she?”
“N-no, perhaps it isn’t quite madness,” Ptitsyn whispered, trembling and white as a handkerchief, unable to take his eyes off the smouldering roll of notes.
“She is mad! She’s mad, isn’t she?” the general persisted to Totsky.
“As I told you, she is a woman of glaring effects,” muttered Afanasy Ivanovitch, also somewhat pale.
“But come, you know, it’s a hundred thousand!”
“Good