community-datasets/crime_and_punish · Datasets at Hugging Face

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of his helping us to pay for your university studies; we have not spoken
of it in the first place, because it will come to pass of itself,
later on, and he will no doubt without wasting words offer to do it of
himself, (as though he could refuse Dounia that) the more readily since
you may by your own efforts become his right hand in the office, and
receive this assistance not as a charity, but as a salary earned by your
own work. Dounia wants to arrange it all like this and I quite agree
with her. And we have not spoken of our plans for another reason, that
is, because I particularly wanted you to feel on an equal footing when
you first meet him. When Dounia spoke to him with enthusiasm about
you, he answered that one could never judge of a man without seeing
him close, for oneself, and that he looked forward to forming his own
opinion when he makes your acquaintance. Do you know, my precious
Rodya, I think that perhaps for some reasons (nothing to do with Pyotr
Petrovitch though, simply for my own personal, perhaps old-womanish,
fancies) I should do better to go on living by myself, apart, than with
them, after the wedding. I am convinced that he will be generous and
delicate enough to invite me and to urge me to remain with my daughter
for the future, and if he has said nothing about it hitherto, it is
simply because it has been taken for granted; but I shall refuse. I have
noticed more than once in my life that husbands don’t quite get on with
their mothers-in-law, and I don’t want to be the least bit in anyone’s
way, and for my own sake, too, would rather be quite independent, so
long as I have a crust of bread of my own, and such children as you and
Dounia. If possible, I would settle somewhere near you, for the most
joyful piece of news, dear Rodya, I have kept for the end of my letter:
know then, my dear boy, that we may, perhaps, be all together in a
very short time and may embrace one another again after a separation of
almost three years! It is settled _for certain_ that Dounia and I are to
set off for Petersburg, exactly when I don’t know, but very, very soon,
possibly in a week. It all depends on Pyotr Petrovitch who will let us
know when he has had time to look round him in Petersburg. To suit his
own arrangements he is anxious to have the ceremony as soon as possible,
even before the fast of Our Lady, if it could be managed, or if that is
too soon to be ready, immediately after. Oh, with what happiness I shall
press you to my heart! Dounia is all excitement at the joyful thought
of seeing you, she said one day in joke that she would be ready to marry
Pyotr Petrovitch for that alone. She is an angel! She is not writing
anything to you now, and has only told me to write that she has so much,
so much to tell you that she is not going to take up her pen now, for
a few lines would tell you nothing, and it would only mean upsetting
herself; she bids me send you her love and innumerable kisses. But
although we shall be meeting so soon, perhaps I shall send you as much
money as I can in a day or two. Now that everyone has heard that Dounia
is to marry Pyotr Petrovitch, my credit has suddenly improved and I know
that Afanasy Ivanovitch will trust me now even to seventy-five roubles
on the security of my pension, so that perhaps I shall be able to send
you twenty-five or even thirty roubles. I would send you more, but I am
uneasy about our travelling expenses; for though Pyotr Petrovitch has
been so kind as to undertake part of the expenses of the journey, that
is to say, he has taken upon himself the conveyance of our bags and big
trunk (which will be conveyed through some acquaintances of his), we
must reckon upon some expense on our arrival in Petersburg, where we
can’t be left without a halfpenny, at least for the first few days. But
we have calculated it all, Dounia and I, to the last penny, and we see
that the journey will not cost very much. It is only ninety versts from
us to the railway and we have come to an agreement with a driver we
know, so as to be in readiness; and from there Dounia and I can travel
quite comfortably third class. So that I may very likely be able to send
to you not twenty-five, but thirty roubles. But enough; I have covered
two sheets already and there is no space left for more; our whole
history, but so many events have happened! And now, my precious Rodya,
I embrace you and send you a mother’s blessing till we meet. Love Dounia
your sister, Rodya; love her as she loves you and understand that she
loves you beyond everything, more than herself. She is an angel and you,
Rodya, you are everything to us--our one hope, our one consolation. If
only you are happy, we shall be happy. Do you still say your prayers,
Rodya, and believe in the mercy of our Creator and our Redeemer? I am
afraid in my heart that you may have been visited by the new spirit of
infidelity that is abroad to-day; If it is so, I pray for you. Remember,
dear boy, how in your childhood, when your father was living, you used
to lisp your prayers at my knee, and how happy we all were in those
days. Good-bye, till we meet then--I embrace you warmly, warmly, with
many kisses.

“Yours till death,

“PULCHERIA RASKOLNIKOV.”


Almost from the first, while he read the letter, Raskolnikov’s face was
wet with tears; but when he finished it, his face was pale and distorted
and a bitter, wrathful and malignant smile was on his lips. He laid his
head down on his threadbare dirty pillow and pondered, pondered a long
time. His heart was beating violently, and his brain was in a turmoil.
At last he felt cramped and stifled in the little yellow room that was
like a cupboard or a box. His eyes and his mind craved for space. He
took up his hat and went out, this time without dread of meeting
anyone; he had forgotten his dread. He turned in the direction of the
Vassilyevsky Ostrov, walking along Vassilyevsky Prospect, as though
hastening on some business, but he walked, as his habit was, without
noticing his way, muttering and even speaking aloud to himself, to the
astonishment of the passers-by. Many of them took him to be drunk.



CHAPTER IV

His mother’s letter had been a torture to him, but as regards the chief
fact in it, he had felt not one moment’s hesitation, even whilst he was

of his helping us to pay for your university studies; we have not spoken

of it in the first place, because it will come to pass of itself,

later on, and he will no doubt without wasting words offer to do it of

himself, (as though he could refuse Dounia that) the more readily since

you may by your own efforts become his right hand in the office, and

receive this assistance not as a charity, but as a salary earned by your

own work. Dounia wants to arrange it all like this and I quite agree

with her. And we have not spoken of our plans for another reason, that

is, because I particularly wanted you to feel on an equal footing when

you first meet him. When Dounia spoke to him with enthusiasm about

you, he answered that one could never judge of a man without seeing

him close, for oneself, and that he looked forward to forming his own

opinion when he makes your acquaintance. Do you know, my precious

Rodya, I think that perhaps for some reasons (nothing to do with Pyotr

Petrovitch though, simply for my own personal, perhaps old-womanish,

fancies) I should do better to go on living by myself, apart, than with

them, after the wedding. I am convinced that he will be generous and

delicate enough to invite me and to urge me to remain with my daughter

for the future, and if he has said nothing about it hitherto, it is

simply because it has been taken for granted; but I shall refuse. I have

noticed more than once in my life that husbands don’t quite get on with

their mothers-in-law, and I don’t want to be the least bit in anyone’s

way, and for my own sake, too, would rather be quite independent, so

long as I have a crust of bread of my own, and such children as you and

Dounia. If possible, I would settle somewhere near you, for the most

joyful piece of news, dear Rodya, I have kept for the end of my letter:

know then, my dear boy, that we may, perhaps, be all together in a

very short time and may embrace one another again after a separation of

almost three years! It is settled _for certain_ that Dounia and I are to

set off for Petersburg, exactly when I don’t know, but very, very soon,

possibly in a week. It all depends on Pyotr Petrovitch who will let us

know when he has had time to look round him in Petersburg. To suit his

own arrangements he is anxious to have the ceremony as soon as possible,

even before the fast of Our Lady, if it could be managed, or if that is

too soon to be ready, immediately after. Oh, with what happiness I shall

press you to my heart! Dounia is all excitement at the joyful thought

of seeing you, she said one day in joke that she would be ready to marry

Pyotr Petrovitch for that alone. She is an angel! She is not writing

anything to you now, and has only told me to write that she has so much,

so much to tell you that she is not going to take up her pen now, for

a few lines would tell you nothing, and it would only mean upsetting

herself; she bids me send you her love and innumerable kisses. But

although we shall be meeting so soon, perhaps I shall send you as much

money as I can in a day or two. Now that everyone has heard that Dounia

is to marry Pyotr Petrovitch, my credit has suddenly improved and I know

that Afanasy Ivanovitch will trust me now even to seventy-five roubles

on the security of my pension, so that perhaps I shall be able to send

you twenty-five or even thirty roubles. I would send you more, but I am

uneasy about our travelling expenses; for though Pyotr Petrovitch has

been so kind as to undertake part of the expenses of the journey, that

is to say, he has taken upon himself the conveyance of our bags and big

trunk (which will be conveyed through some acquaintances of his), we

must reckon upon some expense on our arrival in Petersburg, where we

can’t be left without a halfpenny, at least for the first few days. But

we have calculated it all, Dounia and I, to the last penny, and we see

that the journey will not cost very much. It is only ninety versts from

us to the railway and we have come to an agreement with a driver we

know, so as to be in readiness; and from there Dounia and I can travel

quite comfortably third class. So that I may very likely be able to send

to you not twenty-five, but thirty roubles. But enough; I have covered

two sheets already and there is no space left for more; our whole

history, but so many events have happened! And now, my precious Rodya,

I embrace you and send you a mother’s blessing till we meet. Love Dounia

your sister, Rodya; love her as she loves you and understand that she

loves you beyond everything, more than herself. She is an angel and you,

Rodya, you are everything to us--our one hope, our one consolation. If

only you are happy, we shall be happy. Do you still say your prayers,

Rodya, and believe in the mercy of our Creator and our Redeemer? I am

afraid in my heart that you may have been visited by the new spirit of

infidelity that is abroad to-day; If it is so, I pray for you. Remember,

dear boy, how in your childhood, when your father was living, you used

to lisp your prayers at my knee, and how happy we all were in those

days. Good-bye, till we meet then--I embrace you warmly, warmly, with

many kisses.

“Yours till death,

“PULCHERIA RASKOLNIKOV.”

Almost from the first, while he read the letter, Raskolnikov’s face was

wet with tears; but when he finished it, his face was pale and distorted

and a bitter, wrathful and malignant smile was on his lips. He laid his

head down on his threadbare dirty pillow and pondered, pondered a long

time. His heart was beating violently, and his brain was in a turmoil.

At last he felt cramped and stifled in the little yellow room that was

like a cupboard or a box. His eyes and his mind craved for space. He

took up his hat and went out, this time without dread of meeting

anyone; he had forgotten his dread. He turned in the direction of the

Vassilyevsky Ostrov, walking along Vassilyevsky Prospect, as though

hastening on some business, but he walked, as his habit was, without

noticing his way, muttering and even speaking aloud to himself, to the

astonishment of the passers-by. Many of them took him to be drunk.

CHAPTER IV

His mother’s letter had been a torture to him, but as regards the chief

fact in it, he had felt not one moment’s hesitation, even whilst he was