community-datasets/crime_and_punish · Datasets at Hugging Face

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She seemed to be imploring Svidrigaïlov; she had entirely forgotten her
fear.

“There are thousands and millions of combinations and possibilities,
Avdotya Romanovna. A thief steals and knows he is a scoundrel, but I’ve
heard of a gentleman who broke open the mail. Who knows, very likely he
thought he was doing a gentlemanly thing! Of course I should not have
believed it myself if I’d been told of it as you have, but I believe my
own ears. He explained all the causes of it to Sofya Semyonovna too, but
she did not believe her ears at first, yet she believed her own eyes at
last.”

“What... were the causes?”

“It’s a long story, Avdotya Romanovna. Here’s... how shall I tell
you?--A theory of a sort, the same one by which I for instance consider
that a single misdeed is permissible if the principal aim is right, a
solitary wrongdoing and hundreds of good deeds! It’s galling too, of
course, for a young man of gifts and overweening pride to know that if
he had, for instance, a paltry three thousand, his whole career, his
whole future would be differently shaped and yet not to have that three
thousand. Add to that, nervous irritability from hunger, from lodging
in a hole, from rags, from a vivid sense of the charm of his social
position and his sister’s and mother’s position too. Above all, vanity,
pride and vanity, though goodness knows he may have good qualities
too.... I am not blaming him, please don’t think it; besides, it’s not
my business. A special little theory came in too--a theory of a
sort--dividing mankind, you see, into material and superior persons,
that is persons to whom the law does not apply owing to their
superiority, who make laws for the rest of mankind, the material, that
is. It’s all right as a theory, _une théorie comme une autre_. Napoleon
attracted him tremendously, that is, what affected him was that a
great many men of genius have not hesitated at wrongdoing, but have
overstepped the law without thinking about it. He seems to have fancied
that he was a genius too--that is, he was convinced of it for a time. He
has suffered a great deal and is still suffering from the idea that he
could make a theory, but was incapable of boldly overstepping the law,
and so he is not a man of genius. And that’s humiliating for a young man
of any pride, in our day especially....”

“But remorse? You deny him any moral feeling then? Is he like that?”

“Ah, Avdotya Romanovna, everything is in a muddle now; not that it was
ever in very good order. Russians in general are broad in their ideas,
Avdotya Romanovna, broad like their land and exceedingly disposed to
the fantastic, the chaotic. But it’s a misfortune to be broad without
a special genius. Do you remember what a lot of talk we had together on
this subject, sitting in the evenings on the terrace after supper? Why,
you used to reproach me with breadth! Who knows, perhaps we were talking
at the very time when he was lying here thinking over his plan. There
are no sacred traditions amongst us, especially in the educated class,
Avdotya Romanovna. At the best someone will make them up somehow for
himself out of books or from some old chronicle. But those are for the
most part the learned and all old fogeys, so that it would be almost
ill-bred in a man of society. You know my opinions in general, though. I
never blame anyone. I do nothing at all, I persevere in that. But
we’ve talked of this more than once before. I was so happy indeed as to
interest you in my opinions.... You are very pale, Avdotya Romanovna.”

“I know his theory. I read that article of his about men to whom all is
permitted. Razumihin brought it to me.”

“Mr. Razumihin? Your brother’s article? In a magazine? Is there such an
article? I didn’t know. It must be interesting. But where are you going,
Avdotya Romanovna?”

“I want to see Sofya Semyonovna,” Dounia articulated faintly. “How do I
go to her? She has come in, perhaps. I must see her at once. Perhaps
she...”

Avdotya Romanovna could not finish. Her breath literally failed her.

“Sofya Semyonovna will not be back till night, at least I believe not.
She was to have been back at once, but if not, then she will not be in
till quite late.”

“Ah, then you are lying! I see... you were lying... lying all the
time.... I don’t believe you! I don’t believe you!” cried Dounia,
completely losing her head.

Almost fainting, she sank on to a chair which Svidrigaïlov made haste to
give her.

“Avdotya Romanovna, what is it? Control yourself! Here is some water.
Drink a little....”

He sprinkled some water over her. Dounia shuddered and came to herself.

“It has acted violently,” Svidrigaïlov muttered to himself, frowning.
“Avdotya Romanovna, calm yourself! Believe me, he has friends. We will
save him. Would you like me to take him abroad? I have money, I can get
a ticket in three days. And as for the murder, he will do all sorts of
good deeds yet, to atone for it. Calm yourself. He may become a great
man yet. Well, how are you? How do you feel?”

“Cruel man! To be able to jeer at it! Let me go...”

“Where are you going?”

She seemed to be imploring Svidrigaïlov; she had entirely forgotten her

fear.

“There are thousands and millions of combinations and possibilities,

Avdotya Romanovna. A thief steals and knows he is a scoundrel, but I’ve

heard of a gentleman who broke open the mail. Who knows, very likely he

thought he was doing a gentlemanly thing! Of course I should not have

believed it myself if I’d been told of it as you have, but I believe my

own ears. He explained all the causes of it to Sofya Semyonovna too, but

she did not believe her ears at first, yet she believed her own eyes at

last.”

“What... were the causes?”

“It’s a long story, Avdotya Romanovna. Here’s... how shall I tell

you?--A theory of a sort, the same one by which I for instance consider

that a single misdeed is permissible if the principal aim is right, a

solitary wrongdoing and hundreds of good deeds! It’s galling too, of

course, for a young man of gifts and overweening pride to know that if

he had, for instance, a paltry three thousand, his whole career, his

whole future would be differently shaped and yet not to have that three

thousand. Add to that, nervous irritability from hunger, from lodging

in a hole, from rags, from a vivid sense of the charm of his social

position and his sister’s and mother’s position too. Above all, vanity,

pride and vanity, though goodness knows he may have good qualities

too.... I am not blaming him, please don’t think it; besides, it’s not

my business. A special little theory came in too--a theory of a

sort--dividing mankind, you see, into material and superior persons,

that is persons to whom the law does not apply owing to their

superiority, who make laws for the rest of mankind, the material, that

is. It’s all right as a theory, _une théorie comme une autre_. Napoleon

attracted him tremendously, that is, what affected him was that a

great many men of genius have not hesitated at wrongdoing, but have

overstepped the law without thinking about it. He seems to have fancied

that he was a genius too--that is, he was convinced of it for a time. He

has suffered a great deal and is still suffering from the idea that he

could make a theory, but was incapable of boldly overstepping the law,

and so he is not a man of genius. And that’s humiliating for a young man

of any pride, in our day especially....”

“But remorse? You deny him any moral feeling then? Is he like that?”

“Ah, Avdotya Romanovna, everything is in a muddle now; not that it was

ever in very good order. Russians in general are broad in their ideas,

Avdotya Romanovna, broad like their land and exceedingly disposed to

the fantastic, the chaotic. But it’s a misfortune to be broad without

a special genius. Do you remember what a lot of talk we had together on

this subject, sitting in the evenings on the terrace after supper? Why,

you used to reproach me with breadth! Who knows, perhaps we were talking

at the very time when he was lying here thinking over his plan. There

are no sacred traditions amongst us, especially in the educated class,

Avdotya Romanovna. At the best someone will make them up somehow for

himself out of books or from some old chronicle. But those are for the

most part the learned and all old fogeys, so that it would be almost

ill-bred in a man of society. You know my opinions in general, though. I

never blame anyone. I do nothing at all, I persevere in that. But

we’ve talked of this more than once before. I was so happy indeed as to

interest you in my opinions.... You are very pale, Avdotya Romanovna.”

“I know his theory. I read that article of his about men to whom all is

permitted. Razumihin brought it to me.”

“Mr. Razumihin? Your brother’s article? In a magazine? Is there such an

article? I didn’t know. It must be interesting. But where are you going,

Avdotya Romanovna?”

“I want to see Sofya Semyonovna,” Dounia articulated faintly. “How do I

go to her? She has come in, perhaps. I must see her at once. Perhaps

she...”

Avdotya Romanovna could not finish. Her breath literally failed her.

“Sofya Semyonovna will not be back till night, at least I believe not.

She was to have been back at once, but if not, then she will not be in

till quite late.”

“Ah, then you are lying! I see... you were lying... lying all the

time.... I don’t believe you! I don’t believe you!” cried Dounia,

completely losing her head.

Almost fainting, she sank on to a chair which Svidrigaïlov made haste to

give her.

“Avdotya Romanovna, what is it? Control yourself! Here is some water.

Drink a little....”

He sprinkled some water over her. Dounia shuddered and came to herself.

“It has acted violently,” Svidrigaïlov muttered to himself, frowning.

“Avdotya Romanovna, calm yourself! Believe me, he has friends. We will

save him. Would you like me to take him abroad? I have money, I can get

a ticket in three days. And as for the murder, he will do all sorts of

good deeds yet, to atone for it. Calm yourself. He may become a great

man yet. Well, how are you? How do you feel?”

“Cruel man! To be able to jeer at it! Let me go...”

“Where are you going?”