community-datasets/crime_and_punish · Datasets at Hugging Face

line stringlengths 2 76

“I can’t stay, I must go now....”

“And can’t I come with you?”

“No, but kneel down and pray to God for me. Your prayer perhaps will
reach Him.”

“Let me bless you and sign you with the cross. That’s right, that’s
right. Oh, God, what are we doing?”

Yes, he was glad, he was very glad that there was no one there, that
he was alone with his mother. For the first time after all those awful
months his heart was softened. He fell down before her, he kissed her
feet and both wept, embracing. And she was not surprised and did not
question him this time. For some days she had realised that something
awful was happening to her son and that now some terrible minute had
come for him.

“Rodya, my darling, my first born,” she said sobbing, “now you are just
as when you were little. You would run like this to me and hug me and
kiss me. When your father was living and we were poor, you comforted us
simply by being with us and when I buried your father, how often we
wept together at his grave and embraced, as now. And if I’ve been crying
lately, it’s that my mother’s heart had a foreboding of trouble. The
first time I saw you, that evening, you remember, as soon as we arrived
here, I guessed simply from your eyes. My heart sank at once, and to-day
when I opened the door and looked at you, I thought the fatal hour had
come. Rodya, Rodya, you are not going away to-day?”

“No!”

“You’ll come again?”

“Yes... I’ll come.”

“Rodya, don’t be angry, I don’t dare to question you. I know I mustn’t.
Only say two words to me--is it far where you are going?”

“Very far.”

“What is awaiting you there? Some post or career for you?”

“What God sends... only pray for me.” Raskolnikov went to the door, but
she clutched him and gazed despairingly into his eyes. Her face worked
with terror.

“Enough, mother,” said Raskolnikov, deeply regretting that he had come.

“Not for ever, it’s not yet for ever? You’ll come, you’ll come
to-morrow?”

“I will, I will, good-bye.” He tore himself away at last.

It was a warm, fresh, bright evening; it had cleared up in the morning.
Raskolnikov went to his lodgings; he made haste. He wanted to finish all
before sunset. He did not want to meet anyone till then. Going up the
stairs he noticed that Nastasya rushed from the samovar to watch him
intently. “Can anyone have come to see me?” he wondered. He had a
disgusted vision of Porfiry. But opening his door he saw Dounia. She
was sitting alone, plunged in deep thought, and looked as though she had
been waiting a long time. He stopped short in the doorway. She rose from
the sofa in dismay and stood up facing him. Her eyes, fixed upon him,
betrayed horror and infinite grief. And from those eyes alone he saw at
once that she knew.

“Am I to come in or go away?” he asked uncertainly.

“I’ve been all day with Sofya Semyonovna. We were both waiting for you.
We thought that you would be sure to come there.”

Raskolnikov went into the room and sank exhausted on a chair.

“I feel weak, Dounia, I am very tired; and I should have liked at this
moment to be able to control myself.”

He glanced at her mistrustfully.

“Where were you all night?”

“I don’t remember clearly. You see, sister, I wanted to make up my mind
once for all, and several times I walked by the Neva, I remember that
I wanted to end it all there, but... I couldn’t make up my mind,” he
whispered, looking at her mistrustfully again.

“Thank God! That was just what we were afraid of, Sofya Semyonovna and
I. Then you still have faith in life? Thank God, thank God!”

Raskolnikov smiled bitterly.

“I haven’t faith, but I have just been weeping in mother’s arms; I
haven’t faith, but I have just asked her to pray for me. I don’t know
how it is, Dounia, I don’t understand it.”

“Have you been at mother’s? Have you told her?” cried Dounia,
horror-stricken. “Surely you haven’t done that?”

“No, I didn’t tell her... in words; but she understood a great deal.
She heard you talking in your sleep. I am sure she half understands it
already. Perhaps I did wrong in going to see her. I don’t know why I did

“I can’t stay, I must go now....”

“And can’t I come with you?”

“No, but kneel down and pray to God for me. Your prayer perhaps will

reach Him.”

“Let me bless you and sign you with the cross. That’s right, that’s

right. Oh, God, what are we doing?”

Yes, he was glad, he was very glad that there was no one there, that

he was alone with his mother. For the first time after all those awful

months his heart was softened. He fell down before her, he kissed her

feet and both wept, embracing. And she was not surprised and did not

question him this time. For some days she had realised that something

awful was happening to her son and that now some terrible minute had

come for him.

“Rodya, my darling, my first born,” she said sobbing, “now you are just

as when you were little. You would run like this to me and hug me and

kiss me. When your father was living and we were poor, you comforted us

simply by being with us and when I buried your father, how often we

wept together at his grave and embraced, as now. And if I’ve been crying

lately, it’s that my mother’s heart had a foreboding of trouble. The

first time I saw you, that evening, you remember, as soon as we arrived

here, I guessed simply from your eyes. My heart sank at once, and to-day

when I opened the door and looked at you, I thought the fatal hour had

come. Rodya, Rodya, you are not going away to-day?”

“No!”

“You’ll come again?”

“Yes... I’ll come.”

“Rodya, don’t be angry, I don’t dare to question you. I know I mustn’t.

Only say two words to me--is it far where you are going?”

“Very far.”

“What is awaiting you there? Some post or career for you?”

“What God sends... only pray for me.” Raskolnikov went to the door, but

she clutched him and gazed despairingly into his eyes. Her face worked

with terror.

“Enough, mother,” said Raskolnikov, deeply regretting that he had come.

“Not for ever, it’s not yet for ever? You’ll come, you’ll come

to-morrow?”

“I will, I will, good-bye.” He tore himself away at last.

It was a warm, fresh, bright evening; it had cleared up in the morning.

Raskolnikov went to his lodgings; he made haste. He wanted to finish all

before sunset. He did not want to meet anyone till then. Going up the

stairs he noticed that Nastasya rushed from the samovar to watch him

intently. “Can anyone have come to see me?” he wondered. He had a

disgusted vision of Porfiry. But opening his door he saw Dounia. She

was sitting alone, plunged in deep thought, and looked as though she had

been waiting a long time. He stopped short in the doorway. She rose from

the sofa in dismay and stood up facing him. Her eyes, fixed upon him,

betrayed horror and infinite grief. And from those eyes alone he saw at

once that she knew.

“Am I to come in or go away?” he asked uncertainly.

“I’ve been all day with Sofya Semyonovna. We were both waiting for you.

We thought that you would be sure to come there.”

Raskolnikov went into the room and sank exhausted on a chair.

“I feel weak, Dounia, I am very tired; and I should have liked at this

moment to be able to control myself.”

He glanced at her mistrustfully.

“Where were you all night?”

“I don’t remember clearly. You see, sister, I wanted to make up my mind

once for all, and several times I walked by the Neva, I remember that

I wanted to end it all there, but... I couldn’t make up my mind,” he

whispered, looking at her mistrustfully again.

“Thank God! That was just what we were afraid of, Sofya Semyonovna and

I. Then you still have faith in life? Thank God, thank God!”

Raskolnikov smiled bitterly.

“I haven’t faith, but I have just been weeping in mother’s arms; I

haven’t faith, but I have just asked her to pray for me. I don’t know

how it is, Dounia, I don’t understand it.”

“Have you been at mother’s? Have you told her?” cried Dounia,

horror-stricken. “Surely you haven’t done that?”

“No, I didn’t tell her... in words; but she understood a great deal.

She heard you talking in your sleep. I am sure she half understands it

already. Perhaps I did wrong in going to see her. I don’t know why I did