community-datasets/crime_and_punish · Datasets at Hugging Face

line stringlengths 2 76
kingdom of Heaven. It used to be: you can lie like a beast, nothing but
abuse. Now they were walking on tiptoe, hushing the children. ‘Semyon
Zaharovitch is tired with his work at the office, he is resting, shh!’
They made me coffee before I went to work and boiled cream for me! They
began to get real cream for me, do you hear that? And how they managed
to get together the money for a decent outfit--eleven roubles, fifty
copecks, I can’t guess. Boots, cotton shirt-fronts--most magnificent,
a uniform, they got up all in splendid style, for eleven roubles and
a half. The first morning I came back from the office I found Katerina
Ivanovna had cooked two courses for dinner--soup and salt meat with
horse radish--which we had never dreamed of till then. She had not any
dresses... none at all, but she got herself up as though she were going
on a visit; and not that she’d anything to do it with, she smartened
herself up with nothing at all, she’d done her hair nicely, put on a
clean collar of some sort, cuffs, and there she was, quite a different
person, she was younger and better looking. Sonia, my little darling,
had only helped with money ‘for the time,’ she said, ‘it won’t do for me
to come and see you too often. After dark maybe when no one can see.’ Do
you hear, do you hear? I lay down for a nap after dinner and what do you
think: though Katerina Ivanovna had quarrelled to the last degree with
our landlady Amalia Fyodorovna only a week before, she could not
resist then asking her in to coffee. For two hours they were sitting,
whispering together. ‘Semyon Zaharovitch is in the service again,
now, and receiving a salary,’ says she, ‘and he went himself to his
excellency and his excellency himself came out to him, made all the
others wait and led Semyon Zaharovitch by the hand before everybody into
his study.’ Do you hear, do you hear? ‘To be sure,’ says he, ‘Semyon
Zaharovitch, remembering your past services,’ says he, ‘and in spite
of your propensity to that foolish weakness, since you promise now and
since moreover we’ve got on badly without you,’ (do you hear, do you
hear;) ‘and so,’ says he, ‘I rely now on your word as a gentleman.’ And
all that, let me tell you, she has simply made up for herself, and not
simply out of wantonness, for the sake of bragging; no, she believes it
all herself, she amuses herself with her own fancies, upon my word she
does! And I don’t blame her for it, no, I don’t blame her!... Six days
ago when I brought her my first earnings in full--twenty-three roubles
forty copecks altogether--she called me her poppet: ‘poppet,’ said she,
‘my little poppet.’ And when we were by ourselves, you understand?
You would not think me a beauty, you would not think much of me as a
husband, would you?... Well, she pinched my cheek, ‘my little poppet,’
said she.”

Marmeladov broke off, tried to smile, but suddenly his chin began
to twitch. He controlled himself however. The tavern, the degraded
appearance of the man, the five nights in the hay barge, and the pot of
spirits, and yet this poignant love for his wife and children bewildered
his listener. Raskolnikov listened intently but with a sick sensation.
He felt vexed that he had come here.

“Honoured sir, honoured sir,” cried Marmeladov recovering himself--“Oh,
sir, perhaps all this seems a laughing matter to you, as it does to
others, and perhaps I am only worrying you with the stupidity of all the
trivial details of my home life, but it is not a laughing matter to me.
For I can feel it all.... And the whole of that heavenly day of my life
and the whole of that evening I passed in fleeting dreams of how I would
arrange it all, and how I would dress all the children, and how I should
give her rest, and how I should rescue my own daughter from dishonour
and restore her to the bosom of her family.... And a great deal more....
Quite excusable, sir. Well, then, sir” (Marmeladov suddenly gave a sort
of start, raised his head and gazed intently at his listener) “well, on
the very next day after all those dreams, that is to say, exactly five
days ago, in the evening, by a cunning trick, like a thief in the night,
I stole from Katerina Ivanovna the key of her box, took out what was
left of my earnings, how much it was I have forgotten, and now look
at me, all of you! It’s the fifth day since I left home, and they are
looking for me there and it’s the end of my employment, and my uniform
is lying in a tavern on the Egyptian bridge. I exchanged it for the
garments I have on... and it’s the end of everything!”

Marmeladov struck his forehead with his fist, clenched his teeth, closed
his eyes and leaned heavily with his elbow on the table. But a minute
later his face suddenly changed and with a certain assumed slyness and
affectation of bravado, he glanced at Raskolnikov, laughed and said:

“This morning I went to see Sonia, I went to ask her for a pick-me-up!
He-he-he!”

“You don’t say she gave it to you?” cried one of the new-comers; he
shouted the words and went off into a guffaw.

“This very quart was bought with her money,” Marmeladov declared,
addressing himself exclusively to Raskolnikov. “Thirty copecks she gave
me with her own hands, her last, all she had, as I saw.... She said
nothing, she only looked at me without a word.... Not on earth, but up
yonder... they grieve over men, they weep, but they don’t blame them,
they don’t blame them! But it hurts more, it hurts more when they don’t
blame! Thirty copecks yes! And maybe she needs them now, eh? What do
you think, my dear sir? For now she’s got to keep up her appearance. It
costs money, that smartness, that special smartness, you know? Do you
understand? And there’s pomatum, too, you see, she must have things;
petticoats, starched ones, shoes, too, real jaunty ones to show off her
foot when she has to step over a puddle. Do you understand, sir, do you
understand what all that smartness means? And here I, her own father,
here I took thirty copecks of that money for a drink! And I am drinking
it! And I have already drunk it! Come, who will have pity on a man like
me, eh? Are you sorry for me, sir, or not? Tell me, sir, are you sorry
or not? He-he-he!”

He would have filled his glass, but there was no drink left. The pot was
empty.

kingdom of Heaven. It used to be: you can lie like a beast, nothing but

abuse. Now they were walking on tiptoe, hushing the children. ‘Semyon

Zaharovitch is tired with his work at the office, he is resting, shh!’

They made me coffee before I went to work and boiled cream for me! They

began to get real cream for me, do you hear that? And how they managed

to get together the money for a decent outfit--eleven roubles, fifty

copecks, I can’t guess. Boots, cotton shirt-fronts--most magnificent,

a uniform, they got up all in splendid style, for eleven roubles and

a half. The first morning I came back from the office I found Katerina

Ivanovna had cooked two courses for dinner--soup and salt meat with

horse radish--which we had never dreamed of till then. She had not any

dresses... none at all, but she got herself up as though she were going

on a visit; and not that she’d anything to do it with, she smartened

herself up with nothing at all, she’d done her hair nicely, put on a

clean collar of some sort, cuffs, and there she was, quite a different

person, she was younger and better looking. Sonia, my little darling,

had only helped with money ‘for the time,’ she said, ‘it won’t do for me

to come and see you too often. After dark maybe when no one can see.’ Do

you hear, do you hear? I lay down for a nap after dinner and what do you

think: though Katerina Ivanovna had quarrelled to the last degree with

our landlady Amalia Fyodorovna only a week before, she could not

resist then asking her in to coffee. For two hours they were sitting,

whispering together. ‘Semyon Zaharovitch is in the service again,

now, and receiving a salary,’ says she, ‘and he went himself to his

excellency and his excellency himself came out to him, made all the

others wait and led Semyon Zaharovitch by the hand before everybody into

his study.’ Do you hear, do you hear? ‘To be sure,’ says he, ‘Semyon

Zaharovitch, remembering your past services,’ says he, ‘and in spite

of your propensity to that foolish weakness, since you promise now and

since moreover we’ve got on badly without you,’ (do you hear, do you

hear;) ‘and so,’ says he, ‘I rely now on your word as a gentleman.’ And

all that, let me tell you, she has simply made up for herself, and not

simply out of wantonness, for the sake of bragging; no, she believes it

all herself, she amuses herself with her own fancies, upon my word she

does! And I don’t blame her for it, no, I don’t blame her!... Six days

ago when I brought her my first earnings in full--twenty-three roubles

forty copecks altogether--she called me her poppet: ‘poppet,’ said she,

‘my little poppet.’ And when we were by ourselves, you understand?

You would not think me a beauty, you would not think much of me as a

husband, would you?... Well, she pinched my cheek, ‘my little poppet,’

said she.”

Marmeladov broke off, tried to smile, but suddenly his chin began

to twitch. He controlled himself however. The tavern, the degraded

appearance of the man, the five nights in the hay barge, and the pot of

spirits, and yet this poignant love for his wife and children bewildered

his listener. Raskolnikov listened intently but with a sick sensation.

He felt vexed that he had come here.

“Honoured sir, honoured sir,” cried Marmeladov recovering himself--“Oh,

sir, perhaps all this seems a laughing matter to you, as it does to

others, and perhaps I am only worrying you with the stupidity of all the

trivial details of my home life, but it is not a laughing matter to me.

For I can feel it all.... And the whole of that heavenly day of my life

and the whole of that evening I passed in fleeting dreams of how I would

arrange it all, and how I would dress all the children, and how I should

give her rest, and how I should rescue my own daughter from dishonour

and restore her to the bosom of her family.... And a great deal more....

Quite excusable, sir. Well, then, sir” (Marmeladov suddenly gave a sort

of start, raised his head and gazed intently at his listener) “well, on

the very next day after all those dreams, that is to say, exactly five

days ago, in the evening, by a cunning trick, like a thief in the night,

I stole from Katerina Ivanovna the key of her box, took out what was

left of my earnings, how much it was I have forgotten, and now look

at me, all of you! It’s the fifth day since I left home, and they are

looking for me there and it’s the end of my employment, and my uniform

is lying in a tavern on the Egyptian bridge. I exchanged it for the

garments I have on... and it’s the end of everything!”

Marmeladov struck his forehead with his fist, clenched his teeth, closed

his eyes and leaned heavily with his elbow on the table. But a minute

later his face suddenly changed and with a certain assumed slyness and

affectation of bravado, he glanced at Raskolnikov, laughed and said:

“This morning I went to see Sonia, I went to ask her for a pick-me-up!

He-he-he!”

“You don’t say she gave it to you?” cried one of the new-comers; he

shouted the words and went off into a guffaw.

“This very quart was bought with her money,” Marmeladov declared,

addressing himself exclusively to Raskolnikov. “Thirty copecks she gave

me with her own hands, her last, all she had, as I saw.... She said

nothing, she only looked at me without a word.... Not on earth, but up

yonder... they grieve over men, they weep, but they don’t blame them,

they don’t blame them! But it hurts more, it hurts more when they don’t

blame! Thirty copecks yes! And maybe she needs them now, eh? What do

you think, my dear sir? For now she’s got to keep up her appearance. It

costs money, that smartness, that special smartness, you know? Do you

understand? And there’s pomatum, too, you see, she must have things;

petticoats, starched ones, shoes, too, real jaunty ones to show off her

foot when she has to step over a puddle. Do you understand, sir, do you

understand what all that smartness means? And here I, her own father,

here I took thirty copecks of that money for a drink! And I am drinking

it! And I have already drunk it! Come, who will have pity on a man like

me, eh? Are you sorry for me, sir, or not? Tell me, sir, are you sorry

or not? He-he-he!”

He would have filled his glass, but there was no drink left. The pot was

empty.