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“What are you to be pitied for?” shouted the tavern-keeper who was again
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near them.
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Shouts of laughter and even oaths followed. The laughter and the oaths
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came from those who were listening and also from those who had heard
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nothing but were simply looking at the figure of the discharged
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government clerk.
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“To be pitied! Why am I to be pitied?” Marmeladov suddenly declaimed,
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standing up with his arm outstretched, as though he had been only
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waiting for that question.
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“Why am I to be pitied, you say? Yes! there’s nothing to pity me for! I
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ought to be crucified, crucified on a cross, not pitied! Crucify me,
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oh judge, crucify me but pity me! And then I will go of myself to be
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crucified, for it’s not merry-making I seek but tears and tribulation!...
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Do you suppose, you that sell, that this pint of yours has been
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sweet to me? It was tribulation I sought at the bottom of it, tears and
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tribulation, and have found it, and I have tasted it; but He will pity
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us Who has had pity on all men, Who has understood all men and all
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things, He is the One, He too is the judge. He will come in that day
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and He will ask: ‘Where is the daughter who gave herself for her cross,
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consumptive step-mother and for the little children of another? Where is
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the daughter who had pity upon the filthy drunkard, her earthly father,
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undismayed by his beastliness?’ And He will say, ‘Come to me! I have
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already forgiven thee once.... I have forgiven thee once.... Thy sins
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which are many are forgiven thee for thou hast loved much....’ And he
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will forgive my Sonia, He will forgive, I know it... I felt it in my
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heart when I was with her just now! And He will judge and will forgive
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all, the good and the evil, the wise and the meek.... And when He has
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done with all of them, then He will summon us. ‘You too come forth,’
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He will say, ‘Come forth ye drunkards, come forth, ye weak ones, come
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forth, ye children of shame!’ And we shall all come forth, without shame
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and shall stand before him. And He will say unto us, ‘Ye are swine, made
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in the Image of the Beast and with his mark; but come ye also!’ And the
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wise ones and those of understanding will say, ‘Oh Lord, why dost Thou
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receive these men?’ And He will say, ‘This is why I receive them, oh ye
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wise, this is why I receive them, oh ye of understanding, that not one
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of them believed himself to be worthy of this.’ And He will hold out His
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hands to us and we shall fall down before him... and we shall weep...
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and we shall understand all things! Then we shall understand all!... and
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all will understand, Katerina Ivanovna even... she will understand....
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Lord, Thy kingdom come!” And he sank down on the bench exhausted, and
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helpless, looking at no one, apparently oblivious of his surroundings
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and plunged in deep thought. His words had created a certain impression;
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there was a moment of silence; but soon laughter and oaths were heard
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again.
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“That’s his notion!”
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“Talked himself silly!”
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“A fine clerk he is!”
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And so on, and so on.
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“Let us go, sir,” said Marmeladov all at once, raising his head and
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addressing Raskolnikov--“come along with me... Kozel’s house, looking
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into the yard. I’m going to Katerina Ivanovna--time I did.”
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Raskolnikov had for some time been wanting to go and he had meant to
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help him. Marmeladov was much unsteadier on his legs than in his speech
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and leaned heavily on the young man. They had two or three hundred
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paces to go. The drunken man was more and more overcome by dismay and
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confusion as they drew nearer the house.
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“It’s not Katerina Ivanovna I am afraid of now,” he muttered in
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agitation--“and that she will begin pulling my hair. What does my hair
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matter! Bother my hair! That’s what I say! Indeed it will be better if
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she does begin pulling it, that’s not what I am afraid of... it’s her
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eyes I am afraid of... yes, her eyes... the red on her cheeks, too,
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frightens me... and her breathing too.... Have you noticed how people
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in that disease breathe... when they are excited? I am frightened of
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the children’s crying, too.... For if Sonia has not taken them food...
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I don’t know what’s happened! I don’t know! But blows I am not afraid
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of.... Know, sir, that such blows are not a pain to me, but even an
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enjoyment. In fact I can’t get on without it.... It’s better so. Let
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her strike me, it relieves her heart... it’s better so... There is the
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house. The house of Kozel, the cabinet-maker... a German, well-to-do.
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Lead the way!”
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They went in from the yard and up to the fourth storey. The staircase
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got darker and darker as they went up. It was nearly eleven o’clock
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and although in summer in Petersburg there is no real night, yet it was
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quite dark at the top of the stairs.
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A grimy little door at the very top of the stairs stood ajar. A very
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poor-looking room about ten paces long was lighted up by a candle-end;
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the whole of it was visible from the entrance. It was all in disorder,
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littered up with rags of all sorts, especially children’s garments.
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Across the furthest corner was stretched a ragged sheet. Behind it
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probably was the bed. There was nothing in the room except two chairs
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and a sofa covered with American leather, full of holes, before which
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stood an old deal kitchen-table, unpainted and uncovered. At the edge
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of the table stood a smoldering tallow-candle in an iron candlestick. It
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appeared that the family had a room to themselves, not part of a room,
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but their room was practically a passage. The door leading to the other
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rooms, or rather cupboards, into which Amalia Lippevechsel’s flat was
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divided stood half open, and there was shouting, uproar and laughter
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