"Rather!" assented the innkeeper yawning. Marmeladov struck his fist resolutely
on the table.
"Such is my fate! Do you know, sir, do you know, I have sold her very stockings
for drink? Not her shoes– that would be more or less in the order of things, but
her stockings, her stockings I have sold for drink! Her mohair shawl I sold for
drink, a present to her long ago, her own property, not mine; and we live in a cold
room and she caught cold this winter and has begun coughing and spitting blood too.
We have three little children and Katerina Ivanovna is at work from morning till
night; she is scrubbing and cleaning and washing the children, for she's been used
to cleanliness from a child. But her chest is weak and she has a tendency to consumption
and I feel it! Do you suppose I don't feel it? And the more I drink the more I feel
it. That's why I drink too. I try to find sympathy and feeling in drink…. I drink
so that I may suffer twice as much!" And as though in despair he laid his head down
on the table.
"Young man," he went on, raising his head again, "in your face I seem to read
some trouble of mind. When you came in I read it, and that was why I addressed you
at once. For in unfolding to you the story of my life, I do not wish to make myself
a laughing-stock before these idle listeners, who indeed know all about it already,
but I am looking for a man of feeling and education. Know then that my wife was
educated in a high-class school for the daughters of noblemen, and on leaving she
danced the shawl dance before the governor and other personages for which she was
presented with a gold medal and a certificate of merit. The medal… well, the medal
of course was sold– long ago, hm… but the certificate of merit is in her trunk still
and not long ago she showed it to our landlady. And although she is most continually
on bad terms with the landlady, yet she wanted to tell some one or other of her
past honours and of the happy days that are gone. I don't condemn her for it, I
don't blame her, for the one thing left her is recollection of the past, and all
the rest is dust and ashes. Yes, yes, she is a lady of spirit, proud and determined.
She scrubs the floors herself and has nothing but black bread to eat, but won't
allow herself to be treated with disrespect. That's why she would not overlook Mr.
Lebeziatnikov's rudeness to her, and so when he gave her a beating for it, she took
to her bed more from the hurt to her feelings than from the blows. She was a widow
when I married her, with three children, one smaller than the other. She married
her first husband, an infantry officer, for love, and ran away with him from her
father's house. She was exceedingly fond of her husband; but he gave way to cards,
got into trouble and with that he died. He used to beat her at the end: and although
she paid him back, of which I have authentic documentary evidence, to this day she
speaks of him with tears and she throws him up to me; and I am glad, I am glad that,
though only in imagination, she should think of herself as having once been happy….
And she was left at his death with three children in a wild and remote district
where I happened to be at the time; and she was left in such hopeless poverty that,
although I have seen many ups and downs of all sort, I don't feel equal to describing
it even. Her relations had all thrown her off. And she was proud, too, excessively
proud…. And then, honoured sir, and then, I, being at the time a widower, with a
daughter of fourteen left me by my first wife, offered her my hand, for I could
not bear the sight of such suffering. You can judge the extremity of her calamities,
that she, a woman of education and culture and distinguished family, should have
consented to be my wife. But she did! Weeping and sobbing and wringing her hands,
she married me! For she had nowhere to turn! Do you understand, sir, do you understand
what it means when you have absolutely nowhere to turn? No, that you don't understand
yet…. And for a whole year, I performed my duties conscientiously and faithfully,
and did not touch this" (he tapped the jug with his finger), "for I have feelings.
But even so, I could not please her; and then I lost my place too, and that through
no fault of mine but through changes in the office; and then I did touch it!… It
will be a year and a half ago soon since we found ourselves at last after many wanderings
and numerous calamities in this magnificent capital, adorned with innumerable monuments.
Here I obtained a situation…. I obtained it and I lost it again. Do you understand?
This time it was through my own fault I lost it: for my weakness had come out….
We have now part of a room at Amalia Fyodorovna Lippevechsel's; and what we live
upon and what we pay our rent with, I could not say. There are a lot of people living
there besides ourselves. Dirt and disorder, a perfect Bedlam… hm… yes… And meanwhile
my daughter by my first wife has grown up; and what my daughter has had to put up
with from her step-mother whilst she was growing up, I won't speak of. For, though
Katerina Ivanovna is full of generous feelings, she is a spirited lady, irritable
and short-tempered…. Yes. But it's no use going over that! Sonia, as you may well
fancy, has had no education. I did make an effort four years ago to give her a course
of geography and universal history, but as I was not very well up in those subjects
myself and we had no suitable books, and what books we had… hm, any way we have
not even those now, so all our instruction came to an end. We stopped at Cyrus of
Persia. Since she has attained years of maturity, she has read other books of romantic
tendency and of late she had read with great interest a book she got through Mr.
Lebeziatnikov, Lewes' Physiology– do you know it?– and even recounted extracts from
it to us: and that's the whole of her education. And now may I venture to address
you, honoured sir, on my own account with a private question. Do you suppose that
a respectable poor girl can earn much by honest work? Not fifteen farthings a day
can she earn, if she is respectable and has no special talent and that without putting
her work down for an instant! And what's more, Ivan Ivanitch Klopstock the civil
counsellor– have you heard of him?– has not to this day paid her for the half-dozen
linen shirts she made him and drove her roughly away, stamping and reviling her,
on the pretext that the shirt collars were not made like the pattern and were put
in askew. And there are the little ones hungry…. And Katerina Ivanovna walking up
and down and wringing her hands, her cheeks flushed red, as they always are in that
disease: 'Here you live with us,' says she, 'you eat and drink and are kept warm
and you do nothing to help.' And much she gets to eat and drink when there is not
a crust for the little ones for three days! I was lying at the time… well, what
of it! I was lying drunk and I heard my Sonia speaking (she is a gentle creature
with a soft little voice… fair hair and such a pale, thin little face). She said:
'Katerina Ivanovna, am I really to do a thing like that?' And Darya Frantsovna,
a woman of evil character and very well known to the police, had two or three times
tried to get at her through the landlady. 'And why not?' said Katerina Ivanovna
with a jeer, 'you are something mighty precious to be so careful of!' But don't
blame her, don't blame her, honoured sir, don't blame her! She was not herself when
she spoke, but driven to distraction by her illness and the crying of the hungry
children; and it was said more to wound her than anything else…. For that's Katerina
Ivanovna's character, and when children cry, even from hunger, she falls to beating
them at once. At six o'clock I saw Sonia get up, put on her kerchief and her cape,
and go out of the room and about nine o'clock she came back. She walked straight
up to Katerina Ivanovna and she laid thirty roubles on the table before her in silence.
She did not utter a word, she did not even look at her, she simply picked up our
big green drap de dames shawl (we have a shawl, made of drap de dames), put it over
her head and face and lay down on the bed with her face to the wall; only her little
shoulders and her body kept shuddering…. And I went on lying there, just as before….
And then I saw, young man, I saw Katerina Ivanovna, in the same silence go up to
Sonia's little bed; she was on her knees all the evening kissing Sonia's feet, and
would not get up, and then they both fell asleep in each other's arms… together,
together… yes… and I… lay drunk."
Marmeladov stopped short, as though his voice had failed him. Then he hurriedly
filled his glass, drank, and cleared his throat.
"Since then, sir," he went on after a brief pause– "Since then, owing to an unfortunate
occurrence and through information given by evil-intentioned persons– in all which
Darya Frantsovna took a leading part on the pretext that she had been treated with
want of respect– since then my daughter Sofya Semyonovna has been forced to take
a yellow ticket, and owing to that she is unable to go on living with us. For our
landlady, Amalia Fyodorovna would not hear of it (though she had backed up Darya
Frantsovna before) and Mr. Lebeziatnikov too… hm…. All the trouble between him and
Katerina Ivanovna was on Sonia's account. At first he was for making up to Sonia
himself and then all of a sudden he stood on his dignity: 'how,' said he, 'can a
highly educated man like me live in the same rooms with a girl like that?' And Katerina
Ivanovna would not let it pass, she stood up for her… and so that's how it happened.
And Sonia comes to us now, mostly after dark; she comforts Katerina Ivanovna and
gives her all she can…. She has a room at the Kapernaumovs, the tailors, she lodges
with them; Kapernaumov is a lame man with a cleft palate and all of his numerous
family have cleft palates too. And his wife, too, has a cleft palate. They all live
in one room, but Sonia has her own, partitioned off…. Hm… yes… very poor people
and all with cleft palates… yes. Then I got up in the morning, and put on my rags,
lifted up my hands to heaven and set off to his excellency Ivan Afanasyevitch. His
excellency Ivan Afanasyevitch, do you know him? No? Well, then, it's a man of God
you don't know. He is wax… wax before the face of the Lord; even as wax melteth!…
His eyes were dim when he heard my story. 'Marmeladov, once already you have deceived
my expectations… I'll take you once more on my own responsibility'– that's what
he said, 'remember,' he said, 'and now you can go.' I kissed the dust at his feet–
in thought only, for in reality he would not have allowed me to do it, being a statesman
and a man of modern political and enlightened ideas. I returned home, and when I
announced that I'd been taken back into the service and should receive a salary,
heavens, what a to-do there was…!"
Marmeladov stopped again in violent excitement. At that moment a whole party
of revellers already drunk came in from the street, and the sounds of a hired concertina
and the cracked piping voice of a child of seven singing "The Hamlet" were heard
in the entry. The room was filled with noise. The tavern-keeper and the boys were
busy with the new-comers. Marmeladov paying no attention to the new arrivals continued
his story. He appeared by now to be extremely weak, but as he became more and more
drunk, he became more and more talkative. The recollection of his recent success
in getting the situation seemed to revive him, and was positively reflected in a
sort of radiance on his face. Raskolnikov listened attentively.
"That was five weeks ago, sir. Yes…. As soon as Katerina Ivanovna and Sonia heard
of it, mercy on us, it was as though I stepped into the 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."