第7章

第7章raskolnikovwasnotusedtocrowds,and,aswesaidbefore,heavoidedsocietyofeverysort,moreespeciallyoflate.butnowallatoncehefeltadesiretobewithotherpeople.somethingnewseemedtobetakingplacewithinhim,andwithithefeltasortofthirstforcompany.hewassowearyafterawholemonthofconcentratedwretchednessandgloomyexcitementthathelongedtorest,ifonlyforamoment,insomeotherworld,whateveritmightbe;and,inspiteofthefilthinessofthesurroundings,hewasgladnowtostayinthetavern.

themasteroftheestablishmentwasinanotherroom,buthefrequentlycamedownsomestepsintothemainroom,hisjaunty,tarredbootswithredturn-overtopscomingintovieweachtimebeforetherestofhisperson.heworeafullcoatandahorriblygreasyblacksatinwaistcoat,withnocravat,andhiswholefaceseemedsmearedwithoillikeanironlock.atthecounterstoodaboyofaboutfourteen,andtherewasanotherboysomewhatyoungerwhohandedwhateverwaswanted.onthecounterlaysomeslicedcucumber,somepiecesofdriedblackbread,andsomefish,choppedupsmall,allsmellingverybad.itwasinsufferablyclose,andsoheavywiththefumesofspiritsthatfiveminutesinsuchanatmospheremightwellmakeamandrunk.

therearechancemeetingswithstrangersthatinterestusfromthefirstmoment,beforeawordisspoken.suchwastheimpressionmadeonraskolnikovbythepersonsittingalittledistancefromhim,wholookedlikearetiredclerk.theyoungmanoftenrecalledthisimpressionafterwards,andevenascribedittopresentiment.helookedrepeatedlyattheclerk,partlynodoubtbecausethelatterwasstaringpersistentlyathim,obviouslyanxioustoenterintoconversation.attheotherpersonsintheroom,includingthetavern-keeper,theclerklookedasthoughhewereusedtotheircompany,andwearyofit,showingashadeofcondescendingcontemptforthemaspersonsofstationandcultureinferiortohisown,withwhomitwouldbeuselessforhimtoconverse.hewasamanoverfifty,baldandgrizzled,ofmediumheight,andstoutlybuilt.hisface,bloatedfromcontinualdrinking,wasofayellow,evengreenish,tinge,withswolleneyelidsoutofwhichkeenreddisheyesgleamedlikelittlechinks.buttherewassomethingverystrangeinhim;therewasalightinhiseyesasthoughofintensefeeling—perhapstherewereeventhoughtandintelligence,butatthesametimetherewasagleamofsomethinglikemadness.hewaswearinganoldandhopelesslyedblackdresscoat,withallitsbuttonsmissingexceptone,andthatonehehadbuttoned,evidentlyclingingtothislasttraceofrespectability.acrumpledshirtfront,coveredwithspotsandstains,protrudedfromhiscanvaswaistcoat.likeaclerk,heworenobeard,normoustache,buthadbeensolongunshaventhathischinlookedlikeastiffgreyishbrush.andtherewassomethingrespectableandlikeanofficialabouthismannertoo.buthewasrestless;heruffleduphishairandfromtimetotimelethisheaddropintohishandsdejectedlyrestinghisedelbowsonthestainedandstickytable.atlasthelookedstraightatraskolnikov,andsaidloudlyandresolutely:

“mayiventure,honouredsir,toengageyouinpoliteconversation?forasmuchas,thoughyourexteriorwouldnotcommandrespect,myexperienceadmonishesmethatyouareamanofeducationandnotaccustomedtodrinking.ihavealwaysrespectededucationwheninconjunctionwithgenuinesentiments,andiambesidesatitularcounsellorinrank.marmeladov—suchismyname;titularcounsellor.imakeboldtoinquire—haveyoubeenintheservice?”

“no,iamstudying,”answeredtheyoungman,somewhatsurprisedatthegrandiloquentstyleofthespeakerandalsoatbeingsodirectlyaddressed.inspiteofthemomentarydesirehehadjustbeenfeelingforcompanyofanysort,onbeingactuallyspokentohefeltimmediatelyhishabitualirritableanduneasyaversionforanystrangerwhoapproachedorattemptedtoapproachhim.

“astudentthen,orformerlyastudent,”criedtheclerk.“justwhatithought!i’mamanofexperience,immenseexperience,sir,”andhetappedhisforeheadwithhisfingersinself-approval.“you’vebeenastudentorhaveattendedsomelearnedinstitution!…butallowme.…”hegotup,ered,tookuphisjugandglass,andsatdownbesidetheyoungman,facinghimalittlesideways.hewasdrunk,butspokefluentlyandboldly,onlyoccasionallylosingthethreadofhissentencesanddrawlinghiswords.hepounceduponraskolnikovasgreedilyasthoughhetoohadnotspokentoasoulforamonth.

“honouredsir,”hebeganalmostwithsolemnity,“povertyisnotavice,that’satruesaying.yetiknowtoothatdrunkennessisnotavirtue,andthatthat’seventruer.butary,honouredsir,aryisavice.inpovertyyoumaystillretainyourinnatenobilityofsoul,butinary—never—noone.foraryamanisnotchasedoutofhumansocietywithastick,heissweptoutwithabroom,soastomakeitashumiliatingaspossible;andquiteright,too,forasmuchasinaryiamreadytobethefirsttohumiliatemyself.hencethepot-house!honouredsir,amonthagomr.lebeziatnikovgavemywifeabeating,andmywifeisaverydifferentmatterfromme!doyouunderstand?allowmetoaskyouanotherquestionoutofsimplecuriosity:haveyoueverspentanightonahaybarge,ontheneva?”

“no,ihavenothappenedto,”answeredraskolnikov.“whatdoyoumean?”

“well,i’vejustcomefromoneandit’sthefifthnighti’vesleptso.…”hefilledhisglass,emptieditandpaused.bitsofhaywereinfactclingingtohisclothesandstickingtohishair.itseemedquiteprobablethathehadnotundressedorwashedforthelastfivedays.hishands,particularly,werefilthy.theywerefatandred,withblacknails.