Well, as you like, I’ll humour you and change the conversation.
I am as yielding and soft as dough.
Let’s talk of you.
I like you, Ivan Petrovitch. If only you knew what a friendly, what a sincere interest I take in you.”
“Prince, wouldn’t it be better to keep to the point?” I interrupted.
“You mean talk of our affair.
I understand you with half a word, mon ami, but you don’t know how closely we are touching on the point if we speak of you and you don’t interrupt me of course.
And so I’ll go on. I wanted to tell you, my priceless Ivan Petrovitch, that to live as you’re living is simply selfdestruction, Allow me to touch on this delicate subject; I speak as a friend.
You are poor, you ask your publisher for money in advance, you pay your trivial debts, with what’s left you live for six months on tea, and shiver in your garret while you wait for your novel to be written for your publisher’s magazine. That’s so, isn’t it?
“If it is so, anyway it’s . . .”
“More creditable than stealing, cringing, taking bribes, intriguing and so on, and so on.
I know, I know what you want to say, all that’s been printed long ago.”
“And so there’s no need for you to talk about my affairs.
Surely, prince, I needn’t give you a lesson in delicacy!”
“Well, certainly you needn’t.
But what’s to be done if it’s just that delicate chord we must touch upon?
There’s no avoiding it.
But there, let’s leave garrets alone.
I’m by no means fond of them, except in certain cases,” he added with a loathsome laugh.
“But what surprises me is that you should be so set on playing a secondary part.
Certainly one of you authors, I remember, said somewhere that the greatest achievement is for a man to know how to restrict himself to a secondary role in life. . . . I believe it’s something of that sort.
I’ve heard talk of that somewhere too, but you know Alyosha has carried off your fiancee. I know that, and you, like some Schiller, are ready to go to the stake for them, you’re waiting upon them, and almost at their beck and call. . . . You must excuse me, my dear fellow, but it’s rather a sickening show of noble feeling. I should have thought you must be sick of it!
It’s really shameful!
I believe I should die of vexation in your place, and worst of all the shame of it, the shame of it!”
“Prince, you seem to have brought me here on purpose to insult me!” I cried, beside myself with anger.
“Oh no, my dear boy, not at all. At this moment I am simply a matteroffact person, and wish for nothing but your happiness.
In fact I want to put everything right.
But let’s lay all that aside for a moment; you hear me to the end, try not to lose your temper if only for two minutes.
Come, what do you think, how would it be for you to get married?
You see, I’m talking of quite extraneous matters now. Why do you look at me in such astonishment?”
“I’m waiting for you to finish,” I said, staring at him indeed with astonishment.
“But there’s no need to enlarge.
I simply wanted to know what you’d say if any one of your friends, anxious to secure your genuine permanent welfare, not a mere ephemeral happiness, were to offer you a girl, Young and pretty, but ... of some little experience; I speak allegorically but you’ll understand, after the style of Natalya Nikolaevna, say, of course with a suitable compensation (observe I am speaking of an irrelevant case, not of our affair); well, what would you say?”
“I say you’re . . . mad.”
“Hahaha!
Bah!
Why, you’re almost ready to beat me!”
I really was ready to fall upon him.
I could not have restrained myself longer.
He produced on me the impression of some sort of reptile, some huge spider, which I felt an intense desire to crush.
He was enjoying his taunts at me. He was playing with me like a cat with a mouse, supposing that I was altogether in his power.
It seemed to me (and I understood it) that he took a certain pleasure, found a certain sensual gratification in the shamelessness, in the insolence, in the cynicism with which at last he threw off his mask before me.
He wanted to enjoy my surprise, my horror.
He had a genuine contempt for me and was laughing at me.
I had a foreboding from the very beginning that this was all premeditated, and that there was some motive behind it, but I was in such a position that whatever happened I was bound to listen to him.
It was in Natasha’s interests and I was obliged to make up my mind to everything and endure it, for perhaps the whole affair was being settled at that moment.
But how could I listen to his base, cynical jeers at her expense, how could I endure this coolly!
And, to make things worse, he quite realized that I could not avoid listening to him, and that redoubled the offensiveness of it.
Yet he is in need of me himself, I reflected, and I began answering him abruptly and rudely.
He understood it.