“Hm, it's true,” he went on, following the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in his head, “it's true that one must 'approach a man gradually and carefully in order to find him out,' but Mr. Luzhin is clear. The main thing is that he's 'a practical man and seemskind': no joke, he took the luggage upon himself, delivers a big trunk at his own expense! Oh, yes, he's kind! And the two of them, the brideand her mother, hire a peasant and a cart, covered with straw matting (I've traveled like that)! Never mind! It's only sixty miles, and then 'we'll be quite satisfied to travel third class' for another six hundred miles. That's reasonable: cut your coat according to your cloth; but you, Mr. Luzhin, what about you? She's your bride...Can you possibly be unaware that her mother is borrowing money on her pension for the journey? Of course, you've set up a joint commercial venture here, a mutually profitable enterprise, and with equal shares, so the expenses should also be divided equally; bread and butter for all, but bring your own tobacco, as the saying goes. And even here the businessman has hoodwinked them a bit: the luggage costs less than the trip, and it may even go for nothing. Don't they both see it, or are they ignoring it on purpose? And they're pleased, pleased! And to think that this is just the blossom; the real fruit is still to come! What matters here is not the stinginess, the cheese-paring, but the toneof it all. Because that is the future tone after the marriage, a prophecy...And mother, why is she going on such a spree, incidentally? What will she have left when she gets to Petersburg? Three roubles, or two 'little bills,' as that...old crone...says. Hm! What is she hoping to live on afterwards in Petersburg? Because she already has reasons to believe that it will be impossiblefor her to live with Dunya after the marriage, even at the beginning. The dear man must have let it slipsomehow, betrayed himself, though mother waves it away with both hands: 'I shall refuse it myself,' she says. What, then, what is she hoping for? A hundred and twenty roubles of pension, minus what's owed to Afanasy Ivanovich? She also knits winter kerchiefs and embroiders cuffs, ruining her old eyes. But these kerchiefs add only twenty roubles a year to her hundred and twenty, and I know it. So they're putting their hopes on the nobility of Mr. Luzhin's feelings after alclass="underline" 'He'll suggest it himself, he'll beg us to accept.' Good luck to them! And that's how it always is with these beautiful, Schilleresque souls: [27] till the last moment they dress a man up in peacock's feathers, till the last moment they hope for the good and not the bad; and though they may have premonitions of the other side of the coin, for the life of them they will not utter a real word beforehand; the thought alone makes them cringe; they wave the truth away with both hands, till the very moment when the man they've decked out so finely sticks their noses in it with his own two hands. Curious, does Mr. Luzhin have any decorations? I'll bet he has the Anna on the breast [28] and wears her when he's invited to dinner with contractors and merchants! Maybe he'll even wear her for his wedding! Ah, anyway, devil take him! . . .
“. . . Mother, well, let her be, God bless her, that's how she is; but what about Dunya? I know you, Dunechka, my dear! You were going on twenty when we saw each other last: I already understood your character then. Mother writes that 'Dunechka can endure much.' I know she can! I knew it two and a half years ago, and for two and a half years I've been thinking about that, precisely about that, that 'Dunechka can endure much.' If she was able to endure Mr. Svidrigailov, with all the consequences, then indeed she can endure much. And now they imagine, she and mother, that one can also endure Mr. Luzhin, expounding his theory about the advantages of wives rescued from destitution by their benefactor husbands, and expounding it almost the moment they first met. Well, suppose he just 'let it slip,' though he's a rational man (in which case maybe he didn't let it slip at all, but precisely meant to explain it then and there), but Dunya, what of Dunya? The man is clear to her, and she'll have to live with this man. She could eat only black bread and wash it down with water, but she would never sell her soul, she would never trade her moral freedom for comfort; she wouldn't trade it for all Schleswig-Holstein, [29] let alone Mr. Luzhin. No, Dunya was not like that as far as I knew her, and...well, of course, she's no different now! ... What's there to talk about! Svidrigailovs are hard! It's hard to spend your life as a governess, dragging yourself around the provinces for two hundred roubles, but all the same I know that my sister would sooner go and be a black slave for a planter or a Latvian for a Baltic German [30] than demean her spirit and her moral sense by tying herself to a man she doesn't respect and with whom she can do nothing— forever, merely for her own personal profit! And even if Mr. Luzhin were made entirely of the purest gold, or a solid diamond, she still would not consent to become Mr. Luzhin's lawful concubine! Then why has she consented now? What's the catch? What's the answer? The thing is clear: for herself, for her own comfort, even to save herself from death, she wouldn't sell herself; no, she's selling herself for someone else! For a dear, beloved person she will sell herself! That's what our whole catch consists of: for her brother, for her mother, she will sell herself! She'll sell everything! Oh, in that case, given the chance, we'll even crush our moral feeling; our freedom, peace of mind, even conscience—all, all of it goes to the flea market. Perish our life! So long as these beloved beings of ours are happy. Moreover, we'll invent our own casuistry, we'll take a lesson from the Jesuits, [31] and we may even reassure ourselves for a while, convince ourselves that it's necessary, truly necessary, for a good purpose. That's exactly how we are, and it's all clear as day. It's clear that the one who gets first notice, the one who stands in the forefront, is none other than Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov. Oh, yes, of course, his happiness can be arranged, he can be kept at the university, made a partner in the office, his whole fate can be secured; maybe later he'll be rich, honored, respected, and perhaps he'll even end his life a famous man! And mother? But we're talking about Rodya, precious Rodya, her firstborn! How can she not sacrifice even such a daughter for the sake of such a firstborn son! Oh, dear and unjust hearts! Worse still, for this we might not even refuse Sonechka's lot! Sonechka, Sonechka Marmeladov, eternal Sonechka, as long as the world stands! But the sacrifice, have the two of you taken full measure of the sacrifice? Is it right? Are you strong enough? Is it any use? Is it reasonable? Do you know, Dunechka, that Sonechka's lot is in no way worse than yours with Mr. Luzhin? 'There can be no love here,' mother writes. And what if, besides love, there can be no respect either, if on the contrary there is already loathing, contempt, revulsion—what then? So it turns out once again that it will be necessary 'to observe cleanliness.' It's true, isn't it? Do you understand, do you understand what this cleanliness means? Do you understand that this Luzhinian cleanliness is just the same as Sonechka's cleanliness and maybe even worse, nastier, meaner, because in your case, Dunechka, some extra comfort can still be reckoned on, while there it's quite simply a matter of starving to death! 'It's costly, Dunechka, this cleanliness is costly!' And if it gets to be too much for you, and you repent later? Think of all the anguish, the grief, curses, tears, hidden from everyone—because you're not Marfa Petrovna, after all! And what will happen with mother then? She's uneasy, tormented even now; but then, when she sees it all clearly? And me? What, indeed, do you take me for? I don't want your sacrifice, Dunechka, I don't want it, mama! It won't happen as long as I live, it won't, it won't! I don't accept it!”
27
A broad reference to the works and ideas of the German poet and playwright Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805), who stood, in Dostoevsky's keyboard of references, for notions of the ideal, the "great and beautiful," and a simplified struggle for freedom, all with a Romantic glow. Having loved Schiller's poetry as a young man, Dostoevsky indulged in a good deal of indirect mockery of him in his later works. Further references to Schiller in
28
The Order of St. Anne (the mother of the Virgin; "Anna" in Russian) was a military and civil distinction, awarded by the tsar. It had two degrees, the higher being worn on the breast, the lower around the neck.
29
Schleswig-Holstein, in the north of Germany, bordering on Jutland, was fought over by Denmark and Prussia in the mid-1860s, before being annexed by Prussia in 1866. The struggle was much discussed in the Russian press of the time, by Dostoevsky among others.
30
The situation of Latvians under Russian rule was so bad that even poor Germans of the region considered them as slaves—another issue taken up by the Russian press in the 1860s.
31
The Jesuits (members of the Society of Jesus, a religious order founded by St. Ignatius Loyola in 1534) were popularly considered masters of casuistry.