The Idiot Page 5

better of it and kept hissmile back. Then he reflected, blinked his eyes, stared at his guestonce more from head to foot; then abruptly motioned him to a chair, satdown himself, and waited with some impatience for the prince to speak.

  Gania stood at his table in the far corner of the room, turning overpapers.

  “I have not much time for making acquaintances, as a rule,” said thegeneral, “but as, of course, you have your object in coming, I--”

  “I felt sure you would think I had some object in view when I resolvedto pay you this visit,” the prince interrupted; “but I give you my word,beyond the pleasure of making your acquaintance I had no personal objectwhatever.”

  “The pleasure is, of course, mutual; but life is not all pleasure, asyou are aware. There is such a thing as business, and I really do notsee what possible reason there can be, or what we have in common to--”

  “Oh, there is no reason, of course, and I suppose there is nothing incommon between us, or very little; for if I am Prince Muishkin, and yourwife happens to be a member of my house, that can hardly be called a‘reason.’ I quite understand that. And yet that was my whole motive forcoming. You see I have not been in Russia for four years, and knew verylittle about anything when I left. I had been very ill for a long time,and I feel now the need of a few good friends. In fact, I have a certainquestion upon which I much need advice, and do not know whom to go tofor it. I thought of your family when I was passing through Berlin.‘They are almost relations,’ I said to myself, ‘so I’ll begin with them;perhaps we may get on with each other, I with them and they with me, ifthey are kind people;’ and I have heard that you are very kind people!”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you, I’m sure,” replied the general, considerablytaken aback. “May I ask where you have taken up your quarters?”

  “Nowhere, as yet.”

  “What, straight from the station to my house? And how about yourluggage?”

  “I only had a small bundle, containing linen, with me, nothing more. Ican carry it in my hand, easily. There will be plenty of time to take aroom in some hotel by the evening.”

  “Oh, then you _do_ intend to take a room?”

  “Of course.”

  “To judge from your words, you came straight to my house with theintention of staying there.”

  “That could only have been on your invitation. I confess, however, thatI should not have stayed here even if you had invited me, not for anyparticular reason, but because it is--well, contrary to my practice andnature, somehow.”

  “Oh, indeed! Then it is perhaps as well that I neither _did_ invite you,nor _do_ invite you now. Excuse me, prince, but we had better make thismatter clear, once for all. We have just agreed that with regard to ourrelationship there is not much to be said, though, of course, it wouldhave been very delightful to us to feel that such relationship didactually exist; therefore, perhaps--”

  “Therefore, perhaps I had better get up and go away?” said the prince,laughing merrily as he rose from his place; just as merrily as thoughthe circumstances were by no means strained or difficult. “And I giveyou my word, general, that though I know nothing whatever of manners andcustoms of society, and how people live and all that, yet I felt quitesure that this visit of mine would end exactly as it has ended now.Oh, well, I suppose it’s all right; especially as my letter was notanswered. Well, good-bye, and forgive me for having disturbed you!”

  The prince’s expression was so good-natured at this moment, and soentirely free from even a suspicion of unpleasant feeling was thesmile with which he looked at the general as he spoke, that the lattersuddenly paused, and appeared to gaze at his guest from quite a newpoint of view, all in an instant.

  “Do you know, prince,” he said, in quite a different tone, “I do notknow you at all, yet, and after all, Elizabetha Prokofievna wouldvery likely be pleased to have a peep at a man of her own name. Wait alittle, if you don’t mind, and if you have time to spare?”

  “Oh, I assure you I’ve lots of time, my time is entirely my own!” Andthe prince immediately replaced his soft, round hat on the table. “Iconfess, I thought Elizabetha Prokofievna would very likely rememberthat I had written her a letter. Just now your servant--outsidethere--was dreadfully suspicious that I had come to beg of you. Inoticed that! Probably he has very strict instructions on that score;but I assure you I did not come to beg. I came to make some friends.But I am rather bothered at having disturbed you; that’s all I careabout.--”

  “Look here, prince,” said the general, with a cordial smile, “if youreally are the sort of man you appear to be, it may be a source of greatpleasure to us to make your better acquaintance; but, you see, I ama very busy man, and have to be perpetually sitting here and signingpapers, or off to see his excellency, or to my department, or somewhere;so that though I should be glad to see more of people, nice people--yousee, I--however, I am sure you are so well brought up that you will seeat once, and--but how old are you, prince?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  “No? I thought you very much younger.”

  “Yes, they say I have a ‘young’ face. As to disturbing you I shall soonlearn to avoid doing that, for I hate disturbing people. Besides, youand I are so differently constituted, I should think, that there must bevery little in common between us. Not that I will ever believe there is_nothing_ in common between any two people, as some declare is the case.I am sure people make a great mistake in sorting each other into groups,by appearances; but I am boring you, I see, you--”

  “Just two words: have you any means at all? Or perhaps you may beintending to undertake some sort of employment? Excuse my questioningyou, but--”

  “Oh, my dear sir, I esteem and understand your kindness in putting thequestion. No; at present I have no means whatever, and no employmenteither, but I hope to find some. I was living on other people abroad.Schneider, the professor who treated me and taught me, too, inSwitzerland, gave me just enough money for my journey, so that now Ihave but a few copecks left. There certainly is one question upon whichI am anxious to have advice, but--”

  “Tell me, how do you intend to live now, and what are your plans?” interrupted the general.

  “I wish to work, somehow or other.”

  “Oh yes, but then, you see, you are a philosopher. Have you any talents,or ability in any direction--that is, any that would bring in money andbread? Excuse me again--”

  “Oh, don’t apologize. No, I don’t think I have either talents or specialabilities of any kind; on the contrary. I have always been an invalidand unable to learn much. As for bread, I should think--”

  The general interrupted once more with questions; while the prince againreplied with the narrative we have heard before. It appeared that thegeneral had known Pavlicheff; but why the latter had taken an interestin the prince, that young gentleman could not explain; probably byvirtue of the old friendship with his father, he thought.

  The prince had been left an orphan when quite a little child, andPavlicheff had entrusted him to an old lady, a relative of his own,living in the country, the child needing the fresh air and exercise ofcountry life. He was educated, first by a governess, and afterwards by atutor, but could not remember much about this time of his life. His fitswere so frequent then, that they made almost an idiot of him (the princeused the expression “idiot” himself). Pavlicheff had met ProfessorSchneider in Berlin, and the latter had persuaded him to send the boyto Switzerland, to Schneider’s establishment there, for the cure of hisepilepsy, and, five years before this time, the prince was sent off. ButPavlicheff had died two or three years since, and Schneider had himselfsupported the young fellow, from that day to this, at his own expense.Although he had not quite cured him, he had greatly improved hiscondition; and now, at last, at the prince’s own desire, and becauseof a certain matter which came to the ears of the latter, Schneider haddespatched the young man to Russia.

  The general was much astonished.

  “Then you have no one, absolutely _no_ one in Russia?” he ask
ed.

  “No one, at present; but I hope to make friends; and then I have aletter from--”

  “At all events,” put in the general, not listening to the news about theletter, “at all events, you must have learned _something_, and yourmalady would not prevent your undertaking some easy work, in one of thedepartments, for instance?”

  “Oh dear no, oh no! As for a situation, I should much like to find onefor I am anxious to discover what I really am fit for. I have learneda good deal in the last four years, and, besides, I read a great manyRussian books.”

  “Russian books, indeed? Then, of course, you can read and write quitecorrectly?”

  “Oh dear, yes!”

  “Capital! And your handwriting?”

  “Ah, there I am _really_ talented! I may say I am a real caligraphist. Letme write you something, just to show you,” said the prince, with someexcitement.

  “With pleasure! In fact, it is very necessary. I like your readiness,prince; in fact, I must say--I--I--like you very well, altogether,” saidthe general.

  “What delightful writing materials you have here,