Crime and Punishment - Noyemi

By Fyodor Dostoevsky

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."

Marmeladov broke off, tried to smile, but suddenly his chin began to
twitch. He controlled himself however. The tavern, the degraded
appearance of the man, the five nights in the hay barge, and the pot
of spirits, and yet this poignant love for his wife and children
bewildered his listener. Raskolnikov listened intently but with a sick
sensation. He felt vexed that he had come here.

"Honoured sir, honoured sir," cried Marmeladov recovering himself--
"Oh, sir, perhaps all this seems a laughing matter to you, as it does
to others, and perhaps I am only worrying you with the stupidity of
all the trivial details of my home life, but it is not a laughing
matter to me. For I can feel it all. . . . And the whole of that
heavenly day of my life and the whole of that evening I passed in
fleeting dreams of how I would arrange it all, and how I would dress
all the children, and how I should give her rest, and how I should
rescue my own daughter from dishonour and restore her to the bosom of
her family. . . . And a great deal more. . . . Quite excusable, sir.
Well, then, sir" (Marmeladov suddenly gave a sort of start, raised his
head and gazed intently at his listener) "well, on the very next day
after all those dreams, that is to say, exactly five days ago, in the
evening, by a cunning trick, like a thief in the night, I stole from
Katerina Ivanovna the key of her box, took out what was left of my
earnings, how much it was I have forgotten, and now look at me, all of
you! It's the fifth day since I left home, and they are looking for me
there and it's the end of my employment, and my uniform is lying in a
tavern on the Egyptian bridge. I exchanged it for the garments I have
on . . . and it's the end of everything!"

Marmeladov struck his forehead with his fist, clenched his teeth,
closed his eyes and leaned heavily with his elbow on the table. But a
minute later his face suddenly changed and with a certain assumed
slyness and affectation of bravado, he glanced at Raskolnikov, laughed
and said:

"This morning I went to see Sonia, I went to ask her for a pick-me-up!
He-he-he!"

"You don't say she gave it to you?" cried one of the new-comers; he
shouted the words and went off into a guffaw.

"This very quart was bought with her money," Marmeladov declared,
addressing himself exclusively to Raskolnikov. "Thirty copecks she
gave me with her own hands, her last, all she had, as I saw. . . . She
said nothing, she only looked at me without a word. . . . Not on
earth, but up yonder . . . they grieve over men, they weep, but they
don't blame them, they don't blame them! But it hurts more, it hurts
more when they don't blame! Thirty copecks yes! And maybe she needs
them now, eh? What do you think, my dear sir? For now she's got to
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"It seems, in fact, as though the second half of a man's life is made up of nothing, but the habits he has accumulated during the first half."
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Crime and Punishment - Noyemi

By Fyodor Dostoevsky

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