THE Epanchin family, or at least the more serious members of it, were sometimes grieved because they seemed so unlike the rest of the world. They were not quite certain, but had at times a strong suspicion that things did not happen to them as they did to other people. Others led a quiet, uneventful life, while they were subject to continual upheavals. Others kept on the rails without difficulty; they ran off at the slightest obstacle. Other houses were governed by a timid routine; theirs was somehow different. Perhaps Lizabetha Prokofievna was alone in making these fretful observations; the girls, though not wanting in intelligence, were still young; the general was intelligent, too, but narrow, and in any difficulty he was content to say, "H'm!" and leave the matter to his wife. Consequently, on her fell the responsibility. It was not that they distinguished themselves as a family by any particular originality, or that their excursions off the track led to any breach of the proprieties. Oh no.
There was nothing premeditated, there was not even any conscious purpose in it all, and yet, in spite of everything, the family, although highly respected, was not quite what every highly respected family ought to be. For a long time now Lizabetha Prokofievna had had it in her mind that all the trouble was owing to her "unfortunate character, "and this added to her distress. She blamed her own stupid unconventional "eccentricity." Always restless, always on the go, she constantly seemed to lose her way, and to get into trouble over the simplest and more ordinary affairs of life.
We said at the beginning of our story, that the Epanchins were liked and esteemed by their neighbours. In spite of his humble origin, Ivan Fedorovitch himself was received everywhere with respect. He deserved this, partly on account of his wealth and position, partly because, though limited, he was really a very good fellow. But a certain limitation of mind seems to be an indispensable asset, if not to all public personages, at least to all serious financiers. Added to this, his manner was modest and unassuming; he knew when to be silent, yet never allowed himself to be trampled upon. Also--and this was more important than all-- he had the advantage of being under exalted patronage.
As to Lizabetha Prokofievna, she, as the reader knows, belonged to an aristocratic family. True, Russians think more of influential friends than of birth, but she had both. She was esteemed and even loved by people of consequence in society, whose example in receiving her was therefore followed by others. It seems hardly necessary to remark that her family worries and anxieties had little or no foundation, or that her imagination increased them to an absurd degree; but if you have a wart on your forehead or nose, you imagine that all the world is looking at it, and that people would make fun of you because of it, even if you had discovered America! Doubtless Lizabetha Prokofievna was considered "eccentric" in society, but she was none the less esteemed: the pity was that she was ceasing to believe in that esteem. When she thought of her daughters, she said to herself sorrowfully that she was a hindrance rather than a help to their future, that her character and temper were absurd, ridiculous, insupportable. Naturally, she put the blame on her surroundings, and from morning to night was quarrelling with her husband and children, whom she really loved to the point of self-sacrifice, even, one might say, of passion.
She was, above all distressed by the idea that her daughters might grow up "eccentric," like herself; she believed that no other society girls were like them. "They are growing into Nihilists!" she repeated over and over again. For years she had tormented herself with this idea, and with the question: "Why don't they get married?"
"It is to annoy their mother; that is their one aim in life; it can be nothing else. The fact is it is all of a piece with these modern ideas, that wretched woman's question! Six months ago Aglaya took a fancy to cut off her magnificent hair. Why, even I, when I was young, had nothing like it! The scissors were in her hand, and I had to go down on my knees and implore her... She did it, I know, from sheer mischief, to spite her mother, for she is a naughty, capricious girl, a real spoiled child spiteful and mischievous to a degree! And then Alexandra wanted to shave her head, not from caprice or mischief, but, like a little fool, simply because Aglaya persuaded her she would sleep better without her hair, and not suffer from headache! And how many suitors have they not had during the last five years! Excellent offers, too! What more do they want? Why don't they get married? For no other reason than to vex their mother--none--none!"
But Lizabetha Prokofievna felt somewhat consoled when she could say that one of her girls, Adelaida, was settled at last. "It will be one off our hands!" she declared aloud, though in private she expressed herself with greater tenderness. The engagement was both happy and suitable, and was therefore approved in society. Prince S. was a distinguished man, he had money, and his future wife was devoted to him; what more could be desired? Lizabetha Prokofievna had felt less anxious about this daughter, however, although she considered her artistic tastes suspicious. But to make up for them she was, as her mother expressed it, "merry," and had plenty of "common-sense." It was Aglaya's future which disturbed her most. With regard to her eldest daughter, Alexandra, the mother never quite knew whether there was cause for anxiety or not. Sometimes she felt as if there was nothing to be expected from her. She was twenty-five now, and must be fated to be an old maid, and "with such beauty, too!" The mother spent whole nights in weeping and lamenting, while all the time the cause of her grief slumbered peacefully. "What is the matter with her? Is she a Nihilist, or simply a fool?"
But Lizabetha Prokofievna knew perfectly well how unnecessary was the last question. She set a high value on Alexandra Ivanovna's judgment, and often consulted her in difficulties; but that she was a 'wet hen' she never for a moment doubted. "She is so calm; nothing rouses her--though wet hens are not always calm! Oh! I can't understand it!" Her eldest daughter inspired Lizabetha with a kind of puzzled compassion. She did not feel this in Aglaya's case, though the latter was her idol. It may be said that these outbursts and epithets, such as "wet hen "(in which the maternal solicitude usually showed itself), only made Alexandra laugh. Sometimes the most trivial thing annoyed Mrs. Epanchin, and drove her into a frenzy. For instance, Alexandra Ivanovna liked to sleep late, and was always dreaming, though her dreams had the peculiarity of being as innocent and naive as those of a child of seven; and the very innocence of her dreams annoyed her mother. Once she dreamt of nine hens, and this was the cause of quite a serious quarrel--no one knew why. Another time she had--it was most unusual--a dream with a spark of originality in it. She dreamt of a monk in a dark room, into which she was too frightened to go. Adelaida and Aglaya rushed off with shrieks of laughter to relate this to their mother, but she was quite angry, and said her daughters were all fools.
"H'm! she is as stupid as a fool! A veritable 'wet hen'! Nothing excites her; and yet she is not happy; some days it makes one miserable only to look at her! Why is she unhappy, I wonder?" At times Lizabetha Prokofievna put this question to her husband, and as usual she spoke in the threatening tone of one who demands an immediate answer. Ivan Fedorovitch would frown, shrug his shoulders, and at last give his opinion: "She needs a husband!"
"God forbid that he should share your ideas, Ivan Fedorovitch!" his wife flashed back. "Or that he should be as gross and churlish as you!"
The general promptly made his escape, and Lizabetha Prokofievna after a while grew calm again. That evening, of course, she would be unusually attentive, gentle, and respectful to her "gross and churlish" husband, her "dear, kind Ivan Fedorovitch," for she had never left off loving him. She was even still "in love" with him. He knew it well, and for his part held her in the greatest esteem.
But the mother's great and continual anxiety was Aglaya. "She is exactly like me--my image in everything," said Mrs. Epanchin to herself. "A tyrant! A real little demon! A Nihilist! Eccentric, senseless and mischievous! Good Lord, how unhappy she will be!"
But as we said before, the fact of Adelaida's approaching marriage was balm to the mother. For a whole month she forgot her fears and worries.
Adelaida's fate was settled; and with her name that of Aglaya's was linked, in society gossip. People whispered that Aglaya, too, was "as good as engaged;" and Aglaya always looked so sweet and behaved so well (during this period), that the mother's heart was full of joy. Of course, Evgenie Pavlovitch must be thoroughly studied first, before the final step should be taken; but, really, how lovely dear Aglaya had become--she actually grew more beautiful every day! And then--Yes, and then--this abominable prince showed his face again, and everything went topsy-turvy at once, and everyone seemed as mad as March hares.
What had really happened?
If it had been any other family than the Epanchins', nothing particular would have happened. But, thanks to Mrs. Epanchin's invariable fussiness and anxiety, there could not be the slightest hitch in the simplest matters of everyday life, but she immediately foresaw the most dreadful and alarming consequences, and suffered accordingly.
What then must have been her condition, when, among all the imaginary anxieties and calamities which so constantly beset her, she now saw looming ahead a serious cause for annoyance-- something really likely to arouse doubts and suspicions!
"How dared they, how DARED they write that hateful anonymous letter informing me that Aglaya is in communication with Nastasia Philipovna?" she thought, as she dragged the prince along towards her own house, and again when she sat him down at the round table where the family was already assembled. "How dared they so much as THINK of such a thing? I should DIE with shame if I thought there was a particle of truth in it, or if I were to show the letter to Aglaya herself! Who dares play these jokes upon US, the Epanchins? WHY didn't we go to the Yelagin instead of coming down here? I TOLD you we had better go to the Yelagin this summer, Ivan Fedorovitch. It's all your fault. I dare say it was that Varia who sent the letter. It's all Ivan Fedorovitch. THAT woman is doing it all for him, I know she is, to show she can make a fool of him now just as she did when he used to give her pearls.
"But after all is said, we are mixed up in it. Your daughters are mixed up in it, Ivan Fedorovitch; young ladies in society, young ladies at an age to be married; they were present, they heard everything there was to hear. They were mixed up with that other scene, too, with those dreadful youths. You must be pleased to remember they heard it all. I cannot forgive that wretched prince. I never shall forgive him! And why, if you please, has Aglaya had an attack of nerves for these last three days? Why has she all but quarrelled with her sisters, even with Alexandra-- whom she respects so much that she always kisses her hands as though she were her mother? What are all these riddles of hers that we have to guess? What has Gavrila Ardalionovitch to do with it? Why did she take upon herself to champion him this morning, and burst into tears over it? Why is there an allusion to that cursed 'poor knight' in the anonymous letter? And why did I rush off to him just now like a lunatic, and drag him back here? I do believe I've gone mad at last. What on earth have I done now? To talk to a young man about my daughter's secrets--and secrets having to do with himself, too! Thank goodness, he's an idiot, and a friend of the house! Surely Aglaya hasn't fallen in love with such a gaby! What an idea! Pfu! we ought all to be put under glass cases--myself first of all--and be shown off as curiosities, at ten copecks a peep!"
"I shall never forgive you for all this, Ivan Fedorovitch--never! Look at her now. Why doesn't she make fun of him? She said she would, and she doesn't. Look there! She stares at him with all her eyes, and doesn't move; and yet she told him not to come. He looks pale enough; and that abominable chatterbox, Evgenie Pavlovitch, monopolizes the whole of the conversation. Nobody else can get a word in. I could soon find out all about everything if I could only change the subject."
The prince certainly was very pale. He sat at the table and seemed to be feeling, by turns, sensations of alarm and rapture.
Oh, how frightened he was of looking to one side--one particular corner--whence he knew very well that a pair of dark eyes were watching him intently, and how happy he was to think that he was once more among them, and occasionally hearing that well-known voice, although she had written and forbidden him to come again!
"What on earth will she say to me, I wonder?" he thought to himself.
He had not said a word yet; he sat silent and listened to Evgenie Pavlovitch's eloquence. The latter had never appeared so happy and excited as on this evening. The prince listened to him, but for a long time did not take in a word he said.
Excepting Ivan Fedorovitch, who had not as yet returned from town, the whole family was present. Prince S. was there; and they all intended to go out to hear the band very soon.
Colia arrived presently and joined the circle. "So he is received as usual, after all," thought the prince.
The Epanchins' country-house was a charming building, built after the model of a Swiss chalet, and covered with creepers. It was surrounded on all sides by a flower garden, and the family sat, as a rule, on the open verandah as at the prince's house.
The subject under discussion did not appear to be very popular with the assembly, and some would have been delighted to change it; but Evgenie would not stop holding forth, and the prince's arrival seemed to spur him on to still further oratorical efforts.
Lizabetha Prokofievna frowned, but had not as yet grasped the subject, which seemed to have arisen out of a heated argument. Aglaya sat apart, almost in the corner, listening in stubborn silence.
"Excuse me," continued Evgenie Pavlovitch hotly, "I don't say a word against liberalism. Liberalism is not a sin, it is a necessary part of a great whole, which whole would collapse and fall to pieces without it. Liberalism has just as much right to exist as has the most moral conservatism; but I am attacking RUSSIAN liberalism; and I attack it for the simple reason that a Russian liberal is not a Russian liberal, he is a non-Russian liberal. Show me a real Russian liberal, and I'll kiss him before you all, with pleasure."
"If he cared to kiss you, that is," said Alexandra, whose cheeks were red with irritation and excitement.
"Look at that, now," thought the mother to herself, "she does nothing but sleep and eat for a year at a time, and then suddenly flies out in the most incomprehensible way!"
The prince observed that Alexandra appeared to be angry with Evgenie, because he spoke on a serious subject in a frivolous manner, pretending to be in earnest, but with an under-current of irony.
"I was saying just now, before you came in, prince, that there has been nothing national up to now, about our liberalism, and nothing the liberals do, or have done, is in the least degree national. They are drawn from two classes only, the old landowning class, and clerical families--"
"How, nothing that they have done is Russian?" asked Prince S.
"It may be Russian, but it is not national. Our liberals are not Russian, nor are our conservatives, and you may be sure that the nation does not recognize anything that has been done by the landed gentry, or by the seminarists, or what is to be done either."
"Come, that's good! How can you maintain such a paradox? If you are serious, that is. I cannot allow such a statement about the landed proprietors to pass unchallenged. Why, you are a landed proprietor yourself!" cried Prince S. hotly.
"I suppose you'll say there is nothing national about our literature either?" said Alexandra.
"Well, I am not a great authority on literary questions, but I certainly do hold that Russian literature is not Russian, except perhaps Lomonosoff, Pouschkin and Gogol."
"In the first place, that is a considerable admission, and in the second place, one of the above was a peasant, and the other two were both landed proprietors!"
"Quite so, but don't be in such a hurry! For since it has been the part of these three men, and only these three, to say something absolutely their own, not borrowed, so by this very fact these three men become really national. If any Russian shall have done or said anything really and absolutely original, he is to be called national from that moment, though he may not be able to talk the Russian language; still he is a national Russian. I consider that an axiom. But we were not speaking of literature; we began by discussing the socialists. Very well then, I insist that there does not exist one single Russian socialist. There does not, and there has never existed such a one, because all socialists are derived from the two classes--the landed proprietors, and the seminarists. All our eminent socialists are merely old liberals of the class of landed proprietors, men who were liberals in the days of serfdom. Why do you laugh? Give me their books, give me their studies, their memoirs, and though I am not a literary critic, yet I will prove as clear as day that every chapter and every word of their writings has been the work of a former landed proprietor of the old school. You'll find that all their raptures, all their generous transports are proprietary, all their woes and their tears, proprietary; all proprietary or seminarist! You are laughing again, and you, prince, are smiling too. Don't you agree with me?"
It was true enough that everybody was laughing, the prince among them.
"I cannot tell you on the instant whether I agree with you or not," said the latter, suddenly stopping his laughter, and starting like a schoolboy caught at mischief. "But, I assure you, I am listening to you with extreme gratification."
So saying, he almost panted with agitation, and a cold sweat stood upon his forehead. These were his first words since he had entered the house; he tried to lift his eyes, and look around, but dared not; Evgenie Pavlovitch noticed his confusion, and smiled.
"I take all that you have said as a joke," said Prince S. seriously.
"I have not seen all kinds of liberals, and cannot, therefore, set myself up as a judge," said Alexandra, "but I have heard all you have said with indignation. You have taken some accidental case and twisted it into a universal law, which is unjust."
"Accidental case!" said Evgenie Pavlovitch. "Do you consider it an accidental case, prince?"
"I must also admit," said the prince, "that I have not seen much, or been very far into the question; but I cannot help thinking that you are more or less right, and that Russian liberalism-- that phase of it which you are considering, at least--really is sometimes inclined to hate Russia itself, and not only its existing order of things in general. Of course this is only PARTIALLY the truth; you cannot lay down the law for all..."
The prince blushed and broke off, without finishing what he meant to say.
In spite of his shyness and agitation, he could not help being greatly interested in the conversation. A special characteristic of his was the naive candour with which he always listened to arguments which interested him, and with which he answered any questions put to him on the subject at issue. In the very expression of his face this naivete was unmistakably evident, this disbelief in the insincerity of others, and unsuspecting disregard of irony or humour in their words.
But though Evgenie Pavlovitch had put his questions to the prince with no other purpose but to enjoy the joke of his simple-minded seriousness, yet now, at his answer, he was surprised into some seriousness himself, and looked gravely at Muishkin as though he had not expected that sort of answer at all.
"Why, how strange!" he ejaculated. "You didn't answer me seriously, surely, did you?"
"Did not you ask me the question seriously" inquired the prince, in amazement.
Everybody laughed.
"Oh, trust HIM for that!" said Adelaida. "Evgenie Pavlovitch turns everything and everybody he can lay hold of to ridicule. You should hear the things he says sometimes, apparently in perfect seriousness."
"In my opinion the conversation has been a painful one throughout, and we ought never to have begun it," said Alexandra. "We were all going for a walk--"
"Come along then," said Evgenie; "it's a glorious evening. But, to prove that this time I was speaking absolutely seriously, and especially to prove this to the prince (for you, prince, have interested me exceedingly, and I swear to you that I am not quite such an ass as I like to appear sometimes, although I am rather an ass, I admit), and--well, ladies and gentlemen, will you allow me to put just one more question to the prince, out of pure curiosity? It shall be the last. This question came into my mind a couple of hours since (you see, prince, I do think seriously at times), and I made my own decision upon it; now I wish to hear what the prince will say to it."
"We have just used the expression 'accidental case.' This is a significant phrase; we often hear it. Well, not long since everyone was talking and reading about that terrible murder of six people on the part of a--young fellow, and of the extraordinary speech of the counsel for the defence, who observed that in the poverty-stricken condition of the criminal it must have come NATURALLY into his head to kill these six people. I do not quote his words, but that is the sense of them, or something very like it. Now, in my opinion, the barrister who put forward this extraordinary plea was probably absolutely convinced that he was stating the most liberal, the most humane, the most enlightened view of the case that could possibly be brought forward in these days. Now, was this distortion, this capacity for a perverted way of viewing things, a special or accidental case, or is such a general rule?"
Everyone laughed at this.
"A special case--accidental, of course!" cried Alexandra and Adelaida.
"Let me remind you once more, Evgenie," said Prince S., "that your joke is getting a little threadbare."
"What do you think about it, prince?" asked Evgenie, taking no notice of the last remark, and observing Muishkin's serious eyes fixed upon his face. "What do you think--was it a special or a usual case--the rule, or an exception? I confess I put the question especially for you."
"No, I don't think it was a special case," said the prince, quietly, but firmly.
"My dear fellow!" cried Prince S., with some annoyance, "don't you see that he is chaffing you? He is simply laughing at you, and wants to make game of you."
"I thought Evgenie Pavlovitch was talking seriously," said the prince, blushing and dropping his eyes.
"My dear prince," continued Prince S. "remember what you and I were saying two or three months ago. We spoke of the fact that in our newly opened Law Courts one could already lay one's finger upon so many talented and remarkable young barristers. How pleased you were with the state of things as we found it, and how glad I was to observe your delight! We both said it was a matter to be proud of; but this clumsy defence that Evgenie mentions, this strange argument CAN, of course, only be an accidental case --one in a thousand!"
The prince reflected a little, but very soon he replied, with absolute conviction in his tone, though he still spoke somewhat shyly and timidly:
"I only wished to say that this 'distortion,' as Evgenie Pavlovitch expressed it, is met with very often, and is far more the general rule than the exception, unfortunately for Russia. So much so, that if this distortion were not the general rule, perhaps these dreadful crimes would be less frequent."
"Dreadful crimes? But I can assure you that crimes just as dreadful, and probably more horrible, have occurred before our times, and at all times, and not only here in Russia, but everywhere else as well. And in my opinion it is not at all likely that such murders will cease to occur for a very long time to come. The only difference is that in former times there was less publicity, while now everyone talks and writes freely about such things--which fact gives the impression that such crimes have only now sprung into existence. That is where your mistake lies--an extremely natural mistake, I assure you, my dear fellow!" said Prince S.
"I know that there were just as many, and just as terrible, crimes before our times. Not long since I visited a convict prison and made acquaintance with some of the criminals. There were some even more dreadful criminals than this one we have been speaking of--men who have murdered a dozen of their fellow- creatures, and feel no remorse whatever. But what I especially noticed was this, that the very most hopeless and remorseless murderer--however hardened a criminal he may be--still KNOWS THAT HE IS A CRIMINAL; that is, he is conscious that he has acted wickedly, though he may feel no remorse whatever. And they were all like this. Those of whom Evgenie Pavlovitch has spoken, do not admit that they are criminals at all; they think they had a right to do what they did, and that they were even doing a good deed, perhaps. I consider there is the greatest difference between the two cases. And recollect--it was a YOUTH, at the particular age which is most helplessly susceptible to the distortion of ideas!"
Prince S. was now no longer smiling; he gazed at the prince in bewilderment.
Alexandra, who had seemed to wish to put in her word when the prince began, now sat silent, as though some sudden thought had caused her to change her mind about speaking.
Evgenie Pavlovitch gazed at him in real surprise, and this time his expression of face had no mockery in it whatever.
"What are you looking so surprised about, my friend?" asked Mrs. Epanchin, suddenly. "Did you suppose he was stupider than yourself, and was incapable of forming his own opinions, or what?"
"No! Oh no! Not at all!" said Evgenie. "But--how is it, prince, that you--(excuse the question, will you?)--if you are capable of observing and seeing things as you evidently do, how is it that you saw nothing distorted or perverted in that claim upon your property, which you acknowledged a day or two since; and which was full of arguments founded upon the most distorted views of right and wrong?"
"I'll tell you what, my friend," cried Mrs. Epanchin, of a sudden, "here are we all sitting here and imagining we are very clever, and perhaps laughing at the prince, some of us, and meanwhile he has received a letter this very day in which that same claimant renounces his claim, and begs the prince's pardon. There I we don't often get that sort of letter; and yet we are not ashamed to walk with our noses in the air before him."
"And Hippolyte has come down here to stay," said Colia, suddenly.
"What! has he arrived?" said the prince, starting up.
"Yes, I brought him down from town just after you had left the house."
"There now! It's just like him," cried Lizabetha Prokofievna, boiling over once more, and entirely oblivious of the fact that she had just taken the prince's part. "I dare swear that you went up to town yesterday on purpose to get the little wretch to do you the great honour of coming to stay at your house. You did go up to town, you know you did--you said so yourself! Now then, did you, or did you not, go down on your knees and beg him to come, confess!"
"No, he didn't, for I saw it all myself," said Colia. "On the contrary, Hippolyte kissed his hand twice and thanked him; and all the prince said was that he thought Hippolyte might feel better here in the country!"
"Don't, Colia,--what is the use of saying all that?" cried the prince, rising and taking his hat.
"Where are you going to now?" cried Mrs. Epanchin.
"Never mind about him now, prince," said Colia. "He is all right and taking a nap after the journey. He is very happy to be here; but I think perhaps it would be better if you let him alone for today,--he is very sensitive now that he is so ill--and he might be embarrassed if you show him too much attention at first. He is decidedly better today, and says he has not felt so well for the last six months, and has coughed much less, too."
The prince observed that Aglaya came out of her corner and approached the table at this point.
He did not dare look at her, but he was conscious, to the very tips of his fingers, that she was gazing at him, perhaps angrily; and that she had probably flushed up with a look of fiery indignation in her black eyes.
"It seems to me, Mr. Colia, that you were very foolish to bring your young friend down--if he is the same consumptive boy who wept so profusely, and invited us all to his own funeral," remarked Evgenie Pavlovitch. "He talked so eloquently about the blank wall outside his bedroom window, that I'm sure he will never support life here without it. "
"I think so too," said Mrs. Epanchin; "he will quarrel with you, and be off," and she drew her workbox towards her with an air of dignity, quite oblivious of the fact that the family was about to start for a walk in the park.
"Yes, I remember he boasted about the blank wall in an extraordinary way," continued Evgenie, "and I feel that without that blank wall he will never be able to die eloquently; and he does so long to die eloquently!"
"Oh, you must forgive him the blank wall," said the prince, quietly. "He has come down to see a few trees now, poor fellow."
"Oh, I forgive him with all my heart; you may tell him so if you like," laughed Evgenie.
"I don't think you should take it quite like that," said the prince, quietly, and without removing his eyes from the carpet. "I think it is more a case of his forgiving you "
"Forgiving me! why so? What have I done to need his forgiveness?"
"If you don't understand, then--but of course, you do understand. He wished--he wished to bless you all round and to have your blessing--before he died--that's all."
"My dear prince," began Prince S., hurriedly, exchanging glances with some of those present, "you will not easily find heaven on earth, and yet you seem to expect to. Heaven is a difficult thing to find anywhere, prince; far more difficult than appears to that good heart of yours. Better stop this conversation, or we shall all be growing quite disturbed in our minds, and--"
"Let's go and hear the band, then," said Lizabetha Prokofievna, angrily rising from her place.
The rest of the company followed her example.
时常不断有人抱怨，说我们没有实干的人；比方说搞政治的人很多；将军也很多；各种各样的主管人员，无论需要多少，立即可以要多少找到多少，可是实干的人却没有。至少大家都在抱怨没有。据说，在有些铁路上连像样的工作人员都没有；某家轮船公司要建立一套勉勉强强可以将就的管理班子，据说，怎么也做不到。你听说吗，在一条新开辟的铁路线上火车在桥上相撞还是翻车了；报上写着，火车差点在皑皑雪野上过冬，开了才几小时，在雪地里却停了五天。还有人说，九千普特的商品堆放在一个地方两三个月等待运发以至腐烂，据说（不过，这简直难以置信）。某个商人的雇员缠着主管人员，也就是某个站长，要求发运货物，可是站长不是发货是用刷耳光进行管理，而且还用“一时气急”来解释自己这种管理方式。似乎国家机关中的衙门多得想都不敢想；大家都供过职，大家都在供职，大家都有意供职，似乎，这么多的人才，怎么会组建不起一套像样的轮船公司的管理班子呢？
对此有时候得到的是极为简单的回答，简单得甚至叫人不相信这样的解释。确实，据说，我国大家都供过公职或正在供公职，这是按照最好的日耳曼的模式从远祖到后代已经延续了两百年的传统，但是担任公职的人却是最不实干的人，这发展到了这种地步：不久前，脱离现实，缺少实际知识在公职人员之间甚至几乎被认为是最高尚的美德和受推荐的理由。不过，我们白白议论了公职人员，我们想讲的其实是实干的人。这里没有疑问，胆小怕事、完全缺少个人的主动精神常常被我们认为是一个实干的人最主要和最好的特征，甚至现在还这么看。但是，如果认为这种意见是指责，又何必仅仅谴责自己呢？缺少独创性自古以来在全世界到处总是被看做一个干练、能干、实干所具备的第一品质和最好的推荐理曲。至少有百分之九十九的人（这还是至少）抱有这种想法，只有百分之一的人过去和现在经常持有另一种看法。
发明家和天才在开始自己生涯（也常常在生命结束）时几乎总是在社会上被视为不比傻瓜好多少的人，这可是最因循守旧的意见，太为众人所晓了。例如，几十年间大家都把钱拿到抵押银行里去，按百分之四的利息存到那里几十亿，那么，在没有抵押银行时，大家自然就只有发挥自己的主动性，这亿万资金的大部分必然丧失在狂热的股票买卖中或者落到骗子手中，这甚至是符合体面和品行端正的要求的。正是品行端正的要求；既然品行端正的谨小慎微和体面的缺少独创性，按照公认的见解，在我国至今还是一个能干正派的人不可或缺的品质，那么突然发生改变就会是太不正派，甚至太不体面。比如，一个柔爱自己孩子的母亲，如果她的儿子或者女儿将来要稍稍越出轨道，她不会吓坏和吓出病来的：“不，最好还是幸福富足地过日子，不要独具一格”，每个母亲在摇蓝里自己的孩子时都这么想。我们的保姆在摇孩子入睡的同时，自古以来念念有词，轻声哼唱着：“日后一身金，官衔至将军！”就这样，连我们的保姆也认为将军衔是俄国幸福的极限，因而也是太平安康、美满幸福的最普遍的民族理想。事实是，考试及格、任职３５年，最后我们谁不能当上将军并在抵押银行里存上一笔钱呢？这样，一个俄国人几乎无须任何努力，最终就能得到能干和实干的人的称号。实质上，我国不能当将军的只有富于独创性的，换句话说，就是不安分的人。也许，这里有某种误解；但是，总的来说，这好像是正确的，我们的社会在确定实干家的理想时完全是对的。但是我们毕竟说了大多的多余话；其实，我们只是想就有关我们熟悉的叶潘钦一家做些说明。这些人，至少是这个家庭中最有头脑的成员，经常会对几乎是他们共有的上种家庭品质感到痛苦，因为这种品质与我们刚才所议论的美德是直接对立的。他们对事实并不完全理解（因为很难理解它），他们有时仍然怀疑，他们家里的一切似乎和人家不一样。人家家里平平稳稳，他们家里却别别扭扭；人家都沿着轨道滚动，而他们却时时跳出轨道；人家时时刻刻规规矩矩谨小慎微。而他们不是这样。确实，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜甚至过分大惊小怪，但毕竟这不是他们渴念的那种世俗的规规矩矩的谨小慎微。其实，大概也只有叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜一个人在担忧不安：小姐们还年轻，虽然她们很有洞察力，对世事持讽刺的态度，而将军尽管也具洞实力（不过，颇为费劲），但在为难的情况下只会说：嗯，因此最后便把一切希望寄托在叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜身上。所以，她也就肩负着责任。比方说，并菲是这个家庭有什么自己的主动精神或者自觉追求独特性而跃出轨道，那就完全是不体面的。噢，不！真正他说，丝毫没有这样的事，也就是说没有任何自觉提出的目的，而最终的结果仍然是，叶潘钦家虽然非常受人尊敬，但毕竟不像一般受人尊敬的家庭应该的那样。近来叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜开始把一切都归罪于自己一个人和自己那“倒霉的”性格，阿格拉娅更加深了她的痛苦。她自己时常痛骂自己是个“愚蠢的，有失体面的怪女人”，疑神疑鬼得自寻烦恼，经常心绪纷乱，在最平常的冲突中也会束手无策而且总是夸大不幸。
还是在故事开始的时候我们已经提到，叶潘钦一家享有普遍的真正的尊敬。甚至伊万·费奥多罗维奇本人尽管出身愚昧，却不容置疑地到处受到尊敬。他之所以能值得尊敬，第一是因为他是个富有的人并且是个“数得着的人”，第二是因为他完全是个正派的人，虽然才智不高。但是头脑有些愚钝如果不是所有事业家似乎必须具备的品质，那么也至少是所有认真赚钱的人应该有的特点。最后一点，将军有规规矩矩的风范，为人谦逊，善于沉默同时也不让别人踩自己的脚，不光因为他是个有将军身份的人，也因为他是个正直和高尚的人。更重要的是，他是个有着强有力靠山的人。至于说到叶莉扎维塔·普罗科罪耶夫娜，那么前面已经说明过，出身很好，虽然我们现在不大看重出身，如果没有必要的关系的话是这样。而她毕竟是有关系的、有那么一些人尊敬她，而且还喜欢她，自然，在他们后面大家也就应该尊敬和善待她了。没有疑问，她的家庭烦恼是没有根据的，原因是微不足道的，而且被夸大到可笑的程度；但是如果谁的鼻子上或者额头上长了个疣子，那么总会觉得，对所有的人来说世上过去和现在就只有一件事，那就是看您长的疣子，嘲笑它，谴责它，即使您发现了美洲新大陆也于事无补。毫无疑问，在社交界叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜确实被看作是个“怪女人”，但与此同时，毫无疑义都尊敬她；而叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜终于不再相信人家尊敬她，这就是全部不幸的症结。望着自己的女儿们，她为怀疑所苦恼，她担心自己不断地会有什么地方阻碍着她们的前程，觉得自己的性格可笑，有失体面，令人难以忍受，为此，当然总是不停地指责自己的女儿和伊万·费奥多罗维奇，整天跟他们吵架，而同时又爱他们，爱到忘我，几乎到狂热的地步。
最使她苦恼的是，她怀疑她的女儿们正在变成跟她一样的“怪女人”，而像她们这样的小姐在上流社会是没有的，也是不应该有的。“她们只会长成虚无主义者！”她时常暗自说。这一年里，特别是最近这段时间，这个忧心的启头在她头脑里越来越强烈。“首先，她们为什么不出嫁？”她时刻询问自己。“为的是让母亲烦恼，她们就把这看做是自己的生活目的，当然是这样，因为这一切是新思潮，这一切是可诅咒的妇女问题！半年前阿格拉娅不是曾经贸然提出来要剪掉自己那绝好的秀发吗了（天哪，我那个时候根本就没有这么好的头发！）不是剪刀都已经拿在手里了吗？不是跪下来求她才没剪的吗？……就算这一个是出了恶意这么做，要折磨母亲，因为这丫头心狠、任性、娇纵惯了，但主要是心狠，心狠、心狠！可是这个胖胖的亚历山德拉难道不也是跟在她后面竭力要剪自己那一络络长发吗？她可已经不是因为恶意，不是因为任性，而是真心诚意的，阿格拉娅使这个傻瓜相信了，没有头发她睡起觉来就会安宁些，头也不会痛了。已经五年了，有过多多少少多多少少未婚夫供她们挑啊！而且确实有很好的人，甚至是非常出众的人！她们还要等什么，还要找什么？只是要让母亲气恼，没有别的任何原因！没有任何原因，绝对没有！”
终于，对于的她这颗母亲的心来说盼到了太阳升起；至少是一个女儿，至少是给阿杰莱达安排好了亲事。“那怕是从肩上卸掉一个也好！”有时必须得说出来时，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜会这样说（她暗自思忖时的表达则无比温柔）而且整个事情进行得很好，很体面；连上流社会谈起来也怀有敬意。这个人有名声，是公爵，有财产，人又好，加上称她的心，难道还有更好的？但是对阿杰莱达比起对另外两个女儿来，她原先就较少担心，虽然她那种艺本家的习性有时也使叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜不停地怀疑的心非常困惑。“然而她的生性快活，同时又很有理智，看来，这丫头不会倒霉，”她终于有所安慰。对阿格拉娅她是最为担惊受怕的了。至于说到大女儿亚历山德拉，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜自己也不知道，该怎么办：要不要为她担心？她有时觉得，“这丫头彻底完了，２５岁了，看来，就做个老姑娘了。而她，又“这么漂亮！……”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜甚至夜里常为她流泪，而就在那些夜里亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜却睡得最安宁。“她是个什么人，是虚无主义者还是不过是个傻瓜？”她并不傻、其实，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜对此丝毫也不存怀疑；她是非常尊重亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜的见解并且喜欢跟她商量。至于说她像只 “落汤鸡”，也是不存任何疑问的：“她安宁得推也推不动！不过，‘落汤鸡’也有不安宁的，唉！我可完全被她们弄糊涂了！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜对亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜有一种难以解释的同情和好感，这种感情甚于对被她看做是偶像的阿格拉娅。但是，易动肝火的乖戾（主要的，这正表现了母亲的关切和喜爱之情），招惹生事，诸如“落汤鸡”这样的称呼只是使亚历山德拉觉得好笑。有时甚至达到这样的地步：一点点小事也会使叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜气得不得了，大发脾气。比如，亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜喜欢睡懒觉，通常要做许多梦；但是她的梦往往异常空泛和幼稚——对７岁的孩子来说还差不多；于是，这种幼稚的梦境也不知为什么使妈妈生气。有一次亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜在梦里见到了九只母鸡，竟因此引出了她和母亲之间的一场正儿八经的争吵。为什么？很难解释清楚，有一次，就只一次，她总算梦见了什么似乎是独特的梦境：她看见了一个和尚，他一个人在漆黑的房间里，她就一直怕进那个房间。这个梦马上就由两个哈哈大笑的妹妹喜盈盈地转告给叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜听了，但奴蚂又生气了，把她们三人都称为傻瓜。“哼！瞧她像个傻瓜似的那么安分，却完全是只‘落汤鸡’，椎也推不动，可还忧心忡忡，有时候看起来还真忧郁得很！她在忧伤什么，忧伤什么？”有时候她向伊万·费奥多罗维奇提这个问题，通常是歇斯底里地、威严地，期待着立即回答。伊万·费奥多罗维奇嗯啊哈的，皱着眉头，耸耸肩膀，摊开双手，终于拿出了意见：
“应该找个丈夫。”
“上帝保佑，只是别找像您这样的，伊万·费奥多罗维奇，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜终于像炸弹似的爆发了，“在见解和判断方面别找您这样的，伊万·费奥多罗维奇；别找您这样的粗野的莽汉，伊万·费奥多罗维奇……”
伊万·费奥多罗维奇马上就设法逃脱了，而叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜在发过脾气后也就平静下来了。当然，在那天晚上她一定会变得不同寻常地殷勤、温顺、亲切和恭敬地对待伊万·费奥多罗维奇，对待“自己的粗野的莽汉”伊万·费奥多罗维奇，对待善良的、可爱的她所崇拜的伊万·费奥多罗维奇，因为她一生都爱甚至热恋着自己的伊万·费奥多罗维奇，而伊万·费奥多罗维奇自己也清楚地知道这一点，为此也无限地敬重自己的叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。
但是阿格拉娅却是她主要的和经常的苦恼。
“完完全全像我，在所有的方面简直就是我的活影子，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜暗自说，“任性、可恶的小鬼头工虚无主义者，怪女人，疯姑娘，狠心丫头，狠心丫头，狠心丫头！嗬，天哪，她将是多么不幸啊！”
但是，正如我们已经说过的，升起的太阳一度消融和照亮了一切。几乎有一个月叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜完全摆脱了一切操心而得到了休息。由于阿杰莱达日益迫近的婚礼，上流社会也开始谈及阿格拉娅，与此同时阿格拉娅所到之处举止总是那么优美、那么安稳、那么聪颖、那么不可征服，有点高傲，但这可是与她非常相称的。这整整一个月她对母亲也是那么亲热，那么殷切。真的，这个叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇还得好好看看，好好看看，应该对他了解清楚，再说阿格拉娅好像对他也不比对别人更加赏识。”反正她突然成了这么一个姣美的姑娘，她是多么俊俏，天哪，她是多么俊俏，一天天长得越来越美！偏偏就……”
偏偏就刚才冒出了这个可恶的死公爵，这个槽透了的傻白痴，于是一切又被搅混了，家里的上切又闹了个底朝天！
但是，到底发生了什么事呢？
对于别的人来说一定认为什么也没有发生。但是叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜与别人不同的是，最平常的一些事情纷乱混杂在一起，透过她素有的总不放心的有色眼镜，她总能看出某种东西是最令人生疑、最令人无法解释的恐惧、因而也是最令人苦恼的，以致有时使她吓出病来。她那可笑的、毫无根据的提心吊胆弄得她心如乱麻，现在突然确实看到了某种似乎真的是要紧的、似乎真的是值得担忧、疑惑、怀疑的迹像，叫她又怎么能放心呢？
“怎么有人竟敢、竟敢给我写这封该死的匿名信，说这个贱货跟阿格拉娅有联系呢？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜一路上边拖着公爵跟着自己走，一边想，到了家里把他安顿在全家聚会的园桌旁坐下时还在想。“怎么竟敢这样想？如果我哪怕相信了点滴或者把这封情给阿格拉娅看，我真会羞死的！对我们，对叶潘钦家竟如此嘲弄！这一切，一切都是因为伊万·费奥多雷奇，一间都是因为您，伊万·费奥多雷奇！啊，为什么我们不到叶拉金去，我可是脱过到叶拉金去的！这大概是瓦里卡写的信，我知道，或者，也可能……总之一切的一切都是伊万·费奥多雷奇的错！这是那个贱货拿他开玩笑，为的怪让他记住过去的交往，把他端出来当傻瓜，就像过去把他当傻瓜嘲笑一通，痒着他鼻子走一样，那时他还给她送珍珠……而最后我们还是受到了牵连，您哟，女儿们还是卷了进去，伊万·费奥多雷奇，她们是少女，小姐，上流社会的千金，待嫁的姑娘，她们都曾经在这里，在这里站过，全都听见了，还有，即一帮男孩的事她们也卷进去了，她们都在，也都听见了，您就高兴吧！我不会原谅，不会原谅这个傻瓜公爵的，永远不会原谅的！为什么阿格拉娅这天天歇斯底里大发作？为什么跟姐姐们几乎吵翻了？甚至跟亚历山德拉也吵架了，而过去她总是像吻母亲那样吻她的手，是那么尊敬她，为什么这三天她总给大家出谜语，让人莫名其妙？加夫里拉·伊沃尔京在这里又算什么？为什么昨天和今天她开始夸起加甫里拉·伊沃尔京来，并且还大哭起来？为什么这封匿名信提到了这个该诅咒的 ‘可怜的骑士’，而她甚至没有给两个姐姐看公爵的信？为什么……为了什么，为了什么我像只发狂的猫似的现在跑到找他并且还亲自把他拖到这里来？天哪，我简直疯了，我现在于出什么了呀！跟一个年轻人谈论女儿的秘密，而且这秘密几乎涉及他本人！天哪，还好，他是个白痴……还是家庭的朋友！只是阿格拉娅难道迷上了这个呆子？天哪，我在胡扯什么吗！呸！我们全是些怪人……应该把我们大家放在玻璃柜里陈列给人看，首先把我展览出去，门票收１０个戈比。我不原谅您这一点，伊万·费奥多雷奇，永远不会原谅！为什么阿格拉娅现在不使他难堪了？她许诺要使他难堪的，现在却并没有使他难堪！你瞧，你瞧，她就瞪大了眼睛望着他，一语不发，也不走开，站在那里，而本来是她自己吩咐不要他来的……他则坐在那里，脸色苍白。这个该诅咒的该死的叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇真饶舌，一个人控制了整个谈话！你瞧他滔滔不绝，不让人家插上一句话。只要话锋一转……我马上就全都知道。”
公爵确实坐在圆桌旁，脸色近乎苍白，他好像同时既显得异常惧怕，又片刻处于自己也莫名其妙的充溢心头的欣喜之中。哦，他多么害怕朝那个方向，那个角落看上一眼，因为有两只熟悉的黑眼睛从那里凝视着他，同时，又幸福得发呆，因为他又坐在这里，在这些人中间，又将听到一个熟悉的声音－－而这一切是在她给他写了那封信以后。“天哪，她现在会说什么呀！”他自己也还没有说一句话，只是紧张地听着“滔滔不绝的”叶甫盖尼·帕夫帕维奇说话，他是难得有像今晚现在这样的心满意足和激情昂扬的精神状态的公爵听着他，好久都几乎没听明白一句话。除了伊万·费奥多罗维奇还没有从彼得堡回来，大家都聚在这里。ω公爵也在这里。他们好像打算过一会儿在喝茶前，去听音乐。现在的谈话看来是在梅什金公爵来前就已经开始的，然不知从哪儿冒出来的科利亚很快地溜到了凉台上。“看来，这里仍像原先那样接纳他，”公爵暗自思忖着。
叶潘钦家的别墅是一所豪华的别墅，按瑞士村舍的格式构造的，四周花草林木，拾掇得非常雅致；一座不大而优美的花园环抱着它。像在公爵那儿一样，大家坐在凉台上；只不过这里的凉台比较宽敞，布置得也较讲究。
已经开始的话题似乎不太合大家的心意；可以猜想，谈话是由一场偏执的争论引起的，当然，大家都很想换个内容，但叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇好象更加坚持而不顾其影响；公爵的到来似乎越发激起他的谈兴，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜阴沉着脸，尽管她并不完全明白他所讲的。阿格拉娅坐在边上，几乎是在角落里，她没有走开，听着谈话，执拗地保持着沉默。
“请原谅，”叶甫益尼·帕夫洛维奇激动地表示反对说，“我一点也不反对自由主义。启由主义并不是罪过；这是一个整体的必要组成部分，缺了它，整体就会瓦解或毁灭；自由主义如最正统的保守主义一样有存在的权利；但是我攻击的是俄国的自由主义，我再重复一遍，我之所以攻击它，其实是因为俄国的自由派不是俄罗斯的自由派，而是非俄罗斯的自由派。给我一个俄罗斯的自由派，我马上会当着你们面吻他。”
“只要他愿意吻您，”异常激动的亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜说。她的脸颊甚至也比平常红。
“瞧这模样，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜暗自想道，“要不就是睡和吃，推也椎不动，要不一年中有这么一次振奋起来，说出话来只会叫人莫名其妙，朝她两手一摊。”
公爵有一瞬间发觉，亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜似乎并不大喜欢叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇过分快活他说话，也不大喜欢他那严肃的活题，他仿佛很急躁，同时又仿佛是在开玩笑。
“刚才，就在您来到之前，公爵，我断言，到目前为止我们的自由派只来自两个阶层：过去的地主（被废除了农奴制的）和教会学校的学生。由于这两个阶层最后都成为十足俏帮派、成为完全有别于民族的特殊的事物，而且越来越厉害，代代相传，因此，他们过去和现在所做的一切都根本不是民族的事……”
“什么？这么说，所做的一切都不是俄罗斯的？”ω公爵表示异议。
“不是民族的；虽然是俄国式的，但不是民族的；我们的自由派不是俄罗斯的，保守派也不是俄罗斯的，全都……请相信，民族是丝毫不会承认地主和学生所做的一切的，无论是现在还是以后……”
“这就好！您怎么能肯定这样的荒谬言论，如果这是当真的话？我不容许有关俄国地主的这种奇谈怪论；您自己也是俄国地主，”ω公爵热烈地反对说。
“我说的可不是您所理解的那种意义上的俄国地主。那是一个受尊敬的阶层，单凭我自己也属于这个阶层就可说明了；特别是现在，这个阶层已经不复存在了……”
“难道文学上也没有什么是民族的东西？”亚庆山德拉·伊万诺夫娜打断他问。
“我对文学不在行，但是，俄国文学，据我看，整个儿都不是俄罗斯的，除了罗蒙诺索夫、普希金和果戈理。”
“第一，这已经不算少了；第二，一个来自农民，另外两个是地主，”阿杰莱达笑起来说。
“确实是这样，但您别高兴召太早。因为到目前为止所有的俄国作家中只有这三位名人说出了某种真正是自己的，自己所有的东西，而没有从任何人那里借用的外来的东西，就凭这一点这三位即成为民族的作家了。俄国人又有谁能说出、写出或者做出什么自己的东西？不可分离的、不是外来的而是自己的东西，即使他俄语说的不好、也必然是民族的人才。这是我的信条，我们开始说的不是有关文学的问题，我们谈的是社会主义者，话题是由他扯开去的，好，我就这么认为，我们没有一个俄罗斯的社会主义者；现在没有，过去也没有。因为所有我们的社会主义者也是来自地主或者学生。所有我们那些臭名昭著、大肆宣扬的社会主义者，这里的也罢，在国外的也罢，无非是农奴制时代地主中的自由派。你们笑什么？把他们的著作给我，把他们的学说，他们的回忆录给我，虽然我不是文学批评家，我也能给你们写出一篇最令人信眼的文学批评来，文章里我将如白日一般明显地证明，他们的著作、小册子、回忆录第一页都表明，它首先是由过去的俄国地主写出来的：他们的仇恨、愤怒、俏皮是地主式（甚至是法穆索夫＊式）的，他们的欢欣、他们的泪水是真的，也许泪水是真诚的，但是地主的！地主的或是学生的泪水……你们又笑了，您也在笑，公爵，也不同意？”
确实，大家都笑了，公爵也莞尔一笑。
“我还不能直截了当他说同意或不同意，”公爵说。他突然敛起微笑，像个被抓住的调皮学生那样打了个哆嗦。“但是请相信，我异常高兴聆听您的高论……”
说这活时，他几乎接不上气来，甚至额上渗出了冷汗。这是他坐在这里后所说的开头几句话。他本欲打量一下周围的人，但是没有敢这样做。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇捕捉到他的这种态势，笑了一下。
“诸位，我告诉你们一个事实，”他继续说，用的还是原来的语气，也就是似乎异常热衷和激动，同时又几乎像是在嘲笑自己说的话，“观察甚至发现这一事实的人，我荣幸地归于自己，甚至只是我自己；至少关于这一事实还没有人说过和写过：这一个事实反映出我所说的俄国自由主义的全部实质。第一；自由主义是什么？如果一般他说，不就是对事物的现行秩序进行攻击（是有理的还是错误的，这是另一个问题）？不是这样吗？好！那么我说的事实是，俄国的自由主义不是攻击事物现行的秩序，而是攻击我们事物的本质，攻击事物本身，而不仅仅是光攻击秩序，不是攻击俄国的制度，而是攻击俄国本身。我说的自由派甚至发展到否走俄国本身，也就是恨自己的母亲，打自己的母亲。每个不幸的倒霉的事实都会激起他们的嘲笑，甚至狂喜。他们仇恨民间习俗，俄国的历史，仇恨一切。如果要力他们辩解，那么也只能说他们不懂得自己在做什么，他们把对俄国的仇恨当作是最有成效的自由主义（噢，你们常会遇见我们的自由派，尽管有的人为他们鼓掌，可是，他们在本质上也许是最荒谬、最愚钝、最危险的保守派，而且他们自己还不知道这一点！）。还在不那么久以前，我们的有些自由派把这种对俄国的憎恨几乎当作是对祖国的真正热爱，并自夸说，他们比别人更好地理解什么是热爱祖国；但是现在他们已经不那么遮遮掩掩，甚至对说‘爱祖国“的话都感到羞耻，连这样的概念都被当作有害的毫无意义的东西而取消和废除了。这个事实是确凿无误的，我坚信这一点……什么时候总得把真相完完全全、简单明了、毫不淹饰地讲出来；但是，与此同时这个事实无论何时何地、自古以来无论在哪一个民族中都是没有过，也没有发生过的，因而这个事实是偶然的，可能昙花一现，我同意这点。憎恨自己祖国的自由派，无论在什么地方都是不可能存在的。那么我们这里的这一切又做何解释呢？还是先前说过的，俄国的自由派暂时还不是俄罗斯的自由派，依我看，没有别的解释。”
＊米格里鲍那多夫《聪明谈》剧中的农奴主。
“我把你说的一切看做是玩笑，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，”ω公爵认真地表示有不同看法。
“我没有见到所有的自由派，所以不便妄加评论，”亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜说，“但是我是带着一腔气忿听完您所说的思想的：您取的是个别情况却把它上升为一般规律，因而，也就是诬蔑。”
“个别情况？啊！话说出口了，”叶浦盖尼·帕夫洛维奇接过话茬说，“公爵，您怎么认为，这是