As to the evening party at the Epanchins' at which Princess Bielokonski was to be present, Varia had reported with accuracy; though she had perhaps expressed herself too strongly.
The thing was decided in a hurry and with a certain amount of quite unnecessary excitement, doubtless because "nothing could be done in this house like anywhere else."
The impatience of Lizabetha Prokofievna "to get things settled" explained a good deal, as well as the anxiety of both parents for the happiness of their beloved daughter. Besides, Princess Bielokonski was going away soon, and they hoped that she would take an interest in the prince. They were anxious that he should enter society under the auspices of this lady, whose patronage was the best of recommendations for any young man.
Even if there seems something strange about the match, the general and his wife said to each other, the "world" will accept Aglaya's fiance without any question if he is under the patronage of the princess. In any case, the prince would have to be "shown" sooner or later; that is, introduced into society, of which he had, so far, not the least idea. Moreover, it was only a question of a small gathering of a few intimate friends. Besides Princess Bielokonski, only one other lady was expected, the wife of a high dignitary. Evgenie Pavlovitch, who was to escort the princess, was the only young man.
Muishkin was told of the princess's visit three days beforehand, but nothing was said to him about the party until the night before it was to take place.
He could not help observing the excited and agitated condition of all members of the family, and from certain hints dropped in conversation he gathered that they were all anxious as to the impression he should make upon the princess. But the Epanchins, one and all, believed that Muishkin, in his simplicity of mind, was quite incapable of realizing that they could be feeling any anxiety on his account, and for this reason they all looked at him with dread and uneasiness.
In point of fact, he did attach marvellously little importance to the approaching event. He was occupied with altogether different thoughts. Aglaya was growing hourly more capricious and gloomy, and this distressed him. When they told him that Evgenie Pavlovitch was expected, he evinced great delight, and said that he had long wished to see him--and somehow these words did not please anyone.
Aglaya left the room in a fit of irritation, and it was not until late in the evening, past eleven, when the prince was taking his departure, that she said a word or two to him, privately, as she accompanied him as far as the front door.
"I should like you," she said, "not to come here tomorrow until evening, when the guests are all assembled. You know there are to be guests, don't you?"
She spoke impatiently and with severity; this was the first allusion she had made to the party of tomorrow.
She hated the idea of it, everyone saw that; and she would probably have liked to quarrel about it with her parents, but pride and modesty prevented her from broaching the subject.
The prince jumped to the conclusion that Aglaya, too, was nervous about him, and the impression he would make, and that she did not like to admit her anxiety; and this thought alarmed him.
"Yes, I am invited," he replied.
She was evidently in difficulties as to how best to go on. "May I speak of something serious to you, for once in my life?" she asked, angrily. She was irritated at she knew not what, and could not restrain her wrath.
"Of course you may; I am very glad to listen," replied Muishkin.
Aglaya was silent a moment and then began again with evident dislike of her subject:
"I do not wish to quarrel with them about this; in some things they won't be reasonable. I always did feel a loathing for the laws which seem to guide mamma's conduct at times. I don't speak of father, for he cannot be expected to be anything but what he is. Mother is a noble-minded woman, I know; you try to suggest anything mean to her, and you'll see! But she is such a slave to these miserable creatures! I don't mean old Bielokonski alone. She is a contemptible old thing, but she is able to twist people round her little finger, and I admire that in her, at all events! How mean it all is, and how foolish! We were always middle-class, thoroughly middle-class, people. Why should we attempt to climb into the giddy heights of the fashionable world? My sisters are all for it. It's Prince S. they have to thank for poisoning their minds. Why are you so glad that Evgenie Pavlovitch is coming?"
"Listen to me, Aglaya," said the prince, "I do believe you are nervous lest I shall make a fool of myself tomorrow at your party?"
"Nervous about you?" Aglaya blushed. "Why should I be nervous about you? What would it matter to me if you were to make ever such a fool of yourself? How can you say such a thing? What do you mean by 'making a fool of yourself'? What a vulgar expression! I suppose you intend to talk in that sort of way tomorrow evening? Look up a few more such expressions in your dictionary; do, you'll make a grand effect! I'm sorry that you seem to be able to come into a room as gracefully as you do; where did you learn the art? Do you think you can drink a cup of tea decently, when you know everybody is looking at you, on purpose to see how you do it?"
"Yes, I think I can."
"Can you? I'm sorry for it then, for I should have had a good laugh at you otherwise. Do break SOMETHING at least, in the drawing-room! Upset the Chinese vase, won't you? It's a valuable one; DO break it. Mamma values it, and she'll go out of her mind--it was a present. She'll cry before everyone, you'll see! Wave your hand about, you know, as you always do, and just smash it. Sit down near it on purpose."
"On the contrary, I shall sit as far from it as I can. Thanks for the hint."
"Ha, ha! Then you are afraid you WILL wave your arms about! I wouldn't mind betting that you'll talk about some lofty subject, something serious and learned. How delightful, how tactful that will be!"
"I should think it would be very foolish indeed, unless it happened to come in appropriately."
"Look here, once for all," cried Aglaya, boiling over, "if I hear you talking about capital punishment, or the economical condition of Russia, or about Beauty redeeming the world, or anything of that sort, I'll--well, of course I shall laugh and seem very pleased, but I warn you beforehand, don't look me in the face again! I'm serious now, mind, this time I AM REALLY serious." She certainly did say this very seriously, so much so, that she looked quite different from what she usually was, and the prince could not help noticing the fact. She did not seem to be joking in the slightest degree.
"Well, you've put me into such a fright that I shall certainly make a fool of myself, and very likely break something too. I wasn't a bit alarmed before, but now I'm as nervous as can be."
"Then don't speak at all. Sit still and don't talk."
"Oh, I can't do that, you know! I shall say something foolish out of pure 'funk,' and break something for the same excellent reason; I know I shall. Perhaps I shall slip and fall on the slippery floor; I've done that before now, you know. I shall dream of it all night now. Why did you say anything about it?"
Aglaya looked blackly at him.
"Do you know what, I had better not come at all tomorrow! I'll plead sick-list and stay away," said the prince, with decision.
Aglaya stamped her foot, and grew quite pale with anger.
Oh, my goodness! Just listen to that! 'Better not come,' when the party is on purpose for him! Good Lord! What a delightful thing it is to have to do with such a--such a stupid as you are!"
"Well, I'll come, I'll come," interrupted the prince, hastily, "and I'll give you my word of honour that I will sit the whole evening and not say a word."
"I believe that's the best thing you can do. You said you'd 'plead sick-list' just now; where in the world do you get hold of such expressions? Why do you talk to me like this? Are you trying to irritate me, or what?"
"Forgive me, it's a schoolboy expression. I won't do it again. I know quite well, I see it, that you are anxious on my account (now, don't be angry), and it makes me very happy to see it. You wouldn't believe how frightened I am of misbehaving somehow, and how glad I am of your instructions. But all this panic is simply nonsense, you know, Aglaya! I give you my word it is; I am so pleased that you are such a child, such a dear good child. How CHARMING you can be if you like, Aglaya."
Aglaya wanted to be angry, of course, but suddenly some quite unexpected feeling seized upon her heart, all in a moment.
"And you won't reproach me for all these rude words of mine--some day--afterwards?" she asked, of a sudden.
"What an idea! Of course not. And what are you blushing for again? And there comes that frown once more! You've taken to looking too gloomy sometimes, Aglaya, much more than you used to. I know why it is."
"Be quiet, do be quiet!"
"No, no, I had much better speak out. I have long wished to say it, and HAVE said it, but that's not enough, for you didn't believe me. Between us two there stands a being who--"
"Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, be quiet!" Aglaya struck in, suddenly, seizing his hand in hers, and gazing at him almost in terror.
At this moment she was called by someone. She broke loose from him with an air of relief and ran away.
The prince was in a fever all night. It was strange, but he had suffered from fever for several nights in succession. On this particular night, while in semi-delirium, he had an idea: what if on the morrow he were to have a fit before everybody? The thought seemed to freeze his blood within him. All night he fancied himself in some extraordinary society of strange persons. The worst of it was that he was talking nonsense; he knew that he ought not to speak at all, and yet he talked the whole time; he seemed to be trying to persuade them all to something. Evgenie and Hippolyte were among the guests, and appeared to be great friends.
He awoke towards nine o'clock with a headache, full of confused ideas and strange impressions. For some reason or other he felt most anxious to see Rogojin, to see and talk to him, but what he wished to say he could not tell. Next, he determined to go and see Hippolyte. His mind was in a confused state, so much so that the incidents of the morning seemed to be imperfectly realized, though acutely felt.
One of these incidents was a visit from Lebedeff. Lebedeff came rather early--before ten--but he was tipsy already. Though the prince was not in an observant condition, yet he could not avoid seeing that for at least three days--ever since General Ivolgin had left the house Lebedeff had been behaving very badly. He looked untidy and dirty at all times of the day, and it was said that he had begun to rage about in his own house, and that his temper was very bad. As soon as he arrived this morning, he began to hold forth, beating his breast and apparently blaming himself for something.
"I've--I've had a reward for my meanness--I've had a slap in the face," he concluded, tragically.
"A slap in the face? From whom? And so early in the morning?"
"Early?" said Lebedeff, sarcastically. "Time counts for nothing, even in physical chastisement; but my slap in the face was not physical, it was moral."
He suddenly took a seat, very unceremoniously, and began his story. It was very disconnected; the prince frowned, and wished he could get away; but suddenly a few words struck him. He sat stiff with wonder--Lebedeff said some extraordinary things.
In the first place he began about some letter; the name of Aglaya Ivanovna came in. Then suddenly he broke off and began to accuse the prince of something; he was apparently offended with him. At first he declared that the prince had trusted him with his confidences as to "a certain person" (Nastasia Philipovna), but that of late his friendship had been thrust back into his bosom, and his innocent question as to "approaching family changes" had been curtly put aside, which Lebedeff declared, with tipsy tears, he could not bear; especially as he knew so much already both from Rogojin and Nastasia Philipovna and her friend, and from Varvara Ardalionovna, and even from Aglaya Ivanovna, through his daughter Vera. "And who told Lizabetha Prokofievna something in secret, by letter? Who told her all about the movements of a certain person called Nastasia Philipovna? Who was the anonymous person, eh? Tell me!"
"Surely not you?" cried the prince.
"Just so," said Lebedeff, with dignity; "and only this very morning I have sent up a letter to the noble lady, stating that I have a matter of great importance to communicate. She received the letter; I know she got it; and she received ME, too."
"Have you just seen Lizabetha Prokofievna?" asked the prince, scarcely believing his ears.
"Yes, I saw her, and got the said slap in the face as mentioned. She chucked the letter back to me unopened, and kicked me out of the house, morally, not physically, although not far off it."
"What letter do you mean she returned unopened?"
"What! didn't I tell you? Ha, ha, ha! I thought I had. Why, I received a letter, you know, to be handed over--"From whom? To whom?"
But it was difficult, if not impossible, to extract anything from Lebedeff. All the prince could gather was, that the letter had been received very early, and had a request written on the outside that it might be sent on to the address given.
"Just as before, sir, just as before! To a certain person, and from a certain hand. The individual's name who wrote the letter is to be represented by the letter A.--"
"What? Impossible! To Nastasia Philipovna? Nonsense!" cried the prince.
"It was, I assure you, and if not to her then to Rogojin, which is the same thing. Mr. Hippolyte has had letters, too, and all from the individual whose name begins with an A.," smirked Lebedeff, with a hideous grin.
As he kept jumping from subject to subject, and forgetting what he had begun to talk about, the prince said nothing, but waited, to give him time.
It was all very vague. Who had taken the letters, if letters there were? Probably Vera--and how could Lebedeff have got them? In all probability, he had managed to steal the present letter from Vera, and had himself gone over to Lizabetha Prokofievna with some idea in his head. So the prince concluded at last.
"You are mad!" he cried, indignantly.
"Not quite, esteemed prince," replied Lebedeff, with some acerbity. "I confess I thought of doing you the service of handing the letter over to yourself, but I decided that it would pay me better to deliver it up to the noble lady aforesaid, as I had informed her of everything hitherto by anonymous letters; so when I sent her up a note from myself, with the letter, you know, in order to fix a meeting for eight o'clock this morning, I signed it 'your secret correspondent.' They let me in at once-- very quickly--by the back door, and the noble lady received me."
"Well? Go on."
"Oh, well, when I saw her she almost punched my head, as I say; in fact so nearly that one might almost say she did punch my head. She threw the letter in my face; she seemed to reflect first, as if she would have liked to keep it, but thought better of it and threw it in my face instead. 'If anybody can have been such a fool as to trust a man like you to deliver the letter,' says she,' take it and deliver it! 'Hey! she was grandly indignant. A fierce, fiery lady that, sir!"
"Where's the letter now?"
"Oh, I've still got it, here!"
And he handed the prince the very letter from Aglaya to Gania, which the latter showed with so much triumph to his Sister at a later hour.
"This letter cannot be allowed to remain in your hands."
"It's for you--for you! I've brought it you on purpose!" cried Lebedeff, excitedly. "Why, I'm yours again now, heart and hand, your slave; there was but a momentary pause in the flow of my love and esteem for you. Mea culpa, mea culpa! as the Pope of Rome says.
"This letter should be sent on at once," said the prince, disturbed. "I'll hand it over myself."
"Wouldn't it be better, esteemed prince, wouldn't it be better-- to--don't you know--"
Lebedeff made a strange and very expressive grimace; he twisted about in his chair, and did something, apparently symbolical, with his hands.
"What do you mean?" said the prince.
"Why, open it, for the time being, don't you know?" he said, most confidentially and mysteriously.
The prince jumped up so furiously that Lebedeff ran towards the door; having gained which strategic position, however, he stopped and looked back to see if he might hope for pardon.
"Oh, Lebedeff, Lebedeff! Can a man really sink to such depths of meanness?" said the prince, sadly.
Lebedeff's face brightened.
"Oh, I'm a mean wretch--a mean wretch!" he said, approaching the prince once more, and beating his breast, with tears in his eyes.
"It's abominable dishonesty, you know!"
"Dishonesty--it is, it is! That's the very word!"
"What in the world induces you to act so? You are nothing but a spy. Why did you write anonymously to worry so noble and generous a lady? Why should not Aglaya Ivanovna write a note to whomever she pleases? What did you mean to complain of today? What did you expect to get by it? What made you go at all?"
"Pure amiable curiosity,--I assure you--desire to do a service. That's all. Now I'm entirely yours again, your slave; hang me if you like!"
"Did you go before Lizabetha Prokofievna in your present condition?" inquired the prince.
"No--oh no, fresher--more the correct card. I only became this like after the humiliation I suffered there,
"Well--that'll do; now leave me."
This injunction had to be repeated several times before the man could be persuaded to move. Even then he turned back at the door, came as far as the middle of the room, and there went through his mysterious motions designed to convey the suggestion that the prince should open the letter. He did not dare put his suggestion into words again.
After this performance, he smiled sweetly and left the room on tiptoe.
All this had been very painful to listen to. One fact stood out certain and clear, and that was that poor Aglaya must be in a state of great distress and indecision and mental torment ("from jealousy," the prince whispered to himself). Undoubtedly in this inexperienced, but hot and proud little head, there were all sorts of plans forming, wild and impossible plans, maybe; and the idea of this so frightened the prince that he could not make up his mind what to do. Something must be done, that was clear.
He looked at the address on the letter once more. Oh, he was not in the least degree alarmed about Aglaya writing such a letter; he could trust her. What he did not like about it was that he could not trust Gania.
The latter, with one thing and another, was now so disturbed and confused, that when, a couple of hours or so later, a message came from Colia that the general was ill, he could hardly take the news in.
However, when he did master the fact, it acted upon him as a tonic by completely distracting his attention. He went at once to Nina Alexandrovna's, whither the general had been carried, and stayed there until the evening. He could do no good, but there are people whom to have near one is a blessing at such times. Colia was in an almost hysterical state; he cried continuously, but was running about all day, all the same; fetching doctors, of whom he collected three; going to the chemist's, and so on.
The general was brought round to some extent, but the doctors declared that he could not be said to be out of danger. Varia and Nina Alexandrovna never left the sick man's bedside; Gania was excited and distressed, but would not go upstairs, and seemed afraid to look at the patient. He wrung his hands when the prince spoke to him, and said that "such a misfortune at such a moment" was terrible.
The prince thought he knew what Gania meant by "such a moment."
Hippolyte was not in the house. Lebedeff turned up late in the afternoon; he had been asleep ever since his interview with the prince in the morning. He was quite sober now, and cried with real sincerity over the sick general--mourning for him as though he were his own brother. He blamed himself aloud, but did not explain why. He repeated over and over again to Nina Alexandrovna that he alone was to blame--no one else--but that he had acted out of "pure amiable curiosity," and that "the deceased," as he insisted upon calling the still living general, had been the greatest of geniuses.
He laid much stress on the genius of the sufferer, as if this idea must be one of immense solace in the present crisis.
Nina Alexandrovna--seeing his sincerity of feeling--said at last, and without the faintest suspicion of reproach in her voice: "Come, come--don't cry! God will forgive you!"
Lebedeff was so impressed by these words, and the tone in which they were spoken, that he could not leave Nina Alexandrovna all the evening--in fact, for several days. Till the general's death, indeed, he spent almost all his time at his side.
Twice during the day a messenger came to Nina Alexandrovna from the Epanchins to inquire after the invalid.
When--late in the evening--the prince made his appearance in Lizabetha Prokofievna's drawing-room, he found it full of guests. Mrs. Epanchin questioned him very fully about the general as soon as he appeared; and when old Princess Bielokonski wished to know "who this general was, and who was Nina Alexandrovna," she proceeded to explain in a manner which pleased the prince very much.
He himself, when relating the circumstances of the general's illness to Lizabetha Prokofievna, "spoke beautifully," as Aglaya's sisters declared afterwards--"modestly, quietly, without gestures or too many words, and with great dignity." He had entered the room with propriety and grace, and he was perfectly dressed; he not only did not "fall down on the slippery floor," as he had expressed it, but evidently made a very favourable impression upon the assembled guests.
As for his own impression on entering the room and taking his seat, he instantly remarked that the company was not in the least such as Aglaya's words had led him to fear, and as he had dreamed of--in nightmare form--all night.
This was the first time in his life that he had seen a little corner of what was generally known by the terrible name of "society." He had long thirsted, for reasons of his own, to penetrate the mysteries of the magic circle, and, therefore, this assemblage was of the greatest possible interest to him.
His first impression was one of fascination. Somehow or other he felt that all these people must have been born on purpose to be together! It seemed to him that the Epanchins were not having a party at all; that these people must have been here always, and that he himself was one of them--returned among them after a long absence, but one of them, naturally and indisputably.
It never struck him that all this refined simplicity and nobility and wit and personal dignity might possibly be no more than an exquisite artistic polish. The majority of the guests--who were somewhat empty-headed, after all, in spite of their aristocratic bearing--never guessed, in their self-satisfied composure, that much of their superiority was mere veneer, which indeed they had adopted unconsciously and by inheritance.
The prince would never so much as suspect such a thing in the delight of his first impression.
He saw, for instance, that one important dignitary, old enough to be his grandfather, broke off his own conversation in order to listen to HIM--a young and inexperienced man; and not only listened, but seemed to attach value to his opinion, and was kind and amiable, and yet they were strangers and had never seen each other before. Perhaps what most appealed to the prince's impressionability was the refinement of the old man's courtesy towards him. Perhaps the soil of his susceptible nature was really predisposed to receive a pleasant impression.
Meanwhile all these people-though friends of the family and of each other to a certain extent--were very far from being such intimate friends of the family and of each other as the prince concluded. There were some present who never would think of considering the Epanchins their equals. There were even some who hated one another cordially. For instance, old Princess Bielokonski had all her life despised the wife of the "dignitary," while the latter was very far from loving Lizabetha Prokofievna. The dignitary himself had been General Epanchin's protector from his youth up; and the general considered him so majestic a personage that he would have felt a hearty contempt for himself if he had even for one moment allowed himself to pose as the great man's equal, or to think of him--in his fear and reverence-as anything less than an Olympic God! There were others present who had not met for years, and who had no feeling whatever for each other, unless it were dislike; and yet they met tonight as though they had seen each other but yesterday in some friendly and intimate assembly of kindred spirits.
It was not a large party, however. Besides Princess Bielokonski and the old dignitary (who was really a great man) and his wife, there was an old military general--a count or baron with a German name, a man reputed to possess great knowledge and administrative ability. He was one of those Olympian administrators who know everything except Russia, pronounce a word of extraordinary wisdom, admired by all, about once in five years, and, after being an eternity in the service, generally die full of honour and riches, though they have never done anything great, and have even been hostile to all greatness. This general was Ivan Fedorovitch's immediate superior in the service; and it pleased the latter to look upon him also as a patron. On the other hand, the great man did not at all consider himself Epanchin's patron. He was always very cool to him, while taking advantage of his ready services, and would instantly have put another in his place if there had been the slightest reason for the change.
Another guest was an elderly, important-looking gentleman, a distant relative of Lizabetha Prokofievna's. This gentleman was rich, held a good position, was a great talker, and had the reputation of being "one of the dissatisfied," though not belonging to the dangerous sections of that class. He had the manners, to some extent, of the English aristocracy, and some of their tastes (especially in the matter of under-done roast beef, harness, men-servants, etc.). He was a great friend of the dignitary's, and Lizabetha Prokofievna, for some reason or other, had got hold of the idea that this worthy intended at no distant date to offer the advantages of his hand and heart to Alexandra.
Besides the elevated and more solid individuals enumerated, there were present a few younger though not less elegant guests. Besides Prince S. and Evgenie Pavlovitch, we must name the eminent and fascinating Prince N.--once the vanquisher of female hearts all over Europe. This gentleman was no longer in the first bloom of youth--he was forty-five, but still very handsome. He was well off, and lived, as a rule, abroad, and was noted as a good teller of stories. Then came a few guests belonging to a lower stratum of society--people who, like the Epanchins themselves, moved only occasionally in this exalted sphere. The Epanchins liked to draft among their more elevated guests a few picked representatives of this lower stratum, and Lizabetha Prokofievna received much praise for this practice, which proved, her friends said, that she was a woman of tact. The Epanchins prided themselves upon the good opinion people held of them.
One of the representatives of the middle-class present today was a colonel of engineers, a very serious man and a great friend of Prince S., who had introduced him to the Epanchins. He was extremely silent in society, and displayed on the forefinger of his right hand a large ring, probably bestowed upon him for services of some sort. There was also a poet, German by name, but a Russian poet; very presentable, and even handsome-the sort of man one could bring into society with impunity. This gentleman belonged to a German family of decidedly bourgeois origin, but he had a knack of acquiring the patronage of "big-wigs," and of retaining their favour. He had translated some great German poem into Russian verse, and claimed to have been a friend of a famous Russian poet, since dead. (It is strange how great a multitude of literary people there are who have had the advantages of friendship with some great man of their own profession who is, unfortunately, dead.) The dignitary's wife had introduced this worthy to the Epanchins. This lady posed as the patroness of literary people, and she certainly had succeeded in obtaining pensions for a few of them, thanks to her influence with those in authority on such matters. She was a lady of weight in her own way. Her age was about forty-five, so that she was a very young wife for such an elderly husband as the dignitary. She had been a beauty in her day and still loved, as many ladies of forty-five do love, to dress a little too smartly. Her intellect was nothing to boast of, and her literary knowledge very doubtful. Literary patronage was, however, with her as much a mania as was the love of gorgeous clothes. Many books and translations were dedicated to her by her proteges, and a few of these talented individuals had published some of their own letters to her, upon very weighty subjects.
This, then, was the society that the prince accepted at once as true coin, as pure gold without alloy.
It so happened, however, that on this particular evening all these good people were in excellent humour and highly pleased with themselves. Every one of them felt that they were doing the Epanchins the greatest possible honour by their presence. But alas! the prince never suspected any such subtleties! For instance, he had no suspicion of the fact that the Epanchins, having in their mind so important a step as the marriage of their daughter, would never think of presuming to take it without having previously "shown off" the proposed husband to the dignitary--the recognized patron of the family. The latter, too, though he would probably have received news of a great disaster to the Epanchin family with perfect composure, would nevertheless have considered it a personal offence if they had dared to marry their daughter without his advice, or we might almost say, his leave.
The amiable and undoubtedly witty Prince N. could not but feel that he was as a sun, risen for one night only to shine upon the Epanchin drawing-room. He accounted them immeasurably his inferiors, and it was this feeling which caused his special amiability and delightful ease and grace towards them. He knew very well that he must tell some story this evening for the edification of the company, and led up to it with the inspiration of anticipatory triumph.
The prince, when he heard the story afterwards, felt that he had never yet come across so wonderful a humorist, or such remarkable brilliancy as was shown by this man; and yet if he had only known it, this story was the oldest, stalest, and most worn-out yarn, and every drawing-room in town was sick to death of it. It was only in the innocent Epanchin household that it passed for a new and brilliant tale--as a sudden and striking reminiscence of a splendid and talented man.
Even the German poet, though as amiable as possible, felt that he was doing the house the greatest of honours by his presence in it.
But the prince only looked at the bright side; he did not turn the coat and see the shabby lining.
Aglaya had not foreseen that particular calamity. She herself looked wonderfully beautiful this evening. All three sisters were dressed very tastefully, and their hair was done with special care.
Aglaya sat next to Evgenie Pavlovitch, and laughed and talked to him with an unusual display of friendliness. Evgenie himself behaved rather more sedately than usual, probably out of respect to the dignitary. Evgenie had been known in society for a long while. He had appeared at the Epanchins' today with crape on his hat, and Princess Bielokonski had commended this action on his part. Not every society man would have worn crape for "such an uncle." Lizabetha Prokofievna had liked it also, but was too preoccupied to take much notice. The prince remarked that Aglaya looked attentively at him two or three times, and seemed to be satisfied with his behaviour.
Little by little he became very happy indeed. All his late anxieties and apprehensions (after his conversation with Lebedeff) now appeared like so many bad dreams--impossible, and even laughable.
He did not speak much, only answering such questions as were put to him, and gradually settled down into unbroken silence, listening to what went on, and steeped in perfect satisfaction and contentment.
Little by little a sort of inspiration, however, began to stir within him, ready to spring into life at the right moment. When he did begin to speak, it was accidentally, in response to a question, and apparently without any special object.
关于叶潘钦家别墅里要举行晚会，等候别洛孔斯卡娅光临，瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜完全确切地告诉了哥哥；正是在这天晚上要等候客人；但是对这件事她表达得又比应该的那样急躁了些。确实，事情安排得过于仓促，甚至还带有几分完全不必要的激动不安，这正是因为在这个家庭里“一切都不像人家那样做法。”这一切可以用以下两点来解释：“不愿再怀疑的”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜急不可耐了；父母的两颗心都在为爱女的幸福热烈而跳动。加上别洛孔斯卡娅真的很快就要离开；因为她的庇护确实在上流社会举足轻重，因为他们指望她将会赏识公爵，因而也寄希望于“上流社会”能直接从神通广大的“老太婆”那里接纳阿格拉娅的未婚夫，因此，如果在这件事上有什么奇怪的地方，在这样的庇护下也就会觉得不那么奇怪了。全部问题在于，父母自己怎么也不能决断：“整个这一件享有没有奇怪的地方？又究竟奇怪到什么程度？还是根本就没有什么奇怪的？”在目前这个关头，由于阿格拉娅的缘故，还什么都不能做出最后决定，有权威、有资格的人士友好和坦率的意见就很适用，无论怎么样，或迟或早，总该把公爵引入他对之没有丝毫概念的上流社会。简言之，他们打算让他“亮相”。不过晚会安排得很简单；等候在这里的仅仅是“家庭的朋友”，最少数的一些人。除了别洛孔斯卡娅，大家还等候一位夫人，是一位相当显要的达官贵人的妻子。年轻人中几乎就叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇一个人，他要陪同别洛孔斯卡娅到来。
别洛孔斯卡娅要来的事，公爵还是在晚会前三天就已听说了；但只是上一天才知道要举行晚会。当然，他发觉了这一家成员忙忙碌碌的样子，根据某些暗示和跟他谈话时忧心忡忡的神情，他甚至领悟到，他们怕他会给人留下什么印象。但是，叶潘钦家似乎每一个人都有这么一种概念，认为他缺少心眼，他自己是怎么也猜不到他们在为他非常担心。因此，大家望着他，内心里甚为苦恼。不过，他也确实几乎没有把面临的这件事看得那么重要；他牵记的完全是另一回事：阿格拉娅一小时比一小时变得越来越任性，越来越忧郁，这使他很伤心。当他知道大家也在等叶甫盖厄·帕夫洛维奇时，他非常高兴并说，他早就希望见到他。不知为什么谁也不喜欢听这儿句话；阿格拉娅烦恼地走出了房间，只是很晚的时候，１１点多了，公爵已经准备离去时，她才利用送他的机会单独对他说了几句话：
“我希望，明天白天您不要到我们这儿来，晚上等这些……客人已经聚拢了再来，您知道要有客人吗？”
她说得很不耐烦，而且特别严峻；她是第一次说起这个“晚会”。对她来说一想到客人几乎也是不可忍受的；大家都发现了这一点。也许，她极想为此与父母吵一场，但是骄矜和窖羞使她没有开口。公爵马上就明白，她也在为他担忧（但又不愿承认她在担忧），于是他自己也忽然害怕起来。
“是的，我受到了邀请，”他回答说。
显然她难以再说下去。
“可不可以跟您谈点正经的？哪怕一生中就一次？”她突然异常生气地说，自己也不知道为什么，也无力克制自己。
“可以呀，我洗耳恭听；我很高兴，”公爵喃喃说。
阿格拉娅又沉默了分把钟，然后带着明显的反感开始说：
“我不想跟他们争论这件事，有的事情上你简直无法使他们明白过来。所有的规矩总使我厌恶，可妈妈有时常要有这些规矩。爸爸就不提了，他什么都不管。妈妈，当然，是个高尚的女人；您要是胆敢建议她做什么卑鄙的事，那就瞧着吧。咳，可是却对这个……坏女人推崇备至！我不光是说别洛孔斯卡娅一个人，这是个坏老太婆，脾气也坏，可是却很聪明，善于把他们所有的人掌握在自己手里，就是这点有本事；哦，真卑鄙！也很可笑：我们始终是中等阶层的人，也只能是最平常的人；何必硬要钻进上流社会的圈子里去呢？姐姐们也往那里钻；这是ω公爵搅乱了大家的心，叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇要来，您为什么高兴？”
“听着，阿格拉娅，”公爵说，“我觉得您非常为我担心，怕我明天在这个社交界……出洋相？”
“为您？担心？”阿格拉娅满脸通红，火冒三丈，“您哪怕……您哪怕完全名誉扫地，凭什么我要为您担心？那关我什么事？您怎么能用这样的字眼？‘出洋相’是什么意思？这是个下流的字眼，庸俗的字眼。”
“这是……学生用语。”
“是呀，学生用语！下流的字眼！您好像打算明天就说这样的字眼。在家里在您的词汇里再多找些这样的字眼：一定会产生效果！遗憾的是，您好像会好好地走进屋子里来，您在哪里学会的？当大家都故意望着您的时候，您会体面地拿起茶杯喝茶吗？”
“我想我会的。”
“这很遗憾；不然我可以笑一笑。至少您要打碎客厅里的一个中国花瓶！它很贵，请打碎它；它是人家送的，妈妈会气得发疯，会当着大家的面哭起来，因为这花瓶对她来说太宝贵了；您做个什么动作，就像您经常做的那样，碰到花瓶，把它打碎。要故意坐得靠近花瓶的地方。”
“相反，我耍尽可能竭力坐得远一些。谢谢您的警告。”
“这么说，您事先就在担心会做大幅度的动作。我敢打赌，您会谈什么‘题目’，谈什么严肃的、有学问的、高尚的内容，是吗？这该会是多么……体面呀！”
“我想这会是愚蠢的……假若不合时宜的话。”
“听着，就讲这一回，”阿格拉娅终于不耐烦了，“如果您要谈什么死刑，或者俄罗斯的经济状况，或者‘拯救世界’之类内容，那么……我当然会高兴一阵、大笑一阵，但是……我事先警告您：以后您再也别在我面前出现！听见了吗，我是当真说的！这一次我可是当真说的！”
她确实是当真说出这番威吓的话的，因而甚至在她的话声中可以听到、在她的目光中可以看到某种不同寻常的东西，这是公爵过去从未发现过的，当然，这就不像是开玩笑了。
“咳，您话说得这样，我现在一定会‘说漏嘴”，甚至……可能……打碎花瓶。刚才我什么都不担心、现在却什么都担心。我一定会出洋相的。”
“那就别作声。坐着，不要说话。”
“那不成；我肯走会因害怕说漏了嘴，会因害怕打碎花瓶。也可能，我会跌倒在光滑的地板上，或者弄出这一类事来，因为过去就发生过；今天一整夜我将会做这样的梦；您为什么要说起这些！”
阿格拉娅阴郁地望了他一眼。
“知道吗，明天我最好还是干脆不来！我就报告说病了，不就完了！”最后他这样决定。
阿格拉娅跺了下脚，甚至气得脸色发白。
“天哪！什么地方见过这样的事啊！人家故意为他……他却不来！哦，天哪！跟您这样头脑不清的人打交道可真有幸！”
“好，我来，我来。”公爵尽快打断她说，“我向您保证，整个晚上我将坐在那里一语不发。我就这样做。”
“您这样做好极了。您刚才说：‘我就报告说病了；’这种说法您到底是从哪儿捡来的？您干吗老爱用这些词语来跟我说话？您是存心逗我还是怎么的？”
“对不想，这也是学生用语；以后我不说了。我很明白，您……是在为我担心……（但是别生气！），对此我非常高兴，您不会相信，我现在有多担心，您的话又使我有多高兴。但是，我向您发誓，所有这种害怕，所有这一切全部不值一提和荒诞无稽。真的，阿格拉娅！但是高兴会留下来。我非常非常喜欢，您是这么一个孩子，这么好、这么善良的孩子！啊，您能成为多么美好的人，阿格拉娅！”
阿格拉娅当然是会生气的，而且已经想要生气了，但是忽然有一种连她自己也感到意外的感觉霎那间袭住了她的整个心灵。
“您不会责备我刚才说的那些粗鲁话……某个时候……以后？”突然她问。
“您说什么呀，您说什么呀？而且您干吗又发人了？瞧您又阴沉地看起人来了！您有时候看起人来太阴沉了，阿格拉娅，您过去从不这样看人，我知道，这是因为……”
“闭嘴，闭嘴！”
“不，最好还是说出来。我早就想说了；我已经说了，但是……这还不够，因为您不相信我。在我们之间始终隔着一个人……”
“闭嘴，闭嘴，闭嘴，闭嘴！”阿格拉娅突然打断他，一边紧紧抓住他的手，几乎是惊恐地望着他。这时有人在喊她；她仿佛很高兴，丢下他就跑去了。
公爵整夜都发热。很奇怪，他已经连续几夜发热病了。这一次在半昏迷状态中他冒出一个念头；要是明天当众毛病发作怎么办！过去不是确实发作过吗？想到这里他浑身冰凉；整夜他都想象着自己处于奇异怪诞、闻所未闻的社交界中，在一群奇怪的人群之中。主要是他“说走了嘴”；他知道什么不该说，但是却说个不停，他竭力劝说他们什么。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇和伊波利特也在客人们中间。而且显得异常友好。
他醒来时快９点了，头脑胀痛，思绪纷乱，印象奇特。不知为什么他十分想见到罗戈任，想见他并要跟他谈许多话，——究竟谈什么，他自己也不知道；后来他已经完全决定为什么事到伊波利特那儿去。他心里有一种模糊浑沌的感觉，以致虽然这天上午他遭遇的一些事给他留下了异常强烈的印象，但是仍然有某种不完整的感受。这些事中的一件便是列别杰夫的来访。
列别杰夫来得相当早，九点刚过，而且几乎完全醉了。虽然近来公爵没有注意观察，但是有一个情况不知怎么地却令他注目：自从伊沃尔金将军从他们这儿搬走后，已经三天了，列别杰夫的行为举止很怪。他不知怎么地突然变得异常肮脏邋遢，领带歪到一旁，常礼服的衣领也撕碎了。他在自己那里甚至还发酒疯，隔一个小院子就可以听到的；维拉有一次哭着跑来诉说原委。现在他来到公爵这里，不知怎么非常奇怪地说了起来，一一还捶着自己胸口，一边认着什么错……
“因为背叛和卑鄙，我得到了……得到了报应……我挨了耳光！”最后他悲切地说。
“耳光！谁打的！……这么一大清早。”
“一大清早。”列别杰夫现出讥讽的微笑，说，“时间在这里没有任何意义……即使是肉体上受到报应……但我得到的是精神上的……精神上的耳光，而不是肉体上的！”
他突然不经客套就坐了下来并开始讲起来。他的叙述毫不连贯；公爵皱了下眉头，想要离开，但忽然有几句话使他吃了一惊。他甚至惊讶得呆若木鸡……列别杰夫先生讲的事情十分令人奇怪。
开始看来是讲一封信；提到了阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜的名字。后来列别杰夫突然开始痛心地抱怨公爵本人；可以理解，公爵使他受了委屈。他说，起先在跟著名“人物”（即纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜）打交道这件事上，他有幸得到公爵的信任；但是后来公爵就完全跟他断绝了关系，并且把他从自己身边赶走，使他蒙受羞辱，甚至让人委屈到这种程度，最后一次竟粗暴地仿佛是断然拒绝回答“家里即将发生的变化’，这一并无恶意的问题。列别杰夫流着醉汉的眼泪承认说，“此后我尽经无论如何也不能忍受了，尤其是因为我知道得很多……非常多，从罗戈任那里，从纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜那里；从纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜的女友那里，从瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜……本人那里……还有从……甚至从阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜本人那里，您能想象这点吗，经过维拉的媒介，即经过我心爱的女儿维拉，唯一的……是的……不过她不是唯一的女儿，因为我有三个女儿。谁多次给叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜写信，甚至还以极端秘密的方式，嘻－嘻！谁写信告诉她纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜个人的全部关系……和行动，嘻－嘻－嘻！请问，是谁，谁是匿名信作者！”
“难道是您？”公爵大声喊道。
“正是，”醉汉神气活现地答道，“就在今天８点半时，总共才半小时前……不，已经有三刻钟了，我通知这位高尚的母亲，我有一件事……重要的事要转告她。我写了一张便条，通过一位姑娘从后面台阶上递进去的，她收下了。”
“您刚才见过时莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜了。”公爵问，他几乎不相信自己的耳朵。
“刚才见过并挨了记耳光……精神的耳光。她把信退还给我，甚至是扔还给我的，没有启封……把我不客气地撵了出来……不过，只是精神上的，而不是肉体上的……不过，差不多也就是肉体上的了，稍微差一点！”
“什么信她没有拆就扔还给您了。”
“难道……嘻一嘻一嘻！是啊，我还没有告诉您！我以为已经说过了……我收到这么一封信是要转交的……”
“谁写的？写给谁？”
但是列别杰夫的某些“解释”很难弄懂，哪怕能明白什么也不容易。但是公爵多少还能领会到，信是清晨通过女仆转交给维拉·列别杰娃的，由她再按地址转交…… “就像过去一样……就像过去一样，是那一位写给某个人……（我用“那一位”来称其中一位，仅用“某人”来称另一个，以表鄙视和区别；因为在纯洁无暇和高贵的将军的小姐与……茶花女之间是有很大差别的），就这样，信是由名字第一个字母是Ａ的‘那一位少写的。”
“这怎么可能？写给纳斯塔西娅·费利帕去娜，荒谬！”公爵嚷道。
“以前也有过，有过，但这次不是给她，而是给罗戈任，反正一样，是给罗戈任……甚至也曾给捷连季耶夫先生写过信，是转交的，但是是以Ａ开头的那一位写的，”列别杰夫眨了下眼，莞尔一笑说。
因为他常常偏离话题从一件事跳到另一件事并且忘记开始说的是什么，因此公爵便保持静默，让他说下去。但依然异常不清楚：信是经过他还是经过维拉转交？既然他自己要人相信“给罗戈任跟给纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜一个样”，那就是说，多半不是经过他转交的，如果是有书信的话。而现在信是通过什么方式落到了他的手里，这一情况仍然完全没有解释清楚；最可能应当设想是他用了什么办法从维拉那儿偷走了信……悄悄地偷了，怀着某种用意去给叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。这样设想，公爵终于明白了。
“您发疯了！”他极为慌乱地嚷了起来。
“不完全是这样，深深敬爱的公爵，”列别杰夫不无恶意地回答说，“真的，本来我想交给您，给您，交到您本人手中，为您效劳……但是考虑结果觉得还是为那边效劳好，把一切都告知最高尚的母亲……因为以前有一次我曾写信告诉过她，是匿名信；刚才我预先在小纸片上写了，请求在８点２０分时接见，落款也是‘您的秘密通信者’！立即就准许了，马上，甚至还特别急促，让我从后门进去，见最高尚的母亲。”
“后来呢？……”
‘在那里的情况您已经知道了，差点没揍我一顿；也就是说只差一点点；甚至可以认为差不多是揍了。她把信扔还了我。的确，她想把信留在自己那儿，我看得出，我注意到这一点，但是改变了主意，扔还给了我，说：‘既然人家信托你这样的人转交，那你就去转交吧……’她甚至生气了。既然在我面前说并不觉得不好意思，那就是说，她是生气了。她是个火爆性子的人！”
“现在信在什么地方？”
“一直在我这里，瞧。”
他把阿格拉娅给加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇的便信递给了公爵，这正是当天上午两小时以后加夫里拉洋洋得意地给妹妹看的那封信。
“这封信不能留您这儿。”
“给您，给您！就是带来给您的，”列别杰夫热烈地接口说，“在有过瞬息的背叛以后，现在我又是您的奴仆了，整个儿都是您的人，从头到脚，从外面到内心！您就痛斥心灵，宽恕这一把胡子吧，就像托马斯·莫尔……在英国和大不列问说过的那样。而照罗马教王说的，则是Ｍｅａ ｃｕ１ｐａ， ｍｃａ ｃｕｌｐａ＊……也就是说他是罗马教皇，而我把他叫做罗马教王。”
“这封信应该马上送去，”公爵操起心来，“我来转交。”
“最好是不是……最好是不是……最有教养的公爵，最好是不是……这样！”
列别杰夫做了个怪诞的谄媚的鬼脸；他忽然在原地手忙脚乱起来，仿佛突然被针刺了似的，一边狡黠地霎着眼睛，一边用手做着动作表示着什么。
“怎么回事？”公爵威严地间。
“最好是先拆开来。”他似乎是推心置腹、巴结而动人地低语着。
公爵顿时暴跳如雷，列别杰夫本已开始逃开，但跑到门口又停了下来，想等等是否会有宽恕。
“哎，列别杰夫！怎么能，怎么能坠落到您这样低贱无耻的地步？”公爵痛心地大声说。列别杰夫的脸容变得开朗了。
“低贱，低贱！”他马上走近来，一边捶着胸口，一边淌着眼泪。
“这可是卑鄙！”
“的确卑鄙！是实在话！”
“您这是什么习性……喜欢这样奇怪地行事？您……可简直是间谍！为什么您要写匿名信去惊扰……这么高尚、善良的妇女？再说，为什么阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜没有权利爱给准写信就写信呢？您今天是去告发，还是怎么的？您指望得到什么？是什么促使您去告密？”
“纯粹是出于令人愉快的好奇心以及……为高尚的人热心效劳，就这样！”列别杰夫喃喃说，“现在整个几都是您的，又全是您的人了！哪怕把我绞死也是！”
“您到叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜那里去，也像现在这副样子？”公爵厌恶而又不无好奇地问。
“不……要干净些……甚至体面些；我已经是在受辱以后才弄得……这副模样。”
＊拉丁语：我有罪，我有罪。
“嗯，好吧，让我安静一会。”
“不过，这一请求必须得重复好几次，直至客人终于下决心离去。”他已经完全打开了门，重又回过来，随着脚走到房间中央，又开始用双手做手势表示拆信；他已经不敢用话说出自己的建议来；后来他走出去了，露出安详温和的微笑。
听到这一切心情是异常沉重的。所有这些事中显露出一个主要的不同一般的事实：阿格拉娅处于极大的不安、极大的犹豫、极大的痛苦之中，而且不知道为什么“是出于嫉妒，”公爵暗自低语。当然，也是源于有些居心不良的人搅扰了她，而非常奇怪的是，她竟这么信任他们。当然，在这个没有经验的、但急躁而高傲的头脑中酝酿着某些特殊的计划，也许是极有窖的……极不像话的。公爵异常惶恐，困惑中甚至不知道该拿什么主意。一定得采取什么预防措施，这点他是感觉到的。他又一次瞥了一眼封了口的信上的地址：哦，这里他没有什么怀疑和不安的，因为他相信阿格拉娅；这封信的另一方面使他忐忑不安：他不相信加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇，但是，他还是决定亲自把这封信转交给他本人，为此他已经走出了家门，但是在路上他又改变了主意。几乎就在普季岑家门口，就像故意安排似的，碰上了科利亚，于是公爵就委托他把信交到兄长手里，仿佛就是从阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜那里直接转交的。科利亚没有多问就送去了，因而加尼亚根本就想不到，信已经经过了多少中转。回家以后，公爵请维拉·鲁基扬诺夫娜到自己这儿来，对她说了该告诉她的情况，并安慰她，因为她到现在一直在找这封信，急得直哭。当她获悉信被他父亲拿走，惊恐异常（公爵后来从她那儿知道，她不止一次秘密为罗戈任和阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜效劳；她怎么也想不到，这里会有什么对公爵可能不利……）
公爵的心境终于坏到了极点，两小时后，当科利亚差人到他这儿来通知其父病倒时，最初一刻他几乎不能明白是怎么回事。但正是这一事件使他恢复了常态，因为它强烈地转移了他的注意力。他在尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜那里（病人自然被送到她这里）差不多一直耽到晚上。他几乎帮不上什么忙，但有这么一种人，患难者在艰难的时刻只要见到他们在自己身边，便不知怎么地会感到宽慰。科利亚惊吓得不得了，歇斯底里地哭泣着，但是他一直在当跑腿：跑去找医生，找了三位，又跑药房，还去了理发铺。＊总算使将军死而复苏，但是没有恢复知觉；医生表示，“无论怎样，病人处于危险之中”。瓦里娅和尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜寸步不离病人，加尼亚感到窘困和震惊，但不想到楼上去，甚至怕见病人，他绞着自己的双手，在与公爵语无伦次的谈话中他能表达的就是，“这样的不幸，仿佛故意似的，偏偏在这个时候！”公爵觉得，他能明白加尼亚所指的是什么时候，在普季岑家里公爵已经遇不到伊波利特了。到傍晚时列别杰夫跑来了，在上午的“解释”以后他一直睡到现在没有醒过。现在他差不多是清醒的，在病人面前哭洒了真诚的眼泪，犹如哭自己的亲兄弟似的。他哭诉着，自责着，但是并没有解释是怎么一回事，他还一再缠着尼娜·亚历山德罗夫问，不停地要她相信，“是他，他本人就是原因，不是别人而正是他……纯粹出于令人快活的好奇心……” 死者“（不知为什么他这么固执地称还活着的将军）甚至是最具天才的人！”他特别认真地坚持将军是天才这一点，仿佛因此能在此刻带来什么不同一般的好处似的，尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜看见他的真诚泪水，终于不带任何责备，甚至几乎是温柔地对他说，“好了，上帝保佑您，好了，别哭了，好了，上帝会原谅您的！’；列别杰失彼这些话和说话的语气震惊得整个晚上已经不想离开尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜的身边（所有后来几天直至将军死去，他几乎从早到夜都在他们家里度过的）。在这一天内叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜两位差人到尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜这儿来探询病人的健康状况，晚上９点公爵来到叶潘钦家已经宾客满座的客厅，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜又立即开始向他询问病人的情况，既关切又详尽，她也郑重其事地回答了别洛孔斯卡娅的问题：）病人是谁？尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜是谁？”公爵对此颇为满意。他自己在向叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜做解释时，谈吐“非常优雅”，照阿格拉娅两位姐姐事后形容的那样：“谦逊，平和，没有多余的话，没有手势，庄重得体：进来时风度翩翩；衣着非常漂亮”，不仅没有像上一天担心的那样“在光滑的地板上摔到”，而且显然给大家留下了甚至愉快的印象。
从公爵方面来说，他坐下来并打量了周围，马上就发现，所有聚集在这里的人绝非如昨天阿格拉娅用来吓唬他的虚构的样子，也不是夜间他做恶梦见到的可怕的样子。一生中他第一次见到的被冠以可怕的名称“上流社会”的一角。由于某些特别的打算，设想和爱好，他早已渴望着深入到这个颇具迷惑力的人圈里，用此他对第一个印象有苦强烈兴趣。这初步印象甚至是迷人的。不知怎么地，他突然觉得，所有这些人仿佛生下来就是这样呆在一起的，仿佛叶潘钦家今晚没有举办什么“晚会”，没有邀请什么宾客，所有这些人全是“自己人”，而他自己也早已是他们的忠诚朋友和志同道合者，现在是小别之后又回到他们这儿来，优雅的举止、纯朴的为人和表面的坦诚几乎具有迷人的魅力。他怎么也想不到，所有这一切纯朴、高雅、机智和高度的自尊，也许都只是富丽堂皇的艺术精品，大部分宾客，尽管有着令人肃然起敬的外表，却是些相当空虚贫乏的人物，不过，他们在自鸣得意之中自己也不知道，他们身上的许多优点只是糟巧的装饰品，而且这也不是他们的过错，因为他们是不自觉地继承遗产得到它们的。公爵因为沉缅于自己得到的美妙的第一印象之中，因此甚至不想去怀疑这一点。倒如，他看到，这个老人，这个达官显要，论年龄可以做他的爷爷，甚至中断自己的谈话来听他这么一个涉世不深的年轻人说话，不仅听他说，而且显然还看重他的意见，对他这么和蔼可亲、这么真诚温厚，而他们素昧平生，才初次相见。也许，这种礼貌的细致周到对热情敏感的公爵最有影响。也许，他事先就对这种美好的印象过于好感，甚至偏爱。
＊从前理发铺兼用放血等土法治病。
不过，所有这些人虽然无疑是“家庭的朋友”，彼此之间也是朋友，刚才把公爵介绍给他们并与之结识时，他也是这么看待他们的，然而无论对叶潘钦家来说还是