PART 2 // chapter 7-7

[모나리자]

"아빠가 안타까워요." 그녀는 잠시 후 눈물로 얼룩진 얼굴을 들어올리고 손으로 눈물을 닦으며 말했다. "이제 불행일 뿐이에요." 그녀는 어른처럼 말하고 싶어 하는 아이들이 애써 떠올리는 특유의 차분한 어조로 갑자기 덧붙였다. "아빠는 널 사랑했어?" ​​"그는 리다를 가장 사랑했어." 그녀는 어른처럼 미소도 없이 매우 진지하게 말을 이었다. "아빠는 리다가 어리고 아플 때 사랑했어. 그리고 항상 선물을 가져다주곤 했어. 하지만 그는 우리에게 독서를 가르쳐 주셨고, 나에게 문법과 성경도 가르쳐 주셨어." 그녀는 품위 있게 덧붙였다.

"그리고 엄마는 아무 말도 하지 않았지만, 우리는 엄마가 좋아한다는 걸 알았고 아빠도 알고 있었어. 그리고 엄마는 나에게 프랑스어를 가르쳐 주고 싶어해. 내가 교육을 시작해야 할 때니까." "그리고 기도하는 걸 알아?" "물론이지! 오래전에 알았어. 나는 이제 어른이 되어서 혼자 기도하지만, 콜야와 리다는 엄마와 함께 큰 소리로 기도해." 먼저 그들은 '아베 마리아'를 반복하고 또 다른 기도를 합니다. '주님, 자매 소냐를 용서하고 축복해 주세요.' 그리고 또 다른 기도입니다. '주님, 우리의 두 번째 아버지를 용서하고 축복해 주세요.' 우리의 큰 아버지는 돌아가셨고 이것은 또 다른 기도이지만, 우리는 다른 아버지를 위해 기도합니다."

"폴렌카, 제 이름은 로디온입니다. 가끔 저를 위해 기도해 주세요. '그리고 당신의 종 로디온을 위해' 그 이상은 아닙니다." "저는 평생 당신을 위해 기도할 거예요." 어린 소녀가 격렬하게 선언했습니다.

그리고 갑자기 다시 미소를 지으며 그에게 달려가 다시 한 번 따뜻하게 껴안았습니다. 라스콜니코프는 그녀에게 자신의 이름과 주소를 말했고 다음날 반드시 오겠다고 약속했습니다. 그 아이는 그에게 완전히 매료되어 떠났습니다. 그가 거리로 나온 것은 열 시가 넘었습니다. 5분 후 그는 여자가 뛰어든 지점에 있는 다리 위에 서 있었습니다. "그만해요." 그는 단호하고 승리감에 차서 선언했습니다.

"저는 환상, 상상 속의 공포, 환영에 지쳤습니다! 인생은 현실이에요! 방금 전에 살았지? 내 삶은 아직 그 노파와 함께 죽지 않았어! 그녀에게 천국의 왕국을—그리고 이제 그만, 부인, 나를 편히 내버려 두세요! 이제 이성과 빛의 통치를 위해... 그리고 의지와 힘의 통치를 위해... 그리고 이제 보게 될 거야! 우리는 우리의 힘을 시험해 볼 거야!" 그는 어둠의 어떤 힘에 도전하듯 도전적으로 덧붙였다. "그리고 나는 정사각형 공간에서 사는 데 동의할 준비가 되어 있었어!" "나는 지금 매우 약해졌지만... 나는 내 병이 다 끝났다고 믿어. 내가 나갔을 때 끝났을 거라는 걸 알았어. 그런데, 포트친코프의 집은 몇 걸음 떨어진 곳에 있어.

나는 꼭 라주미힌에 가야 해. 가까이에 없더라도... 그가 내기를 이기게 해! 그에게도 뭔가 만족을 주자—상관없어! 힘, 힘은 사람이 원하는 것이고, 힘 없이는 아무것도 얻을 수 없고, 힘은 힘으로 얻어야 ​​해—그들이 모르는 거야." 그는 자랑스럽고 자신감 있게 덧붙여 다리에서 힘없는 발걸음으로 걸어 나왔다. 자부심과 자신감이 그에게서 점점 더 강해졌습니다. 그는 매 순간 다른 사람이 되고 있었습니다. 그에게 이런 혁명을 일으킨 것은 무엇이었을까요?

그는 자신을 몰랐습니다. 마치 짚을 잡는 사람처럼 그는 갑자기 자신도 '살 수 있고, 그에게는 여전히 삶이 있고, 그의 삶은 늙은 여자와 함께 죽지 않았다'고 느꼈습니다. 아마도 그는 결론을 너무 서두르고 있었을지 모르지만, 그는 그것을 생각하지 못했습니다. "하지만 나는 그녀에게 '당신의 하인 로디온'을 기도에 기억해 달라고 부탁했습니다." 그 생각이 떠올랐습니다. "음, 그건... 긴급 상황일 때를 대비해서요." 그는 덧붙여 말하며 소년다운 뜀걸음에 스스로 웃었습니다. 그는 기분이 최고였습니다. 그는 쉽게 라주미힌을 찾았습니다. 새로운 하인은 이미 포친코프의 집에서 알고 있었고, 문지기는 즉시 그에게 길을 보여주었습니다.

그는 위층 중간쯤에서 많은 사람들이 모여서 떠드는 소음과 활기찬 대화를 들을 수 있었습니다. 계단에는 문이 활짝 열려 있었고, 그는 감탄사와 토론을 들을 수 있었습니다. 라주미힌의 방은 꽤 컸다. 손님은 15명이었다. 라스콜니코프는 입구에 들렀는데, 집주인의 하인 두 명이 스크린 뒤에서 집주인의 주방에서 가져온 사모바르 두 개, 병, 접시, 파이와 짭짤한 음식 접시를 들고 바빴다.

라스콜니코프는 라주미힌을 불렀다. 그는 기뻐서 달려나갔다. 첫눈에 보기에 그가 술을 많이 마신 것이 분명했고, 아무리 술을 마셔도 라주미힌은 취하지 않았지만, 이번에는 눈에 띄게 취했다.

“I am sorry for father,” she said a moment later, raising her tear-stained face and brushing away the tears with her hands. “It’s nothing but misfortunes now,” she added suddenly with that peculiarly sedate air which children try hard to assume when they want to speak like grown-up people. “Did your father love you?” “He loved Lida most,” she went on very seriously without a smile, exactly like grown-up people, “he loved her because she is little and because she is ill, too. And he always used to bring her presents. But he taught us to read and me grammar and scripture, too,” she added with dignity.

“And mother never used to say anything, but we knew that she liked it and father knew it, too. And mother wants to teach me French, for it’s time my education began.” “And do you know your prayers?” “Of course, we do! We knew them long ago. I say my prayers to myself as I am a big girl now, but Kolya and Lida say them aloud with mother. First they repeat the ‘Ave Maria’ and then another prayer: ‘Lord, forgive and bless sister Sonia,’ and then another, ‘Lord, forgive and bless our second father.’ For our elder father is dead and this is another one, but we do pray for the other as well.”

“Polenka, my name is Rodion. Pray sometimes for me, too. ‘And Thy servant Rodion,’ nothing more.”  “I’ll pray for you all the rest of my life,” the little girl declared hotly,

and suddenly smiling again she rushed at him and hugged him warmly once more. Raskolnikov told her his name and address and promised to be sure to come next day. The child went away quite enchanted with him. It was past ten when he came out into the street. In five minutes he was standing on the bridge at the spot where the woman had jumped in. “Enough,” he pronounced resolutely and triumphantly.

“I’ve done with fancies, imaginary terrors and phantoms! Life is real! haven’t I lived just now? My life has not yet died with that old woman! The Kingdom of Heaven to her—and now enough, madam, leave me in peace! Now for the reign of reason and light... and of will, and of strength... and now we will see! We will try our strength!” he added defiantly, as though challenging some power of darkness. “And I was ready to consent to live in a square of space! “I am very weak at this moment, but... I believe my illness is all over. I knew it would be over when I went out. By the way, Potchinkov’s house is only a few steps away.

I certainly must go to Razumihin even if it were not close by... let him win his bet! Let us give him some satisfaction, too—no matter! Strength, strength is what one wants, you can get nothing without it, and strength must be won by strength—that’s what they don’t know,” he added proudly and self-confidently and he walked with flagging footsteps from the bridge. Pride and self-confidence grew continually stronger in him; he was becoming a different man every moment. What was it had happened to work this revolution in him?

He did not know himself; like a man catching at a straw, he suddenly felt that he, too, ‘could live, that there was still life for him, that his life had not died with the old woman.’ Perhaps he was in too great a hurry with his conclusions, but he did not think of that. “But I did ask her to remember ‘Thy servant Rodion’ in her prayers,” the idea struck him. “Well, that was... in case of emergency,” he added and laughed himself at his boyish sally. He was in the best of spirits. He easily found Razumihin; the new lodger was already known at Potchinkov’s and the porter at once showed him the way.

Half-way upstairs he could hear the noise and animated conversation of a big gathering of people. The door was wide open on the stairs; he could hear exclamations and discussion. Razumihin’s room was fairly large; the company consisted of fifteen people. Raskolnikov stopped in the entry, where two of the landlady’s servants were busy behind a screen with two samovars, bottles, plates and dishes of pie and savouries, brought up from the landlady’s kitchen.

Raskolnikov sent in for Razumihin. He ran out delighted. At the first glance it was apparent that he had had a great deal to drink and, though no amount of liquor made Razumihin quite drunk, this time he was perceptibly affected by it.