PART 2 // chapter 7-9

[모나리자]

"설명할 필요 없어! 페인트 때문만은 아니었어. 열이 한 달 동안 계속 났어. 조시모프가 그걸 증언해! 하지만 그 애가 지금 얼마나 큰 충격을 받았는지, 믿을 수 없을 거야! '난 그의 새끼손가락만한 가치가 없어.' 그가 말했어. 네 것 말이야. 그는 때때로 좋은 감정을 느껴, 형. 하지만 그 교훈, 오늘 크리스탈 궁전에서 그에게 준 교훈은 너무나 좋았어! 처음에 그를 놀라게 했어, 알잖아, 그는 거의 경련을 일으킬 뻔했어!

그 모든 끔찍한 말도 안 되는 소리의 진실을 다시 한 번 확신시키려 했지만, 갑자기-그에게 혀를 내밀었어: '자, 이제 뭐 생각해?' 완벽했어! 그는 이제 무너지고, 전멸했어! 그것은 훌륭했어, 제우스에 의해, 그들이 받아 마땅한 거야! 아, 내가 거기에 없었으면! 그는 너를 몹시 보고 싶어 했어. 포르피리도 당신을 알고 싶어해요..." "아!... 그도... 하지만 왜 그들은 나를 미친놈으로 몰았을까요?" "아, 미친놈은 아니군요. 제가 너무 많이 말했나 봐요, 형님... 그가 놀란 건, 그 주제만이 당신에게 흥미로웠기 때문이에요. 이제 왜 흥미로웠는지 알겠죠. 모든 상황을 알고서요... 그리고 그것이 당신을 짜증나게 했고 당신의 병과 어떻게 관련이 있었는지도요...

저는 약간 취했어요, 형님. 다만, 그를 혼란스럽게 하세요. 그는 자신만의 생각이 있어요... 제가 말씀드리자면, 그는 정신 질환 때문에 미쳤어요. 하지만 신경 쓰지 마세요..." 반 분 동안 두 사람은 아무 말도 하지 않았다. "들어봐, 라주미힌." 라스콜니코프가 말을 시작했다. "솔직히 말하고 싶어. 방금 임종을 맞았어. 죽은 사무원... 내 돈을 다 줬어... 게다가 내가 누군가를 죽였다면 똑같이 죽였을 사람에게 키스를 받았어... 사실, 거기에 다른 사람이 있었어... 불꽃색 깃털을 달고... 하지만 헛소리야;

나는 매우 약해, 날 지탱해... 우리는 바로 계단으로 갈게..." "뭐야? 뭐야?" 라주미힌이 불안하게 물었다. "조금 어지러워. 하지만 그게 중요한 게 아니야. 너무 슬퍼, 너무 슬퍼... 여자처럼. 봐, 저게 뭐야? 봐, 봐!" "뭐야?" "보이지 않아? 내 방에 불이 들어와, 보이지? 틈새를 통해...

” 그들은 이미 마지막 계단 아래에 있었고, 집주인의 문 높이에 있었고, 사실 아래에서 라스콜니코프의 다락방에 불이 켜져 있는 것을 볼 수 있었습니다. “이상하군요! 나스타샤일지도 몰라요.” 라주미힌이 말했습니다. “그녀는 지금 제 방에 없는 듯하고 오래 전에 잠자리에 들었을 테지만... 상관없어요! 안녕!” “무슨 말이에요? 같이 갈게요, 같이 들어가요!” “함께 들어갈 거라는 건 알지만, 여기서 악수하고 여기서 작별인사를 하고 싶어요.

그러니까 손을 내밀어, 안녕!” “무슨 일이야, 로디아?” “아무것도 아니야... 어서... 네가 증인이 되어.” 그들은 계단을 오르기 시작했고, 라주미힌은 조시모프가 결국 옳을지도 모른다는 생각이 들었습니다. “아, 내 수다로 그를 화나게 했구나!” 그는 중얼거렸습니다. 문에 다다르자 방 안에서 목소리가 들렸다. "무슨 일이야?" 라주미힌이 소리쳤다.

라스콜니코프가 가장 먼저 문을 열었다. 그는 문을 활짝 열고 문간에 서서 멍하니 서 있었다. 그의 어머니와 누이는 소파에 앉아 한 시간 반 동안 그를 기다렸다. 그들이 출발했고, 곧 도착할 것이라는 소식이 그날만 그에게 반복되었는데도 왜 그는 그들을 전혀 예상하지 못했고, 생각하지 못했을까? 그들은 그 한 시간 반 동안 나스타샤에게 질문을 퍼부었다.

그녀는 그들 앞에 서서 지금까지 모든 것을 그들에게 말했다. 그들은 오늘 그가 "도망친다"는 소식을 듣고 깜짝 놀랐다. 그녀의 이야기를 듣고는 병이 들었고, 정신이 나갔다는 것을 알았다! "맙소사, 그 사람은 어떻게 된 거야?" 둘 다 울고 있었고, 둘 다 그 한 시간 반 동안 괴로워했다. 기쁨과 황홀함의 외침이 라스콜니코프의 입장을 맞이했다. 둘 다 그에게 달려갔다.

하지만 그는 죽은 사람처럼 서 있었다. 갑자기 참을 수 없는 감각이 벼락처럼 그를 강타했다. 그는 팔을 들어 안으려 하지 않았다. 할 수 없었다. 그의 어머니와 누이는 그를 팔로 껴안고, 키스하고, 웃고 울었다. 그는 한 걸음 내딛고 비틀거리며 바닥에 쓰러져 기절했다. 불안, 공포의 외침, 신음... 문간에 서 있던 라주미힌이 방으로 날아들어와 아픈 사람을 힘찬 팔로 움켜쥐고 순식간에 소파에 앉혔다.

"아무것도 아니야, 아무것도 아니야!" 그는 어머니와 누이에게 소리쳤다. "기절할 뿐이야, 사소한 일이야! 방금 의사가 훨씬 나아졌다고 했어. 완벽하게 나았다고! 물! 봐, 정신을 차리고 있어, 다시 괜찮아졌어!" 그리고 두니아의 팔을 잡아 거의 탈구될 뻔한 그는 그녀를 구부려 "다시 괜찮아졌어.

" 어머니와 누이는 그를 감정과 감사로 바라보았다. 마치 그들의 섭리처럼. 그들은 풀케리아 알렉산드로브나 라스콜니코프가 그날 저녁 두냐와 대화하면서 그를 불렀던 대로, 이 "매우 유능한 청년"이 로디아의 병환 동안 그를 위해 행한 모든 일을 나스타샤에게서 이미 들었습니다.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“No need to explain that! And it wasn’t the paint only: the fever had been coming on for a month; Zossimov testifies to that! But how crushed that boy is now, you wouldn’t believe! ‘I am not worth his little finger,’ he says. Yours, he means. He has good feelings at times, brother. But the lesson, the lesson you gave him to-day in the Palais de Cristal, that was too good for anything! You frightened him at first, you know, he nearly went into convulsions!

You almost convinced him again of the truth of all that hideous nonsense, and then you suddenly—put out your tongue at him: ‘There now, what do you make of it?’ It was perfect! He is crushed, annihilated now! It was masterly, by Jove, it’s what they deserve! Ah, that I wasn’t there! He was hoping to see you awfully. Porfiry, too, wants to make your acquaintance...” “Ah!... he too... but why did they put me down as mad?” “Oh, not mad. I must have said too much, brother.... What struck him, you see, was that only that subject seemed to interest you; now it’s clear why it did interest you; knowing all the circumstances... and how that irritated you and worked in with your illness...

I am a little drunk, brother, only, confound him, he has some idea of his own... I tell you, he’s mad on mental diseases. But don’t you mind him...” For half a minute both were silent. “Listen, Razumihin,” began Raskolnikov, “I want to tell you plainly: I’ve just been at a death-bed, a clerk who died... I gave them all my money... and besides I’ve just been kissed by someone who, if I had killed anyone, would just the same... in fact I saw someone else there... with a flame-coloured feather... but I am talking nonsense;

I am very weak, support me... we shall be at the stairs directly...” “What’s the matter? What’s the matter with you?” Razumihin asked anxiously. “I am a little giddy, but that’s not the point, I am so sad, so sad... like a woman. Look, what’s that? Look, look!” “What is it?”  “Don’t you see? A light in my room, you see? Through the crack...

” They were already at the foot of the last flight of stairs, at the level of the landlady’s door, and they could, as a fact, see from below that there was a light in Raskolnikov’s garret. “Queer! Nastasya, perhaps,” observed Razumihin. “She is never in my room at this time and she must be in bed long ago, but... I don’t care! Good-bye!” “What do you mean? I am coming with you, we’ll come in together!” “I know we are going in together, but I want to shake hands here and say good-bye to you here.

So give me your hand, good-bye!” “What’s the matter with you, Rodya?” “Nothing... come along... you shall be witness.” They began mounting the stairs, and the idea struck Razumihin that perhaps Zossimov might be right after all. “Ah, I’ve upset him with my chatter!” he muttered to himself. When they reached the door they heard voices in the room. “What is it?” cried Razumihin.

Raskolnikov was the first to open the door; he flung it wide and stood still in the doorway, dumbfoundered. His mother and sister were sitting on his sofa and had been waiting an hour and a half for him. Why had he never expected, never thought of them, though the news that they had started, were on their way and would arrive immediately, had been repeated to him only that day? They had spent that hour and a half plying Nastasya with questions.

She was standing before them and had told them everything by now. They were beside themselves with alarm when they heard of his “running away” to-day, ill and, as they understood from her story, delirious! “Good Heavens, what had become of him?” Both had been weeping, both had been in anguish for that hour and a half. A cry of joy, of ecstasy, greeted Raskolnikov’s entrance. Both rushed to him.

But he stood like one dead; a sudden intolerable sensation struck him like a thunderbolt. He did not lift his arms to embrace them, he could not. His mother and sister clasped him in their arms, kissed him, laughed and cried. He took a step, tottered and fell to the ground, fainting. Anxiety, cries of horror, moans... Razumihin who was standing in the doorway flew into the room, seized the sick man in his strong arms and in a moment had him on the sofa.

“It’s nothing, nothing!” he cried to the mother and sister—“it’s only a faint, a mere trifle! Only just now the doctor said he was much better, that he is perfectly well! Water! See, he is coming to himself, he is all right again!” And seizing Dounia by the arm so that he almost dislocated it, he made her bend down to see that “he is all right again.

” The mother and sister looked on him with emotion and gratitude, as their Providence. They had heard already from Nastasya all that had been done for their Rodya during his illness, by this “very competent young man,” as Pulcheria Alexandrovna Raskolnikov called him that evening in conversation with Dounia.