PART I // chapter 2-8

[모나리자]

그리고 그들은 그곳에서 나를 찾고 있고, 내 고용은 끝났고, 내 제복은 이집트 다리에 있는 선술집에 놓여 있습니다.

나는 그것을 내가 입고 있는 옷과 교환했고... 모든 것이 끝났어요!" 마르멜라도프는 주먹으로 이마를 치고, 이를 악물고, 눈을 감고 팔꿈치를 테이블에 짚고 몸을 숙였습니다. 하지만 1분 후 그의 얼굴이 갑자기 바뀌었고, 어떤 교활함과 허세의 가식으로 그는 라스콜니코프를 쳐다보고 웃으며 말했습니다:

"오늘 아침 소냐를 만나러 갔어요. 그녀에게 기분을 좋게 해달라고 부탁하러 갔어요! 하하하!" "그녀가 당신에게 주었다고 말하지 않았어요?" 새로 온 사람 중 한 명이 소리쳤습니다. 그는 그 말을 외치고 웃음을 터뜨렸습니다. "이 1쿼트는 그녀의 돈으로 샀어요." 마르멜라도프는 라스콜니코프에게만 말을 걸며 선언했습니다.

"그녀가 제 손으로 30코페크를 줬어요. 그녀가 가진 마지막 돈, 그녀가 가진 전부였어요. 제가 보기에... 그녀는 아무 말도 하지 않고, 그저 아무 말 없이 나를 바라보았을 뿐이에요... 지상에서가 아니라 저 너머에서... 그들은 남자들을 슬퍼하고, 울지만, 그들을 비난하지 않아요, 비난하지 않아요! 하지만 그들이 비난하지 않을 때 더 아프죠, 더 아프죠!

30코페크 맞아요! 그리고 아마 지금 필요할 거예요, 그렇죠? 어떻게 생각하세요, 선생님? 지금은 외모를 유지해야 해요. 돈이 들어요, 그 똑똑함, 그 특별한 똑똑함, 알죠? 이해하시죠? 그리고 포마툼도 있어요, 알다시피, 그녀는 뭔가를 가져야 해요. 속치마, 풀칠한 것, 신발도요, 웅덩이를 넘어야 할 때 발을 과시할 정말 경쾌한 신발이요.

이해하시죠, 선생님, 그 모든 똑똑함이 무슨 뜻인지 이해하시죠? 그리고 여기, 그녀의 아버지인 제가 술 한 잔을 사려고 그 돈 30코페크를 가져갔어요! 그리고 나는 그것을 마시고 있다! 그리고 나는 이미 그것을 마셨다! 어서, 누가 나 같은 사람을 불쌍히 여길까? 당신은 나를 불쌍히 여기시는가, 선생님? 말해 보세요, 선생님, 당신은 미안하신가, 아니면 그렇지 않으신가? 하하하!" 그는 잔을 채우려 했지만, 더 이상 음료가 없었다.

냄비는 비어 있었다. "당신은 무엇 때문에 불쌍히 여겨지십니까?" 다시 그들 가까이에 있던 선술집 주인이 소리쳤다. 웃음소리와 심지어 욕설이 뒤따랐다. 웃음과 욕설은 듣고 있던 사람들과 아무것도 듣지 못하고 그저 해고된 공무원의 모습을 바라보고 있던 사람들로부터 나왔다.

"불쌍히 여겨지다니! 왜 내가 불쌍히 여겨지다니?" 마르멜라도프가 갑자기 선언하며 팔을 뻗고 일어섰다. 마치 그 질문만 기다리고 있었던 것처럼. "왜 내가 불쌍히 여겨지다니, 당신은 말합니까? 맞아요! 불쌍히 여겨질 게 하나도 없어요! 나는 십자가에 못 박혀야 해요, 십자가에 못 박혀야지, 불쌍히 여겨져서는 안 돼요! 나를 십자가에 못 박아라, 오 판사님, 나를 십자가에 못 박아라 하지만 나를 불쌍히 여겨라! 그러면 나는 스스로 십자가에 못 박히러 갈 것이다. 내가 찾는 것은 즐거운 일이 아니라 눈물과 환난이기 때문이다!... 파는 사람아, 네 이 맥주 한 잔이 나에게 달콤하다고 생각하니?

내가 그 밑바닥에서 찾던 것은 환난이었고, 눈물과 환난이었고, 그것을 발견했고, 나는 그것을 맛보았다. 하지만 모든 사람을 불쌍히 여기신 분, 모든 사람과 모든 것을 이해하신 분, 그분이 바로 그 분이고, 그분 역시 판사이시다. 그날 그분이 오셔서 이렇게 물으실 것이다. '자신의 십자가를 위해 자신을 바친 딸, 폐병에 걸린 계모, 그리고 다른 사람의 어린아이들을 위해? 더러운 술주정뱅이, 지상의 아버지를 불쌍히 여기신 딸, 그의 짐승 같은 모습에 전혀 당황하지 않은 딸은 어디 있느냐?'

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and they are looking for me there and it’s the end of my employment, and my uniform is lying in a tavern on the Egyptian bridge.

I exchanged it for the garments I have on... and it’s the end of everything!” Marmeladov struck his forehead with his fist, clenched his teeth, closed his eyes and leaned heavily with his elbow on the table. But a minute later his face suddenly changed and with a certain assumed slyness and affectation of bravado, he glanced at Raskolnikov, laughed and said:

“This morning I went to see Sonia, I went to ask her for a pick-me-up! He-he-he!” “You don’t say she gave it to you?” cried one of the new-comers; he shouted the words and went off into a guffaw. “This very quart was bought with her money,” Marmeladov declared, addressing himself exclusively to Raskolnikov.

“Thirty copecks she gave me with her own hands, her last, all she had, as I saw.... She said nothing, she only looked at me without a word.... Not on earth, but up yonder... they grieve over men, they weep, but they don’t blame them, they don’t blame them! But it hurts more, it hurts more when they don’t blame!

Thirty copecks yes! And maybe she needs them now, eh? What do you think, my dear sir? For now she’s got to keep up her appearance. It costs money, that smartness, that special smartness, you know? Do you understand? And there’s pomatum, too, you see, she must have things; petticoats, starched ones, shoes, too, real jaunty ones to show off her foot when she has to step over a puddle.

Do you understand, sir, do you understand what all that smartness means? And here I, her own father, here I took thirty copecks of that money for a drink! And I am drinking it! And I have already drunk it! Come, who will have pity on a man like me, eh? Are you sorry for me, sir, or not? Tell me, sir, are you sorry or not? He-he-he!” He would have filled his glass, but there was no drink left.

The pot was empty. “What are you to be pitied for?” shouted the tavern-keeper who was again near them. Shouts of laughter and even oaths followed. The laughter and the oaths came from those who were listening and also from those who had heard nothing but were simply looking at the figure of the discharged government clerk.

“To be pitied! Why am I to be pitied?” Marmeladov suddenly declaimed, standing up with his arm outstretched, as though he had been only waiting for that question. “Why am I to be pitied, you say? Yes! there’s nothing to pity me for! I ought to be crucified, crucified on a cross, not pitied! Crucify me, oh judge, crucify me but pity me! And then I will go of myself to be crucified, for it’s not merry-making I seek but tears and tribulation!... Do you suppose, you that sell, that this pint of yours has been sweet to me?

It was tribulation I sought at the bottom of it, tears and tribulation, and have found it, and I have tasted it; but He will pity us Who has had pity on all men, Who has understood all men and all things, He is the One, He too is the judge. He will come in that day and He will ask: ‘Where is the daughter who gave herself for her cross, consumptive step-mother and for the little children of another? Where is the daughter who had pity upon the filthy drunkard, her earthly father, undismayed by his beastliness?’