PART 4 // chapter 5-4

[모나리자]

"아니, 당신은 나를 믿지 않는군요. 당신은 내가 당신에게 무해한 농담을 한다고 생각하는군요." 포르피리는 다시 말을 시작하며 점점 더 활기차게 말했고, 매 순간마다 낄낄거리며 방 안을 왔다 갔다 했습니다. "그리고 당신이 옳다는 것을 확실히 하기 위해: 신은 나에게 다른 사람들에게 희극적인 생각만 불러일으킬 수 있는 인물을 주셨습니다. 광대입니다. 하지만 다시 말씀드리지만, 늙은이를 용서해 주세요. 사랑하는 로디온 로마노비치, 당신은 아직 젊고, 말하자면, 첫 청춘기에 있는 사람입니다. 그래서 당신은 모든 젊은이들처럼 지성을 모든 것보다 우선시합니다.

장난기 어린 재치와 추상적인 주장이 당신을 매료시키고, 그것은 마치 군사 문제에 대한 나의 판단에 따르면, 오래된 오스트리아의 호프-크릭스라트와 같습니다. 즉, 그들은 서류상으로 나폴레옹을 물리치고 포로로 잡았고, 그들의 서재에서 가장 영리한 방식으로 모든 것을 계산했지만, 보세요, 막 장군은 그의 모든 군대와 함께 항복했습니다, 하하하! 알겠어요, 알겠어요, 로디온 로마노비치, 당신은 저 같은 민간인을 비웃고 있어요. 군사 역사에서 예를 꺼내는 거요! 하지만 저는 어쩔 수 없어요. 제 약점이거든요.

저는 군사 과학을 좋아해요. 그리고 모든 군사 역사를 읽는 걸 정말 좋아해요. 저는 제 적절한 직업을 확실히 놓쳤어요. 저는 군대에 있어야 했어요. 제가 말했듯이요. 저는 나폴레옹이 되어서는 안 되었지만, 소령은 되었을 수도 있어요, 하하하! 글쎄요, 제 친구여, 이 특별한 경우에 대해 모든 진실을 말씀드리겠습니다. 사실과 사람의 기질은 중요한 문제이고, 그것들이 때때로 가장 날카로운 계산을 속이는 건 놀라운 일입니다! 나는—노인의 말을 들어라—진지하게 말하고 있다, 로디온 로마노비치" (이 말을 했을 때, 포르피리 페트로비치는 35살도 채 되지 않은데, 사실 늙어버린 듯했다. 심지어 목소리도 바뀌었고 움츠러든 듯했다) "게다가 나는 솔직한 사람이야... 솔직한 사람인가 아닌가?

뭐라고 할까? 나는 정말 솔직한 사람이라고 생각해: 나는 이런 것들을

아무것도 없이 말하고 보상도 기대하지 않아, 하하하! 글쎄, 계속해 보자면, 내 생각에 재치는 훌륭한 것이고, 말하자면 자연의 장식이자 삶의 위안이며, 얼마나 속일 수 있는지! 그래서 가난한 심사 변호사는 자신이 어디에 있는지 알기 어려울 때가 있는데, 특히 자신의 환상에 휩쓸릴 가능성이 있을 때는 더욱 그렇다. 결국 그는 사람이라는 걸 알잖아! 하지만 불쌍한 사람은 범죄자의 기질 덕분에 살아남았고, 그에게는 더 나쁜 행운이 찾아왔다! 하지만 젊은이들은 자신의 재치에 휘말려 '모든 장애물을 넘어설 때'를 생각하지 못합니다. 어제 당신이 재치 있고 똑똑하게 표현했듯이요.

그는 거짓말을 할 것입니다. 즉, 특별한 경우인 익명의 사람이며, 가장 영리한 방식으로 거짓말을 잘할 것입니다. 그가 승리하고 재치의 열매를 즐길 것이라고 생각할 수 있지만, 가장 흥미롭고 가장 노골적인 순간에 그는 기절할 것입니다. 물론 병이 들고 방이 답답할 수도 있지만 어쨌든! 어쨌든 그는 우리에게 아이디어를 주었습니다! 그는 비교할 수 없을 정도로 거짓말을 했지만, 자신의 기질을 예상하지 못했습니다. 그것이 그를 배신하는 것입니다! 또 다른 때는 장난기 어린 재치에 휩쓸려 자신을 의심하는 사람을 놀릴 것이고, 마치 오도하기 위해 의도적으로 창백해질 것이지만, 그의 창백함은 너무 자연스럽고 실제와 너무 비슷할 것입니다. 그는 다시 한 번 우리에게 아이디어를 주었습니다!

질문자가 처음에는 속았을지 몰라도, 그가 바보가 아니라면 다음 날은 다르게 생각할 것이고, 물론 모든 단계에서 그렇습니다! 그는 원치 않는 곳에 나서고, 침묵해야 할 때 계속해서 말하고, 온갖 우화적 암시를 끌어들인다. ​​허허! 와서 왜 오래전에 나를 데려가지 않았냐고 묻는다. 허허! 그리고 그런 일은, 알다시피, 심리학자, 문학가에게 일어날 수 있다. 기질은 거울처럼 모든 것을 반영한다! 그것을 들여다보고 당신이 보는 것을 감탄하라!

하지만 왜 그렇게 창백하니, 로디온 로마노비치? 방이 답답한가? 창문을 열까?" "아, 귀찮게 하지 마세요, 제발요." 라스콜니코프가 소리치며 갑자기 웃음을 터뜨렸다. "제발 귀찮게 하지 마세요." 포르피리는 그를 마주보며 서 있었고, 잠시 멈췄다가 갑자기 그도 웃었다. 라스콜니코프가 소파에서 일어나서 갑자기 히스테리적인 웃음을 참았다. "포르피리 페트로비치," 그는 큰 소리로 분명하게 말을 시작했다. 하지만 그의 다리는 떨렸고 거의 서 있을 수 없었다.

"드디어 당신이 실제로 내가 그 노파와 그녀의 자매 리자베타를 살해했다고 의심한다는 것을 분명히 알게 되었습니다. 제 입장에서 말씀드리자면, 저는 이런 일에 지쳤습니다. 당신이 저를 합법적으로 기소하고 체포할 권리가 있다고 생각한다면, 저를 기소하고 체포하세요. 하지만 저는 제 얼굴을 향해 조롱당하고 걱정하는 것을 용납하지 않을 것입니다..." 그의 입술이 떨리고 그의 눈은 분노로 빛났으며 그는 목소리를 억제할 수 없었습니다. "저는 허락하지 않을 것입니다!" 그는 주먹을 테이블에 내리치며 소리쳤습니다. "저 소리 들리세요, 포르피리 페트로비치? 저는 허락하지 않을 것입니다." "맙소사! 무슨 소리예요?" 포르피리 페트로비치가 꽤 겁먹은 듯 소리쳤습니다.

"로디온 로마노비치, 제 친구, 당신은 무슨 일이야?" "저는 허락하지 않을 것입니다." 라스콜니코프가 다시 소리쳤습니다. "조용히 하세요, 제 친구! 그들이 듣고 들어올 거예요. 생각해 보세요, 우리가 그들에게 무슨 말을 할 수 있을까요?" 포피리 페트로비치는 공포에 질려 속삭이며 라스콜니코프의 얼굴을 가까이 가져갔다. "허락하지 않을 거야, 허락하지 않을 거야." 라스콜니코프가 기계적으로 되뇌었지만, 그도 갑자기 속삭이듯 말했다. 포피리는 재빨리 돌아서 창문을 열었다. "신선한 공기를 마셔! 그리고 물도 좀 마셔야 해, 친구야. 넌 아프잖아!" 그는 문을 향해 달려가 물을 가져오려고 했을 때 구석에서 물병을 발견했다.

"와서 조금 마셔." 그는 속삭이며 디캔터를 들고 그에게 달려갔다. "꼭 좋을 거야." 포르피리 페트로비치의 놀라움과 동정심이 너무나 자연스러워서 라스콜니코프는 아무 말도 하지 않고 그를 호기심 어린 눈으로 바라보기 시작했다. 하지만 그는 물을 마시지 않았다. "로디온 로마노비치, 친구야, 넌 정신을 잃을 거야, 아차, 아차! 물 좀 마셔. 조금 마셔."

그는 그에게 잔을 가져오라고 강요했다. 라스콜니코프는 기계적으로 잔을 입술로 가져갔지만, 혐오감을 느끼며 다시 테이블에 올려놓았다. "그래, 넌 약간 발작이 있었어! 다시 네 병이 돌아올 거야, 친구야." 포르피리 페트로비치는 여전히 다소 당황한 듯 보였지만, 친근하게 동정심을 표하며 깔깔거렸다. "맙소사, 넌 네 자신을 더 잘 돌봐야 해!

드미트리 프로코피치가 여기 있었고, 어제 나를 보러 왔어요. 알아요, 알아요, 제가 심술궂고 아이러니한 성격을 가지고 있지만, 그들이 그걸 어떻게 생각했는지!... 세상에, 어제 당신이 온 후에 그가 왔어요. 우리는 저녁을 먹었고 그는 수다를 떨었고, 나는 절망에 손을 들 수밖에 없었어요! 그가 당신에게서 온 거예요? 하지만 제발, 앉아요, 제발, 앉아요!" "아니요, 저에게서 온 게 아니에요. 하지만 그가 당신에게 간 이유와 간 이유를 알고 있어요." 라스콜니코프가 날카롭게 대답했습니다. "당신은 알고 있었어요?"

6315p

“No, I see you don’t believe me, you think I am playing a harmless joke on you,” Porfiry began again, getting more and more lively, chuckling at every instant and again pacing round the room. “And to be sure you’re right: God has given me a figure that can awaken none but comic ideas in other people; a buffoon; but let me tell you, and I repeat it, excuse an old man, my dear Rodion Romanovitch, you are a man still young, so to say, in your first youth and so you put intellect above everything, like all young people.

Playful wit and abstract arguments fascinate you and that’s for all the world like the old Austrian Hof-kriegsrath, as far as I can judge of military matters, that is: on paper they’d beaten Napoleon and taken him prisoner, and there in their study they worked it all out in the cleverest fashion, but look you, General Mack surrendered with all his army, he-he-he! I see, I see, Rodion Romanovitch, you are laughing at a civilian like me, taking examples out of military history! But I can’t help it, it’s my weakness.

I am fond of military science. And I’m ever so fond of reading all military histories. I’ve certainly missed my proper career. I ought to have been in the army, upon my word I ought. I shouldn’t have been a Napoleon, but I might have been a major, he-he! Well, I’ll tell you the whole truth, my dear fellow, about this special case, I mean: actual fact and a man’s temperament, my dear sir, are weighty matters and it’s astonishing how they sometimes deceive the sharpest calculation! I—listen to an old man—am speaking seriously, Rodion Romanovitch” (as he said this Porfiry Petrovitch, who was scarcely five-and-thirty, actually seemed to have grown old; even his voice changed and he seemed to shrink together) “Moreover, I’m a candid man... am I a candid man or not?

What do you say? I fancy I really am: I tell you these things for

nothing and don’t even expect a reward for it, he-he! Well, to proceed, wit in my opinion is a splendid thing, it is, so to say, an adornment of nature and a consolation of life, and what tricks it can play! So that it sometimes is hard for a poor examining lawyer to know where he is, especially when he’s liable to be carried away by his own fancy, too, for you know he is a man after all! But the poor fellow is saved by the criminal’s temperament, worse luck for him! But young people carried away by their own wit don’t think of that ‘when they overstep all obstacles,’ as you wittily and cleverly expressed it yesterday.

He will lie—that is, the man who is a special case, the incognito, and he will lie well, in the cleverest fashion; you might think he would triumph and enjoy the fruits of his wit, but at the most interesting, the most flagrant moment he will faint. Of course there may be illness and a stuffy room as well, but anyway! Anyway he’s given us the idea! He lied incomparably, but he didn’t reckon on his temperament. That’s what betrays him! Another time he will be carried away by his playful wit into making fun of the man who suspects him, he will turn pale as it were on purpose to mislead, but his paleness will be too natural, too much like the real thing, again he has given us an idea!

Though his questioner may be deceived at first, he will think differently next day if he is not a fool, and, of course, it is like that at every step! He puts himself forward where he is not wanted, speaks continually when he ought to keep silent, brings in all sorts of allegorical allusions, he-he! Comes and asks why didn’t you take me long ago? he-he-he! And that can happen, you know, with the cleverest man, the psychologist, the literary man. The temperament reflects everything like a mirror! Gaze into it and admire what you see!

But why are you so pale, Rodion Romanovitch? Is the room stuffy? Shall I open the window?” “Oh, don’t trouble, please,” cried Raskolnikov and he suddenly broke into a laugh. “Please don’t trouble.” Porfiry stood facing him, paused a moment and suddenly he too laughed. Raskolnikov got up from the sofa, abruptly checking his hysterical laughter. “Porfiry Petrovitch,” he began, speaking loudly and distinctly, though his legs trembled and he could scarcely stand.

“I see clearly at last that you actually suspect me of murdering that old woman and her sister Lizaveta. Let me tell you for my part that I am sick of this. If you find that you have a right to prosecute me legally, to arrest me, then prosecute me, arrest me. But I will not let myself be jeered at to my face and worried...” His lips trembled, his eyes glowed with fury and he could not restrain his voice. “I won’t allow it!” he shouted, bringing his fist down on the table. “Do you hear that, Porfiry Petrovitch? I won’t allow it.” “Good heavens! What does it mean?” cried Porfiry Petrovitch, apparently quite frightened.

“Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow, what is the matter with you?” “I won’t allow it,” Raskolnikov shouted again. “Hush, my dear man! They’ll hear and come in. Just think, what could we say to them?” Porfiry Petrovitch whispered in horror, bringing his face close to Raskolnikov’s. “I won’t allow it, I won’t allow it,” Raskolnikov repeated mechanically, but he too spoke in a sudden whisper. Porfiry turned quickly and ran to open the window. “Some fresh air! And you must have some water, my dear fellow. You’re ill!” and he was running to the door to call for some when he found a decanter of water in the corner.

“Come, drink a little,” he whispered, rushing up to him with the decanter. “It will be sure to do you good.” Porfiry Petrovitch’s alarm and sympathy were so natural that Raskolnikov was silent and began looking at him with wild curiosity. He did not take the water, however. “Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow, you’ll drive yourself out of your mind, I assure you, ach, ach! Have some water, do drink a little.”

He forced him to take the glass. Raskolnikov raised it mechanically to his lips, but set it on the table again with disgust. “Yes, you’ve had a little attack! You’ll bring back your illness again, my dear fellow,” Porfiry Petrovitch cackled with friendly sympathy, though he still looked rather disconcerted. “Good heavens, you must take more care of yourself!

Dmitri Prokofitch was here, came to see me yesterday—I know, I know, I’ve a nasty, ironical temper, but what they made of it!... Good heavens, he came yesterday after you’d been. We dined and he talked and talked away, and I could only throw up my hands in despair! Did he come from you? But do sit down, for mercy’s sake, sit down!” “No, not from me, but I knew he went to you and why he went,” Raskolnikov answered sharply. “You knew?”