PART I // chapter 7-3

[모나리자]

그는 몹시 서둘렀고, 열쇠를 낚아채서 다시 시도해 보았다. 하지만 그는 실패했다. 열쇠는 자물쇠에 맞지 않았다. 그의 손이 떨렸다기보다는 계속 실수를 했기 때문이다. 그는 예를 들어 열쇠가 맞지 않고 맞지 않는다는 것을 알았지만, 그래도 그것을 넣으려고 노력했다. 갑자기 그는 깊은 홈이 있는 큰 열쇠가 작은 열쇠들과 함께 매달려 있는 것이 서랍장에 있을 리가 없다는 것을 기억해냈다(마지막 방문 때 이런 생각이 들었다). 그러나 어떤 튼튼한 상자에 속해 있었고, 아마도 모든 것이 그 상자에 숨겨져 있었을 것이다.

그는 서랍장을 나와서 침대 밑을 만져보았다. 늙은 여자들은 보통 침대 밑에 상자를 둔다는 것을 알고 있었기 때문이다. 그리고 그렇게 되었다. 침대 밑에는 길이가 적어도 1야드인 꽤 큰 상자가 있었고, 붉은 가죽으로 덮이고 강철 못이 박힌 아치형 뚜껑이 있었다. 홈이 있는 열쇠가 즉시 들어맞아 자물쇠를 열었다. 맨 위, 흰 시트 아래에 토끼 가죽으로 안감을 댄 붉은 브로케이드 코트가 있었다. 그 아래에는 실크 드레스가 있었고, 그 다음에는 숄이 있었고, 그 아래에는 옷 외에는 아무것도 없는 것처럼 보였다. 그가 한 첫 번째 일은 붉은 브로케이드에 피가 묻은 손을 닦는 것이었다. "빨간색이고, 붉은색이라면 피가 덜 눈에 띄겠지."라는 생각이 그의 머릿속을 스쳐 지나갔다. 그리고 그는 갑자기 정신을 차렸다.

"맙소사, 내가 정신을 잃는 건가?" 그는 공포에 질려 생각했다. 하지만 그가 옷을 만지자마자 모피 코트 아래에서 금시계가 미끄러져 나왔다. 그는 서둘러 모든 것을 뒤집었다. 옷들 사이에 금으로 만든 다양한 물건들이 있었다. 아마도 모든 담보, 상환되지 않았거나 상환을 기다리는 것, 팔찌, 체인, 귀걸이, 핀과 같은 것들이었다. 일부는 케이스에 들어 있었고, 다른 것들은 신문지에 싸서 조심스럽고 정확하게 접은 다음 테이프로 묶었다. 그는 지체 없이 바지와 외투 주머니를 채우기 시작했으며, 소포와 상자를 살펴보거나 풀지 않았다.

하지만 그는 많은 것을 가져갈 시간이 없었다.... 그는 갑자기 늙은 여자가 누워 있는 방에서 발소리가 들렸다. 그는 갑자기 멈추고 죽은 듯이 움직이지 않았다. 하지만 모든 것이 조용했으므로 그것은 그의 환상이었을 것이다. 그는 갑자기 누군가가 낮고 끊어진 신음소리를 낸 것처럼 희미한 울음소리를 분명히 들었다. 그리고 다시 1, 2분 동안 죽은 듯이 조용했다. 그는 상자 옆에 발꿈치를 짚고 웅크리고 앉아 숨을 참고 기다렸다. 그는 갑자기 벌떡 일어나 도끼를 잡고 침실에서 뛰쳐나갔다.

방 한가운데에 리자베타가 큰 꾸러미를 안고 서 있었다. 그녀는 시트처럼 하얗게 질린 살해된 자매를 멍하니 바라보고 있었고

소리를 지를 힘이 없는 듯했다. 그가 침실에서 뛰쳐나가는 것을 보고 그녀는 온몸이 나뭇잎처럼 가볍게 떨기 시작했고, 얼굴에 떨림이 퍼졌다. 그녀는 손을 들어 입을 열었지만 여전히 비명을 지르지는 않았다. 그녀는 천천히 그에게서 멀어져 구석으로 물러나며, 그를 끈기 있게 응시했지만, 여전히 소리를 내지 않았다. 마치 비명을 지를 숨을 쉬지 못하는 듯했다. 그는 도끼를 들고 그녀에게 달려들었다.

그녀의 입은 아기의 입이 무서워지기 시작할 때, 무서워하는 것을 응시하고 비명을 지르려고 하는 것을 보는 것처럼 애처롭게 꿈틀거렸다. 그리고 이 불운한 리자베타는 너무나 단순했고 너무나 철저히 짓밟히고 무서워서 그녀는 얼굴을 가리기 위해 손도 들지 않았다. 그것이 그 순간 가장 필요하고 자연스러운 행동이었지만, 도끼가 그녀의 얼굴 위로 올려졌기 때문이다.

그녀는 단지 그녀의 빈 왼손을 들어올렸지만, 얼굴에는 올리지 않았고, 마치 그에게 손짓하듯 천천히 그녀 앞에 내밀었다. 도끼는 날카로운 모서리와 함께 두개골 바로 위에 떨어졌고, 한 번의 타격으로 머리 꼭대기 전체가 갈라졌다. 그녀는 한꺼번에 무겁게 쓰러졌다. 라스콜니코프는 완전히 머리를 잃고 그녀의 꾸러미를 낚아채 다시 떨어뜨리고 입구로 달려갔다. 두려움이 그를 점점 더 지배했고, 특히 이 두 번째, 전혀 예상치 못한 살인 사건 이후로 더욱 그랬다. 그는 가능한 한 빨리 그 자리에서 도망치고 싶었다.

그리고 그 순간에 그가 더 올바르게 보고 추론할 수 있었다면, 그가 자신의 입장의 모든 어려움, 절망, 흉측함, 부조리를 깨달을 수 있었다면, 그가 그 자리에서 빠져나와 집으로 돌아가기 위해 극복하거나 저지르지 못한 장애물과 아마도 범죄가 얼마나 많은지 이해할 수 있었다면, 그는 모든 것을 내던지고 항복하러 갔을 가능성이 매우 높으며, 두려움 때문이 아니라 자신이 한 일에 대한 단순한 공포와 혐오감 때문에 항복했을 것이다. 특히 혐오감이 그의 안에서 솟구쳐 올라 매 순간 더 강해졌다. 그는 지금 세상의 어떤 것을 위해서도 상자나 방으로 가지 않았을 것이다.

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He was in terrible haste, he snatched the keys, and began trying them again. But he was unsuccessful. They would not fit in the locks. It was not so much that his hands were shaking, but that he kept making mistakes; though he saw for instance that a key was not the right one and would not fit, still he tried to put it in. Suddenly he remembered and realised that the big key with the deep notches, which was hanging there with the small keys could not possibly belong to the chest of drawers (on his last visit this had struck him), but to some strong box, and that everything perhaps was hidden in that box.

He left the chest of drawers, and at once felt under the bedstead, knowing that old women usually keep boxes under their beds. And so it was; there was a good-sized box under the bed, at least a yard in length, with an arched lid covered with red leather and studded with steel nails. The notched key fitted at once and unlocked it. At the top, under a white sheet, was a coat of red brocade lined with hareskin; under it was a silk dress, then a shawl and it seemed as though there was nothing below but clothes. The first thing he did was to wipe his blood-stained hands on the red brocade. “It’s red, and on red blood will be less noticeable,” the thought passed through his mind; then he suddenly came to himself.

“Good God, am I going out of my senses?” he thought with terror. But no sooner did he touch the clothes than a gold watch slipped from under the fur coat. He made haste to turn them all over. There turned out to be various articles made of gold among the clothes—probably all pledges, unredeemed or waiting to be redeemed—bracelets, chains, ear-rings, pins and such things. Some were in cases, others simply wrapped in newspaper, carefully and exactly folded, and tied round with tape. Without any delay, he began filling up the pockets of his trousers and overcoat without examining or undoing the parcels and cases;

but he had not time to take many.... He suddenly heard steps in the room where the old woman lay. He stopped short and was still as death. But all was quiet, so it must have been his fancy. All at once he heard distinctly a faint cry, as though someone had uttered a low broken moan. Then again dead silence for a minute or two. He sat squatting on his heels by the box and waited holding his breath. Suddenly he jumped up, seized the axe and ran out of the bedroom.

In the middle of the room stood Lizaveta with a big bundle in her arms. She was gazing in stupefaction at her murdered sister, white as a sheet

and seeming not to have the strength to cry out. Seeing him run out of the bedroom, she began faintly quivering all over, like a leaf, a shudder ran down her face; she lifted her hand, opened her mouth, but still did not scream. She began slowly backing away from him into the corner, staring intently, persistently at him, but still uttered no sound, as though she could not get breath to scream. He rushed at her with the axe;

her mouth twitched piteously, as one sees babies’ mouths, when they begin to be frightened, stare intently at what frightens them and are on the point of screaming. And this hapless Lizaveta was so simple and had been so thoroughly crushed and scared that she did not even raise a hand to guard her face, though that was the most necessary and natural action at the moment, for the axe was raised over her face.

She only put up her empty left hand, but not to her face, slowly holding it out before her as though motioning him away. The axe fell with the sharp edge just on the skull and split at one blow all the top of the head. She fell heavily at once. Raskolnikov completely lost his head, snatching up her bundle, dropped it again and ran into the entry. Fear gained more and more mastery over him, especially after this second, quite unexpected murder. He longed to run away from the place as fast as possible.

And if at that moment he had been capable of seeing and reasoning more correctly, if he had been able to realise all the difficulties of his position, the hopelessness, the hideousness and the absurdity of it, if he could have understood how many obstacles and, perhaps, crimes he had still to overcome or to commit, to get out of that place and to make his way home, it is very possible that he would have flung up everything, and would have gone to give himself up, and not from fear, but from simple horror and loathing of what he had done. The feeling of loathing especially surged up within him and grew stronger every minute. He would not now have gone to the box or even into the room for anything in the world.