PART 2 // chapter 1-8

[모나리자]

라스콜니코프는 갑자기 그들에게 특별히 기분 좋은 말을 하고 싶은 마음이 들었다. "실례합니다, 선장님." 그는 갑자기 니코딤 포미치에게 말을 걸며 가볍게 말을 시작했다. "제 입장에 들어주시겠어요?... ​​제가 예의가 없었다면 용서해 달라고 부탁할 준비가 되어 있습니다. 저는 가난한 학생이고, 가난 때문에 아프고 망가졌습니다(망가졌다는 말이 그가 사용한 단어였습니다). 저는 공부를 하지 않습니다. 지금은 제 자신을 지킬 수 없기 때문입니다. 하지만 돈은 벌 것입니다... 저는 X 지방에 어머니와 누이가 있습니다. 그들이 돈을 보내줄 것이고, 저는 돈을 낼 것입니다.

제 집주인은 마음씨가 착한 여자지만, 제가 수업을 잃고 지난 4개월 동안 그녀에게 돈을 주지 않아서 너무 화가 나서 저녁도 보내지 않습니다... 그리고 저는 이 말을 전혀 이해할 수 없습니다. 그녀는 저에게 이 일에 대해 돈을 지불해 달라고 합니다. 어떻게 그녀에게 돈을 지불해야 합니까? 스스로 판단하세요!..." "하지만 그건 우리가 할 일이 아니에요, 알다시피요." 서기가 관찰하고 있었다.

"그래요, 맞아요. 전적으로 동의합니다. 하지만 제가 설명드리죠..." 라스콜니코프가 다시 말을 걸었다. 여전히 니코딤 포미치에게 말을 걸었지만, 일리야 페트로비치에게도 말을 걸려고 최선을 다했지만, 후자는 끈질기게 서류를 뒤지고 있고 그를 경멸스럽게도 모르는 듯했다. "제가 그녀와 거의 3년 동안 살았다는 것을 설명하겠습니다. 처음에는... 처음에는... 왜 고백하지 않겠습니까. 처음에 저는 그녀의 딸과 결혼하겠다고 약속했습니다. 그것은 구두 약속이었고, 기꺼이 한 것이었습니다... 그녀는 소녀였습니다... 사실, 저는 그녀를 좋아했습니다. 그녀를 사랑하지는 않았지만... 사실 젊은 시절의 일이었습니다... 즉, 제 집주인이 그 당시에 저에게 기꺼이 신용을 주었고, 저는... 매우 무심했습니다..."

"아무도 당신에게 이런 개인적인 세부 사항을 묻지 않습니다, 선생님. 낭비할 시간이 없습니다." 일리야 페트로비치가 거칠게 말하며 승리의 어조로 끼어들었지만, 라스콜니코프는 갑자기 말하기가 매우 어렵다는 것을 알았지만 그를 격렬하게 막았습니다. "하지만 실례합니다, 실례합니다. 제가 설명해야 할 것은... 어떻게 모든 일이 일어났는지입니다... 제 차례입니다... 저도 당신의 의견에 동의하지만... 불필요합니다. 하지만 1년 전에 그 소녀는 티푸스로 죽었습니다. 나는 예전처럼 그곳에서 숙박했고, 집주인이 지금의 숙소로 이사했을 때, 그녀는 나에게... 친절하게... 나를 전적으로 신뢰한다고 말했어요.

하지만 그래도 그녀에게 115루블의 I O U를 주지 않겠어요? 내가 그녀에게 진 모든 빚이에요. 그녀는 내가 그녀에게 그것을 주기만 하면, 내가 원하는 만큼 나를 다시 믿을 거라고 말했고, 그녀는 결코, 결코—그녀의 말이었어요—내가 스스로 빚을 갚을 때까지 그 I O U를 사용하지 않을 거라고 말했어요... 그리고 지금, 내가 수업을 잃고 먹을 것도 없는데, 그녀는 나에게 조치를 취해요. 내가 뭐라고 말해야 할까요?”

“이 모든 감동적인 세부 사항은 우리와는 상관없는 일이에요.” 일리야 페트로비치가 무례하게 말을 가로채며 말했다. “서면으로 약속을 해야 하지만, 당신의 연애와 이 모든 비극적인 사건은 우리와는 아무 상관이 없어요.” “어서... 당신은 가혹하군요.” 니코딤 포미치가 중얼거리며 테이블에 앉아서 글을 쓰기 시작했다. 그는 약간 부끄러워하는 듯했다. “쓰세요!” 서기가 라스콜니코프에게 말했다. “무엇을 쓰세요?” 후자가 무뚝뚝하게 물었다.

“내가 지시하겠습니다.” 라스콜니코프는 서기가 자신의 연설 후에 자신을 더 태연하고 경멸적으로 대했다고 생각했지만, 이상하게도 그는 갑자기 누구의 의견에도 전혀 무관심해졌고, 이 혐오감은 순식간에, 한순간에 일어났다. 그가 조금만 생각해 보았다면, 그는 1분 전에 그들에게 그렇게 말할 수 있었다는 사실에 정말로 놀랐을 것이다.

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Raskolnikov had a sudden desire to say something exceptionally pleasant to them all. “Excuse me, Captain,” he began easily, suddenly addressing Nikodim Fomitch, “will you enter into my position?... I am ready to ask pardon, if I have been ill-mannered. I am a poor student, sick and shattered (shattered was the word he used) by poverty. I am not studying, because I cannot keep myself now, but I shall get money.... I have a mother and sister in the province of X. They will send it to me, and I will pay.

My landlady is a good-hearted woman, but she is so exasperated at my having lost my lessons, and not paying her for the last four months, that she does not even send up my dinner... and I don’t understand this I O U at all. She is asking me to pay her on this I O U. How am I to pay her? Judge for yourselves!...” “But that is not our business, you know,” the head clerk was observing.

“Yes, yes. I perfectly agree with you. But allow me to explain...” Raskolnikov put in again, still addressing Nikodim Fomitch, but trying his best to address Ilya Petrovitch also, though the latter persistently appeared to be rummaging among his papers and to be contemptuously oblivious of him. “Allow me to explain that I have been living with her for nearly three years and at first... at first... for why should I not confess it, at the very beginning I promised to marry her daughter, it was a verbal promise, freely given... she was a girl... indeed, I liked her, though I was not in love with her... a youthful affair in fact... that is, I mean to say, that my landlady gave me credit freely in those days, and I led a life of... I was very heedless...”

“Nobody asks you for these personal details, sir, we’ve no time to waste,” Ilya Petrovitch interposed roughly and with a note of triumph; but Raskolnikov stopped him hotly, though he suddenly found it exceedingly difficult to speak. “But excuse me, excuse me. It is for me to explain... how it all happened... In my turn... though I agree with you... it is unnecessary. But a year ago, the girl died of typhus. I remained lodging there as before, and when my landlady moved into her present quarters, she said to me... and in a friendly way... that she had complete trust in me,

but still, would I not give her an I O U for one hundred and fifteen roubles, all the debt I owed her. She said if only I gave her that, she would trust me again, as much as I liked, and that she would never, never—those were her own words—make use of that I O U till I could pay of myself... and now, when I have lost my lessons and have nothing to eat, she takes action against me. What am I to say to that?”

“All these affecting details are no business of ours.” Ilya Petrovitch interrupted rudely. “You must give a written undertaking but as for your love affairs and all these tragic events, we have nothing to do with that.” “Come now... you are harsh,” muttered Nikodim Fomitch, sitting down at the table and also beginning to write. He looked a little ashamed. “Write!” said the head clerk to Raskolnikov. “Write what?” the latter asked, gruffly.

“I will dictate to you.” Raskolnikov fancied that the head clerk treated him more casually and contemptuously after his speech, but strange to say he suddenly felt completely indifferent to anyone’s opinion, and this revulsion took place in a flash, in one instant. If he had cared to think a little, he would have been amazed indeed that he could have talked to them like that a minute before,