PART 2 // chapter 3-1

[모나리자]

CHAPTER III

그는 완전히 의식을 잃은 것은 아니었지만, 아플 때는 항상 그랬다. 그는 열이 나고, 때로는 정신이 나갔고, 때로는 반쯤 의식이 있었다. 그는 나중에 많은 것을 기억해냈다. 때로는 주변에 많은 사람들이 있는 것 같았다. 그들은 그를 어딘가로 데려가고 싶어했고, 그에 대해 많은 말다툼과 토론이 있었다. 그러면 그는 방에 혼자 있었다. 그들은 모두 그를 두려워하며 떠났고, 가끔씩만 문을 살짝 열어 그를 바라보았다. 그들은 그를 위협하고, 무언가를 획책하고, 웃고, 조롱했다.

그는 종종 침대 옆에 있는 나스타샤를 기억했다. 그는 또한 자신이 아주 잘 아는 것 같은 다른 사람을 알아봤다. 하지만 그는 그가 누구인지 기억할 수 없었고, 이것은 그를 짜증나게 했고, 심지어 울게 했다. 때때로 그는 한 달 동안 거기에 누워 있었다고 생각했다. 다른 때는 모든 것이 같은 날의 일부인 것 같았다. 하지만 그것에 대해서는 기억이 나지 않았고, 그럼에도 불구하고 매 순간 그는 기억해야 할 무언가를 잊었다고 느꼈다. 그는 기억하려고 애쓰며 걱정하고 괴로워했고, 신음했고, 격노했고, 끔찍하고 참을 수 없는 공포에 빠졌습니다. 그러고 나서 그는 일어나려고 애썼고, 도망가려고 했지만, 누군가가 항상 강제로 그를 막았고, 그는 다시 무력감과 건망증에 빠졌습니다. 마침내 그는 완전히 의식을 되찾았습니다. 그것은 오전 10시에 일어났습니다. 맑은 날에는 그 시간에 태양이 방으로 들어와 오른쪽 벽과 문 근처 모서리에 빛줄기를 비췄습니다. 나스타샤는 그 옆에 다른 사람, 완전히 낯선 사람과 함께 서 있었고, 그는 그를 매우 호기심 어린 눈으로 바라보고 있었습니다.

그는 수염을 기른 ​​청년이었고, 허리가 짧은 코트를 입고 있었고, 메신저처럼 보였습니다. 집주인이 반쯤 열린 문을 들여다보고 있었습니다. 라스콜니코프가 일어나 앉았습니다. "이 사람은 누구야, 나스타샤?" 그는 청년을 가리키며 물었습니다. "그는 다시 그 사람이에요!" 그녀가 말했습니다. "그는 그 사람이에요." 그 남자가 되뇌었습니다. 집주인은 그가 정신을 차렸다고 결론 내리고 문을 닫고 사라졌다. 그녀는 항상 수줍어했고 대화나 토론을 두려워했다. 그녀는 40대의 여성이었고, 전혀 나쁘지 않았고, 살찐 풍만했으며, 검은 눈과 눈썹을 가지고 있었고, 살찐 것과 게으름 때문에 상냥했고, 터무니없이 수줍어했다. "누구야...?" 그는 그 남자에게 말을 걸며 계속했다. 하지만 그 순간 문이 활짝 열리고, 키가 너무 커서 약간 몸을 숙인 라주미힌이 들어왔다.

"이게 무슨 오두막이야!" 그는 소리쳤다. "나는 항상 머리를 두드려. 여기를 숙소라고 부르니! 그럼 의식이 있는 거야, 형님? 방금 파셴카 소식을 들었어.

" "방금 정신을 차렸어." 나스타샤가 말했다. "방금 정신을 차렸어." 남자가 다시 미소를 지으며 말했다. "그리고 당신은 누구야?" 라주미힌이 갑자기 그에게 말을 걸며 물었다. "제 이름은 브라주미힌입니다. 당신을 위해 일합니다. 항상 라주미힌이라고 불리는 것이 아니라 학생이자 신사인 브라주미힌입니다. 그는 제 친구입니다. 당신은 누구입니까?" "저는 우리 사무실의 메신저이고 상인 셸로파예프가 보낸 것입니다. 출장을 왔습니다."

"앉으세요." 라주미힌은 테이블 반대편에 앉았습니다. "형제님, 잘 오셨습니다." 그는 라스콜니코프에게 말을 이었습니다. "지난 4일 동안 거의 아무것도 먹거나 마시지 않으셨어요. 우리는 숟가락으로 차를 줘야 했습니다. 저는 조시모프를 두 번이나 데려왔습니다. 조시모프 기억나세요? 그는 당신을 주의 깊게 살펴보고 즉시 심각한 일은 아니라고 말했습니다. 뭔가 이상한 생각이 든 것 같았습니다. 뭔가 신경질적인 헛소리를 했고, 제대로 먹지 않아서 맥주와 무를 충분히 먹지 못했다고 했지만, 별일은 아니고 지나갈 것이고 괜찮을 겁니다.

조시모프는 일류입니다! 그는 꽤 유명해. 어서, 나는 당신을 붙잡아 두지 않을 거야." 그는 다시 그 남자에게 말을 걸며 말했다. "무슨 말을 원하는지 설명해 줄래? 로디아, 사무실에서 보낸 건 이번이 두 번째야. 하지만 지난번에는 다른 사람이었고, 나는 그 사람과 이야기를 나누었어. 그 전에 온 사람은 누구였지?" "그건 그저께였습니다. 감히 말씀드리자면, 선생님. 알렉세이 세묘노비치였습니다. 그는 우리 사무실에 있습니다." "그는 당신보다 더 똑똑했을 거라고 생각하지 않나요?" "그렇습니다, 선생님. 그는 저보다 더 영향력이 있습니다."

"그렇습니다. 계속하세요." "당신 엄마의 요청에 따라, 당신이 한 번 이상 들었을 것 같은 아파나시 이바노비치 바흐루신을 통해 우리 사무실에서 송금을 보냈습니다." 그 남자가 라스콜니코프에게 말을 걸며 시작했다.

"당신이 알아들을 수 있는 상태라면, 세묜 세묜노비치가 당신 엄마의 요청에 따라 아파나시 이바노비치로부터 그 지시를 받았듯이, 당신에게 35루블을 보내야 합니다. 당신은 그를 아십니까, 선생님?" "네, 기억납니다... 바흐루신입니다." 라스콜니코프가 몽롱하게 말했다. "그가 바흐루신을 알고 있다는 걸 알죠." 라주미힌이 소리쳤다. "그는 '알 수 있는 상태'입니다! 그리고 당신도 지적인 사람인 걸 알겠습니다. 글쎄요, 지혜로운 말을 듣는 건 항상 기분 좋죠."

"바흐루신, 아파나시 이바노비치입니다. 그리고 당신 엄마의 요청에 따라, 그 엄마를 통해 같은 방식으로 당신에게 송금을 한 번 보내셨고, 이번에도 거절하지 않으셨습니다.

He was not completely unconscious, however, all the time he was ill; he was in a feverish state, sometimes delirious, sometimes half conscious. He remembered a great deal afterwards. Sometimes it seemed as though there were a number of people round him; they wanted to take him away somewhere, there was a great deal of squabbling and discussing about him. Then he would be alone in the room; they had all gone away afraid of him, and only now and then opened the door a crack to look at him; they threatened him, plotted something together, laughed, and mocked at him.

He remembered Nastasya often at his bedside; he distinguished another person, too, whom he seemed to know very well, though he could not remember who he was, and this fretted him, even made him cry. Sometimes he fancied he had been lying there a month; at other times it all seemed part of the same day. But of that—of that he had no recollection, and yet every minute he felt that he had forgotten something he ought to remember. He worried and tormented himself trying to remember, moaned, flew into a rage, or sank into awful, intolerable terror. Then he struggled to get up, would have run away, but someone always prevented him by force, and he sank back into impotence and forgetfulness. At last he returned to complete consciousness. It happened at ten o’clock in the morning. On fine days the sun shone into the room at that hour, throwing a streak of light on the right wall and the corner near the door. Nastasya was standing beside him with another person, a complete stranger, who was looking at him very inquisitively.

He was a young man with a beard, wearing a full, short-waisted coat, and looked like a messenger. The landlady was peeping in at the half-opened door. Raskolnikov sat up. “Who is this, Nastasya?” he asked, pointing to the young man. “I say, he’s himself again!” she said. “He is himself,” echoed the man. Concluding that he had returned to his senses, the landlady closed the door and disappeared. She was always shy and dreaded conversations or discussions. She was a woman of forty, not at all bad-looking, fat and buxom, with black eyes and eyebrows, good-natured from fatness and laziness, and absurdly bashful. “Who... are you?” he went on, addressing the man. But at that moment the door was flung open, and, stooping a little, as he was so tall, Razumihin came in.

“What a cabin it is!” he cried. “I am always knocking my head. You call this a lodging! So you are conscious, brother? I’ve just heard the news from Pashenka.

” “He has just come to,” said Nastasya. “Just come to,” echoed the man again, with a smile. “And who are you?” Razumihin asked, suddenly addressing him. “My name is Vrazumihin, at your service; not Razumihin, as I am always called, but Vrazumihin, a student and gentleman; and he is my friend. And who are you?” “I am the messenger from our office, from the merchant Shelopaev, and I’ve come on business.”

“Please sit down.” Razumihin seated himself on the other side of the table. “It’s a good thing you’ve come to, brother,” he went on to Raskolnikov. “For the last four days you have scarcely eaten or drunk anything. We had to give you tea in spoonfuls. I brought Zossimov to see you twice. You remember Zossimov? He examined you carefully and said at once it was nothing serious—something seemed to have gone to your head. Some nervous nonsense, the result of bad feeding, he says you have not had enough beer and radish, but it’s nothing much, it will pass and you will be all right.

Zossimov is a first-rate fellow! He is making quite a name. Come, I won’t keep you,” he said, addressing the man again. “Will you explain what you want? You must know, Rodya, this is the second time they have sent from the office; but it was another man last time, and I talked to him. Who was it came before?” “That was the day before yesterday, I venture to say, if you please, sir. That was Alexey Semyonovitch; he is in our office, too.” “He was more intelligent than you, don’t you think so?” “Yes, indeed, sir, he is of more weight than I am.”

“Quite so; go on.” “At your mamma’s request, through Afanasy Ivanovitch Vahrushin, of whom I presume you have heard more than once, a remittance is sent to you from our office,” the man began, addressing Raskolnikov.

“If you are in an intelligible condition, I’ve thirty-five roubles to remit to you, as Semyon Semyonovitch has received from Afanasy Ivanovitch at your mamma’s request instructions to that effect, as on previous occasions. Do you know him, sir?” “Yes, I remember... Vahrushin,” Raskolnikov said dreamily. “You hear, he knows Vahrushin,” cried Razumihin. “He is in ‘an intelligible condition’! And I see you are an intelligent man too. Well, it’s always pleasant to hear words of wisdom.”

“That’s the gentleman, Vahrushin, Afanasy Ivanovitch. And at the request of your mamma, who has sent you a remittance once before in the same manner through him, he did not refuse this time also, and sent instructions to Semyon Semyonovitch some days since to hand you thirty-five roubles in the hope of better to come.” “That ‘hoping for better to come’ is the best thing you’ve said, though ‘your mamma’ is not bad either. Come then, what do you say? Is he fully conscious, eh?”