Anxious to get straight to the point, Raskolnikoff rose and took up his cap. "Porphyrius Petrovitch," he cried, in a resolute tone of voice, betraying more or less irritation, "yesterday you expressed the desire to subject me to a judicial examination." (He laid special stress on this last word.) "I have called at your bidding; if you have questions to put, do so: if not, allow me to withdraw. I can't afford to waste my time here, as I have other things to attend to. In a word, I must go to the funeral of the official who has been run over, and of whom you have heard speak," he added, regretting, however, the last part of his sentence. Then, with increasing anger, he went on: "Let me tell you that all this worries me! The thing is hanging over much too long. It is that mainly that has made me ill. In one word,"—he continued, his voice seeming more and more irritable, for he felt that the remark about his illness was yet more out of place than the previous one—"in one word, either be good enough to cross-examine me, or let me go this very moment. If you do question me, do so in the usual formal way; otherwise, I shall object. In the meanwhile, adieu, since we have nothing more to do with one another."
"Good gracious! What can you be talking about? Question you about what?" replied the magistrate, immediately ceasing his laugh. "Don't, I beg, disturb yourself." He requested Raskolnikoff to sit down once more, continuing, nevertheless, his tramp about the room. "There is time, plenty of time. The matter is not of such importance after all. On the contrary, I am delighted at your visit—for as such do I take your call. As for my horrid way of laughing, batuchka, Rodion Romanovitch, I must apologize. I am a nervous man, and the shrewdness of your observations has tickled me. There are times when I go up and down like an elastic ball, and that for half an hour at a time. I am fond of laughter. My temperament leads me to dread apoplexy. But, pray, do sit down—why remain standing? Do, I must request you, batuchka; otherwise I shall fancy that you are cross."
His brows still knit, Raskolnikoff held his tongue, listened, and watched. In the meanwhile he sat down.
"As far as I am concerned, batuchka, Rodion Romanovitch, I will tell you something which shall reveal to you my disposition," answered Porphyrius Petrovitch, continuing to fidget about the room, and, as before, avoiding his visitor's gaze. "I live alone, you must know, never go into society, and am, therefore, unknown; add to which, that I am a man on the shady side of forty, somewhat played out. You may have noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that here—I mean in Russia, of course, and especially in St. Petersburg circles—that when two intelligent men happen to meet who, as yet, are not familiar, but who, however, have mutual esteem—as, for instance, you and I have at this moment—don't know what to talk about for half an hour at a time. They seem, both of them, as if petrified. Everyone else has a subject for conversation—ladies, for instance, people in society, the upper ten—all these sets have some topic or other. It is the thing, but somehow people of the middle-class, like you and I, seem constrained and taciturn. How does that come about, batuchka? Have we no social interests? Or is it, rather, owing to our being too straightforward to mislead one another? I don't know. What is your opinion, pray? But do, I beg, remove your cap; one would really fancy that you wanted to be off, and that pains me. I, you must know, am so contented."
Raskolnikoff laid his cap down. He did not, however, become more loquacious; and, with knit brows, listened to Porphyrius's idle chatter. "I suppose," thought he, "he only doles out his small talk to distract my attention."
"I don't offer you any coffee," went on the inexhaustible Porphyrius, "because this is not the place for it, but can you not spend a few minutes with a friend, by way of causing him some little distraction? You must know that all these professional obligations—don't be vexed, batuchka, if you see me walking about like this, I am sure you will excuse me, if I tell you how anxious I am not to do so, but movement is so indispensable to me! I am always seated—and, to me, it is quite a luxury to be able to move about for a minute or two. I purpose, in fact, to go through a course of calisthenics. The trapeze is said to stand in high favor amongst State counselors—counselors in office, even amongst privy counselors. Nowadays, in fact, gymnastics have become a positive science. As for these duties of our office, these examinations, all this formality—you yourself, you will remember, touched upon the topic just now, batuchka—these examinations, and so forth, sometimes perplex the magistrate much more than the man under suspicion. You said as much just now with as much sense as accuracy." (Raskolnikoff had made no statement of the kind.) "One gets confused, one loses the thread of the investigation. Yet, as far as our judicial customs go, I agree with you fully. Where, for instance, is there a man under suspicion of some kind or other, were it even the most thick-headed moujik, who does not know that the magistrate will commence by putting all sorts of out-of-the-way questions to take him off the scent (if I may be allowed to use your happy simile), and that then he suddenly gives him one between the eyes? A blow of the ax on his sinciput (if again I may be permitted to use your ingenious metaphor)? Hah, hah! And do you mean to say that when I spoke to you about quarters provided by the State, that—hah, hah! You are very caustic. But I won't revert to that again. By-and-by!—one remark produces another, one thought attracts another—but you were talking just now of the practice or form in vogue with the examining magistrate. But what is this form? You know as I do that in many cases the form means nothing at all. Occasionally a simple conversation, a friendly interview, brings about a more certain result. The practice or form will never die out—I can vouch for that; but what, after all, is the form, I ask once more? You can't compel an examining magistrate to be hampered or bound by it everlastingly. His duty or method is, in its way, one of the liberal professions or something very much like it."
Porphyrius Petrovitch stopped a moment to take breath. He kept on talking, now uttering pure nonsense, now again introducing, in spite of this trash, an occasional enigmatical remark, after which he went on with his insipidities. His tramp about the room was more like a race—he moved his stout legs more and more quickly, without looking up; his right hand was thrust deep in the pocket of his coat, whilst with the left he unceasingly gesticulated in a way unconnected with his observations. Raskolnikoff noticed, or fancied he noticed, that, whilst running round and round the room, he had twice stopped near the door, seeming to listen. "Does he expect something?" he asked himself.
"You're perfectly right," resumed Porphyrius cheerily, whilst looking at the young man with a kindliness which immediately awoke the latter's distrust. "Our judicial customs deserve your satire. Our proceedings, which are supposed to be inspired by a profound knowledge of psychology, are very ridiculous ones, and very often useless. Now, to return to our method or form: Suppose for a moment that I am deputed to investigate something or other, and that I know the guilty person to be a certain gentleman. Are you not yourself reading for the law, Rodion Romanovitch?"
"I was some time ago."
"Well, here is a kind of example which may be of use to you later on. Don't run away with the idea that I am setting up as your instructor—God forbid that I should presume to teach anything to a man who treats criminal questions in the public press! Oh, no!—all I am doing is to quote to you, by way of example, a trifling fact. Suppose that I fancy I am convinced of the guilt of a certain man, why, I ask you, should I frighten him prematurely, assuming me to have every evidence against him? Of course, in the case of another man of a different disposition, him I would have arrested forthwith; but, as to the former, why should I not permit him to hang about a little longer? I see you do not quite take me. I will, therefore, endeavor to explain myself more clearly! If, for instance, I should be too quick in issuing a writ, I provide him in doing so with a species of moral support or mainstay—I see you are laughing?" (Raskolnikoff, on the contrary, had no such desire; his lips were set, and his glaring look was not removed from Porphyrius's eyes.) "I assure you that in actual practice such is really the case; men vary much, although, unfortunately, our methods are the same for all. But you will ask me: Supposing you are certain of your proofs? Goodness me, batuchka! you know, perhaps as well as I do, what proofs are—half one's time, proofs may be taken either way; and I, a magistrate, am, after all, only a man liable to error.