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- Федор Достоевский
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- Стр. 1/453
Crime and punishment
On
an
exceptionally
hot
evening
early
in
July
a
young
man
came
out
of
the
garret
in
which
he
lodged
in
S
.
Place
and
walked
slowly
,
as
though
in
hesitation
,
towards
K
.
bridge
.
He
had
successfully
avoided
meeting
his
landlady
on
the
staircase
.
His
garret
was
under
the
roof
of
a
high
,
five
-
storied
house
and
was
more
like
a
cupboard
than
a
room
.
The
landlady
who
provided
him
with
garret
,
dinners
,
and
attendance
,
lived
on
the
floor
below
,
and
every
time
he
went
out
he
was
obliged
to
pass
her
kitchen
,
the
door
of
which
invariably
stood
open
.
And
each
time
he
passed
,
the
young
man
had
a
sick
,
frightened
feeling
,
which
made
him
scowl
and
feel
ashamed
.
He
was
hopelessly
in
debt
to
his
landlady
,
and
was
afraid
of
meeting
her
.
This
was
not
because
he
was
cowardly
and
abject
,
quite
the
contrary
;
but
for
some
time
past
he
had
been
in
an
overstrained
irritable
condition
,
verging
on
hypochondria
.
He
had
become
so
completely
absorbed
in
himself
,
and
isolated
from
his
fellows
that
he
dreaded
meeting
,
not
only
his
landlady
,
but
anyone
at
all
.
He
was
crushed
by
poverty
,
but
the
anxieties
of
his
position
had
of
late
ceased
to
weigh
upon
him
.
He
had
given
up
attending
to
matters
of
practical
importance
;
he
had
lost
all
desire
to
do
so
.
Nothing
that
any
landlady
could
do
had
a
real
terror
for
him
.
But
to
be
stopped
on
the
stairs
,
to
be
forced
to
listen
to
her
trivial
,
irrelevant
gossip
,
to
pestering
demands
for
payment
,
threats
and
complaints
,
and
to
rack
his
brains
for
excuses
,
to
prevaricate
,
to
lie
—
no
,
rather
than
that
,
he
would
creep
down
the
stairs
like
a
cat
and
slip
out
unseen
.
This
evening
,
however
,
on
coming
out
into
the
street
,
he
became
acutely
aware
of
his
fears
.
“
I
want
to
attempt
a
thing
like
that
and
am
frightened
by
these
trifles
,
”
he
thought
,
with
an
odd
smile
.
“
Hm
.
.
.
yes
,
all
is
in
a
man
’
s
hands
and
he
lets
it
all
slip
from
cowardice
,
that
’
s
an
axiom
.
It
would
be
interesting
to
know
what
it
is
men
are
most
afraid
of
.
Taking
a
new
step
,
uttering
a
new
word
is
what
they
fear
most
.
.
.
.
But
I
am
talking
too
much
.
It
’
s
because
I
chatter
that
I
do
nothing
.
Or
perhaps
it
is
that
I
chatter
because
I
do
nothing
.
I
’
ve
learned
to
chatter
this
last
month
,
lying
for
days
together
in
my
den
thinking
.
.
.
of
Jack
the
Giant
-
killer
.
Why
am
I
going
there
now
?
Am
I
capable
of
that
?
Is
that
serious
?
It
is
not
serious
at
all
.
It
’
s
simply
a
fantasy
to
amuse
myself
;
a
plaything
!
Yes
,
maybe
it
is
a
plaything
.
”
The
heat
in
the
street
was
terrible
:
and
the
airlessness
,
the
bustle
and
the
plaster
,
scaffolding
,
bricks
,
and
dust
all
about
him
,
and
that
special
Petersburg
stench
,
so
familiar
to
all
who
are
unable
to
get
out
of
town
in
summer
—
all
worked
painfully
upon
the
young
man
’
s
already
overwrought
nerves
.
The
insufferable
stench
from
the
pot
-
houses
,
which
are
particularly
numerous
in
that
part
of
the
town
,
and
the
drunken
men
whom
he
met
continually
,
although
it
was
a
working
day
,
completed
the
revolting
misery
of
the
picture
.
An
expression
of
the
profoundest
disgust
gleamed
for
a
moment
in
the
young
man
’
s
refined
face
.
He
was
,
by
the
way
,
exceptionally
handsome
,
above
the
average
in
height
,
slim
,
well
-
built
,
with
beautiful
dark
eyes
and
dark
brown
hair
.
Soon
he
sank
into
deep
thought
,
or
more
accurately
speaking
into
a
complete
blankness
of
mind
;
he
walked
along
not
observing
what
was
about
him
and
not
caring
to
observe
it
.
From
time
to
time
,
he
would
mutter
something
,
from
the
habit
of
talking
to
himself
,
to
which
he
had
just
confessed
.
At
these
moments
he
would
become
conscious
that
his
ideas
were
sometimes
in
a
tangle
and
that
he
was
very
weak
;
for
two
days
he
had
scarcely
tasted
food
.
He
was
so
badly
dressed
that
even
a
man
accustomed
to
shabbiness
would
have
been
ashamed
to
be
seen
in
the
street
in
such
rags
.
In
that
quarter
of
the
town
,
however
,
scarcely
any
shortcoming
in
dress
would
have
created
surprise
.
Owing
to
the
proximity
of
the
Hay
Market
,
the
number
of
establishments
of
bad
character
,
the
preponderance
of
the
trading
and
working
class
population
crowded
in
these
streets
and
alleys
in
the
heart
of
Petersburg
,
types
so
various
were
to
be
seen
in
the
streets
that
no
figure
,
however
queer
,
would
have
caused
surprise
.
But
there
was
such
accumulated
bitterness
and
contempt
in
the
young
man
’
s
heart
,
that
,
in
spite
of
all
the
fastidiousness
of
youth
,
he
minded
his
rags
least
of
all
in
the
street
.
It
was
a
different
matter
when
he
met
with
acquaintances
or
with
former
fellow
students
,
whom
,
indeed
,
he
disliked
meeting
at
any
time
.
And
yet
when
a
drunken
man
who
,
for
some
unknown
reason
,
was
being
taken
somewhere
in
a
huge
waggon
dragged
by
a
heavy
dray
horse
,
suddenly
shouted
at
him
as
he
drove
past
:
“
Hey
there
,
German
hatter
”
bawling
at
the
top
of
his
voice
and
pointing
at
him
—
the
young
man
stopped
suddenly
and
clutched
tremulously
at
his
hat
.
It
was
a
tall
round
hat
from
Zimmerman
’
s
,
but
completely
worn
out
,
rusty
with
age
,
all
torn
and
bespattered
,
brimless
and
bent
on
one
side
in
a
most
unseemly
fashion
.
Not
shame
,
however
,
but
quite
another
feeling
akin
to
terror
had
overtaken
him
.
“
I
knew
it
,
”
he
muttered
in
confusion
,
“
I
thought
so
!
That
’
s
the
worst
of
all
!
Why
,
a
stupid
thing
like
this
,
the
most
trivial
detail
might
spoil
the
whole
plan
.
Yes
,
my
hat
is
too
noticeable
.
.
.
.
It
looks
absurd
and
that
makes
it
noticeable
.
.
.
.
With
my
rags
I
ought
to
wear
a
cap
,
any
sort
of
old
pancake
,
but
not
this
grotesque
thing
.
Nobody
wears
such
a
hat
,
it
would
be
noticed
a
mile
off
,
it
would
be
remembered
.
.
.
.
What
matters
is
that
people
would
remember
it
,
and
that
would
give
them
a
clue
.
For
this
business
one
should
be
as
little
conspicuous
as
possible
.
.
.
.
Trifles
,
trifles
are
what
matter
!
Why
,
it
’
s
just
such
trifles
that
always
ruin
everything
.
.
.
.
”
