PART I
16. CHAPTER XVI.
(continued)
"Do you hear, prince?" said Nastasia Philipovna. "Do you hear how
this moujik of a fellow goes on bargaining for your bride?"
"He is drunk," said the prince, quietly, "and he loves you very
much."
"Won't you be ashamed, afterwards, to reflect that your wife very
nearly ran away with Rogojin?"
"Oh, you were raving, you were in a fever; you are still half
delirious."
"And won't you be ashamed when they tell you, afterwards, that
your wife lived at Totski's expense so many years?"
"No; I shall not be ashamed of that. You did not so live by your
own will."
"And you'll never reproach me with it?"
"Never."
"Take care, don't commit yourself for a whole lifetime."
"Nastasia Philipovna." said the prince, quietly, and with deep
emotion, "I said before that I shall esteem your consent to be my
wife as a great honour to myself, and shall consider that it is
you who will honour me, not I you, by our marriage. You laughed
at these words, and others around us laughed as well; I heard
them. Very likely I expressed myself funnily, and I may have
looked funny, but, for all that, I believe I understand where
honour lies, and what I said was but the literal truth. You were
about to ruin yourself just now, irrevocably; you would never
have forgiven yourself for so doing afterwards; and yet, you are
absolutely blameless. It is impossible that your life should be
altogether ruined at your age. What matter that Rogojin came
bargaining here, and that Gavrila Ardalionovitch would have
deceived you if he could? Why do you continually remind us of
these facts? I assure you once more that very few could find it
in them to act as you have acted this day. As for your wish to go
with Rogojin, that was simply the idea of a delirious and
suffering brain. You are still quite feverish; you ought to be in
bed, not here. You know quite well that if you had gone with
Rogojin, you would have become a washer-woman next day, rather
than stay with him. You are proud, Nastasia Philipovna, and
perhaps you have really suffered so much that you imagine
yourself to be a desperately guilty woman. You require a great
deal of petting and looking after, Nastasia Philipovna, and I
will do this. I saw your portrait this morning, and it seemed
quite a familiar face to me; it seemed to me that the portrait-face
was calling to me for help. I-I shall respect you all my
life, Nastasia Philipovna," concluded the prince, as though
suddenly recollecting himself, and blushing to think of the sort
of company before whom he had said all this.
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