Fyodor Dostoevsky: The Idiot

PART III 7. CHAPTER VII. (continued)

"Capital, that's much better!" cried Lebedeff, and seizing the key he made off in haste.

Colia stopped a moment as though he wished to say something; but Lebedeff dragged him away.

Hippolyte looked around at the laughing guests. The prince observed that his teeth were chattering as though in a violent attack of ague.

"What brutes they all are!" he whispered to the prince. Whenever he addressed him he lowered his voice.

"Let them alone, you're too weak now--"

Yes, directly; I'll go away directly. I'll--"

Suddenly he embraced Muishkin.

"Perhaps you think I am mad, eh?" he asked him, laughing very strangely.

"No, but you--"

"Directly, directly! Stand still a moment, I wish to look in your eyes; don't speak--stand so--let me look at you! I am bidding farewell to mankind."

He stood so for ten seconds, gazing at the prince, motionless, deadly pale, his temples wet with perspiration; he held the prince's hand in a strange grip, as though afraid to let him go.

"Hippolyte, Hippolyte, what is the matter with you?" cried Muishkin.

"Directly! There, that's enough. I'll lie down directly. I must drink to the sun's health. I wish to--I insist upon it! Let go!"

He seized a glass from the table, broke away from the prince, and in a moment had reached the terrace steps.

The prince made after him, but it so happened that at this moment Evgenie Pavlovitch stretched out his hand to say good-night. The next instant there was a general outcry, and then followed a few moments of indescribable excitement.