community-datasets/crime_and_punish · Datasets at Hugging Face

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They began to be frightened at last at Pulcheria Alexandrovna’s strange
silence on certain subjects. She did not, for instance, complain of
getting no letters from him, though in previous years she had only lived
on the hope of letters from her beloved Rodya. This was the cause of
great uneasiness to Dounia; the idea occurred to her that her mother
suspected that there was something terrible in her son’s fate and was
afraid to ask, for fear of hearing something still more awful. In any
case, Dounia saw clearly that her mother was not in full possession of
her faculties.

It happened once or twice, however, that Pulcheria Alexandrovna gave
such a turn to the conversation that it was impossible to answer her
without mentioning where Rodya was, and on receiving unsatisfactory and
suspicious answers she became at once gloomy and silent, and this mood
lasted for a long time. Dounia saw at last that it was hard to deceive
her and came to the conclusion that it was better to be absolutely
silent on certain points; but it became more and more evident that
the poor mother suspected something terrible. Dounia remembered her
brother’s telling her that her mother had overheard her talking in her
sleep on the night after her interview with Svidrigaïlov and before the
fatal day of the confession: had not she made out something from that?
Sometimes days and even weeks of gloomy silence and tears would be
succeeded by a period of hysterical animation, and the invalid would
begin to talk almost incessantly of her son, of her hopes of his
future.... Her fancies were sometimes very strange. They humoured her,
pretended to agree with her (she saw perhaps that they were pretending),
but she still went on talking.

Five months after Raskolnikov’s confession, he was sentenced. Razumihin
and Sonia saw him in prison as often as it was possible. At last
the moment of separation came. Dounia swore to her brother that the
separation should not be for ever, Razumihin did the same. Razumihin, in
his youthful ardour, had firmly resolved to lay the foundations at least
of a secure livelihood during the next three or four years, and saving
up a certain sum, to emigrate to Siberia, a country rich in every
natural resource and in need of workers, active men and capital. There
they would settle in the town where Rodya was and all together would
begin a new life. They all wept at parting.

Raskolnikov had been very dreamy for a few days before. He asked a great
deal about his mother and was constantly anxious about her. He worried
so much about her that it alarmed Dounia. When he heard about his
mother’s illness he became very gloomy. With Sonia he was particularly
reserved all the time. With the help of the money left to her by
Svidrigaïlov, Sonia had long ago made her preparations to follow the
party of convicts in which he was despatched to Siberia. Not a word
passed between Raskolnikov and her on the subject, but both knew it
would be so. At the final leave-taking he smiled strangely at his
sister’s and Razumihin’s fervent anticipations of their happy future
together when he should come out of prison. He predicted that their
mother’s illness would soon have a fatal ending. Sonia and he at last
set off.

Two months later Dounia was married to Razumihin. It was a quiet and
sorrowful wedding; Porfiry Petrovitch and Zossimov were invited however.
During all this period Razumihin wore an air of resolute determination.
Dounia put implicit faith in his carrying out his plans and indeed she
could not but believe in him. He displayed a rare strength of will.
Among other things he began attending university lectures again in order
to take his degree. They were continually making plans for the future;
both counted on settling in Siberia within five years at least. Till
then they rested their hopes on Sonia.

Pulcheria Alexandrovna was delighted to give her blessing to Dounia’s
marriage with Razumihin; but after the marriage she became even more
melancholy and anxious. To give her pleasure Razumihin told her how
Raskolnikov had looked after the poor student and his decrepit father
and how a year ago he had been burnt and injured in rescuing two
little children from a fire. These two pieces of news excited Pulcheria
Alexandrovna’s disordered imagination almost to ecstasy. She was
continually talking about them, even entering into conversation with
strangers in the street, though Dounia always accompanied her. In public
conveyances and shops, wherever she could capture a listener, she would
begin the discourse about her son, his article, how he had helped the
student, how he had been burnt at the fire, and so on! Dounia did
not know how to restrain her. Apart from the danger of her morbid
excitement, there was the risk of someone’s recalling Raskolnikov’s name
and speaking of the recent trial. Pulcheria Alexandrovna found out the
address of the mother of the two children her son had saved and insisted
on going to see her.

At last her restlessness reached an extreme point. She would sometimes
begin to cry suddenly and was often ill and feverishly delirious. One
morning she declared that by her reckoning Rodya ought soon to be home,
that she remembered when he said good-bye to her he said that they must
expect him back in nine months. She began to prepare for his coming,
began to do up her room for him, to clean the furniture, to wash and
put up new hangings and so on. Dounia was anxious, but said nothing and
helped her to arrange the room. After a fatiguing day spent in continual
fancies, in joyful day-dreams and tears, Pulcheria Alexandrovna was
taken ill in the night and by morning she was feverish and delirious.
It was brain fever. She died within a fortnight. In her delirium she
dropped words which showed that she knew a great deal more about her
son’s terrible fate than they had supposed.

For a long time Raskolnikov did not know of his mother’s death, though
a regular correspondence had been maintained from the time he reached
Siberia. It was carried on by means of Sonia, who wrote every month
to the Razumihins and received an answer with unfailing regularity. At
first they found Sonia’s letters dry and unsatisfactory, but later on

They began to be frightened at last at Pulcheria Alexandrovna’s strange

silence on certain subjects. She did not, for instance, complain of

getting no letters from him, though in previous years she had only lived

on the hope of letters from her beloved Rodya. This was the cause of

great uneasiness to Dounia; the idea occurred to her that her mother

suspected that there was something terrible in her son’s fate and was

afraid to ask, for fear of hearing something still more awful. In any

case, Dounia saw clearly that her mother was not in full possession of

her faculties.

It happened once or twice, however, that Pulcheria Alexandrovna gave

such a turn to the conversation that it was impossible to answer her

without mentioning where Rodya was, and on receiving unsatisfactory and

suspicious answers she became at once gloomy and silent, and this mood

lasted for a long time. Dounia saw at last that it was hard to deceive

her and came to the conclusion that it was better to be absolutely

silent on certain points; but it became more and more evident that

the poor mother suspected something terrible. Dounia remembered her

brother’s telling her that her mother had overheard her talking in her

sleep on the night after her interview with Svidrigaïlov and before the

fatal day of the confession: had not she made out something from that?

Sometimes days and even weeks of gloomy silence and tears would be

succeeded by a period of hysterical animation, and the invalid would

begin to talk almost incessantly of her son, of her hopes of his

future.... Her fancies were sometimes very strange. They humoured her,

pretended to agree with her (she saw perhaps that they were pretending),

but she still went on talking.

Five months after Raskolnikov’s confession, he was sentenced. Razumihin

and Sonia saw him in prison as often as it was possible. At last

the moment of separation came. Dounia swore to her brother that the

separation should not be for ever, Razumihin did the same. Razumihin, in

his youthful ardour, had firmly resolved to lay the foundations at least

of a secure livelihood during the next three or four years, and saving

up a certain sum, to emigrate to Siberia, a country rich in every

natural resource and in need of workers, active men and capital. There

they would settle in the town where Rodya was and all together would

begin a new life. They all wept at parting.

Raskolnikov had been very dreamy for a few days before. He asked a great

deal about his mother and was constantly anxious about her. He worried

so much about her that it alarmed Dounia. When he heard about his

mother’s illness he became very gloomy. With Sonia he was particularly

reserved all the time. With the help of the money left to her by

Svidrigaïlov, Sonia had long ago made her preparations to follow the

party of convicts in which he was despatched to Siberia. Not a word

passed between Raskolnikov and her on the subject, but both knew it

would be so. At the final leave-taking he smiled strangely at his

sister’s and Razumihin’s fervent anticipations of their happy future

together when he should come out of prison. He predicted that their

mother’s illness would soon have a fatal ending. Sonia and he at last

set off.

Two months later Dounia was married to Razumihin. It was a quiet and

sorrowful wedding; Porfiry Petrovitch and Zossimov were invited however.

During all this period Razumihin wore an air of resolute determination.

Dounia put implicit faith in his carrying out his plans and indeed she

could not but believe in him. He displayed a rare strength of will.

Among other things he began attending university lectures again in order

to take his degree. They were continually making plans for the future;

both counted on settling in Siberia within five years at least. Till

then they rested their hopes on Sonia.

Pulcheria Alexandrovna was delighted to give her blessing to Dounia’s

marriage with Razumihin; but after the marriage she became even more

melancholy and anxious. To give her pleasure Razumihin told her how

Raskolnikov had looked after the poor student and his decrepit father

and how a year ago he had been burnt and injured in rescuing two

little children from a fire. These two pieces of news excited Pulcheria

Alexandrovna’s disordered imagination almost to ecstasy. She was

continually talking about them, even entering into conversation with

strangers in the street, though Dounia always accompanied her. In public

conveyances and shops, wherever she could capture a listener, she would

begin the discourse about her son, his article, how he had helped the

student, how he had been burnt at the fire, and so on! Dounia did

not know how to restrain her. Apart from the danger of her morbid

excitement, there was the risk of someone’s recalling Raskolnikov’s name

and speaking of the recent trial. Pulcheria Alexandrovna found out the

address of the mother of the two children her son had saved and insisted

on going to see her.

At last her restlessness reached an extreme point. She would sometimes

begin to cry suddenly and was often ill and feverishly delirious. One

morning she declared that by her reckoning Rodya ought soon to be home,

that she remembered when he said good-bye to her he said that they must

expect him back in nine months. She began to prepare for his coming,

began to do up her room for him, to clean the furniture, to wash and

put up new hangings and so on. Dounia was anxious, but said nothing and

helped her to arrange the room. After a fatiguing day spent in continual

fancies, in joyful day-dreams and tears, Pulcheria Alexandrovna was

taken ill in the night and by morning she was feverish and delirious.

It was brain fever. She died within a fortnight. In her delirium she

dropped words which showed that she knew a great deal more about her

son’s terrible fate than they had supposed.

For a long time Raskolnikov did not know of his mother’s death, though

a regular correspondence had been maintained from the time he reached

Siberia. It was carried on by means of Sonia, who wrote every month

to the Razumihins and received an answer with unfailing regularity. At

first they found Sonia’s letters dry and unsatisfactory, but later on