Raskolnikov
Please do sit down and feel at home.
(‘a parte)
That’s strange.
May be my very end is near,
We’re here face to face,
And still I have no fear.
Why is he silent? Let him speak at last!
Porphiry Petrovitch
Oh, those sigarettes! I can’t quit, though I must.
Would it be better if I’ve taken to the sup?..
In fact, I’m here to clear something up.
I didn’t like the way we last parted, you see.
For we are both gentlemen, aren’t we?
I like you. You’re noble, you’ve got pride,
You’ve got a kind heart that you’re trying to hide.
Yet you’re oppressed, and impatient, and all.
And if you were guilty, I knew, you would call.
That man’s confession was right on time,
Bare psychology can’t lay bare a crime.
But still I think something is out of joint…
Raskolnikov
I beg your pardon, I can’t see the point.
I thought you were sure about Mikolka.
Porphiry Petrovitch
No!
That fool, that gutter artisan, that child? No go.
He is just longing to become a martyr, nothing more.
He’s not the kind of a man I’m looking for.
Raskolnikov
And what is that, if not Mikolka, then?..
Porphiry Petrovitch
Quite different a person, my young man:
Quite a strange murderer, who acts on a whim,
Who kills to get gold but takes nothing with him,
It was but a farthing he really took.
It is an assassin who kills by the book.
It is something new, not a commonplace crime,
Rather an outbreak of that plague of our time -
Something is rotten in the hearts of our youth,
Who make up these theories and call them the truth.
He not just came there once to kill -
Then he came back to have extra thrill.
And after all that some dark angel he plays
With a mask of contempt for us all on his face.
And you say “Mikolka”!.. Oh, dear me.
Raskolnikov
So, what do you think, who could it be?
Porphiry Petrovitch
You ask strange questions, you really do.
It was you, dear sir.
Who else but you?
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Утрясем, товарищи-соавторы.
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