Historical fiction; Russia -- Social conditions -- 1801-1917 -- Fiction
“It is hardly an exact statement of the case,” said the prince in
reply. “You have confused your motives and ideas, as I need scarcely
say too often happens to myself. I can assure you, Keller, I reproach
myself bitterly for it sometimes. When you were talking just now I
seemed to be listening to something about myself. At times I have
imagined that all men were the same,” he continued earnestly, for he
appeared to be much interested in the conversation, “and that consoled
me in a certain degree, for a _double_ motive is a thing most difficult
to fight against. I have tried, and I know. God knows whence they
arise, these ideas that you speak of as base. I fear these double
motives more than ever just now, but I am not your judge, and in my
opinion it is going too far to give the name of baseness to it—what do
you think? You were going to employ your tears as a ruse in order to
borrow money, but you also say—in fact, you have sworn to the fact—that
independently of this your confession was made with an honourable
motive. As for the money, you want it for drink, do you not? After your
confession, that is weakness, of course; but, after all, how can anyone
give up a bad habit at a moment’s notice? It is impossible. What can we
do? It is best, I think, to leave the matter to your own conscience.
How does it seem to you?” As he concluded the prince looked curiously
at Keller; evidently this problem of double motives had often been
considered by him before.
“Well, how anybody can call you an idiot after that, is more than I can
understand!” cried the boxer.
The prince reddened slightly.
“Bourdaloue, the archbishop, would not have spared a man like me,”
Keller continued, “but you, you have judged me with humanity. To show
how grateful I am, and as a punishment, I will not accept a hundred and
fifty roubles. Give me twenty-five—that will be enough; it is all I
really need, for a fortnight at least. I will not ask you for more for
a fortnight. I should like to have given Agatha a present, but she does
not really deserve it. Oh, my dear prince, God bless you!”
At this moment Lebedeff appeared, having just arrived from Petersburg.
He frowned when he saw the twenty-five rouble note in Keller’s hand,
but the latter, having got the money, went away at once. Lebedeff began
to abuse him.
“You are unjust; I found him sincerely repentant,” observed the prince,
after listening for a time.
“What is the good of repentance like that? It is the same exactly as
mine yesterday, when I said, ‘I am base, I am base,’—words, and nothing
more!”
“Then they were only words on your part? I thought, on the contrary...”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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