Dead Souls

"Your Excellency," said Murazov, "whoever the man may be whom you call a scoundrel, he is still a human being. How not defend a man if you know that he does half his evil out of coarseness and ignorance? For we do unjust things at every step, and at every moment are the cause of another's misfortune, and not even with any bad intention. You, Your Excellency, have also committed a great injustice."

"What!" the prince exclaimed in amazement, completely struck by such an unexpected turn in the talk.

Murazov paused, fell silent, as if pondering something, and finally said:

"Well, let's say for instance in the Derpennikov [That is, Tentetnikov, called Derpennikov in Gogol's early drafts.—Trans.] case."

"Afanasy Vassilyevich! A crime against the fundamental laws of the state, tantamount to the betrayal of one's country!"

"I am not justifying him. But is it fair when a youth who in his inexperience was seduced and lured by others is judged on a par with someone who was one of the instigators? The same lot fell to Derpennikov as to some Voronoy-Dryannoy;[69] but their crimes are not the same."

"For God's sake ..." the prince said with visible agitation, "tell me, do you know anything about it? I just recently wrote directly to Petersburg about alleviating his lot."

"No, Your Excellency, I'm not saying it because I know something that you don't know. Though there is indeed one circumstance that might serve in his favor, he himself would not consent because another man would suffer by it. But what I think is only that you were perhaps pleased to be in too great a hurry then. Forgive me, Your Excellency, I am judging according to my weak understanding. You have ordered me several times to speak frankly. When I was still a superior, sir, I had many workers, both bad and good . . . One also has to take a man's earlier life into account, because if you don't consider everything with equanimity, but start by yelling at him—you'll merely frighten him, and never obtain a real confession: but if you question him sympathetically, as brother to brother—he himself will speak it all out and won't even ask for leniency, and there won't be any bitterness against anyone, because he will see clearly that it is not I who am punishing him, but the law."

The prince lapsed into thought. At that moment a young official came in and stood deferentially, a portfolio in his hand. Care and travail showed on his young and still fresh face. One could see it was not for nothing that he served as a special agent. He belonged to the number of those few who do their clerical work con amove. Burning neither with ambition, nor with the desire for gain, nor with the imitation of others, he worked only because he was convinced that he had to be there and nowhere else, that life had been given him for that. To pursue, to analyze, and, having grasped all the threads of the most complicated case, to explain it—this was the thing for him. The labors, the efforts, the sleepless nights were abundantly rewarded if the case finally began to clarify itself before him, and the hidden causes revealed themselves, so that he felt he could convey the whole of it in a few words, clearly and distinctly, in such fashion that it would be obvious and understandable to anyone. It could be said that a student does not rejoice so much when some very difficult phrase and the true meaning of a great writer's thought are revealed to him, as he rejoiced when a very tangled case untangled itself before him. And yet. . . [Part of the manuscript is missing. The text continues on a new page, in midsentence.—Trans.]

"... by grain in those places where there is famine; I know these things better than the officials do: I'll look personally into who needs what. And, with Your Excellency's permission, I'll also talk a bit with the Old Believers. They'll be more willing to speak with their own kind, with simple folk. So, God knows, maybe I can help settle things peaceably with them. And I won't take any money from you, by God, it's shameful to think of one's own gain at a time like this, when people are dying of hunger. I have supplies of ready grain; I've just sent to Siberia, and by next summer they'll deliver more."

"God alone can reward you for such service, Afanasy Vassilyevich. And I will not say a single word, because—as you can feel yourself—no word is adequate here. But let me say one thing about your request. Tell me yourself: do I have the right to overlook this affair, and will it be just, will it be honest on my part to forgive the scoundrels?"