extraordinary and fascinating originality, by some sort of power, and enchanted him on occasion even now, when all his former expectations with regard to Nastasya Filippovna had fallen through.
The prince was received by a maid (Nastasya Filippovna always kept female servants), who, to his surprise, listened to his request to be announced without any perplexity. Neither his dirty boots, nor his broad-brimmed hat, nor his sleeveless cloak, nor his embarrassed look caused the slightest hesitation in her. She helped him off with his cloak, asked him to wait in the front hall, and went at once to announce him.
The company that had gathered at Nastasya Filippovna's consisted of her most usual and habitual acquaintances. There were even rather few people compared with previous years' gatherings on the same day. Present first and foremost were Afanasy Ivanovich Totsky and Ivan Fyodorovich Epanchin; both were amiable, but both were in some repressed anxiety on account of the poorly concealed expectation of the promised announcement about Ganya. Besides them, naturally, there was Ganya as well—also very gloomy, very pensive, and even almost totally "unamiable"—who for the most part stood to one side, separately, and kept silent. He had not ventured to bring Varya, but Nastasya Filippovna made no mention of her; instead, as soon as she greeted Ganya, she reminded him of the scene with the prince. The general, who had not heard about it yet, began to show interest. Then Ganya drily, restrainedly, but with perfect frankness, told everything that had happened earlier, and how he had already gone to the prince to apologize. With that he warmly voiced his opinion that the prince, quite strangely and for God knows what reason, was called an idiot, that he thought completely the opposite of him, and that he was most certainly a man who kept his own counsel. Nastasya Filippovna listened to this opinion with great attention and followed Ganya curiously, but the conversation immediately switched to Rogozhin, who had taken such a major part in that day's story and in whom Afanasy Ivanovich and Ivan Fyodorovich also began to take an extremely curious interest. It turned out that specific information about Rogozhin could be supplied by Ptitsyn, who had been hard at work on his business until nearly nine o'clock that evening. Rogozhin had insisted with all his might that he should get hold of a hundred thousand roubles that same day. "True, he was drunk," Ptitsyn observed with that, "but, difficult as it is, it seems he'll get the hundred thousand, only I don't know if
it will be today and the whole of it. Many people are working on it—Kinder, Trepalov, Biskup; he's offering any interest they like, though, of course, it's all from drink and in his initial joy . . ." Ptitsyn concluded. All this news was received with a somewhat gloomy interest. Nastasya Filippovna was silent, obviously unwilling to speak her mind; Ganya also. General Epanchin was almost more worried than anyone else: the pearls he had already presented earlier in the day had been received with a much too cool politeness, and even with a sort of special smile. Ferdyshchenko alone of all the guests was in jolly and festive spirits, and guffawed loudly, sometimes for no known reason, only because he had adopted for himself the role of buffoon. Afanasy Ivanovich himself, reputed to be a fine and elegant talker, who on previous occasions had presided over the conversation at these parties, was obviously in low spirits and even in some sort of perplexity that was quite unlike him. The remainder of the guests, of whom, incidentally, there were not many (one pathetic little old schoolteacher, invited for God knows what purpose, some unknown and very young man, who was terribly timid and kept silent all the time, a sprightly lady of about forty, an actress, and one extremely beautiful, extremely well and expensively dressed, and extraordinarily taciturn young lady), were not only unable to enliven the conversation especially, but sometimes simply did not know what to talk about.
Thus, the prince's appearance was even opportune. When he was announced, it caused bewilderment and a few strange smiles, especially as it was evident from Nastasya Filippovna's surprised look that she had never thought of inviting him. But after her surprise, Nastasya Filippovna suddenly showed such pleasure that the majority prepared at once to meet the unexpected guest with laughter and merriment.
"I suppose it comes of his innocence," Ivan Fyodorovich Epanchin concluded, "and to encourage such inclinations is in any case rather dangerous, but at the present moment it's really not bad that he has decided to come, though in such an original manner. He may even amuse us a bit, at least so far as I can judge about him."
"The more so as he's invited himself!" Ferdyshchenko put in at once.
"So what of it?" the general, who hated Ferdyshchenko, asked drily.
"So he'll have to pay at the door," the latter explained.
"Well, all the same, sir, Prince Myshkin isn't Ferdyshchenko,"
the general could not help himself, having been so far unable to accept the thought of being in the same company and on an equal footing with Ferdyshchenko.
"Hey, General, spare Ferdyshchenko," the latter said, grinning. "I'm here under special dispensation."
"What is this special dispensation of yours?"
"Last time I had the honor of explaining it to the company in detail; I'll repeat it once more for Your Excellency. Kindly note, Your Excellency: everybody else is witty, but I am not. To make up for it, I asked permission to speak the truth, since everybody knows that only those who are not witty speak the truth. Besides, I'm a very vindictive man, and that's also because I'm not witty. I humbly bear with every offense, until the offender's first misstep; at his first misstep I remember at once and at once take my revenge in some way—I kick, as Ivan Petrovich Ptitsyn said of me, a man who, of course, never kicks anybody. Do you know Krylov's fable, Your Excellency: 'The Lion and the Ass'? 39Well, that's you and me both, it was written about us."