Page 495 - the-idiot

afraid; I shall go away directly.’
‘What’s the matter with him? Do his fits begin like that?’
said Lizabetha Prokofievna, in a high state of alarm, ad-
dressing Colia.
‘No, no, Lizabetha Prokofievna, take no notice of me. I
am not going to have a fit. I will go away directly; but I know
I am afflicted. I was twenty-four years an invalid, you see—
the first twenty-four years of my life—so take all I do and
say as the sayings and actions of an invalid. I’m going away
directly, I really am—don’t be afraid. I am not blushing, for
I don’t think I need blush about it, need I? But I see that I
am out of place in society—society is better without me. It’s
not vanity, I assure you. I have thought over it all these last
three days, and I have made up my mind that I ought to un-
bosom myself candidly before you at the first opportunity.
There are certain things, certain great ideas, which I must
not so much as approach, as Prince S. has just reminded
me, or I shall make you all laugh. I have no sense of pro-
portion, I know; my words and gestures do not express my
ideas—they are a humiliation and abasement of the ideas,
and therefore, I have no right—and I am too sensitive. Still,
I believe I am beloved in this household, and esteemed far
more than I deserve. But I can’t help knowing that after
twenty-four years of illness there must be some trace left, so
that it is impossible for people to refrain from laughing at
me sometimes; don’t you think so?’
He seemed to pause for a reply, for some verdict, as it
were, and looked humbly around him.
All present stood rooted to the earth with amazement at

The Idiot