CHAPTER V
Lebeziatnikov looked perturbed.
"I've come to you, Sofya Semyonovna," he began. "Excuse me... I thoughtI should find you," he said, addressing Raskolnikov suddenly, "that is,I didn't mean anything... of that sort... But I just thought... KaterinaIvanovna has gone out of her mind," he blurted out suddenly, turningfrom Raskolnikov to Sonia.
Sonia screamed.
"At least it seems so. But... we don't know what to do, you see! Shecame back--she seems to have been turned out somewhere, perhapsbeaten.... So it seems at least,... She had run to your father's formerchief, she didn't find him at home: he was dining at some othergeneral's.... Only fancy, she rushed off there, to the other general's,and, imagine, she was so persistent that she managed to get the chief tosee her, had him fetched out from dinner, it seems. You can imagine whathappened. She was turned out, of course; but, according to her ownstory, she abused him and threw something at him. One may well believeit.... How it is she wasn't taken up, I can't understand! Now she istelling everyone, including Amalia Ivanovna; but it's difficult tounderstand her, she is screaming and flinging herself about.... Oh yes,she shouts that since everyone has abandoned her, she will take thechildren and go into the street with a barrel-organ, and the childrenwill sing and dance, and she too, and collect money, and will go everyday under the general's window... 'to let everyone see well-bornchildren, whose father was an official, begging in the street.' Shekeeps beating the children and they are all crying. She is teaching Lidato sing 'My Village,' the boy to dance, Polenka the same. She is tearingup all the clothes, and making them little caps like actors; she meansto carry a tin basin and make it tinkle, instead of music.... She won'tlisten to anything.... Imagine the state of things! It's beyondanything!"
Lebeziatnikov would have gone on, but Sonia, who had heard him almostbreathless, snatched up her cloak and hat, and ran out of the room,putting on her things as she went. Raskolnikov followed her andLebeziatnikov came after him.
"She has certainly gone mad!" he said to Raskolnikov, as they went outinto the street. "I didn't want to frighten Sofya Semyonovna, so I said'it seemed like it,' but there isn't a doubt of it. They say that inconsumption the tubercles sometimes occur in the brain; it's a pity Iknow nothing of medicine. I did try to persuade her, but she wouldn'tlisten."
"Did you talk to her about the tubercles?"
"Not precisely of the tubercles. Besides, she wouldn't have understood!But what I say is, that if you convince a person logically that hehas nothing to cry about, he'll stop crying. That's clear. Is it yourconviction that he won't?"
"Life would be too easy if it were so," answered Raskolnikov.
"Excuse me, excuse me; of course it would be rather difficult forKaterina Ivanovna to understand, but do you know that in Paris they havebeen conducting serious experiments as to the possibility of curing theinsane, simply by logical argument? One professor there, a scientificman of standing, lately dead, believed in the possibility of suchtreatment. His idea was that there's nothing really wrong with thephysical organism of the insane, and that insanity is, so to say, alogical mistake, an error of judgment, an incorrect view of things. Hegradually showed the madman his error and, would you believe it, theysay he was successful? But as he made use of douches too, how farsuccess was due to that treatment remains uncertain.... So it seems atleast."
Raskolnikov had long ceased to listen. Reaching the house where helived, he nodded to Lebeziatnikov and went in at the gate. Lebeziatnikovwoke up with a start, looked about him and hurried on.
Raskolnikov went into his little room and stood still in the middleof it. Why had he come back here? He looked at the yellow and tatteredpaper, at the dust, at his sofa.... From the yard came a loud continuousknocking; someone seemed to be hammering... He went to the window, roseon tiptoe and looked out into the yard for a long time with an air ofabsorbed attention. But the yard was empty and he could not see who washammering. In the house on the left he saw some open windows; on thewindow-sills were pots of sickly-looking geraniums. Linen was hung outof the windows... He knew it all by heart. He turned away and sat downon the sofa.
Never, never had he felt himself so fearfully alone!
Yes, he felt once more that he would perhaps come to hate Sonia, nowthat he had made her more miserable.
"Why had he gone to her to beg for her tears? What need had he to poisonher life? Oh, the meanness of it!"
"I will remain alone," he said resolutely, "and she shall not come tothe prison!"
Five minutes later he raised his head with a strange smile. That was astrange thought.
"Perhaps it really would be better in Siberia," he thought suddenly.
He could not have said how long he sat there with vague thoughts surgingthrough his mind. All at once the door opened and Dounia came in. Atfirst she stood still and looked at him from the doorway, just as hehad done at Sonia; then she came in and sat down in the same placeas yesterday, on the chair facing him. He looked silently and almostvacantly at her.
"Don't be angry, brother; I've only come for one minute," said Dounia.
Her face looked thoughtful but not stern. Her eyes were bright and soft.He saw that she too had come to him with love.
"Brother, now I know all, _all_. Dmitri Prokofitch has explained andtold me everything. They are worrying and persecuting you through astupid and contemptible suspicion.... Dmitri Prokofitch told me thatthere is no danger, and that you are wrong in looking upon it with suchhorror. I don't think so, and I fully understand how indignant you mustbe, and that that indignation may have a permanent effect on you. That'swhat I am afraid of. As for your cutting yourself off from us, I don'tjudge you, I don't venture to judge you, and forgive me for havingblamed you for it. I feel that I too, if I had so great a trouble,should keep away from everyone. I shall tell mother nothing _of this_,but I shall talk about you continually and shall tell her from you thatyou will come very soon. Don't worry about her; _I_ will set her mind atrest; but don't you try her too much--come once at least; remember thatshe is your mother. And now I have come simply to say" (Dounia beganto get up) "that if you should need me or should need... all my life oranything... call me, and I'll come. Good-bye!"
She turned abruptly and went towards the door.
"Dounia!" Raskolnikov stopped her and went towards her. "That Razumihin,Dmitri Prokofitch, is a very good fellow."
Dounia flushed slightly.
"Well?" she asked, waiting a moment.
"He is competent, hardworking, honest and capable of real love....Good-bye, Dounia."
Dounia flushed crimson, then suddenly she took alarm.
"But what does it mean, brother? Are we really parting for ever thatyou... give me such a parting message?"
"Never mind.... Good-bye."
He turned away, and walked to the window. She stood a moment, looked athim uneasily, and went out troubled.
No, he was not cold to her. There was an instant (the very last one)when he had longed to take her in his arms and _say good-bye_ to her,and even _to tell_ her, but he had not dared even to touch her hand.
"Afterwards she may shudder when she remembers that I embraced her, andwill feel that I stole her kiss."
"And would _she_ stand that test?" he went on a few minutes later tohimself. "No, she wouldn't; girls like that can't stand things! Theynever do."
And he thought of Sonia.
There was a breath of fresh air from the window. The daylight wasfading. He took up his cap and went out.
He could not, of course, and would not consider how ill he was. But allthis continual anxiety and agony of mind could not but affect him. Andif he were not lying in high fever it was perhaps just because thiscontinual inner strain helped to keep him on his legs and in possessionof his faculties. But this artificial excitement could not last long.
He wandered aimlessly. The sun was setting. A special form of misery hadbegun to oppress him of late. There was nothing poignant, nothing acuteabout it; but there was a feelin
g of permanence, of eternity about it;it brought a foretaste of hopeless years of this cold leaden misery, aforetaste of an eternity "on a square yard of space." Towards eveningthis sensation usually began to weigh on him more heavily.
"With this idiotic, purely physical weakness, depending on the sunset orsomething, one can't help doing something stupid! You'll go to Dounia,as well as to Sonia," he muttered bitterly.
He heard his name called. He looked round. Lebeziatnikov rushed up tohim.
"Only fancy, I've been to your room looking for you. Only fancy, she'scarried out her plan, and taken away the children. Sofya Semyonovna andI have had a job to find them. She is rapping on a frying-pan and makingthe children dance. The children are crying. They keep stopping at thecross-roads and in front of shops; there's a crowd of fools runningafter them. Come along!"
"And Sonia?" Raskolnikov asked anxiously, hurrying after Lebeziatnikov.
"Simply frantic. That is, it's not Sofya Semyonovna's frantic, butKaterina Ivanovna, though Sofya Semyonova's frantic too. But KaterinaIvanovna is absolutely frantic. I tell you she is quite mad. They'll betaken to the police. You can fancy what an effect that will have....They are on the canal bank, near the bridge now, not far from SofyaSemyonovna's, quite close."
On the canal bank near the bridge and not two houses away from the onewhere Sonia lodged, there was a crowd of people, consisting principallyof gutter children. The hoarse broken voice of Katerina Ivanovna couldbe heard from the bridge, and it certainly was a strange spectaclelikely to attract a street crowd. Katerina Ivanovna in her old dresswith the green shawl, wearing a torn straw hat, crushed in a hideous wayon one side, was really frantic. She was exhausted and breathless. Herwasted consumptive face looked more suffering than ever, and indeed outof doors in the sunshine a consumptive always looks worse than at home.But her excitement did not flag, and every moment her irritation grewmore intense. She rushed at the children, shouted at them, coaxedthem, told them before the crowd how to dance and what to sing, beganexplaining to them why it was necessary, and driven to desperation bytheir not understanding, beat them.... Then she would make a rush at thecrowd; if she noticed any decently dressed person stopping to look, sheimmediately appealed to him to see what these children "from a genteel,one may say aristocratic, house" had been brought to. If she heardlaughter or jeering in the crowd, she would rush at once at the scoffersand begin squabbling with them. Some people laughed, others shook theirheads, but everyone felt curious at the sight of the madwoman with thefrightened children. The frying-pan of which Lebeziatnikov had spokenwas not there, at least Raskolnikov did not see it. But instead ofrapping on the pan, Katerina Ivanovna began clapping her wasted hands,when she made Lida and Kolya dance and Polenka sing. She too joined inthe singing, but broke down at the second note with a fearful cough,which made her curse in despair and even shed tears. What made her mostfurious was the weeping and terror of Kolya and Lida. Some effort hadbeen made to dress the children up as street singers are dressed. Theboy had on a turban made of something red and white to look like a Turk.There had been no costume for Lida; she simply had a red knitted cap,or rather a night cap that had belonged to Marmeladov, decorated witha broken piece of white ostrich feather, which had been KaterinaIvanovna's grandmother's and had been preserved as a family possession.Polenka was in her everyday dress; she looked in timid perplexity at hermother, and kept at her side, hiding her tears. She dimly realised hermother's condition, and looked uneasily about her. She was terriblyfrightened of the street and the crowd. Sonia followed KaterinaIvanovna, weeping and beseeching her to return home, but KaterinaIvanovna was not to be persuaded.
"Leave off, Sonia, leave off," she shouted, speaking fast, panting andcoughing. "You don't know what you ask; you are like a child! I'vetold you before that I am not coming back to that drunken German. Leteveryone, let all Petersburg see the children begging in the streets,though their father was an honourable man who served all his life intruth and fidelity, and one may say died in the service." (KaterinaIvanovna had by now invented this fantastic story and thoroughlybelieved it.) "Let that wretch of a general see it! And you are silly,Sonia: what have we to eat? Tell me that. We have worried you enough, Iwon't go on so! Ah, Rodion Romanovitch, is that you?" she cried, seeingRaskolnikov and rushing up to him. "Explain to this silly girl, please,that nothing better could be done! Even organ-grinders earn theirliving, and everyone will see at once that we are different, that we arean honourable and bereaved family reduced to beggary. And that generalwill lose his post, you'll see! We shall perform under his windows everyday, and if the Tsar drives by, I'll fall on my knees, put the childrenbefore me, show them to him, and say 'Defend us father.' He is thefather of the fatherless, he is merciful, he'll protect us, you'llsee, and that wretch of a general.... Lida, _tenez vous droite_! Kolya,you'll dance again. Why are you whimpering? Whimpering again! Whatare you afraid of, stupid? Goodness, what am I to do with them, RodionRomanovitch? If you only knew how stupid they are! What's one to do withsuch children?"
And she, almost crying herself--which did not stop her uninterrupted,rapid flow of talk--pointed to the crying children. Raskolnikov triedto persuade her to go home, and even said, hoping to work on her vanity,that it was unseemly for her to be wandering about the streets likean organ-grinder, as she was intending to become the principal of aboarding-school.
"A boarding-school, ha-ha-ha! A castle in the air," cried KaterinaIvanovna, her laugh ending in a cough. "No, Rodion Romanovitch, thatdream is over! All have forsaken us!... And that general.... You know,Rodion Romanovitch, I threw an inkpot at him--it happened to be standingin the waiting-room by the paper where you sign your name. I wrote myname, threw it at him and ran away. Oh, the scoundrels, the scoundrels!But enough of them, now I'll provide for the children myself, I won'tbow down to anybody! She has had to bear enough for us!" she pointedto Sonia. "Polenka, how much have you got? Show me! What, only twofarthings! Oh, the mean wretches! They give us nothing, only run afterus, putting their tongues out. There, what is that blockhead laughingat?" (She pointed to a man in the crowd.) "It's all because Kolya hereis so stupid; I have such a bother with him. What do you want, Polenka?Tell me in French, _parlez-moi francais_. Why, I've taught you, you knowsome phrases. Else how are you to show that you are of good family, wellbrought-up children, and not at all like other organ-grinders? We aren'tgoing to have a Punch and Judy show in the street, but to sing a genteelsong.... Ah, yes,... What are we to sing? You keep putting me out,but we... you see, we are standing here, Rodion Romanovitch, to findsomething to sing and get money, something Kolya can dance to.... For,as you can fancy, our performance is all impromptu.... We must talk itover and rehearse it all thoroughly, and then we shall go to Nevsky,where there are far more people of good society, and we shall be noticedat once. Lida knows 'My Village' only, nothing but 'My Village,' andeveryone sings that. We must sing something far more genteel.... Well,have you thought of anything, Polenka? If only you'd help your mother!My memory's quite gone, or I should have thought of something. We reallycan't sing 'An Hussar.' Ah, let us sing in French, 'Cinq sous,' I havetaught it you, I have taught it you. And as it is in French, people willsee at once that you are children of good family, and that will be muchmore touching.... You might sing 'Marlborough s'en va-t-en guerre,'for that's quite a child's song and is sung as a lullaby in all thearistocratic houses.
"_Marlborough s'en va-t-en guerre Ne sait quand reviendra_..."she began singing. "But no, better sing 'Cinq sous.' Now, Kolya, yourhands on your hips, make haste, and you, Lida, keep turning the otherway, and Polenka and I will sing and clap our hands!
"_Cinq sous, cinq sous Pour monter notre menage_."
(Cough-cough-cough!) "Set your dress straight, Polenka, it's slippeddown on your shoulders," she observed, panting from coughing. "Now it'sparticularly necessary to behave nicely and genteelly, that all maysee that you are well-born children. I said at the time that the bodiceshould be cut longer, and made of two widths. It was your fault, Sonia,wit
h your advice to make it shorter, and now you see the child is quitedeformed by it.... Why, you're all crying again! What's the matter,stupids? Come, Kolya, begin. Make haste, make haste! Oh, what anunbearable child!
"Cinq sous, cinq sous.
"A policeman again! What do you want?"
A policeman was indeed forcing his way through the crowd. But at thatmoment a gentleman in civilian uniform and an overcoat--a solid-lookingofficial of about fifty with a decoration on his neck (which delightedKaterina Ivanovna and had its effect on the policeman)--approached andwithout a word handed her a green three-rouble note. His face worea look of genuine sympathy. Katerina Ivanovna took it and gave him apolite, even ceremonious, bow.
"I thank you, honoured sir," she began loftily. "The causes that haveinduced us (take the money, Polenka: you see there are generous andhonourable people who are ready to help a poor gentlewoman in distress).You see, honoured sir, these orphans of good family--I might even say ofaristocratic connections--and that wretch of a general sat eatinggrouse... and stamped at my disturbing him. 'Your excellency,' I said,'protect the orphans, for you knew my late husband, Semyon Zaharovitch,and on the very day of his death the basest of scoundrels slandered hisonly daughter.'... That policeman again! Protect me," she cried to theofficial. "Why is that policeman edging up to me? We have only just runaway from one of them. What do you want, fool?"
"It's forbidden in the streets. You mustn't make a disturbance."
"It's you're making a disturbance. It's just the same as if I weregrinding an organ. What business is it of yours?"
"You have to get a licence for an organ, and you haven't got one, and inthat way you collect a crowd. Where do you lodge?"
"What, a license?" wailed Katerina Ivanovna. "I buried my husbandto-day. What need of a license?"
"Calm yourself, madam, calm yourself," began the official. "Come along;I will escort you.... This is no place for you in the crowd. You areill."
"Honoured sir, honoured sir, you don't know," screamed KaterinaIvanovna. "We are going to the Nevsky.... Sonia, Sonia! Where is she?She is crying too! What's the matter with you all? Kolya, Lida, whereare you going?" she cried suddenly in alarm. "Oh, silly children! Kolya,Lida, where are they off to?..."
Kolya and Lida, scared out of their wits by the crowd, and theirmother's mad pranks, suddenly seized each other by the hand, and ran offat the sight of the policeman who wanted to take them away somewhere.Weeping and wailing, poor Katerina Ivanovna ran after them. She wasa piteous and unseemly spectacle, as she ran, weeping and panting forbreath. Sonia and Polenka rushed after them.
"Bring them back, bring them back, Sonia! Oh stupid, ungratefulchildren!... Polenka! catch them.... It's for your sakes I..."
She stumbled as she ran and fell down.
"She's cut herself, she's bleeding! Oh, dear!" cried Sonia, bending overher.
All ran up and crowded around. Raskolnikov and Lebeziatnikov were thefirst at her side, the official too hastened up, and behind him thepoliceman who muttered, "Bother!" with a gesture of impatience, feelingthat the job was going to be a troublesome one.
"Pass on! Pass on!" he said to the crowd that pressed forward.
"She's dying," someone shouted.
"She's gone out of her mind," said another.
"Lord have mercy upon us," said a woman, crossing herself. "Have theycaught the little girl and the boy? They're being brought back, theelder one's got them.... Ah, the naughty imps!"
When they examined Katerina Ivanovna carefully, they saw that she hadnot cut herself against a stone, as Sonia thought, but that the bloodthat stained the pavement red was from her chest.
"I've seen that before," muttered the official to Raskolnikov andLebeziatnikov; "that's consumption; the blood flows and chokes thepatient. I saw the same thing with a relative of my own not long ago...nearly a pint of blood, all in a minute.... What's to be done though?She is dying."
"This way, this way, to my room!" Sonia implored. "I live here!... See,that house, the second from here.... Come to me, make haste," she turnedfrom one to the other. "Send for the doctor! Oh, dear!"
Thanks to the official's efforts, this plan was adopted, the policemaneven helping to carry Katerina Ivanovna. She was carried to Sonia'sroom, almost unconscious, and laid on the bed. The blood was stillflowing, but she seemed to be coming to herself. Raskolnikov,Lebeziatnikov, and the official accompanied Sonia into the room and werefollowed by the policeman, who first drove back the crowd which followedto the very door. Polenka came in holding Kolya and Lida, whowere trembling and weeping. Several persons came in too from theKapernaumovs' room; the landlord, a lame one-eyed man of strangeappearance with whiskers and hair that stood up like a brush, hiswife, a woman with an everlastingly scared expression, and severalopen-mouthed children with wonder-struck faces. Among these,Svidrigailov suddenly made his appearance. Raskolnikov looked at himwith surprise, not understanding where he had come from and not havingnoticed him in the crowd. A doctor and priest wore spoken of. Theofficial whispered to Raskolnikov that he thought it was too late nowfor the doctor, but he ordered him to be sent for. Kapernaumov ranhimself.
Meanwhile Katerina Ivanovna had regained her breath. The bleeding ceasedfor a time. She looked with sick but intent and penetrating eyes atSonia, who stood pale and trembling, wiping the sweat from her brow witha handkerchief. At last she asked to be raised. They sat her up on thebed, supporting her on both sides.
"Where are the children?" she said in a faint voice. "You've broughtthem, Polenka? Oh the sillies! Why did you run away.... Och!"
Once more her parched lips were covered with blood. She moved her eyes,looking about her.
"So that's how you live, Sonia! Never once have I been in your room."
She looked at her with a face of suffering.
"We have been your ruin, Sonia. Polenka, Lida, Kolya, come here! Well,here they are, Sonia, take them all! I hand them over to you, I've hadenough! The ball is over." (Cough!) "Lay me down, let me die in peace."
They laid her back on the pillow.
"What, the priest? I don't want him. You haven't got a rouble to spare.I have no sins. God must forgive me without that. He knows how I havesuffered.... And if He won't forgive me, I don't care!"
She sank more and more into uneasy delirium. At times she shuddered,turned her eyes from side to side, recognised everyone for a minute,but at once sank into delirium again. Her breathing was hoarse anddifficult, there was a sort of rattle in her throat.
"I said to him, your excellency," she ejaculated, gasping after eachword. "That Amalia Ludwigovna, ah! Lida, Kolya, hands on your hips,make haste! _Glissez, glissez! pas de basque!_ Tap with your heels, be agraceful child!
"_Du hast Diamanten und Perlen_
"What next? That's the thing to sing.
"_Du hast die schonsten Augen Madchen, was willst du mehr?_
"What an idea! _Was willst du mehr?_ What things the fool invents! Ah,yes!
"In the heat of midday in the vale of Dagestan.
"Ah, how I loved it! I loved that song to distraction, Polenka! Yourfather, you know, used to sing it when we were engaged.... Oh thosedays! Oh that's the thing for us to sing! How does it go? I'veforgotten. Remind me! How was it?"
She was violently excited and tried to sit up. At last, in a horriblyhoarse, broken voice, she began, shrieking and gasping at every word,with a look of growing terror.
"In the heat of midday!... in the vale!... of Dagestan!... With lead inmy breast!..."
"Your excellency!" she wailed suddenly with a heart-rending scream anda flood of tears, "protect the orphans! You have been their father'sguest... one may say aristocratic...." She started, regainingconsciousness, and gazed at all with a sort of terror, but at oncerecognised Sonia.
"Sonia, Sonia!" she articulated softly and caressingly, as thoughsurprised to find her there. "Sonia darling, are you here, too?"
They lifted her up again.
"Enough! It's over! Farewell, poor thing! I am done for! I
am broken!"she cried with vindictive despair, and her head fell heavily back on thepillow.
She sank into unconsciousness again, but this time it did not last long.Her pale, yellow, wasted face dropped back, her mouth fell open, her legmoved convulsively, she gave a deep, deep sigh and died.
Sonia fell upon her, flung her arms about her, and remained motionlesswith her head pressed to the dead woman's wasted bosom. Polenka threwherself at her mother's feet, kissing them and weeping violently. ThoughKolya and Lida did not understand what had happened, they had a feelingthat it was something terrible; they put their hands on each other'slittle shoulders, stared straight at one another and both at once openedtheir mouths and began screaming. They were both still in their fancydress; one in a turban, the other in the cap with the ostrich feather.
And how did "the certificate of merit" come to be on the bed besideKaterina Ivanovna? It lay there by the pillow; Raskolnikov saw it.
He walked away to the window. Lebeziatnikov skipped up to him.
"She is dead," he said.
"Rodion Romanovitch, I must have two words with you," said Svidrigailov,coming up to them.
Lebeziatnikov at once made room for him and delicately withdrew.Svidrigailov drew Raskolnikov further away.
"I will undertake all the arrangements, the funeral and that. You knowit's a question of money and, as I told you, I have plenty to spare. Iwill put those two little ones and Polenka into some good orphan asylum,and I will settle fifteen hundred roubles to be paid to each on comingof age, so that Sofya Semyonovna need have no anxiety about them. And Iwill pull her out of the mud too, for she is a good girl, isn't she? Sotell Avdotya Romanovna that that is how I am spending her ten thousand."
"What is your motive for such benevolence?" asked Raskolnikov.
"Ah! you sceptical person!" laughed Svidrigailov. "I told you I had noneed of that money. Won't you admit that it's simply done from humanity?She wasn't 'a louse,' you know" (he pointed to the corner where thedead woman lay), "was she, like some old pawnbroker woman? Come, you'llagree, is Luzhin to go on living, and doing wicked things or is she todie? And if I didn't help them, Polenka would go the same way."
He said this with an air of a sort of gay winking slyness, keeping hiseyes fixed on Raskolnikov, who turned white and cold, hearing his ownphrases, spoken to Sonia. He quickly stepped back and looked wildly atSvidrigailov.
"How do you know?" he whispered, hardly able to breathe.
"Why, I lodge here at Madame Resslich's, the other side of the wall.Here is Kapernaumov, and there lives Madame Resslich, an old and devotedfriend of mine. I am a neighbour."
"You?"
"Yes," continued Svidrigailov, shaking with laughter. "I assure youon my honour, dear Rodion Romanovitch, that you have interested meenormously. I told you we should become friends, I foretold it. Well,here we have. And you will see what an accommodating person I am. You'llsee that you can get on with me!"
PART VI