Đây có lẽ là một trong những đoạn miêu tả về cái chết một cách quánh đặc nhất.
"Rogojin, where is Nastasia Philipovna?" said the prince, suddenly rising from his seat. He was quaking in all his limbs, and his words came in a scarcely audible whisper. Rogojin rose also.
"There," he whispered, nodding his head towards the curtain.
"Asleep?" whispered the prince.
Rogojin looked intently at him again, as before.
"Let's go in--but you mustn't--well--let's go in."
He lifted the curtain, paused--and turned to the prince. "Go in," he said, motioning him to pass behind the curtain. Muishkin went in.
It's so dark," he said.
"You can see quite enough," muttered Rogojin.
"I can just see there's a bed--"
"Go nearer," suggested Rogojin, softly.
The prince took a step forward--then another--and paused. He stood and stared for a minute or two.
Neither of the men spoke a word while at the bedside. The prince's heart beat so loud that its knocking seemed to be distinctly audible in the deathly silence.
But now his eyes had become so far accustomed to the darkness that he could distinguish the whole of the bed. Someone was asleep upon it--in an absolutely motionless sleep. Not the slightest movement was perceptible, not the faintest breathing could be heard. The sleeper was covered with a white sheet; the outline of the limbs was hardly distinguishable. He could only just make out that a human being lay outstretched there.
All around, on the bed, on a chair beside it, on the floor, were scattered the different portions of a magnificent white silk dress, bits of lace, ribbons and flowers. On a small table at the bedside glittered a mass of diamonds, torn off and thrown down anyhow. From under a heap of lace at the end of the bed peeped a small white foot, which looked as though it had been chiselled out of marble; it was terribly still.
The prince gazed and gazed, and felt that the more he gazed the more death-like became the silence. Suddenly a fly awoke somewhere, buzzed across the room, and settled on the pillow. The prince shuddered.
"Let's go," said Rogojin, touching his shoulder. They left the alcove and sat down in the two chairs they had occupied before, opposite to one another. The prince trembled more and more violently, and never took his questioning eyes off Rogojin's face.
"I see you are shuddering, Lef Nicolaievitch," said the latter, at length, "almost as you did once in Moscow, before your fit; don't you remember? I don't know what I shall do with you--"
The prince bent forward to listen, putting all the strain he could muster upon his understanding in order to take in what Rogojin said, and continuing to gaze at the latter's face.
"Was it you?" he muttered, at last, motioning with his head towards the curtain.
"Yes, it was I," whispered Rogojin, looking down.
Neither spoke for five minutes.
"Because, you know," Rogojin recommenced, as though continuing a former sentence, "if you were ill now, or had a fit, or screamed, or anything, they might hear it in the yard, or even in the street, and guess that someone was passing the night in the house. They would all come and knock and want to come in, because they know I am not at home. I didn't light a candle for the same reason. When I am not here--for two or three days at a time, now and then--no one comes in to tidy the house or anything; those are my orders. So that I want them to not know we are spending the night here--"
"Wait," interrupted the prince. "I asked both the porter and the woman whether Nastasia Philipovna had spent last night in the house; so they knew--"
"I know you asked. I told them that she had called in for ten minutes, and then gone straight back to Pavlofsk. No one knows she slept here. Last night we came in just as carefully as you and I did today. I thought as I came along with her that she would not like to creep in so secretly, but I was quite wrong. She whispered, and walked on tip-toe; she carried her skirt over her arm, so that it shouldn't rustle, and she held up her finger at me on the stairs, so that I shouldn't make a noise--it was you she was afraid of. She was mad with terror in the train, and she begged me to bring her to this house. I thought of taking her to her rooms at the Ismailofsky barracks first; but she wouldn't hear of it. She said, 'No--not there; he'll find me out at once there. Take me to your own house, where you can hide me, and tomorrow we'll set off for Moscow.' Thence she would go to Orel, she said. When she went to bed, she was still talking about going to Orel."
"Wait! What do you intend to do now, Parfen?"
"Well, I'm afraid of you. You shudder and tremble so. We'll pass the night here together. There are no other beds besides that one; but I've thought how we'll manage. I'll take the cushions off all the sofas, and lay them down on the floor, up against the curtain here--for you and me--so that we shall be together. For if they come in and look about now, you know, they'll find her, and carry her away, and they'll be asking me questions, and I shall say I did it, and then they'll take me away, too, don't you see? So let her lie close to us--close to you and me.
"Yes, yes," agreed the prince, warmly.
"So we will not say anything about it, or let them take her away?"
"Not for anything!" cried the other; "no, no, no!"
"So I had decided, my friend; not to give her up to anyone," continued Rogojin. "We'll be very quiet. I have only been out of the house one hour all day, all the rest of the time I have been with her. I dare say the air is very bad here. It is so hot. Do you find it bad?"
"I don't know--perhaps--by morning it will be."
"I've covered her with oil-cloth--best American oilcloth, and put the sheet over that, and four jars of disinfectant, on account of the smell--as they did at Moscow--you remember? And she's lying so still; you shall see, in the morning, when it's light. What! can't you get up?" asked Rogojin, seeing the other was trembling so that he could not rise from his seat.
"My legs won't move," said the prince; "it's fear, I know. When my fear is over, I'll get up--"
"Wait a bit--I'll make the bed, and you can lie down. I'll lie down, too, and we'll listen and watch, for I don't know yet what I shall do... I tell you beforehand, so that you may be ready in case I--"
Muttering these disconnected words, Rogojin began to make up the beds. It was clear that he had devised these beds long before; last night he slept on the sofa. But there was no room for two on the sofa, and he seemed anxious that he and the prince should be close to one another; therefore, he now dragged cushions of all sizes and shapes from the sofas, and made a sort of bed of them close by the curtain. He then approached the prince, and gently helped him to rise, and led him towards the bed. But the prince could now walk by himself, so that his fear must have passed; for all that, however, he continued to shudder.
"It's hot weather, you see," continued Rogojin, as he lay down on the cushions beside Muishkin, "and, naturally, there will be a smell. I daren't open the window. My mother has some beautiful flowers in pots; they have a delicious scent; I thought of fetching them in, but that old servant will find out, she's very inquisitive.
"Yes, she is inquisitive," assented the prince.
"I thought of buying flowers, and putting them all round her; but I was afraid it would make us sad to see her with flowers round her."
![](http://pinterest.com/pin/create/button/?url=https://gardenofproserpine.blogspot.com/2013/02/bau-khong-khi-em-em-cua-mua-xuan-khien.html&media=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGjYsldXydBgwDi1v2j0WQtgB1rPRtL7_XuddGwZYBfQbSShFy1H9VEbZo2dT_Ge0f2zxvw9hG7IY1ZE7NYz82iHDeneZ_Jc56SuXPOBqp_26NdvLn4a0IJ4D_dR8xhEDEzA2MngjdDko/s72-c/Pictures.jpg&description= "Bầu không khí êm đềm của mùa xuân khiến em sinh ra mơ mộng, về những gì đã xảy ra và về những gì hẳn sẽ diễn ra nếu anh còn đó....){kind=link}
![](http://pinterest.com/pin/create/button/?url=https://gardenofproserpine.blogspot.com/2013/02/va-la-nastasia-philipovna-tu-bo.html&media=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0Rtf6Xz2okQf5fvRRDFJtanPdvHsyvCEWxG4pVbW9dusbi91M_c42oDUt7IwoBYFhbJX-glj3Yb-yCSfn7VGZayQkxLPGKJdrQ9Foq7l-SKsBYfNo5xQq5GVKofhzxLtkaZEu6-cHrY/s72-c/e4f2a34269463927e3f579e4d94997a4.jpg&description= Đây có lẽ là một trong những đoạn miêu tả về cái chết một cách quánh đặc nhất. "Rogojin, where is Nastasia Philipovna?" sa...){kind=link}