



Produced by David Moynihan, David Widger and Michelle Knight





THE POSSESSED (The Devils)

A Novel In Three Parts

By Fyodor Dostoevsky

Translated From The Russian By Constance Garnett



CONTENTS:

     * PART I
     * CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY
     * CHAPTER II. PRINCE HARRY. MATCHMAKING.
     * CHAPTER III. THE SINS OF OTHERS
     * CHAPTER IV. THE <DW36>
     * CHAPTER V. THE SUBTLE SERPENT

     * PART II
     * CHAPTER I. NIGHT
     * CHAPTER II. NIGHT (continued)
     * CHAPTER III. THE DUEL
     * CHAPTER IV. ALL IN EXPECTATION
     * CHAPTER V. ON THE EVE OF THE FETE
     * CHAPTER VI. PYOTR STEPANOVITCH IS BUSY
     * CHAPTER VII. A MEETING
     * CHAPTER VIII. IVAN THE TSAREVITCH
     * CHAPTER IX. A RAID AT STEFAN TROFIMOVITCH'S
     * CHAPTER X. FILIBUSTERS. A FATAL MORNING

     * PART III
     * CHAPTER I. THE FETE--FIRST PART
     * CHAPTER II. THE END OF THE FETE
     * CHAPTER III. A ROMANCE ENDED
     * CHAPTER IV. THE LAST RESOLUTION
     * CHAPTER V. A WANDERER
     * CHAPTER VI. A BUSY NIGHT
     * CHAPTER VII. STEPAN TROFIMOVITCH'S LAST WANDERING
     * CHAPTER VIII. CONCLUSION





1916

     "Strike me dead, the track has vanished,
     Well, what now? We've lost the way,
     Demons have bewitched our horses,
     Led us in the wilds astray.

     "What a number! Whither drift they?
     What's the mournful dirge they sing?
     Do they hail a witch's marriage
     Or a goblin's burying?"

     A. Pushkin.


     "And there was one herd of many swine feeding on this
     mountain; and they besought him that he would suffer them to
     enter into them. And he suffered them.

     "Then went the devils out of the man and entered into the
     swine; and the herd ran violently down a steep place into
     the lake and were choked.

     "When they that fed them saw what was done, they fled, and
     went and told it in the city and in the country.

     "Then they went out to see what was done; and came to Jesus
     and found the man, out of whom the devils were departed,
     sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind;
     and they were afraid."

     Luke, ch. viii. 32-37.





PART I




CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY

SOME DETAILS OF THE BIOGRAPHY OF THAT HIGHLY RESPECTED GENTLEMAN STEPAN
TROFIMOVITCH VERHOVENSKY.

IN UNDERTAKING to describe the recent and strange incidents in our town,
till lately wrapped in uneventful obscurity, I find myself forced in
absence of literary skill to begin my story rather far back, that is
to say, with certain biographical details concerning that talented and
highly-esteemed gentleman, Stepan Trofimovitch Verhovensky. I trust that
these details may at least serve as an introduction, while my projected
story itself will come later.

I will say at once that Stepan Trofimovitch had always filled a
particular role among us, that of the progressive patriot, so to say,
and he was passionately fond of playing the part--so much so that I
really believe he could not have existed without it. Not that I would
put him on a level with an actor at a theatre, God forbid, for I really
have a respect for him. This may all have been the effect of habit, or
rather, more exactly of a generous propensity he had from his earliest
years for indulging in an agreeable day-dream in which he figured as
a picturesque public character. He fondly loved, for instance, his
position as a "persecuted" man and, so to speak, an "exile." There is a
sort of traditional glamour about those two little words that fascinated
him once for all and, exalting him gradually in his own opinion, raised
him in the course of years to a lofty pedestal very gratifying to
vanity. In an English satire of the last century, Gulliver, returning
from the land of the Lilliputians where the people were only three or
four inches high, had grown so accustomed to consider himself a giant
among them, that as he walked along the streets of London he could not
help crying out to carriages and passers-by to be careful and get out of
his way for fear he should crush them, imagining that they were little
and he was still a giant. He was laughed at and abused for it, and rough
coachmen even lashed at the giant with their whips. But was that just?
What may not be done by habit? Habit had brought Stepan Trofimovitch
almost to the same position, but in a more innocent and inoffensive
form, if one may use such expressions, for he was a most excellent man.

I am even inclined to suppose that towards the end he had been entirely
forgotten everywhere; but still it cannot be said that his name had
never been known. It is beyond question that he had at one time belonged
to a certain distinguished constellation of celebrated leaders of
the last generation, and at one time--though only for the briefest
moment--his name was pronounced by many hasty persons of that day almost
as though it were on a level with the names of Tchaadaev, of Byelinsky,
of Granovsky, and of Herzen, who had only just begun to write abroad.
But Stepan Trofimovitch's activity ceased almost at the moment it began,
owing