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- Федор Достоевский
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"
The
three
or
four
hours
went
by
,
of
course
,
in
necessary
preparations
--
the
priest
,
breakfast
,
(
coffee
,
meat
,
and
some
wine
they
gave
him
;
does
n't
it
seem
ridiculous
?
)
And
yet
I
believe
these
people
give
them
a
good
breakfast
out
of
pure
kindness
of
heart
,
and
believe
that
they
are
doing
a
good
action
.
Then
he
is
dressed
,
and
then
begins
the
procession
through
the
town
to
the
scaffold
.
I
think
he
,
too
,
must
feel
that
he
has
an
age
to
live
still
while
they
cart
him
along
.
Probably
he
thought
,
on
the
way
,
'
Oh
,
I
have
a
long
,
long
time
yet
.
Three
streets
of
life
yet
!
When
we
've
passed
this
street
there
'll
be
that
other
one
;
and
then
that
one
where
the
baker
's
shop
is
on
the
right
;
and
when
shall
we
get
there
?
It
's
ages
,
ages
!
'
Around
him
are
crowds
shouting
,
yelling
--
ten
thousand
faces
,
twenty
thousand
eyes
.
All
this
has
to
be
endured
,
and
especially
the
thought
:
'
Here
are
ten
thousand
men
,
and
not
one
of
them
is
going
to
be
executed
,
and
yet
I
am
to
die
.
'
Well
,
all
that
is
preparatory
.
"
At
the
scaffold
there
is
a
ladder
,
and
just
there
he
burst
into
tears
--
and
this
was
a
strong
man
,
and
a
terribly
wicked
one
,
they
say
!
There
was
a
priest
with
him
the
whole
time
,
talking
;
even
in
the
cart
as
they
drove
along
,
he
talked
and
talked
.
Probably
the
other
heard
nothing
;
he
would
begin
to
listen
now
and
then
,
and
at
the
third
word
or
so
he
had
forgotten
all
about
it
.
"
At
last
he
began
to
mount
the
steps
;
his
legs
were
tied
,
so
that
he
had
to
take
very
small
steps
.
The
priest
,
who
seemed
to
be
a
wise
man
,
had
stopped
talking
now
,
and
only
held
the
cross
for
the
wretched
fellow
to
kiss
.
At
the
foot
of
the
ladder
he
had
been
pale
enough
;
but
when
he
set
foot
on
the
scaffold
at
the
top
,
his
face
suddenly
became
the
colour
of
paper
,
positively
like
white
notepaper
.
His
legs
must
have
become
suddenly
feeble
and
helpless
,
and
he
felt
a
choking
in
his
throat
--
you
know
the
sudden
feeling
one
has
in
moments
of
terrible
fear
,
when
one
does
not
lose
one
's
wits
,
but
is
absolutely
powerless
to
move
?
If
some
dreadful
thing
were
suddenly
to
happen
;
if
a
house
were
just
about
to
fall
on
one
;
--
do
n't
you
know
how
one
would
long
to
sit
down
and
shut
one
's
eyes
and
wait
,
and
wait
?
Well
,
when
this
terrible
feeling
came
over
him
,
the
priest
quickly
pressed
the
cross
to
his
lips
,
without
a
word
--
a
little
silver
cross
it
was
--
and
he
kept
on
pressing
it
to
the
man
's
lips
every
second
.
And
whenever
the
cross
touched
his
lips
,
the
eyes
would
open
for
a
moment
,
and
the
legs
moved
once
,
and
he
kissed
the
cross
greedily
,
hurriedly
--
just
as
though
he
were
anxious
to
catch
hold
of
something
in
case
of
its
being
useful
to
him
afterwards
,
though
he
could
hardly
have
had
any
connected
religious
thoughts
at
the
time
.
And
so
up
to
the
very
block
.
"
How
strange
that
criminals
seldom
swoon
at
such
a
moment
!
On
the
contrary
,
the
brain
is
especially
active
,
and
works
incessantly
--
probably
hard
,
hard
,
hard
--
like
an
engine
at
full
pressure
.
I
imagine
that
various
thoughts
must
beat
loud
and
fast
through
his
head
--
all
unfinished
ones
,
and
strange
,
funny
thoughts
,
very
likely
!
--
like
this
,
for
instance
:
'
That
man
is
looking
at
me
,
and
he
has
a
wart
on
his
forehead
!
and
the
executioner
has
burst
one
of
his
buttons
,
and
the
lowest
one
is
all
rusty
!
'
And
meanwhile
he
notices
and
remembers
everything
.
There
is
one
point
that
can
not
be
forgotten
,
round
which
everything
else
dances
and
turns
about
;
and
because
of
this
point
he
can
not
faint
,
and
this
lasts
until
the
very
final
quarter
of
a
second
,
when
the
wretched
neck
is
on
the
block
and
the
victim
listens
and
waits
and
knows
--
that
's
the
point
,
he
knows
that
he
is
just
now
about
to
die
,
and
listens
for
the
rasp
of
the
iron
over
his
head
.
If
I
lay
there
,
I
should
certainly
listen
for
that
grating
sound
,
and
hear
it
,
too
!
There
would
probably
be
but
the
tenth
part
of
an
instant
left
to
hear
it
in
,
but
one
would
certainly
hear
it
.
And
imagine
,
some
people
declare
that
when
the
head
flies
off
it
is
conscious
of
having
flown
off
!
Just
imagine
what
a
thing
to
realize
!
Fancy
if
consciousness
were
to
last
for
even
five
seconds
!
"
Draw
the
scaffold
so
that
only
the
top
step
of
the
ladder
comes
in
clearly
.
The
criminal
must
be
just
stepping
on
to
it
,
his
face
as
white
as
note-paper
.
The
priest
is
holding
the
cross
to
his
blue
lips
,
and
the
criminal
kisses
it
,
and
knows
and
sees
and
understands
everything
.
The
cross
and
the
head
--
there
's
your
picture
;
the
priest
and
the
executioner
,
with
his
two
assistants
,
and
a
few
heads
and
eyes
below
.
Those
might
come
in
as
subordinate
accessories
--
a
sort
of
mist
.
There
's
a
picture
for
you
.
"
The
prince
paused
,
and
looked
around
.
"
Certainly
that
is
n't
much
like
quietism
,
"
murmured
Alexandra
,
half
to
herself
.
"
Now
tell
us
about
your
love
affairs
,
"
said
Adelaida
,
after
a
moment
's
pause
.
The
prince
gazed
at
her
in
amazement
.
