ery timid, and shy and silent; a rather
loud woman of about forty, apparently an actress; and a very pretty,
well-dressed German lady who hardly said a word all the evening) not
only had no gift for enlivening the proceedings, but hardly knew what to
say for themselves when addressed. Under these circumstances the arrival
of the prince came almost as a godsend.

The announcement of his name gave rise to some surprise and to some
smiles, especially when it became evident, from Nastasia's astonished
look, that she had not thought of inviting him. But her astonishment
once over, Nastasia showed such satisfaction that all prepared to greet
the prince with cordial smiles of welcome.

"Of course," remarked General Epanchin, "he does this out of pure
innocence. It's a little dangerous, perhaps, to encourage this sort of
freedom; but it is rather a good thing that he has arrived just at this
moment. He may enliven us a little with his originalities."

"Especially as he asked himself," said Ferdishenko.

"What's that got to do with it?" asked the general, who loathed
Ferdishenko.

"Why, he must pay toll for his entrance," explained the latter.

"H'm! Prince Muishkin is not Ferdishenko," said the general,
impatiently. This worthy gentleman could never quite reconcile himself
to the idea of meeting Ferdishenko in society, and on an equal footing.

"Oh general, spare Ferdishenko!" replied the other, smiling. "I have
special privileges."

"What do you mean by special privileges?"

"Once before I had the honour of stating them to the company. I will
repeat the explanation to-day for your excellency's benefit. You see,
excellency, all the world is witty and clever except myself. I am
neither. As a kind of compensation I am allowed to tell the truth, for
it is a well-known fact that only stupid people tell 'the truth. Added
to this, I am a spiteful man, just because I am not clever. If I am
offended or injured I bear it quite patiently until the man injuring
me meets with some misfortune. Then I remember, and take my revenge. I
return the injury sevenfold, as Ivan Petrovitch Ptitsin says. (Of course
he never does so himself.) Excellency, no doubt you recollect Kryloff's
fable, 'The Lion and the Ass'? Well now, that's you and I. That fable
was written precisely for us."

"You seem to be talking nonsense again, Ferdishenko," growled the
general.

"What is the matter, excellency? I know how to keep my place. When I
said just