The prosecutor spoke at great length, endeavoring on the one hand to
remember all those wise sayings which he had prepared for the
occasion, and on the other, most important, hand, not to stop for a
moment, but to make his speech flow uninterruptedly for an hour and a
quarter. He stopped only once, for a long time swallowing his saliva,
but he immediately mastered himself and made up for the lost time by a
greater flow of eloquence. He spoke in a gentle, insinuating voice,
resting now on one foot, now on the other, and looking at the jury;
then changed to a calm, business tone, consulting his note-book, and
again he thundered accusations, turning now to the spectators, now to
the jury. But he never looked at the prisoners, all three of whom
stared at him. He incorporated into his speech all the latest ideas
then in vogue in the circle of his acquaintances, and what was then
and is now received as the last word of scientific wisdom. He spoke of
heredity, of innate criminality, of Lombroso, of Charcot, of
evolution, of the struggle for existence, of hypnotism, of hypnotic
suggestion, and of decadence.

The merchant Smelkoff, according to the prosecutor, was a type of the
great, pure Russian, with his broad nature, who, in consequence of his
trusting nature and generosity, had become a victim of a gang of
corrupt people, into whose hands he had fallen.

Simon Kartinkin was the atavistic production of serfdom, stupid,
without education, and even without religion. Euphemia was his
mistress, and a victim of heredity. All the symptoms of degenerate
life were in her. But the ruling spirit in this crime was Maslova, who
was the mouthpiece of the lowest phenomenon of decadence. "This
woman," said the prosecutor without looking at her, "received an