Raskolnikov has been a vigorous champion of Sonia against Luzhin, though a load of horror still sits in his own heart. Having gone through so much that morning, he finds a sort of relief in a change of sensations. He must tell her who killed Lizaveta. At her door the inevitable crushes him, then he enters. Sonia meets him with gratitude for saving her from Luzhin; he warns her Amalia is evicting them and Katerina has run into the street seeking justice. He tells her to stay, then forces a cruel Luzhin problem: if she could choose Luzhin's life or her family's ruin, who dies? She refuses to judge; only God decides. His tone breaks; he asks forgiveness for using Providence as an excuse and admits he came to throw his burden on her.
The confession arrives sideways: yesterday he promised to name Lizaveta's killer. Sonia trembles; he says he knows, whispers Guess until her face becomes Lizaveta's at the axe. Good God breaks from her; she seizes his hands, sees there is no doubt. What have you done to yourself? she cries, embracing him though he warns she hugs a murderer. No one is so unhappy as you, she wails; I will follow you everywhere and I'll follow you to Siberia while he recoils with hostile pride.
He denies he killed for hunger or only to help his mother, clarifies the funeral money was his own from his mother, admits the chamois purse and trinkets buried in the yard, says he has not decided whether to keep the money. Fever drives the long speech: power, the man who dares, the devil and God, the battle of ideas in the dark garret. He unravels the Napoleon theory: would Napoleon murder a pawnbroker for trunk money? He did, following that logic, then calls it talk, says only killed a louse, lists vanity, the spider garret, power over men, and insists he wanted daring, the right to step over barriers, to kill for himself alone, not for charity.
Sonia commands him to stand, kiss the earth which you have defiled, bow to all the world and confess aloud; suffer and expiate. He refuses Siberia and surrender yet tells her police are on his track, that he will struggle and may visit him in prison. Their love feels suddenly burdensome to him as well as saving. She tells him to stand at the cross-roads this very minute, bow down, first kiss the earth which he has defiled, then say aloud to all men: I am a murderer. Suffer and expiate your sin by it, that’s what you must do. She offers Lizaveta's cypress cross for when suffering begins; he says not now, better later, that they will pray and go together when the time comes. Perhaps I don’t want to go to Siberia yet, Sonia, he answers. Lebeziatnikov knocks politely. She is still holding the command. He has named the axe. He has not yet gone to the cross-roads.
