Maslova's refusal of marriage

Maslova's refusal of marriage is the pivotal moment in which she definitively rejects Nekhludoff's offer to atone for his past betrayal by marrying her, asserting her own moral agency and choosing a path of self-sacrifice rather than accepting a union she believes would ruin his life. This refusal, delivered in two charged interviews, transforms the novel's central relationship from a one-sided redemption project into a mutual, if painful, recognition of each other's dignity and freedom. It marks the point where Maslova ceases to be merely the object of Nekhludoff's guilt and becomes the active subject of her own fate, a decision that ultimately clears the way for her to accept the love of another man, Valdemar Simonson, and for Nekhludoff to pursue a broader spiritual awakening.

The First Refusal: Anger and Accusation

The first refusal occurs during Nekhludoff's second visit to the prison, in the office where she has been brought to sign the petition to the Senate. The jailer sits on a windowsill at a distance, and Nekhludoff, leaning over the table so as not to be overheard, tells her that if the petition fails they will appeal to the Emperor. She interrupts him, complaining that her court-appointed advocate was "quite a silly" who did nothing but pay her compliments, and then, with a sudden shift, asks him to help an old woman named Menshova and her son Mitri, who are imprisoned for arson though innocent. When Nekhludoff tries to return to his own purpose, reminding her of what he said at their first interview, she deflects with a dismissive "You said a lot last time. What was it you told me?" He presses on, stating that he has come to ask forgiveness and to atone for his sin not by mere words but in deed: "I have made up my mind to marry you." At this, an expression of fear crosses her face; her squinting eyes remain fixed on him yet seem not to be looking at him. She asks, with an angry frown, "What's that for?" and when he replies that he feels it his duty before God, she retorts bitterly, "What God have you found now? You are not saying what you ought to. God, indeed! What God? You ought to have remembered God then." Her breath smells of spirits, and Nekhludoff realizes she has been drinking. She grows increasingly agitated, flushing scarlet and crying out, "I am a convict, and you are a gentleman and a prince. There's no need for you to soil yourself by touching me. You go to your princesses; my price is a ten-rouble note." When he insists he feels guilty, she mimics him angrily: "You did not feel so then, but threw me 100 roubles. That's your price." She pulls her hand away when he tries to touch her, and screams, "You've got pleasure out of me in this life, and want to save yourself through me in the life to come. You are disgusting to me—your spectacles and the whole of your dirty fat mug. Go, go!" The jailer intervenes, and she sits down again, dropping her eyes and firmly clasping her small hands. When Nekhludoff asks if she does not believe him, she declares, "That you mean to marry me? It will never be. I'll rather hang myself. So there!" She then begins to cry piteously, and when he says he will continue to serve her, she replies, "That's your affair, only I don't want anything from you." As she leaves, she gives him no answer to his request that she think it over, and follows the jailer out of the room without looking up.

The Second Refusal: Calm Resolution and Self-Sacrifice

The second refusal takes place much later, after Maslova has been transferred to the political prisoners' group and has come to know Simonson. Nekhludoff, having received the news that her sentence has been commuted from hard labor to exile, visits her in the prison office. She enters with rapid steps, blinking her eyes, and her face appears hard and unpleasant to him, as it had been when she reproached him before. He tells her that as soon as the original document arrives she may come away and settle where she likes. She interrupts him hurriedly, saying, "What have I to consider? Where Valdemar Simonson goes, there I shall follow." She pronounces the words quickly and distinctly, as if she had prepared them. When Nekhludoff asks if she loves Simonson, she replies, "Loving or not loving, what does it matter? I have given up all that. And then Valdemar Simonson is quite an exceptional man." She interrupts him again when he tries to praise Simonson, saying, "No, Dmitri Ivanovitch, you must forgive me if I am not doing what you wish. Yes, it evidently must be so. You must live, too." She says exactly what he had been telling himself moments before, but he now feels very differently—ashamed and sorry to lose all he is losing with her. When he says he would like to go on serving her, she replies, "We do not want anything. You have done so much for me as it is. If it had not been for you—" Her voice trembles. He says she has no reason to thank him, and she answers, "Where is the use of our reckoning? God will make up our accounts," and her black eyes glisten with tears. She says, "What a good woman you are," and she replies through her tears, "I good?" with a pathetic smile. When he holds out his hand, she says, "Forgive me," so low he can hardly hear her. Their eyes meet, and Nekhludoff knows by the strange look of her squinting eyes and the pathetic smile with which she says not "Good-bye" but "Forgive me" that she loves him and thinks that by uniting herself to him she would be spoiling his life. By going with Simonson she believes she is setting him free, and feels glad she has done what she meant to do, yet suffers at parting from him. She presses his hand, turns quickly, and leaves the room.

The Roots of Refusal: Betrayal, Shame, and a Changed Identity

Maslova's refusal is not a spontaneous outburst but the culmination of a long history of betrayal and degradation. Her life story, as recounted in the novel, is a common one: the illegitimate daughter of a village woman, she is raised by two maiden ladies, half servant and half young lady, and at sixteen falls in love with Nekhludoff, her aunts' nephew. Two years later, on the night before he leaves to join his regiment, he seduces and abandons her, pressing a 100-rouble note into her hand. She later discovers she is pregnant, and the child dies soon after being sent to the Foundlings' Hospital. From that point, her life descends into a series of humiliations: she is turned out by her aunts, harassed by employers, and eventually driven into prostitution, where she lives for seven years in a state of "chronic sin against human and divine laws." The memory of Nekhludoff becomes buried deep in her soul, too painful to recall. When she sees him again in the courtroom, she does not recognize him at first, and when she does, she drives the memory away, associating him not with the young man she loved but with the men who have used her. Her refusal to marry him is thus a refusal to be reduced once again to an object of his moral convenience. She tells him, "You've got pleasure out of me in this life, and want to save yourself through me in the life to come," articulating a clear-eyed understanding of how his offer, however sincere, still positions her as a means to his own redemption. Her anger at the first refusal is the anger of a woman who has been betrayed and who will not be used again, even for a noble purpose.

The Aftermath: A New Path and a New Love

After the first refusal, Maslova returns to her cell, where her fellow prisoners try to comfort her. Korableva tells her to make the most of Nekhludoff's interest, but Maslova lies down on the shelf bedstead, her squinting eyes fixed on a corner of the room, and lies there until evening. A painful struggle goes on in her soul: Nekhludoff's words call up the memory of a world she has left without understanding, hating it, and she fears to wake from the trance in which she is living. Not having arrived at any conclusion, she again buys vodka and drinks with her companions. Yet the change has begun. When she later joins the political prisoners, she comes under the influence of Mary Pavlovna Schetinina and, more decisively, of Valdemar Simonson, who loves her not for what she was or what she can do for him, but for what she is. Simonson's love, as Nekhludoff recognizes, is entirely different from his own: it is not a sacrifice but a genuine, disinterested affection. Maslova, in turn, feels that Simonson considers her an exceptional woman with peculiarly high moral qualities, and she tries to become as good as possible to live up to his image of her. Her final refusal of Nekhludoff, calm and resolute, is thus also an acceptance of Simonson and of a new identity. She tells Nekhludoff, "You must live, too," and in doing so, she frees him from the burden of his guilt and herself from the role of the forgiven sinner. The refusal is not a rejection of love but a redefinition of it: she will not be the object of a duty-bound marriage, but will choose her own path, even if it means following a man she does not yet love as passionately as she once loved Nekhludoff.

Thematic Significance: The Refusal as Moral Awakening

Maslova's refusal of marriage is the novel's most powerful demonstration of her moral agency and the culmination of her own "resurrection." Throughout the story, she has been acted upon—by Nekhludoff, by the legal system, by the men who use her. In refusing him, she seizes control of her own fate and asserts a dignity that transcends her social position. Her refusal also forces Nekhludoff to confront the limits of his own redemption project: he cannot save her by marrying her; she must save herself. The refusal clears the way for both characters to pursue authentic spiritual paths—Maslova with Simonson, Nekhludoff toward a broader understanding of Christian forgiveness and social justice. In the end, her refusal is not a defeat but a victory, a choice made not out of spite or despair but out of a clear-eyed love that seeks the other's good above her own. As she says, with tears in her eyes, "God will make up our accounts."