The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (reading an ebook TXT) 📗

Chapter 4

The Confession of a Passionate Heart-In Anecdote

 

“I was leading a wild life then. Father said just now that I spent

several thousand roubles in seducing young girls. That’s a swinish

invention, and there was nothing of the sort. And if there was, I

didn’t need money simply for that. With me money is an accessory,

the overflow of my heart, the framework. To-day she would be my

lady, to-morrow a wench out of the streets in her place. I entertained

them both. I threw away money by the handful on music, rioting, and

Gypsies. Sometimes I gave it to the ladies, too, for they’ll take it

greedily, that must be admitted, and be pleased and thankful for it.

Ladies used to be fond of me: not all of them, but it happened, it

happened. But I always liked side-paths, little dark back-alleys

behind the main road-there one finds adventures and surprises, and

precious metal in the dirt. I am speaking figuratively, brother. In

the town I was in, there were no such back-alleys in the literal

sense, but morally there were. If you were like me, you’d know what

that means. I loved vice, I loved the ignominy of vice. I loved

cruelty; am I not a bug, am I not a noxious insect? In fact a

Karamazov! Once we went, a whole lot of us, for a picnic, in seven

sledges. It was dark, it was winter, and I began squeezing a girl’s

hand, and forced her to kiss me. She was the daughter of an

official, a sweet, gentle, submissive creature. She allowed me, she

allowed me much in the dark. She thought, poor thing, that I should

come next day to make her an offer (I was looked upon as a good match,

too). But I didn’t say a word to her for five months. I used to see

her in a corner at dances (we were always having dances), her eyes

watching me. I saw how they glowed with fire-a fire of gentle

indignation. This game only tickled that insect lust I cherished in my

soul. Five months later she married an official and left the town,

still angry, and still, perhaps, in love with me. Now they live

happily. Observe that I told no one. I didn’t boast of it. Though

I’m full of low desires, and love what’s low, I’m not dishonourable.

You’re blushing; your eyes flashed. Enough of this filth with you. And

all this was nothing much-wayside blossoms a la Paul de Kock-though the cruel insect had already grown strong in my soul. I’ve a

perfect album of reminiscences, brother. God bless them, the darlings.

I tried to break it off without quarrelling. And I never gave them

away, I never bragged of one of them. But that’s enough. You can’t

suppose I brought you here simply to talk of such nonsense. No, I’m

going to tell you something more curious; and don’t be surprised

that I’m glad to tell you, instead of being ashamed.”

 

“You say that because I blushed,” Alyosha said suddenly. “I wasn’t

blushing at what you were saying or at what you’ve done. I blushed

because I am the same as you are.”

 

“You? Come, that’s going a little too far!”

 

“No, it’s not too far,” said Alyosha warmly (obviously the idea

was not a new one). “The ladder’s the same. I’m at the bottom step,

and you’re above, somewhere about the thirteenth. That’s how I see it.

But it’s all the same. Absolutely the same in kind. Anyone on the

bottom step is bound to go up to the top one.”

 

“Then one ought not to step on at all.”

 

“Anyone who can help it had better not.”

 

“But can you?”

 

“I think not.”

 

“Hush, Alyosha, hush, darling! I could kiss your hand, you touch

me so. That rogue Grushenka has an eye for men. She told me once

that she’d devour you one day. There, there, I won’t! From this

field of corruption fouled by flies, let’s pass to my tragedy, also

befouled by flies, that is, by every sort of vileness. Although the

old man told lies about my seducing innocence, there really was

something of the sort in my tragedy, though it was only once, and then

it did not come off. The old man who has reproached me with what never

happened does not even know of this fact; I never told anyone about

it. You’re the first, except Ivan, of course-Ivan knows everything.

He knew about it long before you. But Ivan’s a tomb.”

 

“Ivan’s a tomb?”

 

Alyosha listened with great attention.

 

“I was lieutenant in a line regiment, but still I was under

supervision, like a kind of convict. Yet I was awfully well received

in the little town. I spent money right and left. I was thought to

be rich; I thought so myself. But I must have pleased them in other

ways as well. Although they shook their heads over me, they liked

me. My colonel, who was an old man, took a sudden dislike to me. He

was always down upon me, but I had powerful friends, and, moreover,

all the town was on my side, so he couldn’t do me much harm. I was

in fault myself for refusing to treat him with proper respect. I was

proud. This obstinate old fellow, who was really a very good sort,

kindhearted and hospitable, had had two wives, both dead. His first

wife, who was of a humble family, left a daughter as unpretentious

as herself. She was a young woman of four and twenty when I was there,

and was living with her father and an aunt, her mother’s sister. The

aunt was simple and illiterate; the niece was simple but lively. I

like to say nice things about people. I never knew a woman of more

charming character than Agafya-fancy, her name was Agafya Ivanovna!

And she wasn’t bad-looking either, in the Russian style: tall,

stout, with a full figure, and beautiful eyes, though a rather

coarse face. She had not married, although she had had two suitors.

She refused them, but was as cheerful as ever. I was intimate with

her, not in ‘that’ way, it was pure friendship. I have often been

friendly with women quite innocently. I used to talk to her with

shocking frankness, and she only laughed. Many woman like such

freedom, and she was a girl too, which made it very amusing. Another

thing, one could never think of her as a young lady. She and her

aunt lived in her father’s house with a sort of voluntary humility,

not putting themselves on an equality with other people. She was a

general favourite, and of use of everyone, for she was a clever

dressmaker. She had a talent for it. She gave her services freely

without asking for payment, but if anyone offered her payment, she

didn’t refuse. The colonel, of course, was a very different matter. He

was one of the chief personages in the district. He kept open house,

entertained the whole town, gave suppers and dances. At the time I

arrived and joined the battalion, all the town was talking of the

expected return of the colonel’s second daughter, a great beauty,

who had just left a fashionable school in the capital. This second

daughter is Katerina Ivanovna, and she was the child of the second

wife, who belonged to a distinguished general’s family; although, as I

learnt on good authority, she too brought the colonel no money. She

had connections, and that was all. There may have been expectations,

but they had come to nothing.

 

“Yet, when the young lady came from boarding-school on a visit,

the whole town revived. Our most distinguished ladies-two

‘Excellencies’ and a colonel’s wife-and all the rest following

their lead, at once took her up and gave entertainments in her honour.

She was the belle of the balls and picnics, and they got up tableaux

vivants in aid of distressed governesses. I took no notice, I went

on as wildly as before, and one of my exploits at the time set all the

town talking. I saw her eyes taking my measure one evening at the

battery commander’s, but I didn’t go up to her, as though I

disdained her acquaintance. I did go up and speak to her at an evening

party not long after. She scarcely looked at me, and compressed her

lips scornfully. ‘Wait a bit. I’ll have my revenge,’ thought I. I

behaved like