The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (reading an ebook TXT) 📗
- Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky
- Performer: 0140449248
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I’m not afraid of….”
“Don’t be afraid of Ivan either. He is angry, but he’ll defend
you.”
“Alyosha, and what of the other? He’s run to Grushenka. My
angel, tell me the truth, was she here just now or not?”
“No one has seen her. It was a mistake. She has not been here.”
“You know Mitya wants to marry her, to marry her.”
“She won’t marry him.”
“She won’t. She won’t. She won’t. She won’t on any account!”
The old man fairly fluttered with joy, as though nothing more
comforting could have been said to him. In his delight he seized
Alyosha’s hand and pressed it warmly to his heart. Tears positively
glittered in his eyes.
“That image of the Mother of God of which I was telling you just
now,” he said. “Take it home and keep it for yourself. And I’ll let
you go back to the monastery…. I was joking this morning, don’t be
angry with me. My head aches, Alyosha…. Alyosha, comfort my heart.
Be an angel and tell me the truth!”
“You’re still asking whether she has been here or not?” Alyosha
said sorrowfully.
“No, no, no. I believe you. I’ll tell you what it is: you go to
Grushenka yourself, or see her somehow; make haste and ask her; see
for yourself, which she means to choose, him or me. Eh? What? Can
you?”
“If I see her I’ll ask her,” Alyosha muttered, embarrassed.
“No, she won’t tell you,” the old man interrupted, “she’s a rogue.
She’ll begin kissing you and say that it’s you she wants. She’s a
deceitful, shameless hussy. You mustn’t go to her, you mustn’t!”
“No father, and it wouldn’t be suitable, it wouldn’t be right at
all.”
“Where was he sending you just now? He shouted ‘Go’ as he ran
away.”
“For money? To ask her for money?”
“No. Not for money.”
“He’s no money; not a farthing. I’ll settle down for the night,
and think things over, and you can go. Perhaps you’ll meet her….
Only be sure to come to me to-morrow in the morning. Be sure to. I
have a word to say to you to-morrow. Will you come?”
“When you come, pretend you’ve come of your own accord to ask
after me. Don’t tell anyone I told you to. Don’t say a word to Ivan.”
“Very well.”
“Goodbye, my angel. You stood up for me, just now. I shall never
forget it. I’ve a word to say to you to-morrow- but I must think about
it.”
“And how do you feel now?”
“I shall get up to-morrow and go out, perfectly well, perfectly
well!”
Crossing the yard Alyosha found Ivan sitting on the bench at the
gateway. He was sitting writing something in pencil in his notebook.
Alyosha told Ivan that their father had waked up, was conscious, and
had let him go back to sleep at the monastery.
“Alyosha, I should be very glad to meet you to-morrow morning,”
said Ivan cordially, standing up. His cordiality was a complete
surprise to Alyosha.
“I shall be at the Hohlakovs’ to-morrow,” answered Alyosha, “I may
be at Katerina Ivanovna’s, too, if I don’t find her now.”
“But you’re going to her now, anyway? For that ‘compliments and
farewell,’” said Ivan smiling. Alyosha was disconcerted.
“I think I quite understand his exclamations just now, and part of
what went before. Dmitri has asked you to go to her and say that he-well, in fact-takes his leave of her?”
“Brother, how will all this horror end between father and Dmitri?”
exclaimed Alyosha.
“One can’t tell for certain. Perhaps in nothing: it may all fizzle
out. That woman is a beast. In any case we must keep the old man
indoors and not let Dmitri in the house.”
“Brother, let me ask one thing more: has any man a right to look
at other men and decide which is worthy to live?”
“Why bring in the question of worth? The matter is most often
decided in men’s hearts on other grounds much more natural. And as for
rights-who has not the right to wish?”
“Not for another man’s death?”
“What even if for another man’s death? Why lie to oneself since
all men live so and perhaps cannot help living so. Are you referring
to what I said just now-that one reptile will devour the other? In
that case let me ask you, do you think me like Dmitri capable of
shedding Aesop’s blood, murdering him, eh?”
“What are you saying, Ivan? Such an idea never crossed my mind.
I don’t think Dmitri is capable of it, either.”
“Thanks, if only for that,” smiled Ivan. “Be sure, I should always
defend him. But in my wishes I reserve myself full latitude in this
case. Goodbye till to-morrow. Don’t condemn me, and don’t look on
me as a villain,” he added with a smile.
They shook hands warmly as they had never done before. Alyosha
felt that his brother had taken the first step towards him, and that
he had certainly done this with some definite motive.
Both Together
ALYOSHA left his father’s house feeling even more exhausted and
dejected in spirit than when he had entered it. His mind too seemed
shattered and unhinged, while he felt that he was afraid to put
together the disjointed fragments and form a general idea from all the
agonising and conflicting experiences of the day. He felt something
bordering upon despair, which he had never known till then. Towering
like a mountain above all the rest stood the fatal, insoluble
question: How would things end between his father and his brother
Dmitri with this terrible woman? Now he had himself been a witness
of it, he had been present and seen them face to face. Yet only his
brother Dmitri could be made unhappy, terribly, completely unhappy:
there was trouble awaiting him. It appeared too that there were
other people concerned, far more so than Alyosha could have supposed
before. There was something positively mysterious in it, too. Ivan had
made a step towards him, which was what Alyosha had been long
desiring. Yet now he felt for some reason that he was frightened at
it. And these women? Strange to say, that morning he had set out for
Katerina Ivanovna’s in the greatest embarrassment; now he felt nothing
of the kind. On the contrary, he was hastening there as though
expecting to find guidance from her. Yet to give her this message
was obviously more difficult than before. The matter of the three
thousand was decided irrevocably, and Dmitri, feeling himself
dishonoured and losing his last hope, might sink to any depth. He had,
moreover, told him to describe to Katerina Ivanovna the scene which
had just taken place with his father.
It was by now seven o’clock, and it was getting dark as Alyosha
entered the very spacious and convenient house in the High Street
occupied by Katerina Ivanovna. Alyosha knew that she lived with two
aunts. One of them, a woman of little education, was that aunt of
her half-sister Agafya Ivanovna who had looked after her in her
father’s house when she came from boarding-school. The other aunt
was a Moscow lady of style and consequence, though in straitened
circumstances. It was said that they both gave way in everything to
Katerina Ivanovna, and that she only kept them with her as
chaperons. Katerina Ivanovna herself gave way to no one but her
benefactress, the general’s widow, who had been kept by illness in
Moscow, and to whom she was obliged to write twice a week a full
account of all her doings.
When Alyosha entered the hall and asked the maid who opened the
door to him to take his name up, it was evident that they were already
aware of his arrival. Possibly he had been noticed from the window. At
least, Alyosha heard a noise, caught the sound of flying footsteps and
rustling skirts. Two or three women, perhaps, had run out of the room.
Alyosha thought it strange that his arrival should cause such
excitement. He was conducted, however, to the drawing-room at once. It
was a large room, elegantly and amply furnished, not at all in
provincial style. There were many sofas, lounges, settees, big and
little tables. There were pictures on the walls, vases and lamps on
the tables, masses of flowers, and even an aquarium in the window.
It was twilight and rather dark. Alyosha made out a silk mantle thrown
down on the sofa, where people had evidently just been sitting; and on
a table in front of the sofa were two unfinished cups of chocolate,
cakes, a glass saucer with blue raisins, and another with
sweetmeats. Alyosha saw that he had interrupted visitors, and frowned.
But at that instant the portiere was raised, and with rapid,
hurrying footsteps Katerina Ivanovna came in, holding out both hands
to Alyosha with a radiant smile of delight. At the same instant a
servant brought in two lighted candles and set them on the table.
“Thank God! At last you have come too! I’ve been simply praying
for you all day! Sit down.”
Alyosha had been struck by Katerina Ivanovna’s beauty when,
three weeks before, Dmitri had first brought him, at Katerina
Ivanovna’s special request, to be introduced to her. There had been no
conversation between them at that interview, however. Supposing
Alyosha to be very shy, Katerina Ivanovna had talked all the time to
Dmitri to spare him. Alyosha had been silent, but he had seen a
great deal very clearly. He was struck by the imperiousness, proud
ease, and self-confidence of the haughty girl. And all that was
certain, Alyosha felt that he was not exaggerating it. He thought
her great glowing black eyes were very fine, especially with her pale,
even rather sallow, longish face. But in those eyes and in the lines
of her exquisite lips there was something with which his brother might
well be passionately in love, but which perhaps could not be loved for
long. He expressed this thought almost plainly to Dmitri when, after
the visit, his brother besought and insisted that he should not
conceal his impressions on seeing his betrothed.
“You’ll be happy with her, but perhaps not tranquilly happy.”
“Quite so, brother. Such people remain always the same. They don’t
yield to fate. So you think I shan’t love her for ever.”
“No; perhaps you will love her for ever. But perhaps you won’t
always be happy with her.”
Alyosha had given his opinion at the time, blushing, and angry
with himself for having yielded to his brother’s entreaties and put
such “foolish” ideas into words. For his opinion had struck him as
awfully foolish immediately after he had uttered it. He felt ashamed
too of having given so confident an opinion about a woman. It was with
the more amazement that he felt now, at the first glance at Katerina
Ivanovna as she ran in to him, that he had perhaps been utterly
mistaken. This time her face was beaming with spontaneous good-natured
kindliness, and direct warm-hearted sincerity. The “pride and
haughtiness,” which had struck Alyosha so much before, was only
betrayed now in a frank, generous energy and a sort of bright,
strong faith in herself. Alyosha realised at the first glance, at
the first word, that all the tragedy of her position in relation to
the man she loved so dearly was no secret to her; that she perhaps
already knew everything, positively everything. And yet, in spite of
that, there was such brightness in her face,
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