You frightened me, Rakitin, that’s what it is. Don’t be afraid of me, my dear Alyosha, you cannot think how glad I am to see you, my unexpected visitor. But you frightened me, Rakitin, I thought it was Mitya breaking in. You see, I deceived him just now, I made him promise to believe me and I told him a lie. I told him that I was going to spend the evening with my old man, Kuzma Kuzmitch, and should be there till late counting up his money. I always spend one whole evening a week with him making up his accounts. We lock ourselves in and he counts on the reckoning beads while I sit and put things down in the book. I am the only person he trusts. Mitya believes that I am there, but I came back and have been sitting locked in here, expecting some news. How was it Fenya let you in? Fenya, Fenya, run out to the gate, open it and look about whether the captain is to be seen! Perhaps he is hiding and spying, I am dreadfully frightened.


There’s no one there, Agrafena Alexandrovna, I’ve just looked out, I keep running to peep through the crack, I am in fear and trembling myself.


Are the shutters fastened, Fenya? And we must draw the curtains—that’s better! He’d rush in at once if he saw a light. I am afraid of your brother Mitya to‐day, Alyosha.


Why are you so afraid of Mitya to‐day? I should have thought you were not timid with him, you’d twist him round your little finger.


I tell you, I am expecting news, priceless news, so I don’t want Mitya at all. And he didn’t believe, I feel he didn’t, that I should stay at Kuzma Kuzmitch’s. He must be in his ambush now, behind Fyodor Pavlovitch’s, in the garden, watching for me. And if he’s there, he won’t come here, so much the better! But I really have been to Kuzma Kuzmitch’s, Mitya escorted me there. I told him I should stay there till midnight, and I asked him to be sure to come at midnight to fetch me home. He went away and I sat ten minutes with Kuzma Kuzmitch and came back here again. Ugh, I was afraid, I ran for fear of meeting him.


And why are you so dressed up? What a curious cap you’ve got on!


How curious you are yourself, Rakitin! I tell you, I am expecting a message. If the message comes, I shall fly, I shall gallop away and you will see no more of me. That’s why I am dressed up, so as to be ready.


And where are you flying to?


If you know too much, you’ll get old too soon.


Upon my word! You are highly delighted ... I’ve never seen you like this before. You are dressed up as if you were going to a ball.


Much you know about balls.


And do you know much about them?


I have seen a ball. The year before last, Kuzma Kuzmitch’s son was married and I looked on from the gallery. Do you suppose I want to be talking to you, Rakitin, while a prince like this is standing here. Such a visitor! Alyosha, my dear boy, I gaze at you and can’t believe my eyes. Good heavens, can you have come here to see me! To tell you the truth, I never had a thought of seeing you and I didn’t think that you would ever come and see me. Though this is not the moment now, I am awfully glad to see you. Sit down on the sofa, here, that’s right, my bright young moon. I really can’t take it in even now.... Eh, Rakitin, if only you had brought him yesterday or the day before! But I am glad as it is! Perhaps it’s better he has come now, at such a moment, and not the day before yesterday.


Dear me, how everything comes together to‐day! And why I am so glad to see you, Alyosha, I couldn’t say myself! If you ask me, I couldn’t tell you.


Come, don’t you know why you’re glad? You used to be always pestering me to bring him, you’d some object, I suppose.


I had a different object once, but now that’s over, this is not the moment. I say, I want you to have something nice. I am so good‐natured now. You sit down, too, Rakitin; why are you standing? You’ve sat down already? There’s no fear of Rakitin’s forgetting to look after himself. Look, Alyosha, he’s sitting there opposite us, so offended that I didn’t ask him to sit down before you. Ugh, Rakitin is such a one to take offense! Don’t be angry, Rakitin, I’m kind to‐day. Why are you so depressed, Alyosha? Are you afraid of me?


He’s sad. The promotion has not been given,


What promotion?


His elder stinks.


What? You are talking some nonsense, you want to say something nasty. Be quiet, you stupid! Let me sit on your knee, Alyosha, like this. I’ll cheer you up, my pious boy. Yes, really, will you let me sit on your knee? You won’t be angry? If you tell me, I’ll get off?


You’ve talked nonsense enough, you’d much better give us some champagne. You owe it me, you know you do!


Yes, I really do. Do you know, Alyosha, I promised him champagne on the top of everything, if he’d bring you? I’ll have some too! Fenya, Fenya, bring us the bottle Mitya left! Look sharp! Though I am so stingy, I’ll stand a bottle, not for you, Rakitin, you’re a toadstool, but he is a falcon! And though my heart is full of something very different, so be it, I’ll drink with you. I long for some dissipation.


But what is the matter with you? And what is this message, may I ask, or is it a secret?


Ech, it’s not a secret, and you know it, too. My officer is coming, Rakitin, my officer is coming. I heard he was coming, but is he so near?


He is at Mokroe now; he’ll send a messenger from there, so he wrote; I got a letter from him to‐day. I am expecting the messenger every minute.


You don’t say so! Why at Mokroe?


That’s a long story, I’ve told you enough.


Mitya’ll be up to something now—I say! Does he know or doesn’t he?


He know! Of course he doesn’t. If he knew, there would be murder. But I am not afraid of that now, I am not afraid of his knife. Be quiet, Rakitin, don’t remind me of Dmitri Fyodorovitch, he has bruised my heart. And I don’t want to think of that at this moment. I can think of Alyosha here, I can look at Alyosha ... smile at me, dear, cheer up, smile at my foolishness, at my pleasure.... Ah, he’s smiling, he’s smiling! How kindly he looks at me! And you know, Alyosha, I’ve been thinking all this time you were angry with me, because of the day before yesterday, because of that young lady. I was a cur, that’s the truth.... But it’s a good thing it happened so. It was a horrid thing, but a good thing too.


Mitya told me that she screamed out that I ‘ought to be flogged.’ I did insult her dreadfully. She sent for me, she wanted to make a conquest of me, to win me over with her chocolate.... No, it’s a good thing it did end like that. But I am still afraid of your being angry.


Yes, that’s really true. Alyosha, she is really afraid of a chicken like you.


He is a chicken to you, Rakitin ... because you’ve no conscience, that’s what it is! You see, I love him with all my soul, that’s how it is! Alyosha, do you believe I love you with all my soul?


Ah, you shameless woman! She is making you a declaration, Alexey!


Well, what of it, I love him!


And what about your officer? And the priceless message from Mokroe?


That is quite different.


That’s a woman’s way of looking at it!


Don’t you make me angry, Rakitin. This is quite different. I love Alyosha in a different way. It’s true, Alyosha, I had sly designs on you before. For I am a horrid, violent creature. But at other times I’ve looked upon you, Alyosha, as my conscience. I’ve kept thinking ‘how any one like that must despise a nasty thing like me.’ I thought that the day before yesterday, as I ran home from the young lady’s. I have thought of you a long time in that way, Alyosha, and Mitya knows, I’ve talked to him about it. Mitya understands. Would you believe it, I sometimes look at you and feel ashamed, utterly ashamed of myself.... And how, and since when, I began to think about you like that, I can’t say, I don’t remember....


Here’s the champagne! You’re excited, Agrafena Alexandrovna, and not yourself. When you’ve had a glass of champagne, you’ll be ready to dance. Eh, they can’t even do that properly, the old woman’s poured it out in the kitchen and the bottle’s been brought in warm and without a cork. Well, let me have some, anyway. One doesn’t often stumble upon champagne. Now, Alyosha, take a glass, show what you can do! What shall we drink to? The gates of paradise? Take a glass, Grushenka, you drink to the gates of paradise, too.


What gates of paradise?


No, I’d better not,


And you bragged!


Well, if so, I won’t either. I really don’t want any. You can drink the whole bottle alone, Rakitin. If Alyosha has some, I will.


What touching sentimentality! and she’s sitting on his knee, too! He’s got something to grieve over, but what’s the matter with you? He is rebelling against his God and ready to eat sausage.... His elder died to‐day, Father Zossima, the saint.


So Father Zossima is dead. Good God, I did not know! Goodness, what have I been doing, sitting on his knee like this at such a moment!


Rakitin, don’t taunt me with having rebelled against God. I don’t want to feel angry with you, so you must be kinder, too, I’ve lost a treasure such as you have never had, and you cannot judge me now. You had much better look at her—do you see how she has pity on me? I came here to find a wicked soul—I felt drawn to evil because I was base and evil myself, and I’ve found a true sister, I have found a treasure—a loving heart. She had pity on me just now.... Agrafena Alexandrovna, I am speaking of you. You’ve raised my soul from the depths.


Stay, Rakitin. Hush, both of you. Now I’ll tell you all about it. Hush, Alyosha, your words make me ashamed, for I am bad and not good—that’s what I am. And you hush, Rakitin, because you are telling lies. I had the low idea of trying to get him in my clutches, but now you are lying, now it’s all different. And don’t let me hear anything more from you, Rakitin.


They are both crazy. I feel as though I were in a madhouse. They’re both getting so feeble they’ll begin crying in a minute.


I shall begin to cry, I shall. He called me his sister and I shall never forget that. Only let me tell you, Rakitin, though I am bad, I did give away an onion.


An onion? Hang it all, you really are crazy.


You see, Alyosha. I was boasting when I told Rakitin I had given away an onion, but it’s not to boast I tell you about it. It’s only a story, but it’s a nice story. I used to hear it when I was a child from Matryona, my cook, who is still with me. It’s like this. Once upon a time there was a peasant woman and a very wicked woman she was. And she died and did not leave a single good deed behind. The devils caught her and plunged her into the lake of fire. So her guardian angel stood and wondered what good deed of hers he could remember to tell to God; ‘She once pulled up an onion in her garden,’ said he, ‘and gave it to a beggar woman.’ And God answered: ‘You take that onion then, hold it out to her in the lake, and let her take hold and be pulled out. And if you can pull her out of the lake, let her come to Paradise, but if the onion breaks, then the woman must stay where she is.’ The angel ran to the woman and held out the onion to her. ‘Come,’ said he, ‘catch hold and I’ll pull you out.’ And he began cautiously pulling her out. He had just pulled her right out, when the other sinners in the lake, seeing how she was being drawn out, began catching hold of her so as to be pulled out with her. But she was a very wicked woman and she began kicking them. ‘I’m to be pulled out, not you. It’s my onion, not yours.’ As soon as she said that, the onion broke. And the woman fell into the lake and she is burning there to this day. So the angel wept and went away. So that’s the story, Alyosha; I know it by heart, for I am that wicked woman myself. I boasted to Rakitin that I had given away an onion, but to you I’ll say: ‘I’ve done nothing but give away one onion all my life, that’s the only good deed I’ve done.’ So don’t praise me, Alyosha, don’t think me good, I am bad, I am a wicked woman and you make me ashamed if you praise me. Eh, I must confess everything. Listen, Alyosha. I was so anxious to get hold of you that I promised Rakitin twenty‐five roubles if he would bring you to me. Stay, Rakitin, wait! Take it. Rakitin, I owe it you, there’s no fear of your refusing it, you asked for it yourself.


Likely I should refuse it. That will come in very handy; fools are made for wise men’s profit.


And now hold your tongue, Rakitin, what I am going to say now is not for your ears. Sit down in that corner and keep quiet. You don’t like us, so hold your tongue.


What should I like you for?


You should love people without a reason, as Alyosha does.


How does he love you? How has he shown it, that you make such a fuss about it?


Hush, Rakitin, you know nothing about us! And don’t dare to speak to me like that again. How dare you be so familiar! Sit in that corner and be quiet, as though you were my footman! And now, Alyosha, I’ll tell you the whole truth, that you may see what a wretch I am! I am not talking to Rakitin, but to you. I wanted to ruin you, Alyosha, that’s the holy truth; I quite meant to. I wanted to so much, that I bribed Rakitin to bring you. And why did I want to do such a thing? You knew nothing about it, Alyosha, you turned away from me; if you passed me, you dropped your eyes. And I’ve looked at you a hundred times before to‐day; I began asking every one about you. Your face haunted my heart. ‘He despises me,’ I thought; ‘he won’t even look at me.’ And I felt it so much at last that I wondered at myself for being so frightened of a boy. I’ll get him in my clutches and laugh at him. I was full of spite and anger. Would you believe it, nobody here dares talk or think of coming to Agrafena Alexandrovna with any evil purpose. Old Kuzma is the only man I have anything to do with here; I was bound and sold to him; Satan brought us together, but there has been no one else. But looking at you, I thought, I’ll get him in my clutches and laugh at him. You see what a spiteful cur I am, and you called me your sister! And now that man who wronged me has come; I sit here waiting for a message from him. And do you know what that man has been to me? Five years ago, when Kuzma brought me here, I used to shut myself up, that no one might have sight or sound of me. I was a silly slip of a girl; I used to sit here sobbing; I used to lie awake all night, thinking: ‘Where is he now, the man who wronged me? He is laughing at me with another woman, most likely. If only I could see him, if I could meet him again, I’d pay him out, I’d pay him out!’ At night I used to lie sobbing into my pillow in the dark, and I used to brood over it; I used to tear my heart on purpose and gloat over my anger. ‘I’ll pay him out, I’ll pay him out!’ That’s what I used to cry out in the dark. And when I suddenly thought that I should really do nothing to him, and that he was laughing at me then, or perhaps had utterly forgotten me, I would fling myself on the floor, melt into helpless tears, and lie there shaking till dawn. In the morning I would get up more spiteful than a dog, ready to tear the whole world to pieces. And then what do you think? I began saving money, I became hard‐hearted, grew stout—grew wiser, would you say? No, no one in the whole world sees it, no one knows it, but when night comes on, I sometimes lie as I did five years ago, when I was a silly girl, clenching my teeth and crying all night, thinking, ‘I’ll pay him out, I’ll pay him out!’ Do you hear? Well then, now you understand me. A month ago a letter came to me—he was coming, he was a widower, he wanted to see me. It took my breath away; then I suddenly thought: ‘If he comes and whistles to call me, I shall creep back to him like a beaten dog.’ I couldn’t believe myself. Am I so abject? Shall I run to him or not? And I’ve been in such a rage with myself all this month that I am worse than I was five years ago. Do you see now, Alyosha, what a violent, vindictive creature I am? I have shown you the whole truth! I played with Mitya to keep me from running to that other. Hush, Rakitin, it’s not for you to judge me, I am not speaking to you. Before you came in, I was lying here waiting, brooding, deciding my whole future life, and you can never know what was in my heart. Yes, Alyosha, tell your young lady not to be angry with me for what happened the day before yesterday.... Nobody in the whole world knows what I am going through now, and no one ever can know.... For perhaps I shall take a knife with me to‐day, I can’t make up my mind ...


Misha, don’t be angry. She wounded you, but don’t be angry. You heard what she said just now? You mustn’t ask too much of human endurance, one must be merciful.


You were so primed up with your elder’s teaching last night that now you have to let it off on me, Alexey, man of God!


Don’t laugh, Rakitin, don’t smile, don’t talk of the dead—he was better than any one in the world! I didn’t speak to you as a judge but as the lowest of the judged. What am I beside her? I came here seeking my ruin, and said to myself, ‘What does it matter?’ in my cowardliness, but she, after five years in torment, as soon as any one says a word from the heart to her—it makes her forget everything, forgive everything, in her tears! The man who has wronged her has come back, he sends for her and she forgives him everything, and hastens joyfully to meet him and she won’t take a knife with her. She won’t! No, I am not like that. I don’t know whether you are, Misha, but I am not like that. It’s a lesson to me.... She is more loving than we.... Have you heard her speak before of what she has just told us? No, you haven’t; if you had, you’d have understood her long ago ... and the person insulted the day before yesterday must forgive her, too! She will, when she knows ... and she shall know.... This soul is not yet at peace with itself, one must be tender with it ... there may be a treasure in that soul....


She’s found some one to plead her cause! Why, are you in love with her? Agrafena Alexandrovna, our monk’s really in love with you, you’ve made a conquest!


Let him alone, Alyosha, my cherub; you see what he is, he is not a person for you to speak to. Mihail Osipovitch. I meant to beg your pardon for being rude to you, but now I don’t want to. Alyosha, come to me, sit down here. That’s right, sit here. Tell me, tell me, do I love that man or not? the man who wronged me, do I love him or not? Before you came, I lay here in the dark, asking my heart whether I loved him. Decide for me, Alyosha, the time has come, it shall be as you say. Am I to forgive him or not?


But you have forgiven him already,


Yes, I really have forgiven him. What an abject heart! To my abject heart! Perhaps I haven’t forgiven him, though. Perhaps my heart is only getting ready to forgive. I shall struggle with my heart. You see, Alyosha, I’ve grown to love my tears in these five years.... Perhaps I only love my resentment, not him ...


Well, I shouldn’t care to be in his shoes,


Well, you won’t be, Rakitin, you’ll never be in his shoes. You shall black my shoes, Rakitin, that’s the place you are fit for. You’ll never get a woman like me ... and he won’t either, perhaps ...


Won’t he? Then why are you dressed up like that?


Don’t taunt me with dressing up, Rakitin, you don’t know all that is in my heart! If I choose to tear off my finery, I’ll tear it off at once, this minute. You don’t know what that finery is for, Rakitin! Perhaps I shall see him and say: ‘Have you ever seen me look like this before?’ He left me a thin, consumptive cry‐baby of seventeen. I’ll sit by him, fascinate him and work him up. ‘Do you see what I am like now?’ I’ll say to him; ‘well, and that’s enough for you, my dear sir, there’s many a slip twixt the cup and the lip!’ That may be what the finery is for, Rakitin. I’m violent and resentful, Alyosha, I’ll tear off my finery, I’ll destroy my beauty, I’ll scorch my face, slash it with a knife, and turn beggar. If I choose, I won’t go anywhere now to see any one. If I choose, I’ll send Kuzma back all he has ever given me, to‐morrow, and all his money and I’ll go out charing for the rest of my life. You think I wouldn’t do it, Rakitin, that I would not dare to do it? I would, I would, I could do it directly, only don’t exasperate me ... and I’ll send him about his business, I’ll snap my fingers in his face, he shall never see me again!


It’s time we were off,


Surely you don’t want to go, Alyosha!


He can hardly spend the night with you! Though if he wants to, let him! I’ll go alone,


Hush, evil tongue!


What has he said to you so special?


I can’t say, I don’t know. I don’t know what he said to me, it went straight to my heart; he has wrung my heart.... He is the first, the only one who has pitied me, that’s what it is. Why did you not come before, you angel? I’ve been waiting all my life for some one like you, I knew that some one like you would come and forgive me. I believed that, nasty as I am, some one would really love me, not only with a shameful love!


What have I done to you?


Mistress, mistress darling, a messenger has galloped up. A carriage from Mokroe for you, Timofey the driver, with three horses, they are just putting in fresh horses.... A letter, here’s the letter, mistress.


He has sent for me. I will go, five years of my life! Good‐by! Good‐by, Alyosha, my fate is sealed. Go, go, leave me all of you, don’t let me see you again! Grushenka is flying to a new life.... Don’t you remember evil against me either, Rakitin. I may be going to my death! Ugh! I feel as though I were drunk!


Well, she has no thoughts for us now!


Alyosha, give my greetings to your brother Mitya and tell him not to remember evil against me, though I have brought him misery. And tell him, too, in my words: ‘Grushenka has fallen to a scoundrel, and not to you, noble heart.’ And add, too, that Grushenka loved him only one hour, only one short hour she loved him—so let him remember that hour all his life—say, ‘Grushenka tells you to!’


H’m, h’m! she murders your brother Mitya and then tells him to remember it all his life! What ferocity! He is a Pole, that officer of hers. Well, so you’ve saved the sinner?


Hush, Rakitin,


So you despise me now for those twenty‐five roubles? I’ve sold my friend, you think. But you are not Christ, you know, and I am not Judas.


Oh, Rakitin, I assure you I’d forgotten about it,


Damnation take you all and each of you!


And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee; And the mother of Jesus was there; And both Jesus was called, and his disciples, to the marriage.


Marriage? What’s that?... A marriage! There is happiness for her, too.... She has gone to the feast.... No, she has not taken the knife.... That was only a tragic phrase.... Well ... tragic phrases should be forgiven, they must be. Tragic phrases comfort the heart.... Without them, sorrow would be too heavy for men to bear. Rakitin has gone off to the back alley. As long as Rakitin broods over his wrongs, he will always go off to the back alley.... But the high road ... The road is wide and straight and bright as crystal, and the sun is at the end of it.... Ah!... What’s being read?


And when they wanted wine, the mother of Jesus saith unto him, They have no wine


Ah, yes, I was missing that, and I didn’t want to miss it, I love that passage: it’s Cana of Galilee, the first miracle.... Ah, that miracle! Ah, that sweet miracle! It was not men’s grief, but their joy Christ visited, He worked His first miracle to help men’s gladness.... ‘He who loves men loves their gladness, too’ ... He was always repeating that, it was one of his leading ideas.... ‘There’s no living without joy,’ Mitya says.... Yes, Mitya.... ‘Everything that is true and good is always full of forgiveness,’ he used to say that, too


Jesus saith unto her, Woman, what has it to do with thee or me? Mine hour is not yet come. His mother saith unto the servants, Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it


Do it.... Gladness, the gladness of some poor, very poor, people.... Of course they were poor, since they hadn’t wine enough even at a wedding.... The historians write that, in those days, the people living about the Lake of Gennesaret were the poorest that can possibly be imagined ... and another great heart, that other great being, His Mother, knew that He had come not only to make His great terrible sacrifice. She knew that His heart was open even to the simple, artless merrymaking of some obscure and unlearned people, who had warmly bidden Him to their poor wedding. ‘Mine hour is not yet come,’ He said, with a soft smile (He must have smiled gently to her). And, indeed, was it to make wine abundant at poor weddings He had come down to earth? And yet He went and did as she asked Him.... Ah, he is reading again


Jesus saith unto them, Fill the waterpots with water. And they filled them up to the brim. And he saith unto them, Draw out now and bear unto the governor of the feast. And they bare it. When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, and knew not whence it was; (but the servants which drew the water knew;) the governor of the feast called the bridegroom. And saith unto him, Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; and when men have well drunk, that which is worse; but thou hast kept the good wine until now.


But what’s this, what’s this? Why is the room growing wider?... Ah, yes ... It’s the marriage, the wedding ... yes, of course. Here are the guests, here are the young couple sitting, and the merry crowd and ... Where is the wise governor of the feast? But who is this? Who? Again the walls are receding.... Who is getting up there from the great table? What!... He here, too? But he’s in the coffin ... but he’s here, too. He has stood up, he sees me, he is coming here.... God!


Yes, my dear, I am called, too, called and bidden. Why have you hidden yourself here, out of sight? You come and join us too. We are rejoicing. We are drinking the new wine, the wine of new, great gladness; do you see how many guests? Here are the bride and bridegroom, here is the wise governor of the feast, he is tasting the new wine. Why do you wonder at me? I gave an onion to a beggar, so I, too, am here. And many here have given only an onion each—only one little onion.... What are all our deeds? And you, my gentle one, you, my kind boy, you too have known how to give a famished woman an onion to‐day. Begin your work, dear one, begin it, gentle one!... Do you see our Sun, do you see Him?


I am afraid ... I dare not look,


Do not fear Him. He is terrible in His greatness, awful in His sublimity, but infinitely merciful. He has made Himself like unto us from love and rejoices with us. He is changing the water into wine that the gladness of the guests may not be cut short. He is expecting new guests, He is calling new ones unceasingly for ever and ever.... There they are bringing new wine. Do you see they are bringing the vessels....


Water the earth with the tears of your joy and love those tears, he was not ashamed of that ecstasy. in contact with other worlds. And others are praying for me too,


Some one visited my soul in that hour,


sojourn in the world.


I’ve been a scoundrel to one of them, and I shall be a scoundrel again to the other directly, and when Grushenka knows, she won’t care for such a scoundrel.


What is it you want of me, sir?


Most honored sir, Kuzma Kuzmitch, you have no doubt heard more than once of my disputes with my father, Fyodor Pavlovitch Karamazov, who robbed me of my inheritance from my mother ... seeing the whole town is gossiping about it ... for here every one’s gossiping of what they shouldn’t ... and besides, it might have reached you through Grushenka ... I beg your pardon, through Agrafena Alexandrovna ... Agrafena Alexandrovna, the lady for whom I have the highest respect and esteem ... a distinguished lawyer, Kuzma Kuzmitch, Pavel Pavlovitch Korneplodov. You have perhaps heard of him? A man of vast intellect, the mind of a statesman ... he knows you, too ... spoke of you in the highest terms ...


because every door was not closed and justice might still find a loophole. thirty, thirty, Kuzma Kuzmitch, and would you believe it, I didn’t get seventeen from that heartless man! so will not you, excellent and honored Kuzma Kuzmitch, be willing to take up all my claims against that unnatural monster, and pay me a sum down of only three thousand?... You see, you cannot, in any case, lose over it. On my honor, my honor, I swear that. Quite the contrary, you may make six or seven thousand instead of three. I’ll do the business with you at a notary’s, or whatever it is ... in fact, I’m ready to do anything.... I’ll hand over all the deeds ... whatever you want, sign anything ... and we could draw up the agreement at once ... and if it were possible, if it were only possible, that very morning.... You could pay me that three thousand, for there isn’t a capitalist in this town to compare with you, and so would save me from ... would save me, in fact ... for a good, I might say an honorable action.... For I cherish the most honorable feelings for a certain person, whom you know well, and care for as a father. I would not have come, indeed, if it had not been as a father. And, indeed, it’s a struggle of three in this business, for it’s fate—that’s a fearful thing, Kuzma Kuzmitch! A tragedy, Kuzma Kuzmitch, a tragedy! And as you’ve dropped out long ago, it’s a tug‐ of‐war between two. I’m expressing it awkwardly, perhaps, but I’m not a literary man. You see, I’m on the one side, and that monster on the other. So you must choose. It’s either I or the monster. It all lies in your hands—the fate of three lives, and the happiness of two.... Excuse me, I’m making a mess of it, but you understand ... I see from your venerable eyes that you understand ... and if you don’t understand, I’m done for ... so you see!


Excuse me, we don’t undertake such business.


What am I to do now, Kuzma Kuzmitch? I suppose it’s all up with me—what do you think?


Excuse me.... You see, sir, business of that sort’s not in our line. There’s the court, and the lawyers—it’s a perfect misery. But if you like, there is a man here you might apply to.


Good heavens! Who is it? You’re my salvation, Kuzma Kuzmitch,


He doesn’t live here, and he’s not here just now. He is a peasant, he does business in timber. His name is Lyagavy. He’s been haggling with Fyodor Pavlovitch for the last year, over your copse at Tchermashnya. They can’t agree on the price, maybe you’ve heard? Now he’s come back again and is staying with the priest at Ilyinskoe, about twelve versts from the Volovya station. He wrote to me, too, about the business of the copse, asking my advice. Fyodor Pavlovitch means to go and see him himself. So if you were to be beforehand with Fyodor Pavlovitch and to make Lyagavy the offer you’ve made me, he might possibly—


A brilliant idea! He’s the very man, it would just suit him. He’s haggling with him for it, being asked too much, and here he would have all the documents entitling him to the property itself. Ha ha ha! How can I thank you, Kuzma Kuzmitch?


Don’t mention it,


But you don’t know, you’ve saved me. Oh, it was a true presentiment brought me to you.... So now to this priest!


No need of thanks.


I’ll make haste and fly there. I’m afraid I’ve overtaxed your strength. I shall never forget it. It’s a Russian says that, Kuzma Kuzmitch, a R-r- russian!


To be sure!


For her sake! For her sake, Kuzma Kuzmitch! You understand that it’s for her,


And I didn’t expect that,


I must, I must get back to-night, and I dare say I shall have to bring this Lyagavy back here ... to draw up the deed.


I don’t know. Ah, I can’t say. How can I tell? or you’ll do nothing with him; he won’t even listen to you,


Of course I must wake him. My business is too important. I’ve come in such haste. I’m in a hurry to get back to-day. He’s drunk. Good Lord! What am I to do? What am I to do?


No, you’d better wait a little, for he’s obviously not in a fit state.


He’s been drinking the whole day,


Good heavens! If only you knew how important it is to me and how desperate I am!


No, you’d better wait till morning,


Till morning? Mercy! that’s impossible! What terrible tragedies real life contrives for people,


And your business is important, so you’d certainly better put it off till morning.


Father, I will stay here with a light, and seize the favorable moment. As soon as he wakes I’ll begin. I’ll pay you for the light, for the night’s lodging, too; you’ll remember Dmitri Karamazov. Only, Father, I don’t know what we’re to do with you. Where will you sleep?


No, I’m going home. I’ll take his horse and get home. And now I’ll say good‐by. I wish you all success.


It’s a tragedy!


Oh, the irony of fate! Stupid! Stupid! And how dishonorable it all is! Should he fling it up and go away altogether? No, wait till to‐morrow now. I’ll stay on purpose. What else did I come for? Besides, I’ve no means of going. How am I to get away from here now? Oh, the idiocy of it!


But he’s dead, he’s dead! and ... what am I to do then?


It’ll be all right, now.


Excuse me, you see ... I ... you’ve most likely heard from the forester here in the hut. I’m Lieutenant Dmitri Karamazov, the son of the old Karamazov whose copse you are buying.


That’s a lie!


A lie? You know Fyodor Pavlovitch?


I don’t know any of your Fyodor Pavlovitches,


You’re bargaining with him for the copse, for the copse. Do wake up, and collect yourself. Father Pavel of Ilyinskoe brought me here. You wrote to Samsonov, and he has sent me to you,


You’re l‐lying!


For mercy’s sake! It isn’t a joke! You’re drunk, perhaps. Yet you can speak and understand ... or else ... I understand nothing!


You’re a painter!


For mercy’s sake! I’m Karamazov, Dmitri Karamazov. I have an offer to make you, an advantageous offer ... very advantageous offer, concerning the copse!


No, you’ve contracted for the job and turned out a scamp. You’re a scoundrel!


I assure you you’re mistaken,


No, you show me this: you tell me the law that allows roguery. D’you hear? You’re a scoundrel! Do you understand that?


What despair! What death all round!


And to think, only to think that a man’s life should be ruined for the sake of that paltry three thousand! I’ll settle it to‐ day.


If she is so anxious I should not marry Katerina Ivanovna why should she refuse me now that three thousand, just to enable me to leave Katya and get away from her for ever. These spoilt fine ladies, if they set their hearts on anything, will spare no expense to satisfy their caprice. Besides, she’s so rich,


rob and murder some one for the three thousand. As though she were waiting for me,


I was expecting you! I was expecting you! Though I’d no reason to suppose you would come to see me, as you will admit yourself. Yet, I did expect you. You may marvel at my instinct, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, but I was convinced all the morning that you would come.


That is certainly wonderful, madam, but I have come to you on a matter of great importance.... On a matter of supreme importance for me, that is, madam ... for me alone ... and I hasten—


I know you’ve come on most important business, Dmitri Fyodorovitch; it’s not a case of presentiment, no reactionary harking back to the miraculous (have you heard about Father Zossima?). This is a case of mathematics: you couldn’t help coming, after all that has passed with Katerina Ivanovna; you couldn’t, you couldn’t, that’s a mathematical certainty.


The realism of actual life, madam, that’s what it is. But allow me to explain—


Realism indeed, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. I’m all for realism now. I’ve seen too much of miracles. You’ve heard that Father Zossima is dead?


No, madam, it’s the first time I’ve heard of it.


Last night, and only imagine—


Madam. I can imagine nothing except that I’m in a desperate position, and that if you don’t help me, everything will come to grief, and I first of all. Excuse me for the triviality of the expression, but I’m in a fever—


I know, I know that you’re in a fever. You could hardly fail to be, and whatever you may say to me, I know beforehand. I have long been thinking over your destiny, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, I am watching over it and studying it.... Oh, believe me, I’m an experienced doctor of the soul, Dmitri Fyodorovitch.


Madam, if you are an experienced doctor, I’m certainly an experienced patient, and I feel that if you are watching over my destiny in this way, you will come to my help in my ruin, and so allow me, at least to explain to you the plan with which I have ventured to come to you ... and what I am hoping of you.... I have come, madam—


Don’t explain it. It’s of secondary importance. But as for help, you’re not the first I have helped, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. You have most likely heard of my cousin, Madame Belmesov. Her husband was ruined, ‘had come to grief,’ as you characteristically express it, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. I recommended him to take to horse‐breeding, and now he’s doing well. Have you any idea of horse‐breeding, Dmitri Fyodorovitch?


Not the faintest, madam; ah, madam, not the faintest! I simply implore you, madam, to listen to me. Only give me two minutes of free speech that I may just explain to you everything, the whole plan with which I have come. Besides, I am short of time. I’m in a fearful hurry. I have come in despair ... in the last gasp of despair, to beg you to lend me the sum of three thousand, a loan, but on safe, most safe security, madam, with the most trustworthy guarantees! Only let me explain—


You must tell me all that afterwards, afterwards! and whatever you may tell me, I know it all beforehand; I’ve told you so already. You ask for a certain sum, for three thousand, but I can give you more, immeasurably more, I will save you, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, but you must listen to me.


Madam, will you really be so good! Good God, you’ve saved me! You have saved a man from a violent death, from a bullet.... My eternal gratitude—


I will give you more, infinitely more than three thousand!


Infinitely? But I don’t need so much. I only need that fatal three thousand, and on my part I can give security for that sum with infinite gratitude, and I propose a plan which—


Enough, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, it’s said and done. I have promised to save you, and I will save you. I will save you as I did Belmesov. What do you think of the gold‐mines, Dmitri Fyodorovitch?


Of the gold‐mines, madam? I have never thought anything about them.


But I have thought of them for you. Thought of them over and over again. I have been watching you for the last month. I’ve watched you a hundred times as you’ve walked past, saying to myself: that’s a man of energy who ought to be at the gold‐mines. I’ve studied your gait and come to the conclusion: that’s a man who would find gold.


From my gait, madam?


Yes, from your gait. You surely don’t deny that character can be told from the gait, Dmitri Fyodorovitch? Science supports the idea. I’m all for science and realism now. After all this business with Father Zossima, which has so upset me, from this very day I’m a realist and I want to devote myself to practical usefulness. I’m cured. ‘Enough!’ as Turgenev says.


But, madam, the three thousand you so generously promised to lend me—


It is yours, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. The money is as good as in your pocket, not three thousand, but three million, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, in less than no time. I’ll make you a present of the idea: you shall find gold‐mines, make millions, return and become a leading man, and wake us up and lead us to better things. Are we to leave it all to the Jews? You will found institutions and enterprises of all sorts. You will help the poor, and they will bless you. This is the age of railways, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. You’ll become famous and indispensable to the Department of Finance, which is so badly off at present. The depreciation of the rouble keeps me awake at night, Dmitri Fyodorovitch; people don’t know that side of me—


Madam, madam! I shall indeed, perhaps, follow your advice, your wise advice, madam.... I shall perhaps set off ... to the gold‐mines.... I’ll come and see you again about it ... many times, indeed ... but now, that three thousand you so generously ... oh, that would set me free, and if you could to‐day ... you see, I haven’t a minute, a minute to lose to‐day—


Enough, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, enough! The question is, will you go to the gold‐mines or not; have you quite made up your mind? Answer yes or no.


I will go, madam, afterwards.... I’ll go where you like ... but now—


Wait!


The three thousand, and at the instant ... without any papers or formalities ... that’s doing things in gentlemanly style! She’s a splendid woman, if only she didn’t talk so much!


Here! here is what I was looking for! This is from Kiev, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, from the relics of the Holy Martyr, Varvara. Let me put it on your neck myself, and with it dedicate you to a new life, to a new career. Now you can set off,


Madam, I am so touched. I don’t know how to thank you, indeed ... for such kindness, but ... If only you knew how precious time is to me.... That sum of money, for which I shall be indebted to your generosity.... Oh, madam, since you are so kind, so touchingly generous to me, then let me reveal to you ... though, of course, you’ve known it a long time ... that I love somebody here.... I have been false to Katya ... Katerina Ivanovna I should say.... Oh, I’ve behaved inhumanly, dishonorably to her, but I fell in love here with another woman ... a woman whom you, madam, perhaps, despise, for you know everything already, but whom I cannot leave on any account, and therefore that three thousand now—


Leave everything, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. Leave everything, especially women. Gold‐mines are your goal, and there’s no place for women there. Afterwards, when you come back rich and famous, you will find the girl of your heart in the highest society. That will be a modern girl, a girl of education and advanced ideas. By that time the dawning woman question will have gained ground, and the new woman will have appeared.


Madam, that’s not the point, not at all.... Yes, it is, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, just what you need; the very thing you’re yearning for, though you don’t realize it yourself. I am not at all opposed to the present woman movement, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. The development of woman, and even the political emancipation of woman in the near future—that’s my ideal. I’ve a daughter myself, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, people don’t know that side of me. I wrote a letter to the author, Shtchedrin, on that subject. He has taught me so much, so much about the vocation of woman. So last year I sent him an anonymous letter of two lines: ‘I kiss and embrace you, my teacher, for the modern woman. Persevere.’ And I signed myself, ‘A Mother.’ I thought of signing myself ‘A contemporary Mother,’ and hesitated, but I stuck to the simple ‘Mother’; there’s more moral beauty in that, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. And the word ‘contemporary’ might have reminded him of ‘The Contemporary’—a painful recollection owing to the censorship.... Good Heavens, what is the matter! Madam! You will make me weep if you delay what you have so generously—


Oh, do weep, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, do weep! That’s a noble feeling ... such a path lies open before you! Tears will ease your heart, and later on you will return rejoicing. You will hasten to me from Siberia on purpose to share your joy with me—


But allow me, too! For the last time I entreat you, tell me, can I have the sum you promised me to‐day, if not, when may I come for it?


What sum, Dmitri Fyodorovitch?


The three thousand you promised me ... that you so generously—


Three thousand? Roubles? Oh, no, I haven’t got three thousand. Why, you said just now ... you said ... you said it was as good as in my hands— Oh, no, you misunderstood me, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. In that case you misunderstood me. I was talking of the gold‐mines. It’s true I promised you more, infinitely more than three thousand, I remember it all now, but I was referring to the gold‐mines.


But the money? The three thousand?


Oh, if you meant money, I haven’t any. I haven’t a penny, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. I’m quarreling with my steward about it, and I’ve just borrowed five hundred roubles from Miüsov, myself. No, no, I’ve no money. And, do you know, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, if I had, I wouldn’t give it to you. In the first place I never lend money. Lending money means losing friends. And I wouldn’t give it to you particularly. I wouldn’t give it you, because I like you and want to save you, for all you need is the gold‐mines, the gold‐mines, the gold‐mines!


Oh, the devil!


Aie! Aie!


Good Lord, you’ve nearly killed me! Why don’t you look where you’re going, scapegrace?


Why, it’s you! Tell me, my good woman, is Agrafena Alexandrovna there now?


She has been there, sir. She stayed a little while, and went off again.


What? Went away?


Why, as soon as she came. She only stayed a minute. She only told Kuzma Kuzmitch a tale that made him laugh, and then she ran away.


You’re lying, damn you!


You scream?


where is she? Fenya, for Christ’s sake, tell me, where is she?


I don’t know. Dmitri Fyodorovitch, my dear, I don’t know. You may kill me but I can’t tell you. You went out with her yourself not long ago—


She came back!


Indeed she didn’t. By God I swear she didn’t come back.


You’re lying!


Oh, Lord! He’s going to murder some one!


How red the whitebeam berries are!


Grushenka, is it you? Is it you? Where are you, my angel, where are you? Where are you? Come here, I’ve a little present for you. Come, I’ll show you.... But where are you? Are you at the door? I’ll open it directly.


How can you say you’ll kill our father?


I don’t know, I don’t know. Perhaps I shall not kill him, perhaps I shall. I’m afraid he’ll suddenly be so loathsome to me at that moment. I hate his double chin, his nose, his eyes, his shameless grin. I feel a personal repulsion. That’s what I’m afraid of, that’s what may be too much for me.


Good Lord!


Parricide!


You’ve come to grief, old man, so there you must lie!


not to let the captain in again to‐day or to‐morrow.


Agrafena Alexandrovna is not at home now, you know.


Where is she then, Prohor?


She set off this evening, some two hours ago, with Timofey, to Mokroe.


What for?


That I can’t say. To see some officer. Some one invited her and horses were sent to fetch her.


Speak at once! Where is she? With whom is she now, at Mokroe?


Aie! I’ll tell you. Aie! Dmitri Fyodorovitch, darling, I’ll tell you everything directly, I won’t hide anything, she’s gone to Mokroe, to her officer.


What officer?


To her officer, the same one she used to know, the one who threw her over five years ago,


to remember for ever how she had loved him for an hour.


Look at your hands, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. They’re all over blood!


Yes,


What has happened to you, sir?


That’s blood, Fenya. That’s human blood, and my God! why was it shed? But ... Fenya ... there’s a fence here a high fence, and terrible to look at. But at dawn to‐morrow, when the sun rises, Mitya will leap over that fence.... You don’t understand what fence, Fenya, and, never mind.... You’ll hear to‐morrow and understand ... and now, good‐by. I won’t stand in her way. I’ll step aside, I know how to step aside. Live, my joy.... You loved me for an hour, remember Mityenka Karamazov so for ever.... She always used to call me Mityenka, do you remember?


Good heavens! What is the matter?


I’ve come for my pistols, and brought you the money. And thanks very much. I’m in a hurry, Pyotr Ilyitch, please make haste.


But what is the matter with you? What’s wrong? How is it that you’re all covered with blood? Have you had a fall? Look at yourself!


Damnation! That’s the last straw. Oh, damn it! Haven’t you a rag of some sort ... to wipe my face?


So you’re only stained, not wounded? You’d better wash. Here’s a wash‐stand. I’ll pour you out some water.


A wash‐stand? That’s all right ... but where am I to put this?


In your pocket, or on the table here. They won’t be lost.


In my pocket? Yes, in my pocket. All right.... But, I say, that’s all nonsense. Look here, let’s first settle that business of the pistols. Give them back to me. Here’s your money ... because I am in great need of them ... and I haven’t a minute, a minute to spare.


But I shan’t have change enough. Haven’t you less?


No. No, they’re all alike,


How have you grown so rich? Wait, I’ll send my boy to Plotnikov’s, they close late—to see if they won’t change it. Here, Misha!


To Plotnikov’s shop—first‐rate! Misha, look here, run to Plotnikov’s and tell them that Dmitri Fyodorovitch sends his greetings, and will be there directly.... But listen, listen, tell them to have champagne, three dozen bottles, ready before I come, and packed as it was to take to Mokroe. I took four dozen with me then, they know all about it, don’t you trouble, Misha. Stay, listen; tell them to put in cheese, Strasburg pies, smoked fish, ham, caviare, and everything, everything they’ve got, up to a hundred roubles, or a hundred and twenty as before.... But wait: don’t let them forget dessert, sweets, pears, water‐melons, two or three or four—no, one melon’s enough, and chocolate, candy, toffee, fondants; in fact, everything I took to Mokroe before, three hundred roubles’ worth with the champagne ... let it be just the same again. And remember, Misha, if you are called Misha—His name is Misha, isn’t it?


Wait a minute, you’d better go yourself and tell them. He’ll muddle it.


He will, I see he will! Eh, Misha! Why, I was going to kiss you for the commission.... If you don’t make a mistake, there’s ten roubles for you, run along, make haste.... Champagne’s the chief thing, let them bring up champagne. And brandy, too, and red and white wine, and all I had then.... They know what I had then.


But listen! I say, let him simply run and change the money and tell them not to close, and you go and tell them.... Give him your note. Be off, Misha! Put your best leg forward! Well, now come and wash. Put the money on the table or else in your pocket.... That’s right, come along. But take off your coat. Look, your coat’s covered with blood, too!


That ... it’s not the coat. It’s only a little here on the sleeve.... And that’s only here where the handkerchief lay. It must have soaked through. I must have sat on the handkerchief at Fenya’s, and the blood’s come through,


Well, you must have been up to something; you must have been fighting with some one. Look, you haven’t got your nails clean. Now rub your face; here, on your temples, by your ear.... Will you go in that shirt? Where are you going? Look, all the cuff of your right sleeve is covered with blood.


Yes, it’s all bloody,


Then change your shirt.


I haven’t time. You see I’ll ... I’ll turn it up at the wrist. It won’t be seen under the coat.... You see!


Tell me now, what game have you been up to? Have you been fighting with some one? In the tavern again, as before? Have you been beating that captain again? Whom have you been beating now ... or killing, perhaps?


Nonsense!


Why ‘nonsense’?


Don’t worry. I smashed an old woman in the market‐place just now.


Smashed? An old woman?


An old man!


Confound it! An old woman, an old man.... Have you killed some one?


We made it up. We had a row—and made it up. In a place I know of. We parted friends. A fool.... He’s forgiven me.... He’s sure to have forgiven me by now ... if he had got up, he wouldn’t have forgiven me only damn him, you know, I say, Pyotr Ilyitch, damn him! Don’t worry about him! I don’t want to just now!


Whatever do you want to go picking quarrels with every one for? ... Just as you did with that captain over some nonsense.... You’ve been fighting and now you’re rushing off on the spree—that’s you all over! Three dozen champagne—what do you want all that for?


Bravo! Now give me the pistols. Upon my honor I’ve no time now. I should like to have a chat with you, my dear boy, but I haven’t the time. And there’s no need, it’s too late for talking. Where’s my money? Where have I put it?


You put it on the table ... yourself.... Here it is. Had you forgotten? Money’s like dirt or water to you, it seems. Here are your pistols. It’s an odd thing, at six o’clock you pledged them for ten roubles, and now you’ve got thousands. Two or three I should say.


Three, you bet,


You’ll lose it like that. Have you found a gold‐mine?


The mines? The gold‐mines? Would you like to go to the mines, Perhotin? There’s a lady here who’ll stump up three thousand for you, if only you’ll go. She did it for me, she’s so awfully fond of gold‐mines. Do you know Madame Hohlakov?


I don’t know her, but I’ve heard of her and seen her. Did she really give you three thousand? Did she really?


As soon as the sun rises to‐morrow, as soon as Phœbus, ever young, flies upwards, praising and glorifying God, you go to her, this Madame Hohlakov, and ask her whether she did stump up that three thousand or not. Try and find out.


I don’t know on what terms you are ... since you say it so positively, I suppose she did give it to you. You’ve got the money in your hand, but instead of going to Siberia you’re spending it all.... Where are you really off to now, eh?


To Mokroe.


To Mokroe? But it’s night!


Once the lad had all, now the lad has naught,


How ‘naught’? You say that with all those thousands!


I’m not talking about thousands. Damn thousands! I’m talking of the female character. Fickle is the heart of woman Treacherous and full of vice; I agree with Ulysses. That’s what he says.


I don’t understand you!


Am I drunk?


Not drunk, but worse.


I’m drunk in spirit, Pyotr Ilyitch, drunk in spirit! But that’s enough!


What are you doing, loading the pistol?


I’m loading the pistol.


Why are you looking at the bullet?


Oh, a fancy. Why, if you meant to put that bullet in your brain, would you look at it or not?


Why look at it?


It’s going into my brain, so it’s interesting to look and see what it’s like. But that’s foolishness, a moment’s foolishness. Now that’s done. Pyotr Ilyitch, my dear fellow, that’s nonsense, all nonsense, and if only you knew what nonsense! Give me a little piece of paper now.


Here’s some paper.


No, a clean new piece, writing‐paper. That’s right. Now, let’s go.


Where are we going? No, wait a minute.... Are you thinking of putting that bullet in your brain, perhaps?


I was fooling about the bullet! I want to live. I love life! You may be sure of that. I love golden‐haired Phœbus and his warm light.... Dear Pyotr Ilyitch, do you know how to step aside?


What do you mean by ‘stepping aside’?


Making way. Making way for a dear creature, and for one I hate. And to let the one I hate become dear—that’s what making way means! And to say to them: God bless you, go your way, pass on, while I—


While you—?


That’s enough, let’s go.


Upon my word. I’ll tell some one to prevent your going there. What are you going to Mokroe for, now?


There’s a woman there, a woman. That’s enough for you. You shut up.


Listen, though you’re such a savage I’ve always liked you.... I feel anxious.


Thanks, old fellow. I’m a savage you say. Savages, savages! That’s what I am always saying. Savages! Why, here’s Misha! I was forgetting him.


They’re carrying down the bottles, and the fish, and the tea; it will all be ready directly.


Don’t dare to do such a thing! I won’t have it in my house, it’s a bad, demoralizing habit. Put your money away. Here, put it here, why waste it? It would come in handy to‐morrow, and I dare say you’ll be coming to me to borrow ten roubles again. Why do you keep putting the notes in your side‐pocket? Ah, you’ll lose them!


I say, my dear fellow, let’s go to Mokroe together.


What should I go for?


I say, let’s open a bottle at once, and drink to life! I want to drink, and especially to drink with you. I’ve never drunk with you, have I?


Very well, we can go to the ‘Metropolis.’ I was just going there.


I haven’t time for that. Let’s drink at the Plotnikovs’, in the back room. Shall I ask you a riddle?


Ask away. I will certainly speak to some one, I’ll go at once,


You won’t have time, dear boy, come and have a drink. March!


Where did this cart come from in such a hurry?


I met Andrey as I ran to you, and told him to drive straight here to the shop. There’s no time to lose. Last time I drove with Timofey, but Timofey now has gone on before me with the witch. Shall we be very late, Andrey?


They’ll only get there an hour at most before us, not even that maybe. I got Timofey ready to start. I know how he’ll go. Their pace won’t be ours, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. How could it be? They won’t get there an hour earlier!


Fifty roubles for vodka if we’re only an hour behind them.


I warrant the time, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. Ech, they won’t be half an hour before us, let alone an hour.


Four hundred roubles’ worth, not less than four hundred roubles’ worth, just as it was then. Four dozen champagne, not a bottle less.


What do you want with so much? What’s it for? Stay! What’s this box? What’s in it? Surely there isn’t four hundred roubles’ worth here?


Not more than an hour! Not more than an hour! And put in more toffee and fondants. The girls there are so fond of it,


The fondants are all right. But what do you want with four dozen of champagne? One would be enough. Well, you may go to the devil! What’s it to do with me? Throw away your money, since it’s cost you nothing.


This way, my economist, this way, don’t be angry. They’ll give us a bottle here directly. We’ll taste it. Ech, Pyotr Ilyitch, come along with me, for you’re a nice fellow, the sort I like.


First‐class oysters, the last lot in.


Hang the oysters. I don’t eat them. And we don’t need anything,


There’s no time for oysters. And I’m not hungry. Do you know, friend. I never have liked all this disorder.


Who does like it? Three dozen of champagne for peasants, upon my word, that’s enough to make any one angry!


That’s not what I mean. I’m talking of a higher order. There’s no order in me, no higher order. But ... that’s all over. There’s no need to grieve about it. It’s too late, damn it! My whole life has been disorder, and one must set it in order. Is that a pun, eh?


You’re raving, not making puns!


Glory be to God in Heaven, Glory be to God in me.... That verse came from my heart once, it’s not a verse, but a tear.... I made it myself ... not while I was pulling the captain’s beard, though....


Why do you bring him in all of a sudden?


Why do I bring him in? Foolery! All things come to an end; all things are made equal. That’s the long and short of it.


You know, I keep thinking of your pistols.


That’s all foolery, too! Drink, and don’t be fanciful. I love life. I’ve loved life too much, shamefully much. Enough! Let’s drink to life, dear boy, I propose the toast. Why am I pleased with myself? I’m a scoundrel, but I’m satisfied with myself. And yet I’m tortured by the thought that I’m a scoundrel, but satisfied with myself. I bless the creation. I’m ready to bless God and His creation directly, but ... I must kill one noxious insect for fear it should crawl and spoil life for others.... Let us drink to life, dear brother. What can be more precious than life? Nothing! To life, and to one queen of queens!


Let’s drink to life and to your queen, too, if you like.


Misha ... here’s your Misha come! Misha, come here, my boy, drink this glass to Phœbus, the golden-haired, of to-morrow morn....


What are you giving it him for?


Yes, yes, yes, let me! I want to! Woman, I love woman! What is woman? The queen of creation! My heart is sad, my heart is sad, Pyotr Ilyitch. Do you remember Hamlet? ‘I am very sorry, good Horatio! Alas, poor Yorick!’ Perhaps that’s me, Yorick? Yes, I’m Yorick now, and a skull afterwards. I saw one like it ... in the regiment ... only that one had its hind leg broken.... By the way, Pyotr Ilyitch, I wanted to ask you: have you ever stolen anything in your life?


What a question!


Oh, I didn’t mean anything. From somebody’s pocket, you know. I don’t mean government money, every one steals that, and no doubt you do, too....


You go to the devil.


I’m talking of other people’s money. Stealing straight out of a pocket? Out of a purse, eh?


I stole twenty copecks from my mother when I was nine years old. I took it off the table on the sly, and held it tight in my hand.


Well, and what happened?


Oh, nothing. I kept it three days, then I felt ashamed, confessed, and gave it back.


And what then?


Naturally I was whipped. But why do you ask? Have you stolen something?


I have. I stole twenty copecks from my mother when I was nine years old, and gave it back three days after.


Dmitri Fyodorovitch, won’t you come now?


Are you ready? We’ll come! A few more last words and—Andrey, a glass of vodka at starting. Give him some brandy as well! That box put under my seat. Good-by, Pyotr Ilyitch, don’t remember evil against me.


But you’re coming back to-morrow?


Of course.


Will you settle the little bill now?


Dmitri Fyodorovitch, dear good Dmitri Fyodorovitch, don’t harm my mistress. And it was I told you all about it.... And don’t murder him, he came first, he’s hers! He’ll marry Agrafena Alexandrovna now. That’s why he’s come back from Siberia. Dmitri Fyodorovitch, dear, don’t take a fellow creature’s life!


Tut—tut—tut! That’s it, is it? So you’re off there to make trouble! Now, it’s all clear, as clear as daylight. Dmitri Fyodorovitch, give me your pistols at once if you mean to behave like a man. Do you hear, Dmitri?


The pistols? Wait a bit, brother, I’ll throw them into the pool on the road. Fenya, get up, don’t kneel to me. Mitya won’t hurt any one, the silly fool won’t hurt any one again. But I say, Fenya. I hurt you just now, so forgive me and have pity on me, forgive a scoundrel.... But it doesn’t matter if you don’t. It’s all the same now. Now then, Andrey, look alive, fly along full speed! Good-by, Pyotr Ilyitch! My last tear is for you!...


He’s a fool, though he’s a good fellow. I’ve heard of that officer, Grushenka’s former flame. Well, if he has turned up.... Ech, those pistols! Damn it all! I’m not his nurse! Let them do what they like! Besides, it’ll all come to nothing. They’re a set of brawlers, that’s all. They’ll drink and fight, fight and make friends again. They are not men who do anything real. What does he mean by ‘I’m stepping aside, I’m punishing myself?’ It’ll come to nothing! He’s shouted such phrases a thousand times, drunk, in the taverns. But now he’s not drunk. ‘Drunk in spirit’—they’re fond of fine phrases, the villains. Am I his nurse? He must have been fighting, his face was all over blood. With whom? I shall find out at the ‘Metropolis.’ And his handkerchief was soaked in blood.... It’s still lying on my floor.... Hang it! Three thousand? But where can he have got three thousand? Hasn’t he robbed his old father?—that’s the question. Three thousand! There’s something odd about it. He boasted aloud that he would kill his father; we all heard him, here. And it was three thousand he talked about ...


On account of some stupid nonsense—as it’s sure to turn out—am I going to wake up the household and make a scandal? Fooh! damn it, is it my business to look after them? Damn it all! I ought to have questioned her just now. I should have heard everything. And I shall be making a fuss!


Here there was no room for dispute: it was her right and his; this was her first love which, after five years, she had not forgotten; so she had loved him only for those five years, and I, how do I come in? What right have I? Step aside, Mitya, and make way! What am I now? Now everything is over apart from the officer—even if he had not appeared, everything would be over ...


I will efface myself! Andrey! What if they’re asleep?


It may well be that they’re gone to bed, by now, Dmitri Fyodorovitch.


Drive on, Andrey! Whip them up! Look alive!


Not at the posting-station, but at Plastunov’s, at the inn, where they let out horses, too.


I know. So you say there are a lot of them? How’s that? Who are they?


Well, Timofey was saying they’re all gentlefolk. Two from our town—who they are I can’t say—and there are two others, strangers, maybe more besides. I didn’t ask particularly. They’ve set to playing cards, so Timofey said.


Cards?


So, maybe they’re not in bed if they’re at cards. It’s most likely not more than eleven.


Quicker, Andrey! Quicker!


May I ask you something, sir? Only I’m afraid of angering you, sir.


What is it?


Why, Fenya threw herself at your feet just now, and begged you not to harm her mistress, and some one else, too ... so you see, sir— It’s I am taking you there ... forgive me, sir, it’s my conscience ... maybe it’s stupid of me to speak of it—


Are you a driver?


Yes, sir.


Then you know that one has to make way. What would you say to a driver who wouldn’t make way for any one, but would just drive on and crush people? No, a driver mustn’t run over people. One can’t run over a man. One can’t spoil people’s lives. And if you have spoilt a life—punish yourself.... If only you’ve spoilt, if only you’ve ruined any one’s life—punish yourself and go away.


That’s right, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, you’re quite right, one mustn’t crush or torment a man, or any kind of creature, for every creature is created by God. Take a horse, for instance, for some folks, even among us drivers, drive anyhow. Nothing will restrain them, they just force it along.


To hell? Andrey, simple soul, tell me, will Dmitri Fyodorovitch Karamazov go to hell, or not, what do you think?


I don’t know, darling, it depends on you, for you are ... you see, sir, when the Son of God was nailed on the Cross and died, He went straight down to hell from the Cross, and set free all sinners that were in agony. And the devil groaned, because he thought that he would get no more sinners in hell. And God said to him, then, ‘Don’t groan, for you shall have all the mighty of the earth, the rulers, the chief judges, and the rich men, and shall be filled up as you have been in all the ages till I come again.’ Those were His very words ...


A peasant legend! Capital! Whip up the left, Andrey!


So you see, sir, who it is hell’s for, but you’re like a little child ... that’s how we look on you ... and though you’re hasty‐tempered, sir, yet God will forgive you for your kind heart.


And you, do you forgive me, Andrey?


What should I forgive you for, sir? You’ve never done me any harm.


No, for every one, for every one, you here alone, on the road, will you forgive me for every one? Speak, simple peasant heart!


Oh, sir! I feel afraid of driving you, your talk is so strange.


Lord, receive me, with all my lawlessness, and do not condemn me. Let me pass by Thy judgment ... do not condemn me, for I have condemned myself, do not condemn me, for I love Thee, O Lord. I am a wretch, but I love Thee. If Thou sendest me to hell, I shall love Thee there, and from there I shall cry out that I love Thee for ever and ever.... But let me love to the end.... Here and now for just five hours ... till the first light of Thy day ... for I love the queen of my soul ... I love her and I cannot help loving her. Thou seest my whole heart.... I shall gallop up, I shall fall before her and say, ‘You are right to pass on and leave me. Farewell and forget your victim ... never fret yourself about me!’


Mokroe!


Drive on, Andrey, I come!


They’re not asleep,


They’re not asleep. Quicker, Andrey! Gallop! Drive up with a dash! Set the bells ringing! Let all know that I have come. I’m coming! I’m coming, too!


Trifon Borissovitch, is that you?


Dmitri Fyodorovitch, your honor! Do I see you again?


Dmitri Fyodorovitch, dear sir, we see you once more!


Stay, Trifon Borissovitch, first and foremost, where is she?


Agrafena Alexandrovna? She’s here, too ...


With whom? With whom?


Some strangers. One is an official gentleman, a Pole, to judge from his speech. He sent the horses for her from here; and there’s another with him, a friend of his, or a fellow traveler, there’s no telling. They’re dressed like civilians.


Well, are they feasting? Have they money?


Poor sort of a feast! Nothing to boast of, Dmitri Fyodorovitch.


Nothing to boast of? And who are the others?


They’re two gentlemen from the town.... They’ve come back from Tcherny, and are putting up here. One’s quite a young gentleman, a relative of Mr. Miüsov, he must be, but I’ve forgotten his name ... and I expect you know the other, too, a gentleman called Maximov. He’s been on a pilgrimage, so he says, to the monastery in the town. He’s traveling with this young relation of Mr. Miüsov.


Is that all?


Yes.


Stay, listen, Trifon Borissovitch. Tell me the chief thing: What of her? How is she?


Oh, she’s only just come. She’s sitting with them.


Is she cheerful? Is she laughing?


No, I think she’s not laughing much. She’s sitting quite dull. She’s combing the young gentleman’s hair.


The Pole—the officer?


He’s not young, and he’s not an officer, either. Not him, sir. It’s the young gentleman that’s Mr. Miüsov’s relation ... I’ve forgotten his name.


Kalganov.


That’s it, Kalganov!


All right. I’ll see for myself. Are they playing cards?


They have been playing, but they’ve left off. They’ve been drinking tea, the official gentleman asked for liqueurs.


Stay, Trifon Borissovitch, stay, my good soul, I’ll see for myself. Now answer one more question: are the gypsies here?


You can’t have the gypsies now, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. The authorities have sent them away. But we’ve Jews that play the cymbals and the fiddle in the village, so one might send for them. They’d come.


Send for them. Certainly send for them! And you can get the girls together as you did then, Marya especially, Stepanida, too, and Arina. Two hundred roubles for a chorus!


Oh, for a sum like that I can get all the village together, though by now they’re asleep. Are the peasants here worth such kindness, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, or the girls either? To spend a sum like that on such coarseness and rudeness! What’s the good of giving a peasant a cigar to smoke, the stinking ruffian! And the girls are all lousy. Besides, I’ll get my daughters up for nothing, let alone a sum like that. They’ve only just gone to bed, I’ll give them a kick and set them singing for you. You gave the peasants champagne to drink the other day, e—ech!


Trifon Borissovitch, I sent more than one thousand flying last time I was here. Do you remember?


You did send it flying. I may well remember. You must have left three thousand behind you.


Well, I’ve come to do the same again, do you see? Now, listen and remember. In an hour’s time the wine will arrive, savories, pies, and sweets—bring them all up at once. That box Andrey has got is to be brought up at once, too. Open it, and hand champagne immediately. And the girls, we must have the girls, Marya especially. Here, Andrey, let’s settle. Here’s fifteen roubles for the drive, and fifty for vodka ... for your readiness, for your love.... Remember Karamazov!


I’m afraid, sir. Give me five roubles extra, but more I won’t take. Trifon Borissovitch, bear witness. Forgive my foolish words ...


What are you afraid of? Well, go to the devil, if that’s it! Now, Trifon Borissovitch, take me up quietly and let me first get a look at them, so that they don’t see me. Where are they? In the blue room?


Aie!


Gentlemen. I ... I’m all right! Don’t be afraid! I—there’s nothing the matter. I ... I’m coming, too. I’m here till morning. Gentlemen, may I stay with you till morning? Only till morning, for the last time, in this same room?


Panie, we’re here in private. There are other rooms.


Why, it’s you, Dmitri Fyodorovitch! What do you mean? Sit down with us. How are you?


Delighted to see you, dear ... and precious fellow, I always thought a lot of you.


Aie! How tight you squeeze! You’ve quite broken my fingers,


He always squeezes like that, always,


Good evening,


Good evening. You’re here, too! How glad I am to find you here, too! Gentlemen, gentlemen, I— I flew here.... I wanted to spend my last day, my last hour in this room, in this very room ... where I, too, adored ... my queen.... Forgive me, panie. I flew here and vowed— Oh, don’t be afraid, it’s my last night! Let’s drink to our good understanding. They’ll bring the wine at once.... I brought this with me. Allow me, panie! I want to have music, singing, a revel, as we had before. But the worm, the unnecessary worm, will crawl away, and there’ll be no more of him. I will commemorate my day of joy on my last night.


If my suverin lady is permitting—


What does ‘suverin’ mean? ‘Sovereign,’ I suppose? I can’t help laughing at you, the way you talk. Sit down, Mitya, what are you talking about? Don’t frighten us, please. You won’t frighten us, will you? If you won’t, I am glad to see you ...


Me, me frighten you? Oh, pass me by, go your way, I won’t hinder you!...


Come, come, what a fellow you are! That’s just how he comes to see me—he begins talking, and I can’t make out what he means. He cried like that once before, and now he’s crying again! It’s shameful! Why are you crying? As though you had anything to cry for!


I ... I’m not crying.... Well, good evening!


Well, there you are again.... Come, cheer up, cheer up! I’m very glad you’ve come, very glad, Mitya, do you hear, I’m very glad! I want him to stay here with us. And if he goes away I shall go, too!


What my queen commands is law! I beg you, panie, to join our company,


Let’s drink, panie,


Good heavens! I thought he was going to begin again! Do you hear, Mitya, don’t prance about, but it’s nice you’ve brought the champagne. I want some myself, and I can’t bear liqueurs. And best of all, you’ve come yourself. We were fearfully dull here.... You’ve come for a spree again, I suppose? But put your money in your pocket. Where did you get such a lot?


Another! Another bottle!


Well, what of it? It’s a good thing he’s smoking a pipe. I suppose it’s all right since he wears a wig. If he stood up he’d be six foot three.


Why are we sitting here though, gentlemen? Why don’t you begin doing something?


He keeps talking nonsense, and we were all laughing,


He’s talking nonsense?


Yes. Would you believe it, he will have it that all our cavalry officers in the twenties married Polish women. That’s awful rot, isn’t it?


Polish women?


Only imagine, I’ve been taking him about with me for the last four days. Ever since your brother, do you remember, shoved him off the carriage and sent him flying. That made me take an interest in him at the time, and I took him into the country, but he keeps talking such rot I’m ashamed to be with him. I’m taking him back.


The gentleman has not seen Polish ladies, and says what is impossible,


But I was married to a Polish lady myself,


But did you serve in the cavalry? You were talking about the cavalry. Were you a cavalry officer?


Was he a cavalry officer indeed? Ha ha!


No, you see. What I mean is that those pretty Polish ladies ... when they danced the mazurka with our Uhlans ... when one of them dances a mazurka with a Uhlan she jumps on his knee like a kitten ... a little white one ... and the pan‐father and pan‐mother look on and allow it.... They allow it ... and next day the Uhlan comes and offers her his hand.... That’s how it is ... offers her his hand, he he!


The pan is a lajdak!


Well, now it’s lajdak! What’s he scolding about?


Pani Agrippina, what the gentleman saw in Poland were servant girls, and not ladies of good birth,


You can reckon on that,


What next! Let him talk! People talk, why hinder them? It makes it cheerful,


I’m not hindering them, pani,


No, no. The Polish gentleman spoke the truth. He’s never been in Poland, so how can he talk about it? I suppose you weren’t married in Poland, were you?


No, in the Province of Smolensk. Only, a Uhlan had brought her to Russia before that, my future wife, with her mamma and her aunt, and another female relation with a grown‐up son. He brought her straight from Poland and gave her up to me. He was a lieutenant in our regiment, a very nice young man. At first he meant to marry her himself. But he didn’t marry her, because she turned out to be lame.


So you married a lame woman?


Yes. They both deceived me a little bit at the time, and concealed it. I thought she was hopping; she kept hopping.... I thought it was for fun.


So pleased she was going to marry you!


Yes, so pleased. But it turned out to be quite a different cause. Afterwards, when we were married, after the wedding, that very evening, she confessed, and very touchingly asked forgiveness. ‘I once jumped over a puddle when I was a child,’ she said, ‘and injured my leg.’ He he!


Do you know, that’s the truth, he’s not lying now, and do you know, he’s been married twice; it’s his first wife he’s talking about. But his second wife, do you know, ran away, and is alive now.


Is it possible?


Yes. She did run away. I’ve had that unpleasant experience, with a monsieur. And what was worse, she’d had all my little property transferred to her beforehand. ‘You’re an educated man,’ she said to me. ‘You can always get your living.’ She settled my business with that. A venerable bishop once said to me: ‘One of your wives was lame, but the other was too light‐footed.’ He he!


Listen, listen! if he’s telling lies—and he often is—he’s only doing it to amuse us all. There’s no harm in that, is there? You know, I sometimes like him. He’s awfully low, but it’s natural to him, eh? Don’t you think so? Some people are low from self‐ interest, but he’s simply so, from nature. Only fancy, he claims (he was arguing about it all the way yesterday) that Gogol wrote Dead Souls about him. Do you remember, there’s a landowner called Maximov in it, whom Nozdryov thrashed. He was charged, do you remember, ‘for inflicting bodily injury with rods on the landowner Maximov in a drunken condition.’ Would you believe it, he claims that he was that Maximov and that he was beaten! Now can it be so? Tchitchikov made his journey, at the very latest, at the beginning of the twenties, so that the dates don’t fit. He couldn’t have been thrashed then, he couldn’t, could he?


Well, but if they did thrash him!


It’s not that they thrashed me exactly, but what I mean is—


What do you mean? Either they thrashed you or they didn’t.


What o’clock is it, panie?


Why not talk? Let other people talk. Mustn’t other people talk because you’re bored?


Pani, I didn’t oppose it. I didn’t say anything.


All right then. Come, tell us your story. Why are you all silent?


There’s nothing to tell, it’s all so foolish. Besides, all that’s by way of allegory in Gogol, for he’s made all the names have a meaning. Nozdryov was really called Nosov, and Kuvshinikov had quite a different name, he was called Shkvornev. Fenardi really was called Fenardi, only he wasn’t an Italian but a Russian, and Mamsel Fenardi was a pretty girl with her pretty little legs in tights, and she had a little short skirt with spangles, and she kept turning round and round, only not for four hours but for four minutes only, and she bewitched every one...


But what were you beaten for?


For Piron!


What Piron?


The famous French writer, Piron. We were all drinking then, a big party of us, in a tavern at that very fair. They’d invited me, and first of all I began quoting epigrams. ‘Is that you, Boileau? What a funny get‐up!’ and Boileau answers that he’s going to a masquerade, that is to the baths, he he! And they took it to themselves, so I made haste to repeat another, very sarcastic, well known to all educated people: Yes, Sappho and Phaon are we! But one grief is weighing on me. You don’t know your way to the sea! They were still more offended and began abusing me in the most unseemly way for it. And as ill‐luck would have it, to set things right, I began telling a very cultivated anecdote about Piron, how he was not accepted into the French Academy, and to revenge himself wrote his own epitaph: Ci‐gît Piron qui ne fut rien, Pas même académicien. They seized me and thrashed me.


But what for? What for?


For my education. People can thrash a man for anything,


Eh, that’s enough! That’s all stupid, I don’t want to listen. I thought it would be amusing. Ah, he can’t sit still,


Panie! let’s drink! and the other pan, too! Let us drink. To Poland, panovie, I drink to your Poland!


I shall be delighted, panie,


And the other pan, what’s his name? Drink, most illustrious, take your glass!


Pan Vrublevsky,


To Poland, panovie! Hurrah! Now to Russia, panovie, and let us be brothers!


Pour out some for us. I’ll drink to Russia, too!


So will I,


And I would, too ... to Russia, the old grandmother!


All! All! Trifon Borissovitch, some more bottles! To Russia! Hurrah! How’s this, panovie? won’t you drink it?


To Russia as she was before 1772.


Come, that’s better!


You’re fools, you panovie,


Panie!


Can one help loving one’s own country?


Be silent! Don’t quarrel! I won’t have any quarreling!


Panovie, forgive me! It was my fault, I’m sorry. Vrublevsky, panie Vrublevsky, I’m sorry.


Hold your tongue, you, anyway! Sit down, you stupid!


Gentlemen, I was the cause of it all. Come, why are we sitting here? What shall we do ... to amuse ourselves again?


Ach, it’s certainly anything but amusing!


Let’s play faro again, as we did just now,


Faro? Splendid! If only the panovie—


It’s lite, panovie,


That’s true,


Lite? What do you mean by ‘lite’?


Late, pani! ‘a late hour’ I mean,


It’s always late with them. They can never do anything! They’re dull themselves, so they want others to be dull. Before you came, Mitya, they were just as silent and kept turning up their noses at me.


My goddess! I see you’re not well‐disposed to me, that’s why I’m gloomy. I’m ready, panie,


Begin, panie. I want to lose a lot to you. Take your cards. Make the bank.


We’ll have cards from the landlord, panie,


That’s much the best way,


From the landlord? Very good, I understand, let’s get them from him. Cards!


the girls were getting ready, and that the Jews with the cymbals would most likely be here soon; but the cart with the provisions had not yet arrived.


And vodka for Andrey, vodka for Andrey! I was rude to Andrey!


Give me five roubles. I’ll stake something at faro, too, he he!


Capital! Splendid! Take ten, here! And if you lose that, come again, come again.


Very good,


To your places, gentlemen,


No, I’m not going to play any more. I’ve lost fifty roubles to them just now.


The pan had no luck, perhaps he’ll be lucky this time,


How much in the bank? To correspond?


That’s according, panie, maybe a hundred, maybe two hundred, as much as you will stake.


A million!


The Pan Captain has heard of Pan Podvysotsky, perhaps?


What Podvysotsky?


That’s not true,


Panie Kalganov, in gentlemanly society one doesn’t say such things.


As if a Polish gambler would give away a million!


And I put a rouble on the queen, the queen of hearts, the pretty little panienotchka, he he!


A corner!


I’ll bet another rouble, a ‘single’ stake,


Lost! A ‘double’ on the seven!


Stop!


Double! Double! On the double!


You’ve lost two hundred, panie. Will you stake another hundred?


What? Lost two hundred already? Then another two hundred! All doubles!


That’s enough!


What’s the matter?


That’s enough! I don’t want you to play any more. Don’t!


Why?


Because I don’t. Hang it, come away. That’s why. I won’t let you go on playing.


Give it up, Mitya. He may be right. You’ve lost a lot as it is,


Are you joking, panie?


How dare you!


Don’t dare to shout like that,


Pani Agrippina,


Most illustrious, two words with you. In the next room, I’ve two words to say to you, something pleasant, very pleasant. You’ll be glad to hear it.


Where are you going?


We’ll be back in one moment,


What can I do for you, panie? Well, look here, panie, I won’t keep you long. There’s money for you. Would you like three thousand? Take it and go your way.


Three thousand, panie?


Three, panovie, three! Listen, panie, I see you’re a sensible man. Take three thousand and go to the devil, and Vrublevsky with you—d’you hear? But, at once, this very minute, and for ever. You understand that, panie, for ever. Here’s the door, you go out of it. What have you got there, a great-coat, a fur coat? I’ll bring it out to you. They’ll get the horses out directly, and then—good-by, panie! The money, panie? Five hundred roubles I’ll give you this moment for the journey, and as a first installment, and two thousand five hundred to-morrow, in the town—I swear on my honor, I’ll get it, I’ll get it at any cost! Seven hundred, seven hundred, not five hundred, at once, this minute, cash down! What’s the matter, panie? Don’t you trust me? I can’t give you the whole three thousand straight off. If I give it, you may come back to her to-morrow.... Besides, I haven’t the three thousand with me. I’ve got it at home in the town,


What next? For shame!


You do that, panie, because you hope to make more out of Grushenka? You’re a couple of capons, that’s what you are!


Speak Russian! Speak Russian! not another word of Polish! You used to talk Russian. You can’t have forgotten it in five years.


Pani Agrafena, I came here to forget the past and forgive it, to forget all that has happened till to-day—


Forgive? Came here to forgive me?


Just so, pani, I’m not pusillanimous, I’m magnanimous. But I was astounded when I saw your lovers. Pan Mitya offered me three thousand, in the other room to depart. I spat in the pan’s face.


What? He offered you money for me? Is it true, Mitya? How dare you? Am I for sale?


Panie, panie! she’s pure and shining, and I have never been her lover! That’s a lie....


How dare you defend me to him?


He took it! He took it! I see: he heard I had money, and came here to marry me!


Pani Agrippina! I’m—a knight, I’m—a nobleman, and not a lajdak. I came here to make you my wife and I find you a different woman, perverse and shameless.


Oh, go back where you came from! I’ll tell them to turn you out and you’ll be turned out. I’ve been a fool, a fool, to have been miserable these five years!


A regular Sodom! Landlord, send the shameless hussies away!


What are you shouting for? D’you want to split your throat?


Animal!


Animal? And what sort of cards were you playing with just now? I gave you a pack and you hid it. You played with marked cards! I could send you to Siberia for playing with false cards, d’you know that, for it’s just the same as false banknotes.... Here’s my pack unopened! From where I stood I saw him slip my pack away, and put his in place of it—you’re a cheat and not a gentleman!


And I twice saw the pan change a card!


How shameful! How shameful! Good Lord, he’s come to that!


I thought so, too!


You low harlot!


I’ve laid him on the floor, there. He’s struggling, the scoundrel! But he won’t come back, no fear of that!... Most illustrious, will you be pleased to retire as well?


My dear Dmitri Fyodorovitch, make them give you back the money you lost. It’s as good as stolen from you.


I don’t want my fifty roubles back,


I don’t want my two hundred, either. I wouldn’t take it for anything! Let him keep it as a consolation.


Bravo, Mitya! You’re a trump, Mitya!


Pani, if you want to come with me, come. If not, good-by.


That’s capital! Serve them right! I want to drink. I want to be quite drunk, as we were before. Do you remember, Mitya, do you remember how we made friends here last time! Go and enjoy yourself. Tell them to dance, to make merry, ‘let the stove and cottage dance’; as we had it last time,


They’re a lousy lot, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. I’d give them a kick, every one of them, and they’d take it as an honor—that’s all they’re worth!


I was rude to him just now,


What a dear, charming boy he is! How was it you came just now, eh? Have you walked in!... I was frightened. So you wanted to give me up to him, did you? Did you really want to?


I didn’t want to spoil your happiness!


Well, go and enjoy yourself ... Don’t cry, I’ll call you back again. Come, sit beside me, tell me, how did you hear about me, and my coming here yesterday? From whom did you first hear it?


What are you frowning at?


Nothing.... I left a man ill there. I’d give ten years of my life for him to get well, to know he was all right! Well, never mind him, if he’s ill. So you meant to shoot yourself to-morrow! What a silly boy! What for? I like such reckless fellows as you. So you would go any length for me, eh? Did you really mean to shoot yourself to-morrow, you stupid? No, wait a little. To-morrow I may have something to say to you.... I won’t say it to-day, but to-morrow. You’d like it to be to-day? No, I don’t want to to-day. Come, go along now, go and amuse yourself. Why are you sad? I see you’re sad.... Yes, I see it. Though you keep kissing the peasants and shouting, I see something. No, be merry. I’m merry; you be merry, too.... I love somebody here. Guess who it is. Ah, look, my boy has fallen asleep, poor dear, he’s drunk.


bored.


Look alive, Marya, or you’ll get the stick!


Well, let them! Let them! When they do get a day to enjoy themselves, why shouldn’t folks be happy?


It’s swinish, all this peasant foolery, it’s the game they play when it’s light all night in summer.


That’s just a song of yesterday. Who writes such things for them? They might just as well have had a railwayman or a Jew come to try his luck with the girls; they’d have carried all before them.


Look how pretty he is. I was combing his hair just now; his hair’s like flax, and so thick....


They taught me all those well‐bred, aristocratic dances when I was little....


Go, go with him, Mitya, and I’ll watch from here how he dances,


No, no, I’m coming to look on, too,


Thanks. You’re tired perhaps? What are you looking for here? Would you like some sweets? A cigar, perhaps?


A cigarette.


Don’t you want a drink?


I’ll just have a liqueur.... Have you any chocolates?


Yes, there’s a heap of them on the table there. Choose one, my dear soul!


I like one with vanilla ... for old people. He he!


No, brother, we’ve none of that special sort.


I say. That girl there, little Marya, he he! How would it be if you were to help me make friends with her?


So that’s what you’re after! No, brother, that won’t do!


I’d do no harm to any one,


Oh, all right, all right. They only come here to dance and sing, you know, brother. But damn it all, wait a bit!... Eat and drink and be merry, meanwhile. Don’t you want money?


Later on, perhaps,


What is it, Trifon Borissovitch? are you looking for me?


No, sir. Why should I be looking for you? Where have you been?


Why do you look so glum? You’re not angry, are you? Wait a bit, you shall soon get to bed.... What’s the time?


It’ll be three o’clock. Past three, it must be.


We’ll leave off soon. We’ll leave off.


Don’t mention it; it doesn’t matter. Keep it up as long as you like....


Mitya, Mitya, I loved him, you know. How I have loved him these five years, all that time! Did I love him or only my own anger? No, him, him! It’s a lie that it was my anger I loved and not him. Mitya, I was only seventeen then; he was so kind to me, so merry; he used to sing to me.... Or so it seemed to a silly girl like me.... And now, O Lord, it’s not the same man. Even his face is not the same; he’s different altogether. I shouldn’t have known him. I drove here with Timofey, and all the way I was thinking how I should meet him, what I should say to him, how we should look at one another. My soul was faint, and all of a sudden it was just as though he had emptied a pail of dirty water over me. He talked to me like a schoolmaster, all so grave and learned; he met me so solemnly that I was struck dumb. I couldn’t get a word in. At first I thought he was ashamed to talk before his great big Pole. I sat staring at him and wondering why I couldn’t say a word to him now. It must have been his wife that ruined him; you know he threw me up to get married. She must have changed him like that. Mitya, how shameful it is! Oh, Mitya, I’m ashamed, I’m ashamed for all my life. Curse it, curse it, curse those five years! Mitya, darling, stay, don’t go away. I want to say one word to you. Listen, tell me who it is I love? I love one man here. Who is that man? That’s what you must tell me. A falcon flew in, and my heart sank. ‘Fool! that’s the man you love!’ That was what my heart whispered to me at once. You came in and all grew bright. What’s he afraid of? I wondered. For you were frightened; you couldn’t speak. It’s not them he’s afraid of—could you be frightened of any one? It’s me he’s afraid of, I thought, only me. So Fenya told you, you little stupid, how I called to Alyosha out of the window that I’d loved Mityenka for one hour, and that I was going now to love ... another. Mitya, Mitya, how could I be such a fool as to think I could love any one after you? Do you forgive me, Mitya? Do you forgive me or not? Do you love me? Do you love me? You will forgive me for having tormented you? It was through spite I tormented you all. It was for spite I drove the old man out of his mind.... Do you remember how you drank at my house one day and broke the wine‐glass? I remembered that and I broke a glass to‐day and drank ‘to my vile heart.’ Mitya, my falcon, why don’t you kiss me? He kissed me once, and now he draws back and looks and listens. Why listen to me? Kiss me, kiss me hard, that’s right. If you love, well, then, love! I’ll be your slave now, your slave for the rest of my life. It’s sweet to be a slave. Kiss me! Beat me, ill‐treat me, do what you will with me.... And I do deserve to suffer. Stay, wait, afterwards, I won’t have that.... Go along, Mitya, I’ll come and have some wine, I want to be drunk, I’m going to get drunk and dance; I must, I must!


Did you feel how I kissed you when you were asleep just now? I’m drunk now, that’s what it is.... And aren’t you drunk? And why isn’t Mitya drinking? Why don’t you drink, Mitya? I’m drunk, and you don’t drink....


I am drunk! I’m drunk as it is ... drunk with you ... and now I’ll be drunk with wine, too.


Give him something, Mitya. Give him a present, he’s poor, you know. Ah, the poor, the insulted!... Do you know, Mitya, I shall go into a nunnery. No, I really shall one day, Alyosha said something to me to‐day that I shall remember all my life.... Yes.... But to‐day let us dance. To‐morrow to the nunnery, but to‐day we’ll dance. I want to play to‐day, good people, and what of it? God will forgive us. If I were God, I’d forgive every one: ‘My dear sinners, from this day forth I forgive you.’ I’m going to beg forgiveness: ‘Forgive me, good people, a silly wench.’ I’m a beast, that’s what I am. But I want to pray. I gave a little onion. Wicked as I’ve been, I want to pray. Mitya, let them dance, don’t stop them. Every one in the world is good. Every one—even the worst of them. The world’s a nice place. Though we’re bad the world’s all right. We’re good and bad, good and bad.... Come, tell me, I’ve something to ask you: come here every one, and I’ll ask you: Why am I so good? You know I am good. I’m very good.... Come, why am I so good? Mitya, don’t give me any more wine—if I ask you, don’t give it to me. Wine doesn’t give peace. Everything’s going round, the stove, and everything. I want to dance. Let every one see how I dance ... let them see how beautifully I dance....


Lajdak!


You’re a laj dak yourself! You’re a little scoundrel, that’s what you are.


Leave off laughing at Poland,


Be quiet, boy! If I call him a scoundrel, it doesn’t mean that I called all Poland so. One laj dak doesn’t make a Poland. Be quiet, my pretty boy, eat a sweetmeat.


Ach, what fellows! As though they were not men. Why won’t they make friends? I’m weak.... Forgive me.... I’m weak, I can’t.... I’m sorry. I’m sorry.... Forgive me....


The lady’s been drinking. The pretty lady has been drinking,


The lady’s drunk too much,


Mitya, lead me away ... take me. Don’t touch me.... Don’t touch me, till I’m yours.... I’ve told you I’m yours, but don’t touch me ... spare me.... With them here, with them close, you mustn’t. He’s here. It’s nasty here....


I’ll obey you! I won’t think of it ... I worship you! Yes, it’s nasty here, it’s abominable.


I know, though you’re a brute, you’re generous. It must be honorable ... it shall be honorable for the future ... and let us be honest, let us be good, not brutes, but good ... take me away, take me far away, do you hear? I don’t want it to be here, but far, far away....


Oh, yes, yes, it must be! I’ll take you and we’ll fly away.... Oh, I’d give my whole life for one year only to know about that blood!


What blood?


Nothing. Grusha, you wanted to be honest, but I’m a thief. But I’ve stolen money from Katya.... Disgrace, a disgrace!


From Katya, from that young lady? No, you didn’t steal it. Give it her back, take it from me.... Why make a fuss? Now everything of mine is yours. What does money matter? We shall waste it anyway.... Folks like us are bound to waste money. But we’d better go and work the land. I want to dig the earth with my own hands. We must work, do you hear? Alyosha said so. I won’t be your mistress, I’ll be faithful to you, I’ll be your slave, I’ll work for you. We’ll go to the young lady and bow down to her together, so that she may forgive us, and then we’ll go away. And if she won’t forgive us, we’ll go, anyway. Take her her money and love me.... Don’t love her.... Don’t love her any more. If you love her, I shall strangle her.... I’ll put out both her eyes with a needle....


I love you. I love only you. I’ll love you in Siberia....


Why Siberia? Never mind, Siberia, if you like. I don’t care ... we’ll work ... there’s snow in Siberia.... I love driving in the snow ... and must have bells.... Do you hear, there’s a bell ringing? Where is that bell ringing? There are people coming.... Now it’s stopped. What’s the matter? Was I asleep? Yes ... a bell ... I’ve been asleep and dreamt I was driving over the snow with bells, and I dozed. I was with some one I loved, with you. And far, far away. I was holding you and kissing you, nestling close to you. I was cold, and the snow glistened.... You know how the snow glistens at night when the moon shines. It was as though I was not on earth. I woke up, and my dear one is close to me. How sweet that is!...


Close to you,


Mitya, who is that looking at us?


Here, come to us, come here,


Gentlemen! What’s this for, gentlemen? I un—der—stand!


We have to make ... in brief, I beg you to come this way, this way to the sofa.... It is absolutely imperative that you should give an explanation.


The old man! The old man and his blood!... I understand.


You understand? He understands it! Monster and parricide! Your father’s blood cries out against you!


This is impossible! Mihail Makarovitch, Mihail Makarovitch, this won’t do!... I beg you’ll allow me to speak. I should never have expected such behavior from you....


This is delirium, gentlemen, raving delirium, look at him: drunk, at this time of night, in the company of a disreputable woman, with the blood of his father on his hands.... It’s delirium!...