Текст книги "The Brothers Karamazov"

“What do you mean, your mother?” he muttered, not understanding. “What are you talking about ... ? Whose mother ... was she ... ? Ah, damn! Of course she was yours, too! Damn! You know, my friend, my mind just went blank as never before. Forgive me, Ivan, I was thinking ... heh, heh, heh!” He stopped. His face split into a long, drunken, half-senseless grin. And suddenly, at that very moment, a terrible noise and clamor came from the front hall, furious shouting was heard, the door was flung open, and Dmitri Fyodorovich flew into the room. The old man rushed to Ivan in terror.

“He’ll kill me, he’ll kill me! Don’t let him get me! Don’t let him!” he cried out, clutching at the skirt of Ivan Fyodorovich’s coat.

Chapter 9: The Sensualists

On the heels of Dmitri Fyodorovich, Grigory and Smerdyakov also ran into the room. It was they who had struggled with him in the front hall and tried not to let him in (following instructions given them by Fyodor Pavlovich several days earlier). Seizing his chance when Dmitri Fyodorovich stopped for a moment to look about him after bursting into the room, Grigory ran around the table, closed both halves of the door leading to the inner rooms, which was opposite the entrance from the front hall, and stood before the closed door with his arms spread crosswise, ready to defend the entrance, so to speak, to the last drop. Seeing this, Dmitri gave something more like a shriek than a shout and hurled himself at Grigory.

“So she’s there! They’ve hidden her in there! Get away, scoundrel!” He tried to tear Grigory away, but Grigory pushed him back. Beside himself with rage, Dmitri swung and hit Grigory with all his strength. The old man collapsed as if he had been cut down, and Dmitri jumped over him and smashed through the door. Smerdyakov stayed at the other end of the room, pale and trembling, pressed up close to Fyodor Pavlovich.

“She’s here!” cried Dmitri Fyodorovich. “I just saw her turn towards the house, but I couldn’t catch up with her. Where is she? Where is she?” Inconceivable was the effect produced on Fyodor Pavlovich by the cry: “She’s here!” All his fright dropped away.

“Catch him! Catch him!” he yelled and dashed after Dmitri Fyodorovich.

Grigory meanwhile had gotten up from the floor but was still beside himself, as it were. Ivan Fyodorovich and Alyosha ran after their father. From the third room came the sound of something falling to the floor with a crash and a tinkle: it was a large glass vase (of the inexpensive sort) on a marble pedestal, which Dmitri Fyodorovich had brushed against as he ran past it.

“Sic him!” yelled the old man. “Help!”

Ivan Fyodorovich and Alyosha finally caught up with the old man and forced him back to the drawing room.

“What are you chasing him for? He really will kill you in there!” Ivan Fyodorovich shouted angrily at his father.

“Vanechka, Lyoshechka, she’s here, then, Grushenka is here, he said he saw her ...”

He was spluttering. He had not expected Grushenka to come this time, and suddenly the news that she was there drove him at once beyond his wits. He was shaking all over. He seemed to have gone mad.

“But you can see for yourself that she hasn’t come!” Ivan cried.

“Maybe by the back door.”

“But it’s locked, the back door is locked, and you have the key...”

Dmitri suddenly reappeared in the drawing room. He had of course found that door locked, and the key to the locked door was indeed in Fyodor Pav-lovich’s pocket. All the windows in all the rooms were locked as well. There was no way Grushenka could have gotten in, then, and no way she could have jumped out.

“Catch him!” shrieked Fyodor Pavlovich the moment he sighted Dmitri again. “He’s stolen money in there, from my bedroom!”

And breaking away from Ivan, he again rushed at Dmitri. But Dmitri raised both hands and suddenly seized the old man by the two surviving wisps of hair on his temples, pulled, and smashed him against the floor. He even had time to kick the fallen man in the face two or three times with his heel. The old man let out a shrill moan. Ivan Fyodorovich, though not as strong as his brother Dmitri, grasped him with both arms and tore him with all his might away from the old man. Alyosha, too, helped with his small strength, grasping his brother from the front.

“Madman, you’ve killed him!” shouted Ivan.

“Serves him right!” Dmitri cried, gasping. “And if I haven’t killed him this time, I’ll come back and kill him. You can’t save him!”

“Dmitri! Get out of here, at once!” Alyosha shouted commandingly. “Alexei, you tell me, you alone, you’re the only one I’ll believe: was she here just now or not? I saw her sneaking this way past the fence from the lane. I called out. She ran away ...”

“I swear to you, she has not been here, and no one here even expected her.”

“But I saw her ... So, she ... I’ll find out where she is ... Farewell, Alexei! Not a word to Aesop now about money. But go to Katerina Ivanovna at once, and be sure to tell her: ‘He says he bows to you, he bows to you, bows!’ Precisely that: ‘He bows to you—and he bows out! ‘ Describe this scene to her.”

Ivan and Grigory had meanwhile lifted the old man up and put him in the armchair. His face was covered with blood, but he was conscious and listened eagerly to Dmitri’s shouts. He still imagined that Grushenka was indeed somewhere in the house. Dmitri Fyodorovich gave him a hateful glance as he was leaving.

“I do not repent of your blood!” he exclaimed. “Watch out, old man, watch out for your dream, for I, too, have a dream! I curse you and disown you completely ...”

He ran out of the room.

“She’s here, she must be here! Smerdyakov, Smerdyakov,” the old man wheezed almost inaudibly, beckoning to Smerdyakov with his finger.

“She’s not here, not here, you crazy old man!” Ivan shouted at him viciously. “Hah, he’s fainted! Water, a towel! Move, Smerdyakov!”

Smerdyakov ran to get water. The old man was finally undressed, taken to the bedroom, and put to bed. His head was wrapped with a wet towel. Weakened by cognac, strong sensations, and the beating, he rolled up his eyes as soon as he touched the pillow and at once dozed off. Ivan Fyodorovich and Alyosha went back to the drawing room. Smerdyakov was carrying out the shards of the broken vase, and Grigory was standing by the table looking gloomily at the floor.

“Shouldn’t you, too, put something wet on your head and lie down?” Alyosha turned to Grigory. “We will look after him. My brother gave you a terribly painful blow ... on the head.”

“Me he dared . . .!”Grigory uttered gloomily and distinctly.

“He ‘dared’ father, too, not just you!” Ivan Fyodorovich observed, twisting his mouth.

“I used to wash him in a tub ... Me he dared . . .!” Grigory kept repeating.

“Devil take it, if I hadn’t pulled him away, he might have killed him right there. It wouldn’t take much for Aesop,” Ivan Fyodorovich whispered to Alyosha. “God forbid!” exclaimed Alyosha.

“Why ‘forbid’?” Ivan continued in the same whisper, his face twisted maliciously. “Viper will eat viper, and it would serve them both right!”

Alyosha started.

“Of course I will not allow murder to be committed, any more than I did just now. Stay here, Alyosha, while I take a walk in the yard. I’m getting a headache.”

Alyosha went to his father’s bedroom and sat with him behind the screen for about an hour. The old man suddenly opened his eyes and gazed silently at Alyosha for a long time, evidently recollecting and pondering. Suddenly an extraordinary agitation showed on his face.

“Alyosha,” he whispered warily, “where is Ivan?”

“Out in the yard. He’s got a headache. He’s keeping watch for us.”

“Bring me the mirror, it’s over there, bring it to me!”

Alyosha brought him a small, round folding mirror that stood on the chest of drawers. The old man looked in it: his nose was quite badly swollen, and there was a large purple bruise on his forehead above the left eyebrow.

“What does Ivan say? Alyosha, my dear, my only son, I’m afraid of Ivan; I’m more afraid of Ivan than of the other one. Only you I’m not afraid of...”

“Don’t be afraid of Ivan either. Ivan is angry, but he’ll protect you.”

“And what about the other one, Alyosha? He ran to Grushenka! My dear angel, tell me the truth: was Grushenka here just now or not?”

“No one saw her. It’s not true, she wasn’t here.”

“But Mitka, he wants to marry her, marry her!”

“She won’t marry him.”

“She won’t marry him, she won’t, she won’t, she won’t, she won’t marry him for anything in the world!” The old man roused himself joyfully, as if nothing more delightful could have been said to him at that moment. Enraptured, he seized Alyosha’s hand and firmly pressed it to his heart. Tears even shone in his eyes.

“That little icon, the one of the Mother of God, the one I was just talking about, you can have it, take it with you. And I permit you to go back to the monastery ... I was joking this morning, don’t be cross with me. My head aches, Alyosha ... Lyosha, ease my heart, be an angel, tell me the truth!”

“You mean whether she was here or not?” Alyosha said ruefully.

“No, no, no, I believe you, but I tell you what: go to Grushenka yourself, or get to see her somehow; find out from her soon, as soon as possible, figure out with your own eyes who she wants to be with, me or him. Eh, what? Can you do it or not?”

“If I see her, I’ll ask her,” Alyosha murmured in embarrassment. “No, she won’t tell you,” the old man interrupted. “She’s a fidget. She’ll start kissing you and say it’s you she wants to marry. She’s a cheat, she’s shameless. No, you mustn’t go to her, you mustn’t.”

“And it wouldn’t be nice either, father, not nice at all.”

“Where was he sending you just now when he shouted ‘Go!’ as he ran out the door?”

“To Katerina Ivanovna.”

“For money? To ask for money?”

“No, not for money.”

“He has no money, not a drop. Listen, Alyosha, I’ll lie in bed all night and think things over. You go now. Maybe you’ll meet her ... Only be sure to stop by tomorrow morning. Be sure to. I’ll tell you a little something tomorrow. Will you come?”

“I will.”

“When you do, pretend that it was your own idea, that you just came to visit me. Don’t tell anyone I asked you to come. Don’t say a word to Ivan.”

“Very well.”

“Good-bye, my angel, you stood up for me today, I won’t ever forget it. I’ll tell you a little something tomorrow, only I still have to think...”

“And how do you feel now?”

“By tomorrow, by tomorrow I’ll be up and around. Quite well, quite well, quite well!”

Passing through the yard, Alyosha met his brother Ivan on a bench by the gate. He was sitting and writing something in his notebook with a pencil. Alyosha told Ivan that the old man was awake and conscious and had let him go to spend the night in the monastery.

“Alyosha, it would be my pleasure to meet with you tomorrow morning,” Ivan said affably, rising a little. His affability took Alyosha completely by surprise.

“I’ll be at the Khokhlakovs’ tomorrow,” Alyosha replied. “I may be at Katerina Ivanovna’s, too, if I don’t find her in now ...”

“So you are going to Katerina Ivanovna’s now? ‘To bow and bow out’?” Ivan suddenly smiled. Alyosha looked embarrassed.

“I think I understood it all from those exclamations just now, and from certain things that happened before. Dmitri, most likely, has asked you to go to her and tell her that he ... well ... well, in a word, that he is ‘bowing out’?”

“Brother! What will all this horror between father and Dmitri come to?” Alyosha exclaimed.

“It’s impossible to guess for certain. Maybe nothing: the whole affair could just dissolve. That woman is a beast. In any case, the old man must be kept at home, and Dmitri must not be let into the house.”

“Brother, let me ask you one more thing: can it be that any man has the right to decide about the rest of mankind, who is worthy to live and who is more unworthy?”

“But why bring worth into it? The question is most often decided in the hearts of men not at all on the basis of worth, but for quite different reasons, much more natural ones. As for rights, tell me, who has no right to wish?”

“But surely not for another’s death?”

“Maybe even for another’s death. Why lie to yourself when everyone lives like that, and perhaps even cannot live any other way? What are you getting at—what I said about ‘two vipers eating each other up’? In that case, let me ask you: do you consider me capable, like Dmitri, of shedding Aesop’s blood, well, of killing him? Eh?”

“What are you saying, Ivan! The thought never entered my mind! And I don’t consider Dmitri ...”

“Thanks at least for that,” Ivan grinned. “Let it be known to you that I will always protect him. But as for my wishes in the matter, there I reserve complete freedom for myself. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t condemn me, and don’t look on me as a villain,” he added with a smile.

They shook hands firmly, as they had never done before. Alyosha felt that his brother had stepped a step towards him, and that he must have done so for some reason, with some purpose in mind.

Chapter 10: The Two Together

Yet Alyosha left his father’s house even more broken and dejected in spirit than when he had entered it. His mind, too, was splintered and scattered, as it were, while he himself felt at the same time that he was afraid to bring the scattered together and draw a general idea from all the tormenting contradictions he had lived through that day. Something was bordering almost on despair in Alyosha’s heart, which had never happened to him before. One main, fateful, and insoluble question towered over everything like a mountain: how would it end between his father and his brother Dmitri with this terrible woman? Now he himself had been a witness. He himself had been there and had seen them face each other. However, only his brother Dmitri could turn out to be unhappy, completely and terribly unhappy: disaster undoubtedly lay in wait for him. Other people also turned out to be concerned in it all, and perhaps far more so than Alyosha could have imagined before. There was something even mysterious in it. His brother Ivan had taken a step towards him, which Alyosha had so long desired, but now for some reason he felt frightened by this step towards intimacy. And those women? It was strange: earlier he had set out to see Katerina Ivanovna in great embarrassment, but now he felt none; on the contrary, he was hurrying to her, as though he expected her to give him guidance. And yet to convey the message to her was now obviously more difficult than before: the matter of the three thousand roubles was decided finally, and his brother Dmitri, now feeling himself dishonest and without any hope, would of course not hesitate at any further fall. Besides, he had ordered him to tell Katerina Ivanovna about the scene that had just taken place at his father’s.

It was already seven o’clock and dusk was falling when Alyosha went to see Katerina Ivanovna, who occupied a spacious and comfortable house on Main Street. Alyosha knew that she lived with two aunts. One of them, however, was the aunt only of her sister Agafya Ivanovna; this was that meek person in her father’s house who had looked after her together with her sister when she had come from the institute. The other was a stately Moscow grande dame, of the impoverished sort. Rumor had it that they both obeyed Katerina Ivanovna in everything and stayed with her solely for the sake of propriety. And Katerina Ivanovna obeyed only her benefactress, the general’s widow, who had remained in Moscow because of her illness, and to whom she was obliged to send two letters every week with detailed news of herself.

When Alyosha entered the front hall and asked the chambermaid who had let him in to announce him, they evidently already knew of his arrival in the drawing room (perhaps they had seen him from the window); in any case Alyosha suddenly heard some noise, some women’s running steps, the rustle of skirts: perhaps two or three women had run out. It seemed strange to Alyosha that his arrival could cause such a stir. However, he was at once shown into the drawing room. It was a large room, filled with elegant and abundant furniture, not at all in a provincial manner. There were many sofas, settees, love seats, tables large and small; there were paintings on the walls, vases and lamps on the tables, there were lots of flowers, there was even an aquarium by the window. Twilight made the room somewhat dark. On a sofa where someone had obviously just been sitting, Alyosha noticed a silk mantilla, and on the table in front of the sofa two unfinished cups of chocolate, biscuits, a crystal dish with purple raisins, another with candies. Someone was visiting. Alyosha realized that he had intruded on guests and frowned. But at that very moment the portière was raised and Katerina Ivanovna came in with quick, hurrying steps, and with a joyful, delighted smile held out both hands to Alyosha. At the same moment a maid brought in two lighted candles and set them on the table.

“Thank God it’s you at last! All day I’ve been asking God for no one but you! Sit down.”

The beauty of Katerina Ivanovna had struck Alyosha even before, when his brother Dmitri had brought him to her for the first time three weeks earlier, to introduce them and get them acquainted, at Katerina Ivanovna’s special request. In that meeting, however, they had failed to strike up any conversation. Supposing Alyosha to be ill at ease, Katerina Ivanovna had spared him, as it were, and spent the whole time talking with Dmitri Fyodorovich. Alyosha had been silent, but had perceived a great deal very clearly. He was struck by the imperiousness, the proud ease, the self-confidence of the arrogant girl. And all that was unquestionable. Alyosha felt that he was not exaggerating. He found her large, black, burning eyes beautiful and especially becoming to her pale, even somewhat pale yellow, oval face. But in those eyes, as well as in the outline of her lovely lips, there was something that his brother certainly might fall terribly in love with, but that it was perhaps impossible to love for long. He almost said so outright to Dmitri, who pestered him after the visit, begging him not to conceal his impressions after seeing his fiancée.

“You will be happy with her, but perhaps ... not quietly happy.”

“That’s just it, brother, such women stay as they are, they don’t humble themselves before fate. So you think I won’t love her eternally?”

“No, maybe you will love her eternally, but maybe you won’t always be happy with her ...”

Alyosha had given his opinion then, blushing and annoyed with himself for having yielded to his brother’s entreaties and expressed such “foolish” thoughts. Because his opinion seemed terribly foolish to him as soon as he expressed it. And he felt ashamed at having expressed such an authoritative opinion about a woman. With all the more amazement did he feel now, at the first sight of Katerina Ivanovna as she ran out to him, that perhaps he had been very mistaken then. This time her face shone with unfeigned, openhearted kindness, with direct and ardent sincerity. Of all the former “pride and arrogance” that had so struck Alyosha at first, he now saw only a courageous, noble energy and a certain clear, strong faith in herself. Alyosha realized at the first sight of her, at the first words, that the whole tragedy of her situation with respect to the man she loved so much was no secret to her, that she, perhaps, knew everything already, decidedly everything. And yet, despite that, there was still so much light in her face, so much faith in the future, that Alyosha suddenly felt himself gravely and deliberately guilty before her. He was conquered and attracted at the same time. Besides which he noticed at her first words that she was in some great excitement, perhaps quite unusual for her—an excitement even almost resembling a sort of rapture.

“I’ve been waiting for you so, because now I can learn the whole truth only from you—and from no one else!”

“I’ve come ... ,” Alyosha muttered, confused, “I ... he sent me...”

“Ah, he sent you! Well, that is just what I anticipated. Now I know everything, everything!” Katerina Ivanovna exclaimed, her eyes suddenly flashing. “Wait, Alexei Fyodorovich, I shall tell you first of all why I was so anxious for you to come. You see, I know perhaps much more even than you do yourself; it’s not news that I need from you. This is what I need from you: I need to know your own personal, last impression of him, I need you to tell me directly, plainly, even coarsely (oh, as coarsely as you like! ) how you yourself see him now and how you see his position after your meeting with him today. It will be better, perhaps, than if I myself, whom he no longer wishes to see, were to discuss it with him personally. Do you understand what I want from you? Now, what is it that he sent you to tell me (I just knew he would send you!)—tell me simply, to the very last word...!”

“He says that he ... bows to you, and that he will never come again and ... that he bows to you.”

“Bows? Did he say that, did he put it that way?”

“Yes.”

“Just in passing, inadvertently, maybe he made a mistake, maybe he used the wrong word?”

“No, he asked me precisely to give you this word, ‘bows.’ He asked about three times, so that I wouldn’t forget to tell you.”

Katerina Ivanovna flushed.

“Help me now, Alexei Fyodorovich, it is now that I need your help. I’ll tell you my thought, and you simply tell me whether my thought is right or not. Listen, if he had asked you to bow to me just in passing, without insisting on the word, without underlining the word, that would be it ... that would be the end! But if he especially insisted on this word, if he especially told you not to forget to convey this bow to me, then it means he was agitated, beside himself perhaps. He had made a decision, and was frightened by his decision! He did not walk away from me with a firm step but leaped headlong off the mountain. That he stressed this word may only be a sign of bravado ...”

“Right, right!” Alyosha ardently agreed, “so it seems to me now.” “And if so, then he hasn’t perished yet! He’s just in despair, but I can still save him. Wait: did he tell you anything about money, about three thousand roubles?”

“He not only told me, but that is perhaps what was killing him most of all. He said he was now deprived of his honor and nothing mattered anymore,” Alyosha ardently replied, feeling with his whole heart that hope was flowing into his heart, and that, indeed, there might be a way out, there might be salvation for his brother. “But do you ... know about this money?” he added, and suddenly stopped short.

“I’ve known for a long time, and for certain. I inquired by telegraph in Moscow and have long known that the money was never received. He never sent the money, but I said nothing. Last week I learned how much he needed and still needs money ... I set myself only one goal in all of this: that he should know who to turn back to, and who is his most faithful friend. No, he does not want to believe that I am his most faithful friend, he has never wanted to know me, he looks on me only as a woman. All week one terrible care has tormented me: how to make it so that he will not be ashamed before me because he spent those three thousand roubles. I mean, let him be ashamed before everyone and before himself, but let him not be ashamed before me. To God he says everything without being ashamed. Why, then, does he still not know how much I can endure for him? Why, why does he not know me, how dare he not know me after all that has happened? I want to save him forever. Let him forget that I am his fiancée! And now he’s afraid before me because of his honor! He wasn’t afraid to open himself to you, Alexei Fyodorovich. Why haven’t I yet deserved the same?”

The last words she spoke in tears; tears gushed from her eyes.

“I must tell you,” said Alyosha, also in a trembling voice, “of what took place just now between him and father.” And he described the whole scene, described how he had been sent to get money, how Mitya had burst in, beaten their father, and after that specifically and insistently confirmed that he, Alyosha, should go and “bow” ... “He went to that woman ... ,” Alyosha added softly.