‘I’ve come…’, mumbled Alyosha in confusion, ‘I… he sent me…’
‘Oh, he sent you,’ exclaimed Katerina Ivanovna with a sudden glint in her eyes, ‘well, that’s just what I expected. Now I know everything, all there is to know. Wait, Aleksei Fyodorovich, I’ll tell you first why I’ve been so anxious to see you. You see, maybe I know much more than you do yourself; it’s not information I need from you. You must give me your very own personal and honest opinion about him, you must be absolutely direct and frank, even cruel (be as cruel as you wish!), about what you think of him and of his attitude now, after your meeting with him today. This would be better, perhaps, than if I myself, whom he no longer wishes to see, were to seek an explanation from him personally. Do you understand what it is I want from you? So why has he sent you to me now? (I was sure he would send you to me!) Be frank, tell me the truth!’
‘He bade me convey to you… his regards, and tell you that he’ll never see you again… he sends his regards.’
‘His regards? Is that what he said, his very words?’
‘Yes.’
‘Perhaps he said it on the spur of the moment, spontaneously, came out with the wrong word without meaning to?’
‘No, that is the precise word he asked me to convey to you: “regards”. He told me about three times not to forget it.’
Katerina Ivanovna flushed.
‘Help me now, Aleksei Fyodorovich, I really need your help now: I’ll tell you what’s on my mind, and all I’m asking you to do is to say whether I’m right or not. Listen, had he sent me his regards on the spur of the moment, without insisting on the precise word, without emphasizing the particular word, then that would have been the end… That would have been the end of everything! But as he kept insisting on that word, as he specifically asked you not to forget to convey to me that form of words— then it follows that he was agitated, that he was beside himself, perhaps? He had made a decision and taken fright! Instead of walking boldly away from me, he jumped headlong into the abyss. Emphasizing this word can only be a sign of bravado…’
‘That’s right!’ Alyosha agreed eagerly, ‘that’s how it seems to me too.’
‘In that case, there’s hope for him yet! He’s only in a state of despair, but I can still save him. Wait: he didn’t mention anything to you about money, a sum of three thousand roubles, did he?’
‘Not only did he mention it, but that’s probably what’s been weighing upon him most of all. He said he had lost his honour and that nothing mattered any more,’ Alyosha replied eagerly, sensing with every fibre that hope was flowing back into his heart, and that perhaps there was a way out and a chance of saving his brother. ‘But how is it… you know about this money?’ he added, and suddenly cut himself short.
‘I’ve known about it for a long time, and I know for sure. I telegraphed Moscow and I’ve known for some time that the money hasn’t arrived. He didn’t send it, but I didn’t say anything. During the past week I’ve found out that he’s desperate for even more… My only aim in all this was that he should know who to turn to and who his most loyal friend is. But he doesn’t want to believe that I’m his most loyal friend, he doesn’t want to recognize me for what I am, he sees me only as a woman. All week long I’ve been racking my brains, trying to think how to stop him feeling shamed before me for having squandered those three thousand roubles. I mean, let him be shamed before everybody, himself included, but not before me. After all, he tells God everything without feeling ashamed. Then why is it he still doesn’t know how much I can endure for his sake! Why, why doesn’t he know me, how dare he not know me, after all that’s passed between us? I want to save him for ever. He should forget that I’m his fiancée! And now he fears his honour is besmirched in my sight! Look, Aleksei Fyodorovich, he wasn’t afraid to confide in you, was he? Why is it I still haven’t earned the same confidence?’
She spoke the last words in tears; tears were streaming from her eyes.
‘I must tell you’, Alyosha said, his voice trembling too, ‘what has just passed between him and father.’ And he described the whole scene; he told her how Dmitry had sent him to get some money, how he had then burst in, assaulted his father, and made a point of insisting that he, Alyosha, should go and convey his, Dmitry’s, regards… ‘He went to that woman…’, Alyosha added softly.
‘And do you think I shan’t be able to reconcile myself to that woman? Does he think that too? But he’s not going to marry her,’ she said suddenly, with a nervous laugh, ‘surely even a Karamazov can’t burn with a passion of that sort for ever? It’s lust, not love… He’s not going to marry her, because she won’t have him…’, Katerina Ivanovna added with another of her strange smiles.
‘Perhaps he will marry her,’ Alyosha said sadly, his gaze lowered.
‘He won’t marry her, I tell you. That girl’, Katerina Ivanovna suddenly exclaimed with unusual fervour, ‘is an angel, do you realize that? Do you? She’s the most fantastic of all fantastic beings! I know how seductive she is, but I also know how good, how trustworthy and how noble she is. Why do you look at me like that, Aleksei Fyodorovich? Perhaps you’re surprised at my words, perhaps you don’t believe me. Agrafena Aleksandrovna, my angel!’ she called out suddenly to someone in the next room, ‘come and join us, it’s a good kind person, it’s Alyosha, he knows all about us, come and show yourself to him!’
‘I was just waiting behind the curtain for you to call,’ said a gentle, sugary, woman’s voice.
The curtain over the door was pulled aside and… Grushenka herself, all sweetness and smiles, approached the table. Alyosha gaped in disbelief. His eyes were riveted on her and he could not tear them away. Here she was, that terrible woman—that ‘dangerous animal’, as Ivan had called her barely half an hour before. And yet there stood before him, it would seem, a very simple and ordinary woman, kind and pleasant—beautiful, certainly, yet very much like all other beautiful but ‘ordinary’ women! Certainly, she was extremely attractive—with that kind of Russian beauty that is so passionately adored by many men. She was tall, though somewhat shorter than Katerina Ivanovna (the latter was very tall), plump, and her movements were soft and silent, refined, it would seem, like her voice, to an excess of sensuality. She did not approach as Katerina Ivanovna had done, with a confident, brisk stride, but inaudibly. Her feet made not the slightest sound on the floor. With a soft rustling of her luxurious black silk dress, she gently lowered herself into an armchair, ostentatiously wrapping an expensive black woollen shawl round her full, milky-white neck and plump shoulders. She was twenty-two years old, and her face precisely reflected that age. Her complexion was very pale, with just a hint of rosiness in her cheeks. Her face was almost too broad, and her lower jaw even protruded a little. Her upper lip was thin, and the slightly prominent lower one, twice as thick, appeared a little pouting. But her magnificent, luxuriant dark-brown hair, her dark sable eyebrows, and her delightful greyish-blue eyes with their long lashes would have made even the most casual and inattentive passer-by, walking in the hustle and bustle of a crowd, stop dead in his tracks and remember that face long afterwards. What astounded Alyosha most of all was her child-like, simplehearted expression. Her gaze was that of a child, joyful and radiant like a child’s as she now approached the table, as though expecting something, full of the most child-like impatience and trusting curiosity. The look in her eyes gladdened the heart, Alyosha felt. There was something else about her which he could not define, but of which he was instinctively aware; once again, it was the softness and suppleness of her movements, the feline stealth of those movements. And yet she had a strong, generously built body. Under her shawl one could discern broad, rounded shoulders and the firm breasts of a young girl. This body promised to take on the shape of a Venus de Milo, although inevitably in somewhat exaggerated proportions—one could not help but feel this even now. Connoisseurs of Russian female beauty, looking at Grushenka, could unfailingly have predicted that, by the age of thirty, this still fres
h, youthful beauty would lose its harmony, become obese, her face would sag, lines would quickly appear on her forehead and round her eyes, her complexion would perhaps turn coarse and redden—in a word, it was an ephemeral, fleeting beauty, of a kind so often encountered in Russian women. It goes without saying that Alyosha did not dwell on this, but though he was charmed, he kept asking himself with an unpleasant feeling of regret why she spoke with a drawl instead of naturally. Evidently, she found this drawling delivery and cloying emphasis of sounds and syllables attractive. Of course, this might simply have been a bad habit in bad taste, indicative of an unrefined background and of a misconception from childhood of what was proper. Certainly, Alyosha felt this pronunciation and intonation to be a gross incongruity alongside the childishly guileless, joyful expression of her face, the soft, happy, youthful radiance of her eyes! In a trice, Katerina Ivanovna had seated her in an armchair facing Alyosha and rapturously kissed her several times on her smiling lips. It was as though she were in love with her.
‘This is the first time we have seen each other, Aleksei Fyodorovich,’ she said in transports of delight, ‘I wanted to get to know her, to meet her, I’ve been wanting to go and visit her, but as soon as I expressed my wish to see her, she came to see me herself. I knew very well that together we would resolve everything, everything! My heart told me that… Everyone tried to dissuade me from taking this step, but I knew it would work and I wasn’t mistaken. Grushenka has explained everything to me, all her intentions; she has descended like a ministering angel, bringing peace and joy…’
‘You didn’t shun me, my sweet, kind lady,’ Grushenka drawled in her singsong voice, still with that same sweet, radiant smile.
‘Don’t you dare say such words, you delightful, enchanting creature! Shun you? There, I’ll kiss that lower lip of yours again. It looks as if it’s a little swollen, so let’s make it swell a little more, and more, and again some more… Look at her laughing, Aleksei Fyodorovich. It makes one’s heart glad to look at this angel…’ Alyosha kept blushing, seized by a barely perceptible trembling.
‘You’re spoiling me, sweet lady, why, I’m quite unworthy of your affection.’
‘Unworthy! She thinks she’s unworthy!’ Katerina Ivanovna exclaimed with the same fervour. ‘Listen, Aleksei Fyodorovich, we’ve a unique little mind, but we’ve a wilful and proud, ever such a proud little heart! We’re noble, Aleksei Fyodorovich, we’re magnanimous, do you realize that? We were just unfortunate! We were too ready to make any kind of sacrifice for the sake of an unworthy or, you might say, frivolous person. There was this officer, we fell in love with him, we laid everything at his feet, this was a long time ago, five years in fact, but he abandoned us and went off and got married. Now he’s a widower and has written to say he’s coming—and don’t forget, he’s the only man we’ve ever loved and will continue to love all our life! He’ll come, and Grushenka will be happy again after five years of unhappiness. But who will reproach her, who can boast of her favours? No one except that crippled old merchant—and he has been more of a father to us, a friend, a protector. He found us in desperate straits then, in torment, abandoned by the man we loved so much… Do you know, she was going to drown herself, and it was that old gentleman who saved her, he actually saved her!’
‘You’re being too protective towards me, dear lady,’ Grushenka drawled again, ‘you do rather exaggerate everything.’
‘Me, too protective? It’s not for me to protect you; in any case, what right have I to offer protection? Grushenka, my angel, let me have your hand, just look at this wonderful, plump little hand of hers, Aleksei Fyodorovich; can you see it, it has brought me happiness and helped me to be reborn, and I’m going to kiss it now, first on one side and then on the little palm, there, there, and there!’ And, as though in ecstasy, she went on to kiss Grushenka’s truly delightful, but perhaps slightly over-plump hand three times. The latter held it out with a nervous, deliciously ringing laugh as she watched, with obvious enjoyment, the ‘dear lady’ kissing her hand in this way. ‘This rapture is perhaps rather overdone,’ the thought flashed through Alyosha’s mind. He blushed. All the time he had been feeling, for some reason, particularly uneasy at heart.
‘You shouldn’t embarrass me, dear lady, kissing my hand so, in front of Aleksei Fyodorovich.’
‘But I had no intention of embarrassing you!’ Katerina Ivanovna said, somewhat surprised. ‘Oh, how you misunderstand me, my dear!’
‘Ah, but perhaps you too, dear lady, have not quite understood me either, perhaps I’m much worse than I appear to you. I’m wicked and wilful. When I broke poor Dmitry Fyodorovich’s heart that time, I did it just for fun.’
‘But now you’re going to save him. You’ve given your word. You’ll make him understand, you’ll make it clear to him that you’ve been in love with someone else for a long time, and that now he’s coming to offer you his hand…’
‘Oh no, I never gave you any such word. It was you who kept saying this to me, but I never made any promises.’
‘Then I must have misunderstood you,’ Katerina Ivanovna said quietly, blanching a little. ‘You did promise…’
‘Oh no, my sweet angel-lady, I never promised you anything,’ interrupted Grushenka softly but firmly, maintaining the same innocent and blithe demeanour. ‘It must be quite clear to you now, worthy lady, how nasty and headstrong I am compared to you. I do just as I please. Perhaps I did make you a promise earlier, but only just now I was saying to myself: “Supposing Mitya takes my fancy again—after all, he did once… for nearly an hour. So perhaps I’ll go to him and tell him that from now on he must stay with me… See how unpredictable I am?…’
‘That’s not…’, Katerina Ivanovna gasped, ‘what you said before.’
‘Oh, before! But you know how silly and spoilt I am. Just think how much he had to suffer because of me! And supposing I went home and took pity on him—what then?’
‘I didn’t expect this…’
‘Oh, my lady, how good and noble you are compared to someone like me. And now you probably won’t love me any more because of my character, silly me… Give me your sweet hand, my darling lady,’ she said softly, taking hold of Katerina Ivanovna’s hand with apparent deference. ‘There, my darling lady, I’ll take your hand and kiss it, just like you did mine. You kissed it three times, I ought to kiss yours three hundred times to repay you. So be it, the rest is in God’s hands: perhaps I’ll be your slave and carry out all your wishes slavishly. As God has willed, so let it be, whatever we may have agreed or promised to each other. Your hand, your hand, what a sweet little hand you have! My darling lady, how impossibly lovely you are!’
She began slowly to draw the hand to her lips, for all the world as though proposing to go ahead with her bizarre intention of ‘repaying’ those kisses. Katerina Ivanovna did not withdraw her hand; grasping at straws, she listened to Grushenka’s bizarre promise to carry out all her wishes ‘slavishly’; she kept looking intently into her eyes, and still saw in them the same expression of simple-hearted trust, the same bright cheerfulness… ‘Perhaps she’s just too naïve!’ Katerina Ivanovna thought, a glimmer of hope fluttering in her breast. Meanwhile, as though in raptures at the ‘sweet little hand’, Grushenka continued to draw it slowly to her lips. But just when they were nearly touching it, she hesitated, as though pausing for reflection.
‘You know, my darling lady,’ she drawled in the gentlest, sweetest little voice imaginable, ‘you know, I think I’d rather not kiss your hand after all.’ And she broke into a cheerful little giggle.
‘As you please… What’s the matter with you?’ Katerina Ivanovna suddenly shuddered.
‘I want you always to remember that you kissed my hand, but I refused to kiss yours.’ There was a sudden glint in her eyes. She stared into Katerina Ivanovna’s eyes with a terrible intensity.
‘Impudent hussy!’ Katerina Ivanovna yelled out, as though she had suddenly understood something, and leapt to her feet. Grushenka stood up, to
o, but in her own time.
‘That’s just what I’ll tell Mitya; you kissed my hand, but I didn’t kiss yours. Won’t it make him laugh!’
‘Out, you trollop!’
‘For shame, lady, for shame, that you should be using such unbecoming language, dear lady.’
‘Get out, you money-grubbing trollop!’ yelled Katerina Ivanovna. Her whole face was contorted and quivering.
‘Money-grubbing too, my, my. Who was it, my young lady, that went to her gentlemen friends when it was dark to ask for money, offering her beauty for sale? Yes, I know all about it.’
Katerina Ivanovna shrieked and was about to pounce on Grushenka, but Alyosha restrained her with all his strength.
‘Calm down, let her be! Don’t say anything, don’t answer her, she’s going, she’s going now!’
At this moment both of Katerina Ivanovna’s aunts, hearing the shriek, ran into the room followed by the maid. They all rushed towards her.
‘Yes, I’m going now,’ Grushenka said, picking up her mantilla from the sofa. ‘Alyosha darling, take me home!’
‘Leave now, immediately!’ Alyosha begged her, his hands pressed together in supplication.
‘Darling Alyoshenka, take me home! I’ve got something really nice to tell you on the way! I made that little scene all for you, Alyoshenka. Do see me home, sweetheart, you’ll be so pleased afterwards.’
Alyosha turned away, wringing his hands. Grushenka ran out of the house, her voice ringing with laughter.
Katerina Ivanovna was having hysterics. She sobbed convulsively, gasping for breath. Everyone was fussing round her.
‘I warned you,’ the elder aunt said to her, ‘I tried to stop you doing this… you would have your own way… what possessed you to do such a thing! You’ve no idea what these creatures are like, and as for this one, they say she’s the worst of the lot… You’re too headstrong!’
‘She’s a vixen!’ Katerina Ivanovna screamed. ‘Why on earth did you stop me, Aleksei Fyodorovich, I’d have beaten her to a pulp!’
The Karamazov Brothers Page 25
