The Karamazov Brothers

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

  Holding forth in this wild and confused way, Mitya was almost gasping for breath. He was pale, his lips trembled, and tears streamed from his eyes.

  ‘I tell you, life is glorious,’ he began anew, ‘life goes on, even underground! You’re not going to believe how desperately I want to live now, Alyosha, what a yearning for existence and awareness has been born in me, right here, within these peeling walls! Rakitin wouldn’t understand that, all he thinks about is building himself a house and filling it with tenants; but it’s you I’ve been waiting for. And what is suffering? I wouldn’t be afraid of it, even if it were infinite. I’m not afraid of it now—I was before. Do you know, I might not answer any questions at the trial… And I think there is so much strength in me now that I shall overcome everything, all the suffering, just in order to be able to say to myself: I am! Be it death by a thousand cuts—I am! Be it torture beyond endurance—I am! I may sit in a dungeon, but I exist; I see the sun, but if I didn’t see the sun, I’d still know it was there. And to know that the sun’s there, that’s the very stuff of life. Alyosha, you cherub, all these philosophies will be the death of me, to hell with them! Ivan!…’

  ‘What about Ivan?’ Alyosha interrupted him, but Mitya went on, oblivious.

  ‘You see, I had none of these doubts before, but they were lurking inside me all the time. Perhaps it’s precisely because, unbeknown to me, ideas were raging in me that I drank and fought and raised hell. I was struggling to quench them within me, to tame them, to suppress them. Ivan is not Rakitin, he harbours an idea. Our brother Ivan is a sphinx, he maintains his silence, and guards it well. But I’m being tortured by the idea of God. That’s the only thing that does torture me. Supposing He doesn’t exist? What if Rakitin is right that the idea is man’s invention? For, if He doesn’t exist, man is master of the world, of all creation. Splendid! Only how is he going to be virtuous without God? That’s the question! I keep coming back to it. Who is he going to love then—man, I mean? To whom is he going to offer his gratitude, to whom is he going to sing his hymn of praise? Rakitin is ridiculous. Rakitin says you don’t need God to love mankind. Only a snotty pipsqueak could assert such a thing, it’s beyond me how he can say that. It’s all right for Rakitin. “You”, he said to me today, “should be fighting for the extension of man’s civic rights, or at least for the price of meat not to go up; that’s the simplest and most direct way of manifesting your love for mankind, rather than by philosophizing.” I came straight back at him: “Without God,” I said, “you’d be the first to raise the price of meat if the opportunity presented itself and there was a rouble or two to be made.” He was furious. But what is virtue? You tell me, Aleksei. I have one sort of virtue, while a Chinaman has another, so—that means the whole thing is relative. Or is it? Perhaps it isn’t relative? It’s a tricky question, and no mistake! You mustn’t laugh if I tell you I lost two nights’ sleep over this. The one thing that really surprises me now is how people can carry on living and never think about it. Too busy with trivialities! But Ivan has no God. He has his own ideas. I’m out of my depth here. But he won’t say much. I think he’s a mason. I asked him about it—he wouldn’t say a word. I wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth—nothing doing. Only once did he let drop a hint.’

  ‘What was that?’ Alyosha latched on to this immediately.

  ‘I said to him, “If that’s the case, then I suppose everything is permitted?” He frowned. “Fyodor Pavlovich,” he said, “our papa, was a proper pig, but he had the right idea.” I was speechless. And that was all he said. That goes even further than Rakitin.’

  ‘Yes,’ Alyosha agreed bitterly. ‘When did he come to see you?’

  ‘We’ll talk about that later, there’s something else I want to tell you now. Up to now I’ve hardly talked to you about Ivan. I’ve been putting it off as long as possible. When all this business with me is over, and they’ve delivered their verdict, I’ll tell you a thing or two, in fact I’ll tell you everything. It’s something that’ll make your hair stand on end… And you’ll be my judge in this matter. But don’t even ask about it for now. You were talking about the trial tomorrow, but would you believe it, I’m completely in the dark.’

  ‘Have you spoken to the lawyer?’

  ‘Ah, the lawyer! I’ve told him all I know. He’s a smooth operator, no flies on him. A Bernard! Didn’t believe a word I said. Just imagine, he thinks I did it—I can see he does. “In that case,” I asked him, “why have you come to defend me?” To hell with them all! They’ve even sent for a doctor, they want to make out I’m mad. It won’t work! Katerina Ivanovna’s determined to do her “duty”, come what may. By fair means or foul!’ Mitya smiled bitterly. ‘Vixen! Cruel as they come! And she knows exactly what I said about her that time in Mokroye, that she’s a woman of infinite fury. Someone told her. Yes, the evidence has been accumulating, like the desert sands! Grigory has dug his heels in. Grigory’s honest, but stupid. A lot of people are honest because they’re stupid. That’s one of Rakitin’s theories. Grigory’s my enemy. There are some people it’s better to have as enemies than as friends. I’m talking about Katerina Ivanovna now. One thing frightens me, frightens me to death—that she’ll tell them at the trial how she curtsied to me when I gave her the four thousand five hundred roubles! She’ll pay me back to the uttermost farthing.* I can do without her sacrifice! They’ll humiliate me at the trial! But I’ll survive somehow! Go and see her for me, Alyosha, ask her not to mention that at the trial. What, you can’t? Never mind, I’ll survive! But I’m not sorry for her. She’s brought it upon herself. She’s got her just deserts. I’ll have my say, Aleksei.’ Again he smiled bitterly. ‘Only… only what of Grusha, what of Grusha? O Lord! Why should she have taken this cross upon herself?’ he exclaimed, with tears in his eyes. ‘Grusha’s killing me, the thought of her is killing me, it’s killing me! She was here not long ago…’

  ‘She told me. She was very upset about you today.’

  ‘I know. My temper will be the downfall of me. I got a bit jealous! I took it all back when we were saying goodbye, and I kissed her. But I didn’t say I was sorry.’

  ‘Why not?’ exclaimed Alyosha.

  Mitya laughed almost cheerfully.

  ‘My dear boy, God forbid that you should ever say you’re sorry for what you’ve done to a woman you love! Especially to the one you love, her of all women, however guilty you are! Because a woman, my dear fellow, is something else altogether, take my word, I happen to know a thing or two about them! You just try and confess your guilt and say to her, “I’m guilty, pardon me, forgive me,” and you’ll never hear the end of it! She’ll make such a meal of it, you won’t know whether you’re coming or going for humiliation, she’ll invent things that never existed, she’ll fling everything at you, she’ll forget nothing, she’ll pile it on, and only then will she pardon you. And that’s if you’re lucky! She’ll scrape the barrel and throw it in your face—that, I tell you, is how bloodthirsty they are, every single one of the angels without whom our lives would simply be inconceivable! Look, my dear boy, you can take it from me: every decent man must be under the heel of a woman. That’s my conviction; no, not conviction—feeling. A man has to submit magnanimously, and it will never be held against him. It wouldn’t even be held against a hero, against even Caesar himself! All the same, never ask forgiveness, never, not for anything. Just remember that rule, taught to you by your brother Mitya, who came to grief himself because of women. No, I’ll try winning Grusha’s favour some other way than by asking her forgiveness. I worship her, Aleksei, I worship her! It’s just that she doesn’t see it, no, she can never get enough love. And she tortures me, she tortures me with her love. It’s all different now! Before, it was just the infernal voluptuousness of her body that gave me no peace, but now I’ve absorbed the whole of her soul into my soul and, through her, have turned into a human being myself! Will they let us marry? If they don’t, I’ll die of bitterness. I can’t help it; I keep imagining things all the time�
� What did she say to you about me?’

  Alyosha repeated in full all that Grushenka had said previously. Mitya listened in silence, paying attention to every detail, asked him to go over many points again, and was well satisfied by the end.

  ‘So she’s not angry that I’m jealous!’ he exclaimed. ‘What a woman: “I’ve a cruel streak myself.” I love them when they’re cruel like that, even though I can’t stand all this jealousy, I really can’t! We’re bound to fight. But I shall love her—I shall love her for ever. Will they let us get married? They don’t let criminals marry, do they? That’s the question. But I can’t live without her…’

  Mitya paced across the room, frowning. It was getting rather dark in the room. Suddenly he became terribly worried.

  ‘So it’s a secret, she says, a secret? She thinks there’s three of us conspiring against her, and that Katka’s in on it, too. No, my dear Grushenka, you’re wrong. You’ve slipped up there, slipped up in your silly, feminine way! Right you are, Alyosha, old chap! I’m going to reveal our secret to you!’

  He looked about him in every direction, stepped right up to Alyosha, who was standing in front of him, and began to whisper with an air of mystery, although in actual fact no one could overhear: the old guard was dozing in a corner on a bench, and no sound could possibly reach the soldiers on sentry duty.

  ‘I’ll reveal the whole of our secret to you!’ whispered Mitya. ‘I meant to tell you anyway; do you imagine I can take any kind of decision without you? You’re everything to me! Even if I say that Ivan’s the boss, you’re my cherub. Your decision alone will count. Perhaps it’s you, rather than Ivan, who’s the boss after all. You see, this is a matter of conscience, a matter of supreme conscience—the secret’s so important that I shan’t be able to cope myself, and I’ve decided to postpone any decision until you can deal with it. However, it’s still too early to make a decision, because we’ve got to wait for the verdict; you’ll decide my fate when the sentence has been passed. Don’t do anything now. I’ll tell you all about it; just listen, but don’t say whether you agree or not. Just stand still and keep quiet. I shan’t tell you everything. I’ll only reveal the idea behind it, no details, and don’t say a word. No questions, no gestures, agreed? Lord, though, how can I avoid those eyes of yours? I’m afraid I’ll be able to tell from your eyes even if you don’t say a word. That’s what I’m afraid of! Listen, Alyosha, Ivan says I should make a run for it. I shan’t go into detail, it’s all planned, everything can be arranged. Don’t say a word and don’t give your verdict now. I’m going to flee to America with Grusha. I can’t possibly live without Grusha! Suppose they won’t let her go with me, though! Do they let convicts get married? Ivan says they don’t. And what can I do underground with a pickaxe and without Grusha? I’d crack my own skull with that pick! But then again, what about conscience? That would be running away from suffering! I’d have seen the star and refused to follow it; I’d have been shown the path to redemption and turned away. Ivan says that, “with the right intentions”, one can do more good in America than underground. Well, and where will our underground hymn be sung? And America, America means more problems! I’m sure there’s plenty of villainy in America, too. I’d be running away from crucifixion. The only reason I’m telling you this, Aleksei, is because you alone, and no one else, can understand; for others, everything I’ve told you about the hymn would be a lot of nonsense, sheer ranting. They’d say I’d gone crazy, or that I was just an idiot. But I haven’t gone crazy and I’m not an idiot. Ivan understands about the hymn, he really does, only he won’t talk about it, he just keeps quiet. He doesn’t believe in the hymn. Don’t say a word, not a word, I can see by the way you look that you’ve already formed an opinion! Please don’t decide, spare me, I can’t live without Grusha, wait till the trial’s over.’

  Mitya stopped, staring as though demented. He was holding Alyosha by his shoulders, and his eager, feverish gaze bored right through Alyosha’s eyes.

  ‘Do they let convicts marry?’ he repeated for the third time, in a pleading voice.

  Alyosha, deeply shaken, had been listening with astonishment.

  ‘Tell me one thing,’ he said, ‘was Ivan very insistent, and whose idea was it in the first place?’

  ‘His. He thought it up, and he’s adamant about it! He’d never visited me and then suddenly, a week ago, he turned up and came to the point straight away. He was terribly insistent. He didn’t ask, he just ordered me. He doesn’t doubt for a minute that I’ll obey, even though I’ve bared my whole soul to him, as I have to you, and I told him about the hymn. He’s told me how he’s going to arrange everything, that he’s got all the information—but of that later. He desperately wants me to go. The main thing is money. He said he’d got ten thousand for me for the escape, and twenty thousand for America, and that we’d manage to organize a successful escape with ten thousand.’

  ‘And he really told you not to say anything to me?’ Alyosha enquired once more.

  ‘Not to anyone, least of all to you, not under any circumstances! He’s probably afraid you’ll act as my conscience. Don’t let on I’ve told you, whatever you do!’

  ‘You’re right,’ decided Alyosha, ‘one can’t come to a decision before the verdict of the court. After the trial you’ll be able to decide for yourself; you’ll find a new man in you then, and he’ll decide.’

  ‘A new man, or a Bernard who’ll come to a Bernard-type decision! Because, if the truth be known, I’m just a miserable Bernard myself!’ Mitya smiled bitterly.

  ‘But, Mitya, do you really and truly feel there’s no hope of an acquittal?’

  Mitya shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  ‘Alyosha, my dear fellow, it’s time you went!’ he started to fuss. ‘The warden has just called out in the yard, he’ll be here any moment. It’s getting late, it’s after visiting time. Give me a hug, kiss me, give me your blessing, my dear fellow, give me your blessing before I set off for my Calvary tomorrow…’

  They embraced and kissed each other.

  ‘And our Ivan, he’s a fine one,’ said Mitya suddenly, ‘he suggested I should make a run for it, and yet he believes that I’m the murderer!’

  A sad, forced smile appeared on his lips.

  ‘Did you ask him if he really believed that?’ enquired Alyosha.

  ‘No, I didn’t. I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t, I didn’t have the strength. But what does it matter, I could see it in his eyes. Well, goodbye!’

  They kissed each other once more, hastily, and Alyosha was nearly out of the room when Mitya suddenly called him back.

  ‘Stand in front of me, like that.’

  And again he grabbed Alyosha firmly by the shoulders. His face suddenly became very pale and seemed to stand out in the semi-gloom. His lips twisted, his gaze bored into Alyosha.

  ‘Alyosha, tell me the whole truth, before God: do you believe that I killed him, or don’t you? You, what do you believe, do you believe it or not? The whole truth now, don’t lie to me!’ he shouted excitedly.

  Alyosha seemed to sway on his feet, and he felt a sharp stab of pain in his heart.

  ‘Stop it, what’s come over you?…’, he mumbled, distraught.

  ‘The whole truth, all of it, don’t lie to me!’ repeated Mitya.

  ‘I didn’t believe for a single second that you were the murderer,’ the words burst out in a trembling voice, and he raised his right hand as though calling upon God to be his witness. Mitya’s face immediately lit up with exultation.

  ‘Thank you!’ he said, drawing out the words as though exhaling after fainting. ‘You’ve given me a new lease of life… Would you believe it: right up till now I’ve been afraid to ask you, imagine, afraid of you! Well, off you go now, go! You’ve given me the strength to face tomorrow, God bless you! Be off! You must love Ivan!’ These last words burst from Mitya’s lips.

  Alyosha left in tears. Such guardedness on Mitya’s part, such mistrust even towards him—Alyosha—revealed to Al
yosha a veritable abyss of grief and despair in his hapless brother’s soul such as he could never have suspected previously. Deep, limitless compassion suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted him. His stricken heart ached unbearably. ‘Love Ivan!’ Mitya’s words echoed in him. And now he was on his way to see Ivan. He had been longing to see him since the morning. Ivan worried him no less than Mitya, and now, since his heart-to-heart with the latter, he was even more fearful about Ivan.

  5

  NOT YOU, NOT YOU!

  ON his way to Ivan he had to pass the house where Katerina Ivanovna lived. There was a light in the window. He stopped and decided to go in. He had not seen Katerina Ivanovna for over a week. It occurred to him that Ivan was maybe with her now, especially on the eve of such a day. He rang the bell and went in. By the dim light of the Chinese lantern he noticed someone coming down the stairs and, as he drew nearer he recognized Ivan. He was apparently just leaving.