 Part 2. Book 4. Chapter 1. Of the Brothers Karamazov. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Philippa Brody. The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Translated by Konstantz Garnet. Part 2. Book 4. Lacerations. Chapter 1. Father Feripont. Alyosha was roused early, before daybreak. Father Zosna woke up feeling very weak, though he wanted to get out of bed and sit up in a chair. His mind was quite clear. His face looked very tired, yet bright and almost joyful. It wore an expression of gaiety, kindness and cordiality. Maybe I shall not live through the coming day," he said to Alyosha. Then he decided to confess and take the sacrament at once. He always confessed to Father Pasey. After taking the communion, the services of extreme unction followed. The monks assembled and the cell was gradually filled up by the inmates of the hermitage. Meantime it was daylight. People began coming from the monastery. After the service was over, the elder decided to kiss and take leave of everyone. As the cell was so small, the earlier visitors withdrew to make room for others. Alyosha stood beside the elder, who was seated again in his armchair. He talked as much as he could. Though his voice was weak, it was fairly steady. I've been teaching you so many years, and therefore I've been talking aloud so many years, that I've gotten to the habit of talking, and so much so that it's almost more difficult for me to hold my tongue than to talk, even now, in spite of my weakness, dear fathers and brothers," he gested, looking with emotion at the group round him. Alyosha remembered afterwards something of what he said to them. But though he spoke out distinctly and his voice was fairly steady, his speech was somewhat disconnected. He spoke of many things. He seemed anxious before the moment of death to say everything he had not said in his life, and not simply for the sake of instructing them, but as though thirsting to share with all men and all creation his joy and ecstasy, and once more in his life to open his whole heart. "'Love one another, fathers,' said Father Zosima, as far as Alyosha could remember afterwards. "'Love God's people, because we have come here and shut ourselves within these walls. We are no holier than those that are outside, but on the contrary, from the very fact of coming here, each of us has confessed to himself that he is worse than others, than all men on earth, and the longer the monk lives in this occlusion, the more keenly he must recognise that. Else he would have had no reason to come here. When he realises that he is not only worse than others, but that he is responsible to all men, for all, and everything, for all human sins, national, and individual, only then the aim of our seclusion is attained. For no, dear ones, that every one of us is undoubtedly responsible for all men and everything on earth, not merely through the general sinfulness of creation, but each one personally for all mankind and every individual man. This knowledge is the crown of life for the monk and for every man. For monks are not a special sort of men, but only what all men ought to be. Only through that knowledge our heart grows soft with infinite, universal, inexhaustible love. Then every one of you will have the power to win over the whole world by love and to wash away the sins of the world with your tears. Each of you keep watch over your heart and confess your sins to yourselves unceasingly. Be not afraid of your sins, even when perceiving them, if only there be penitence, but make no conditions with God. Again I say, be not proud. Be proud neither to the little nor to the great. Hate not those who reject you, who insult you, who abuse and slander you. Hate not the atheists, the teachers of evil, the materialists. And I mean not only the good ones, for there are many good ones among them, especially in our day. Hate not even the wicked ones. Remember them in your prayers thus. Save, O Lord, all those who have none to pray for them. Save too all those who will not pray. And add, it is not in pride that I make this prayer, O Lord, for I am lower than all men. Love God's people. Let not strangers draw away the flock, for if you slumber in your slothfulness and disdainful pride, or worse still in covetousness, they will come from all sides and draw away your flock. Expound the gospel to the people unceasingly. Be not extortionate. Do not love gold and silver. Do not hoard them. Have faith, cling to the banner, and raise it on high. But the elder spoke more disconnectedly than Alosha reported his words afterwards. Sometimes he broke off altogether, as though to take breath and recover his strength. But he was in a sort of ecstasy. They heard him with emotion, though many wondered at his words and found them obscure. Afterwards all remembered those words. When Alosha happened for a moment to leave the cell, he was struck by the general excitement and suspense of the monks who were crowding about it. This anticipation showed itself in some by anxiety, in others by devout solemnity. All were expecting that some marvel would happen immediately after the elder's death. Their suspense was from one point of view almost frivolous, but even the most austere of the monks were affected by it. Father Pasey's face looked the gravest of all. Alosha was mysteriously summoned by a monk to see Rackettin, who had arrived from town with a singular letter for him from Madame Holokov. In it she informed Alosha of a strange and very opportune incident. It appeared that among the women who had come on the previous day to receive Father Zosima's blessing, there had been an old woman from the town, a sergeant's widow, called Prahorovna. She had inquired whether she might pray for the rest of the soul of her son Vasenka, who had gone to Urkuts, and had sent her no news for over a year, to which Father Zosima had answered sternly, forbidding her to do so, and saying that to pray for the living as though they were dead was a kind of sorcery. He afterwards forgave her on account of her ignorance, and added, As though reading the book of the future, this was Madame Holokov's expression, words of comfort, that her son Vasenka was certainly alive, and that he would either come himself very shortly, or send a letter, and that she was to go home and to expect him. And would you believe it, explained Madame Holokov enthusiastically, the prophecy has been fulfilled literally indeed, and more than that. Scarcely had the old woman reached her home, when they gave her a letter from Siberia which had been awaiting her. But that was not all, in the letter written on the road from Ekaterinenberg, Vasya informed his mother that he was returning to Russia with an official, and that three weeks after her receiving the letter, he hoped to embrace his mother. Madame Holokov warmly entreated Alyosha to report this new miracle of prediction to the superior and all the brotherhood. All, all ought to know of it, she concluded. The letter had been written in haste, the excitement of the writer was apparent in every line of it. But Alyosha had no need to tell the monks, for all knew of it already. Raketin had commissioned the monk, who brought his message, to inform most respectfully his reverence Father Pacey, that he, Raketin, has a matter to speak of with him, of such gravity that he dare not defer it for a moment, and humbly begs forgiveness for his presumption. As the monk had given the message to Father Pacey, before that to Alyosha, the letter found after reading the letter, there was nothing left for him to do but hand it to Father Pacey in confirmation of the story. And even that austere and cautious man, though he frowned as he read the news of the miracle, could not completely restrain some inner emotion. His eyes gleamed, and a grave and solemn smile came into his lips. We shall see greater things, broke from him. We shall see greater things, greater things yet, the monks around repeated. But Father Pacey frowning again, begged all of them, at least for a time, not to speak of the matter, till it be more fully confirmed, seeing there is so much credulity amongst those of this world, and indeed this might well have chanced naturally, he added, prudently, as if it were to satisfy his conscience, though scarcely believing his own disavowal, a fact that his listeners very clearly perceived. Within the hour the miracle was of course known to the whole monastery, and many visitors who had come for the Mass. No one seemed more impressed by it than the monk who had come the day before from Saint Sylvester, from the little monastery of Obdorsk, in the far north. It was he who had been standing near Madame Holikov, the previous day, and had asked Father Zosima earnestly, referring to the healing of the lady's daughter. How can you presume to do such things? He was now somewhat puzzled and did not know whom to believe. The evening before he had visited Father Ferepont in his cell apart, behind the apiary, and had been greatly impressed and overawed by the visit. This Father Ferepont was that aged monk so devout in fasting and observing silence, who has been mentioned already, as antagonistic to Father Zosima and the whole institution of elders, which he regarded as a pernicious and frivolous innovation. He was a very formidable opponent, although from his practice of silence he scarcely spoke a word to anyone. What made him formidable was that a number of monks fully shared his feeling, and many of the visitors looked upon him as a great saint and ascetic, although they had no doubt that he was crazy. But it was just his craziness that attracted them. Father Ferepont never went to see the elder. Though he lived in the hermitage, they did not worry him to keep its regulations, and this too because he behaved as though he were crazy. He was seventy-five or more, and he lived in a corner beyond the apiary, in an old decaying wooden cell which had been built a long time ago for another great ascetic, Father Iona, who had lived to be a hundred and five, and whose saintly doings many curious stories were still extant in the monastery and the neighborhood. Father Ferepont had succeeded in getting himself installed in this same solitary cell seven years previously. It was simply a peasant's hut, though it looked like a chapel, for it contained an extraordinary number of icons with lamps perpetually burning before them, which men brought to the monastery as offerings to God. Father Ferepont had been appointed to look after them and keep the lamps burning. It was said, and indeed it was true, that he ate only two pounds of bread in three days. The beekeeper who lived close by the apiary used to bring him the bread every three days, and even to this man who waited upon him, Father Ferepont rarely uttered a word. The four pounds of bread, together with the sacrament bread, regularly sent him on Sundays after the late Mass by the Father Superior, made up his weekly rations. The water in his jug was changed every day. He rarely appeared at Mass. Visitors who came to do him homage saw him sometimes kneeling all day long at prayer without looking round. If he addressed them, he was brief, abrupt, strange, and almost always rude. On very rare occasions, however, he would talk to visitors, but for the most part he would utter some one strange saying which was a complete riddle, and no entreaties would induce him to pronounce a word in explanation. He was not a priest, but a simple monk. There was a strange belief, chiefly, however, amongst the most ignorant that Father Ferepont had a communication with heavenly spirits and would only converse with them, and so was silent with men. The monk from Obdorsk, having been directed to the apiary by the beekeeper, who was also a very silent and surly monk, went to the corner where Father Ferepont's cell stood. Maybe he will speak, as you are a stranger, and maybe you'll get nothing out of him, the beekeeper had warned him. The monk, as he related afterwards, approached in the utmost apprehension. It was rather late in the evening. Father Ferepont was sitting at the door of his cell on a low bench. A huge old elm was lightly rustling overhead. There was an evening freshness in the air. The monk from Obdorsk bowed down before the saint and asked his blessing, Do you want me to bow down to you, monk? said Father Ferepont. Get up! The monk got up. Blessing be blessed! Sit beside me. Where have you come from? What most struck the poor monk was the fact that, in spite of his strict fasting and great age, Father Ferepont still looked a vigorous old man. He was tall, held himself erect, and had a thin but fresh and healthy face. There was no doubt he still had considerable strength. He was of athletic build. In spite of his age he was not even quite grey and still had very thick hair and a full beard, both of which had once been black. His eyes were grey, large and luminous, but strikingly prominent. He spoke with a broad accent. He was dressed in a peasant's long reddish coat of coarse convict cloth, as it used to be called, and had a stout rope around his waist. His throat and chest were bare. Beneath his coat, his shirt of the coarsest linen showed almost black with dirt, not having been changed for months. They said that he wore irons weighing thirty pounds under his coat. His stockingless feet were thrust in old slippers, almost dropping to pieces. From the little Obdorsk monasteries from St. Sylvester, the monk answered humbly, whilst his keen and inquisitive, but rather frightened and little eyes, kept watch on hermit. I have been at your Sylvesters. I used to stay there. Is Sylvester well? The monk hesitated. You're a senseless lot. How do you keep the fasts? Our dietary is according to the ancient conventional rules. During Lent there are no meals provided for Monday, Wednesday and Friday. For Tuesday and Thursday we have white bread, stewed fruit with honey, wild berries or salt, cabbage and wholemeal stir-about, on Saturday white cabbage soup, noodles with peas, casher all with hemp oil. On weekdays we have dried fish and casher with the cabbage soup. From Monday till Saturday evening, six whole days in the holy week, nothing is cooked, and we have only bread and water and that's baringly, if possible not taking food every day. Just the same as is ordered for the first week in Lent. On good Friday nothing is eaten. In the same way on the Saturday we have to fast till three o'clock and then take a little bread and water and drink a single cup of wine. On holy Thursday we drink wine and have something cooked without oil or not cooked at all in as much as the Laodicean Council lays down for the holy Thursday. It is unseemly by remitting the fast on the holy Thursday to dishonour the whole of Lent. This is how we keep the fast. But what is that compared with you holy father? Added the monk growing more confident. For all year round even at Easter you take nothing but bread and water and what we should eat in two days lasts you full seven. It's truly marvellous, your great abstinence. And mushrooms, asked Father Peribunt suddenly. Mushrooms, repeated the surprised monk. Yes, I can give up their bread, not needing it at all and go away into the forest and live there on the mushrooms or the berries, but they can't give up their bread here wherefore they are in bondage to the devil. Nowadays the unclean deny that there is a need of such fasting. Haughty and unclean is their judgment. Oh, true, sighed the monk. And have you seen devils among them? asked Peribunt. Among them? Among whom? asked the monk timidly. I went to the Father Superior on Trinity Sunday last year. I haven't been since. I saw a devil sitting on one man's chest, hiding under his cassock. Suddenly his horns poked out. Another had one peeping out of his pocket with such sharp eyes. He was afraid of me. Another settles in the unclean belly of one. Another was hanging round a man's neck. And so he was carrying him about without seeing him. You can see spirits? the monk inquired. I tell you, I can see. I can see through them. When I was coming out of the superiors I saw one hiding from me behind the door and a big one, a yard and a half or more high with a thick long grey tail. And the tip of his tail was in the crack of the door. And I was quick and slammed the door, pinching his tail in it. He squealed and began to struggle. And I made the sign of the cross over him three times. And he died on the spot like a crushed spider. He must have rotted there in the corner and be stinking. But they don't see, they don't smell it. It's a year since I've been there. I reveal it to you as you are a stranger. Your words are terrible. But Holy and Blessed Father said the monk growing bolder and bolder. Is it true as they noise abroad even to distant lands about you that you are in continual communication with the Holy Ghost? He does fly down at times. How does he fly down? In what form? As a bird. The Holy Ghost in the form of a dove? There's the Holy Ghost and the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit can appear as other birds. Sometimes a swallow, sometimes a goldfinch, and sometimes as a blue tit. How do you know him from an ordinary tit? He speaks. How does he speak in what language? Human language? And what does he tell you? Why, today he told me that a fool would visit me and ask me unseemly questions. You want to know too much, monk. Terrible are your words, most Holy and Blessed Father. The monk shook his head. But there was a doubtful look in his frightened little eyes. Do you see this tree? Asked Father Ferepont after a pause. I do, Blessed Father. You think it's an elm. But for me it has another shape. What sort of shape? Inquired the monk after a pause of vain expectation. It happens at night. You see those two branches? In the night it is Christ holding out his arms to me and seeking me with those arms. I see it clearly and tremble. It's terrible, terrible. What is the terrible if it's Christ himself? Why, he'll snatch me up and carry me away. Alive? In the spirit and glory of Elijah, haven't you heard? He will take me in his arms and bear me away. Though the monk returned to the cell he was sharing with one of the brothers in considerable perplexity of mind, he still cherished at heart a greater reverence for Father Ferepont than for Father Zosima. He was strongly in favour of fasting and it was not strange that one who kept so rigid of fast as Father Ferepont should see marbles. His words seemed certainly queer but God only could tell what was hidden in those words and were not worse words and acts commonly seen in those who have sacrificed their intellects for the glory of God. The pinching of the devil's tail he was ready and eager to believe and not only in the figurative sense, besides he had before visiting the monastery a strong prejudice against the institution of elders which he only knew of by hearsay and believed to be a pernicious innovation. Before he had been long at the monastery he had detected the secret murmurings of some shallow brothers who disliked the institution. He was besides a meddlesome inquisitive man who poked his nose into everything. This was why the news of the fresh miracle performed by Father Zosima reduced him to extreme perplexity. Alyosha remembered afterwards how their inquisitive guest from Obdorsk had been continually flitting to and fro from one group to another, listening and asking questions among the monks that were crowding within and without the elders' cell. But he did not pay much attention to him at the time and only recollected it afterwards. He had no thought to spare for it indeed for when Father Zosima, feeling tired again, had gone back to bed, he thought of Alyosha as he was closing his eyes and sent for him. Alyosha ran at once. There was no one else in the cell but Father Pasey, Father Ayazov, and the novice puffery. The elder, opening his weary eyes and looking intently at Alyosha, asked him suddenly, Are your people expecting you, my son? Alyosha hesitated. Haven't they need of you? Didn't you promise someone yesterday to see them today? I did promise. To my father, my brothers, others too. You see, you must go. Don't grieve. Be sure I shall not die without your being by to hear my last word. To you I will say that word, my son. It will be my last gift to you. To you, dear son, because you love me. But now go, to keep your promise. Alyosha immediately obeyed, though it was hard to go. But the promise that he should hear his last word on earth, that it should be the last gift to him, Alyosha, sent a thrill of rapture through his soul. He made haste that he might finish what he had to do in the town and return quickly. Father Pasey too uttered some words of exhortation which moved and surprised him greatly. They spoke as they left the cell together. Remember, young man, unceasingly, Father Pasey began, without preface, that the science of this world, which has become a great power, has, especially in the last century, analysed everything divine handed down to us in the holy books. After this cruel analysis the learned of this world have nothing left of all that is sacred of old. But they have only analysed the parts and overlooked the whole, and indeed their blindness is marvellous. Yet the whole still stands steadfast before their eyes and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. Has it not lasted 19 centuries? Is it not still a living, a moving power in the individual soul and in the masses of people? It is still as strong and living even in the souls of atheists who have destroyed everything. For even those who have renounced Christianity and attack it, in their inmost being still follow the Christian ideal. For hither own neither their subtlety, or the ardour of their hearts, has been able to create a higher ideal of man and of virtue than the ideal given by Christ of old. When it has been attempted the result has been only grotesque. Remember this especially, young man, since you are being sent into the world by your departing elder. Maybe, remembering this great day, you will not forget my words, uttered from the heart for your guidance, seeing you are young, and the temptations of the world are great and beyond your strength to endure. Well now go, my orphan. With these words, Father Pacey blessed him. As Alyosha left the monastery and thought them over, he suddenly realised that he had met a new and unexpected friend, a warmly loving teacher in this austere monk who at Hitherow treated him sternly. It was as though Father Zossamer had bequeathed him to him at his death. And perhaps that's just what had passed between them, Alyosha thought suddenly. The philosophic reflections he had just heard so unexpectedly testified to the warmth of Father Pacey's heart. He was in haste to arm the boy's mind for conflict with temptation and to guard the young soul left in his charge with the strongest offence he could imagine. The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky Translated by Konstantz Garnet Book 4, Chapter 2 At His Fathers First of all, Alyosha went to his father. On the way he remembered that his father had insisted the day before that he should come without his brother Ivan seeing him. Why so? Alyosha wondered suddenly. Even if my father has something to say to me alone, why should I go in unseen? Most likely in his excitement yesterday he meant to say something different. He decided. Yet he was very glad when Marfa Egnatyevna, who opened the garden gate to him, grigory it appeared was ill in bed in the lodge, told him in answer to his question that Ivan Fyodorovich had gone out two hours ago. And my father? He is up taking his coffee, Marfa answered somewhat dryly. Alyosha went in. The old man was sitting alone at the table, wearing slippers and a little old overcoat. He was amusing himself by looking through some accounts, rather inattentively, however. He was quite alone in the house, for Smerdyakov too had gone out marketing. Though he had gone up early and was trying to put a bold face on it, he looked tired and weak. His forehead, upon which huge purple bruises had come out during the night, was bandaged with a red handkerchief. His nose, too, was swollen terribly in the night, and some smaller bruises covered it in patches, giving his whole face a peculiarly spiteful and irritable look. The old man was aware of this, and turned a hostile glance on Alyosha as he came in. The coffee is cold, he cried harshly. I won't offer you any. I've ordered nothing but a lentin fish soup today, and I don't invite anyone to share it. Why have you come? To find out how you are, said Alyosha. Yes, besides I told you to come yesterday. It's all of no consequence. You need not have troubled, but I knew you'd come poking in directly. He said this with almost hostile feeling. At the same time he got up and looked anxiously in the looking-glass, perhaps for the fortieth time that morning, at his nose. He began, too, binding his red handkerchief more becomingly on his forehead. Red's better. It's just like the hospital in a white one, he observed sententiously. Well, how are things over there? How is your elder? He is very bad. He may die today, answered Alyosha. But his father had not listened, and had forgotten his own question at once. Ivan's gone out, he said suddenly. He is doing his utmost to carry off Mitya's betrothed. That's what he is staying here for. He added maliciously, and twisting his mouth, looked at Alyosha. Surely he did not tell you so, asked Alyosha. Yes, he did, long ago. Would you believe it? He told me three weeks ago. You don't suppose he, too, came to murder me, do you? He must have had some object incoming. What do you mean? Why do you say such things, said Alyosha, troubled? He doesn't ask for money, it's true. But yet he won't get a farthing from me. I intend living as long as possible. You may as well know, my dear Alexei Fedorovitch. And so I need every farthing, and the longer I live, the more I shall need it," he continued, pacing from one corner of the room to the other, keeping his hands in the pockets of his long greasy overcoat made of yellow cotton material. I can still pass for a man at five and fifty, but I want to pass for one for another twenty years. As I get older, you know, I shan't be a pretty object. The wenches won't come to me of their own accord, so I shall want my money. So I am saving up more and more simply for myself, my dear son Alexei Fedorovitch. You may as well know, for I mean to go on in my sins to the end, let me tell you. For sin is sweet. All abuse it, but all men live in it. Only others do it on the sly, and I openly. And so all the other sinners fall upon me for being so simple. And your paradise, Alexei Fedorovitch, is not to my taste. Let me tell you that. And it's not the proper place for a gentleman, your paradise, even if it exists. I believe that I fall asleep and don't wake up again, and that's all. You can pray for my soul, if you like, and if you don't want to, don't, damn you. That's my philosophy. Ivan talked well here yesterday, though we were all drunk. Ivan is a conceited cox-comb, but he has no particular learning. Nor education either. He sits silent and smiles at one without speaking. That's what pulls him through. Alyosha listened to him in silence. Why won't he talk to me? If he does speak, he gives himself airs. Your Ivan is a scoundrel. And I'll marry Grushenka in a minute, if I want to. For if you have money, Alexei Fedorovitch, you have only to want a thing, and you can have it. That's what Ivan is afraid of. He is on the watch to prevent me getting married, and that's why he is egging on Mitcha to marry Grushenka himself. He hopes to keep me from Grushenka by that, as though I should leave him my money if I don't marry her. Besides, if Mitcha marries Grushenka, Ivan will carry off his rich betrothed. That's what he's reckoning on. He is a scoundrel, your Ivan. How cross you are! It's because of yesterday. You had better lie down, said Alyosha. There you say that, the old man observed suddenly, as though it had struck him for the first time. And I'm not angry with you. But if Ivan said it, I should be angry with him. It is only with you I have good moments. Else you know I am an ill-natured man. You are not ill-natured, but distorted, said Alyosha with a smile. Listen, I meant this morning to get that ruffian Mitcha locked up, and I don't know now what I shall decide about it. Of course, in these fashionable days, fathers and mothers are looked upon as a prejudice. But even now the law does not allow you to drag your old father about by the hair to kick him in the face in his own house and brag of murdering him outright, all in the presence of witnesses. If I liked I could crush him and could have him locked up at once for what he did yesterday. Then you don't mean to take proceedings? Ivan has dissuaded me. I shouldn't care about Ivan, but there's another thing. And bending down to Alyosha he went on in a confidential half-whisper. If I send the ruffian to prison, she'll hear of it, and run to see him at once. But if she hears that he has beaten me, a weak old man within an inch of my life, she may give him up and come to me. For that's her way, everything by contraries. I know her through and through. Won't you have a drop of brandy? Take some cold coffee, and I'll pour a quarter of a glass of brandy into it. It's delicious, my boy. No, thank you. I'll take that roll with me if I may, said Alyosha, and taking a half-penny French roll he put it in the pocket of his cassock. And you'd better not have brandy either, he suggested apprehensively, looking into the old man's face. You are quite right. It irritates my nerves instead of soothing them. Only one little glass. I'll get it out of the cupboard. He unlocked the cupboard, poured out a glass, drank it, then locked the cupboard and put the key back in his pocket. That's enough. One glass won't kill me. You see, you are in a better humor now, said Alyosha, smiling. I love you even without the brandy, but with scoundrels. I am a scoundrel. Ivan is not going to shermashnya. Why is that? He wants to spy how much I give Grushenka if she comes. They are all scoundrels, but I don't recognize Ivan. I don't know him at all. Where does he come from? He is not one of us in soul, as though I'd leave him anything. I shan't leave a will at all. You may as well know. And I'll crush Mitja like a beetle. I squash black beetles at night with my slipper. They squelch when you tread on them, and your Mitja will squelch too. Your Mitja, for you love him. Yes, you love him, and I am not afraid of your loving him. But if Ivan loved him, I should be afraid for myself at his loving him. But Ivan loves nobody. Ivan is not one of us. People like Ivan are not our sort, my boy. They are like a cloud of dust. When the wind blows, the dust will be gone. I had a silly idea in my head when I told you to come today. I wanted to find out from you about Mitja. If I were to hand him over a thousand or maybe two now, would the beggarly wretch agree to take himself off altogether for five years, or better still, thirty-five, and without Krishenka, and give her up once for all? I'll ask him, mother Alyosha. If you would give him three thousand, perhaps he... That's nonsense. You needn't ask him now. No need. I've changed my mind. It was a nonsensical idea of mine. I won't give him anything, not a penny. I want my money myself," cried the old man, waving his hand. I'll crush him like a beetle without it. Don't say anything to him, or else he will begin hoping. There is nothing for you to do here. You needn't stay. Is that the truth of his? Katarina Ivanovna, whom he has kept so carefully hidden for me all this time, going to marry him or not? You went to see her yesterday, I believe. Nothing will induce her to abandon him. There you see how dearly these fine young ladies love a rake and a scoundrel. They are poor creatures, I tell you, those pale young ladies. Very different from, ah, if I had his youth and the looks I had then, for I was a better looking than he at eight and twenty. I'd have been a conquering hero just as he is. He is a low cad. But he shan't have Groschenka anyway. He shan't. I'll crush him. His anger had returned with the last words. You can go. There's nothing for you to do here today. He snapped harshly. Alyosha went up to say goodbye to him and kissed him on the shoulder. What's that for? The old man was a little surprised. We shall see each other again? Or do you think we shan't? Not at all. I didn't mean anything. Nor did I. I did not mean anything, said the old man looking at him. Listen, listen, he shouted after him, make haste and come again. And I'll have a fish soup for you, a fine one, not like today. Be sure to come. Come tomorrow. Do you hear? Tomorrow. And as soon as Alyosha had gone out of the door, he went to the cupboard again and poured out another half glass. I won't have more, he muttered, clearing his throat. And again he locked the cupboard and put the key in his pocket. Then he went into his bedroom, lay down on the bed, exhausted, and in one minute he was asleep. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ted Nugent, the brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, translated by Constance Garnet, Book 4, Chapter 3, A Meeting with the School Boys. Thank goodness, he did not ask me about Kushenka, thought Alyosha as he left his father's house and turned towards Madam Kolokov. Or I might have had to tell him of my meeting with Kushenka yesterday. Alyosha felt painfully that since yesterday both combatants had renewed their energies and that their hearts had grown hard again. Father is spiteful and angry. He's made some plan and will stick to it. And what of the military? He too will be harder than yesterday. He too must be spiteful and angry. And he too, no doubt, has made some plan. Oh, I must succeed in fighting him today, whatever happens. But Alyosha had not long to meditate. An incident occurred on the road, which, though apparently of little consequence, made a great impression on him. Just after he had crossed the square and turned the corner coming out into Mikhailovsky Street, which is divided by a small ditch from the high street, our whole town is intersected by ditches. He saw a group of school boys between the edges of 9 and 12 at the bridge. They were going home from school. Some with their backs on their shoulders. Others with leather satchel slung across them. Some in short jackets. Others in little overcodes. Some even had those high boots with creases round the ankles, such as little boys spoilt by rich fathers' love to wear. The whole group was talking eagerly about something, apparently holding a council. Alyosha had never, from his most cold days, been able to pass children without taking notice of them. And although he was particularly fond of children of three or their adult, he liked school boys of 10 and 11 too. And so, anxious as he was today, he wanted at once to turn a sign to talk to them. He looked into their excited rosy faces and noticed at once that all the boys had stones in their hands. Behind the ditch, some 30 pieces away, there was another school boy standing by a fence. He too had the satchel at his side. He was about 10 years old, pale, delicate looking and with sparkling black eyes. After an attentive and anxious watch on the other six, obviously his school fellows, with whom he had just come out of school, but with whom he had evidently had the feud. Alyosha went up and, addressing a fair, curly-headed, rosy boy in a black jacket, observed, When I used to wear a satchel like yours, I always used to carry it on my left side so as to have my right hand free. But you've got yours on your right side so it won't be awkward for you to get at it. Alyosha had no art or premeditation in beginning with this practical remark. But it is the only way for a grown-up person to get at once into confidential relations with the child or still more with the group of children. One must begin in a serious business-like way so as to be on a perfectly equal footing. Alyosha understood it by instinct. But he is left-handed. Another, a fine, healthy-looking boy of 11, answered promptly. All the others stared at Alyosha. He even threw stones with his left hand, observed a third. At that instant, a stone flew into the group but only just graced the left-handed boy, though it was well and vigorously thrown by the boy standing on the other side of the ditch. Give it to him! Hit him back! Smurroff! They all shouted, but Smurroff, the left-handed boy, needed no telling and at once revanged himself. He threw a stone, but it missed the boy and hit the ground. The boy on the other side of the ditch, the pocket of whose coat was visibly bunching with stones, flung another stone at the group. This time, it flew straight at Alyosha and hit him painfully on the shoulder. He aimed it at you. He meant it for you. You are Kramazov! Kramazov! The boy shouted, laughing, Come! All throw at him at once and six stones flew at the boy. One struck the boy on the head and he fell down, but at once lapped up and began furiously returning the fire. Both signs threw stones incessantly. Many of the group had their pockets full too. What are you about? Aren't you ashamed? Six against one. Why? You will kill him! cried Alyosha. He ran forward and met the flying stones to screen the solitary boy. Three or four ceased throwing for a minute. He began first, cried the boy in a red shirt in an angry childish voice. He is the beast. He stabbed Krasotkin in class the other day with a pen knife. It bled. Krasotkin wouldn't tell tales, but he must be trashed. But what for? I suppose he teased him. There! He sent the stone in your back again. He knows you. cried the children. It's you he is throwing at now. Notice! Come! All of you, came again. Don't miss more of. And again, a fire of stones and a very vicious one began. The boy on the other side of the ditch was hit in the chest. He screamed, began to cry, and ran away uphill to watch Mikhailovsky straight. They all shouted, Aha! His funkin! His running away! You don't know what the best he is. Karamazov. Killing is too good for him. Said the boy in the jacket with flashing eyes. He seemed to be the eldest. What's wrong with him? Asked the Lyosha. Is he a telltale or what? The boys looked at one another as though derisively. Are you going that way to Mikhailovsky? The same boy went on. Catch him up. You see, he stopped again. He is waiting and looking at you. He is looking at you. The other boys chimed in. You ask him. Does he like a disheveled whisper talk? Do you hear? Ask him that. There was the general bust of laughter. Lyosha looked at them and they at him. Don't go near him. He will hurt you. cried Smurov in a warning voice. I shan't ask him about the whisper talk. For I expect you to diss him with that question somehow. But I will find out from him why you hate him so. Find out then. Find out! cried the boys laughing. Lyosha crossed the bridge and walked uphill by the fence straight towards the boy. You'd better look out. The boys called up to him. He wanted to be afraid of you. He will stab you in a minute on the sly as he did cross Sotkin. The boy waited for him without bunching. Coming up to him, Lyosha saw facing him a child of about nine years old. He was an undersized weekly boy with a thin pale face with large dark eyes that grazed at him vindictively. He was grasped in a rather shabby old overcoat which he has monstrously outgrown. His bare arms stuck out beyond his sleeves. There was a large patch on the right knee of his trousers and in his right boot, just at the toe, there was a big hole in the ladder carefully blackened with ink. Both the pocket of his great coat were weighed down with stones. Lyosha stopped two steps in front of him looking inquiringly at him. The boy, seeing at once from Lyosha's eyes that he wouldn't bit him became less defiant and addressed him first. I'm alone and there are six of them. I'll beat them all alone. He said suddenly with flashing eyes. I think one of the stones must have hurt you badly, observed Lyosha. But I hit Smurov on the head, cried the boy. They told me that you know me and that you threw a stone at me on purpose, said Lyosha. The boy looked darkly at him. I don't know you. Do you know me? Lyosha continued. Let me alone! The boy cried irritably but he did not move as though he were expecting something. And again there was a vindictive light in his eyes. Very well! I'm going! said Lyosha. Only I don't know you and I don't tease you. They told me how they tease you but I don't want to tease you. Goodbye! Mung and silk trousers! cried the boy following Lyosha with the same vindictive and defiant expression. And he threw himself into an attitude of defense feeling sure that now Lyosha would fall upon him. But the Lyosha turned, looked at him and walked away. He had not gone three steps. Before the biggest storm the boy had in his pocket hit him a painful blow in the back. So he hit the man from behind. They tell the truth then when they say that you attack on the sly. said the Lyosha turning round again. This time the boy threw a stone savagely right into Lyosha's face. But the Lyosha just had time to guard himself and the stones struck him on the elbow. Aren't you ashamed? What have I done to you? he cried. The boy waited in silent defiance certain that now Lyosha would attack him. Seeing that even now he would not his rage was like a little white beast. He flew at the Lyosha himself and before Lyosha had time to move the spiteful giant has seized his left hand with both of his and bit his middle finger. He fixed his teeth in it and it was ten seconds before he let go. Lyosha cried out with pain and pulled his finger away with all his might. The child let go at last and retreated to his former distance. Lyosha's finger had been badly beaten to the bone close to the nail. It began to bleed. Lyosha took out his handkerchief and bowed it tightly round his injured hand. He was a full minute bandaging it. The boy stood waiting all the time. At last Lyosha raised his gentle eyes and looked at him. Very well he said. You see how badly you've beaten me? That's enough isn't it? Now tell me what have I done to you? The boy stared in amazement. Though I don't know you and it's the first time I've seen you. Lyosha went on with the same serenity yet I must have done something to you. It wouldn't have hurt me like this for nothing. So what have I done? How have I wronged you? Tell me. Instead of answering the boy broke into a loud tearful well and ran away. Lyosha walked slowly after him towards Mikhailovsky Street and for a long time he saw the chai running in the distance as fast as ever not turning his head and no doubt still keeping up his tearful well. He made up his mind to find him out as soon as he had time and to solve this mystery. Just now he had not the time. And Chapter 3 of Book 4 Section 28 Book 4, Chapter 4 of the Brothers Karamazov This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Father Zayli of Detroit. The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky translated by Constance Garnet Book 4, Chapter 4 at the Holocaust Lyosha soon reached Madame Holocaust's house a handsome stone house of two stories one of the finest in our town. Though Madame Holocaust spent most of her time in another province where she had an estate or in Moscow where she had a house of her own yet she had a house in our town too from her forefathers. The estate in our district was the largest of her three estates yet she had been very little in our province before this time. She ran out to Lyosha in the hall. Did you get my letter about the new miracle? She spoke rapidly and nervously. Yes. Did you show it to everyone? He restored the son to his mother. He is dying today, said Lyosha. I heard. I know. Oh, how I long to talk to you. To you or someone about all this. No, to you. To you. And how sorry I am. I can't see him. The whole town is in excitement. They are all suspense. But now, do you know Katerina Ivanovna is here now? Ah, that's lucky, cried Lyosha. Then I shall see her here. She told me yesterday to be sure to come and see her today. I know. I know all. I know exactly what happened yesterday and the atrocious behavior of that creature. C'est tragique. And if I'd been in her place, I don't know what I should have done. And your brother, Dmitry Fyodorovich. What do you think of him? My goodness. Alexei Fyodorovich. I'm forgetting. Only fancy. Your brother is in there with her. Not that dreadful brother who was so shocking yesterday. But the other, Ivan Fyodorovich. He is sitting with her talking. They are having a serious conversation. If you could only imagine what's passing between them now. It's awful, I tell you. It's lacerating. It's like some incredible tale of horror. They are ruining their lives for no reason anyone can see. They both recognize it and revel in it. I've been watching for you. I've been thirsting for you. It's too much for me. That's the worst of it. I'll tell you all about it presently. But now, I must speak of something else. The most important thing. I had quite forgotten what's most important. Tell me. Why has Liza been in hysterics? As soon as she heard you were here, she began to be hysterical. Ma'am, it's you who are hysterical now, not I. Liza's voice curled through a tiny crack of the door at the side. Her voice sounded as though she wanted to laugh but was doing her utmost to control it. While Yosha at once noticed the crack and no doubt Liza was peeping through it. But that he could not see. And no wonder, Liza, no wonder your caprices will make me hysterical, too. But she is so ill, Alexei Fedorovich. She has been so ill at night, feverish and moaning. I could hardly wait for the morning and for the Herzenstuber to come. He says that he can make nothing of it. That we must wait. Herzenstuber always comes and says that he can make nothing of it. As soon as you approached the house she screamed, fell into hysterics and insisted on being wheeled back into this room here. Mama, I didn't know he had come. It wasn't on his account I wanted to be wheeled into this room. That's not true, Liza. Yulia ran to tell you that Alexei Fedorovich was coming. She was on the lookout for you. My darling mama, it's not at all clever of you. But if you want to make up for it and say something very clever, dear mama, you'd better tell our honoured visitor, Alexei Fedorovich, that he has shown his want of wit by venturing to us after what happened yesterday and although everyone is laughing at him. Liza, you go too far. I declare I shall have to be severe. Who laughs at him? I'm so glad he has come. I need him. I can't do without him. Oh, Alexei Fedorovich, I'm exceedingly unhappy. But what's the matter with you, mama, darling? Ah, your caprice is, Liza. Your fidgetiness, your illness, that awful night of fever, that awful everlasting Hebsenstube, everlasting, everlasting. That's the worst of it. Everything, in fact, everything, even that miracle, too, oh, how it has upset me, how it has shattered me, that miracle, dear Alexei Fedorovich, and that tragedy in the drawing room. It's more than I can bear. I warn you. I can't bear it. A comedy, perhaps, not a tragedy. Tell me, will Father Zosima live tomorrow? Will he? Oh, my God, what is happening to me? Every minute I close my eyes and see that it's all nonsense, all nonsense. I should be very grateful, Alyosha interrupted suddenly, if you could give me a clean rag to bind up my finger with. I've heard it, and it's very painful. Alyosha unbound his bitten finger. The handkerchief was soaked with blood. Madam Holokov screamed and shut her eyes. Good heavens! What a wound! How awful! But as soon as Lisa saw Alyosha's finger through the crack, she flung the door wide open. Come, come here, she cried, imperiously. No nonsense now. Good heavens! Why did you stand there saying nothing about it all this time? He might have bled to death, Mama. How did you do it? Water, water, you must wash it first of all. Simply hold it in cold water to stop the pain. And keep it there, keep it there. Make haste, Mama, some water in a slop basin. But do make haste. She finished nervously. She was quite frightened at the sight of Alyosha's wound. Shouldn't we send for Herzenstube? cried Madam Holokov. Mama, you'll be the death of me. Your Herzenstube will come and say that he can make nothing of it. Water, water, Mama. For goodness sake, go yourself and hurry, Yulia. She is such a slow coach and never can come quickly. Make haste, Mama, or I shall die. Why, it's nothing much, cried Alyosha, frightened at this alarm. Yulia ran in with water and Alyosha put his finger in it. Some lint, Mama. For mercy's sake, bring some lint. And that muddy caustic lotion for wounds. What's it called? We got some. You know where the bottle is, Mama. It's in your bedroom, in the right hand cupboard. There's a big bottle of it there with the lint. I'll bring everything in a minute, Lisa. Only don't scream and don't fuss. You see how bravely Alexei Fyodorovich bears it. Where did you get such a dreadful wound, Alexei Fyodorovich? Madam Holokov hastened away. This was all Lisa was waiting for. First of all, answer the question. Where did you get hurt like this? She asked Alyosha quickly. And then I'll talk to you about something quite different. Well? Instinctively feeling that the time of her mother's absence was precious for her, Alyosha hastened to tell her of his enigmatic meeting with the school boys in the fewest words possible. Lisa clasped her hands at his story. How can you? And in that dress, too, she said, she cried angrily as though she had a right to control him. You are nothing but a boy yourself if you can do that. A perfect boy. But you must find out for me about that horrid boy and tell me all about it, for there's some mystery in it. Now, for the second thing, but first a question, does the pain prevent you talking about utterly unimportant things but talking sensibly? Of course not. And I don't feel much pain now. That's because your finger is in the water. It must be changed directly for it will get warm in a minute. Julia, bring some ice from the cellar and another basin of water. Now she is gone. I can speak. Will you give me the letter I sent you yesterday, dear Alexei Fedorovitch? Be quick, for mama will be back in a minute, and I don't want I haven't got the letter. That's not true. You have. I knew you would say that. You've got it in that pocket. I've been regretting that joke all night. Give me back the letter at once. Give it me. I've left it at home. But you can't consider me as a child a little girl after that silly joke. I beg your pardon for that silliness. But you must bring me the letter if you really haven't got it. Bring it today. You must. You must. I'm going to leave the monastery and I shan't come and see you for the next two days, three or four perhaps, for Father Zasima. Four days? What nonsense! Listen, did you laugh at me very much? I didn't laugh at all. Why not? Because I believed all you said. You are insulting me. Not at all. As soon as I read it, I thought that all that would come to pass. For as soon as Father Zasima dies in the monastery, then I shall go back and finish my studies and when you reach the legal age we will be married. I shall love you. Though I haven't had time to think about it, I believe I couldn't find a better wife than you. And Father Zasima tells me I must marry. But I am a cripple wheeled about in a chair, laughed Lisa, flushing crimson. I'll wheel you about myself, but I'm sure you'll get well by then. I'll make all this nonsense out of a joke. Here's Mama, very apropos perhaps. Mama, how slow you always are. How can you be so long? And here's Julia with the ice. Oh, Lisa, don't scream. Above all things, don't scream. That scream drives me. How can I help it when you put the lint in another place? I've been hunting and hunting. I do believe you did it on purpose. But I couldn't tell that he would come with a bad finger or else perhaps I might have done it on purpose. My darling Mama, you begin to say really witty things. Never mind my being witty, but I must say you show nice feeling for Alexei Fyodorovich's sufferings. Oh, my dear Alexei Fyodorovich, what's killing me is no one thing in particular, not Herz and Stuber, but everything together. That's what is too much for me. That's enough, Mama, enough about Herz and Stuber. Lisa laughed gaily. Make haste with the lint and the lotion, Mama. That's simply Gullard's water, Alexei Fyodorovich. I remember the name now, but it's a splendid lotion. Would you believe it, Mama, on the way here? He had a fight with the boys in the street and it was a boy bit his finger. Isn't he a child, a child himself? Is he fit to be married after that? For only fancy, he wants to be married, Mama. Just think of him married. Wouldn't it be funny? What did be awful? And Lisa kept laughing, her thin hysterical giggle, looking slyly at Alyosha. But why married, Lisa? What makes you talk of such a thing? It's quite out of place, and perhaps the boy was rabid. Why, Mama, as though there were rabid boys. Why not, Lisa? As though I had said something stupid. Your boy might have been bitten by a mad dog, and he would become mad and bite anyone near him. Well, she has bandaged it, Alexei Fedorovich. I couldn't have done it. Do you still feel the pain? It's nothing much now. You don't feel afraid of water? Asked Lisa. Come, that's enough, Lisa. Perhaps I really was rather too quick talking of the boy being rabid, and you pounced upon it at once. Katharina Ivanovna has only just heard that you are here, Alexei Fedorovich. She simply rushed at me, saying, Mama, go to them yourself. He can't go just now. He is in too much pain. Not at all. I can go quite well, said Alyosha. What, you are going away? Is that what you say? Well, when I've seen them, I'll come back here, and we can talk as much as you like. But I should like to see Katharina Ivanovna at once, for I am very anxious to be back at the monastery Mama, take him away quickly. Alexei Fedorovich, don't trouble to come and see me afterwards. But go straight back to your monastery and the good riddance. I want to sleep. I didn't sleep all night. Oh, Lisa, you are only making fun. But how I wish you would sleep, cried Madame Holokov. I don't know what I've done. I'll stay another three minutes, five if you like, muttered Alyosha. And five. Do take him away quickly, Mama. He is a monster. Lisa, you are crazy. Let us go, Alexei Fedorovich. She is too capricious today. I'm afraid to cross her. Oh, the trouble one has with nervous girls. Perhaps she really will be able to sleep after seeing you. How quickly you have made her sleepy and how fortunate it is. Mama, how sweetly you talk. I must kiss you for it, Mama. And I kiss you too, Lisa. Listen, Alexei Fedorovich. Madame Holokov began mysteriously and importantly speaking in a rapid whisper. I don't want to suggest anything. I don't want to lift the veil. You will see for yourself what's going on. It's appalling. It's the most fantastic farce. She loves your brother Ivan. And she is doing her utmost to persuade herself she loves your brother Dimitri. It's appalling. I'll go in and if they don't turn me out I'll stay to the end. End of Chapter 4 of Book 4 Recording by Father Zaili of Detroit. Book 4, Chapter 5 of the Brothers Karamazov This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Rachel Steeley the Brothers Karamazov by Fedor Dostoevsky translated by Constance Garnet. Book 4, Chapter 5 a laceration in the drawing room But in the drawing room the conversation was already over. Katerina Ivanovna was greatly excited though she looked resolute. At the moment Alyosha and Madame Holikov entered Ivan Fyodorovich stood up to take leave. His face was rather pale and Alyosha looked at him anxiously. For this moment was to solve a doubt a harassing enigma which had for some time haunted Alyosha. Preceding month it had been several times suggested to him that his brother Ivan was in love with Katerina Ivanovna and what was more that he meant to carry her off from Dimitri until quite lately the ideas seemed to Alyosha monstrous though it worried him extremely he loved both his brothers and dreaded such rivalry between them. At the time Dimitri had said outright on the previous day that he was glad that Ivan was his rival and that it was a great assistance to him Dimitri. In what way did it assist him to Mary Grushenko but that Alyosha considered the worst thing possible. Besides all this Alyosha had till the evening before that Katerina Ivanovna had a steadfast and passionate love for Dimitri but he had only believed it till the evening before he had fancied too that she was incapable of loving a man like Ivan and that she did love Dimitri and loved him just as he was in spite of all the strangeness of such a passion In yesterday's scene with Grushenko another idea had struck him the word lacerating which Madame Holikov had just uttered almost made him start because half waking up towards daybreak that night he had cried out laceration, laceration probably applying it to his dream he had been dreaming all night of the previous day's scene at Katerina Ivanovna's now Alyosha was impressed by Madame Holikov's blunt and persistent insertion that Katerina Ivanovna was in love with Ivan and only deceived herself through some sort of pose from self-laceration and tortured herself by her pretended love for Dimitri from some fancy duty of gratitude yes he thought perhaps the whole truth lies in those words but in that case what was Ivan's position Alyosha felt instinctively that a character like Katerina Ivanovna's must dominate and she could only dominate someone like Dimitri and never a man like Ivan for Dimitri might at last submit to her domination to his own happiness which was what Alyosha would have desired but Ivan Ivan could not submit to her and such submission would not give him happiness Alyosha could not help believing that of Ivan and now all these doubts and reflections flitted through his mind as he entered the drawing room another idea too forced itself upon him what if she loved neither of them neither Ivan nor Dimitri it must be noted that Alyosha felt as it were ashamed of his own thoughts and blamed himself when they kept reoccurring to him during the last month what do I know about love and woman and how can I decide such questions he thought reproachfully after such doubts and surmises and yet it was impossible not to think about it he felt instinctively immense importance in his brother's lives and that a great deal depended upon it one reptile will devour the other Ivan had pronounced the day before speaking in anger of his father and Dimitri so Ivan looked upon Dimitri as a reptile and perhaps long done so was it perhaps since he had known Katarina Ivanovna that phrase had of course escaped Ivan unawares yesterday but that only made it more important if he felt like that what chance was there of peace were there not on the contrary new grounds for hatred and hostility in their family and with which of them was Alyosha to sympathize and what was he to wish for each of them he loved them both but what could he desire for each in the midst of these conflicting interests he might go quite astray in this maze and Alyosha's heart could not endure uncertainty because his love was always of an active character he was incapable of passive love if he loved anyone he set to work at once to help him and to do so he must know what he was aiming at he must know for certain what was best for each and having ascertained this it was natural for him to help them both but instead of a definite aim he found nothing but uncertainty and perplexity on all sides it was lacerating as was said just now but what could he understand even in this laceration he did not understand the first word in this perplexing maze seeing Alyosha said quickly and joyfully to Ivan who had already got up to go a minute stay another minute I want to hear the opinion of this person here who might trust absolutely don't go away she added addressing Madame Holokov she made Alyosha sit down beside her and Madame Holokov set Apocit by Ivan you are all my friends here all I have in the world dear friends she warmly in a voice which quivered with genuine tears of suffering and Alyosha's heart warmed to her at once you Alexei Fyodorovich were witness yesterday of that a pominable scene and saw what I did you did not see it Ivan Fyodorovich he did what he thought of me yesterday I don't know I only know one thing I am treated today this minute I should express the same feelings again as yesterday the same feelings the same words the same actions you remember my actions Alexei Fyodorovich you checked me in one of them as she said that she flushed and her eyes shone I must tell you that I can't get over it I still love him I feel pity for him and that is a poor sign of love if I loved him if I still loved him perhaps I wouldn't be sorry for him now but should hate him her voice quivered and tears glittered in her eye lashes Alyosha shuddered inwardly that girl is truthful and sincere he thought and she does not love Dimitri anymore that's true that's true cried Madame Holokov wait dear, I haven't told you the chief the final decision I came to during the night I feel that perhaps my decision is a terrible one for me but I foresee that nothing will induce me to change it nothing it will be so all my life my dear kind ever faithful and generous advisor the one friend I have in the world Ivan Fyodorovich with his deep insight into the heart approves and commends my decision he knows it yes, I approve of it Ivan is sent in in a subdued but firm voice but I should like Alyosha too ah, Alexey Fyodorovich forgive my calling you simply Alyosha I should like Alexey Fyodorovich too to tell me before my two friends whether I am right I feel instinctively that you Alyosha, my dear brother for you are a dear brother to me she said again ecstatically taking his cold hand in her hot one I foresee that your decision your approval will bring me peace in spite of all my sufferings for after your words I shall be calm and submit I feel that I don't know what you are asking me said Alyosha flushing I only know that I love you and at this moment wish for your happiness more than my own but I know nothing about such affairs something impelled him to add hurriedly in such affairs Alexey Fyodorovich in such affairs the chief thing and duty and something higher I don't know what but higher perhaps even than duty I am conscious of this irresistible feeling in my heart and it compels me irresistibly but it may all be put in two words I've already decided even if he marries that creature she began solemnly whom I never never can forgive even then I will not abandon him henceforth I will never, never abandon him she cried breaking into a sort of pale hysterical ecstasy not that I would run after him continually get in his way and worry him oh no I will go away to another town where you like but I will watch over him all my life I will watch over him all my life unceasingly when he becomes unhappy with that woman and that is bound to happen quite soon let him come to me and he will find a friend a sister only a sister of course and so forever but he will learn at least that that sister is really his sister who loves him and has sacrificed all her life to him I will gain my point I will insist on his knowing me confiding entirely in me without reserve she cried in a sort of frenzy I will be a god to whom he can pray and that at least he owes me for his treachery and for what I suffered yesterday through him and let him see that all my life I will be true to him in spite of his being untrue and betraying me I will I will become nothing but a means for his happiness or how shall I say an instrument a machine for his happiness and that for my whole life my whole life and that he may see that all his life that's my decision Ivan Fyodorovich fully approves me she was breathless and perhaps intended to express her idea with more dignity art and naturalness but her speech was too hurried and crude it was full of youthful impulsiveness it betrayed that she was still smarting from yesterday's insult and that her pride craved satisfaction she felt this herself her face suddenly darkened an unpleasant look came into her eyes Alyosha at once saw it I've only expressed my own view he said from anyone else this would have been affected and overstrained but from you no any other woman would have been wrong but you are right I don't know how to explain it but I see that you are absolutely genuine and therefore you are right but that's only for a moment and what does this moment stand for? nothing but yesterday's insult Madame Holikov obviously had not intended to interfere but she could not refrain from this very just comment quite so quite so cried Ivan with particular eagerness obviously annoyed at being interrupted and anyone else this moment would be only due to yesterday's impression and would be only a moment but with Katarina Ivanovna's character that moment will last all her life what for anyone else would be only a promise is for her an everlasting burdensome grim perhaps but unflagging duty and she will be sustained by the feeling of this duty being fulfilled your life Katarina Ivanovna will therefore be spent in painful brooding over your own feelings your own heroism and your own suffering but in the end that suffering will be softened and will pass into sweet contemplation of the fulfillment of a bold and proud design yes proud it certainly is and desperate in any case but a triumph for you and the consciousness of it will at last be a source of complete satisfaction and will make you resigned to everything else this was unmistakably said with some malice and obviously with intention even perhaps with no desire to conceal that he spoke ironically and with intention oh dear how mistaken it all is madam holikov cried again Alexei Feodorovich you speak I want dreadfully to know what you will say cried Katarina Ivanovna and burst into tears Alyosha got up from the sofa it's nothing nothing she went on through her tears I'm upset I didn't sleep last night but by the side of two such friends as you and your brother I still feel strong for I know you two will never desert me unluckily I'm obliged to return to Moscow perhaps tomorrow and leave you for a long time and unluckily it's unavoidable Ivan said suddenly tomorrow to Moscow her face was suddenly contorted but but dear me how fortunate she cried in a voice changed in one instant there was no trace left of her tears she underwent an instantaneous transformation which amazed Alyosha instead of a poor insulted girl weeping in a sort of laceration he saw a woman completely self possessed and even exceedingly pleased as though something agreeable had just happened I am fortunate that I am losing you of course not she collected herself suddenly with a charming society smile such a friend as you are could not suppose that I am only too unhappy at losing you she rushed impossibly at Ivan and seizing both his hands pressed them warmly but what is fortunate is that you will be able to speak with Auntie and Agafya and to tell them all the horror of my present position you can speak with complete openness to Agafya but spare dear Auntie you will know how to do that you can't think how wretched I was yesterday and this morning wondering how I could write them that dreadful letter for one can never tell such things for you will see them and explain everything oh how glad I am but I am only glad of that believe me of course no one can take your place I will run at once to write the letter she finished suddenly and took a step as though to go out of the room and what about Alyosha and his opinion which you are so desperately anxious to hear there was a sarcastic angry note in her voice I had not forgotten that cried Katarina even Nobna coming to a sudden standstill and why are you so antagonistic at such a moment she added with warm and bitter reproachfulness what I said I repeat I must have his opinion more than that I must have his decision as he says so it shall be you see how anxious I am for your words Alexey Fyodorovich but what's the matter I couldn't have believed it I can't understand it Alyosha cried suddenly in distress he is going to Moscow and you cry out that you are glad you said that on purpose and you begin explaining that you are not glad of that but sorry to be losing a friend but that was acting too you were playing a part as in a theater in a theater what? what do you mean exclaimed Katarina even Nobna profoundly astonished flushing crimson and frowning though you assure him you are sorry to lose a friend in him you persist in telling him to his face you are watching it he is going said Alyosha breathlessly he was standing at the table and did not sit down what are you talking about I don't understand I don't understand myself I seem to see in a flash I know I am not saying it properly but I'll say it all the same Alyosha went on in the same shaking and broken voice what I see is that perhaps you didn't love Dimitri at all and never have from the beginning and Dimitri too has never loved you and only esteems you I really don't know how I dare to say all this but somebody must tell the truth for nobody here will tell the truth what truth? cried Katarina even Nobna and there was an hysterical ring in her voice I'll tell you Alyosha went on with desperate haste as though he were jumping from the top of a house called Dimitri I will fetch him and let him come here and take your hand and take Ivan's and join your hands for you're torturing Ivan simply because you love him and torturing him because you love Dimitri because you love him because you've persuaded yourself Alyosha broke off and was silent you, you you are a little religious idiot that's what you are Katarina even Nobna snapped her face was white and her lips were moving with anger Ivan suddenly laughed and got up his hat was in his hands you are mistaken my good Alyosha he said with an expression Alyosha had never seen in his face before an expression of youthful sincerity and strong irresistible frank feeling Katarina even Nobna has never cared for me she has known all the time that I cared for her though I never said a word of my love to her she knew but she didn't care for me I have never been her friend either she is too proud to need my friendship she kept me at her side as a means of revenge she revenged with me and on me all the insults which she had been continually receiving from Dimitri ever since their first meeting for even that first meeting has rankled in her heart an insult that's what her heart is like she has talked to me of nothing I am going now but believe me Katarina even Nobna you really love him and the more he insults you the more you love him that's your laceration you love him just as he is you love him for insulting you if he reformed you'd give him up at once and cease to love him but you need him so as to contemplate continually your heroic fidelity and to reproach him for infidelity and it all comes from your pride oh there's a great deal of humiliation and self abasement about it but it all comes from pride I am too young and I loved you too much I know that I ought not to say this that it would be more dignified on my part simply to leave you and it would be less offensive for you but I am going far away and shall never come back it is forever I don't want to sit beside a laceration but I don't know how to speak now I've said everything goodbye Katarina even Nobna you can't be angry with me for I'm a hundred times more severely punished than you if only by the fact that I shall never see you again goodbye I don't want your hand you have tortured me too deliberately for me to be able to forgive you at this moment I shall forgive you later but now I don't want your hand den denktame beggar iknektame translator's note thank you madame I want nothing he added with a forced smile showing however that he could read Schiller and read him till he knew him by heart which Alyosha would never have believed he went out of the room without saying goodbye even to his hostess madame holikov Alyosha clasped his hands Ivan he cried desperately after him come back Ivan no nothing will induce him to come back now he cried again regretfully realizing it but it's my fault my fault I began it Ivan spoke angrily wrongly unjustly and angrily he must come back here come back Alyosha kept exclaiming frantically Katerina Ivanovna went suddenly into the next room you have done no harm you behaved beautifully like an angel madame holikov whispered rapidly and ecstatically to Alyosha I will do my utmost to prevent Ivan Feodorovich from going her face beamed with delight to the great distress of Alyosha but Katerina Ivanovna suddenly returned she had two hundred ruble notes in her hand I have a great favor to ask of you Alexey Feodorovich she began addressing Alyosha with an apparently calm voice as though nothing had happened a week yes I think it was a week ago Dmitri Feodorovich was guilty of a hasty and unjust action a very ugly action there was a low tavern here and in it he met that discharged officer that captain whom your father used to employ in some business Dmitri Feodorovich somehow lost his temper with this captain seized him by the beard and dragged him out into the street and for some distance along it in that insulting fashion and I am told that his son a boy quite a child who is at the school here saw it and ran beside them crying and begging for his father appealing to everyone to defend him while everyone laughed you must forgive me Alexey Feodorovich I cannot think without indignation of that disgraceful action of his one of those actions of which only Dmitri Feodorovich would be capable in his anger and in his passions I can't describe it even I can't find my words I've made inquiries about his victim and find he is quite a poor man his name is Snigarov he did something wrong in the army and was discharged I can't tell you what and now he is sunk into terrible destitution with his family an unhappy family of sick children and I believe an insane wife he has been living here a long time he used to work as a copy and clerk but now he is getting nothing I thought if you... I thought I don't know I am so confused you see I am asking my dear Alexey Feodorovich to go to him to find some excuse to go to them I mean to that captain oh goodness how badly I explain it and delicately carefully as only you know how to Alyosha blushed managed to give him this assistance these two hundred rubles he will be sure to take it I mean I need him to take it or rather what do I mean you see it's not by way of compensation to prevent him from taking proceedings for I believe he meant you but simply a token of sympathy of a desire to assist him from me Dimitri Feodorovich is betrothed not from himself but you know I would go myself but you'll know how to do it ever so much better he lives in Lake Street in the house of a woman called Kalimokov for God's sake Alexey Feodorovich do it for me and now now I am rather tired goodbye she turned and disappeared behind the portier so quickly that Alyosha had not time to utter a word though he wanted to speak he longed to beg her pardon herself to say something for his heart was full and he could not bear to go out of the room without it but Madame Holokov took him by the hand and drew him along with her in the hall she stopped him again as before she is proud she is struggling with herself but kind, charming, generous she explained in a half whisper oh how I love her especially sometimes and how glad I am again of everything dear Alexey Feodorovich you don't know but I must tell you that we all all, both her aunts I and all of us lies even have been hoping and praying for nothing for the last month but that she may give up your favorite Dimitri who takes no notice of her and does not care for her may marry Ivan Feodorovich such an excellent and cultivated young man who loves her more than anything in the world we are in a regular plot to bring it about and I am even staying on here perhaps on that account but she has been crying she has been wounded again Cardaleosha never trust a woman's tears Alexey Feodorovich I am never for a woman in such cases I am always on the side of the men Mama you are spoiling him Liza's little voice cried from behind the door no it was all my fault I am horribly to blame Alexey repeated, unconsold hiding his face in his hands in an agony of remorse for his indiscretion quite the contrary you behaved like an angel I am ready to say so a thousand times over Mama how has he behaved like an angel Liza's voice was heard again I somehow fancied all at once Alexey went on as though he had not heard Liza that she loved Ivan and so I said that stupid thing what will happen now to whom to whom cried Liza Mama you really want to be the death of me I ask you and you don't answer at that moment the maid ran in Katerina, even Novna is ill she is crying struggling hysterics what is the matter cried Liza in a tone of real anxiety Mama I shall be having hysterics and not she Liza for mercy's sake don't scream don't persecute me at your age one can't know everything that grown up people know I'll come and tell you everything you ought to know oh mercy on us I'm coming I am coming hysterics is a good sign Alexey Fyodorovich it's an excellent thing that she is hysterical that's just as it ought to be in such cases I am always against the woman against all these feminine tears and hysterics run and say Yulia that I'll fly to her as for Ivan Fyodorovich is going away like that it's her own fault but he won't go away Liza for mercy's sake don't scream oh yes you are not screaming it's I am screaming forgive your Mama but I am delighted delighted did you notice Alexey Fyodorovich how young Ivan Fyodorovich was just now when he went out when he said all that and went out I thought he was so learned such a savant and all of a sudden he behaved so warmly openly and youthfully with such youthful inexperience and it was all so fine like you and the way he repeated that German verse it was just like you but I must fly I must fly Alexey Fyodorovich make haste to carry out her commission and then make haste back Liza do you want anything now for mercy's sake don't keep Alexey Fyodorovich a minute he will come back to you at once Madame Holikov at last ran off before leaving Alyosha would have opened the door to see Liza on no account on no account now speak through the door how have you come to be an angel that's the only thing I want to know for an awful piece of stupidity Liza goodbye don't dare go away like that Liza was beginning Liza I have a real sorrow I'll be back directly but I have a great great sorrow and he ran out of the room end of chapter 5 of book 4 recording by Rachel Steely www.rachelsteely.com