The Brothers Karamazov
that one can love humanity without God. Well, only a sniveling idiot
can maintain that. I can’t understand it. Life’s easy for Rakitin.
‘You’d better think about the extension of civic rights, or even of
keeping down the price of meat. You will show your love for humanity
more simply and directly by that, than by philosophy.’ I answered him,
‘Well, but you, without a God, are more likely to raise the price of
meat, if it suits you, and make a rouble on every copeck.’ He lost his
temper. But after all, what is goodness? Answer me that, Alexey.
Goodness is one thing with me and another with a Chinaman, so it’s a
relative thing. Or isn’t it? Is it not relative? A treacherous
question! You won’t laugh if I tell you it’s kept me awake two nights.
I only wonder now how people can live and think nothing about it.
Vanity! Ivan has no God. He has an idea. It’s beyond me. But he is
silent. I believe he is a free-mason. I asked him, but he is silent. I
wanted to drink from the springs of his soul—he was silent. But once he
did drop a word.”
“What did he say?” Alyosha took it up quickly.
“I said to him, ‘Then everything is lawful, if it is so?’ He frowned.
‘Fyodor Pavlovitch, our papa,’ he said, ‘was a pig, but his ideas were
right enough.’ That was what he dropped. That was all he said. That was
going one better than Rakitin.”
“Yes,” Alyosha assented bitterly. “When was he with you?”
“Of that later; now I must speak of something else. I have said nothing
about Ivan to you before. I put it off to the last. When my business
here is over and the verdict has been given, then I’ll tell you
something. I’ll tell you everything. We’ve something tremendous on
hand.... And you shall be my judge in it. But don’t begin about that
now; be silent. You talk of to-morrow, of the trial; but, would you
believe it, I know nothing about it.”
“Have you talked to the counsel?”
“What’s the use of the counsel? I told him all about it. He’s a soft,
city-bred rogue—a Bernard! But he doesn’t believe me—not a bit of it.
Only imagine, he believes I did it. I see it. ‘In that case,’ I asked
him, ‘why have you come to defend me?’ Hang them all! They’ve got a
doctor down, too, want to prove I’m mad. I won’t have that! Katerina
Ivanovna wants to do her ‘duty’ to the end, whatever the strain!” Mitya
smiled bitterly. “The cat! Hard-hearted creature! She knows that I said
of her at Mokroe that she was a woman of ‘great wrath.’ They repeated
it. Yes, the facts against me have grown numerous as the sands of the
sea. Grigory sticks to his point. Grigory’s honest, but a fool. Many
people are honest because they are fools: that’s Rakitin’s idea.
Grigory’s my enemy. And there are some people who are better as foes
than friends. I mean Katerina Ivanovna. I am afraid, oh, I am afraid
she will tell how she bowed to the ground after that four thousand.
She’ll pay it back to the last farthing. I don’t want her sacrifice;
they’ll put me to shame at the trial. I wonder how I can stand it. Go
to her, Alyosha, ask her not to speak of that in the court, can’t you?
But damn it all, it doesn’t matter! I shall get through somehow. I
don’t pity her. It’s her own doing. She deserves what she gets. I shall
have my own story to tell, Alexey.” He smiled bitterly again. “Only ...
only Grusha, Grusha! Good Lord! Why should she have such suffering to
bear?” he exclaimed suddenly, with tears. “Grusha’s killing me; the
thought of her’s killing me, killing me. She was with me just now....”
“She told me she was very much grieved by you to-day.”
“I know. Confound my temper! It was jealousy. I was sorry, I kissed her
as she was going. I didn’t ask her forgiveness.”
“Why didn’t you?” exclaimed Alyosha.
Suddenly Mitya laughed almost mirthfully.
“God preserve you, my dear boy, from ever asking forgiveness for a
fault from a woman you love. From one you love especially, however
greatly you may have been in fault. For a woman—devil only knows what
to make of a woman! I know something about them, anyway. But try
acknowledging you are in fault to a woman. Say, ‘I am sorry, forgive
me,’ and a shower of reproaches will follow! Nothing will make her
forgive you simply and directly, she’ll humble you to the dust, bring
forward things that have never happened, recall everything, forget
nothing, add something of her own, and only then forgive you. And even
the best, the best of them do it. She’ll scrape up all the scrapings
and load them on your head. They are ready to flay you alive, I tell
you, every one of them, all these angels without whom we cannot live! I
tell you plainly and openly, dear boy, every decent man ought to be
under some woman’s thumb. That’s my conviction—not conviction, but
feeling. A man ought to be magnanimous, and it’s no disgrace to a man!
No disgrace to a hero, not even a Cæsar! But don’t ever beg her pardon
all the same for anything. Remember that rule given you by your brother
Mitya, who’s come to ruin through women. No, I’d better make it up to
Grusha somehow, without begging pardon. I worship her, Alexey, worship
her. Only she doesn’t see it. No, she still thinks I don’t love her
enough. And she tortures me, tortures me with her love. The past was
nothing! In the past it was only those infernal curves of hers that
tortured me, but now I’ve taken all her soul into my soul and through
her I’ve become a man myself. Will they marry us? If they don’t, I
shall die of jealousy. I imagine something every day.... What did she
say to you about me?”
Alyosha repeated all Grushenka had said to him that day. Mitya
listened, made him repeat things, and seemed pleased.
“Then she is not angry at my being jealous?” he exclaimed. “She is a
regular woman! ‘I’ve a fierce heart myself!’ Ah, I love such fierce
hearts, though I can’t bear any one’s being jealous of me. I can’t
endure it. We shall fight. But I shall love her, I shall love her
infinitely. Will they marry us? Do they let convicts marry? That’s the
question. And without her I can’t exist....”
Mitya walked frowning across the room. It was almost dark. He suddenly
seemed terribly worried.
“So there’s a secret, she says, a secret? We have got up a plot against
her, and Katya is mixed up in it, she thinks. No, my good Grushenka,
that’s not it. You are very wide of the mark, in your foolish feminine
way. Alyosha, darling, well, here goes! I’ll tell you our secret!”
He looked round, went close up quickly to Alyosha, who was standing
before him, and whispered to him with an air of mystery, though in
reality no one could hear them: the old warder was dozing in the
corner, and not a word could reach the ears of the soldiers on guard.
“I will tell you all our secret,” Mitya whispered hurriedly. “I meant
to tell you later, for how could I decide on anything without you? You
are everything to me. Though I say that Ivan is superior to us, you are
my angel. It’s your decision will decide it. Perhaps it’s you that is
superior and not Ivan. You see, it’s a question of conscience, question
of the higher conscience—the secret is so important that I can’t settle
it myself, and I’ve put it off till I could speak to you. But anyway
it’s too early to decide now, for we must wait for the verdict. As soon
as the verdict is given, you shall decide my fate. Don’t decide it now.
I’ll tell you now. You listen, but don’t decide. Stand and keep quiet.
I won’t tell you everything. I’ll only tell you the idea, without
details, and you keep quiet. Not a question, not a movement. You agree?
But, goodness, what shall I do with your eyes? I’m afraid your eyes
will tell me your decision, even if you don’t speak. Oo! I’m afraid!
Alyosha, listen! Ivan suggests my _escaping_. I won’t tell you the
details: it’s all been thought out: it can all be arranged. Hush, don’t
decide. I should go to America with Grusha. You know I can’t live
without Grusha! What if they won’t let her follow me to Siberia? Do
they let convicts get married? Ivan thinks not. And without Grusha what
should I do there underground with a hammer? I should only smash my
skull with the hammer! But, on the other hand, my conscience? I should
have run away from suffering. A sign has come, I reject the sign. I
have a way of salvation and I turn my back on it. Ivan says that in
America, ‘with the good-will,’ I can be of more use than underground.
But what becomes of our hymn from underground? What’s America? America
is vanity again! And there’s a lot of swindling in America, too, I
expect. I should have run away from crucifixion! I tell you, you know,
Alexey, because you are the only person who can understand this.
There’s no one else. It’s folly, madness to others, all I’ve told you
of the hymn. They’ll say I’m out of my mind or a fool. I am not out of
my mind and I am not a fool. Ivan understands about the hymn, too. He
understands, only he doesn’t answer—he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t
believe in the hymn. Don’t speak, don’t speak. I see how you look! You
have already decided. Don’t decide, spare me! I can’t live without
Grusha. Wait till after the trial!”
Mitya ended beside himself. He held Alyosha with both hands on his
shoulders, and his yearning, feverish eyes were fixed on his brother’s.
“They don’t let convicts marry, do they?” he repeated for the third
time in a supplicating voice.
Alyosha listened with extreme surprise and was deeply moved.
“Tell me one thing,” he said. “Is Ivan very keen on it, and whose idea
was it?”
“His, his, and he is very keen on it. He didn’t come to see me at
first, then he suddenly came a week ago and he began about it straight
away. He is awfully keen on it. He doesn’t ask me, but orders me to
escape. He doesn’t doubt of my obeying him, though I showed him all my
heart as I have to you, and told him about the hymn, too. He told me
he’d arrange it; he’s found out about everything. But of that later.
He’s simply set on it. It’s all a matter of money: he’ll pay ten
thousand for escape and give me twenty thousand for America. And he
says we can arrange a magnificent escape for ten thousand.”
“And he told you on no account to tell me?” Alyosha asked again.
“To tell no one, and especially not you; on no account to tell you. He
is afraid, no doubt, that you’ll stand before me as my conscience.
Don’t tell him I told you. Don’t tell him, for anything.”
“You are right,” Alyosha pronounced; “it’s impossible to decide
anything before the trial is over. After the trial you’ll decide of
yourself. Then you’ll find that new man in yourself and he will
decide.”
“A new man, or a Bernard who’ll decide _à la_ Bernard, for I believe
I’m a contemptible Bernard myself,” said Mitya, with a bitter grin.
“But, brother, have you no hope then of being acquitted?”
Mitya shrugged his shoulders nervously and shook his head. “Alyosha,
darling, it’s time you were going,” he said, with a sudden haste.
“There’s the superintendent shouting in the yard. He’ll be here
directly. We are late; it’s irregular. Embrace me quickly. Kiss me!
Sign me with the cross, darling, for the cross I have to bear
to-morrow.”
They embraced and kissed.
“Ivan,” said Mitya suddenly, “suggests my escaping; but, of course, he
believes I did it.”
A mournful smile came on to his lips.
“Have you asked him whether he believes it?” asked Alyosha.
“No, I haven’t. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I hadn’t the courage. But
I saw it from his eyes. Well, good-by!”
Once more they kissed hurriedly, and Alyosha was just going out, when
Mitya suddenly called him back.
“Stand facing me! That’s right!” And again he seized Alyosha, putting
both hands on his shoulders. His face became suddenly quite pale, so
that it was dreadfully apparent, even through the gathering darkness.
His lips twitched, his eyes fastened upon Alyosha.