Read FICTION books online

Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



Fiction genre suitable for people of all ages. Everyone will find something interesting for themselves. Our electronic library is always at your service. Reading online free books without registration. Nowadays ebooks are convenient and efficient. After all, don’t forget: literature exists and develops largely thanks to readers.
The genre of fiction is interesting to read not only by the process of cognition and the desire to empathize with the fate of the hero, this genre is interesting for the ability to rethink one's own life. Of course the reader may accept the author's point of view or disagree with them, but the reader should understand that the author has done a great job and deserves respect. Take a closer look at genre fiction in all its manifestations in our elibrary.



Read books online » Fiction » The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (best e book reader for android txt) 📖

Book online «The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (best e book reader for android txt) 📖». Author Fyodor Dostoyevsky



1 ... 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 ... 178
Go to page:
should

fall in love with such a little slut. It’s a jolly good thing that

there always are and will be masters and slaves in the world, so there

always will be a little maid-of-all-work and her master, and you know,

that’s all that’s needed for happiness. Stay… listen, Alyosha, I

always used to surprise your mother, but in a different way. I paid no

attention to her at all, but all at once, when the minute came, I’d be

all devotion to her, crawl on my knees, kiss her feet, and I always,

always-I remember it as though it were to-day- reduced her to that

tinkling, quiet, nervous, queer little laugh. It was peculiar to

her. I knew her attacks always used to begin like that. The next day

she would begin shrieking hysterically, and this little laugh was

not a sign of delight, though it made a very good counterfeit.

That’s the great thing, to know how to take everyone. Once

Belyavsky-he was a handsome fellow, and rich-used to like to come

here and hang about her-suddenly gave me a slap in the face in her

presence. And she-such a mild sheep-why, I thought she would have

knocked me down for that blow. How she set on me! ‘You’re beaten,

beaten now,’ she said, ‘You’ve taken a blow from him. You have been

trying to sell me to him,’ she said… ‘And how dared he strike you in

my presence! Don’t dare come near me again, never, never! Run at once,

challenge him to a duel!’… I took her to the monastery then to bring

her to her senses. The holy Fathers prayed her back to reason. But I

swear, by God, Alyosha, I never insulted the poor crazy girl! Only

once, perhaps, in the first year; then she was very fond of praying.

She used to keep the feasts of Our Lady particularly and used to

turn me out of her room then. I’ll knock that mysticism out of her,

thought I! ‘Here,’ said I, ‘you see your holy image. Here it is.

Here I take it down. You believe it’s miraculous, but here, I’ll

spit on it directly and nothing will happen to me for it!’… When she

saw it, good Lord! I thought she would kill me. But she only jumped

up, wrung her hands, then suddenly hid her face in them, began

trembling all over and fell on the floor… fell all of a heap.

Alyosha, Alyosha, what’s the matter?”

 

The old man jumped up in alarm. From the time he had begun

speaking about his mother, a change had gradually come over

Alyosha’s face. He flushed crimson, his eyes glowed, his lips

quivered. The old sot had gone spluttering on, noticing nothing,

till the moment when something very strange happened to Alyosha.

Precisely what he was describing in the crazy woman was suddenly

repeated with Alyosha. He jumped up from his seat exactly as his

mother was said to have done, wrung his hands, hid his face in them,

and fell back in his chair, shaking all over in an hysterical paroxysm

of sudden violent, silent weeping. His extraordinary resemblance to

his mother particularly impressed the old man.

 

“Ivan, Ivan! Water, quickly! It’s like her, exactly as she used to

be then, his mother. Spurt some water on him from your mouth, that’s

what I used to do to her. He’s upset about his mother, his mother,” he

muttered to Ivan.

 

“But she was my mother, too, I believe, his mother. Was she

not?” said Ivan, with uncontrolled anger and contempt. The old man

shrank before his flashing eyes. But something very strange had

happened, though only for a second; it seemed really to have escaped

the old man’s mind that Alyosha’s mother actually was the mother of

Ivan too.

 

“Your mother?” he muttered, not understanding. “What do you

mean? What mother are you talking about? Was she?… Why, damn it!

of course she was yours too! Damn it! My mind has never been so

darkened before. Excuse me, why, I was thinking Ivan… He he he!”

He stopped. A broad, drunken, half senseless grin overspread his face.

 

At that moment a fearful noise, and clamour was heard in the hall,

there were violent shouts, the door was flung open, and Dmitri burst

into the room. The old man rushed to Ivan in terror.

 

“He’ll kill me! He’ll kill me! Don’t let him get at me!” he

screamed, clinging to the skirt of Ivan’s coat.

Chapter 9

The Sensualists

 

GRIGORY and Smerdyakov ran into the room after Dmitri. They had

been struggling with him in the passage, refusing to admit him, acting

on instructions given them by Fyodor Pavlovitch some days before.

Taking advantage of the fact that Dmitri stopped a moment on

entering the room to look about him, Grigory ran round the table,

closed the double doors on the opposite side of the room leading to

the inner apartments, and stood before the closed doors, stretching

wide his arms, prepared to defend the entrance, so to speak, with

the last drop of his blood. Seeing this, Dmitri uttered a scream

rather than a shout and rushed at Grigory.

 

“Then she’s there! She’s hidden there! Out of the way, scoundrel!”

 

He tried to pull Grigory away, but the old servant pushed him

back. Beside himself with fury, Dmitri struck out, and hit Grigory

with all his might. The old man fell like a log, and Dmitri, leaping

over him, broke in the door. Smerdyakov remained pale and trembling at

the other end of the room, huddling close to Fyodor Pavlovitch.

 

“She’s here!” shouted Dmitri. “I saw her turn towards the house

just now, but I couldn’t catch her. Where is she? Where is she?”

 

That shout, “She’s here!” produced an indescribable effect on

Fyodor Pavlovitch. All his terror left him.

 

“Hold him! Hold him!” he cried, and dashed after Dmitri. Meanwhile

Grigory had got up from the floor, but still seemed stunned. Ivan

and Alyosha ran after their father. In the third room something was

heard to fall on the floor with a ringing crash: it was a large

glass vase-not an expensive one-on a marble pedestal which Dmitri

had upset as he ran past it.

 

“At him!” shouted the old man. “Help!”

 

Ivan and Alyosha caught the old man and were forcibly bringing him

back.

 

“Why do you run after him? He’ll murder you outright,” Ivan

cried wrathfully at his father.

 

“Ivan! Alyosha! She must be here. Grushenka’s here. He said he saw

her himself, running.”

 

He was choking. He was not expecting Grushenka at the time, and

the sudden news that she was here made him beside himself. He was

trembling all over. He seemed frantic.

 

“But you’ve seen for yourself that she hasn’t come,” cried Ivan.

 

“But she may have come by that other entrance.”

 

“You know that entrance is locked, and you have the key.”

 

Dmitri suddenly reappeared in the drawing-room. He had, of course,

found the other entrance locked, and the key actually was in Fyodor

Pavlovitch’s pocket. The windows of all rooms were also closed, so

Grushenka could not have come in anywhere nor have run out anywhere.

 

“Hold him!” shrieked Fyodor Pavlovitch, as soon as he saw him

again. “He’s been stealing money in my bedroom.” And tearing himself

from Ivan he rushed again at Dmitri. But Dmitri threw up both hands

and suddenly clutched the old man by the two tufts of hair that

remained on his temples, tugged at them, and flung him with a crash on

the floor. He kicked him two or three times with his heel in the face.

The old man moaned shrilly. Ivan, though not so strong as Dmitri,

threw his arms round him, and with all his might pulled him away.

Alyosha helped him with his slender strength, holding Dmitri in front.

 

“Madman! You’ve killed him!” cried Ivan.

 

“Serve him right!” shouted Dmitri breathlessly. “If I haven’t

killed him, I’ll come again and kill him. You can’t protect him!”

 

“Dmitri! Go away at once!” cried Alyosha commandingly.

 

“Alexey! You tell me. It’s only you I can believe; was she here

just now, or not? I saw her myself creeping this way by the fence from

the lane. I shouted, she ran away.”

 

“I swear she’s not been here, and no one expected her.”

 

“But I saw her…. So she must… I’ll find out at once where

she is…. Goodbye, Alexey! Not a word to Aesop about the money

now. But go to Katerina Ivanovna at once and be sure to say, ‘He sends

his compliments to you!’ Compliments, his compliments! just

compliments and farewell! Describe the scene to her.”

 

Meanwhile Ivan and Grigory had raised the old man and seated him

in an armchair. His face was covered with blood, but he was conscious

and listened greedily to Dmitri’s cries. He was still fancying that

Grushenka really was somewhere in the house. Dmitri looked at him with

hatred as he went out.

 

“I don’t repent shedding your blood!” he cried. “Beware, old

man, beware of your dream, for I have my dream, too. I curse you,

and disown you altogether.”

 

He ran out of the room.

 

“She’s here. She must be here. Smerdyakov! Smerdyakov!” the old

man wheezed, scarcely audibly, beckoning to him with his finger.

 

“No, she’s not here, you old lunatic!” Ivan shouted at him

angrily. “Here, he’s fainting? Water! A towel! Make haste,

Smerdyakov!”

 

Smerdyakov ran for water. At last they got the old man

undressed, and put him to bed. They wrapped a wet towel round his

head. Exhausted by the brandy, by his violent emotion, and the blows

he had received, he shut his eyes and fell asleep as soon as his

head touched the pillow. Ivan and Alyosha went back to the

drawing-room. Smerdyakov removed the fragments of the broken vase,

while Grigory stood by the table looking gloomily at the floor.

 

“Shouldn’t you put a wet bandage on your head and go to bed, too?”

Alyosha said to him. “We’ll look after him. My brother gave you a

terrible blow-on the head.”

 

“He’s insulted me!” Grigory articulated gloomily and distinctly.

 

“He’s ‘insulted’ his father, not only you,” observed Ivan with a

forced smile.

 

“I used to wash him in his tub. He’s insulted me,” repeated

Grigory.

 

“Damn it all, if I hadn’t pulled him away perhaps he’d have

murdered him. It wouldn’t take much to do for Aesop, would it?”

whispered Ivan to Alyosha.

 

“God forbid!” cried Alyosha.

 

“Why should He forbid?” Ivan went on in the same whisper, with a

malignant grimace. “One reptile will devour the other. And serve

them both right, too.”

 

Alyosha shuddered.

 

“Of course I won’t let him be murdered as I didn’t just now.

Stay here, Alyosha, I’ll go for a turn in the yard. My head’s begun to

ache.”

 

Alyosha went to his father’s bedroom and sat by his bedside behind

the screen for about an hour. The old man suddenly opened his eyes and

gazed for a long while at Alyosha, evidently remembering and

meditating. All at once his face betrayed extraordinary excitement.

 

“Alyosha,” he whispered apprehensively, “where’s Ivan?”

 

“In the yard. He’s got a headache. He’s on the watch.”

 

“Give me that looking-glass. It stands over there. Give it me.”

 

Alyosha gave him a little round folding looking-glass which

stood on the chest of drawers. The old man looked at himself in it;

his nose was considerably swollen, and on the left side of his

forehead there was a rather large crimson bruise.

 

“What does Ivan say? Alyosha, my dear, my only son, I’m afraid

of Ivan. I’m more

1 ... 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 ... 178
Go to page:

Free ebook «The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (best e book reader for android txt) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment