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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



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to wait,” she ended suddenly. “Tell

me rather why you who are so clever, so intellectual, so observant,

choose a little idiot, an invalid like me? Ah, Alyosha, I am awfully

happy, for I don’t deserve you a bit.”

 

“You do, Lise. I shall be leaving the monastery altogether in a

few days. If I go into the world, I must marry. I know that. He told

me to marry, too. Whom could I marry better than you-and who would

have me except you? I have been thinking it over. In the first

place, you’ve known me from a child and you’ve a great many

qualities I haven’t. You are more lighthearted than I am; above

all, you are more innocent than I am. I have been brought into contact

with many, many things already…. Ah, you don’t know, but I, too,

am a Karamazov. What does it matter if you do laugh and make jokes,

and at me, too? Go on laughing. I am so glad you do. You laugh like

a little child, but you think like a martyr.”

 

“Like a martyr? How?”

 

“Yes, Lise, your question just now: whether we weren’t showing

contempt for that poor man by dissecting his soul-that was the

question of a sufferer…. You see, I don’t know how to express it,

but anyone who thinks of such questions is capable of suffering.

Sitting in your invalid chair you must have thought over many things

already.”

 

“Alyosha, give me your hand. Why are you taking it away?” murmured

Lise in a failing voice, weak with happiness. “Listen, Alyosha. What

will you wear when you come out of the monastery? What sort of suit?

Don’t laugh, don’t be angry, it’s very, very important to me.”

 

“I haven’t thought about the suit, Lise; But I’ll wear whatever

you like.”

 

“I should like you to have a dark blue velvet coat, a white

pique waistcoat, and a soft grey felt hat…. Tell me, did you believe

that I didn’t care for you when I said I didn’t mean what I wrote?”

 

“No, I didn’t believe it.”

 

“Oh, you insupportable person, you are incorrigible.”

 

“You see, I knew that you seemed to care for me, but I pretended

to believe that you didn’t care for me to make it easier for you.”

 

“That makes it worse! Worse and better than all! Alyosha, I am

awfully fond of you. Just before you came this morning, I tried my

fortune. I decided I would ask you for my letter, and if you brought

it out calmly and gave it to me (as might have been expected from you)

it would mean that you did not love me at all, that you felt

nothing, and were simply a stupid boy, good for nothing, and that I am

ruined. But you left the letter at home and that cheered me. You

left it behind on purpose, so as not to give it back, because you knew

I would ask for it? That was it, wasn’t it?”

 

“Ah, Lise, it was not so a bit. The letter is with me now, and

it was this morning, in this pocket. Here it is.”

 

Alyosha pulled the letter out laughing, and showed it her at a

distance.

 

“But I am not going to give it to you. Look at it from here.”

 

“Why, then you told a lie? You, a monk, told a lie!”

 

“I told a lie if you like,” Alyosha laughed, too. “I told a lie so

as not to give you back the letter. It’s very precious to me,” he

added suddenly, with strong feeling, and again he flushed. “It

always will be, and I won’t give it up to anyone!”

 

Lise looked at him joyfully. “Alyosha,” she murmured again,

“look at the door. Isn’t mamma listening?”

 

“Very well, Lise, I’ll look; but wouldn’t it be better not to

look? Why suspect your mother of such meanness?”

 

“What meanness? As for her spying on her daughter, it’s her right,

it’s not meanness!” cried Lise, firing up. “You may be sure, Alexey

Fyodorovitch, that when I am a mother, if I have a daughter like

myself I shall certainly spy on her!”

 

“Really, Lise? That’s not right.”

 

“Oh, my goodness! What has meanness to do with it? If she were

listening to some ordinary worldly conversation, it would be meanness,

but when her own daughter is shut up with a young man… Listen,

Alyosha, do you know I shall spy upon you as soon as we are married,

and let me tell you I shall open all your letters and read them, so

you may as well be prepared.”

 

“Yes, of course, if so- ” muttered Alyosha, “only it’s not right.”

 

“Ah, how contemptuous! Alyosha, dear, we won’t quarrel the very

first day. I’d better tell you the whole truth. Of course, it’s very

wrong to spy on people, and, of course, I am not right and you are,

only I shall spy on you all the same.”

 

“Do, then; you won’t find out anything,” laughed Alyosha.

 

“And Alyosha, will you give in to me? We must decide that too.”

 

“I shall be delighted to, Lise, and certain to, only not in the

most important things. Even if you don’t agree with me, I shall do

my duty in the most important things.”

 

“That’s right; but let me tell you I am ready to give in to you

not only in the most important matters, but in everything. And I am

ready to vow to do so now-in everything, and for all my life!”

cried Lise fervently, “and I’ll do it gladly, gladly! What’s more,

I’ll swear never to spy on you, never once, never to read one of

your letters. For you are right and I am not. And though I shall be

awfully tempted to spy, I know that I won’t do it since you consider

it dishonourable. You are my conscience now…. Listen, Alexey

Fyodorovitch, why have you been so sad lately-both yesterday and

to-day? I know you have a lot of anxiety and trouble, but I see you

have some special grief besides, some secret one, perhaps?”

 

“Yes, Lise, I have a secret one, too,” answered Alyosha

mournfully. “I see you love me, since you guessed that.”

 

“What grief? What about? Can you tell me?” asked Lise with timid

entreaty.

 

“I’ll tell you later, Lise-afterwards,” said Alyosha, confused.

“Now you wouldn’t understand it perhaps-and perhaps I couldn’t

explain it.”

 

“I know your brothers and your father are worrying you, too.”

 

“Yes, my brothers too,” murmured Alyosha, pondering.

 

“I don’t like your brother Ivan, Alyosha,” said Lise suddenly.

 

He noticed this remark with some surprise, but did not answer it.

 

“My brothers are destroying themselves,” he went on, “my father,

too. And they are destroying others with them. It’s ‘the primitive

force of the Karamazovs,’ as father Paissy said the other day, a

crude, unbridled, earthly force. Does the spirit of God move above

that force? Even that I don’t know. I only know that I, too, am a

Karamazov…. Me a monk, a monk! Am I a monk, Lise? You said just

now that I was.”

 

“Yes, I did.”

 

“And perhaps I don’t even believe in God.”

 

“You don’t believe? What is the matter?” said Lise quietly and

gently. But Alyosha did not answer. There was something too

mysterious, too subjective in these last words of his, perhaps obscure

to himself, but yet torturing him.

 

“And now on the top of it all, my friend, the best man in the

world is going, is leaving the earth! If you knew, Lise, how bound

up in soul I am with him! And then I shall be left alone…. I shall

come to you, Lise…. For the future we will be together.”

 

“Yes, together, together! Henceforward we shall be always

together, all our lives! Listen, kiss me, I allow you.”

 

Alyosha kissed her.

 

“Come, now go. Christ be with you!” and she made the sign of the

cross over him. “Make haste back to him while he is alive. I see

I’ve kept you cruelly. I’ll pray to-day for him and you. Alyosha, we

shall be happy! Shall we be happy, shall we?”

 

“I believe we shall, Lise.”

 

Alyosha thought it better not to go in to Madame Hohlakov and

was going out of the house without saying good-bye to her. But no

sooner had he opened the door than he found Madame Hohlakov standing

before him. From the first word Alyosha guessed that she had been

waiting on purpose to meet him.

 

“Alexey Fyodorovitch, this is awful. This is all childish nonsense

and ridiculous. I trust you won’t dream-It’s foolishness, nothing but

foolishness!” she said, attacking him at once.

 

“Only don’t tell her that,” said Alyosha, “or she will be upset,

and that’s bad for her now.”

 

“Sensible advice from a sensible young man. Am I to understand

that you only agreed with her from compassion for her invalid state,

because you didn’t want to irritate her by contradiction?”

 

“Oh no, not at all. I was quite serious in what I said,” Alyosha

declared stoutly.

 

“To be serious about it is impossible, unthinkable, and in the

first place I shall never be at home to you again, and I shall take

her away, you may be sure of that.”

 

“But why?” asked Alyosha. “It’s all so far off. We may have to

wait another year and a half.”

 

“Ah, Alexey Fyodorovitch, that’s true, of course, and you’ll

have time to quarrel and separate a thousand times in a year and a

half. But I am so unhappy! Though it’s such nonsense, it’s a great

blow to me. I feel like Famusov in the last scene of Sorrow from

Wit. You are Tchatsky and she is Sofya, and, only fancy, I’ve run down

to meet you on the stairs, and in the play the fatal scene takes place

on the staircase. I heard it all; I almost dropped. So this is the

explanation of her dreadful night and her hysterics of late! It

means love to the daughter but death to the mother. I might as well be

in my grave at once. And a more serious matter still, what is this

letter she has written? Show it me at once, at once!”

 

“No, there’s no need. Tell me, how is Katerina Ivanovna now? I

must know.”

 

“She still lies in delirium; she has not regained consciousness.

Her aunts are here; but they do nothing but sigh and give themselves

airs. Herzenstube came, and he was so alarmed that I didn’t know

what to do for him. I nearly sent for a doctor to look after him. He

was driven home in my carriage. And on the top of it all, you and this

letter! It’s true nothing can happen for a year and a half. In the

name of all that’s holy, in the name of your dying elder, show me that

letter, Alexey Fyodorovitch. I’m her mother. Hold it in your hand,

if you like, and I will read it so.”

 

“No, I won’t show it to you. Even if she sanctioned it, I

wouldn’t. I am coming to-morrow, and if you like, we can talk over

many things, but now good-bye!”

 

And Alyosha ran downstairs and into the street.

Chapter 2

Smerdyakov with a Guitar

 

HE had no time to lose indeed. Even while he was saying good-bye

to Lise, the thought had struck him that he must attempt some

stratagem to find his brother Dmitri, who was evidently keeping out of

his way. It was getting late, nearly

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