The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (best e book reader for android txt) 📖

him with a nervous

laugh. “I was boasting when I told Rakitin I had given away an

onion, but it’s not to boast I tell you about it. It’s only a story,

but it’s a nice story. I used to hear it when I was a child from

Matryona, my cook, who is still with me. It’s like this. Once upon a

time there was a peasant woman and a very wicked woman she was. And

she died and did not leave a single good deed behind. The devils

caught her and plunged her into the lake of fire. So her guardian

angel stood and wondered what good deed of hers he could remember to

tell to God; ‘She once pulled up an onion in her garden,’ said he,

‘and gave it to a beggar woman.’ And God answered: ‘You take that

onion then, hold it out to her in the lake, and let her take hold

and be pulled out. And if you can pull her out of the lake, let her

come to Paradise, but if the onion breaks, then the woman must stay

where she is.’ The angel ran to the woman and held out the onion to

her. ‘Come,’ said he, ‘catch hold and I’ll pull you out.’ he began

cautiously pulling her out. He had just pulled her right out, when the

other sinners in the lake, seeing how she was being drawn out, began

catching hold of her so as to be pulled out with her. But she was a

very wicked woman and she began kicking them. ‘I’m to be pulled out,

not you. It’s my onion, not yours.’ As soon as she said that, the

onion broke. And the woman fell into the lake and she is burning there

to this day. So the angel wept and went away. So that’s the story,

Alyosha; I know it by heart, for I am that wicked woman myself. I

boasted to Rakitin that I had given away an onion, but to you I’ll

say: ‘I’ve done nothing but give away one onion all my life, that’s

the only good deed I’ve done.’ don’t praise me, Alyosha, don’t think

me good, I am bad, I am a wicked woman and you make me ashamed if

you praise me. Eh, I must confess everything. Listen, Alyosha. I was

so anxious to get hold of you that I promised Rakitin twenty-five

roubles if he would bring you to me. Stay, Rakitin, wait!”

 

She went with rapid steps to the table, opened a drawer, pulled

out a purse and took from it a twenty-five rouble note.

 

“What nonsense! What nonsense!” cried Rakitin, disconcerted.

 

“Take it. Rakitin, I owe it you, there’s no fear of your

refusing it, you asked for it yourself.” And she threw the note to

him.

 

“Likely I should refuse it,” boomed Rakitin, obviously abashed,

but carrying off his confusion with a swagger. “That will come in very

handy; fools are made for wise men’s profit.”

 

“And now hold your tongue, Rakitin, what I am going to say now

is not for your ears. Sit down in that corner and keep quiet. You

don’t like us, so hold your tongue.”

 

“What should I like you for?” Rakitin snarled, not concealing

his ill-humour. He put the twenty-five rouble note in his pocket and

he felt ashamed at Alyosha’s seeing it. He had reckoned on receiving

his payment later, without Alyosha’s knowing of it, and now, feeling

ashamed, he lost his temper. Till that moment he had thought it

discreet not to contradict Grushenka too flatly in spite of her

snubbing, since he had something to get out of her. But now he, too,

was angry:

 

“One loves people for some reason, but what have either of you

done for me?”

 

“You should love people without a reason, as Alyosha does.”

 

“How does he love you? How has he shown it, that you make such a

fuss about it?”

 

Grushenka was standing in the middle of the room; she spoke with

heat and there were hysterical notes in her voice.

 

“Hush, Rakitin, you know nothing about us! And don’t dare to speak

to me like that again. How dare you be so familiar! Sit in that corner

and be quiet, as though you were my footman! And now, Alyosha, I’ll

tell you the whole truth, that you may see what a wretch I am! I am

not talking to Rakitin, but to you. I wanted to ruin you, Alyosha,

that’s the holy truth; I quite meant to. I wanted to so much, that I

bribed Rakitin to bring you. And why did I want to do such a thing?

You knew nothing about it, Alyosha, you turned away from me; if you

passed me, you dropped your eyes. And I’ve looked at you a hundred

times before to-day; I began asking everyone about you. Your face

haunted my heart. ‘He despises me,’ I thought; ‘he won’t even look

at me.’ And I felt it so much at last that I wondered at myself for

being so frightened of a boy. I’ll get him in my clutches and laugh at

him. I was full of spite and anger. Would you believe it, nobody

here dares talk or think of coming to Agrafena Alexandrovna with any

evil purpose. Old Kuzma is the only man I have anything to do with

here; I was bound and sold to him; Satan brought us together, but

there has been no one else. But looking at you, I thought, I’ll get

him in my clutches and laugh at him. You see what a spiteful cur I am,

and you called me your sister! And now that man who wronged me has

come; I sit here waiting for a message from him. And do you know

what that man has been to me? Five years ago, when Kuzma brought me

here, I used to shut myself up, that no one might have sight or

sound of me. I was a silly slip of a girl; I used to sit here sobbing;

I used to lie awake all night, thinking: ‘Where is he now, the man who

wronged me? He is laughing at me with another woman, most likely. If

only I could see him, if I could meet him again, I’d pay him out,

I’d pay him out!’ At night I used to lie sobbing into my pillow in the

dark, and I used to brood over it; I used to tear my heart on

purpose and gloat over my anger. ‘I’ll pay him out, I’ll pay him

out! That’s what I used to cry out in the dark. And when I suddenly

thought that I should really do nothing to him, and that he was

laughing at me then, or perhaps had utterly forgotten me, I would

fling myself on the floor, melt into helpless tears, and lie there

shaking till dawn. In the morning I would get up more spiteful than

a dog, ready to tear the whole world to pieces. And then what do you

think? I began saving money, I became hardhearted, grew stout-grew

wiser, would you say? No, no one in the whole world sees it, no one

knows it, but when night comes on, I sometimes lie as I did five years

ago, when I was a silly girl, clenching my teeth and crying all night,

thinking, ‘I’ll pay him out, I’ll pay him out!’ Do you hear? Well

then, now you understand me. A month ago a letter came to me-he was

coming, he was a widower, he wanted to see me. It took my breath away;

then I suddenly thought: ‘If he comes and whistles to call me, I shall

creep back to him like a beaten dog.’ I couldn’t believe myself. Am

I so abject? Shall I run to him or not? And I’ve been in such a rage

with myself all this month that I am worse than I was five years

ago. Do you see now, Alyosha, what a violent, vindictive creature I

am? I have shown you the whole truth! I played with Mitya to keep me

from running to that other. Hush, Rakitin, it’s not for you to judge

me, I am not speaking to you. Before you came in, I was lying here

waiting, brooding, deciding my whole future life, and you can never

know what was in my heart. Yes, Alyosha, tell your young lady not to

be angry with me for what happened the day before yesterday…. Nobody

in the whole world knows what I am going through now, and no one

ever can know…. For perhaps I shall take a knife with me to-day, I

can’t make up my mind…”

 

And at this “tragic” phrase Grushenka broke down, hid her face

in her hands, flung herself on the sofa pillows, and sobbed like a

little child.

 

Alyosha got up and went to Rakitin.

 

“Misha,” he said, “don’t be angry. She wounded you, but don’t be

angry. You heard what she said just now? You mustn’t ask too much of

human endurance, one must be merciful.”

 

Alyosha said this at the instinctive prompting of his heart. He

felt obliged to speak and he turned to Rakitin. If Rakitin had not

been there, he would have spoken to the air. But Rakitin looked at him

ironically and Alyosha stopped short.

 

“You were so primed up with your elder’s reading last night that

now you have to let it off on me, Alexey, man of God!” said Rakitin,

with a smile of hatred.

 

“Don’t laugh, Rakitin, don’t smile, don’t talk of the dead-he was

better than anyone in the world!” cried Alyosha, with tears in his

voice. “I didn’t speak to you as a judge but as the lowest of the

judged. What am I beside her? I came here seeking my ruin, and said to

myself, ‘What does it matter?’ in my cowardliness, but she, after five

years in torment, as soon as anyone says a word from the heart to herit makes her forget everything, forgive everything, in her tears!

The man who has wronged her has come back, he sends for her and she

forgives him everything, and hastens joyfully to meet him and she

won’t take a knife with her. She won’t! No, I am not like that. I

don’t know whether you are, Misha, but I am not like that. It’s a

lesson to me…. She is more loving than we…. Have you heard her

speak before of what she has just told us? No, you haven’t; if you

had, you’d have understood her long ago… and the person insulted the

day before yesterday must forgive her, too! She will, when she

knows… and she shall know…. This soul is not yet at peace with

itself, one must be tender with… there may be a treasure in that

soul….”

 

Alyosha stopped, because he caught his breath. In spite of his

ill-humour Rakitin looked at him with astonishment. He had never

expected such a tirade from the gentle Alyosha.

 

“She’s found someone to plead her cause! Why, are you in love with

her? Agrafena Alexandrovna, our monk’s really in love with you, you’ve

made a conquest!” he cried, with a coarse laugh.

 

Grushenka lifted her head from the pillow and looked at Alyosha

with a tender smile shining on her tear-stained face.

 

“Let him alone, Alyosha, my cherub; you see what he is, he is

not a person for you to speak to. Mihail Osipovitch,” she turned to

Rakitin, “I meant to beg your pardon for being rude to you, but now

I don’t want to. Alyosha, come to me, sit down here.” She beckoned

to him with a happy smile. “That’s right, sit here. Tell me,” she took

him by the hand and peeped