The Brothers Karamazov (105 page)

“But he didn’t kill anybody,” Alyosha said a little sharply. He was growing impatient and was afraid to be late for his visit to Mitya.

“I know, it was that old man Gregory who murdered . . .”

“Gregory? What are you talking about?” Alyosha cried.

“Yes, yes, it was he. Your brother had hit him on the head, so he lay there for a while and then he got up, saw the door open, went in, and killed your father . . .”

“But why, why would he have done it?”

“Why, he was in a state of temporary insanity, of course, after your brother had struck him on the head. So when he came to, he went inside the house and killed Mr. Karamazov. As to his saying that he didn’t kill him, he may simply not remember it. Only, you see, it would be much better if Dmitry was the murderer. Besides, he is the murderer; I may have just said it was Gregory, but it’s really Dmitry and it’s much better that way! And please don’t imagine that I think it’s better because I’d rather it was the son who murdered his father than anyone else! In fact, just the opposite, I feel children should show respect for their parents. But I still say it’s much better if he did it, for in that case you really have nothing to worry about since he did it without being conscious of what he was doing or, to be more accurate, he was conscious and remembers it very well, but he has no idea what came over him. So let them acquit him—it would be so humane! And let everyone appreciate the benefits of our humanitarian reforms. Somehow, I know nothing about those changes, but they assure me that that’s the way things have been now for a long time. When I heard of it, I was so amazed that I almost sent someone to call you . . .

“And after he’s acquitted, I want him to come straight here from the courtroom, to dinner. I’ll invite all my friends and we’ll all drink to our new courts of justice! I don’t think it would be dangerous to invite your brother to dinner, do you? Besides, there’ll be many other guests, so they could always take him out if he started anything . . . And later he could go to some other town and become a justice of the peace or something of that sort, for I am convinced that people who have suffered themselves are the best qualified to judge others. But the most important thing is that one can no longer be sure nowadays who is and who is not in a state of temporary insanity—you may be now, I may be, we may all be . . . I can think of so many instances: Imagine a man sitting and singing a romantic song . . . Suddenly he gets annoyed at something or other, so he snatches up his pistol and kills the person nearest to him and eventually is acquitted. That’s a case I read about recently and all the doctors agree that it was temporary insanity. This is really a blessing granted us by the judiciary reform.

“And you know what, my own Lise keeps lapsing into temporary insanity. Yesterday she reduced me to tears, and the day before too. But today at last I realized it was simply temporary insanity . . . Oh, I’m terribly worried about Lise, you know. I think she’s gone quite mad lately. And, by the way, why did she send for you? Did she actually send for you or did you come of your own accord?”

“She sent for me and I must go and see her now,” Alyosha said, getting up determinedly.

“Ah, my dear Alexei, this is perhaps the most important thing I wanted to tell you,” Mrs. Khokhlakov exclaimed, unexpectedly bursting into tears. “As God is my witness, I trust you implicitly where Lise is concerned and I don’t even mind that she asked you to come in secret from her mother. I cannot, however, entrust her so easily to your brother Ivan, although I want you to know that I consider him the most chivalrous young man . . . But, you know, he came to see Lise and I knew nothing about it!”

“Really? Ivan? When?” Alyosha was greatly surprised. He did not sit down again but remained standing, listening to her.

“Let me tell you about it. Actually, I think it was to talk to you about that that I asked you to come in and see me just now, although I’m no longer sure. Let me start by saying that Ivan has come to see me only twice since his return from Moscow: the first time was a courtesy visit and the second time, quite recently, he came in because he knew Katya was here. Of course, I have absolutely no right to reproach him for not visiting me more often because I know how busy he is now, 
vous comprenez, cette affaire et la mort terrible de votre papa
, but then I suddenly found out that he had been received in my house after all, not by me but by Lise—six days ago: he came, stayed with her for five minutes, then left. And I didn’t learn of it until three days later, when Glafira told me. It gave me quite a shock. So I called Lise, and do you know what she told me? She said: ‘You were asleep when he came and he didn’t want to disturb you. He just came to inquire after your health.’ And when she said it, she laughed. Well, of course, I wouldn’t think of doubting her word; but I’m so terribly upset about Lise! Imagine, one night—it was four days ago, after your last visit—she suddenly had a fit: crying, screaming, hysterics, everything! Now, why is it that I never have hysterics? The following day she had another fit, and another one the day after. And then yesterday, she had that temporary insanity, and during it she started shouting at me, ‘I hate Ivan Karamazov and I demand that you forbid him to come to this house!’ I was completely dumbfounded and told her that I wouldn’t dream of closing my door to a very distinguished young man, cultured and well mannered, especially now, after the cruel blow he’s suffered, when he’s so unhappy—for after all that has happened I must assume that he is more unhappy than happy, don’t you think? But all of a sudden Lise burst out laughing at my words, and she laughed so insultingly, it was quite terrible. Still, I was pleased. I thought that now that I’d made her laugh she’d get over those fits, especially since I was planning to tell your brother to stop paying her such strange visits, and to ask him for an explanation.

“But this morning Lise awoke in one of those terrible moods, and, imagine, she slapped Julia’s face. I think that’s quite intolerable, because I myself always treat the maids as equals. Now, one hour later, she threw herself at Julia’s feet and kissed them. But to me she sent a message that she would not come to see me, that, in fact, she didn’t think she wanted to see me at all. So I, with my bad foot, dragged myself to her room and when I got there, she threw herself on me, started kissing me, and wept, and, still kissing me, pushed me out of her room without a word of explanation, so that I never found out anything.

“And now, my dear Alexei, all my hopes lie with you—there’s no need to tell you that my whole life is in your hands. I simply beseech you to go and see Lise, find out everything from her, as only you can do, and then come and tell me, her mother, what’s going on, for you must understand that it will kill me, yes, actually kill me, if things continue like this. I will have to flee this house. I cannot stand it any longer! I know I have a great deal of patience, but I may lose it and then . . . And then it will be really terrible! Ah Lord, here’s Peter at last!” Mrs. Khokhlakov cried, her face suddenly becoming radiant at the sight of Perkhotin.

“Oh, you’re so dreadfully late! Well, sit down then and tell me the final word. What has the lawyer decided? Where are you off to, Alexei?”

“I must go and see Lise.”

“Oh, yes. And you won’t forget what I asked you, will you? It’s most awfully important, you know!”

“I certainly won’t forget and I’ll do what I can . . . But I’m very late as it is,” Alyosha muttered, beating a hasty retreat.

“No, I don’t want you to do what you can—you must come and tell me. I’ll die if you don’t!” Mrs. Khokhlakov called after him. But Alyosha was already gone.

Chapter 3: The Hell Kitten

WHEN ALYOSHA entered Lise’s room, she was reclining in her old wheel-chair, which she no longer needed since she was now able to walk. She did not move, but her sharp eyes were fixed searchingly on his face. Her eyes were slightly inflamed and her face was pale and sallow. Alyosha was struck by how much she had changed in the past three days; he thought she had even grown thinner. She did not offer him her hand and he stretched out his and touched the long slender fingers that lay motionless on her dress. Then, in silence, he sat down facing her.

“I know you’re in a hurry to get to the prison,” Lise said irritatedly, “and that my mother has kept you for two hours, telling you about me and Julia.”

“How do you know what she told me?”

“I was eavesdropping. Why are you staring at me like that? If I want to eavesdrop, I’ll eavesdrop; there’s nothing wrong with it and I’m not going to apologize.”

“Something is upsetting you, isn’t it?”

“Nothing at all. Indeed, I was just thinking for the thirtieth time what a good thing it is that I broke off our engagement and decided not to become your wife. You wouldn’t be much of a husband, you know. If I married you, I might some day give you a note to take to another man I’d fallen in love with and I’m sure you’d take it to him and bring me back his answer. And you’d still be carrying my little notes when you were forty.”

She suddenly laughed.

“There’s something spiteful and at the same time sincere about you,” Alyosha said with a smile.

“I’m sincere simply because I’m shameless when I’m with you, because I don’t even want to be ashamed of anything before you, yes, precisely before you. Why don’t I have any respect for you, Alyosha? I’m terribly fond of you, you know, but I have no respect for you at all. For if I did respect you, I wouldn’t be talking to you like this without feeling ashamed, would I?”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“But do you believe that I feel no shame when I’m with you?”

“No, I don’t.”

Lise laughed nervously again. She was talking quickly, in staccato fashion.

“I sent some candy to your brother Dmitry in prison. Alyosha, do you know, you look awfully handsome! I’ll always be terribly fond of you because you have allowed me so readily not to be in love with you!”

“Why did you send for me today, Lise?”

“Because I wanted to tell you something. I want someone to marry me, tear me to pieces, betray me, and then desert me. I don’t want to be happy.”

“Have you fallen in love with disorder?”

“Oh no, I don’t want disorder. I keep yearning to set fire to this house. I keep imagining how I’d creep up quietly and start the fire. And I absolutely must do it quietly, on the sly. People will try to put the fire out, but it will go on burning. And I’ll know but will say nothing. But this is all nonsense . . . Ah, it’s such a bore.”

She made a disgusted face and waved her hand.

“You live too comfortably. You’re rich,” Alyosha said quietly.

“Do you think I’d be better off if I were poor?”

“Yes, you would be.”

“You got all these ideas from that monk who died recently, that friend of yours. And it’s not true. I enjoy being rich, while everybody around me is poor. I’ll stuff myself with candy and whipped cream and never offer any to other people. No, no, don’t say anything!” she cried, waving her hands at Alyosha, although he hadn’t even tried to open his mouth. “You’ve already told me everything you can tell me. I know it all by heart and I’m bored with it. If I were poor, I’d kill someone. As a matter of fact, I may still kill someone, even if I remain rich, for what use is it to just sit around doing nothing? You know what—I want to reap, to reap rye, so I’ll marry you and you’ll become a peasant, a real peasant, and we’ll have a colt. Wouldn’t you like that? Tell me, do you know Kalganov?”

“Yes, I do.”

“He always goes around dreaming. He says: ‘Why bother to live when it’s much better to dream. It’s always possible to dream up interesting things, while living is such a bore.’ He says that, yet he’ll get married soon. He even made a declaration of love to me. Do you know how to spin a top?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s just like a top: he could be wound up and set off and then all you’d have to do would be to keep whipping him. I may marry him and keep setting him off and whipping him all my life. Don’t you feel ashamed to be sitting here with me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I know you’re furious with me because I won’t talk to you about holy things. But I have no wish to be holy. What will they do, in the next world, to someone who has committed the greatest sin? I’m sure you know exactly what the penalty is.”

“God will punish you,” Alyosha said, watching her closely.

“And that’s just what I want: I’d like to get there and be punished. I’d just laugh in their faces! I terribly want to set the house on fire, this house, our house . . . Don’t you believe me?”

“Why shouldn’t I believe you? There are even twelve-year-olds who feel a strong desire to set something on fire and who actually do so. It’s some sort of sickness.”

“It’s not true. That’s not the same thing! They’re just children. That’s not what I’m trying to tell you.”

“You feel now that evil is good. This is just a momentary crisis. Perhaps it’s the result of your former illness.”

“I can see you still despise me. No, I simply don’t want to do good—I want to do evil. It has nothing to do with any illness.”

“But why do evil?”

“So that there should be nothing left anywhere. Ah, how nice it would be if there was nothing left! You know, I like to imagine sometimes that I’ve done a lot of evil, many, many horrible things, that I’ve worked at it quietly for a very long time, and then suddenly everybody finds out about it. They all crowd around me and point at me and I look back at them. That would be very pleasant. Why would it be so pleasant, Alyosha?”

“Just because you’d have satisfied your yearning to crush something that’s good. Or, if you prefer, it’s like setting fire to the house, as you told me yourself. That happens too.”

“But I wasn’t just saying that, you know. I’ll really do it.”

“I believe you.”

“I love you so much because of the way you say, ‘I believe you.’ And you’re not lying either . . . Unless you think I’ve told you all this just to tease you?”

“No, I don’t think that. Although . . . there may be a little of that in it too.”