Brother, you dont seem to have noticed how youve insulted Katerina Ivanovna by telling Grushenka about that day. And she flung it in her face just now that she had gone to gentlemen in secret to sell her beauty! Brother, what could be worse than that insult?
What worried Alyosha more than anything was that, incredible as it seemed, his brother appeared pleased at Katerina Ivanovnas humiliation.
Bah! Dmitri frowned fiercely, and struck his forehead with his hand. He only now realized it, though Alyosha had just told him of the insult, and Katerina Ivanovnas cry: Your brother is a scoundrel!
Yes, perhaps, I really did tell Grushenka about that fatal day, as Katya calls it. Yes, I did tell her, I remember! It was that time at Mokroe. I was drunk, the gypsies were singing. But I was sobbing. I was sobbing then, kneeling and praying to Katyas image, and Grushenka understood it. She understood it all then. I remember, she cried herself. Damn it all! But its bound to be so now. Then she cried, but now the dagger in the heart! Thats how women are.
He looked down and sank into thought.
Yes, I am a scoundrel, a thorough scoundrel! he said suddenly, in a gloomy voice. It doesnt matter whether I cried or not, Im a scoundrel! Tell her I accept the name, if thats any comfort. Come, thats enough. Goodby. Its no use talking! Its not amusing. You go your way and I mine. And I dont want to see you again except as a last resource. Goodby, Alexey!
He warmly pressed Alyoshas hand, and still looking down, without raising his head, as though tearing himself away, turned rapidly towards the town.
Alyosha looked after him, unable to believe he would go away so abruptly.
Stay, Alexey, one more confession to you alone! cried Dmitri, suddenly turning back. Look at me. Look at me well. You see here, heretheres terrible disgrace in store for me. (As he said here, Dmitri struck his chest with his fist with a strange air, as though the dishonor lay precisely on his chest, in some spot, in a pocket, perhaps, or hanging round his neck.) You know me now, a scoundrel, an avowed scoundrel, but let me tell you that Ive never done anything before and never shall again, anything that can compare in baseness with the dishonor which I bear now at this very minute on my breast, here, here, which will come to pass, though Im perfectly free to stop it. I can stop it or carry it through, note that. Well, let me tell you, I shall carry it through. I shant stop it. I told you everything just now, but I didnt tell you this, because even I had not brass enough for it. I can still pull up; if I do, I can give back the full half of my lost honor tomorrow. But I shant pull up. I shall carry out my base plan, and you can bear witness that I told you so beforehand. Darkness and destruction! No need to explain. Youll find out in due time. The filthy backalley and the shedevil. Goodby. Dont pray for me, Im not worth it. And theres no need, no need at all. I dont need it! Away!
And he suddenly retreated, this time finally. Alyosha went towards the monastery.
What? I shall never see him again! What is he saying? he wondered wildly. Why, I shall certainly see him tomorrow. I shall look him up. I shall make a point of it. What does he mean?
He went round the monastery, and crossed the pinewood to the hermitage. The door was opened to him, though no one was admitted at that hour. There was a tremor in his heart as he went into Father Zossimas cell.
Why, why, had he gone forth? Why had he sent him into the world? Here was peace. Here was holiness. But there was confusion, there was darkness in which one lost ones way and went astray at once.
In the cell he found the novice Porfiry and Father Païssy, who came every hour to inquire after Father Zossima. Alyosha learnt with alarm that he was getting worse and worse. Even his usual discourse with the brothers could not take place that day. As a rule every evening after service the monks flocked into Father Zossimas cell, and all confessed aloud their sins of the day, their sinful thoughts and temptations; even their disputes, if there had been any. Some confessed kneeling. The elder absolved, reconciled, exhorted, imposed penance, blessed, and dismissed them. It was against this general confession that the opponents of elders protested, maintaining that it was a profanation of the sacrament of confession, almost a sacrilege, though this was quite a different thing. They even represented to the diocesan authorities that such confessions attained no good object, but actually to a large extent led to sin and temptation. Many of the brothers disliked going to the elder, and went against their own will because every one went, and for fear they should be accused of pride and rebellious ideas. People said that some of the monks agreed beforehand, saying, Ill confess I lost my temper with you this morning, and you confirm it, simply in order to have something to say. Alyosha knew that this actually happened sometimes. He knew, too, that there were among the monks some who deeply resented the fact that letters from relations were habitually taken to the elder, to be opened and read by him before those to whom they were addressed.
It was assumed, of course, that all this was done freely, and in good faith, by way of voluntary submission and salutary guidance. But, in fact, there was sometimes no little insincerity, and much that was false and strained in this practice. Yet the older and more experienced of the monks adhered to their opinion, arguing that for those who have come within these walls sincerely seeking salvation, such obedience and sacrifice will certainly be salutary and of great benefit; those, on the other hand, who find it irksome, and repine, are no true monks, and have made a mistake in entering the monasterytheir proper place is in the world. Even in the temple one cannot be safe from sin and the devil. So it was no good taking it too much into account.
He is weaker, a drowsiness has come over him, Father Païssy whispered to Alyosha, as he blessed him. Its difficult to rouse him. And he must not be roused. He waked up for five minutes, sent his blessing to the brothers, and begged their prayers for him at night. He intends to take the sacrament again in the morning. He remembered you, Alexey. He asked whether you had gone away, and was told that you were in the town. I blessed him for that work, he said, his place is there, not here, for awhile. Those were his words about you. He remembered you lovingly, with anxiety; do you understand how he honored you? But how is it that he has decided that you shall spend some time in the world? He must have foreseen something in your destiny! Understand, Alexey, that if you return to the world, it must be to do the duty laid upon you by your elder, and not for frivolous vanity and worldly pleasures.
Father Païssy went out. Alyosha had no doubt that Father Zossima was dying, though he might live another day or two. Alyosha firmly and ardently resolved that in spite of his promises to his father, the Hohlakovs, and Katerina Ivanovna, he would not leave the monastery next day, but would remain with his elder to the end. His heart glowed with love, and he reproached himself bitterly for having been able for one instant to forget him whom he had left in the monastery on his deathbed, and whom he honored above every one in the world. He went into Father Zossimas bedroom, knelt down, and bowed to the ground before the elder, who slept quietly without stirring, with regular, hardly audible breathing and a peaceful face.
Alyosha returned to the other room, where Father Zossima had received his guests in the morning. Taking off his boots, he lay down on the hard, narrow, leathern sofa, which he had long used as a bed, bringing nothing but a pillow. The mattress, about which his father had shouted to him that morning, he had long forgotten to lie on. He took off his cassock, which he used as a covering. But before going to bed, he fell on his knees and prayed a long time. In his fervent prayer he did not beseech God to lighten his darkness but only thirsted for the joyous emotion, which always visited his soul after the praise and adoration, of which his evening prayer usually consisted. That joy always brought him light untroubled sleep. As he was praying, he suddenly felt in his pocket the little pink note the servant had handed him as he left Katerina Ivanovnas. He was disturbed, but finished his prayer. Then, after some hesitation, he opened the envelope. In it was a letter to him, signed by Lise, the young daughter of Madame Hohlakov, who had laughed at him before the elder in the morning.
Alexey Fyodorovitch, she wrote, I am writing to you without any ones knowledge, even mammas, and I know how wrong it is. But I cannot live without telling you the feeling that has sprung up in my heart, and this no one but us two must know for a time. But how am I to say what I want so much to tell you? Paper, they say, does not blush, but I assure you its not true and that its blushing just as I am now, all over. Dear Alyosha, I love you, Ive loved you from my childhood, since our Moscow days, when you were very different from what you are now, and I shall love you all my life. My heart has chosen you, to unite our lives, and pass them together till our old age. Of course, on condition that you will leave the monastery. As for our age we will wait for the time fixed by the law. By that time I shall certainly be quite strong, I shall be walking and dancing. There can be no doubt of that.
You see how Ive thought of everything. Theres only one thing I cant imagine: what youll think of me when you read this. Im always laughing and being naughty. I made you angry this morning, but I assure you before I took up my pen, I prayed before the Image of the Mother of God, and now Im praying, and almost crying.
My secret is in your hands. When you come tomorrow, I dont know how I shall look at you. Ah, Alexey Fyodorovitch, what if I cant restrain myself like a silly and laugh when I look at you as I did today. Youll think Im a nasty girl making fun of you, and you wont believe my letter. And so I beg you, dear one, if youve any pity for me, when you come tomorrow, dont look me straight in the face, for if I meet your eyes, it will be sure to make me laugh, especially as youll be in that long gown. I feel cold all over when I think of it, so when you come, dont look at me at all for a time, look at mamma or at the window.