Selected Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky — The Karamazov Brothers (Volume Two of Two Volume Novel)

The Karamazov Brothers
(Volume Two of Two Volume Novel)

Translated by
Julius Katzer

Series Editor
Roli Jain

About the Book

“Don’t worry about his decision,” she said with firm insistence to Alyosha. “He’s bound to come to it in one way or another; he’s certain to arrive at that solution; he’s got to make a getaway. That unfortunate man, that paragon of honour and conscience—no, not Dmitri Fyodorovich, but the other one, who is lying beyond that door, who has sacrificed himself for his brother’s sake,” Katerina added with flashing eyes, “told me of the entire escape plan a long time ago. You know, he has already made the contacts— I’ve told you something already— You see, it will probably be staged at the third prison stopover when the party of convicts is on the road to Siberia. Oh, it’s still a long way off. Ivan Fyodorovich has already been to see the man who will be in charge of the prisoners at the third stop. What we don’t yet know is who will be in charge of the convicts during the third stage, and that cannot be ascertained so far ahead. I may show you the entire plan in detail tomorrow; Ivan Fyodorovich left it with me on the eve of the trial, just in case— That was when—you remember—you found us quarrelling that evening; he was going down the stairs and, on seeing you, I made him return—remember? Do you know what we were quarrelling over at the time?”

“No, I don’t,” said Alyosha.

“Well, of course, he concealed it from you then: it was about the escape scheme. He had revealed its main features three days before, and it was then that we began and went on quarrelling for three days. It was because when he told me that, in case of his conviction, Dmitri Fyodorovich would flee abroad together with that creature, I suddenly grew furious—I can’t tell you why, because I don’t know myself— Oh, of course, over that creature and her fleeing abroad together with Dmitri!” Katerina Ivanovna suddenly exclaimed, her lips quivering with anger. “As soon as Ivan Fyodorovich saw that I was furious because of that creature, he immediately imagined that I was jealous of her and that therefore I still loved Dmitri. That was the reason for our first quarrel. I did not want to give any explanation and I could not ask for forgiveness; I resented such a man suspecting that I was still in love with that—And considering I myself had long before told him quite frankly that I did not love Dmitri and that I loved him alone! I was furious because of resentment over that creature. Three days later, on the evening you came, he brought me a sealed envelope and asked me to open it at once if anything happened to him. Oh, he fore-saw his illness! He revealed to me that the envelope contained the details of the escape and that, if he were to die or be taken dangerously ill, I should save Mitya on my own. He then left the money with me, almost ten thousand—the bonds the public prosecutor mentioned in his speech, after learning from someone that he had sent them to be exchanged. What struck me so forcibly at the time was that Ivan Fyodorovich, though still jealous of me and still convinced that I was in love with Mitya, should not have given up his idea of rescuing his brother, and entrusted me with the scheme to save him. Oh, that was a sacrifice! No, Alexei Fyodorovich, you will never be able to fully understand such a sacrifice. I felt like falling down at his feet in reverence, but then it suddenly occurred to me that he’d take it merely as an expression of my joy that Mitya would be saved (and he’d certainly have thought that!); so exasperated was I at the time at the mere possibility of such an unjust thought on his part that I got angry again and instead of kissing his feet, I made another scene! Oh, I’m so unfortunate! Such is my nature—my awful and unfortunate nature! Oh, you will see: I shall most certainly drive him to a point when, like Dmitri, he, too, will give me up for another woman he’ll find it easier to get on with, but then—oh, then I’ll be unable to bear it—I’ll kill myself! And when you entered that evening and I called out to you and told him to return, I was so enraged by the look of contempt and hatred he gave me that—you remember—I shouted to you that he, he alone had made me believe that his brother Dmitri was the murderer. I purposely said that slanderous thing about him to hurt him again, for he never, never assured me that his brother was a murderer. On the contrary, it was I, I who persuaded him. Oh, my wild rage was the cause of everything, everything! It was I, I who made that horrible scene at the trial.

He wanted to prove to me that he was an honourable man and, though I might love his brother, he would not ruin him out of jealousy and revenge. That’s why he appeared in court— I’m the cause of it all! I alone am to blame!”

Never before had Katya made such a confession to Alyosha, who felt that she had now reached that degree of intolerable suffering when even the proudest heart crushes its pride in anguish, and falls vanquished by grief. Oh, Alyosha knew still another terrible cause of her present agony, however much she had tried to conceal it from him all during those days since Mitya’s conviction; but for some reason it would have been extremely painful to him had she decided so to abase herself as to speak to him now about that, too. She was suffering over her “treachery” at the trial, and Alyosha felt that her conscience was urging her to make a clean breast of it to him, Alyosha, especially, with tears, screams, and hysterical writhings. But he dreaded that moment and wished to spare the sufferer. It made the message he had come to give her all the more difficult. He again spoke of Mitya.

“Have no fear at all for him!” Katerina went on, with brusque insistence, “with him, everything is a fleeting thing. I know him. I know that heart only too well. Rest assured he’ll agree to flee. The main thing is that it is not a matter of immediacy; there’ll be time yet for him to make up his mind. Ivan Fyodorovich will have recovered by that time and will take it in hand himself, so that I won’t have to do anything. Don’t worry; he’ll agree to flee. As a matter of fact, he has already agreed: can he give up that creature now? They won’t let her join him in Siberia, so what else can he do but get away? The main thing is that he’s afraid of you, afraid that, on moral grounds, you won’t approve of his escape! But you must magnanimously permit it, if,” Katerina added venomously, “your sanction is so essential.” She paused with a bitter smile.

“He goes on talking,” she began again, “about some hymns, some cross he has to bear, some duty of his. I remember Ivan Fyodorovich telling me a lot about it then, and if only you knew how he spoke about it!” Katerina suddenly exclaimed with irrepressible feeling. “If only you knew how he loved that wretched man at the moment he was telling me about him, and how he hated him, perhaps, at the very same time. And I—oh, I listened to his story and watched his tears with a haughty sneer. Oh, what a horrible creature! It is I, I who am that horrible creature! I have brought about his brain fever! But that one—the convicted man—is he ready to accept suffering? Can such as he suffer?” Katerina concluded irritably. “His kind never suffer.”