Brothers -- Fiction; Didactic fiction; Fathers and sons -- Fiction; Russia -- Social life and customs -- 1533-1917 -- Fiction
It was not much more than three-quarters of a mile from the town to the
monastery. Alyosha walked quickly along the road, at that hour
deserted. It was almost night, and too dark to see anything clearly at
thirty paces ahead. There were cross-roads half-way. A figure came into
sight under a solitary willow at the cross-roads. As soon as Alyosha
reached the cross-roads the figure moved out and rushed at him,
shouting savagely:
“Your money or your life!”
“So it’s you, Mitya,” cried Alyosha, in surprise, violently startled
however.
“Ha ha ha! You didn’t expect me? I wondered where to wait for you. By
her house? There are three ways from it, and I might have missed you.
At last I thought of waiting here, for you had to pass here, there’s no
other way to the monastery. Come, tell me the truth. Crush me like a
beetle. But what’s the matter?”
“Nothing, brother—it’s the fright you gave me. Oh, Dmitri! Father’s
blood just now.” (Alyosha began to cry, he had been on the verge of
tears for a long time, and now something seemed to snap in his soul.)
“You almost killed him—cursed him—and now—here—you’re making
jokes—‘Your money or your life!’”
“Well, what of that? It’s not seemly—is that it? Not suitable in my
position?”
“No—I only—”
“Stay. Look at the night. You see what a dark night, what clouds, what
a wind has risen. I hid here under the willow waiting for you. And as
God’s above, I suddenly thought, why go on in misery any longer, what
is there to wait for? Here I have a willow, a handkerchief, a shirt, I
can twist them into a rope in a minute, and braces besides, and why go
on burdening the earth, dishonoring it with my vile presence? And then
I heard you coming—Heavens, it was as though something flew down to me
suddenly. So there is a man, then, whom I love. Here he is, that man,
my dear little brother, whom I love more than any one in the world, the
only one I love in the world. And I loved you so much, so much at that
moment that I thought, ‘I’ll fall on his neck at once.’ Then a stupid
idea struck me, to have a joke with you and scare you. I shouted, like
a fool, ‘Your money!’ Forgive my foolery—it was only nonsense, and
there’s nothing unseemly in my soul.... Damn it all, tell me what’s
happened. What did she say? Strike me, crush me, don’t spare me! Was
she furious?”
“No, not that.... There was nothing like that, Mitya. There—I found
them both there.”
“Both? Whom?”
“Grushenka at Katerina Ivanovna’s.”
Dmitri was struck dumb.
“Impossible!” he cried. “You’re raving! Grushenka with her?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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