The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoyevsky [children's books read aloud TXT] 📗

from the blow Dmitri

Fyodorovitch gave him on the head, he was suffering from aberration:

he went and committed the murder. As for his saying he didn’t, he very

likely doesn’t remember. Only, you know, it’ll be better, ever so much

better, if Dmitri Fyodorovitch murdered him. And that’s how it must

have been, though I say it was Grigory. It certainly was Dmitri

Fyodorovitch, and that’s better, ever so much better! Oh! not better

that a son should have killed his father, I don’t defend that.

Children ought to honour their parents, and yet it would be better

if it were he, as you’d have nothing to cry over then, for he did it

when he was unconscious or rather when he was conscious, but did not

know what he was doing. Let them acquit him-that’s so humane, and

would show what a blessing reformed law courts are. I knew nothing

about it, but they say they have been so a long time. And when I heard

it yesterday, I was so struck by it that I wanted to send for you at

once. And if he is acquitted, make him come straight from the law

courts to dinner with me, and I’ll have a party of friends, and

we’ll drink to the reformed law courts. I don’t believe he’d be

dangerous; besides, I’ll invite a great many friends, so that he could

always be led out if he did anything. And then he might be made a

justice of the peace or something in another town, for those who

have been in trouble themselves make the best judges. And, besides,

who isn’t suffering from aberration nowadays?- you, I, all of us,

are in a state of aberration, and there are ever so many examples of

it: a man sits singing a song, suddenly something annoys him, he takes

a pistol and shoots the first person he comes across, and no one

blames him for it. I read that lately, and all the doctors confirm it.

The doctors are always confirming; they confirm,- anything. Why, my

Lise is in a state of aberration. She made me cry again yesterday, and

the day before, too, and to-day I suddenly realised that it’s all

due to aberration. Oh, Lise grieves me so! I believe she’s quite

mad. Why did she send for you? Did she send for you or did you come of

yourself?”

 

“Yes, she sent for me, and I am just going to her.” Alyosha got up

resolutely.

 

“Oh, my dear, dear Alexey Fyodorovitch, perhaps that’s what’s most

important,” Madame Hohlakov cried, suddenly bursting into tears.

“God knows I trust Lise to you with all my heart, and it’s no matter

her sending for you on the sly, without telling her mother. But

forgive me, I can’t trust my daughter so easily to your brother Ivan

Fyodorovitch, though I still consider him the most chivalrous young

man. But only fancy, he’s been to see Lise and I knew nothing about

it!”

 

“How? What? When?” Alyosha was exceedingly surprised. He had not

sat down again and listened standing.

 

“I will tell you; that’s perhaps why I asked you to come, for I

don’t know now why I did ask you to come. Well, Ivan Fyodorovitch

has been to see me twice, since he came back from Moscow. First time

he came as a friend to call on me, and the second time Katya was

here and he came because he heard she was here. I didn’t, of course,

expect him to come often, knowing what a lot he has to do as it is,

vous comprenez, cette affaire et la mort terrible de votre papa.

(You know, this affair and your father’s terrible death.) But I

suddenly heard he’d been here again, not to see me but to see Lise.

That’s six days ago now. He came, stayed five minutes, and went

away. And I didn’t hear of it till three days afterwards, from

Glafira, so it was a great shock to me. I sent for Lise directly.

She laughed. ‘He thought you were asleep,’ she said, ‘and came in to

me to ask after your health.’ Of course, that’s how it happened. But

Lise, Lise, mercy on us, how she distresses me! Would you believe

it, one night, four days ago, just after you saw her last time, and

had gone away, she suddenly had a fit, screaming, shrieking,

hysterics! Why is it I never have hysterics? Then, next day another

fit, and the same thing on the third, and yesterday too, and then

yesterday that aberration. She suddenly screamed out, ‘I hate Ivan

Fyodorovitch. I insist on your never letting him come to the house

again.’ I was struck dumb at these amazing words, and answered, ‘On

what grounds could I refuse to see such an excellent young man, a

young man of such learning too, and so unfortunate?’- for all this

business is a misfortune, isn’t it?’ She suddenly burst out laughing

at my words, and so rudely, you know. Well, I was pleased; I thought I

had amused her and the fits would pass off, especially as I wanted

to refuse to see Ivan Fyodorovitch anyway on account of his strange

visits without my knowledge, and meant to ask him for an

explanation. But early this morning Lise waked up and flew into a

passion with Yulia and, would you believe it, slapped her in the face.

That’s monstrous; I am always polite to my servants. And an hour later

she was hugging Yulia’s feet and kissing them. She sent a message to

me that she wasn’t coming to me at all, and would never come and see

me again, and when I dragged myself down to her, she rushed to kiss

me, crying, and as she kissed me, she pushed me out of the room

without saying a word, so I couldn’t find out what was the matter.

Now, dear Alexey Fyodorovitch, I rest all my hopes on you, and, of

course, my whole life is in your hands. I simply beg you to go to Lise

and find out everything from her, as you alone can, and come back

and tell me-me, her mother, for you understand it will be the death

of me, simply the death of me, if this goes on, or else I shall run

away. I can stand no more. I have patience; but I may lose patience,

and then… then something awful will happen. Ah, dear me! At last,

Pyotr Ilyitch!” cried Madame Hohlakov, beaming all over as she saw

Perhotin enter the room. “You are late, you are late! Well, sit

down, speak, put us out of suspense. What does the counsel say.

Where are you off to, Alexey Fyodorovitch?”

 

“To Lise.”

 

“Oh, yes. You won’t forget, you won’t forget what I asked you?

It’s a question of life and death!

 

“Of course, I won’t forget, if I can… but I am so late,”

muttered Alyosha, beating a hasty retreat.

 

“No, be sure, be sure to come in; don’t say ‘If you can.’ I

shall die if you don’t,” Madame Hohlakov called after him, but Alyosha

had already left the room.