"But Katerina Ivanovna!" exclaimed Alyosha sorrowfully.
"I see her, too! I see right through her, as I’ve never done before! It’s a regular discovery of the four continents of the world, that is, of the five! What a thing to do! That’s just like Katya, who was not afraid to face a coarse, unmannerly officer and risk a deadly insult on a generous impulse to save her father! But the pride, the recklessness, the defiance of fate, the unbounded defiance! You say that aunt tried to stop her? That aunt, you know, is overbearing, herself. She’s the sister of the general’s widow in Moscow, and even more stuck–up than she. But her husband was caught stealing government money. He lost everything, his estate and all, and the proud wife had to lower her colors, and hasn’t raised them since. So she tried to prevent Katya, but she wouldn’t listen to her! She thinks she can overcome everything, that everything will give way to her. She thought she could bewitch Grushenka if she liked, and she believed it herself: she plays a part to herself, and whose fault is it? Do you think she kissed Grushenka’s hand first, on purpose, with a motive? No, she really was fascinated by Grushenka, that’s to say, not by Grushenka, but by her own dream, her own delusion—because it was her dream, her delusion! Alyosha, darling, how did you escape from them, those women? Did you pick up your cassock and run? Ha ha ha!"
"Brother, you don’t seem to have noticed how you’ve 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 Ivanovna’s 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 Ivanovna’s 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 Katya’s image, and Grushenka understood it. She understood it all then. I remember, she cried herself… Damn it all! But it’s bound to be so now… Then she cried, but now ?the dagger in the heart’! That’s 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 doesn’t matter whether I cried or not, I’m a scoundrel! Tell her I accept the name, if that’s any comfort. Come, that’s enough. Good–by. It’s no use talking! It’s not amusing. You go your way and I mine. And I don’t want to see you again except as a last resource. Good–by, Alexey!"
He warmly pressed Alyosha’s 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, here—there’s 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 I’ve 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 I’m 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 shan’t stop it. I told you everything just now, but I didn’t 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 to–morrow. But I shan’t 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. You’ll find out in due time. The filthy back–alley and the she–devil. Good–by. Don’t pray for me, I’m not worth it. And there’s no need, no need at all… I don’t need it! Away!"
