‘What gates of paradise?’
She took a glass. Alyosha picked his up, took a sip, and put it down.
‘No, better not!’ he smiled gently.
‘It was all talk, wasn’t it!’ exclaimed Rakitin.
‘In that case, I shan’t either,’ Grushenka joined in, ‘I don’t really feel like it anyway. Rakitin, you carry on, drink the whole bottle yourself. I’ll drink only if Alyosha does.’
‘What a touching little scene!’ jeered Rakitin. ‘Are you quite comfortable, sitting on his knees? Let’s face it, he’s grieving, but what’s your excuse? He’s rebelled against his God, he was going to tuck into my sausage…’
‘What?’
‘His starets has died, Starets Zosima, the saint.’
‘Starets Zosima has died!’ exclaimed Grushenka. ‘God, I didn’t know!’ She crossed herself devoutly. ‘My God, and here am I sitting on his knees!’ she started as though in panic, jumped up, and sat down on the sofa. Alyosha fixed her with a long look full of wonderment, and something appeared to light up in his face.
‘Rakitin,’ he suddenly pronounced in a loud and firm voice, ‘don’t mock me for rebelling against my God. I don’t want to bear a grudge against you, so try and understand how I feel. I’ve lost a treasure such as you’ve never had, so you’ve no right to judge me now. Look at her! Did you notice how she spared my feelings? When I came here I expected to find a wicked person—I was attracted to her because I am mean and wicked myself, but instead I found a true sister, a treasure—a loving soul… She spared me… I’m talking about you, Agrafena Aleksandrovna. You’ve uplifted my soul.’
Alyosha’s lips began to tremble, his chest constricted. He stopped talking.
‘“Uplifted your soul”, my foot!’ said Rakitin with a malicious laugh. ‘And she was ready to gobble you up, did you know that?’
‘Don’t, Rakitka!’ Grushenka suddenly leapt to her feet. ‘Shut up, both of you. Now I’ll tell you everything. You, Alyosha, keep quiet, because your words fill me with shame, because I’m evil, I’m no good—that’s the way I am. And you, Rakitka, hold your tongue, because you’re a liar. I did have this wicked thought of wanting to seduce him, but now you’re wrong, now everything has changed… and I don’t want another sound out of you, Rakitka!’ Grushenka said all this in a state of great agitation.
‘Look at the two of them, they’re completely out of their minds!’ hissed Rakitin, eyeing them both in astonishment. ‘You’re mad! Have I wandered into an asylum or something? You’ve gone soft in the head, both of you, all we need is for the pair of you to burst into tears!’
‘And I’m going to cry, I am!’ Grushenka continued. ‘He called me his sister just now, and I’ll never forget that as long as I live! Only remember this, Rakitka, I may be evil, but I did offer to give someone a spring onion once.’
‘What are you talking about—an onion? Hell, they really have gone batty!’
Rakitin was surprised to see them so elated and continued to sulk, although he should have realized that for both of them everything that could shake them to the core spiritually had coalesced, which is something that occurs only rarely in life. But Rakitin, though highly sensitive as regards everything relating to himself, was most unobservant when it came to gauging the feelings and sentiments of those close to him—this was partly due to his youth and inexperience, but mostly to his colossal egoism.
‘You see, Alyoshechka,’ Grushenka turned to him with a sudden burst of nervous laughter, ‘I was boasting when I told Rakitka that I’d offered someone an onion, but I’ll tell you about it for a different reason. It’s only a fable,* but a good one; I heard it when I was still a child from Matrena, who now works for me as a cook. How does it go? Once upon a time there lived a horrid woman who was as wicked as could be, and she died. And she hadn’t done a good deed in her life. The devils grabbed her and threw her into a burning lake. Her guardian angel was looking on and thought to himself: “What good deed can I possibly recall to tell God about?” He remembered one, and said to God: “She once”, he said, “picked a spring onion from her garden and gave it to a beggar woman.” And God answered him: “Why don’t you”, he said, “take this same onion, hold it out to her in the lake, and let her grab it and hold tight, and if you manage to pull her out of the lake, may she go to heaven, but if the onion breaks, may the old woman remain there.” The angel ran off to the woman and held out the onion to her: “There you are, old woman,” he said, “grab this and hold tight.” And he began to pull her out ever so carefully, and he had almost pulled her out when the other sinners in the lake, seeing that she was being rescued, began to cling to her so that they too might be pulled out. But the woman was as wicked as can be, and she began to lash out with her feet: “He’s pulling me out, not you, it’s my onion, not yours.” No sooner had she said this, than the onion snapped. And the woman fell back into the lake, where she’s burning to this very day. And the angel burst into tears and left. There’s the fable for you, I’ve remembered every word of it, because that wicked woman is me. I boasted to Rakitka that I’d offered someone an onion, but to you I’ll put it another way: an onion is all I’ve ever given anyone in my life, that’s all the charity there is in me. So don’t think too highly of me because of it, Alyosha, don’t think I’m good, I’m evil and wicked as can be, and if you go on praising me you’ll only make me more ashamed. Well then, I’d better make a clean breast of it. Listen, Alyosha, I was so eager to entice you here, and I pestered Rakitka so much, that I promised him twenty-five roubles if he brought you to me. Stay there, Rakitka, wait!’ She walked quickly over to the table, pulled out a drawer, took out a wallet, and produced a twenty-five-rouble note.
‘What nonsense! What utter nonsense!’ Rakitin repeated, squirming with embarrassment.
‘Take it, Rakitka, my debt, I don’t suppose you’ll refuse it, it was you who asked for it.’ And she flung the banknote at him.
‘Why refuse it?’ grunted Rakitin, visibly embarrassed, but putting a brave face on it. ‘This’ll come in very handy, that’s what fools are for, to profit the wise.’
‘And now just keep quiet, Rakitka; the rest of what I’m going to say is not for your ears. Sit down there in the corner and keep quiet. You don’t like us, so just shut up.’
‘There’s not much to like about you!’ Rakitin snapped back, no longer making any attempt to conceal his anger. He put the twenty-five-rouble note in his pocket, but he was thoroughly embarrassed in front of Alyosha. He had expected to be paid later, so that the latter would not find out, and now his shame made him furious. Up to this moment he had found it expedient not to contradict Grushenka too much, however much she taunted him; she obviously had some kind of power over him. But now he was really incensed.
‘One likes people for what they’ve done, but what have you two ever done for me?’
‘You shouldn’t need reasons for liking people; Alyosha doesn’t.’
‘You think Alyosha likes you! And what’s he got that sends you into raptures?’
‘Hold your tongue, Rakitka!’ Grushenka was standing in the middle of the room, speaking animatedly, with a note of hysteria in her voice. ‘You don’t know a thing about us! Don’t you dare be so familiar! Show a bit of respect! What makes you think you can speak to me like that! Go into the corner, sit still, and don’t say a word, you should know your place. And now, Alyosha, I’ll tell you the whole gospel truth, to you alone, so that you will see the sort of creature I am! It’s for your ears alone, not for Rakitka. I was going to seduce you, Alyosha, that’s the honest truth, I was fully determined to. I wanted to do it so much that I bribed Rakitka to bring you here. And why should I have wanted to do it so much? You didn’t suspect a thing, Alyosha, you kept turning away from me, you used to lower your eyes when you passed by, but I had looked at you a hundred times before I started questioning everyone about you. Your face haunted me: “He hates me,” I thought, “he doesn’t even want to look at me.” In the end I was surpr
ised at the state I had got myself into: why should I be scared of such a boy? I could eat two of him for dinner. I was really furious. Don’t forget, no man here would dare to say or even imagine that he could just drop in on Agrafena Aleksandrovna for his pleasure; the old man’s another matter, I’m tied body and soul to him; it was a marriage made in hell—Satan himself gave us his blessing. So looking at you, I said to myself: “I’ll devour him. I’ll gobble him up and lick my lips.” You see what a wicked bitch I am, and you called me your sister! But my seducer’s arrived, and I have to sit and wait for his message. You’ve no idea what that rat meant to me! It was five years ago that Kuzma brought me here—there I was, sitting alone, hiding from people, just wanting to slink into a corner and stay there; I was skinny, silly, crying my eyes out, couldn’t sleep for nights on end, thinking: “Where’s that rat now, where is he? Probably laughing about me with some other woman. Just let me get my hands on him…” and I’d think: “If only I could see him, meet him, I’d get my own back, I would!” I used to cry into my pillow all night long, turning things over in my mind, deliberately torturing myself and trying to console myself in my rage. “I’ll get my own back, I will.” There’d be times I’d suddenly scream in the dark. But then it would suddenly hit me that I wouldn’t really do anything to him, and he was probably laughing at me at that very moment, or perhaps he’d even forgotten me altogether, and I’d fall out of bed on to the floor, crying my heart out with helpless tears, and sobbing till daybreak. In the morning I’d get up like a mad bitch, ready to tear the world apart. Then, you know what, I started saving money. I became ruthless, grew fat—you’d think I would have become wiser, wouldn’t you? Not so… no one, no one in the whole universe knew that in the darkness of the night I’d lie on the sofa, grinding my teeth, as I used to five years before when I was still a girl: “I’ll show him, I’ll show him,” I thought. Do you hear what I say? So, what do you think of me now? Then suddenly, a month ago, this letter arrived: he’s coming, he’s a widower now, he wants to see me. Oh God! I nearly choked, and the thought occurred to me: “He’ll come and whistle, he’ll beckon me, and I’ll creep back to him like a beaten cur, with my tail between my legs!” That’s what I thought, but I could hardly believe it: “This’ll show what I’m made of, will I run to him or not?” And I’ve been so angry with myself for the whole of this past month that it’s been even worse than five years ago. Now do you see, Alyosha, how vicious, how violent I am, I’ve told you the whole truth! I’m only playing around with Mitya so as to stop myself running to that one. Shut up, Rakitka, you’ve no right to judge me, I’m not talking to you. I was lying here before you arrived, waiting, thinking, my whole fate in the balance, and you’ll never know what went on in my mind. Look, Alyosha, tell that young lady of yours not to be angry about what happened the other day!… Nobody in the whole world knows how I feel now, and how can they?… Because I might even take a knife with me when I go there… I still haven’t made up my mind…’
And as she uttered these words of anguish, Grushenka suddenly could bear it no longer; she stopped, buried her face in her hands, threw herself on to the pillows on the sofa, and burst into tears like a small child. Alyosha got up and approached Rakitin.
‘Misha,’ he said, ‘don’t be angry. She has offended you, but don’t be angry. You heard what she said. We shouldn’t ask too much from a human soul, we should have more compassion…’
Alyosha spoke in a torrent of uncontrollable emotions. He needed to pour his heart out, and he turned to Rakitin. If Rakitin had not been there, he would have continued to expostulate anyway. But Rakitin was looking at him derisively, and Alyosha did not finish.
‘You’re so full of that starets of yours, you want to try his medicine out on me, Alyoshechka, your holiness,’ Rakitin said with a malicious grin.
‘Don’t laugh, Rakitin, don’t snigger, don’t even mention his name—he was holier than anyone on this earth!’ Alyosha was on the verge of tears. ‘I’m not setting myself up as a judge over you, I’m speaking as the lowliest of defendants. Who am I compared to her? I came here to lose my soul, and I kept saying: “Well, why not?” and all because of my moral cowardice; but she, after five years of suffering, as soon as the first person came along and spoke a sincere word to her, forgave and forgot everything and now she’s weeping! Her seducer has returned, he’s calling her, and she’s ready to forgive him everything and eagerly rush back to him, and she won’t take a knife with her, she won’t! Well, I’m not like that. I don’t know if you are, Misha, but I’m not! Today was a lesson for me… She’s nobler than us in her love… Have you ever heard her tell anyone what she has just told us? No, you haven’t; if you had, you’d have forgiven her everything long ago… And as for that woman she offended the other day, she should forgive her, too! And, you know, she’ll forgive if she finds out… and she will find out… Grushenka’s soul is not yet at peace, she should be pitied… there may still be treasure in that soul…’
Alyosha stopped, completely overcome. In spite of his anger, Rakitin looked at him in astonishment. He would never have expected such a tirade from the placid Alyosha.
‘What an advocate we have here! Have you fallen in love with her, or something? Agrafena Aleksandrovna, our recluse, has really fallen in love with you, you’ve won!’ he exclaimed with impudent laughter.
Grushenka raised her head from the pillow, and looked at Alyosha with a tender smile that suddenly lit up her swollen, tear-stained face.
‘Leave him alone; Alyosha, my cherub, you see what he’s like, there’s no use talking to him. Mikhail Osipovich,’ she turned to Rakitin, ‘I was about to apologize for having been nasty to you, but I don’t feel inclined to now. Alyosha, come to me, come and sit here,’ she beckoned to him with a happy smile, ‘that’s right, sit here; tell me,’ she took his hand and peered into his face, smiling, ‘you tell me, do I love that man or not? The man who seduced me, I mean, do I love him or not? I was lying here in the dark before you came, searching my heart: do I love that man or not? You decide for me, Alyosha, the time has come; whatever you say shall be. Am I to forgive him or not?’
‘But you’ve already forgiven him,’ Alyosha said with a smile.
‘I suppose I have,’ Grushenka said pensively. ‘There’s a cowardly heart for you! To my cowardly heart!’ She suddenly snatched a glass from the table, drained it in one gulp, raised it up, and smashed it on the floor. The glass shattered. There was a suggestion of cruelty in her smile.
‘But perhaps I haven’t forgiven him after all,’ she said menacingly, staring at the floor, as though talking to herself. ‘Perhaps I’m just beginning to feel forgiveness in my heart. I’ll still have to get the better of my feelings, though. You see, Alyosha, I’ve grown awfully fond of my tears in the last five years… Maybe it’s my unhappiness I’ve fallen in love with, not him!’
‘Well, I’d hate to be in his shoes!’ Rakitin hissed.
‘Nor will you, Rakitka, you’ll never be in his shoes. I’ll turn you into my cobbler instead, Rakitka. There’s a job for you, and you’ll never find anyone else like me… Nor will he, I dare say…’
‘Oh, yes? And why are you dressed up to the nines?’ Rakitin jeered maliciously.
‘And you needn’t be spiteful about my getting dressed up, Rakitka, you don’t know how I feel! I could discard all this finery right now if I wanted to,’ she cried out sharply. ‘You don’t know what this finery’s for, Rakitka! Maybe I’ll go up to him and say: “Have you ever seen me like this?” Do you realize that I was a thin, consumptive, seventeen-year-old cry-baby when he left me. What if I snuggle up to him, excite him, inflame him: “See what I’m like now,” I’ll say to him, “and that’s as far as you’ll get, my dear sir, and no further… put that in your pipe and smoke it!” Perhaps that’s what this finery’s for, Rakitka,’ Grushenka ended with a malicious little laugh. ‘I’m violent, Alyosha, I’m vicious. I’ll rip off this finery, I’ll mutilate myself, destroy my beauty, I’ll burn my
face with acid, I’ll slash it with a knife, and go begging for alms. If I don’t want to, I won’t go anywhere, to anyone; but if I choose—I’ll give Kuzma back everything he gave me, all his money, tomorrow, and I’ll go out to work for the rest of my life!… You think I won’t do it, Rakitka, that I wouldn’t dare? I will, I will, I can do it right now, don’t you provoke me… and as for him, I’ll send him packing with a flea in his ear, and not so much as a glimpse of me!’
She shouted these last words hysterically and broke down again, hid her face in her hands, and collapsed on to the pillow again, convulsed with sobs. Rakitin stood up.
‘Time to go,’ he said, ‘it’s getting late, they won’t let us into the monastery.’
Grushenka leapt to her feet.
‘You’re not going too, Alyosha, are you!’ she exclaimed in desperate alarm. ‘You can’t do that to me now, not after the excitement and pain you’ve caused me, you can’t let me face another night on my own again!’
‘You don’t expect him to spend the night here with you, do you? But if that’s what he wants—let him! I’ll find my own way back!’ Rakitin said sarcastically.
‘Shut up, you foul little man,’ Grushenka flared up, ‘you could never say what he’s said to me.’
‘What did he say to you?’ grunted Rakitin irritably.
‘I don’t know. I’ve no idea. I’ve no idea at all what he said to me. He spoke to my heart. He pierced my heart… He was the first to pity me, the one and only, that’s what! Why didn’t you come to me before, my cherub? She fell on her knees before Alyosha, like someone in a frenzy. ‘All my life I’ve been waiting for someone like you, I knew someone like you would come along and forgive me. I held on to the belief that, despite the fact that I’m a slut, someone would love me, and not just want me for my body!…’
‘What have I done for you?’ replied Alyosha, bending over her with a tender smile and gently holding her hands. ‘I offered you an onion, one tiny little onion, that and no more!…’
The Karamazov Brothers Page 55