"I...I've not exactly thought it," muttered Alyosha, "but directly you began speaking so strangely, I fancied I had thought of it myself.""You see? (And how well you expressed it!) Looking at your father and your brother Mitya to-day you thought of a crime.Then I'm not mistaken?""But wait, wait a minute," Alyosha broke in uneasily, "What has led you to see all this? Why does it interest you? That's the first question.""Two questions, disconnected, but natural.I'll deal with them separately.What led me to see it? I shouldn't have seen it, if Ihadn't suddenly understood your brother Dmitri, seen right into the very heart of him all at once.I caught the whole man from one trait.These very honest but passionate people have a line which mustn't be crossed.If it were, he'd run at your father with a knife.But your father's a drunken and abandoned old sinner, who can never draw the line- if they both themselves go, they'll both come to grief.""No, Misha, no.If that's all, you've reassured me.It won't come to that.""But why are you trembling? Let me tell you; he may be honest, our Mitya (he is stupid, but honest), but he's- a sensualist.That's the very definition and inner essence of him.It's your father has handed him on his low sensuality.Do you know, I simply wonder at you, Alyosha, how you can have kept your purity.You're a Karamazov too, you know! In your family sensuality is carried to a disease.But now, these three sensualists are watching one another, with their knives in their belts.The three of them are knocking their heads together, and you may be the fourth.""You are mistaken about that woman.Dmitri despises her," said Alyosha, with a sort of shudder.
"Grushenka? No, brother, he doesn't despise her.Since he has openly abandoned his betrothed for her, he doesn't despise her.
There's something here, my dear boy, that you don't understand yet.
A man will fall in love with some beauty, with a woman's body, or even with a part of a woman's body (a sensualist can understand that), and he'll abandon his own children for her, sell his father and mother, and his country, Russia, too.If he's honest, he'll steal;if he's humane, he'll murder; if he's faithful, he'll deceive.
Pushkin, the poet of women's feet, sung of their feet in his verse.
Others don't sing their praises, but they can't look at their feet without a thrill- and it's not only their feet.Contempt's no help here, brother, even if he did despise Grushenka.He does, but he can't tear himself away.""I understand that," Alyosha jerked out suddenly.
"Really? Well, I dare say you do understand, since you blurt it out at the first word," said Rakitin, malignantly."That escaped you unawares, and the confession's the more precious.So it's a familiar subject; you've thought about it already, about sensuality, I mean!
Oh, you virgin soul! You're a quiet one, Alyosha, you're a saint, Iknow, but the devil only knows what you've thought about, and what you know already! You are pure, but you've been down into the depths....
I've been watching you a long time.You're a Karamazov yourself;you're a thorough Karamazov- no doubt birth and selection have something to answer for.You're a sensualist from your father, a crazy saint from your mother.Why do you tremble? Is it true, then? Do you know, Grushenka has been begging me to bring you along.'I'll pull off his cassock,' she says.You can't think how she keeps begging me to bring you.I wondered why she took such an interest in you.Do you know, she's an extraordinary woman, too!""Thank her and say I'm not coming," said Alyosha, with a strained smile."Finish what you were saying, Misha.I'll tell you.my idea after.""There's nothing to finish.It's all clear.It's the same old tune, brother.If even you are a sensualist at heart, what of your brother, Ivan? He's a Karamazov, too.What is at the root of all you Karamazovs is that you're all sensual, grasping and crazy! Your brother Ivan writes theological articles in joke, for some idiotic, unknown motive of his own, though he's an atheist, and he admits it's a fraud himself- that's your brother Ivan.He's trying to get Mitya's betrothed for himself, and I fancy he'll succeed, too.And what's more, it's with Mitya's consent.For Mitya will surrender his betrothed to him to be rid of her, and escape to Grushenka.And he's ready to do that in spite of all his nobility and disinterestedness.
Observe that.Those are the most fatal people! Who the devil can make you out? He recognises his vileness and goes on with it! Let me tell you, too, the old man, your father, is standing in Mitya's way now.He has suddenly gone crazy over Grushenka.His mouth waters at the sight of her.It's simply on her account he made that scene in the cell just now, simply because Miusov called her an 'abandoned creature.' He's worse than a tom-cat in love.At first she was only employed by him in connection with his taverns and in some other shady business, but now he has suddenly realised all she is and has gone wild about her.He keeps pestering her with his offers, not honourable ones, of course.And they'll come into collision, the precious father and son, on that path! But Grushenka favours neither of them, she's still playing with them, and teasing them both, considering which she can get most out of.For though she could filch a lot of money from the papa he wouldn't marry her, and maybe he'll turn stingy in the end, and keep his purse shut.That's where Mitya's value comes in; he has no money, but he's ready to marry her.Yes, ready to marry her! to abandon his betrothed, a rare beauty, Katerina Ivanovna, who's rich, and the daughter of a colonel, and to marry Grushenka, who has been the mistress of a dissolute old merchant, Samsonov, a coarse, uneducated, provincial mayor.Some murderous conflict may well come to pass from all this, and that's what your brother Ivan is waiting for.It would suit him down to the ground.
