Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Complete Novels & Stories (Wisehouse Classics). Fyodor DostoyevskyЧитать онлайн книгу.
Nainsky, le superbe, does l’antichambre to her. So I hatched a complete plan of future action on the way. And what do you think I built it all on? Why, on the fact that dogs always like me. Yes, really; I have noticed it. Either there’s some magnetism in me, or else it’s because I’m fond of all animals, I don’t know. Dogs do like me, anyway. And, by the way, talking of magnetism, I haven’t told you, Natasha, we called up spirits the other day; I was at a spiritualist’s. It’s awfully curious, Ivan Petrovitch; it really, impressed me. I called up Julius Caesar.”
“My goodness! What did you want with Julius Caesar?” cried Natasha, going off into a peal of laughter. “That’s the last straw!”
“Why not... as though I were such a... why shouldn’t I call up Julius Caesar? What does it matter to him? Now she’s laughing!”
“Of course it wouldn’t matter to him at all... oh, you dear! Well, what did Julius Caesar say to you?”
“Oh, he didn’t say anything. I simply held the pencil and the pencil moved over the paper and wrote of itself. They said it was Julius Caesar writing. I don’t believe in it.”
“But what did he write, then?”
“Why, he wrote something like the ‘dip it in’ in Gogol. Do leave oft laughing!”
“Oh, tell me about the princess, then.”
“Well, you keep interrupting me. We arrived at the princess’s and I began by making love to Mimi. Mimi is a most disgusting, horrid old dog, obstinate, too, and fond of biting. The princess dotes on her, she simply worships her, I believe they are the same age. I began by feeding Mimi with sweetmeats, and in about ten minutes I had taught her to shake hands, which they had never been able to teach her before. The princess was in a perfect ecstasy, she almost cried with joy.
“‘Mimi! Mimi! Mimi is shaking hands’
“Someone came in.
“‘Mimi shakes hands, my godson here has taught her.’
“Count Nainsky arrived.
“‘Mimi shakes hands!’
“She looked at me almost with tears of tenderness. She’s an awfully nice old lady; I feel quite sorry for her. I was on the spot then, I flattered her again. On her snuff-box she has her own portrait, painted when she was a bride, sixty years ago. Well, she dropped her snuffbox. I picked up the snuff-box and exclaimed:
“‘Quelle charmante peinture!’ just as if I didn’t know. ‘It’s an ideal beauty!’
“Well, that melted her completely. She talked to me of this and that; asked me where I had been studying, and whom I visit, and what splendid hair I had, and all that sort of thing. I made her laugh too. I told her a shocking story. She likes that sort of thing, She shook her finger at me, but she laughed a great deal. When she let me go, she kissed me and blessed me, and insisted I should go in every day to amuse her. The count pressed my hand; his eyes began to look oily. And as for father, though he’s the kindest, and sincerest, and most honourable man in the world, if you’ll believe me, he almost cried with joy on the way home. He hugged me, and became confidential, mysteriously confidential about a career, connexions, marriages, money; I couldn’t understand a lot of it. It was then he gave me the money. That was all yesterday. Tomorrow I’m to go to the princess’s again. But still, my father’s a very honourable man — don’t you imagine anything — and although he keeps me away from you, Natasha, it’s simply because he’s dazzled by Katya’s millions, and wants to get hold of them, and you haven’t any; and he wants them simply for my sake, and it’s merely through ignorance he is unjust to you. And what father doesn’t want his son’s happiness? It’s not his fault that he has been accustomed to think that happiness is to be found in millions. They’re all like that. One must look at him from that standpoint, you know, and no other, and then one can see at once that he’s right. I’ve hurried to come to you, Natasha, to assure you of that, for I know you’re prejudiced against him, and of course that’s not your fault. I don’t blame you for it... ..”
“Then all that’s happened is that you’ve made yourself a position at the princess’s. Is that all your cunning amounts to?” asked Natasha.
“Not at all. What do you mean? That’s only the beginning.
I only told you about the princess — because, you understand, through her I shall get a hold over my father; but my story hasn’t begun yet.”
“Well, tell it then!”
“I’ve had another adventure this morning, and a very strange one too. I haven’t got over it yet,” Alyosha went on. “You must observe that, although it’s all settled about our engagement between my father and the countess, there’s been no formal announcement so far, so we can break it off at any moment without a scandal. Count Nainsky’s the only person who knows it, but he’s looked upon as a relation and a benefactor. What’s more, though I’ve got to know Katya very well this last fortnight, till this very evening I’ve never said a word to her about the future, that is about marriage or... love. Besides, it’s been settled to begin by asking the consent of Princess K., from whom is expected all sorts of patronage and showers of gold. The world will say what she says. She has such connexions... And what they want more than anything is to push me forward in society. But it’s the countess, Katya’s stepmother, who insists most strongly on this arrangement. The point is that perhaps the princess so far won’t receive her because of her doings abroad, and if the princess won’t receive her, most likely nobody else will. So my engagement to Katya is a good chance for her. So the countess, who used to be against the engagement, was highly delighted at my success with the princess; but that’s beside the point. What matters is this. I saw something of Katerina Fyodorvna last year, but I was a boy then, and I didn’t understand things, and so I saw nothing in her then...”
“Simply you loved me more then,” Natasha broke in,” that’s why you saw nothing in her; and now...”
“Not, a word, Natasha!” cried Alyosha, hotly. “You are quite mistaken, and insulting me... I won’t even answer you; listen, and you’ll see... Ah, if only you knew Katya! If only you knew what a tender, clear, dove-like soul she is! But you will know. Only let me finish. A fortnight ago, when my father took me to see Katya as soon as they had arrived, I began to watch her intently. I noticed she watched me too. That roused my curiosity, to say nothing of my having a special intention of getting to know her, an intention I had had ever since I got that letter from my father that impressed me so much. I’m not going to say anything about her. I’m not going to praise her. I’ll only say one thing. She’s a striking contrast to all her circle. She has such an original nature, such a strong and truthful soul, so strong in its purity and truthfulness, that I’m simply a boy beside her, like a younger brother, though she is only seventeen. Another thing I noticed, there’s a great deal of sadness about her, as though she had some secret: she is not talkative; at home she’s almost always silent as though afraid to speak... She seems to be brooding over something. She seems to be afraid of my father. She doesn’t like her stepmother — I could see that; it’s the countess spreads the story that her stepdaughter is so fond of her, for some object of her own. That’s all false. Katya simply obeys her without question, and it seems as though there’s some agreement between them about it. Four days ago, after all my observations, I made up my mind to carry out my intention, and this evening I did. My plan was to tell Katya everything, to confess everything, get her on our side, and so put a stop to it all...”
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