"Is that really your conviction as to the consequences of the disappearance of the faith in immortality?" the elder asked Ivan suddenly.
"Yes.That was my contention.There is no virtue if there is no immortality.""You are blessed in believing that, or else most unhappy.""Why unhappy?" Ivan asked smiling.
"Because, in all probability you don't believe yourself in the immortality of your soul, nor in what you have written yourself in your article on Church Jurisdiction.""Perhaps you are right!...But I wasn't altogether joking," Ivan suddenly and strangely confessed, flushing quickly.
"You were not altogether joking.That's true.The question is still fretting your heart, and not answered.But the martyr likes sometimes to divert himself with his despair, as it were driven to it by despair itself.Meanwhile, in your despair, you, too, divert yourself with magazine articles, and discussions in society, though you don't believe your own arguments, and with an aching heart mock at them inwardly....That question you have not answered, and it is your great grief, for it clamours for an answer.""But can it be answered by me? Answered in the affirmative?"Ivan went on asking strangely, still looking at the elder with the same inexplicable smile.
"If it can't be decided in the affirmative, it will never be decided in the negative.You know that that is the peculiarity of your heart, and all its suffering is due to it.But thank the Creator who has given you a lofty heart capable of such suffering; of thinking and seeking higher things, for our dwelling is in the heavens.God grant that your heart will attain the answer on earth, and may God bless your path."The elder raised his hand and would have made the sign of the cross over Ivan from where he stood.But the latter rose from his seat, went up to him, received his blessing, and kissing his hand went back to his place in silence.His face looked firm and earnest.This action and all the preceding conversation, which was so surprising from Ivan, impressed everyone by its strangeness and a certain solemnity, so that all were silent for a moment, and there was a look almost of apprehension in Alyosha's face.But Miusov suddenly shrugged his shoulders.And at the same moment Fyodor Pavlovitch jumped up from his seat.
"Most pious and holy elder," he cried pointing to Ivan, "that is my son, flesh of my flesh, the dearest of my flesh! He is my most dutiful Karl Moor, so to speak, while this son who has just come in, Dmitri, against whom I am seeking justice from you, is the undutiful Franz Moor- they are both out of Schiller's Robbers, and so I am the reigning Count von Moor! Judge and save us! We need not only your prayers but your prophecies!""Speak without buffoonery, and don't begin by insulting the members of your family," answered the elder, in a faint, exhausted voice.He was obviously getting more and more fatigued, and his strength was failing.
"An unseemly farce which I foresaw when I came here!" cried Dmitri indignantly.He too leapt up."Forgive it, reverend Father," he added, addressing the elder."I am not a cultivated man, and I don't even know how to address you properly, but you have been deceived and you have been too good-natured in letting us meet here.All my father wants is a scandal.Why he wants it only he can tell.He always has some motive.But I believe I know why- ""They all blame me, all of them!" cried Fyodor Pavlovitch in his turn."Pyotr Alexandrovitch here blames me too.You have been blaming me, Pyotr Alexandrovitch, you have!" he turned suddenly to Miusov, although the latter was not dreaming of interrupting him.
"They all accuse me of having hidden the children's money in my boots, and cheated them, but isn't there a court of law? There they will reckon out for you, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, from your notes, your letters, and your agreements, how much money you had, how much you have spent, and how much you have left.Why does Pyotr Alexandrovitch refuse to pass judgment? Dmitri is not a stranger to him.Because they are all against me, while Dmitri Fyodorovitch is in debt to me, and not a little, but some thousands of which I have documentary proof.The whole town is echoing with his debaucheries.
And where he was stationed before, he several times spent a thousand or two for the seduction of some respectable girl; we know all about that, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, in its most secret details.I'll prove it....Would you believe it, holy Father, he has captivated the heart of the most honourable of young ladies of good family and fortune, daughter of a gallant colonel, formerly his superior officer, who had received many honours and had the Anna Order on his breast.He compromised the girl by his promise of marriage, now she is an orphan and here; she is betrothed to him, yet before her very eyes he is dancing attendance on a certain enchantress.And although this enchantress has lived in, so to speak, civil marriage with a respectable man, yet she is of an independent character, an unapproachable fortress for everybody, just like a legal wife- for she is virtuous, yes, holy Fathers, she is virtuous.Dmitri Fyodorovitch wants to open this fortress with a golden key, and that's why he is insolent to me now, trying to get money from me, though he has wasted thousands on this enchantress already.He's continually borrowing money for the purpose.From whom do you think? Shall Isay, Mitya?"
"Be silent!" cried Dmitri, "wait till I'm gone.Don't dare in my presence to asperse the good name of an honourable girl! That you should utter a word about her is an outrage, and I won't permit it!"He was breathless.
He was breathless."Mitya! Mitya!" cried Fyodor Pavlovitch hysterically, squeezing out a tear."And is your father's blessing nothing to you? If I curse you, what then?""Shameless hypocrite! "exclaimed Dmitri furiously.
