The Brothers Karamazov полностью

“Czym moge sluzyc panu (What can I do for the pan)?” the little pan prattled.

“Here’s what, panie, I won’t waste words: take this money,” he pulled out his bank notes, “if you want three thousand, take it and go wherever you like. “

The pan acquired a keen look, he was all eyes, he fixed his gaze on Mitya’s face.

“Trzy tysiace, panie (Three thousand, panie) ?” he exchanged glances with Vrublevsky.

“Trzy, panowie, trzy! Listen, panie, I see you’re a reasonable man. Take three thousand and go to the devil, and don’t forget Vrublevsky—do you hear? But now, this minute, and forever, do you understand, panie, you’ll walk out this door forever. What have you got in there—an overcoat, a fur coat? I’ll bring it out to you. The troika will be harnessed for you this very moment and—good-bye, panie! Eh?”

Mitya waited confidently for an answer. He had no doubts. Something extremely resolute flashed in the pan’s face. “And the roubles, panie?”

“We’ll do it this way, panie: I’ll give you five hundred roubles right now, for the coachman and as a first installment, and two thousand five hundred will come tomorrow in town—I swear on my honor, I’ll dig it up somewhere!” Mitya cried.

The Poles exchanged glances again. The pan’s expression took a turn for the worse.

“Seven hundred, seven hundred, not five, right now, this minute, in your hands!” Mitya upped his offer, sensing that things were not going well. “What’s the matter, pan? You don’t believe me? I’m not going to give you all three thousand at once. I’d give it to you, and you’d go back to her tomorrow ... And I don’t have the whole three thousand with me, I have it at home, in town,” Mitya babbled weakly, losing heart with each word, “by God, I have it, hidden ...”

In an instant a sense of extraordinary dignity shone on the little pan’s face.

“Czy nie potrzebujesz jeszcze czego (Is there anything else you’d like) ?” he asked ironically. “Pfui! Ah, pfui (Shame on you)!” And he spat. Pan Vrublevsky also spat.

“You spit, panie, because,” Mitya spoke as one in despair, realizing that all was over, “because you hope to get more from Grushenka. You’re a couple of capons, that’s what!”

“Jestem do zywego dotkniety (That is a mortal insult)!” the little pan suddenly turned red as a lobster, and briskly, in terrible indignation, as though unwilling to listen any longer, walked out of the room. Vrublevsky went swinging after him, and Mitya, confused and at a loss, followed them out. He was afraid of Grushenka, he anticipated that the pan would now make an uproar. And that, indeed, is what happened. The pan walked into the room and stood theatrically before Grushenka.

“Pani Agrippina, jestem do zywego dotkniety!” he began exclaiming, but Grushenka suddenly seemed to lose all patience, as if she had been touched on her sorest spot.

“Russian, speak Russian, not a word of Polish!” she shouted at him. “You used to speak Russian, did you forget it in five years?” She was all flushed with anger.

“Pani Agrippina ...”

“I am Agrafena, I am Grushenka, speak Russian or I won’t listen to you!” The pan was panting with gonor, and in broken Russian quickly and pompously declared:

“Pani Agrafena, I came to forget the past and to forgive it, to forget what has happened until today ...” “Forgive? You mean you came to forgive me?” Grushenka interrupted and jumped up from her seat.

“Just so, pani, I am not pusillanimous, I am magnanimous. But I was surprised when I saw your lovers. Pan Mitya, in the other room, offered me three thousand to depart. I spat in the pan’s face.”

“What? He offered you money for me?” Grushenka cried hysterically. “Is it true, Mitya? How dare you! Am I for sale?”

“Panie, panie,” Mitya cried out, “she is pure, she is shining, and I have never been her lover! It’s a lie...”

“How dare you defend me to him,” Grushenka went on shouting. “I have been pure not out of virtue, and not from fear of Kuzma, but in order to stand proudly before him and have the right to call him a scoundrel when I met him. But did he really not take your money?”

“He was, he was taking it!” Mitya exclaimed. “Only he wanted all three thousand at once, and I offered him just seven hundred down.”

“But of course: he heard I had money, so he came to marry me!”

“Pani Agrippina,” cried the pan, “I am a knight, a nobleman, not a lajdak. I arrived to take you for my wife, but I see a new pani, not as she was before, but wanton and shameless.”