“I’m drunk! Drunk anyway ... drunk with you, and now I’m going to get drunk with wine.” He drank another glass and—he found it strange himself—only this last glass made him drunk, suddenly drunk, though until then he had been sober, he remembered that. From then on everything began whirling around him as in delirium. He walked, laughed, talked with everyone, all oblivious of himself, as it were. Only one fixed and burning feeling made itself known in him every moment, “like a hot coal in my heart,” as he recalled afterwards. He would go over to her, sit down by her, look at her, listen to her ... And she became terribly talkative, kept calling everyone to her, would suddenly beckon to some girl from the chorus, the girl would come over, and she would sometimes kiss her and let her go, or sometimes make the sign of the cross over her. Another minute and she would have been in tears. She was also greatly amused by the “little old fellow,” as she called Maximov. He ran up to her every other minute to kiss her hands, “and each little finger,” and in the end danced one more dance to an old song, which he sang himself. He danced with particular ardor to the refrain: The piggy goes oink, oink, oink,
The calfy goes moo, moo, moo,
The ducky goes quack, quack, quack
And the goosey goes goo, goo, goo.
Then little henny walks in the door,
Cluck, cluck, she says, and cluck once more,
Ai, ai, she clucked once more!’[265]
“Give him something, Mitya,” Grushenka said, “give him a present, he’s poor. Ah, the poor, the insulted...! You know, Mitya, I will go into a convent. No, really, someday I will. Alyosha said something to me today that I’ll never forget ... Yes ... But today let’s dance. Tomorrow the convent, but today we’ll dance. I want to be naughty, good people, what of it, God will forgive. If I were God I’d forgive all people: ‘My dear sinners, from now on I forgive you all.’ And I’ll go and ask forgiveness: ‘Forgive me, good people, I’m a foolish woman, that’s what.’ I’m a beast, that’s what. But I want to pray. I gave an onion. Wicked as I am, I want to pray! Mitya, let them dance, don’t interfere. Everyone in the world is good, every one of them. The world is a good place. We may be bad, but the world is a good place. We’re bad and good, both bad and good ... No, tell me, let me ask you, all of you come here and I’ll ask you; tell me this, all of you: why am I so good? I am good, I’m very good ... Tell me, then: why am I so good?” Thus Grushenka babbled on, getting more and more drunk, and finally declared outright that she now wanted to dance herself. She got up from her armchair and staggered. “Mitya, don’t give me any more wine, not even if I ask. Wine doesn’t bring peace. Everything is spinning, the stove and everything. I want to dance. Let everybody watch how I dance ... how well and wonderfully I dance ...”
The intention was serious: she took a white cambric handkerchief from her pocket and held it by one corner in her right hand, to wave while she danced. Mitya began bustling, the girls’ chorus fell silent, preparing to burst into a dancing song at the first signal. Maximov, learning that Grushenka herself was going to dance, squealed with delight and began hopping in front of her, singing:
Its legs are naught, its sides are taut, And its little tail’s all in a curl”[266]
I..
But Grushenka chased him away with a wave of her handkerchief.
“Shoo! Mitya, why aren’t they coming? Let everyone come ... to watch. Call them, too ... the locked-up ones ... What did you lock them up for? Tell them I’m dancing, let them watch me, too . . .” Mitya swept drunkenly to the locked door and began knocking for the
“Hey, you ... Podvysotskys! Come out, she’s going to dance, she’s calling you.”
“And you are a
“You should stop deriding Poland,” Kalganov, who had also drunk more than his fill, remarked sententiously.
“Quiet, boy! If I call him a scoundrel, it doesn’t mean I’m calling all of Poland a scoundrel.
“Ah, what people! As if they weren’t even human beings. Why won’t they make peace?” said Grushenka, and she stepped out to dance. The chorus broke into “Ah, hallway, my hallway!”[268] Grushenka threw back her head, half opened her lips, smiled, waved the handkerchief, and suddenly, swaying badly, stopped perplexed in the middle of the room.
“I feel weak ... ,” she said in a sort of exhausted voice. “Forgive me, I feel weak, I can’t ... I’m sorry...”
She bowed to the chorus, and then began bowing on all sides.
“I’m sorry ... Forgive me ...”
“She’s had a drop, the lady, the pretty lady’s had a drop,” voices were heard saying.
“She’s drunk,” Maximov explained, giggling, to the girls.
