"You put it on the table...yourself....Here it is.Had you forgotten? Money's like dirt or water to you, it seems.Here are your pistols.It's an odd thing, at six o'clock you pledged them for ten roubles, and now you've got thousands.Two or three I should say.""Three, you bet," laughed Mitya, stuffing the notes into the side-pocket of his trousers.
"You'll lose it like that.Have you found a gold mine?""The mines? The gold mines?" Mitya shouted at the top of his voice and went off into a roar of laughter."Would you like to go to the mines, Perhotin? There's a lady here who'll stump up three thousand for you, if only you'll go.She did it for me, she's so awfully fond of gold mines.Do you know Madame Hohlakov?""I don't know her, but I've heard of her and seen her.Did she really give you three thousand? Did she really?" said Pyotr Ilyitch, eyeing him dubiously.
"As soon as the sun rises to-morrow, as soon as Phoebus, ever young, flies upwards, praising and glorifying God, you go to her, this Madame Hohlakov, and ask her whether she did stump up that three thousand or not.Try and find out.""I don't know on what terms you are...since you say it so positively, I suppose she did give it to you.You've got the money in your hand, but instead of going to Siberia you're spending it all....Where are you really off to now, eh?""To Mokroe."
"To Mokroe? But it's night!"
"Once the lad had all, now the lad has naught," cried Mitya suddenly.
"How 'naught'? You say that with all those thousands!""I'm not talking about thousands.Damn thousands! I'm talking of female character.
Fickle is the heart of woman Treacherous and full of vice;I agree with Ulysses.That's what he says.""I don't understand you!"
"Am I drunk?"
"Not drunk, but worse."
"I'm drunk in spirit, Pyotr Ilyitch, drunk in spirit! But that's enough!""What are you doing, loading the pistol?""I'm loading the pistol."
Unfastening the pistol-case, Mitya actually opened the powder horn, and carefully sprinkled and rammed in the charge.Then he took the bullet and, before inserting it, held it in two fingers in front of the candle.
"Why are you looking at the bullet?" asked Pyotr Ilyitch, watching him with uneasy curiosity.
"Oh, a fancy.Why, if you meant to put that bullet in your brain, would you look at it or not?""Why look at it?"
"It's going into my brain, so it's interesting to look and see what it's like.But that's foolishness, a moment's foolishness.Now that's done," he added, putting in the bullet and driving it home with the ramrod."Pyotr Ilyitch, my dear fellow, that's nonsense, all nonsense, and if only you knew what nonsense! Give me a little piece of paper now.""Here's some paper."
"No, a clean new piece, writing-paper.That's right."And taking a pen from the table, Mitya rapidly wrote two lines, folded the paper in four, and thrust it in his waistcoat pocket.He put the pistols in the case, locked it up, and kept it in his hand.
Then he looked at Pyotr Ilyitch with a slow, thoughtful smile.
"Now, let's go."
"Where are we going? No, wait a minute....Are you thinking of putting that bullet in your brain, perhaps?" Pyotr Ilyitch asked uneasily.
"I was fooling about the bullet! I want to live.I love life, You may be sure of that.I love golden-haired Phorbus and his warm light....Dear Pyotr Ilyitch, do you know how to step aside?""What do you mean by 'stepping aside'?"
"Making way.Making way for a dear creature, and for one I hate.
And to let the one I hate become dear- that's what making way means!
And to say to them: God bless you, go your way, pass on, while I-""While you-?"
"That's enough, let's go."
"Upon my word.I'll tell someone to prevent your going there,"said Pyotr Ilyitch, looking at him."What are you going to Mokroe for, now?""There's a woman there, a woman.That's enough for you.You shut up.""Listen, though you're such a savage I've always liked you....Ifeel anxious."
"Thanks, old fellow.I'm a savage you say.Savages, savages!
That's what I am always saying.Savages! Why, here's Misha! I was forgetting him."Misha ran in, post-haste, with a handful of notes in change, and reported that everyone was in a bustle at the Plotnikovs'; "They're carrying down the bottles, and the fish, and the tea; it will all be ready directly." Mitya seized ten roubles and handed it to Pyotr Ilyitch, then tossed another ten-rouble note to Misha.
"Don't dare to do such a thing!" cried Pyotr Ilyitch."I won't have it in my house, it's a bad, demoralising habit.Put your money away.Here, put it here, why waste it? It would come in handy to-morrow, and I dare say you'll be coming to me to borrow ten roubles again.Why do you keep putting the notes in your side pocket? Ah, you'll lose them!""I say, my dear fellow, let's go to Mokroe together.""What should I go for?"
"I say, let's open a bottle at once, and drink to life! I want to drink, and especially to drink with you.I've never drunk with you, have I?""Very well, we can go to the Metropolis.I was just going there.""I haven't time for that.Let's drink at the Plotnikovs', in the back room.Shall I ask you a riddle?""Ask away."
Mitya took the piece of paper out of his waistcoat pocket, unfolded it and showed it.In a large, distinct hand was written: "Ipunish myself for my whole life; my whole life I punish!""I will certainly speak to someone.I'll go at once," said Pyotr Ilyitch, after reading the paper.
