"Yes, yes.I was telling lies just now.I was lying against my honour and my conscience, but I wanted to save him, for he has hated and despised me so!" Katya cried madly."Oh, he has despised me horribly, he has always despised me, and do you know, he has despised me from the very moment that I bowed down to him for that money.I saw that....I felt it at once at the time, but for a long time I wouldn't believe it.How often I have read it in his eyes, 'You came of yourself, though.' Oh, he didn't understand, he had no idea why I ran to him, he can suspect nothing but baseness, he judged me by himself, he thought everyone was like himself!" Katya hissed furiously, in a perfect frenzy."And he only wanted to marry me, because I'd inherited a fortune, because of that, because of that! Ialways suspected it was because of that! Oh, he is a brute! He was always convinced that I should be trembling with shame all my life before him, because I went to him then, and that he had a right to despise me forever for it, and so to be superior to me- that's why he wanted to marry me! That's so, that's all so! I tried to conquer him by my love- a love that knew no bounds.I even tried to forgive his faithlessness; but he understood nothing, nothing! How could he understand indeed? He is a monster! I only received that letter the next evening: it was brought me from the tavern- and only that morning, only that morning I wanted to forgive him everything, everything- even his treachery!"The President and the prosecutor, of course, tried to calm her.
I can't help thinking that they felt ashamed of taking advantage of her hysteria and of listening to such avowals.I remember hearing them say to her, "We understand how hard it is for you; be sure we are able to feel for you," and so on, and so on.And yet they dragged the evidence out of the raving, hysterical woman.She described at last with extraordinary clearness, which is so often seen, though only for a moment, in such overwrought states, how Ivan had been nearly driven out of his mind during the last two months trying to save "the monster and murderer," his brother.
"He tortured himself," she exclaimed, "he was always trying to minimise his brother's guilt and confessing to me that he, too, had never loved his father, and perhaps desired his death himself.Oh, he has a tender, over-tender conscience! He tormented himself with his conscience! He told me everything, everything! He came every day and talked to me as his only friend.I have the honour to be his only friend!" she cried suddenly with a sort of defiance, and her eyes flashed."He had been twice to see Smerdyakov.One day he came to me and said, 'If it was not my brother, but Smerdyakov committed the murder' (for the legend was circulating everywhere that Smerdyakov had done it), 'perhaps I too am guilty, for Smerdyakov knew I didn't like my father and perhaps believed that I desired my father's death.'
Then I brought out that letter and showed it him.He was entirely convinced that his brother had done it, and he was overwhelmed by it.He couldn't endure the thought that his own brother was a parricide! Only a week ago I saw that it was making him ill.During the last few days he has talked incoherently in my presence.I saw his mind was giving way.He walked about, raving; he was seen muttering in the streets.The doctor from Moscow, at my request, examined him the day before yesterday and told me that he was on the eve of brain fever- and all on his account, on account of this monster! And last night he learnt that Smerdyakov was dead! It was such a shock that it drove him out of his mind...and all through this monster, all for the sake of saving the monster!"Oh, of course, such an outpouring, such an avowal is only possible once in a lifetime- at the hour of death, for instance, on the way to the scaffold! But it was in Katya's character, and it was such a moment in her life.It was the same impetuous Katya who had thrown herself on the mercy of a young profligate to save her father; the same Katya who had just before, in her pride and chastity, sacrificed herself and her maidenly modesty before all these people, telling of Mitya's generous conduct, in the hope of softening his fate a little.And now, again, she sacrificed herself; but this time it was for another, and perhaps only now- perhaps only at this moment- she felt and knew how dear that other was to her! She had sacrificed herself in terror for him; conceiving all of a sudden that he had ruined himself by his confession that it was he who had committed the murder, not his brother, she had sacrificed herself to save him, to save his good name, his reputation!
And yet one terrible doubt occurred to one- was she lying in her description of her former relations with Mitya?- that was the question.No, she had not intentionally slandered him when she cried that Mitya despised her for her bowing down to him! She believed it herself.She had been firmly convinced, perhaps ever since that bow, that the simplehearted Mitya, who even then adored her, was laughing at her and despising her.She had loved him with an hysterical, "lacerated" love only from pride, from wounded pride, and that love was not like love, but more like revenge.Oh! perhaps that lacerated love would have grown into real love, perhaps Katya longed for nothing more than that, but Mitya's faithlessness had wounded her to the bottom of her heart, and her heart could not forgive him.The moment of revenge had come upon her suddenly, and all that had been accumulating so long and so painfully in the offended woman's breast burst out all at once and unexpectedly.She betrayed Mitya, but she betrayed herself, too.And no sooner had she given full expression to her feelings than the tension of course was over and she was overwhelmed with shame.Hysterics began again: she fell on the floor, sobbing and screaming.She was carried out.At that moment Grushenka, with a wail, rushed towards Mitya before they had time to prevent her.
