feat_summary_path: finished_summaries/shmoop/The Brothers Karamazov/section_31_part_0.txt
feat_book_id: The Brothers Karamazov.book 5.chapter 1
feat_summary_id: book 5, chapter 1
feat_summary: {"name": "Book 5, Chapter 1", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201023112808/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/brothers-karamazov/summary/book-5-chapter-1", "summary": "When Alyosha arrives at the Khokhlakovs', Madame Khokhlakov is on her way out the door to tend to Katerina, who is now running a fever. Alyosha and Lise are alone, so Alyosha tells Lise about his encounter with Snegiryov. He reveals that he's actually glad that Snegiryov rejected the money because it gave Snegiryov the chance to prove he was an honorable man. Alyosha decides that Snegiryov will be more receptive to the money the next day. Lise then tells Alyosha that her note to him actually wasn't a joke at all. Alyosha tells her he knows, and Lise is annoyed because he seems so cold. But then he kisses her, which surprises them both. He confesses that he had her letter in his pocket all along. Lise asks Alyosha why he seems so terribly sad, and he mentions how troubled he is by his family's conflicts and Zosima's ill health. After kissing Lise good-bye, Alyosha heads downstairs only to be headed off by Madame Khokhlakov, who is distressed by what she's overheard between him and Lise. Alyosha refuses to show her Lise's letter and continues out the door.", "analysis": ""}
text: Book V. Pro And Contra Chapter I. The Engagement
  
  
  Madame Hohlakov was again the first to meet Alyosha. She was flustered;
  something important had happened. Katerina Ivanovna's hysterics had ended
  in a fainting fit, and then "a terrible, awful weakness had followed, she
  lay with her eyes turned up and was delirious. Now she was in a fever.
  They had sent for Herzenstube; they had sent for the aunts. The aunts were
  already here, but Herzenstube had not yet come. They were all sitting in
  her room, waiting. She was unconscious now, and what if it turned to brain
  fever!"
  
  Madame Hohlakov looked gravely alarmed. "This is serious, serious," she
  added at every word, as though nothing that had happened to her before had
  been serious. Alyosha listened with distress, and was beginning to
  describe his adventures, but she interrupted him at the first words. She
  had not time to listen. She begged him to sit with Lise and wait for her
  there.
  
  "Lise," she whispered almost in his ear, "Lise has greatly surprised me
  just now, dear Alexey Fyodorovitch. She touched me, too, and so my heart
  forgives her everything. Only fancy, as soon as you had gone, she began to
  be truly remorseful for having laughed at you to-day and yesterday, though
  she was not laughing at you, but only joking. But she was seriously sorry
  for it, almost ready to cry, so that I was quite surprised. She has never
  been really sorry for laughing at me, but has only made a joke of it. And
  you know she is laughing at me every minute. But this time she was in
  earnest. She thinks a great deal of your opinion, Alexey Fyodorovitch, and
  don't take offense or be wounded by her if you can help it. I am never
  hard upon her, for she's such a clever little thing. Would you believe it?
  She said just now that you were a friend of her childhood, 'the greatest
  friend of her childhood'--just think of that--'greatest friend'--and what
  about me? She has very strong feelings and memories, and, what's more, she
  uses these phrases, most unexpected words, which come out all of a sudden
  when you least expect them. She spoke lately about a pine-tree, for
  instance: there used to be a pine-tree standing in our garden in her early
  childhood. Very likely it's standing there still; so there's no need to
  speak in the past tense. Pine-trees are not like people, Alexey
  Fyodorovitch, they don't change quickly. 'Mamma,' she said, 'I remember
  this pine-tree as in a dream,' only she said something so original about
  it that I can't repeat it. Besides, I've forgotten it. Well, good-by! I am
  so worried I feel I shall go out of my mind. Ah! Alexey Fyodorovitch, I've
  been out of my mind twice in my life. Go to Lise, cheer her up, as you
  always can so charmingly. Lise," she cried, going to her door, "here I've
  brought you Alexey Fyodorovitch, whom you insulted so. He is not at all
  angry, I assure you; on the contrary, he is surprised that you could
  suppose so."
  
  "_Merci, maman._ Come in, Alexey Fyodorovitch."
  
  Alyosha went in. Lise looked rather embarrassed, and at once flushed
  crimson. She was evidently ashamed of something, and, as people always do
  in such cases, she began immediately talking of other things, as though
  they were of absorbing interest to her at the moment.
  
  "Mamma has just told me all about the two hundred roubles, Alexey
  Fyodorovitch, and your taking them to that poor officer ... and she told
  me all the awful story of how he had been insulted ... and you know,
  although mamma muddles things ... she always rushes from one thing to
  another ... I cried when I heard. Well, did you give him the money and how
  is that poor man getting on?"
  
  "The fact is I didn't give it to him, and it's a long story," answered
  Alyosha, as though he, too, could think of nothing but his regret at
  having failed, yet Lise saw perfectly well that he, too, looked away, and
  that he, too, was trying to talk of other things.
  
  Alyosha sat down to the table and began to tell his story, but at the
  first words he lost his embarrassment and gained the whole of Lise's
  attention as well. He spoke with deep feeling, under the influence of the
  strong impression he had just received, and he succeeded in telling his
  story well and circumstantially. In old days in Moscow he had been fond of
  coming to Lise and describing to her what had just happened to him, what
  he had read, or what he remembered of his childhood. Sometimes they had
  made day-dreams and woven whole romances together--generally cheerful and
  amusing ones. Now they both felt suddenly transported to the old days in
  Moscow, two years before. Lise was extremely touched by his story. Alyosha
  described Ilusha with warm feeling. When he finished describing how the
  luckless man trampled on the money, Lise could not help clasping her hands
  and crying out:
  
  "So you didn't give him the money! So you let him run away! Oh, dear, you
  ought to have run after him!"
  
  "No, Lise; it's better I didn't run after him," said Alyosha, getting up
  from his chair and walking thoughtfully across the room.
  
  "How so? How is it better? Now they are without food and their case is
  hopeless?"
  
  "Not hopeless, for the two hundred roubles will still come to them. He'll
  take the money to-morrow. To-morrow he will be sure to take it," said
  Alyosha, pacing up and down, pondering. "You see, Lise," he went on,
  stopping suddenly before her, "I made one blunder, but that, even that, is
  all for the best."
  
  "What blunder, and why is it for the best?"
  
  "I'll tell you. He is a man of weak and timorous character; he has
  suffered so much and is very good-natured. I keep wondering why he took
  offense so suddenly, for I assure you, up to the last minute, he did not
  know that he was going to trample on the notes. And I think now that there
  was a great deal to offend him ... and it could not have been otherwise in
  his position.... To begin with, he was sore at having been so glad of the
  money in my presence and not having concealed it from me. If he had been
  pleased, but not so much; if he had not shown it; if he had begun
  affecting scruples and difficulties, as other people do when they take
  money, he might still endure to take it. But he was too genuinely
  delighted, and that was mortifying. Ah, Lise, he is a good and truthful
  man--that's the worst of the whole business. All the while he talked, his
  voice was so weak, so broken, he talked so fast, so fast, he kept laughing
  such a laugh, or perhaps he was crying--yes, I am sure he was crying, he
  was so delighted--and he talked about his daughters--and about the situation
  he could get in another town.... And when he had poured out his heart, he
  felt ashamed at having shown me his inmost soul like that. So he began to
  hate me at once. He is one of those awfully sensitive poor people. What
  had made him feel most ashamed was that he had given in too soon and
  accepted me as a friend, you see. At first he almost flew at me and tried
  to intimidate me, but as soon as he saw the money he had begun embracing
  me; he kept touching me with his hands. This must have been how he came to
  feel it all so humiliating, and then I made that blunder, a very important
  one. I suddenly said to him that if he had not money enough to move to
  another town, we would give it to him, and, indeed, I myself would give
  him as much as he wanted out of my own money. That struck him all at once.
  Why, he thought, did I put myself forward to help him? You know, Lise,
  it's awfully hard for a man who has been injured, when other people look
  at him as though they were his benefactors.... I've heard that; Father
  Zossima told me so. I don't know how to put it, but I have often seen it
  myself. And I feel like that myself, too. And the worst of it was that
  though he did not know, up to the very last minute, that he would trample
  on the notes, he had a kind of presentiment of it, I am sure of that.
  That's just what made him so ecstatic, that he had that presentiment....
  And though it's so dreadful, it's all for the best. In fact, I believe
  nothing better could have happened."
  
  "Why, why could nothing better have happened?" cried Lise, looking with
  great surprise at Alyosha.
  
  "Because if he had taken the money, in an hour after getting home, he
  would be crying with mortification, that's just what would have happened.
  And most likely he would have come to me early to-morrow, and perhaps have
  flung the notes at me and trampled upon them as he did just now. But now
  he has gone home awfully proud and triumphant, though he knows he has
  'ruined himself.' So now nothing could be easier than to make him accept
  the two hundred roubles by to-morrow, for he has already vindicated his
  honor, tossed away the money, and trampled it under foot.... He couldn't
  know when he did it that I should bring it to him again to-morrow, and yet
  he is in terrible need of that money. Though he is proud of himself now,
  yet even to-day he'll be thinking what a help he has lost. He will think
  of it more than ever at night, will dream of it, and by to-morrow morning
  he may be ready to run to me to ask forgiveness. It's just then that I'll
  appear. 'Here, you are a proud man,' I shall say: 'you have shown it; but
  now take the money and forgive us!' And then he will take it!"
  
  Alyosha was carried away with joy as he uttered his last words, "And then
  he will take it!" Lise clapped her hands.
  
  "Ah, that's true! I understand that perfectly now. Ah, Alyosha, how do you
  know all this? So young and yet he knows what's in the heart.... I should
  never have worked it out."
  
  "The great thing now is to persuade him that he is on an equal footing
  with us, in spite of his taking money from us," Alyosha went on in his
  excitement, "and not only on an equal, but even on a higher footing."
  
  " 'On a higher footing' is charming, Alexey Fyodorovitch; but go on, go
  on!"
  
  "You mean there isn't such an expression as 'on a higher footing'; but
  that doesn't matter because--"
  
  "Oh, no, of course it doesn't matter. Forgive me, Alyosha, dear.... You
  know, I scarcely respected you till now--that is I respected you but on an
  equal footing; but now I shall begin to respect you on a higher footing.
  Don't be angry, dear, at my joking," she put in at once, with strong
  feeling. "I am absurd and small, but you, you! Listen, Alexey
  Fyodorovitch. Isn't there in all our analysis--I mean your analysis ... no,
  better call it ours--aren't we showing contempt for him, for that poor
  man--in analyzing his soul like this, as it were, from above, eh? In
  deciding so certainly that he will take the money?"
  
  "No, Lise, it's not contempt," Alyosha answered, as though he had prepared
  himself for the question. "I was thinking of that on the way here. How can
  it be contempt when we are all like him, when we are all just the same as
  he is? For you know we are just the same, no better. If we are better, we
  should have been just the same in his place.... I don't know about you,
  Lise, but I consider that I have a sordid soul in many ways, and his soul
  is not sordid; on the contrary, full of fine feeling.... No, Lise, I have
  no contempt for him. Do you know, Lise, my elder told me once to care for
  most people exactly as one would for children, and for some of them as one
  would for the sick in hospitals."
  
  "Ah, Alexey Fyodorovitch, dear, let us care for people as we would for the
  sick!"
  
  "Let us, Lise; I am ready. Though I am not altogether ready in myself. I
  am sometimes very impatient and at other times I don't see things. It's
  different with you."
  
  "Ah, I don't believe it! Alexey Fyodorovitch, how happy I am!"
  
  "I am so glad you say so, Lise."
  
  "Alexey Fyodorovitch, you are wonderfully good, but you are sometimes sort
  of formal.... And yet you are not a bit formal really. Go to the door,
  open it gently, and see whether mamma is listening," said Lise, in a
  nervous, hurried whisper.
  
  Alyosha went, opened the door, and reported that no one was listening.
  
  "Come here, Alexey Fyodorovitch," Lise went on, flushing redder and
  redder. "Give me your hand--that's right. I have to make a great
  confession, I didn't write to you yesterday in joke, but in earnest," and
  she hid her eyes with her hand. It was evident that she was greatly
  ashamed of the confession.
  
  Suddenly she snatched his hand and impulsively kissed it three times.
  
  "Ah, Lise, what a good thing!" cried Alyosha joyfully. "You know, I was
  perfectly sure you were in earnest."
  
  "Sure? Upon my word!" She put aside his hand, but did not leave go of it,
  blushing hotly, and laughing a little happy laugh. "I kiss his hand and he
  says, 'What a good thing!' "
  
  But her reproach was undeserved. Alyosha, too, was greatly overcome.
  
  "I should like to please you always, Lise, but I don't know how to do it,"
  he muttered, blushing too.
  
  "Alyosha, dear, you are cold and rude. Do you see? He has chosen me as his
  wife and is quite settled about it. He is sure I was in earnest. What a
  thing to say! Why, that's impertinence--that's what it is."
  
  "Why, was it wrong of me to feel sure?" Alyosha asked, laughing suddenly.
  
  "Ah, Alyosha, on the contrary, it was delightfully right," cried Lise,
  looking tenderly and happily at him.
  
  Alyosha stood still, holding her hand in his. Suddenly he stooped down and
  kissed her on her lips.
  
  "Oh, what are you doing?" cried Lise. Alyosha was terribly abashed.
  
  "Oh, forgive me if I shouldn't.... Perhaps I'm awfully stupid.... You said
  I was cold, so I kissed you.... But I see it was stupid."
  
  Lise laughed, and hid her face in her hands. "And in that dress!" she
  ejaculated in the midst of her mirth. But she suddenly ceased laughing and
  became serious, almost stern.
  
  "Alyosha, we must put off kissing. We are not ready for that yet, and we
  shall have a long time to wait," she ended suddenly. "Tell me rather why
  you who are so clever, so intellectual, so observant, choose a little
  idiot, an invalid like me? Ah, Alyosha, I am awfully happy, for I don't
  deserve you a bit."
  
  "You do, Lise. I shall be leaving the monastery altogether in a few days.
  If I go into the world, I must marry. I know that. _He_ told me to marry,
  too. Whom could I marry better than you--and who would have me except you?
  I have been thinking it over. In the first place, you've known me from a
  child and you've a great many qualities I haven't. You are more light-
  hearted than I am; above all, you are more innocent than I am. I have been
  brought into contact with many, many things already.... Ah, you don't
  know, but I, too, am a Karamazov. What does it matter if you do laugh and
  make jokes, and at me, too? Go on laughing. I am so glad you do. You laugh
  like a little child, but you think like a martyr."
  
  "Like a martyr? How?"
  
  "Yes, Lise, your question just now: whether we weren't showing contempt
  for that poor man by dissecting his soul--that was the question of a
  sufferer.... You see, I don't know how to express it, but any one who
  thinks of such questions is capable of suffering. Sitting in your invalid
  chair you must have thought over many things already."
  
  "Alyosha, give me your hand. Why are you taking it away?" murmured Lise in
  a failing voice, weak with happiness. "Listen, Alyosha. What will you wear
  when you come out of the monastery? What sort of suit? Don't laugh, don't
  be angry, it's very, very important to me."
  
  "I haven't thought about the suit, Lise; but I'll wear whatever you like."
  
  "I should like you to have a dark blue velvet coat, a white pique
  waistcoat, and a soft gray felt hat.... Tell me, did you believe that I
  didn't care for you when I said I didn't mean what I wrote?"
  
  "No, I didn't believe it."
  
  "Oh, you insupportable person, you are incorrigible."
  
  "You see, I knew that you--seemed to care for me, but I pretended to
  believe that you didn't care for me to make it--easier for you."
  
  "That makes it worse! Worse and better than all! Alyosha, I am awfully
  fond of you. Just before you came this morning, I tried my fortune. I
  decided I would ask you for my letter, and if you brought it out calmly
  and gave it to me (as might have been expected from you) it would mean
  that you did not love me at all, that you felt nothing, and were simply a
  stupid boy, good for nothing, and that I am ruined. But you left the
  letter at home and that cheered me. You left it behind on purpose, so as
  not to give it back, because you knew I would ask for it? That was it,
  wasn't it?"
  
  "Ah, Lise, it was not so a bit. The letter is with me now, and it was this
  morning, in this pocket. Here it is."
  
  Alyosha pulled the letter out laughing, and showed it her at a distance.
  
  "But I am not going to give it to you. Look at it from here."
  
  "Why, then you told a lie? You, a monk, told a lie!"
  
  "I told a lie if you like," Alyosha laughed, too. "I told a lie so as not
  to give you back the letter. It's very precious to me," he added suddenly,
  with strong feeling, and again he flushed. "It always will be, and I won't
  give it up to any one!"
  
  Lise looked at him joyfully. "Alyosha," she murmured again, "look at the
  door. Isn't mamma listening?"
  
  "Very well, Lise, I'll look; but wouldn't it be better not to look? Why
  suspect your mother of such meanness?"
  
  "What meanness? As for her spying on her daughter, it's her right, it's
  not meanness!" cried Lise, firing up. "You may be sure, Alexey
  Fyodorovitch, that when I am a mother, if I have a daughter like myself I
  shall certainly spy on her!"
  
  "Really, Lise? That's not right."
  
  "Oh, my goodness! What has meanness to do with it? If she were listening
  to some ordinary worldly conversation, it would be meanness, but when her
  own daughter is shut up with a young man.... Listen, Alyosha, do you know
  I shall spy upon you as soon as we are married, and let me tell you I
  shall open all your letters and read them, so you may as well be
  prepared."
  
  "Yes, of course, if so--" muttered Alyosha, "only it's not right."
  
  "Ah, how contemptuous! Alyosha, dear, we won't quarrel the very first day.
  I'd better tell you the whole truth. Of course, it's very wrong to spy on
  people, and, of course, I am not right and you are, only I shall spy on
  you all the same."
  
  "Do, then; you won't find out anything," laughed Alyosha.
  
  "And, Alyosha, will you give in to me? We must decide that too."
  
  "I shall be delighted to, Lise, and certain to, only not in the most
  important things. Even if you don't agree with me, I shall do my duty in
  the most important things."
  
  "That's right; but let me tell you I am ready to give in to you not only
  in the most important matters, but in everything. And I am ready to vow to
  do so now--in everything, and for all my life!" cried Lise fervently, "and
  I'll do it gladly, gladly! What's more, I'll swear never to spy on you,
  never once, never to read one of your letters. For you are right and I am
  not. And though I shall be awfully tempted to spy, I know that I won't do
  it since you consider it dishonorable. You are my conscience now....
  Listen, Alexey Fyodorovitch, why have you been so sad lately--both
  yesterday and to-day? I know you have a lot of anxiety and trouble, but I
  see you have some special grief besides, some secret one, perhaps?"
  
  "Yes, Lise, I have a secret one, too," answered Alyosha mournfully. "I see
  you love me, since you guessed that."
  
  "What grief? What about? Can you tell me?" asked Lise with timid entreaty.
  
  "I'll tell you later, Lise--afterwards," said Alyosha, confused. "Now you
  wouldn't understand it perhaps--and perhaps I couldn't explain it."
  
  "I know your brothers and your father are worrying you, too."
  
  "Yes, my brothers too," murmured Alyosha, pondering.
  
  "I don't like your brother Ivan, Alyosha," said Lise suddenly.
  
  He noticed this remark with some surprise, but did not answer it.
  
  "My brothers are destroying themselves," he went on, "my father, too. And
  they are destroying others with them. It's 'the primitive force of the
  Karamazovs,' as Father Paissy said the other day, a crude, unbridled,
  earthly force. Does the spirit of God move above that force? Even that I
  don't know. I only know that I, too, am a Karamazov.... Me a monk, a monk!
  Am I a monk, Lise? You said just now that I was."
  
  "Yes, I did."
  
  "And perhaps I don't even believe in God."
  
  "You don't believe? What is the matter?" said Lise quietly and gently. But
  Alyosha did not answer. There was something too mysterious, too subjective
  in these last words of his, perhaps obscure to himself, but yet torturing
  him.
  
  "And now on the top of it all, my friend, the best man in the world, is
  going, is leaving the earth! If you knew, Lise, how bound up in soul I am
  with him! And then I shall be left alone.... I shall come to you, Lise....
  For the future we will be together."
  
  "Yes, together, together! Henceforward we shall be always together, all
  our lives! Listen, kiss me, I allow you."
  
  Alyosha kissed her.
  
  "Come, now go. Christ be with you!" and she made the sign of the cross
  over him. "Make haste back to _him_ while he is alive. I see I've kept you
  cruelly. I'll pray to-day for him and you. Alyosha, we shall be happy!
  Shall we be happy, shall we?"
  
  "I believe we shall, Lise."
  
  Alyosha thought it better not to go in to Madame Hohlakov and was going
  out of the house without saying good-by to her. But no sooner had he
  opened the door than he found Madame Hohlakov standing before him. From
  the first word Alyosha guessed that she had been waiting on purpose to
  meet him.
  
  "Alexey Fyodorovitch, this is awful. This is all childish nonsense and
  ridiculous. I trust you won't dream--It's foolishness, nothing but
  foolishness!" she said, attacking him at once.
  
  "Only don't tell her that," said Alyosha, "or she will be upset, and
  that's bad for her now."
  
  "Sensible advice from a sensible young man. Am I to understand that you
  only agreed with her from compassion for her invalid state, because you
  didn't want to irritate her by contradiction?"
  
  "Oh, no, not at all. I was quite serious in what I said," Alyosha declared
  stoutly.
  
  "To be serious about it is impossible, unthinkable, and in the first place
  I shall never be at home to you again, and I shall take her away, you may
  be sure of that."
  
  "But why?" asked Alyosha. "It's all so far off. We may have to wait
  another year and a half."
  
  "Ah, Alexey Fyodorovitch, that's true, of course, and you'll have time to
  quarrel and separate a thousand times in a year and a half. But I am so
  unhappy! Though it's such nonsense, it's a great blow to me. I feel like
  Famusov in the last scene of _Sorrow from Wit_. You are Tchatsky and she
  is Sofya, and, only fancy, I've run down to meet you on the stairs, and in
  the play the fatal scene takes place on the staircase. I heard it all; I
  almost dropped. So this is the explanation of her dreadful night and her
  hysterics of late! It means love to the daughter but death to the mother.
  I might as well be in my grave at once. And a more serious matter still,
  what is this letter she has written? Show it me at once, at once!"
  
  "No, there's no need. Tell me, how is Katerina Ivanovna now? I must know."
  
  "She still lies in delirium; she has not regained consciousness. Her aunts
  are here; but they do nothing but sigh and give themselves airs.
  Herzenstube came, and he was so alarmed that I didn't know what to do for
  him. I nearly sent for a doctor to look after him. He was driven home in
  my carriage. And on the top of it all, you and this letter! It's true
  nothing can happen for a year and a half. In the name of all that's holy,
  in the name of your dying elder, show me that letter, Alexey Fyodorovitch.
  I'm her mother. Hold it in your hand, if you like, and I will read it so."
  
  "No, I won't show it to you. Even if she sanctioned it, I wouldn't. I am
  coming to-morrow, and if you like, we can talk over many things, but now
  good-by!"
  
  And Alyosha ran downstairs and into the street.
  
  
  
  
  
feat_summary_name: Book 5, Chapter 1
target: When Alyosha arrives at the Khokhlakovs', Madame Khokhlakov is on her way out the door to tend to Katerina, who is now running a fever. Alyosha and Lise are alone, so Alyosha tells Lise about his encounter with Snegiryov. He reveals that he's actually glad that Snegiryov rejected the money because it gave Snegiryov the chance to prove he was an honorable man. Alyosha decides that Snegiryov will be more receptive to the money the next day. Lise then tells Alyosha that her note to him actually wasn't a joke at all. Alyosha tells her he knows, and Lise is annoyed because he seems so cold. But then he kisses her, which surprises them both. He confesses that he had her letter in his pocket all along. Lise asks Alyosha why he seems so terribly sad, and he mentions how troubled he is by his family's conflicts and Zosima's ill health. After kissing Lise good-bye, Alyosha heads downstairs only to be headed off by Madame Khokhlakov, who is distressed by what she's overheard between him and Lise. Alyosha refuses to show her Lise's letter and continues out the door.