The Brothers Karamazov

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10 0 The Brothers Karamazov

not the first to speak. He remained dumb, and did not even
look much interested.
‘Can you. talk to me?’ asked Ivan. ‘I won’t tire you
much.’
‘Certainly I can,’ mumbled Smerdyakov, in a faint voice.
‘Has your honour been back long?’ he added patronisingly,
as though encouraging a nervous visitor.
‘I only arrived to-day.... To see the mess you are in here.’
Smerdyakov sighed.
‘Why do you sigh? You knew of it all along,’ Ivan blurted
out.
Smerdyakov was stolidly silent for a while.
‘How could I help knowing? It was clear beforehand. But
how could I tell it would turn out like that?’
‘What would turn out? Don’t prevaricate! You’ve foretold
you’d have a fit; on the way down to the cellar, you know.
You mentioned the very spot.’
‘Have you said so at the examination yet?’ Smerdyakov
queried with composure.
Ivan felt suddenly angry.
‘No, I haven’t yet, but I certainly shall. You must explain
a great deal to me, my man; and let me tell you, I am not go-
ing to let you play with me!’
‘Why should I play with you, when I put my whole trust
in you, as in God Almighty?’ said Smerdyakov, with the
same composure, only for a moment closing his eyes.
‘In the first place,’ began Ivan, ‘I know that epileptic fits
can’t be told beforehand. I’ve inquired; don’t try and take
me in. You can’t foretell the day and the hour. How was it

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