10 The Brothers Karamazov
Ivan sat scowling, both his fists convulsively pressed on
his knees.
‘Yes, I am sorry I didn’t punch you in the face,’ he said
with a bitter smile. ‘I couldn’t have taken you to the lock-up
just then. Who would have believed me and what charge
could I bring against you? But the punch in the face... oh,
I’m sorry I didn’t think of it. Though blows are forbidden, I
should have pounded your ugly face to a jelly.’
Smerdyakov looked at him almost with relish.
‘In the ordinary occasions of life,’ he said in the same
complacent and sententious tone in which he had taunted
Grigory and argued with him about religion at Fyodor Pav-
lovitch’s table, ‘in the ordinary occasions of life, blows on
the face are forbidden nowadays by law, and people have
given them up, but in exceptional occasions of life people
still fly to blows, not only among us but all over the world,
be it even the fullest republic of France, just as in the time of
Adam and Eve, and they never will leave off, but you, even
in an exceptional case, did not dare.’
‘What are you learning French words for?’ Ivan nodded
towards the exercise-book lying on the table.
‘Why shouldn’t I learn them so as to improve my educa-
tion, supposing that I may myself chance to go some day to
those happy parts of Europe?’
‘Listen, monster.’ Ivan’s eyes flashed and he trembled all
over. ‘I am not afraid of your accusations; you can say what
you like about me, and if I don’t beat you to death, it’s sim-
ply because I suspect you of that crime and I’ll drag you to
justice. I’ll unmask you.’