0 The Brothers Karamazov
‘Oh, the irony of fate!’ cried Mitya, and, quite losing his
head, he fell again to rousing the tipsy peasant. He roused
him with a sort of ferocity, pulled at him, pushed him, even
beat him; but after five minutes of vain exertions, he re-
turned to his bench in helpless despair, and sat down.
‘Stupid! Stupid!’ cried Mitya. ‘And how dishonourable it
all is!’ something made him add. His head began to ache
horribly. ‘Should he fling it up and go away altogether?’ he
wondered. ‘No, wait till to-morrow now. I’ll stay on pur-
pose. What else did I come for? Besides, I’ve no means of
going. How am I to get away from here now? Oh, the idi-
ocy of it’ But his head ached more and more. He sat without
moving, and unconsciously dozed off and fell asleep as he
sat. He seemed to have slept for two hours or more. He was
waked up by his head aching so unbearably that he could
have screamed. There was a hammering in his temples, and
the top of his head ached. It was a long time before he could
wake up fully and understand what had happened to him.
At last he realised that the room was full of charcoal
fumes from the stove, and that he might die of suffoca-
tion. And the drunken peasant still lay snoring. The candle
guttered and was about to go out. Mitya cried out, and ran
staggering across the passage into the forester’s room. The
forester waked up at once, but hearing that the other room
was full of fumes, to Mitya’s surprise and annoyance, ac-
cepted the fact with strange unconcern, though he did go
to see to it.
‘But he’s dead, he’s dead! and... what am I to do then?’
cried Mitya frantically.