The Brothers Karamazov‘So you see, sir, who it is hell’s for,’ said Andrey, whipping
up the left horse, ‘but you’re like a little child... that’s how
we look on you... and though you’re hasty-tempered, sir, yet
God will forgive you for your kind heart.’
‘And you, do you forgive me, Andrey?’
‘What should I forgive you for, sir? You’ve never done me
any harm.’
‘No, for everyone, for everyone, you here alone, on the
road, will you forgive me for everyone? Speak, simple peas-
ant heart!’
‘Oh, sir! I feel afraid of driving you, your talk is so
strange.’
But Mitya did not hear. He was frantically praying and
muttering to himself.
‘Lord, receive me, with all my lawlessness, and do not
condemn me. Let me pass by Thy judgment... do not con-
demn me, for I have condemned myself, do not condemn
me, for I love Thee, O Lord. I am a wretch, but I love Thee.
If Thou sendest me to hell, I shall love Thee there, and from
there I shall cry out that I love Thee for ever and ever.... But
let me love to the end.... Here and now for just five hours...
till the first light of Thy day... for I love the queen of my
soul... I love her and I cannot help loving her. Thou seest my
whole heart... I shall gallop up, I shall fall before her and say,
‘You are right to pass on and leave me. Farewell and forget
your victim... never fret yourself about me!’’
‘Mokroe!’ cried Andrey, pointing ahead with his whip.
Through the pale darkness of the night loomed a solid
black mass of buildings, flung down, as it were, in the vast