11 The Brothers Karamazovcy of a young profligate to save her father; the same Katya
who had just before, in her pride and chastity, sacrificed
herself and her maidenly modesty before all these people,
telling of Mitya’s generous conduct, in the hope of softening
his fate a little. And now, again, she sacrificed herself; but
this time it was for another, and perhaps only now — per-
haps only at this moment — she felt and knew how dear that
other was to her! She had sacrificed herself in terror for him;
conceiving all of a sudden that he had ruined himself by his
confession that it was he who had committed the murder,
not his brother, she had sacrificed herself to save him, to
save his good name, his reputation!
And yet one terrible doubt occurred to one — was she
lying in her description of her former relations with Mitya?
— that was the question. No, she had not intentionally slan-
dered him when she cried that Mitya despised her for her
bowing down to him! She believed it herself. She had been
firmly convinced, perhaps ever since that bow, that the sim-
plehearted Mitya, who even then adored her, was laughing
at her and despising her. She had loved him with an hysteri-
cal, ‘lacerated’ love only from pride, from wounded pride,
and that love was not like love, but more like revenge. Oh!
perhaps that lacerated love would have grown into real
love, perhaps Katya longed for nothing more than that, but
Mitya’s faithlessness had wounded her to the bottom of her
heart, and her heart could not forgive him. The moment
of revenge had come upon her suddenly, and all that had
been accumulating so long and so painfully in the offend-
ed woman’s breast burst out all at once and unexpectedly.