The Brothers Karamazov

Chapter 7

And in the Open Air

‘T

HE air is fresh, but in my apartment it is not so in any

sense of the word. Let us walk slowly, sir. I should be

glad of your kind interest.’

‘I too have something important to say to you,’ observed

Alyosha, ‘only I don’t know how to begin.’

‘To be sure you must have business with me. You would

never have looked in upon me without some object. Unless

you come simply to complain of the boy, and that’s hardly

likely. And, by the way, about the boy: I could not explain

to you in there, but here I will describe that scene to you.

My tow was thicker a week ago — I mean my beard. That’s

the nickname they give to my beard, the schoolboys most

of all. Well, your brother Dmitri Fyodorovitch was pulling

me by my beard, I’d done nothing, he was in a towering

rage and happened to come upon me. He dragged me out of

the tavern into the market place; at that moment the boys

were coming out of school, and with them Ilusha. As soon

as he saw me in such a state he rushed up to me. ‘Father,’ he

cried, ‘father!’ He caught hold of me, hugged me, tried to

pull me away, crying to my assailant, ‘Let go, let go, it’s my