0 The Brothers Karamazov
end; all things are made equal. That’s the long and short of
it.’
‘You know, I keep thinking of your pistols.’
‘That’s all foolery, too! Drink, and don’t be fanciful. I love
life. I’ve loved life too much, shamefully much. Enough!
Let’s drink to life, dear boy, I propose the toast. Why am
I pleased with myself? I’m a scoundrel, but I’m satisfied
with myself. And yet I’m tortured by the thought that I’m a
scoundrel, but satisfied with myself. I bless the creation. I’m
ready to bless God and His creation directly, but... I must
kill one noxious insect for fear it should crawl and spoil life
for others.... Let us drink to life, dear brother. What can be
more precious than life? Nothing! To life, and to one queen
of queens!’
‘Let’s drink to life and to your queen, too, if you like.’
They drank a glass each. Although Mitya was excited
and expansive, yet he was melancholy, too. It was as though
some heavy, overwhelming anxiety were weighing upon
him.
‘Misha... here’s your Misha come! Misha, come here, my
boy, drink this glass to Phoebus the golden-haired, of to-
morrow morn..’
‘What are you giving it him for?’ cried Pyotr Ilyitch, ir-
ritably.
‘Yes, yes, yes, let me! I want to!’
‘E — ech!’
Misha emptied the glass, bowed, and ran out.
‘He’ll remember it afterwards,’ Mitya remarked. ‘Wom-
an, I love woman! What is woman? The queen of creation!