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dance you,’ he said. What do you say to that? ‘I’ve plenty of
tricks in my time,’ said he. He did Demidov, the merchant,
out of sixty thousand.’
‘What, he stole it?’
‘He brought him the money as a man he could trust,
saying, ‘Take care of it for me, friend, there’ll be a police
search at my place to-morrow.’ And he kept it. ‘You have
given it to the Church,’ he declared. I said to him: ‘You’re a
scoundrel,’ I said. ‘No,’ said he, ‘I’m not a scoundrel, but I’m
broadminded.’ But that wasn’t he, that was someone else.
I’ve muddled him with someone else... without noticing it.
Come, another glass and that’s enough. Take away the bot-
tle, Ivan. I’ve been telling lies. Why didn’t you stop me, Ivan,
and tell me I was lying?’
‘I knew you’d stop of yourself.’
‘That’s a lie. You did it from spite, from simple spite
against me. You despise me. You have come to me and de-
spised me in my own house.’
‘Well, I’m going away. You’ve had too much brandy.’
‘I’ve begged you for Christ’s sake to go to Tchermashnya
for a day or two, and you don’t go.’
‘I’ll go to-morrow if you’re so set upon it.’
‘You won’t go. You want to keep an eye on me. That’s what
you want, spiteful fellow. That’s why you won’t go.’
The old man persisted. He had reached that state of
drunkenness when the drunkard who has till then been in-
offensive tries to pick a quarrel and to assert himself.
‘Why are you looking at me? Why do you look like that?
Your eyes look at me and say, ‘You ugly drunkard!’ Your

The Brothers Karamazov