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more than I can bear, I warn you. I can’t bear it. A comedy,
perhaps, not a tragedy. Tell me, will Father Zossima live till
to-morrow, will he? Oh, my God! What is happening to me?
Every minute I close my eyes and see that it’s all nonsense,
all nonsense.’
‘I should be very grateful,’ Alyosha interrupted suddenly,
‘if you could give me a clean rag to bind up my finger with. I
have hurt it, and it’s very painful.’
Alyosha unbound his bitten finger. The handkerchief
was soaked with blood. Madame Hohlakov screamed and
shut her eyes.
‘Good heavens, what a wound, how awful!
But as soon as Lise saw Alyosha’s finger through the
crack, she flung the door wide open.
‘Come, come here,’ she cried, imperiously. ‘No nonsense
now! Good heavens, why did you stand there saying nothing
about it all this time? He might have bled to death, mamma!
How did you do it? Water, water! You must wash it first of
all, simply hold it in cold water to stop the pain, and keep it
there, keep it there.... Make haste, mamma, some water in a
slop-basin. But do make haste,’ she finished nervously. She
was quite frightened at the sight of Alyosha’s wound.
‘Shouldn’t we send for Herzenstube?’ cried Madame
Hohlakov.
‘Mamma, you’ll be the death of me. Your Herzenstube
will come and say that he can make nothing of it! Water,
water! Mamma, for goodness’ sake go yourself and hurry
Yulia, she is such a slowcoach and never can come quickly!
Make haste, mamma, or I shall die.’

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