Is it from love of life?
How did I know that Smerdyakov had hanged himself?
Yes, it was he told me so."
"And you are quite convinced that there has been someone here?" asked Alyosha.
"Yes, on that sofa in the corner.
You would have driven him away.
You did drive him away: he disappeared when you arrived.
I love your face, Alyosha.
Did you know that I loved your face?
And he is myself, Alyosha.
All that's base in me, all that's mean and contemptible.
Yes, I am a romantic. He guessed it... though it's a libel.
He is frightfully stupid; but it's to his advantage.
He has cunning, animal cunning- he knew how to infuriate me.
He kept taunting me with believing in him, and that was how he made me listen to him.
He fooled me like a boy.
He told me a great deal that was true about myself, though.
I should never have owned it to myself.
Do you know, Alyosha," Ivan added in an intensely earnest and confidential tone, "I should be awfully glad to think that it was he and not I."
"He has worn you out," said Alyosha, looking compassionately at his brother.
"He's been teasing me.
And you know he does it so cleverly, so cleverly.
'Conscience!
What is conscience?
I make it up for myself.
Why am I tormented by it?
From habit.
From the universal habit of mankind for the seven thousand years.
So let us give it up, and we shall be gods.'
It was he said that, it was he said that!"
"And not you, not you?" Alyosha could not help crying, looking frankly at his brother. "Never mind him, anyway; have done with him and forget him.
And let him take with him all that you curse now, and never come back!"
"Yes, but he is spiteful.
He laughed at me.
He was impudent, Alyosha," Ivan said, with a shudder of offence. "But he was unfair to me, unfair to me about lots of things.
He told lies about me to my face.
'Oh, you are going to perform an act of heroic virtue: to confess you murdered your father, that the valet murdered him at your instigation.'"
"Brother," Alyosha interposed, "restrain yourself. It was not you murdered him.
It's not true!"
"That's what he says, he, and he knows it.
'You are going to perform an act of heroic virtue, and you don't believe in virtue; that's what tortures you and makes you angry, that's why you are so vindictive.'
He said that to me about me and he knows what he says."
"It's you say that, not he," exclaimed Alyosha mournfully, "and you say it because you are ill and delirious, tormenting yourself."
"No, he knows what he says.
'You are going from pride,' he says. 'You'll stand up and say it was I killed him, and why do you writhe with horror? You are lying!
I despise your opinion, I despise your horror!'
He said that about me.
'And do you know you are longing for their praise- "he is a criminal, a murderer, but what a generous soul; he wanted to save his brother and he confessed."
That's a lie Alyosha!" Ivan cried suddenly, with flashing eyes. "I don't want the low rabble to praise me, I swear I don't! That's a lie!
That's why I threw the glass at him and it broke against his ugly face."