Foolery! All things come to an 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, irritably.

"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. "Woman, I love woman! What
is woman? The queen of creation! My heart is sad, my heart is sad, Pyotr
Ilyitch. Do you remember Hamlet? 'I am very sorry, good Horatio! Alas,
poor Yorick!' Perhaps that's me, Yorick? Yes, I'm Yorick now, and a skull
afterwards."

Pyotr Ilyitch listened in silence. Mitya, too, was silent for a while.

"What dog's that you've got here?" he asked the shopman, casually,
noticing a pretty little lap-dog with dark eyes, sitting in the corner.

"It belongs to Varvara Alexyevna, the mistress," answered the clerk. "She
brought it and forgot it here. It must be taken back to her."

"I saw one like it ... in the regiment ..." murmured Mitya dreamily, "only
that one had its hind leg broken.... By the way, Pyotr Ilyitch, I wanted
to ask you: have you ever stolen anything in your life?"

"What a question!"

"Oh, I didn't mean anything. From somebody's pocket, you know. I don't
mean government money, every one steals that, and no doubt you do,
too...."

"You go to the devil."

"I'm talking of other people's money. Stealing straight out of a pocket?
Out of a purse, eh?"