few words full
of dignity. He only touched again, lightly and ironically, on "romancing"
and "psychology," and in an appropriate place quoted, "Jupiter, you are
angry, therefore you are wrong," which provoked a burst of approving
laughter in the audience, for Ippolit Kirillovitch was by no means like
Jupiter. Then, _a propos_ of the accusation that he was teaching the young
generation to murder their fathers, Fetyukovitch observed, with great
dignity, that he would not even answer. As for the prosecutor's charge of
uttering unorthodox opinions, Fetyukovitch hinted that it was a personal
insinuation and that he had expected in this court to be secure from
accusations "damaging to my reputation as a citizen and a loyal subject."
But at these words the President pulled him up, too, and Fetyukovitch
concluded his speech with a bow, amid a hum of approbation in the court.
And Ippolit Kirillovitch was, in the opinion of our ladies, "crushed for
good."

Then the prisoner was allowed to speak. Mitya stood up, but said very
little. He was fearfully exhausted, physically and mentally. The look of
strength and independence with which he had entered in the morning had
almost disappeared. He seemed as though he had passed through an
experience that day, which had taught him for the rest of his life
something very important he had not understood till then. His voice was
weak, he did not shout as before. In his words there was a new note of
humility, defeat and submission.

"What am I to say, gentlemen of the jury? The hour of judgment has come
for me, I feel the hand of God upon me! The end has come to an erring man!
But, before God, I repeat to you, I am innocent of my father's blood! For
the last time I repeat, it wasn't I killed him! I was erring, but I loved
what is good. Every instant I strove to reform, but I lived like a wild
beast. I thank the prosecutor, he told me many things about myself that I
did not know; but it's not true that I killed my father, the prosecutor is
mistaken. I thank my counsel, too. I cried listening to him; but it's not
true that I killed my father, and he needn't have supposed it. And don't
believe the doctors. I am perfectly sane, only my heart is heavy. If you
spare me, if you let me go, I will pray for you. I will be a better man. I
give you my word before God I will! And if you will condemn me, I'll break
my sword over my head myself and kiss the pieces. But spare me, do not rob
me of my God! I