CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THE Joseph Whitmore Barry dramatic library THE GIFT OB TV^O FRIENDS OF Cornell University 1934 1924 027 448 970 The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027448970 THE PLAYS From Leo Tolstoy concerning the translation of his works by Louise and Aylmer Maude : — "Better translators, both for knowledge of the two languages and for penetration into the very meaning of the matter translated, could not he invented." From Leo Tolstoy concerning the translation of his works by Louise and Aylmer Maude : — "Better translators, both for Imomledge of the two languages and for penetration into the very meaning of the matter translated, could not be invented." LEO TOLSTOY ^^ P L AYS Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude COMPLETE EDITION INCLUDING THE POSTHUMOUS PLAYS NEW YORK FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY 1914 Printed by Ealiantyne, Hanson &» Ca at the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh CONTENTS Preface Plays published during Tolstoy The Pov/er of Darkness (1886) . The First Distiller (1886) . Fruits of Culture (1889) s life (Z> 97 125 Posthumous Plays The Live Corpse .... The Cause of it All . The Light Shines in Darkness 229 303 .321 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Leo Tolstoy (Photogravure Portrait) . Frontispiece Matry6na gives Anisya the powders Facing page 12 I'm not ashamed of my parent . . „ „ 51 Her box is full as it is . . . „ „ 53 You TELL ME NOT TO FEAR MEN ? . . „ „ 91 Well, dear, and what progression is our business making? . . . „ „ ]74 There, you see ! You are being made A fool of . . . . . ,, ,, 223 vi! PREFACE The Power of Darkness, Tolstoy's first and greatest play, was no t written unt il he was fifty-eight years of age, and it was not allowed~to be~pErftn:«sied-iiL__Eussia till some years later. Both there and elsewhere abroad it was highly successful on the stage, as was also the comedy. Fruits of Culture, which he wrote three years later, to be performed by his own family and their friends. The only other play published during his lifetime. The First Distiller, is a very slight piece of no par- ticular dramatic importance. It was written in the cause of temperance. Besides these, he left three other plays finished, or nearly finished, when he died. The Live Corpse (which in English has also been called The Man who mas Dead) is the one best adapted for the stage. The Cause of it All is, like The First Distiller, a short and unimportant piece dealing with the effects of drink. The most interesting, not dramatically but psychologi- cally, of the three is The Light Shines in Darkness, which was left in an unfinished state. In it Tolstoy presents his own case, and deals with the contradiction that existed and has so often been commented on, between practice and theory in his own life and teaching. For the purpose of the play he greatly simplified his own highly complex personality, and, though many of the details and characters are drawn from life with extra- ordinary exactitude, the picture presented is not one which all the people concerned are disposed to regai-d as quite fair to themselves. X Preface The play presents the terrible clash which resulted from the calls Tolstoy made on himself and on others to abandon all customary ways of life and to start afresh m a new direction. In his own case he was never allowed to test the eflfects of a life of extreme poverty and manual labour, such as he advocated ; nor did those of his followers who adopted such a life achieve much success therein. Tolstoy's artistic sincerity is indeed shown by the fact that, despite his spiritual fervour and his profound con- iriction that he had really found the road to salvation for mankind, Jie has not, in this play, minimised the .feUure of his efforts to caiTy'convTcHonF'to~tThose aboutj^^ to achieve any other success than that of obtaining an inward assurance that Tie was fulfilling the wilT^oT^jGod. This assurance would, no doubt, have been more fully in- dicated in the last act, had he lived to complete it. Tolstoy was well aware of the advantages a play possesses over a novel as a means of propaganda, and but for the existence of the Censorship he would have written more for the stage. When asked, in 1892, whether he would write any more plays, he replied : " I would do so with great pleasure, and I even feel a special need to express myself in that way ; but I feel certain the Censor would not pass my plays. You would not believe how, from the very commencement of my actiWty, that horrible Censor question has tormented me ! I wanted to write what I felt ; but at the same time I felt that what I wrote would not be permitted ; and involun- tarily I abandoned the work. I abandoned, and went on abandoning, and meanwhile the years passed away." There is one other matter of some importance on which I must here say a word. No accepted standard of transliteration for Russian names into English has hitherto existed. Each writer has been a law unto himself Now, at last, the Liverpool Preface xi School of Russian Studies has prepared and privately cir- culated a scheme, which deserves to be, and is likely to be, . generally adopted. It differs in some particulars from the plan I have followed heretofore ; but the advantage to Anglo-Russian literature of the general adoption of a uniform and authoritative rule will be so great that I hasten to put myself in accord with the Liverpool scheme, without even waiting for it to be publicly promulgated. The result of so doing however is that in the three earlier plays now reprinted from stereotype plates the transliteration does not quite coincide with the plan adopted in the three freshly translated plays. For this discrepancy I must ask the readers' kind indulgence. THE POWER OF DARKNESS OR IF A CLAW IS CAUGHT THE BIRD IS LOST A DRAMA IN FIFE ACTS (1886) CHARACTERS I PETEB ignXtitch. A well-to-do peasant, 42 years old, married for the second time, and sickly. , ANfsYA. His wife, 32 years old, fond of dress. ' AKOiTLiNA. Peter's daughter by his first marriage, 16 years old, hard of hearing, mentally undeveloped. NAN (anna petbovna). His daughter by his second marriage, 10 years old. t nikIta. Their labourer, 25 years old, fond of dress. ^ AKiM. Nikita's father, 50 years old, a plain-looking. God-fearing peasant. a matry6na. Sis wife and Nikita's mother, 60 years old. MABfNA. An orphan girl, 22 years old. MARTHA. Peter's sister. » MiTBiTCH. An old labourer, ex-soldier, SIMON. Marina's husband. BBiDEGBOOM. Engaged to Akoulina. ivjCn. His father. A NEIGHBOUR. PIBST GIBL. SECOND GIBL. POLICE OFFICER, DBIVEB. BEST-MAN. MATCHMAKER. VILLAGE ELDER. VISITORS, WOMEN, GIRLS, AND PEOPLE come to See the wedding, N.B.— The' oven' mentioned is the usual large, brick, Russian baking-oven. The top of it outside is flat, so that more than one person can lie on it THE POWER OF DARKNESS ACT I The Act takes place in autumn in a large village. The Scene represents Peters roomy hut. Peter is sitting on a wooden bench, mending a horse-collar. Anisya and Akoulina are spinning, and singing a part-song. PETER \loolcing out of the window] The horses have got loose again. If we don't look out they'll be killing the colt. Nikita! Hey, Nikita ! Is the fellow deaf.? \L,istens. To the women] Shut up, one can't hear anything. NIKITA [from outside"] What ? PETER. Drive the horses in. NIKITA. We'll drive 'em in. All in good time. PETER [shaking his head] Ah, these labourers ! If I were well, I'd not keep one on no account. There's nothing but bother with 'em. [Rises and sits down again] Nikita ! . . . It's no good shouting. One of you'd better go. Go, Akoiil, drive 'em in. AKouLfNA. What ? The horses .'' PETER. What else .'' AKOULINA. All right. [£a;j/]. PETER. Ah, but he's a loafer, that lad ... no good at all. Won't stir a finger if he can help it. ANfsYA. You're so mighty brisk yourself. When you're not sprawling on the top of the oven you're squatting on the bench. To goad others to work is all you're fit for. PE'j'ER. If one weren't to goad you on a bit, one 'd 3 4 The Power of Darkness have no roof left over one's head before the year's out. Oh what people ! ANiSYA. You go shoving a dozen jobs on to one's shouldersj and then do nothing but scold. It's easy to lie on the oven and give orders. PETER [sighing] Oh, if 'twere not for this sickness that's got hold of me, I'd not keep him on another day. AKOULiNA [off the scene] Gee up, gee, woo. [A colt neighs, the stamping of horses' feet and the creaking of the gate are heard]. PETER. Bragging, that's what he's good at. I'd like to sack him, I would indeed. ANISYA [mimicking him] " Like to sack him." You buckle to yourself, and then talk. AKOULfNA [enters] It's all I could do to drive 'em in. That piebald always will . . . PETER. And where's Nikita .'' AKOULINA. Where's Nikita .' Why, standing out there in the street. PETER. What's he standing there for ? AKOULINA. What's he standing there for.^" He stands there jabbering. PETER. One can't get any sense out of her ! Who's he jabbering with .'' AKOULINA [does tiot hear] Eh, what } Peter waves her off. She sits dorm to her spinning. NAN [running in to her mother] Nikfta's father and mother have come. They're going to take him away. It's true I ANISYA. Nonsense ! NAN. Yes. Blest if they're not! [Laughing] I was just going by, and Nikita, he says, "Good-bye, Anna Petrdvna," he says, "you must come and dance at my wedding. I'm leaving you," he says, and laughs. ANISYA [to her husband] There now. Much he cares. You see, he wants to leave of himself. " Sack him " indeed ! The Power of Darkness 5 PETER. Wellj let him go. Just as if I couldn't find somebody else. ANisYA. And what about the money he's had in advance ? Nan stands listening at the door for awhile, and then exit. PETER [frowning] The money f Well, he can work it off in summer, anyhow. ANISYA. Well, of course you'll be glad if he goes and you've not got to feed him. It's only me as'U have to work like a horse all the winter. That lass of yours isn't over fond of work either. And you'll be lying up on the oven. I know you. PETER. What's the good of wearing out one's tongue before one has the hang of the matter!' ANisYA. The yard's full of cattle. You've not sold the cow, and have kept all the sheep for the winter : feeding and watering 'em alone takes all one's time, and you want to sack the labourer. But I tell you straight, I'm not' going to do a man's work ! I'll go and lie on the top of the oven same as you, and let everything go to pot ! You may do what you like. PETER [to Akoulina] Go and see about the feeding, will you } it's time. AKOULINA. The feeding ? All right. . [Puts on a coat and takes a rope]. ANISYA. I'm not going to work for you. You go and work yourself. I've had enough of it, so there ! PETER. That'll do. What are you raving about } Like a sheep with the staggers ! ANfsYA. You're a crazy cur, you are ! One gets neither work nor pleasure from you. Eating your fill, that's all you do, you palsied cur, you ! PETER [spits and puts on coat] Faugh ! The Lord have mercy ! I'd better go myself and see what's up. [£;«'<]. ANfsYA [after him] Scurvy long-nosed devil ! AKOULJNA. What are you swearing at dad for ? 6 The Power of Darkness ANi'sYA. Hold your noise, you idiot ! akouli'na [going to the door] I know why you're swear- ing at him. You're an idiot yourself, you bitch. I'm not afraid of you. ANiSYA. What do you mean ? [Jumps up and looks round for something to hit her with] Mind, or I'll give you one with the poker. AKOULiNA [opening the door] Bitch ! devil ! that's what you are ! Devil I bitch ! bitch ! devil ! [Runs off]. ANISYA [ponders] " Come and dance at my wedding ! " What new plan is this ? Marry ? Mind, Nikita, if that's your intention, I'll go and . . . No, I can't live without him. I won't let him go. ' NIKITA [enters, looks round, and seeing Anisya alone approaches quickly. In a low tone] Here's a go ; I'm in a regular fix ! That governor of mine wants to take me away, — tells me I'm to come home. Says quite straight I'm to marry and live at home. ANisvA. Well, go and marry ! What's that to me ? NIKITA. Is that it } Why, here am I ^reckoning how best to consider, matters, and just hear JjerTTShe tells yi me to go and marry. Why's that .'' [ WinMng] Has she ^* forgotten.'' """SSfeyarf-Yes, go and marry ! What do I care ? NIKITA. What are you .spitting for .'' Just see, she won't evenjetjne stroke her. . . . What's the matter.'' ANISYA. This ! That you want to play me false. ... If you do, — why, I don't want you either. So now you know ! niki'ta. That'll do, Anisya. Do you think I'll forget you .'' Never while I live ! I'll not play you falsCj that's flat. I've been thinkiiig that .supposing they do go and make me marry, I'd still come ^back to yoUi_Jf.only he don't make me live at home. ANISYA. Much need I'll have of you, once y ou're nnar ried. NIKITA. There's a go now. How is it possible to go against one's father's will ? The Power of Darkness 7 ANisYA. Yes, I daresay, shove it all on your father. You know-ilL&^ou,r.Qi3Kiulai»g. You've-long^beeirplotting with that slut of ,XQ.urSjLJIaotna„r. It's she has put you up to it. She didn't come here for nothing t'other day. NiKiTA. Manna .? What's she to me? 'Much I care about her ! . . . Plenty of them buz2dng around. ANisYA. Then what has made your father come here.? It's you have told him to. You've gone and deceived me. [CWe*]. '~ NiKiTA. Anisya, do you believe in a God or not .'' I never so much as dreamt of it. I kijojsunijlhmg-^ all about it. I never even dreamt of it — that's flat ! My old dad has got it all out of his own pate. ANISYA. If you don't wish it yourself who can force you } He can't drive you like an ass. NiKfTA. Well, I reckon it's not possible to go against one's parent. But it's not by my wish. ANISYA. Don't you budge, that's all about it ! nikIta. There was a fellow wouldn't budge, and the village elder gave him such a hiding. . . . That's what it might come to ! I've no great wish for that sort of thing. They say it touches one up. . . . ANISYA. Shut up with your nonsense. Nikita, listen to me : if you marry that Marina I don't kno3i _what I won't do to nyKfiUL*- . • I shall lay.iiaiads.,.5a.jB.ysei£i_J-hiave sinneC-l-haye^oBe 'against the law, but I •can't-gQ. back now. -If- you go- away I'll . , . NIKITA. Why should I go ? Had I wanted to go — I should have gone long ago. There was ~ Ivan"?em- yonitch t'other day— offered me a place as his coach- man. . . . Only fancy what a life that would have been ! But I did not go. Because, I reckon, I am good enough for any one. Now if you did not love me it would be a different matter. ANfsYA. Yes, and that's what you should remember. My old man will die <)ne-ofJJiese_£li£LjdajcSri'j3aJhinkiBg; 8 The Power of Darkness then we could cover our sjnvinakeit jiJX rightand lawful, and^then yonlltie master here, NiKfTA. Where's the good of making plans? What do I care ? I work as hard as if I were doing it for myself. My master loves me, and his missus loves me. And if the wenches run after me, it's ^'^^ "^Y fault, that's flat. ANiSYA. And you'll love me ? NiKiTA [embracing her] 'There, as yoa have CYcr been in my heart ^_^ . matry6na [enters, and crosses herself a long time before the ic6n. Nikita and Anisya step apart] What I saw I didn't perceive, what I heard I didn't hearken to. Playing with the lass, eh ? Well, — even a calf will play. Why shouldn't one have some fun when one's young } But your master is out in the yard a-calling you, sonnie. NiKiTA. I only came to get the axe. matry6na. I know, sonnie, I know ; them sort of axes are mostly to be found where the women are. NiKiTA [stooping to pick up axe] I say, mother, is it true you want me to marry } As I reckon, that's quite un- necessary. Besides, I've got no wish that way. matry6na. Eh, honey ! why should you marry .'' Go on as you are. It's all the old man. You'd better go, sonnie, we can talk these matters over without you. NiKfTA. It's a queer go ! One moment I'm to be married, the next, not. I can't make head or tail of it. [£a:ii]. ANfsYA. What's it all about then .' Do you really wish him to get married .'' matry6na. Eh, why should he marry, my jewel .'' It's all nonsense, all my old man's drivel. " Marry, marry." But he's reckoning without his host. You know the saying, " From oats and hay, why should horses stray } " When you've enough and to spare, why look elsewhere .'' And so in this case. [^iraA'*] Don't I see which way the wind blows .'' anisya. Where's the good-af-joy^jretea diu^ l o - you. The Power of Darkness 9 Mother Matry6na ? You^Jsnow _all__ahoiit--it-.— ' I have sinned^ ^ lo^your*son. matry6na. Dear me^ hexe's newsX^ D jpu .thmk.Msther Matry W •z < a o H & O w H o H The Power of Darkness 13 Peter Igndtitch., You know our povertyj Peter Ignatitch. What's he to marry on? We've hardly enough to eat ourseTvesr~~-iI«w-«an heraa«y then ? . . . PETER. You must consider what will be best. matry6na. Where's the hurry for him to get married ? Marriage is not that sort of thing, it's not like ripe rasp- berries that drop off if not picked in time. PETER. If he were to get married, 'twould be a good thing in a way. AKiM. We'd like to . . . what d'you call it .-' 'Cos why, you see. I've what d'you call it ... a job. I mean, I've found a paying job in town, you know. matry6na. And a fine job too — cleaning out cesspools. The other day Hdien he ,.eSme ho"me, I could do nothing but spew, and spew. Faugh ! AKIM. It's true, at first it does seem what d'you call it . . . knocks one clean over, you know, — the smell, I mean. But one gets used to it, and then it's nothing, no worse than malt grain, and then it's, what d'you call it, . . . pays, pays, I mean. And as to the smell being, what d'you call it, it's not for the likes of us to complain. And one changes one's clothes. So we'd like to take what's his name . . . Nikita I mean, home. Let him manage things at home while I, what d'you call it, — earn some- thing in town. PETER. You want to keep your son at home ? Yes, that would be well : but how about the money he has had in advance ? AKIM. That's it, that's it ! It's just as you say, Igndtitch, it's just what d'you call it. 'Cos why ? If you go into service, it's as good as if you had sold yourself, they say. That will be all right. I mean he may stay and serve his time, only he must, what d'you call it, get married. I mean — so : you let him off for a little while, that he may, what d'you call it ? PETER. Yes, we could manage that. 14 The Power of Darkness MATRYdNA. Ah, but it's not yet settled between our- selves, Peter Igndtitch. I'll speak to you as I would before God, and you may judge between my old man and me. He goes on harping, on -tfeat-onarriage.^ But just ask — who it is he wants him to marry. If it, were a girl of the right sort now — I am not my child's eiiemy, but the wench is not honest. AKiM. No, that's wrong ! Wrong, I say. 'Cos why.? She, that same.girl — it's my son as Has" bff'eiided, offended the girl I mean. PETER. How offended ? AKIM. That's how. She's what d'you call it, with him, with my son, Nikita. With Nikita, what d'you call it, I mean. matry6na. You wait a bit, my tongue runs smoother — let me tell it. You know, this lad of ours lived at the railway before he came to you. There was a girl there as kept dangling after him. A girl of no account, you know, her name's Marina. She used jto cook for the roen. So now this same girl accuses our son, Nikita, that he,, so to say, deceived her. PETER. Well, there's nothing good in that. matry6na. But she's no honest girl herself ;. she runs after the fellows like a common slut. AKiM. There yoii are again, old woman, and it's not at all what d'you call it, it's all not what d'you call it, I mean . . . matry6na. There now, that's all the sense one gets from my old owl — "what d'you call it, what d'you call it," and he doesn't know himself what he means. Peter Ignatitch, don't listen to me, but go yourself and ask any one you like about the girl, everybody will say the same. She's just a homeless good-fetc-nothing. peter. You know, Daddy^ Akim, Jf.4hatj_JiflK_things are, there's no seaseirfiaeJii5n^|a.jmarry her. A daughter- in-law's not like a shoe, you can't ki^^^er oflF. \^- The Power of Darkness 15 AKiM [excitedly] It's false, old woman, it's what d'you call it, false ; I mean, about the girl ; false ! 'Cos why ? The lass is a^odJlassj-^-v«i»y-goed~iasSy,yQttJinow. I'm sorry, sorry for the lassie, I mean. MAiiw^Nsr' If s an old saying: "For the wide world old Miriam grieves, aHd"'at home without bread her children she leaves." He's sorryjor Jhe.. gid^-^bat-not sorry for his own son ! Sling her round your neck and carry hef'abtrnt~«ith-you ! That's enough of such empty cackle ! AKIM. No, it's not empty. matry6na. There, don't interrupt, let me have my say. AKIM [interrupts] No, not empty ! I mean, you twist things your own way, about the lass or about yourself. Twist them, I mean, tojmals£..iL-hettejLfor yourself; but God, vrhafd'yoircairit, turns them His way. "That's how it is. matry6na. Eh ! One only wears out one's tongue with you. AKIM. The lass is hard-working and spruce, and keeps everything round herself . . . what d'you call it. And in our poverty, you know, it's a pair of hands, I mean ; and the wedding needn't cost much. But _the chief thinglsJJi£;.^fence, the offence to the lass, and she's a what d'you call it, aiforpKan, you linow; that's what she is, and there's the offence. matry6na. Eh ! they'll all tell you a tale of that sort . . . ANfsYA. Daddy Akim, you'd better listen to us women ; we can tell you a thing or two. AKIM. And God, how about God .'' Isn't she a human being, the lass .'' A what d'you call it, — also a human being I meanj-b«ore God. And how do you look at it .'' matry6na. Eh ! . . . started off again ? . . . PETER. Wait a bit. Daddy Akim. One can't believe all these girls say, either. The lad's alive, and not far away ; send for him, and find out straight from him if it's true. 1 6 The Power of Darkness He won't wish to lose his soul. Go and call the fellow, [Anisya rises] and tell him his father wants him. [E,Tit Anisya\. matry6na. That's right, dear friend; you've cleared the way clean, as with water. Yes, let the lad speak for himself. Nowadays, you know, they'll not let you force a son to marry ; one must,Juat--©£-a]J,,j;Sk^thg4ad. He'll never consent to marry her and disgrace himself, not for all the world. To my thinking,, it's best he should go on living with you and-serving . jou as his niasfer. ^AHa- we need not take him home for the summer either ; we can hire a help. If you would only give us ten roubles now, we'll let him stay on. PETER. All in good time. First let us settle one thing before we start another, AKiM. You see, Peter Ignatitch, I speak. 'Cos why.'' you know how it happens. We try to fix things up as seems best for ourselves, you know ; and as to God, we what d'you call it, we forget Him. We think it's best so, turn it our own way, and lo ! we've got into a fix, you know. We think it will be best, I mean ; and lo ! it turns out much worse — without God, I mean. PETER. Of c9J«se.-kJJiat^prt of thing. PETER. Well, you'll have some tea?? AKIM. Ah, tea.LyeSj T do sin that way>^ Yes, tea's the thing. PETER. And the women will also have some tea. Come. 20 The Power of Darkness And yoti, Nikita, go and drive the slieep in and clear away the straw. NIKITA. All right. [Exeunt all but Nikita. Nikita lights a cigarette. It grows darker] Just see how they bother one. Want a fellow to tell 'em how he larks about with the wenches ! It would take long to tell 'em all those stories— " Marry her," he says. Marry them all! One would.haye a goocTTdrTrf^wives-! — Aird-"what need have I to marry? Am as good a:s niamedl-„jio-w-i — There's many a chap as envies me. Yet how strange it felt when I crossed myself before the icon. It wjis just.,as. if some one shoved me. The whole web fell -to pieces at once. "Thiey-say,, it's frightening to swear what's not true. That's all humbug. It's all talk, that is. It's simple enough. AKouuNA [enters with a rope, which she puts down. She takes off her otttdoor things and goes into closet] You might at least have got a light. NIKITA. What, to look at you? I can see you well enough without. AKOUUNA. Oh, bother you ! Nan enters and whispers to Nikita. NAN. Nikita, there's a person wants you. There is ! NIKITA. What person ? NAN. Marina from the railway ; she's out there, round the corner. NIKITA. Nonsense ! NAN. Blest if she isn't ! NIKITA. What does she want ? NAN. She wants you to come out. She says, " I only want to say a word to Nikita." I began asking, but she won't tell, but only says, " Is it true he's leaving you ? " And I say, " No, only-feis.iather wantedJoJakS-hiniaway^ and^ggt Jnm to marry, but Jie won't, andis_going_ta..stS!y with us anotSet year." And she^'says, "For goodness' sake -sfend him out to me. I must see him," she says, " I The Power of Darkness 21 must say a word to him somehow." She's been waiting a long time. Why don't you go ? NiKiTA. Bother her ! What should I go for ? NAN. She says, " If he don't come, I'll go into the hut to him." Blest if she didn't say she'd come in ! NIKITA. Not likely. She'll wait a bit and then gc away. NAN. " Or is it/' shesaj§,JlJih3L^^£fJmiilldm.iDJMaxiy- Akoulina ?_S—^ "/ Renter AkouUna, passing near Nikita to take her distaff. Akoulina. Marry-^whom-to-Akoiittia ? NAN. Why, Nikit^. AKOULINA. A likely thing ! Whosa,ysit? NIKITA \loolcs at her and laughs'] It seems people do say it. Would you rnaixyjuej-Akottl-iaa-?' AKOULINA. Who, you } Perhaps I might have afore, but I won't now. NIKITA. And why not now .'' AKOULINA. 'Cos-^u. wouldHit4©v«--me. NIKITA. Why not .'' AKOULINA. 'Cos you'd be forbiddenJgJ^, [Laughs'], NiKiTA. Who'd forbid it .'' AKouLfNA. Who ? My step-mother. She does nothing but grumble, and is atw^s staring at you. NIKITA [laughing] Just hear her ! Ain't she cute .'' AKouLiNA. Who .'' Me .'' What's there to be cute about ? Am I blind .'' She's been rowing and rowing at dad all day. The fat-muzzled witch ! \Goes into closet], NAN \looking out of the windoru] Look, Nikita, she's com- ing ! I'm blest if she isn't ! I'll go away. [Exit], MARINA [enters] What are you doing-with me } NIKITA. Doing } I'm nofSoing anything. MARINA. You mean to d^eserjjgoe. NIKITA \gei»^up"m^rily] What does this look like, youi coming here ^ MARINA. Oh, Nikita ! 22 The Power of Darkness NiKiTA. Well, you are strange ! What have you come for? MARINA. Nikita ! NIKITA. That's my name. What do you want with Nikfta ? Well, what next ? Go away, I tell you ! MARINA. I see, you do wai\t to throw me over. NIKITA. Well, and what's there to remember.? You yourself don't know.y> When youjstood qut^there round the corner and. seip Nan for me, and I didn't come, wasn't it plain eaough-tbat you're- not wanted"?" It Seems pretty simple. So there — go ! MARINA. Not wanted! So. now I'm not- -wanted ! I believed you when you said you would love me. And now that you've ruined me, I'm not wanted. NIKITA. Whei'e's the"good-of talking? This is quite improper. You've been telling tales to father. Now, do go away, will you .'' MARINA. You know yourself I never loved any one but you. Whether you married me or not, I'd not have been angry. I'vef done you no, wrong, then why have you left off, caririg for .me'■^^"'V^hy ? " " *"* ' ^~— NIKITA. Where's the use of baying at the moon ? You go away. Goodness me ! what a duffer ! MARINA. It's not that you deceived me when you pro- mised to many me tlialTiiiiTOT^Ht'that yotTve left ofFloving. No, it's""^n6ttMt" you've stopped" loving me either, but that yotfve changed me for another, that's what hurts. I know who. it is ! NiKiTA [comes up to her viciously\ Eh ! what's the good of talking to the likes of you, that won't listen to reason .'' Be off, or you'll drive me to do something you'll be sorry for. MARINA. What, will you strike me, then ? Well then, strike me ! What are you turning away for .' Ah, Nikita ! NIKITA. Supposing some one came in. Of course, it's quite improper. And what's the good of talking? The Power of Darkness 23 MARINA. So this is the end of it ! What has been has flown. You want me to forget it?y Well then, Nikita, listen. I kept my, maiden honour-as the apple of my eye. You have ruinedSae«|i5BiJa<4^Migji^^jo'u''have' deceived me. Yott-4Mwie— HTypitJf on a fatherless_J^»d.»iMothgrfSSis_^girii„ [Weeping] You have"'d:SCTted7y«iu,Jiave killed me, but I bear you no malice. God forgiy.e you Y Tf you find a better one you'll forget me, if a worse one you'll remeipatrer-nier Yes, you will remember, Nikita ! "Good- bye, th"€nrrf~if is to be. Oh, how I loved you ! Good- bye for the last time. [Takes his head in her hands and tries to kiss him\. NIKITA [tossing his head back] I'm not going to talk with the likes of you. If you won't go away I will, and you may stay here by yourself. MARINA [screams] You are _a.^iite, - -[ira the doorway] God,j>4H-5ive'you no joy. [Exit, crying]. AKOULiNA [comes out of closet] You're a dog, Nikita ! NIKITA. What's up ? AKOULINA. What a cry she gave ! [Cne*]. NIKITA. What's up with you .'' AKOULINA. What's up? You've hurt her so. That's the way you'lF4Hi'i*«Biff-lffs£"--"-"¥ott?S6:::^«^^g. [Exit into closet]. '' Silence. NIKITA. Here's a fine muddle. I'm as sweet as honey on the lasses, but when a fellow's sinned with 'em it's a bad look-out ! Curtain. ACT II The scene represents the village street. To the left the outside of Peter's hut, built of logs, ivith a porch in the middle, to the right of the hut the gates and a comer of the yard buildings. Anisya is beating hemp in the street near the comer of the yard. Six months have elapsed since the First Act. ANISYA [stops and listens] Mumbling something again. He's probably got off the stove. Akoulina enters, carrying two pails on a yoke. ANISYA. He's calling. You go and see what he wants, kicking up such a row. AKOULINA. Why don't you go } ANISYA. Go, I tell you ! [Exit Akoulina into hut~\ He's bothering me to death. Won't let out where the motiey is, and that's all about it. He was out in the passage the other day. He must have been hiding it there. Now, I don't know myself where it is. Thank goodness he's afraid of parting with it, so that at least it will stay in the house. If only I could manage to find it. He hadn't it on him yesterday. Now I don't know where it can be. He has quite worn the life out of me. Enter Akoulina, tying her kerchief oner her head. ANISYA. Where are you off to ? AKOULINA. Where .'' Why, he's told me to go for Aunt Martha. " Fetch my sister," ^h^e^sajs^ " I am going ta die," he says. ^^TTiffPe'ft-wordJo^saj^oTier.''" ANfsYA [aside\ Asking for his sister?,^jQh„my po(»-faeaH ! The Power of Darkness 25 Sure-4)je j^ants to^ ve it her. What shall I do ? Oh ! [To Akoulind] TTont^O-^r'yVheTe are you off to ? AKOXM,iNA. To call Aunt. ANisYA. Don't go I tell you^ I'll go myself. You go and take the clothes to the river to rinse. Else you'll not have finished by the evening. AKOULINA. But he told me to go. ANISYA. You go and do as you're bid. I tell vou I'll fetch_Martli3^j3aysfil£....^Xake]raie'Sl^^ AKOULINA. ^he shirts .'' But maybe you'll not go. He's given the order. ~ " ANISYA. Didn't I say I'd go? Where's Nan? AKOULINA. Nan .'' Minding the calves. ANISYA. Send her here. I dare say they'll not run away. [Akoulina collects the clothes, and exit]. ANISYA. If one doesn't go he'll scold. If one goes he'll give the money to his sister. All my trouble will be wasted. I don't myself know what I'm to do. My poor head's splitting. [Continues to work]. Enter Matry6na, with a stick and a bund,le, in outdoor clothes. matry6na. May the Lord help you, honey. ANISYA [looks round, stops working, and claps her hands with joy] Well, I never expected this ! Mother Matry6na, God has sent the right guest at the right time. matry6na. Well, how are things .'' ANISYA. Ah, I'm driven well-nigh crazy. It's awful ! matry6na. Well, still alive, I hear ? ANISYA. Oh, don't talk about it. He doesn't live and doesn't die ! matry6na. But the money — has he given it to anybody ? ANISYA. He's just sending for his sister Martha — pro- bably about the money. matry6na. Well, naturally ! But hasn't he given it to any one else ? ANISYA. To no one. I watch like a hawk. 26 The Power of Darkness matry6na. And where is it ? ANisYA. He doesn't let out. And I can't find out in any way. He hides it now here, now there, and I can't do anything because of Akoulina. Idiot though she is, she keeps watch, and is always about. Oh my poor head ! I'm bothered to death. matry6na. Oh, my jewel, if he gives the money to any one but you, you'll never cease regretting it as long as you live ! They'll turn you out ef house and home without anything. You've been jworritin^and worriting all your life with one you don't love, and will have to go a-begging when you are a widow. ANISYA. No need to tell me, mother. My heart's that weary, and I don't know what to do. No one to get a bit of advice from. I told Nikita, but he's frightened of the job. The only thing he did was to tell me yesterday it was hidden under the floor. matry6na. Well, and did you look there .'' ANfsYA. I couldn't. The old man himself was in the room. I notice that sometimes he carries it about on him, and sometimes he hides it. matry6na. But you, my lass, must remember that if once he gives you the slip there's no getting it right again ! [ Whispering\ Well, and did you give him tjie strong tea ? ANISYA. Oh ! oh ! . . , [About to answer, hut sees neighbour and stops'l. The neighbour (a woman) passes the hut, and listens to a call from within. NEIGHBOUR [to Anisyo] I say, Anisya ! Eh, Anisya ! There's your old man calling, I think. ANISYA. That's the way he always coughs, — just as if he were screaming. He's getting very bad. NEIGHBOUR [approaches Mairy6na\ How do you do, granny ? Have you come far ? matry6na. Straight from home, dear. Come to see my The Power of Darkness 27 son. Brought him some shirts — can't help thinking of these things, you see, when it's one's own child. NEIGHBOUR. Yes, that's always so. [To Anisi/a] And I was thinking of beginning to bleach the linen, but it is a bit early, no one has begun yet. ANfsYA. Where's the hurry ? MATRy6NA. Well, and has he had communion .'' ANisYA. Oh dear yes, the priest was here yesterday. NEIGHBOUR. I had a look at him yesterday. Dearie me ! one wonders his body and soul keep together. And, O Lord, the other day he seemed just at his last gasp, so that they laid him under the holy ic6ns.i They started lamenting and got ready to lay him out. ANISYA. He came to, and creeps about again. matry6na. Well, and is he to have extreme unction ? ANisYA. The neighbours advise it. If he lives till to- morrow we'll send for the priest. NEIGHBOUR. Oh, Anisya dear, I should think your heart must be heavy. As the saying goes, "Not he is sick that's ill in bed, but he that sits and waits in dread." ANi'sYA. Yes, if it were only over one way or other ! NEIGHBOUR. Yes, that's trug,_jlj!iDg~fo¥~»~y«4r, it's no joke. You're boundTiand and foot like that. , «aTirS15frar-tA1l7fiut a' widoW^s lot is also bitter. It's all right as long as one's young, but who'll care for you when you're old ? Oh yes, old age is not pleasure. Just look at me. I've not walked very far, and yet am so footsore I don't know how to stand. Where's my son ? ANISYA. Ploughing. But you come in and we'll get the samovar ready ; the tea'U set you up again. matry6na [silling down\ Yes, it's true, I'm quite done up, my dears. As to extreme unction, that's a,)t).s,p]utely neces- sary. Besides, they say iFs good for the soul. anisya. Yes, we'll send to-morrow. * It is customary to place a dying person under the icdn. One or more icdns hang in the hut of each Orthodox peasant. 28 The Power of Darkness matry6na. YeSo you had better. And we've had a wedding down in our parts. NEIGHBOUR. What, in spring?^ matry6na. Ahj now if it were a poor man, then, as the saying is, it's always unseasonable for a poor man to marry. But it's Simon Matveyitch, he's married that -Marina. ANis1?lsr-WhatluaE"for lier ! NEIGHBOUR. Hc's awlH^fer., Isuppos&there^rechildren? matry6na. Four of 'em. What decgnt girl would have him ! WelVso he^'s tak^nher, and she's-glad: -You see, the vessel was _not sound, so the wine trickled out. NEIGHBOUR. Oh my! And what do people say to it? And he, a rich peasant ! matrt6na. They are living well enough so far. NEIGHBOUR. Yes, it's true enough. Who wants to marry where there are children.? There now, there's our Michael. He's such a fellow, dear me . . . peasant's VOICE. Hullo, Mavra. Where the devil are you .'' Go and drive the cow in. Exit Neighbour. matry6na \while the Neighbour is within hearing speaks in her ordinary voicel Y§s, lass, thank goodness, she's married. At any rate mW old fool won't go bothering about Nikita. Now [suddenly chan^ng her tone], she's gone ! [Whispers] I say, did yoU give him the tea } ANisYA. Don't speak about it. He'd better, die of himself. It's no use — he do-in3~wKat have I gong and done r """ ANISYA. Enough now 1^— Wherej_the jmoney i NIKITA [angrily] How should I know ? Go and look for it yourself! ^ A formal request for forgiveness is customary among Eussiaus, but it is often no mere formality. Nikita's first reply is evasive ; his second reply, " God will forgive you," is the correct one sanc- tioned by custom. The Power of Darkness 35 ANfsYA. What's made you so tender ? NiKiTA. I^arCLSOHy-for^Haj — fehat-sany.— JJew- he . cried !■ Oh dear ! ANisYA. Look at him, — seized with pity ! He has found someone to pity too ! He's been^tre^ng you like a dog, and even just now was giving orders to have^yoU "turned out of the house". ""Yotfd.jjetter show me some pity ! NIKITA. What are you .tobe^^itied iSr?™™"" ANISYA. If fie dies, and the money's been hidden away . . . niki'ta. No fear, he'll not hide it . . . ANISYA. Oh, Nikita darling ! he's sent for his sister, and wants to give it to her. It will be a bad lookout for us. How are we going to live, if he gives her the money .'' They'll turn me out of the house ! You try and manage somehow ! You said he went to the shed last night. NiKfTA, I saw him coming from there, but where he's shoved it to, who can tell } ANISYA. Oh, my poor head ! I'll go and have a look there. \_NiMta steps aside]. matry6na [comes out of the hut and dorvn the steps of the porch to ^dni^a and Nikita] Don't go anywhere. He's gotjiKe-'money on him^~ I iiglt it on~ars^ringr-S5na~his neck. "" -->'■' ANfsYA. Oh my head, my head ! mairy6na. If you don't keep wide awake now, then you may whistle for it. If his sister comes — then good- bye to it ! ANISYA. That's true. She'll come and he'll give it her. What's to be done ? Oh my poor head ! matry6na. What is to be done ? Why, look here : the samovar is boiling, go and make the tea and pour him out a cup, and then [whispers] put in all that's left in, the paper. When he's drunk the cup, then just take it. He'll not tell, no fear. ANisYA. Oh ! I'm afeared ! 36 The Power of Darkness matry6na. Don't be talking now, but look alive, and I'll keep his sister off if need be. Mind, don't make a blunder ! Get hold of the money and bring it here, and Nikita will hide it. ANisYA. Oh mxJi*3il,..mJj!i-heftd-! ""i-idon^-kntywliow I'm going to . . , matry6na. Don't talk about it I tell you, do as I bid you. Nikita ! nikita. What is it .'' matry6na. You stay here — sit down — in case some- thing is wanted. NIKITA [waves his hand] Oh these women, what won't they be up to } Muddle one up completely. Bother them ! I'll really go and fetch out the potatoes. matry6na [catches him hy the arm] Stay here, I tell you. Nan enters. ANISYA. Well ? NAN. She was down in her daughter's vegetable plot — she's coming. ANISYA. Coming ! What shall we do ? mathy6na. There's plenty of time if you do as I tell you. ANISYA. I don't know what to do ; I know nothing, my brain's all in a whirl. Nan ! Go, daughter, and see to the calves, they'll have run away, I'm afraid. . . . Oh dear, I haven't the courage. matry6na. Go on ! I should think the samovar's boil- ing over. ANISYA. Oh my head, my poor head ! [firj^]. matry6na [approaches Nifctia] Now then, sonnie. [Sits down beside him] Your affairs must also be thought about, and not left anyhow. NIKITA. What affairs .'' matry6na. Why, this affair — how you're to live your Ufe. The Power of Darkness 37 NiKiTA. How to live my life ? Others live, and I shall live ! matry6na. The old man will probably die to-day. NIKITA, Well, if he dies, God give him rest ! What's that to me ? matry6na \keeps looking towards the porch while she speaks^ Eh, sonnie ! Those that are alive have to think about living. One needs plenty of sense in these matters, honey. What do you think ? I've tramped all over the place after your affairs,' I've got quite footsore bothering about matters. And you must hot forget me when the time comes. NIKITA. And what's ityou've been bothering about ? matry6na. 4it>out you*" afSirsTaBouf^StfrfHture. If you don't take trouble iff'gbod tlnie ybuTl get nothing. You know Ivan Mos6itch ? Well, I've been to him too. I went there the other day. I had something else to settle, you know. Well, so I sat and chatted awhile and then came to the point. "Tell me, Ivan Moseitch," says I, " how's one to manage an affair of this kind } Sup- posing," says I, "a. peasant as is a widower married a second wife, and supposing all the children he has is a daughter by the first wife, and a daughter by the second. Then," says I, " when that peasant dies, could an outsider get hold 'of the h6meirtead'''By™in8rfyIng the 'widow.'' Could he," says I, "give both,., the daughters in marriage arid remain master of the house himself?" "Yes, he could," says he, "but," says he, '5.it would . mean a deal of trouble ; still the-fTring could be managed by means of money, but if there's no money it's no good trying." '■^ItdtX [laughs] That goes without saying, "only fork out the money. Who does not want money ? matry6na. Well then, honey, so I spoke out plainly about the affair. And he says, " First and foremost, your son will have to get himself on the register of that village — that will cost something. The elders will have to be 38 The Power of Darkness treated. And they, you see, they'll sign. Everything," says he, "must be done sensibly." Look, [unwraps her kerchief and takes out a paper] he's written out this paper; just read it, you're a scholar, you know. [Niktta reads], NiKiTA. This paper's only a decision for the elders to sign. There's no great wisdom needed for that. matrv6na. But you just hear-w;batjvan Mfiseitch bids us do. " Above all," he says, " mind .and 4on't let the money slip away7 dame. If she don't, get hold of the money," lie say sj" they'll not let her, do it. Money's the great thing ! "" Bo look out, sonnie, things are coming to a head. NIKITA. What's that to me ? The money's hers — so let her look out. matry6na. Ah, sonnie, how you look at it ! How can a woman manage such affairs ? Even if she does get the money, is she capable of arranging it all ? One knows what a woman is ! You're a man anyhow. You can hide it, and all that. You see, you've after all got more sense, in case of anything happening. NIKITA. Oh, your woman's notions ^e all so inexpedient ! MATRy6NA. Wj iy inex pedi ent? Yipu j ust collar Uie money, and the wojnan-'sin yourhands^— AadniheiLshouId she everTurh snagpjsli' you'd be able to\tighten the reins ! NiK.ixA. B6ther,^u all, — I'm going. ~ ANisYA [quite'pale, runs out of the hut and round the corner to MatryonaY So it was, it was on him ! Here it is ! [Shows that she hdsl^n&Mrt^wnSHf^-hW aproii]. matry6na. Give it to Nikita, he'll hide itj^^JJJikita, take it and hide it softiewnere. NIKITA. All right, give here ! ANISYA. 0-oh, my poor head ! No, I'd better do it myself. [Goes towards the gate]. matry6na [seizing her by the arm] Where are you going to ? You'll be missed. There's the sister coming ; give it him ; he knows what to do. Eh, you blockhead ! The Power of Darkness 39 ANfsYA [stops irresolutely] Oh, my head, my head ! NiKiTA. Well, give it here. I'll shove it away somewhere ANisYA. Where will you shove it to ? NIKITA [laughing] Why, are you afraid ? Enter Akoulina, carrying clothes from the wash. ANISYA. O-oh, my poor head ! [Gives the money] Mind, Niklta. NIKITA. What,are,X'3!»-*^a-> Myself now ; how I went on with fat living. I drank for three weeks without being The Power of Darkness 47 sober. I drank my last breeches. When I had nothing left, I gave it up. Now I've determined not to. Bother it! AKiM. And where's what d'you call, your old woman .'' MiTRiTCH. My old woman has found her right place, old fellow. She's hanging about the gin-shops in town. She's a swell too; one eye knocked out, and the other black, and her muzzle twisted to one side. And she's never sober ; drat her ! AKIM. Oh, oh, oh, how's that ? MITRITCH. And where's a soldier's wife to go ? She has found her right place. [Silence]. AKIM [to Anisya\ And Nikita, — has he what d'you call it, taken anything up to town ? I mean, anything to sell? ANfsYA [laying the table and serving up] No, he's taken nothing. He's gone to get money from the bank. AKIM [sitting down to supper] Why ? D'you wish to put it to another use, the money I mean ? ANisYA. No, we don't touch it. Only some twenty or thirty roubles as have come due ; they must be taken. AKIM. Must be taken. Why take it, the money I mean ? You'll take some to-day I mean, and some to- morrow ; and so you'll what d'you call it, take it all, I mean. ANISYA. We get this besides. The money is all safe. AKIM. All safe ? How's that, safe .'' You take it, and it what d'you call it, it's all safe. How's that .'' You put a heap of meal into a bin, or a barn, I mean, and go on taking meal, will it remain there what d'you call it, all safe I mean .? That's, what d'you call it, it's cheating. You'd better find out, or else they'll cheat you. Safe indeed ! I mean you what d'ye call . . . you take it and it remains all safe there .'' ANISYA. I know nothing about it. Ivdn Moseitch ad- vised us at the time. " Put the money in the bank," he 48 The Power of Darkness said, " the money will be safe, and you'll get interest," he said. MiTRiTCH [having finished his supper] That's so. I've lived with a tradesman. They all do like that. Put the money in the batik, then lie down on the oven and it will keep coming in. AKiM. That's queer talk. How's that — what d'ye call, coming in, how's that coming in, and they, who do they get it from I mean, the money I mean .'' ANisYA. They take the money out of the bank. MITRITCH. Get along ! 'Tain't a thing a woman can understand ! You look here, I'll make it all clear to you. Mind and remember. You see, suppose you've got some money, and I, for instance, have spring coming on, my land's idle, I've got no seeds, or I have to pay taxes. So, you see, I go to you. "Akim," I say, "give us a ten-rouble note, and when I've harvested in autumn I'll return it, and till two acres for you besides, for having obliged me ! " And you, seeing I've something to fall back on — a horse say, or a cow — you say, " No, give two or three roubles for the obligation," and there's an end of it. I'm stuck in the mud, and can't do without. So I say, " All right ! " and take a tenner. In the autumn, when I've made my turnover, I bring it back, and you squeeze the extra three roubles out of me. AKiM. Yes, but that's what peasants do when they what d'ye call, it^ when they forget God. It's not honest, 1 mean, it's no good, I mean. mi'tritch. You wait. You'll see it comes just to the same thing. Now don't forget how you've skinned me. And Anisya, say, has got some money lying idle. She does not know what to do with it, besides, she's a woman, and does not know how to use it. She comes to you. "Couldn't you make some profit with my money too?" she says. 5' Why not?" 'gay you, arid'~yoii"X\fait. Before the summer I come again and say, "Give me The Power of Darkness 49 another tenner, and I'll be obliged." Then you find out if my hide isn't all gone, and if I can be skinned again you give me Anisya's money. But supposing I'm clean shorn, — have nothing to eat, — then you see I can't be fleeced any more, and you say, "Go your way, friend," and you look out for another, and lend him your own and Anisya's money and skin him. That's what the bank is. So it goes round and round. It's a cute thing, old fellow! AKiM \excitedly\ Gracious me, whatever is that like .'' It's what d'ye call it, it's filthy ! The peasants — what d'y®"'eall-it, the pea:saiits do so I mean, and know it's, whaF*i3^e call it, a sin ! It's what d'you call, not right, not right, I mean. " It's filthy ! How can people as have leafiTfTT': what d'ye call it . . . MiTRiTCH. That, old fellow, is just what they're fond of! And remember, them that are stupid, or thp women folk, as can't put their money into use themselves, they take it to' the bank, and they there, deuce take 'em, clutch hold of it, and with this money they fleece the people. It's a cute thing ! AKfM \dghing\ Oh dear, I see, what d'ye call it, with- out money it's bad, and with money it's worse ! How's that .'' God told us to work, but you, what d'ye call . . . I mean you put money into the bank and go to sleep, and the money, will what d'ye call it, will feed you while you sleep. It's^ filthy, that's what I call it; it's not right. MiTRiTCH. N< ^t right? Eh . old fellow, wh o cares abou t that nowadgj^s !' "And how clean they pluck you, too ! Tnaitsthe fact of the matter. AKfM [«gA*] Ah yes, seems the time's what d'ye call it, the time's growing ripe. There, I've had a look at the closets in town. What they've come to ! It's all polished and polished I mean, it's fine, it's what d'ye call it, it's like inside an inn. And what's it all for } What's the good of it.' Oh, they've forgotten God. Forgotten, I mean. We've forgotten, forgotten God, God I mean ! 50 The Power of Darkness Thank you, my dear, I've had enough. I'm quite satis- fied. [Rises. Mitritch climbs on to the oven]. ANisYA [eats, and collects the dishes] If his father would only take him to task ! But I'm ashamed to tell him. AKiM. What d'you say .'' ANISYA. Oh ! it's nothing. Enter Nan. AKIM. Here's a good girl, always busy ! You're cold, I should think ? NAN. Yes, I am, terribly. How d'you do, grand- father ? ANISYA. Well ? Is he there ? NAN. No. But Andriyan is there. He's been to town, and he says he saw them at an inn in town. He says Dad's as drunk as drunk can be ! ANISYA. Do you want anything to eat .'' Here you are. NAN [goes to the oven] Well, it is cold. My hands are quite numb. [Akim takes off his leg-bands and bast-shoes, Anisya washes up], ANISYA. Father ! AKIM. Well, what is it } ANISYA. And is Marina living well .'' AKIM. Yes, she's living all right. The little woman is what d'ye call it, clever and steady ; she's living, and what d'ye call it, doing her best. She's all right ; the little woman's of the right sort I mean ; painstaking and what d'ye call it, submissive ; the little woman's all right I mean, all right, you know. ANISYA. And is there no talk in your village that a relative of Marina's husband thinks of marrying our Akoulina ? Have you heard nothing of it } AKIM. Ah ; that's Mir6nof. Yes, the women did chat- ter something. But I didn't pay heed, you know. It don't interest me I mean, I don't know anything. Yes, the old women did say something, but I've a bad memory, bad memory, I mean. But the Mir6nofs are m W < n a w o w s The Power of Darkness 51 what d'ye call it, they're all right, I mean they're all right. ANisYA. I'm that impatient to get her settled. AKiM. And why ? NAN [&iCT«] They've come ! ANISYA. Well, don't you go bothering them. [Goes on washing the spoons tvithout turning her head]. NiKJTA [enters] Anisya ! Wife ! who has come ? [Anisya looks v/p and turns away in sileTwe]. NiKiTA [severely] Who has come .'' Have you for- gotten .'' ANISYA. Now don't humbug. Come in ! NiKiTA [still more severely] Who's come ? ANISYA [goes up and takes him hy the arm] Well then, husband has come. Now then, come in ! NiKfTA [holds hack] Ah, that's it! Husband! And what^s husband called? Speak properly. "" ' ANISYA. Oh bother you 1 Nikita ! NIKITA. Where have you learnt manners } The full name. ANISYA. Nikita Akimitch ! Now then ! NiKiTA [still in the doorway] Ah, that's it ! But now — the surname ? ANISYA [laughs and pulls him by the arm] Tchilikin. Dear me, what airs ! NiKixA. Ah, that's it. [Holds on to the door-post] No, now say with which foot Tchilikin steps into this house ! ANISYA. That's enough ! You're letting the cold in ! NIKITA. Say with which foot he steps .'' You've got to say it, — that's flat. ANISYA [ojirfe] He'll go on worrying. [To f\ilnta] Well then, with the left. Come in ! NIKITA. Ah, that's it. ANISYA. You look who's in the hut ! NIKITA. Ah, my parent ! Well, what of that ? I'm not 52 The Power of Darkness ashamed of my parent. I can pay my respects to my parent. How d'you do, father } [Boms and puts out Ms hand] My respects to you. AKiM \does not answer] Drink, I mean drink, wjiat jt does i, , It's.,iilthy I;,. NiKiTA. Drink, what's that ? I've been drinking } I'm to blame, that's flat! I've had a glass with a friend, drank his health. ANi'sYA. Go and lie down, I say. NIKITA. Wife, say where am I standing ? ANisYA. Now then, it's all right, lie down ! NIKITA. No, I'll first drink a samovar with my parent. Go and light the samovar. Akoulina, I say, come here ! Enter Akoulina, smartly dressed and carrying their pur- chases. AKOudNA. Why have you thrown everything about ? Where's the yarn ? NIKITA. The yarn .'' The yarn's there. Hullo, Mitritch, where are you ? Asleep .'' Asleep ."" Go and put the horse up. AKIM \not seeing Akoulina but looking at his son] Dear me, what is he doing ? The old man's what d'ye call it, quite done up, I mean, — been thrashing,- — and look at him, what d'ye call it, putting on airs ! Put up the horse ! Faugh, what filth ! MiTRiTCH [climbs down from the oven, and puts on felt boots] Oh, merciful Lord ! Is the horse in the yard ? Done it to death, I dare say. Just see how he's been swilling, the deuce take him. Up to his very throat. Oh Lord, holy Nicholas ! [Puts on sheepskin, and exit]. NIKITA [sits down] You must forgive me, father. It's true I've had a drop ; well, what of that .'' Even a hen will drink. Ain't it true ? So you must forgive me. Never mind Mitritch, he doesn't mind, he'll put it up. ANISYA. Shall I really light the samovar .'' niki'ta. Light it ! My parent has come. I wish to talk The Power of Darkness 53 to him, and shall drink tea with him. [To Akoulina] Have you brought all the parcels ? AKOULiNA. The parcels ? I've brought mine, the rest's in the sledge. Hi, take this, this isn't mine ! Throws a parcel on the table and puts the others into her box. Nan watches her while she puis them away. Akim does not look at his son, but puts his leg-bands and bast-shoes on the oven. ANisYA [going out with the samovdrl Her box is full as it is, and still he's bought more ! NiKiTA [pretending to be sober^ You must not be cross with me, father. You think I'm drunk .'' I am all there, that's flat ! As they say, " Drink, but keep your wits about you." I can talk with you at once, father. I can attend to any business. You told me about the money ; your horse is worn-out, — I remember ! That can all be managed. That's all in our hands. If it was an enormous sum that's wanted, then we might wait ; but as it is I can do every- thing. That's the case. AKIM [goes on fidgeting with the leg-bands] Eh, lad, " It's ill sledging when the thaw has set in." NIKITA. What d'you mean by that .'' " And it's ill talking with one who is drunk " ? But don't you worry, let's have some tea. And I can do anything ; that's flat ! I can put everything to rights. AKIM [shakes his head] Eh, eh, eh ! NIKITA. The-meney, Jiere'tf is: [Puts his hand in his pocket, pulls out pocket-book, handles the notes in it and takes out a ten-rouble note] Take, this to. get a horse ; I can't forget my parent. I shan't forsake him, that's flat. Be- cause he's my parent ! Here you are, take it ! Really now, I don't grudge it. [Comes up and pushes the note towards Akim who won't take it. Nikita catches hold of his father's hand] Take it, I tell you. I don't grudge it. AKIM. I can't, what d'you call it^ I mean, can't take it ! And can't what d'ye cajl, it, talk to you, because you're not yourseltj I mean. 54 The Power of Darkness NiKiTA. I'll not let you go ! Take it ! [Puts the into Aldm's hand]. ANisYA [enters, and stops] You'd better take it, he'll give you no peace ! AKiM [takes it, and shakes his head] Oh ! that liquor . Not like a man, I mean ! NIKITA. That's better ! If you repay it you'll repay it, if not I'll make no bother. That's what I am ! [Sees Akoulina] Akoulina, show your presents. AKOULfNA. What ? NIKITA. Show your presents. AKOULINA. The presents, what's the use of showing 'em } I've put 'em away. NIKITA. Get them, I tell you. Nan will like to see 'em. Undo the shawl. Give it here. AKIM. Oh, oh ! It's sickening ! [Climbs on the oven]. AKOULINA [gets out the parcels and puts them on the table] Well, there you are, — what's the good of looking at 'em } NAN. Oh how lovely ! It's as good as Stepanida's. AKOULINA. Stepanida's ? What's Stepanida's compared to this .' [Brightening up and undoing the parcels] Just look here, — see the quality ! It's a French one. NAN. The print is fine ! Mary has a dress like it, only lighter on a blue ground. This is pretty. NiKfTA. Ah, that's it ! Anisya passes angrily into the closet, returns with a table- cloth and the chimney of the samovar, and goes up to the table. ANISYA. Drat you, littering the table ! NIKITA. You look here ! ANISYA. What am I to look at } Have I never seen anything ? Put it away ! [Srveeps the shawl on to thejloor with her arm]. AKOULINA. What are you pitching things down for ? You pitch your own things about ! [Picks up the sharv[]. NIKITA. Anisya ! Look here ! The Power of Darkness 55 ANi'sYA. Why am I to look ? NiKiTA. You think I have forgotten you ? Look here ! [Shows her a parcel and sits down on it] It's a present for you. Only you must earn it ! Wife, where am I sitting ? ANisYA. Enough, of^your. humbug. I'm not afraid of you. _Whose money are you spreeing on and buying your fat^w€»ch.,p;j^s^ats with } Mine ! AKOUUNA. Yours indeed? No fear! You wished to steal it, but it did not come ojf.L Get out of the way ! [Pushes hef^ivMte trying to pass\ ANfsYA. What are you shoving for ? I'll teach you to shove ! AKOULfNA. Shove me .'' You try ! [Presses against Anisya]. NIKITA. Now then, now then, you women. Have done now ! [Steps between them]. AKouLiNA. Comes shoving herself in ! You ought to keep quiet and remember your doings ! You think no one knows ! ANISYA. Knows what .'' Out with it, out with it ! What do they know ? AKOULfNA. I know Something about you ! ANISYA. You're a slut who goes with another's husband ! AKOULiNAfts^nd you did yours to death ! ANi'sYA [throwing herself on AkouUna] You're raving ! NIKITA [holding her hack] Anisya, you ^em to have for- gjjtten ! ANisYA. Want to frighten me ! I'm not afraid of you ! NIKITA [turns Anisya round and pushes her out] Be off ! ANISYA. Where am I to go } I'll not go out of my own house ! NIKITA. Be off, I tell you, and don't dare to come in here ! ANfsYA. I won't go ! [Nikita pushes her, Anisya cries and screams and clings to the door] What ! am I to be turned out of my own house by the scruff of the neck ? What 56 The Power of Darkness are you doings you scoundrel ? Do you think there's no law for you ? You wait a bit ! NiKfTA. Now then ! ANisYA. I'll go to the Elder ! To the policeman ! NiKiTA. Off, I tell you ! [Pushes her out\. ANISYA [hehiTid the door] I'll hang myself ! NiKfTA. No fear ! NAN. Oh, oh, oh ! Mother, dear, darling ! \Cries\ NIKITA. Me frightened of her ! A likely thing ! What are you crying for ? She'll come back, no fear. Go and see to the samovar. [Exit Naii\. AKOULiNA [collects and folds her presents] The mean wretch, how she's messed it up. But wait a bit, I'll cut up her jacket for her ! Sure I will ! NIKITA. I've turned her out, what more do you want ? AKOULINA. She's dirtied my new shawl. If that bitch hadn't gone away, I'd have torn her eyes out ! NIKITA. That's enough. Why should. y.QU, he angry.' Now if I loved her . . . AKOULINA. Loved her .'' She's worth loving, with her fat mug ! If you'd have given her up, then nothing would have happened. You should have sent her to the devU. And the house was mine all the same, and the money was mine ! Says she is the mistress, but wh?it__sort, of mis- tress is she to her husband .'' She's a murderess, that's what she is ! She'll serve you the same way ! NIKITA. Oh dear, how's one to stop a woman's jaw? You don't yourself know what you're jabbering about ! AKOULiNA. Yes, I do. I'll not live with her ! I'll turn her out of the house ! She can't live here with me. The mistress indeed ! She's not the mistress, — that jail- bird ! NIKITA. That's enough ! What have you to do with her? Don't mind her. You look at me ! -J -am the master! I do as I like. .. I've ceased to love her, and now I love you. I love who I like ! The poweT is mine, The Power of Darkness 57 she's under me. That's where I keep her. [Points to his feet] A pity we've no concertina. [Sings], "We have loaves on the stoves, We have porridge on the shelf. So we'll live and be gay. Making merry every day, And when death comes. Then we'll die ! We have loaves on the stoves. We have porridge on the shelf ..." Enter Mitritch. He takes off his outdoor things and climbs on the oven. MfTRiTCH. Seems the women have been fighting again ! Tearing each other's hair. Oh Lord, gracious Nicholas ! AKiM [sitting on the edge of the oven, takes his leg-bands and shoes and begins putting them on] Get in, get into the comer. MITRITCH. Seems they can't settle matters between them. Oh Lord ! NiKiTA. Get out the liquor, we'll have some with our tea. NAN [to Akoulina] Sister, the samovar is just boiling over. NIKITA. And where's your mother } NAN. She's standing and crying out there in the passage. NiKfTA. Oh, that's it ! Call her, and tell her to bring the samovar. And you, Akoulina, get the tea things. AKouLiNA. The tea things ? All right. [Brings the things]. NIKITA [unpacks spirits, rusks, and salt herrings] That's for myself. This is yarn for the wife. The paraffin is out there in the passage, and here's the money. Wait a bit, [takes a counting-frame] I'll add it up. [Adds] Wheat-flour, 80 kopeykas, oil . . . Father, 10 roubles. . . . Father, come let's have some tea ! Silence. Akim sits on the oven and winds the bands round his legs. Enter Anisya with samovdr. 5? The Power of Darkness ANisYA. Where shall I put it ? NiKiTA. Here on the table. Well ! have you been to the Elder ? Ah, that's it ! Have your say and then eat your words. Now then, that's enough. Don't be cross, sit down and drink this. [Fills a wine-glass for her] And here's your present. [Gives her the parcel he had been sit- ting on. Anisi/a takes it silently and shakes her head]. AKiM [gets down and puts on his sheepskin, then comes up to the table and puts dorm the rmney] Here, take your money back ! Put it away. NIKITA [does not see the money] Why have you put on your things .'' AKIM. I'm going, going I mean ; forgive me for the Lord's sake. [Takes up his cap and belt]. NIKITA. My gracious ! Where are you going to at this time of night ? AKIM. I can't, I mean what d'ye call 'em, in your house, what d'ye call 'em, can't stay I mean, stay, can't stay, forgive me. NIKITA. But are you going without having any tea ? AKIM [fastens his belt] Going, because, I mean, it's not right in your house, I mean, what d'you call it,- not right, Nikita, in the house, what d'ye call it, not right ! I mean, you are living a bad life, Nikita, bad, — I'll go. NIKITA. Eh now ! Have done talking ! Sit down and drink your tea ! ANISYA. Why, father, you'll shame us before the neigh- bours. What has offended you .'' AKIM. Nothing what d'ye call it, nothing has offended me, nothing at all ! I mean only, I see, what d'you call it, I mean, I see my son, to ruin I mean, to .ruin>— I-Tn«an my son!s_oi}. JhejgacLtp ruin, I mean. NIKITA. What ruin ? Just prove it ! AKIM. Ruin, ruin ; you're in the midst of it ! What did I tell you that time .'' NIKITA. You said all sorts of things ! The Power of Darkness 59 aki'm. I told you, what d'ye call it, I told j'ou about the orphan lass. That you had wronged an orphan — Marina, I mean, wronged her ! NiKiTA. Eh ! he's at it again. Let bygones be bygones . . . All that's past ! AKiM [excited] Past ! No, lad, it^s not past. Sin, I mean, fastens on to sin — drags sin after it, and you've stuck fast, Nikfta, fast in sin ! Stuck fast in sin ! I see you're fagt in sin. Stuck fast, sunk~iri sin, I mean ! NIKITA. Sit down and drink your tea, and have done with it ! AKIM. I can't, I mean can't what d'ye call it, can't drink tea. Because of your filth, I mean; I feel what d'ye call it, I feel sick, very sick ! I can't what d'ye call it, I can't drink tea with you. NIKITA. Eh ! There he goes rambling ! Come to the table. ! aki'm. You're in your riches same as in a net — you're in__a_ji£t,~rTirean.- Ah;- Nikita, it's the soul that God needs ! NIKITA. Now really, what right have you to reprove me in my own house ? Why do you keep on at me } Am I a child that you can pull by the hair ? Nowadays those things have been dropped ! AKIM. That's true. I have heard that nowadays, what d'ye call it, that nowadays children pull their fathers' beards, I mean ! But that's ruin, that's ruin, I mean ! NIKITA [angrili/] We are living without help from you, and it's you who came to us with your wants ! AKIM. The money ? There's your money ! I'll go beg- ging, begging I mean, before I'll take it, I mean. NIKITA. That's enough ! Why be angry and upset the whole company ! [Holds him hy the arm]. AKfM [shrieks] Let go ! I'll not stay. I'd rathpr sleep under some-fenee-than-ii* thc-midsfr^f-ytJur tilth ! Faugh ! God forgive me ! [JSin^]. 6o The Power of Darkness NiKiTA. Here's a go ! AKiM [reopcTis the door] Come to your senses, Nikita ! It's the soul that God wants ! [JS.n/]. AKOULfNA [takes cups] Well, shall I pour out the tea ? [Takes a cup. All are silent]. MiTRiTCH [roars] Oh Lord, be merciful to me a sinner ! [All start]. NiKiTA [lies down on the bench] Oh, it's dull, it's dull! [To Akoulina] Where's the concertina? AKouuNA. The concertina ? He's bethought himself of it. Why, you took it to be mended. I've poured out your tea. Drink it ! NiKfTA. I don't want it! Put out the light . . . Oh, how dull I feel, how dull! [Sobs]. ACT IV Autumn. Evening. The moon is shining. The stage re- presents the interior of courtyard. The scenery at the hack shows, in the middle, the hack porch of the hut. To the right the rdnter half of the hut and the gate ; to the left the summer half and the cellar. To the right of the stage is a shed. The sound of tipsy voices and shouts are heard from the hut.^ Second Neighhour Woman comes out of the hut and beckons to First Neighhour Woman. SECOND NEIGHBOUR. How's it AkouHna has not shown herself? FIRST NEIGHBOUR. Why hasn't she shown herself.? She'd have been glad to; but she's too ill, you know. The suitor's relatives have come, and want to see the girl ; and she, my dear, she's lying in the cold hut and can't come out, poor thing ! SECOND NEIGHBOUR. But how's that .'' FIRST NEIGHBOUR. They Say s^^e'A,heen bewitched by an evil eye ! She's got pains in the stomach ! SECOND NEIGHBOUR. You don't Say so ? FIRST NEIGHBOUR. What else could it be ? [ Whispers'\. SECOND NEIGHBOUR. Dear me ! There's a go ! But his relatives will surely find it out } FIRST NEIGHBOUR. They find it out ! They're aj.l.drunk ! Besides, they are chiefly after her dowryi Just think what ^ Where not otherwise mentioned in the stage directions, it is always the winter half of the hut that is referred to as " the hut." The summer half is not heated, and not used in winter under ordi- nary circumstances, 6i ^ 62 The Power of Darkness they give with the girl ! Two furs, my dear, six dresses, a French shawl, and I don't know how many pieces of linen, and money as well, — two hundred roubles, it's said ! SECOND NEIGHBOUR. ThatjjU^ verjr Well, Jjut even money can't give much pleasure in the face, pf suck^a-'ais- grace. „ .. FIRST NEIGHBOUR. Hush ! . . . There's his father, I think. They cease talking, and go into the hut. The Suitor's Father comes out of the hut hiccoughing. THE FATHER. Oh, I'm all in a sweat. It's awfully hot ! Will just cool myself a bit. [Stands puffing'] Ttie Lord only know^g wh3,t,— -soniething is aat-right., I can't feel happy. — Well, it's the old, woman's affair. Enter Matrydna from hut. MATRy6NA. And I was just thinking, where's the father ? Where's the father.' And here you are, dear friend. . . . Well, dear friend, the Lord be thanked ! Everything is as honourable as can be ! When one's arranging a match one should not boast. And I have never learnt to boast. But as you've come about the right business, so with the Lord's help, you'll be grateful to me all your life ! She's a wonderful girl! There's no btlier like her Tri all the district ! THE FATHER. Tha,t's. trufi. enough, but_ how about the money .'' matry6na. Don't you trouble about the money ! All she had, from ^her father goes with her. And it's more than one gets easily, as things are nowadaysr- Three times fifty roubles ! THE FATHER. We don't Complain, but it's for our own child. Naturally we want to get the best we can. matry6na. I'll tell you straight, friend : if it hadn't been for me, ypu'd never have found anything like her ! They've had an offer from the Karmilins, but I stood out against it. And as for the money, I'll tell you truly : The Power of Darkness 63 when her father, God be merciful to his soul, was dying, he gave orders that the widow should take Nikita into the homestead — of course I know all about it from my son, — and the money was to go to Akoulina. Why, another one might have thought of his own interests, but Nikita gives everything clean ! It's no trifle. Fancy what a sum it is! THE FATHER. People are saying, that more money was left her ? The lad's sharp too ! matry6na. Oh, dear soul alive ! A slice in another's hand always looks big ; all she had -will be handed over. I tell you, throw doubts to the wind and make all sure ! What a girl she is ! as fresh as a diiisy ! "the father. That's so. But my old woman and I were only wondering about the girl ; why has she not come out ? We've been thinking, suppose she's sickly .'' matry6na. Oh, ah. . ._._Whq.?. She?, Sickly? Why, .tlifi£e.'& nojtiejo compare with her Ji) the district. The girl's as sound as a bell ; you can't pinch her. But you saw her the other day ! And as for work, she's wonderful ! She's a bit deaf, that's true, but there are spots on the sun, you know. And hernot coming out, you see, it's from an evil eye! ,. A spell's been cast on her ! And I know the bitch who's done the business J They know of the betrothal and they bewitched her. But I know a counter-spell. The girl will get up to-morrow. Don't yoU"worry about the girl ! the father. Well, of course, the thing's settled. matry6na. Yes, of course ! Don't you turn back. And don't forget me, I've had a lot of trouble. Don't for- get .. . A woman's voice from the hut. voice. If we are to go, let's go. Come along, Ivan ! the father. I'm coming. \Exeunt. Guests crmvd together in the passage and prepare to go aTvay\. NAN [runs out of the hut and calls to Anisyd] Mother ! 64 The Power of Darkness ANisYA \Jrom inside] What d'you want ? NAN. Mother, come here, or they'll hear. Anisya enters and they go together to the shed. ANfsYA. Well ? What is it ? Where's Akoulina ? NAN. She's gone into the bam. It's awful what's she's doing there! I'm blest! "I can't bear it/' she says. "I'll scream/' she says, "I'll scream out loud." Blest if she didn't. ANfsYA. She'll have to wait. We'll see our visitors off first. NAN. Oh mother ! She's so bad ! And she's angry too. "What's the good of their drinking my health.?" she says. " I shan't marry," she says. " I shall die/' she says. Mother, supposing she does die ! It's awful. I'm so frightened ! ANISYA. No fear, she'll not die. But don't you go near her. Come along. [Exit Anisya and Nari\. MiTHiTCH Ipomes in at the gate and begins collecting the scattered hay] Oh Lord ! Merciful Nicholas ! What a lot of liquor they've been and swilled, and the smell they've made ! It smells even out here ! But no, I don't want any, drat it ! See how they've scattered the hay about. They don't eat it, but only trample it under foot. A truss gone before you know it. Oh, that smell, it seems to be just under my nose ! Drat it ! [Fare)»«] It's time to go to sleep ! But I don't care to go into the hut. It seems to float just round my nose ! It has a strong scent, the damned stuff! [The guests are heard driving off] They're off at last. Oh Lord ! Merciful Nicholas ! There they go, binding themselves and gulling one another. And it's all gammon ! Enter Nikita. NiKiTA. Mitritch, you get oflp to sleep and I'll put this straight. MITRITCH. All right, you throw it to the sheep. Well have you seen 'em all off? The Power of Darkness 65 NiKiTA. Yes, they're off! But things are not right ! 1 don't know what to do ! MiTRiTCH. It's a fine mess. But there's the Foundlings' ^ for that sort of thing. Whoever likes may drop one there ; -they'll take_'em all. Give 'em as many as you like, they ask no questions, and even pay — if the mother goes in as a wet-nurse. _ It's easy enough nowadays. NIKITA. But mind, Mltriteh, don't go blabbing. MITRITCH. It's no concern of mine. Cover the tracks as you think best. Dear me, how you smell of liquor ! I'll go in. Oh Lord ! [Exit, yanming\. NiMta is long silent. Sits down on a sledge. NIKITA. Here's a go ! Enter Anisya. ANisYA. Where are you ? NIKITA. Here. ANISYA. What are you doing there } There's no time to be lost ! We must take it out directly ! NfKiTA. What are we to do ? ANISYA. I'll tell you what you are to do. And you'll have to do it ! NIKITA, You'd better take it to the Foundlings' — if any- thing. ANISYA. Then you'd better take it there yourself if you like ! You've a hankering for. smut, but you're weak when it comes to settling up, I see ! NIKITA. What's to be done ? ANisYA. Go down into the cellar, I tell you, and dig a hole! Nikff A. Couldn't you manage, somehow, some other way ? ANISYA [imitating him] " Some other way .'' " Seems we can't " some other way ! " You should have thought about it a year ago. Do what you're told to ! NIKITA. Oh dear, what a go ! ' The Foundlings' Hospital in Moscow, where 80 to 90 per cent. of the children die. B 66 The Power of Darkness Enter Nan. NAN. Mother ! Grandmother's calling ! 1 think sister's got a baby ! I'm blest if it didn't scream ! ANisYA. What are you babbling about? Plague take you ! It's kittens whining there. Go into the hut and sleep, or I'll give it you ! NAN. Mammy dear, truly, I swear . . . ANISYA [raising her arm as if to strike] I'll give it you ! You be off and don't let me catch sight of you ! [Nan runs into hut. To Nikita'] Do as you're told, or else mind ! [Exit]. NIKITA [alone. After a long silence] Here's a go ! Oh these women ! What a fix ! Says you should have thought of it a year ago. When's one to think beforehand.? When's one to think ? Whyj last year this Anisya dangled after me. What was I to do? Am I a monk? The S master died ; and I covered my sin as was proper, so I was '~'^~' not to blame there. Aren't there lots of jucdhi^ ca^es ? And then those powders. Did I put her up to tliat ? Why, had I known what the bitch was up to, I'd have killed her ! I'm sure I should have killed her ! She's made me her partner in these horrors — that jade ! And she became loathsome to me from that day ! She became loathsome, loathsome to me as soon as mother told me about it. I can't bear the sight of her ! WelT tten, Tibw could I live with her ? And then it begun. . .__. That wench began hanging round. Well, what was I to do ! If I had not done it, someone else would. And this is what comes of it ! Still I'm not to blanie in this either. Oh, what a go ! [Sits thinking] They are bold, these women! What a plan to think of! But I won't have a hand in it ! Enter Matrydna with, a lantern and spade, panting. matry6na. Why are you sitting there like a hen on a perch ? What did your wife tell you to do ? You just get things ready ! The Power of Darkness 67 NiKiTA. What do you mean to do ? matry6na. We know what to do. You do your share ! NIKITA. You'll be getting me into a mess I matry6na. What .'' You're not thinking of backing out, are you ? Now it's come to this, and you back out ! NIKITA. Think wlra-t-a thing it would be ! It!s a living sotrW matry6na. a living soul indeed ! Why, it's more dead than alive^ ,Ajid what's one to do with it ? Go and take it to the Foundlings' — it will die just the same, and the rumour will get about, and people will talk, and the girl be left on our hands. NIKITA. And supposing it's found out ? matry6na. Not manage to do it in one's own house .'' We'll manage it so that no one will have an inkling. Only do as I tell you. We woaign „cgji't do it without a man. There, take thp spade, and get it done there, — I'll hold the light. NIKITA. What am I to get done ? matry6na [in a low wice] Dig a holej_then we'll bring it out and get it out of the way in a trice ! There, she's calling again. Now then, get in, and I'll go. NIKITA. Is it dead then .'' matry6na. Of course it is. Only you must be quick, or else people will notice ! They'll see or they'll hear ! The rascals must needs know everything. And the policeman went by this evening. Well then, you see \ff.ves him the spade^ you get down into the cellar and dig a hole right in the corner ; the earth is soft there, and you'll smooth it over. Mother earth will not blab to any one ; she'll keep it close. Go then ; go, dear. nikIta. You'll ^et me into a mess, bother you ! I'll go away \ You do jt alone as best, you can ! anisya \through the doorway] Well .'' Has he dug it ? matry6na. Why have you come away ^ What have you done with it ? 68 The Power of Darkness ANisYA. I've covered it with rags. No one can hear it. Well, has he dug it .-' matry6na. He doesn't want to ! ANISYA [springs out enraged] Doesn't want to ! How will he like feeding vermin in prison ! I'll go straight away and tell everything to the police ! It's all the same if one must perish. I'll go straight and tell ! NiKiTA [taken aback] What will you tell ? ANISYA. What .'' Everything ! Who took the money ? You ! [Nikita is silent] And who gave the poison ? I did ! But you knew ! You knew ! You knew ! We were in agreement ! matry6na. That's enough now. Nikita dear, why are you obstinate? What's to be done now.'' One must take some trouble. Go, honey. ANISYA. See the fine gentleman ! He doesn't like it ! You've put upon me long enough ! You've trampled me under foot ! Now it's my turn.!_ Go, I tell you, or else I'll do what I said. . . ._ There, take the spade ;„ there, now go ! NIKITA. Drat you! Can't you leave a fellow alone ! [Takes the spade, but shrinks] If I don't choose to, I'll not go ! ANISYA. Not go ? [Begins to shout] Neighbours ! Heh ! heh! mathy6na [closes her mouth] What are you about .'' You're mad ! He'll go. . . . Go, sonnie ; go, my own. ANISYA. I'll cry murder ! NIKITA. Now stop ! Oh what people ! You'd better be quick. ... As well be hung for a sheep as a lamb ! [Goes towards the cellar], matry6na. Yes, that's just it, honey. If you know how to amuse yourself, you must know how to hide the conse- quences. ANISYA [still excited] He's trampled on me ... he and his slut ! But it's enough ! I'm not going to be the only one ! Let him also be a murderer ! Then he'll know how it feels ! The Power of Darkness 69 MATRy6NA. There, there ! How she flares up ! Don't you be cross, lass, but do things quietly little by little, as it's best. You go to the girl, and he'll do the work. [Follows Nikita to the cellar with a lantern. He descends into the cellar]. ANisYA. And I'll make him strangle his dirty brat ! [Still excited] I'vejvorried myself to death air alone, with Peter's bones weighing on my mind ! Let him feel it too ! I'll not spare myself ; I've said I'll not spare myself! ""ISiKiTA [from the cellar] Show a light ! matry6na [holds up the lantern to him. To Anisya] He's digging. Go and bring it. anisya. You stay with him, or he'll go away, the wretch ! And I'll go and bring it. matry6na. Mind, don't forget to baptize it, or I will if yea-ykCt Have you a cross ? anisya. I'll find one. I know how to do it. [£,t27]. See at end of Act, Variation, which may he used instead of the following. matry6na. How the woman bristled up ! But one must allow she's been put upon. Well, but with the Lord's help, when, ■^ve've covered this business, there'll be an end of it. We'll shove the girl oiF without any trouble. My son will live in comfort. The house, thank God, is as full as an egg. They'll not forget me either. Where would they have been without Matry^na .f' They'd not have known how to contrive things. [Peering into the cellar] Is it ready, sonnie } NIKITA [puis out his head] What are you about there .'' Bring it quick ! What are you dawdling for ? If it is to be done, let it be done. matry6na [goes towards door of the hut and meets Anisya. Anisya comes out with a baby wrapped in rags] Well, have you baptized it .'' yo The Power of Darkness ANisYA. Why, of course ! It was all I could do to take it away — she wouldn't give it up ! [Comes forward and hands it to NiMta]. NiKfTA [does not take it] You bring it yourself ! ANISYA. Take it, I tell you ! [Throws the baby to him], NiKiTA [catches it] I|^s alive ! „.Graci.QU§,J3Bfi, it's maving ! It's alive ! ^ What am 1 to . . . ANisvA [snatches the baby from him and throws it into the cellar] Be quick and smother it, and then it won't be alive ! [Pushes NikUa down] It's your doing, and you must finish it. matry6na [sits on the doorstep of the hut] He's tender- hearted. It's hard on him, poor dear. Well, what of that ? Isn't it also his sin .' Anisya stands by the cellar. matry6na [sits looking at her and discourses] Oh, oh, oh ! How frightened he was : well, but what of that ? If it is hard, it's the only thing to be done. Where was one to put it ? And just think, how often it happens that people pray to God to have children ! But no, God gives them none ; or they are all still-born. Look at our priest's wife now. . . . And here, where it's not wanted, here it lives. [Looks to- wards the cellar] I suppose he's finished. [To Anisya] Well? ANISYA [looking into the cellar] He's put a board on it and is sitting on it. It must be finished ! matry6na. Oh, oh ! One would be glad not to sin, but what's one to do } Re-enter Nikitafrom cellar, trembling all over, NIKITA. It^s-still-aliKeJ .1 can't ! It's alive ! anisya. If it's alive, where are you off to ? [Tries to stop him]. NIKITA [rushes at her] Go away ! I'll kill you ! [Catches hold of her arms ; she escapes, he runs after her with the spade. Matrydna runs towards him and stops him. Anisya runs into the porch. Matrydna tries to rerench the spade from him. To his mother] I'll kill you ! I'll kill you ! Go away ! The Power of Darkness 71 [Matrydna rum to Anisya in the porch. Niktta stops] I'll kill you ! I'll kill you all ! matry6na. That's because he's so frightened ! Nevei mind, it will pass ! NiKiTA. What have they:_made^ me doj, _ What have they made_me_do?__JHove it whimpered. . . . Hovir it crunfihed_jiinder_mfii,,. What „hav£.. ,3xey done with me? . . . And it's really alive, still alive ! [Listens in silence] It's whimpering . . . There, it's whimpering. [Runs to the cellar]. matry6na [to Anisya] He's going ; it seems he means to bury it. Nikita, you'd better take the lantern ! NIKITA [does not heed her, but listens hy the cellar door] I can hear nothing ! I suppose it viras fancy ! [Moves away, then stops] How the little bones crunched under me. Kr-ft-,--. kr . . . What have they made me do? [Listens ogaJ»]_ Again whimpering '. It's really whimpering ! What can it be ? Mother ! Mother, I say ! [Goes up to her]. matry6na. What is it, sonnie ? NIKITA. Mother, my own mother, I can't do any more ! -Ga-R-t-doany more ! My own mother, have some pity on — me! matry6na. Oh dear, how frightened you are, my dar- ling ! Come, come, drink a drop to give you courage ! NiKiTA. Mother, mother ! It seems my time has come ! What have you done with me ? How the little bones crunched, and how it whimpered ! My own mother ! What have you done with me ? [Steps aside and sits down on Ike sledge]. matry6na. Come, my own, have a drink ! It certainly does seem uncanny at night-time. But wait a bit. When the day breaks, you know, and one day and another passes, you'll forget even to think of it. Wait a bit;„wj|ien the girl's married we'll even forget to think of it. But you go and have' a drink ; have a drink ! I'll go and put things straight in the cellar myself. 72 The Power of Darkness NiKfxA [rouses himself] Is there any drink left ? Per- haps I can drink it off ! [£.w<]. Anisya, who has stood all the time by the door, silently makes way for him. matry6na. Go, go, honey, and I'll set to work ! I'll go down myself and dig ! Where has he throw5''flie 'gpsae to ? ]^Mnds the spade, and goes down into the cellar'] Anisya, come here ! Hold the light, will you ? ANisYA. And what of him ? MATRYONA. He's SO frightened ! You've been too hard with him. Leave him alone, he'll come to his senses. God help him ! I'll set to work myself. Put the lantern down here. I can see. Matrydna disappears into the cellar. ANISYA [looking towards the door hy which Nikita entered the hut] Well, have you had enough spree ? You've been puffing yourself up, but now you'll know how it feels ! You'll lose some of your bluster ! NIKITA [rushes out of the hut towards the cellar] Mother ! mother, I say ! matry6na [puts out her head] What is it, sonnie ? niki'ta [listening] Don't bury it, it's alive ! Don't you hear?. Alive! There — it's whimpering ! .ThereT.. quite plain ! matry6na. How can it whimper ? Why, you've flat- tened it into a pancake ! The whole head is smashed to bits! ■ """ NiKfxA. What is it then ? [Stops his ears] It's still whimpering! lam lost! Lost! What liave they done with me } . . . Where shall I go ? [Sits down on the step]. Curtain. VARIATION Instead of the end of Act IV, (from the words, "anisya. I'll find one. I know how to do it. \Exit'\ ") the following variation may he read, and is the one usually acted. Scene 2. The interior of the hut as in Act I, Nan lies on the bench, and is covered with a coat. Mitritch is sitting on the oven smoking. MfxRiTCH. Dear me ! How they've made the place smell ! Drat 'em ! They've been spilling the fine stuff. Even tobacco don't get rid of the smell ! It keeps tick- ling one's nose so. Oh Lord ! But it's bedtime, I guess. [Approaches the lamp to put it out^. NAN \Jumps up, and remains sitting up"] Daddy dear,i don't put it out ! MITRITCH. Not put it out .'' Why ? NAN. Didn't you hear them making a row in the yard .'' [Listens'^ D'you hear, there in the barn again now ? MiTBiTCH. What's that to you ? I guess no one's asked you to mind ! Lie down and sleep ! And I'll turn down the light. [Turns down lamp^. NAN. Daddy darling ! Don't put it right out ; leave a little bit if only as big as a mouse's eye, else it's so frightening ! MITRITCH [laughs] All right, all right. [Sits down by her] What's there to be afraid oi? 1 Nan calls Mitritch " daddy" merely as a term of endearment. 73 74 The Power of Darkness NAN. How can one help being frightened, daddy! Sister did go on so ! She was beating her head against the box ! [Whispers] You know, I know . ,. •,.S;„little baby- is going to be born. . . . It's already born, [ thi^T"? . . MiTRiTCH. Eh, what a little busybody it is ! May the frogs kick her ! Must needs know everything. Lie down and sleep! [Nan lies down\ That's right! [Tucks her up\ That's right ! There now, if you know too much you'll grow old too soon. NAN. And you are going to lie on the oven .' MITRITCH. Well, of course ! What a little silly you are, now I come to look at you ! Must needs know everything. [Tucks her up again, then stands up to go\ There now, lie still and sleep ! [Goes up to the overt]. NAN. It gave just one cry, and now thei;eXfl°thing to be heard. '"- - MITRITCH. Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! What is it you can't hear ? NAN. The baby. MfTRiTCH. There is none, that's why you can't hear it. NAN. But I heard it ! Blest if I didn't hear it ! Such a thin voice ! MITRITCH. Heard indeed ! Much you heard ! Well, if you know, — why then it was just such a little girl as you that the bogey popped into his bag and made off with. NAN. What bogey .'' MiTRiTCH. Why, just his very self! [Climbs up on to the oven] The oven is beautifully warm to-night. Quite a treat I Oh Lord ! Gracious Nicholas ! NAN. Daddy ! are you going to sleep .'' mi'tritch. What else } Do you think I'm going to sing songs } Silence. NAN. Daddy! DadiJjjJjajj^lTiex.areJiggMigJJiey're digging — don't you hearj^ Blest if they're not, they're The Power of Darkness 75 lafTRiTCH. What are you dreaming about ? Digging ! Digging in the night ! Who's digging ? The cow's rub- bing herself, that's all. Digging indeed ! Go to sleep I tell you, else I'll just put out the light ! NAN. Daddy darling, don't put it out ! I won't . . . truly, truly, I won't. It's so frightful ! lafTRiTCH. Frightful ? Don't be afraid and then it won't be frightful. Look at her, she's afraid, and then says it's frightful. How can it help being frightful if you are afraid ? Eh, what a stupid little girl ! Silence. The cricket chirps. NAN [whispers] Daddy ! I say, daddy ! Are you asleep ? MiTRiTCH. Now then, what d'you want ? NAN. What's the bogey like ? mi'tritch. Why, like this ! When he finds such a one as you, who won't sleep, he comes with a sack and pops the girl into it, then in he gets himself, head and all, lifts her dress, and gives her a fine whipping ! NAN. What with ? iflfTRiTCH. He takes a birch-broom with him. NAN. But he can't see there — inside the sack ! MITRITCH. He'll see, no fear ! NAN. But I'll bite him. ifliTRiTCH. No, friend, him you can't bite ! NAN. Daddy, there's some one coming ! Who is it ? Oh gracious goodness ! Who can it be .'' MITRITCH. Well, if some one's coming, let them come ! What's the matter with you ? I suppose it's your mother ! Enter Anisya. ANfsYA. Nan ! [Nan pretends to be asleep] Mitritch ! MfTRITCH. What } ANISYA. What's the lamp burning for.' We are going to sleep in the summer-hut. MfTRITCH. Why, you see I've only just got straight. I'll put the light out all right. 76 The Power of Darkness ANisYA [rummages in her box and grumbles] When a thing's wanted one never can find it ! MiTRiTCH. Why, what is it you are looking for ? ANISYA. I'm looking for a cross. ^^Sug£[ospJi£ were to die unbaptized ! It would be a sin, you know ! ^ MITRITCH. Of course it would! Everything in due order. . . . Have you found it ? ANISYA. Yes, I've found it. [fi-rf^]. MITRITCH. That's right, else I'd have lent her mine. Oh Lord ! NAN [jumps up trembling] Oh, oh, daddy ! Don't go to sleep ; for goodness' sake, don't ! It's so frightful ! MITRITCH. What's frightful ? NAN. It will die — the little baby will ! At Aunt Irene's the old woman also baptized the baby,^and it died ! MITRITCH. If it dies, they'll bury it ! NAN. But maybe it wouldn't have died, only old Granny Matry6na's there ! Didn't I hear what granny was saying ? I heard her ! Blest if I didn't ! MITRITCH. What did you hear ? Go to sleep, I teU you. Cover yourself up, head and all, and let's have an end of it ! NAN. If it lived, I'd nurse it ! MITRITCH [roaw] Oh Lord ! NAN. Where will they put it ? MITRITCH. In the right place ! It's no business of yours ! Go to sleep I tell you, else mother will come ; she'll give it you ! [Silence]. NAN. Daddy! Eh, daddy 1 _„That girl, you know, you were telling about — they didn't-kill her .'' ^" MITRITCH. That girl ? Oh yes. That girl turned out all right! ~ " NAN. How was it ? You were saying you found her ? MITRITCH. Well, we just found her ! NAN. But where did you find her ? Do tell ! MiTRrrcH. Why, in their own house ; that's where ! We The Power of Darkness 77 came to a villagej the soldiers began hunting about in the house, when suddenly there's that same little girl lying on the floorj flat on her stomach. We were going to give her a knock on the head, but all at once I felt that sorry, that I took her up in my arms ; but no, she wouldn't let me ! Made herself so heavy, quite a hundredweight, and caught hold where she could with her hands, so that one couldn't get them off! Well, so I began stroking her head. It was so bristly,— just like a hedgehog ! So I stroked and stroked, and she quieted down at last. I soaked a bit of rusk and gave it her. She understood that, and began nibbling. What were we to do with her .'' We took her ; took her, and began feeding and feeding her, aruL she -got so used to us that we took her with us on the march, and' so she went about with us. Ah, she was a fine gjrl ! NAN. Yes, and not baptized ? MiTRiTCH. Who can tell ! They used to say, not alto- gether. 'Cos why, those people weren't our own. NAN. Germans.'' MITRITCH. What an idea ! Germans I Not Germans, but Asiatics. They are just the same as Jews, but still not Jews. Polish, yet Asiatics. Curls ... or, Curdlys is their name. . . . I've forgotten what it is ! ^ We called the girl Sashka. She was a fine girl, Sdshka was ! There now, I've forgotten everything I used to know ! But that girl — the deuce take her — seems to be before my eyes now ! Out of all my time of service, I remember how they flogged, me, and I remember that girl. That's all I remember! She'd hang round one's- neck, and one 'ud carry her so. That was a girl, — if you wanted a better you'd not find one ! -We gave her away after- wards. The captain's wife took her to bring up as her daughter.- So^she was all right ! How sorry the sol- diers were to let her go ! ' Probably Kurds. 78 The Power of Darkness NAN. There now, dacldy, and I remember when father was dying, — you were not living with us then. Well, he called Nikita and says, " Forgive me, Nikita ! " he says, and begins to cry. [Sighs] That also felt very sad ! MiTRiTCH. Yes ; there now, so it is . . . NAN. Daddy ! Daddy, I say ! There they are again, making a noise in the cellar ! Oh gracious heavens ! Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh, daddy ! They'll do something to it ! They'll make away with it, and it's so little ! Oh, oh ! [Covers up her head and cries]. MITRITCH [listening] Really they're up to some villainy, blow them to shivers ! Oh, these women are vile~crea-. tures ! One can't say much for men either; but women! . . . They are like wild beasts, and stick at nothing ! NAN [rising] Daddy ; I say, daddy ! MITRITCH. Well, what now .'' NAN. The other day a traveller stayed the night ; he said that when an infant died its soul goes up straight to heaven. Is that true ? MITRITCH. Who can tell. I suppose so. Well ? NAN. Oh, it would be best if I died too. [Whimpers], MITRITCH. Then you'd be off the list ! NAN. Up to ten one's an infant, and maybe one's soul would go to God. Else one's sure to go to the bad ! MITRITCH. And how to the bad ? How .should the likes of you not go to the bad ? Who teaches you ? What do you see .'' What do you hear ? Only vileness ! I, though I've not., been taught much, still know a thing or two. I'm not quite like a peasant woman. A p_easant.woman, what is she ? Just mud ! There are many millions of the likes of you in Russia, and all as blind as moles — knowing nothing ! All sorts of spells : how to stop the cattle- plague with a plough, and how to cure children by put- ting them under the perches in the hen-house ! That's what they know ! NAN. Yes, mother also did that ! The Power of Darkness 79 MiTRiTCH. Yes, — there it is, — just so ! So many millions of girls and women, and all like beasts- in a forest ! As she grows up, so she dies I Never sees anything ; never hears anything. A peasant, — he may learn something at the pub, or maybe in prison, or in the army,— as I did. But a woman? "Let alone about God, she doesn't even know rightly what Friday it is ! Friday ! Friday ! But ask her .what's Friday? She don't know! They're like blind puppies, creeping about and poking their noses into the dung-heap. . . . All they know are their silly songs. Ho, ho, ho, ho ! But what they mean by ho-ho, they don't know themselves ! NAN. But I, daddy, I do know half the Lord's Prayer ! MiTHiTCH. A lot you know ! But what can one expect of you ?_, Who teaches you ? Only a tipsy peasant — with the strap perhaps ! That's all the teaching you get ! I don't know who'll have to answer for you. For a recruit, the drill-sergeant or the corporal has to answer ; but for the likes of you there's no one responsible ! Just as the cattle that have no herdsman are the most mischievous, so with you women — you are the stupidest class! • The most foolish class is yours I NAN. Then what's one to do ? MITRITCH. That's what one has to do. . . . You just cover up your head and sleep ! Oh Lord ! Silence. The cricket chirps. NAN [jumps ttjj] Daddy ! Some one's screaming awfully ! Blest if some one isn't screaming ! Daddy darling, it's coming here ! MiTRLTCH. Cover up your head, I tell you ! t>i~/ Enter NiMta, followed hy Matrydna. NiKiTA. What have they done with me? What have'" they done with me ? it matry6na. Have a drop, honey ; have a drop of drink ! What's the matter ? [Fetches the spirits and sets the bottle before himj. 8o The Power of Darkness NiKiTA. Give it here ! Perhaps the drink will help me ! matry6na. Mind ! They're not asleep ! Here you are, have a drop ! NIKITA. What does it all mean ? Why did you plan it ? You might have taken it somewhere ! matry6na [whispers] Sit still a bit and drink a little more, or have a smoke. It will ease your thoughts ! NIKITA. My own mother ! My turn seems to have come ! How it began to whimper, and how the little bones crunched . . . krr . . . I'm not a man now ! matry6na. Eh, now, what's the use of talking so silly ! Of course it does seem fearsome at night, but wait till the daylight comes, and a day or two passes, and you'll forget to think of it ! [Goes up to Nikita and puts her hand on his shoulder], NIKITA. Go away frpjoa me ! What have you done, with, rae.-" matry6na. Come, come, sonnie ! Now really, what's the matter with you i [Takes his hand]. NIKITA. Go away from me ! I'll kill you ! It's all one to me now! I'U kill you ! .... --^ ,, matry6na. Oh, oh, how frightened he's got ! You should go and have a sleep now ! NIKITA. I have nowhere to go ; I'm lost ! matry6na [shaking her head] Oh, oh, I'd better go and tidy things up. He'll sit and rest a bit, and it will pass ! [Exit]. Nikita sits with his face in his hands. MUritch and Nan seem stunned. NIKITA. It's whining ! It's whining ! It is really — there, there, quite, plain!. _She'll bury it, really she will! [Runs to the door] Mother, don't bury it, it's alive, . . . Enter Matryona. matry6na [whispers] Now then, what is it ? Heaven help you ! Why won't you get to rest } How can it be alive ? All its bones are crushed I The Power of Darkness 8i niki'ta. Give me more drink ! [Drinks]. matry6na. Now go, sonnie. You'll fall asleep now all right. NiKiTA [stands listening] Still alive ... there .. . it's vphining ! Don't you hear ? . . . There ! yiATR.Y6N.A [whispers] No ! I tell you ! nik/ta. Mother! My own mother! I've ruined my life ! What have you done with me ? Where am I to go .' [Runs out of the hut; Matry6na follows him], NAN. Daddy dear, darling, they've smothered it ! MixRiTCH [angriiy] Go to sleep, I tell you ! Oh dear, may the frogs kick yoil ! I'll give it to you with the broom ! Go to sleep, I tell you ! NAN. Daddy, my treasure I Something is catching hold of my shoulders, something is catching hold with its paws ! Daddy dear . . . really, really ... I must go ! Daddy, darling ! let me get up on the oven with you ! Let me, for Heaven's sake ! Catching hold . . . catching hold ! Oh ! [Runs to the stove]. MiTRiTCH. See how they've frightened the girl. . . . What vile creatures they are ! _May^ the fro^ kick them ! Well then, climb up. NAN [climbs on oven] But don't you go away ! MiTRiTCH. Where should I go to ? Climb up, climb up ! Oh Lord ! Gracious Nicholas ! Holy Mother ! . . . How they have frighted the girl. [Covers her up] There's a little fool — really a little fool ! How they've frighted her ; really, they are vile creatures 1 The deuce take 'em! Curtain. ACT V Scene 1 In front of scene a stack-stand, to the left a thrashing ground, to the right a ham. The barn doors are open. Straw is strenm about in the doorway. The hut with yard and out- buildings is seen in the background, whence proceed sounds of singing and of a tambourine. Two Girls are walking past the ham towards the hut. FIRST GIRL. There, you see we've managed to pass with- out so much as getting our boots dirty ! But to come by the street is terribly muddy ! [Stop and wipe their boots on the scram. First Girl looks at the straw and sees something] What's that ? SECOND GIRL [looks whcrc the straw lies and sees some one] It's Mitritch, their labourer. Just look how drunk he is ! FIRST GIRL. Why, I thought he didn't drink. SECOND GIRL. It seems he didn't, until it was going around. FIRST GIRL. Just see ! He must have come to fetch some straw. Look ! he's got a rope in his hand, and he's fallen asleep. SECOND GIRL [listening] They're still singing the praises.^ So I s'pose the bride and bridegroom have not yet been blessed ! They say Akoulina didn't even lament ! ^ FIRST GIRL. Mammie says she is marrying against her ' This refers to the songs custOKiary at the wedding of Russian peasants, praising the bride and bridegroon.. ' It is etiquette for a bride to bewail the approaching loss of her maidenhood. 8a The Power of Darkness 83 wiU. Her stepfather threatened her, or else she'd not have done it for the world ! Why, you know what they've been saying about her ? MARINA [catching up the Girb'] How d'you do, lassies ? GIRLS. How d'you do ? MARINA. Going to the wedding, my dears ? FIRST GIRL. It's nearly over ! We've come just to have a look. MARINA. Would you call my old man for me ? Simon, from Zoiievo ; but surely you know him ? FIRST GIRL. To be sure we do ; he's a relative of the bridegroom's, I think .' MARINA. Of course ; he's my old man's nephew, the bridegroom is. SECOND GIRL. Why don't you go yourself? Fancy not going to a wedding ! MARfNA. I have no mind for it, and no time either. It's time for us to be going home. We didn't mean to come to the wedding. We were taking oats to town. We only stopped to feed the horse, and they made my old man go in. FIRST GIRL. Where did you put up then ? At Fy6dor- itch's ? MARINA. Yes. Well then, I'll stay here and you go and call him, my dear — my old man. Call him, my pet, and say " Your missis, Marina, says you must go now ! " His mates are harnessing. FIRST GIRL. Well, all right — if you won't go in yourself. The Girls go away towards the house along a footpath. Sounds oj" songs and tambourine. MARINA [alone, stands thinMng\ I might go in, but I don't like to, because I have not met him since that day he threw me over. It's more than a year now. But I'd have liked to have a peep and see how he lives with his Anisya. People say they don't get on. She's a coarse woman, and with a character of her own. I should think 84 The Power of Darkness he's remembered me more than once. He's been caught by the idea of a comfortable life and has changed me for it. But, God help him, I don't cherish ill-will! Then it hurt ! Oh dear, it was pain ! But now it's worn away and been forgotten. But I'd like to have seen him. [Looks towards hut and sees Nikita] Look there ! Why, he is coming here ! Have the girls told him .'' How's it he has left his guests .'' I'll go away ! [NikUa approaches, hanging his head doivn, swinging his arms, and mutteringl And how sullen he looks ! NIKITA [sees and recognises Marina^ Marina, dearest friend, little Marina, what do you want? MARINA. I have come for my old man. NIKITA. Why didn't you come to the wedding ? You might have had a look round, and a laugh at my expense ! MARINA. What have I to laugh at ? I've come for my husband. NIKITA. Ah, Marina dear ! [Tries to embrace her']. MARINA [step's angrily aside] You'd better^ drop that sort of thing, Nikita ! What has been, is past i I've come for my husband. Is he in your house ? NIKITA. So I must not remember the past ? You won't let me ? MARINA. It's no use recalling the past ! What used to be is over now ! NIKITA. And can never come back, you mean } MARINA. And will never come back ! But why have you gone away ? You, the master, — and to go away from the feast ! NIKITA [sits down on the strarv] Why have I gone away .'' Eh, if you knew, if you had any idea . . . I'm dull, Marina, so dull that I wish my eyes would not see ! I rose from the table and left them, to get away from the people. If I could only avoid seeing any one ! MARfNA [coming nearer to him] How's that ? NIKITA. This is how it is : vifhen I eat^,it'j_there ! When The Power of Darkness 85 I drinkj^it's there ! When I sleep, it's there ! I'm so sick of it^so sick ! But it's chiefly because I'm all alone that I'm so sick, little Marina. I hare no one-to-share my trouble. MARINA. You can't live your life without trouble, Nikita. However, I've wept over mine and wept it away. NIKITA. Thfe-fbrraer, the old trouble ! Ah, dear friend, you've wept yours away, an,d I've, got mijie.up to tbej;@ ! [Puifkis-hemd to his tkrocct]. MARINA. But why ? NIKITA. Why, I'm pck of .my., whole life.l.. I am sick of myself.! Ah, -Marina, why did you not know bow to keep me ? You've ruined me, and yourself too! Is this life? MARINA \stand.s by the bam crying, but restrains herself '\ I do not complain of my life, Nikita ! God grant every one a life like mine. I do not complain. I confessed to my aid man at the time, and he forgave me. .^, Anihe does not reproach me."" I'm not discontented with my life. The old'man is quiet, and is fond of me, and I k«ep his children clothed and washed ! He is really kind to me. Why should I complain } It seems God willed it so. And what's the matter with your life ? You are rich . . . NiKfTA. My life ! . . . It's only that I don't wish to dis- turb the wedding feast, or I'd take this rope here [takes hold of the rope on the strarv\ and throw it across that rafter there. Then I'd make a noose and stretch it out, and I'd climb on to that rafter and jump down with my head in the noose ! That's what my life is ! MARINA. That's enough ! Lord help you ! NIKITA. You think I'm joking.'' You think I'm drunk.' I'm not drunk ! To-day even drink takes no hold on mei I'm devoured by misery ! Misery is eating me up com- pletely, so that I care for nothing ! Oh, little Marina, it's only with you I ever lived I Do you remeniBer htjw we used to-while away the nights together at thcrailway } MARINA. Don't you rub the sores, Nikita ' I'm bound 86 The Power of Darkness legally now, and you too. My sin has been forgiven, don't disturb . . . niki'ta. What shall I do with my heart ? Where am I to turn to? MARINA. What's there to be done .'' You've got a wife. Don't go looking at others, but keep to your, own ! You loved ^nisya, then go on loving her ! NiKiTA. Oh, that Anisya, she'? gall and wormwood to me, but she's round my feet like rank weeds ! MARINA. Whatever she is, still she's your wife. . . . But what's the use of talking; you'd better go to your visitors, and send my husband to me. niki'ta. Oh dear, if you knew the whole business . . . but there's no good talking ! Enter Marina's husband, red and tipsy, and Nan. Marina's husband. Marina ! Missis ! My old woman ! are you here .'' niki'ta. There's your husband calling you. Go ! MAHiNA. And you ? NIKITA. I ? I'll lie down here for a bit ! [Lies dotvn on the straw]. HUSBAND. Where is she then ? nan. There she is, near the barn. HUSBAND. What are you standing there for ? Come to the feast ! The hosts want you to come and do them honour ! The wedding party is just going to start, and then we can go too. MARINA [going towards her husband] I didn't want to go in. HUSBAND, Come on, I tell you I You'll drink a glass to our nephew Peter's health, the rascal ! Else the hosts might take oflFence ! There's plenty of time for our business. [Marina's husband puts his arm around her, and goes reeling out with her]. NIKITA [rises and sits down on the straw] Ah, now, that I've seen her, life seems-more sickening than everl Tt^was The Power of Darkness 87 only '^y^tiaJiiat I^evyrjreayy lived ! ,, I've ruined my life for nothing ! I've done for myself ! [Lies domti^ Where can I gO-?,- If mother earth would but open and swallow NAN [sees NiMta, and runs towards him] Daddy, I say, daddy ! They're looking for you ! Her godfather and all of them have already blessed her. Truly they have, they're getting cross ' NiKiTA [aside] Where can I go to ? NAN. What .'' What are you saying .'' NIKITA. I'm not saying anything ! Don't bother ! NAN. Daddy ! Come, I say ! [Nikita is silent, Nan pulls him by the hand] Dad, go and bless them ! My word, they're angry, they're grumbling ! nikIta [drags arvay his hand] Leave me alone ! NAN. Now then ! NIKITA [threatens her with the rope] Go, I say ! I'll give it you ! NAN. Then I'll send mother ! [Runs away]. NIKITA [nm] How oaii,J^ go } How can I take the holy icon in my hands.'' How am -I to look her in the'face'! [Lie* down again] Oh, if there were a hole in the ■gfetrnd^l'd jump in ! No one should see me, and I should see no one ! [Rises again] No, I shan't go . . . May they all go to the devil, I shan't go ! [Takes the rope and makes a noose, and tries it on his neck] That's the way ! Enter Matrydna. Nikita sees his mother, takes the rope off his neck, and again lies down in the straw. matry6na [comes in hurriedly] Nikita ! Nikita, I say ! He don't even answer ! Nikita, what's the matter } Have you had a drop too much } Come, Nikita dear ; come, honey ! The people are tired of waiting. nikita. Oh dear, what have you done with me i I'm a lost man ! matry6na. But what is the matter- then? - Come, my own; come, give them your blessing, as is proper and 88 The Power of Darkness honourable, and then it'll all be over ! Why, the people are waiting ! NiKiTA. Howjian,! giveJalessings-? matry6na. Why, in the usual way ! Don't you know ? NIKITA. I know, I know ! But who is jt,X-anLla,.b]ess ? What have I done to her ? matry6na. What have you done ? Eh, now he's going to remember it ! Why, who knows anything about it ? Not a soul ! And the girl is going of her own accord. NIKITA. Yes, but how ? matry6na. Because she's afraid, of course. But still she's going. Besides, what's to be done now .'' She should have thought sooner ! Now she can't refuse. And his kinsfolk can't take offence either. They saw the girl twice, and get money with her too ! It's all safe and sound ! NiKfTA. Yes, but what's in the cellar ? matry6na [laughs] In the cellar ? Why, cabbages, mush- rooms, potatoes, I suppose ! Why remember the past."* NIKITA. I'd be only too glad to forget it ; but I can't ! When I let my mind go, it's just as if I heard. . . . Oh, what have you done with me ? matry6na. Now, what are you humbugging for ? NIKITA [turns Jace downward] Mother ! Don't torment me ! I've got it up to there ! [Puts his hand to his throat]. matry6na. Still it has to be done ! As it is, people are talking. " The master's gone away and won't come ; he can't make up his mind to give his blessing." They'll be putting two and two together. As soon as they see you're frightened they'll begin guessing. " The thief none suspect who walks bold and erect ! " But you'll be getting out of the frying-pan into the fire ! Above all, lad, don't show it ; don't lose courage, else they'll find out all the more ! NIKITA. Oh dear ! You have snared me into a trap ! matry6na. That'll do, I tell you ; come along ! Come in The Power of Darkness 89 and give your blessing, as is right and honourable ; — and there's an end of the matter ! niki'ta [lies face down] I can't ! matry6na [aside] What has come over him? He seemed all right, and suddenly this comes over him ! It seems he's bewitched ! Get up, Nikita ! See ! There's Anfsya coming ; she's left her guests ! Anisya enters, dressed up, red and tipsy. ANisYA. Oh, how nice it is, mother ! So nice, so respect- able ! And how the people are pleased. . . . But wliere is he? matry6na. Here, honey, he's here ; he's laid down on the straw and there he lies ! He won't come ! NiKiTA [looking at his wife] Just see, she's tipsy too ! When I look at her my heart seems to turn ! How can one live with her? [Turns on his face] I'll kill her some day ! It'll be worse then ! anisya. Only look, how he's got all among the straw ! Is it the drink ? [Laughs] I'd not mind lying down there with you, but I've no time ! Come, I'll lead you ! It is so nice in the house ! It's a treat to look on ! A con- certina ! And the women singing so well ! All tipsy ! Everything so respectable, so nice ! NIKITA. What's nice ? ANi'sYA. The wedding — such a jolly wedding ! They all say it's quite an uncommon fine wedding ! All so respect- able, so nice ! Come along ! We'll go together ! I have had a drop, but I can give you a hand yet ! [Takes his hand]. niki'ta [pulls it back with disgust] Go alone ! I'll come ! ANISYA. What are you humbugging for ? We've got rid of all the bother, we've got rid of her as came between us; ftOw We have nothing to do but to live and be merry ! And all so respectable, and quite legal ! I'm so pleased! I have no words for it ! It's just as if I were going to marry you over again ! And oh, the people, they are 90 The Power of Darkness pleased ! They're all thanking us ! And the guests are all of the best : Ivan Moseitch is there, and the Police Officer ; they've also been singing songs of praise ! NiKiTA. Then you should have stayed with them ! What have you come for ? ANisYA. True enough, I must go back ! Else what does it look like ! The hosts both go and leave the visitors ! And the guests are all of the besti NIKITA [^ei* up and brushes the straw off himselfl Go, and I'll come at once ! matry6na. Just see ! He listens to the young bird, but wouldn't listen to the old one ! He would not hear me, but he follows his wife at once ! [Matri/6na and Anisya turn to go\ Well, are you coming? NIKITA. I'll come directly ! You go and I'll follow ! I'll come and give my blessing ! \The women stopl Go on ! I'll follow ! Now then, go ! \Exit women. Sits down aiid takes his hoots off^ Yes, I'm going ! A likely thing ! No, you'd better look at the rafter for me ! I'll fix the noose and jump with it trom the rafter, then you can look for me! And the rope is here Just handy. \Ponders'\ I'd have got over it, over any sorrow — I'd have got over that. But this now — here it is, dee^ in my heart, and I can't get over it ! \Looks towards the yard] Surely she's not coming back? [Imitates Anisya'\ " So nice, so nice. I'd lie down here with you." Oh, the baggage ! Well then, here I am ! Come and cuddle when they've taken me down from the rafter ! There's only one way ' [Takes the rope and pulls it]. Mitritch, who is tipsy, sits up and won't let go of the rope. MiTRiTCH. Shan't give it up ! Shan't give it to no one ! I'll bring it myself! I said I'd bring the straw — and so I will ! Nikita, is that you ? [Laughs] Oh, the devil ' Have you come to get the straw ? NiKiTA. Give me the rope ! MITRITCH. No, you Wait a bit ! The peasants sent meJ I'll bring it . . . [Rises to his feet and begins getting the stratv 73 cn W Pi < Q h O w o fd H . K . <; TANYA. Well, Simon wrote to his father; and he, his 158 Fruits of Culture father, sees me to-day, and says : " He's spoilt " — he means his son. Theodore Ivanitch [bomsj, take the place of a father to me, speak to the old man, — to Simon's father ! I could take them into the kitchen, and you might come in and speak to the old man ! THEODORE IVANITCH [smiUng] Then I am to turn match- maker — am I ? Well, I can do that. TANYA. Theodore Ivanitch, dearest, be a father to me, and I'll pray for you all my life long. THEODORE IVANITCH. All right, all right, I'll come later on. Haven't I promised .'' [Takes up newspaper^. TANYA. You are a second father to me ! THEODORE IVANITCH. All right, all right. TANYA. Then I'll rely on you. [£j^'i]. THEODORE IVANITCH \alone, shaking his head] A good affec- tionate girl. To think that so many like her perish ! Get but once into trouble and she'll go from hand to hand until she sinks into the mire, and can never be found again ! There was that dear little Nataly. She, too, was a good girl, reared and cared for by a mother. [Takes up paper] Well, let's see what tricks Ferdinand is up to in Bulgaria. Curtain. ACT II Evening of the same day. The scene represents the interior of the servants' Mtchen. The Peasants have taken off their outer garments and sit drinking tea at the table, and perspiring. Theodore Ivdnitch is smoking a cigar at the other side of the stage. The discharged Cook is lying on the brick oven, and is unseen during the early part of the scene. THEODORE iVANiTCH. My advicc is, don't hinder him ! If it's his wish and hers, in Heaven's name let him do it. She is a good, honest girl. Never mind her being a bit dressy ; she can't help that, living in town : she is a good girl all the same. SECOND PEASANT. Well, of coursc, if it is his wish, let him ! He'll have to live with her, not me. But she's certainly uncommon spruce. How's one to take her into one's hut .'' Why, she'll not let her mother-in-law so much as pat her on the head. THEODORE IVANITCH. That docs Hot depend on the spruce- ness, but on character. If her nature is good, she's sure to be docile and respectful. SECOND PEASANT. Ah, wcU, wc'll havc her if the lad's bent on having her. After all, it's a bad job to live with one as one don't care for. I'll consult my missus, and then may Heaven bless them ! THEODORE IVANITCH. Then let's shake hands on it ! SECOND PEASANT. Well, it sccms it will have to come off. FIRST PEASANT. Eh, Zachary ! fortune's a-smiling on you ! You've come to accomplish a piece of business, and just see what a duchess of a daughter-in-law you've obtained. "59 i6o Fruits of Culture All that's left to be done is to have a drink on it, and then it will be all in order. THEODORE iVANiTCH. That's not at all necessary. [^« awkward silence]. THEODORE IVANITCH. I know Something of your way of life too, you know. I am even thinking of purchasing a bit of land, building a cottage, and working on the land myself somewhere : maybe in your neighbourhood. SECOND PEASANT. A vcry good thing too. FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. When one has got the money one can get all kinds of pleasure in the country. THIRD PEASANT. Say no more about it ! Country life, let's say, is freer in every way, not like the town ! THEODORE IVANITCH. There now, would you let me join your Commune if I settled among you .'' SECOND PEASANT. Why not .'' If you stand drink for the Elders, they'll accept you soon enough ! FIRST PEASANT. And if you open a public-house, for example, or an inn, why, you'd have such a life you'd never need to die ! You might live like a king, and no mistake. THEODORE IVANITCH. Well, We'll scc. I should certainly like to have a few quiet years in my old age. Though my life here is good enough, and I should be sorry to leave. Leonid Fyodoritch is an exceedingly kind-hearted man. FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. But how about our busi- ness ? Is it possible that he is going to leave it without any termination ? THEODORE IVANITCH. He'd do it willingly. SECOND PEASANT. It secms hc's afraid of his wife. THEODORE IVANITCH. It's not that he's afraid, but they don't hit things off together. THIRD PEASANT. But you should try, father ! How are we to live else ? We've so little land . . . THEODORE IVANITCH. We'll sec wliat comes of Tanya's attempt. She's taken the business into her hands now ! Fruits of Culture i6i THIRD PEASANT [talces o Sip of teo] Father, be merciful. We've so little land. A hen, let's say, we've no room for a hen, let alone the cattle. THEODORE iVANiTCH. If the business depended on me. ... [To Second Peasant] Well, friend, so we've done our bit of match - making ! It's agreed then about Tanya ? SECOND PEASANT. I've given my word, and I'll not go back on it without a good reason. If only our business succeeds ! Enter Servants' Cook who looks up at the oven, makes a sign, and then begins to speak animatedly to Theodore Ivdnitch. servants' cook. Just now Simon was called upstairs from the front kitchen ! The master and that other bald- headed one who calls up spirits with him, ordered him to sit down and take the place of Kaptchltch ! THEODORE IVANITCH. You don't Say so ! servants' cook. Yes, Jacob told Tanya. THEODORE IVANITCH. Extraordinary ! Enter Coachman. THEODORE IVANITCH. What do you want ? COACHMAN [to Thcodorc Ivdnitch] You may just tell them I never agreed to live with a lot of dogs ! Let any one who likes do it, but I will never agree to live among dogs ! THEODORE IVANITCH. What dogS ? COACHMAN. Three dogs have been sent into our room by Vasily Leoniditch ! They've messed it all over. They're whining, and if one comes near them they bite— the devils ! They'd tear you to pieces if you didn't mind. I've a good mind to take a club and smash their legs for them ! THEODORE IVANITCH. But whcD did they come ? COACHMAN. Why, to-day, from the Dog Show ; the devil knows what kind they are, but they're an expensive sort. Are we or the dogs to live in the coachmen's quarters ? You just go and ask ! 1 62 Fruits of Culture THEODORE ivANiTCH. YcSj that wiU ncvcr do. I'll go and ask about it. COACHMAN. They'd better be brought here to Loukerya servants' cook [angrih/^ People have to eat here, and you'd like to lock dogs in here ! As it is . . . COACHMAN. And I've got the liveries, and the sledge- covers and the harness there, and they expect things kept clean ! Perhaps the porter's lodge might do. THEODORE IVANITCH. I must ask Vasfly Leoniditch. COACHMAN [angrilt/] He'd better hang the brutes round his neck and lug them about with him ! But no fear : he'd rather ride on horseback himself. It's he as spoilt Beauty without rhyme or reason. That was a horse ! . . . Oh dear ! what a life ! [Exit, slamming doorj. THEODORE IVANITCH. That's not right ! Certainly not right ! [To Peasants] Well then, it's time we were saying good-bye, friends. PEASANTS. Good-bye ! Exit Theodore Ivdnitch. As soon as he is gone a sound of groaning is heard from the lap of the oven. SECOND PEASANT. He's slcck, that one ; looks like a general. servants' cook. Rather ! Why, he has a room all to himself ; he gets his washing, his tea and sugar, and food from the master's table. DISCHARGED COOK [ow the oven] Why shouldn't the old beggar live well? He's lined his pockets all right! SECOND PEASANT. Who's that Up there, on the oven ? servants' cook. Oh, it's only a man. Silence. FIRST PEASANT. Well, and you too, as I noticed a while since when you were supping, have capital food to eat. servants' cook. We can't complain. She's not mean about the food. We have wheat bread every Sunday, and fish when a holiday happens to be a fast-day too, and those who like may eat meat. Fruits of Culture 163 SECOND PEASANT. And docs any one tuck into flesh on fast-days ? servants' cook. Oh, they nearly all do ! Only the old coachman — not the one who was here just now but the old one — and Simon, and I and the housekeeper, fast — all the others eat meat. SECOND PEASANT. And the master himself? servants' cook. Catch him ! Why, I bet he's forgotten there is such a thing as fasting ! THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord ! FIRST PEASANT. That's the gentlefolks' way : they have got it all out of their books. 'Cos of their intelex ! THIRD PEASANT. Shouldn't wonder if they feed on wheat bread every day ! servants' cook. Wheat bread indeed ! Much they think of wheat bread ! You should see what food they eat. No end of different things ! first peasant. In course gentlefolks' food is of an airial kind. servants' cook. Airial, of course, but all the same they're good at stuffing themselves, they are ! FIRST PEASANT. Havc healthy appekites, so to say. servants' cook. 'Cos they always rinse it down ! All with sweet wines, and spirits, and fizzy liquors. They have a different one to suit every kind of food. They eat and rinse it down, and eat and rinse it down, they do. FIRST PEASANT. And SO thc food's floated down in pro- portion, so to say. servants' cook. Ah yes, they are good at stuffing ! It's awful ! You see, it's not just sitting down, eating, then saying grace and going away — they're always at it ! SECOND PEASANT. Like pigs with their feet in the trough ! [Peasants laugK\. servants' cook. As soon as, by God's grace, they have opened their eyes, the samovAr is brought in — tea, coffee, chocolate. Hardly is the second samovar emptied, a third 164 Fruits of Culture has to be set. Then lunch, then dinner, then again coffee. They've hardly left off, then comes tea, and all sorts of tit-bits and sweetmeats — there's never an end to it ! They even lie in bed and eat ! THIRD PEASANT. There now ; that's good ! [Laughs], FIRST AND SECOND PEASANTS. What are you about } THIRD PEASANT. If I could Only livc a single day like that! SECOND PEASANT. But when do they do their work ? servants' cook. Work indeed ! What is their work ? Cards and piano — that's all their work. The young lady used to sit down to the piano as soon as she opened her eyes, and off she'd go ! And that other one who lives here, the teacher, stands and waits. "When will the piano be free ? " When one has finished, off rattles the other, and sometimes they'd put two pianos near one another and four of em would bust out at once. Bust out in such a manner, you could hear 'em down here ! THIRD peasant. Oh Lord ! servants' cook. Well, and that's all the work they do ! Piano or cards ! As soon as they have met together — cards, wine, smoking, and so on all night long. And as soon as they are up : eating again ! Enter Simon. SIMON. Hope you're enjoying your tea ! FIRST peasant. Come and join us. SIMON [comes up to the table] Thank you kindly. [First Peasant pours out a cup of tea for him]. SECOND peasant. Where have you been .' SIMON. Upstairs. SECOND peasant. Well, and what was being done there ? SIMON. Why, I couldn't make it out at all ! I don't know how to explain it. SECOND PEASANT. But what was it ? SIMON. I can't explain it. They have been trying some kind of strength in me. I can't make it out. Tanya says, Fruits of Culture 165 " Do it, and we'll get the land for our peasants ; he'll sell it them." SECOND PEASANT. But how is shc going to manage it ? SIMON. I can't make it out, and she won't say. She says, " Do as I tell you," and that's all. SECOND PEASANT. But what is it you have to do .'' SIMON. Nothing just now. They made me sit down, put out the lights and told me to sleep. And Tanya had hidden herself there. They didn't see her, but I did. SECOND PEASANT. Why ? What for ? SIMON. The Lord only knows — I can't make it out. FIRST PEASANT. Naturally it is for the distraction of time. SECOND PEASANT. Well, it's clear you and I can make nothing of it. You had better tell me whetlier you have taken all your wages yet. SIMON. No, I've not drawn any. I have twenty-eight roubles to the good, I think. SECOND PEASANT. That's all right ! Well, if God grants that we get the land, I'll take you home, Simon. SIMON. With all my heart ! SECOND PEASANT. You'vc got Spoilt, I should say. You'll not want to plough ? SIMON. Plough .>■ Only give me the chance ! Plough or mow, — I'm game. Those are things one doesn't forget. FIRST PEASANT. But it don't secm very desirous after town life, for example ? Eh ! SIMON. It's good enough for me. One can live in the country too. FIRST PEASANT. And Daddy Mitry here, is already on the look-out for your place ; he's hankering after a life of luckshury ! SIMON. Eh, Daddy Mitry, you'd soon get sick of it. It seems easy enough when one looks at it, but there's a lot of running about that takes it out of one. servants' cook. You should see one of their balls. Daddy Mitry, then you would be surprised ! 1 66 Fruits of Culture THIRD PEASANT. Why, do they eat all the time ? servants' cook. My eye ! You should have seen what we had here awhile ago. Theodore Ivanitch took me upstairs and I peeped in. The ladies — awful ! Dressed up ! Dressed up, bless my heart, and all bare down to here, and their arms bare. THIRD peasant. Oh Lord ! SECOND PEASANT. Faugh ! How beastly ! FIRST PEASANT. I take it the climate allows of that sort of thing ! servants' cook. Well, daddy, so I peeped in. Dear me, what it was like ! All of 'em in their natural skins ! Would you believe it : old women — our mistress, only think, she's a grandmother, and even she'd gone and bared her shoulders. third PEASANT. Oh Lord ! servants' cook. And what next ? The music strikes up, and each man of 'em went up to his own, catches hold of her, and off they go twirling round and round ! second PEASANT. The old women too ? servants' cook. Yes, the old ones too. SIMON. No, the old ones sit still. servants' cook. Get along, — I've seen it myself ! SIMON. No they don't. DISCHARGED COOK [in a hoarse voice, looking down from the owera] That's the Polka-Mazurka. You fools don't under- stand what dancing is. The way they dance . . . servants' cook. Shut up, you dancer ! And keep quiet — there's some one coming. Enter Gregory ; old Cook hides hurriedly. GREGORY \to Servants' Cook^ Bring some sour cabbage. servants' cook. I am only just up from the cellar, and now I must go down again ! Who is it for ? GREGORY. For the young ladies. Be quick, and send it up with Simon. I can't wait ! servants' cook. There now, they tuck into sweetmeats Fruits of Culture 167 till they are full up, and then they crave for sour cab- bage ! FIRST PEASANT. That's to make a clearance. servants' cook. Of course, and as soon as there is room inside, they begin again ! [Takes basin, and exit], GREGORY \at Peasants] Look at them, how they've estab- lished themselves down here ! Mind, if the mistress finds it out she'll give it you hot, like she did this morning ! [Exit, laughing]. FIRST PEASANT. That's just it, she did raise a storm that time — awful ! SECOND PEASANT. That time it looked as if the master was going to step in, but seeing that the missus was about to blow the very roof off the house, he slams the door. Have your own way, thinks he. THIRD PEASANT [waving Ms arm] It's the same every- where. My old woman, let's say, she kicks up such a rumpus sometimes — it's just awful ! Then I just get out of the hut. Let her go to Jericho ! She'll give you one with the poker if you don't mind. Oh Lord ! Jacob enters hurriedly with a prescription. JACOB. Here, Simon, you run to the chemist's and get these powders for the mistress ! SIMON. But master told me not to go out. JACOB. You've plenty of time ; your business won't begin till after their tea. Hope you are enjoying your tea ! FIRST PEASANT. Thanks, come and join us. E.nt Simon. JACOB. I haven't time. However, I'll just have one cup for company's sake. FIRST PEASANT. And we'vc just been having a conversa- tion as to how your mistress carried on so haughty this morning. JACOB. Oh, she's a reg'lar fury ! So hot-tempered, that she gets quite beside herself Sometimes she even bursts out crying. 1 68 Fruits of Culture FIRST PEASANT. Now, there's a thing I wanted to ask you about. What, for example, be these mikerots she was illuding to erewhile ? " They've infested the house with mikerots, with mikerots," she says. What is one to make of these same mikerots ? JACOB. Mikerogues, you mean ! Well, it seems there is such a kind of bugs ; all illnesses come from them, they say. So she says there are some of 'em on you. After you were gone, they washed and washed and sprinkled the place where you had stood. There's a kind of physic as kills these same bugs, they say. SECOND PEASANT. Then where have we got these bugs on us .'' JACOB \drinking his tea\ Why, they say they're so small that one can't see 'em even through a glass. SECOND PEASANT. Then how does she know I've got 'em on me .■" Perhaps there's more of that muck on her than on me ! JACOB. There now, you go and ask her ! SECOND PEASANT. I belicve it's humbug. JACOB. Of course it's bosh. The doctors must invent something, or else what are they paid for ? There's one comes to us every day. Comes, — talks a bit, — and pockets ten roubles ! SECOND PEASANT. Nonsensc ! JACOB. Why, there's one as takes a hundred ! FIRST PEASANT. A hundred ? Humbug ! JACOB. A hundred. Humbug, you say.'' Why, if he has to go out of town, he'll not do it for less than a thou- sand ! " Give a thousand," he says, " or else you may kick the bucket for what I care ! " THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord ! SECOND PEASANT. Then does he know some charm ? JACOB. I suppose he must. I served at a General's out- side Moscow once : a cross, terrible proud old fellow he was — just awful. Well, this General's daughter fell ill. They send for that doctor at once. " A thousand roubles. Fruits of Culture 169 then I'll come." Well, they agreed, and he came. Then they did something or other he didn't like, and he bawled out at the General and says, " Is this the way you show your respect for me ? Then I'll not attend her ! " And, oh my ! The old General forgot all his pride, and starts wheedling him in every way not to chuck up the job ! FIRST PEASANT. And he got the thousand ? JACOB. Of course ! SECOND PEASANT. That's casy got money. What wouldn't a peasant do with such a sum ! THIRD PEASANT. And I think it's all bosh. That time my foot was festering I had it doctored ever so long. I spent nigh on five roubles on it, — then I gave up doctoring, and it got all right ' Discharged Cook on the oven coughs. JACOB. Ah, the old crony is here again ! FIRST PEASANT. Who might that man be .' JACOB. He used to be our master's cook. He comes to see Loukerya. FIRST PEASANT. Kitchcn-master, as one might say. Then, does he live here .' JACOB. No, they won't allow that. He's here one day, there another. If he's got a copper he goes to a doss- house ; but when he has drunk all, he comes here. SECOND PEASANT. How did he come to this ? JACOB. Simply grew weak. And what a man he used to be — like a gentleman ! Went about with a gold watch ; got forty roubles a month wages. And now look at him ! He'd have starved to death long ago if it hadn't been for Loukerya. Enter Servants' Cook with the sour cabbage. JACOB [to Servants' Cook] I see you've got Paul Petrov- itch here again ? servants' cook. And where's he to go to .'' Is he to go and freeze ? 170 Fruits of Culture THIRD PEASANT. What liquoF does. . . . Liquor, let's say . . . [Clicks his tongue sympathetically\. SECOND PEASANT. Of coursc. A firm man's firm as a rock ; a weak man's weaker than water. DISCHARGED COOK \gets offthc oven with trembling hands and legs^ Loukerya, I say, give us a drop ! servants' COOK, What are you up to ? I'll give you such a drop ! . . . DISCHARGED COOK. Havc you no conscience ? I'm dying ! Brothers, a copper . . . servants' COOK. Get back on the oven, I tell you ! DISCHARGED COOK. Half a glass only, cook, for Heaven's sake ! I say, do you understand .'' I ask you in the name of Heaven, now ! servants' cook. Come along, here's some tea for you. DISCHARGED COOK. Tea ; what is tea .'' Weak, sloppy stuff. A little vodka — just one little drop . . . Loukerya! THIRD peasant. Poor old soul, what agony it is ! second peasant. You'd better give him some. servants' cook [gets out a bottle and Jills a wine-glass] Here you are ; you'll get no more. DISCHARGED COOK [clutckes hold of it and drinks, trembling all over] Loukerya, Cook ! I am drinking, and you must understand . . . servants' cook. Now then, stop your chatter ! Get on to the oven, and Jet not a breath of you be heard ! [The old Cook meekly begins to climb up, muttering something to himself]. SECOND peasant. What it is, when a man gives way to his weakness ! FIRST PEASANT. That's just it — human weakness. THIRD PEASANT. That gocs without saying. The Discharged Cook settles down, muttering all the time. Silence. SECOND PEASANT. I Want to ask you something : that girl of Aksinya's as comes from our village and is living Fruits of Culture 171 here. How is she? What is she like? How is she living — I mean, does she live honest ? JACOB. She's a nice girl ; one can say nothing but good of her. servants' cook. I'll tell you straight, daddy; I know this here establishment out and out, and if you mean to have Tinya for your son's wife — be quick about it, before she comes to grief, or else she'll not escape ! JACOB. Yes, that's true. A while ago we had a girl here, Nataly. She was a good girl too. And she was lost without rhyme or reason. No better than that chap ! [Pointing to the old Coo¥\. servants' cook. There's enough to dam a mill-pool, with the likes of us, as perish ! 'Cos why, every one is tempted by the easy life and the good food. And see there, — as soon as one has tasted the good food she goes and slips. And once she's slipped, they don't want her, but get a fresh one in her place. So it was with dear little Nataly ; she also slipped, and they turned her out. She had a child and fell ill, and died in the hospital last spring. And what a girl she used to be ! THIRD peasant. Oh Lord ! People are weak ; they ought to be pitied. DISCHARGED COOK. Thosc dcvils pity ? No fear ! [He hangs his legs donrnfrom the oven] I have stood roasting myself by the kitchen range for thirty years, and now that I am not wanted, I may go and die like a dog. . . . Pity indeed ! . . . first peasant. That's just it. It's the old circum- stances. SECOND PEASANT. While they drank and they fed, you were " curly head." When they'd finished the prog, 'twas "Get out, mangy dog I" THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord 1 DISCHARGED COOK. Much you know. What is " Sautey a la Bongmont " ? What is " Bavassary " ? Oh, the things 172 Fruits of Culture I could make ! Think of it ! The Emperor tasted my work, and now the devils want me no longer. But I am not going to stand it ! servants' cook. Now then, stop that noise, mind. . , . Get up right into the corner, so that no one can see you, or else Theodore Ivanitch or some one may come in, and both you and me'll be turned out ! [SilcTicej. JACOB. And do you know my part of the country .'' I'm from Voznesensky. SECOND PEASANT. Not know it? Why, it's no more'n ten miles from our village ; not that across the ford ! Do you cultivate any land there .'' JACOB. My brother does, and I send my wages. Though I live here, I am dying for a sight of home. FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. SECOND PEASANT. Then Anisim is your brother ? JACOB. Own brother. He lives at the farther end of the village. SECOND PEASANT. Of coursc, I know ; his is the third house. Enter Tdnya, running. TANYA. Jacob, what are you doing, amusing yourself here } She is calling you ' JACOB. I'm coming ; but what's up ? TANYA. Frisk is barking ; it's hungry. And she's scold- ing you. " How cruel he is," she says. " He's no feel- ing," she says. " It's long past Frisk's dinner-time, and he has not brought her food ! " \Lau^is\. JACOB \nses to go\ Oh, she's cross ? What's going to happen now, I wonder } servants' COOK. Here, take the cabbage with you. JACOB. All right, give it here. \Talies hasin, and exit]. first PEASANT. Who is going to dine now ? TANYA. Why, the dog ! It's her dog [Sits down and takes up the tea-pot'] Is there any more tea ? I've brought some. [Puts fresh tea into the tea-pot.] Fruits of Culture 173 FIRST PEASANT. Dinner for a dog ? TANYA. YeSj of course ! They prepare a special cutlet for her ; it must not be too fat. And I do the washing — the dog's washing, I mean. THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord ! TANYA. It's like that gentleman who had a funeral for his dog. SECOND PEASANT. What's that ? TANYA. Why, some one told me he had a dog — I mean the gentleman had a dog. And it died. It was winter, and he went in his sledge to bury that dog. Well, he buried it, and on the way home he sits and cries — the gentleman does. Well, there was such a bitter frost that the coachman's nose keeps running, and he has to keep wiping it. Let me fill your cup ! [Fills it] So he keeps wiping his nose, and the gentleman sees it, and says, "What are you crying about .'' " And the coachman, he says, " Why, sir, how can I help it ; is there another dog like him ? " [Laughs]. SECOND PEASANT. And I darcsay he thinks to himself, "If your own self was to kick the bucket I'd not cry." [Laughs]. DISCHARGED COOK [from Up 071 the oven] That is true ; that's right ! TANYA. Well, the gentleman, he gets home and goes straight to his lady : " What a good-hearted man our coachman is ; he was crying all the way home about poor Dash. Have him called. . . . Here, drink this glass of v6dka," he says, "and here's a rouble as a reward for you." That's just like her saying Jacob has no feelings for her dog ! [The Peasants laugh]. FIRST PEASANT. That's the style ! SECOND PEASANT. That was a go ! THIRD PEASANT. Ay, lassic, but you've set us a-laughing ! TANYA [pouring out more tea] Have some more ! Yes, it only seems that our life is pleasant ; but sometimes it is very disgusting, — clearing up all their messes ! Faugh ! It's 174 Fruits of Culture better in the country. IPeasants turn their cups upside-down, as a polite sign that they have had enough. Tdnya pours out more tea] Have some more, Efim Antonitch. I'll fill your cup, Mitry Vlasitch. THIRD PEASANT. All right, fill it, fill it. FIRST PEASANT. Well, dear, and what progression is our business making ? TANYA. It's getting on . . . FIRST PEASANT. SimOH told US . . . TANYA [quickli/j Did he ? SECOND PEASANT. But he could not make us understand. TANYA. I can't tell you now, but I'm doing my best — all I can ! And I've got your paper here ! [Shows the paper hidden under the bib of her apron] If only one thing succeeds. . . . [Shrieks] Oh, how nice it would be ! SECOND PEASANT. Don't losc that paper, mind. It has cost money. TANYA. Never fear. You only want him to sign it ? Is that all > THIRD PEASANT. Why, what else ? Let's say he's signed it, and it's done ! [Turns his cup upside-dorvn] I've had enough. TANYA [aside] He'll sign it ; you'll see he will. . . Have some more. [Pours out tea]. FIRST PEASANT. If Only you get this business about the sale of the land settled, the Commune would pay your marriage expenses. [Itefuses the tea]. TANYA [pouring out tea] Do have another cup. THIRD PEASANT. You get it donc, and we'll arrange your marriage, and I myself, let's say, will dance at the wedding. Though I've never danced in all my bom days, I'll dance then! TANYA [laughing] All right, I'll be in hopes of it. [Silence]. SECOND PEASANT [examitics Tdnya] That's all very well, but you're not fit for peasant work. TANYA. Who .'' I ? Why, don't you think me strong Fruits of Culture 175 enough ? You should see me lacing up my mistress. There's many a peasant couldn't tug as hard. SECOND PEASANT. Where do you tug her to ? TANYA. Well, there's a thing made with bone, like — some- thing like a stiff jacket, only up to here ! Well, and I pull the strings just as when you saddle a horse — when you . . . what d'ye call it .'' You know, when you spit on your hands ! SECOND PEASANT. Tighten the girths, you mean. TANYA. Yes, yes, that's it. And you know I mustn't shove against her with my knee. [Laughs]. SECOND PEASANT. Why do you pull her in ? TANYA. For a reason ! SECOND PEASANT. Why, is shc doing penance ? TANYA. No, it's for beauty's sake ! FIRST PEASANT. That's to say, you pull in her paunch for appearance' sake. TANYA. Sometimes I lace her up so that her eyes are ready to start from her head, and she says, " Tighter," till my hands tingle. And you say I'm not strong ! [Peasants laugh and shake their heads\ TANYA. But here, I've been jabbering. [Runs away, laughing\. THIRD PEASANT. Ah, the lassie has made us laugh ! FIRST PEASANT. Shc's a tidy one ! SECOND PEASANT. She's not bad. Enter Sahdtof and Vasily Leoniditch. Sahdtqf holds a tea- spoon in his hand. VASiLY LEONfDiTCH. Not exactly a dinner, but a dejeuner dinatoire. And first-rate it was, I tell you. Ham of suck- ing-pig, delicious ! Roulier feeds one splendidly ! I've only just returned. [Sees Peasants^ Ah, the peasants are here again ! SAHATOF. Yes, yes, that's all very well, but we came here to hide this article. Where shall we hide it ? VASILY LEONfDiTCH. Excusc mc a moment. [To Servants Coolc] Where are the dogs .' 176 Fruits of Culture servants' cook. In the coachman's quarters. You can't keep dogs in the servants' kitchen ! VAsiLY LEONiDiTCH. Ah, in the coachman's quarters } All right. SAHATOF. I am waiting. VASILY LEONIDITCH. Excusc me, plcasc. Eh, what? Hide it ? I'll tell you what. Let's put it into one of the peasants' pockets. That one. I say, where's your pocket.? Eh, what ? THIRD PEASANT. What foT d'ye want my pocket ? You're a good "un ! My pocket ! There's money in my pocket ! VASILY LEONIDITCH. Whcrc's your bag, then ? THIRD PEASANT. What for ? servants' cook. What d'you mean? That's the young master ! VASILY LEONIDITCH [latigks. To SuMtof] D'you know why he's so frightened ? Shall I tell you ? He's got a heap of money. Eh, what ? SAHATOF. Yes, yes, I see. Well, you talk to them a bit, and I'll put it into that bag without being observed, so that they should not notice and could not point it out to him. Talk to them. VASILY LEONIDITCH. All right! [To Peasants] Well then, old fellows, how about the land ? Are you buying it ? Eh, what ? FIRST PEASANT. We havc made an offering, so to say, with our whole heart. But there, — the business don't come into action nohow. VASILY LEONIDITCH. You should not be so stingy ! Land is an important matter ! I told you about planting mint. Or else tobacco would also do. FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. Every kind of producks. THIRD PEASANT. And you help us, master. Ask your father. Or else how are we to live ? There's so little land. A fowl, let's say, there's not enough room for a fowl to run about. Fruits of Culture 177 SAHATOF [having put the spoon into a hag belonging to the Third Peasant'] Cestfait. Ready. Come along. [£.w7]. VASiLY LEONiDiTCH. So doii't be stingy ! Eh } Well, good-bye. [jEa;zV]. THIRD PEASANT. Didn't I Say, come to some lodging- house .' Well, supposing we'd had to give three-pence each, then at least we'd have been in peace. As to here, the Lord be merciful ! " Give us the money," he says. What's that for ? SECOND PEASANT. He's drunk, I daresay. Peasants turn their cups upside-domn, rise, and cross them- selves. FIRST PEASANT. And d'you mind what a saying he threw out ? Sowing mint ! One must know how to understand them, that one must ! SECOND PEASANT. Sow mint indeed ! He'd better bend his own back at that work, and then it's not mint he'll hanker after, no fear ! Well, many thanks ! . . . And now, good woman, would you tell us where we could lie down to sleep ? servants' cook. One of you can lie on the oven, and the others on these benches. THIRD PEASANT. Christ savc you ! [Prays, crossing him- self]. FIRST PEASANT. If Only by God's help we get our busi- ness settled ! [Lies down] Then to-morrow, after dinner, we'd be off by the train, and on Tuesday we'd be home again. SECOND PEASANT. Are you going to put out the light } servants' cook. Put it out .' Oh no ! They'll keep running down here, first for one thing then another. . . . You lie down, I'll lower it. SECOND peasant. How is one to live, having so little land.' Why, this year, I have had to buy com since Christmas. And the oat-straw is all used up. I'd like to get hold of ten acres, and then I could take Simon back. M 178 Fruits of Culture THIRD PEASANT. You'rc a man with a family. You'd get the land cultivated without trouble. If only the business comes off. SECOND PEASANT. We must pray to the Holy Virgin, maybe she'll help us out. [Silence, broken hy sighs. Then footsteps and voices are heard outside. The door opens. Enter Grossman hurriedly, with his eyes bandaged, holding Sahdtofs hand, and followed by the Professor and the Doctor, the Fat Lady and Leonid Fyddoritch, Betsy and Petristchef, Vasily Leoniditch and Mdrya Konstantinoma, Anna Pdvlovna and the Baroness, Theodore Ivdnitch and Tdnya'\, Peasants jump up. Grossman comes forward stepping quickly, then stops. FAT LADY. You need not trouble yourselves ; I have undertaken the task of observing, and am strictly fulfilling my duty ! Mr. Sahatof, are you not leading him ? SAHATOF. Of course not ! FAT LADY. You must not lead him, but neither must you resist ! \To Leonid Fyddoritch^ I know these experiments. I have tried them myself. Sometimes I used to feel a certain effluence, and as soon as I felt it . . . LEONID fy6doritch. May I beg of you to keep perfect silence ? FAT LADY. Oh, I Understand so well ! I have experi- enced it myself. As soon as my attention was diverted I could no longer . . . LEONID fy6doritch. Sh . . . ! Grossman goes about, searches near the First and Second Peasants, then approaches the Third, and stumbles over a bench. BARONESS. Mais dites-moi, on le paye ? ^ ANNA PAVLOVNA. Je ne saurais vous dire. ' BARONESS. But tell me, please, is he paid for this ? ANNA pAvlovna. I really do not know. Fruits of Culture 179 BARONESS. Mais c'est un monsieur ? i ANNA PAVLOVNA. Oh, oui ! BARONESS. Qa tient du miraculeux. N'est ce pas ? Com- ment est-ce qu'il trouve ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. Je tie saurais vents dire. Mon mart vous V expliquera. \Noticing Peasants, turns round, and sees the Servants' CooK\ Pardon . . . what is this .'' Baroness goes up to the group. ANNA PAVLOVNA \to Servants' Cook'\ Who let the peasants in.? servants' cook. Jacob brought them in. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Who gave Jacob the order ? servants' COOK. I can't say. Theodore Ivanitch has seen them. anna PAVLOVNA. Leonid ! Leonid Fyddoritch does not hear, being absorbed in the search, and says, Sh . . . ANNA PAVLOVNA. Theodore Ivdnitch ! What is the mean- ing of this ? Did you not see me disinfecting the whole hall, and now the whole kitchen is infected, all the rye bread, the milk . . . THEODORE IVANITCH. I thought there would not be any danger if they came here. The men have come on business. They have far to go, and are from our village. ANNA PAVLOVNA. That's the worst of it ! They are from the Koursk village, where people are dying of diph- theria like flies ! But the chief thing is, I ordered them out of the house ! . . . Did I, or did I not ? [Ap- proaches the others that have gathered round the Peasants] Be careful ! Don't touch them — they are all infected with ' BABONESS. But he is a gentleman ? ANNA plVLOVNA. Oh yes 1 BARONESS. It is alnaost miraculous. Isn't it 1 How does he manage to find things ? ANNA pAvlovna. I really can't tell you. My husband will explain it to you. . . . Excuse me. . . , i8o Fruits of Culture diphtheria ! [No one heeds her, and she steps aside in a dignified manner and stands quietly waiting]. PETRi'sTCHEF [sniffs loudly] I don't know if it is diph- theriaj but there is some kind of infection in the air. Don't you notice it ? BETSY. Stop your nonsense ! Vovo, which bag is it in } VASiLY LEONiDiTCH. That One, that one. He is getting near, very near ! PETRisTCHEF. Is it Spirits divine, or spirits of wine .'' BETSY. Now your cigarette comes in handy for once. Smoke closer, closer to me. Petristchef leans over her and smokes at her. VASILY LEONIDITCH. He's getting near, I tell you. Eh, what ? GROSSMAN [searches excitedly round the Third Peasant] It is here ; I feel it is ! FAT LADY. Do you fccl Eu cfflucnce } [Grossman stoops and finds the spoon in the l>ag\. ALL. Bravo ! [General enthusiasm]. VASILY LEONIDITCH. Ah ! So that's where our spoon was. [To Peasants] Then that's the sort you are ! THIRD PEASANT. What sort .'' I didn't take your spoon ! What are you making out .'' I didn't take it, and my soul knows nothing about it. I didn't take it— there ! Let him do what he likes. I knew he came here for no good. " Where's your bag ? " says he. I didn't take it, the Lord is my witness ! [Crosses himself] I didn't take it! The young people group round the Peasant, laughing. LEONID fy6doritch [angrily to his son] Always playing the fool ! [To the Third Peasant] Never mind, friend ! We know you did not take it ; it was only an experiment. GROSSMAN [removes bandage from his eyes, and pretends to he coming to] Can I have a little water.'' [All fuss round him], VAsfLY LEONIDITCH. Lct's go Straight from here into the Fruits of Culture i8i coachman's room. I've got a bitch there — epdlante ! ' Eh, what ? BETSY. What a horrid word. Couldn't you say dog ? VASiLY LEONiDiTCH. No. I Can't Say — Betsy is a man, epdtant. I should have to say young woman ; it's a parallel case. Eh, what ? Marya Konstantinovna, isn't it true } Good, eh } [Laughs loudly]. MARYA KONSTANTiNOVNA. Well, let US go. \Exeunt Mania Konstantinovna, Betsy, Petristchef, and Vasily LeonidiichX FAT LADY [to Grossman] Well .'' how are you ? Have you rested ? [Grossman does not answer. To Sahdtqf] And you, Mr. Sahatof, did you feel the effluence .'' SAHATOF. I felt nothing. Yes, it was very fine — very fine. Quite a success ! BARONESS. Admirable / Qa ne le fait pas souffrir ? ^ LEONID fy6doritch. Pas le mains du monde. PROFESSOR [to Grossman] May I trouble you? [Hands him a thermometer] At the beginning of the experiment it was 37 decimal 2, degrees.* [To Doctor] That's right, I think ? Would you mind feeling his pulse .'' Some loss is inevitable. DOCTOR [to Grossman] Now then, sir, let's have your hand ; we'll see, we'll see. [Takes out his watch, and feels Grossman's pulse]. FAT LADY [to Ghrossman] One moment ! The condition you were in could not be called sleep .'' GROSSMAN [wearily] It was hypnosis. SAHATOF. In that case, are we to understand that you hypnotised yourself? GROSSMAN. And why not ? An hypnotic state may ensue not only in consequence of association — the sound of the tom-tom, for instance, in Charcot's method — but by merely entering an hypnogenetic zone. 1 Stunning ! 2 BAEONBSS. Capital ! Does it not cause him any pain ? LBONfD ft6doeitch. Not the slightest. ' He uses a Centigrade thermometer. 1 82 Fruits of Culture SAHATOF. Granting that, it would still be desirable to define what hypnotism is, more exactly ? PROFESSOR. Hypnotism is a phenomenon resulting from the transmutation of one energy into another. GROSSMAN. Charcot does not so define it. SAHATOF. A moment, just a moment ! That is your definition, but Liebault told me himself . . . DOCTOR [lets go of Grossman's pulse] Ah, that's all right ; well now, the temperature ? FAT LADY [interrupting] No, allow me ! I agree with the Professor. And here's the very best proof. After my illness, when I lay insensible, a desire to speak came over me. In general I am of a silent disposition, but then I was overcome by this desire to speak, and I spoke and spoke, and I was told that I spoke in such a way that every one was astonished! [To Sahdtqf] But I think I interrupted you ? SAHATOF [mith dignity] Not at all. Pray continue. DOCTOR. Pulse 82, and the temperature has risen three- tenths of a degree. PROFESSOR. There you are ! That's a proof ! That's just as it should be. [Takes out pocket-book and writes] 82, yes.' And 37 and 5. When the hypnotic state is induced, it invariably produces a heightened action of the heart. DOCTOR. I can, as a medical man, bear witness that your prognosis was justified by the event. PROFESSOR [to Sahdtqf] You were saying ? . . . SAHATOF. I wished to say that Liebault told me him- self that the hypnotic is only one particular psychical state, increasing susceptibility to suggestion. PROFESSOR. That is so, but still the law of equivalents is the chief thing. GROSSMAN. Moreover, Liebault is far from being an authority, while Charcot has studied the subject from all sides, and has proved that hypnotism produced by a blow, a trauma . . . Fruits of Culture 183 SAHATOF. Yes, but I don't reject Charcot's labour . I know him also, I am only repeating what Liebault told me . . . GROSSMAN [excitedli/j There are SOOO patients in the Salpetrifere, and I have gone through the whole course. PROFESSOR. Excuse me, gentlemen, but that is not ,the point. FAT LADY [interrupting] One moment, I will explain it to you in two words .'' When my husband was ill, all the doctors gave him up . . . LEONfn fy6doritch. However, we had better go upstairs again. Baroness, this way ! Exeunt Grossman, Sahdtqf, Professor, Doctor, the Fat Lady, and Baroness, talking loudly and interrupting each other. hf(ti\ PAVLOVNA \catching hold of Leonid Fyddoritch's arm] How often have I asked you not to interfere in household matters ! You think of nothing but your nonsense, and the whole house is on my shoulders. You will infect us all ! LEONID fy6doritch. What? How.'' I don't understand what you mean. ANNA PAVLOVNA. How .'' Why, people ill of diphtheria sleep in the kitchen, which is in constant communication with the whole house. LEONID fy6doritch. Ycs, but I . . . ANNA PAVLOVNA. What, I ? LEONID fy6doritch. I know nothing about it. ANNA PAVLOVNA. It's your duty to know, if you are the head of the family. Such things must not be done. LEONID fy6doritch. But I ncvcr thought ... I thought . . . ANNA PAVLOVNA. It is sickening to listen to you ! [Leonid Fyddoritch remains silent]. ANNA PAVLOVNA [to Theodorc Ivdnitch] Turn them out at once ! They are to leave my kitchen immediately ! It is terrible ! No one listens to me ; they do it out of spite. ... I turn them out from there, and they bring them in 184 Fruits of Culture here ! And with my illness . . . [Gets more and more ex- cited, and at last begins to cry\ Doctor ! Doctor ! Peter Petr6vitch ! . . . He's gone too ! . . , [Exit, sobbing, followed by Leonid FyddoritcK]. All stand silent for a long time. THIRD PEASANT. BothcratioH take them all! If one don't mind, the police will be after one here. And I have never been to law in all my born days. Let's go to some lodging- house, lads ! THEODORE ivANiTCH [fo 7a»j,a] What are we to do ? TANYA. Never mind, Theodore Ivanitch, let them sleep with the coachman. THEODORE IVANITCH. How Can wc do that .'' The coach- man was complaining as it is, that his place is full of dogs. TANYA. Well then, the porter's lodge. THEODORE IVANITCH. And Supposing it's found out .' TANYA. It won't be found out ! Don't trouble about that, Theodore Ivanitch. How can one turn them out now, at night } They'll not find anywhere to go to. THEODORE IVANITCH. Well, do as you please. Only they must go away from here. [^.rii]. Peasants take their bags. DISCHARGED COOK. Oh thosc damned fiends ! It's all their fat ! Fiends ! servants' cook. You be quiet there. Thank goodness they didn't see you ! TANYA. Well then, daddy, come along to the porter's lodge. FIRST PEASANT. Well, but how about our business .'' How, for example, about the applience of his hand to the signa- ture .'' May we be in hopes .'' TANYA. We'll see in an hour's time. SECOND PEASANT. You'U do the trick ? TANYA [laughs^ Yes, God willing ! Curtain. ACT III Evening of the same day. The small drawing-room in Leonid Fyodoritch' s house, where the seances are always held. Leonid Fyddoritch and the Professor. LEONID fy6dohitch. Well then, shall we risk a seance with our new medium ? PROFESSOR. Yes, certainly. He is a powerful medium, there is no doubt about it. And it is especially desir- able that the seance should take place to-day with the same people. Grossman will certainly respond to the influence of the mediumistic energy, and then the con- nection and identity of the different phenomena will be still more evident. You will see then that, if the medium is as strong as he was just now, Grossman will vibrate. LEONID fy6doritch. Then I will send for Simon and ask those who wish to attend to come in. PROFESSOR. Yes, all right ! I will just jot down a few notes. [Takes out his note-book and writes^ Enter Sahdtqf. SAHATOF. They have just settled down to whist in Anna Pavlovna's drawing-room, and as I am not wanted there — and as I am interested in your seance — I have put in an appearance here. But will there be a seance .'' LEONID fy6doritch. Ycs, Certainly ! SAHATOF. In spite of the absence of Mr. Kaptchitch's mediumistic powers ? LEONID fy6dohitch. Fous ovez la main heureuse.^ Fancy, * LEONiD ft6doeitch. Tou bring good luck. i8s i86 Fruits of Culture that very peasant whom I mentioned to you this morning, turns out to be an undoubted medium. SAHATOF. Dear me ! Yes, that is peculiarly interesting ! LEONID fy6doritch. Yes, we tried a few preliminary experiments with him just after dinner. SAHATOF. So you've had time already to experiment, and to convince yourself . . . LEONfn fy6doritch. Yes, perfectly ! And he turns out to be an exceptionally powerful medium. SAHATOF \incredulously\ Dear me ! LEONID fy6doritch. It tums out that it has long been" noticed in the servants' hall. When he sits down to table, the spoon springs into his hand of its own accord ! \To the Prqfessoi-] Had you heard about it .'' PROFESSOR. No, I had not heard that detail. SAHATOF [to the Professor], But still, you admit the pos- sibility of such phenomena ? PROFESSOR. What phenomena } SAHATOF. Well, spiritualistic, mediumistic, and super- natural phenomena in general. PROFESSOR. The question is, what do we consider super- natural .'' When, not a living man but a piece of stone attracted a nail to itself, how did the phenomena strike the first observers ? As something natural ? Or supernatural ? SAHATOF. Well, of course ; but phenomena such as the magnet attracting iron always repeat themselves. PROFESSOR. It is just thc Same in this case. The phe- nomenon repeats itself and we experiment with it. And not only that, but we apply to the phenomena we are investigating the laws common to other phenomena. These phenomena seem supernatural only because their causes are attributed to the medium himself. But that is where the mistake lies. The phenomena are not caused by the medium, but by psychic energy acting through a medium, and that is a very different thing. The whole matter lies in the law of equivalents. Fruits of Culture 187 SAHATOF. Yes, certainly, but . . . Enter Tdnya, mho hides behind the hangings. LEONID fy6doritch. Only remember that we cannot reckon on any results with certainty, with this medium any more than with Home or Kaptchitch. We may not succeed, but on the other hand we may even have perfect materialisation. SAHATOF. Materialisation even ? What do you mean by materialisation ? LEONID fy6doritch. Why, I mean that some one who is dead — say, your father or your grandfather — may appear, take you by the hand, or give you something ; or else some one may suddenly rise into the air, as happened to Alexey Vladimiritch last time. PROFESSOR. Of course, of course. But the chief thing is the explanation of the phenomena, and the application to them of general laws. Enter the Fat Lady. FAT LADY. Anna Pavlovna has allowed me to join you. LEONfD fy6doritch. Very pleased. FAT LADY. Oh, how tired Grossman seems ! He could scarcely hold his cup. Did you notice [fo the Professor^ how pale he turned at the moment he approached the hiding-place ? I noticed it at once, and was the first to mention it to Anna Pavlovna. PROFESSOR. Undoubtedly, — loss of vital energy. fat LADY. Yes, it's just as I say, one should not abuse that sort of thing. You know, a hypnotist once suggested to a friend of mine. Vera K6nshin (oh, you know her, of course) — well, he suggested that she should leave off smoking, — and her back began to ache ! PROFESSOR [trying to have his say^ The temperature and the pulse clearly indicate . . . FAT lady. One moment ! Allow me ! Well, I said to her : it's better to smoke than to suffer so with one's nerves. Of course, smoking is injurious ; I should like to give it 1 88 Fruits of Culture up myself, but, do what I will, I can't ! Once I managed not to smoke for a fortnight, but could hold out no longer. PROFESSOR [again trying to speaU\ Clearly proves . . . FAT LADY. Ycs, no ! Allow me, just one word ! You say, " loss of strength." And I was also going to say that, when I travelled with post-horses . . . the roads used to be dreadful in those days — you don't remember — but I have noticed that all our nervousness comes from rail- ways ! I, for instance, can't sleep while travelling ; I cannot fall asleep to save my life ! PROFESSOR \makes another attempt, which the Fat Lady baffles] The loss of strength . . . SAHATOF \smiling'\ Yes ; oh yes ! Leonid Fyddoritch rings. FAT LADY. I am awake one night, and another, and a third, and still I can't sleep ! Enter Gregory. LEONID fy6doritch. Plcasc tell Theodore to get every- thing ready for the seance, and send Simon here — Simon, the butler's assistant, — do you hear ? GREGORY. Yes, sir. [£.n'<]. PROFESSOR \to Sakdtof]. The observation of the tem- perature and the pulse have shown loss of vital energy. The same will happen in consequence of the mediumistic phenomena. The law of the conservation of energy . . . FAT LADY. Oh ycs, ycs ; I was just going to say that I am very glad that a simple peasant turns out to be a medium. That's very good. I always did say that the Slavophils . . . LEONID fy6doritch. Lct's go into the drawing-room in the meantime. FAT LADY. Allow me, just one word ! The Slavophils are right ; but I always told my husband that one ought never to exaggerate anything ! " The golden mean," you Fruits of Culture 189 know. What is the use of maintaining that the common people are all perfect, when I have myself seen . . . LEONID fy6doritch. Won't you come into the drawing- room ? FAT LADY. A boy — that high — who drank ! I gave him a scolding at once. And he was grateful to me afterwards. They are children, and, as I always say, children need both love and severity ! Exeunt all, all talking together. Tdnya enters from behind the hangings. TANYA. Oh, if it would only succeed ! [Be^ns fastening some threads^ Enter Betsy hurriedly. BETSY. Isn't papa here .■" [Looks inquiringly at Tdnya] What are you doing here } TANYA. Oh, Miss Elizabeth, I have only just come; I only wished . . . only came in . . . [Embarrassed]. BETSY. But they are going to have a stance here directly. [Notices Tdnya draniing in the threads, looks at her, and suddenly bursts out laughing] Tanya! Why, it's you who do it all ? Now don't deny it. And last time it was you too } Yes, it was, it was ! TANYA. Miss Elizabeth, dearest ! BETSY [delighted] Oh, that is a joke ! Well, I never ! But why do you do it ? TANYA. Oh miss, dear miss, don't betray me ! BETSY. Not for the world ! I'm awfully glad. Only tell me how you manage it .-' TANYA. Well, I just hide, and then, when it's all dark, I come out and do it. That's how. BETSY [j)ointing to threads] And what is this for ? You needn't tell me. I see ; you draw . . . TANYA. Miss Elizabeth, darling ! I will confess it, but only to you. I used to do it just for fun, but now I mean business. BETSY. What ? How } What business } 190 Fruits of Culture TANYA. Well, you see, those peasants that came this morning, you saw them. They want to buy some land, and your father won't sell it ; well, and Theodore Ivinitch, he says it's the spirits as forbid him. So I have had a thought as . . . BETSY. Oh, I see ! Well, you are a clever girl ! Do it, do it. . . . But how will you manage it .'' TANYA. Well, I thought, when they put out the lights, I'll at once begin knocking and shying things about, touching their heads with the threads, and at last I'll take the paper about the land and throw it on the table. I've got it here. BETSY. Well, and then? TANYA. Why, don't you see ? They will be astonished. The peasants had the paper, and now it's here. I will teach . . . BETSY. Why, of course ! Simon is the medium to- day ! TANYA. Well, I'll teach him . . . [^Laughs so that she can't continue] I'll tell him to squeeze with his hands any one he can get hold of! Of course, not your father — he'd never dare do that — but any one else ; he'll squeeze till it's signed. BETSY [laughing] But that's not the way it is done. Mediums never do anything themselves. TANYA. Oh, never mind. It's all one ; I daresay it'll turn out all right. Enter Theodore Ivdnitch. Exit Betsy, making signs to Tanya. THEODORE ivANiTCH. Why are you here ? TANYA. It's you I want, Theodore Ivdnitch, dear . . . THEODORE IVANITCH. Well, what is it ? TANYA, About that affair of mine as I spoke of. THEODORE IVANITCH [luughs] I'vc made the match ; yes, I've made the match. The matter is settled ; we have shaken hands on it, only not had a drink on it. Fruits of Culture 191 tAnya [with a shriek'\ Never ! So it's all right ? THEODORE ivANiTCH. Don't I tcU you SO ? He says, " 1 shall consult the missus, and then, God willing . . ." TANYA. Is that what he said ? [Shrieks] Dear Theodore Ivanitch, I'll pray for you all the days of my life ! THEODORE IVANITCH. All right ! AH right ! Now is not the time. I've been ordered to arrange the room for the seance. tAnya. Let me help you. How's it to be arranged } THEODORE ivAnitch. How .? Why, the table in the middle of the room — chairs — the guitar — the accordion. The lamp is not wanted, only candles. tAnya [helps Theodore Ivanitch to place the things] Is that right ? The guitar here, and here the inkstand. [Places it] So? THEODORE ivAnitch. Call it be true that they'll make Simon sit here .'' tAnya. I suppose so ; they've done it once. THEODORE ivAnitch. Wondcrful ! [Puts on his pince-nez] But is he clean .'' tAnya. How should I know ? THEODORE ivAnitch. Then, I'll tell you what . . . tAnya. Yes, Theodore Ivanitch } THEODORE fvAnitch. Go and take a nail-brush and some Pears' soap ; you may take mine . . . and go and cut his claws and scrub his hands as clean as possible. tAnya. He can do it himself. THEODORE ivAnitch. Well then, tell him to. And tell him to put on a clean shirt as well. tAnya. All right, Theodore IvAnitch. [£d<]. THEODORE 'ivAnitch [sits dotvn in an easy-chair] They're educated and learned — Alex6y Vladimiritch now, he's a professor — and yet sometimes one can't help doubting very much. The people's rude superstitions are being abolished : hobgoblins, sorcerers, witches. . . . But if one considers it. is not this equally superstitious } How is it 192 Fruits of Culture possible that the souls of the dead should come and talk, and play the guitar ? No ! Some one is fooling them, or they are fooling themselves. And as to this business with Simon — it's simply incomprehensible. [Looks at an album] Here's their spiritualistic album. How is it possible to photograph a spirit ? But here is the likeness of a Turk and Leonid Fy6doritch sitting by. . . . Extraordinary human weakness ! Enter Leonid Fyddoritch. LEONID fy6doritch. Is it all ready } THEODORE iVANiTCH \rising Icisurely] Quite ready. [Smles\ Only I don't know about your new medium. I hope he won't disgrace you, Leonid Fy6doritch. LEONID fy6dohitch. No, I and Alexey Vladimiritch have tested him. He is a wonderfully powerful medium ! THEODORE IVANITCH. Well, I don't know. But is he clean enough ? I don't suppose you have thought of ordering him to wash his hands ? It might be rather inconvenient. LEONID fy6doritch. His hands .'' Oh yes ! They're not clean, you think ? THEODORE IVANITCH. What Can you expect .'' He's a peasant, and there will be ladies present, and Marya Vasilevna. LEONID Fy6DORiTCH. It will be all right. THEODORE IVANITCH. And then I have something to report to you. Timothy, the coachman, complains that he can't keep things clean because of the dogs. LEONID fy6doritch \arranff,ng the things on the table ahseni- mindedly] What dogs ? THEODORE IVANITCH. The three hounds that came for Vasily Leoniditch to-day. LEONfD fy6doritch [ijg.rerf] Tell Anna Pavlovna ! She can do as she likes about it. 1 have no time. THEODORE IVANITCH. But you know hcv weakness . . . LEONin fy6doritch. 'Tis just as she likes, let her do as Fruits of Culture 193 she pleases. As for him, — one never gets anything but unpleasantness from him. Besides, I am busy. Enter Simon, smiling j he has a sleeveless peasant's coat on. SIMON. I was ordered to come. LEONin fy6doritch. Yes, it's all right. Let me see your hands. That will do, that will do very well ! Well then, my good fellow, you must do just as you did before, — sit down, and give way to your mood. But don't think at all. SIMON. Why should I think ? The more one thinks, the worse it is. LEONID fy6doritch. Just SO, just SO, exactly ! The less conscious one is, the greater is the power. Don't think, but give in to your mood. If you wish to sleep, sleep ; if you wish to walk, walk. Do you understand .'' SIMON. How could one help understanding ? It's simple enough. LEONID fy6doritch. But above all, don't be frightened. Because you might be surprised yourself. You must understand that just as we live here, so a whole world of invisible spirits live here also. THEODORE IVANITCH \imprcn1i71g On what Leotiid Fyodoritch has said] Invisible feelings, do you understand ? SIMON [laughs] How can one help understanding ! It's very plain as you put it. LEONID fy6doritch. You may rise up in the air, or some- thing of the kind, but don't be frightened. SIMON. Why should I be frightened .'' That won't matter at all. LEONID fy6doritch. Well then, I'll go and call them all. ... Is everything ready ? THEODORE IVANITCH. I think SO. LEONID fy6doritch. But the slates .'' THEODORE IVANITCH. They are downstairs. I'll bring them. [Eait]. LEONID fy6doritch. All right then. So don't be afraid, but be at your ease. 194 Fruits of Culture SIMON. Had I not better take off my coat ? One would be more easy like. LEONID pydDORiTCH. Your coat.'' Oh no. Don't take that off. [Exit]. SIMON. She tells me to do the same again^ and she will again shy things about. How isn't she afraid ? Enter Tdnya in her stockings and in a dress of the colour of the rvall-paper. Simon laughs. TANYA. Shsh ! . . . They'll hear ! There, stick these matches on your fingers as before. [Sticks them on] Well, do you remember everything ? SIMON [bending his fingers in, one by one] First of all, wet the matches and wave my hands about, that's one. Then make my teeth chatter, like this . . . that's two. But I've forgotten the third thing. TANYA. And it's the third as is the chief thing. Don't forget as soon as the paper falls on the table — I shall ring the little bell — then you do like this. . . . Spread your arms out far and catch hold of some one, whoever it is as sits nearest, and catch hold of him. And then squeeze ! [Laughs] Whether it's a gentleman or a lady, it's all one ; you just squeeze 'em, and don't let 'em go, — as if it were in your sleep, and chatter with your teeth, or else howl like this. [Horvls sotto-voce] And when I begin to play on the guitar, then stretch yourself as if you were waking up, you know. . . . Will you remember everything .'' SIMON. Yes, I'll remember, but it is too funny. TANYA. But mind you don't laugh. Still, it won't matter much if you do laugh ; they'd think it was in your sleep. Only take care you don't really fall asleep when they put out the lights. SIMON. No fear, I'll pinch my ears. TANYA. Well then Sim darling, only mind do as I tell you, and don't get frightened. He'll sign the paper, see if he don't ! They're coming ! Gets under the sofa. Fruits of Culture 195 Enter Grossman and the Professor, Leonid Fyodoritch and the Fat Lady, the Doctor, Sahdtqf and Anna Pdvlovna. Simon stands near the door. LEONfD FYiDORiTCH. Plcasc come in, all you doubters ! Though we have a new and accidentally discovered medium, I expect very important phenomena to-night. SAHATOF. That's very, very interesting. FAT LADY [^pointing to Simon^ Mais il est tres bien ! i ANNA PAVLOVNA. Yes, as a butler's assistant, but hardly . . . SAHATOF. Wives never have any faith in their husbands' work. You don't believe in anything of this kind ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. Of coursc not. Kaptchitch, it is true, has something exceptional about him, but Heaven knows what all this is about ! FAT LADY. No, Anna Pavlovna, permit me, you can't decide it in such a way. Before I was married, I once had a remarkable dream. Dreams, you know, are often such that you don't know where they begin and where they end ; it was just such a dream that I . . . Enter Vasily Leoniditch and Petristchef. FAT LADY. And much was revealed to me by that dream. Nowadays the young people \^points to Petristchef and Vasily Leoniditch] deny everything. VAsiLY LEONIDITCH. But look here, you know — now I, for instance, never deny anything ! Eh, what .f" Betsy and Mdrya Konstantirumna enter, and begin talking to Petristchef. FAT LADY. And how can one deny the supernatural ? They say it is unreasonable. But what if one's reason is stupid ; what then ? There now, on Garden Street, you know . . . why, well, it appeared every evening! My husband's brother — what do you call him ? Not beaufrere — what's the other name for it ? — I never can remember the names of these different relationships — well, he went ' FAT LADY. But he looks quite nice. 196 Fruits of Culture there three nights running, and still he saw nothing ; so I said to him . . . LEONfn fy6doritch. Well, who is going to stay here ? FAT LADY. I ! I ! sahAtof. I. ANNA PAVLovNA [to Doctor] Do you mean to say you are going to stay ? DOCTOR. Yes ; I must see, if only once, what it is that Alexey Vladirairitch has discovered in it. How can we deny anything without proofs ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. Then I am to take it to-night for certain ? DOCTOR. Take what ? . . . Oh, the powder. Yes, it would perhaps be better. Yes, yes, take it. . . . How- ever, I shall come upstairs again. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Yes plessc, do. [Loud] When it is over, mesdames et messieurs, I shall expect you to come to me upstairs to rest from your emotions, and then we will finish our rubber. PAT LADY. Oh, certainly. SAHATOF. Yes, thanks ! Exit Anna Pdvlovna. BETSY [to Petristchef] You must stay, I tell you. I pro- mise you something extraordinary. Will you bet .'' MARYA KONSTANTiNovNA. But you don't belicvc in it .'' BETSY. To-day I do. MARYA KONSTANTINOVNA [to Petristchef] And do you be- lieve } PETRISTCHEF. " I Can't believc, I cannot trust a heart for falsehood framed." Still, if Elizabeth Leonidovna commands . . . VASiLY LEONiDiTCH. Let US Stay, Marya Konstantinovna. Eh, what .J" I shall invent something epdtant. MARYA KONSTANTINOVNA. No, you mustn't make me laugh. You know I can't restrain myself. VASILY LEONIDITCH \loiid\ I remain ! Fruits of Culture 197 LEONID fy6doritch [severeli/] But I beg those who re- main not to joke about it. It is a serious matter. PETRisTCHEF. Do you hear? Well then, let's stay. Vovo, sit here, and don't be too shy. BETSY. Yes, it's all very well for you to laugh ; but just wait till you see what will happen. VAsiLY LEONiDiTCH. Oh, but Supposing it's true ? Won't it be a go ! Eh, what ? PETRISTCHEF [tremMes] Oh, I'm afraid, I'm afraid ! Marya Konstantfnoia, I'm afraid ! My tootsies tremble. BETSY [laughing] Not so loud. All sit down. LEONJD rY6D0RiTCH. Take your seats, take your seats. Simon, sit down ! SIMON. Yes, sir. [Sits down on the edge of the chair]. LEONID fy6doritch. Sit properly. PROFESSOR. Sit straight in the middle of the chair, and quite at your ease. [Arranges Simon on his chair]. Betsy, Mdrya Konstantinovna and Vastly Leoniditch laugh. LEONfD fy6doritch [raising his voice] I beg those who are going to remain here not to behave frivolously, but to regard this matter seriously, or bad results might follow. Do you hear, Vovo ! If you can't be quiet, go away ! VAsfLY LEONIDITCH. Quite quiet 1 [Hides behind Fat Lady]. LEONfo fy6doritch. Alex6y Vladimiritch, will you mes- merise him .'' professor. No ; why should I do it when Ant6n Borisitch is here ? He has had far more practice and has more power in that department than I. . . . Ant6n Borisitch ! GROSSMAN. Ladies and gentlemen, I am not, strictly speaking, a spiritualist. I have only studied hypnotism. It is true I have studied hypnotism in all its known manifesta- tions ; but what is called spiritualism, is entirely unknown to me. When a subject is thrown into a trance, I may expect the hypnotic phenomena known to me : lethargy, abulia, anaesthesia, analgesia, catalepsy, and every kind of 198 Fruits of Culture susceptibility to suggestion. Here it is not these but other phenomena we expect to observe. Therefore it would be well to know of what kind are the phenomena we expect to witnesSj and what is their scientific sig- nificance. SAHATOF. I thoroughly agree with Mr. Grossman. Such an explanation would be very interesting. LEONID Fy6D0RiTCH. I think Alexey Vladimiritch will not refuse to give us a short explanation. PROFESSOR. Why not .'' I can give an explanation if it is desired. \To the Doctor] Will you kindly note his tempe- rature and pulse .'' My explanation must, of necessity, be cursory and brief. leoni'd fy6doritch. YeSj please ; briefly, quite briefly. DOCTOR. All right. [7a/ce* out thermometer] Now then, my lad . . . [Places the thermometer]. SIMON. Yes, sir ! PROFESSOR [rising and addressing the Fat Lady — then reseating himself] Ladies and gentlemen ! The pheno- menon we are investigating to-night is regarded, on the one hand, as something new ; and, on the other, as something transcending the limits of natural conditions. Neither view is correct. This phenomenon is not new but is as old as the world ; and it is not supernatural but is subject to the eternal laws that govern all that exists. This phenomenon has been usually defined as "inter- course with the spirit world." That definition is inexact. Under such a definition the spirit world is contrasted with the material world. But this is erroneous; there is no such contrast ! Both worlds are so closely connected that it is impossible to draw a line of demarcation, sepa- rating the one from the other. We say, matter is composed of molecules . . . PETRfsTCHEF. Prosy matter ! [ Whispering and laughter]. PROFESSOR [-paiises, then continues] Molecules are com- posed of atoms, but the atoms, having no extension, are Fruits of Culture 199 in reality nothing but the points of application of forces. Strictly speaking, not of forces but of energy, that same energy which is as much a unity and just as indestructible as matter. But matter, though one, has many different aspects, and the same is true of energy. Till recently only four forms of energy, convertible into one another, have been known to us : energies known as the dynamic, the thermal, the electric, and the chemic. But these four aspects of energy are far from exhausting all the varieties of its manifestation. The forms in which energy may manifest itself are very diverse, and it is one of these new and as yet but little known phases of energy, that we are investigating to-night. I refer to mediumistic energy. Renetved whispering and laughter among the young people. PROFESSOR \stops utid casts a severe look round] Mediumistic energy has been known to mankind for ages : prophecy, presentiments, visions and so on, are nothing but mani- festations of mediumistic energy. The manifestations pro- duced by it have, I say, been known to mankind for ages. But the energy itself has not been recognised as such till quite recently — not till that medium, the vibrations of which cause the manifestations of mediumistic energy, was recognised. In the same way that the phenomena of light were inexplicable until the existence of an imponderable substance — an ether — was recognised, so mediumistic phenomena seemed mysterious until the now fully established fact was recognised, that between the particles of ether there exists another still more rarified imponderable substance not subject to the law of the three dimensions . . . Renewed laughter, whispers, and giggling. PROFESSOR [again looks round seuerely] And just as mathe- matical calculations have irrefutably proved the existence of imponderable ether which gives rise to the phenomena of light and electricity, so the successive investigations of the ingenious Hermann, of Schmidt, and of Joseph 200 Fruits of Culture Schmatzhofen, have confirmed beyond a doubt the existence of a substance which fills the universe and may be called spiritual ether. FAT LADY. Ah, now I Understand. I am so grate- ful . . . LEONID fy6doritch. Ycs, but Alexey Vladimiritch, could you not . . . condense it a little .'' professor [not heeding the remark^ And so, as I have just had the honour of mentioning to you, a succession of strictly scientific experiments have made plain to us the laws of mediumistic phenomena. These experiments have proved that, when certain individuals are plunged into a hypnotic state (a state differing from ordinary sleep only by the fact that man's physiological activity is not lowered by the hypnotic influence but, on the contrary, is always height- ened — as we have recently witnessed) when, I say, any individual is plunged into such a state, this always pro- duces certain perturbations in the spiritual ether — pertur- bations quite similar to those produced by plunging a solid body into liquid matter. These perturbations are what we call mediumistic phenomena . . . Laughter, and whispers. SAHATOP. That is quite comprehensible and correct ; but if, as you are kind enough to inform us, the plunging of the medium into a trance produces perturbations of the spiritual ether, allow me to ask why (as is usually supposed to be the case in spiritualistic seances) these perturbations result in an activity on the part of the souls of dead people .'' PROFESSOR. It is because the molecules of this spiritual ether are nothing but the souls of the living, the dead, and the unborn, and any vibration of the spiritual ether must inevitably cause a certain vibration of its atoms. These atoms are nothing but human souls, which enter into communication with one another by means of these movements. Fruits of Culture 201 FAT LADY [to Sahdtof] What is it that puzzles you ? It is so simple. . . . Thank you so, so much ! LEONID fy6doritch. I think everything has now been explained, and that we may commence. DOCTOR. The fellow is in a perfectly normal condition : temperature 37 decimal 2, pulse 74. PROFESSOR \takes out his pocket-book and notes this donm\ What I have just had the honour of explaining will be confirmed by the fact, which we shall presently have an opportunity of observing, that after the medium has been thrown into a trance his temperature and pulse will inevit- ably rise, just as occurs in cases of hypnotism. LEONID fy6doritch. Ycs, ycs. But excuse me a moment. I should like to reply to Serg6y Ivanitch's question : How do we know we are in communication with the souls of the dead ? We know it because the spirit that appears, plainly tells us — as simply as I am speaking to you — who he is, and why he has come, and whether all is well with him ! At our last s6ance a Spaniard, Don Castillos, came to us, and he told us everything. He told us who he was, and when he died, and that he was suffering for having taken part in the Inquisition. He even told us what was happening to him at the very time that he was speaking to us, namely, that at the very time he was talking to us he had to be born again on earth, and, therefore, could not continue his conversation with us. . . . But you'll see for yourselves . . . FAT LADY [interrupting] Oh, how interesting ! Perhaps the Spaniard was born in one of our houses and is a baby now ! LEONID fy6doritch. Quitc possibly. PROFESSOR. I think it is time we began. LEONID fy6doritch. I was only going to say . . . PROFESSOR. It is getting late. LEONID fy6doritch. Very well. Then we will com- mence. Antdn Borisitch, be so good as to hypnotise the medium. 202 Fruits of Culture GROSSMAN. What method would you hke me to use ? There are several methods. There is Braid's system, there is the Egyptian symbol, and there is Charcot's system. LEONID fy6doritch [to the Professor] I think it is quite immaterial. professor. Quite. GROSSMAN. Then I will make use of my own method, which I showed in Odessa. LEONID fy6doritch. If you please ! Grossman waves his arms above Simon. Simon closes his eyes and stretches himself. GROSSMAN Vlooking closely at him] He is falling asleep ! He is asleep ! A remarkably rapid occurrence of hyp- nosis. The subject has evidently already reached a state of anaesthesia. He is remarkable, — an unusually impres- sionable subject, and might be subjected to interest- ing experiments ! . . . [Sits doivn, rises, sits down again] Now one might run a needle into his arm. If you like . . . PROFESSOR [to Leonid FyOdoritch] Do you notice how the medium's trance acts on Grossman .'' He is beginning to vibrate. LEONID fy6doritch. Ycs, yes . . . can the lights be ex- tinguished now .'' sahAtof. But why is darkness necessary .' PROFESSOR. Darkness .'' Because it is a condition of the manifestation of mediumistic energy, just as a given temperature is a condition necessary for certain mani- festations of chemical or dynamic energy. LEONID fy6doritch. But not always. Manifestations have been observed by me, and by many others, both by candlelight and daylight. PROFESSOR [interrupting] May the lights be put out ? LEONID fy6doritch. Yes, certainly. [Puts out candles] Ladies and gentlemen ! attention, if you please. Fruits of Culture 203 Tanya gets from under the sofa and takes hold of a thread tied to a chandelier. PETRiSTCHEF. I like that Spaniard ! Just in the midst of a conversation — off he goes head downwards ... as the French say : piquer ime tete.^ BETSY. You just wait a bit, and see what will happen ! PETRISTCHEF. I have only one fear, and that is that Vovo may be moved by the spirit to grunt like a pig ! vAsiLY LEONiDiTCH. Would you like me to ? I will . . . LEONID fy6doritch. Gentlemen ! Silence, if you please ! Silence. Simon licks the matches on his fingers and rubs his knuckles with them. LEONio fy6doritch. a light ! Do you see the light ? SAHATOF. A light ? Yes, yes, I see ; but allow me . . . FAT LADY. Where .'' Where ? Oh dear, I did not see it ! Ah, there it is. Oh ! . . . PROFESSOR \whispers to Leonid Fyddoritch, and points to Grossman, who is moving] Do you notice how he vibrates ? It is the dual influence. [The light appears again]. LEONID fy6doritch [to the Professor] It must be he — you know ! SAHATOF. Who? LEONID fy6doritch. A Greek, Nicholas. It is his light. Don't you think so, Alex6y Vladimiritch ? SAHATOF. Who is this Greek, Nicholas ? professor, a certain Greek, who was a monk at Con- stantinople under Constantine and who has been visiting us lately. FAT LADY. Where is he ? Where is he .'' I don't see him. LEONfo fy6doritch. He is not yet visible . . . Alex^y Vladimiritch, he is particularly well disposed towards you. You question him. professor [in a peculiar voice] Nicholas ! Is that you .' Tdnya raps twice on the mall. 1 To take a header. 204 Fruits of Culture LEONID fy6doritch [joyfuUy] It is he ! It is he ! FAT LADY. Oh dear ! Oh ! I shall go away ! SAHATOF. Why do you suppose it is he ? LEONID fy6doritch. Why, the two knocks. It is an affirmative answer ; else all would have been silence. Silence. Suppressed giggling in the young people's comer. Tdnya throws a lampshade, pencil and penwiper upon the table. LEONfD fy6doritch [whispers^ Do you notice, gentlemen, here is a lamp-shade, and something else — a pencil ! . . . Alexey Vladimiritch, it is a pencil ! PROFESSOR. All right, all right ! I am watching both him and Grossman ! Grossman rises and feels the things that have fallen on the table. SAHATOF. Excuse me, excuse me ! I should like to see whether it is not the medium who is doing it all himself? LEONID fy6doritch. Do you think so } Well, sit by him and hold his hands. But you may be sure he is asleep. SAHATOF \approacl~^s. Tdnya lets a thread touch his head. He is frightened, and stoops\ Ye . . . ye . . . yes ! Strange, very strange ! [Takes hold of Simon's elbow. Simon howls], PROFESSOR [to Leonid Fyddoritch] Do you notice the effect of Grossman's presence ? It is a new phenomenon — I must note it . . . [Runs out to note it down, and returns again]. LEONID fy6doritch. Ycs. . . . But we cannot leave Nicholas without an answer. We must begin . . . GROSSMAN [rises, approaches Simon and raises and lowers his arm] It would be interesting to produce contraction ! The subject is in profound hypnosis. professor [to Leonid FySdoritch] Do you see .'' Do you see .'' GROSSMAN. If you like . . . DOCTOR. Now then, my dear sir, leave the management to Alexey Vladimiritch, the affair is turning out serious, Fruits of Culture 205 PROFESSOR. Leave him alone, he [referring to Grossman] is talking in his sleep ! FAT LADY. How glad I now am that I resolved to be present ! It is frightening, but all the same I am glad, for I always said to my husband . . . LEONio fy6doritch. Silence, if you please. Tdnya draws a thread over the Fat Lady's head. FAT LADY. Aie ! LEONf D fy6doritch. What } What is it .' FAT LADY. He took hold of my hair ! LEONiD fy6doritch [whispers'] Never mind, don't be afraid, give him your hand. His hand will be cold, but I like it. FAT lady [hides her hands] Not for the world ! SAHATOF. Yes, it is strange, very strange ! LEONID fy6doritch. He is here and is seeking for inter- course. Who wishes to put a question to him ? SAHATOF. I should like to put a question, if I may. PROFESSOR. Please do. SAHATOF. Do I believe or not ? Tdnya knocks twice. PROFESSOR. The answer is affirmative. SAHATOF. Allow me to ask again. Have I a ten rouble note in my pocket ? Tdnya knocks several times and passes a thread over Sahdtof's head. SAHATOF. Ah ! [Seizes the thread and breaks it]. PROFESSOR. I should ask those present not to ask in- definite or trivial questions. It is unpleasant to him ! SAHATOF. No, but allow me ! Here I have a thread in my hand ! LEONio fy6doritch. a thread ? Hold it fast ; that happens often, and not only threads but sometimes even silk cords — very ancient ones ! SAHATOF. No — but where did this thread come from ? Tdnya throws a cushion at him. 2o6 Fruits of Culture SAHATOF. Wait a bit ; wait ! Something soft has hit nie on the head. Light a candle — there is something . . . PBOFESSOR. We beg of you not to interrupt the mani- festations. FAT LADY. For goodness' sake don't interrupt ! I should also like to ask something. May I .'' LEONID fy6doritch. YeSj if you like. FAT LADY. I should like to ask about my digestion.^' May I ? I want to know what to take : aconite or belladonna ? Silence, whispers mnong the young people j suddenly Vasily Leoniditch begins to cry like a baby : " ou-a, oit-a ! " [LaughterJ] Holding their mouths and noses, the girls and Petristchef run away bursting with laughter. FAT LADY. Ah, that must be the monk who's been born again ! LEONID fy6doritch \bedde himself with anger, whispers] One gets nothing but tomfoolery from you ! If you don't know how to behave decently^ go away ! Exit Vasily Leoniditch. Darkness and silence. FAT LADY. Oh, what a pity ! Now one can't ask any more ! He is born ! LEONID fy6dohitch. Not at all. It is only Vovo's non- sense. But he is here. Ask him. PROFESSOR. That often happens. These jokes and ridi- cule are quite usual occurrences. I expect he is still here. But we may ask. Leonid Fy6doritch, will you .'' LEONID fy6doritch. No, you, if you please. This has upset me. So unpleasant ! Such want of tact ! . . . PROFESSOR. Very well. . . . Nicholas, are you here ? Tanya raps trvice and rings. Simon roars, spreads his arms out, seizes Sahdtqf and the Professor — squeezing them. PROFESSOR. What an unexpected phenomenon ! The medium himself reacted upon ! This never happened before ! Leonid Fy6doritch, will you watch ? It is difficult for me to do so. He squeezes me so ! Mind you observe Grossman ! This needs the very greatest attention ! Fruits of Culture 207 Tdnya throws the peasants' paper on the table. LEONID fy6doritch. Something has fallen upon the table. PROFESSOR. See what it is ! LEONID fy6dohitch. Paper ! A folded paper ! Tdnya throws a travelling inkstand on the table. LEONID fy6doritch. An inkstand ! Tdnya throws a pen. LEONfn fy6doritch. A pen ! Simon roars and squeezes. PROFESSOR \crushed\ Wait a bit, wait : a totally new mani- festation ! The action proceeding not from the mediumistie energy produced, but from the medium himself! How- ever, open the inkstand, and put the pen on the table, and he will write ! Tdnya goes behind Leonid Fyddoritch and strikes him on the head with the guitar. LEONID fy6doritch. He has struck me on the head ! [Examining table] The pen is not writing yet and the paper remains folded. professor. See what the paper is, and quickly ; evi- dently the dual influence — his and Grossman's — has pro- duced a perturbation ! LEONID fy6doritch [goes out and returns at once] Extra- ordinary ! This paper is an agreement with some peasants that I refused to sign this morning and returned to the peasants. Probably he wants me to sign it ? professor. Of course ! Of course ! But ask him. LEONID fy6doritch, Nicholas, do you wish . . . Tdnya knocks twice. professor. Do you hear ? It is quite evident ! Leonid Fyddoritch takes the paper and pen and goes out. Tanya knocks, plays on the guitar and the accordion, and then creeps under the sofa. Leonid Fyddoritch returns. Simon stretches himself and coughs. LEONfD rY6D0RiTCH. He is waking up. We can light th? candles: 2o8 Fruits of Culture PROFESSOR \hurriedli/\ Doctor, Doctor, please, his pulse and temperature ! You will see that a rise of both will be apparent. LEONID py6doritch [lights the candles] Well, what do you gentlemen who were sceptical think of it now ? DOCTOR [goes up to Simon and places thermometer] Now then my lad. Well, have you had a nap ? There, put that in there, and give me your hand. [Looks at his rvatch]. SAHATOF [shrugging his shoulders] I must admit that all that has occurred cannot have been done by the medium. But the thread ? . . . I should like the thread explained. LEONID fy6doritch. A thread ! A thread ! We have been witnessing manifestations more important than a thread. SAHATOF. I don't know. At all events, je reserve man opinion. FAT LADY [to Sahdtof] Oh no, how can you say : "je reserve man opinion ? " And the infant with the little wings ? Didn't you see .'' At first I thought it was only an illusion, but afterwards it became clearer and clearer, like a live . . . SAHATOF. I can only speak of what I have seen. I did not see that — nothing of the kind. FAT LADY. You don't mean to say so ? Why, it was quite plainly visible ! And to the left there was a monk clothed in black bending over it . . . SAHATOF [momes away. Aside] What exaggeration ! FAT LADY [addressing the Doctor] You must have seen it ! It rose up from your side. Doctor goes on counting pulse without heeding her. FAT LADY [to Grossman] And that light, the light around it, especially around its little face ! And the expression so mild and tender, something so heavenly ! [Smiles tenderly herself]. QROSSMAN. I saw phosphorescent light, aijd objects Fruits of Culture 209 changed their places, but I saw nothing more than that. FAT LADY. Don't tell me ! You don't mean it ! It is simply that you scientists of Charcot's school do not be- lieve in a life beyond the grave ! As for me, no one could now make me disbelieve in a future life — no one in the world ! Grossman moves away from her. FAT LADY. No, HO, whatever you may say, this is one of the happiest moments of my life ! When I heard Sarasate play, and now. . . . Yes ! \No one listens to her. She goes up to Simon'\ Now tell me, my friend, what did you feel ? Was it very trying .'' SIMON \laughs^ Yes, ma'm, just so. FAT LADY. Still not Unendurable ? SIMON. Just so, ma'm. [To Leonid Fy6doritch'\ Am I to go? LEONID fy6doritch. Ycs, you may go. DOCTOR \to the Professor^ The pulse is the same, but the temperature is lower. PROFESSOR. Lower ! [Considers awhile, then suddenly divines the conclusion] It had to be so — it had to descend ! The dual influence crossing had to produce some kind of reflex action. Yes, that's it ! LEONID rY6DORiTCH. I'm Only sorry we had no com- plete materialisation. But still. . . . Come, gentle- men, let us go to the drawing-room .'' FAT LADY. What Specially struck me was when he flapped his wings, and one saw how he rose ! GROSSMAN \to Sakdtof] If we had kept to hypnotism, we might have produced a thorough state of epilepsy. The success might have been complete ! sahatof. It is very interesting, but not entirely .convincing. That is all I can say. Enter Theodore Ivdnitch. LEONID fy6doritch [with papier in his hand] Ah, Theo- o 53 2IO Fruits of Culture (lore, what a remarkable stance we have had ! It turns out that the peasants must have the land on their own terms. THEODORE FVANiTCH. Dear me ! LEONID fy6doritch. Ycs, indeed. [Showing paper] Fancy, this paper that I returned to them, suddenly appeared on the table ! I have signed it. THEODORE iVANiTCH. How did it get there ? LEONID fy6doritch. Well, it did get there ! [Exit Theodore Ivdnitch follows him out\. tjInya [gets from under the sofa and laughs] Oh dear, oh dear! Well, I did get a fright when he got hold of the thread ! [Shrieks] Well, anyhow, it's all right — he has signed it ! Enter Gregory. GREGORY. So it was you that was fooling them ? TANYA. What business is it of yours ? GREGORY. And do you think the missis will be pleased with you for it ? No, you bet ; you're caught now ! I'll tell them what tricks you're up to, if you don't let me have my way ! TANYA. And you'll not get your way, and you'll not do me any harm ! Curtain. ACT IV The same scene as in Act I. The next day. Two livened footmen, Theodore Ivdnitch and Gregory. FIRST FOOTMAN [with grey whislcers'\ Yours is the third house to-day. Thank goodness that all the at-homes are in this direction. Yours used to be on Thursdays. THEODORE iVANiTCH. Ycs, wc changed to Saturday so as to be on the same day as the Gol6vkins and Grade von Grabes . . . SECOND FOOTMAN. The StchcrbAkofs do the thing well. There's refreshments for the footmen every time they've a ball. The two Princesses, mother and daughter, come down the stairs accompanied by Betsy. The old Princess looks in her note-book and at her watch, and sits down on the settle. Gregory puts on her overshoes. YOUNG PRINCESS. Now, do come. Because, if you refuse, and Dodo refuses, the whole thing will be spoilt. BETSY. I don't know. I must certainly go to the Shoubins. And then there is the rehearsal. YOUNG PRINCESS. You'll havc plenty of time. Do, please. Ne nousfais pas faux bond?- Fedya and Koko will come. BETSY. Ten ai par-dessus la tete de votre Koko.^ YOUNG PRINCESS. I thought I should see him here. Ordinairement il est d'utie e.ractitude ... * BETSY. He is sure to come. ' Do not disappoint us, ' BETSY. I have more than enough of your Koko. • YOUNG PRINCESS. ... He is usually so very punctual , . , 212 Fruits of Culture YOUNG PRINCESS. When I see you together, it always seems to me that he has either just proposed or is just going to propose. BETSY. Yes, I don't suppose it can be avoided. I shall have to go through with it. And it is so unpleasant ! YOUNG PRINCESS. Poor Koko ! He is head over ears in love. BETSY. Cessez, les gens ! i Young Prim:ess sits down, talking in whispers. Gregory puts on her overshoes. YOUNG PRINCESS. Well then, good-bye till this evening. BETSY. I'll try to come. OLD PRINCESS. Then tell your papa that I don't believe in anything of the kind, but will come to see his new medium. Only he must let me know when. Good after- noon, ma toute belle. [Kisses Betsy, and exit, followed by her daughter. Betsy goes upstairs']. GREGORY. I don't like putting on an old woman's over- shoes for her ; she can't stoop, can't see her shoe for her stomach, and keeps poking her foot in the wrong place. It's different with a young one ; it's pleasant to take her foot in one's hand. SECOND FOOTMAN. Hear him ! Making distinctions ! FIRST FOOTMAN. It's not for US footmcn to make such distinctions. GREGORY. Why shouldn't one make distinctions; are we not men .'' It's they think we don't understand ' Just now they were deep in their talk, then they look at me, and at once it's " lay zhon ! " SECOND FOOTMAN. And what's that .'' GREGORY. Oh, that means, " Don't talk, they under- stand ! " It's the same at table. But I understand ! You say, there's a difference ? I say there is none. FIRST FOOTMAN. There is a great difference for those who understand. 1 BETSY. Cease ; mind the servants ! Fruits of Culture 213 GREGORY. There is none at all. To-day I am a footman, and to-morrow I may be living no worse than they are. Has it never happened that they've married footmen .'' I'll go and have a smoke. [£.rii]. SECOND FOOTMAN. That's a bold young man you've got. THEODORE ivANiTCH. A worthlcss fcllow, not fit for service. He used to be an office boy and has got spoilt. I advised them not to take him, but the mistress liked him. He looks well on the carriage when they drive out. FIRST FOOTMAN. I should like to send him to our Count ; he'd put him in his place ! Oh, he don't like those scatterbrains. " If you're a footman, be a footman and fulfil your calling." Such pride is not befitting. Petristchef comes running downstairs, and takes out a cigarette. PETRISTCHEF \deep in thought^ Let's see, my second is the same as my first. Echo, a-co, co-coa. [Enter Koko Klingen, wearing his pince-nez] Ko-ko, co-coa. Cocoa tin, where do you spring from ? KOKO KLINGEN. From the Stcherbakofs. You are always playing the fool . . . PETRISTCHEF. No, listcn to my charade. My first is the same as my second, my third may be cracked, my whole is like your pate. KOKO KLJNGEN. I givc it up. I'vc HO time. PETRISTCHEF. Where else are you going ? KOKO KLINGEN. Where? Of course to the Ivins, to practise for the concert. Then to the Shoiibins, and then to the rehearsal. You'll be there too, won't you ? PETRISTCHEF. Most Certainly. At the re-her-Sall and also at the re-her-Sarah. Why, at first I was a savage, and now I am both a savage and a general. KOKO KLINGEN. How did yesterday's seance go off.'' PETRISTCHEF. Screamingly funny ! There was a peasant, and above all, it was all in the dark. Vovo cried like an 214 Fruits of Culture infant, the Professor defined, and Mdrya Vasilevna refined Such a lark ! You ought to have been there. ROKO KLiNGEN. I'm aftaid, mon cher. You have a way of getting off with a jest, but I always feel that if I say a word, they'll construe it into a proposal. Et qa ne m arrange pas du tout, du tout. Mais du tout, du tout ! ^ PETRfsTCHEF. Instead of a proposal, make a proposition, and receive a sentence ! Well, I shall go in to Vovo's. If you'll call for me, we can go to the re-her-Sarah together. KOKO KLiNGEN. I Can't think how you can be friends with such a fool. He is so stupid, — a regular blockhead ! PETRisTCHEF. And I am fond of him. I love Vovo, but . . . "with a love so strange, ne'er towards him the path untrod shall be " . . . [Exit into Vovo's roorn\. Betsy comes down with a Lady. Koko hows significantly to Betsy. BETSY \shaking Koko's hand without turning towards him. To Lady] You are acquainted ? LADY. No. BETSY. Baron Klingen. . . . Why were you not here last night ? KOKo KLiNGEN. I could not comc, I was engaged. BETSY. What a pity, it was so interesting ! [Laughs] You should have seen what manifestations we had ! Well, how is our charade getting on .'' KOKO KLfNGEN. Oh, the vcrses for mon second are ready. Nick composed the verses, and I the music. BETSY. What are they ? What are they } Do tell me ! KOKO KLINGEN. Wait a minute ; how does it go ? . , . Oh, the knight sings : " Oh, naught so beautiful as nature : The Na/utUus sails by. Oh, naughty lass, oh, naughty lass I Oh, nought, oh nought I Oh fie ! " ' And that won't suit me at all, at all ! Not at all, at all I Fruits of Culture 215 LADY. I see, my second is " nought," and what is my first? KOKO KLfNGEN. My first is Aero, the name of a girl savage. BETSY. Aero, you see, is a savage who wished to devour the object of her love. [Laughs] She goes about lamenting, and sings — "My appetite," KOKo KLiNGEN [interrupts] — " How can I fight," . . . BETSY [chimes in] — " Some one to chew I long. I seeking go . . ." KOKO KLINGEN "But even so . . ." BETSY " No one to chew can find," KOKO KLfNGEN "A raft sails by,' BETSY " It Cometh nigh ; Two generals upon it , . ," KOKO KLfNGEN " Two generals are we : By fate's bard decree, To this island we flee." And then, the refrain — " By fate's hard decree. To this island we flee." LADY. Charmant ! BETSY. But just think how silly ! KOKO KLfNGEN. Yes, that's the charm of it ! LADY. And who is to be Aero ? BETSY. I am. And I have had a costume made, but mamma says it's "not decent." And it is not a bit less decent than a ball dress. [To Theodore Ivdniich] Is Bourdier's man here ? 2i6 Fruits of Culture THEODORE iVANiTCH. YcSj he is Waiting in the kitchen. LADY. Well, and how will you represent Aeronaut ? BETSY. Oh, you'll see. I don't want to spoil the plea- sure for you. Au revoir. LADY. Good-bye ! [They bom. Exit Lady], BETSY [to Koko Klingen\ Come up to mamma. Betsy and Koko go upstairs. Jacob enters from servants' quarters, carrying a tray with teacups, cakes, Sfc, and goes panting across the stage. JACOB [to the Footmen^ How d'you do ? How d'you do ? [Footmen borv\. JACOB [to Theodore Ivdnitch] Couldn't you tell Gregory to help a bit! I'm ready to drop. . . . [Exit up the stairs]. FIRST FOOTMAN. That is a hard-working chap you've got there. THEODORE IVANITCH. Yes, a good fellow. But there now — he doesn't satisfy the mistress, she says his appearance is ungainly. And now they've gone and told tales about him for letting some peasants into the kitchen yesterday. It is a bad look-out : they may dismiss him. And he is a good fellow. SECOND FOOTMAN. What peasants were they .'' THEODORE IVANITCH. Peasants that had come from our Koursk village to buy some land. It was night, and they •yere our fellow-countrymen, one of them the father of the butler's assistant. Well, so they were asked into the kitchen. It so happened that there was thought-reading going on. Something was hidden in the kitchen, and all the gentlefolk came down, and the mistress saw the peasants. There was such a row ! " How is this," she says ; " these people may be infected, and they are let into the kitchen ! " . . . She is terribly afraid of this infection. Enter Gregory. THEODORE IVANITCH. Gregory, you go and help Jacob. I'll stay here. He can't manage alone. Fruits of Culture 217 GREGORY. He's awkward, that's why he can't manage. [Exit]. FIRST FOOTMAN. And what is this new mania they have got ? This infection ! ... So yours also is afraid of it ? THEODORE iVANiTCH. She fcars it worse than fire ! Our chief business, nowadays, is fumigating, washing, and sprinkling. FIRST FOOTMAN. I See. That's why there is such a stuffy smell here. \Wilh animation] I don't know what we're coming to with these infection notions. It's just detest- able ! They seem to have forgotten the Lord. There's our master's sister. Princess Mosol6va, her daughter was dying and, will you believe it, neither father nor mother would come near her ! So she died without their having taken leave of her. And the daughter cried, and called them to say good-bye — but they didn't go ! The doctor had discovered some infection or other ! And yet their own maid and a trained nurse were with her, and nothing happened to them ; they're still alive ! Enter Vasily Leoniditch and Petristchef from Vasily Leonid- itch's room, smoldng cigarettes. PETRISTCHEF. Come along then, only I must take Koko — Cocoanut, with me. VASILY LEONIDITCH. Your Koko is a regular dolt ; I can't bear him. A hare-brained fellow, a regular gad-about ! Without any kind of occupation, eternally loafing around ! Eh, what ? PETRISTCHEF. Well, anyhow, wait a bit, I must say good- bye. VAsfLY LEONfniTCH. All right. And I will go and look at my dogs in the coachman's room. I've got a dog there that's so savage, the coachman said, he nearly ate him. PETRISTCHEF. Who atc whom } Did the coachman really eat the dog } VAsfLY LEONIDITCH. You are always at it ! \Puts on out- door things and goes 0!Ui\ 21 8 Fruits of Culture PETRfsTCHEF [thoughtfully] Ma-kin-toshj Co-co-tin. , , , Let's see. [Goes upstairs]. Jacob runs across the stage. THEODORE iVANiTCH. What's the matter.? JACOB. There is no more thin bread and butter. I said . . . [JSx/i]. SECOND FOOTMAN. And then our master's little son fell ill, and they sent him at once to an hotel with his nurse, and there he died without his mother. FIRST FOOTMAN. They don't seem to fear sin ! I think you cannot escape from God anywhere. THEODORE IVANITCH. That's what I think. Jacob runs upstairs with bread and butter. FIRST FOOTMAN. One should consider too^ that if we are to be afraid of everybody like that, we'd better shut our- selves up within four walls, as in a prison, and stick there ! Enter Tanya ; she bows to the Footmen. TANYA. Good afternoon. Footmen bow. TANYA. Theodore Ivanitch, I have a word to say to you. THEODORE IVANITCH. Well, what } TANYA. The peasants have come again, Theodore Ivan- itch . . . THEODORE IVANITCH. Well .'' I gavc the paper to Simon. TANYA. I have given them the paper. They were that grateful ! I can't say how ! Now they only ask you to take the money. THEODORE IVANITCH. But whcrc are they ? TANYA. Here, by the porch. THEODORE IVANITCH. All right, I'll tell the master. TANYA. I have another request to you, dear Theodore Ivanitch. THEODORE rvANTTCH. What now ? TANYA. Why, don't you see, Theodore Ivdnitch, I can't remain here any longer. Ask them to let me go. Enter Jacob, running. Fruits of Culture 219 THEODORE IVANITCH [to JocoU] What d'you want ? JACOB. Another samovdr, and oranges. THEODORE ivAnitch. Ask the housekeeper. Exit Jacob. THEODORE IVANITCH [to Tdnj/o] How is that ? tAnya. Why, don't you see, my position is such . . . JACOB [runs iri] There are not enough oranges. THEODORE FVANiTCH. Scrvc up as Hiany as you've got [Exit Jacob]. Now's not the time ! Just see what a bustle we are in. TANYA. But you know yourself, Theodore Ivanitch, there is no end to this bustle ; one might wait for ever — you know yourself — and my affair is for life. . . . Dear Theodore Ivinitch, you have done me a good turn, be a father to me now, choose the right moment and tell her, or else she'll get angry and won't let me have my passport.^ THEODORE FVANITCH. Where's the hurry ? tAnya. Why, Theodore Ivanitch, it's all settled now. . . . And I could go to my godmother's and get ready, and then after Easter we'd get married.^ Do tell her, dear Theodore Ivanitch ! THEODORE ivAnitch. Go away — this is not the place. An elderly Gentleman comes downstairs, puts on overcoat, and goes out followed by the Second Footman. Exit Tdnya. Enter Jacob. JACOB. Just fancy, Theodore Ivinitch, it's too bad ! She wants to discharge me now ! She says, " You break every- thing, and forget Frisk, and you let the peasants into the kitchen against my orders ! " And you know very well that I knew nothing about it. Tatyana told me, " Take them into the kitchen " ; how could I tell whose order it was ? 1 Employers have charge of the servants' passports, and in this way have a hold on them in case of misconduct. " See footnote, p. 28. It is customary for peasants to many just after Easter, but when spring has come and the field work begun, no marriages take place among them till autumn. 220 Fruits of Culture THEODORE ivANiTCH. Did the iiiistress speak to you ? JACOB. She's just spoken. Do speak up for me, Theodore Iv4nitch ! You see, my people in the country are only just getting on their feet, and suppose I lose my place, when shall I get another ? Theodore Ivdnitch, do, please ! Anna Pdvlovna comes doivn with the old Countess, whom she u seeing off. The Countess has false teeth and hair. The First Footman helps the Countess into her outdoor things. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Oh, most Certainly, of course ! I am so deeply touched. COUNTESS. If it were not for my illness, I should come oftener to see you. ANNA PAVLOVNA. You should really consult Peter Petrov- itch. He is rough, but nobody can soothe one as he does. He is so clear, so simple. COUNTESS. Oh no, I shall keep to the one I am used to. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Pray, take care of yourself COUNTESS. Merci, millefois merci. ^ Gregory, dishevelled and excited, jumps out from the servants' quarters. Simon appears behind him in the doorroay. SIMON. You'd better leave her alone ! GREGORY. You rascal ! I'll teach you how to fight, you scamp, you ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. What do you mean .'' Do you think you are in a public-house ? GREGORY. This coarse peasant makes life impossible for me. ANNA PAVLOVNA \^pronoheS\ You've lost your senses. Don't you see.' \To Cowniess\ Merci, mille fois merci. A mardi ! ^ Exeunt Countess and First Footman. ANNA PAVLOVNA \to Gregonj] What is the meaning of this? 1 COUNTESS. Thank you (for your hospitality), a thousand thanks. ' ANNA PjIvlovna. Thank you (for coming to see us), a thoueand thanks. Till next Tuesday 1 Fruits of Culture 221 GREGORY. Though I do occupy the position of a footman, still I won't allow every peasant to hit me; I have my pride too. ANNA PAVLovNA. Why, what has happened } GREGORY. Why, this Simon of yours has got so brave, sitting with the gentlemen, that he wants to fight ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. Why ? What for ? GREGORY. Heaven only knows ! ANNA PAVLOVNA [to Simoti] What is the meaning of it ? SIMON. Why does he bother her ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. What has happened ? SIMON [smiles] Well, you see, he is always catching hold of Tanya, the lady's-maid, and she won't have it. Well, so I just moved him aside a bit, just so, with my hand. GREGORY. A nice little bit ! He's almost caved my ribs in, and has torn my dress-coat, and he says, " The same power as came over me yesterday comes on me again," and he begins to squeeze me. ANNA PAVLOVNA [to Simon] How dare you fight in my house ? THEODORE ivANiTCH. May I explain it to you, ma'am ? I must tell you Simon is not indifferent to Tanya, and is engaged to her. And Gregory — one must admit the truth — does not behave properly, nor honestly, to her. Well, so I suppose Simon got angry with him. GREGORY. Not at all ! It is all his spite, because I have discovered their trickery. ANNA PAVLOVNA. What trickery ? GREGORY. Why, at the seance. All those things, last night, — it was not Simon but Tanya who did them ! I saw her getting out from under the sofa with my own eyes. ANNA PAVLOVNA. What is that .'' From under the sofa ? GREGORY. I give you my word of honour. And it was she who threw the paper on the table. If it had not been for her the paper would not have been signed, nor the land sold to the peasants. 222 Fruits of Culture ANNA PAVLOVNA. And you saw it yourself? GREGORY. With my own eyes. Shall I call her ? She'll not deny it. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Yes, Call her. Exit Gregory. Noise behind the scenes. The voice of the Doorkeeper, " No, no, you cannot." Doorkeeper is seen at the front door, the three Peasants rush m past him, the Second Peasant Jirst ; the Third one stumbles, falls on his nose, and catches hold of it. DOORKEEPER. You must not go in ! SECOND PEASANT. Where's the harm ? We are not doing anything wrong. We only wish to pay the money ! FIRST PEASANT. That's just it ; as by laying on the signa- ture the affair is come to a conclusion, we only wish to make payment with thanks. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Wait a bit with your thanks. It was all done by fraud ! It is not settled yet. Not sold yet. . . . Leonid. . . . Call Leonid Fyddoritch. [^Exit Doorkeeper^. Leonid Fyodoritch enters, but, seeing his wife and the Pea- sants, wishes to retreat. ANNA PAVLOVNA. No, no, comc here, please ! I told you the land must not be sold on credit, and everybody told you so, but you let yourself be deceived like the veriest blockhead. LEONID fy6doritch. How .'' I don't understand who is deceiving ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. You ought to be ashamed of yourself ! You have grey hair, and you let yourself be deceived and laughed at like a silly boy. You grudge your son some three hundred roubles which his social position demands, and let yourself be tricked of thousands — like a fool ! LEONID Fy6DORiTCH. Now come, Annette, try to be calm. FIRST PEASANT. We are only come about the acceptation of the sum, for example . . , Fruits of Culture 223 THIRD PEASANT [faking out the money] Let us finish the matter, for Christ's sake ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. Wait, wait ! Enter Tanya and Gregory. ANNA PAVLOVNA [angrili/] You were in the small drawing- room during the stance last night ? Tdnya looks round at Theodore Ivdnitch, Leonid Fyddoritch and Simon, and sighs. GREGORY. It's no usc beating about the bush ; I saw you myself . . . ANNA PAVLOVNA. Tell me, were you there ? I know all about it, so you'd better confess ! I'll not do anything to you. I only want to expose him [j>oiniing to Leonid Fyddor- itch] your master. . . . Did you throw the paper on the Uble? TANYA. I don't know how to answer. Only one thing, — let me go home. Enter Betsy unobserved. ANNA PAVLOVNA [to Leonid Fyddoritch] There, you see ! You are being made a fool of. TANYA. Let me go home, Anna Pavlovna ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. No, my dear ! You may have caused us a loss of thousands of roubles. Land has been sold that ought not to be sold ! tAnya. Let me go, Anna Pdvlovna ! ANNA pAvlovna. No ; you'll have to answer for it ! Such tricks won't do. We'll have you up before the Justice of the Peace ! BETSY [comes forward] Let her go, mamma. Or, if you wish to have her tried, you must have me tried too ! She and I did it together. anna PAVLOVNA. Well, of course, if you have a hand in anything, what can one expect but the very worst results I Enter the Professor. PROFESSOR. How do you do, Anna Pivlovna ? How do you do. Miss Betsy .'' Leonid Fy6dorltch, I have brought 224 Fruits of Culture you a report of the Thirteenth Congress of Spiritualists at Chicago. An amazing speech by Schmidt ! LEONID py6doritch. Ohj that is interesting ! ANNA PAVLovNA. I will tcU you Something much more interesting ! It turns out that both you and my husband were fooled by this girl! Betsy takes it on herself, but that is only to annoy me. It was an illiterate peasant girl who fooled you, and you believed it all. There were no mediumistic phenomena last night ; it was she [pointing to Tdnyd] who did it ! PROFESSOR \taking off his overcoat] What do you mean ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. I mean that it was she who, in the dark, played on the guitar and beat my husband on the head and performed all your idiotic tricks — and she has just confessed ! PROFESSOR [smiling] What does that prove ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. It provcs that your mediumism is — tomfoolery ; that's what it proves ! PROFESSOR. Because this young girl wished to deceive, we are to conclude that mediumism is " tomfoolery," as you are pleased to express it ? [Smiles] A curious conclusion ! Very possibly this young girl may have wished to deceive : that often occurs. She may even have done something ; but then, what she did — she did. But the manifesta- tions of mediumistic energy still remain manifestations of mediumistic energy ! It is even very probable that what this young girl did, evoked (and so to say solicited) the manifestation of mediumistic energy, — giving it a definite form. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Another lecture ! PROFESSOR [sternly] You say, Anna Pavlovna, that this girl, and perhaps this dear young lady also, did some- thing ; but the light we all saw, and, in the first case the fall, and in the second the rise of temperature, and Gross- man's excitement and vibration — were those things also done by this girl } And these are facts, Anna Pdvlovna, Fruits of Culture 225 facts ! No ! Anna Pdvlovna, there are things which must be investigated and fully understood before they can be talked about, things too serious, too serious . . . LEONID fy6doritch. And the child that Marya Vasilevna distinctly saw ? Why, I saw it too. . . . That could not have been done by this girl. ANNA PAVLovNA. You think yourself wise, but you are — a fool. LEONID py6doritch. Well, I'm going. . . . AkxeyVladf- miritch, will you come ? [Exit into his study]. professor [shrug^ng his shoulders, follows] Oh, how far, how far, we still lag behind Western Europe ! Enter Jacob. ANNA PAVLOVNA [follotving Leonid Fyddoritch Tvith her eyes] He has been tricked like a fool, and he sees nothing ! [To Jacob] What do you want ? JACOB. How many persons am I to lay the table for.? ANNA pAvlovna. For how many .' . . . Theodore Ivan- itch ! Let him give up the silver plate to you. Be off, at once ! It is all his fault ! This man will bring me to my grave. Last night he nearly starved the dog that had done him no harm ! And, as if that were not enough, he lets the infected peasants into the kitchen, and now they are here again ! It is all his fault ! Be off at once ! Dis- charge him, discharge him ! [To Simon] And you, horrid peasant, if you dare to have rows in my house again, I'll teach you ! SECOND PEASANT. All right, if he is a horrid peasant there's no good keeping him ; you'd better discharge him too, and there's an end of it. ANNA PAVLOVNA [tvMle listening to him looks at Third Peasant] Only look ! Why, he has a rash on his nose — a rash ! He is ill ; he is a hotbed of infection ! ! Did I not give orders, yesterday, that they were not to be allowed into the house, and here they are again ? Drive them out ! p 226 Fruits of Culture THEODORE ivAnitch. Then are we not to accept their money ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. Their money ? Oh yes, take their money ; but they must be turned out at once, especially this one ! He is quite rotten ! THIRD PEASANT. That's not just, lady. God's my wit- ness, it's not just ! You'd better ask my old woman, let's say, whether I am rotten ! I'm clear as crystal, let's say. ANNA PAVLOVNA. He talks ! . . . Off, off with him ! It's all to spite me ! . . . Oh, I can't bear it, I can't ! . . . Send for the doctor ! [^Runs away, sobbing. Exit also Jacob and Gregory]. TANYA \to Betsy'\ Miss Elizabeth, darling, what am I to do now .'' BETSY. Never mind, you go with them and I'll arrange it all. [Exit]. FIRST PEASANT. Well, your reverence, how about the re- ception of the sum now .'' SECOND PEASANT. Let US Settle up, and go. THIRD PEASANT [JumhUng with the packet of bank-notes'] Had I known, I'd not have come for the world. It's worse than a fever ! THEODORE iVANiTCH \to Doorkeeper] Show them into my room. There's a counting-board there. I'll receive their money. Now go. DOORKEEPER. Comc along. THEODORE IVANITCH. And it's Tdnya you have to thank for it. But for her you'd not have had the land. FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. As she made the proposal, so she put it into effect. THIRD PEASANT. Shc's made men of us. Else what were we .'' We had so little land, no room to let a hen out, let's say, not to mention the cattle. Good-bye, dear ! When you get to the village, come to us and eat honey. SECOND PEASANT. Let me get home and I'll start brew- ing the beer for the wedding ! You will come ? Fruits of Culture 227 tAnya. Yes, I'll comCj I'll come ! [Shrieks] Simon, this is fine, isn't it ? [Exeunt Peasants]. THEODORE ivANiTCH. Well, Tanya, when you have your house I'll come to visit you. Will you welcome me ? TANYA. Dear Theodore IvAnitch, just the same as we would our own father ! [Embraces and kisses him]. Curtain. END OF " FRUITS OF CULTURE. THE LIVE CORPSE A FLAY IN SIX ACTS CHARACTERS THEODORE VASILYEVICH PROTASOV (fBDYa). ELISABETH ANDBl^YEVNA PBOTASOVA (lISa). His Wife MisHA. Their son. AittiA PAVLOVNA. Lisu's mother. SASHA. Lisa's younger, unmarried sister. VICTOR mihAylovioh karAnin. ANNA DltffTRIEVNA KAR^NINA. PRINCE SERGIUS DllfTBIEVICH ABR^ZKOV. masha. a gipsy girl. IVAN jiakArovich. An old gipsy man. ) ,,^ , , , , , . y Masha's parents. NASI ASIA IVANOVNA. An OMgipsy woman. ) officer. musician. first gipsy man. second gipsy man. gipsy woman. gipsy choir. DOCTOR. MICHAEL ALExAnDBOVICH APB^MOV. STAKHOV. 1 BUTK^viCH. \ Fedya's boon companions. korotk6v. ' IVAN PBTb6vICH ALExIndROV. vozNESi^NSKY. Kar^nin's secretary. petushk6v. An artist. ABT^MYEV. WAITER IN THE PRIVATE ROOM AT THE RESTAURANT. WAITER IN A LOW-CLASS BESTAURANT. MANAGEB OF THE SAME. POLICEMAN. 231 >22 The Live Corpse INVESTIGATING MAGISTRATE. M^LNIKOV. CLERK. USHER. YOUNG LAWYER. PETRi^sHiN. A lawyer. LADY. another officer, attendant at law courts, protasovs' nurse, protasovs' maid, apb^mov's footman, kari^nin's footman. THE LIVE CORPSE ACT I Scene 1 Protdsov's^ flat in Moscow. The scene represents a small dining-room. Anna Pdvlovna, a stout grey-haired lady, tightly laced, is sitting alone at the tea-table on which is a samovdr. Enter nurse, carrying a teapot. NURSE. May I have a little hot water, ma'am ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. Ycs. How's Baby ? NURSE. He's restless. . . . There's nothing worse than for a lady to nurse her baby herself! She has her troubles, and the child must suffer. What can her milk be like, when she lies awake crying all night .'' ANNA PAVLOVNA. But she sccms quieter now. NURSE. Quiet, indeed ! It makes one ill to see her. She's been writing something, and crying. Enter Sdsha. SASHA [to Nurse^ Lisa is looking for you. NURSE. I'm coming, I'm coming. [£»'<]. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Nursc says she keeps on crying. . . . Why can't she control herself.'' SASHA. Well really, mother, you are amazing ! . . . A * Protitsov is his family name, but the name by which he is usually addressed is F^dya, an abbreviation of his Christian name — Theodore. The ceremonious form of address would be Theodore Vasllyevioh. 234 The Live Corpse woman has left her husband, her child's father, and you expect her to be calm ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. Well, not Calm . . . But what's done is done ! If I, her mother, not only allowed my daughter to leave her husband, but am even glad she has done it, that shows he deserved it. One ought to rejoice, not to grieve, at the chance of freeing oneself from such a bad man ! SASHA. Mother, why say such things ? You know it's not true ! He's not bad — but on the contrary, he's a wonderful man, in spite of his weaknesses. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Ycs indeed, a " wonderful " man — as soon as he has money in his pocket — his own or other people's. . . . SASHA. Mother ! He has never taken other people's ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. Ycs he has — his wife's ! Where's the difference .'' SASHA. But he gave all his property to his wife ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. Of coursc, whcn he knew that other- wise he was sure to squander it all ! SASHA. Squander or not, I only know that a wife must not separate from her husband, especially from such a one as Fedya. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Then, in your opinion she ought to wait till he has squandered everything, and brought his gipsy mistresses into the house ? SASHA. He has no mistresses ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. That's the misfortune — he seems to have bewitched you all ! But not me — no ! He won't come over me ! I see through him, and he knows it. Had I been in Lisa's place I should have left him a year ago. SASHA. How lightly you say it ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. Not lightly at all. It's not a light thing for me, as a mother, to see my daughter divorced. Believe me it's not ! But yet it is better than ruining a The Live Corpse 235 young life. . . . No, I'm thankful to God that she has at last made up her mind, and that it is all over. SASHA. Perhaps it's not all over ! ANNA pivLOVNA. Oh ! If he only consentsto a divorce. . . . SASHA. What good will that do .'' ANNA pAvlovna. This good ; that she is young, and may again be happy. SASHA. Oh mother ! It's dreadful to hear you speak so ! Lisa can't love another. ANNA pavlovna. Why not, when she's free.'' Many a man a thousand times better than your Fedya might turn up who would be only too happy to marry Lisa. sAsHA. Mother, it's not right ! I know you're thinking of Victor Karenin. . . . ANNA PAVLOVNA. And why shouldn't I .'' He has loved her these ten years, and she loves him. SASHA. Yes, but not as a husband! They have been friends from childhood. ANNA PAVLOVNA, We know those friendships ! If only the obstacles were out of the way ! Enter Maid. ANNA PAVLOVNA. What is it ? MAID. The mistress has sent the porter with a note for Mr. Karenin. ANNA PAVLOVNA. What mistrcss ? MAID. Our mistress — Mrs. ProtAsova. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Well .'' MAID. Mr. Karenin has sent back word that he will come round at once. ANNA PAVLOVNA [siirprised] We were just speaking of him! Only I can't think why . . . [to Sdsha] Do you know? SASHA. Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don't ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. You always have secrets ! SASHA. Lisa will tell you herself when she comes. ANNA PAVLOVNA [shukes her head. To Maid] The 236 The Live Corpse samovir must be made to boil again. Take it, Doun- yislia. Maid takes samovar, and exit. ANNA PAVLOVNA \to Sdsha who has risen and is going o'u£\ It turns out just as I told you ! She sent for him at once. . . . SASHA. She may have sent for him for quite a different reason. ANNA PAVLOVNA. What for, then ? SASHA. Now, at this moment, Karenin is the same to her as old Nurse Trffonovna. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Well, you'U see. . . . Don't I know her ? She has sent for him to comfort her. SASHA. Oh mother, how little you know her, to be able to suppose . . . ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. Well, wc'U sec ! . . , And I am very, very glad. SASHA. We shall see ! \Eidt, humming a tune"]. ANNA PAVLOVNA [olone, shakes her head and mutters] It's all right, it's all right ! Enter Maid. MAID. Mr. Karenin has come. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Well then, show him in, and tell your mistress. Maid exit hy inner door. Enter Karenin, ruho bores to Anna Pdvlovna. KARENIN. Your daughter wrote to me to come. I meant to come and see you to-night, anyhow. So I was very pleased ... Is Elisabeth Andreyevna * well ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. Yes, she is well, but Baby is a bit rest- less. She will be here directly. [In a melancholy voice] Ah yes ! It is a sad time. . . . But you know all about it, don't you .'' KARENIN. I do. I was here, you know, the day before '■ Elisabeth Andreyevna is the polite way of speaking of Mrs. Piotisova, otherwise Lisa. The Live Corpse 237 yesterday, when his letter came. But is it possible that everything is irrevocably settled ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. Why of coursc ! Naturally! To go through it all again vi^ould be intolerable. KARENiN. This is a case where the proverb applies : " Measure ten times before you cut once." . . . It is very painful to cut into the quick. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Of course it is ; but then their marriage has long had a rift in it, so that the tearing asunder was easier than one would have thought. He himself sees that, after what has occurred, it is impossible for him to return. KARENIN. Why so ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. How Can you expect it, after all his horrid goings-on — after he swore it should not happen again, and that if it did he would renounce all rights as a husband and set her perfectly free ? KARisNiN. Yes, but how can a woman be free when she is bound by marriage ? ANNA PAVLOVNA. By divorcc. He promised her a divorce, and we shall insist on it. KARENIN. Yes, but Elisabeth Andrdyevna loved him so. . . . ANNA PAVLOVNA. Ah, but her love has suffered such trials that there can hardly be anything left of it ! Drunkenness, deception, and infidelity . . . Can one love such a husband ? KARENIN. Nothing is impossible to love. ANNA PAVLOVNA. You talk of love ! But how can one love such a man — a broken reed, whom one can never depend on .'' Don't you know what it came to . . . .'' [Looks round at the door, and continues hurriedly\ All his affairs in a muddle, everything pawned, nothing to pay with ! Then their uncle sends 2,000 roubles to pay the interest on their mortgaged estates, and he takes the money and disappears. His wife is left at home, with a 238 The Live Corpse sick baby, waiting for him — and at last gets a note asking her to send him his clothes and things ! KARENiN. Yes, yes ; I know. Enter Lisa and Sdsha. ANNA PAVLovNA. Well, here is Victor Mihaylovich,i obedient to your summons. KAHENiN. Yes, but I am sorry I was delayed for a few minutes. LISA. Thank you. I have a great favour to ask of you, and I have no one to turn to but you. KARENIN. Anything in my power . . . LISA. You know all about . . . ? KARENIN. I do. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Well then, I shall leave you \To Sdsha'\ Come, we'll leave them alone. [Exit tvith Sdsha\. LISA. Yes, he wrote to me saying that he considers everything at an end . . . [struggling with her tears] . . . and I was hurt ! . . . and so . . . In a word, I consented to break — I answered, accepting his renunciation. KARENIN. And now you repent .' LISA. Yes. I feel that I was wrong, and that I cannot do it. Anything is better than to be separated from him. In short — I want you to give him this letter. . . . Please, Victor, give him the letter, and tell him . , . and bring him back ! KARENIN [surprised] Yes, but how ? LISA. Tell him I ask him to forget everything, and to return. I might simply send the letter, but I know him : his first impulse, as always, will be the right one — but then someone will influence him, and he'll change his mind and not do what he really wants to. . . . KARENIN. I will do what I can. LISA. You're surprised at my asking you f KARENIN. No. . . . Yet, to tell you the truth — yes, I am surprised. ' The polite way of naming Mr. EaT^nin. The Live Corpse 239 LISA. But you are not angry ? KARENiN. As if I could be angry with you ! LISA. I asked you because I know you care for him. KARENIN. Him, and you too ! You know that. I am thinkiag not of myself, but of you. Thank you for trusting me ! I will do what I can. LISA. I know. ... I wUl tell you everything. To- day I went to Afremov's to find out where he was. I was told he had gone to the gipsies — which is what I feared most of all. I know he will get carried away if he is not stopped in time — ^and that's what has to be done. ... So you'll go .'' KARENIN. Of course, and at once. LISA. Go ! . . . Find him, and tell him all is forgotten and I am waiting for him. KARENIN. But where am I to look for him ? LISA. He is with the gipsies. I went there myself , . . I went as far as the porch, and wished to send in the letter, but changed my mind and decided to ask you. Here is the address. . . . Well, then, tell him to return : tell him nothing has happened ... all is forgotten. Do it for love of him, and for the sake of our friendship ! KARENIN. I will do all in my power ! [Bows, and exit\. LISA. I can't, I can't! Anything rather than . . I can't ! Enter Sdsha. SASHA. Well, have you sent ? Lisa nods affirmatively. SASHA. And he agreed .'' LISA. Of course. SASHA. But why just him ? I don't understand. LISA. But who else } SASHA. Don't you know he is in love with you ? LISA. That's dead and gone. Whom would you have had me send ? . . . Do you think he will come back ? SASHA. I am sure of it, because . . , 240 The Live Corpse Enter Anna Pdvlovna. Sdska is silent. ANNA PAVLovNA. And wherc is Victor Mihaylovich ? LISA. He's gone. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Gonc ! How's that ? LISA. I asked him to do something for me. ANNA PAVLOVNA. " Do Something ? " Another secret ! LISA. It's not a secret. I simply asked him to give a letter into Fedya's own hands. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Fedya f What — to Theodore Vasflye- vich? LISA. Yes, to Fedya. ANNA PAVLOVNA. I thought all relations between you ■were over ! LISA. I can't part from him. ANNA PAVLOVNA. What? Are you going to begin all over again ? LISA. I wanted to, and tried . . . but I can't ! Anything you like — only I can't part from him ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. Then do you want to have him back again ? LISA. Yes. ANNA PAVLOVNA. To let that skunk into the house again .'' LISA. Mother, I beg you not to speak so of my husband ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. He tvus jouT husband. LISA. No, he is my husband still. ANNA PAVLOVNA. A Spendthrift, a drunkard, a rake . . . and you can't part irom him .'' LISA. Why do you torment me ! You seem to want to do it. . . . It's hard enough for me without that. ANNA PAVLOVNA. I tormcnt you ! Well then, I'll go. I can't stand by and see it. . . • Lisa is silent. ANNA PAVLOVNA. I scc ! That's just what you want — I'm in your way. ... I can't live so. I can't make you out at all ! It's all so new-fangled — first you make up The Live Corpse 241 your mind to separate, then you suddenly send for a man who is in love with you . . . LISA. Nothing of the kiiad. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Karcnin proposed to you . . . and you send him to fetch your husband ! Why ? To arouse jealousy ? LISA. Mother, what you are saying is terrible ! Leave me alone ! ANNA PAVLOVNA. Very well ! Turn your mother out of the house, and let in your rake of a husband ! . . . Yes, I will not remain here ! Good-bye, then — I leave you to your fate ; you can do as you please ! [Exit slamming door]. LISA [drops into a chair] That's the last straw ! SASHA. Never mind. ... It will be all right; we'll soon pacify Mother. ANNA PAVLOVNA [^ossing througK] Dunyisha ! My trunk ! SASHA. Mother, listen ! . . . [follows her out with a significant glance to Lisa]. Curtain. Scene 2 A room in the gipsies' house. The choir is singing " Kana- vela." Fedya in his shirt-sleeves is lying prone on the sofa. Afremov sits astride a chair in front of the leader of the choir. An officer sits at a table, on which are bottles of champagne and glasses. A musician is taking notes. AFREMOV. F6dya, are you asleep ? FEDYA [rising] Don't talk. . . . Now let's have " Not at Eve." 242 The Live Corpse GIPSY LEADER. That woii't do, Thcodore Vasilyevich! Let Masha sing a solo now. FEDYA. All right! And then, "Not at Eve." [Lies donm agaiti]. OFFICER. Sing " Fateful Hour." GIPSY. All agreed ? AFREMOV. Go on ! OFFICER [to musician] Have you taken it down ? MUSICIAN. Quite impossible ! It's different every time. . . . And the scale is somehow different. Look here! [Beckons to a gipsy woman who is looking on] Is this right ? [Hums]. GIPSY. That's it, that's splendid ! FEDYA. He'll never get it ; and if he does take it down and shoves it into an opera, he'll only spoil it ! . . . Now, Masha, start off ! Let's have " Fateful Hour " — take your guitar. [Rises, sits down opposite her, and gases into her eyes]. Mdsha sings. FEDYA. That's good too ! Mdsha, you're a brick I . . . Now then, " Not at Eve " ! AFREMOV. No, wait ! First, my burial song. . . . OFFICER. Why burial ? AFREMOV. Because, when I'm dead . . . you know, dead and laid in my coffin, the gipsies will come (you know I shall leave instructions with my wife) and they wUl begin to sing " I Walked a Mile "... and then I'll jump oijt of my coffin! . . . Do you understand ? [To the musician] You just write this down. [To the gipsies] Well, rattle along! Gipsies sing. AFREMOV. What do you think of that ? . . . Now then, " My Brave Lads " ! Gipsies sing. Afremov gesticulates and dances. The gipsies smile and continue singing, clapping their hands. Afremov sits down and the song ends. The Live Corpse 243 GIPSIES. Bravo! Michael Andreyevich ! * He's a real gipsy ! FEDYA. Well, now " Not at Eve " ! Gipsies sing. Fedya. That's it ! It's wonderful . . . And where does it all happen — all that this music expresses? Ah, it's fine ! . . . And how is it man can reach such ecstasy, and cannot keep it ? MUSICIAN [taking notes] Yes, it's most original, F^DYA. Not original — but the real thing ! AFREMOv [to gipsies] Well, have a rest now. [Takes the guitar and sits down beside Kdtya, one of the gipsies], MUSICIAN. It's really simple, except the rhythm. . . . FEDYA [waves his hand, goes to Mdsha, and sits down on sofa beside her] Oh, M4sha, M^sha ! How you do turn me inside-out ! mAsha. And how about what I asked you for ? riiDYA. What.'' Money .J" . . . [Takes some out of his trouser-pocket] Here, take it ! Mdsha laughs, takes it, and hides it in her bosom. F^DYA [to the gipsies] Who can make it out } She opens heaven for me, and then asks for money to buy scents with ! [To Mdsha] Why, you don't in the least under- stand what you're doing ! MASHA. Not understand indeed ! I understand that when I am in love, I try to please my man, and sing all the better. FEDYA. Do you love me ? MASHA. Looks like it ! F^DYA. Wonderful ! [Kisses her]. Exeunt most of the gipsies. Some couples remain : FSdya with Mdsha, Afrimov with Kdtya, and the officer with Gdsha. The musician writes. A gipsy man strums a valse tune on the guitar. 1 The polite way of addressing Mr. Afr^mov. 244 T^^ Live Corpse FEDYA. But I'm married, and your choir won't allow it. . . . MASHA. The choir is one thing, one's heart's another ! I love those I love, and hate those I hate. F^DYA. Ah ! This is good ! Isn't it .'' MASHA. Of course it's good — we've jolly visitors, and are all merry. Enter gipsy man. GIPSY [to Fedyd] A gentleman is asking for you. F^DYA. What gentleman ? GIPSY. I don't know. . . . Well dressed, wears a sable overcoat — F^DYA. A swell ? Well, ask him in. [Exit Gipsy]. AFREMov. Who has come to see you here ? FEDYA. The devil knows ! Who can want me .'' Enter Karenin. Looks round. FEDYA. Ah, Victor ! I never expected you ! , . . Take off your coat! . . . What wind has blown you here? Come, sit down and listen to " Not at Eve." KARENIN. Je voudrais vous parler sans temoins.^ Fi;DYA. What about ? KARENIN. Je viens de chez vous. Voire femme m'a chargi de ceite lettre et puis . . .^ FEDYA [takes letter, reads, frowns, then smiles affection- ately] I say, Karenin, of course you know what is in this letter } KARENIN. I know . . . and I want to say . . . F^DYA. Wait, wait a bit ! Please don't imagine that I am drunk and my words irresponsible. ... I mean, that I am irresponsible ! I am drunk, but in this matter I see quite clearly. . . . Well, what were you com- missioned to say .'' KARENIN. I was Commissioned to find you, and to tell ' I wanted to speak to yon alone. ^ I have come from your home. Tour wife has entrusted me with this letter, and besides . . . The Live Corpse 245 you . . . that . . . she ... is waiting for you. She asks you to forget everything and come back. FEDYA [listens in silence, gazing into Karenin's eyes'\ Still, I don't understand why you . . . KARENIN. Elisabeth Andreyevna sent for me, and asked me . . . FEDYA. So . . . KARENIN. But I ask you, not so much in your wife's name as from myself. . . . Come home ! FEDYA. You are a better man than I. (What nonsense ! It is easy enough to be better than I) ... I am a scoundrel, and you are a good — yes, a good man. . . . And that is the very reason why I won't alter my decision. . . . No ! Not on that account either — but simply because I can't and won't. . . . How could I return ? KARENIN. Let us go to my rooms now, and I'll tell her that you will return to-morrow. FEDYA. And to-morrow, what ? . . . I shall still be I, and she — she. [Goes to the table and drinks^ It's best to have the tooth out at one go. . . . Didn't I say that if I broke my word she was to throw me over ? Well, I have broken it, and that's the end of it. KARENIN. For you, but not for her ! FEDYA. It is extraordinary that you should take pains to prevent our marriage being broken up ! KARENIN [is about to speak, but Mdsha comes up] . . . FEDYA [interrupting hini] Just hear her sing " The Flax " ! . . . Masha ! The gipsies re-enter. MASHA [whispers] An ovation, eh ? FEDYA [laughs] An ovation! . . . "Victor, my Lord! Son of Michael ! " . . . Gipsies sing a song of greeting and laudation. KARENIN [listens in confusion then asks] How much shall I give them ? 246 The Live Corpse FBDYA. Well, give them twenty-five roubles.* Karenin gives the money. FEDYA. Splendid ! And now, " The Flax ! " Gipsies sing. FEDYA [looks roujid] Kar6nin's bunked ! . , . Well, devil take him ! Gipsy group breaks up. FEDYA [sits down hy Mctshaj Do you know who that was ? MASHA. I heard his name. FEDYA. He's an excellent fellow ! He came to take me home to my wife. She loves a fool like me, and see what I am doing here . . . ! MASHA. Well, and it's wrong ! You ought to go back to her. . . . You ought to pity her. FEDYA. You think I ought to ? Well, I think I ought not. MASHA. Of course, if you don't love her you need not Only love counts. FEDYA. And how do you know that ? MASHA. Seems I do ! FEDYA. Well, kiss me then ! . . . Now, let's have " The Flax " once more, and then finish up. Gipsies sing. FEDYA. Ah, how good it is ! If only one hadn't to wake up ! . . . If one could die so ' * About £2, 10s. Curtain. ACT II Scene 1 Two weeks have passed since Act 1. Anna Pdvlovna and KarSnin are discovered sitting in Lisa's dining-room. Enter Sdsha. KARENiN. Wellj what news ? SASHA. The doctor says there is no danger at present, as long as he does not catch cold. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Ycs, but Lisa is quite worn out. SASHA. He says it's false croup, and a very mild attack. \Points to a hasket'\. What's that .' ANNA PAVLOVNA. Grapes. Victor brought them. KARENIN. Won't you have some ? sAsHA. Yes, she likes grapes. She has become terribly nervous. KARENIN. Naturally — after not sleeping for two nights, and not eating. SASHA. And how about you. KARENIN. That's quite another matter. Enter doctor and Lisa. DOCTOR \impressively\ Yes, that's it. Change it every half-hour if he's awake, but if he's asleep don't disturb him. You need not paint the throat. The room must be kept at its present temperature . . . LISA. But if he again begins to choke .'' DOCTOR. He probably won't, but if he should, use the spray. And give him the powders : one in the morning and the other at night. I will give you the prescription now. 248 The Live Corpse ANNA PAVLovNA. Havc a cup of tea, doctor ? DOCTOR. No thanks. . . . My patients are expecting me. Sits down to the table. Sdsha brings him paper and ink. LISA. So you're sure it is not croup ? DOCTOR \smiling\ Perfectly certain ! KARENiN [to Lisa'\ And now have some tea, or, better still, go and lie down ! . . . Just see what you look like. . . . LISA. Oh, now I am alive again. Thank you, you are a true friead ! [Presses his hand. Sdsha moves away angrily\ I am so grateful to you, dear friend ! At such times one recog . . . KARENIN. What have I done ? There's really no cause at all to thank me. LISA. And who stopped up all night .■' Who fetched the very best doctor ? KARENIN. I am already fully rewarded by the fact that Misha is out of danger ; and above all by your kindness. LISA [presses his hand again and laughs, showing him some money in her hand] That's for the doctor; but I never know how to give it. . . . KARENIN. Neither do I. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Don't know what ? USA. How to give money to a doctor. . . . He has saved more than my life, and I give him money ! It seems so unpleasant. , ANNA PAVLOVNA. Let me give it. , I know how. It's quite simple. DOCTOR [rises and hands the prescription to Lisa] These powders are to be well mixed in a tablespooniiil of boiled water . . . [goes on talking]. Karenin sits at the table drinking tea ; Sdsha and Anna Pdvlovna come forward. SASHA. I can't bear the way they go on ! It's just as if she were in love with him. The Live Corpse 249 ANNA PAVLOVNA. Well, Can it be wondered at ? sASHA. It's disgusting ! Doctor takes leave of everybody, and exit. Anna Pdvlovna goes with him. LISA [to Karenin] He's so sweet now ! As soon as evei he was a little better he at once began to smile and crow. I must go to him, but I don't like leaving you. KARENiN. You had better have a cup of tea, and eat something. LISA. I don't want anything now. I am so happy after all that anxiety ! . . . [So6*]. KARENIN. There ! You see how worn out you are ! LISA. I'm so happy ! . . . Would you like to have a look at him ? KARENIN. Of course. LISA. Then come with me. [Exeunt]. ANNA PAVLOVNA [returning to Sdsha] What are you look- ing so glum about ? . . . I gave him the money quite well, and he took it. sASHA. It's disgusting I She has taken him with her to the nursery. It's just as if he were her Jiance or her husband. . . . ANNA PAVLOVNA. Whatever does it matter to you ? Why need you get excited about it ? Did you mean to marry him yourself? SASHA. I .'' Marry that pikestaff.'' I'd rather marry I don't know whom, than him ! Such a thing never entered my head. ... I am only disgusted that, after F^dya, Lisa can be so attracted by a stranger. ANNA PAVLOVNA. Not a Stranger, but an old playfellow ! SASHA. Don't I see by their smiles and looks that they are in love .'' ANNA PAVLOVNA. Well, what is there to be surprised at in that ? He shares her anxiety about her baby, shows sympathy and helps her . . . and she feels grateful. Besides, why should she not love and marry Victor ? 250 The Live Corpse SASHA. That would be disgusting — disgusting. . . . Enter Karenin and Lisa. Karenin silently takes leave. Sdsha goes off angrily. USA [to Anna Pdvlovna'] What's the matter with her? ANNA PAVLOVNA. I really don't know. Lisa sighs, and is silent. Curtain. Scene 2 Afremov's sitting-room. Glasses of mine on the table. Afremov, Fedya Stdkhov (shaggy), Butkevich (close-shaven), and Korotkom {a tuft-hunter). korotk6v. And I tell you that he'll be out of the run- ning ! La Belle Bois is the best horse in Europe. . . . Will you bet ? STAKHOV. Don't, my dear fellow. . . . You know very well that nobody believes you, or will bet with you. korotk6v. I tell you your Cartouche won't be in it ! AFREMOV. Stop quarrelling ! Let me settle it . . . ask Fedya — he'll give you the right tip. FEDYA. Both horses are good. All depends on the jockey. STAKHOv. Giisev is a rascal, and needs a firm hand on him. korotk6v [shouts'l No ! FEDYA. Wait a bit — I'll settle your differences. . . . Who won the Moscow Derby ? korotk6v. He did — but what of that.' It was only chance. If Crakus had not fallen ill. . . . [Enter footman]. AFREMOV. What is it .■" FOOTMAN. A lady has come, and is asking for Mr. Protasov. The Live Corpse 251 AFREMov. What is she like ? A real lady ? FOOTMAN. I don't know her name, but she's a real lady. AFKEMov. Fedya ! a lady to see you ! FEDYA [startled] Who is it ? AFREMov. He doesn't know. FOOTMAN. Shall I ask her into the dining-room ? FEDYA. No, wait . . . I'll go myself and see. Exeunt Fedya and footman. korotk6v. Who can it be ? It must be Masha. STAKHOV. Which Masha ? korotk6v. The gipsy. She's in love with him, like a cat. sTAKHOv. What a darling she is ... ! And how she sings ! AFREMOV. Charming ! Tanyiisha and she ! They sang with Peter yesterday. STAKHOV. What a lucky fellow that is ! AFREMOV. Why ? Because the girls are all sweet on him ? Not much luck in that ! korotk6v. I can't bear gipsies — nothing refined about them. BUTK^vicH. No, you can't say that ! korotk6v. I'd give the whole lot for one French woman ! AFREMOV. Yes, we know you — and your aesthetics ! . . . I'll go and see who it is. [jEot^]. STAKHOV. If it's Masha, bring her in here ! We'll make her sing. . . . No, the gipsies aren't what they used to be. Tanyiisha, now — by Gad ! BUTKEVicH. And I believe they're just the same. STAKHOV. Just the same .'' When instead of their own pieces they sing empty drawing-room songs f BUTKEVICH. Some drawing-room songs are very good. korotk6v. Will you bet I don't get them to sing a drawing-room song so that you won't know it from one of their own? 252 The Live Corpse STAKHOV. Korotk6v always wants to bet ! Enter Afremov. AFREMov. I say, you fellows, it's not Masha — and there's no room he can ask her into but this. Let us clear out to the billiard room. \Exeunt\. Enter Fedya and Sdsha. SASHA [confused^ Fedya, forgive me if it's unpleasant — but for God's sake hear me ! . . . [Her voice trembles]. Fedya walks up and down the room. Sdsha sits down, and follows him with her eyes. SASHA. Fedya ! Come home ! FEDYA. Just listen to me, Sasha ... I quite understand youj Sasha dear, and in your place I should do the same — I should try to find some way to bring back the old state of affairs. But if you were me, if — strange as it sounds — you, dear sensitive girl, were in my place . . . you would certainly have done as I did, and have gone away and ceased to spoil someone else's life. SASHA. Spoil ? How ? As if Lisa could live without you ! FEDYA. Oh, Sasha dear ! Dear heart ! . . . She can, she can ! And she will yet be happy — far happier than with me. SASHA. Never! FEDYA. It seems so to you [Takes her hand] . . . But that's not the point. The chief thing is, that I can't ! . . . You know, one folds a piece of thick paper this way and that a hundred times and still it holds together ; but fold it once more, and it comes in half. ... So it was with Lisa and me. It hurts me too much to look into her eyes — and she feels the same, believe me ! SASHA. No, no ! FiiDYA. You say " No," but you yourself know that it is " Yes " ! SASHA. I can only judge by myself. If I were in her place, and you answered as you are doing, it would be dreadful ! The Live Corpse 253 FEDYA. Yes, for _^0M . . . [Pause; both are agitated]. SASHA [n«e*] Must things really remain so ? FEDYA. I suppose . . . SASHA. Fedya come back ! F^DYA. Thank you, Sasha dear ! You will always remain a precious memory to me. . . . But good-bye, dear heart ! . . . Let me kiss you. [Kisses her forehead]. SASHA [agitated] No, I don't say good-bye, and I don't believe, and won't believe . . . F6dya ! FEDYA. Well then, listen ! But give me your word that what I tell you, you won't repeat to anybody — do you promise ? SASHA. Of course ! FEDYA. Well then, listen, Sdsha. . . . It's true that I am her husband and the father of her child, but I am — superfluous ! Wait, wait — don't reply. . . . You think I'm jealous ? Not at all ! In the first place, I have no right ; secondly, I have no cause. Victor Kar6nin is her old friend and mine too. He loves her, and she him. sAsHA. No ! FEDYA. She does — as an honest, moral woman can, who does not allow herself to love anyone but her husband. But she loves, and will love him when this obstacle [points to himself] is removed ; and I will remove it, and they shall be happy ! [His voice trembles]. SASHA. Fedya, don't talk like that ! F^DYA. Why, you know very well that it's true ! And I shall be glad of their happiness, and it's the best I can do. I shall not return, but shall give them their freedom. . . ■ Tell them so. . . . Don't answer — and good-bye ! Kisses her on the forehead, and opens the door for her, SASHA. Fedya — ^you are wonderful ! FEDYA. Good-bye, good-bye ! . . . [Eicit Sdsha]. FEDYA. Yes, yes. . . . That's the thing . . . that's the thing ! . . . [Rings]. 254 The Live Corpse Enter footmcm. FEDYA. Call your master. . . . [JExit footman]. . , , And it's true — it's true. Enter Afremov. FEDYA. Come along ! AFREMOV. Have you settled matters ? FEDYA. Splendidly ! [iSirag*] " And she swore by ev'ry power . . ," Splendidly ! . . . Where are they all ? AFHEMOV. They're playing billiards. FEDYA. That's right — we will too [Sings] " Rest here, just an hour , . ," Come along I Curtain. ACT III Scene 1 Prince Abriskov, a sixty-year-old bachelor with moustaches, a retired army man, elegant, very dignified and melancholy- looking. Anna Dmitrievna Kar^nina ( Victor's mother), ajifty- year-old " grande dame" who tries to appear younger, and intersperses her remarks with French expressions. Anna Dmitrievna' s sitting-room, furnished with expensive simplicity, andjilled with souvenirs. Anna Dmitrievna is writing. Footman enters. FOOTMAN. Prince Abr6zkov . . . ANNA DMfTRiEVNA. Yes, Certainly . . . [Turns round and touches herself up before the looking-glass"]. Enter Abrezkov. PRINCE ABREZKOV. T esperc que je ne force pas la con- signe. . . .^ [Kisses her handj. ANNA DMfTRiEVNA. You know that vous eles toujours le bienvenu ^ — and to-day especially ! You got my note .'' PRINCE ABREZKOV. I did, and this is my answer. ANNA DMfTRiEVNA. Ah, my friend ! I begin quite to despair. II est positivement ensorceli !^ I never before knew him so insistent, so obstinate, so pitiless, and so indifferent to me. He has quite changed since that woman dismissed her husband ! ' I hope I am not forcing myself on you. * Ton are always welcome. ' He is positively bewitched I >5S 256 The Live Corpse PRINCE ABREZKOV. What are the facts ? How do matters actually stand ? ANNA dmItrievna. He wants to marry her come what may. PRINCE ABRiEZKov. And how about the husband ? ANNA DMfTRiEVNA. He agrccs to a divorce. PRINCE ABREZKOV. Dear me ! ANNA dmItrievna. And he, Victor, lends himself to it, with all the abominations — lawyers, proofs of guilt — tout ga est degoutant ! ^ And it doesn't seem to repel him. I don't understand him — he was always so sensitive, so reserved . . . PRINCE ABREZKOV. He is in love ! Ah, when a man really loves . . . ANNA DMiTRiEVNA. Ycs, but how is it that in our day love could be pure — could be a loving friendship, lasting through life ? That kind of love I understand and value. PRINCE ABREZKOV. Nowadays the young generation no longer contents itself with those ideal relations. La pos- session de I'ame ne leur suffit plus? It can't be helped ! . . . What can one do with him .'' ANNA DMITRIEVNA. You must not Say that of Mm — but it's as if he were under a spell. It's just as if he were someone else. . . . You know, I called on her. He begged me so. I went there, did not find her in, and left my card. Elle m'a fait demander si je ne pourrais la recevoir ; ^ and to-day \looks at the cloc/c] at two o'clock, that is in a few minutes' time, she will be here. I promised Victor I would receive her, but you understand how I am placed ! I am not myself at all ; and so, from old habit, I sent for you. I need your help ! PRINCE ABREZKOV. Thank you. ANNA DMITRIEVNA. This visit of hers, you understand, * It is all disgusting 1 " For them, to possess the soul is no longer enough. » She inquired whether I would receive her. The Live Corpse 257 will decide the whole matter — Victor's fate ! I must either refuse my consent — but how can I ? PRINCE ABREZKov. Don't you know her at all ? ANNA DMiTRiEVNA. I have never seen her. But I'm afraid of her. A good woman could not consent to leave her husband, and he a good man, too ! As a fellow- student of Victor's he used to visit us, you know, and was very nice. But whatever he may be, quels-que soient les torts qu'il a eu vis-a-vis d'elle,^ one must not leave one's husband. She ought to bear her cross. What I don't understand is how Victor, with the convictions he holds, can think of marrying a divorced woman ! How often — quite lately — he has argued warmly with Spitsin in my presence, that divorce was incompatible with true Chris- tianity ; and now he himself is going in for it ! Si elle a pu le charmer a un tel point ^ . . . I am afraid of her ! But I sent for you to know what you have to say to it all, and instead of that I have been doing all the talking myself ! What do you think of it .'' Tell me your opinion. What ought I to do ? You have spoken with Victor ? PRINCE ABBEZKOV. I havc : and I think he loves her. He has grown used to loving her ; and love has got a great hold on him. He is a man who takes things slowly but firmly. What has once entered his heart will never leave it again ; and he will never love anyone but her ; and he can never be happy without her, or with anyone else. ANNA DMITRIEVNA. And how willingly Varya Kazdntseva would have married him ! What a girl she is, and how she loves him ! PRINCE ABREZKOV [smtUng]. C Bst Compter sans son hote/' That is quite out of the question now. I think it's best to submit, and help him to get married. ^ However he may have wronged her. ' If she has been able to charm him to such a degree . • . " Tbat's reckoning without your host I 258 The Live Corpse ANNA DMiTRiEVNA, To a divorced woman — and have him meet his wife's husband ? . . . I can't think how you can speak of it so cahnly. Is she a woman a mother could wish to see as the wife of her only son — and such a son ? PRINCE ABREZKOV. But what Is to be donCj my dear friend ? Of course it would be better if he married a girl whom you knew and liked ; but since that's impos- sible ... Besides it's not as if he were going to marry a gipsy, or goodness knows who . . . ! Lisa Protasova is a very nice good woman. I know her, through my niece Nelly, and know her to be a modest, kind-hearted, affec- tionate and moral woman. ANNA DMfTRiEVNA. A moral woman — who makes up her mind to leave her husband ! PRINCE ABREZKOV. This Is not like you ! You're unkind and harsh ! Her husband is the kind of man of whom one says that they are their own worst enemies ; but he is an even greater enemy to his wife. He is a weak, fallen, drunken fellow. He has squandered all his property and hers too. She has a child. . . . How can you condemn her for leaving such a man ? Nor has she left him : he left her. ANNA DMf TKiEVNA. Oh, what mud ! What mud ! And I have to soil my hands with it ! PRINCE ABREZKOV. And how about your religion } ANNA DMixRiEVNA. Of course, of course ! To forgive, "As we forgive them that trespass against us." Mais, c'esi plus fort qui moi ! PRINCE ABREZKOV. How could shc livc with such a man ? If she had not loved anyone else she would have had to leave him. She would have had to, for her child's sake. The husband himself — an intelligent kind-hearted man when he is in his senses — advises her to do it. . . . Enter Victor, who kisses his mother's hand and greets Prince Abrdzkov. ' But it's beyond me ! The Live Corpse 259 VICTOR. Mother, I have come to say this: Elisabeth Andr^yevna will be here in a minute, and I beg, I implore you — if you still refuse your consent to my marriage . . . ANNA DMiTRiEVNA [intermpUng him] Of course I still refuse my consent . . . VICTOR [continues his speech and frowns] In that case I beg, I implore you, not to speak to her of your refusal ! Don't settle matters negatively . . . ANNA DMiTRiEVNA. I don't expcct we shall mention the subject. For my part, I certainly won't begin. VICTOR. And she is even less likely to. I only want you to make her acquaintance. ANNA DMiTRiEVNA. The One thing I can't understand is how you reconcile your desire to marry Mrs. ProtAsova, who has a husband living, with your religious conviction that divorce is contrary to Christianity. VICTOR. Mother, this is cruel of you ! Are we really so immaculate that we must always be perfectly consistent when life is so complex .■' Mother, why are you so cruel to me .'' ANNA DMfTRiEVNA. I love you. I desire your happiness. VICTOR \to Prince Abrezkov] Prince ! PRINCE ABREZKOV. Of coursB you desire his happiness. But it is not easy for you and me, with our grey hairs, to understand the young ; and it is particularly difficult for a mother grown accustomed to her own idea of how her son is to be happy. Women are all like that. ANNA DMITRIEVNA. Yes, ycs indeed ! You are all against me ! You may do it, of course. Vous Stes majeur.^ . . . But you will kill me ! VICTOR. You are not yourself. This is worse than cruelty 1 PRINCE ABREZKOV [to Fictor] Bc quiet, Victor. Your mother's words are always worse than her deeds. ^ You are of age. 26o The Live Corpse ANNA DMiTRiEVNA. I shall tell her how I think and feel, but I will do it without offending her. PRINCE ABREZKov. Of that I am sure. Enter footman. PRINCE ABREZKOV. Here she is. VICTOR. I'll go. FOOTMAN. Elisabeth Andr^yevna Protasova. VICTOR. I am going. Please, Mother ! \Exit. Prince AbrSzkoo also rises. ANNA DMfTRiEVNA. Ask her in. [To Prince Abrezkov] No, you must please stay here ! PRINCE ABREZKOV. I thought you'd find a tete-d-teie easier. ANNA DMfxRiEVNA. Noj I'm afraid ... [Is restless] If I want to be left tete-A-tete with her, I will nod to you. Cela dependra.^ . . . To be left alone with her may make it difficult for me. But I'll do like that if . . . [Makes a mgn]. PRINCE ABREZKOV. I shall Understand. I feel sure you will like her. Only be just. ANNA DMiTHiEVNA. How you are all against me ! Enter Lisa, in visiting dress and hat. ANNA DMfTRiEVNA [rising] I was soriy not to find you in, and it is kind of you to call. LISA. I never dreamed that you'd be so good as to call. ... I am so grateful to you for wishing to see me. ANNA DMITHIEVNA [pointing to Prince AbrSzkov] You are acquainted ? PRINCE ABREZKOV. Ycs, Certainly. I have had the pleasure of being introduced. [They shake hands and sit down] My niece Nelly has often mentioned you to me. LISA. Yes, she and I were great friends [glancing timidly at Anna Dmitrievna], and we are still friendly. [To Anna Dmitrievna] I never expected that you would wish to see me. ANNA DMfTRiEVNA. I knew your husband well. He was ' It will depend. The Live Corpse 261 friendly with Victor, and used to come to our house before he left for Tambov. I think it was there you married ? LISA. Yes, it was there we married. ANNA dmIthievna. But after his return to Moscow he never visited us. LISA. Yes, he hardly went out anywhere. anna dmitrievna. And he never introduced you to me. [jiwkward silence. prince abrezkov. The last time I met you was at the theatricals at the Denisovs'. They went off very well; and you were acting. LISA. No . . . Yes . . . Of course ... I did act. [Silence again\ Anna Dmitrievna, forgive me if what I am going to say displeases you, but I can't and don't know how to dissemble ! I have come because Victor Mihdylovich said . . . because he — I mean, because you wished to see me. . . . But it is best to speak out \with a catch in her voice'\ ... It is very hard for me. . . . But you are kind. PRINCE ABREZKOV. I'd better go. ANNA DMfTRIEVNA. Ycs, do. Prince Abrezkov takes leave of both women, and exit. ANNA DMITRIEVNA. Listen, Lisa ... I am very sorry for you, and I like you. But I love Victor. He is the one being I love in the world. I know his soul as I know my own. It is a proud soul. He was proud as a boy of seven. . . . Not proud of his name or wealth, but proud of his character and innocence, which he has guarded. He is as pure as a maiden. LISA. I know. ANNA DMITRIEVNA. He has ncvcr loved any woman. You are the first. I do not say I am not jealous. I am jealous. But we mothers — your son is still a baby, and it is too soon for you — we are prepared for that. I was 262 The Live Corpse prepared to give him up to his wife and not to be jealous — but to a wife as pure as himself . . . LISA. I . . have I . . . ANNA DMiTHiEVNA. Forgive me ! I know it was not your fault, but you are unfortunate. And I know him. Now he is ready to bear — and will bear — anything, and he would never mention it, but he would suffer. His wounded pride would suffer, and he would not be happy. LISA. I have thought of that. ANNA DMiTRiEVNA. Lisa, my dear, you are a wise and good woman. If you love him you must desire his happiness more than your own. And if that is so, you will not wish to bind him and give him cause to repent — though he would never say a word. LISA. I know he wouldn't ! I have thought about it, and have asked myself that question. I have thought of it, and have spoken of it to him. But what can I do, when he says he does not wish to live without me? I said to him : " Let us be friends, but do not spoil your life ; do not bind your pure life to my unfortunate one ! '' But he does not wish for that. ANNA DMfTRiEvNA. No, not at prcscnt. . . . LISA. Persuade him to leave me, and I will agree. I love him for his own happiness and not for mine. Only help me ! Do not hate me ! Let us lovingly work together for his happiness ! ANNA DMITRIEVNA. Ycs, yes ! I have grown fond of you. \Kisses her. Lisa cries\ And yet, and yet it is dreadful ! If only he had loved you before you married . . . LISA. He says he did love me then, but did not wish to prevent a friend's happiness. ANNA DMiTRiEVNA. Ah, how hard it all is ! Still, we will love one another, and God will help us to find what we want. VICTOR \_entenng\ Mother, dear ! I have heard every- The Live Corpse 263 thing ! I expected this : you are fond of her, and all will be well ! LISA. I am sorry you heard. I should not have said it if . . . ANNA DMiTMEVNA. Still, nothing is settled. All I can say is, that if it were not for all these unfortunate cir- cumstances, I should have been glad. [Kisses her]. VICTOR. Only, please don't change ! Curtain. Scene 2 A plainly furnished room ; bed, table, sofa. Fidya alone. A knock at the door. A woman's voice outside. Why have you locked yourself iu, Theodore Vasllyevich ? F6dya ! Open . . . ! F^DYA [gets up and unlocks door] That's right ! Thank you for coming. It's dull, terribly dull ! MASHA. Why didn't you come to us ? Been drinking again ? Eh, eh ! And after you'd promised ! F^DYA. D'you know, I've no money I MASHA, And why have I taken it into my head to care for you ! p^DYA. Masha ! MASHA. Well, what about " Masha, Masha " .■' If you were really in love, you'd have got a divorce long ago. They themselves asked you to. You say you don't love her, but all the same you keep to her ! I see you don't wish . . . F^DVA. But you know why I don't wish ! mAsha. That's all rubbish. People say quite truly that you're an empty fellow. 264 The Live Corpse FEDVA. What can I say to you ? That your words hurt me, you know without being told ! MAS HA. Nothing hurts you ! F^DYA. You know that the one joy I have in life is your love. MASHA. My love — yes ; but yours doesn't exist. FEDYA. All right. I'm not going to assure you. Be- sides, what's the good } You know ! MASHA. Fedya ; why torment me .'' F^DYA. Which of us torments .'' MASHA [cries] You are unkind ! FiiDY^ [goes up and embraces her] Masha ! What's it all about ? Stop that. One must live, and not whine. It doesn't suit you at all, my lovely one ! MASHA. You do love me } FEDYA. Whom else could I love ? MASHA. Only me ? Well then, read what you have been writing. FEDYA. It will bore you. MASHA. It's you who wrote it, so it's sure to be good, f£dya. Well then listen. [Reads] " One day, late in autumn, my friend and I agreed to meet on the Murygin fields, where there was a close thicket with many young birds in it. The day was dull, warm, and quiet. The mist . . ." Enter two old gipsies, Mdsha's parents, Ivdn Makdrovick and Nastdsia Ivdnovna. nastasia [stepping up to her daughter] Here you are then, you damned runaway sheep ! [To Fedya] My re- spects to you, sir ! [To Mdsha] Is that how you treat us, eh.'' IVAN [to F^dya] It's wrong, sir, what you're doing! You're ruining the wench ! Oh, but it's wrong . . , You're doing a dirty deed. NASTASIA. Put on your shawl ! March at once ! . . . Running away like this ! What can I say to the choir ? The Live Corpse 265 Gallivanting with a beggar — what can you get out of him? MASHA. I don't gallivant ! I love this gentleman^ that's all. I've not left the choir. I'll go on singing, and what . . . ^ IVAN. Say another word, and I'll pull the hair oiF your head! . . . Slut! . . . Who behaves like that? Not your father, nor your mother, nor your aunt ! . . . It's bad, sir ! We were fond of you — often and often we sang to you without pay. We pitied you, and what have you done? NASTASiA. You've mined our daughter for nothing . , . our own, our only daughter, the light of our eyes, our priceless jewel — you've trodden her into the mire, that's what you've done ! You've no conscience. F^DYA. Nast&sia Iv&novna, you suspect me falsely. Your daughter is like a sister to me. I care for her honour. You must think no evil . . . but I love her ! What is one to do ? IVAN. But you didn't love her when you had money ! If you'd then subscribed ten thousand roubles or so to the choir, you might have had her honourably. But now you've squandered everything, and carry her ofiF by stealth ! It's a shame, sir, a shame ! MASH A. He has not carried me off! I came to him myself, and if you take me away now, I shall come back again. I love him, and there's an end of it ! My love is stronger than all your locks ... I won't ! NASTASIA. Come, Misha dearest I Come, my own ! Don't sulk. You've done wrong, and now come along. IVAN. Now then, you've talked enough ! March ! [Seizes her hand] Excuse us, sir ! [Exit the three gipsies]. Enter Prince Abrdz/cov. PRINCE ABREiZKOV. Excusc mc. I havc been an unwill- ing witness of an unpleasant scene. . . . 266 The Live Corpse F^DYA. Whom have I the honour ? . . . [Recognises the Prince] Ah, Prince Abrezkov ! [Tkey shake hands]. PRINCE ABREZKOV. An Unwilling witness of an unpleas- ant scene. I should have been glad not to hear, but having overheard it, I consider it my duty to tell you so. I was directed here, and had to wait at the door for those people to come out — more particularly as their very loud voices rendered my knocking inaudible. Fi;DYA. Yes, yes — please take a seat. Thank you for teUing me : it gives me the right to explain that scene to you. I don't mind what you may think of me, but I should like to tell you that the reproaches you heard addressed to that girl, that gipsy singer, were unjust. That girl is as morally pure as a dove ; and my relations with her are those of a friend. There may be a tinge of romance in them, but it does not destroy the purity — the honour — of the girl. That is what I wished to teU you ; but what is it you want of me ? In what way can I be of service .'' PRINCE ABREZKOV. In the iirst place, I . . . FEDYA. Forgive me. Prince. My present social stand- ing is such, that my former slight acquaintance with you does not entitle me to a visit from you, unless you have some business with me. What is it ? PRINCE ABREZKOV. I won't deny it. You have guessed right. I have business with you ; but I beg you to believe that the alteration in your position in no wise affects my attitude towards you. FEDYA. I am sure of it. PRINCE ABREZKOV. My busincss is this. The son of my old friend, Anna Dmitrievna Karenina, and she herself, have asked me to ascertain directly from you what are your relations . . . May I speak out? . . . your rela- tions with your wife, Elisabeth Andreyevna Prot^sova. F^DYA. My relations vrith my wife, or rather with her who was my wife, are entirely at an end. The Live Corpse 267 PRINCE ABREZKov. So I Understood, and that is why I accepted this difficult mission. F^DYA. At an end, and, I hasten to add, not by her fault, but by mine — by my innumerable faults. She is, as she always was, quite irreproachable. PRINCE ABREZKOV. Well then, Victor Karenin, or rather his mother, asked me to find out what your inten- tions are. FEDYA [growing excited] What intentions ? I have none. I set her quite free ! Moreover, I will never disturb her peace. I know she loves Victor Karenin. Well, let her ! I consider him a very dull, but very good and honourable man, and I think that she will, as the phrase goes, be happy with him ; and — que le bon Dieu les hinisse ! ^ That's all. . . PRINCE ABREZKOV. YcS, but WC . . . FEDYA [interrupting] And don't suppose that I feel the least bit jealous. If I said that Victor is dull, I withdraw the remark. He is an excellent, honourable, moral man : almost the direct opposite of myself. And he has loved her from childhood. Perhaps she too may have loved him when she married me — that happens sometimes ! The very best love is unconscious love. I believe she always did love him ; but as an honest woman she did not confess it even to herself. But ... a shadow of some kind always lay across our family life — but why am I confessing to you ? PRINCE ABREZKOV. Plcase do ! Believe me, my chief reason for coming to you was my desire to understand the situation fully. ... I understand you. I under- stand that the shadow, as you so weU express it, may have been . . . F^DYA. Yes, it was ; and that perhaps is why I could not find satisfaction in the family life she provided for me, but was always seeking something, and being carried ' May God bless them I 268 The Live Corpse away. However, that sounds like excusing myself. I don't want to, and can't, excuse myself. I was (I say with assurance, mas) a bad husband. I say was, because in my consciousness I am not, and have long not been, her husband. I consider her perfectly free. So there you have my answer to your question. PRINCE ABREZKov. Ycs, but you know Victor's family, and himself too. His relation to Elisabeth Andreyevna is, and has been all through, most respectful and distant. He assisted her when she was in trouble . . . FEDYA. Yes, I by my dissipation helped to draw them together. What's to be done .'' It had to be so ! PRINCE ABREZKOV. You know the strictly Orthodox con- victions of that family. Having myself a broader outlook on things, I do not share them ; but I respect and under- stand them. I understand that for him, and especially for his mother, union with a woman without a Church marriage is unthinkable. FEDYA. Yes, I know his stu ... his strictness, his conservatism in these matters. But what do they want ? A divorce ? I told them long ago that I am quite willing ; but the business of taking the blame on myself, and all the lies connected with it, are very trying. . , ?■ PRINCE ABREZKOV. I quitc Understand you, and sympa- thise. But how can it be avoided } I think it might be arranged that way — but you are right. It is dreadful, and I quite understand you. FEDYA [pressing the Princes hand] Thank you, dear Prince ! I always knew you were a kind and honourable man. Tell me what to do. How am I to act.-" Put yourself in my place. I am not trying to improve. I am a good-for-nothing ; but there are things I cannot do quietly. I cannot quietly tell lies. ' Under the Eussian law divorce was only obtainable if ocular evidence of adultery was forthcoming, and a great deal of perjury was usually involved in such cases. The Live Corpse 269 PRINCE ABREZKOV. I don't Understand you! You, a capable, intelligent man, so sensitive to what is good — how can you let yourself be so carried away — so forget what you expect of yourself? How have you ruined your life and come to this ? FEDYA [forcing back tears of emotion] I have led this disorderly life for ten years, and this is the first time a man like you has pitied me ! I have been pitied by my boon-companions, by rakes and by women ; but a reason- able, good man like you . . . Thank you ! How did I come to my ruin ? First, through drink. It is not that drink tastes nice ; but do what I will, I always feel I am not doing the right thing, and I feel ashamed. I talk to you now, and feel ashamed. As for being a Marechal de la noblesse, or a Bank Director — I should feel ashamed, so ashamed ! It is only when I drink that I do not feel this shame. And music : not operas or Beethoven, but gipsies ! . . . That is life ! Energy flows into one's veins! And then those dear black eyes, and those smiles ! And the more delicious it is, the more ashamed one feels afterwards. PRINCE ABREZKOV. How about work .'' F^DYA. I have tried it, but it's no good. I am always dissatisfied with it — but what's the use of talking about myself I thank you. PRINCE ABREZKOV. Then what am I to say ? FJ^DYA. Tell them I will do what they wish. They want to get married, and that there should be no obstacle to their marriage .? PRINCE ABREZKOV. Of COUrSe. FEDYA. I'll do it! Tell them I will certainly do it. PRINCE ABREZKOV. But when ? FEDYA. Wait a bit. Well, say in a fortnight. Will that do ? PRINCE ABREZKOV. Then I may tell them so ? 270 The Live Corpse PEDYA. You may. Good-bye, Prince ! Thank you once again ! [Eicit Prince]. F^DYA [sitsjbr a long time and smiles silenthf] That's the way, that's the way ! It must be so, must be, must be ! Splendid ! Curtain. ACT IV Scene 1 A private room in a restaurant. A waiter shows in Fedya and Ivdn Petr&vich Alexandrov. WAITER. Here, please. No one will disturb you here. I'll bring some paper directly. IVAN petr6vich. ProtAsov, I'll come in too. F^DYA [seri