A 66234 3
DUPL
TOUSTO
PLAYS
891.78
T65
t M45
1904

:
ARTES
LIBRARY
1817
SCIENTIA
VERITAS
OF THE
1
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
EXC PLURIOUS UNUM
TCEBOR
SI-QUÆRIS-PENINSULAM AMŒNAM
CIRCUMSPICE
THE GIFT OF
Prof. F. N. Scott.
:
i
1

M
THE REVISED EDITION OF
THE WORKS OF LEO TOLSTOY
EDITED BY AYLMER MAUDE
THE PLAYS
"
F. N. Scatt
From LEO TOLSTOY concerning
the translation of his works by
LOUISE and AYLMER MAUDE :
“Your translations are very good,
and I do not wish for better ones.

From the portrait by Ripin. 1887.
Art Repro C
Lea Talday,
Tolstoi, Lev Nikolaevich, graf
LEO TOLSTOY
PLAYS:
THE POWER OF DARKNESS
THE FIRST DISTILLER
FRUITS OF CULTURE
Translated by
Louise and AYLMER MAUDE
Um
WITH AN ANNOTATED LIST OF
TOLSTOY'S WORKS
NEW YORK
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY
ས
1904
Pro gt.
7. p. Leath
12-13-30
CONTENTS
PREFACE
PRONUNCIATION OF RUSSIAN NAMES.
THE POWER OF DARKNESS:
PAGE
vii
xii
Аст І
3
ACT II.
24
ACT III.
41
AcT IV .
61
VARIATION OF ACT IV
73
ACT V.
THE FIRST DISTILLER
THE IMP AND THE CRUST
FRUITS OF CULTURE:
82
97
121
Аст 1
ACT II.
ACT III.
AcT IV .
THE WORKS OF LEO TOLSTOY
ν
•
131
165
191
217
•
234
PREFACE
"WHAT am I to say by way of preface to the new translation
of your plays?" was a question that, when visiting Yásnaya
Polyána last summer, I put to Tolstoy.
I
"You may say that, speaking without any false modesty,
never, when writing them, anticipated the importance that has
been attributed to them. The Power of Darkness I wrote for the
People's Theatre, and the Fruits of Culture simply for my own
children and their friends to act at home."
"And what about The First Distiller?" queried I,-but
Tolstoy only waved his hand contemptuously, to shew that The
First Distiller was not worth talking about. I believe he wrote
it hoping it might replace some of the worthless or harmful
plays performed in the temporary booths that are run up at
Carnival time in some fields near his house in Moscow.
It has,
however, as far as I can learn, never yet been acted.
Between Tolstoy's two great plays, The Power of Darkness and
Fruits of Culture, the contrast is very striking.
The first is
intensely moral, terrible in its earnestness and force, but sombre
almost to the last degree. Tolstoy might well have been think-
ing of some of its scenes, when, in What is Art?, he declared
that:
Many things the production of which does not afford
pleasure to the producer, and the sensation received from
which is unpleasant, such as gloomy heart-rending scenes
in a play, may, nevertheless, be undoubted works of art.
Very different is Fruits of Culture: a play brimful of laughter
vii
viii
Preface
and merriment, and enough by itself to refute the accusation,
sometimes brought against Tolstoy, that he lacks humour.
In it Tolstoy goes the length of enlisting our sympathies for a
girl who, by false pretences, gets her good-natured master to
dispose of property to the advantage of her friends; and cer-
tainly the play was written, as Tolstoy assures us, to furnish
amusement. Even here, however, his sympathies and antipa-
thies (which are not haphazard, but have always a philosophic
support behind them) make themselves strongly felt. Disap-
proval of the useless and wasteful life of society,' sympathy
with the need of the peasant for land, and scorn for the sophis-
tries and mental confusions of the Spiritualists, stand out clearly
and strongly.
The attack on Spiritualism is quite in accord with Tolstoy's
deliberate and carefully formed opinion on that subject. The
Professor's speech in Act III, as the reader may notice, starts
by confusing the distinction between matter and spirit. This is
really the main point of the whole subject! Nothing but con-
fusion can result, Tolstoy maintains, from talking about Spirit-
ualism so long as we do not know what we mean by spirit, and
how to distinguish it from matter. "We who live after Kant
cannot get away from the distinction he indicated. Matter is
that which we can know through our five senses; but spirit
belongs to a different realm." "The starry heavens' belong to the
material world, and so do 'astral bodies' and 'ghosts,' if they exist
and can be perceived or investigated by our eyes, ears, or sense
of touch. The moral law within' belongs to the spirit-world,
and is distinguishable from matter by the very fact that it cannot
be investigated by means of our five senses.
So all the usual talk about Spiritualism starts with a confusion
of terms. If the Spiritualists know what they mean by matter
and spirit they should explain themselves; but to ask us to
'investigate' material phenomena and pretend it is spiritual, is
unreasonable. This fundamental muddle-headedness cannot be
Preface
ix
cured by any amount of 'investigation' however extraordinary
the occurrences perceived may be. The revelations must stand
on their own bottom: a message does not become 'Spiritual' by
being delivered from a pulpit, or carved in stone, or by coming
to us when we are in an abnormal physical condition, or by being
uttered by somebody' under control.'
Tolstoy does not mince words on the matter, but, in What is
Art?, roundly declares:
The Spiritualists, to convince you of the reality of their
apparitions, usually say, "You cannot judge: you must try
it, be present at several séances" (i.e. come and sit silent in
the dark for hours together in the same room with semi-
sane people, and repeat this some ten times over), “and
you shall see all that we see.”
Yes, naturally. Only place yourself in such conditions,
and you may see what you will. But this can still more
quickly be attained by getting drunk or smoking opium.
Nor would Tolstoy admit that man's moral and spiritual
welfare can be forwarded by ocular or aural demonstration
that after seventy years of this life and in this body, men are
to have (say) 70,000 years elsewhere of another life in another
body. Time and space, like all that pertains to the domain of
the five senses, have no part in the spirit world, the promptings
of which are very nigh unto you' here and now but cannot
be reached along lines of investigation which depend for their
validity on the infallibility of our five senses.
6
This is hardly the place to go more fully into the subject, but
before leaving it I should like to mention, in passing, that the
Professor's speech, as well as a few other passages in the play,
are more fully given in this volume than in the version hitherto
most current in this country; and I should like also to express
my belief that (rapidly as Spiritualism changes its fashions
and practices) Tolstoy's objection, going as it does to the root
of the matter, will deserve attention when the phraseology and
X
Preface
fashion of to-day's Spiritualism is as out of date as that of
mediæval astrology or alchemy, of seventeenth-century witch-
craft, or of the woman of Endor to whom Saul turned when
the Lord answered him not.
To their literary merit Tolstoy's plays add the quality of
being excellent acting dramas, as their success both in Russia
and elsewhere has abundantly shown. Mr. Laurence Irving
lately wrote: "I suppose England is the only country in
Europe where The Power of Darkness has not been acted. It
ought to be done. It is a stupendous tragedy; the effect on
the stage is unparalleled.”
The Power of Darkness is by far the most difficult of Tolstoy's
works to translate. He seems to have collected, and interwoven
in the dialogue, all kinds of pithy, peasant sayings: proverbs,
scraps of rhyme, and queer bits of slang. The naturalness and
vivid lifelikeness of the play cannot but suffer to some extent
when transferred to another language and presented to people
to whom customs and sayings which are everyday matters to
those who know the Russian peasantry, seem strange and,
therefore, divert attention from the feeling on which the
author is intent. In how far these difficulties have been over-
come in this edition, is hardly for me to decide. Any credit
due in the matter belongs to my wife, my own share in the
work having been merely that of a careful reviser.
Fruits of Culture was much easier to translate; and if to any
readers the gloom of The Power of Darkness seems too op
pressive, I advise them to try Fruits of Culture as an antidote.
It, too, has proved to be a most excellent acting play.
Tolstoy's plays were written in the years 1886-1889, so that
they belong to the later period of his activity. They come after
The Death of Iván Ilyitch, and just before The Kreutzer Sonata.
When he wrote them, Tolstoy had completed his study of the
Gospels, and was turning his attention to the moral problems
presented by the relations of the sexes.
Preface
xi
1
Tolstoy's plays are among those of his works which are allowed
in Russia, and we have used the Moscow editions of 1889, 1890,
and 1893 in making our translations.
The Plays naturally form a separate volume; but as by them-
selves they make a volume smaller than any other of the
twenty-nine of which this "Revised Edition" should consist, I
have taken the opportunity to add an annotated and chrono-
logical list of Tolstoy's works, which, I hope, will be of use
to readers and students of Tolstoy.
.
As to the rate of publication of this "Revised Edition," I
would say that the purpose of the edition precludes rapidity
of production, for it attempts the difficult task of presenting
versions faithful to the originals, yet rendered into English
as readable as though they were not translations. Each
sentence and almost each word has to be carefully weighed, and,
Tolstoy having written more than 3,000,000 words, the task
is one which, under the most favourable conditions, must occupy
a number of years, and cannot be completed by my wife and
myself alone.
We do not expect to produce more than, at
most, two volumes a year. We should, therefore, gladly wel-
come the co-operation of other translators really competent for
the task. But, for an edition of this kind, machine-made
versions would be worse than useless. Not merely knowledge of
Russian and command of English, and familiarity with Russian
customs and modes of thought and expression, are needed, but
also a sympathetic appreciation of Tolstoy's out-look on life.
Our thanks are due to Mrs. Maud Drover for help kindly
rendered in the preparation of the present volume. The foot-
notes are by the translators. Répin's portrait of Tolstoy (see
frontispiece) was painted in 1887. The illustration to The Power
of Darkness is from a photograph of a performance at a Moscow
theatre.
PRONUNCIATION OF
RUSSIAN NAMES
Attention to the following rules will assist readers in pro-
nouncing the names that occur in this book.
I. Lay stress on the syllable marked with an accent.
II. Names of more than one syllable not accentuated are
not Russian forms, and should be pronounced as in English
(French or German, etc.).
III. Vowel sounds are broad and open :
a as in father.
e as a in fate.
i as ee in meet.
o as in loch.
u as you.
Also in diphthongs the broad sounds are retained.
ou as oo in boot.
ya as in yard.
ye as in yes.
yo as in yore.
ay as eye.
ey as in they.
oy as in boy.
IV. y with a vowel forms a diphthong; y at the end of a
word, after a consonant, sounds something like ie in hygiene.
V. Consonants :
G is hard, as in go.
Zh is like z in azure.
R is sounded strongly, as in rough, barren.
S is sharp, as in seat, pass.
xii
THE POWER OF DARKNESS
OR
IF A CLAW IS CAUGHT THE BIRD IS LOST
A DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS
(1886)
A
CHARACTERS
PETER IGNÁTITCH. A well-to-do peasant, 42 years old, married
for the second time, and sickly.
ANÍSYA. His wife, 32 years old, fond of dress.
AKOULÍNA. Peter's daughter by his first marriage, 16 years old,
hard of hearing, mentally undeveloped.
NAN (ANNA PETRÓVNA). His daughter by his second marriage, 10
years old.
NIKÍTA. Their labourer, 25 years old, fond of dress.
Akím. Nikíta's father, 50 years old, a plain-looking, God-fearing
peasant.
MATRYÓNA. His wife and Nikita's mother, 50 years old.
MARÍNA. An orphan girl, 22 years old.
MARTHA. Peter's sister.
MÍTRITCH. An old labourer, ex-soldier.
SIMON. Marína's husband.
BRIDEGROOM. Engaged to Akoulína.
IVAN. His father.
A NEIGHBOUR.
FIRST GIRL.
SECOND GIRL.
POLICE OFFICER.
DRIVER.
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.
2
THE POWER OF DARKNESS
ACT I
The Act takes place in autumn in a large village. The
Scene represents Peter's roomy hut. Peter is sitting on a wooden
bench, mending a horse-collar. Anisya and Akoulína are
spinning, and singing a part-song.
PETER [looking 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?
[Listens. 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, Akoúl, drive 'em in.
AKOULÍNA. Who? The horses?
PETER. What else?
AKOULÍNA. All right. [Exit].
PETER. Ah, but he's a loafer, that lad
•
•
not at all
When you're
business-like. Won't stir a finger if he can help it.
ANÍSYA. You're so mighty brisk yourself.
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.
PETER. If one weren't to goad you a bit, one 'd have no
3
}
1
4
The Power of Darkness
roof left over one's head before the year's out. Oh what
people!
ANÍSYA. You go shoving a dozen jobs on to one's
shoulders, 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.
AKOULÍNA [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.
sack him, I would indeed.
I'd like to
ANÍSYA [mimicking him] "Like to sack him." You buckle
to yourself, and then talk.
AKOULÍNA [enters] It's all I could do to drive 'em in.
That piebald always will.
PETER. And where's Nikita?
AKOULÍNA. Where's Nikita? Why, standing out there
in the street.
PETER. What's he standing there for ?
AKOULÍNA. 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 ?
AKOULÍNA [does not hear] Eh, what?
Peter waves her off. She sits down to her spinning.
NAN [running in to her mother] Nikita's father and
mother have come. They're going to take him away.
S'help me!
ANÍSYA. Nonsense!
NAN. Yes. May I die! [Laughing] I was just going
by, and Nikíta, he says, “Good-bye, Anna Petróvna,” he
says, "you must come and dance at my wedding. I'm
leaving you," he says, and laughs.
ANÍSYA [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. Well, let him go. Just as if I couldn't find
another.
ANÍSYA. 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? Well, he can work it
off in summer, anyway.
ANÍSYA. Well, of course you'll be glad if he goes and
you've not got to feed him. It's only me as'll 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?
ANÍSYA. 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!
the oven same as you, and let everything go to pot!
You may do what you like.
I'll go and lie on the top of
PETER [to Akoulína] Go and see about the feeding,
will you? it's time.
AKOULÍNA. The feeding? All right. [Puts on a coat
and takes a rope].
ANÍSYA. 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!
ANÍSYA. 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. [Exit].
ANÍSYA [after him] Scurvy long-nosed devil!
AKOULÍNA. What are you swearing at dad for?
6
The Power of Darkness
ANÍSYA. Hold your noise, you idiot!
AKOULÍNA [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.
ANÍSYA. 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.
AKOULÍNA [opening the door] Bitch! devil! that's what
you are! Devil! bitch! bitch! devil! [Runs off].
ANÍSYA [ponders] "Come and dance at my wedding!"
What new plan is this? Marry? Mind, Nikíta, 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 Anísya 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.
ANÍSYA. Well, go and marry! What's that to me?
NIKÍTA. Is that it? Why, here am I reckoning how
best to consider matters, and just hear her! She tells
me to go and marry. Why's that? [Winking] Has she
forgotten?
ANÍSYA. Yes, go and marry! What do I care?
•
NIKITA. What are you spitting for? Just see, she won't
even let me stroke her. . . . What's the matter?
ANÍSYA. This! That you want to play me false.
If
you do,—why, I don't want you either. So now you know!
NIKITA. That'll do, Anísya. Do you think I'll forget
you? Never while I live! I'll not play you false, that's
flat. I've been thinking that supposing they do go and
make me marry, I'd still come back to you. If only he
don't make me live at home.
ANÍSYA. Much need I'll have of you, once you're married.
NIKITA. There's a go now. How is it possible to go
against one's father's will?

8
ANÍSYA AND NIKITA
To face page 6
The Power of Darkness
7
ANÍSYA. Yes, I daresay, shove it all on your father.
You know it's your own doing. You've long been plotting
with that slut of yours, Marína.
It's she has put you up
to it. She didn't come here for nothing t'other day.
NIKITA. Marína? What's she to me? Much I care
about her! . . . Plenty of them buzzing around.
ANÍSYA. Then what has made your father come here?
It's you have told him to. You've gone and deceived me.
[Cries].
NIKÍTA. Anísya, do you believe in a God or not? I
never so much as dreamt of it. I know nothing at all
about it. I never even dreamt of it—that's flat! My old
dad has got it all out of his own pate.
ANÍSYA. If you don't wish it yourself who can force you?
He can't drive you like an ass.
NIKITA. Well, I reckon it's not possible to go against
one's parent. But it's not by my wish.
Anísya. 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.
ANÍSYA. Shut up with your nonsense. Nikíta, listen to
me: if you marry that Marína I don't know what I won't
do to myself. . . . I shall lay hands on myself!
.. I have
sinned, I have gone against the law, but I can't go back
now. If you go away I'll .
Had I wanted to go-I
There was Iván Sem-
NIKITA. Why should I go?
should have gone long ago.
yónitch 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.
ANÍSYA. Yes, and that's what you should remember.
My old man will die one of these fine days, I'm thinking;
8
The Power of Darkness
then we could cover our sin, make it all right and lawful,
and then you'll be master here.
NIKITA. 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 not my fault, that's flat.
ANÍSYA. And you'll love me?
NIKITA [embracing her] There, as you have ever been
in my heart.
Playing with
Why shouldn't
But your master
MATRYÓNA [enters, and crosses herself a long time before the
icón. Nikita and Anisya step apart] What I saw I didn't
perceive, what I heard I didn't hearken to.
the lass, eh? Well,-even a calf will play.
one have some fun when one's young?
is out in the yard a-calling you, sonnie.
NIKITA. I only came to get the axe.
MATRYÓNA. 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.
MATRYÓNA. 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.
NIKITA. It's a queer go! One moment I'm to be married,
the next, not. I can't make head or tail of it.
[Exit].
ANÍSYA. What's it all about then? Do you really wish
him to get married?
(C
my jewel? It's
Marry, marry."
You know the
MATRYÓNA. Eh, why should he marry,
all nonsense, all my old man's drivel.
But he's reckoning without his host.
saying, "From oats and hay, why should horses stray?"
When you've enough and to spare, why look elsewhere?
And so in this case. [Winks] Don't I see which way the
wind blows?
ANÍSYA. Where's the good of my pretending to you,
The Power of Darkness
9
Mother Matryóna?
You know all about it. I have
sinned. I love your son.
MATRYÓNA. Dear me, here's news! D'you think Mother
Matryóna didn't know? Eh, lassie,-Mother Matryóna's
been ground, and ground again, ground fine! This much
I can tell you, my jewel: Mother Matryóna can see
through a brick wall three feet thick. I know it all, my
jewel! I know what young wives need sleeping draughts
for, so I've brought some along. [Unties a knot in her
handkerchief and brings out paper-packets] As much as is
wanted, I see, and what's not wanted I neither see nor
perceive! There! Mother Matryóna has also been young.
I had to know a thing or two to live with my old fool. I
know seventy-and-seven dodges. But I see your old
man's quite seedy, quite seedy! How's one to live with
such as him? Why, if you pricked him with a hay-fork
it wouldn't fetch blood. See if you don't bury him before
the spring. Then you'll need some one in the house.
Well, what's wrong with my son? He'll do as well as
another. Then where's the advantage of my taking him
away from a good place? Am I my child's enemy?
ANÍSYA. Oh, if only he does not go away.
MATRYÓNA. He won't go away, birdie.
sense. You know my old man.
wool-gathering; yet sometimes he takes a thing into his
pate, and it's as if it were wedged in, you can't knock
it out with a hammer.
It's all non-
His wits are always
ANÍSYA. And what has this affair sprung from?
MATRYÓNA. Well, you see, my jewel, you yourself know
what a fellow with women the lad is,—and he's handsome
too, though I say it. Well, you know, he was living at
the railway, and they had an orphan wench there to cook
for them. Well, that same wench took to running after
him.
ANÍSYA. Marína ?
MATRYÓNA. Yes, the plague seize her! Whether any-
ΙΟ
The Power of Darkness
thing happened or not, anyhow something got to my old
man's ears. Maybe he heard from the neighbours, maybe
she's been and blabbed . . .
ANÍSYA. Well, she is a bold hussy!
MATRYÓNA. So my old man-the old blockhead-off he
goes: Marry, marry," he says, "he must marry her and
cover the sin,” he says. "We must take the lad home,'
he says, "and he shall marry," he says. Well, I did my
best to make him change his mind, but, dear me, no.
So, all right, thinks I,-I'll try another dodge. One always
has to entice them fools in this way, just pretend to be
of their mind, and when it comes to the point one goes
and turns it all one's own way. You know, a woman has
time to think seventy-and-seven thoughts while falling
off the oven, so how's such as he to see through it?
"Well, yes," says I, "it would be a good job,-only we
must consider well beforehand. Why not go and see our
son, and talk it over with Peter Ignátitch and hear what
he has to say?" So here we are.
ANÍSYA. Oh dear, oh dear, how will it all end? Sup-
posing his father just orders him to marry her?
MATRYÓNA. Orders, indeed. Chuck his orders to the
dogs! Don't you worry; that affair will never come off.
I'll go to your old man myself, and sift and strain this
matter clear-there will be none of it left. I have come
here only for the look of the thing. A very likely thing!
Here's my son living in happiness and expecting happi-
ness, and I'll go and match him with a slut! No fear
I'm not a fool!
ANÍSYA. And she-this Marína-came dangling after him
here! Mother, would you believe, when they said he was
going to marry, it was as if a knife had gone right through
my heart.
I thought he cared for her.
MATRYÓNA. Oh, my jewel! Why, you don't think him
such a fool, that he should go and care for a homeless bag-
gage like that?
Nikíta is a sensible fellow, you see. He
The Power of Darkness
ΙΙ
knows whom to love.
jewel. We'll not take
him. No, we'll let him
with a little money.
So don't you go and fret, my
him away, and we won't marry
stay on, if you'll only oblige us
ANÍSYA. All I know is, that I could not live if Nikita
went away.
MATRYÓNA. Naturally, when one's young it's no easy
matter! You, a wench in full bloom, to be living with the
dregs of a man like that husband of yours.
ANÍSYA. Mother Matryóna, would you believe it? I'm
that sick of him, that sick of this long-nosed cur of mine,
I can hardly bear to look at him.
MATRYÓNA. Yes, I see, it's one of them cases. Just
look here, [looks round and whispers] I've been to see that
old man, you know-he's given me simples of two kinds.
This, you see, is a sleeping draught. "Just give him one
of these powders," he says, "and he'll sleep so sound you
might jump on him!" And this here, "This is that kind
of simple," he says, "that if you give one some of it to
drink it has no smell whatever, but its strength is very
great. There are seven doses here, a pinch at a time.
Give him seven pinches," he says, "and she won't have
far to look for freedom," he says.
ANÍSYA. O-o-oh! What's that?
Be-
MATRYóna. “No sign whatever," he says. He's taken
a rouble for it. "Can't sell it for less," he says.
cause it's no easy matter to get 'em, you know. I
paid him, dearie, out of my own money. If she takes
them, thinks I, it's all right; if she don't, I can let old
Michael's daughter have them.
ANÍSYA. O-o-oh! But mayn't some evil come of them?
I'm afraid!
MATRYÓNA. What evil, my jewel? If your old man was
hale and hearty, 'twould be a different matter, but he's
neither alive nor dead as it is. He's not for this world.
Such things often happen.
I 2
The Power of Darkness
ANÍSYA. O-o-oh, my poor head! I'm afeared, Mother
Matryóna, lest some evil come of them. No. That
won't do.
MATRYÓNA. Just as you like. I might even return
them to him.
ANÍSYA. And are they to be used in the same way as
the others? Mixed in water?
MATRYÓNA. Better in tea, he says. "You can't notice
anything," he says, "no smell nor nothing." He's a cute
old fellow too.
ANÍSYA [taking the powder] O-oh, my poor head! Could
I have ever thought of such a thing if my life were not a
very hell?
MATRYÓNA. You'll not forget that rouble? I promised
to take it to the old man. He's had some trouble, too.
ANÍSYA. Of course? [Goes to her box and hides the
powders].
MATRYÓNA. And now, my jewel, keep it as close as you
can, so that no one should find it out. Heaven defend
that it should happen, but if any one notices it, tell 'em
it's for the black-beetles. [Takes the rouble] It's also
used for beetles. [Stops short].
Enter Akim, who crosses himself in front of the icón, and
then Peter, who sits down.
PETER. Well then, how's it to be, Daddy Akím?
AKÍM. As it's best, Peter Ignátitch, as it's best .
I mean as it's best.
as it's best. 'Cos why? I'm afeard of what
d'you call 'ems, some tomfoolery, you know. I'd like
to, what d'you call it . . . to start, you know, start
the lad honest, I mean. But supposing you'd rather,
what d'you call it, we might, I mean, what's name? As
it's best.
PETER. All right. All right. Sit down and let's talk it
over. [Akim sits down] Well then, what's it all about?
You want him to marry?
MATRYÓNA. As to marrying, he might bide a while,
The Power of Darkness
13
Peter Ignátitch. You know our poverty, Peter Ignátitch.
What's he to marry on? We've hardly enough to eat
ourselves. How can he marry then?
PETER. You must consider what will be best.
MATRYÓNA. 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.
•
AKÍM. 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.
MATRYÓNA. And a fine job too-cleaning out cesspools.
The other day when he came home, I could do nothing
but spew and spew. Faugh!
•
•
AKím. 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,
payin', payin', 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 name
.. Nikíta 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?
AKÍM. That's it, that's it! It's just as you say, Ignátitch,
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
MATRYÓNA. Ah, but it's not yet settled between our-
selves, Peter Ignátitch. I'll speak to you as I would
before God, and you may judge between my old man and
He goes on harping on that marriage. But just
ask—whom it is he wants him to marry. If it were a girl
of the right sort now— I am not my child's enemy, but
me.
the wench is not honest.
AKÍM. No, that's wrong! Wrong, I say. 'Cos why?
She, that same girl-it's my son as has offended, offended
the girl I mean.
PETER. How offended ?
AKÍM. That's how. She's what d'you call it, with him,
with my son, Nikíta. With Nikita, what d'you call it, I
mean.
.
MATRYÓNA. 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 Marína. She used to cook for the men. So
now this same girl accuses our son, Nikita, that he, so to
say, deceived her.
PETER. Well, there's nothing good in that.
MATRYÓNA. But she's no honest girl herself; she runs
after the fellows like a common slut.
AKÍM. There you 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
MATRYÓNA. 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
Ignátitch, 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-for-nothing.
PETER. You know, Daddy Akím, if that's how things
are, there's no reason for him to marry her. A daughter-
in-law's not like a shoe, you can't kick her off.
The Power of Darkness
15
AKÍM [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 good lass, a very good lass, you know. I'm
sorry, sorry for the lassie, I mean.
MATRYÓNA. It's an old saying: "For the wide world
old Miriam grieves, and at home without bread her
children she leaves." He's sorry for the girl, but not
sorry for his own son!
carry her about with you!
cackle!
Sling her round your neck and
That's enough of such empty
AKÍM. No, it's not empty.
MATRYÓNA. There, don't interrupt, let me have my say.
AKÍM [interrupts] No, not empty! I mean, you twist
things your own way, about the lass or about yourself.
Twist them, I mean, to make it better for yourself; but
God, what d'you call it, turns them His way. That's how
it is.
MATRYÓNA. Eh! One only wears out one's tongue with
you.
AKÍM. 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
thing's the offence, the offence to the lass, and she's a what
d'you call it, an orphan, you know; that's what she is,
and there's the offence.
MATRYÓNA. Eh! they'll all tell you a tale of that sort . . .
ANÍSYA. Daddy Akím, you'd better listen to us women;
we can tell you a thing or two.
akím. And God, how about God? Isn't she a human
being, the lass? A what d'you call it,—also a human being
I mean, before God. And how do you look at it?
MATRYÓNA. Eh! . . . started off again?
. . . . .
PETER. Wait a bit, Daddy Akím. 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.
16
The Power of Darkness
He won't wish to lose his soul. Go and call the fellow,
[Anísya rises] and tell him his father wants him. [Exit
Anísya].
MATRYÓNA. 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 first of all ask the lad. 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 you as his master.
And 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.
before we start another.
First let us settle one thing
AKÍM. You see, Peter Ignátitch, 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 course one must not forget God.
AKÍM. It turns out worse! But when it's the right
way-God's way-it what d'you call it, it gives one joy;
seems pleasant, I mean. So I reckon, you see, get him,
the lad, I mean, get him to marry her, to keep him from
sin, I mean, and let him what d'you call it at home,
as it's lawful, I mean, while I go and get the job in town.
The work is of the right sort-it's payin', I mean. And
in God's sight it's what d'you call it—it's best, I mean.
Ain't she an orphan? Here, for example, a year ago
some fellows went and took timber from the steward,-
thought they'd do the steward, you know. Yes, they
did the steward, but they couldn't what d'you call it
-do God, I mean. Well, and so
The Power of Darkness
17
Enter Nikita and Nan.
NIKITA. You called me ?
tobacco-pouch].
[Sits down and takes out his
PETER [in a low, reproachful voice] What are you think-
ing about-have you no manners? Your father is going
to speak to you, and you sit down and fool about with
tobacco. Come, get up!
Nikita rises, leans carelessly with his elbow on the table, and
smiles.
AKÍM. It seems there's a complaint, you know, about
you, Nikíta—a complaint, I mean, a complaint.
NIKITA. Who's been complaining?
AKÍM. Complaining? It's a maid, an orphan maid, com-
plaining, I mean. It's her, you know-a complaint against
you, from Marína, I mean.
NIKITA [laughs] Well, that's a good one. What's the
complaint? And who's told you-she herself?
AKÍM. It's I am asking you, and you must now, what
d'you call it, give me an answer. Have you got messed
up with the lass, I mean-messed up, you know?
What's up?
NIKITA. I don't know what you mean.
AKÍM. Foolin', I mean, what d'you call it? foolin'.
Have you been foolin' with her, I mean?
NIKITA. Never mind what's been! Of course one does
have some fun with a cook now and then to while away
the time. One plays the concertina and gets her to
dance. What of that?
PETER. Don't shuffle, Nikita, but answer your father
straight out.
AKÍM [solemnly] You can hide it from men but not
from God, Nikita. You, what d'you call it-think, I
mean, and don't tell lies. She's an orphan; so, you see,
any one is free to insult her. An orphan, you see. So
you should say what's rightest.
NIKITA. But what if I have nothing to say? I have
told you everything-because there isn't anything to tell,
B
I 8
The Power of Darkness
that's flat! [Getting excited] She can go and say anything
about me, same as if she was speaking of one as is dead.
Why don't she say anything about Fédka Mikishin? Be-
sides, how's this, that one mayn't even have a bit of fun
nowadays? And as for her, well, she's free to say any-
thing she likes.
AKÍM. Ah, Nikíta, mind! A lie will out. Did anything
happen?
NIKITA [aside] How he sticks to it; it's too bad. [To
Akim] I tell you, I know nothing more. There's been
nothing between us. [Angrily] By God! and may I never
leave this spot [crosses himself] if I know anything about
it. [Silence. Then still more excitedly] Why have you
been thinking of getting me to marry her?
you mean by it?-it's a confounded shame.
nowadays you've got no such rights as to force a fellow to
marry. That's plain enough. Besides, haven't I sworn I
know nothing about it?
What do
Besides,
MATRYÓNA [to her husband] There now, that's just like
your silly pate, to believe all they tell you.
He's gone
and put the lad to shame all for nothing. The best thing
is to let him live as he is living, with his master. His
master will help us in our present need, and give us ten
roubles, and when the time comes
•
PETER. Well, Daddy Akím, how's it to be?
AKÍM [looks at his son, clicking his tongue disapprovingly]
Mind, Nikita, the tears of one that's been wronged
never, what d'you call it never fall beside the mark but
always on, what's name--the head of the man as did the
wrong. So mind, don't what d'you call it.
NIKITA [sits down] What's there to mind? mind your-
self.
NAN [aside] I must run and tell mother. [Exit].
MATRYÓNA [to Peter] That's always the way with this
old mumbler of mine, Peter Ignátitch. Once he's got
anything wedged in his pate there's no knocking it out.
The Power of Darkness
19
We've gone and troubled you all for nothing. The lad
can go on living as he has been. Keep him; he's your
servant.
PETER. Well, Daddy Akím, what do you say ?
AKÍM. Why, the lad's his own master, if only he what
d'you call it. . . . I only wish that, what d'you call it, I
mean.
MATRYÓNA. You don't know yourself what you're jawing
about. The lad himself has no wish to leave. Besides,
what do we want with him at home? We can manage
without him.
PETER. Only one thing, Daddy Akím—if you are think-
ing of taking him back in summer, I don't want him here
for the winter. If he is to stay at all, it must be for the
whole year.
If
MATRYÓNA. And it's for a year he'll bind himself.
we want help when the stress of work comes, we can hire
help, and the lad shall remain with you. Only give us
ten roubles now. .
PETER. Well then, is it to be for another year?
if
AKÍM [sighing] Yes, it seems, it what d'you call it .
it's so, I mean, it seems that it must be what d'you
call it.
MATRYÓNA. For a year, counting from St. Dimítry's
day. We know you'll pay him fair wages.
But give us
ten roubles now. Help us out of our difficulties. [Gets
up and bows to Peter].
Enter Nan and Anisya. The latter sits down at one side.
PETER. Well, if that's settled we might step across to
the inn and have a drink. Come, Daddy Akím, what do
you say to a glass of vódka ?
AKÍM. No, I never drink that sort of thing.
PETER. Well, you'll have some tea?
AKÍм. Ah, tea! yes, I 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 you, Nikíta, go and drive the sheep 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 have a good lot of wives! And what need
have I to marry? Am as good as married now! There's
many a chap as envies me. Yet how strange it felt when
I crossed myself before the icón. It was just as if
some one shoved me. The whole web fell to pieces at
once. They say it's frightening to swear what's not
true. That's all humbug. It's all talk, that is. It's
plain enough.
AKOULÍNA [enters with a rope, which she puts down. She
takes off her outdoor 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.
AKOULÍNA. Oh, bother you!
Nan enters and whispers to Nikita.
NAN. Nikíta, there's a person wants you. S'elp me!
NIKITA. What person?
NAN. Marína from the railway; she's out there, round
the corner.
NIKITA. Nonsense!
NAN. May I die!
NIKITA. What does she want?
NAN. She wants you to come out. She says, "I only
want to say a word to Nikíta." I began asking, but she
won't tell, but only says, "Is it true he's leaving you?"
And I say, "No, only his father wanted to take him away
and get him to marry, but he won't, and is going to stay
with us another year." And she says, "For goodness'
sake send him out to me. I must see him," she says, "I
The Power of Darkness
2 I
Į
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. May I die," she said, "I'll come in.”
NIKITA. Not likely. She'll wait a bit and then go
away.
NAN. "Or is it," she says, "that they want him to marry
Akoulína?"
Re-enter Akoulína, passing near Nikita to take her distaff.
AKOULÍNA. Marry whom to Akoulína?
NAN. Why, Nikíta.
AKOULÍNA. A likely story. Who says it?
NIKITA [looks at her and laughs] It seems people do say it.
Would you marry me, Akoulína ?
AKOULÍNA. Who, you? Perhaps I might have afore,
but I won't now.
NIKITA. And why not now?
AKOULÍNA. 'Cos you wouldn't love me.
NIKITA. Why not?
AKOULÍNA. 'Cos you'd be forbidden to. [Laughs].
NIKITA. Who'd forbid it?
AKOULÍNA. Who? My step-mother. She does nothing.
but grumble, and is always staring at you.
NIKITA [laughing] Just hear her! Ain't she cute?
AKOULÍNA. 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 window] Look, Nikíta, she's com-
ing! S'elp me, it's she! I'll go away. [Exit].
MARÍNA [enters] What are you doing with me?
NIKITA. Doing? I'm not doing anything.
MARÍNA. You meant to desert me.
NIKÍTA [gets up angrily] What does this look like, your
coming here?
MARÍNA. Oh, Nikíta !
22
The Power of Darkness
NIKITA. Well, you are strange! What have you come for?
MARÍNA. Nikita!
NIKITA. That's my name.
What do you want with
Nikita? Well, what next? Go away, I tell you!
You
MARÍNA. I see, you do want to throw me over.
NIKITA. Well, and what's there to remember?
yourself don't know. When you stood out there round
the corner and sent Nan for me, and I didn't come,
wasn't it plain enough that you're not wanted? It seems
pretty simple. So there
go!
I
MARÍNA. Not wanted! So now I'm not wanted!
believed you when you said you would love me. And
now that you've ruined me, I'm not wanted.
NIKITA. Where's the good of talking? This is quite
improper. You've been telling tales to father. Now, do
go away, will you?
MARÍNA. You know yourself I never loved any one but
you. Whether you married me or not, I'd not have been
angry. I've done you no wrong, then why have you
left off caring for me? Why?
NIKÍTA. Where's the use of baying at the moon? You
Goodness me! what a duffer!
go away.
MARÍNA. It's not that you deceived me when you pro-
mised to marry me that hurts, but that you've left off loving.
No, it's not that you've stopped loving me either, but
that you've 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.
MARÍNA. 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 ?
I
The Power of Darkness
23
What has been has
Well then, Nikita,
MARÍNA. So this is the end of it!
the end of it!
flown. You want me to forget it?
listen. I kept my maiden honour as the apple of my eye.
You have ruined me for nothing, you have deceived me.
You have no pity on a fatherless and motherless girl!
[Weeping] You have deserted, you have killed me, but I
bear you no malice. God forgive you! If you find a
better one you'll forget me, if a worse one you'll
remember me. Yes, you will remember, Nikita! Good-
bye, then, if it 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.
MARÍNA [screams] You are a brute. [In the doorway]
God will give you no joy. [Exit, crying].
AKOULÍNA [comes out of closet] You're a dog, Nikíta !
NIKITA. What's up?
AKOULÍNA. What a cry she gave! [Cries].
NIKITA. What's up with you?
AKOULÍNA. What's up? You've hurt her so.
That's
the way you'll hurt me also.
You're a dog. [Exit into
closet].
Silence.
NIKITA. Here's a fine muddle.
on the lasses, but when a fellow's sinned with 'em it's a
I'm as sweet as honey
bad look-out!
Curtain.
ACT II
The scene represents the village street.
outside of Peter's hut, built of logs, with
middle; to the right
of the yard buildings.
To the left the
a porch in the
of the hut the gates and a corner
Anísya is beating hemp in the street
near the corner of the yard. Six months have elapsed since
the First Act.
ANÍSYA [stops and listens] Mumbling something again.
He's probably got off the stove.
Akoulína enters, carrying two pails on a yoke.
ANÍSYA. He's calling. You go and see what he wants,
kicking up such a row.
AKOULÍNA. Why don't you go?
ANÍSYA. Go, I tell you! [Exit Akoulína into hut] He's
bothering me to death.
Won't let out where the money
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 Akoulína, tying her kerchief over her head.
ANÍSYA. Where are you off to?
AKOULÍNA. Where? Why, he's told me to go for Aunt
Martha. "Fetch my sister," he says. "I am going to
die," he says. I have a word to say to her."
ANÍSYA [aside] Asking for his sister? Oh my poor head!
24
The Power of Darkness
25
Sure he wants to give it her. What shall I do? Oh!
[To Akoulína] Don't go! Where are you off to?
AKOULÍNA. To call Aunt.
ANÍSYA. Don't go I tell you, I'll go myself.
and take the clothes to the river to rinse.
have finished by the evening.
AKOULÍNA. But he told me to go.
ANÍSYA. You go and do as you're bid.
You go
Else you'll not
I tell
I tell you I'll
fetch Martha myself. Take the shirts off the fence.
AKOULÍNA. The shirts? But maybe you'll not go. He's
given the order.
ANÍSYA. Didn't I say I'd go? Where's Nan?
AKOULÍNA. Nan? Minding the calves.
ANÍSYA. Send her here. I dare say they'll not run away.
[Akoulína collects the clothes, and exit].
ANÍSYA. 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 Matryóna, with a stick and a bundle, in outdoor
clothes.
MATRYÓNA. May the Lord help you, honey.
ANÍSYA [looks round, stops working, and claps her hands with
joy] Well, I never expected this! Mother Matryóna, God
has sent the right guest at the right time.
MATRYÓNA. Well, how are things?
ANÍSYA. Ah, I'm driven well-nigh crazy. It's awful!
MATRYÓNA. Well, still alive, I hear?
ANÍSYA. Oh, don't talk about it. He doesn't live and
doesn't die !
MATRYÓNA. But the money-has he given it to anybody?
ANÍSYA. He's just sending for his sister Martha-pro-
bably about the money.
MATRYÓNA. Well, naturally! But hasn't he given it to
any one else?
ANÍSYA. To no one. I watch like a hawk.
26
The Power of Darkness
MATRYÓNA. And where is it?
And I can't find out in
ANÍSYA. He doesn't let out.
any way. He hides it now here, now there, and I can't
do anything because of Akoulína. Idiot though she is,
she keeps watch, and is always about. Oh my poor head!
I'm bothered to death.
MATRYÓNA. 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 of house and home without
anything. You've been worriting, and worriting all your
life with one you don't love, and will have to go a-begging
when you are a widow.
ANÍSYA. 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.
MATRYóna. Well, and did you look there?
ANÍSYA. 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.
MATRYÓNA. 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 the
strong tea?
ANÍSYA. Oh! oh! . . . [About to answer, but sees neighbour
and stops].
The neighbour (a woman) passes the hut, and listens to a
call from within.
NEIGHBOUR [to Anisya] I say, Anísya! Eh, Anísya!
There's your old man calling, I think.
ANÍSYA. That's the way he always coughs,—just as if he
were screaming. He's getting very bad.
NEIGHBOUR [approaches Matryóna] How do you do,
granny? Have you come far?
MATRYÓNA. 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 Anísya] And I was
thinking of beginning to bleach the linen, but it is a bit
early, no one has begun yet.
ANÍSYA. Where's the hurry?
MATRYÓNA. Well, and has he had communion?
ANÍSYA. 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 icóns. They started
lamenting and got ready to lay him out.
ANÍSYA. He came to, and creeps about again.
MATRYÓNA. Well, and is he to have extreme unction?
ANÍSYA. The neighbours advise it. If he lives till to-
morrow we'll send for the priest.
NEIGHBOUR. Oh, Anísya 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.”
ANÍSYA. Yes, if it were only over one way or other!
NEIGHBOUR. Yes, that's true, dying for a year, it's no
joke. You're bound hand and foot like that.
MATRYÓNA. Ah, but a widow's lot is also bitter.
right as long as one's young, but who'll care for
you're old? Oh yes, old age is not pleasure.
at me.
It's all
you when
Just look
I've not walked very far, and yet am so footsore I
don't know how to stand. Where's my son?
ANÍSYA. Ploughing. But you come in and we'll get the
samovár ready; the tea'll set you up again.
MATRYÓNA [silling down] Yes, it's true, I'm quite done up,
my dears. As to extreme unction, that's absolutely neces-
sary. Besides, they say it's good for the soul.
ANÍSYA. Yes, we'll send to-morrow.
¹ It is customary to place a dying person under the icón. One or
more icons hang in the hut of each Orthodox peasant.
28
The Power of Darkness
MATRYÓNA. Yes, you had better. And we've had a
wedding down in our parts.
NEIGHBOUR. What, during spring? 1
MATRYÓNA. Ah, 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 Matvéyitch, he's married that Marína.
ANÍSYA. What luck for her!
NEIGHBOUR. He's a widower. I suppose there are children?
MATRYÓNA. Four of 'em. What decent girl would have
him! Well, so he's taken her, and she's glad. You see,
the vessel was not sound, so the wine trickled out.
NEIGHBOUR. Oh my! What do people say of it? And
he's a rich peasant ?
MATRYÓNA. 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, Mávra. Where the devil are
you? Go and drive the cow in.
Exit Neighbour.
MATRYÓNA [while the Neighbour is within hearing speaks
in her ordinary voice] Yes, lass, thank goodness, she's
married. At any rate my old fool won't go bothering
about Nikíta. Now [suddenly changing her tone], she's
gone! [Whispers] I say, did you give him the tea?
ANÍSYA. Don't speak about it. He'd better die of
himself. It's no use-he doesn't die, and I have only
taken a sin on my soul. O-oh, my poor head! Oh, why
did you give me those powders?
MATRYÓNA. What of the powders? The sleeping powders,
lass, why not give them? No evil can come of them.
ANÍSYA. I am not talking of the sleeping ones, but the
others, the white ones.
1 Peasant weddings are usually in autumn. They are forbidden
in Lent, and after that the peasants are too busy to marry till
harvest is over.
The Power of Darkness
29
MATRYÓNA. Well, honey, those powders are medicinal.
ANÍSYA [sighs] I know, yet it's frightening. Though
he's worried me to death.
MATRYÓNA. Well, and did you use many ?
ANÍSYA. I gave two doses.
MATRYÓNA. Was anything noticeable ?
"Even
ANÍSYA. I had a taste of the tea myself-just a little
bitter. And he drank them with the tea and says,
tea disgusts me," and I say, "Everything tastes bitter
when one's sick." But I felt that scared, mother.
MATRYÓNA. Don't go thinking about it. The more one
thinks the worse it is.
ANÍSYA. I wish you'd never given them to me and led
me into sin. When I think of it something seems to tear
my heart. Oh dear, why did you give them to me?
MATRYÓNA. What do you mean, honey? Lord help you!
Why are you turning it on to me? Mind, lass, don't go
twisting matters from the sick on to the healthy. If
anything were to happen, I stand aside! I know nothing!
I'm aware of nothing! I'll kiss the cross on it; I never
gave you any kind of powders, never saw any, never
heard of any, and never knew there were such powders.
You think about yourself, lass. Why, we were talking
about you the other day. "Poor thing, what torture she
endures. The step-daughter an idiot; the old man rotten,
sucking her life-blood. What wouldn't one be ready to
do in such a case!"
ANÍSYA. I'm not going to deny it.
could make one do worse than that.
hang yourself or throttle him.
A life such as mine
It could make you
Is this a life?
There's no time to stand
MATRYÓNA. That's just it.
gaping; the money must be found one way or other, and
then he must have his tea.
ANÍSYA. O-oh, my poor head! I can't think what to do.
am so frightened; he'd better die of himself. I don't
want to have it on my soul.
30
The Power of Darkness
MATRYÓNA [viciously] And why doesn't he show the
money? Does he mean to take it along with him? Is
no one to have it? Is that right? God forbid such a
sum should be lost all for nothing. Isn't that a sin?
What's he doing? Is he worth considering?
ANÍSYA. I don't know myself. He's worried me to
death.
MATRYÓNA. What is it you don't know? The business
is clear. If you make a slip now, you'll repent it all your
life. He'll give the money to his sister and you'll be
left without.
ANÍSYA. O-oh dear! Yes, and he did send for her-
I must go.
MATRYÓNA. You wait a bit and light the samovár first.
We'll give him some tea and search him together—we'll
find it, no fear.
anísya. Oh dear, oh dear; supposing something were
to happen.
MATRYÓNA. What now? What's the good of waiting ?
Do you want the money to slip from your hand when it's
just in sight? You go and do as I say.
ANÍSYA. Well, I'll go and light the samovár.
MATRYÓNA. Go, honey, do the business so as not to
regret it afterwards. That's right! [Anisya turns to go.
Matryóna calls her back].
MATRYÓNA. Just a word. Don't tell Nikita about the
business. He's silly. God forbid he should find out
about the powders. The Lord only knows what he would
do. He's so tender-hearted. D'you know, he usen't to
be able to kill a chicken. Don't tell him. 'Twould be a
fine go, he wouldn't understand things. [Stops horror-
struck as Peter appears in the doorway].
PETER [holding on to the wall, creeps out into the porch
and calls with a faint voice] How's it one can't make you
hear? Oh, oh, Anísya! Who's there? [Drops on the
bench].
The Power of Darkness
31
ANÍSYA [steps from behind the corner] Why have you
come out? You should have lain where you were lying.
PETER. Has the girl gone for Martha? It's very hard.
Oh, if only death would come quicker!
ANÍSYA. She had no time. I sent her to the river.
Wait a bit, I'll go myself when I'm ready.
PETER. Send Nan. Where's she? Oh, it is bad! Oh,
death's at hand!
ANÍSYA. I've sent for her already.
PETER. Oh dear! Then where is she?
ANÍSYA. Where's she got to, the plague seize her!
PETER. Oh, dear! I can't bear it.
All my inside's on
fire. It's as if a gimlet were boring me. Why have you
left me as if I were a dog? . . . no one to give me a drink.
Oh . . . send Nan to me.
ANÍSYA. Here she is. Nan, go to father.
Nan runs in. Anísya goes behind the corner of the house.
PETER. Go you. Oh . .
to Aunt Martha, tell her
father wants her; say she's to come, I want her.
NAN. All right.
PETER. Wait a bit. Tell her she's to come quick. Tell
her I'm dying. O-oh!
NAN. I'll just get my shawl and be off. [Runs off].
MATRYÓNA [winking] Now then, mind and look sharp,
lass. Go into the hut, hunt about everywhere, like a dog
that's hunting for fleas: look under everything, and I'll
search him.
ANÍSYA [to Matryóna] I feel a bit bolder, somehow,
now you're here. [Goes up to porch. To Peter] Hadn't
I better light the samovár? Here's Mother Matryóna
come to see her son; you'll have a cup of tea with her?
PETER. Well then, light it. [Anisya goes into the house.
Matryóna comes up to the porch].
PETER. How do you do?
MATRYÓNA [bowing] How d'you do, my benefactor;
how d'you do, my precious . . . still ill, I see.
And my
32
The Power of Darkness
"Go," says he,
see how he's
old man, he's that sorry!
getting on." He sends his respects to you.
PETER. I'm dying.
[Bows again].
MATRYÓNA. Ah yes, Peter Ignátitch, now I look at you
I see, as the saying has it, "Sickness lives where men
live." You've shrivelled, shrivelled, all to nothing, poor
dear, now I come to look at you. Seems illness does not
add to good looks.
PETER. My last hour has come.
MATRYÓNA. Oh well, Peter Ignátitch, it's God's will you
know, you've had communion, and you'll have unction,
God willing. Your missus is a wise woman, the Lord be
thanked; she'll give you a good burial, and have prayers
said for your soul, all most respectable! And my son,
he'll look after things meanwhile.
PETER. There'll be no one to manage things! She's
not steady. Has her head full of folly-why, I know all
about it, I know. And my girl is silly and young. I've
got the homestead together, aud there's no one to attend
to things. One can't help feeling it. [Whimpers].
MATRYÓNA. Why, if it's money, or something, you can
leave orders.
PETER [to Anísya inside the house] Has Nan gone?
MATRYÓNA [aside] There now, he's remembered!
ANÍSYA [from inside] She went then and there. Come
inside, won't you? I'll help you in.
The
PETER. Let me sit here a bit for the last time.
air's so stuffy inside. Oh, how bad I feel! Oh, my
Oh, if death would only come.
heart's burning.
out.
•
•
MATRYÓNA. If God don't take a soul, the soul can't go
Death and life are in God's will, Peter Ignátitch.
You can't be sure of death either. Maybe you'll recover
yet. There was a man in our village just like that, at
the very point of death
PETER. No, I feel I shall die to-day, I feel' it.
back and shuts his eyes].
[Leans
I
The Power of Darkness
33
ANÍSYA [enters] Well now, are you coming in or not?
You do keep one waiting. Peter! eh, Peter!
MATRYÓNA [steps aside and beckons to Anísya with her finger]
Well?
ANÍSYA [comes down the porch steps] Not there.
MATRYÓNA. But have you searched everywhere? Under
the floor?
ANÍSYA. No, it's not there either. In the shed perhaps;
he was rummaging there yesterday.
MATRYÓNA. Go, search, search for all you're worth. Go
all over everywhere, as if you licked with your tongue!
But I see he'll die this very day, his nails are turning
blue and his face looks earthy. Is the samovár ready?
ANÍSYA. Just on the boil.
NIKITA [comes from the other side, if possible on horseback,
up to the gate, and does not see Peter. To Matryóna] How
d'you do, mother, is all well at home?
MATRYÓNA. The Lord be thanked, we're all alive and
have a crust to bite.
NIKÍTA. Well, and how's master?
MATRYÓNA. Hush, there he sits.
[Points to porch].
NIKITA. Well, let him sit. What's it to me?
PETER [opens his eyes] Nikíta, I say, Nikíta, come here!
[Nikita approaches. Anisya and Matryóna whisper together].
PETER. Why have you come back so early?
NIKITA. I've finished ploughing.
PETER. Have you done the strip beyond the bridge?
NIKITA. It's too far to go there.
PETER. Too far? From here it's still farther. You'll
have to go on purpose now. You might have made one
job of it. [Anísya, without showing herself, stands and listens].
MATRYÓNA [approaches] Oh, sonnie, why don't you take
more pains for your master? Your master is ill and
depends on you; you should serve him as you would your
own father, straining every muscle just as I always tell
you to.
C
34
The Power of Darkness
PETER. Well then-o-oh! . . . Get out the seed pota-
toes, and the women will go and sort them.
ANÍSYA [aside] No fear, I'm not going. He's again
sending every one away; he must have the money on him
now, and wants to hide it somewhere.
PETER. Else . . . o-oh! when the time comes for plant-
ing, they'll all be rotten. Oh, I can't stand it! [Rises].
MATRYÓNA [runs up into the porch and holds Peter up]
Shall I help you into the hut?
I'll die to-day. .
PETER. Help me in. [Stops] Nikíta.
NIKITA [angrily] What now?
PETER. I shan't see you again
Forgive me,¹ for Christ's sake, forgive me if I have ever
sinned against you. . . If I have sinned in word or
deed . . . There's been all sorts of things. Forgive me!
NIKITA. What's there to forgive? I'm a sinner myself.
MATRYÓNA. Ah, sonnie, have some feeling.
PETER. Forgive me, for Christ's sake. [Weeps].
NIKÍTA [snivels] God will forgive you, Daddy Peter. I
have no cause to complain of you. You've never done
me any wrong. You forgive me; maybe I've sinned
worse against you. [Weeps].
Peter goes in whimpering, Matryóna supporting him.
ANÍSYA. Oh, my poor head! It's not without some
reason he's hit on that. [Approaches Nikita] Why did
you say the money was under the floor? It's not there.
NIKITA [does not answer, but cries] I have never had
anything bad from him, nothing but good, and what have
I gone and done!
ANÍSYA. Enough now! Where's the money?
NIKITA [angrily] How should I know? Go and look
for it yourself!
1 A formal request for forgiveness is customary among Russians,
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
ANÍSYA. What's made you so tender?
NIKÍTA. I am sorry for him,—that sorry. How he cried!
Oh dear!
ANÍSYA. Look at him,-seized with pity! He has found
someone to pity too! He's been treating you like a dog,
and even just now was giving orders to have you turned
out of the house. You'd better show me some pity!
NIKITA. What are you to be pitied for?
ANÍSYA. If he dies, and the money's been hidden
away
•
NIKITA. No fear, he'll not hide it
ANÍSYA. Oh, Nikíta 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.
NIKITA. I saw him coming from there, but where he's
shoved it to, who can tell?
ANÍSYA. Oh, my poor head! I'll go and have a look
there. [Nikita steps aside].
MATRYÓNA [comes out of the hut and down the steps of the
porch to Anisya and Nikita] Don't go anywhere. He's
got the money on him. I felt it on a string round his
neck.
ANÍSYA. Oh my poor head!
MATRYÓNA. If you don't keep wide awake now, then
you may whistle for it.
If his sister comes-then good-
bye to it!
ANÍSYA. That's true.
She'll come and he'll give it her.
What's to be done? Oh my poor head!
MATRYÓNA. What is to be done? Why, look here:
the samovár 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.
ANÍSYA. Oh! I'm afeared!
36
The Power of Darkness
MATRYÓNA. 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.
ANÍSYA. Oh my poor head! I don't know how I'm
going to ..
MATRYÓNA. Don't talk about it I tell you, do as I bid
you. Nikita!
NIKITA. What is it?
MATRYÓNA. You stay here-sit down-in case some-
thing is wanted.
NIKÍTA [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.
MATRYÓNA [catches him by the arm] Stay here, I tell
you.
Nan enters.
ANÍSYA. Well?
NAN. She was down in her daughter's vegetable plot-
she's coming.
ANÍSYA. Coming! What shall we do?
MATRYÓNA. There's plenty of time if you do as I tell
you.
ANÍSYA. 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.
MATRYóna. Go on! I should think the samovár's boil-
ing over.
ANÍSYA. Oh my head, my poor head! [Exit].
MATRYÓNA [approaches Nikita] Now then, sonnie. [Sits
down beside him] Your affairs must also be thought about,
and not left anyhow.
NIKITA. What affairs?
MATRYÓNA. Why, this affair-how you're to live your
life.
The Power of Darkness
37
NIKITA. How to live my life? Others live, and I shall
live!
MATRYÓNA. The old man will probably die to-day.
NIKITA. Well, if he dies, God give him rest! What's
that to me?
MATRYÓNA [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 not forget me when the
time comes.
NIKITA. And what's it you've been bothering about?
66
I
MATRYÓNA. About your affairs, about your future. If you
don't take trouble in good time you'll get nothing. You
know Iván Moséitch? Well, I've been to him too.
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, Iván Moséitch," 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 homestead by marrying the widow?
Could he," says I, "give both the daughters in marriage
and remain master of the house himself?" "Yes, he
could," says he, "but," says he, "it would mean a deal
of trouble; still the thing could be managed by means of
money, but if there's no money it's no good trying."
NIKITA [laughs] That goes without saying, only fork out
the money. Who does not want money?
MATRYÓNA. 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. [Nikita reads].
NIKITA. This paper's only a decision for the elders to
sign. There's no great wisdom needed for that.
MATRYÓNA. But you just hear what Iván Moséitch bids
us do.
"Above all," he says, "mind and don't let the
money slip away, dame. If she don't get hold of the
money," he says, "they'll not let her do it. Money's the
great thing!" So look out, sonnie, things are coming to
a head.
NIKITA. What's that to me? The money's hers—so let
her look out.
How can
MATRYÓNA. Ah, sonnie, how you look at it!
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 are all so inexpedient!
MATRYÓNA. Why inexpedient? You just collar the
money, and the woman's in your hands. And then should
she ever turn snappish you'd be able to tighten the reins!
NIKITA. Bother you all,-I'm going.
ANÍSYA [quite pale, runs out of the hut and round the corner
to Matryóna] So it was, it was on him! Here it is!
[Shows that she has something under her apron].
MATRYÓNA. Give it to Nikíta, he'll hide it. Nikíta, take
it and hide it somewhere.
NIKITA. All right, give here!
ANÍSYA. O-oh, my poor head! No, I'd better do it
myself. [Goes towards the gate].
MATRYÓNA [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
ANÍSYA [stops irresolutely] Oh, my poor head!
NIKITA. Well, give it here. I'll shove it away somewhere.
ANÍSYA. Where will you shove it to?
NIKITA [laughing] Why, are you afraid?
Enter Akoulína, carrying clothes from the wash.
Anísva. O-oh, my poor head! [Gives the money] Mind,
Nikita.
NIKITA. What are you afraid of? I'll hide it so that
I'll not be able to find it myself. [Exit].
ANÍSYA [stands in terror] Oh dear, and supposing he . . .
MATRYÓNA. Well, is he dead?
ANÍSYA. Yes, he seems dead. He did not move when I
took it.
MATRYÓNA. Go in, there's Akoulína.
ANÍSYA. Well there, I've done the sin and he has the
money.
•
MATRYÓNA. Have done and go in! There's Martha coming!
ANÍSYA. There now, I've trusted him. What's going
to happen now? [Exit].
MARTHA [enters from one side, Akoulína enters from the
other. To Akoulína] I should have come before, but I was
at my daughter's. Well, how's the old man? Is he
dying?
AKOULÍNA [puts down the clothes] Don't know, I've been
to the river.
MARTHA [pointing to Matryóna] Who's that?
MATRYÓNA. I'm from Zoúevo. I'm Nikita's mother from
Zoúevo, my dearie. Good
afternoon to you. He's
withering, withering away, poor dear-your brother, I
He came out himself. "Send for my sister," he
said, "because," said he . . . Dear me, why, I do believe,
he's dead!
mean.
ANÍSYA [runs out screaming. Clings to a post, and begins
wailing]¹ Oh, oh, ah! who-o-o-m have you left me
1 Loud public wailing of this kind is customary, and considered
indispensable, among the peasants.
40
The Power of Darkness
to, why-y-y have you dese-e-e-e-rted me a miserable
widow .. to live my life alone. . . Why have you
closed your bright eyes
•
Enter Neighbour. Matryóna and Neighbour catch hold of
Anisya under the arms to support her. Akoulina and Martha
go into the hut. A crowd assembles.
A VOICE IN THE CROWD. Send for the old women to lay
out the body.
MATRYÓNA [rolls up her sleeves] Is there any water in
the copper
But I daresay the samovár is still hot.
I'll also go and help a bit.
Curtain.
The same hut.
ACT III
Winter. Nine months have passed since
Act II. Anísya, plainly dressed, sits before a loom weaving.
Nan is on the oven.
MÍTRITCH [an old labourer, enters, and slowly takes off his
outdoor things] Oh Lord, have mercy! Well, hasn't the
master come home yet?
ANÍSYA. What?
MÍTRITCH. Nikita isn't back from town, is he?
ANÍSYA. No.
MÍTRITCH. Must have been on the spree. Oh Lord!
ANÍSYA. Have you finished in the stackyard?
MÍTRITCH. What d'you think? Got it all as it should
be, and covered everything with straw! I don't like
doing things by halves! Oh Lord! holy Nicholas ! [Picks
at the corns on his hands] Else it's time he were back.
ANÍSYA. What need has he to hurry? He's got money.
Merry-making with that girl, I daresay .
MÍTRITCH. Why shouldn't one make merry if one has
the money? And why did Akoulína go to town?
ANÍSYA. You'd better ask her. How do I know what
the devil took her there!
MÍTRITCH. What! to town?
There's all sorts of things
to be got in town if one's got the means. Oh Lord!
NAN. Mother, I heard myself. "I'll get you a little
shawl," he says, may I die; "you shall choose it yourself,"
he says. And she got herself up so fine; she put on her
velveteen coat and the French shawl.
4I
42
The Power of Darkness
ANÍSYA. Really, a girl's modesty reaches only to the
door. Step over the threshold and it's forgotten. She
is a shameless creature.
MÍTRITCH. Oh my! What's the use of being ashamed?
While there's plenty of money make merry. Oh Lord!
It is too soon to have supper, eh? [Anísya does not answer]
I'll go and get warm meanwhile. [Climbs on the stove]
Oh Lord! Blessed Virgin Mother! holy Nicholas !
NEIGHBOUR [enters] Seems your goodman's not back yet?
ANÍSYA. No.
NEIGHBOUR. It's time he was. Hasn't he perhaps
stopped at our inn? My sister, Thekla, says there's heaps
of sledges standing there as have come from the town.
ANÍSYA. Nan! Nan, I say!
NAN. Yes?
ANÍSYA. You run to the inn and see! Mayhap, being
drunk, he's gone there.
NAN [jumps down from the oven and dresses] All right.
NEIGHBOUR. And he's taken Akoulína with him?
ANÍSYA. Else he'd not have had any need of going. It's
because of her he's unearthed all the business there.
"Must go to the bank," he says; "it's time to receive
the payments,” he says. But it's all her fooling.
NEIGHBOUR [shakes her head] It's a bad look-out.
[Silence].
NAN [at the door] And if he's there, what am I to say?
ANÍSYA. You only see if he's there.
NAN. All right. I'll be back in a winking. [Long
silence].
MÍTRITCH [roars] Oh Lord! merciful Nicholas !
NEIGHBOUR [starting] Oh, how he scared me? Who
is it?
ANÍSYA. Why, Mítritch, our labourer.
NEIGHBOUR. Oh dear, oh dear, what a fright he did
give me! I had quite forgotten. But tell me, dear,
I've heard someone's been wooing Akoulína ?
The Power of Darkness
43
ANÍSYA [gets up from the loom and sits down by the table]
There was some one from Dédlovo; but it seems the
affair's got wind there too. They made a start, and
then stopped; so the thing fell through. Of course,
who'd care to?
NEIGHBOUR. And the Lizounófs from Zoúevo?
ANÍSYA. They made some steps too, but it didn't come
off either. They won't even receive us.
NEIGHBOUR. Yet it's time she was married.
ANÍSYA. Time and more than time! Ah, my dear, I'm
that impatient to get her out of the house; but the
matter does not come off. He does not wish it, nor she,
either. He's not yet had enough of his beauty, you
see.
NEIGHBOUR. Eh, eh, eh, what doings! Only think of it.
Why, he's her step-father!
ANÍSYA. Ah, friend, they've taken me in completely.
They've done me so fine it's beyond saying. I, fool that
I was, noticed nothing, suspected nothing, and so I mar-
ried him. I guessed nothing, but they already understood
one another.
NEIGHBOUR. Oh dear, what goings on!
ANÍSYA. So it went on from bad to worse, and I see they
begin hiding from me. Ah, friend, I was that sick-that
sick of my life! It's not as if I didn't love him.
NEIGHBOUR. That goes without saying.
ANÍSYA. Ah, how hard it is to bear such treatment from
him! Oh, how it hurts!
NEIGHBOUR. Yes, and I've heard say he's becoming too
free with his fists?
ANÍSYA. And that too!
There was a time when he was
gentle when he'd had a drop. He used to hit out before,
but of me he was always fond! But now when he's in a
temper he goes for me and is ready to trample me under
his feet. The other day he got both hands entangled in
my hair so that I could hardly get away. And the girl's
:
44
The Power of Darkness
worse than a serpent; it's a wonder the earth bears such
furies.
Neighbour. Ah, ah, my dear, now I look at you, you
are a sufferer! To suffer like that is no joke. To have
given shelter to a beggar, and he to lead you such a
dance! Why don't you pull in the reins?
ANÍSYA. Ah, but my dear, if it weren't for my heart!
Him as is gone was stern enough, still I could twist him
about any way I liked; but with this one I can do nothing.
As soon as I see him all my anger goes. I haven't a grain
of courage before him; I go about like a drowned hen.
NEIGHBOUR. Ah, neighbour, you must be under a spell.
I've heard that Matryóna goes in for that sort of thing.
It must be her.
ANÍSYA. Yes, dear; I think so myself sometimes.
Gracious me, how hurt I feel at times! I'd like to
tear him to pieces. But when I set eyes on him, my
heart won't go against him.
NEIGHBOUR. It's plain you're bewitched. It don't take
long to blight a body. There now, when I look at you,
what you have dwindled to!
She's grown
ANÍSYA. Growing a regular spindle-shanks. And just
look at that fool Akoulína. Wasn't the girl a regular
untidy slattern, and just look at her now! Where has it
all come from? Yes, he has fitted her out.
so smart, so puffed up, just like a bubble that's ready to
burst. And, though she's a fool, she's got it into her
head, "I'm the mistress," she says; "the house is mine;
it's me father wanted him to marry." And she's that
vicious! Lord help us, when she gets into a rage she's
ready to tear the thatch off the house.
NEIGHBOUR. Oh dear, what a life yours is, now I come
to look at you. And yet there's people envying you:
They're rich," they say; but it seems that gold don't
keep tears from falling.
66
ANÍSYA. Much reason for envy indeed! And the riches,
The Power of Darkness
45.
too, will soon be made ducks and drakes of. Dear me,
how he squanders money!
NEIGHBOUR. But how's it, dear, you've been so simple
to give up the money? It's yours.
Anísva. Ah, if you knew all! The thing is that I've
made one little mistake.
NEIGHBOUR. Well, if I were you, I'd go straight and
have the law of him. The money's yours; how dare he
squander it? There's no such rights.
ANÍSYA. They don't pay heed to that nowadays.
NEIGHBOUR. Ah, my dear, now I come to look at you,
you've got that weak.
ANÍSYA. Yes, quite weak, dear, quite weak.
He's got
me into a regular fix. I don't myself know anything.
Oh, my poor head !
NEIGHBOUR [listening] There's someone coming, I think.
[The door opens and Akim enters].
AKÍM [crosses himself, knocks the snow off his feet, and takes
off his coat] Peace be to this house! How do you do?
Are you well, daughter?
ANÍSYA. How d'you do, father? Do you come straight
from home?
AKÍM. I've been a-thinking, I'll go and see what's name,
go to see my son, I mean,—my son. I didn't start
early-had my dinner, I mean; I went, and it's so what
d'you call it so snowy, hard walking, and so there I'm
what d'you call it—late, I mean. And my son is he at
home? At home? My son, I mean.
ANÍSYA. No; he's gone to the town.
AKÍM [sits down on a bench] I've some business with
him, d'you see, some business, I mean. I told him t'other
day, told him I was in need-told him, I mean, that our
horse was done for, our horse, you see. So we must what
d'ye call it, get a horse, I mean, some kind of a horse, I
So there, I've come, you see.
mean.
ANÍSYA. Nikíta told me. When he comes back you'll
• 46
The Power of Darkness
have a talk. [Goes to the oven] Have some supper now,
and he'll soon come. Mítritch, eh Mítritch, come have
your supper.
MÍTRITCH. Oh Lord! merciful Nicholas !
ANÍSYA. Come to supper.
NEIGHBOUR. I shall go now. Good-night. [Exit].
MÍTRITCH [gets down from the oven] I never noticed
how I fell asleep. Oh Lord! gracious Nicholas ! How
d'you do, Daddy Akím?
AKÍM. Ah, Mítritch! What are you, what d'ye call it, I
mean? .
MÍTRITCH. Why, I'm working for your son, Nikíta.
AKÍM. Dear me! What d'ye call.
What d'ye call . . . working for my
son, I mean. Dear me !
MÍTRITCH. I was living with a tradesman in town, but
drank all I had there. Now I've come back to the
village. I've no home, so I've gone into service. [Gapes]
Oh Lord!
AKÍM. But how's that, what d'you call it, or what's
name, Nikíta, what does he do? Has he some business,
I mean besides, that he should hire a labourer, a labourer
I mean, hire a labourer?
ANÍSYA. What business should he have? He used to
manage, but now he's other things on his mind, so he's
hired a labourer.
MÍTRITCH. Why shouldn't he, seeing he has money?
AKÍM. Now that's what d'you call it, that's wrong, I
mean, quite wrong, I mean. That's spoiling oneself.
ANÍSYA. Oh, he has got spoilt, that spoilt, it's just
awful.
AKÍм. There now, what d'you call it, one thinks how
to make things better, and it gets worse I mean. Riches
spoil a man, spoil, I mean.
MÍTRITCH. Fatness makes even a dog go mad; how's one
not to get spoilt by fat living? 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!
AKÍM. And where's what d'you call, your old woman?
MÍTRITCH. 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!
AKÍM. Oh, oh, oh, how's that?
MÍTRITCH. And where's a soldier's wife to go? She has
found her right place. [Silence].
AKÍM [to Anisya] And Nikíta,—has he what d'you call
it, taken anything up to town? I mean, anything to
sell?
ANÍSYA [laying the table and serving up] No, he's taken
nothing. He's gone to get money from the bank.
AKÍM [sitting down to supper] Why? D'you wish to put
it to another use, the money I mean?
ANÍSYA. No, we don't touch it. Only some twenty or
thirty roubles as have come due; they must be taken.
AKÍM. 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.
ANÍSYA. We get this besides. The money is all safe.
AKÍM. 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?
ANÍSYA. I know nothing about it. Iván Moséitch 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.
MÍTRITCH [having finished his supper] That's so. I've
lived with a tradesman. They all do like that. Put the
money in the bank, then lie down on the oven and it
will keep coming in.
AKÍM. 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?
ANÍSYA. They take the money out of the bank.
CC
MÍTRITCH. 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. 'Akím,” 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.
AKÍM. Yes, but that's what peasants do when they what
d'ye call it, when they forget God. It's not honest, I
mean, it's no good, I mean.
MÍTRITCH. You wait. You'll see it comes just to the
same thing. Now don't forget how you've skinned me.
And Anísya, 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
"Couldn't you make some profit with my money
you.
too?" she says. Why not?" say you, and you wait.
Before the summer I come again and say,
"Give me
(6
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 Anísya'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
Anísya's money and skin him. That's what the bank is.
So it goes round and round. It's a cute thing, old fellow!
AKÍM [excitedly] Gracious me, whatever is that like?
It's what d'ye call it, it's filthy! The peasants—what
d'ye call it, the peasants do so I mean, and know it's,
what d'ye call it, a sin! It's what d'you call, not right,
not right, I mean. It's filthy! How can people as have
learnt. what d'ye call it
MÍTRITCH. That, old fellow, is just what they're fond of!
And remember, them that are stupid, or the 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!
AKÍM [sighing] 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.
MÍTRITCH. Not right? Eh, old fellow, who cares about
that nowadays? And how clean they pluck you, too!
That's the fact of the matter.
AKÍM [sighs] 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!
D
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].
ANÍSYA [eats, and collects the dishes] If his father would
only take him to task! But I'm ashamed to tell him.
AKÍM. What d'you say?
ANÍSYA. Oh! it's nothing.
Enter Nan.
AKÍM. Here's a good girl, always busy! You're cold, I
should think?
NAN. Yes, I am, terribly.
father?
ANÍSYA. Well? Is he there?
How d'you do, grand-
NAN. No. But Andriyán is there.
He's been to town,
He says
and he says he saw them at an inn in town.
Dad's as drunk as drunk can be!
ANÍSYA. Do you want anything to eat?
Here you are.
My hands are
NAN [goes to the oven] Well, it is cold.
quite numb. [Akim takes off his leg-bands and bast-shoes.
Anísya washes up].
ANÍSYA. Father!
AKÍM. Well, what is it?
ANÍSYA. And is Marína living well?
AKÍM. 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.
ANÍSYA. And is there no talk in your village that a
relative of Marína's husband thinks of marrying our
Akoulína? Have you heard nothing of it?
AKÍM. Ah; that's Mirónof. 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 Mirónofs are
The Power of Darkness
51
what d'ye call it, they're all right, I mean they're all
right.
ANÍSYA. I'm that impatient to get her settled.
AKÍM. And why?
NAN [listens] They've come!
ANÍSYA. Well, don't you go bothering them. [Goes on
washing the spoons without turning her head].
NIKÍTA [enters] Anísya! Wife! who has come? [Anísya
looks up and turns away in silence].
NIKÍTA [severely] Who has come ?
gotten?
ANÍSYA. Now don't humbug. Come in!
NIKITA [still more severely] Who's come?
Have you for-
ANÍSYA [goes up and takes him by the arm] Well then,
husband has come. Now then, come in!
NIKITA [holds back] Ah, that's it!
what's husband called? Speak properly.
ANÍSYA. Oh bother you! Nikíta !
Husband! And
NIKITA. Where have you learnt manners? The full
name.
ANÍSYA. Nikita Akímitch! Now then!
NIKÍTA [still in the doorway] Ah, that's it! But now
the surname ?
ANÍSYA [laughs and pulls him by the arm] Tchilíkin.
Dear me, what airs!
NIKITA. Ah, that's it. [Holds on to the door-post] No,
now say with which foot Tchilíkin steps into this
house!
ANÍSYA. 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.
ANÍSYA [aside] He'll go on worrying. [To Nikita] Well
then, with the left. Come in!
NIKITA. Ah, that's it.
ANÍSYA. You look who's in the hut!
NIKÍTA. 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? [Bows and puts out his
hand] My respects to you.
AKÍM [does not answer] Drink, I mean drink, what it
does! It's filthy!
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.
ANÍSYA. Go and lie down, I say.
NIKITA. Wife, say where am I standing?
ANÍSYA. Now then, it's all right, lie down!
NIKITA. No, I'll first drink a samovár with my parent.
Go and light the samovár. Akoulína, I say, come here!
Enter Akoulína, smartly dressed and carrying their pur-
chases.
AKOULÍNA. Why have you thrown everything about?
Where's the yarn ?
NIKÍTA. The yarn? The yarn's there. Hullo, Mítritch,
where are you? Asleep? Asleep? Go and put the
horse up.
AKÍM [not seeing Akoulína 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!
MÍTRITCH [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 Mítritch, he doesn't mind, he'll put it up.
ANÍSYA. Shall I really light the samovár ?
NIKITA. Light it! My parent has come.
I wish to talk
The Power of Darkness
53
to him, and shall drink tea with him. [To Akoulína]
Have you brought all the parcels ?
AKOULÍNA. 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 puts them away. Akim does not look
at his son, but puts his leg-bands and bast-shoes on the oven.
ANÍSYA [going out with the samovár] Her box is full as
it is, and still he's bought more!
NIKÍTA [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.
AKÍM [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.
AKÍM [shakes his head] Eh, eh, eh!
NIKITA. The money, here it 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.
AKÍM. I can't, what d'you call it, I mean, can't take it!
And can't what d'ye call it, talk to you, because you're
not yourself, I mean.
54
The Power of Darkness
Nikíta. I'll not let you go! Take it! [Puts the money
into Akim's hand].
ANÍSYA [enters, and stops] You'd better take it, he'll give
you no peace!
AKÍM [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
Akoulína] Akoulína, show your presents.
AKOULÍNA. What?
NIKITA. Show your presents.
AKOULÍNA. 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.
AKÍM. Oh, oh! It's sickening! [Climbs on the oven].
AKOULÍNA [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 Stepanída's.
AKOULÍNA. Stepanída's? What's Stepanída'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!
lighter on a blue ground.
NIKÍTA. Ah, that's it!
Mary has a dress like it, only
This is pretty.
Anisya passes angrily into the closet, returns with a table-
cloth and the chimney of the samovár, and goes up to the
table.
ANÍSYA. Drat you, littering the table!
NIKITA. You look here!
ANÍSYA. What am I to look at? Have I never seen
anything? Put it away! [Sweeps the shawl on to the floor
with her arm].
AKOULINA. What are you pitching things down for?
You pitch your own things about! [Picks up the shawl].
NIKITA. Anísya! Look here!
The Power of Darkness
55
ANÍSYA. 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
Only you must earn it! Wife, where am I
for you.
sitting?
ANÍSYA. Enough of your humbug. I'm not afraid of
you. Whose money are you spreeing on and buying your
fat wench presents with? Mine!
AKOULÍNA. Yours indeed?
it, but it did not come off!
her while trying to pass].
No fear! You wished to steal
Get out of the way!
[Pushes
ANÍSYA. What are you shoving for? I'll teach you to
shove !
AKOULÍNA. Shove me? You try! [Presses against Anísya].
NIKITA. Now then, now then, you women.
now! [Steps between them].
AKOULÍNA. Comes shoving herself in!
keep quiet and remember your doings!
one knows!
Have done
You ought to
You think no
ANÍSYA. Knows what? Out with it, out with it! What
do they know ?
AKOULÍNA. I know something about you !
ANÍSYA. You're a slut who goes with another's husband!
akoulína. And you did yours to death!
ANÍSYA [throwing herself on Akoulína] You're raving!
NIKITA [holding her back] Anísya, you seem to have for-
gotten!
ANÍSYA. Want to frighten me! I'm not afraid of you!
NIKÍTA [turns Anísya round and pushes her out] Be off!
ANÍSYA. Where am I to go? I'll not go out of my own
house !
NIKÍTA. Be off, I tell you, and don't dare to come in
here!
ANÍSYA. 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 doing, you scoundrel? Do you think there's no
law for you? You wait a bit!
NIKITA. Now then!
ANÍSYA. I'll go to the Elder! To the policeman !
NIKITA. Off, I tell you! [Pushes her out].
ANÍSYA [behind the door] I'll hang myself!
NIKITA. 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
[Exit Nan].
see to the samovár.
AKOULÍNA [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?
AKOULÍNA. 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 you be angry?
Now if I loved her
•
AKOULÍNA. 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 devil.
And the house was mine all the same, and the money was
mine! Says she is the mistress, but what 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!
NIKÍTA. Oh dear, how's one to stop a woman's jaw?
You don't yourself know what you're jabbering about!
AKOULÍNA. Yes, I do. I'll not live with her! I'll turn
her out of the house!
The mistress indeed!
bird!
She can't live here with me.
She's not the mistress,-that jail-
NIKITA. That's enough!
her? Don't mind her.
master!
I do as I like.
I do as I like.
What have you to do with
You look at me! I am the
I've ceased to love her, and
now I love you. I love who I like! The power 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.
MÍTRITCH. Seems the women have been fighting again!
Tearing each other's hair. Oh Lord, gracious Nicholas !
AKÍM [sitting on the edge of the oven, takes his leg-bands
and shoes and begins putting them on] Get in, get into the
corner.
MÍTRITCH. Seems they can't settle matters between
them. Oh Lord!
NIKÍTA. Get out the liquor, we'll have some with our
tea.
NAN [to Akoulína] Sister, the samovár is just boiling
over.
NIKITA. And where's your mother?
NAN. She's standing and crying out there in the passage.
NIKITA. Oh, that's it! Call her, and tell her to bring
the samovár. And you, Akoulína, get the tea things.
AKOULÍNA. 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 kopéykas, 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 Anísya with samovár.
58
The Power of Darkness
ANÍSYA. Where shall I put it?
NIKÍTA. 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. Anísya takes it silently and shakes her head].
AKím [gets down and puts on his sheepskin, then comes up to
the table and puts down the money] Here, take your money
back! Put it away.
NIKÍTA [does not see the money] Why have you put on
your things?
AKÍM. 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?
AKÍM. 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,
Nikíta, in the house, what d'ye call it, not right! I mean,
you are living a bad life, Nikíta, bad,—I'll go.
NIKITA. Eh now! Have done talking! Sit down and
drink your tea!
ANÍSYA. Why, father, you'll shame us before the neigh-
bours. What has offended you?
AKÍM. 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 mean
my son's on the road to ruin, I mean.
NIKITA. What ruin? Just prove it!
AkÍM. 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
AKÍM. I told you, what d'ye call it, I told you about the
orphan lass. That you had wronged an orphan-Marína,
I mean, wronged her!
NIKITA. Eh! he's at it again. Let bygones be bygones
All that's past!
AKÍM [excited] Past! No, lad, it's not past. Sin, I
mean, fastens on to sin-drags sin after it, and you've
stuck fast, Nikíta, fast in sin! Stuck fast in sin! I see
you're fast in sin. Stuck fast, sunk in sin, I mean!
NIKITA. Sit down and drink your tea, and have done
with it!
AKÍM. 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.
AKÍM. You're in your riches same as in a net—you're
in a net, I mean. Ah, Nikíta, 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!
AKÍM. 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 [angrily] We are living without help from you,
and it's you who came to us with your wants!
AKÍM. 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 by the arm].
AKÍM [shrieks] Let go! I'll not stay. I'd rather sleep
under some fence than in the midst of your filth! Faugh!
God forgive me! [Exit].
60
The Power of Darkness
NIKÍTA. Here's a go!
AKÍM [reopens the door] Come to your senses, Nikíta!
It's the soul that God wants! [Exit].
AKOULÍNA [takes cups] Well, shall I pour out the tea?
[Takes a cup. All are silent].
MÍTRITCH [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 Akoulína] Where's the concertina?
AKOULÍNA. The concertina? He's bethought himself of
it. Why, you took it to be mended. I've poured out
your tea.
Drink it!
NIKITA. I don't want it! Put out the light . . . Oh,
how dull I feel, how dull! [Sobs].
Curtain.
ACT IV
Autumn. Evening. The moon is shining. The stage re-
presents the interior of courtyard. The scenery at the back
shows, in the middle, the back porch of the hut.
To the right
the winter 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.¹
Second Neighbour Woman comes out of the hut and beckons to
First Neighbour Woman.
SECOND NEIGHBOUR. How's it Akoulína 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 she's been 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 all drunk!
Besides, they are chiefly after her dowry. Just think what
1 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.
61
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. That's all very well, but even money
can't give much pleasure in the face of such a dis-
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.
It's awfully hot!
THE FATHER. Oh, I'm all in a sweat.
Will just cool myself a bit. [Stands puffing] The Lord only
knows what-something is not right. I can't feel happy.
-Well, it's the old woman's affair.
Enter Matryóna from hut.
MATRYÓNA. 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 other like her in all the
district!
THE FATHER, That's true enough, but how about the
money?
MATRYÓNA. 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 nowadays. 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.
MATRYÓNA. I'll tell you straight, friend: if it hadn't
been for me, you'd never have found anything like her!
They've had an offer from the Karmílins, 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 Nikíta into
the homestead-of course I know all about it from my
son,—and the money was to go to Akoulína. Why, another
one might have thought of his own interests, but Nikíta
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!
MATRYÓNA. 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 daisy!
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?
MATRYÓNA. Oh, ah. . . . Who? She? Sickly? Why,
there's none to compare with her in 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 her not 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! They know of
the betrothal and they bewitched her. But I know a
counter-spell. The girl will get up to-morrow.
you worry about the girl!
THE FATHER. Well, of course, the thing's settled.
MATRYÓNA. Yes, of course!
don't forget me, I've had a
get...
Don't
Don't you turn back. And
lot of trouble. Don't for-
A woman's voice from the hut.
VOICE. If we are to go, let's go.
Come along, Iván !
THE FATHER. I'm coming. [Exeunt. Guests crowd together
in the passage and prepare to go away].
NAN [runs out of the hut and calls to Anisya] Mother!
き
​}
64
The Power of Darkness
ANÍSYA [from inside] What d'you want?
NAN. Mother, come here, or they'll hear.
Anísya enters and they go together to the shed.
ANÍSYA. Well? What is it? Where's Akoulína ?
NAN. She's gone into the barn. It's awful what's she's
doing there! May I die! "I can't bear it," she says.
"I'll scream," she says, "I'll scream out loud." May
I die!
ANÍSYA. 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 afraid!
ANÍSYA. No fear, she'll not die. But don't you go near
her. Come along. [Exit Anisya and Nan].
MÍTRITCH [comes 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! [Yawns] 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. Mítritch, you get off to sleep and I'll put this
straight.
MÍTRITCH. All right, you throw it to the sheep. Well,
have you seen 'em all off?
L
The Power of Darkness
65
NIKITA. Yes, they're off! But things are not right! I
don't know what to do!
MÍTRITCH. It's a fine mess. But there's the Foundlings' 1
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, Mítritch, don't go blabbing.
MÍTRITCH. 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, yawning].
Nikita is long silent. Sits down on a sledge.
NIKÍTA. Here's a go!
Enter Anísya.
ANÍSYA. Where are you?
NIKITA. Here.
ANÍSYA. What are you doing there? There's no time to
be lost! We must take it out directly!
NIKITA. What are we to do?
ANÍSYA. 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.
ANÍSYA. 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?
ANÍSYA. Go down into the cellar, I tell you, and dig a
hole!
NIKITA. Couldn't you manage, somehow, some other way?
ANÍSYA [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!
1 The Foundlings' Hospital in Moscow, where 80 to 90 per cent.
of the children die,
E
66
The Power of Darkness
•
Enter Nan.
NAN. Mother! Grandmother's calling! I think sister's
got a baby! May I die, it screamed!
ANÍSYA. 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
ANÍSYA [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? Why, last year this Anísya dangled
after me.
What was I to do? Am I a monk? The
master died; and I covered my sin as was proper, so I was
not to blame there. Aren't there lots of such cases?
And then those powders. Did I put her up to that?
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! Well then, how
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 blame 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 Matryóna with a lantern and spade, panting.
MATRYÓNA. 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?
MATRYÓNA. We know what to do. You do your share !
NIKITA. You'll be getting me into a mess!
MATRYÓNA. What? You're not thinking of backing out,
are you? Now it's come to this, and you back out!
NIKITA. Think what a thing it would be! It's a living
soul.
MATRYÓNA. A living soul indeed! Why, it's more dead
than alive. And 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?
MATRYÓNA. 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 women can't do it without a man.
There, take the spade, and get it done there,—I'll hold
the light.
NIKITA. What am I to get done?
MATRYÓNA [in a low voice] Dig a hole; 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?
MATRYÓNA. 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 [gives 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 get me into a mess, bother you! I'll go
away! You do it alone as best you can!
ANÍSYA [through the doorway] Well? Has he dug it?
MATRYÓNA. Why have you come away? What have
you done with it?
68
The Power of Darkness
ANÍSYA. I've covered it with rags. No one can hear it.
Well, has he dug it?
MATRYÓNA. He doesn't want to!
ANÍSYA [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?
?
ANÍSYA. 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 !
MATRYÓNA. That's enough now. Nikita dear, why are
you obstinate? What's to be done now? One must take
some trouble. Go, honey.
ANÍSYA. 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 !
ANÍSYA. Not go? [Begins to shout] Neighbours! Heh!
heh!
MATRYÓNA [closes her mouth] What are you about? You're
mad! He'll go.
. . Go, sonnie; go, my own.
•
Anísya. I'll cry murder!
ANÍSYA.
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].
MATRYÓNA. Yes, that's just it, honey. If you know how
to amuse yourself, you must know how to hide the conse-
quences.
ANÍSYA [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
MATRYÓNA. 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].
ANÍSYA. And I'll make him strangle his dirty brat! [Still
excited] I've worried myself to death all 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!
NIKITA [from the cellar] Show a light!
MATRYÓNA [holds up the lantern to him. To Anisya] He's
digging. Go and bring it.
ANÍSYA. You stay with him, or he'll go away, the wretch !
And I'll go and bring it.
MATRYÓNA. Mind, don't forget to baptize it, or I will
if you like. Have you a cross?
ANÍSYA. I'll find one. I know how to do it. [Exit].
See at end of Act, Variation, which may be used instead
of the following.
But one
MATRYÓNA. How the woman bristled up!
must say she's been put upon. Well, but with the Lord's
help, when we've covered this business, there'll be an
end of it. We'll shove the girl off 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 Matryóna? They'd not
have known how to contrive things. [Peering into the
cellar] Is it ready, sonnie?
NIKITA [puts 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.
MATRYÓNA [goes towards door of the hut and meets Anísya.
Anísya comes out with a baby wrapped in rags] Well, have
you baptized it?
70
The Power of Darkness
ANÍSYA. 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 Nikita].
NIKITA [does not take it] You bring it yourself!
ANÍSYA. Take it, I tell you!
NIKITA [catches it] It's alive!
It's alive! What am I to
[Throws the baby to him].
Gracious me, it's moving!
ANÍSYA [snatche sthe baby from him and throws it into the
cellar] Be quick and smother it, and then it won't be
alive! [Pushes Nikita down] It's your doing, and you must
finish it.
MATRYÓNA [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?
Anísya stands by the cellar.
!
MATRYÓNA [sits looking at her and discourses] Oh, oh, oh !
How frightened he got: 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 Anísya] Well?
ANÍSYA [looking into the cellar] He's put a board on it
and is sitting on it. It must be finished!
MATRYóna. Oh, oh!
but what's one to do?
•
One would be glad not to sin,
Re-enter Nikita from cellar, trembling all over.
NIKITA. It's still alive! I can't!
I can't! It's alive!
ANÍSYA. 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 s; she escapes, he runs after her with the spade.
Matryóna runs towards him and stops him. Anísya runs into
the porch. Matryóna tries to wrench the spade from him.
To his mother] I'll kill you! I'll kill you! Go away!
The Power of Darkness
71
[Matryóna runs to Anísya in the porch. Nikita stops] I'll
kill you! I'll kill you all!
MATRYÓNA. That's because he's so frightened! Never
mind, it will pass !
they made me do?
crackled under me!
NIKITA. What have they made me do? What have
How it whimpered. . How it
What have they done with me?
. . And it's really alive, still alive! [Listens in silence]
It's whimpering . . . There, it's whimpering. [Runs to the
cellar].
MATRYÓNA [to Anísya] He's going; it seems he means
to bury it. Nikíta, you'd better take the lantern !
NIKITA [does not heed her, but listens by the cellar door]
I can hear nothing! I suppose it was fancy! [Moves away,
then stops] How the little bones crackled under me.
Krr kr . . . What have they made me do? [Listens
again] Again whimpering! It's really whimpering! What
can it be? Mother! Mother, I say! [Goes up to her].
MATRYÓNA. What is it, sonnie?
•
NIKITA. Mother, my own mother, I can't do any more!
Can't do any more! My own mother, have some pity on
me!
MATRYÓNA. 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
crackled, and how it whimpered! My own mother! What
have you done with me? [Steps aside and sits down on the
sledge].
MATRYÓNA. 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; when
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
NIKÍTA [rouses himself] Is there any drink left?
haps I can drink it off! [Exit].
Per-
Anísya, who has stood all the time by the door, silently makes
way for him.
MATRYÓNA. Go, go, honey, and I'll set to work! I'll go
down myself and dig! Where has he thrown the spade
to? [Finds the spade, and goes down into the cellar] Anísya,
come here! Hold the light, will you?
ANÍSYA. And what of him?
MATRYÓNA. 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.
Matryóna disappears into the cellar.
ANÍSYA [looking towards the door by which Nikíta 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!
MATRYÓNA [puts out her head] What is it, sonnie ?
NIKÍTA [listening] Don't bury it, it's alive! Don't you
hear? Alive! There-it's whimpering! There . . . quite
plain!
MATRYÓNA. How can it whimper? Why, you've flat-
tened it into a pancake! The whole head is smashed to
bits!
NIKÍTA. What is it then? [Stops his ears] It's still
whimpering! I am lost! Lost! What have they done
with me? . . .
Where shall I go?
[Sits down on the step].
Curtain.
1
VARIATION
Instead of the end of Act IV. (from the words,
“ANÍSYA. I'll find one. I know how to do it. [Exit]”) the
following variation may be 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.
Even tobacco don't
MÍTRITCH. Dear me! How they've made the place.
smell! Drat 'em! They've been spilling the fine stuff.
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,¹
don't put it out!
MÍTRITCH. Not put it out? Why?
NAN. Didn't you hear them rowing about in the yard?
[Listens] D'you hear, there in the barn again now?
MÍTRITCH. 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!
MÍTRITCH [laughs] All right, all right. [Sits down by her]
What's there to be afraid of?
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 . . . a little baby
is going to be born. . . . It's already born, I think. .
MÍTRITCH. 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?
MÍTRITCH. 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 oven].
NAN. It gave just one cry, and now there's nothing to
be heard.
MÍTRITCH. Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! What is it
you can't hear?
NAN. The baby.
MÍTRITCH. There is none, that's why you can't hear it.
NAN. But I heard it! May I die, I heard it! Such a
thin voice!
MÍTRITCH. 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?
MÍTRITCH. Why, just his very self! [Climbs up on to the
oven] The oven is beautifully warm to-night.
treat! Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas !
NAN. Daddy! are you going to sleep?
Quite a
MÍTRITCH. What else? Do you think I'm going to sing
songs?
Silence.
NAN. Daddy! Daddy, I say! They are digging! S'help
me, they're digging-don't you hear? May I die, they're
digging!
The Power of Darkness
75
MÍTRITCH. 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. .
s'help me, I won't. It's so frightful!
MÍTRITCH. 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!
asleep?
MÍTRITCH. Now then, what d'you want?
NAN. What's the bogey like?
MÍTRITCH. Why, like this!
Are you
When he finds such a one
comes with a sack and pops
as you, who won't sleep, he
the girl into it, then in he gets himself, head and all,
lifts her dress, and gives her a fine whipping!
NAN. What with?
MÍTRITCH. He takes a birch-broom with him.
NAN. But he can't see there-inside the sack!
MÍTRITCH. He'll see, no fear!
NAN. But I'll bite him.
MÍTRITCH. No, friend, him you can't bite!
NAN. Daddy, there's some one coming! Who is it? Oh
gracious goodness! Who can it be?
MÍTRITCH. Well, if some one's coming, let them come!
What's the matter with you? I suppose it's your mother!
Enter Anísya.
ANÍSYA. Nan! [Nan pretends to be asleep] Mítritch!
MÍTRITCH. What?
ANÍSYA. What's the lamp burning for? We are going
to sleep in the summer-hut.
MÍTRITCH. Why, you see I've only just got straight. I'll
put the light out all right.
76
The Power of Darkness
ANÍSYA [rummages in her box and grumbles] When a thing's
wanted one never can find it!
MÍTRITCH. Why, what is it you are looking for?
ANÍSYA. I'm looking for a cross.
unbaptized! It would be a sin, you know!
MÍTRITCH. Of course it would!
order.
Have you found it?
Suppose it were to die
Everything in due
ANÍSYA. Yes, I've found it. [Exit].
MÍTRITCH. 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!
MÍTRITCH. 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 !
MÍTRITCH. If it dies, they'll bury it!
NAN. But maybe it wouldn't have died, only old Granny
Matryóna's there! Didn't I hear what granny was saying?
May I die, I heard her !
MÍTRITCH. What did you hear? Go to sleep, I tell
you. Cover yourself up, head and all, and let's have an
end of it!
NAN. If it lived, I'd nurse it!
MÍTRITCH [roars] Oh Lord!
NAN. Where will they put it?
MÍTRITCH. 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! That girl, you know, you
were telling about-they didn't kill her?
MÍTRITCH. That girl? Oh yes. That girl turned out all
right!
NAN. How was it? You were saying you found her?
MÍTRITCH. Well, we just found her!
NAN. But where did you find her? Do tell!
MÍTRITCH. Why, in their own house; that's where! We
The Power of Darkness
77
came to a village, the soldiers began hunting about in the
house, when suddenly there's that same little girl lying
on the floor, 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!
head. It was so bristly,
stroked and stroked, and
soaked a bit of rusk and
that, and began nibbling. What were we to do with her?
We took her; took her, and began feeding and feeding
her, and 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 girl!
Well, so I began stroking her
just like a hedgehog! So I
she quieted down at last. I
gave it her. She understood
NAN. Yes, and not baptized?
MÍTRITCH. Who can tell! They used to say, not alto-
gether. 'Cos why, those people weren't our own.
NAN. Germans ?
We
MÍTRITCH. What an idea! Germans! 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?1
called the girl Sáshka. She was a fine girl, Sáshka 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.
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!
1 Probably Kurds.
That's all
78
}
The Power of Darkness
NAN. There now, daddy, and I remember when father
was dying,—you were not living with us then. Well, he
called Nikíta and says, "Forgive me, Nikíta!” he says,
and begins to cry. [Sighs] That also felt very sad!
MÍTRITCH. 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].
MÍTRITCH [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!
MÍTRITCH. 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?
of
MÍTRITCH. Who can tell. I suppose so.
Well?
NAN. Oh, it would be best if I died too. [Whimpers].
MÍTRITCH. 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!
MÍTRITCH. And how to the bad? How should the likes
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 peasant 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
MÍTRITCH. 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! 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!
MÍTRITCH. 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-yours is the stupidest class! The most
foolish class is yours!
NAN. Then what's one to do?
MÍTRITCH. That's what one has to do. . . . You just
cover up your head and sleep! Oh Lord!
Silence. The cricket chirps.
NAN [jumps up] Daddy! Some one's screaming awfully!
S'help me, some one's screaming! Daddy darling, it's
coming here !
MÍTRITCH. Cover up your head, I tell you!
Enter Nikita, followed by Matryóna.
NIKITA. What have they done with me? What have
they done with me?
MATRYÓNA. Have a drop, honey; have a drop of drink!
What's the matter? [Fetches the spirits and sets the bottle
before him].
80
The Power of Darkness
NIKITA. Give it here! Perhaps the drink will help me!
MATRYÓNA. 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!
MATRYÓNA [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
crackled . . . krr . . . I'm not a man now!
MATRYÓNA. 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 from me! What have you done with
me?
MATRYÓNA. Come, come, sonnie!
Now really, what's
the matter with you? [Takes his hand].
NIKÍTA. Go away from me! I'll kill you! It's all one
to me now! I'll kill you!
MATRYÓNA. Oh, oh, how frightened he's got! You
should go and have a sleep now!
NIKITA. I have nowhere to go; I'm lost!
MATRYÓNA [shaking her head] Oh, oh, I'd better go and
side things away. He'll sit and rest a bit, and it will pass!
[Exit].
Nikita sits with his face in his hands. Mítritch 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 Matryóna.
MATRYÓNA [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!
The Power of Darkness
81
NIKITA. Give me more drink! [Drinks].
MATRYÓNA. Now go, sonnie. You'll fall asleep now all
right.
NIKÍTA [stands listening] Still alive . . . there . . . it's
whining! Don't you hear?
hear? . . . There!
MATRYÓNA [whispers] No! I tell you!
NIKITA. 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; Matryóna follows him].
NAN. Daddy dear, darling, they've smothered it!
MÍTRITCH [angrily] Go to sleep, I tell you! Oh dear,
may the frogs kick you! I'll give it to you with the broom!
Go to sleep, I tell you!
NAN. Daddy, my treasure! Something is catching hold
of my shoulders, something is catching hold with its paws!
Daddy dear. may I die. . . I must go! Daddy,
darling! let me get up on the oven with you! Let me,
for Heaven's sake! Catching hold .
Catching hold . . . catching hold!
Oh! [Runs to the stove].
MÍTRITCH. See how they've frightened the girl.
What vile creatures they are!
Well then, climb up.
May the frogs kick them!
NAN [climbs on oven] But don't you go away!
MÍTRITCH. Where should I go to ? Climb up, climb
up! Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! Holy Mother! . .
How they have frighted the girl.
a little fool-really a little fool!
[Covers her up] There's
How they've frighted
her; really, they are vile creatures! The deuce take
'em!
Curtain.
F
>
ACT V
SCENE 1
In front of scene a stack-stand, to the left a thrashing ground,
to the right a barn. The barn doors are open. Straw is
strewn 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
barn 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 straw. First Girl looks at the straw and sees something]
What's that?
SECOND GIRL [looks where the straw lies and sees some one]
It's Mítritch, 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.¹
So I s'pose the bride and bridegroom have not yet been
blessed! They say Akoulína didn't even lament ! 2
FIRST GIRL. Mammie says she is marrying against her
1 This refers to the songs customary at the wedding of Russian
peasants, praising the bride and bridegroom.
2 It is etiquette for a bride to bewail the approaching loss of her
maidenhood.
82
The Power of Darkness
83
will. 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?
MARÍNA [catching up the Girls] How d'you do, lassies?
GIRLS. How d'you do?
MARÍNA. Going to the wedding, my dears?
FIRST GIRL. It's nearly over! We've come just to have
a look.
MARÍNA. Would you call my old man for me? Simon,
from Zoúevo; but surely you know him?
FIRST GIRL. To be sure we do; he's a relative of the
bridegroom's, I think?
MARÍNA. 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!
MARÍNA. 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 Fyódor-
itch's ?
and
MARÍNA. Yes. Well then, I'll stay here and you go
call him, my dear-my old man. Call him, my pet, and
say "Your missis, Marína, 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 of songs and tambourine.
MARÍNA [alone, stands thinking] 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
Anísya. 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! [Nikita approaches,
hanging his head down, swinging his arms, and muttering]
And how sullen he looks!
NIKITA [sees and recognises Marina] Marína, dearest
friend, little Marína, what do you want?
MARÍNA. 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!
MARÍNA. What have I to laugh at? I've come for my
husband.
NIKITA. Ah, Marína dear!
[Tries to embrace her].
I've come for
MARÍNA [steps angrily aside] You'd better drop that sort
of thing, Nikita! What has been, is past!
my husband. Is he in your house?
NIKITA. So I must not remember the past? You won't
let me?
MARÍNA. It's no use recalling the past! What used to
be is over now!
NIKITA. And can never come back, you mean?
MARÍNA. 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 straw] Why have I gone away?
Eh, if you knew, if you had any idea. . . I'm dull,
Marína, 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!
MARÍNA [coming nearer to him] How's that?
NIKITA. This is how it is: when I eat, it's there! When
The Power of Darkness
85
I drink, 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 Marína. I have no one to share my trouble.
MARÍNA. You can't live your life without trouble, Nikíta.
However, I've wept over mine and wept it away.
NIKITA. The former, the old trouble! Ah, dear friend,
you've wept yours away, and I've got mine up to there!
[Puts his hand to his throat].
MARÍNA. But why?
NIKITA. Why, I'm sick of my whole life! I am sick of
myself! Ah, Marína, why did you not know how to
keep me? You've ruined me, and yourself too! Is this
life?
MARÍNA [stands by the barn 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
old man at the time, and he forgave me. And he does
not reproach me. I'm not discontented with my life. The
old man is quiet, and is fond of me, and I keep 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
NIKÍTA. 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 straw] 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!
MARÍNA. 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 me!
I'm devoured by misery! Misery is eating me up com-
pletely, so that I care for nothing! Oh, little Marína, it's
only with you I ever lived! Do you remember how we
used to while away the nights together at the railway?
MARÍNA. 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.
NIKÍTA. What shall I do with my heart? Where am I
to turn to ?
MARÍNA. What's there to be done? You've got a wife.
Don't go looking at others, but keep to your own! You
loved Anísya, then go on loving her!
NIKITA. Oh, that Anísya, she's gall and wormwood to
me, but she's round my feet like rank weeds!
MARÍNA. 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.
NIKÍTA. Oh dear, if you knew the whole business
but there's no good talking!
Enter Marina's husband, red and tipsy, and Nan.
MARÍNA'S HUSBAND. Marína! Missis! My old woman!
are you here?
NIKÍTA. There's your husband calling you. Go!
MARÍNA. And you?
NIKITA. I? I'll lie down here for a bit! [Lies down 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.
MARÍNA [going towards her husband] I didn't want to
go in.
HUSBAND. Come on, I tell you! You'll drink a glass to
our nephew Peter's health, the rascal! Else the hosts
might take offence ! There's plenty of time for our
business. [Marina's husband puts his arm around her, and
goes reeling out with her].
NIKÍTA [rises and sits down on the straw] Ah, now that I've
seen her, life seems more sickening than ever! It was
The Power of Darkness
87
only with her that I ever really lived! I've ruined my
life for nothing! I've done for myself! [Lies down] Where
can I go? If mother earth would but open and swallow
me!
NAN [sees Nikita, and runs towards him] Daddy, I say,
daddy! They're looking for you! Her godfather and
all of them have already blessed her. May I die, they
have, they're getting cross!
NIKITA [aside] Where can I
go to?
NAN. What? What are you saying?
NIKÍTA. 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!
NIKÍTA [drags away 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 [rises] How can I go? How can I take the
holy icón in my hands? How am I to look her in
the face! [Lies down again] Oh, if there were a hole in the
ground, I'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 Matryóna.
•
·
Nikita sees his mother, takes the rope
off his neck, and again lies down in the straw.
MATRYÓNA [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, Nikíta dear; come,
honey! The people are tired of waiting.
NIKÍTA. Oh dear, what have you done with me? I'm a
lost man!
MATRYÓNA. 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. How can I give blessings?
But who
Don't you know?
is it I am to bless ?
MATRYÓNA. Why, in the usual way!
NIKITA. I know, I know!
What have I done to her?
MATRYÓNA. 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?
But still
MATRYÓNA. Because she's afraid, of course.
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!
NIKITA. Yes, but what's in the cellar?
MATRYÓNA [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?
MATRYÓNA. Now, what are you humbugging for?
NIKITA [turns face downward] Mother! Don't torment me!
I've got it up to there! [Puts his hand to his throat].
MATRYÓNA. 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 !
NIKÍTA. Oh dear! You have snared me into a trap!
MATRYÓNA. 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!
NIKITA [lies face down] I can't!
MATRYÓNA [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 Anísya
coming; she's left her guests!
So nice, so respect-
Anísya enters, dressed up, red and tipsy.
ANÍSYA. Oh, how nice it is, mother!
able! And how the people are pleased.
is he?
.. But where
MATRYÓNA. 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!
ANÍSYA. 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?
ANÍSYA. 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].
NIKITA [pulls it back with disgust] Go alone! I'll come!
ANÍSYA. What are you humbugging for? We've got rid
of all the bother, we've got rid of her as came between
us; now 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 Moséitch 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?
ANÍSYA. 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 best!
NIKITA [gets up and brushes the straw off himself] Go, and
I'll come at once!
MATRYÓNA. Just see! He listens to the young bird, but
wouldn't listen to the old one!
but he follows his wife at once!
He would not hear me,
[Matryóna and Anisya
turn to go] Well, are you coming?
NIKÍTA. I'll come directly! You go and I'll follow! I'll
come and give my blessing! [The women stop] Go on! I'll
follow! Now then, go! [Exit women. Sits down and takes
his boots 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 from 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, deep in my heart, and I can't get over it!
[Looks towards the yard] Surely she's not coming back?
[Imitates Anísya] "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].
Mítritch, who is tipsy, sits up and won't let go of the rope.
MÍTRITCH. 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!
MÍTRITCH. No, you wait a bit! The peasants sent me!.
I'll bring it. [Rises to his feet and begins getting the straw
•
The Power of Darkness
91
together, but reels for a time, then falls] It has beaten me.
It's stronger
•
NIKITA. Give me the rope!
can't
MÍTRITCH. Didn't I say I won't! Oh, Nikíta, you're as
stupid as a hog! [Laughs] I love you, but you're a fool!
You see that I'm drunk devil take you! You think
I need you? . . . You just look at me; I'm a Non . . . fool,
say it-Non-commissioned Officer of Her Majesty's
very First Regiment of Grenadier Guards! I've served
Tzar and country, loyal and true! But who am I? You
think I'm a warrior? No, I'm not a warrior; I'm the
very least of men, a poor lost orphan! I swore not to
drink, and now I had a smoke, and . . . Well then, do you
think I'm afraid of you? No fear; I'm afraid of no man!
I've taken to drink, and I'll drink! Now I'll go it for a
fortnight; I'll go it hard! I'll drink my last shirt; I'll
drink my cap; I'll pawn my passport; and I'm afraid of
no one! They flogged me in the army to stop me drink-
ing! They switched and switched! "Well," they say,
"will you leave off?" "No," says I!
afraid of them? Here I am! Such as I
I swore off drinking, and didn't drink.
drink, and I'll drink! And I fear no man! 'Cos I don't
lie; but just as . . . Why should one mind them-such
muck as they are! "Here you are," I say; that's me.
A priest told me, the devil's the biggest bragger!
soon," says he, "as you begin to brag, you get fright-
ened; and as soon as you fear men, then the hoofed one
just collars you and pushes you where he likes!" But
as I don't fear men, I'm easy! I can spit in the devil's
beard, and at the sow his mother! He can't do me no
harm! There, put that in your pipe!
Why should I be
am, God made me!
Now I've took to
"As
NIKÍTA [crossing himself] True enough! What was I
about? [Throws down the rope].
MÍTRITCH. What?
NIKÍTA [rises] You tell me not to fear men?
92
The Power of Darkness
MÍTRITCH. Why fear such muck as they are? You look
at 'em in the bath! All made of one paste! One has
a bigger belly, another a smaller; that's all the differ-
ence there is! Fancy being afraid of 'em! Deuce take
'em!
MATRYÓNA [from the yard] Well, are you coming?
NIKITA. Ah! Better so! I'm coming! [Goes towards
yard].
SCENE 2.
Interior of hut, full of people, some sitting round tables and
others standing. In the front corner Akoulína and the Bride-
groom. On one of the tables an Icón and a loaf of rye-bread.
Among the visitors are Marína, her husband, and a Police
Officer, also a Hired Driver, the Matchmaker, and the Best
Man. The women are singing. Anisya carries round the drink.
The singing stops.
THE DRIVER. If we are to go, let's go! The church ain't
so near.
THE BEST MAN. All right; you wait a bit till the step-
father has given his blessing. But where is he?
ANÍSYA. He is coming-coming at once, dear friends!
Have another glass all of you; don't refuse!
THE MATCHMAKER. Why is he so long? We've been
waiting such a time !
ANÍSYA. He's coming; coming directly, coming in no
time! He'll be here before one could plait a girl's hair
who's had her hair cropped! Drink, friends! [Offers the
drink] Coming at once! Sing again, my pets, meanwhile!
THE DRIVER. They've sung all their songs, waiting here!
The women sing. Nikita and Akim enter during the singing.
NIKITA [holds his father's arm and pushes him in before him]
Go, father; I can't do without you!
AKÍM. I don't like I mean what d'ye call it . . .
The Power of Darkness
93
NIKITA [to the women] Enough! Be quiet! [Looks round
the hut] Marína, are you there?
THE MATCHMAKER. Go, take the icón, and give them your
blessing!
NIKITA. Wait a while! [Looks round] Akoulína, are you
there?
MATCHMAKER. What are you calling everybody for?
Where should she be? How queer he seems!
Christian
ANÍSYA. Gracious goodness! Why, he's barefoot!
NIKÍTA. Father, you are here! Look at me!
Commune, you are all here, and I am here! I am
[Falls on his knees].
.
ANÍSYA. Nikita darling, what's the matter with you?
Oh my poor head!
MATCHMAKER. Here's a go!
MATRYÓNA. I did say he was taking too much of that
French wine! Come to your senses; what are you about?
They try to lift him; he takes no heed of them, but looks in
front of him.
NIKITA. Christian Commune! I have sinned, and I wish
to confess!
MATRYÓNA [shakes him by the shoulder] Are you mad?
Dear friends, he's gone crazy! He must be taken away!
NIKITA [shakes her off] Leave me alone! And you,
father, hear me! And first, Marína, look here! [Bows
to the ground to her and rises] I have sinned towards you!
I promised to marry you, I tempted you, and forsook
you! Forgive me, in Christ's name! [Again bows to the
ground before her].
ANÍSYA. And what are you drivelling about? It's not
becoming! No one wants to know! Get up! It's like
your impudence!
MATRYÓNA. Oh, oh, he's bewitched! And however did
it happen? It's a spell! Get up! what nonsense are
you jabbering? [Pulls him].
NIKITA [shakes his head] Don't touch me! Forgive me
94
The Power of Darkness
my sin towards you, Marína ! Forgive me, for Christ's
sake!
Marína covers her face with her hands in silence.
Anísya. Get up, I tell you! Don't be so impudent!
What are you thinking about-to recall it? Enough
humbug! It's shameful! Oh my poor head! He's
quite crazy!
NIKITA [pushes his wife away and turns to Akoulina]
Akoulína, now I'll speak to you! Listen, Christian Com-
mune'! I'm a fiend, Akoulína! I have sinned against
you! Your father died no natural death!
poisoned !
He was
ANÍSYA [screams] Oh my head! What's he about?
MATRYÓNA. The man's beside himself! Lead him away!
The folk come up and try to seize him.
AKÍM [motions them back with his arms] Wait! You lads,
what d'ye call it, wait, I mean!
NIKÍTA. Akoulína, I poisoned him! Forgive me, in
Christ's name!
AKOULÍNA [jumps up] He's telling lies! I know who
did it!
MATCHMAKER. What are you about? You sit still!
AKÍM. Oh Lord, what sins, what sins!
POLICE OFFICER. Seize him, and send for the Elder! We
must draw up an indictment and have witnesses to it!
Get up and come here!
AKIM [to Police Officer] Now you-with the bright but-
tons-I mean, you wait! Let him, what d'ye call it,
speak out, I mean!
POLICE OFFICER. Mind, old man, and don't interfere! I
have to draw up an indictment!
AKÍM. Eh, what a fellow you are; wait, I say! Don't
talk, I mean, about, what d'ye call it, 'ditements! Here
God's work is being done. . . . A man is confessing, I
mean! And you, what d'ye call it . . . 'ditements!
POLICE OFFICER. The Elder!
The Power of Darkness
95
AKÍM. Let God's work be done, I mean, and then you,
I mean, you do your business!
NIKITA. And, Akoulína, my sin is great towards you; I
seduced you; forgive me in Christ's name! [Bows to the
ground before her].
AKOULÍNA [leaves the table] Let me go! I shan't be
married! He told me to, but I shan't now
!
POLICE OFFICER. Repeat what you have said.
NIKITA. Wait, sir, let me finish !
AKÍм [with rapture] Speak, my son! Tell everything-
you'll feel better! Confess to God, don't fear men! God
-God! It is He!
NIKITA. I poisoned the father, dog that I am, and I
ruined the daughter! She was in my power, and I
ruined her, and her baby!
AKOULÍNA. True, that's true!
NIKÍTA. I smothered the baby in the cellar with a board!
I sat on it and smothered it-and its bones crunched!
[Weeps] And I buried it! I did it, all alone!
AKOULÍNA. He raves! I told him to!
NIKITA. Don't shield me! I fear no one now! Forgive
me, Christian Commune! [Bows to the ground].
Silence.
POLICE OFFICER. Bind him! The marriage is evidently
off!
Men come up with their belts.
NIKITA. Wait, there's plenty of time! [Bows to the ground
before his father] Father, dear father, forgive me too,-
fiend that I am! You told me from the first, when I
took to bad ways, you said then, "If a claw is caught,
the bird is lost!" I would not listen to your words, dog
that I was, and it has turned out as you said! Forgive me,
for Christ's sake!
AKÍM [rapturously] God will forgive you, my own son!
[Embraces him] You have had no mercy on yourself, He
will show mercy on you! God-God! It is He!
96
The Power of Darkness
Enter Elder.
ELDER. There are witnesses enough here.
POLICE OFFICER. We will have the examination at once.
Nikita is bound.
AKOULÍNA [goes and stands by his side] I shall tell the
truth! Ask me!
NIKITA [bound] No need to ask! I did it all myself.
The design was mine, and the deed was mine. Take me
where you like. I will say no more!
Curtain.
END OF
THE POWER OF DARKNESS."
THE FIRST DISTILLER
A COMEDY IN SIX ACTS
(1887)
G
THE FIRST DISTILLER
A COMEDY
ACT I
PEASANT [ploughing. Looks up] It's noon. Time to un-
harness. Gee up, get along! Fagged out? Poor old
beast! One more turn and back again, that will be the
last furrow, and then dinner. It was a good idea to bring
that chunk of bread with me. I'll not go home, but sit
down by the well and have a bite and a rest, and Peggy
can graze awhile. Then, with God's help, to work again,
and the ploughing will be done in good time.
Enter Imp; hides behind a bush.
IMP. See what a good fellow he is! Keeps calling on
God. Wait a bit, friend,-you'll be calling on the Devil
before long! I'll just take away his chunk. He'll miss
it before long, and will begin to hunt for it. He'll be
hungry, and then he'll swear and call on the Devil.
Takes the chunk of bread and sits down behind the bush
watching to see what the Peasant will do.
PEASANT [unharnesses the horse] With God's blessing!
[Lets the horse loose, and goes towards the place where his
coat is lying] I'm awfully hungry. The wife cut a big
chunk, but see if I don't eat it all. [Coming up to the coat]
Gone! I must have put it under the coat. [Lifting the
coat] No, it's not here either!
What has happened?
[Shakes the coat].
*
99
ΙΟΟ
The First Distiller
IMP [behind the bush] Go on, go on, search away! I've
got it safe!
No
PEASANT [moves the plough and shakes his coat again] This
is strange! Very strange! No one was here, yet the chunk
is gone! If the birds had been at it there would be
some crumbs left, but there's not a single crumb!
one has been here, and yet some one has taken it!
IMP [rises and looks out] Now he'll call on the Devil.
PEASANT. Well, it seems there's no help for it! Never
mind, I shan't starve to death. If some one has taken it,
he's taken it; let him eat it, and may it do him good.
IMP [spits] Oh, the damned peasant! Instead of swear-
ing properly, he only says, "May it do him good." What
can one do with such a fellow?
Peasant lies down to rest, makes the sign of the cross, yawns,
and falls asleep.
IMP [comes out from behind the bush] It's all very well
for the boss to talk. The boss keeps on saying, "You
don't bring enough peasants to Hell! See what a lot of
tradesmen, gentlefolk, and all sorts of people flock in
every day, and how few peasants!" Now, how's one
to get round this one? There's no way of getting hold
of him. Haven't I stolen his last crust? What can I do
better than that? And yet he didn't swear.
I'm at my
wits' end what to do! Well, I must go and report!
Disappears into the ground.
Curtain.
2
ACT II
Hell. The Chief of the Devils sits in the highest place. The
Devil's Secretary sits lower down, at a table with writing
materials. Sentinels stand at each side. To the right are
five Imps of different kinds. To the left, by the door, the
Doorkeeper. A dandified Imp stands before the Chief.
THE DANDY IMP. The whole of my booty for the three
years has been 220,005 men. They're all in my power
now.
THE CHIEF. All right. Thank you. Pass on.
The Dandy Imp goes to the right.
THE CHIEF [to the Secretary] I'm tired! Is there much
business left? Whose reports have we had, and whose
are still to come?
THE SECRETARY [counts on his fingers and, as he counts,
points to the Imps to the right. When he mentions any Imp,
the one referred to bows] We've had the Gentlefolks' Devil's
report. He's captured 1836 in all. And the Tradesmen's
Devil's with 9643. From the Lawyers', 3423. The Women's
we' ve also just had: 186,315 married women, and 17,438
maids. Only two Devils are left, the Officials' and the
Peasants'. There are altogether 220,005 souls on the
list.
CHIEF. Well then, we'd better finish it all to-day. [To
the Doorkeeper] Let them in!
The Officials' Devil enters, and bows to the Chief.
CHIEF. Well, how have you got on?
OFFICIALS' IMP [laughing, and rubbing his hands] My affairs
are all right, just as soot they are white! The booty is
ΙΟΙ
102
The First Distiller
such that I don't remember anything like it since the
creation of the world.
Only
CHIEF. What, have you captured a great many?
OFFICIALS' IMP. It's not so much the quantity.
1350 men in all, but such splendid fellows! Such fellows,
they might shame any Devil! They can embroil people
better than we ourselves can. I've introduced a new
fashion among them.
CHIEF. What's that new fashion?
OFFICIALS' IMP. Why, in former times lawyers were in
attendance on the judges and deceived people. Now, I've
arranged for them to do business also apart from the judges.
Whoever pays most, to his business they attend. And
they'll take such trouble over it that they'll make out
a case where there is none !1 They, and the officials be-
tween them, embroil people far better than we Devils can.
CHIEF. All right. I'll have a look at them.
pass on.
The Officials' Imp goes to the right.
CHIEF [to Doorkeeper] Let in the last one.
You may
Enter the Peasants' Imp with the chunk of bread. He bows
to the ground.
PEASANTS' IMP. I can't live like this any longer! Give
me another appointment!
CHIEF. What appointment? What are you jabbering
about? Get up and talk sense. Give in your report!
How many peasants have you captured this week?
PEASANTS' IMP [crying] Not one!
CHIEF. What? Not one! What do you mean? What
have you been doing? Where have you been loafing?
PEASANTS' IMP [whimpering] I've not been loafing; I've
been straining every nerve all the time, but I can't do
anything! There now, I went and took his last crust
from under the very nose of one of them, and, instead of
swearing, he wished it might do me good!
¹ A hit at the working of judicial reforms.
The First Distiller
103
CHIEF. What? . . . What? . . . What are you mumbling
there? You blow your nose, and then speak sensibly!
One can't make head or tail of what you're saying.
PEASANTS' IMP. Why, there was a peasant ploughing;
and I knew he had brought only a chunk of bread with
him, and had nothing else to eat. I stole his crust. By
rights he should have sworn; but what does he do? He
says, "Let him who has taken it eat it, and may it do him
good!" I've brought the chunk of bread away with me.
Here it is!
CHIEF. Well, and what of the others?
PEASANTS' IMP. They're all alike. I could not manage
to take a single one.
CHIEF. How dare you appear before me with empty
hands? And as if that were not enough, you must needs
bring some stinking crust or other here! Do you mean to
mock me? Do you mean to live in Hell and eat the bread
of idleness? The others do their best, and work hard!
Why, they [points to the Imps] have each supplied 10,000
or 20,000, or even 200,000. And you come with empty
hands, and bring a miserable crust, and begin spinning
your yarns. You chatter, but don't work; and that's why
you've lost hold of them. But wait a bit, my friend, I'll
teach you a thing or two!
PEASANTS' IMP. Before you punish me, listen to what I'll
tell you.
It's all very well for those other Devils, who
have to do with gentlefolk, with merchants, or with
women. It's all plain sailing for them! Show a nobleman
a coronet, or a fine estate, and you've got him, and may
lead him where you like. It's the same with a tradesman.
Show him some money and stir up his covetousness, and
you may lead him as with a halter. And with the women
it's also plain sailing. Give them finery and sweets—and
you may do what you like with them. But as to the
peasants—there's a long row to hoe with them! When
he's at work from morn till night-sometimes even far
I04
The First Distiller
into the night—and never starts without a thought of God,
how's one to get at him? Master, remove me from these
peasants! I'm tired to death of them, and have angered
you into the bargain!
CHIEF. You're humbugging, you idler! It's no use
your talking about the others. They've got hold of the
merchants, the nobles, and the women, because they knew
how to treat them, and invented new traps for them! The
official one there he has made quite a new departure.
You must think of something too! You've stolen a crust,
and brag about it! What a clever thing to do! Surround
them with snares, and they'll get caught in one or other
of them. But loafing about as you do, and leaving the
way open for them, those peasants of yours have gained
strength. They begin not to care about their last crust.
If they take to such ways, and teach their women the
same, they'll get quite beyond us! Invent something!
Get out of the hole as best you can.
PEASANTS' IMP. I can't think how to set about it. Let
me off! I can stand it no longer!
CHIEF [angrily] Can't stand it! What do you think,
then? Am I to do your work for you?
PEASANTS' IMP. I can't!
CHIEF. Can't? Wait a bit! Hollo, there! bring the
switches; give him a thrashing.
The Sentinels seize the Imp and whip him.
PEASANTS' IMP. Oh! Oh! Oh!.
CHIEF. Have you thought of something?
PEASANTS' IMP. Oh, oh, I can't!
CHIEF. Give him some more. [They whip] Well-thought
of something?
PEASANTS' IMP. Yes yes, I have!
CHIEF. Well, tell us what it is.
PEASANTS' IMP. I've invented a dodge that will bring
them all into my grasp, if you'll only let me take a
The First Distiller
105
labourer's place with that peasant. But I can't explain
what it is beforehand.
CHIEF. All right. Only remember, that if you don't
atone for that crust within three years, I'll flay you alive!
PEASANTS' IMP. They'll all be mine in three years' time.
CHIEF. All right. When the three years are past, I
shall come and see for myself!
Curtain.
ACT III
A barn. Carts loaded with grain. The Imp as a Labourer.
He is shovelling grain off the cart, and the Peasant is carrying
it away in a measure.
LABOURER. Seven!
PEASANT. How many quarters ?
LABOURER [looks at the numbers marked on the barn door]
Twenty-six quarters. And this is the seventh bushel of
the twenty-seventh quarter.
PEASANT. It won't all go in; the barn is nearly full !
LABOURER. Shovel it nice and even.
PEASANT. So I will.
Exit with measure.
LABOURER [alone, takes off his cap, his horns appear] It will
be some time before he returns. I'll ease my horns a bit.
[Horns rise] And I'll take my boots off too; I can't do it
when he's here. [Takes his boots off, his hoofs appear. Sits
on the threshold] It's the third year now. It's near the
time of reckoning. There's more corn than there's room
for. Only one more thing left to teach him, and then let
the Chief come and see for himself. I'll have something
worth showing him! He'll forgive me for that crust!
Neighbour approaches. Labourer hides his horns and hoofs.
NEIGHBOUR. Good day to you.
LABOURER. The same to you.
NEIGHBOUR. Where's your master?
LABOURER. He's gone to spread the grain more even; it
won't all go in.
NEIGHBOUR. Dear me, what a run of luck your master is
106
The First Distiller
107
Last year
Others had
having! More than he has room for? We're all amazed
at the harvests your master has had these two years. It's
as if some one had told him what was coming.
was a dry season, and he had sown in the bog.
no harvest, but your threshing ground was covered with
sheaves! This year we've a rainy summer, and he's been
sharp enough to sow on the hill. Everybody's corn has
rotted, but you have a splendid harvest. What grain'
Ah, what grain !
Takes some grain, weighs it in his hand, and chews it.
PEASANT [enters with empty measure] How d'ye do, neigh-
bour?
NEIGHBOUR. Good day. I was saying to your man here,
how well you managed to guess where to sow your corn.
Every one envies you. What heaps, what heaps of corn
you have got! You'll not eat it all in ten years.
PEASANT. It's all thanks to Nicholas here. [Points to
Labourer] It was his luck. Last year I sent him to plough,
and what did he do but plough in the bog. I gave him a
scolding, but he persuaded me to sow there. And so I
did, and it turned out all for the best! And this year he
again guessed right, and sowed on the hill!
NEIGHBOUR. It's as if he knew what kind of season it
would be, Yes, you have got corn enough and no mistake!
[Silence] And I have come to ask you to lend me a sack
Ours is all used up. I'll return it next year.
of rye.
PEASANT. All right, you may have it.
LABOURER [nudging the Peasant] Don't give it!
PEASANT. No more words about it. Take it.
NEIGHBOUR. Thank you. I'll just run and fetch a sack.
LABOURER [aside] He keeps to his old ways
goes on giving. He doesn't always obey me.
wait a bit. He'll soon stop giving away.
Exit Neighbour.
•
. . still
But just
PEASANT [sitting down on the threshold] Why should one
not give to a good man?
108
The First Distiller
LABOURER. Giving is one thing, getting back another!
You know-
"It's a good world to lend in, a good world to spend in,
But to get back one's own, it's the worst world that's known."
That's what the old folk say.
PEASANT. Don't worry. We've plenty of corn.
LABOURER. Well, what of that?
PEASANT. We've enough, not only till next harvest but
for two years ahead. What are we to do with it all?
LABOURER. What are we to do with it? I could make
such stuff of this corn as would make you rejoice all the
days of your life.
PEASANT. Why, what would you make of it?
LABOURER. A kind of drink. Drink, that would give
you strength when you are weak, satisfy you when you
are hungry, give you sleep when you are restless, make
you merry when you're sad, give you courage when you're
afraid. That's the drink I'd make !
PEASANT. Rubbish!
LABOURER. Rubbish indeed! It was just the same when
I told you to sow in the bog, and then on the hill. You
did not believe me then, but now you know!
find out about the drink the same way.
PEASANT. But what will you make it of?
LABOURER. Why, of this same corn.
PEASANT. But won't that be a sin?
You'll
LABOURER. Just hear him! Why should it be a sin?
Everything is given for a joy to man.
PEASANT. And where did you get all your wisdom from,
Nick? You seem a very ordinary man to look at, and
hard-working too. Why, I don't remember you so much
as ever taking your boots off all these two years you've been
with me. And yet you seem to know everything. Where
did you learn it?
LABOURER. I've been about a good deal!
The First Distiller
109
PEASANT. And so you say this drink will give one
strength?
LABOURER. Just wait till you try it and see the good
that comes of it.
PEASANT. And how are we to make it?
LABOURER. It's not hard to make when you know how!
Only we shall want a copper and a couple of iron vessels.
PEASANT. And does it taste nice?
LABOURER. As sweet as honey. When once you've tasted
it you'll never give it up.
PEASANT. Is that so? Well, I'll go to the neighbour's ;
he used to have a copper.
We'll have a try!
Curtain.
ACT IV
A barn. In the middle a closed copper on the fire, with an-
other vessel, under which is a tap.
LABOURER [holds a tumbler under the tap and drinks the
spirit] Well, master, it's ready now.
PEASANT [sitting on his heels and looking on] What a queer
thing. Here's water coming out of the mixture. Why
are you letting this water off first?
LABOURER. It's not water. It is the very stuff itself!
PEASANT. Why is it so clear? I thought it would be
yellow like grain. This is just like water.
LABOURER. But you just smell it !
PEASANT. Ah, what a scent! Well, well, let's see what
it's like in the mouth. Let me taste! [Tries to take the
tumbler out of the Labourer's hand].
LABOURER. Mind, you'll spill it! [Turns the tap off,
drinks and smacks his lips] It's ready! Here you are.
Drink it!
PEASANT [drinks, first sipping, then taking more and more,
till he empties the glass and gives it back] Now then, some
One can't tell the taste from such a drop.
more.
LABOURER [laughing] Well, you seem to like it! [Draws
some more].
PEASANT [drinks] Eh, that's the sort! Let's call the
missis. Hey, Martha! Come along! It's ready! Come
on there!
Enter Wife and little girl.
WIFE. What's the matter? Why are you kicking up
such a row ?
110
The First Distiller
III
PEASANT. You just taste what we've been distilling.
[Hands her the glass] Smell! What does it smell of?
WIFE [smells] Dear me !
PEASANT. Drink!
WIFE. But perhaps it may do one some harm?
PEASANT. Drink, fool!
WIFE. True. It is nice!
PEASANT [a little tipsy Nice indeed! You wait and see
what'll happen. Nick says it drives all weariness out of
one's bones. The young grow old. I mean, the old
grow young. There now, I've only had two glasses of it,
and all my bones have got easy. [Swaggers] You see?
Wait a bit, when you and I drink it every day we'll grow
young again! Come, Martha! [Embraces her].
WIFE. Get along. Why, it's made you quite silly.
PEASANT. There, you see! You said Nick and I were
wasting the corn, but just see what stuff we've con-
cocted. Eh? It's good, ain't it?
WIFE. Of course, it's good if it makes the old young
again. Just see how jolly it has made you! And I feel
jolly too! Now then, join in! Ah . . . Ah . . . Ah . . .
Ah.. Ah..
[Sings].
PEASANT. Yes, that's the way! We'll all be young, all
young.
WIFE. We must call mother-in-law, for she's always sad
and grumbling. She needs renewing. When she's younger
she'll get kinder.
Call her here, and
PEASANT [tipsy] Yes, call mother.
grandfather too. I say, Mary, run and call your granny
and great-grandfather. Tell him he must get down from
the oven! We'll make him young again. Now then,
quick! One, two, three, and away! Off like a shot!
[Girl runs off. To Wife] We'll have another glass.
Labourer fills and hands the glasses.
PEASANT [drinks] At first we got young at the top, in the
tongue; then it went down into the arms. Now it has
I 12
The First Distiller
reached the feet. I feel my feet getting younger. They're
moving of themselves. [Starts dancing].
WIFE [drinks] You're a real clever 'un, Nick! Now then,
strike up!
Labourer takes a balaláyka¹ and plays. Peasant and Wife
dance.
LABOURER [plays in the foreground of the scene, laughing
and winking as he watches them. Then he leaves off playing,
but they still continue to dance] You'll pay for that crust!
You've done it now, my fine fellows. They'll never get
out of it. The Chief can come when he likes now!
Enter a fresh-looking elderly woman, and a very old white-
haired man, the Peasant's Grandfather.
GRANDFATHER. What's the matter? Have you gone
mad? Dancing while every one else is at work!
WIFE [dances and claps her hands] Oh-Oh—Oh—
[Sings]
"That I'm sinning I will own,
Free from sin is God alone !"
OLD WOMAN. Oh, you wretch! The oven's not cleaned
out yet, and here you are dancing!
PEASANT. Wait a bit, mother. See what has been hap-
pening here. We can make old people young again! Here
you are! Just drink this! [Passes tumbler].
OLD WOMAN. There's plenty of water in the well. [Smells
it] But what have you put in? My-what a smell !
PEASANT. You just drink it.
But won't one die of it?
OLD WOMAN [tastes] Dear me!
WIFE. It will make you more alive. You'll grow young
again !
OLD WOMAN. Nonsense! [Drinks] But it's nice! Better
than our drinks. Here, father, have some too.
Grandfather sits down and shakes his head.
¹ The balalayka is an instrument (generally three-stringed) used
by Russian peasants, and answering to the negroes' banjo.
The First Distiller
113
LABOURER. Never mind him. But granny must have
another glass. [Hands some to the old woman].
OLD WOMAN. If only no harm comes of it. Oh dear, it
does burn! But it is nice.
WIFE. Drink it! Then you'll feel it running through
your veins.
OLD WOMAN. Well, I suppose I'll have to try. [Drinks].
WIFE. Has it reached your feet yet?
I
old woman. True enough, it does run through you.
feel it here now! And it really makes one feel quite
light. Come-give me some more. [Drinks again] Fine!
Now I'm quite young again.
PEASANT. Didn't I tell you ?
OLD WOMAN. Ah, it's a pity my old man is no longer
here. He might have seen once more what I was like in
my young days.
Labourer plays. Peasant and Wife dance.
OLD WOMAN [comes into the middle] Do you call that danc-
ing? Let me show you. [Dances] That's the way! Then
like this, and like that! Do you see?
Grandfather goes up to the vessel and lets the spirit run out
on to the ground.
PEASANT [notices and rushes at his Grandfather] What are
you up to, you old fool? Spilling such fine stuff! Oh,
you old dotard! [Pushes him away and holds tumbler under
tap] You've emptied it all!
GRANDFATHER. It's evil and not good! God has sent you
a good harvest for you to feed yourself and others, but you
have turned the corn into devils' drink. No good will
come of it. Give up this business. Else you'll perish and
ruin others! You think this is drink? It's fire, and will
burn you up! [Takes a brand from the fire and lights the spilt
spirit. The spirit burns. They all look on with horror].
Curtain.
H
ACT V
Interior of hut. The Labourer alone, his horns and hoof's
showing.
LABOURER. There's lots of corn. More than there's
room for, and he's now got a taste for it. We've been
distilling again, and we've filled a barrel and hidden it
away. We're not going to treat any one for nothing, but
when we want to get something out of a fellow, then we'll
treat him! So to-day I told him to invite the village
elders and treat them, that they should divide up the
property between him and his grandfather, and give
everything to him and nothing to the old man! My three
years are up to-day, and my work is finished. Let the
Chief come and see for himself. I needn't be ashamed of
his seeing it!
Chief appears out of the ground.
Have
CHIEF. Time's up! Have you redeemed your bread-
blunder? I told you I'd come and see for myself.
you managed the Peasant?
LABOURER. Done him completely!
Some of them will meet here soon.
Judge for yourself.
Get into the oven,
The Wife follows.
The Wife lays the cloth,
and see what they'll do. You'll be well satisfied!
CHIEF [climbs into the oven] We'll see!
Enter the Peasant and four old men.
The men sit down round the table.
sets ox-foot brawn and pies on the table.
greetings with Labourer.
The old men exchange
FIRST ELDER. Well, have you made more of the drink?
114
The First Distiller
115
LABOURER. Yes, we've distilled as much as we need.
Why let valuable stuff be wasted?
SECOND ELDER. And is it a success?
LABOURER. Better than the first lot.
SECOND Elder. But where did you learn to make it?
LABOURER. Going about in the world one learns many
things!
THIRD ELDER. Yes, yes, you're a knowing fellow.
Wife brings spirits and glasses.
PEASANT. Have a drop!
Wife takes a decanter and fills glasses.
WIFE. Do us the honour!
FIRST ELDER [drinks] Your health!
runs right through all one's joints.
proper drink!
Ah, that's good. It
That's what I call
The other three Elders do the same. Chief gets out of the
oven. Labourer goes and stands by him.
LABOURER [to Chief] See what will happen now! I'll
trip up the woman with my foot and she'll spill the
liquor. Formerly he did not grudge his last crust, but
now see what he'll do about a glass of spirits!
PEASANT. Now then, wife, fill again and hand it round
in due order-first to our friend here, then to Daddy
Michael.
Wife fills a glass and goes round the table. The Labourer
trips her up; she stumbles and upsets the glass.
WIFE. Gracious goodness, I've spilt it! Why do you
get in my way, confound you?
PEASANT [to Wife] There now, what a clumsy beast! Her
fingers are all thumbs, and she goes swearing at others!
See what fine stuff she goes spilling on the ground!
WIFE. I didn't do it on purpose.
PEASANT. On purpose indeed! Wait till I get up; I'll
teach you how to pour spirits on the ground. [To Labourer]
And you too, you confounded fool, what are you pranc-
ing round the table for? Go to the Devil!
116
The First Distiller
Wife again fills and hands the glasses round.
LABOURER [goes back to the oven to the Chief] You see?
Formerly he did not grudge his last crust, and now for a
glass of spirits he nearly beat his wife and sent me to you
-to the Devil!
CHIEF. It's good, very good! I'm satisfied.
LABOURER. You wait a bit. Let them empty the bottle
-and you'll see what will happen. Even now they are
giving each other smooth oily words; presently they'll
start flattering each other, as cunning as foxes.
PEASANT. Well, old friends, what's your opinion of my
business? My grandfather has been living with me, and
I have been feeding him and feeding him, and now he's
gone to live with my uncle, and wants to take his share
of the property and give it to uncle! Consider it well;
you are wise men. We could as well do without our own
heads as without you. There's no one in the whole village
to come near you.
Take you for example, Iván Fedótitch
-doesn't every one say you're first among men?
as for me, I'll tell you the truth, Iván Fedótitch, I'm
fonder of you than of my own father or mother. As for
Michael Stepánitch, he's an old friend.
And
FIRST ELDER [to Peasant] It's good to talk with a good
It's the way to get wisdom. It's just the same
with you.
One can't find any one to compare with you
man.
either.
SECOND ELDER. Wise and affectionate-that's what I like
you for.
THIRD ELDER. You have my best sympathy. I can't
find words to express it. I was saying to my old woman
only to-day...
FOURTH ELDER. A friend, a real friend !
LABOURER [nudges the Chief] Do you hear? All lies!
They abuse one another behind their backs, but see how
thick they are laying it on now,-like foxes wagging their
tails! And it all comes from that drink.
The First Distiller
117
CHIEF. That drink is good, very good!
good, very good! If they take to
Very good; I'm
lying like that, they'll all be ours.
satisfied!
LABOURER. Wait a bit. When they've finished a second
bottle it will be better still!
WIFE [serves] Do have another glass.
FIRST ELDER. Won't it be too much? Your health!
[Drinks] It's pleasant to drink in the company of a good
man.
SECOND ELDER. How can one help drinking? Health
to the host and hostess!
third elder. Friends, your health !
FOURTH ELDER. This is a brew of the right sort!
be merry!
Let's
We'll arrange things for you. 'Cos it all
depends on me!
FIRST ELDER. On you? No, not on you, but on what
your seniors say.
fourth Elder. My seniors are greater fools. Go where
you came from!
'Cos why?
He means
SECOND ELDER. What are you up to now? You fool!
THIRD ELDER. It's true what he's saying!
The host is not entertaining us for nothing.
business. The business can be arranged. Only you must
stand treat! Show us due respect. 'Cos it's you as wants
me, and not I you! You're own brother to the pig!
PEASANT. And you're itself! What are you yelling for?
Think to surprise me? You are all good at stuffing
yourselves!
FIRST ELDER. What are you giving yourself airs for?
See if I don't twist your nose to one side!
PEASANT. We'll see whose nose will get twisted!
SECOND ELDER. Think yourself such a marvel? Go to
the Devil! I won't speak to you-I'll go away!
PEASANT [holds him] What, will you break
pany?
up
SECOND ELDER. Let me go, or I'll call for help!
the com-
!
}
I
!
[
:
1
}
:
[
}
118
The First Distiller
PEASANT. I won't! What right have you to . . .?
SECOND ELDER. This right! [Beats him].
PEASANT [to the other Elders] Help me!
They fall on one another, and all speak at once.
FIRST ELDER. That's why. 'Cos it means we're all having
a spree-ee !
SECOND ELDER. I can arrange everything!
THIRD ELDER. Let's have some more!
PEASANT [to Wife] Bring another bottle!
All sit round the table again and drink.
LABOURER [to Chief] Have you noticed?
The wolf's
blood in them was aroused, and they've turned as fierce as
wolves.
CHIEF. The drink is good! I'm satisfied!
LABOURER. Wait a bit. Let them empty a third bottle.
Things will be better still!
Curtain.
ACT VI
The scene represents a village street. To the right some old
women are sitting on logs of wood with the Grandfather. In
the centre, is a ring of women, girls, and lads. Dance music
is played and they dance. Noise is heard from the hut, and
drunken screams. An old man comes out and shouts in a tipsy
voice. The Peasant follows him and leads him back.
GRANDFATHER. Ah, what doings! what doings! One
would think, what more would any one want than to do
his work on week days, and when Sunday comes round,
to have a good wash, clean the harness, and rest a bit and
sit with his family; or go outside and have a talk with
the old folk about matters concerning the Commune.
Or, if you're young, have a game. There they are playing,
-and it's pleasant to look at them. It's all pleasant and
good. [Screams inside the hut] But this sort of thing, what
is it? It only leads men astray, and pleases the Devils.
And it all comes of fat living!
Tipsy men come tumbling out of the hut, shout, and catch
hold of the girls.
GIRLS. Leave off, Daddy Tom! What do you mean by it?
LADS. Let's go into the lane. It's impossible to play here.
Exeunt all who were playing in the ring.
PEASANT [goes up to Grandfather] What have you got
now? The Elders will allot everything to me! [Snaps
his fingers at him] That's what you'll get! So there you
are! It's all mine and you've nothing! They'll tell you
so themselves!
The four Elders speak all at once.
FIRST ELDER. 'Cos I know what's what !
119
120
The First Distiller
SECOND ELDER.
"'Fore all I'll be heard,
'Cos I'm an old bird!”
THIRD ELDER. Friend! dear friend, dearest friend!
FOURTH ELDER.
"Jog along hut, jog along bed,
The missis has nowhere to lay down her head!"
Now then, come along!
The Elders take each other's arms in couples and go off
reeling, one couple following the other. The Peasant turns
back to the hut, but stumbles before he reaches it,—falls down,
and lies muttering incomprehensible words that sound like grunts.
The Grandfather and those he was with, rise and exeunt.
Enter Labourer and Chief of Devils.
LABOURER. Did you see? Now the swine's blood has
been roused in them, and from wolves they have turned
into swine! [Points to Peasant] There he lies in the dirt
and grunts like a hog!
First like foxes, then like
Well, that is a drink!
CHIEF. You have succeeded!
But
wolves, and now like swine!
tell me, how did you make it? I suppose it's made of a
mixture of foxes', wolves', and swine's blood?
LABOURER. Oh no! I only supplied him with too much
corn! As long as he had only as much corn as he needed,
he did not grudge his last crust, but when he had more
than he knew what to do with, the fox's, the wolf's, and
the swine's blood in him awoke. He always had beast's
blood in him, only it could not get the upper hand.
CHIEF. Well, you're a fine fellow! You've atoned for
your crust-blunder. Now they only need to drink spirits,
and they're altogether ours!
Curtain.
END OF THE FIRST DISTILLER,
THE IMP AND THE CRUST
A RUSSIAN FOLK-TALE
RETOLD BY LEO TOLSTOY (1886)
This is the story of which "The First Distiller” is the
dramatised version. It was current on the banks of the Volga,
in olden times.)
A POOR peasant set out before breakfast one morning to
plough, and took with him from home a crust of bread.
He got his plough ready, wrapped the bread in his coat,
put it under a bush, and started ploughing. Presently,
when the horse was tired and the peasant famished, he
fixed the plough, let his horse loose to graze, and went to
his coat to get his breakfast.
He lifted the coat, but the bread was gone! He
looked and looked, turned his coat over, shook it out—
but the bread was gone. The peasant was perplexed.
"That's strange," thought he, "I saw no one, but all
the same some one has taken the bread.”
It was a Devilkin who had stolen the bread while the
peasant was ploughing, and the Imp was sitting behind
a bush waiting to hear the peasant swear and call on
the Devil.
The peasant was sorry.
CC
Well," said he, "what's to be done! After all I
shan't die of hunger! No doubt whoever took it needed
it. May it do him good!"
121
122
The Imp and the Crust
And the peasant went to the well, had a drink of
water, rested a bit, caught his horse, harnessed it, and
again started ploughing.
The Imp was crestfallen at not having caused the
peasant to sin, and he went to tell the Master-Devil
about it.
He came to the Master-Devil and told how he had
taken the peasant's bread, and how the peasant instead
of cursing had said: "May it do him good!"
The Master-Devil was angry, and said:
"If the peasant has had the better of you it's your own
fault—you don't know your business! If first the peasants
and then their wives, take to that sort of thing, it will be
all up with us. The matter can't be left so! Go back to
the peasant," said he, “and make your failure good. If
in three years you don't get the better of that peasant,
I'll have you ducked in holy water!"
The Imp was frightened. He scampered back to earth
thinking how to redeem his fault. He planned and
planned, and at last planned right.
The Imp turned himself into a worthy fellow, and
hired himself out to work for the poor peasant. That
first year he advised the peasant to sow corn in a marshy
place. The peasant took his advice and sowed in the
marsh. The year turned out a very dry one, and the
crops of the other peasants were all scorched by the sun;
but the poor peasant's corn grew thick and tall and full-
eared. Not only had he grain to last him through the
whole year, but he had a lot left over.
The next year the Imp advised the peasant to sow
on the hill. And it turned out a wet summer. Other
people's corn was beaten down and rotted and the ears
did not fill, but the peasant's crop, up on the hill, was
splendid. He had more grain left over than before, so
that he didn't know what to do with it all!
And the Imp showed the peasant how he could mash
The Imp and the Crust
123
the grain and distil spirit from it. And the peasant
made strong drink, and began to drink it himself and to
give it to others.
So the Imp went to the Master-Devil and boasted that
he had made up for his failure. And the Master-Devil
came to see for himself how the case stood.
He came to the peasant's house, and saw that the
peasant had invited his well-to-do neighbours and was
treating them to drink. His wife was offering the drink
to the guests, but just as she was going to hand it round,
she knocked against the table and spilt a glass.
The peasant was angry and scolded his wife: “There,
you devil's dam! Do you think it's ditch-water, you
cripple, that you must pour such good stuff all over the
floor?"
The Imp nudged the Master-Devil with his elbow:
See," said he, "that's the man who did not grudge his
last crust!"
The peasant railed at his wife and began to serve the
drink round, himself. Just then a poor peasant, return-
ing from work, came in uninvited. He greeted the
company, sat down, and saw that they were drinking.
Tired with his day's work, he felt he too wanted a drop.
He sat and sat, and his mouth watered and watered, but
the host instead of offering him any only muttered, "As
if I could find drink for everybody!"
This pleased the Master-Devil; but the Imp chuckled,
“Wait a bit, there's more to come yet!"
The rich peasants drank, and their host drank too.
And they began to make false, oily speeches to one
another.
The Master-Devil listened and listened, and praised the
Imp for this.
"If,” said he, "this drink makes them so foxy that
they begin to cheat each other, they will soon all be in
our hands."
124 The Imp and the Crust
3
"Wait for what's coming," said the Imp. "Let them
have another glass. Now they are like foxes, wagging
their tails at each other and trying to get round one
another, but you'll see them like savage wolves directly."
The peasants had another glass each, and their talk
became wilder and rougher. Instead of oily speeches
they began to abuse and snarl at one another. Soon they
took to fighting, and went for each other's noses. And
the host joined in the fight, and he, too, got a good
beating.
And the Master-Devil looked on and was pleased at
this also.
'This," said he, "is first-rate !'
دو
But the Imp replied, "Wait for what's coming,—that's
not all, yet! Let them only have a third glass. Now they
are raging like wolves, but give them time to have another
glass and they will be like swine.”
The peasants had their third glass and became quite
like brutes. They muttered and shouted, not themselves
knowing what about, and not listening to one another.
Then the party began to break up. Some went alone,
some in twos, and some in threes, all staggering down
the street. The host went out to accompany his guests,
but he fell on his nose into a puddle and smeared himself
from top to toe, and lay grunting like a hog.
This pleased the Master-Devil still more.
""
"Well," said he, "you have found a first-rate drink,
and have made up for your bread-blunder. But tell me,'
said he, “how you made it? You must first have poured
in fox's blood. That was what made the peasants sly as
foxes. Then you must have added wolf's blood: that
made them fierce as wolves. And you must have finished
off with swine's blood to make them behave like swine."
"No," said the Imp, "that was not the way I managed.
All I did was to see that the peasant had more corn than
he needed. The blood of the beasts is always in man,
CC
The Imp and the Crust
125
but as long as he has only as much corn as he really
needs it is kept in bounds. While that was the case the
But when corn
peasant did not grudge his last crust.
was left over, he began to seek for ways of turning it to
his pleasure. And I taught him a pleasure-drinking!
And when he began to turn God's good gifts into spirits
for his own pleasure-the fox's, wolf's, and swine's blood
in him showed itself. If only he goes on drinking he
will always be a beast!”
The Master-Devil praised the Imp, pardoned him for
his bread-blunder, and advanced him to a post of honour.
END OF THE IMP AND THE CRUST."
Un
FRUITS OF CULTURE
A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS
(1889)
CHARACTERS
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH ZVEZDÍNTSEF. A retired Lieutenant of the
Horse Guards. Owner of more than 60,000 acres of land in various
provinces. A fresh-looking, bland, agreeable gentleman of 60. Believes
in Spiritualism, and likes to astonish people with his wonderful stories.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA ZVEZDÍNTSEVA. Wife of Leonid. Stout; pretends
to be young; quite taken up with the conventionalities of life; despises
her husband, and blindly believes in her doctor. Very irritable.
BETSY. Their daughter. A young woman of 20, fast, tries to be
mannish, wears a pince-nez, flirts and giggles. Speaks very quickly
and distinctly.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH ZVEZDÍNTSEF. Their son, aged 25; has
studied law, but has no definite occupation. Member of the Cycling
Club, Jockey Club, and of the Society for Promoting the Breeding of
Hounds. Enjoys perfect health, and has imperturbable self-assurance.
Speaks loud and abruptly. Is either perfectly serious—almost morose,
or is noisily gay and laughs loud. Is nicknamed Vovo.
ALEXÉY VLADIMIROVITCH KROUGOSVÉTLOF. A professor and
scientist of about 50, with quiet and pleasantly self-possessed manners,
and quiet, deliberate, harmonious speech. Likes to talk. Is mildly dis-
dainful of those who do not agree with him. Smokes much. Is lean
and active.
THE DOCTOR. About 40. Healthy, fat, red-faced, loud-voiced, and
rough; with a self-satisfied smile constantly on his lips.
MÁRYA KONSTANTÍNOVNA. A girl of 20, from the Conservatoire,
teacher of music. Wears a fringe, and is super-fashionably dressed.
Obsequious, and gets easily confused.
PETRÍSTCHEF. About 28; has taken his degree in philology, and is
looking out for a position. Member of the same clubs as Vasily Leonid-
itch, and also of the Society for the Organisation of Calico Balls.¹ Is
bald-headed, quick in movement and speech, and very polite.
1 Economical balls at which the ladies are bound to appear in dresses
made of cotton inaterials.
128
Fruits of Culture
129
THE BARONESS. A pompous lady of about 50, slow in her movements,
speaks with monotonous intonation.
THE PRINCESS. A society woman, a visitor.
HER DAUGHTER. An affected young society woman, a visitor.
THE COUNTESS. An ancient dame, with false hair and teeth. Moves
with great difficulty.
GROSSMAN. A dark, nervous, lively man of Jewish type. Speaks
very loud.
THE FAT LADY: MÁRYA VASÍLYEVNA TOLBOÚHINA. A very dis-
tinguished, rich, and kindly woman, acquainted with all the notable
people of the last and present generations. Very stout. Speaks hur-
riedly, trying to be heard above every one else. Smokes.
BARON KLÍNGEN (nicknamed KOKÓ). A graduate of Petersburg
University. Gentleman of the Bedchamber, Attaché to an Embassy.
Is perfectly correct in his deportment, and therefore enjoys peace of
mind and is quietly gay.
TWO SILENT LADIES.
SERGÉY IVÁNITCH SAHÁTOF. About 50, an ex-Assistant Minister
of State. An elegant gentleman, of wide European culture, engaged in
nothing and interested in everything. His carriage is dignified and at
times even severe.
Uses
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Personal attendant on Zvezdintsef, aged
about 60. A man of some education and fond of information.
his pince-nez and pocket-handkerchief too much, unfolding the latter very
slowly. Takes an interest in politics. Is kindly and sensible.
GREGORY. A footman, about 28, handsome, profligate, envious, and
insolent.
JACOB. Butler, about 40, a bustling, kindly man, to whom the inte-
rests of his family in the village are all-important.
SIMON. The butler's assistant, about 20, a healthy, fresh peasant lad,
fair, beardless as yet; calm and smiling.
THE COACHMAN. A man of about 35, a dandy. Has moustaches
but no beard. Rude and decided.
A DISCHARGED MAN-COOK. About 45, dishevelled, unshaved, bloated,
yellow and trembling. Dressed in a ragged, light summer-overcoat
and dirty trousers. Speaks hoarsely, ejecting the words abruptly.
THE SERVANTS' COOK. A talkative, dissatisfied woman of 30.
THE DOORKEEPER. A retired soldier.
TÁNYA (TATYÁNA MÁRKOVNA). Lady's-maid, 19, energetic, strong,
merry, with quickly-changing moods. At moments, when strongly ex-
cited, she shrieks with joy.
I
130
Fruits of Culture
FIRST PEASANT. About 60. Has served as village Elder. Imagines
that he knows how to treat gentlefolk, and likes to hear himself talk.
SECOND PEASANT. About 45, head of a family. A man of few
words. Rough and truthful. The father of Simon.
THIRD PEASANT. About 70. Wears shoes of plaited bast. Is
nervous, restless, hurried, and tries to cover his confusion by much
talking.
FIRST FOOTMAN (in attendance on the Countess). An old man, with
old-fashioned manners, and proud of his place.
SECOND FOOTMAN. Of enormous size, strong, and rude.
A PORTER FROM A FASHIONABLE DRESSMAKER'S SHOP, A fresh-
faced man in dark-blue long coat. Speaks firmly, emphatically, and
clearly.
The action takes place in Moscow, in Zvezdíntsef's house.
FRUITS OF CULTURE
ACT I
The entrance hall of a wealthy house in Moscow. There
are three doors: the front door, the door of Leonid Fyodor-
itch's study, and the door of Vasily Leoniditch's room. A
staircase leads up to the other rooms; behind it is another
door leading to the servants' quarters.
SCENE 1.
"Mous-
GREGORY [looks at himself in the glass and arranges his hair,
&c.] I am sorry about those moustaches of mine!
taches are not becoming to a footman, she says! And
why? Why, so that any one might see you're a footman,
else my looks might put her darling son to shame. He's
a likely one! There's not much fear of his coming any-
where near me, moustaches or no moustaches! [Smiling
into the glass] And what a lot of 'em swarm round me.
And yet I don't care for any of them as much as for
that Tánya. And she only a lady's-maid!
Ah well,
she's nicer than any young lady. [Smiles] She is a duck!
[Listening] Ah, here she comes. [Smiles] Yes, that's her,
clattering with her little heels. Oh!
Enter Tánya, carrying a cloak and boots.
GREGORY. My respects to you, Tatyána Márkovna.
TÁNYA. What are you always looking in the glass for?
Do you think yourself so good-looking?
GREGORY. Well, and are my looks not agreeable ?
131
132
Fruits of Culture
TÁNYA. So, so; neither agreeable nor disagreeeable, but
just betwixt and between! Why are all those cloaks hang-
ing there?
GREGORY. I am just going to put them away, your lady-
ship! [Takes down a fur cloak and, wrapping it round her,
embraces her] I say, Tánya, I'll tell you something . . .
TÁNYA. Oh, get away, do! What do you mean by this?
[Pulls herself angrily away] Leave me alone, I tell you!
GREGORY [looks cautiously around] Then give me a kiss!
tánya. Now, really, what are you bothering for? I'll
give you such a kiss! [Raises her hand to strike].
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [off the scene, rings and then shouts]
Gregory!
TÁNYA. There now, go! Vasily Leoníditch is calling you.
GREGORY. He'll wait! He's only just opened his eyes!
I say, why don't you love me?
TÁNYA. What sort of loving have you imagined now? I
don't love anybody.
GREGORY. That's a fib. You love Simon! You have
found a nice one to love-a common, dirty-pawed peasant,
a butler's assistant !
TÁNYA. Never mind; such as he is, you are jealous of
him!
. .
Jealous indeed! Of
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [off the scene] Gregory!
GREGORY. All in good time.
what? Why, you have only just begun to get licked
into shape, and who are you tying yourself up with? Now,
wouldn't it be altogether a different matter if you loved
me? . . . I say, Tánya .
. .
TÁNYA [angrily and severely] You'll get nothing from
me, I tell you!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [off the scene] Gregory!!
GREGORY. You are a strict one!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [off the scene, shouts persistently, monoton-
ously, and with all his might] Gregory! Gregory! Gregory!
[Tánya and Gregory laugh].
Fruits of Culture
133
GREGORY. You should have seen the girls that have been
sweet on me. [Bell rings].
TÁNYA. Well then, go to them, and leave me alone!
GREGORY. You are a silly, now I think of it. I'm not
Simon!
TÁNYA. Simon means marriage, and not tomfoolery!
Enter Porter, carrying a large cardboard box.
PORTER. Good morning!
GREGORY. Good morning!
PORTER. From Bourdey's.
here's a note for the lady.
Where are you from?
I've brought a dress, and
TÁNYA [taking the note] Sit down, and I'll take it in.
[Exit].
Vasily Leoniditch looks out of the door in shirt-sleeves and
slippers.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Gregory!
GREGORY. Yes, sir.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Gregory! Don't you hear me call ?
GREGORY. I've only just come, sir.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Hot water, and a cup of tea.
GREGORY. Yes, sir; Simon will bring them directly.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. And who is this? Ah, from Bourdier ?
PORTER. Yes, sir.
Exeunt Vasily Leoniditch and Gregory. Bell rings. Tánya
runs in at the sound of the bell and opens the front door.
TÁNYA [to Porter] Please wait a little.
PORTER. I am waiting.
Sahátof enters at front door.
TÁNYA. I beg your pardon, but the footman has just
This way, sir. Allow me, please. [Takes his
gone away.
fur cloak].
SAHÁTOF [adjusting his clothes] Is Leonid Fyódoritch at
home? Is he up? [Bell rings].
TÁNYA. Oh yes, sir.
He's been up a long time.
Doctor enters and looks round for the footman. Sees Sahátof,
and addresses him in an offhand manner.
134
Fruits of Culture
DOCTOR. Ah, my respects to you!
SAHÁTOF [looks fixedly at him] The Doctor, I believe?
DOCTOR. And I thought you were abroad! Dropped in
to see Leonid Fyódoritch?
SAHÁTOF. Yes. And you? Is any one ill?
DOCTOR [laughing] Not exactly ill, but, you know
It's awful with these ladies! Sits up at cards till three
every morning, and pulls her waist into the shape of a
wine-glass. And the lady is flabby and fat, and carries
the weight of a good many years on her back.
-
SAHÁTOF. Is this the way you state your diagnosis to
Anna Pávlovna? I should hardly think it quite pleases her!
DOCTOR [laughing] Well, it's the truth. They do all
these tricks and then
then come derangements of the
digestive organs, pressure on the liver, nerves, and all
sorts of things, and one has to come and patch them up.
It's just awful! [Laughs] And you? You are also a
spiritualist it seems?
SAHÁTOF. I? No, I am not also a spiritualist.
morning! [Is about to go, but is stopped by the Doctor].
Good
DOCTOR. NO! But I can't myself, you know, positively
deny the possibility of it, when a man like Krougosvétlof is
connected with it all. How can one? Is he not a pro-
fessor, a European celebrity? There must be something
in it. I should like to see for myself, but I never have the
time. I have other things to do.
SAHÁTOF. Yes, yes! Good morning. [Exit, bowing slightly].
DOCTOR [to Tánya] Is Anna Pávlovna up?
TÁNYA. She's in her bedroom, but please come up.
Doctor goes upstairs.
Theodore Ivánitch enters with a newspaper in his hand.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [to Porter] What is it you want?
PORTER. I'm from Bourdey's.
note, and was told to wait.
I brought a dress and a
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Ah, from Bourdey's! [To Tánya]
Who came in just now?
Fruits of Culture
135
TÁNYA. It was Sergéy Ivánitch Sahátof and the Doctor.
They stood talking here a bit. It was all about spirit-
alism.
Have
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [correcting her] Spiritualism.
TÁNYA. Yes, that's just what I said-spiritalism.
you heard how well it went off last time, Theodore Iván-
itch? [Laughs] There was knocks, and things flew about!
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. And how do you know?
TÁNYA. Miss Elizabeth told me.
Jacob runs in with a tumbler of tea on a tray.
JACOB [to the Porter] Good morning!
PORTER [disconsolately] Good morning!
Jacob knocks at Vasily Leoniditch's door.
Gregory enters.
GREGORY. Give it here.
JACOB. You didn't bring back all yesterday's tumblers,
nor the tray Vasíly Leoníditch had. And it's me that have
to answer for them!
GREGORY. The tray is full of cigars.
JACOB. Well, put them somewhere else. It's me who's
answerable for it.
GREGORY. I'll bring it back! I'll bring it back!
JACOB. Yes, so you say, but it is not where it ought to
be. The other day, just as the tea had to be served, it
was not to be found.
GREGORY. I'll bring it back, I tell you. What a fuss!
JACOB. It's
's easy for you to talk. Here am I serving tea
for the third time, and now there's the lunch to get ready.
One does nothing but rush about the livelong day. Is
there any one in the house who has more to do than me?
Yet they are never satisfied with me.
GREGORY. Dear me? Who could wish for any one more
satisfactory? You're such a fine fellow!
TÁNYA. Nobody is good enough for you! You alone. .
GREGORY [to Tánya] No one asked your opinion!
[Exit].
136
Fruits of Culture
JACOB. Ah well, I don't mind. Tatyána Márkovna, did
the mistress say anything about yesterday?
TÁNYA. About the lamp, you mean?
JACOB. And how it managed to drop out of my hands,
the Lord only knows! Just as I began rubbing it, and
was going to take hold of it in another place, out it slips
and goes all to pieces. It's just my luck! It's easy for
that Gregory Miháylitch to talk-a single man like him!
But when one has a family, one has to consider things:
they have to be fed. I don't mind work. . . . So she
didn't say anything? The Lord be thanked! . . . Oh,
Theodore Ivánitch, have you one spoon or two?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. One. Only one! [Reads newspaper].
Exit Jacob.
Bell rings. Enter Gregory (carrying a tray) and the Door-
keeper.
DOORKEEPER [to Gregory] Tell the master some peasants
have come from the village.
GREGORY [pointing to Theodore Ivánitch] Tell the major-
domo here, it's his business. I have no time. [Exit].
TÁNYA. Where are these peasants from?
DOORKEEPER. From Koursk, I think.
TÁNYA [shrieks with delight] It's them. . . . It's Simon's
father come about the land! I'll go and meet them!
[Runs off].
DOORKEEPER. Well, then, what shall I say to them?
Shall they come in here? They say they've come about
the land—the master knows, they say.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Yes, they want to purchase some
land. All right! But he has a visitor now, so you had
better tell them to wait.
DOORKEEPER. Where shall they wait?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Let them wait outside.
I'll send
for them when the time comes. [Exit Doorkeeper].
Enter Tánya, followed by three Peasants.
TÁNYA. To the right. In here!
In here! In here!
Fruits of Culture
137
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. I did not want them brought in
here!
GREGORY. Forward minx !
TÁNYA. Oh, Theodore Ivánitch, it won't matter, they'll
stand in this corner.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. They'll dirty the floor.
TÁNYA. They've scraped their shoes, and I'll wipe
the floor up afterwards. [To Peasants] Here, stand just
here.
Peasants come forward carrying presents tied in cotton
handkerchiefs: cake, eggs, and embroidered towels. They look
around for an icón before which to cross themselves; not finding
one, they cross themselves looking at the staircase.
GREGORY [to Theodore Ivánitch]. There now, Theodore
Ivánitch, they say Pironnet's boots are an elegant shape.
But those there are ever so much better. [Pointing to the
third Peasant's bast shoes].
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Why will you always be ridiculing
people? [Exit Gregory].
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [rises and goes up to the Peasants]
So you are from Koursk? And have come to arrange
about buying some land?
FIRST PEASANT. Just so. We might say, it is for the
completion of the purchase of the land we have come.
How could we announce ourselves to the master?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Yes, yes, I know. You wait a bit
and I'll go and inform him. [Exit].
The Peasants look around; they are embarrassed where to
put their presents.
—a
FIRST PEASANT. There now, couldn't we have what d'you
call it? Something to present these here things on? To
do it in a genteel way, like, a little dish or something.
TÁNYA. All right, directly; put them down here for the
present. [Puts bundles on settle].
FIRST PEASANT. There now,-that respectable gentleman
that was here just now,—what might be his station ?
138
Fruits of Culture
TÁNYA. He's the master's valet.
FIRST PEASANT. I see.
So he's also in service. And you,
now, are you a servant too?
TÁNYA. I am lady's-maid. Do you know, I also come
from Démen! I know you, and you, but I don't know
him. [Pointing to third Peasant].
THIRD PEASANT. Them two you know, but me you don't
know?
TÁNYA. You are Efím Antónitch.
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it!
TÁNYA. And you are Simon's father, Zachary Tri-
fánitch.
SECOND PEASANT. Right!
THIRD PEASANT. And let me tell you, I'm Mítry Vlásitch
Tchilíkin. Now do you know?
TÁNYA. Now I shall know you too!
SECOND PEASANT. And who may you be?
TÁNYA. I am Aksinya's, the soldier's wife's, orphan.
FIRST AND THIRD PEASANTS [with surprise] Never!
SECOND PEASANT. The proverb says true :
"Buy a penny pig, put it in the rye,
And you'll have a wonderful fat porker by-and-by."
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it! She's got the resemblance
of a duchess!
THIRD PEASANT. That be so truly. Oh Lord!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [off the scene, rings, and then shouts]
Gregory! Gregory!
FIRST PEASANT. Now who's that, for example, disturbing
himself in such a way, if I may say so?
TÁNYA. That's the young master.
THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord! Didn't I say we'd better wait
outside until the time comes? [Silence].
SECOND PEASANT. Is it you, Simon wants to marry?
TÁNYA. Why, has he been writing? [Hides her face in
her apron].
Fruits of Culture
139
SECOND PEASANT. It's evident he's written! But it's a
bad business he's imagined here. I see the lad's got
spoilt !
TANYA [quickly] No, he's not at all spoilt! Shall I send
him to you?
SECOND PEASANT. Why send him? All in good time.
Where's the hurry?
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [desperately, behind scene] Gregory!
Where the devil are you? . . . [Enters from his room in
shirt-sleeves, adjusting his pince-nez].
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Is every one dead?
TÁNYA. He's not here, sir.
•
I'll send him to you at
once. [Moves towards the back door].
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. I could hear you talking, you know.
How have these scarecrows sprung up here? Eh?
What?
TÁNYA. They're peasants from the Koursk village, sir.
[Peasants bow].
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. And who is this? Oh yes, from
Bourdier.
Vasily Leoniditch pays no attention to the Peasants' bow.
Tánya meets Gregory at the doorway and remains on the
scene.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [to Gregory] I told you the other
boots. . . . I can't wear these!
GREGORY. Well, the others are also there.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. But where is there?
GREGORY. Just in the same place!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. They're not!
GREGORY. Well, come and see.
Vasily Leoniditch].
[Exeunt Gregory and
THIRD PEASANT. Say now, might we not in the mean-
time just go and wait, say, in some lodging-house or
somewhere?
tánya. No, no, wait a little.
plates to put the presents on.
I'll go and bring you some
[Exit].
140
Fruits of Culture
Enter Sahátof and Leonid Fyódoritch, followed by Theodore
Ivánitch.
The Peasants take up the presents, and pose themselves.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [to Peasants] Presently, presently!
Wait a bit! [Points to Porter] Who is this?
PORTER. From Bourdey's.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Ah, from Bourdier.
SAHÁTOF [smiling] Well, I don't deny it still you under-
stand that, never having seen it, we, the uninitiated, have
some difficulty in believing.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. You say you find it difficult to be-
lieve! We do not ask for faith; all we demand of you is
to investigate! How can I help believing in this ring?
Yet this ring came from there!
SAHÁTOF. From there? What do you mean? From
where?
LEONÍd fyÓDORITCH. From the other world. Yes!
SAHÁTOF [smiling] That's very interesting-very inter-
esting!
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Well, supposing we admit that I'm
a man carried away by an idea, as you think, and
that I am deluding myself. Well, but what of Alexéy
Vladimiritch Krougosvétlof-he is not just an ordinary
man, but a distinguished professor, and yet he admits it to
be a fact. And not he alone. What of Crookes? What
of Wallace?
SAHÁTOF. But I don't deny anything. I only say it is
very interesting. It would be interesting to know how
Krougosvétlof explains it!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. He has a theory of his own. Could
you come to-night?—he is sure to be here. First we shall
have Grossman-you know, the famous thought-reader?
SAHÁTOF. Yes, I have heard of him but have never
happened to meet him.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Then you must come! We shall
first have Grossman, then Kaptchítch, and our mediumistic
Fruits of Culture
141
séance.
[To Theodore Ivánitch] Has the man returned
from Kaptchítch?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Not yet, sir.
SAHÁTOF. Then how am I to know?
If
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Never mind, come in any case!
Kaptchítch can't come we shall find our own medium.
Márya Ignátievna is a medium-not such a good one as
Kaptchítch, but still..
Tánya enters with plates for the presents, and stands listening.
SAHÁTOF [smiling] Oh yes, yes. But here is one puzzling
point-how is it that the mediums are always of the,
so-called, educated class, such as Kaptchítch and Márya
Ignátievna? If there were such a special force, would it
not be met with also among the common people-the
peasants?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Oh yes, and it is! That is very
common. Even here in our own house we have a peasant
whom we discovered to be a medium. A few days ago
we called him in a sofa had to be
séance—and we forgot all about him.
he fell asleep. And, fancy, after our
and Kaptchítch had come to again, we suddenly noticed
mediumistic phenomena in another part of the room, near
the peasant: the table gave a jerk and moved!
moved, during a
In all probability
séance was over
TÁNYA [aside] That was when I was getting out from
under it!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. It is quite evident he also is a
medium. Especially as he is very like Home in appear-
ance. You remember Home-a fair-haired naïve sort of
fellow?
SAHÁTOF [shrugging his shoulders] Dear me, this is very
interesting, you know. I think you should try him.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. So we will! And he is not alone;
there are thousands of mediums, only we do not know
them. Why, only a short time ago a bedridden old
woman moved a brick wall!
142
Fruits of Culture
SAHÁTOF. Moved a brick . a brick wall?
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Yes, yes.
She was lying in bed,
and did not even know she was a medium. She just leant
her arm against the wall, and the wall moved!
SAHÁTOF. And did not cave in?
Leonid fyódORITCH. And did not cave in.
SAHÁTOF. Very strange!
evening.
Well then, I'll come this
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Pray do. We shall have a séance
in any case. [Sahátof puts on his outdoor things, Leonid
Fyódoritch sees him to the door].
PORTER [to Tánya] Do tell your mistress! Am I to
spend the night here?
TÁNYA. Wait a little; she's going to drive out with the
young lady, so she'll soon be coming downstairs. [Exit].
LEONID FYÓDORITCH [comes up to the Peasants, who bow and
offer him their presents] That's not necessary!
FIRST PEASANT [smiling] Oh, but this-here is our first
duty, it is! It's also the Commune's orders that we should
do it!
SECOND PEASANT. That's always been the proper way.
THIRD PEASANT. Say no more about it! 'Cause as we are
much satisfied. As our parents, let's say, served, let's
say, your parents, so we would like the same with all our
hearts... and not just anyhow! [Bows].
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. But what is it about? What do
you want?
•
FIRST PEASANT. It's to your honour we've come
Enter Petristchef briskly, in fur-lined overcoat.
PETRÍSTCHEF. Is Vasily Leoníditch awake yet? [Seeing
Leonid Fyodoritch, bows, moving only his head].
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. You have come to see my son?
PETRÍSTCHEF. I? Yes, just to see Vovo for a moment.
Leonid fyódorITCH. Step in, step in.
Petristchef takes off his overcoat and walks in briskly.
Exit.
Fruits of Culture
143
LEONID FYODORITCH [to Peasants] Well, what is it you want?
SECOND PEASANT. Please accept our presents!
FIRST PEASANT [smiling] That's to say, the peasants'
offerings.
THIRD PEASANT. Say no more about it; what's the good?
We wish you the same as if you were our own father! Say
no more about it!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. All right. Here, Theodore, take
these.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [to Peasants] Give them here. [Takes
the presents].
•
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well, what is the business?
FIRST PEASANT. We've come to your honour
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. I see you have; but what do you
want?
FIRST PEASANT. It's about making a move towards com-
pleting the sale of the land. It comes to this
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Do you mean to buy the land?
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. It comes to this. . I
mean the buying of the property of the land. The Com-
mune has given us, let's say, the power of atturning, to
enter, let's say, as is lawful, through the Government
bank, with a stamp for the lawful amount.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. You mean that you want to buy the
land through the land-bank.
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. Just as you offered it to us
last year.
It comes to this, then, the whole sum in full for
the buying of the property of the land is 32,864 roubles.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. That's all right, but how about
paying up?
FIRST PEASANT. As to the payment, the Commune offers
just as it was said last year-to pay in 'stalments, and
your receipt of the ready money by lawful regulations,
4000 roubles in full.1
1 The present value of the rouble is rather over two shillings and
one penny.
144
Fruits of Culture
SECOND PEASANT. Take 4000 now, and wait for the rest
of the money.
THIRD PEASANT [unwrapping a parcel of money] And about
this be quite easy.
We should pawn our own selves
rather than do such a thing just anyhow say, but in this
way, let's say, as it ought to be done.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. But did I not write and tell you
that I should not agree to it unless you brought the whole
sum ?
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it.
It would be more agree-
able, but it is not in our possibilities, I mean.
LEONÍd fyÓDORITCH. Well then, the thing can't be done!
FIRST PEASANT. The Commune, for example, relied its
hopes on that, that you made the offer last year to sell
it in easy 'stalments .
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. That was last year. I would have
agreed to it then, but now I can't.
SECOND PEASANT. But how's that? We've been depend-
ing on your promise-we've got the papers ready and have
collected the money!
THIRD PEASANT. Be merciful, master! We're short of
land; we'll say nothing about cattle, but even a hen, let's
say, we've no room to keep. [Bows] Don't wrong us,
master! [Bows].
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Of course it's quite true, that I
agreed last year to let you have the land for payment by
instalments, but now circumstances are such that it would
be inconvenient.
SECOND PEASANT. Without this land we cannot live!
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. Without land our lives
must grow weaker and come to a decline.
THIRD PEASANT [bowing] Master, we have so little land,
let's not talk about the cattle, but even a chicken, let's
say, we've no room for. Master, be merciful, accept the
money, master!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [examining the document] I quite un-
Fruits of Culture
145
derstand, and should like to help you. Wait a little; I
will give you an answer in half-an-hour.
Theodore,
say I am engaged and am not to be disturbed.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Yes, sir. [Exit Leonid Fyódoritch].
The Peasants look dejected.
SECOND PEASANT. Here's a go! "Give me the whole
sum,” he says. And where are we to get it from?
FIRST PEASANT. If he had not given us hopes, for example.
As it is we felt quite insured it would be as was said last
year.
THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord! and I had begun unwrapping
the money. [Begins wrapping up the bundle of bank-notes
again] What are we to do now?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. What is your business, then?
FIRST PEASANT. Our business, respected sir, depends in
this. Last year he made us the offer of our buying the
land in 'stalments. The Commune entered upon these
terms and gave us the powers of atturning, and now d'you
see he makes the offering that we should pay the whole
in full! And as it turns out, the business is no ways con-
venient for us.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. What is the whole sum?
FIRST PEASANT. The whole sum in readiness is 4000
roubles, you see.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Well, what of that?
effort and collect more.
Make an
FIRST PEASANT. Such as it is, it was collected with much
effort. We have, so to say, in this sense, not got ammuni-
tion enough.
SECOND PEASANT. You can't get blood out of a stone.
THIRD PEASANT. We'd be glad with all our hearts, but
we have swept even this together, as you might say,
with a broom.
Vasily Leoniditch and Petristchef appear in the doorway
both smoking cigarettes.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. I have told you already I'll do my
K
146
Fruits of Culture
best, so of course I will do all that is possible!
what?
Eh,
you do
PETRÍSTCHEF. You must just understand that if
not get it, the devil only knows what a mess we shall
be in!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. But I've already said I'll do my best,
and so I will. Eh, what?
PETRÍSTCHEF. Nothing. I only say, get some at any cost.
I will wait.
Exit into Vasily Leoniditch's room, closing door.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [waving his arm] It's a deuce of a go!
[The Peasants bow].
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [looking at Porter, to Theodore Ivánitch]
Why don't you attend to this fellow from Bourdier? He
hasn't come to take lodgings with us, has he? Just look,
he is asleep! Eh, what?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. The note he brought has been sent
in, and he has been told to wait until Anna Pávlovna
comes down.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [looks at Peasants and notices the money]
And what is this? Money? For whom? Is it for us?
[To Theodore Ivánitch] Who are they?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. They are peasants from Koursk.
They are buying land.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Has it been sold them?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. No, they have not yet come to any
agreement. They are too stingy.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Eh? Well, we must try and per-
suade them. [To the Peasants] Here, I say, are you buying
land? Eh ?
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. We have made an offering
as how we should like to acquire the possession of the
land.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Then you should not be so stingy,
you know. Just let me tell you how necessary land is to
peasants! Eh, what? It's very necessary, isn't it?
Fruits of Culture
147
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. The land appears as the
very first and foremost necessity to a peasant. That's
just it.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Then why be so stingy? Just you
think what land is! Why, one can sow wheat on it in
rows! I tell you, you could get eighty bushels of wheat,
at a rouble and a half a bushel-that would be 120 roubles.
Eh, what? Or else mint! I tell you, you could collar
400 roubles off an acre by sowing mint!
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. All sorts of producks one
could put into action if one had the right understanding.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Mint! Decidedly mint! I have
learnt about it, you know. It's all printed in books. I
can show them you. Eh, what?
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it, all concerns are clearer to
you through your books. That's learnedness, of course.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Then pay up and don't be stingy!
[To Theodore Ivánitch] Where's papa?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. He gave orders not to be disturbed
just now.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Oh, I suppose he's consulting a spirit.
whether to sell the land or not? Eh, what?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. I can't say.
went away undecided about it.
All I know is that he
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. What d'you think, Theodore Ivanítch.
is he flush of cash? Eh, what?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. I don't know. I hardly think so,
But what does it matter to you? You drew a good sum
not more than a week ago.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. But didn't I pay for those dogs?
And now, you know, there's our new Society, and Petrís-
tchef has been chosen, and I had borrowed money from
Petrístchef and must pay the subscription both for him
and for myself. Eh, what?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. And what is this new Society? A
Cycling Club ?
148
Fruits of Culture
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. No. Just let me tell you. It is quite
a new Society. It is a very serious Society, you know. And
who do you think is President? Eh, what?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. What's the object of this new
Society?
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. It is a (C
Society to Promote the
Breeding of Pure-bred Russian Hounds." Eh,
Eh, what?
And I'll tell you, they're having the first meeting and a
lunch, to-day. And I've no money. I'll go to him and
have a try! [Exit through study door].
FIRST PEASANT [to Theodore Ivánitch] And who might he
be, respected sir?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [smiles] The young master.
THIRD PEASANT. The heir, so to say. Oh Lord! [puts
away the money] I'd better hide it meanwhile.
FIRST PEASANT. And we were told he was in military
service, in the cav'rely, for example.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. No, as an only son he is exempt
from military service.
THIRD PEASANT. Left for to keep his parents, so to say!
That's right!
SECOND PEASANT [shaking his head] He's the right sort.
He'll keep them in a fine way!
THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord!
Enter Vasily Leoníditch followed by Leonid Fyódoritch.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. That's always the way. It's really
surprising! First I'm asked why I have no occupation,
and now when I have found a field and am occupied, when
a Society with serious and noble aims has been founded, I
can't even have 300 roubles to go on with! . . .
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. I tell you I can't do it, and I can't!
I haven't got it.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Why, you have just sold some land.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. In the first place I have not sold it!
And above all, do leave me in peace! Weren't you told I
was engaged? [Exit, slamming door].
Fruits of Culture
149
theodore ivániTCH. I told you this was not the right
moment.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Well, I say! Here's a position to be
in! I'll go and see mamma—that's my only hope. He's
going crazy over his spiritualism and forgets everything
else. [Goes upstairs].
Theodore Ivánitch takes newspaper and is just going to sit
down, when Betsy and Márya Konstantínovna, followed by
Gregory, come down the stairs.
BETSY. Is the carriage ready?
GREGORY. Just coming to the door.
BETSY [to Márya Konstantínovna] Come along, come along,
I know it is he.
MÁRYA KONSTANTÍNOVNA. Which he?
BETSY. You know very well whom I mean-Petrístchef,
of course.
MÁRYA KONSTANTÍNOVNA. But where is he?
BETSY. Sitting in Vovo's room. You'll see!
MÁRYA KONSTANTÍNOVNA. And suppose it is not he? [The
Peasants and Porter bow].
BETSY [to Porter] You brought a dress from Bour-
dier's?
PORTER. Yes, Miss. May I go?
BETSY. Well, I don't know. Ask my mother.
PORTER. I don't know whose it is, Miss; I was ordered to
bring it here and receive the money.
BETSY. Well then, wait.
MÁRYA KONSTANTÍNOVNA. Is it still that costume for the
charade?
BETSY. Yes, a charming costume. But mamma won't
take it or pay for it.
MÁRYA KONSTANTÍNOVNA. But why not?
BETSY. You'd better ask mamma. She doesn't grudge
Vovo 500 roubles for his dogs, but 100 is too much for a
dress. I can't act dressed like a scarecrow. [Pointing to
Peasants] And who are these?
150
Fruits of Culture
GREGORY. Peasants who have come to buy some land or
other.
BETSY. And I thought they were the beaters.
not beaters ?
Are you
FIRST PEASANT. No, no, lady. We have come to see
Leonid Fyodoritch about the signing into our possession of
the title-deeds to some land.
BETSY. Then how is it? Vovo was expecting some
beaters who were to come to-day. Are you sure you are
not the beaters? [The Peasants are silent] How stupid they
are! [Goes to Vasíly Leoniditch's door] Vovo? [Laughs].
MÁRYA KONSTANTINOVNA. But we met him just now up-
stairs!
BETSY. Why need you remember that? Vovo, are you
there?
Petristchef enters.
PETRÍSTCHEF. Vovo is not here, but I am prepared to
fulfil on his behalf anything that may be required. How
do you do? How do you do, Márya Konstantínovna ?
[Shakes hands long and violently with Betsy, and then with
Márya Konstantínovna].
SECOND PEASANT. See, it's as if he were pumping water!
BETSY. You can't replace him,--still you're better than
nobody. [Laughs] What are these affairs of yours with
Vovo?
PETRÍSTCHEF. What affairs?
Our affairs are fie-nancial,
that is, our business is fie! It's also nancial, and besides it
is financial.
BETSY. What does nancial mean?
PETRÍSTCHEF. What a question! It means nothing, that's
just the point.
BETSY. No, no, you have missed fire. [Laughs].
PETRÍSTCHEF. One can't always hit the mark, you know.
It's something like a lottery. Blanks and blanks again,
and at last you win! [Theodore Ivánitch goes into the
study].
Fruits of Culture
151
BETSY. Well, this was blank then; but tell me, were you
at the Mergásofs' last night?
PETRÍSTCHEF. Not exactly at the Mère Gásof's, but rather
at the Père Gásof's, or better still, at the Fils Gásof's.
BETSY. You can't do without puns.
And were the Gypsies there?1 [Laughs].
It's an illness.
PETRÍSTCHEF [sings] “On their aprons silken threads,
little birds with golden heads!"
BETSY. Happy mortals!
Fofo's.
And we were yawning at
د,
PETRÍSTCHEF [continues to sing] “And she promised and
she swore, She would ope' her . . her . . her.
how does it go on, Márya Konstantínovna ?
MÁRYA KONSTANTÍNOVNA. "Closet door."
PETRÍSTCHEF. How? What? How, Márya Konstantí-
novna ?
BETSY. Cessez, vous devenez impossible ! 2
PETRÍSTCHEF. J'ai cessé, j'ai bébé, j'ai dédé .
3
BETSY. I see the only way to rid ourselves of your wit
is to make you sing! Let us go into Vovo's room, his
guitar is there. Come, Márya Konstantínovna, come!
[Exeunt Betsy, Márya Konstantínovna, and Petristchef].
FIRST PEASANT. Who be they?
GREGORY. One is our young lady, the other is a girl who
teaches her music.
FIRST PEASANT. Administrates learning, so to say. And
ain't she smart? A reg'lar picture!
SECOND PEASANT. Why don't they marry her? She is old
enough, I should say.
GREGORY. Do you think it's the same as among you
peasants,―marry at fifteen?
FIRST PEASANT. And that man, for example, is he also in
the musitional line?
1 The Gypsy choirs are very popular in Moscow.
2 BETSY. Cease! You are becoming quite unbearable !
3 PETRÍSTCHEF. I have C said (ceascd), B said, and D said.
152
Fruits of Culture
GREGORY [mimicking him] "Musitional" indeed! You
don't understand anything!
FIRST PEASANT. That's just so.
say, is our ignorance.
And stupidity, one might
THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord! [Gipsy songs and guitar ac-
companiment are heard from Vasily Leoniditch's room].
Enter Simon, followed by Tánya, who watches the meeting
between father and son.
GREGORY [to Simon] What do you want?
SIMON. I have been to Mr. Kaptchítch.
GREGORY. Well, and what's the answer?
SIMON. He sent word he couldn't possibly come to-night.
GREGORY. All right, I'll let them know. [Exit].
SIMON [to his father] How d'you do, father! My re-
spects to Daddy Efím and Daddy Mítry! How are all
at home?
SECOND PEASANT. Very well, Simon.
FIRST PEASANT. How d'you do, lad?
THIRD PEASANT. How d'you do, sonny?
SIMON [smiles] Well, come along, father, and have some
tea.
SECOND PEASANT. Wait till we've finished our business.
Don't you see we are not ready yet?
SIMON. Well, I'll wait for you by the porch.
go away].
[Wishes to
TÁNYA [running after him] I say, why didn't you tell
him anything?
SIMON. How could I before all those people? Give me
time, I'll tell him over our tea. [Exit].
Theodore Ivánitch enters and sits down by the window.
FIRST PEASANT. Respected sir, how's our business pro-
ceeding?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Wait a bit, he'll be out presently,
he's just finishing.
TÁNYA [to Theodore Ivánitch] And how do you know,
Theodore Ivánitch, he is finishing ?
Fruits of Culture
153
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. I know that when he has finished
questioning, he reads the question and answer aloud.
TÁNYA. Can one really talk with spirits by means of a
saucer?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. It seems so.
TÁNYA. But supposing they tell him to sign, will he sign?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Of course he will.
TÁNYA. But they do not speak with words?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Oh, yes. By means of the alphabet.
He notices at which letter the saucer stops.
TÁNYA. Yes, but at a si-ance?
Enter Leonid Fyódoritch.
•
LEONID FYODORITCH. Well, friends, I can't do it! I should
be very glad to, but it is quite impossible. If it were for
ready money it would be a different matter.
FIRST PEASANT. That's just so. What more could any one
desire? But the people are so inpennycuous—it is quite
impossible!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well, I can't do it, I really can't.
Here is your document; I can't sign it.
THIRD PEASANT. Show some pity, master; be merciful!
SECOND PEASANT. How can you act so? It is doing us a
wrong.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Nothing wrong about it, friends. I
offered it you in summer, but then you did not agree; and
now I can't agree to it.
How are we to
We'll say nothing
THIRD PEASANT. Master, be merciful!
get along? We have so little land.
about the cattle; a hen, let's say, there's no room to let a
hen out.
Leonid Fyodoritch goes up to the door and stops. Enter,
descending the staircase, Anna Pavlovna and doctor, followed
by Vasily Leoniditch, who is in a merry and playful mood and
is putting some bank-notes into his purse.
anna pávlovna [tightly laced, and wearing a bonnet] Then
I am to take it ?
154
Fruits of Culture
DOCTOR. If the symptoms recur you must certainly take
it, but above all, you must behave better. How can you
expect thick syrup to pass through a thin little hair tube,
especially when we squeeze the tube? It's impossible;
and so it is with the biliary duct. It's simple enough.
Anna Pávlovna. All right, all right!
DOCTOR. Yes," All right, all right," and you go on in the
same old way. It won't do, madam-it won't do. Well,
good-bye!
For
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. No, not good-bye, only au revoir !
I still expect you to-night. I shall not be able to make
up my mind without you.
DOCTOR. All right, if I have time I'll pop in. [Exit].
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [noticing the Peasants] What's this?
What? What people are these? [Peasants bow].
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. These are peasants from Koursk,
come to see Leonid Fyódoritch about the sale of some
land.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I see they are peasants, but who let
them in?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Leonid Fyódoritch gave the order.
He has just been speaking to them about the sale of the
land.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. What sale? There is no need to sell
any. But above all, how can one let in people from the
street into the house? One can't let people in from the
street! One can't let people into the house who have
spent the night heaven knows where! . . . [Getting more
and more excited] I daresay every fold of their clothes is
full of microbes of scarlet-fever microbes, of smallpox
microbes, of diphtheria microbes ! Why, they are from
Koursk Government, where there is an epidemic of diph-
theria. . . Doctor! Doctor! Call the doctor back!
Leonid Fyodoritch goes into his room and shuts the door.
Gregory goes to recall the Doctor.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [smokes at the Peasants] Never mind,
Fruits of Culture
155
mamma; if you like I'll fumigate them so that all the
microbes will go to pot! Eh, what?
Anna Pavlovna remains severely silent, awaiting the Doctor's
return.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [to Peasants] And do you fatten pigs?
There's a first-rate business!
FIRST PEASANT. That's just so.
pig-fattening line now and then.
VASÍLY LEONIDITCH. This kind?
•
We do go in for the
[Grunts like a pig].
anna pávlovnA. Vovo, Vovo, leave off!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Isn't it like? Eh, what?
FIRST PEASANT. That's just so. It's very resemblant.
anna pávlovna. Vovo, leave off, I tell you!
SECOND PEASANT. What's it all about?
THIRD PEASANT. I said, we'd better go to some lodging
meanwhile!
Enter Doctor and Gregory.
DOCTOR. What's the matter? What's happened?
Anna Pávlovna. Why, you're always saying I must not
get excited. Now, how is it possible to keep calm? I
do not see my own sister for two months, and am careful
about any doubtful visitor—and here are people from
Koursk, straight from Koursk, where there is an epi-
demic of diphtheria, right in my house!
DOCTOR. These good fellows you mean, I suppose?
Anna Pávlovna. Of course. Straight from a diphtheric
place!
DOCTOR. Well, of course, if they come from an infected
place it is rash; but still there is no reason to excite your-
self so much about it.
ANNA PÁVLOVna. But don't you yourself advise careful-
ness?
DOCTOR. Of course, of course. Still, why excite yourself?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. How can I help it? Now we shall
have to have the house completely disinfected.
DOCTOR. Oh no! Why completely? That would cost
156
Fruits of Culture
300 roubles or more. I'll arrange it cheaply and well for
you. Take, to a large bottle of water
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Boiled?
•
DOCTOR. It's all the same. Boiled would be better. To
one bottle of water take a tablespoon of salicylic acid, and
have everything they have come in contact with washed
with the solution. As to the fellows themselves, they
must be off, of course. That's all. Then you're quite
safe. And it would do no harm to sprinkle some of the
same solution through a spray-two or three tumblers-
you'll see how well it will act. No danger whatever!
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Tánya! Where is Tánya?
Enter Tánya.
TÁNYA. Did you call, M'm?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You know that big bottle in my dress-
ing-room ?
TÁNYA. Out of which we sprinkled the laundress yester-
day?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Well, of course! What other bottle
could I mean? Well then, take that bottle and first
wash with soap the place where they have been standing,
and then with
TÁNYA. Yes, M'm; I know how.
•
How-
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. And then take the spray
ever, I had better do that myself when I get back.
DOCTOR. Well then, do so, and don't be afraid! Well,
au revoir till this evening. [Exit].
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. And they must be off!
them must remain! Get out, get out!
you looking at?
Not a trace of
Go—what are
FIRST PEASANT. That's just so. It's because of our
stupidity, as we were instructed
off!
GREGORY [pushes the Peasants out] There, there; be
SECOND PEASANT. Let me have my handkerchief back!
[The handkerchief in which the presents were wrapped].
Fruits of Culture
157
THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord, oh Lord! didn't I say-some
lodging-house meanwhile!
Gregory pushes him out.
Exeunt Peasants.
PORTER [who has repeatedly tried to say something] Will
there be any answer?
anna pávlovna. Ah, from Bourdier? [Excitedly] None!
None! You can take it back. I told her I never ordered
such a costume, and I will not allow my daughter to
wear it!
PORTER. I know nothing about it. I was sent
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Go, go, take it back! I will call my-
self about it!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [solemnly] Sir Messenger from Bour-
dier, depart!
PORTER. I might have been told that long ago. I have
sat here nearly five hours!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Ambassador from Bourdier, begone!
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Cease, please!
Exit Porter.
anna pávlovna. Betsy! Where is she? I always have
to wait for her.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [shouting at the top of his voice] Betsy!
Petrístchef! Come quick, quick, quick! Eh? What?
Enter Petristchef, Betsy, and Márya Konstantínovna.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You always keep one waiting!
BETSY. On the contrary, I was waiting for you!
Petristchef bows with his head only, then kisses Anna Páv-
lovna's hand.
anna pávlovna. How d'you do! [To Betsy] You always
have an answer ready!
BETSY. If you are upset, mamma, I had better not go.
Anna PávlovnA. Are we going or not?
BETSY. Well, let us go; it can't be helped.
anna pávlovna. Did you see the man from Bourdier?
BETSY. Yes, and I was very glad. I ordered the costume,
and am going to wear it when it is paid for.
158
Fruits of Culture
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I am not going to pay for a costume
that is indecent !
BETSY. Why has it become indecent?
decent, and now you have a fit of prudery.
First it was
Anna Pávlovna. Not prudery at all! If the bodice were
completely altered, then it would do.
BETSY. Mamma, that is quite impossible.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Well, get dressed.
Gregory puts on their over-shoes for them].
[They sit down.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Márya Konstantínovna, do you notice
a vacuum in the hall?
MÁRYA KONSTANTÍNOVNA. What is it? [Laughs in antici-
pation].
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Bourdier's man has gone! Eh,
what? Good, eh? [Laughs loudly].
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Well, let us go. [Goes out of the door, but
returns at once] Tánya!
TÁNYA. Yes, M'm?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Don't let Frisk catch cold while I am
away. If she wants to be let out, put on her little yellow
cloak. She is not quite well to-day.
TÁNYA. Yes, M❜m.
Exeunt Anna Pavlovna, Betsy, and Gregory.
PETRÍSTCHEF. Well, have you got it?
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Not without trouble, I can tell you!
First I rushed at the gov'nor; he began to bellow and
turned me out. Off to the mater-I got it out of her.
It's here! [Slaps his breast pocket] If once I make up my
mind, there's no getting away from me. I have a deadly
grip! Eh, what? And d'you know, my wolf-hounds are
coming to-day.
Petristchef and Vasily Leoniditch put on their outdoor things
and go out. Tánya follows.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [alone] Yes, nothing but unplea-
santness. How is it they can't live in peace? But one
must say the new generation are not-the thing. And
Fruits of Culture
159
as to the women's dominion! . . . Why, Leonid Fyódoritch
just now was going to put in a word, but seeing what a
frenzy she was in-slammed the door behind him.
He
is a wonderfully kind-hearted man. Yes, wonderfully
kind. What's this? Here's Tánya bringing them back
again!
TÁNYA. Come in, come in, grand-dads, never mind!
Enter Tánya and the Peasants.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Why have you brought them back?
TÁNYA. Well, Theodore Ivánitch, we must do something
about their business. I shall have to wash the place any-
how.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. But the business will not come off,
I see that already.
FIRST PEASANT. How could we best put our affair into
action, respected sir? Your reverence might take a little
trouble over it, and we should give you full thankings
from the Commune for your trouble.
THIRD PEASANT. Do try, honey! We can't live! We
have so little land. Talk of cattle-why, we have no room
to keep a hen! [They bow].
you, friends, but I
I understand your
So what can one do?
Well, give me your
do, but I hardly hope
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. I am sorry for
can't think of any way to help you.
case very well, but he has refused.
Besides, the lady is also against it.
papers-I'll try and see what I can
to succeed. [Exit].
Tánya and the three Peasants sigh.
TÁNYA. But tell me, grand-dads, what is it that is
wanted?
FIRST PEASANT. Why, only that he should put his signature
to our document.
TÁNYA. That the master should sign? Is that all?
FIRST PEASANT. Yes, only lay his signature on the deed
and take the money, and there would be an end of the
matter.
160
Fruits of Culture
THIRD PEASANT. He only has to write and sign, as the
peasants, let's say, desire, so, let's say, I also desire.
That's the whole affair—if he'd only take it and sign it,
it's all done.
TÁNYA [considering] He need only sign the paper and
it's done?
FIRST PEASANT. That's just so. The whole matter is in
dependence on that, and nothing else. Let him sign,
and we ask no more.
TÁNYA. Just wait and see what Theodore Ivánitch will
say. If he cannot persuade the master, I'll try some-
thing.
FIRST PEASANT. Get round him, will you 1?
TÁNYA. I'll try.
THIRD PEASANT. Ay, the lass is going to bestir herself.
Only get the thing settled, and the Commune will bind
itself to keep you all your life. See there, now!
FIRST PEASANT. If the affair can be put into action, truly
we might put her in a gold frame.
SECOND PEASANT. That goes without saying!
TÁNYA. I can't promise for certain, but as the saying is :
"An attempt is no sin, if you try
>>
FIRST PEASANT. "You may win." That's just so.
Enter Theodore Ivánitch.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. No, friends, it's no go! He has not
done it, and he won't do it. Here, take your document.
You may go.
FIRST PEASANT [gives Tánya the paper] Then it's on you
we pin all our reliance, for example.
TÁNYA. Yes, yes! You go into the street, and I'll run
out to you in a minute and have a word with you.
Exeunt Peasants.
TÁNYA. Theodore Ivánitch, dear Theodore Ivánitch, ask
the master to come out and speak to me for a moment.
I have something to say to him.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. What next?
Fruits of Culture
161
TÁNYA. I must, Theodore Ivánitch. Ask him, do; there's
nothing wrong about it, on my sacred word.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. But what do you want with him?
TÁNYA. That's a little secret. I will tell you later on,
only ask him.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [smiling] I can't think what you are
up to! All right, I'll go and ask him. [Exit].
TÁNYA. I'll do it! Didn't he say himself that there is
that power in Simon? And I know how to manage. No
one found me out that time, and now I'll teach Simon
what to do. If it doesn't succeed it's no great matter.
After all it's not a sin.
Enter Leonid Fyodoritch followed by Theodore Ivánitch.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [smiling] Is this the petitioner?
Well, what is your business?
TÁNYA. It's a little secret, Leonid Fyódoritch; let me
tell it you alone.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. What is it? Theodore, leave us
for a minute.
Exit Theodore Ivánitch.
Tánya. As I have grown up and lived in your house,
Leonid Fyodoritch, and as I am very grateful to you for
everything, I shall open my heart to you as to a father.
Simon, who is living in your house, wants to marry me.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. So that's it!
TÁNYA. I open my heart to you as to a father! I have
no one to advise me, being an orphan.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Well, and why not?
nice lad.
He seems a
TÁNYA. Yes, that's true. He would be all right; there
is only one thing I have my doubts about. It's something
about him that I have noticed and can't make out . . .
perhaps it is something bad.
Leonid fyódORITCH. What is it? Does he drink?
TÁNYA. God forbid! But since I know that there is
such a thing as spiritalism
•
L
162
Fruits of Culture
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Ah, you know that?
TÁNYA. Of course! I understand it very well. Some,
of course, through ignorance, don't understand it.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well, what then?
TÁNYA. I am very much afraid for Simon.
happen to him.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. What happens to him?
It does
TÁNYA. Something of a kind like spiritalism. You ask
any of the servants. As soon as he gets drowsy at the
table, the table begins to tremble, and creak like that:
tuke, .. tuke! All the servants have heard it.
•
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Why, it's the very thing I was
saying to Sergéy Ivánitch this morning! Yes? . .
TÁNYA. Or else . . . when was it? Oh yes, last
Wednesday. We sat down to dinner, and the spoon just
jumps into his hand of itself!
.
LEONID FYODORITCH. Ah, that is interesting! Jumps
into his hand? When he was drowsing?
TÁNYA. That I didn't notice. I think he was, though.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Yes?
TÁNYA. And that's what I'm afraid of, and what I wanted
to ask you about.
about. May not some harm come of it? To
live one's life together, and him having such a thing in
him!
It only proves him to be a
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [smiling] No, you need not be afraid,
there is nothing bad in that.
medium—simply a medium.
before this.
I knew him to be a medium
TÁNYA. So that's what it is! And I was afraid!
•
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. No, there's nothing to be afraid of.
[Aside]. That's capital! Kaptchítch can't come, so we
will test him to-night. .. [To Tánya] No, my dear,
don't be afraid, he will be a good husband and . . that
is only a kind of special power, and every one has it, only
in some it is weaker and in others stronger.
TÁNYA. Thank you, sir. Now I shan't think any more
Fruits of Culture
163
about it; but I was so frightened. . . . What a thing it
is, our want of education!
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. No, no, don't be frightened.
Theodore !
Enter Theodore Ivánitch.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. I am going out now. Get every-
thing ready for to-night's séance.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. But Mr. Kaptchítch is not coming.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. That does not matter. [Puts on over-
coat] We shall have a trial séance with our own medium.
[Exit. Theodore Ivánitch goes out with him].
TÁNYA [alone] He believes it! He believes it! [Shrieks
and jumps with joy] He really believes it! Isn't it won-
derful! [Shrieks] Now I'll do it, if only Simon has pluck
for it!
Theodore Ivánitch returns.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Well, have you told him your secret?
TÁNYA. I'll tell you too, only later on.
favour to ask of you too, Theodore Ivánitch.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Yes? What is it?
But I have a
TÁNYA [shyly] You have been a second father to me,
and I will open my heart before you as before God.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Don't beat about the bush, but
come straight to the point.
TÁNYA. The point is . .
wants to marry me.
well, the point is, that Simon
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Is that it? I thought I noticed .
TÁNYA. Well, why should I hide it? I am an orphan,
and you know yourself how matters are in these town
establishments. Every one comes bothering; there's that
Gregory Miháylitch, for instance, he gives me no peace.
And also that other one you know. They think I
have no soul, and am only here for their amusement.
•
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Good girl, that's right! Well, what
then?
TÁNYA. Well, Simon wrote to his father; and he, his
164
Fruits of Culture
his son.
father, sees me to-day, and says: "He's spoilt "-he means
Theodore Ivánitch [bows], 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 IVÁNITCH [smiling] Then I am to turn match-
maker-am I? Well, I can do that.
TÁNYA. Theodore Ivánitch, dearest, be a father to me,
and I'll pray for you all my life long.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. All right, all right, I'll come later on.
Haven't I promised? [Takes up newspaper].
TÁNYA. You are a second father to me!
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. All right, all right.
TÁNYA. Then I'll rely on you. [Exit].
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [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 Ferdinand is up to in Bul-
garia.
Curtain.
ACT II
Evening of the same day. The scene represents the interior
of the servants' kitchen. The Peasants have taken off their
outer garments and sit drinking tea at the table, and perspiring.
Theodore Ivánitch 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.
If
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. My advice is, don't hinder him!
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 course, 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 IVÁNITCH. That does not depend on the spruce-
ness, but on character. If her nature is good, she's sure
to be docile and respectful.
SECOND PEASANT. Ah, well, we'll have 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 IVÁNITCH. Then let's shake hands on it!
SECOND PEASANT. Well, it seems 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.
165
166
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 IVÁNITCH. That's not at all necessary. [An
awkward silence].
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. 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 very 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 IVÁNITCH. 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 IVÁNITCH. Well, we'll see. 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 IVÁNITCH. He'd do it willingly.
SECOND PEASANT. It seems he's afraid of his wife.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. 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 IVÁNITCH. We'll see what comes of Tanya's
attempt. She's taken the business into her hands now!
Fruits of Culture
167
THIRD PEASANT [takes a sip of tea] 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 IVÁNITCH. 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
Tánya?
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 Ivánitch.
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 Kaptchítch!
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. You don't say so!
SERVANTS' COOK. Yes, Jacob told Tánya.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Extraordinary!
Enter Coachman.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. What do you want?
COACHMAN [to Theodore Ivánitch] 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 IVÁNITCH. 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 IVÁNITCH. But when 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!
168
Fruits of Culture
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Yes, that will never do. I'll go
and ask about it.
COACHMAN. They'd better be brought here to Loukérya.
SERVANTS' COOK [angrily] 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 IVÁNITCH. I must ask Vasily Leoníditch.
COACHMAN [angrily] 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 door].
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. 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 Ivánitch.
As soon as he is gone a sound of groaning is heard from the
top of the oven.
SECOND PEASANT. He's sleek, 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 [on 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
169
SECOND PEASANT. And does 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. Have 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 the 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 laugh].
SERVANTS' COOK. As soon as, by God's grace, they have
opened their eyes, the samovár is brought in-tea, coffee,
chocolate. Hardly is the second samovár emptied, a third
170
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 live 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. Tánya says,
Fruits of Culture
171
"Do it, and we'll get the land for our peasants; he'll sell
it them."
SECOND PEASANT. But how is she 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 Tánya 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 whether have
taken all your wages yet.
you
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've 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 seem 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 Mítry here, is already on the
look-out for your place; he's hankering after a life of
luckshury!
SIMON. Eh, Daddy Mítry, 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!
172
Fruits of Culture
THIRD PEASANT. Why, do they eat all the time ?
SERVANTS' COOK. My eye!
we had here awhile ago.
upstairs and I peeped in.
You should have seen what
Theodore Ivánitch took me
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' COOKк. 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
oven] 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
173
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 his 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.
Exit Simon.
JACOB. I haven't time. However, I'll just have one cup
for company's sake.
FIRST PEASANT. And we've 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.
174
Fruits of Culture
cc
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 believe 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. Nonsense!
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.
side Moscow once: a cross,
I served at a General's out-
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
175
Then
then I'll come." Well, they agreed, and he came.
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 easy 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.
see Loukérya.
He comes to
FIRST PEASANT. Kitchen-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
Loukérya.
Enter Servants' Cook with the sour cabbage.
JACOB [to Servants' Cook] I see you've got Paul Petróv-
itch here again?
SERVANTS' COOK. And where's he to go to? Is he to g
and freeze?
176
Fruits of Culture
THIRD PEASANT. What liquor does.
Liquor, let's say
[Clicks his tongue sympathetically].
SECOND PEASANT. Of course. A firm man's firm as a
rock; a weak man's weaker than water.
DISCHARGED COOK [gets off the oven with trembling hands and
legs] Loukérya, I say, give us a drop!
SERVANTS' COOK. What are you up to? I'll give you
such a drop!
DISCHARGED COOK. Have 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 vódka-just one little drop. Loukérya !
THIRD PEASANT. Poor old soul, what agony it is!
SECOND PEASANT. You'd better give him some.
SERVANTS' COOK [gets out a bottle and fills a wine-glass]
Here you are; you'll get no more.
DISCHARGED COOK [clutches hold of it and drinks, trembling
all over] Loukérya, Cook! I am drinking, and you must
understand
•
SERVANTS' COOK. Now then, stop your chatter! Get on
to the oven, and let 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 goes 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
177
here. How is she? What is she like?
living—I mean, does she live honest?
How is she
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 Tánya 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 Cook].
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. Those devils pity? No fear! [He
hangs his legs down from 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!"
THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord!
DISCHARGED COOK. Much you know. What is “Sautey a
la Bongmont"? What is "Bavassary"? Oh, the things
M
178
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 Ivánitch or some one may come in, and
both you and me'll be turned out! [Silence].
JACOB. And do you know my part of the country? I'm
from Voznesénsky.
Do
SECOND PEASANT. Not know it? Why, it's no more'n
ten miles from our village; not that across the ford!
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 Anísim is your brother?
JACOB. Own brother. He lives at the farther end of the
village.
SECOND PEASANT. Of course, I know; his is the third
house.
Enter Tánya, running.
TÁNYA. Jacob, what are you doing, amusing yourself
here? She is calling you!
And she's scold-
"He's no feel-
JACOB. I'm coming; but what's up?
Tánya. Frisk is barking; it's hungry.
ing you.
"How cruel he is," she says.
ing," she says. "It's long past Frisk's dinner-time, and
he has not brought her food!" [Laughs].
JACOB [rises 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. [Takes basin, and exit].
FIRST PEASANT. Who is going to dine
TÁNYA. Why, the dog! It's her dog.
up the tea-pot] Is there any more tea?
[Puts fresh tea into the tea-pot.]
now?
[Sits down and takes
I've brought some.
Fruits of Culture
179
FIRST peasant. Dinner for a dog?
TÁNYA. Yes, 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!
tánya. It's like that gentleman who had a funeral for
his dog.
SECOND PEASANT. What's that?
TÁNYA. 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 daresay he thinks to himself,
"If your own self was to kick the bucket I'd not cry."
[Laughs].
DISCHARGED COOK [from up on the oven] That is true; that's
right!
TÁNYA. 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
vódka," 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, lassie, but you've set us a-laughing!
TÁNYA [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
180
Fruits of Culture
better in the country. [Peasants turn their cups upside-down,
as a polite sign that they have had enough. Tánya pours out
more tea] Have some more, Efím Antónitch. I'll fill your
cup, Mítry Vlásitch.
THIRD PEASANT. All right, fill it, fill it.
FIRST PEASANT. Well, dear, and what progression is our
business making?
TÁNYA. It's getting on
FIRST PEASANT. Simon told us
TÁNYA [quickly] Did he?
•
SECOND PEASANT. But he could not make us understand.
TÁNYA. I can't tell you now, but I'm doing my best—all
I can! And I've got your paper here! [Show's 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 lose that paper, mind. It has cost
money.
TÁNYA. 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-down] I've had
enough.
TÁNYA [aside] He'll sign it; you'll see he will.
some more. [Pours out tea].
Have
FIRST PEASANT. If only you get this business about the
sale of the land settled, the Commune would pay your
marriage expenses. [Refuses the tea].
TÁNYA [pouring out tea] Do have another cup.
THIRD PEASANT. You get it done, 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 born days, I'll dance
then!
TÁNYA [laughing] All right, I'll be in hopes of it. [Silence].
SECOND PEASANT [examines Tánya] That's all very well,
but you're not fit for peasant work.
TÁNYA. Who? I? Why, don't you think me strong
Fruits of Culture
181
enough?
You should see
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?
tánya. 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.
TÁNYA. 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?
TÁNYA. For a reason!
SECOND PEASANT. Why, is she doing penance ?
TÁNYA. No, it's for beauty's sake!
FIRST PEASANT. That's to say, you pull in her paunch for
appearance' sake.
TÁNYA. 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].
TÁNYA. But here, I've been jabbering. [Runs away,
laughing].
THIRD PEASANT. Ah, the lassie has made us laugh!
FIRST PEASANT. She's a tidy one !
SECOND PEASANT. She's not bad.
Enter Sahátof and Vasily Leoniditch. Sahátof holds a tea-
spoon in his hand.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Not exactly a dinner, but a déjeuner
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!
SAHÁTOF. Yes, yes, that's all very well, but we came here
to hide this article. Where shall we hide it?
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Excuse me a moment. [To Servants'
Cook] Where are the dogs?
182
Fruits of Culture
SERVANTS' COOK. In the coachman's quarters. You can't
keep dogs in the servants' kitchen!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Ah, in the coachman's quarters? All
right.
SAHÁTOF. I am waiting.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Excuse me, please. 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 for d'ye want my pocket?
You're
a good 'un! My pocket! There's money in my pocket!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Where's your bag, then?
THIRD PEASANT. What for?
SERVANTS' COOK. What d'you mean? That's the young
master!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [laughs. To Sahátof] D'you know why
he's so frightened? Shall I tell you? He's got a heap of
money. Eh, what?
SAHÁTOF. 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.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. All right! [To Peasants] Well then,
old fellows, how about the land? Are you buying it?
Eh, what?
FIRST PEASANT. We have made an offering, so to say, with
our whole heart. But there, the business don't come into
action nohow.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. 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 to let
out a fowl.
Fruits of Culture
183
SAHÁTOF [having put the spoon into a bag belonging to the
Third Peasant] C'est fait. Ready. Come along. [Exit].
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. So don't be stingy! Eh? Well,
good-bye. [Exit].
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-down, 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 save 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 corn 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.
184
Fruits of Culture
THIRD PEASANT. You're 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 by sighs. Then
footsteps and voices are heard outside. The door opens. Enter
Grossman hurriedly, with his eyes bandaged, holding Sahátof's
hand, and followed by the Professor and the Doctor, the Fat
Lady and Leonid Fyódoritch, Betsy and Petristchef, Vasily
Leoniditch and Márya Konstantínovna, Anna Pavlovna and
the Baroness, Theodore Ivánitch and Tánya].
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
and am strictly
fulfilling my duty! Mr. Sahátof, are you not leading
him?
SAHÁTOF. Of course not!
FAT LADY. You must not lead him, but neither must you
resist! [To Leonid Fyodoritch] 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 FYODORITCH. 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
•
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. 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 ?¹
Anna PávlovNA. Je ne saurais vous dire.
1 BARONESS. But tell me, please, is he paid for this?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I really do not know.
Fruits of Culture
185
BARONESS. Mais c'est un monsieur ? 1
anna pávlovnA. Oh, oui!
BARONESS. Ça tient du miraculeux.
ment est-ce qu'il trouve ?
Nest ce pas ? Com-
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Je ne saurais vous dire. Mon mari vous
l'expliquera. [Noticing Peasants, turns round, and sees the
Servants' Cook] Pardon what is this?
•
•
Baroness goes up to the group.
Anna pávlovna [to Servants' Cook] Who let the peasants
in ?
SERVANTS' COOK. Jacob brought them in.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Who gave Jacob the order?
SERVANTS' COOK. I can't say. Theodore Ivánitch has
seen them.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Leonid!
Leonid Fyodoritch does not hear, being absorbed in the search,
and says, Sh..
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Theodore Ivánitch! 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 IVÁNITCH. 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 PÁVLOVNA. 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
•
1 BARONESS. But he is a gentleman ?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Oh yes!
BARONESS. It is almost miraculous.
manage to find things?
Isn't it? How does he
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I really can't tell you. My husband will
explain it to you.
•
Excuse me. . . .
186
Fruits of Culture
diphtheria! [No one heeds her, and she steps aside in a
dignified manner and stands quietly waiting].
PETRÍSTCHEF [Sniffs loudly] I don't know if it is diph-
theria, 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 ?
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. That one, that one. He is getting
near, very near!
PETRÍSTCHEF. 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.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. He's getting near, I tell you.
what?
Eh,
GROSSMAN [searches excitedly round the Third Peasant] It is
here; I feel it is!
FAT LADY. Do you feel an effluence? [Grossman stoops
and finds the spoon in the bag].
ALL. Bravo! [General enthusiasm].
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. 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!
I didn't take it, and my
I didn't take it-there!
What are you making out?
soul knows nothing about it.
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.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [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 be
coming to] Can I have a little water? [All fuss round
him.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Let's go straight from here into the
Fruits of Culture
187
coachman's room. I've got a bitch there-épátante!¹
Eh, what?
BETSY. What a horrid word. Couldn't you say dog?
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. No. I can't say-Betsy is a man,
épátant. I should have to say young woman; it's a parallel
case. Eh, what? Márya Konstantínovna, isn't it true?
Good, eh? [Laughs loudly].
MÁRYA KONSTANTINOVNA. Well, let us go. [Exeunt Márya
Konstantínovna, Betsy, Petrístchef, and Vasily Leoníditch].
FAT LADY [to Grossman] Well? how are you? Have
you rested? [Grossman does not answer. To Sahátof] And
you, Mr. Sahátof, did you feel the effluence?
SAHÁTOF. I felt nothing. Yes, it was very fine-very
fine. Quite a success!
BARONESS. Admirable ! Ça ne le fait pas souffrir? 2
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Pas le moins du monde.
3
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 Grossman] One moment! The condition
you were in could not be called sleep?
GROSSMAN [wearily] It was hypnosis.
SAHÁTOF. 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 BARONESS. Capital! Does it not cause him any pain?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Not the slightest.
3 He uses a Centigrade thermometer.
188
Fruits of Culture
SAHÁTOF. 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.
SAHÁTOF. A moment, just a moment!
definition, but Liébault told me himself . . .
That is your
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 Sahátof] But I think I
interrupted you?
SAHÁTOF [with 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 Sahátof] You were saying?
. .
SAHÁTOF. I wished to say that Liébault 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, Liébault 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
189
All talking together.
SAHÁTOF. Yes, but I don't reject Charcot's labour:
I know him also, I am only repeating what Liébault
told me
•
GROSSMAN [excitedly] There are 3000 patients in
the Salpêtrière, 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
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. However, we had better go upstairs
again. Baroness, this way!
Exeunt Grossman, Sahátof, Professor, Doctor, the Fat Lady,
and Baroness, talking loudly and interrupting each other.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [catching hold of Leonid Fyodoritch'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 FYÓDORITCH. What? How? I don't understand
what you mean.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. How? Why, people ill of diphtheria
sleep in the kitchen, which is in constant communication
with the whole house.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Yes, but I . . .
Anna pávlovnA. What, I?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. I know nothing about it.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. It's your duty to know, if you are the
head of the family. Such things must not be done.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. But I never thought... I thought...
anna pávlovna. It is sickening to listen to you! [Leonid
Fyodoritch remains silent].
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [to Theodore Ivánitch] 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
190
Fruits of Culture
here! And with my illness . . . [Gets more and more ex-
cited, and at last begins to cry] Doctor! Doctor! Peter
Petróvitch!
He's gone
gone too! . [Exit, sobbing,
followed by Leonid Fyódoritch].
All stand silent for a long time.
THIRD PEASANT. Botheration 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 IVÁNITCH [to Tánya] What are we to do?
TÁNYA. Never mind, Theodore Ivánitch, let them sleep
with the coachman.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. How can we do that? The coach-
man was complaining as it is, that his place is full of dogs.
TÁNYA. Well then, the porter's lodge.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. And supposing it's found out?
TÁNYA. It won't be found out! Don't trouble about
that, Theodore Ivánitch. How can one turn them out
now, at night? They'll not find anywhere to go to.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Well, do as you please. Only they
must go away from here. [Exit].
Peasants take their bags.
DISCHARGED COOK. Oh those damned fiends! It's all
their fat! Fiends!
SERVANTS' COOK. You be quiet there.
they didn't see you!
Thank goodness
TÁNYA. 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?
TÁNYA. We'll see in an hour's time.
SECOND PEASANT. You'll do the trick?
TÁNYA [laughs] Yes, God willing!
Curtain.
ACT III
Evening of the same day. A small drawing-room in Leonid
Fyodoritch's house, where the séances are always held. Leonid
Fyódoritch and the Professor.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well then, shall we risk a séance
with our new medium ?
He is a powerful medium,
And it is especially desir-
PROFESSOR. Yes, certainly.
there is no doubt about it.
able that the séance 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.
LEONÍD fyÓDORITCH. 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 Sahátof.
SAHÁTOF. They have just settled down to whist in Anna
Pávlovna's drawing-room, and as I am not wanted there
—and as I am interested in your séance-I have put in
an appearance here. But will there be a séance ?
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Yes, certainly!
SAHÁTOF. In spite of the absence of Mr. Kaptchítch's
mediumistic powers?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Vous avez la main heureuse.¹ Fancy,
1 LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. You bring good luck.
191
192
Fruits of Culture
that very peasant whom I mentioned to you this morning,
turns out to be an undoubted medium.
SAHÁTOF. Dear me! Yes, that is peculiarly interesting!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Yes, we tried a few preliminary
experiments with him just after dinner.
SAHÁTOF. So you've had time already to experiment, and
to convince yourself . .
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Yes, perfectly! And he turns out
to be an exceptionally powerful medium.
SAHÁTOF [incredulously] Dear me !
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. It turns 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 Professor] Had you heard about it?
PROFESSOR. No, I had not heard that detail.
SAHÁTOF [to the Professor]. But still, you admit the pos-
sibility of such phenomena ?
PROFESSOR. What phenomena ?
SAHÁTOF. 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 ?
SAHÁTOF. Well, of course; but phenomena such as the
magnet attracting iron always repeat themselves.
PROFESSOR. It is just the 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
193
SAHÁTOF. Yes, certainly, but .
Enter Tánya, who hides behind the hangings.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Only remember that we cannot
reckon on any results with certainty, with this medium
any more than with Home or Kaptchítch. We may not
succeed, but on the other hand we may even have perfect
materialisation.
SAHÁTOF. Materialisation even? What do you mean by
materialisation ?
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. 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
Alexéy 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 Pávlovna has allowed me to join you.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Very pleased.
FAT LADY. Oh, how tired Grossman seems! He could
scarcely hold his cup. Did you notice [to 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 Pávlovna.
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, Véra Kónshin (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
N
194
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 speak] Clearly proves .
FAT LADY. Yes, no!
say, "loss of strength."
when I travelled with
Allow me, just one word! You
And I was also going to say that,
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.
SAHÁTOF [smiling] Yes; oh yes!
Leonid Fyodoritch rings.
FAT LADY. I am awake one night, and another, and a
third, and still I can't sleep!
Enter Gregory.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Please tell Theodore to get every-
thing ready for the séance, and send Simon here-Simon,
the butler's assistant,—do you hear?
GREGORY. Yes, sir. [Exit].
PROFESSOR [to Sahátof]. 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 yes, yes; 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...
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Let'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
195
know.
What is the use of maintaining that the common
people are all perfect, when I have myself seen
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Won't you come into the drawing-
room ?
FAT LADY. A boy—that high-who drank! I
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.
Tánya enters from behind the hangings.
TÁNYA. Oh, if it would only succeed! [Begins fastening
some threads].
Enter Betsy hurriedly.
BETSY. Isn't papa here? [Looks inquiringly at Tánya]
What are you doing here?
TÁNYA. Oh, Miss Elizabeth, I have only just come;
only wished. only came in
•
[Embarrassed].
I
BETSY. But they are going to have a séance here
directly. [Notices Tánya drawing in the threads, looks at her,
and suddenly bursts out laughing] Tánya! 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!
tánya. Miss Elizabeth, dearest !
BETSY [delighted] Oh, that is a joke! Well, I never!
But why do you do it?
TÁNYA. Oh miss, dear miss, don't betray me!
BETSY. Not for the world! I'm awfully glad. Only
tell me how you manage it?
TÁNYA. Well, I just hide, and then, when it's all dark, I
come out and do it. That's how.
BETSY [pointing to threads] And what is this for? You
needn't tell me. I see; you draw
TÁNYA. 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?
196
Fruits of Culture
TÁNYA. 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 Ivánitch,
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?
TÁNYA. 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?
TÁNYA. 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!
Tánya. 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.
TÁNYA. Oh, never mind. It's all one; I daresay it'll
turn out all right.
Enter Theodore Ivánitch.
Exit Betsy, making signs to Tánya.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Why are you here?
TÁNYA. It's you I want, Theodore Ivánitch, dear . .
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Well, what is it?
tánya. About that affair of mine as I spoke of.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [laughs] I've 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
197
TÁNYA [with a shrick] Never! So it's all right?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Don't I tell you so? He says, "I
shall consult the missus, and then, God willing
TÁNYA. Is that what he said? [Shrieks] Dear Theodore
Ivánitch, I'll pray for you all the days of my life!
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. All right! All right! Now is not
the time. I've been ordered to arrange the room for the
séance.
tánya. Let me help you. How's it to be arranged?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. How?
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 Ivánitch to place the things] Is that
right? The guitar here, and here the inkstand. [Places
it] So?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Can it be true that they'll make
Simon sit here?
TÁNYA. I suppose so; they've done it once.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Wonderful! [Puts on his pince-nez]
But is he clean?
TÁNYA. How should I know?
IVÁNITCH.
THEODORE IVánitch. Then, I'll tell you what . .
TÁNYA. Yes, Theodore Ivánitch ?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. 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.
TÁNYA. He can do it himself.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Well then, tell him to. And tell
him to put on a clean shirt as well.
tánya. All right, Theodore Ivánitch. [Exit].
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [sits down in an easy-chair] They're
educated and learned-Alexéy Vladímiritch 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
198
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 Fyódoritch sitting by. . . . Extraordinary
human weakness!
Enter Leonid Fyódoritch.
LEONÍd fyÓDORITCH. Is it all ready?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [rising leisurely] Quite ready. [Smiles]
Only I don't know about your new medium. I hope he
won't disgrace you, Leonid Fyodoritch.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. No, I and Alexéy Vladímiritch have
tested him. He is a wonderfully powerful medium !
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. 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 FYÓDORITCH. His hands? Oh yes! They're not
clean, you think
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. What can you expect?
He's a
peasant, and there will be ladies present, and Márya
Vasilevna.
LEONID FYODORITCH. It will be all right.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. And then I have something to report
to you. Timothy, the coachman, complains that he can't
keep things clean because of the dogs.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [arranging the things on the table absent-
mindedly] What dogs?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. The three hounds that came for
Vasíly Leoníditch to-day.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [vered] Tell Anna Pávlovna! She
can do as she likes about it. I have no time.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. But you know her weakness
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. 'Tis just as she likes, let her do as
t
{
{
Fruits of Culture
199
she pleases. As for him,-one never gets anything but
unpleasantness from him. Besides, I am busy.
Enter Simon, smiling; he has a sleeveless peasant's coat on.
SIMON. I was ordered to come.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. 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.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. 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
Do you understand ?
SIMON. How could one help understanding? It's simple
enough.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. 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 IVÁNITCH [improving on what Leonid Fyódoritch
has said] Invisible feelings, do you understand?
SIMON [laughs] How can one help understanding! It's
very plain as you put it.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. 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.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well then, I'll go and call them
all. . . . Is everything ready?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. I think so.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. But the slates?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. They are downstairs.
them. [Exit].
I'll bring
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. All right then. So don't be afraid,
but be at your ease.
200
Fruits of Culture
SIMON. Had I not better take off my coat? One would
be more easy like.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Your coat?
that off.
[Exit].
Oh no.
Don't take
SIMON. She tells me to do the same again, and she will
again shy things about. How isn't she afraid?
Enter Tánya in her stockings and in a dress of the colour of
the wall-paper. Simon laughs.
TÁNYA. 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.
•
TÁNYA. 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. [Howls 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.
TÁNYA. 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.
TÁNYA. 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
201
Enter Grossman and the Professor, Leonid Fyódoritch and
the Fat Lady, the Doctor, Sahátof and Anna Pávlovna. Simon
stands near the door.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Please come in, all you doubters!
Though we have a new and accidentally discovered
medium, I expect very important phenomena to-night.
SAHÁTOF. That's very, very interesting.
FAT LADY [pointing to Simon] Mais il est très bien ! 1
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Yes, as a butler's assistant, but hardly.
SAHÁTOF. Wives never have any faith in their husbands'
work. You don't believe in anything of this kind?
Anna Pávlovna. Of course not. Kaptchítch, it is true,
has something exceptional about him, but Heaven knows
what all this is about!
FAT LADY. No, Anna Pávlovna, permit me, you can't
decide it in such a way. Before I was married, I once
had a remarkable dream.
Before
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 Petrístchef and Vasíly
Leoniditch] deny everything.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. But look here, you know—now I,
for instance, never deny anything! Eh, what?
Betsy and Márya Konstantínovna 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 beau-frère
-what's the other name for it ?-I never can remember
the names of these different relationships—well, he went
1 FAT LADY. But he looks quite nice.
{
202
Fruits of Culture
there three nights running, and still he saw nothing; so
I said to him . . .
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Well, who is going to stay here?
FAT LADY. I! I!
SAHÁTOF. I.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [to Doctor] Do you mean to say you are
going to stay?
DOCTOR. Yes; I must see, if only once, what it is that
Alexéy Vladimiritch has discovered in it. How can we
deny anything without proofs ?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. 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 PÁVLOVNA. Yes please, 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.
FAT LADY. Oh, certainly.
SAHátof. Yes, thanks!
Exit Anna Pávlovna.
I pro-
BETSY [to Petristchef] You must stay, I tell you.
mise you something extraordinary. Will you bet?
MÁRYA KONSTAntínovna. But you don't believe in it ?
BETSY. To-day I do.
MÁRYA KONSTANTINOVNA [to Petristchef] And do you be-
lieve?
PETRÍSTCHEF. “I can't believe, I cannot trust a heart
for falsehood framed." Still, if Elizabeth Leonídovna
commands.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Let us stay, Márya Konstantínovna.
Eh, what? I shall invent something épatant.
MÁRYA KONSTANTÍNOVNA. No, you mustn't make me laugh.
You know I can't restrain myself.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH [loud] I remain !
Fruits of Culture
203
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [severely] 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.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Oh, but supposing it's true? Won't
it be a go! Eh, what?
PETRÍSTCHEF [trembles] Oh, I'm afraid, I'm afraid! Márya
Konstantínova, I'm afraid! My tootsies tremble.
BETSY [laughing] Not so loud.
All sit down.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Take your seats, take your seats.
Simon, sit down!
SIMON. Yes, sir. [Sits down on the edge of the chair].
leoníd fyódoriITCH. Sit properly.
PROFESSOR. Sit straight in the middle of the chair, and
quite at your ease. [Arranges Simon on his chair].
Betsy, Márya Konstantínovna and Vasily Leoniditch laugh.
LEONÍD FYODORITCH [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!
vovo. Quite quiet! [Hides behind Fat Lady].
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Alexéy Vladimiritch, will you mes-
merise him?
PROFESSOR. No; why should I do it when Antón Borísitch
is here? He has had far more practice and has more
power in that department than I. . . . Antón Borísitch!
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, anæsthesia, analgesia, catalepsy, and every kind of
204
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 witness, and what is their scientific sig-
nificance.
SAHÁTOF. I thoroughly agree with Mr. Grossman. Such
an explanation would be very interesting.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. I think Alexéy 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.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Yes, please; briefly, quite briefly.
DOCTOR. All right. [Takes 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. .
PETRÍSTCHEF. Prosy matter! [Whispering and laughter].
PROFESSOR [pauses, then continues] Molecules are com-
posed of atoms, but the atoms, having no extension, are
Fruits of Culture
205
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.
Renewed whispering and laughter among the young people.
PROFESSOR [stops and 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 severely] 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
206
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.
ful .
I am so grate-
LEONID FYODORITCH. Yes, but Alexéy Vladímiritch, 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.
•
SAHÁTOF. 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 séances) 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
207
FAT LADY [to Sahatof] What is it that puzzles you? It
is so simple. . . Thank you so, so much!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. 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 down]
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 FYÓDORITCH. Yes, yes. But excuse me a moment.
I should like to reply to Sergey Ivánitch'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 séance 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 FYÓDORITCH. Quite possibly.
PROFESSOR. I think it is time we began.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. I was only going to say
PROFESSOR. It is getting late.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Very well. Then we will com-
mence. Antón Borísitch, be so good as to hypnotise the
medium.
208
Fruits of Culture
GROSSMAN. What method would you like me to use?
There are several methods. There is Braid's system,
there is the Egyptian symbol, and there is Charcot's
system.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH [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 fyódorITCH. If you please!
Grossman waves his arms above Simon. Simon closes his
eyes and stretches himself.
GROSSMAN [looking 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 anesthesia. He is remarkable,-an unusually impres-
sionable subject, and might be subjected to interest-
ing experiments! [Sits down, rises, sits down again]
Now one might run a needle into his arm.
If you
like . .
•
PROFESSOR [to Leonid Fyódoritch] Do you notice how the
medium's trance acts on Grossman? He is beginning to
vibrate.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Yes, yes
tinguished now?
•
•
can the lights be ex-
SAHÁTOF. 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.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. 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 FYODORITCH. Yes, certainly. [Puts out candles]
Ladies and gentlemen! attention, if you please.
Fruits of Culture
209
Tánya gets from under the sofa and takes hold of a thread
tied to a chandelier.
as
PETRÍSTCHEF. I like that Spaniard! Just in the midst
of a conversation-off he goes head downwards
the French say: piquer une tête.¹
•
BETSY. You just wait a bit, and see what will happen!
PETRÍSTCHEF. I have only one fear, and that is that Vovo
may be moved by the spirit to grunt like a pig!
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. Would you like me to? I will
Leonid FYÓDORITCH. Gentlemen! Silence, if you please!
Silence. Simon licks the matches on his fingers and rubs his
knuckles with them.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. A light! Do you see the light?
SAHÁTOF. 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 Fyódoritch, and points to
Grossman, who is moving] Do you notice how he vibrates?
It is the dual influence. [The light appears again].
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [to the Professor] It must be he―
you know!
SAHÁTOF. Who?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. A Greek, Nicholas. It is his light.
Don't you think so, Alexéy Vladímiritch?
SAHÁTOF. 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.
LEONID FYODORITCH. He is not yet visible . . .
. . . Alexéy
Vladimiritch, he is particularly well disposed towards you.
You question him.
PROFESSOR [in a peculiar voice] Nicholas! Is that you ?
Tánya raps twice on the wall,
1 To take a header.
210
Fruits of Culture
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [joyfully] It is he! It is he!
FAT LADY. Oh dear! Oh! I shall go away!
SAHÁTOF. Why do you suppose it is he?
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Why, the two knocks. It is an
affirmative answer; else all would have been silence.
Silence. Suppressed giggling in the young people's corner.
Tánya throws a lampshade, pencil and penwiper upon the
table.
LEONID FYODORITCH [whispers] Do you notice, gentlemen,
here is a lamp-shade, and something else a pencil! . . .
Alexéy 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.
SAHÁTOF. Excuse me, excuse me! I should like to see
whether it is not the medium who is doing it all himself?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Do you think so? Well, sit by him
and hold his hands. But you may be sure he is asleep.
SAHÁTOF [approaches. Tánya 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 Fyódoritch] 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].
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Yes.
Nicholas without an answer.
But we cannot leave
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 Fyódoritch] 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
211
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
•
Leonid fyódorITCH. Silence, if you please.
Tánya draws a thread over the Fat Lady's head.
FAT LADY. Aie!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. What? What is it?
FAT LADY. He took hold of my hair!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [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!
SAHÁTOF. Yes, it is strange, very strange!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. He is here and is seeking for inter-
course. Who wishes to put a question to him?
SAHÁTOF. I should like to put a question, if I may.
PROFESSOR. Please do.
SAHÁTOF. Do I believe or not?
Tánya knocks twice.
PROFESSOR. The answer is affirmative.
SAHÁTOF. Allow me to ask again. Have I a ten rouble
note in my pocket?
Tánya knocks several times and passes a thread over
Sahátof's head.
SAHÁTOF. 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!
SAHÁTOF. No, but allow me! Here I have a thread in my
hand!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. A thread? Hold it fast; that
happens often, and not only threads but sometimes even
silk cords-very ancient ones!
SAHÁTOF. No-but where did this thread come from?
Tánya throws a cushion at him,
212
Fruits of Culture
SAHÁTOF. Wait a bit; wait! Something soft has hit me
on the head. Light a candle-there is something
PROFESSOR. 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?
I?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Yes, if you like.
FAT LADY. I should like to ask about my digestion. May
I want to know what to take: aconite or belladonna ?
Silence, whispers among the young people; suddenly Vasily
Leoniditch begins to cry like a baby:
"ou-a, ou-a !
[Laughter.] 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!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [beside himself with anger, whispers]
One gets nothing but tomfoolery from you! If you don't
know how to behave decently, go away!
Exit Vasily Leoníditch. Darkness and silence.
FAT LADY. Oh, what a pity! Now one can't ask any
more! He is born!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. 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 Fyódoritch, will you?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. No, you, if you please. This has
upset me. So unpleasant! Such want of tact!..
PROFESSOR. Very well. . . . Nicholas, are you here?
Tánya raps twice and rings. Simon roars, spreads his arms
out, seizes Sahátof and the Professor-squeezing them.
PROFESSOR. What an unexpected phenomenon! The
medium himself reacted upon! This never happened
before! Leonid Fyódoritch, 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!
A
Fruits of Culture
213
Tánya throws the peasants' paper on the table.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. Something has fallen upon the table.
PROFESSOR. See what it is!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Paper! A folded paper!
Tánya throws a travelling inkstand on the table.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. An inkstand!
Tánya throws a pen.
LEONID FYODORITCH. A pen!
Simon roars and squeezes.
PROFESSOR [crushed] Wait a bit, wait: a totally new mani-
festation! The action proceeding not from the mediumistic
energy produced, but from the medium himself! How-
ever, open the inkstand, and put the pen on the table, and
he will write!
Tánya goes behind Leonid Fyódoritch and strikes him on the
head with the guitar.
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. 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 !
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [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.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Nicholas, do you wish . .
Tánya knocks twice.
PROFESSOR. Do you hear? It is quite
evident!
Leonid Fyodoritch takes the
paper and
pen and
goes out.
accordion, and then
Tánya knocks, plays on the guitar and the
creeps under the sofa. Leonid Fyódoritch returns. Simon
stretches himself and coughs.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. He is waking up. We can light
the candles.
214
Fruits of Culture
PROFESSOR [hurriedly] Doctor, Doctor, please, his pulse
and temperature! You will see that a rise of both will be
apparent.
LEONID FYODORITCH [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.
lad. Well, have you had a nap? There, put
that in there, and give me your hand. [Looks at his
watch].
SAHÁTOF [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.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. A thread! A thread! We have
been witnessing manifestations more important than a
thread.
SAHÁTOF. I don't know. At all events, je réserve mon
opinion.
FAT LADY [to Sahátof] Oh no, how can you say: “je
réserve mon 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
SAHÁTOF. 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 . .
SAHÁTOF [moves 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].
GROSSMAN. I saw phosphorescent light, and objects
Fruits of Culture
215
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, no, 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 Fyódoritch] Am I to
go?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Yes, 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!
Exeunt, all talking at once.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. I'm only sorry we had no com-
plete materialisation. But still.
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 Sahátof] If we had kept to hypnotism,
we might have produced a thorough state of epilepsy.
The success might have been complete!
SAHÁTOF. It is very interesting, but not entirely
convincing. That is all I can say.
Enter Theodore Ivánitch.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [with paper in his hand] Ah, Theo-
216
Fruits of Culture
dore, what a remarkable séance we have had! It turns
out that the peasants must have the land on their own
terms.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Dear me !
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Yes, indeed. [Showing paper] Fancy,
this paper that I returned to them, suddenly appeared on
the table! I have signed it.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. How did it get there?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well, it did get there! [Exit.
Theodore Ivánitch follows him out].
TÁNYA [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?
TÁNYA. 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!
TÁNYA. 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 liveried
footmen, Theodore Ivánitch and Gregory.
FIRST FOOTMAN [with grey whiskers] 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 IVÁNITCH. Yes, we changed to Saturday so as
to be on the same day as the Golóvkins and Grade von
Grabes ..
SECOND FOOTMAN. The Stcherbákofs 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 Dodó refuses, the whole thing will be spoilt.
BETSY. I don't know. I must certainly go to the
Shoúbins. And then there is the rehearsal.
YOUNG PRINCESS. You'll have plenty of time. Do, please.
Ne nous fais pas faux bond.¹ Fédya and Koko will come.
BETSY. J'en ai par-dessus la tête de votre Koko.²
YOUNG PRINCESS. I thought I should see him here.
Ordinairement il est d'une exactitude
BETSY. He is sure to come.
1 Do not disappoint us.
3
•
2 BETSY. I have more than enough of your Koko.
3
YOUNG PRINCESS.
•
He is usually so very punctual. .
217
218
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!
love.
BETSY. Cessez, les gens !¹
He is head over ears in
Young Princess 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 footmen 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
219
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. [Exit].
SECOND FOOTMAN. That's a bold young man you've got.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. A worthless fellow, 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.
PETRÍSTCHEF [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 KLÍNGEN. From the Stcherbákofs. You are always
playing the fool.
PETRÍSTCHEF. No, listen to my charade. My first is the
same as my second, my third may be cracked, my whole is
like your pate.
KOKO KLÍNGEN. I give it up. I've no time.
PETRÍSTCHEF. Where else are you going?
KOKO KLÍNGEN. Where? Of course to the Ívins, to
practise for the concert. Then to the Shoúbins, and then
to the rehearsal. You'll be there too, won't you?
PETRÍSTCHEF. 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 KLÍngen. How did yesterday's séance go off?
PETRÍSTCHEF. Screamingly funny! There was a peasant,
and above all, it was all in the dark. Vovo cried like an
220
Fruits of Culture
infant, the Professor defined, and Márya Vasilevna refined.
Such a lark! You ought to have been there.
KOKO KLÍNGEN. I'm afraid, 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 ça ne
m'arrange pas du tout, du tout. Mais du tout, du tout ! 1
PETRÍSTCHEF. 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 KLÍNGEN. I can't think how you can be friends with
such a fool. He is so stupid,—a regular blockhead!
PETRÍSTCHEF. 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 room].
Betsy comes down with a Lady. Koko bows significantly to
Betsy.
BETSY [shaking Koko's hand without turning towards him.
To Lady] You are acquainted?
LADY. No.
BETSY. Baron Klingen.
last night?
Why were you not here
KOKO KLÍNGEN. I could not come, 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 KLÍNGEN. Oh, the verses for mon second are ready.
Nick composed the verses, and I the music.
BETSY. What are they? What are they? Do tell me!
KOKO KLÍNGEN. Wait a minute; how does it go? . . .
Oh, the knight sings:
"Oh, naught so beautiful as nature :
The Nautilus sails by.
Oh, naughty lass, oh, naughty lass !
Oh, nought, oh nought! Oh fie
""
¹ And that won't suit me at all, at all! Not at all, at all !
Fruits of Culture
221
LADY. I see, my second is "nought," and what is my
first?
KOKO KLÍNGEN. 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 KLÍNGEN [interrupts]—
BETSY [chimes in]—
"How can I fight,"
"Some one to chew I long.
I seeking go.
>>
KOKO KLÍNGEN—
BETSY-
KOKO KLÍNGen—
BETSY
"But even so ..
"No one to chew can find."
"A raft sails by,"
KOKO KLÍNGEN-
"It cometh nigh;
Two generals upon it . . ."
"Two generals are we :
By fate's hard 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 KLÍNGEN. 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 Ivánitch] Is
Bourdier's man here?
222
Fruits of Culture
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Yes, 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 bow. 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, &c., and goes
panting across the stage.
JACOB [to the Footmen] How d'you do? How d'you do?
[Footmen bon].
JACOB [to Theodore Ivánitch] 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 IVÁNITCH. 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 IVÁNITCH. Peasants that had come from our
Koursk village to buy some land. It was night, and they
were 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 IVÁNITCH. Gregory, you go and help Jacob.
I'll stay here. He can't manage alone.
Fruits of Culture
223
GREGORY. He's awkward, that's why he can't manage.
[Exit].
Our
FIRST FOOTMAN. And what is this new mania they have
got? This infection! . . . So yours also is afraid of it?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. She fears it worse than fire!
chief business, nowadays, is fumigating, washing, and
sprinkling.
FIRST FOOTMAN. I see. That's why there is such a stuffy
smell here. [With 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 Mosolóva, 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, smoking cigarettes.
PETRÍSTCHEF. Come along then, only I must take Koko
Cocoanut, with me.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. 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?
PETRÍSTCHEF. Well, anyhow, wait a bit, I must say good-
bye.
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. 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.
PETRÍSTCHEF. Who ate whom? Did the coachman
really eat the dog?
VASÍLY LEONÍDITCH. You are always at it! [Puts on out-
door things and goes out].
224
Fruits of Culture
PETRÍSTCHEF [thoughtfully] Ma-kin-tosh, Co-co-tin. . . .
Let's see. [Goes upstairs].
Jacob runs across the stage.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. What's the matter?
JACOB. There is no more thin bread and butter. I
said ... [Exit].
SECOND FOOTMAN. And then our master's little son fell ill,
aud 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 IVÁNITCH. 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 Túnya; she bows to the Footmen.
TÁNYA. Good afternoon.
Footmen bow.
tánya. Theodore Ivánitch, I have a word to say to you.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Well, what?
TÁNYA. The peasants have come again, Theodore Iván-
itch.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Well? I gave the paper to Simon.
TÁNYA. 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 IVÁNITCH. But where are they?
TÁNYA. Here, by the porch.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. All right, I'll tell the master.
TÁNYA. I have another request to you, dear Theodore
Ivánitch.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. What now?
TÁNYA. Why, don't you see, Theodore Ivánitch, I can't
remain here any longer. Ask them to let me go.
Enter Jacob, running.
Fruits of Culture
225
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [to Jacob] What d'you want?
JACOB. Another samovár, and oranges.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Ask the housekeeper.
Exit Jacob.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [to Tánya] How is that?
TÁNYA. Why, don't you see, my position is such .
JACOB [runs in] There are not enough oranges.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Serve up as many as you've got.
[Exit Jacob]. Now's not the time! Just see what a
bustle we are in.
TÁNYA. But you know yourself, Theodore Ivánitch, there
is no end to this bustle; one might wait for ever-you
know yourself—and my affair is for life. . . . Dear Theodore
Ivánitch, 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.¹
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Where's the hurry?
1
TÁNYA. Why, Theodore Ivánitch, it's all settled now..
And I could go to my godmother's and get ready, and then
after Easter we'd get married.2 Do tell her, dear Theodore
Ivánitch!
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Go away—this is not the place.
An elderly Gentleman comes downstairs, puts on overcoat, and
goes out followed by the Second Footman.
Exit Tánya. Enter Jacob.
JACOB. Just fancy, Theodore Ivánitch, 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. Tatyána 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.
2 See footnote, p. 28. It is customary for peasants to marry just
after Easter, but when spring has come and the field work begun,
no marriages take place among them till autumn.
P
226
Fruits of Culture
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Did the mistress speak to you?
JACOB. She's just spoken. Do speak up for me, Theodore
Ivánitch! 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 Ivánitch, do, please!
Anna Pávlovna comes down with the old Countess, whom she
is seeing off. The Countess has false teeth and hair. The First
Footman helps the Countess into her outdoor things.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. 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 PÁVLOVNA. You should really consult Peter Petróv-
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 PÁVLOVNA. Pray, take care of yourself.
COUNTESS. Merci, mille fois merci. ¹
Gregory, dishevelled and excited, jumps out from the servants'
quarters. Simon appears behind him in the doorway.
SIMON. You'd better leave her alone!
GREGORY. You rascal! I'll teach you how to fight, you
scamp, you!
anna pávlovna. What do you mean? Do you think you
are in a public-house?
GREGORY. This coarse peasant makes life impossible for
me.
ANNA
PÁVLOVNA [provoked] You've lost your senses.
Don't you see? [To Countess] Merci, mille fois merci. A
mardi ! 2
Exeunt Countess and First Footman.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [to Gregory] What is the meaning of
this?
1 COUNTESS. Thank you (for your hospitality), a thousand thanks.
2 ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Thank you (for coming to see us), a thousand
thanks. Till next Tuesday!
Fruits of Culture
227
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 pávlovna. Why, what has happened?
GREGORY. Why, this Simon of yours has got so brave,
sitting with the gentlemen, that he wants to fight!
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Why? What for?
GREGORY. Heaven only knows!
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [to Simon] What is the meaning of it?
SIMON. Why does he bother her?
Anna Pávlovna. What has happened?
SIMON [smiles] Well, you see, he is always catching hold
of Tánya, 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 PÁVLOVNA [to Simon] How dare you fight in my
house ?
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. May I explain it to you, ma'am?
I must tell you Simon is not indifferent to Tánya, 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 Pávlovna. What trickery?
GREGORY. Why, at the séance. All those things, last
night,—it was not Simon but Tánya who did them! I saw
her getting out from under the sofa with my own eyes.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. 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.
228
Fruits of Culture
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. And you saw it yourself?
GREGORY. With my own eyes. Shall I call her? She'll
not deny it.
(C
anna pávlovnA. 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 in past him, the Second Peasant first;
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 pávlovnA. Wait a bit with your thanks. It was all
done by fraud! It is not settled yet. Not sold yet.
Leonid. . . . Call Leonid Fyódoritch. [Exit Doorkeeper].
Leonid Fyódoritch enters, but, seeing his wife and the Pea-
sants, wishes to retreat.
anna pávlovna. No, no, come 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.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. How? I don't understand who is
deceiving?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. 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!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Now come, Annette, try to be
calm.
FIRST PEASANT. We are only come about the acceptation
of the sum, for example . .
Fruits of Culture
229
THIRD PEASANT [taking out the money] Let us finish the
matter, for Christ's sake!
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Wait, wait!
Enter Tánya and Gregory.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [angrily] You were in the small drawing-
room during the séance last night?
Tánya looks round at Theodore Ivánitch, Leoníd Fyódoritch,
and Simon, and sighs.
GREGORY. It's no use beating about the bush; I saw
you myself .
Anna Pávlovna. 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 [pointing to Leonid Fyodor-
itch] your master. Did you throw the paper on the
table?
TÁNYA. I don't know how to answer. Only one thing,-
let me go home.
Enter Betsy unobserved.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [to Leonid Fyódoritch] There, you see!
You are being made a fool of.
TÁNYA. Let me go home, Anna Pávlovna !
Anna Pávlovna. No, my dear! You may have caused
us a loss of thousands of roubles.
that ought not to be sold!
TÁNYA. Let me go, Anna Pávlovna !
Land has been sold
Anna Pávlovna. No; you'll have to answer for it! Such
tricks won't do. We'll have you up before the Justice of
the Peace!
Or, if you
BETSY [comes forward] Let her go, mamma.
wish to have her tried, you must have me tried too! She
and I did it together.
anna pávlovna. Well, of course, if you have a hand in
anything, what can one expect but the very worst results!
Enter the Professor.
PROFESSOR. How do you do, Anna Pávlovna? How do
you do, Miss Betsy? Leonid Fyódoritch, I have brought
230
Fruits of Culture
you a report of the Thirteenth Congress of Spiritualists at
Chicago. An amazing speech by Schmidt!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Oh, that is interesting!
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I will tell 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 Tánya] who did it !
PROFESSOR [taking off his overcoat] What do you mean?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. 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 PÁVLOVNA. It proves 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 PÁVLOVNA. Another lecture!
PROFESSOR [sternly] You say, Anna Pávlovna, 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 Pávlovna,
Fruits of Culture
231
facts! No! Anna Pávlovna, there are things which must
be investigated and fully understood before they can be
talked about, things too serious, too serious
LEONID FYÓDORITCH. And the child that Márya Vasilevna
distinctly saw? Why, I saw it too. That could not
have been done by this girl.
•
anna pávlovna. You think yourself wise, but you are—
a fool.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well, I'm going.
miritch, will you come? [Exit into his study].
Alexéy Vladí-
PROFESSOR [shrugging his shoulders, follows] Oh, how far,
how far, we still lag behind Western Europe!
Enter Jacob.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [following Leonid Fyódoritch with 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 PÁVLOVNA. For how many? . . . Theodore Iván-
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 [while 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!
232
Fruits of Culture
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Then are we not to accept their
money?
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. 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 PÁVLOVNA. 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].
TÁNYA [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 [fumbling with the packet of bank-notes]
Had I known, I'd not have come for the world. It's worse
than a fever!
THEODORE IVÁNITCH [to Doorkeeper] Show them into my
room. There's a counting-board there. I'll receive their
money.
Now go.
DOORKEEPER. Come along.
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. And it's Tánya 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.
we?
THIRD PEASANT. She's made men of us. Else what were
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
233
7
TÁNYA. Yes, I'll come, I'll come! [Shrieks] Simon, this
is fine, isn't it? [Exeunt Peasants].
THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Mind, Tánya, when you have your
house I'll come to visit you. Will you have me?
TÁNYA. Dear Theodore Ivánitch, just the same as we
would our own father! [Embraces and kisses him].
Curtain,
END OF FRUITS OF CULTURE."
AN ANNOTATED LIST OF THE
WORKS OF LEO TOLSTOY
CONSIDERING how famous Tolstoy is, and what an enormous
amount of labour has been devoted to the publication of
his works both in the original and in translations, it seems
curious that, till now, no complete chronological list of
his writings has been procurable. The fact is that the
difficulty of constructing such a list is considerable, and
in reference to some of his works it seems impossible
to fix the dates exactly. The difficulties referred to, arise
from the prohibition of many of his works in Russia; this
has led to some of them being printed abroad (where
they have sometimes appeared under wrong titles), and
it has also led to various fragments being issued as though
they were separate articles. Add to this that Tolstoy
himself has from time to time consented to the publication
of scraps and fragments altered at various dates and not
originally intended for publication, and the difficulty of
presenting an accurate chronological list of his works will
be readily understood.
Should any errors or omissions be discovered in the list
here given, the editor will be greatly indebted to any one
who will kindly point them out to him. The dates are
intended to represent the years in which the works were
first printed, or-when that was not permitted in Russia
-in which they first became known to the public by the
circulation of hectographed or MS. copies.
Had only the dates of publication in book form been
234
An Annotated List
235
considered, some works would have been thrown quite
out of their natural order: for instance, the second
volume of A Criticism of Dogmatic Theology, which was
written 1881-82, and properly belongs to the early part
of Tolstoy's second period of literary activity, was not
printed until 1896, though its author was willing and
eager to give it circulation fourteen years earlier. On the
other hand, had the plan adopted been that of strictly
following the order in which the works were written, the
difficulty of ascertaining the dates (in view of the re-
visions to which some of the works have been repeatedly
subjected, and in view of Tolstoy's own indifference to
questions of mere chronology) would have been almost
insuperable.
No attempt is here made to deal with the innumerable
translations which have appeared in thirty-eight languages.
Some of them (such as Vicious Pleasures) have titles
Tolstoy never authorised; others (such as Les Plaisirs
Cruels) contain pages he never wrote, and many of them
are so bad that the sooner they are forgotten the better!
Those works which are allowed in Russia and are in-
cluded in the collected Moscow editions, are in this list
marked with an asterisk (*). Even in so apparently simple
a matter as this of marking the works included in the re-
cognised Moscow editions of Tolstoy's works, one is met by
a difficulty; for few indeed of his writings-from Sevastopol
to Resurrection-have been allowed in Russia without some
mutilation, while, on the other hand, of the "forbidden"
works (such as What I Believe, What then must we do? or
On Life) more or less considerable fragments have
found their way into the Moscow editions under various
names.
How much Tolstoy has suffered at the hands of the
Censor, may be illustrated by the following case: What is
Art? was far from being one of the most mutilated of his
books; in fact, the passages the Censor suppressed from
236
An Annotated List of
the Russian edition when gathered together only cover
a few pages, and few of his later works have a better
claim to be reckoned among those that are "permitted."
Yet the omissions, and worse still the alterations that
were made, so provoked Tolstoy that, in the Preface he
wrote to the present writer's translation of that book,2
he said :-
"This book appears now for the first time in its true
form. More than one edition has already been issued in
Russia, but in each case it has been so mutilated by the
Censor, that I request all who are interested in my
views on art only to judge of them by the work in its
present shape."
That an author should thus be driven to prefer an
English translation to his own original in the form in
which it was allowed to appear in Russia, furnishes a
striking instance of the evils of press-censorship!
Only the longer and more important of Tolstoy's Letters
are included in this list, and such as were evidently written
for publication or may fairly be classed as essays. Any
line drawn between Tolstoy's later works and his private
letters must, however, confessedly be more or less arbi-
trary, for many of his private letters are really short
essays, and some of his essays were first written in the
form of letters.
With a few exceptions, those of Tolstoy's works which
may be printed in Russia are to be found in the collected
Moscow editions already alluded to, but even these
editions are not altogether reliable. For instance, the
best edition, in fourteen large volumes, contains the same
story twice over. In Vol. XII. it occurs as: A Tale. From
the Folk-Lore which arose on the Volga in Distant Times; and
there it is dated 1892. The same story re-appears in
Vol. XIV. as The Empty Drum, and it is dated 1891. The
great hindrance to making these Moscow editions satis-
2 Published by Walter Scott, Ltd., in the Scott Library series.
the Works of Leo Tolstoy 237
factory lay (and still lies) not merely in the fact that
many of Tolstoy's later works were prohibited, but also
in the constant uncertainty, continued from one edition
to another, as to what would be and what would not be
passed by the Censor. Things at one time, and in one
edition, allowed, were at another time, and in another
edition, prohibited. The general rule seems to have been
that the cheaper the edition the stricter was the Censor.
In an expensive edition, the volumes of which might not be
sold separately, stories were allowed which might not be
reprinted separately or in any cheaper form. So strict is
the supervision of popular editions that on one occasion,
in connection with a very cheap reading-book issued under
Tolstoy's auspices, the Censor considered it necessary to
suppress the passage in the Sermon on the Mount which
bids us
"take no thought for the morrow: for the morrow
shall take thought for the things of itself."
A fresh Moscow edition is, at the present time, in course
of preparation.
But if errors occur in the Moscow editions, the case is
far worse with the editions printed by Elpidine, in Geneva.
Take, for instance, the case of What then must we do?
written about 1885. This work was prohibited in Russia
(though parts of it under various names ultimately found
their way into the Moscow editions), but it also contained
parts which did not please the revolutionary group at
Geneva. The result was that, at first, only part of the
book was published in Geneva, under the title What is
my
Life Like? This was followed later by another part, to
which the title Money was allotted. Finally, the rest of
the work appeared (with omissions), and to this fragment
the real title of the whole book What then must we do?
was given.
A great improvement on the Geneva editions of Tol-
stoy's prohibited works are the editions issued in the
Russian language during the last few years by Vladimir
238
An Annotated List of
Tchertkóff at Purleigh, Essex; by A. Tchertkóff at Christ-
church, Hants, and finally by the same editors in co-
operation with Eugen Dieterichs of Leipzig. These issues
lack uniformity of size, type, and appearance, but they
have the merit of being edited by people well acquainted
with Tolstoy's work and devoted to it. Unfortunately
they have, as yet, covered only a small part of the ground,
and one still has to procure a Moscow edition, a Geneva
edition, and a Purleigh-Christchurch-Leipzig edition of
Tolstoy's works, in order to obtain anything like a com-
plete set of them even in Russian, and then one's collection
is neither quite complete nor altogether reliable.
Tolstoy was born 28th August (o.s.) 1828, and his first
writings appeared when he was twenty-four. The following is
a list of his works published during half a century (1852-
1903).
1852 *Childhood. A Story.
وو
*The Cossacks. A Caucasian Story.
*A Squire's Morning. A Story.
""
*The Raid. A Volunteer's Tale.
""
1854 *Boyhood. A Story.
1855 *The Wood-felling. A Junker's Tale. (Written
1854-55.)
*Sevastopol in December 1854.
""
"
*Sevastopol in May 1855.
1856 *Sevastopol in August 1855.
""
""
35
*Meeting a Moscow Acquaintance in the Detach-
ment. From the Caucasian Memoirs of Prince
Nehlúdof.
*A Snowstorm.
*Two Hussars.
A Story.
A Story.
*A Billiard-Marker's Memoirs. A Story.
the Works of Leo Tolstoy
239
(1857-60 were the years in which Tolstoy paid two visits of
several months' duration to Western Europe.)
1857 *Youth. A Story. (Written 1855–57.)
""
1858
*Lucerne. From Prince Nehlúdof's Memoirs.
*Albert. A Tale.
Satirical Soldiers' Song.
(Composed during the siege of Sevastopol (1855)
by Tolstoy and others, and first published anony-
mously in Herzen's "Polar Star.")
1859 *Three Deaths. A Tale.
*Family Happiness. A Novel.
1860 *Polikoúshka.
A Story.
(1861 was the year of the Emancipation of the Serfs, and in
that year Tolstoy became an "Arbitrator of the Peace
between the ex-serfs and their former proprietors. This
appointment gave him the opportunity of organising the
schools, of which he started about a dozen in the Toúla
Government. Tolstoy married on 23d September o.s.
1862.)
1862 Pedagogic Articles from the Magazine Yásnaya
Polyána.
وو
وو
""
59
وو
""
1863
*1. On Popular Education.
*2. On Methods of Teaching to Read.
*3. Project of a general plan of Schools for
the People.
*4. Education and Instruction.
*5. The Progress and Definition of Educa-
tion.
*6. Who should learn Composition from
Whom Peasant Children from us, or
we from Peasant Children?
*7. Yásno - Polyánsky School. Report for
November and December 1862.
240
An Annotated List of
1864-9 *War and Peace. In 4 volumes: 15 Parts, and
an Epilogue.
1869-72 Fables, Stories, and Legends for Children:
*I. Æsop's Fables.
""
""
"
*II. Indian Fables altered or imitated.
*III. Tales for Children, including:
Stories of the Dogs Milton and Boúlka.
God sees the Truth, but speaks not
soon.
Desire stronger than Compulsion.
The Prisoner in the Caucasus.
Ermák.
*IV. Stories in Physics.
*V. Stories in Zoology.
*VI. Stories in Botany.
*VII. An attempt to unite different versions
of Folk-legends, and to render them.
in regular verse.
*A New A.B.C. Book.
*First Russian Reader. In 4 Parts.
*Slavonic Reader. In 4 Parts.
(These repeat the Fables and Stories above
mentioned.)
1873 *The Famine in Samára.
1873-76 *Anna Karénina. In 3 Volumes: 8 Parts.
1875 *On Popular Education.
1878 *The Decembrists. (Fragments of a novel com-
menced in 1863.)
وو
*First Recollections. (A fragment from
published autobiographical notes.)
un-
It was at this point that Tolstoy's outlook on life changed,
or became definitely formulated in his mind. Of the following
works the fourteen printed in heavier type are complete books.
The others are essays, stories, articles, and plays. I have
the Works of Leo Tolstoy
241
translated the titles of the Russian works, but in cases where
they are known, in English translations, under other fairly
satisfactory titles, I have added these in square brackets.
WORKS OF TOLSTOY'S LATER YEARS
1881 *What Men Live by.
""
A Criticism of Dogmatic Theology.
1882 My Confession. [How I came to Believe.] An
Introduction to What I Believe. (Written
1879-82.)
1881-82 A Union and Translation of the Four Gospels.
[The Four Gospels Harmonised and Trans-
lated.]
1882-83 A Short Explanation of the Gospel. [The
Gospel in Brief.]
1883 *On the Moscow Census. (Written in 1882.)
Letter to N. N. (On Non-Resistance.)
وو
1884
ވ
Church and State. (Circulated without Tolstoy's
consent in an unfinished state. It is taken
from a rough draft of A Criticism of Dogmatic
Theology.)
What I Believe. [My Religion.] The fragment,
*In what does Happiness consist? included in
the Moscow edition (1893) of Tolstoy's works,
is part of What I Believe. What I Believe was
written before A Short Explanation of the
Gospel, but both were prohibited in Russia,
and as things fell out the later work was
printed before the earlier one.
Letter to Engelhardt. (On Non-Resistance.)
(Dated Moscow, 22nd January o.s. 1884.)
Translation of The Teaching of the Twelve
Apostles.
242
An Annotated List of
Short Popular Stories:
1885 *Neglect a Fire and it Spreads.
وو
*The Candle.
*Two Old Men. [The Two Pilgrims.]
*Where Love is there is God.
Texts to Woodcuts:
*1. Temptations allure, but God is sure.
*2. Little Girls wiser than their Elders.
*3. The Two Brothers and the Gold.
*4. Ilyás.
1885-86 *The Story of Iván the Fool.
What then must we do? Fragments of this
book are included in the Moscow edition of
1893 under the titles :—
*1. What happened at the Census.
*2. Life in Town.
*3. Life in the Country.
*4. The Purpose of Science and Art.
*5. Labour and Luxury.
*6. To Women.
*Extract from a Private Letter in reply to a
criticism on the article, "To Women."
1886 *The Death of Iván Ilyitch. (Written 1884-86.)
Folk-Legends re-told :-
""
*1. How the Imp paid for his Bread-blunder.
[The Imp and the Crust, also The
Crust of Bread.]
*2. Does Man need much Land?
*3. A Grain the Size of a Hen's Egg.
*4. The Godson.
*5. Three Old Men. (Written 1884.)
*6. The Repentant Sinner.
*The Power of Darkness; or, When a Claw is
Caught the Bird is Lost, A Drama in Five
Acts,
the Works of Leo Tolstoy 243
1886 *Fleet-foot, a Horse's Story. (Holstomér.)
(Written in 1861, but retouched and pub-
lished in 1886.)
"2
An Explanation of Ge's (Gay's) Picture, The
Last Supper.
Nicholas Pálkin.
1887 On Life. Some of the last chapters of this work
are included in a Moscow edition (1893) under
دو
""
the headings:-
*1. Love.
*2. Fear of Death.
*3. Sufferings.
*What is True in Art? Preface to a Collection
of Stories.
The First Distiller. A Comedy in Six Acts.
(This is the dramatised version of How the
Imp paid for his Bread-blunder.)
1888 *Walk in the Light while there is Light. [Work
while ye have the Light.] A Story of Early
Christian Times.
*Industry: or the Agriculturist's Triumph. (This
is given more fully in Elpidine's Geneva
edition than in the Moscow editions, and is
called Bóndaref's Teaching: a Preface to
Bóndarey's book.)
a
1889 *Manual Labour and Intellectual Activity:
Letter to a Frenchman. (The Geneva edition
is more complete than the Moscow one.)
*The Feast of Enlightenment on the 12th
January (i.e. Moscow University Commemora-
tion Day). (On Temperance.)
وو
دو
""
*Fruits of Culture. A Comedy in Four Acts.
A Reply to Critics. (Concerning My Reli-
gion.)
244
An Annotated List of
1890 *The Kreutzer Sonata.
وو
""
""
*Why do People Stupify Themselves?
Stimulants and Narcotics.)
*An Afterword to the Kreutzer Sonata.
(On
*An Introduction to Alice Stockham's Tokology.
Two Letters to Adin Ballou. (On Non-Resist-
ance.)
1891 and 1892 were the great famine years in
Russia.
Articles on the Famine :-
1891 *1. On the Means of helping the Population
suffering from Failure of Crops.
*2. A Terrible Question.
1892 *3. Help for the Hungry.
*4. Among the Sufferers. (Two Parts.) (Elpi-
dine's Geneva edition has an addition to
the above, written October 28, 1893,
which is not contained in the Moscow
edition.)
1891 *Emelyán: or the Empty Drum.
Story.)
(A Folk-
1892 *A Conversation among Subtle People. (Tolstoy
intended this to serve as a preface to Walk
in the Light while ye have Light.)
ور
*Françoise. (An adaptation of Guy de Maupas-
sant's Story.)
*The First Step. (A Preface to Howard
Williams' The Ethics of Diet.)
1893 The Kingdom of God is within You. In the
Moscow edition of 1898 a fragment of this
work is given under the title, *On the Question
of Free-Will.
*Preface to Selections from Amiel's Journal
Intime (which were translated into Russian by
the Works of Leo Tolstoy
245
1893
وو
Tolstoy's daughter, Márya Lvóvna, now Princess
Obolénsky).
On the Relations of the Sexes. (Diana.)
*Non-acting. [Stop and Think.] (Written by
Tolstoy in Russian and, after a mutilated edi-
tion had appeared in France, again in French.)
Come to your Senses! (Porá opómnitsya /) (On
the Drink Question.)
1894 *Preface to Guy de Maupassant's works.
*Preface to Peasant Stories by S. T. Seménof.
*Religion and Morality.
دو
رو
""
*Translation of, and Preface to, a Letter by
Mazzini on "Immortality.
>>
*Adaptation of Bernardin de Saint-Pierre's Le
Café de Surate.
*Karma. (Translated from the English of Paul
Carus. With introductory letter by Tolstoy.)
The Worst Years of the Doukhobór persecution in
the Caucasus were 1895–98.
1895 Patriotism and Christianity.
دو
""
"
دو
Afterword to The Life of Drozhín. (Dated 4th
March o.s. 1895.)
The Persecution of Christians in Russia (10th
September o.s. 1895). (Published in The
Contemporary Review, November 1895.)
Afterword to the above. (Dated 17th September
o.s. 1895.)
Letter to the Daily Chronicle on the State.
A
reply to critics of The Kingdom of God is
within You. (Dated 15th December o.s. 1894.)
Letter on Religion and Reason.
*Three Parables.
ور
وو
Letter to a Pole.
(On Patriotism.)
*Master and Man.
A Tale.
246
An Annotated List of
1895 Afterword to Birukóf's article on the Dou-
khobórs.
1896 *God or Mammon. (On the Drink Question.)
Letter to the Liberals (31st August o.s. 1896).
*Shame. (On flogging Peasants. Dated 14th
December o.s. 1895.)
وو
""
""
22
"
How to Read the Gospels, and what is essential
in them. (Dated 22d July o.s. 1896.)
Afterword to Help. (An Appeal for the Dou-
khobórs. Dated 14th December o.s. 1896.)
Patriotism or Peace. (On the Venezuelan Ques-
tion. Published in Daily Chronicle, 17th
March 1896.)
Letter to Ernest H. Crosby. (On Non-Resist-
ance.)
Letter to Eugen H. Schmidt. (Dated 12th
October o.s. 1896.)
Letter on
"The Fraud of the Church."
1897 The Beginning of the End. (On Van der
Veer's refusal of Military Service.) (Dated
24th September o.s. 1896. Published in Ber-
ور
་
""
""
وو
lin, under the wrong title, War and Reason.)
The Demands of Love. (From Tolstoy's Diary
of 24th June o.s. 1893.)
Two Letters on Henry George.
Letter on Nobel's Bequest.
Article on Bóndaref, contributed to Vengérof's
Critical-Biographical Dictionary.
1898 *What is Art?
The Christian Teaching. (Written during the
preceding years, and published without final
revision.)
Two Wars. (Spain v. the United States, and
Doukhobórs v. Russian Government. Dated
15th August o.s. 1898.)
the Works of Leo Tolstoy
247
1898 *Famine or not?
""
وو
*Preface to Edward Carpenter's Modern Science
(which was translated into Russian by Tolstoy's
son, Count Sergé Tolstoy).
*Letter to the Russian Védomosti.
Famine Question.
1898.)
(On the
Dated 23d April o.s.
1899
"
"}
Carthago delenda est. (On War.)
Letter to the Daily Chronicle on The Persecu-
tion of the Doukhobortsi. (Written 1st April
o.s. 1898. Published 29th April 1898.)
Too Dear. An Adaptation of a Story by Guy de
Maupassant.
*Resurrection. A Novel: in 3 Books.
Letter on the Peace Conference.
Letter to a Non-Commissioned Officer.
1900 The Slavery of our Times.
""
وو
ور
Patriotism and Government. (Dated 10th May
o.s. 1900.)
What is and what is not Art, and when is Art
important or unimportant? [Art and Not-
Art.] (A preliminary Essay written before
What is Art? but kept back from publication
until Tolstoy's view of the subject had found
mature expression in that volume.)
Thou shalt not kill. (On the Assassination of
King Humbert. Dated 8th August o.s. 1900.)
Preface to J. C. Kenworthy's Anatomy of Misery.
Where is the way out? [How shall we escape ?]
(Written in 1898, before The Slavery of our
Times. October 1900.)
Is this really Necessary? [The Root of the
Evil.] (Written 1898.)
1901 Reply to the Synod's Decree of Excommuni-
cation. (4th April o.s. 1901.)
248
1901
"
وو
دو
ور
دو
An Annotated List of
The Only Means. (Dated 12th July o.s. 1901.)
Letter to the Tsar and his Assistants. (Dated
15th March o.s. 1901.)
Who is Right? (A fragment, read in public by
the Countess S. A. Tolstoy, of an unpub-
lished story written some years previously.)
A Short Introduction to some Translations from
Ruskin's Works.
A Preface to Der Büttnerbauer, a Novel by von
Polenz. (On Criticism.)
Three Letters on Reason, Faith, and Prayer.
(Dated 28th De-
1902 On Religious Toleration.
""
وو
"}
دو
cember o.s. 1901.)
Preface to Ershof's Recollections of Sevastopol.
(Written 10th May 1889.)
What is Religion, and What is its Essence?
Memoranda for Soldiers.
cember o.s. 1901.)
(Dated 7th De-
Memoranda for Officers (same date).
To Working People.
1903 The forthcoming publication is announced of:
A Letter to the Clergy.
A Legend of Christ's visit to Hell and of the
re-establishment of Beelzebub's Kingdom,
is also expected soon to be ready for pub-
lication.
Besides the above works, mention may here be made of
some useful compilations, consisting largely of extracts
from Tolstoy's private Diary, private letters, &c. It should
however be noted that Tolstoy says of such compilations,
“However carefully they may be made, I must not be held
responsible for them.”
1894 Ripe Ears of Corn.
Koudryavtsef.
Compiled by D. R.
the Works of Leo Tolstoy
249.
1900 Thoughts on God. Compiled by V. Tchertkóff.
1901
On the Meaning of Life.
""
The Relations of the Sexes.
""
وو
""
دو
Thoughts on Education.
دو
وو
دو
""
A Series of Private Letters, published by the
Free Age Press, together with "What is
Religion?"
A Legend entitled "Forty Years" is sometimes attri-
buted to Tolstoy on the strength of the circumstance that,
N. Kostamárof having written a version of that Legend,
Tolstoy altered it somewhat and re-wrote the last chapter
of it.
Tolstoy has delivered three public speeches in his life:
One, delivered about 1863, was, In Defence of a Soldier
tried on a Capital Charge for Striking his Superior.
The second, about the same year, was, On Methods of
Learning to Read.
The third, delivered in 1869, was, On the Supremacy of
the Artistic over the Social Element in Literary Productions,
and expressed almost the reverse of the opinions subse-
quently maintained by Tolstoy in What is Art?
Works which Tolstoy now (1903) has on hand, but which
he wishes (even if he completes them) not to publish
during his life, are:
Hadji Mourát. A Circassian Novel.
Father Sergé. A Story.
The Corpse. A Play.
While preparing the above List, a letter reached me
from Count Sergé Tolstoy calling attention to the in-
adequate way in which the last twenty years of his
father's life are dealt with in vol. xxxiii. (just published)
of the Encyclopædia Britannica. Tolstoy's views and pro-
R
250
An Annotated List
nouncements on the Church, the Gospels, government,
the sex question, anarchism, property, science, conscrip-
tion, militarism, and the land question are barely alluded
to, and most of the works he has written on these sub-
jects are not even mentioned.
Of some twenty-six works (counting those in the Maga-
zine Yásnaya Polyána as one, and those in the Readers as
one) written during Tolstoy's earlier period, the Encyclo-
pædia Britannica mentions fourteen of the most important;
but of more than sixty works (not counting Letters or
Translations or Short Articles, and counting the Short
Stories together as one, the Folk-Legends as one, and
the Famine Articles as one) written after My Confession,
only eight are named at all, and six of these are barely
mentioned.
That only a passing and incidental reference is made
to Resurrection may, perhaps, be excused, as that work is
appreciatively dealt with in the article on Russia, Recent
Literature, in vol. xxxii.; but it is extraordinary that no
mention should be made of Tolstoy's works on the Gos-
pels, nor of What I Believe, On Life, The Kingdom of God
is Within You, The Christian Teaching, nor even of popular
works of art such as Fruits of Culture and Master and Man.
It is much to be regretted that a standard work of
reference, while allotting ample space (nineteen columns)
to the life of Tolstoy, should have apportioned that space
so badly as to leave its readers uninformed concerning
the part of his life and work which, whether they approve
or disapprove of his views, those interested in social or
religious questions can least afford to ignore.
A. M.
•
Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & Co.
Edinburgh & London


NIVE

BOUND
NOV 15 1932
UNIVEOF MICA.
LIBRARY
F
:.
に
​UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
3 9015 06532 3894
: