The Power of Darkness

Name: The Power of Darkness
Author: Leo Tolstoy

Leo Tolstoy, translated by Louise Maude, Aylmer Maude

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Dramatis Personae

Peter Ignátitch. A well-to-do peasant, forty-two years old, married for the second time, and sickly
Anísya. His wife, thirty-two years old, fond of dress
Akoulína. Peter’s daughter by his first marriage, sixteen years old, hard of hearing, mentally undeveloped
Nan (Anna Petróvna). His daughter by his second marriage, ten years old
Nikíta. Their labourer, twenty-five years old, fond of dress
Akím. Nikíta’s father, fifty years old, a plain-looking, God-fearing peasant
Matryóna. His wife and Nikíta’s mother, fifty years old
Marína. An orphan girl, twenty-two years old
Martha. Peter’s sister
Mítritch. An old labourer, ex-soldier
Simon. Marína’s husband
Bridegroom. Engaged to Akoulína
Iván. 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.

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. Anísya 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. Nikíta! Hey, Nikíta! Is the fellow deaf? Listens. To the women. Shut up, one can’t hear anything.
Nikíta	From outside. What?
Peter	Drive the horses in.
Nikíta	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. Nikíta! … It’s no good shouting. One of you’d better go. Go, Akoúl, drive ’em in.
Akoulína	What? The horses?
Peter	What else?
Akoulína	All right. Exit.
Peter	Ah, but he’s a loafer, that lad … no good at all. Won’t stir a finger if he can help it.
Anísya	You’re so mighty brisk yourself. When you’re not sprawling on the top of the oven you’re squatting on the bench. To goad others to work is all you’re fit for.
Peter	If one weren’t to goad you on a bit, one’d have no 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. I’d like to sack him, I would indeed.
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 Nikíta?
Akoulína	Where’s Nikíta? 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. Nikíta’s father and mother have come. They’re going to take him away. It’s true!
Anísya	Nonsense!
Nan	Yes. Blest if they’re not! Laughing. I was just going by, and Nikíta, he says, “Goodbye, 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!
Peter	Well, let him go. Just as if I couldn’t find somebody else.
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, anyhow.
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! I’ll go and lie on the top of the oven same as you, and let everything go to pot! You may do what you like.
Peter	To 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?
Anísya	Hold your noise, you idiot!
Akoulína	Going to the door. I know why you’re swearing 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.
Nikíta	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?
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	There’s a go now. How is it possible to go against one’s father’s will?
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.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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 …
Nikíta	Why should I go? Had I wanted to go—I should have gone long ago. There was Iván Semyónitch t’other day—offered me a place as his coachman. … Only fancy what a life that would have been! But I did not go. Because, I reckon, I am good enough for anyone. 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; then we could cover our sin, make it all right and lawful, and then you’ll be master here.
Nikíta	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?
Nikíta	Embracing her. There, as you have ever been in my heart …
Matryóna	Enters, and crosses herself a long time before the icon. Nikíta* and Anísya step apart.* What I saw I didn’t perceive, what I heard I didn’t hearken to. Playing with the lass, eh? Well—even a calf will play. Why shouldn’t one have some fun when one’s young? But your master is out in the yard a-calling you, sonnie.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	Stooping to pick up axe. I say, mother, is it true you want me to marry? As I reckon, that’s quite unnecessary. 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.
Nikíta	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?
Matryóna	Eh, why should he marry, my jewel? It’s all nonsense, all my old man’s drivel. “Marry, marry.” But he’s reckoning without his host. You know the saying, “From oats and hay, why should horses stray?” When you’ve enough and to spare, why look elsewhere? And so in this case. Winks. Don’t I see which way the wind blows?
Anísya	Where’s the good of my pretending to you, 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 hayfork it wouldn’t fetch blood. See if you don’t bury him before the spring. Then you’ll need someone 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. It’s all nonsense. You know my old man. His wits are always woolgathering; 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.
Anísya	And what started this business?
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 as shouldn’t. 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 anything 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? Supposing 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 happiness, 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 baggage like that? Nikíta is a sensible fellow, you see. He knows whom to love. So don’t you go and fret, my jewel. We’ll not take him away, and we won’t marry him. No, we’ll let him stay on, if you’ll only oblige us with a little money.
Anísya	All I know is, that I could not live if Nikíta 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?
Matryóna	“No sign whatever,” he says. He’s taken a rouble for it. “Can’t sell it for less,” he says. Because 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 frightened!
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.
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 anyone notices it, tell ’em it’s for the black-beetles. Takes the rouble. It’s also used for beetles. Stops short.
	Enter Akím, who crosses himself in front of the icon, 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. ’Cos why? I’m afeared 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. Akím sits down. Well then, what’s it all about? You want him to marry?
Matryóna	As to marrying, he might bide a while, 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 raspberries 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, … pays, pays, I mean. And as to the smell being, what d’you call it, it’s not for the likes of us to complain. And one changes one’s clothes. So we’d like to take what’s his name … Nikíta I mean, home. Let him manage things at home while I, what d’you call it—earn something 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.
Matryóna	Ah, but it’s not yet settled between ourselves, Peter Ignátitch. I’ll speak to you as I would before God, and you may judge between my old man and me. He goes on harping on that marriage. But just ask—who it is he wants him to marry. If it were a girl of the right sort now—I am not my child’s enemy, but 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 Nikíta, 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, Nikíta, 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 anyone 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.
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! Sling her round your neck and carry her about with you! That’s enough of such empty cackle!
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 hardworking 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. 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. First let us settle one thing before we start another.
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 …
	Enter Nikíta* and Nan.*
Nikíta	You called me? Sits down and takes out his tobacco-pouch.
Peter	In a low, reproachful voice. What are you thinking 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!
	Nikíta 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.
Nikíta	Who’s been complaining?
Akím	Complaining? It’s a maid, an orphan maid, complaining, I mean. It’s her, you know—a complaint against you, from Marína, I mean.
Nikíta	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 mixed up with the lass, I mean—mixed up, you know?
Nikíta	I don’t know what you mean. What’s up?
Akím	Foolin’, I mean, what d’you call it? foolin’. Have you been foolin’ with her, I mean?
Nikíta	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, Nikíta, but answer your father straight out.
Akím	Solemnly. You can hide it from men but not from God, Nikíta. You, what d’you call it—think, I mean, and don’t tell lies. She’s an orphan; so, you see, anyone is free to insult her. An orphan, you see. So you should say what’s rightest.
Nikíta	But what if I have nothing to say? I have told you everything—because there isn’t anything to tell, 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 Mikíshin? Besides, how’s this, that one mayn’t even have a bit of fun nowadays? And as for her, well, she’s free to say anything she likes.
Akím	Ah, Nikíta, mind! A lie will out. Did anything happen?
Nikíta	Aside. How he sticks to it; it’s too bad. To Akím. 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? What do you mean by it?—it’s a confounded shame. Besides, 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?
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, Nikíta, 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.
Nikíta	Sits down. What’s there to mind? mind yourself.
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. 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 thinking 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.
Matryóna	And it’s for a year he’ll bind himself. If we want help when the press 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?
Akím	Sighing. Yes, it seems, it what d’you call it … if 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 Anísya. 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?
Akím	Ah, tea! yes, I do sin that way. Yes, tea’s the thing.
Peter	And the women will also have some tea. Come. And you, Nikíta, go and drive the sheep in and clear away the straw.
Nikíta	All right. Exeunt all but Nikíta. Nikíta* 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 icon. It was just as if someone 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 simple 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.
Nikíta	What, to look at you? I can see you well enough without.
Akoulína	Oh, bother you!
	Nan enters and whispers to Nikíta.
Nan	Nikíta, there’s a person wants you. There is!
Nikíta	What person?
Nan	Marína from the railway; she’s out there, round the corner.
Nikíta	Nonsense!
Nan	Blest if she isn’t!
Nikíta	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 must say a word to him somehow.” She’s been waiting a long time. Why don’t you go?
Nikíta	Bother her! What should I go for?
Nan	She says, “If he don’t come, I’ll go into the hut to him.” Blest if she didn’t say she’d come in!
Nikíta	Not likely. She’ll wait a bit and then go away.
Nan	“Or is it,” she says, “that they want him to marry Akoulína?”
	Reenter Akoulína, passing near Nikíta* to take her distaff.*
Akoulína	Marry whom to Akoulína?
Nan	Why, Nikíta.
Akoulína	A likely thing! Who says it?
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	And why not now?
Akoulína	’Cos you wouldn’t love me.
Nikíta	Why not?
Akoulína	’Cos you’d be forbidden to. Laughs.
Nikíta	Who’d forbid it?
Akoulína	Who? My stepmother. She does nothing but grumble, and is always staring at you.
Nikíta	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 coming! I’m blest if she isn’t! I’ll go away. Exit.
Marína	Enters. What are you doing with me?
Nikíta	Doing? I’m not doing anything.
Marína	You mean to desert me.
Nikíta	Gets up angrily. What does this look like, your coming here?
Marína	Oh, Nikíta!
Nikíta	Well, you are strange! What have you come for?
Marína	Nikíta!
Nikíta	That’s my name. What do you want with Nikíta? Well, what next? Go away, I tell you!
Marína	I see, you do want to throw me over.
Nikíta	Well, and what’s there to remember? You 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!
Marína	Not wanted! So now I’m not wanted! I believed you when you said you would love me. And now that you’ve ruined me, I’m not wanted.
Nikíta	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 anyone 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 go away. Goodness me! what a duffer!
Marína	It’s not that you deceived me when you promised 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!
Nikíta	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, Nikíta!
Nikíta	Supposing someone came in. Of course, it’s quite improper. And what’s the good of talking?
Marína	So this is the end of it! What has been has flown. You want me to forget it? Well then, Nikíta, 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, Nikíta! Goodbye, then, if it is to be. Oh, how I loved you! Goodbye for the last time. Takes his head in her hands and tries to kiss him.
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	What’s up?
Akoulína	What a cry she gave! Cries.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	Here’s a fine muddle. I’m as sweet as honey on the lasses, but when a fellow’s sinned with ’em it’s a bad lookout!

Curtain.

Act II

The scene represents the village street. To the left the outside of Peter’s hut, built of logs, with a porch in the middle; to the right of the hut the gates and a corner of the yard buildings. 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! 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. You go and take the clothes to the river to rinse. Else you’ll not have finished by the evening.
Akoulína	But he told me to go.
Anísya	You go and do as you’re bid. 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—probably about the money.
Matryóna	Well, naturally! But hasn’t he given it to anyone else?
Anísya	To no one. I watch like a hawk.
Matryóna	And where is it?
Anísya	He doesn’t let out. And I can’t find out in any way. He hides it now here, now there, and I can’t do anything because of 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 anyone 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 Nikíta, 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 Anísya. 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 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 icons.1 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 tomorrow 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. It’s all right as long as one’s young, but who’ll care for you when you’re old? Oh yes, old age is not pleasure. Just look at me. I’ve not walked very far, and yet am so footsore I don’t know how to stand. Where’s my son?
Anísya	Ploughing. But you come in and we’ll get the samovar ready; the tea’ll set you up again.
Matryóna	Sitting down. Yes, it’s true, I’m quite done up, my dears. As to extreme unction, that’s absolutely necessary. Besides, they say it’s good for the soul.
Anísya	Yes, we’ll send tomorrow.
Matryóna	Yes, you had better. And we’ve had a wedding down in our parts.
Neighbour	What, in spring?2
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! And what do people say to it? And he, 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 head, my 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.
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?
Anísya	I had a taste of the tea myself—just a little bitter. And he drank them with the tea and says, “Even 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 stepdaughter an idiot; the old man rotten, sucking her lifeblood. What wouldn’t one be ready to do in such a case!”
Anísya	I’m not going to deny it. A life such as mine could make one do worse than that. It could make you hang yourself or throttle him. Is this a life?
Matryóna	That’s just it. There’s no time to stand gaping; the money must be found one way or other, and then he must have his tea.
Anísya	O-oh, my head, my head! I can’t think what to do. I am so frightened; he’d better die of himself. I don’t want to have it on my soul.
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 anything. 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 samovar 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 samovar.
Matryóna	Go, honey, do the business so as not to regret it afterwards. That’s right! Anísya turns to go. Matryóna calls her back.
Matryóna	Just a word. Don’t tell Nikíta 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 tenderhearted. 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.
Anísya	Steps from behind the corner. Why have you come out? You should have stayed 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, I’m that 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 samovar? Here’s Mother Matryóna come to see her son; you’ll have a cup of tea with her?
Peter	Well then, light it. Anísya 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 old man, he’s that sorry! “Go,” says he, “see how he’s getting on.” He sends his respects to you. Bows again.
Peter	I’m dying.
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, and 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.
Peter	Let me sit here a bit for the last time. The air’s so stuffy inside. Oh, how bad I feel! Oh, my heart’s burning. … Oh, if death would only come.
Matryóna	If God don’t take a soul, the soul can’t go out. 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 today, I feel it. Leans back and shuts his eyes.
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 samovar ready?
Anísya	Just on the boil.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	Well, let him sit. What’s it to me?
Peter	Opens his eyes. Nikíta, I say, Nikíta, come here! Nikíta approaches. Anísya and Matryóna whisper together.
Peter	Why have you come back so early?
Nikíta	I’ve finished ploughing.
Peter	Have you done the strip beyond the bridge?
Nikíta	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.
Peter	Well then—o-oh! … Get out the seed potatoes, and the women will go and sort them.
Anísya	Aside. No fear, I’m not going. He’s again sending everyone away; he must have the money on him now, and wants to hide it somewhere.
Peter	Else … o-oh! when the time comes for planting, 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?
Peter	Help me in. Stops. Nikíta!
Nikíta	Angrily. What now?
Peter	I shan’t see you again … I’ll die today. … Forgive me,3 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!
Nikíta	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 Nikíta. Why did you say the money was under the floor? It’s not there.
Nikíta	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?
Nikíta	Angrily. How should I know? Go and look for it yourself!
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!
Nikíta	What are you to be pitied for?
Anísya	If he dies, and the money’s been hidden away …
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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. Nikíta steps aside.
Matryóna	Comes out of the hut and down the steps of the porch to Anísya* and Nikíta.* Don’t go anywhere. He’s got the money on him. I felt it on a string round his neck.
Anísya	Oh my head, my head!
Matryóna	If you don’t keep wide awake now, then you may whistle for it. If his sister comes—then goodbye 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 samovar is boiling, go and make the tea and pour him out a cup, and then whispers put in all that’s left in the paper. When he’s drunk the cup, then just take it. He’ll not tell, no fear.
Anísya	Oh! I’m afeared!
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 Nikíta will hide it.
Anísya	Oh my head, my head! I don’t know how I’m going to …
Matryóna	Don’t talk about it I tell you, do as I bid you. Nikíta!
Nikíta	What is it?
Matryóna	You stay here—sit down—in case something 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 samovar’s boiling over.
Anísya	Oh my head, my poor head! Exit.
Matryóna	Approaches Nikíta. Now then, sonnie. Sits down beside him. Your affairs must also be thought about, and not left anyhow.
Nikíta	What affairs?
Matryóna	Why, this affair—how you’re to live your life.
Nikíta	How to live my life? Others live, and I shall live!
Matryóna	The old man will probably die today.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	And what’s it you’ve been bothering about?
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. I went there the other day. I had something else to settle, you know. Well, so I sat and chatted awhile and then came to the point. “Tell me, Iván Moséitch,” says I, “how’s one to manage an affair of this kind? Supposing,” 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.”
Nikíta	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 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. Nikíta reads.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	What’s that to me? The money’s hers—so let her look out.
Matryóna	Ah, sonnie, how you look at it! How can a woman manage such affairs? Even if she does get the money, is she capable of arranging it all? One knows what a woman is! You’re a man anyhow. You can hide it, and all that. You see, you’ve after all got more sense, in case of anything happening.
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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!
Anísya	Stops irresolutely. Oh, my head, my head!
Nikíta	Well, give it here. I’ll shove it away somewhere.
Anísya	Where will you shove it to?
Nikíta	Laughing. Why, are you afraid?
	Enter Akoulína, carrying clothes from the wash.
Anísya	O-oh, my poor head! Gives the money. Mind, Nikíta.
Nikíta	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 Nikíta’s mother from Zoúevo, my dearie. Good afternoon to you. He’s withering, withering away, poor dear—your brother, I mean. He came out himself. “Send for my sister,” he said, “because,” said he … Dear me, why, I do believe, he’s dead!
Anísya	Runs out screaming. Clings to a post, and begins wailing.4 Oh, oh, ah! who-o-o-m have you left me 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 Anísya under the arms to support her. Akoulína 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 samovar is still hot. I’ll also go and help a bit.

Curtain.

Act III

The same hut. 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	Nikíta 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. But it’s time he was back.
Anísya	What need has he to hurry? He’s got money. Merrymaking 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, blest if he didn’t; “you shall choose it yourself,” he says. And she got herself up so fine; she put on her velveteen coat and the French shawl.
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 lookout. 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?
Anísya	Gets up from the loom and sits down by the table. There was someone 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 see 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 stepfather!
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 married 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 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!
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. She’s grown 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.
Anísya	Much reason for envy indeed! And the riches, 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.
Anísya	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 Akím* 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 mean. So there, I’ve come, you see.
Anísya	Nikíta told me. When he comes back you’ll 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 … 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.
Akím	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 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 Anísya. 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 today I mean, and some tomorrow; 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 advised us at the time. “Put the money in the bank,” he 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.
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 you. “Couldn’t you make some profit with my money too?” she says. “Why not?” say you, and you wait. Before the summer I come again and say, “Give me 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, without 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! Thank you, my dear, I’ve had enough. I’m quite satisfied. Rises. Mítritch* 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. How d’you do, grandfather?
Anísya	Well? Is he there?
Nan	No. But Andriyán is there. He’s been to town, and he says he saw them at an inn in town. He says Dad’s as drunk as drunk can be!
Anísya	Do you want anything to eat? Here you are.
Nan	Goes to the oven. Well, it is cold. My hands are quite numb. Akím 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 chatter 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 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? Have you forgotten?
Anísya	Now don’t humbug. Come in!
Nikíta	Still more severely. Who’s come?
Anísya	Goes up and takes him by the arm. Well then, husband has come. Now then, come in!
Nikíta	Holds back. Ah, that’s it! Husband! And what’s husband called? Speak properly.
Anísya	Oh bother you! Nikíta!
Nikíta	Where have you learnt manners? The full name.
Anísya	Nikíta 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!
Nikíta	Ah, that’s it. Holds on to the doorpost. No, now say with which foot Tchilíkin steps into this house!
Anísya	That’s enough! You’re letting the cold in!
Nikíta	Say with which foot he steps? You’ve got to say it—that’s flat.
Anísya	Aside. He’ll go on worrying. To Nikíta. Well then, with the left. Come in!
Nikíta	Ah, that’s it.
Anísya	You look who’s in the hut!
Nikíta	Ah, my parent! Well, what of that? I’m not 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!
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	Wife, say where am I standing?
Anísya	Now then, it’s all right, lie down!
Nikíta	No, I’ll first drink a samovar with my parent. Go and light the samovar. Akoulína, I say, come here!
	Enter Akoulína, smartly dressed and carrying their purchases.
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.
Nikíta	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 samovar?
Nikíta	Light it! My parent has come. I wish to talk 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. Akím does not look at his son, but puts his leg-bands and bast-shoes on the oven.*
Anísya	Going out with the samovar. 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 everything. That’s the case.
Akím	Goes on fidgeting with the leg-bands. Eh, lad, “It’s ill sledging when the thaw has set in.”
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	The money, here it is. Puts his hand in his pocket, pulls out pocketbook, 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. Because he’s my parent! Here you are, take it! Really now, I don’t grudge it. Comes up and pushes the note towards Akím* who won’t take it. Nikíta 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.
Nikíta	I’ll not let you go! Take it! Puts the money into Akím’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!
Nikíta	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?
Nikíta	Show your presents.
Akoulína	The presents, what’s the use of showing ’em? I’ve put ’em away.
Nikíta	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! Mary has a dress like it, only lighter on a blue ground. This is pretty.
Nikíta	Ah, that’s it!
	Anísya passes angrily into the closet, returns with a tablecloth and the chimney of the samovar, and goes up to the table.
Anísya	Drat you, littering the table!
Nikíta	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.
Akoulína	What are you pitching things down for? You pitch your own things about! Picks up the shawl.
Nikíta	Anísya! Look here!
Anísya	Why am I to look?
Nikíta	You think I have forgotten you? Look here! Shows her a parcel and sits down on it. It’s a present for you. Only you must earn it! Wife, where am I sitting?
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? No fear! You wished to steal it, but it did not come off! Get out of the way! Pushes her while trying to pass.
Anísya	What are you shoving for? I’ll teach you to shove!
Akoulína	Shove me? You try! Presses against Anísya.
Nikíta	Now then, now then, you women. Have done now! Steps between them.
Akoulína	Comes shoving herself in! You ought to keep quiet and remember your doings! You think no one knows!
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!
Nikíta	Holding her back. Anísya, you seem to have forgotten!
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! Nikíta pushes her, Anísya 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 are you doing, you scoundrel? Do you think there’s no law for you? You wait a bit!
Nikíta	Now then!
Anísya	I’ll go to the Elder! To the policeman!
Nikíta	Off, I tell you! Pushes her out.
Anísya	Behind the door. I’ll hang myself!
Nikíta	No fear!
Nan	Oh, oh, oh! Mother, dear, darling! Cries.
Nikíta	Me frightened of her! A likely thing! What are you crying for? She’ll come back, no fear. Go and see to the samovar. Exit Nan.
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!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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 mistress 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! She can’t live here with me. The mistress indeed! She’s not the mistress—that jailbird!
Nikíta	That’s enough! What have you to do with her? Don’t mind her. You look at me! I am the master! I do as I like. I’ve ceased to love her, and now I love you. I love who I like! The power is mine, 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 Mítritch. 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 samovar is just boiling over.
Nikíta	And where’s your mother?
Nan	She’s standing and crying out there in the passage.
Nikíta	Oh, that’s it! Call her, and tell her to bring the samovar. And you, Akoulína, get the tea things.
Akoulína	The tea things? All right. Brings the things.
Nikíta	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, eighty kopecks, oil … Father, ten roubles. … Father, come let’s have some tea!
	Silence. Akím* sits on the oven and winds the bands round his legs. Enter Anísya with samovar.*
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 wineglass for her. And here’s your present. Gives her the parcel he had been sitting 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.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	But are you going without having any tea?
Akím	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.
Nikíta	Eh now! Have done talking! Sit down and drink your tea!
Anísya	Why, father, you’ll shame us before the neighbours. 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.
Nikíta	What ruin? Just prove it!
Akím	Ruin, ruin; you’re in the midst of it! What did I tell you that time?
Nikíta	You said all sorts of things!
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!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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 begging, begging I mean, before I’ll take it, I mean.
Nikíta	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.
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.
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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 represents 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.5 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 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 disgrace.
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 hiccuping.
The Father	Oh, I’m all in a sweat. It’s awfully hot! 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: 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 tomorrow. Don’t you worry about the girl!
The Father	Well, of course, the thing’s settled.
Matryóna	Yes, of course! Don’t you turn back. And don’t forget me, I’ve had a lot of trouble. Don’t forget …
	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 Anísya. Mother!
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! I’m blest! “I can’t bear it,” she says. “I’ll scream,” she says, “I’ll scream out loud.” Blest if she didn’t.
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 frightened!
Anísya	No fear, she’ll not die. But don’t you go near her. Come along. Exit Anísya* 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 Nikíta.
Nikíta	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?
Nikíta	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’6 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.
Nikíta	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.
	Nikíta is long silent. Sits down on a sledge.
Nikíta	Here’s a go!
	Enter Anísya.
Anísya	Where are you?
Nikíta	Here.
Anísya	What are you doing there? There’s no time to be lost! We must take it out directly!
Nikíta	What are we to do?
Anísya	I’ll tell you what you are to do. And you’ll have to do it!
Nikíta	You’d better take it to the Foundlings’—if anything.
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!
Nikíta	What’s to be done?
Anísya	Go down into the cellar, I tell you, and dig a hole!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	Oh dear, what a go!
	Enter Nan.
Nan	Mother! Grandmother’s calling! I think sister’s got a baby! I’m blest if it didn’t scream!
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 Nikíta. Do as you’re told, or else mind! Exit.
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	What do you mean to do?
Matryóna	We know what to do. You do your share!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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 anyone; she’ll keep it close. Go then; go, dear.
Nikíta	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?
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!
Nikíta	Taken aback. What will you tell?
Anísya	What? Everything! Who took the money? You! Nikíta 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. Nikíta 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!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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 consequences.
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!
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 Nikíta* 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!
Nikíta	From the cellar. Show a light!
Matryóna	Holds up the lantern to him. To Anísya. 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.

Matryóna	How the woman bristled up! But one must allow 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?
Nikíta	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?
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 Nikíta.
Nikíta	Does not take it. You bring it yourself!
Anísya	Take it, I tell you! Throws the baby to him.
Nikíta	Catches it. It’s alive! Gracious me, it’s moving! It’s alive! What am I to …
Anísya	Snatches the baby from him and throws it into the cellar. Be quick and smother it, and then it won’t be alive! Pushes Nikíta* down.* It’s your doing, and you must finish it.
Matryóna	Sits on the doorstep of the hut. He’s tenderhearted. 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 was: well, but what of that? If it is hard, it’s the only thing to be done. Where was one to put it? And just think, how often it happens that people pray to God to have children! But no, God gives them none; or they are all stillborn. Look at our priest’s wife now. … And here, where it’s not wanted, here it lives. Looks towards 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! One would be glad not to sin, but what’s one to do?
	Reenter Nikíta* from cellar, trembling all over.*
Nikíta	It’s still alive! I can’t! It’s alive!
Anísya	If it’s alive, where are you off to? Tries to stop him.
Nikíta	Rushes at her. Go away! I’ll kill you! Catches hold of her arms; 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! Matryóna runs to Anísya in the porch. Nikíta stops. I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!
Matryóna	That’s because he’s so frightened! Never mind, it will pass!
Nikíta	What have they made me do? What have they made me do? How it whimpered. … How it crunched under me! 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!
Nikíta	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 crunched 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?
Nikíta	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 darling! Come, come, drink a drop to give you courage!
Nikíta	Mother, mother! It seems my time has come! What have you done with me? How the little bones crunched, and how it whimpered! My own mother! What have you done with me? Steps aside and sits down on the sledge.
Matryóna	Come, my own, have a drink! It certainly does seem uncanny at nighttime. 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.
Nikíta	Rouses himself. Is there any drink left? Perhaps I can drink it off! Exit.
	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!
Nikíta	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 flattened 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.

Variation

Instead of the end of Act IV the following variation may be read, and is the one usually acted.

Scene II

The interior of the hut as in Act I.

Nan lies on the bench, and is covered with a coat. Mítritch is sitting on the oven smoking.

Mítritch	Dear me! How they’ve made the place smell! Drat ’em! They’ve been spilling the fine stuff. Even tobacco don’t get rid of the smell! It keeps tickling 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,7 don’t put it out!
Mítritch	Not put it out? Why?
Nan	Didn’t you hear them making a row in the yard? Listens. D’you hear, there in the barn again now?
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?
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! Blest if I didn’t hear 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 tonight. Quite a treat! Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas!
Nan	Daddy! are you going to sleep?
Mítritch	What else? Do you think I’m going to sing songs?
	Silence.
Nan	Daddy! Daddy, I say! They are digging! they’re digging—don’t you hear? Blest if they’re not, they’re digging!
Mítritch	What are you dreaming about? Digging! Digging in the night! Who’s digging? The cow’s rubbing herself, that’s all. Digging indeed! Go to sleep I tell you, else I’ll just put out the light!
Nan	Daddy darling, don’t put it out! I won’t … truly, truly, I won’t. It’s so frightful!
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! Are you asleep?
Mítritch	Now then, what d’you want?
Nan	What’s the bogey like?
Mítritch	Why, like this! When he finds such a one as you, who won’t sleep, he comes with a sack and pops the girl into it, then in he gets himself, head and all, lifts her dress, and gives her a fine whipping!
Nan	What with?
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 someone coming! Who is it? Oh gracious goodness! Who can it be?
Mítritch	Well, if someone’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.
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. Suppose it were to die unbaptized! It would be a sin, you know!
Mítritch	Of course it would! Everything in due order. … Have you found it?
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? I heard her! Blest if I didn’t!
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 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! Well, so I began stroking her head. It was so bristly—just like a hedgehog! So I stroked and stroked, and she quieted down at last. I soaked a bit of rusk and gave it her. She understood that, and began nibbling. What were we to do with her? We took her; took her, and began feeding and feeding her, 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!
Nan	Yes, and not baptized?
Mítritch	Who can tell! They used to say, not altogether. ’Cos why, those people weren’t our own.
Nan	Germans?
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!8 We 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. That’s all I remember! She’d hang round one’s neck, and one ’ud carry her so. That was a girl—if you wanted a better you’d not find one! We gave her away afterwards. The captain’s wife took her to bring up as her daughter. So—she was all right! How sorry the soldiers were to let her go!
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 creatures! 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?
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 of you not go to the bad? Who teaches you? What do you see? What do you hear? Only vileness! I, though I’ve not been taught much, still know a thing or two. I’m not quite like a peasant woman. A 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 putting them under the perches in the henhouse! That’s what they know!
Nan	Yes, mother also did that!
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—you are 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! Someone’s screaming awfully! Blest if someone isn’t screaming! Daddy darling, it’s coming here!
Mítritch	Cover up your head, I tell you!
	Enter Nikíta, followed by Matryóna.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	Give it here! Perhaps the drink will help me!
Matryóna	Mind! They’re not asleep! Here you are, have a drop!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	My own mother! My turn seems to have come! How it began to whimper, and how the little bones crunched … krr … I’m not a man now!
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 Nikíta* and puts her hand on his shoulder.*
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	I have nowhere to go; I’m lost!
Matryóna	Shaking her head. Oh, oh, I’d better go and tidy things up. He’ll sit and rest a bit, and it will pass! Exit.
	Nikíta sits with his face in his hands. Mítritch and Nan seem stunned.
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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? … There!
Matryóna	Whispers. No! I tell you!
Nikíta	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 … really, really … I must go! Daddy, darling! let me get up on the oven with you! Let me, for Heaven’s sake! Catching hold … catching hold! Oh! Runs to the stove.
Mítritch	See how they’ve frightened the girl. … What vile creatures they are! May the frogs kick them! Well then, climb up.
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. Covers her up. There’s a little fool—really a little fool! How they’ve frighted her; really, they are vile creatures! The deuce take ’em!

Curtain.

fetching the rest…

Dramatis Personae

Peter Ignátitch. A well-to-do peasant, forty-two years old, married for the second time, and sickly

Anísya. His wife, thirty-two years old, fond of dress

Akoulína. Peter’s daughter by his first marriage, sixteen years old, hard of hearing, mentally undeveloped

Nan (Anna Petróvna). His daughter by his second marriage, ten years old

Nikíta. Their labourer, twenty-five years old, fond of dress

Akím. Nikíta’s father, fifty years old, a plain-looking, God-fearing peasant

Matryóna. His wife and Nikíta’s mother, fifty years old

Marína. An orphan girl, twenty-two years old

Martha. Peter’s sister

Mítritch. An old labourer, ex-soldier

Simon. Marína’s husband

Bridegroom. Engaged to Akoulína

Iván. 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.

Act I

Peter

Looking out of the window. The horses have got loose again. If we don’t look out they’ll be killing the colt. Nikíta! Hey, Nikíta! Is the fellow deaf? Listens. To the women. Shut up, one can’t hear anything.

Nikíta

From outside. What?

Peter

Drive the horses in.

Nikíta

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. Nikíta! … It’s no good shouting. One of you’d better go. Go, Akoúl, drive ’em in.

Akoulína

What? The horses?

Peter

What else?

Akoulína

All right. Exit.

Peter

Ah, but he’s a loafer, that lad … no good at all. Won’t stir a finger if he can help it.

Anísya

You’re so mighty brisk yourself. When you’re not sprawling on the top of the oven you’re squatting on the bench. To goad others to work is all you’re fit for.

Peter

If one weren’t to goad you on a bit, one’d have no 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. I’d like to sack him, I would indeed.

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 Nikíta?

Akoulína

Where’s Nikíta? 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. Nikíta’s father and mother have come. They’re going to take him away. It’s true!

Anísya

Nonsense!

Nan

Yes. Blest if they’re not! Laughing. I was just going by, and Nikíta, he says, “Goodbye, 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!

Peter

Well, let him go. Just as if I couldn’t find somebody else.

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, anyhow.

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! I’ll go and lie on the top of the oven same as you, and let everything go to pot! You may do what you like.

Peter

To 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?

Anísya

Hold your noise, you idiot!

Akoulína

Going to the door. I know why you’re swearing 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.

Nikíta

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?

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

There’s a go now. How is it possible to go against one’s father’s will?

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.

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

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 …

Nikíta

Why should I go? Had I wanted to go—I should have gone long ago. There was Iván Semyónitch t’other day—offered me a place as his coachman. … Only fancy what a life that would have been! But I did not go. Because, I reckon, I am good enough for anyone. 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; then we could cover our sin, make it all right and lawful, and then you’ll be master here.

Nikíta

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?

Nikíta

Embracing her. There, as you have ever been in my heart …

Matryóna

Enters, and crosses herself a long time before the icon. Nikíta and Anísya step apart. What I saw I didn’t perceive, what I heard I didn’t hearken to. Playing with the lass, eh? Well—even a calf will play. Why shouldn’t one have some fun when one’s young? But your master is out in the yard a-calling you, sonnie.

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

Stooping to pick up axe. I say, mother, is it true you want me to marry? As I reckon, that’s quite unnecessary. 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.

Nikíta

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?

Matryóna

Eh, why should he marry, my jewel? It’s all nonsense, all my old man’s drivel. “Marry, marry.” But he’s reckoning without his host. You know the saying, “From oats and hay, why should horses stray?” When you’ve enough and to spare, why look elsewhere? And so in this case. Winks. Don’t I see which way the wind blows?

Anísya

Where’s the good of my pretending to you, 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 hayfork it wouldn’t fetch blood. See if you don’t bury him before the spring. Then you’ll need someone 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. It’s all nonsense. You know my old man. His wits are always woolgathering; 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.

Anísya

And what started this business?

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 as shouldn’t. 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 anything 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? Supposing 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 happiness, 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 baggage like that? Nikíta is a sensible fellow, you see. He knows whom to love. So don’t you go and fret, my jewel. We’ll not take him away, and we won’t marry him. No, we’ll let him stay on, if you’ll only oblige us with a little money.

Anísya

All I know is, that I could not live if Nikíta 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?

Matryóna

“No sign whatever,” he says. He’s taken a rouble for it. “Can’t sell it for less,” he says. Because 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 frightened!

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.

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 anyone notices it, tell ’em it’s for the black-beetles. Takes the rouble. It’s also used for beetles. Stops short.

Enter Akím, who crosses himself in front of the icon, 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. ’Cos why? I’m afeared 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. Akím sits down. Well then, what’s it all about? You want him to marry?

Matryóna

As to marrying, he might bide a while, 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 raspberries 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, … pays, pays, I mean. And as to the smell being, what d’you call it, it’s not for the likes of us to complain. And one changes one’s clothes. So we’d like to take what’s his name … Nikíta I mean, home. Let him manage things at home while I, what d’you call it—earn something 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.

Matryóna

Ah, but it’s not yet settled between ourselves, Peter Ignátitch. I’ll speak to you as I would before God, and you may judge between my old man and me. He goes on harping on that marriage. But just ask—who it is he wants him to marry. If it were a girl of the right sort now—I am not my child’s enemy, but 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 Nikíta, 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, Nikíta, 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 anyone 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.

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! Sling her round your neck and carry her about with you! That’s enough of such empty cackle!

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 hardworking 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. 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. First let us settle one thing before we start another.

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 …

Enter Nikíta and Nan.

Nikíta

You called me? Sits down and takes out his tobacco-pouch.

Peter

In a low, reproachful voice. What are you thinking 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!

Nikíta 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.

Nikíta

Who’s been complaining?

Akím

Complaining? It’s a maid, an orphan maid, complaining, I mean. It’s her, you know—a complaint against you, from Marína, I mean.

Nikíta

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 mixed up with the lass, I mean—mixed up, you know?

Nikíta

I don’t know what you mean. What’s up?

Akím

Foolin’, I mean, what d’you call it? foolin’. Have you been foolin’ with her, I mean?

Nikíta

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, Nikíta, but answer your father straight out.

Akím

Solemnly. You can hide it from men but not from God, Nikíta. You, what d’you call it—think, I mean, and don’t tell lies. She’s an orphan; so, you see, anyone is free to insult her. An orphan, you see. So you should say what’s rightest.

Nikíta

But what if I have nothing to say? I have told you everything—because there isn’t anything to tell, 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 Mikíshin? Besides, how’s this, that one mayn’t even have a bit of fun nowadays? And as for her, well, she’s free to say anything she likes.

Akím

Ah, Nikíta, mind! A lie will out. Did anything happen?

Nikíta

Aside. How he sticks to it; it’s too bad. To Akím. 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? What do you mean by it?—it’s a confounded shame. Besides, 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?

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, Nikíta, 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.

Nikíta

Sits down. What’s there to mind? mind yourself.

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. 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 thinking 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.

Matryóna

And it’s for a year he’ll bind himself. If we want help when the press 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?

Akím

Sighing. Yes, it seems, it what d’you call it … if 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 Anísya. 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?

Akím

Ah, tea! yes, I do sin that way. Yes, tea’s the thing.

Peter

And the women will also have some tea. Come. And you, Nikíta, go and drive the sheep in and clear away the straw.

Nikíta

All right. Exeunt all but Nikíta. Nikíta 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 icon. It was just as if someone 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 simple 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.

Nikíta

What, to look at you? I can see you well enough without.

Akoulína

Oh, bother you!

Nan enters and whispers to Nikíta.

Nan

Nikíta, there’s a person wants you. There is!

Nikíta

What person?

Nan

Marína from the railway; she’s out there, round the corner.

Nikíta

Nonsense!

Nan

Blest if she isn’t!

Nikíta

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 must say a word to him somehow.” She’s been waiting a long time. Why don’t you go?

Nikíta

Bother her! What should I go for?

Nan

She says, “If he don’t come, I’ll go into the hut to him.” Blest if she didn’t say she’d come in!

Nikíta

Not likely. She’ll wait a bit and then go away.

Nan

“Or is it,” she says, “that they want him to marry Akoulína?”

Reenter Akoulína, passing near Nikíta to take her distaff.

Akoulína

Marry whom to Akoulína?

Nan

Why, Nikíta.

Akoulína

A likely thing! Who says it?

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

And why not now?

Akoulína

’Cos you wouldn’t love me.

Nikíta

Why not?

Akoulína

’Cos you’d be forbidden to. Laughs.

Nikíta

Who’d forbid it?

Akoulína

Who? My stepmother. She does nothing but grumble, and is always staring at you.

Nikíta

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 coming! I’m blest if she isn’t! I’ll go away. Exit.

Marína

Enters. What are you doing with me?

Nikíta

Doing? I’m not doing anything.

Marína

You mean to desert me.

Nikíta

Gets up angrily. What does this look like, your coming here?

Marína

Oh, Nikíta!

Nikíta

Well, you are strange! What have you come for?

Marína

Nikíta!

Nikíta

That’s my name. What do you want with Nikíta? Well, what next? Go away, I tell you!

Marína

I see, you do want to throw me over.

Nikíta

Well, and what’s there to remember? You 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!

Marína

Not wanted! So now I’m not wanted! I believed you when you said you would love me. And now that you’ve ruined me, I’m not wanted.

Nikíta

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 anyone 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 go away. Goodness me! what a duffer!

Marína

It’s not that you deceived me when you promised 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!

Nikíta

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, Nikíta!

Nikíta

Supposing someone came in. Of course, it’s quite improper. And what’s the good of talking?

Marína

So this is the end of it! What has been has flown. You want me to forget it? Well then, Nikíta, 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, Nikíta! Goodbye, then, if it is to be. Oh, how I loved you! Goodbye for the last time. Takes his head in her hands and tries to kiss him.

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

What’s up?

Akoulína

What a cry she gave! Cries.

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

Here’s a fine muddle. I’m as sweet as honey on the lasses, but when a fellow’s sinned with ’em it’s a bad lookout!

Curtain.

Act II

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! 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. You go and take the clothes to the river to rinse. Else you’ll not have finished by the evening.

Akoulína

But he told me to go.

Anísya

You go and do as you’re bid. 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—probably about the money.

Matryóna

Well, naturally! But hasn’t he given it to anyone else?

Anísya

To no one. I watch like a hawk.

Matryóna

And where is it?

Anísya

He doesn’t let out. And I can’t find out in any way. He hides it now here, now there, and I can’t do anything because of 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 anyone 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 Nikíta, 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 Anísya. 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 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 icons.1 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 tomorrow 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. It’s all right as long as one’s young, but who’ll care for you when you’re old? Oh yes, old age is not pleasure. Just look at me. I’ve not walked very far, and yet am so footsore I don’t know how to stand. Where’s my son?

Anísya

Ploughing. But you come in and we’ll get the samovar ready; the tea’ll set you up again.

Matryóna

Sitting down. Yes, it’s true, I’m quite done up, my dears. As to extreme unction, that’s absolutely necessary. Besides, they say it’s good for the soul.

Anísya

Yes, we’ll send tomorrow.

Matryóna

Yes, you had better. And we’ve had a wedding down in our parts.

Neighbour

What, in spring?2

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! And what do people say to it? And he, 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 head, my 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.

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?

Anísya

I had a taste of the tea myself—just a little bitter. And he drank them with the tea and says, “Even 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 stepdaughter an idiot; the old man rotten, sucking her lifeblood. What wouldn’t one be ready to do in such a case!”

Anísya

I’m not going to deny it. A life such as mine could make one do worse than that. It could make you hang yourself or throttle him. Is this a life?

Matryóna

That’s just it. There’s no time to stand gaping; the money must be found one way or other, and then he must have his tea.

Anísya

O-oh, my head, my head! I can’t think what to do. I am so frightened; he’d better die of himself. I don’t want to have it on my soul.

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 anything. 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 samovar 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 samovar.

Matryóna

Go, honey, do the business so as not to regret it afterwards. That’s right! Anísya turns to go. Matryóna calls her back.

Matryóna

Just a word. Don’t tell Nikíta 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 tenderhearted. 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.

Anísya

Steps from behind the corner. Why have you come out? You should have stayed 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, I’m that 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 samovar? Here’s Mother Matryóna come to see her son; you’ll have a cup of tea with her?

Peter

Well then, light it. Anísya 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 old man, he’s that sorry! “Go,” says he, “see how he’s getting on.” He sends his respects to you. Bows again.

Peter

I’m dying.

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, and 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.

Peter

Let me sit here a bit for the last time. The air’s so stuffy inside. Oh, how bad I feel! Oh, my heart’s burning. … Oh, if death would only come.

Matryóna

If God don’t take a soul, the soul can’t go out. 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 today, I feel it. Leans back and shuts his eyes.

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 samovar ready?

Anísya

Just on the boil.

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

Well, let him sit. What’s it to me?

Peter

Opens his eyes. Nikíta, I say, Nikíta, come here! Nikíta approaches. Anísya and Matryóna whisper together.

Peter

Why have you come back so early?

Nikíta

I’ve finished ploughing.

Peter

Have you done the strip beyond the bridge?

Nikíta

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.

Peter

Well then—o-oh! … Get out the seed potatoes, and the women will go and sort them.

Anísya

Aside. No fear, I’m not going. He’s again sending everyone away; he must have the money on him now, and wants to hide it somewhere.

Peter

Else … o-oh! when the time comes for planting, 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?

Peter

Help me in. Stops. Nikíta!

Nikíta

Angrily. What now?

Peter

I shan’t see you again … I’ll die today. … Forgive me,3 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!

Nikíta

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 Nikíta. Why did you say the money was under the floor? It’s not there.

Nikíta

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?

Nikíta

Angrily. How should I know? Go and look for it yourself!

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!

Nikíta

What are you to be pitied for?

Anísya

If he dies, and the money’s been hidden away …

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

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. Nikíta steps aside.

Matryóna

Comes out of the hut and down the steps of the porch to Anísya and Nikíta. Don’t go anywhere. He’s got the money on him. I felt it on a string round his neck.

Anísya

Oh my head, my head!

Matryóna

If you don’t keep wide awake now, then you may whistle for it. If his sister comes—then goodbye 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 samovar is boiling, go and make the tea and pour him out a cup, and then whispers put in all that’s left in the paper. When he’s drunk the cup, then just take it. He’ll not tell, no fear.

Anísya

Oh! I’m afeared!

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 Nikíta will hide it.

Anísya

Oh my head, my head! I don’t know how I’m going to …

Matryóna

Don’t talk about it I tell you, do as I bid you. Nikíta!

Nikíta

What is it?

Matryóna

You stay here—sit down—in case something 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 samovar’s boiling over.

Anísya

Oh my head, my poor head! Exit.

Matryóna

Approaches Nikíta. Now then, sonnie. Sits down beside him. Your affairs must also be thought about, and not left anyhow.

Nikíta

What affairs?

Matryóna

Why, this affair—how you’re to live your life.

Nikíta

How to live my life? Others live, and I shall live!

Matryóna

The old man will probably die today.

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

And what’s it you’ve been bothering about?

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. I went there the other day. I had something else to settle, you know. Well, so I sat and chatted awhile and then came to the point. “Tell me, Iván Moséitch,” says I, “how’s one to manage an affair of this kind? Supposing,” 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.”

Nikíta

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 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. Nikíta reads.

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

What’s that to me? The money’s hers—so let her look out.

Matryóna

Ah, sonnie, how you look at it! How can a woman manage such affairs? Even if she does get the money, is she capable of arranging it all? One knows what a woman is! You’re a man anyhow. You can hide it, and all that. You see, you’ve after all got more sense, in case of anything happening.

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

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!

Anísya

Stops irresolutely. Oh, my head, my head!

Nikíta

Well, give it here. I’ll shove it away somewhere.

Anísya

Where will you shove it to?

Nikíta

Laughing. Why, are you afraid?

Enter Akoulína, carrying clothes from the wash.

Anísya

O-oh, my poor head! Gives the money. Mind, Nikíta.

Nikíta

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 Nikíta’s mother from Zoúevo, my dearie. Good afternoon to you. He’s withering, withering away, poor dear—your brother, I mean. He came out himself. “Send for my sister,” he said, “because,” said he … Dear me, why, I do believe, he’s dead!

Anísya

Runs out screaming. Clings to a post, and begins wailing.4 Oh, oh, ah! who-o-o-m have you left me 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 Anísya under the arms to support her. Akoulína 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 samovar is still hot. I’ll also go and help a bit.

Curtain.

Act III

The same hut. 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

Nikíta 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. But it’s time he was back.

Anísya

What need has he to hurry? He’s got money. Merrymaking 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, blest if he didn’t; “you shall choose it yourself,” he says. And she got herself up so fine; she put on her velveteen coat and the French shawl.

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 lookout. 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?

Anísya

Gets up from the loom and sits down by the table. There was someone 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 see 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 stepfather!

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 married 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 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!

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. She’s grown 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.

Anísya

Much reason for envy indeed! And the riches, 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.

Anísya

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 Akím 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 mean. So there, I’ve come, you see.

Anísya

Nikíta told me. When he comes back you’ll 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 … 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.

Akím

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 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 Anísya. 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 today I mean, and some tomorrow; 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 advised us at the time. “Put the money in the bank,” he 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.

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 you. “Couldn’t you make some profit with my money too?” she says. “Why not?” say you, and you wait. Before the summer I come again and say, “Give me 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, without 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! Thank you, my dear, I’ve had enough. I’m quite satisfied. Rises. Mítritch 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. How d’you do, grandfather?

Anísya

Well? Is he there?

Nan

No. But Andriyán is there. He’s been to town, and he says he saw them at an inn in town. He says Dad’s as drunk as drunk can be!

Anísya

Do you want anything to eat? Here you are.

Nan

Goes to the oven. Well, it is cold. My hands are quite numb. Akím 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 chatter 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 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? Have you forgotten?

Anísya

Now don’t humbug. Come in!

Nikíta

Still more severely. Who’s come?

Anísya

Goes up and takes him by the arm. Well then, husband has come. Now then, come in!

Nikíta

Holds back. Ah, that’s it! Husband! And what’s husband called? Speak properly.

Anísya

Oh bother you! Nikíta!

Nikíta

Where have you learnt manners? The full name.

Anísya

Nikíta 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!

Nikíta

Ah, that’s it. Holds on to the doorpost. No, now say with which foot Tchilíkin steps into this house!

Anísya

That’s enough! You’re letting the cold in!

Nikíta

Say with which foot he steps? You’ve got to say it—that’s flat.

Anísya

Aside. He’ll go on worrying. To Nikíta. Well then, with the left. Come in!

Nikíta

Ah, that’s it.

Anísya

You look who’s in the hut!

Nikíta

Ah, my parent! Well, what of that? I’m not 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!

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

Wife, say where am I standing?

Anísya

Now then, it’s all right, lie down!

Nikíta

No, I’ll first drink a samovar with my parent. Go and light the samovar. Akoulína, I say, come here!

Enter Akoulína, smartly dressed and carrying their purchases.

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.

Nikíta

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 samovar?

Nikíta

Light it! My parent has come. I wish to talk 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. Akím does not look at his son, but puts his leg-bands and bast-shoes on the oven.

Anísya

Going out with the samovar. 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 everything. That’s the case.

Akím

Goes on fidgeting with the leg-bands. Eh, lad, “It’s ill sledging when the thaw has set in.”

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

The money, here it is. Puts his hand in his pocket, pulls out pocketbook, 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. Because he’s my parent! Here you are, take it! Really now, I don’t grudge it. Comes up and pushes the note towards Akím who won’t take it. Nikíta 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.

Nikíta

I’ll not let you go! Take it! Puts the money into Akím’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!

Nikíta

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?

Nikíta

Show your presents.

Akoulína

The presents, what’s the use of showing ’em? I’ve put ’em away.

Nikíta

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! Mary has a dress like it, only lighter on a blue ground. This is pretty.

Nikíta

Ah, that’s it!

Anísya passes angrily into the closet, returns with a tablecloth and the chimney of the samovar, and goes up to the table.

Anísya

Drat you, littering the table!

Nikíta

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.

Akoulína

What are you pitching things down for? You pitch your own things about! Picks up the shawl.

Nikíta

Anísya! Look here!

Anísya

Why am I to look?

Nikíta

You think I have forgotten you? Look here! Shows her a parcel and sits down on it. It’s a present for you. Only you must earn it! Wife, where am I sitting?

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? No fear! You wished to steal it, but it did not come off! Get out of the way! Pushes her while trying to pass.

Anísya

What are you shoving for? I’ll teach you to shove!

Akoulína

Shove me? You try! Presses against Anísya.

Nikíta

Now then, now then, you women. Have done now! Steps between them.

Akoulína

Comes shoving herself in! You ought to keep quiet and remember your doings! You think no one knows!

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!

Nikíta

Holding her back. Anísya, you seem to have forgotten!

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! Nikíta pushes her, Anísya 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 are you doing, you scoundrel? Do you think there’s no law for you? You wait a bit!

Nikíta

Now then!

Anísya

I’ll go to the Elder! To the policeman!

Nikíta

Off, I tell you! Pushes her out.

Anísya

Behind the door. I’ll hang myself!

Nikíta

No fear!

Nan

Oh, oh, oh! Mother, dear, darling! Cries.

Nikíta

Me frightened of her! A likely thing! What are you crying for? She’ll come back, no fear. Go and see to the samovar. Exit Nan.

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!

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

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 mistress 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! She can’t live here with me. The mistress indeed! She’s not the mistress—that jailbird!

Nikíta

That’s enough! What have you to do with her? Don’t mind her. You look at me! I am the master! I do as I like. I’ve ceased to love her, and now I love you. I love who I like! The power is mine, 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 Mítritch. 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 samovar is just boiling over.

Nikíta

And where’s your mother?

Nan

She’s standing and crying out there in the passage.

Nikíta

Oh, that’s it! Call her, and tell her to bring the samovar. And you, Akoulína, get the tea things.

Akoulína

The tea things? All right. Brings the things.

Nikíta

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, eighty kopecks, oil … Father, ten roubles. … Father, come let’s have some tea!

Silence. Akím sits on the oven and winds the bands round his legs. Enter Anísya with samovar.

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 wineglass for her. And here’s your present. Gives her the parcel he had been sitting 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.

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

But are you going without having any tea?

Akím

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.

Nikíta

Eh now! Have done talking! Sit down and drink your tea!

Anísya

Why, father, you’ll shame us before the neighbours. 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.

Nikíta

What ruin? Just prove it!

Akím

Ruin, ruin; you’re in the midst of it! What did I tell you that time?

Nikíta

You said all sorts of things!

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!

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

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.

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

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 begging, begging I mean, before I’ll take it, I mean.

Nikíta

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.

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.

Nikíta

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!

Nikíta

I don’t want it! Put out the light … Oh, how dull I feel, how dull! Sobs.

Curtain.

Act IV

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 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 disgrace.
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 hiccuping.
The Father	Oh, I’m all in a sweat. It’s awfully hot! 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: 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 tomorrow. Don’t you worry about the girl!
The Father	Well, of course, the thing’s settled.
Matryóna	Yes, of course! Don’t you turn back. And don’t forget me, I’ve had a lot of trouble. Don’t forget …
	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 Anísya. Mother!
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! I’m blest! “I can’t bear it,” she says. “I’ll scream,” she says, “I’ll scream out loud.” Blest if she didn’t.
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 frightened!
Anísya	No fear, she’ll not die. But don’t you go near her. Come along. Exit Anísya* 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 Nikíta.
Nikíta	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?
Nikíta	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’6 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.
Nikíta	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.
	Nikíta is long silent. Sits down on a sledge.
Nikíta	Here’s a go!
	Enter Anísya.
Anísya	Where are you?
Nikíta	Here.
Anísya	What are you doing there? There’s no time to be lost! We must take it out directly!
Nikíta	What are we to do?
Anísya	I’ll tell you what you are to do. And you’ll have to do it!
Nikíta	You’d better take it to the Foundlings’—if anything.
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!
Nikíta	What’s to be done?
Anísya	Go down into the cellar, I tell you, and dig a hole!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	Oh dear, what a go!
	Enter Nan.
Nan	Mother! Grandmother’s calling! I think sister’s got a baby! I’m blest if it didn’t scream!
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 Nikíta. Do as you’re told, or else mind! Exit.
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	What do you mean to do?
Matryóna	We know what to do. You do your share!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	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 anyone; she’ll keep it close. Go then; go, dear.
Nikíta	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?
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!
Nikíta	Taken aback. What will you tell?
Anísya	What? Everything! Who took the money? You! Nikíta 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. Nikíta 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!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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 consequences.
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!
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 Nikíta* 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!
Nikíta	From the cellar. Show a light!
Matryóna	Holds up the lantern to him. To Anísya. 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.

Matryóna	How the woman bristled up! But one must allow 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?
Nikíta	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?
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 Nikíta.
Nikíta	Does not take it. You bring it yourself!
Anísya	Take it, I tell you! Throws the baby to him.
Nikíta	Catches it. It’s alive! Gracious me, it’s moving! It’s alive! What am I to …
Anísya	Snatches the baby from him and throws it into the cellar. Be quick and smother it, and then it won’t be alive! Pushes Nikíta* down.* It’s your doing, and you must finish it.
Matryóna	Sits on the doorstep of the hut. He’s tenderhearted. 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 was: well, but what of that? If it is hard, it’s the only thing to be done. Where was one to put it? And just think, how often it happens that people pray to God to have children! But no, God gives them none; or they are all stillborn. Look at our priest’s wife now. … And here, where it’s not wanted, here it lives. Looks towards 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! One would be glad not to sin, but what’s one to do?
	Reenter Nikíta* from cellar, trembling all over.*
Nikíta	It’s still alive! I can’t! It’s alive!
Anísya	If it’s alive, where are you off to? Tries to stop him.
Nikíta	Rushes at her. Go away! I’ll kill you! Catches hold of her arms; 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! Matryóna runs to Anísya in the porch. Nikíta stops. I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!
Matryóna	That’s because he’s so frightened! Never mind, it will pass!
Nikíta	What have they made me do? What have they made me do? How it whimpered. … How it crunched under me! 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!
Nikíta	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 crunched 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?
Nikíta	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 darling! Come, come, drink a drop to give you courage!
Nikíta	Mother, mother! It seems my time has come! What have you done with me? How the little bones crunched, and how it whimpered! My own mother! What have you done with me? Steps aside and sits down on the sledge.
Matryóna	Come, my own, have a drink! It certainly does seem uncanny at nighttime. 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.
Nikíta	Rouses himself. Is there any drink left? Perhaps I can drink it off! Exit.
	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!
Nikíta	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 flattened 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.

Variation

Instead of the end of Act IV the following variation may be read, and is the one usually acted.

Scene II

The interior of the hut as in Act I.

Nan lies on the bench, and is covered with a coat. Mítritch is sitting on the oven smoking.

Mítritch	Dear me! How they’ve made the place smell! Drat ’em! They’ve been spilling the fine stuff. Even tobacco don’t get rid of the smell! It keeps tickling 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,7 don’t put it out!
Mítritch	Not put it out? Why?
Nan	Didn’t you hear them making a row in the yard? Listens. D’you hear, there in the barn again now?
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?
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! Blest if I didn’t hear 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 tonight. Quite a treat! Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas!
Nan	Daddy! are you going to sleep?
Mítritch	What else? Do you think I’m going to sing songs?
	Silence.
Nan	Daddy! Daddy, I say! They are digging! they’re digging—don’t you hear? Blest if they’re not, they’re digging!
Mítritch	What are you dreaming about? Digging! Digging in the night! Who’s digging? The cow’s rubbing herself, that’s all. Digging indeed! Go to sleep I tell you, else I’ll just put out the light!
Nan	Daddy darling, don’t put it out! I won’t … truly, truly, I won’t. It’s so frightful!
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! Are you asleep?
Mítritch	Now then, what d’you want?
Nan	What’s the bogey like?
Mítritch	Why, like this! When he finds such a one as you, who won’t sleep, he comes with a sack and pops the girl into it, then in he gets himself, head and all, lifts her dress, and gives her a fine whipping!
Nan	What with?
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 someone coming! Who is it? Oh gracious goodness! Who can it be?
Mítritch	Well, if someone’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.
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. Suppose it were to die unbaptized! It would be a sin, you know!
Mítritch	Of course it would! Everything in due order. … Have you found it?
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? I heard her! Blest if I didn’t!
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 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! Well, so I began stroking her head. It was so bristly—just like a hedgehog! So I stroked and stroked, and she quieted down at last. I soaked a bit of rusk and gave it her. She understood that, and began nibbling. What were we to do with her? We took her; took her, and began feeding and feeding her, 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!
Nan	Yes, and not baptized?
Mítritch	Who can tell! They used to say, not altogether. ’Cos why, those people weren’t our own.
Nan	Germans?
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!8 We 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. That’s all I remember! She’d hang round one’s neck, and one ’ud carry her so. That was a girl—if you wanted a better you’d not find one! We gave her away afterwards. The captain’s wife took her to bring up as her daughter. So—she was all right! How sorry the soldiers were to let her go!
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 creatures! 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?
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 of you not go to the bad? Who teaches you? What do you see? What do you hear? Only vileness! I, though I’ve not been taught much, still know a thing or two. I’m not quite like a peasant woman. A 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 putting them under the perches in the henhouse! That’s what they know!
Nan	Yes, mother also did that!
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—you are 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! Someone’s screaming awfully! Blest if someone isn’t screaming! Daddy darling, it’s coming here!
Mítritch	Cover up your head, I tell you!
	Enter Nikíta, followed by Matryóna.
Nikíta	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.
Nikíta	Give it here! Perhaps the drink will help me!
Matryóna	Mind! They’re not asleep! Here you are, have a drop!
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	My own mother! My turn seems to have come! How it began to whimper, and how the little bones crunched … krr … I’m not a man now!
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 Nikíta* and puts her hand on his shoulder.*
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	I have nowhere to go; I’m lost!
Matryóna	Shaking her head. Oh, oh, I’d better go and tidy things up. He’ll sit and rest a bit, and it will pass! Exit.
	Nikíta sits with his face in his hands. Mítritch and Nan seem stunned.
Nikíta	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!
Nikíta	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? … There!
Matryóna	Whispers. No! I tell you!
Nikíta	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 … really, really … I must go! Daddy, darling! let me get up on the oven with you! Let me, for Heaven’s sake! Catching hold … catching hold! Oh! Runs to the stove.
Mítritch	See how they’ve frightened the girl. … What vile creatures they are! May the frogs kick them! Well then, climb up.
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. Covers her up. There’s a little fool—really a little fool! How they’ve frighted her; really, they are vile creatures! The deuce take ’em!

Curtain.