The Collected Works of Anton Chekhov: Plays, Novellas, Short Stories, Diary & Letters. Anton Chekhov

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      MERIK. All right, Orthodox brothers! [Shrugs his shoulders] Be quiet! You aren’t asleep, you bandy-legged fools! Why don’t you say something?

      EFIMOVNA. Take your great eyes away! Take away that devil’s own pride!

      MERIK. Be quiet, you crooked old woman! I didn’t come with the devil’s pride, but with kind words, wishing to honour your bitter lot! You’re huddled together like flies because of the cold — I’d be sorry for you, speak kindly to you, pity your poverty, and here you go grumbling away! [Goes up to FEDYA] Where are you from?

      FEDYA. I live in these parts. I work at the Khamonyevsky brickworks.

      MERIK. Get up.

      FEDYA. [Raising himself] Well?

      MERIK. Get up, right up. I’m going to lie down here.

      FEDYA. What’s that…. It isn’t your place, is it?

      MERIK. Yes, mine. Go and lie on the ground!

      FEDYA. You get out of this, you tramp. I’m not afraid of you.

      MERIK. You’re very quick with your tongue…. Get up, and don’t talk about it! You’ll be sorry for it, you silly.

      TIHON. [To FEDYA] Don’t contradict him, young man. Never mind.

      FEDYA. What right have you? You stick out your fishy eyes and think I’m afraid! [Picks up his belongings and stretches himself out on the ground] You devil! [Lies down and covers himself all over.]

      MERIK. [Stretching himself out on the bench] I don’t expect you’ve ever seen a devil or you wouldn’t call me one. Devils aren’t like that. [Lies down, putting his axe next to him.] Lie down, little brother axe… let me cover you.

      TIHON. Where did you get the axe from?

      MERIK. Stole it…. Stole it, and now I’ve got to fuss over it like a child with a new toy; I don’t like to throw it away, and I’ve nowhere to put it. Like a beastly wife…. Yes…. [Covering himself over] Devils aren’t like that, brother.

      FEDYA. [Uncovering his head] What are they like?

      MERIK. Like steam, like air…. Just blow into the air. [Blows] They’re like that, you can’t see them.

      A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. You can see them if you sit under a harrow.

      MERIK. I’ve tried, but I didn’t see any…. Old women’s tales, and silly old men’s, too…. You won’t see a devil or a ghost or a corpse…. Our eyes weren’t made so that we could see everything…. When I was a boy, I used to walk in the woods at night on purpose to see the demon of the woods…. I’d shout and shout, and there might be some spirit, I’d call for the demon of the woods and not blink my eyes: I’d see all sorts of little things moving about, but no demon. I used to go and walk about the churchyards at night, I wanted to see the ghosts — but the women lie. I saw all sorts of animals, but anything awful — not a sign. Our eyes weren’t…

      THE VOICE FROM THE CORNER. Never mind, it does happen that you do see…. In our village a man was gutting a wild boar… he was separating the tripe when… something jumped out at him!

      SAVVA. [Raising himself] Little children, don’t talk about these unclean things! It’s a sin, dears!

      MERIK. Aaa… greybeard! You skeleton! [Laughs] You needn’t go to the churchyard to see ghosts, when they get up from under the floor to give advice to their relations…. A sin!… Don’t you teach people your silly notions! You’re an ignorant lot of people living in darkness…. [Lights his pipe] My father was peasant and used to be fond of teaching people. One night he stole a sack of apples from the village priest, and he brings them along and tells us, “Look, children, mind you don’t eat any apples before Easter, it’s a sin.” You’re like that…. You don’t know what a devil is, but you go calling people devils…. Take this crooked old woman, for instance. [Points to EFIMOVNA] She sees an enemy in me, but is her time, for some woman’s nonsense or other, she’s given her soul to the devil five times.

      EFIMOVNA. Hoo, hoo, hoo…. Gracious heavens! [Covers her face] Little Savva!

      TIHON. What are you frightening them for? A great pleasure! [The door slams in the wind] Lord Jesus…. The wind, the wind!

      MERIK. [Stretching himself] Eh, to show my strength! [The door slams again] If I could only measure myself against the wind! Shall I tear the door down, or suppose I tear up the inn by the roots! [Gets up and lies down again] How dull!

      NAZAROVNA. You’d better pray, you heathen! Why are you so restless?

      EFIMOVNA. Don’t speak to him, leave him alone! He’s looking at us again. [To MERIK] Don’t look at us, evil man! Your eyes are like the eyes of a devil before cockcrow!

      SAVVA. Let him look, pilgrims! You pray, and his eyes won’t do you any harm.

      BORTSOV. No, I can’t. It’s too much for my strength! [Goes up to the counter] Listen, Tihon, I ask you for the last time…. Just half a glass!

      TIHON. [Shakes his head] The money!

      BORTSOV. My God, haven’t I told you! I’ve drunk it all! Where am I to get it? And you won’t go broke even if you do let me have a drop of vodka on tick. A glass of it only costs you two copecks, and it will save me from suffering! I am suffering! Understand! I’m in misery, I’m suffering!

      TIHON. Go and tell that to someone else, not to me…. Go and ask the Orthodox, perhaps they’ll give you some for Christ’s sake, if they feel like it, but I’ll only give bread for Christ’s sake.

      BORTSOV. You can rob those wretches yourself, I shan’t…. I won’t do it! I won’t! Understand? [Hits the bar-counter with his fist] I won’t. [A pause.] Hm… just wait…. [Turns to the pilgrim women] It’s an idea, all the same, Orthodox ones! Spare five copecks! My inside asks for it. I’m ill!

      FEDYA. Oh, you swindler, with your “spare five copecks.” Won’t you have some water?

      BORTSOV. How I am degrading myself! I don’t want it! I don’t want anything! I was joking!

      MERIK. You won’t get it out of him, sir…. He’s a famous skinflint…. Wait, I’ve got a five-copeck piece somewhere…. We’ll have a glass between us — half each [Searches in his pockets] The devil… it’s lost somewhere…. Thought I heard it tinkling just now in my pocket…. No; no, it isn’t there, brother, it’s your luck! [A pause.]

      BORTSOV. But if I can’t drink, I’ll commit a crime or I’ll kill myself…. What shall I do, my God! [Looks through the door] Shall I go out, then? Out into this darkness, wherever my feet take me….

      MERIK. Why don’t you give him a sermon, you pilgrims? And you, Tihon, why don’t you drive him out? He hasn’t paid you for his night’s accommodation. Chuck him out! Eh, the people are cruel nowadays. There’s no gentleness or kindness in them…. A savage people! A man is drowning and they shout to him: “Hurry up and drown, we’ve got no time to look at you; we’ve got to go to work.” As to throwing him a rope — there’s no worry about that…. A rope would cost money.

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