The Russian Masters: Works by Dostoevsky, Chekhov, Tolstoy, Pushkin, Gogol, Turgenev and More. Максим Горький

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      WIFE

      I'm afraid your prayer was not humble enough. There was a certain tone of pride in it.

      MAN

      No, no, my wife, I spoke well to Him, the way a man should speak. He cannot love cringing flatterers better than brave, proud men who speak the truth. No, wife, you cannot understand. Now I believe also and feel reassured—in fact, I am happy. I feel that I too still signify something to my boy, and it makes me glad. Go and see if he's asleep. He needs a lot of good, hard sleep.

       [The Wife goes out. Man, with a friendly look to the corner where Someone in Gray stands, picks up the toy clown, plays with it, and gives its red nose a quick kiss. At that instant his Wife enters and Man speaks shamefacedly.

      MAN

      I was begging his pardon. I insulted this fool. Well, how is our dear boy?

      WIFE

      He is so pale.

      MAN

      That's nothing. It'll pass away. He lost a lot of blood.

      WIFE

      It makes me so sad to look at his poor shorn head. He had such beautiful golden curls.

      MAN

      They had to be cut so that the wound could be washed. Never mind, wife, his hair will grow again and be still finer. Did you keep what was cut off? Be sure to keep it. His precious, blood is on it.

      WIFE

      Yes, I put it away in the chest, the last one left of all our wealth.

      MAN

      Don't worry about wealth. Just wait until our son begins to work. He'll restore all we've lost. I feel well again, wife, and I firmly believe in our future. Do you remember our poor little rosy room? The good neighbors scattered oak leaves in it, and you made a wreath of them and put it on my head and said I was a genius.

      WIFE

      I say so still. Other people have ceased to appreciate you, but not I.

      MAN

      No, my dear little wife, you're wrong. What genius creates outlives the old dirty bundle of rags known as the body, whereas I am still living, and my productions—

      WIFE

      No, they're not dead and they never will die. Do you remember that corner house you built ten years ago? Every evening at sunset you go to look at it. Is there a more beautiful building in the whole city, is there any with more depth to it?

      MAN

      Yes, I purposely built it so that the last rays of the setting sun should fall upon it and set its windows aglow. When the whole city is in darkness, my house is still taking leave of the sun. It was well done, and perhaps it will survive me a little while at least. What do you think?

      WIFE

      Of course, my friend.

      MAN

      The only thing that hurts, wife, is that the people have forgotten me so soon. They might have remembered me a little longer, just a little longer.

      WIFE

      They have forgotten what they knew, and ceased to love what they loved.

      MAN

      They might have remembered me a little longer, a little longer.

      WIFE

      I saw a young artist near that house. He studied it carefully and made a sketch of it in his sketchbook.

      MAN

      Ah, why didn't you tell me that before? It's highly significant, highly significant. It means that my ideas are accepted and handed down by others, and even if I am forgotten, my ideas will live. It is tremendously significant.

      WIFE

      Yes, my dear, you are not forgotten. Do you remember the young man who bowed so reverently to you on the street?

      MAN

      Yes, that's so, wife. He was a fine, very fine youth. He had such a nice young face. It's good you reminded me of his bow. It has sent a ray of brightness into my heart. But I feel sleepy. I must be tired. I am old too, my dear little gray wife. Have you noticed it?

      WIFE

      You're just as handsome as ever.

      MAN

      And my eyes are bright?

      WIFE

      Yes, your eyes are bright.

      MAN

      And my hair is black as pitch?

      WIFE

      It's so white, so like snow that it's even more beautiful.

      MAN

      And no wrinkles?

      WIFE

      Yes, there are little wrinkles on your face, but—

      MAN

      Of course, I know I'm a beauty. To-morrow I'll buy myself a uniform and enter the light cavalry. Yes? (His Wife laughs)

      WIFE

      There, you're joking too, as in olden times. But lie down here and sleep a little. I'll go to look after our boy. Don't worry, I won't leave him. I'll call you when he wakes. You don't care to kiss an old wrinkled СКАЧАТЬ