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

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       Man!

      —He's asleep, the drunken fool. It's dreadful to sleep, and yet he sleeps. He might die in his sleep.

      —Hey, there, wake him up!

      —Do you remember how it used to beat when it was young and strong?

       [A low laugh is heard.

      —Who's laughing? There are some here who have no business to be here.

      —It just seems so to you. We are all alone, only we drunkards.

      —I'll go out on the street and start a fight. I've been robbed. I'm stark naked, and my skin is green.

      —Good evening.

      —The wheel is rumbling again. Oh, Lord, they'll crush me! Help!

       [No one responds.

      —Good evening.

      —Do you remember his birth? I believe you were there.

      —I must be dying. Good Lord! Good Lord! Who will carry me to the

       grave? Who will bury me? I'll be lying like a dog on the street.

       People will step over me, wagons will ride over me. They'll crush me.

       Oh, my God! Oh, my God! (Cries)

      —Permit me to congratulate you, my dear friend, on the birth of your child.

      —I am positive there is a mistake here. For a circle to fall out of a straight line is an absurdity. I'll demonstrate it on the spot.

      —You're right.

      —Oh my! Oh my!

      —It's only ignoramuses in mathematics who will permit it. I won't. I won't permit it, do you hear?

      —Do you remember the rosy dress and the little bare neck?

      —And the flowers? The lilies-of-the-valley on which the dew never dried, and the violets, and the green grass?

      —Don't touch, don't touch the flowers, girls.

       [They utter a low and suppressed laugh.

      —Oh my! Oh my!

       [The drunkards have all gone. Their places are taken by the Old Women. The light grows steady and very faint. The figure of the Unknown is sharply outlined, and so is Man's gray head, on which a, faint light falls from above.

      OLD WOMEN'S CONVERSATION.

      —Good evening.

      —Good evening. What a splendid night!

      —Here we are together again. How are you feeling?

      —I cough a little.

       [They laugh suppressedly.

      —It won't take long now. He'll die soon.

      —Look at the candle. The flame is blue and thin and spreading sideways. There's no more wax. It's only the wick that's burning.

      —It doesn't want to go out.

      —When did you ever see a flame that did want to go out?

      —Don't dispute, don't dispute. Whether it wants to go out, or doesn't want to go out, time is flying.

      —Do you remember his motor car? He once almost ran me down.

      —And his fifteen rooms?

      —I was there a little while ago. The rats almost ate me up, and I caught a cold in the draught. Someone had stolen the window frames, and the wind was blowing through the whole house.

      —Did you try the bed in which his wife died? Isn't it soft and nice?

      —Yes, I went through all the rooms and let my fancy play a little. They have such a pretty nursery. It's a pity the window frames are knocked out there too, and the wind makes a racket with the litter on the floor. And the child's bed too is so dear. Now the rats have made their nest in it and breed their children there.

      —Such dear, naked little rats.

       [They titter.

      —And in his study the toys are lying on the table: a horse without a tail, a soldier's cap, and a red-nosed clown. I played a little with them. I put on the soldier's cap. It was very becoming to me. But there's such a lot of dust on the things. I got all dirty.

      —But did you go into the drawing-room where the ball was given? It's so gay there.

      —Yes, I did. Fancy what I saw. It was dark, the windows were broken, and the wind was playing with the wall-paper—

      —Making a sound as of music.

      —And in the darkness the guests were squatting on their knees at the wall—and you should have seen how they looked!

      —We know.

      —And they barked: "How rich! How magnificent! How brilliant! How rich!"

      —You're joking, of course.

      —Of course I'm joking. You know I have a funny disposition.

      —How rich! How magnificent!

      —How gay!

       [They titter.

      —Let's remind him of it!

      —How rich! How magnificent!

      —Do you remember how the music played at your ball?

      —He's going to die soon.

      —The dancers circled about, circled about, and the music played so gently, so beautifully. They played this way.

       [They make a semicircle about Man and hum the tune played by the musicians at the ball.

      —Let's get up a ball. It's so long since I've danced.

      —Imagine that this is a palace, a magnificent, an exquisitely beautiful palace.

      —Call the musicians. Why, you can't have a ball without music.

      —Musicians!

      —You remember?

       [They sing. At that instant the three musicians who played at the ball come down the stairs. The one with СКАЧАТЬ