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

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СКАЧАТЬ two paralytics were made to walk. You'll see for yourself, young man, and then you won't smile. I have heard that you are an unbeliever.

      SAVVA

      You have heard correctly. I am an unbeliever.

      FAT MONK

      It's a shame, a shame. Of course, there are many unbelievers nowadays among the educated classes. But are they any happier on that account? I doubt it.

      SAVVA

      No, there are not so many. They think they are unbelievers because they don't go to church. As a matter of fact, they have greater faith than you. It's more deep-seated.

      FAT MONK

      Is that so?

      SAVVA

      Yes, yes. The form of their faith is, of course, more refined. They are cultured, you see.

      FAT MONK

      Of course, of course. People feel better, feel more confident and secure, if they believe.

      SAVVA

      They say the devil is choking the monks here every night.

      FAT MONK (laughing)

      Nonsense. (To the Gray Monk passing by) Father Vissarion, come here a moment. Sit down. Mr. Tropinin's son here says the devil chokes us every night. Have you heard about it? (The two monks laugh good-naturedly as they look at each other)

      GRAY MONK

      Some of the monks can't sleep well because they have overeaten, so they think they are being choked. Why, young man, the devil can't enter within our sacred precincts.

      SAVVA

      But suppose he does suddenly put in an appearance? What will, you do then?

      FAT MONK

      We'll get after him with the holy-water sprinkler, that's what we'll do. "Don't butt in where you have no business to, you black-faced booby!" (The monk laughs)

      GRAY MONK

      Here comes King Herod.

      FAT MONK

      Wait a while, Father Vissarion. (To Savva) You talk about faith and such things. There's a man for you—look at him—see how he walks. And yet he has chains on him weighing four hundred pounds. He doesn't walk, he dances. He visits us every summer, and I must say he is a very valuable guest. His example strengthens others in their faith. Herod! Ho, Herod!

      KING HEROD

      What do you want?

      FAT MONK

      Come here a minute. This gentleman doubts the existence of God. Talk to him.

      KING HEROD

      What's the matter with yourself? Are you so full of booze that you can't wag your own tongue?

      FAT MONK

      You heretic! What a heretic! (Both monks laugh)

      KING HEROD (approaching)

      What gentleman?

      FAT MONK

      This one.

      KING HEROD (scrutinizing him)

      He doubts? Let him doubt. It's none of my business.

      SAVVA

      Oh!

      KING HEROD

      Why, what did you think?

      FAT MONK

      Sit down, please.

      KING HEROD

      Never mind. I'd rather stand.

      FAT MONK (to Savva, in a loud whisper)

      He is doing that to wear himself out. Until he has reduced himself to absolute faintness he'll neither sleep nor eat. (Aloud) This gentleman is wondering at the kind of chains you have on your body.

      KING HEROD

      Chains? Just baby rattles. Put them on a horse and he too would carry them if he had the strength. I have a sad heart. (Looks at Savva) You know, I killed my own son. Yes, I did. Have they been telling you about me, these chatterboxes?

      SAVVA

      They have.

      KING HEROD

      Can you understand it?

      SAVVA

      Why not? Yes, I can.

      KING HEROD

      You lie—you can't. No one can understand it. Go through the whole world, search round the whole globe, ask everybody—no one will be able to tell you, no one will understand. And if anyone says he does, take it from me that he lies, lies just as you do. Why, you can't even see your own nose properly, yet you have the brazenness to say you understand. Go. You are a foolish boy, that's what you are.

      SAVVA

      And you are wise?

      KING HEROD

      I am wise. My sorrow has made me so. It is a great sorrow. There is none greater on earth. I killed my son with my own hand. Not the hand you are looking at, but the one which isn't here.

      SAVVA

      Where is it?

      KING HEROD

      I burnt it. I held it in the stove and let it burn up to my elbow.

      SAVVA

      Did that relieve you?

      KING HEROD

      No. Fire cannot destroy my grief. It burns with a heat that is greater than fire.

      SAVVA

      Fire, brother, destroys everything.

      KING HEROD

      No, young man, fire is weak. Spit on it and it is quenched.

      SAVVA

      What fire? It is possible to kindle such a conflagration that an ocean of water will not quench it.

      KING HEROD

      No, boy. Every fire goes out when its time comes. My grief is great, so great that when I look around me I say to myself: Good heavens, what has become СКАЧАТЬ