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

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СКАЧАТЬ contrast to the piercing notes of the music, their dancing is smooth, noiseless, light. At the first musical phrase, they circle around; at the second, they gracefully part and join again. There is a slight mannerism in their dancing.

      Along the walls, on the gilded chairs, sit the Guests, stiff and constrained. They scarcely venture to move their heads. Their conversation is also constrained. They do not whisper to one another; they do not laugh, and they scarcely look at one another. They speak abruptly, as if chopping out the words of a text. Their hands hanging superciliously over their laps make their arms look as if they had been broken at the wrists. The monotony of their faces is strongly emphasized. Every face bears the same expression of self-satisfaction, haughtiness, and inane respect for the wealth of Man.

      The dancing girls are all in white, the men in black. Some of the

       Guests wear black, white, and brightly yellow? flowers.

      In the near corner, which is darker than the rest, Someone in Gray called He stands motionless. The candle in his hand is reduced two-thirds and burns with a strong, yellow light, casting a yellow sheen on His stony face and chin.

      THE GUESTS' CONVERSATION

      —It is a very great honor to be a guest at Man's ball.

      —You may add, it is an honor of which very few have been deemed worthy. The whole city tried to get themselves invited, but only a very few succeeded. My husband, my children, and I are quite proud of the honor Man has showed us.

      —I am really sorry for those who were not able to get here. They won't sleep the whole night from sheer envy, and to-morrow they'll say nasty things about the ball and call it a bore.

      —They never saw such magnificence.

      —Or such wonderful wealth and luxury.

      —Or, I dare say, such charming, free and easy gayety.

      —If this isn't gay, I should like to know what is.

      —Oh, what's the use of talking? You can't convince people consumed by jealousy. They'll tell us we didn't sit on gilded chairs, absolutely not.

      —They'll say that the chairs were of the commonest sort, bought at second hand.

      —That the illumination was not by electricity, but just by tallow candles.

      —Say candle stumps.

      —Or dirty lamps.

      —They'll have the impudence to maintain that the mouldings in Man's house are not gilded.

      —And that the broad picture frames are not made of gold. It seems to me I can hear the very ring of it.

      —You can see its glitter. That's quite sufficient, I should think.

      —I have rarely had the pleasure of hearing such music.

      —It is divine harmony. It transports the soul to higher spheres.

      —I should think the music good enough, considering the money paid for it. It is the best trio in the city. They play on the most important and solemn occasions.

      —If you listen awhile, it compels your absolute attention. After a ball at Man's, my children keep singing the tune a long time.

      —I sometimes think I hear it in the street. I look around—no musicians, no music.

      —What I like especially in these musicians is the great effort they make when they play. They know the price they're paid and don't want to get the money for nothing. That's very decent of them.

      —It seems as if they became a part of their instruments, their efforts are so great.

      —Or as if the instruments became part of them.

      —How rich!

      —How magnificent!

      —How brilliant!

      —How rich!

       [For some time the two expressions, "How rich! How magnificent!" are repeated from different parts of the room, uttered abruptly, like a bark.

      —Beside this ballroom there are fourteen other magnificent rooms in Man's house. I have seen them all. The dining-room has such a huge fireplace that you can put a whole log into it. There are magnificent guest-rooms and a beautiful boudoir. A large bedroom, and over the pillows on the beds—just fancy!—canopies!

      —Why, how wonderful! Canopies!

      —Did you hear? Canopies!

      —Permit me to continue. For their son, the little boy, they have a beautiful bright room of golden yellow wood. It looks as if the sun were shining into it all the time.

      —He is such a fine boy. He has curly hair that looks like the rays of the sun.

      —That's true. When you look at him you wonder whether the sun has risen.

      —And when you look at his eyes you think: "Autumn is, gone, and the blue sky is here again."

      —Man loves his son madly. He bought him a pony for horseback riding, a nice snow-white pony. My children—

      —Pray, let me continue. Have I told you yet about the swimming-pool?

      —No. No.

      —A swimming-pool, a perfect marvel.

      —What, a swimming-pool!

      —Yes. And further on is Man's study, full of books, books, books.

       They say he's a very learned man.

      —You can see it by the books.

      —I have seen his garden.

      —I haven't.

      —It was entrancing, I must say. Imagine an emerald-green lawn kept beautifully mowed and trimmed at the edges. In the middle a path of fine red sand.

      —Flowers—even palms.

      —Yes, even palms. And all the trees trimmed as carefully and precisely as the lawn, some cut in the shape of pyramids, others in the shape of green columns. There's a lovely fountain and little plaster elves and deer scattered all around in the grass.

      —How rich!

      —How magnificent!

      —How brilliant!

      —How rich!

      —Man did me the honor of showing me his stables and barns. I had to tell him how much I admired his horses and carriages. I was particularly impressed by his motor car.

      —Think of it, he has seven servants; seven—a chef, a woman-cook, two maids, gardeners—

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