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

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СКАЧАТЬ of course, the coachman and the chauffeur.

      —And they themselves do nothing at all. They are too fine.

      —You must admit, it is a great honor to have been invited to Man's ball.

      —Don't you find the music somewhat monotonous?

      —No, I don't, and I'm surprised you do. Don't you see what kind of musicians they are?

      —I should like to hear such music all my life. That's what I say.

       There's something, in that music that stirs me.

      —Me too.

      —Me too.

      —It is a delicious sensation to abandon oneself to dreams of happiness under the influence of this music!

      —To transport oneself in fancy to the astral spheres!

      —How fine!

      —How rich!

      —How magnificent!

       [These phrases are repeated.

      —I notice a stir at that door. Man and his Wife will soon pass through the hall.

      —The musicians are working away for dear life.

      —There they are!

      —They're coming! Look, they're coming!

      _[Man, his Wife, his Friends, and his Enemies appear in the door on the right, cross the room diagonally to the door on the left. The dancers go on dancing, but part to make way for them. The musicians play desperately loud and out of tune. Man has aged greatly. His long hair and long beard are beginning to turn gray. But his face is manly and handsome, and he walks with calm dignity and an air of coldness. He looks straight ahead of him, as if not noticing those around him. His Wife has also aged, but she is still beautiful and walks leaning on his arm. She too seems not to notice the people around her, but looks straight ahead, with a rather strange, almost fixed expression. Both are richly dressed.

      His Friends follow directly behind Man. They resemble one another very much—noble faces, high and candid foreheads, honest eyes. They walk proudly, throwing out their chests, stepping firmly and confidently, and looking, now to this side, now to that, with condescension and slight disdain. They wear white roses in their buttonholes.

      Following them at a slight distance come Man's Enemies, also very much resembling one another—mean, cunning faces; low, heavy foreheads; long, ape-like arms. They walk uneasily, pushing, bending, and hiding behind one another, and casting sharp, mean, envious, sidelong glances from beneath lowered lids. Yellow roses appear in their buttonholes. Thus they pass through the room, slowly and in perfect silence. The sounds of the steps, the music, and the exclamations of the Guests produce a sharply discordant noise._

      GUESTS' CONVERSATION

      —There they are. There they are. What an honor!

      —How handsome he is!

      —What a manly face!

      —Look! Look!

      —He isn't looking at us!

      —He doesn't see us!

      —We are his guests!

      —What an honor! What an honor!

      —And his wife! Look! Look!

      —How beautiful she is!

      —How proud!

      —I tell you, just look at her diamonds!

      —Her pearls! Her pearls!

      —And her rubies!

      —How rich! What an honor!

      —Honor! Honor! Honor!

       [The same phrases are repeated again.

      —Here are Man's Friends!

      —Look, look, there are Man's Friends.

      —Noble faces!

      —Proud gait!

      —They shine with the reflected splendor of his fame.

      —How they love him!

      —How faithful they are to him!

      —What an honor to be one of Man's Friends!

      —They regard everything here as their own!

      —They're at home here!

      —What an honor!

      —Honor! Honor! Honor!

       [Same phrases are repeated.

      —And there are Man's Enemies!

      —Look, look, Man's Enemies!

      —They walk like whipped curs!

      —Man has subdued them!

      —He's put a muzzle on them!

      —They're wagging their tails!

      —They're sneaking behind one another.

      —They're pushing one another.

      —Ha-ha! Ha-ha!

       [Everybody laughs.

      —What mean faces!

      —What greedy looks!

      —Cowardly!

      —Malevolent!

      —They're afraid to look at us!

      —They feel we're at home!

      —Let's frighten them.

      —Man'll be thankful to us for it.

      —Ho-ho!

       [They shout at Man's Enemies, mingling their shouts with laughter. The Enemies huddle closer together and cast sharp, timid, sideward glances.

      —They're going! They're going!

      —What an honor!

      —They're going!

      —Ho-ho! Ha-ha!

      —They're СКАЧАТЬ