The Complete Works of Leo Tolstoy (25+ Works with active table of contents)

by Leo Tolstoy

  CHIEF. What?... What?... What are you mumbling there? Just blow your nose, and then speak sensibly! One can't make head or tail of what you're saying.

  PEASANTS' IMP. Why, there was a peasant ploughing; and I knew he had brought only a chunk of bread with him, and had nothing else to eat. I stole his crust. By rights he should have sworn; but what does he do? He says, "Let him who has taken it eat it, and may it do him good!" I've brought the chunk of bread away with me. Here it is!

  CHIEF. Well, and what of the others?

  PEASANTS' IMP. They're all alike. I could not manage to take a single one.

  CHIEF. How dare you appear before me with empty hands? And as if that were not enough, you must needs bring some stinking crust or other here! Do you mean to mock me? Do you mean to live in Hell and eat the bread of idleness? The others do their best, and work hard! Why, they [points to the Imps] have each supplied 10,000 or 20,000, or even 200,000. And you come with empty hands, and bring a miserable crust, and begin spinning your yarns. You chatter, but don't work; and that's why you've lost hold of them. But wait a bit, my friend, I'll teach you a thing or two!

  PEASANTS' IMP. Before you punish me, listen to what I'll tell you. It's all very well for those other Devils, who have to do with gentlefolk, with merchants, or with women. It's all plain sailing for them! Show a nobleman a coronet, or a fine estate, and you've got him, and may lead him where you like. It's the same with a tradesman. Show him some money and stir up his covetousness, and you may lead him as with a halter. And with the women it's also plain sailing. Give them finery and sweets--and you may do what you like with them. But as to the peasants--there's a long row to hoe with them! When he's at work from morn till night--sometimes even far into the night--and never starts without a thought of God, how's one to get at him? Master, remove me from these peasants! I'm tired to death of them, and have angered you into the bargain!

  CHIEF. You're humbugging, you idler! It's no use your talking about the others. They've got hold of the merchants, the nobles, and the women, because they knew how to treat them, and invented new traps for them! The official one there--he has made quite a new departure. You must think of something too! You've stolen a crust, and brag about it! What a clever thing to do! Surround them with snares, and they'll get caught in one or other of them. But loafing about as you do, and leaving the way open for them, those peasants of yours have gained strength. They begin not to care about their last crust. If they take to such ways, and teach their women the same, they'll get quite beyond us! Invent something! Get out of the hole as best you can.

  PEASANTS' IMP. I can't think how to set about it. Let me off! I can stand it no longer!

  CHIEF [angrily] Can't stand it! What do you think, then? Am I to do your work for you?

  PEASANTS' IMP. I can't!

  CHIEF. Can't? Wait a bit! Hollo, there! bring the switches; give him a thrashing.

  The Sentinels seize the Imp and whip him.

  PEASANTS' IMP. Oh! Oh! Oh!...

  CHIEF. Have you thought of something?

  PEASANTS' IMP. Oh, oh, I can't!

  CHIEF. Give him some more. [They whip] Well--thought of something?

  PEASANTS' IMP. Yes--yes, I have!

  CHIEF. Well, tell us what it is.

  PEASANTS' IMP. I've invented a dodge that will bring them all into my grasp, if you'll only let me take a labourer's place with that peasant. But I can't explain what it is beforehand.

  CHIEF. All right. Only remember, that if you don't atone for that crust within three years, I'll flay you alive!

  PEASANTS' IMP. They'll all be mine in three years' time.

  CHIEF. All right. When the three years are past, I shall come and see for myself!

  Curtain.

  ACT III

  A barn. Carts loaded with grain. The Imp as a Labourer. He is shovelling grain off the cart, and the Peasant is carrying it away in a measure.

  LABOURER. Seven!

  PEASANT. How many quarters?

  LABOURER [looks at the numbers marked on the barn door] Twenty-six quarters. And this is the seventh bushel of the twenty-seventh quarter.

  PEASANT. It won't all go in; the barn is nearly full!

  LABOURER. Shovel it nice and even.

  PEASANT. So I will.

  Exit with measure.

  LABOURER [alone, takes off his cap, his horns appear] It will be some time before he returns. I'll ease my horns a bit. [Horns rise] And I'll take my boots off too; I can't do it when he's here. [Takes his boots off, his hoofs appear. Sits on the threshold] It's the third year now. It's near the time of reckoning. There's more corn than there's room for. Only one more thing left to teach him, and then let the Chief come and see for himself. I'll have something worth showing him! He'll forgive me for that crust!

  Neighbour approaches. Labourer hides his horns and hoofs.

  NEIGHBOUR. Good day to you.

  LABOURER. The same to you.

  NEIGHBOUR. Where's your master?

  LABOURER. He's gone to spread the grain more even; it won't all go in.

  NEIGHBOUR. Dear me, what a run of luck your master is having! More than he has room for? We're all amazed at the harvests your master has had these two years. It's as if some one had told him what was coming. Last year was a dry season, and he had sown in the bog. Others had no harvest, but your threshing ground was covered with sheaves! This year we've a rainy summer, and he's been sharp enough to sow on the hill. Everybody's corn has rotted, but you have a splendid harvest. What grain! Ah, what grain!

  Takes some grain, weighs it in his hand, and chews it.

  PEASANT [enters with empty measure] How d'ye do, neighbour?

  NEIGHBOUR. Good day. I was saying to your man here, how well you managed to guess where to sow your corn. Every one envies you. What heaps, what heaps of corn you have got! You'll not eat it all in ten years.

  PEASANT. It's all thanks to Nicholas here. [Points to Labourer] It was his luck. Last year I sent him to plough, and what did he do but plough in the bog. I gave him a scolding, but he persuaded me to sow there. And so I did, and it turned out all for the best! And this year he again guessed right, and sowed on the hill!

  NEIGHBOUR. It's as if he knew what kind of season it would be. Yes, you have got corn enough and no mistake! [Silence] And I have come to ask you to lend me a sack of rye. Ours is all used up. I'll return it next year.

  PEASANT. All right, you may have it.

  LABOURER [nudging the Peasant] Don't give it!

  PEASANT. No more words about it. Take it.

  NEIGHBOUR. Thank you. I'll just run and fetch a sack.

  LABOURER [aside] He keeps to his old ways ... still goes on giving. He doesn't always obey me. But just wait a bit. He'll soon stop giving away.

  Exit Neighbour.

  PEASANT [sitting down on the threshold] Why should one not give to a good man?

  LABOURER. Giving is one thing, getting back another! You know--

  "It's a good world to lend in, a good world to spend in, But to get back one's own, it's the worst world that's known."

  That's what the old folk say.

  PEASANT. Don't worry. We've plenty of corn.

  LABOURER. Well, what of that?

  PEASANT. We've enough, not only till next harvest but for two years ahead. What are we to do with it all?

  LABOURER. What are we to do with it? I could make such stuff of this corn as would make you rejoice all the days of your life.

  PEASANT. Why, what would you make of it?

  LABOURER. A kind of drink. Drink, that would give you strength when you are weak, satisfy you when you are hungry, give you sleep when you are restless, make you merry when you're sad, give you courage when you're afraid. That's the drink I'd make!

  PEASANT. Rubbish!

  LABOURER. Rubbish indeed! It was just the same when I told you to sow in the bog, and then on the hill. You did not believe me then, but now you know! You'll find out about the drink the same way.

  PEASANT. But what
will you make it of?

  LABOURER. Why, of this same corn.

  PEASANT. But won't that be a sin?

  LABOURER. Just hear him! Why should it be a sin? Everything is given for a joy to man.

  PEASANT. And where did you get all your wisdom from, Nick? You seem a very ordinary man to look at, and hard-working too. Why, I don't remember you so much as ever taking your boots off all these two years you've been with me. And yet you seem to know everything. Where did you learn it?

  LABOURER. I've been about a good deal!

  PEASANT. And so you say this drink will give one strength?

  LABOURER. Just wait till you try it and see the good that comes of it.

  PEASANT. And how are we to make it?

  LABOURER. It's not hard to make when you know how! Only we shall want a copper and a couple of iron vessels.

  PEASANT. And does it taste nice?

  LABOURER. As sweet as honey. When once you've tasted it you'll never give it up.

  PEASANT. Is that so? Well, I'll go to the neighbour's; he used to have a copper. We'll have a try!

  Curtain.

  ACT IV

  A barn. In the middle a closed copper on the fire, with another vessel, under which is a tap.

  LABOURER [holds a tumbler under the tap and drinks the spirit] Well, master, it's ready now.

  PEASANT [sitting on his heels and looking on] What a queer thing. Here's water coming out of the mixture. Why are you letting this water off first?

  LABOURER. It's not water. It is the very stuff itself!

  PEASANT. Why is it so clear? I thought it would be yellow like grain. This is just like water.

  LABOURER. But you just smell it!

  PEASANT. Ah, what a scent! Well, well, let's see what it's like in the mouth. Let me taste! [Tries to take the tumbler out of the Labourer's hand].

  LABOURER. Mind, you'll spill it! [Turns the tap off, drinks and smacks his lips] It's ready! Here you are. Drink it!

  PEASANT [drinks, first sipping, then taking more and more, till he empties the glass and gives it back] Now then, some more. One can't tell the taste from such a drop.

  LABOURER [laughing] Well, you seem to like it! [Draws some more].

  PEASANT [drinks] Eh, that's the sort! Let's call the missis. Hey, Martha! Come along! It's ready! Come on there!

  Enter Wife and little girl.

  WIFE. What's the matter? Why are you kicking up such a row?

  PEASANT. You just taste what we've been distilling. [Hands her the glass] Smell! What does it smell of?

  WIFE [smells] Dear me!

  PEASANT. Drink!

  WIFE. But perhaps it may do one some harm?

  PEASANT. Drink, fool!

  WIFE. True. It is nice!

  PEASANT [a little tipsy] Nice indeed! You wait and see what'll happen. Nick says it drives all weariness out of one's bones. The young grow old. I mean, the old grow young. There now, I've only had two glasses of it, and all my bones have got easy. [Swaggers] You see? Wait a bit, when you and I drink it every day we'll grow young again! Come, Martha! [Embraces her].

  WIFE. Get along. Why, it's made you quite silly.

  PEASANT. There, you see! You said Nick and I were wasting the corn, but just see what stuff we've concocted. Eh? It's good, ain't it?

  WIFE. Of course, it's good if it makes the old young again. Just see how jolly it has made you! And I feel jolly too! Now then, join in! Ah ... Ah ... Ah ... [Sings].

  PEASANT. Yes, that's the way! We'll all be young, all young.

  WIFE. We must call mother-in-law, for she's always sad and grumbling. She needs renewing. When she's younger she'll get kinder.

  PEASANT [tipsy] Yes, call mother. Call her here, and grandfather too. I say, Mary, run and call your granny and great-grandfather. Tell him he must get down from the oven! We'll make him young again. Now then, quick! One, two, three, and away! Off like a shot! [Girl runs off. To Wife] We'll have another glass.

  Labourer fills and hands the glasses.

  PEASANT [drinks] At first we got young at the top, in the tongue; then it went down into the arms. Now it has reached the feet. I feel my feet getting younger. They're moving of themselves. [Starts dancing].

  WIFE [drinks] You're a real clever 'un, Nick! Now then, strike up!

  Labourer takes a balaláyka[1] and plays. Peasant and Wife dance.

  [1] The balaláyka is an instrument (generally three-stringed) used by Russian peasants, and answering to the negroes' banjo.

  LABOURER [plays in the foreground of the scene, laughing and winking as he watches them. Then he leaves off playing, but they still continue to dance] You'll pay for that crust! You've done it now, my fine fellows. They'll never get out of it. The Chief can come when he likes now!

  Enter a fresh-looking elderly woman, and a very old white-haired man, the Peasant's Grandfather.

  GRANDFATHER. What's the matter? Have you gone mad? Dancing while every one else is at work!

  WIFE [dances and claps her hands] Oh--Oh--Oh-- [Sings]

  "That I'm sinning I will own, Free from sin is God alone!"

  OLD WOMAN. Oh, you wretch! The oven's not cleaned out yet, and here you are dancing!

  PEASANT. Wait a bit, mother. See what has been happening here. We can make old people young again! Here you are! Just drink this! [Passes tumbler].

  OLD WOMAN. There's plenty of water in the well. [Smells it] But what have you put in? My--what a smell!

  PEASANT. You just drink it.

  OLD WOMAN [tastes] Dear me! But won't one die of it?

  WIFE. It will make you more alive. You'll grow young again!

  OLD WOMAN. Nonsense! [Drinks] But it's nice! Better than our drinks. Here, father, have some too.

  Grandfather sits down and shakes his head.

  LABOURER. Never mind him. But granny must have another glass. [Hands some to the old woman].

  OLD WOMAN. If only no harm comes of it. Oh dear, it does burn! But it is nice.

  WIFE. Drink it! Then you'll feel it running through your veins.

  OLD WOMAN. Well, I suppose I'll have to try. [Drinks].

  WIFE. Has it reached your feet yet?

  OLD WOMAN. True enough, it does run through you. I feel it here now! And it really makes one feel quite light. Come--give me some more. [Drinks again] Fine! Now I'm quite young again.

  PEASANT. Didn't I tell you?

  OLD WOMAN. Ah, it's a pity my old man is no longer here. He might have seen once more what I was like in my young days.

  Labourer plays. Peasant and Wife dance.

  OLD WOMAN [comes into the middle] Do you call that dancing? Let me show you. [Dances] That's the way! Then like this, and like that! Do you see?

  Grandfather goes up to the vessel and lets the spirit run out on to the ground.

  PEASANT [notices and rushes at his Grandfather] What are you up to, you old fool? Spilling such fine stuff! Oh, you old dotard! [Pushes him away and holds tumbler under tap] You've emptied it all!

  GRANDFATHER. It's evil and not good! God has sent you a good harvest for you to feed yourself and others, but you have turned the corn into devils' drink. No good will come of it. Give up this business. Else you'll perish and ruin others! You think this is drink? It's fire, and will burn you up! [Takes a brand from the fire and lights the spilt spirit. The spirit burns. They all look on with horror].

  Curtain.

  ACT V

  Interior of hut. The Labourer alone, his horns and hoofs showing.

  LABOURER. There's lots of corn. More than there's room for, and he's now got a taste for it. We've been distilling again, and we've filled a barrel and hidden it away. We're not going to treat any one for nothing, but when we want to get something out of a fellow, then we'll treat him! So to-day I told him to invite the village elders and treat them, that they should divide up the property between him and his grandfather, and give everything to him and nothing to the old man! My three years are up to-day, and my work is finished. Let the Chief come and see for himself. I needn
't be ashamed of his seeing it!