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

by Leo Tolstoy

  EXAMINING MAGISTRATE. I shall have you turned out!

  FÉDYA. I'm not afraid of anyone, because I'm a corpse and you can't do me any harm. No position could be worse than mine! So turn me out!

  KARÉNIN. May we go?

  EXAMINING MAGISTRATE. Immediately, but first sign your deposition.

  FÉDYA. You'd be quite comic, if you weren't so vile!

  EXAMINING MAGISTRATE. Take him away! I arrest you.

  FÉDYA [to Lisa and Karénin] Forgive me!

  KARÉNIN [approaches and holds out his hand] It had to happen!

  Lisa passes by. Fédya bows low to her.

  Curtain.

  SCENE 2

  A corridor of the Law Courts. In the background a door with glass panels, beside which stands an usher. Further to the right another door through which the accused are led.

  Iván Petróvich Alexándrov comes to the first door and wishes to enter.

  USHER. Where are you going? You mustn't! Shoving in like that!

  IVÁN PETRÓVICH. Why mustn't I? The law says the proceedings are public. [Applause is heard from inside the Court].

  USHER. Anyhow, you mustn't, and that's all about it.

  IVÁN PETRÓVICH. Ignorant fellow! You don't know whom you are speaking to!

  A Young Lawyer in a dress-suit enters from the Court.

  YOUNG LAWYER. Are you concerned in this case?

  IVÁN PETRÓVICH. No, I am the public, and this ignoramus--this Cerberus--won't let me in!

  YOUNG LAWYER. But this door is not for the public.

  IVÁN PETRÓVICH. I know, but I am a man who should be admitted.

  YOUNG LAWYER. Wait a bit--they'll adjourn in a minute. [Is just going, when he meets Prince Abrézkov].

  PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. May I ask how the case stands?

  YOUNG LAWYER. The Counsel are speaking--Petrúshin is addressing the Court.

  Applause from within.

  PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. And how do the defendants bear their position?

  YOUNG LAWYER. With great dignity, especially Karénin and Elisabeth Andréyevna. It is as if not they were being indicted, but they were indicting society! That's what is felt, and on that Petrúshin is working.

  PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. Well, and Protásov?

  YOUNG LAWYER. He is terribly excited. He trembles all over; but that is natural, considering the life he leads. He is particularly irritable, and interrupted the Public Prosecutor and Counsel several times ...

  PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. What do you think the result will be?

  YOUNG LAWYER. It is hard to say. In any case they won't be found guilty of premeditation; but still ... [A gentleman comes out, and Prince Abrézkov moves towards the door] You wish to go in?

  PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. I should like to.

  YOUNG LAWYER. You are Prince Abrézkov?

  PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. I am.

  YOUNG LAWYER [to Usher] Let this gentleman pass. There is an empty chair just to the left.

  Usher lets Prince Abrézkov pass. As the door opens, Counsel is seen speaking.

  IVÁN PETRÓVICH. Aristocrats! I am an aristocrat of the soul, and that is higher!

  YOUNG LAWYER. Well, excuse me ... [Exit].

  Petushkóv enters hurriedly, and approaches Iván Petróvich.

  PETUSHKÓV. Ah, how are you, Iván Petróvich? How are things going?

  IVÁN PETRÓVICH. Counsel are still speaking, but this fellow won't let me in.

  USHER. Don't make a noise here! This is not a public-house!

  Applause. The doors open. Lawyers, and the public--men and women--come out.

  A LADY. Splendid! He really moved me to tears.

  OFFICER. It's better than any novel. Only I don't understand how she could love him so. Dreadful object!

  The other door opens. The accused come out: first Lisa, then Karénin. They pass along the corridor. Fédya follows alone.

  LADY. Hush--here he is! Look how excited he seems!

  Lady and Officer pass on.

  FÉDYA [approaches Iván Petróvich] Have you brought it?

  IVÁN PETRÓVICH. Here it is. [Hands Fédya something].

  FÉDYA [Hides it in his pocket, and wishes to pass out, but sees Petushkóv] Stupid! Vile! Dreary, dreary! Senseless. [Wishes to pass].

  Enter Counsel Petrúshin; stout, red, and animated. He approaches Fédya.

  PETRÚSHIN. Well, friend! Our affairs are going well--only don't you go and spoil things for me in your last speech!

  FÉDYA. I won't speak. What is the use? I shan't do it.

  PETRÚSHIN. Yes, you must speak. But don't be excited. The whole matter is now in a nutshell! Only tell them what you told me--that if you are being tried, it is only for not having committed suicide: that is, for not doing what is considered a crime both by civil and ecclesiastical law.

  FÉDYA. I shan't say anything!

  PETRÚSHIN. Why not?

  FÉDYA. I don't want to, and shan't. Tell me only, at the worst, what will it be?

  PETRÚSHIN. I have already told you--at worst, exile to Siberia.

  FÉDYA. Who will be exiled?

  PETRÚSHIN. You and your wife.

  FÉDYA. And at best?

  PETRÚSHIN. Church penance, and of course annulment of the second marriage.

  FÉDYA. Then they will again tie me to her--or rather, her to me?

  PETRÚSHIN. Yes, that must be so. But don't excite yourself, and please say what I told you, and above all, don't say anything superfluous. However [noticing that a circle of listeners has formed round them] I am tired, and will go and sit down; and you'd better take a rest. The chief thing is, not to lose courage!

  FÉDYA. No other sentence is possible?

  PETRÚSHIN [going] No other.

  Enter Attendant.

  ATTENDANT. Pass on! Pass on! No loitering in the corridor!

  FÉDYA. Directly! [Takes out revolver and shoots himself in the heart. Falls. All rush on him] All right, I think it is done.... Lisa!...

  The audience, judges, accused, and witnesses rush out from all the doors.

  In front of all is Lisa. Behind her Másha, Karénin, Iván Petróvich and Prince Abrézkov.

  LISA. Fédya, what have you done! Why?

  FÉDYA. Forgive me that I could not ... free you any other way.... It's not for you ... it's best for me. I have long ... been ready ...

  LISA. You will live!

  A Doctor bends over Fédya and listens.

  FÉDYA. I need no doctor to tell me ... Good-bye, Victor ... Ah, Másha!... it's too late this time ... [Weeps] How good ... how good! [Dies].

  Curtain.

  Master and Man

  I

  It happened in the 'seventies in winter, on the day after St. Nicholas's Day. There was a fete in the parish and the innkeeper, Vasili Andreevich Brekhunov, a Second Guild merchant, being a church elder had to go to church, and had also to entertain his relatives and friends at home.

  But when the last of them had gone he at once began to prepare to drive over to see a neighbouring proprietor about a grove which he had been bargaining over for a long time. He was now in a hurry to start, lest buyers from the town might forestall him in making a profitable purchase.

  The youthful landowner was asking ten thousand rubles for the grove simply because Vasili Andreevich was offering seven thousand. Seven thousand was, however, only a third of its real value. Vasili Andreevich might perhaps have got it down to his own price, for the woods were in his district and he had a long-standing agreement with the other village dealers that no one should run up the price in another's district, but he had now learnt that some timber-dealers from town meant to bid for the Goryachkin grove, and he resolved to go at once and get the matter settled. So as soon as the feast was over, he took seven hundred rubles from his strong box, added to them two thousand three hundred rubles of church money he had in his keeping, so as to make up the sum to three thousand; carefully counted the notes, and having put them into his pocket-book made haste to start.

  Nikita, the only one of Vasi
li Andreevich's labourers who was not drunk that day, ran to harness the horse. Nikita, though an habitual drunkard, was not drunk that day because since the last day before the fast, when he had drunk his coat and leather boots, he had sworn off drink and had kept his vow for two months, and was still keeping it despite the temptation of the vodka that had been drunk everywhere during the first two days of the feast.

  Nikita was a peasant of about fifty from a neighbouring village, 'not a manager' as the peasants said of him, meaning that he was not the thrifty head of a household but lived most of his time away from home as a labourer. He was valued everywhere for his industry, dexterity, and strength at work, and still more for his kindly and pleasant temper. But he never settled down anywhere for long because about twice a year, or even oftener, he had a drinking bout, and then besides spending all his clothes on drink he became turbulent and quarrelsome. Vasili Andreevich himself had turned him away several times, but had afterwards taken him back again--valuing his honesty, his kindness to animals, and especially his cheapness. Vasili Andreevich did not pay Nikita the eighty rubles a year such a man was worth, but only about forty, which he gave him haphazard, in small sums, and even that mostly not in cash but in goods from his own shop and at high prices.

  Nikita's wife Martha, who had once been a handsome vigorous woman, managed the homestead with the help of her son and two daughters, and did not urge Nikita to live at home: first because she had been living for some twenty years already with a cooper, a peasant from another village who lodged in their house; and secondly because though she managed her husband as she pleased when he was sober, she feared him like fire when he was drunk. Once when he had got drunk at home, Nikita, probably to make up for his submissiveness when sober, broke open her box, took out her best clothes, snatched up an axe, and chopped all her undergarments and dresses to bits. All the wages Nikita earned went to his wife, and he raised no objection to that. So now, two days before the holiday, Martha had been twice to see Vasili Andreevich and had got from him wheat flour, tea, sugar, and a quart of vodka, the lot costing three rubles, and also five rubles in cash, for which she thanked him as for a special favour, though he owed Nikita at least twenty rubles.

  'What agreement did we ever draw up with you?' said Vasili Andreevich to Nikita. 'If you need anything, take it; you will work it off. I'm not like others to keep you waiting, and making up accounts and reckoning fines. We deal straight-forwardly. You serve me and I don't neglect you.'

  And when saying this Vasili Andreevich was honestly convinced that he was Nikita's benefactor, and he knew how to put it so plausibly that all those who depended on him for their money, beginning with Nikita, confirmed him in the conviction that he was their benefactor and did not overreach them.

  'Yes, I understand, Vasili Andreevich. You know that I serve you and take as much pains as I would for my own father. I understand very well!' Nikita would reply. He was quite aware that Vasili Andreevich was cheating him, but at the same time he felt that it was useless to try to clear up his accounts with him or explain his side of the matter, and that as long as he had nowhere to go he must accept what he could get.

  Now, having heard his master's order to harness, he went as usual cheerfully and willingly to the shed, stepping briskly and easily on his rather turned-in feet; took down from a nail the heavy tasselled leather bridle, and jingling the rings of the bit went to the closed stable where the horse he was to harness was standing by himself.

  'What, feeling lonely, feeling lonely, little silly?' said Nikita in answer to the low whinny with which he was greeted by the good-tempered, medium-sized bay stallion, with a rather slanting crupper, who stood alone in the shed. 'Now then, now then, there's time enough. Let me water you first,' he went on, speaking to the horse just as to someone who understood the words he was using, and having whisked the dusty, grooved back of the well-fed young stallion with the skirt of his coat, he put a bridle on his handsome head, straightened his ears and forelock, and having taken off his halter led him out to water.

  Picking his way out of the dung-strewn stable, Mukhorty frisked, and making play with his hind leg pretended that he meant to kick Nikita, who was running at a trot beside him to the pump.

  'Now then, now then, you rascal!' Nikita called out, well knowing how carefully Mukhorty threw out his hind leg just to touch his greasy sheepskin coat but not to strike him--a trick Nikita much appreciated.

  After a drink of the cold water the horse sighed, moving his strong wet lips, from the hairs of which transparent drops fell into the trough; then standing still as if in thought, he suddenly gave a loud snort.

  'If you don't want any more, you needn't. But don't go asking for any later,' said Nikita quite seriously and fully explaining his conduct to Mukhorty. Then he ran back to the shed pulling the playful young horse, who wanted to gambol all over the yard, by the rein.

  There was no one else in the yard except a stranger, the cook's husband, who had come for the holiday.

  'Go and ask which sledge is to be harnessed--the wide one or the small one--there's a good fellow!'

  The cook's husband went into the house, which stood on an iron foundation and was iron-roofed, and soon returned saying that the little one was to be harnessed. By that time Nikita had put the collar and brass-studded belly-band on Mukhorty and, carrying a light, painted shaft-bow in one hand, was leading the horse with the other up to two sledges that stood in the shed.

  'All right, let it be the little one!' he said, backing the intelligent horse, which all the time kept pretending to bite him, into the shafts, and with the aid of the cook's husband he proceeded to harness. When everything was nearly ready and only the reins had to be adjusted, Nikita sent the other man to the shed for some straw and to the barn for a drugget.

  'There, that's all right! Now, now, don't bristle up!' said Nikita, pressing down into the sledge the freshly threshed oat straw the cook's husband had brought. 'And now let's spread the sacking like this, and the drugget over it. There, like that it will be comfortable sitting,' he went on, suiting the action to the words and tucking the drugget all round over the straw to make a seat.

  'Thank you, dear man. Things always go quicker with two working at it!' he added. And gathering up the leather reins fastened together by a brass ring, Nikita took the driver's seat and started the impatient horse over the frozen manure which lay in the yard, towards the gate.

  'Uncle Nikita! I say, Uncle, Uncle!' a high-pitched voice shouted, and a seven-year-old boy in a black sheepskin coat, new white felt boots, and a warm cap, ran hurriedly out of the house into the yard. 'Take me with you!' he cried, fastening up his coat as he ran.

  'All right, come along, darling!' said Nikita, and stopping the sledge he picked up the master's pale thin little son, radiant with joy, and drove out into the road.

  It was past two o'clock and the day was windy, dull, and cold, with more than twenty degrees Fahrenheit of frost. Half the sky was hidden by a lowering dark cloud. In the yard it was quiet, but in the street the wind was felt more keenly. The snow swept down from a neighbouring shed and whirled about in the corner near the bath-house.

  Hardly had Nikita driven out of the yard and turned the horse's head to the house, before Vasili Andreevich emerged from the high porch in front of the house with a cigarette in his mouth and wearing a cloth-covered sheep-skin coat tightly girdled low at his waist, and stepped onto the hard-trodden snow which squeaked under the leather soles of his felt boots, and stopped. Taking a last whiff of his cigarette he threw it down, stepped on it, and letting the smoke escape through his moustache and looking askance at the horse that was coming up, began to tuck in his sheepskin collar on both sides of his ruddy face, clean-shaven except for the moustache, so that his breath should not moisten the collar.

  'See now! The young scamp is there already!' he exclaimed when he saw his little son in the sledge. Vasili Andreevich was excited by the vodka he had drunk with his visitors, and so he was even more pleased than usu
al with everything that was his and all that he did. The sight of his son, whom he always thought of as his heir, now gave him great satisfaction. He looked at him, screwing up his eyes and showing his long teeth.