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

by Leo Tolstoy

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. And you saw it yourself?

  GREGORY. With my own eyes. Shall I call her? She'll not deny it.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Yes, call her.

  [Exit GREGORY.

  [Noise behind the scenes. The voice of the DOORKEEPER, "No, no, you cannot." DOORKEEPER is seen at the front door, the three PEASANTS rush in past him, the SECOND PEASANT first; the THIRD one stumbles, falls on his nose, and catches hold of it.

  DOORKEEPER. You must not go in!

  SECOND PEASANT. Where's the harm? We are not doing anything wrong. We only wish to pay the money!

  FIRST PEASANT. That's just it; as by laying on the signature the affair is come to a conclusion, we only wish to make payment with thanks.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Wait a bit with your thanks. It was all done by fraud! It is not settled yet. Not sold yet.... Leoníd.... Call Leoníd Fyódoritch.

  [Exit DOORKEEPER.

  [LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH enters, but, seeing his wife and the PEASANTS, wishes to retreat.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. No, no, come here, please! I told you the land must not be sold on credit, and everybody told you so, but you let yourself be deceived like the veriest blockhead.

  LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. How? I don't understand who is deceiving?

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! You have grey hair, and you let yourself be deceived and laughed at like a silly boy. You grudge your son some three hundred roubles which his social position demands, and let yourself be tricked of thousands--like a fool!

  LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Now come, Annette, try to be calm.

  FIRST PEASANT. We are only come about the acceptation of the sum, for example....

  THIRD PEASANT (taking out the money). Let us finish the matter, for Christ's sake!

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Wait, wait!

  [Enter TÁNYA and GREGORY.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA (angrily). You were in the small drawing-room during the séance last night?

  [TÁNYA looks around at THEODORE IVÁNITCH, LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH, and SIMON, and sighs.

  GREGORY. It's no use beating about the bush; I saw you myself....

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Tell me, were you there? I know all about it, so you'd better confess! I'll not do anything to you. I only want to expose him (pointing to LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH) your master.... Did you throw the paper on the table?

  TÁNYA. I don't know how to answer. Only one thing,--let me go home.

  [Enter BETSY unobserved.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA (to LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH). There, you see! You are being made a fool of.

  TÁNYA. Let me go home, Anna Pávlovna!

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. No, my dear! You may have caused us a loss of thousands of roubles. Land has been sold that ought not to be sold!

  TÁNYA. Let me go, Anna Pávlovna!

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. No; you'll have to answer for it! Such tricks won't do. We'll have you up before the Justice of the Peace!

  BETSY (comes forward). Let her go, mamma. Or, if you wish to have her tried, you must have me tried too! She and I did it together.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Well, of course, if you have a hand in anything, what can one expect but the very worst results!

  [Enter the PROFESSOR.

  PROFESSOR. How do you do, Anna Pávlovna? How do you do, Miss Betsy? Leoníd Fyódoritch, I have brought you a report of the Thirteenth Congress of Spiritualists at Chicago. An amazing speech by Schmidt!

  LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Oh, that is interesting!

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I will tell you something much more interesting! It turns out that both you and my husband were fooled by this girl! Betsy takes it on herself, but that is only to annoy me. It was an illiterate peasant girl who fooled you, and you believed it all. There were no mediumistic phenomena last night; it was she (pointing to TÁNYA) who did it!

  PROFESSOR (taking off his overcoat). What do you mean?

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I mean that it was she who, in the dark, played on the guitar and beat my husband on the head and performed all your idiotic tricks--and she has just confessed!

  PROFESSOR (smiling). What does that prove?

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. It proves that your mediumism is--tomfoolery; that's what it proves!

  PROFESSOR. Because this young girl wished to deceive, we are to conclude that mediumism is "tomfoolery," as you are pleased to express it? (Smiles.) A curious conclusion! Very possibly this young girl may have wished to deceive: that often occurs. She may even have done something; but then, what she did--she did. But the manifestations of mediumistic energy still remain manifestations of mediumistic energy! It is even very probable that what this young girl did evoked (and so to say solicited) the manifestation of mediumistic energy,--giving it a definite form.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Another lecture!

  PROFESSOR (sternly). You say, Anna Pávlovna, that this girl, and perhaps this dear young lady also, did something; but the light we all saw, and, in the first case the fall, and in the second the rise of temperature, and Grossman's excitement and vibration--were those things also done by this girl? And these are facts, Anna Pávlovna, facts! No! Anna Pávlovna, there are things which must be investigated and fully understood before they can be talked about, things too serious, too serious....

  LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. And the child that Márya Vasílevna distinctly saw? Why, I saw it too.... That could not have been done by this girl.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You think yourself wise, but you are--a fool.

  LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well, I'm going.... Alexéy Vladímiritch, will you come?

  [Exit into his study.

  PROFESSOR (shrugging his shoulders, follows). Oh, how far, how far, we still lag behind Western Europe!

  [Enter JACOB.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA (following LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH with her eyes). He has been tricked like a fool, and he sees nothing! (To JACOB.) What do you want?

  JACOB. How many persons am I to lay the table for?

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. For how many?... Theodore Ivánitch! Let him give up the silver plate to you. Be off, at once! It is all his fault! This man will bring me to my grave. Last night he nearly starved the dog that had done him no harm! And, as if that were not enough, he lets the infected peasants into the kitchen, and now they are here again! It is all his fault! Be off at once! Discharge him, discharge him! (To SIMON.) And you, horrid peasant, if you dare to have rows in my house again, I'll teach you!

  SECOND PEASANT. All right, if he is a horrid peasant there's no good keeping him; you'd better discharge him too, and there's an end of it.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA (while listening to him looks at THIRD PEASANT). Only look! Why, he has a rash on his nose--a rash! He is ill; he is a hotbed of infection!! Did I not give orders, yesterday, that they were not to be allowed into the house, and here they are again? Drive them out!

  THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Then are we not to accept their money?

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Their money? Oh yes, take their money; but they must be turned out at once, especially this one! He is quite rotten!

  THIRD PEASANT. That's not just, lady. God's my witness, it's not just! You'd better ask my old woman, let's say, whether I am rotten! I'm clear as crystal, let's say.

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. He talks!... Off, off with him! It's all to spite me!... Oh, I can't bear it, I can't!... Send for the doctor!

  [Runs away, sobbing. Exit also JACOB and GREGORY.

  TÁNYA (to BETSY). Miss Elizabeth, darling, what am I to do now?

  BETSY. Never mind, you go with them and I'll arrange it all.

  [Exit.

  FIRST PEASANT. Well, your reverence, how about the reception of the sum now?

  SECOND PEASANT. Let us settle up, and go.

  THIRD PEASANT (fumbling with the packet of banknotes). Had I known, I'd not have come for the world. It's worse than a fever!

  THEODORE IVÁNITCH (to DOORKEEPER). Show them into my room. There's a counting-board there. I'll receive their money. Now go.

  DOORKEEPER. Come along.

  THEODORE IVÁNITCH. And it's Tánya you have to thank for it. But f
or her you'd not have had the land.

  FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. As she made the proposal, so she put it into effect.

  THIRD PEASANT. She's made men of us. Else what were we? We had so little land, no room to let a hen out, let's say, not to mention the cattle. Good-bye, dear! When you get to the village, come to us and eat honey.

  SECOND PEASANT. Let me get home and I'll start brewing the beer for the wedding! You will come?

  TÁNYA. Yes, I'll come, I'll come! (Shrieks.) Simon, this is fine, isn't it?

  [Exeunt PEASANTS.

  THEODORE IVÁNITCH. Well, Tánya, when you have your house I'll come to visit you. Will you welcome me?

  TÁNYA. Dear Theodore Ivánitch, just the same as we would our own father!

  [Embraces and kisses him.

  CURTAIN

  FOOTNOTES FOR FRUITS OF CULTURE

  1. Economical balls at which the ladies are bound to appear in dresses made of cotton materials.

  2. The present value of the rouble is rather over fifty cents.

  3. The Gypsy choirs are very popular in Moscow.

  4. BETSY. Cease! You are becoming quite unbearable!.

  5. PETRÍSTCHEF. I have C said (ceased), B said, and D said.

  6. BARONESS. But tell me, please, is he paid for this?

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I really do not know.

  BARONESS. But he is a gentleman?

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Oh, yes!

  BARONESS. It is almost miraculous. Isn't it? How does he manage to find things?

  ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I really can't tell you. My husband will explain it to you.... Excuse me....

  7. Stunning!

  8. BARONESS. Capital! Does it not cause him any pain?

  LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Not the slightest.

  9. He uses a Centigrade thermometer.

  10. LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. You bring good luck.

  11. FAT LADY. But he looks quite nice.

  12. To take a header.

  13. Do not disappoint us.

  14. BETSY. I have more than enough of your Koko.

  15. YOUNG PRINCESS. He is usually so very punctual....

  16. BETSY. Cease; mind the servants!

  17. And that won't suit me at all, at all! Not at all, at all!

  18. Employers have charge of the servants' passports, and in this way have a hold on them in case of misconduct.

  19. It is customary for peasants to marry just after Easter, but when spring has come and the field work begun, no marriages take place among them till autumn. (See also THE POWER OF DARKNESS footnote 2.)

  20. COUNTESS. Thank you (for your hospitality), a thousand thanks

  21. ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Thank you (for coming to see us), a thousand thanks. Till next Tuesday!

  Resurrection

  CHAPTER I

  .

  MASLOVA IN PRISON.

  Though hundreds of thousands had done their very best to disfigure the small piece of land on which they were crowded together, by paying the ground with stones, scraping away every vestige of vegetation, cutting down the trees, turning away birds and beasts, and filling the air with the smoke of naphtha and coal, still spring was spring, even in the town.

  The sun shone warm, the air was balmy; everywhere, where it did not get scraped away, the grass revived and sprang up between the paving-stones as well as on the narrow strips of lawn on the boulevards. The birches, the poplars, and the wild cherry unfolded their gummy and fragrant leaves, the limes were expanding their opening buds; crows, sparrows, and pigeons, filled with the joy of spring, were getting their nests ready; the flies were buzzing along the walls, warmed by the sunshine. All were glad, the plants, the birds, the insects, and the children. But men, grown-up men and women, did not leave off cheating and tormenting themselves and each other. It was not this spring morning men thought sacred and worthy of consideration not the beauty of God's world, given for a joy to all creatures, this beauty which inclines the heart to peace, to harmony, and to love, but only their own devices for enslaving one another.

  Thus, in the prison office of the Government town, it was not the fact that men and animals had received the grace and gladness of spring that was considered sacred and important, but that a notice, numbered and with a superscription, had come the day before, ordering that on this 28th day of April, at 9 a.m., three prisoners at present detained in the prison, a man and two women (one of these women, as the chief criminal, to be conducted separately), had to appear at Court. So now, on the 28th of April, at 8 o'clock, a jailer and soon after him a woman warder with curly grey hair, dressed in a jacket with sleeves trimmed with gold, with a blue-edged belt round her waist, and having a look of suffering on her face, came into the corridor.

  "You want Maslova?" she asked, coming up to the cell with the jailer who was on duty.

  The jailer, rattling the iron padlock, opened the door of the cell, from which there came a whiff of air fouler even than that in the corridor, and called out, "Maslova! to the Court," and closed the door again.

  Even into the prison yard the breeze had brought the fresh vivifying air from the fields. But in the corridor the air was laden with the germs of typhoid, the smell of sewage, putrefaction, and tar; every newcomer felt sad and dejected in it. The woman warder felt this, though she was used to bad air. She had just come in from outside, and entering the corridor, she at once became sleepy.

  From inside the cell came the sound of bustle and women's voices, and the patter of bare feet on the floor.

  "Now, then, hurry up, Maslova, I say!" called out the jailer, and in a minute or two a small young woman with a very full bust came briskly out of the door and went up to the jailer. She had on a grey cloak over a white jacket and petticoat. On her feet she wore linen stockings and prison shoes, and round her head was tied a white kerchief, from under which a few locks of black hair were brushed over the forehead with evident intent. The face of the woman was of that whiteness peculiar to people who have lived long in confinement, and which puts one in mind of shoots of potatoes that spring up in a cellar. Her small broad hands and full neck, which showed from under the broad collar of her cloak, were of the same hue. Her black, sparkling eyes, one with a slight squint, appeared in striking contrast to the dull pallor of her face.

  She carried herself very straight, expanding her full bosom.

  With her head slightly thrown back, she stood in the corridor, looking straight into the eyes of the jailer, ready to comply with any order.

  The jailer was about to lock the door when a wrinkled and severe-looking old woman put out her grey head and began speaking to Maslova. But the jailer closed the door, pushing the old woman's head with it. A woman's laughter was heard from the cell, and Maslova smiled, turning to the little grated opening in the cell door. The old woman pressed her face to the grating from the other side, and said, in a hoarse voice:

  "Now mind, and when they begin questioning you, just repeat over the same thing, and stick to it; tell nothing that is not wanted."

  "Well, it could not be worse than it is now, anyhow; I only wish it was settled one way or another."

  "Of course, it will be settled one way or another," said the jailer, with a superior's self-assured witticism. "Now, then, get along! Take your places!"

  The old woman's eyes vanished from the grating, and Maslova stepped out into the middle of the corridor. The warder in front, they descended the stone stairs, past the still fouler, noisy cells of the men's ward, where they were followed by eyes looking out of every one of the gratings in the doors, and entered the office, where two soldiers were waiting to escort her. A clerk who was sitting there gave one of the soldiers a paper reeking of tobacco, and pointing to the prisoner, remarked, "Take her."

  The soldier, a peasant from Nijni Novgorod, with a red, pock-marked face, put the paper into the sleeve of his coat, winked to his companion, a broad-shouldered Tchouvash, and then the prisoner and the soldiers went to the front entrance, out of the prison yard, and through the town up the middle of t
he roughly-paved street.

  Isvostchiks [cabmen], tradespeople, cooks, workmen, and government clerks, stopped and looked curiously at the prisoner; some shook their heads and thought, "This is what evil conduct, conduct unlike ours, leads to." The children stopped and gazed at the robber with frightened looks; but the thought that the soldiers were preventing her from doing more harm quieted their fears. A peasant, who had sold his charcoal, and had had some tea in the town, came up, and, after crossing himself, gave her a copeck. The prisoner blushed and muttered something; she noticed that she was attracting everybody's attention, and that pleased her. The comparatively fresh air also gladdened her, but it was painful to step on the rough stones with the ill-made prison shoes on her feet, which had become unused to walking. Passing by a corn-dealer's shop, in front of which a few pigeons were strutting about, unmolested by any one, the prisoner almost touched a grey-blue bird with her foot; it fluttered up and flew close to her car, fanning her with its wings. She smiled, then sighed deeply as she remembered her present position.