by Leo Tolstoy
PETER. There’ll be no one to manage things! She’s not steady. Has her head full of folly—why, I know all about it, I know. And my girl is silly and young. I’ve got the homestead together, and there’s no one to attend to things. One can’t help feeling it. [Whimpers].
MATRYONA. Why, if it’s money, or something, you can leave orders.
PETER [to Anisya inside the house] Has Nan gone?
MATRYONA [aside] There now, he’s remembered!
ANISYA [ from inside] She went then and there. Come inside, won’t you? I’ll help you in.
PETER. Let me sit here a bit for the last time. The air’s so stuffy inside. Oh, how bad I feel! Oh, my heart’s burning. . . . Oh, if death would only come.
MATRYONA. If God don’t take a soul, the soul can’t go out. Death and life are in God’s will, Peter Ignatitch. You can’t be sure of death either. Maybe you’ll recover yet. There was a man in our village just like that, at the very point of death . . .
PETER. No, I feel I shall die to-day, I feel it. [Leans back and shuts his eyes].
ANISYA [enters] Well now, are you coming in or not? You do keep one waiting. Peter! eh, Peter!
MATRYONA [steps aside and beckons to Anisya with her finger] Well?
ANISYA [comes down the porch steps] Not there.
MATRYONA. But have you searched everywhere? Under the floor?
ANISYA. No, it’s not there either. In the shed perhaps; he was rummaging there yesterday.
MATRYONA. Go, search, search for all you’re worth. Go all over everywhere, as if you licked with your tongue! But I see he’ll die this very day, his nails are turning blue and his face looks earthy. Is the samovar ready?
ANISYA. Just on the boil.
NIKITA [comes from the other side, if possible on horseback, up to the gate, and does not see Peter. To Matryona] How d’you do, mother, is all well at home?
MATRYONA. The Lord be thanked, we’re all alive and have a crust to bite.
NIKITA. Well, and how’s master?
MATRYONA. Hush, there he sits. [Points to porch].
NIKITA. Well, let him sit. What’s it to me?
PETER [opens his eyes] Nikita, I say, Nikita, come here! [Nikita approaches. Anisya and Matryona whisper together].
PETER. Why have you come back so early?
NIKITA. I’ve finished ploughing.
PETER. Have you done the strip beyond the bridge?
NIKITA. It’s too far to go there.
PETER. Too far? From here it’s still farther. You’ll have to go on purpose now. You might have made one job of it. [Anisya, without showing herself, stands and listens].
MATRYONA [approaches] Oh, sonnie, why don’t you take more pains for your master? Your master is ill and depends on you; you should serve him as you would your own father, straining every muscle just as I always tell you to.
PETER. Well then—o-oh! . . . Get out the seed potatoes, and the women will go and sort them.
ANISYA [aside] No fear, I’m not going. He’s again sending every one away; he must have the money on him now, and wants to hide it somewhere.
PETER. Else . . . o-oh! when the time comes for planting, they’ll all be rotten. Oh, I can’t stand it! [Rises].
MATRYONA [runs up into the porch and holds Peter up] Shall I help you into the hut?
PETER. Help me in. [Stops] Nikita.
NIKITA [angrily] What now?
PETER. I shan’t see you again . . . I’ll die to-day. . . . Forgive me,3 for Christ’s sake, forgive me if I have ever sinned against you . . . If I have sinned in word or deed . . . There’s been all sorts of things. Forgive me!
NIKITA. What’s there to forgive? I’m a sinner myself.
MATRYONA. Ah, sonnie, have some feeling.
PETER. Forgive me, for Christ’s sake. [Weeps].
NIKITA [snivels] God will forgive you, Daddy Peter. I have no cause to complain of you. You’ve never done me any wrong. You forgive me; maybe I’ve sinned worse against you. [ Weeps].
Peter goes in whimpering, Matryona supporting him.
ANISYA. Oh, my poor head! It’s not without some reason he’s hit on that. [Approaches Nikita] Why did you say the money was under the floor? It’s not there.
NIKITA [does not answer, but cries] I have never had anything bad from him, nothing but good, and what have I gone and done!
ANISYA. Enough now! Where’s the money?
NIKITA [angrily] How should I know? Go and look for it yourself !
ANISYA. What’s made you so tender?
NIKITA. I am sorry for him,—that sorry. How he cried! Oh dear!
ANISYA. Look at him,—seized with pity! He has found someone to pity too! He’s been treating you like a dog, and even just now was giving orders to have you turned out of the house. You’d better show me some pity!
NIKITA. What are you to be pitied for?
ANISYA. If he dies, and the money’s been hidden away . . .
NIKITA. No fear, he’ll not hide it . . .
ANISYA. Oh, Nikita darling! he’s sent for his sister, and wants to give it to her. It will be a bad lookout for us. How are we going to live, if he gives her the money? They’ll turn me out of the house! You try and manage somehow! You said he went to the shed last night.
NIKITA. I saw him coming from there, but where he’s shoved it to, who can tell?
ANISYA. Oh, my poor head! I’ll go and have a look there. [Nikita steps aside].
MATRYONA [comes out of the hut and down the steps of the porch to Anisya and Nikita] Don’t go anywhere. He’s got the money on him. I felt it on a string round his neck.
ANISYA. Oh my poor head!
MATRYONA. If you don’t keep wide awake now, then you may whistle for it. If his sister comes—then good-bye to it!
ANISYA. That’s true. She’ll come and he’ll give it her. What’s to be done? Oh my poor head!
MATRYONA. What is to be done? Why, look here: the samovar is boiling, go and make the tea and pour him out a cup, and then [whispers] put in all that’s left in the paper. When he’s drunk the cup, then just take it. He’ll not tell, no fear.
ANISYA. Oh! I’m afeared!
MATRYONA. Don’t be talking now, but look alive, and I’ll keep his sister off if need be. Mind, don’t make a blunder! Get hold of the money and bring it here, and Nikita will hide it.
ANISYA. Oh my poor head! I don’t know how I’m going to . . .
MATRYONA. Don’t talk about it I tell you, do as I bid you. Nikita!
NIKITA. What is it?
MATRYONA. You stay here—sit down—in case something is wanted.
NIKITA [waves his hand ] Oh these women, what won’t they be up to? Muddle one up completely. Bother them! I’ll really go and fetch out the potatoes.
MATRYONA [catches him by the arm] Stay here, I tell you.
Nan enters.
ANISYA. Well?
NAN. She was down in her daughter’s vegetable plot—she’s coming.
ANISYA. Coming! What shall we do?
MATRYONA. There’s plenty of time if you do as I tell you.
ANISYA. I don’t know what to do; I know nothing, my brain’s all in a whirl. Nan! Go, daughter, and see to the calves, they’ll have run away, I’m afraid. . . . Oh dear, I haven’t the courage.
MATRYONA. Go on! I should think the samovar’s boiling over.
ANISYA. Oh my head, my poor head! [Exit].
MATRYONA [approaches Nikita] Now then, sonnie. [Sits down beside him] Your affairs must also be thought about, and not left anyhow.
NIKITA. What affairs?
MATRYONA. Why, this affair—how you’re to live your life.
NIKITA. How to live my life? Others live, and I shall live!
MATRYONA. The old man will probably die to-day.
NIKITA. Well, if he dies, God give him rest! What’s that to me?
MATRYONA [keeps looking towards the porch while she speaks] Eh, sonnie! Those that are alive have to think about living. One needs plenty of sense in these matters, honey. W
hat do you think? I’ve tramped all over the place after your affairs, I’ve got quite footsore bothering about matters. And you must not forget me when the time comes.
NIKITA. And what’s it you’ve been bothering about?
MATRYONA. About your affairs, about your future. If you don’t take trouble in good time you’ll get nothing. You know Ivan Moseitch? Well, I’ve been to him too. I went there the other day. I had something else to settle, you know. Well, so I sat and chatted awhile and then came to the point. “Tell me, Ivan Moseitch,” says I, “how’s one to manage an affair of this kind? Supposing,” says I, “a peasant as is a widower married a second wife, and supposing all the children he has is a daughter by the first wife, and a daughter by the second. Then,” says I, “when that peasant dies, could an outsider get hold of the homestead by marrying the widow? Could he,” says I, “give both the daughters in marriage and remain master of the house himself ?” “Yes, he could,” says he, “but,” says he, “it would mean a deal of trouble; still the thing could be managed by means of money, but if there’s no money it’s no good trying.”
NIKITA [laughs] That goes without saying, only fork out the money. Who does not want money?
MATRYONA. Well then, honey, so I spoke out plainly about the affair. And he says, “ First and foremost, your son will have to get himself on the register of that village—that will cost something. The elders will have to be treated. And they, you see, they’ll sign. Everything,” says he, “must be done sensibly.” Look, [unwraps her kerchief and takes out a paper] he’s written out this paper; just read it, you’re a scholar, you know. [Nikita reads].
NIKITA. This paper’s only a decision for the elders to sign. There’s no great wisdom needed for that.
MATRYONA. But you just hear what Ivan Moseitch bids us do. “Above all,” he says, “mind and don’t let the money slip away, dame. If she don’t get hold of the money,” he says, “they’ll not let her do it. Money’s the great thing!” So look out, sonnie, things are coming to a head.
NIKITA. What’s that to me? The money’s hers—so let her look out.
MATRYONA. Ah, sonnie, how you look at it! How can a woman manage such affairs? Even if she does get the money, is she capable of arranging it all? One knows what a woman is! You’re a man anyhow. You can hide it, and all that. You see, you’ve after all got more sense, in case of anything happening.
NIKITA. Oh, your woman’s notions are all so inexpedient!
MATRYONA. Why inexpedient? You just collar the money, and the woman’s in your hands. And then should she ever turn snappish you’d be able to tighten the reins!
NIKITA. Bother you all,—I’m going.
ANISYA [quite pale, runs out of the hut and round the corner to Matryona] So it was, it was on him! Here it is! [Shows that she has something under her apron].
MATRYONA. Give it to Nikita, he’ll hide it. Nikita, take it and hide it somewhere.
NIKITA. All right, give here!
ANISYA. O-oh, my poor head! No, I’d better do it myself. [Goes towards the gate].
MATRYONA [seizing her by the arm] Where are you going to? You’ll be missed. There’s the sister coming; give it him; he knows what to do. Eh, you blockhead!
ANISYA. [stops irresolutely] Oh, my poor head!
NIKITA. Well, give it here. I’ll shove it away somewhere.
ANISYA. Where will you shove it to?
NIKITA [laughing] Why, are you afraid?
Enter Akoulina, carrying clothes from the wash.
ANISYA. O-oh, my poor head! [Gives the money] Mind, Nikita.
NIKITA. What are you afraid of ? I’ll hide it so that I’ll not be able to find it myself. [Exit].
ANISYA [stands in terror] Oh dear, and supposing he . . .
MATRYONA. Well, is he dead?
ANISYA. Yes, he seems dead. He did not move when I took it.
MATRYONA. Go in, there’s Akoulina.
ANISYA. Well there, I’ve done the sin and he has the money. . . .
MATRYONA. Have done and go in! There’s Martha coming!
ANISYA. There now, I’ve trusted him. What’s going to happen now? [Exit].
MARTHA [enters from one side, Akoulina enters from the other. To Akoulina] I should have come before, but I was at my daughter’s. Well, how’s the old man? Is he dying?
AKOULINA [puts down the clothes] Don’t know, I’ve been to the river.
MARTHA [pointing to Matryona] Who’s that?
MATRYONA. I’m from Zouevo. I’m Nikita’s mother from Zouevo, my dearie. Good afternoon to you. He’s withering, withering away, poor dear—your brother, I mean. He came out himself. “Send for my sister,’’ he said, “because,” said he . . . Dear me, why, I do believe, he’s dead!
ANISYA [runs out screaming. Clings to a post, and begins wailing]4 Oh, oh, ah! who-o-o-m have you left me to, why-y-y have you dese-e-e-e-rted me—a miserable widow . . . to live my life alone . . . Why have you closed your bright eyes . . .
Enter Neighbor. Matryona and Neighbor catch hold of Anisya under the arms to support her. Akoulina and Martha go into the hut. A crowd assembles.
A VOICE IN THE CROWD. Send for the old women to lay out the body.
MATRYONA [rolls up her sleeves] Is there any water in the copper? But I daresay the samovar is still hot. I’ll also go and help a bit.
Curtain.
* * *
1 It is customary to place a dying person under the icon. One or more icons hang in the hut of each Orthodox peasant.
2 Peasant weddings are usually in autumn. They are forbidden in Lent, and after that the peasants are too busy to marry till harvest is over.
3 A formal request for forgiveness is customary among Russians, but it is often no mere formality. Nikita’s first reply is evasive; his second reply, “God will forgive you,” is the correct one sanctioned by custom.
4 Loud public wailing of this kind is customary, and considered indispensable, among the peasants.
ACT III
The same hut. Winter. Nine months have passed since Act II. Anisya, plainly dressed, sits before a loom weaving. Nan is on the oven.
MITRITCH [an old laborer, enters, and slowly takes off his outdoor things] Oh Lord, have mercy! Well, hasn’t the master come home yet?
ANISYA. What?
MITRITCH. Nikita isn’t back from town, is he?
ANISYA. No.
MITRITCH. Must have been on the spree. Oh Lord!
ANISYA. Have you finished in the stackyard?
MITRITCH. What d’you think? Got it all as it should be, and covered everything with straw! I don’t like doing things by halves! Oh Lord! holy Nicholas! [Picks at the corns on his hands] Else it’s time he were back.
ANISYA. What need has he to hurry? He’s got money. Merry-making with that girl, I daresay . . .
MITRITCH. Why shouldn’t one make merry if one has the money? And why did Akoulina go to town?
ANISYA. You’d better ask her. How do I know what the devil took her there!
MITRITCH. What! to town? There’s all sorts of things to be got in town if one’s got the means. Oh Lord!
NAN. Mother, I heard myself. “I’ll get you a little shawl,” he says, may I die; “you shall choose it yourself,” he says. And she got herself up so fine; she put on her velveteen coat and the French shawl.
ANISYA. Really, a girl’s modesty reaches only to the door. Step over the threshold and it’s forgotten. She is a shameless creature.
MITRITCH. Oh my! What’s the use of being ashamed? While there’s plenty of money make merry. Oh Lord! It is too soon to have supper, eh? [Anisya does not answer] I’ll go and get warm meanwhile. [Climbs on the stove] Oh Lord! Blessed Virgin Mother! holy Nicholas!
NEIGHBOR [enters] Seems your goodman’s not back yet?
ANISYA. No.
NEIGHBOR. It’s time he was. Hasn’t he perhaps stopped at our inn? My sister, Thekla, says there’s heaps of sledges standing there as have come from the town.
ANISYA. Nan! Nan, I say!
ANISYA. You run to the inn and see! Mayhap, being drunk, he’s gone there.
NAN [ jumps down from the oven and dresses] All right.
NEIGHBOR. And he’s taken Akoulina with him?
ANISYA. Else he’d not have had any need of going. It’s because of her he’s unearthed all the business there. “Must go to the bank,’’ he says; “it’s time to receive the payments,” he says. But it’s all her fooling.
NEIGHBOR [shakes her head ] It’s a bad look-out. [Silence].
NAN [at the door] And if he’s there, what am I to say?
ANISYA. You only see if he’s there.
NAN. All right. I’ll be back in a winking. [Long silence].
MITRITCH [roars] Oh Lord! merciful Nicholas!
NEIGHBOR [starting] Oh, how he scared me? Who is it?
ANISYA. Why, Mitritch, our laborer.
NEIGHBOR. Oh dear, oh dear, what a fright he did give me! I had quite forgotten. But tell me, dear, I’ve heard someone’s been wooing Akoulina?
ANISYA [ gets up from the loom and sits down by the table] There was someone from Dedlovo; but it seems the affair’s got wind there too. They made a start, and then stopped; so the thing fell through. Of course, who’d care to?
NEIGHBOR. And the Lizounofs from Zouevo?
ANISYA. They made some steps too, but it didn’t come off either. They won’t even receive us.
NEIGHBOR. Yet it’s time she was married.
ANISYA. Time and more than time! Ah, my dear, I’m that impatient to get her out of the house; but the matter does not come off. He does not wish it, nor she either. He’s not yet had enough of his beauty, you see.
NEIGHBOR. Eh, eh, eh, what doings! Only think of it. Why, he’s her step-father!
ANISYA. Ah, friend, they’ve taken me in completely. They’ve done me so fine it’s beyond saying. I, fool that I was, noticed nothing, suspected nothing, and so I married him. I guessed nothing, but they already understood one another.
NEIGHBOR. Oh dear, what goings on!
ANISYA. So it went on from bad to worse, and I see they begin hiding from me. Ah, friend, I was that sick—that sick of my life! It’s not as if I didn’t love him.
