The Power of Darkness

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The Power of Darkness Page 6

by Leo Tolstoy


  AKOULINA. What?

  NIKITA. Show your presents.

  AKOULINA. The presents, what’s the use of showing ’em? I’ve put ’em away.

  NIKITA. Get them, I tell you. Nan will like to see ’em. Undo the shawl. Give it here.

  AKIM. Oh, oh! It’s sickening! [Climbs on the oven].

  AKOULINA [ gets out the parcels and puts them on the table] Well, there you are,—what’s the good of looking at ’em?

  NAN. Oh, how lovely! It’s as good as Stepanida’s.

  AKOULINA. Stepanida’s? What’s Stepanida’s compared to this? [Brightening up and undoing the parcels] Just look here,—see the quality! It’s a French one.

  NAN. The print is fine! Mary has a dress like it, only lighter on a blue ground. This is pretty.

  NIKITA. Ah, that’s it!

  Anisya passes angrily into the closet, returns with a tablecloth and the chimney of the samovar, and goes up to the table.

  ANISYA. Drat you, littering the table!

  NIKITA. You look here!

  ANISYA. What am I to look at? Have I never seen anything? Put it away! [Sweeps the shawl on to the floor with her arm].

  AKOULINA. What are you pitching things down for? You pitch your own things about! [Picks up the shawl].

  NIKITA. Anisya! Look here!

  ANISYA. Why am I to look?

  NIKITA. You think I have forgotten you? Look here! [Shows her a parcel and sits down on it] It’s a present for you. Only you must earn it! Wife, where am I sitting?

  ANISYA. Enough of your humbug. I’m not afraid of you. Whose money are you spreeing on and buying your fat wench presents with? Mine!

  AKOULINA. Yours indeed? No fear! You wished to steal it, but it did not come off ! Get out of the way! [Pushes her while trying to pass].

  ANISYA. What are you shoving for? I’ll teach you to shove!

  AKOULINA. Shove me? You try! [Presses against Anisya].

  NIKITA. Now then, now then, you women. Have done now! [Steps between them].

  AKOULINA. Comes shoving herself in! You ought to keep quiet and remember your doings! You think no one knows!

  ANISYA. Knows what? Out with it, out with it! What do they know?

  AKOULINA. I know something about you!

  ANISYA. You’re a slut who goes with another’s husband!

  AKOULINA. And you did yours to death!

  ANISYA [throwing herself on Akoulina] You’re raving!

  NIKITA [holding her back] Anisya, you seem to have forgotten!

  ANISYA. Want to frighten me! I’m not afraid of you!

  NIKITA [turns Anisya round and pushes her out] Be off !

  ANISYA. Where am I to go? I’ll not go out of my own house!

  NIKITA. Be off, I tell you, and don’t dare to come in here!

  ANISYA. I won’t go! [Nikita pushes her, Anisya cries and screams and clings to the door] What! am I to be turned out of my own house by the scruff of the neck? What are you doing, you scoundrel? Do you think there’s no law for you? You wait a bit!

  NIKITA. Now then!

  ANISYA. I’ll go to the Elder! To the policeman!

  NIKITA. Off, I tell you! [Pushes her out].

  ANISYA [behind the door] I’ll hang myself !

  NIKITA. No fear!

  NAN. Oh, oh, oh! Mother, dear, darling! [Cries].

  NIKITA. Me frightened of her! A likely thing! What are you crying for? She’ll come back, no fear. Go and see to the samovar. [Exit Nan].

  AKOULINA [collects and folds her presents] The mean wretch, how she’s messed it up. But wait a bit, I’ll cut up her jacket for her! Sure I will!

  NIKITA. I’ve turned her out, what more do you want?

  AKOULINA. She’s dirtied my new shawl. If that bitch hadn’t gone away, I’d have torn her eyes out!

  NIKITA. That’s enough. Why should you be angry? Now if I loved her . . .

  AKOULINA. Loved her? She’s worth loving, with her fat mug! If you’d have given her up, then nothing would have happened. You should have sent her to the devil. And the house was mine all the same, and the money was mine! Says she is the mistress, but what sort of mistress is she to her husband? She’s a murderess, that’s what she is! She’ll serve you the same way!

  NIKITA. Oh dear, how’s one to stop a woman’s jaw? You don’t yourself know what you’re jabbering about!

  AKOULINA. Yes, I do. I’ll not live with her! I’ll turn her out of the house! She can’t live here with me. The mistress indeed! She’s not the mistress,—that jailbird!

  NIKITA. That’s enough! What have you to do with her? Don’t mind her. You look at me! I am the master! I do as I like. I’ve ceased to love her, and now I love you. I love who I like! The power is mine, she’s under me. That’s where I keep her. [Points to his feet] A pity we’ve no concertina. [Sings].

  “We have loaves on the stoves,

  We have porridge on the shelf.

  So we’ll live and be gay,

  Making merry every day,

  And when death comes,

  Then we’ll die!

  We have loaves on the stoves,

  We have porridge on the shelf . . . ”

  Enter Mitritch. He takes off his outdoor things and climbs on the oven.

  MITRITCH. Seems the women have been fighting again! Tearing each other’s hair. Oh Lord, gracious Nicholas!

  AKIM [sitting on the edge of the oven, takes his leg-bands and shoes and begins putting them on] Get in, get into the corner.

  MITRITCH. Seems they can’t settle matters between them. Oh Lord!

  NIKITA. Get out the liquor, we’ll have some with our tea.

  NAN [to Akoulina] Sister, the samovar is just boiling over.

  NIKITA. And where’s your mother?

  NAN. She’s standing and crying out there in the passage.

  NIKITA. Oh, that’s it! Call her, and tell her to bring the samovar. And you, Akoulina, get the tea things.

  AKOULINA. The tea things? All right. [Brings the things].

  NIKITA [unpacks spirits, rusks, and salt herrings] That’s for myself. This is yarn for the wife. The paraffin is out there in the passage, and here’s the money. Wait a bit, [takes a counting-frame] I’ll add it up. [Adds] Wheat-flour, 80 kopeykas, oil . . . Father, 10 roubles. . . . Father, come let’s have some tea!

  Silence. Akim sits on the oven and winds the bands round his legs. Enter Anisya with samovar.

  ANISYA. Where shall I put it?

  NIKITA. Here on the table. Well! have you been to the Elder? Ah, that’s it! Have your say and then eat your words. Now then, that’s enough. Don’t be cross, sit down and drink this. [Fills a wine-glass for her] And here’s your present. [Gives her the parcel he had been sitting on. Anisya takes it silently and shakes her head ].

  AKIM [ gets down and, puts on his sheepskin, then comes up to the table and puts down the money] Here, take your money back! Put it away.

  NIKITA [does not see the money] Why have you put on your things?

  AKIM. I’m going, going I mean; forgive me for the Lord’s sake. [Takes up his cap and belt].

  NIKITA. My gracious! Where are you going to at this time of night?

  AKIM. I can’t, I mean what d’ye call ’em, in your house, what d’ye call ’em, can’t stay I mean, stay, can’t stay, forgive me.

  NIKITA. But are you going without having any tea?

  AKIM [ fastens his belt] Going, because, I mean, it’s not right in your house, I mean, what d’you call it, not right, Nikita, in the house, what d’ye call it, not right! I mean, you are living a bad life, Nikita, bad,—I’ll go.

  NIKITA. Eh now! Have done talking! Sit down and drink your tea!

  ANISYA. Why, father, you’ll shame us before the neighbors. What has offended you?

  AKIM. Nothing what d’ye call it, nothing has offended me, nothing at all! I mean only, I see, what d’you call it, I mean, I see my son, to ruin I mean, to ruin, I mean my son’s on the road to ruin, I mean.

  NIKITA. What ruin? Just prove it!

&n
bsp; AKIM. Ruin, ruin; you’re in the midst of it! What did I tell you that time?

  NIKITA. You said all sorts of things!

  AKIM. I told you, what d’ye call it, I told you about the orphan lass. That you had wronged an orphan—Marina, I mean, wronged her!

  NIKITA. Eh! he’s at it again. Let bygones be bygones . . . All that’s past!

  AKIM [excited ] Past! No, lad, it’s not past. Sin, I mean, fastens on to sin—drags sin after it, and you’ve stuck fast, Nikita, fast in sin! Stuck fast in sin! I see you’re fast in sin. Stuck fast, sunk in sin, I mean!

  NIKITA. Sit down and drink your tea, and have done with it!

  AKIM. I can’t, I mean can’t what d’ye call it, can’t drink tea. Because of your filth, I mean; I feel what d’ye call it, I feel sick, very sick! I can’t what d’ye call it, I can’t drink tea with you.

  NIKITA. Eh! There he goes rambling! Come to the table.

  AKIM. You’re in your riches same as in a net—you’re in a net, I mean. Ah, Nikita, it’s the soul that God needs!

  NIKITA. Now really, what right have you to reprove me in my own house? Why do you keep on at me? Am I a child that you can pull by the hair? Nowadays those things have been dropped!

  AKIM. That’s true. I have heard that nowadays, what d’ye call it, that nowadays children pull their fathers’ beards, I mean! But that’s ruin, that’s ruin, I mean!

  NIKITA [angrily] We are living without help from you, and it’s you who came to us with your wants!

  AKIM. The money? There’s your money! I’ll go begging, begging I mean, before I’ll take it, I mean.

  NIKITA. That’s enough! Why be angry and upset the whole company! [Holds him by the arm].

  AKIM [shrieks] Let go! I’ll not stay. I’d rather sleep under some fence than in the midst of your filth! Faugh! God forgive me! [Exit].

  NIKITA. Here’s a go!

  AKIM [reopens the door] Come to your senses, Nikita! It’s the soul that God wants! [Exit].

  AKOULINA [takes cups] Well, shall I pour out the tea? [Takes a cup. All are silent].

  MITRITCH [roars] Oh Lord, be merciful to me a sinner! [All start].

  NIKITA [lies down on the bench] Oh, it’s dull, it’s dull! [To Akoulina] Where’s the concertina?

  AKOULINA. The concertina? He’s bethought himself of it. Why, you took it to be mended. I’ve poured out your tea. Drink it!

  NIKITA. I don’t want it! Put out the light . . . Oh, how dull I feel, how dull! [Sobs].

  Curtain.

  ACT IV

  Autumn. Evening. The moon is shining. The stage represents the interior of courtyard. The scenery at the back shows, in the middle, the back porch of the hut. To the right the winter half of the hut and the gate; to the left the summer half and the cellar. To the right of the stage is a shed. The sounds of tipsy voices and shouts are heard from the hut.1 Second Neighbor Woman comes out of the hut and beckons to First Neighbor Woman.

  SECOND NEIGHBOR. How’s it Akoulina has not shown herself ?

  FIRST NEIGHBOR. Why hasn’t she shown herself ? She’d have been glad to; but she’s too ill, you know. The suitor’s relatives have come, and want to see the girl; and she, my dear, she’s lying in the cold hut and can’t come out, poor thing!

  SECOND NEIGHBOR. But how’s that?

  FIRST NEIGHBOR. They say she’s been bewitched by an evil eye! She’s got pains in the stomach!

  SECOND NEIGHBOR. You don’t say so?

  FIRST NEIGHBOR. What else could it be? [Whispers].

  SECOND NEIGHBOR. Dear me! There’s a go! But his relatives will surely find it out?

  FIRST NEIGHBOR. They find it out! They’re all drunk! Besides, they are chiefly after her dowry. Just think what they give with the girl! Two furs, my dear, six dresses, a French shawl, and I don’t know how many pieces of linen, and money as well,—two hundred roubles, it’s said!

  SECOND NEIGHBOR. That’s all very well, but even money can’t give much pleasure in the face of such a disgrace.

  FIRSTNEIGHBOR. Hush! . . . There’s his father, I think.

  They cease talking, and go into the hut.

  The Suitor’s Father comes out of the hut hiccoughing.

  THE FATHER. Oh, I’m all in a sweat. It’s awfully hot! Will just cool myself a bit. [Stands puffing] The Lord only knows what—something is not right. I can’t feel happy.—Well, it’s the old woman’s affair.

  Enter Matryona from hut.

  MATRYONA. And I was just thinking, where’s the father? Where’s the father? And here you are, dear friend. . . . Well, dear friend, the Lord be thanked! Everything is as honorable as can be! When one’s arranging a match one should not boast. And I have never learnt to boast. But as you’ve come about the right business, so with the Lord’s help, you’ll be grateful to me all your life! She’s a wonderful girl! There’s no other like her in all the district!

  THE FATHER. That’s true enough, but how about the money?

  MATRYONA. Don’t you trouble about the money! All she had from her father goes with her. And it’s more than one gets easily, as things are nowadays. Three times fifty roubles!

  THE FATHER. We don’t complain, but it’s for our own child. Naturally we want to get the best we can.

  MATRYONA I’ll tell you straight, friend: if it hadn’t been for me, you’d never have found anything like her! They’ve had an offer from the Karmilins, but I stood out against it. And as for the money, I’ll tell you truly: when her father, God be merciful to his soul, was dying, he gave orders that the widow should take Nikita into the homestead—of course I know all about it from my son,— and the money was to go to Akoulina. Why, another one might have thought of his own interests, but Nikita gives everything clean! It’s no trifle. Fancy what a sum it is!

  THE FATHER. People are saying, that more money was left her? The lad’s sharp too!

  MATRYONA. Oh, dear soul alive! A slice in another’s hand always looks big; all she had will be handed over. I tell you, throw doubts to the wind and make all sure! What a girl she is! as fresh as a daisy!

  THE FATHER. That’s so. But my old woman and I were only wondering about the girl; why has she not come out? We’ve been thinking, suppose she’s sickly?

  MATRYONA. Oh, ah. . . . Who? She? Sickly? Why, there’s none to compare with her in the district. The girl’s as sound as a bell; you can’t pinch her. But you saw her the other day! And as for work, she’s wonderful! She’s a bit deaf, that’s true, but there are spots on the sun, you know. And her not coming out, you see, it’s from an evil eye! A spell’s been cast on her! And I know the bitch who’s done the business! They know of the betrothal and they bewitched her. But I know a counter-spell. The girl will get up to-morrow. Don’t you worry about the girl!

  THE FATHER. Well, of course, the thing’s settled.

  MATRYONA. Yes, of course! Don’t you turn back. And don’t forget me, I’ve had a lot of trouble. Don’t forget . . .

  A woman’s voice from the hut.

  VOICE. If we are to go, let’s go. Come along, Ivan!

  THE FATHER. I’m coming. [Exeunt. Guests crowd together in the passage and prepare to go away].

  NAN [runs out of the hut and calls to Anisya] Mother!

  ANISYA [ from inside] What d’you want?

  NAN. Mother, come here, or they’ll hear.

  Anisya enters and they go together to the shed.

  ANISYA. Well? What is it? Where’s Akoulina?

  NAN. She’s gone into the barn. It’s awful what’s she’s doing there! May I die! “I can’t bear it,” she says. “I’ll scream,” she says, “I’ll scream out loud.” May I die!

  ANISYA. She’ll have to wait. We’ll see our visitors off first.

  NAN. Oh mother! She’s so bad! And she’s angry too. “What’s the good of their drinking my health?” she says. “I shan’t marry,” she says. “I shall die,” she says. Mother, supposing she does die! It’s awful. I’m so afraid!

  ANISYA. No fear, she’ll not die. But don’t you go near her.
Come along. [Exit Anisya and Nan].

  MITRITCH [comes in at the gate and begins collecting the scattered hay] Oh Lord! Merciful Nicholas! What a lot of liquor they’ve been and swilled, and the smell they’ve made! It smells even out here! But no, I don’t want any, drat it! See how they’ve scattered the hay about. They don’t eat it, but only trample it under foot. A truss gone before you know it. Oh, that smell, it seems to be just under my nose! Drat it! [Yawns] It’s time to go to sleep! But I don’t care to go into the hut. It seems to float just round my nose! It has a strong scent, the damned stuff ! [The guests are heard driving off  ] They’re off at last. Oh Lord! Merciful Nicholas! There they go, binding themselves and gulling one another. And it’s all gammon!

  Enter Nikita.

  NIKITA. Mitritch, you get off to sleep and I’ll put this straight.

  MITRITCH. All right, you throw it to the sheep. Well, have you seen ’em all off ?

  NIKITA. Yes, they’re off ! But things are not right! I don’t know what to do!

  MITRITCH. It’s a fine mess. But there’s the Foundlings’2 for that sort of thing. Whoever likes may drop one there; they’ll take ’em all. Give ’em as many as you like, they ask no questions, and even pay—if the mother goes in as a wet-nurse. It’s easy enough nowadays.

  NIKITA. But mind, Mitritch, don’t go blabbing.

  MITRITCH. It’s no concern of mine. Cover the tracks as you think best. Dear me, how you smell of liquor! I’ll go in. Oh Lord! [Exit, yawning].

  Nikita is long silent. Sits down on a sledge.

  NIKITA. Here’s a go!

  Enter Anisya.

  ANISYA. Where are you?

  NIKITA. Here.

  ANISYA. What are you doing there? There’s no time to be lost! We must take it out directly!

  NIKITA. What are we to do?

  ANISYA. I’ll tell you what you are to do. And you’ll have to do it!

  NIKITA. You’d better take it to the Foundlings’—if anything.

  ANISYA. Then you’d better take it there yourself if you like! You’ve a hankering for smut, but you’re weak when it comes to settling up, I see!

  NIKITA. What’s to be done?

  ANISYA. Go down into the cellar, I tell you, and dig a hole!

  NIKITA. Couldn’t you manage, somehow, some other way?

 

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