STEPAN: Provided justice is done—even if it’s done by assassins—what does it matter which you are? You and I are negligible quantities.
KALIAYEV: We are not, and you know it as well as anyone; in fact it’s pride, just pride, that makes you talk as you are doing now.
STEPAN: My pride is my concern alone. But men’s pride, their rebellion, the injustice that is done them—these are the concern of all of us.
KALIAYEV: Men do not live by justice alone.
STEPAN: When their bread is stolen, what else have they to live by?
KALIAYEV: By justice, and, don’t forget, by innocence.
STEPAN: Innocence? Yes, maybe I know what that means. But I prefer to shut my eyes to it—and to shut others’ eyes to it, for the time being—so that one day it may have a world-wide meaning.
KALIAYEV: Well, you must feel very sure that day is coming if you repudiate everything that makes life worth living today, on its account.
STEPAN: I am certain that that day is coming.
KALIAYEV: No, you can’t be as sure as that.… Before it can be known which of us, you or I, is right, perhaps three generations will have to be sacrificed; there will have been bloody wars, and no less bloody revolutions. And by the time that all this blood has dried off the earth, you and I will long since have turned to dust.
STEPAN: Then others will come—and I hail them as my brothers.
KALIAYEV [excitedly, raising his voice]: Others, you say! Quite likely you are right. But those I love are the men who are alive today, and walk this same earth. It’s they whom I hail, it is for them I am fighting, for them I am ready to lay down my life. But I shall not strike my brothers in the face for the sake of some far-off city, which, for all I know, may not exist. I refuse to add to the living injustice all around me for the sake of a dead justice. [In a lower voice, but firmly] Brothers, I want to speak to you quite frankly and to tell you something that even the simplest peasant in our backwoods would say if you asked him his opinion. Killing children is a crime against a man’s honor. And if one day the revolution thinks fit to break with honor, well, I’m through with the revolution. If you decide that I must do it, well and good; I will go to the theater when they’re due to come out—but I’ll fling myself under the horses’ feet.
STEPAN: Honor is a luxury reserved for people who have carriages-and-pairs.
KALIAYEV: No. It’s the one wealth left to a poor man. You know it, and you also know that the revolution has its code of honor. It’s what we all are ready to die for. It’s what made you hold your head up, Stepan, when they flogged you, and it’s behind what you have been saying to us today.
STEPAN [shrilly]: Keep quiet! I forbid you to speak of that!
KALIAYEV [angrily]: Why must I keep quiet? I took it lying down when you said I didn’t believe in the revolution. Which was as good as telling me that I was ready to kill the Grand Duke for nothing; that I was a common murderer. I let you say that—and somehow I kept my hands off you!
ANNENKOV: Yanek!
STEPAN: It’s killing for nothing, sometimes, not to kill enough.
ANNENKOV: Stepan, none of us here agrees with you. And we have made our decision.
STEPAN: Then I bow to it. Only, let me tell you once again that squeamishness is out of place in work like ours. We’re murderers, and we have chosen to be murderers.
KALIAYEV [losing all self-control]: That’s a lie! I have chosen death so as to prevent murder from triumphing in the world. I’ve chosen to be innocent.
ANNENKOV: Yanek! Stepan! That’s enough of it. The group has decided that the slaughter of these children would serve no purpose. We must start again from the beginning, and be ready for another try at it in two days’ time.
STEPAN: And supposing the children are there again?
KALIAYEV: Then we shall await another opportunity.
STEPAN: And supposing the Grand Duchess is with the Duke?
KALIAYEV: Her I shall not spare.
ANNENKOV: Listen!
[A rumble of carriage wheels. KALIAYEV is drawn irresistibly to the window. The carriage approaches, rattles past, recedes.]
VOINOV [looking at DORA, who has come toward him]: Well, Dora, that settles it; we’ll have to make another try …
STEPAN [disdainfully]: Yes, Alexis, another try!… But of course we must do something for our precious honor!
CURTAIN
ACT III
Two days later; the same place, at the same hour.
STEPAN: What’s Voinov up to? He should be here.
ANNENKOV: He needs some sleep, and we’ve still a good half hour before us.
STEPAN: Suppose I went down to see if there’s any news?
ANNENKOV: No. We must take no unnecessary risks. [A short silence.] Yanek, why are you so silent?
KALIAYEV: I’ve nothing to say. But you needn’t feel any anxiety about me. [A ring at the bell.] Ah, here he is. [VOINOV enters.] Did you sleep?
VOINOV: Yes, a bit.
ANNENKOV: Did you sleep all night?
VOINOV: No, not quite all the night.
ANNENKOV: Well, you should have. There are ways of making oneself sleep.
VOINOV: I tried them. But I must have been overtired.
ANNENKOV: Your hands are shaking.
VOINOV: No. [All gaze at him.] Why are you eying me like that? Surely there’s nothing so terrible about one’s feeling tired?
ANNENKOV: That’s not the point. It’s about you we’re troubled.
VOINOV [with sudden vehemence]: You should have thought about all that two days ago. If the bomb had been thrown then, we wouldn’t be feeling tired today.
KALIAYEV: I’m sorry, Alexis; it’s all my fault. I’ve made things harder for everybody.
VOINOV [in a quieter tone]: What do you mean? Why harder? I’m tired, and that’s all there is to it!
DORA: Well, it won’t be long now. In an hour’s time all will be over.
VOINOV: Yes, all will be over. In an hour’s time. [He glances uneasily round the room. DORA goes up to him and clasps his hand. He leaves his hand in hers for a moment, then snatches it away.] Boria, I want to talk to you.
ANNENKOV: In private?
VOINOV: Yes, in private.
[They exchange glances; then KALIAYEV, DORA, and STEPAN leave the room.]
ANNENKOV: Yes? What is it? [VOINOV keeps silent.] Out with it, Alexis!
VOINOV: I’m ashamed, Boria. [Silence.] Bitterly ashamed. But I must tell you the truth.
ANNENKOV: You don’t want to throw the bomb, is that it?
VOINOV: I … I can’t bring myself to do it.
ANNENKOV: Do you mean you’ve panicked at the last moment? Is that all? There’s nothing shameful in that.
VOINOV: I’m afraid, and I’m ashamed of my fear.
ANNENKOV: I can’t understand. The day before yesterday you were so gay—and brave. Your eyes were sparkling when you went out.
VOINOV: I’ve always been afraid. Only somehow, the day before yesterday, I’d screwed up my courage. When I heard the carriage in the distance I said to myself: “Good! Only a minute more!” I gritted my teeth, every muscle in my body was taut as steel, and if I’d flung the bomb at that moment I really believe its mere impact would have killed the Grand Duke. I waited, waited, for the first explosion, which was going to release that pent-up energy. But it never came. The carriage rumbled by. How fast it went! It was past me in a flash. And then I realized that Yanek hadn’t thrown his bomb. I went cold all over, icy cold. And suddenly all the strength went out of me and I felt weak as a child.
ANNENKOV: Don’t take it to heart, Alexis. That was just a passing lapse; life and strength come back.
VOINOV: Two days have gone by but they haven’t come back to me. Just now I lied to you; I couldn’t sleep a wink last night. My heart was racing, racing.… Oh, Boria, I’m so miserable, so sick of everything!
ANNENKOV: Don’t let what’s happened get you down, Alexis. We’ve all had the same experience at some time or another. You won’t be asked to throw the bomb. You must take a month’s rest in Finland, and then come back to us.
VOINOV: No, it’s not so simple as all that. If I don’t throw the bomb today I shall never throw one.
ANNENKOV: Oh, come now! You’re exaggerating.
VOINOV: No, Boria, it’s the simple truth. I’m not made for terrorism; I realize that now. The best thing is for me to leave you. I’ll do my bit in propaganda, on committees, and so forth.
ANNENKOV: The risk’s the same.
VOINOV: Yes. But you can keep your eyes shut; you don’t know—and that makes all the difference.
ANNENKOV: I don’t follow.
VOINOV: One doesn’t see what happens. It’s easy to attend meetings, work out plans, and then pass orders for their carrying out. You risk your life of course, but there’s a sort of veil between you and the—the real thing. It’s a very different matter going down into the street when night is falling on the city, taking your stand among the crowds of people hurrying home to their evening meal, their children, the wife who’s watching on the doorstep—and having to stand there, grim and silent, with the weight of the bomb tugging at your arm—and knowing that in three minutes, in two minutes, in a few seconds, you will dash out toward a carriage, bomb in hand. That’s what terrorist action means and I know now that I couldn’t start it all over again without feeling all the blood drained from my veins. Yes, I’m bitterly ashamed. I aimed too
