NIKÍTA. Eh! There he goes rambling! Come to the table.
AKÍM. You’re in your riches same as in a net–you’re in a net, I mean. Ah, Nikíta, it’s the soul that God needs!
NIKÍTA. 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!
AKÍM. 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!
NIKÍTA [angrily] We are living without help from you, and it’s you who came to us with your wants!
AKÍM. The money? There’s your money! I’ll go begging, begging I mean, before I’ll take it, I mean.
NIKÍTA. That’s enough! Why be angry and upset the whole company! [Holds him by the arm].
AKÍM [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].
NIKÍTA. Here’s a go!
AKÍM [reopens the door] Come to your senses, Nikíta! It’s the soul that God wants! [Exit].
AKOULÍNA [takes cups] Well, shall I pour out the tea? [Takes a cup. All are silent].
MÍTRITCH [roars] Oh Lord, be merciful to me a sinner! [All start].
NIKÍTA [lies down on the bench] Oh, it’s dull, it’s dull! [To Akoulína] Where’s the concertina?
AKOULÍNA. The concertina? He’s bethought himself of it. Why, you took it to be mended. I’ve poured out your tea. Drink it!
NIKÍTA. 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 sound of tipsy voices and shouts are heard from the hut.[5] Second Neighbour Woman comes out of the hut and beckons to First Neighbour Woman.
[5] Where not otherwise mentioned in the stage directions, it is always the winter half of the hut that is referred to as “the hut.” The summer half is not heated, and not used in winter under ordinary circumstances.
SECOND NEIGHBOUR. How’s it Akoulína has not shown herself?
FIRST NEIGHBOUR. 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 NEIGHBOUR. But how’s that?
FIRST NEIGHBOUR. They say she’s been bewitched by an evil eye! She’s got pains in the stomach!
SECOND NEIGHBOUR. You don’t say so?
FIRST NEIGHBOUR. What else could it be? [Whispers].
SECOND NEIGHBOUR. Dear me! There’s a go! But his relatives will surely find it out?
FIRST NEIGHBOUR. 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 NEIGHBOUR. That’s all very well, but even money can’t give much pleasure in the face of such a disgrace.
FIRST NEIGHBOUR. 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 Matryóna from hut.
MATRYÓNA. 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 honourable 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?
MATRYÓNA. 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.
MATRYÓNA. 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 Karmílins, 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 Nikíta into the homestead–of course I know all about it from my son,–and the money was to go to Akoulína. Why, another one might have thought of his own interests, but Nikíta 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!
MATRYÓNA. 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?
MATRYÓNA. 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.
MATRYÓNA. 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, Iván!
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 Anísya] Mother!
ANÍSYA [from inside] What d’you want?
NAN. Mother, come here, or they’ll hear.
Anísya enters and they go together to the shed.
ANÍSYA. Well? What is it? Where’s Akoulína?
NAN. She’s gone into the barn. It’s awful what’s she’s doing there! I’m blest! “I can’t bear it,” she says. “I’ll scream,” she says, “I’ll scream out loud.” Blest if she didn’t.
ANÍSYA. 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 frightened!
ANÍSYA. No fear, she’ll not die. But don’t you go near her. Come along. [Exit Anísya and Nan].
MÍTRITCH [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 Nikíta.
NIKÍTA. Mítritch, you get off to sleep and I’ll put this straight.
MÍTRITCH. All right, you throw it to the sheep. Well, have you seen ’em all off?
NIKÍTA. Yes, they’re off! But things are not right! I don’t know what to do!
MÍTRITCH. It’s a fine mess. But there’s the Foundlings'[6] 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.
[6] The Foundlings’ Hospital in Moscow, where 80 to 90 per cent. of the children die.
NIKÍTA. But mind, Mítritch, don’t go blabbing.
MÍTRITCH. 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].
Nikíta is long silent. Sits down on a sledge.
NIKÍTA. Here’s a go!
Enter Anísya.
ANÍSYA. Where are you?
NIKÍTA. Here.
ANÍSYA. What are you doing there? There’s no time to be lost! We must take it out directly!
NIKÍTA. What are we to do?
ANÍSYA. I’ll tell you what you are to do. And you’ll have to do it!
NIKÍTA. You’d better take it to the Foundlings’–if anything.
ANÍSYA. Then
