The Russian Masters: Works by Dostoevsky, Chekhov, Tolstoy, Pushkin, Gogol, Turgenev and More. Максим ГорькийЧитать онлайн книгу.
as an acrobat.
SAVVA (glumly)
Don't talk nonsense.
LIPA
Are you offended?
SAVVA (suddenly bursting into a good-natured, merry laugh) Oh, a trifle! All right, the circus, why not? We'll both join it, Speransky and I. Not as acrobats though, but as clowns. How about it? Can you swallow hot junk? No? Well, I'll teach you. As for you, Lipa, won't you please let me have something to eat? I haven't had anything since this morning.
YEGOR
A regular Satan, a regular Satan! Hasn't had anything to eat! Who has ever heard of eating at this hour of the night? Who has ever seen such a thing?
SAVVA
I'll give you a chance to see it now. It's very interesting. Wait,
I'll teach you also how to swallow hot junk. I'll make you an expert.
You'll be a wonder.
YEGOR
Me? Fool, you can't teach me anything any more. Tony, give me the whiskey.
TONY
I won't.
YEGOR
The devil take you all! Brought up and fed a lot of—(Exit)
LIPA (handing him milk and dark bread)
You seem to be happy to-night?
SAVVA
Yes, I am, and you are happy too.
LIPA (laughing)
I am.
SAVVA
And I am happy. (He drinks the milk with avidity; the footsteps in the street grow louder, filing the room with their sound, and then die away again) What a treading and a tramping!
LIPA (looking out of the window)
The weather will be fine to-morrow. As long as I can remember the sun has always been shining brightly that way.
SAVVA
Hm, yes. That's good.
LIPA
And when they carry the ikon, it sparkles all over with the precious stones like fire. Only His face remains gloomy. All the gems don't give him any pleasure. He is sad and gloomy like the people's woe.
SAVVA (coolly)
Hm, yes. Is that so?
LIPA
Just think how many tears have fallen upon Him, how many sighs and groans He has heard! That alone is enough to make the ikon holy for all who love and sympathize with the people and understand their soul. Why, they have nobody except Christ, all those unfortunate, miserable people. When I was a little girl, I was always waiting for a miracle—
SAVVA
It would be interesting.
LIPA
But now I understand that He Himself is waiting for a miracle from the people. He is waiting for the people to stop fighting, hating, and destroying each other.
SAVVA
Well, what of it?
LIPA (fixing her gaze upon him)
Nothing. To-morrow you'll see for yourself when they carry Him in the procession. You'll see what effect the mere consciousness that He is there with them has upon them, how it transforms them, what it does to them. The whole year round they live a dog's life, in filth, quarrelling with each other, suffering. On that day all the ugliness seems to vanish. It is an awful and a joyous day when suddenly you cast away from yourself all that is superfluous and when you feel so clearly your nearness to all the unfortunates that are and ever were, and your nearness to God.
SAVVA (abruptly)
What time is it?
SPERANSKY
The clock has just struck a quarter past eleven, if I am not mistaken.
LIPA
It's still early.
SAVVA
Early for what?
LIPA
Nothing. It's still early, that's all.
SAVVA (suspiciously)
What do you mean?
LIPA (defiantly)
What I mean.
SAVVA
Why did you say it's still early?
LIPA (paling)
Because it's only a little after eleven; but when it's twelve—
SAVVA (jumping up and going to her quickly; fixing her with his stare, he speaks slowly, pronouncing every word separately and distinctly) So? Is that it? When it's twelve—(He turns to Speransky without removing his eyes from Lipa) Listen, you go home.
LIPA (frightened)
No, stay, Mr. Speransky. Please stay, I beg you.
SAVVA
If you don't go at once, I'll throw you out of the window. Well?
SPERANSKY
Excuse me, I never had the faintest idea—I was here with Mr. Anthony Tropinin. I am going instantly. Where is my hat? I put it here somewhere—
SAVVA
There's your hat. (Throws it to him)
LIPA (feebly)
Stay here awhile longer, Mr. Speransky. Sit down.
SPERANSKY
No, it's late. I must go to bed. Good night, Miss Olympiada. Good night, Mr. Tropinin. Your brother is asleep already, I believe. You ought to take him to bed. I'm going, I'm going. (Exit)
SAVVA (speaking in a quiet, calm tone; his movements are heavy and slow, as if his body had suddenly stiffened) You know it?
LIPA
I do.
SAVVA
You know all?
LIPA
All.
SAVVA
Did the monk tell you?
LIPA
He did.
SAVVA
Well?
LIPA (drawing back a little, and raising her hand for protection)-Well, nothing will happen. There'll be no blowing up. You understand, Savva, there'll be no explosion.
[Pause. Footsteps are heard in the street, and indistinct talking. Savva turns around. Stooping more than usually, he takes a turn around the room with peculiar slowness.
SAVVA
Well?
LIPA
Then you had better believe me, brother. Believe me.
SAVVA
Yes?
LIPA
Why that was—I don't know what it was—it was a piece of madness.
Think it over.
SAVVA
Is it really true?
LIPA
Yes, it's true. It's all over. You can't help it any more. There is nothing for you to do.
SAVVA
Tell