The Russian Masters: Works by Dostoevsky, Chekhov, Tolstoy, Pushkin, Gogol, Turgenev and More. Максим Горький
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Well, I will play.
LIPA
When you talk like that I have the feeling once more that it has all been a dream—all that we were saying just now. Is it really true that you want to kill me?
SAVVA
Yes, if it must be done. But perhaps it won't be necessary.
LIPA
You are joking!
SAVVA
Every one of you will have it that I am joking. You keep constantly telling me so. You seem to have utterly lost the sense for what is serious.
LIPA
No, it's not a dream. They are going.
SAVVA
Yes, they are going. (Both listen)
LIPA
You still seem to believe. What do you believe?
SAVVA
I believe in my destiny. (The hour begins to strike in the belfry of the monastery) Twelve.
LIPA (counting)
Seven—eight—and to think that this is the hour when it should have happened—the very idea of it—(A muffled report as of a powerful explosion is heard) What was that?
SAVVA
Yes, what was it?
[Both rush to the window, waking Tony, who moves his head sleepily. The tread of the footsteps in the street stops momentarily. Then all begin to run. Frightened cries are heard, weeping, loud, abrupt ejaculations of "What's the matter?" "Oh, Lord!" "Fire, fire!" "No, something has fallen down!" "Let's run!" The word "monastery" is frequently heard.
TONY
They are running! Where are they running to? Why is nobody here?
PELAGUEYA (entering the room, half dressed)
Oh, Lord! Oh, heavens! Is it possible the monastery is on fire! Good gracious! Heavens! And you here, you drunken sot! You monster!
TONY
Oho! They are running? Faces, mugs, eh?
[The bell begins to toll the alarm. Then the strokes follow each other in more rapid succession; hasty, disquieting, uneven, they blend with the noise of the street and seem to creep through the window.
PELAGUEYA (crying)
Good God, I don't know where to turn.
[She runs out. The cries in the street grow louder. Someone yells in one prolonged note "Oh-oh-oh!" until the sound is drowned in the general noise, excitement, and ringing.
LIPA (moving away from the window, very pale, stupefied) What does it mean? It cannot be. It is impossible. Tony, Tony, get up. Tony, brother, what does it mean? Tony!
TONY (reassuringly)
It's nothing. They are all faces.
SAVVA (leaving the window, calm and stern, but also pale) Well, sister?
LIPA (flinging herself about the room)
I want to run with the rest. I'll run. Where is my scarf? Where is my scarf? My God, My God! Where is my scarf?
SAVVA
Your scarf? There it is. But I won't give it to you. Sit down; you have nothing to do there.
LIPA
Let me have it.
SAVVA
No, sit down, sit down. It's too late now anyway.
LIPA
Too late?
SAVVA
Yes, too late. Don't you hear the noise the crowd is making and the way they are running and pushing?
LIPA
I'll run, I'll run.
SAVVA
Keep still—sit down. (Forces her to sit down) Tony, did you hear? They've exploded God.
TONY (looking at Savva's face in terror)
Savva, don't make me laugh. Turn your face away.
[Savva smiles and walks around the room with buoyant step, without his usual stoop.
LIPA (faintly)
Savva.
SAVVA
What is it? Speak louder.
LIPA
Is it, really true?
SAVVA
It's true.
LIPA
And doesn't He really exist?
SAVVA
He does not.
[Lipa begins to cry, at first low, then more and more loudly. The sound of the ringing bells and the noise of the crowd continue to swell. The rolling and clatter of wagons is also heard.
SAVVA
They are running. My, how they are running! (Lipa says something, but her words are inaudible) Louder. I can't hear you. My, how they are ringing.
LIPA (aloud)
Kill, me, Savva.
SAVVA
Why? You'll die anyhow.
LIPA
I can't wait. I'll kill myself.
SAVVA
Go ahead, kill yourself, kill yourself quick!
[Lipa cries, burying her head in the armchair Tony, his face distorted with fear, looks at Savva, holding both his hands in readiness at his mouth. Loud peals of the bell. The disquieting sound blends with the loud tone of Savva's speech.
SAVVA (shouting)
Ah! They are ringing. Ring on! Ring on! Soon the whole earth will ring. I hear! I hear!