The Power of Darkness. Лев Николаевич Толстой
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The Power of Darkness
CHARACTERS
PETER IGNÁTITCH. A well-to-do peasant, 42 years old, married for the second time, and sickly.
ANÍSYA. His wife, 32 years old, fond of dress.
AKOULÍNA. Peter's daughter by his first marriage, 16 years old, hard of hearing, mentally undeveloped.
NAN (ANNA PETRÓVNA). His daughter by his second marriage, 10 years old.
NIKÍTA. Their labourer, 26 years old, fond of dress.
AKÍM. Nikíta's father, 50 years old, a plain-looking, God-fearing peasant.
MATRYÓNA. His wife and Nikíta's mother, 50 years old.
MARÍNA. An orphan girl, 22 years old.
MARTHA. Peter's sister.
MÍTRITCH. An old labourer, ex-soldier.
SIMON. Marína's husband.
BRIDEGROOM. Engaged to Akoulína.
IVÁN. His father.
A NEIGHBOUR.
FIRST GIRL.
SECOND GIRL.
POLICE OFFICER.
DRIVER.
BEST-MAN.
MATCHMAKER.
VILLAGE ELDER.
VISITORS, WOMEN, GIRLS, AND PEOPLE come to see the wedding.
N.B.– The ‘oven’ mentioned is the usual large, brick, Russian baking-oven. The top of it outside is flat, so that more than one person can lie on it.
ACT I
The Act takes place in autumn in a large village. The Scene represents Peter's roomy hut. Peter is sitting on a wooden bench, mending a horse-collar. Anísya and Akoulína are spinning, and singing a part-song.
PETER [looking out of the window] The horses have got loose again. If we don't look out they'll be killing the colt. Nikíta! Hey, Nikíta! Is the fellow deaf? [Listens. To the women] Shut up, one can't hear anything.
NIKÍTA [from outside] What?
PETER. Drive the horses in.
NIKÍTA. We'll drive 'em in. All in good time.
PETER [shaking his head] Ah, these labourers! If I were well, I'd not keep one on no account. There's nothing but bother with 'em. [Rises and sits down again] Nikíta!.. It's no good shouting. One of you'd better go. Go, Akoúl, drive 'em in.
AKOULÍNA. What? The horses?
PETER. What else?
AKOULÍNA. All right. [Exit].
PETER. Ah, but he's a loafer, that lad … no good at all. Won't stir a finger if he can help it.
ANÍSYA. You're so mighty brisk yourself. When you're not sprawling on the top of the oven you're squatting on the bench. To goad others to work is all you're fit for.
PETER. If one weren't to goad you on a bit, one'd have no roof left over one's head before the year's out. Oh what people!
ANÍSYA. You go shoving a dozen jobs on to one's shoulders, and then do nothing but scold. It's easy to lie on the oven and give orders.
PETER [sighing] Oh, if 'twere not for this sickness that's got hold of me, I'd not keep him on another day.
AKOULÍNA [off the scene] Gee up, gee, woo. [A colt neighs, the stamping of horses' feet and the creaking of the gate are heard].
PETER. Bragging, that's what he's good at. I'd like to sack him, I would indeed.
ANÍSYA [mimicking him] “Like to sack him.” You buckle to yourself, and then talk.
AKOULÍNA [enters] It's all I could do to drive 'em in. That piebald always will …
PETER. And where's Nikíta?
AKOULÍNA. Where's Nikíta? Why, standing out there in the street.
PETER. What's he standing there for?
AKOULÍNA. What's he standing there for? He stands there jabbering.
PETER. One can't get any sense out of her! Who's he jabbering with?
AKOULÍNA [does not hear] Eh, what?
Peter waves her off. She sits down to her spinning.
NAN [running in to her mother] Nikíta's father and mother have come. They're going to take him away. It's true!
ANÍSYA. Nonsense!
NAN. Yes. Blest if they're not! [Laughing] I was just going by, and Nikíta, he says, “Good-bye, Anna Petróvna,” he says, “you must come and dance at my wedding. I'm leaving you,” he says, and laughs.
ANÍSYA [to her husband] There now. Much he cares. You see, he wants to leave of himself. “Sack him” indeed!
PETER. Well, let him go. Just as if I couldn't find somebody else.
ANÍSYA. And what about the money he's had in advance?
Nan stands listening at the door for awhile, and then exit.
PETER [frowning] The money? Well, he can work it off in summer, anyhow.
ANÍSYA. Well, of course you'll be glad if he goes and you've not got to feed him. It's only me as'll have to work like a horse all the winter. That lass of yours isn't over fond of work either. And you'll be lying up on the oven. I know you.
PETER. What's the good of wearing out one's tongue before one has the hang of the matter?
ANÍSYA. The yard's full of cattle. You've not sold the cow, and have kept all the sheep for the winter: feeding and watering 'em alone takes all one's time, and you want to sack the labourer. But I tell you straight, I'm not going to do a man's work! I'll go and lie on the top of the oven same as you, and let everything go to pot! You may do what you like.
PETER [to Akoulína] Go and see about the feeding, will you? it's time.
AKOULÍNA. The feeding? All right. [Puts on a coat and takes a rope].
ANÍSYA. I'm not going to work for you. You go and work yourself. I've had enough of it, so there!
PETER. That'll do. What are you raving about? Like a sheep with the staggers!
ANÍSYA. You're a crazy cur, you are! One gets neither work nor pleasure from you. Eating your fill, that's all you do, you palsied cur, you!
PETER [spits and puts on coat] Faugh! The Lord have mercy! I'd better go myself and see what's up. [Exit].
ANÍSYA [after him] Scurvy long-nosed devil!
AKOULÍNA. What are you swearing at dad for?
ANÍSYA. Hold your noise, you idiot!
AKOULÍNA [going to the door] I know why you're swearing at him. You're an idiot yourself, you bitch. I'm not afraid of you.
ANÍSYA. What do you mean? [Jumps up and looks round for something to hit her with] Mind, or I'll give you one with the poker.
AKOULÍNA [opening the door] Bitch! devil! that's what you are! Devil! bitch! bitch! devil! [Runs off].
ANÍSYA [ponders] “Come and dance at my wedding!” What new plan is this? Marry? Mind, Nikíta, if that's your intention, I'll go and … No, I can't live without him. I won't let him go.
NIKÍTA [enters, looks round, and seeing Anísya alone approaches quickly. In a low tone] Here's a go; I'm in a regular fix! That governor of mine wants to take me away, – tells me I'm to come home. Says quite straight I'm to marry and live at home.
ANÍSYA. Well, go and marry! What's that to me?
NIKÍTA. Is that it? Why, here am I reckoning how best to consider matters,