Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays. Various
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I do not like to hear jokes about sacred things. One may provoke Heaven to anger.
Ast. Now I get all this row off.
Fomá. You are always afraid of offending Heaven.
Pras. Of course I am. Think what I have at stake. For you it is only a little thing. You have a life of your own on earth; I have none. I have been as good as dead for twenty years, and the only thing that I desire is to get safely to heaven to join my son who is there.
Fomá. We all wish to get to heaven.
Pras. Not so much as I do. If I were in hell it is not the brimstone that would matter; it would be to know that I should not see my son. [Fomá nods].
Ast. I believe it is coming out.
[They all concentrate their attention eagerly on the patience.]
Var. The six and the seven go. Saints preserve us! and the eight. [She takes up a card to move it.]
Ast. No, not that one; leave that.
Var. Where did it come from?
Ast. From here.
Pras. No, from there.
Var. It was from here.
Ast. It is all the same.
Fomá. It will go.
Pras. And the knave from off this row.
Var. The Wolf is going out!
Pras. It is seven years since it went out.
Fomá. Seven years?
Ast. It is out!
Pras. It is done!
Var. [clapping her hands]. Hooray!
Ast. [elated]. Some great good fortune is going to happen.
Var. What can it be? [A pause.]
Pras. And what is the vodka for?
Ast. The vodka?
Pras. You promised to tell me when the patience was done.
Ast. How much money have you saved up for the house on Sasha's tomb?
Pras. Four hundred and six roubles and a few kopecks.
Ast. And Spiridón asks for 500 roubles?
Pras. Five hundred roubles.
Ast. What if he should lower his price?
Pras. He will not lower his price.
Ast. What if he should say that he would take 450 roubles?
Pras. Why, if I went without food for a year.... [Laughing at herself.] If one could but live without food!
Ast. What if he should say that he would take 420 roubles?
Pras. Astéryi Ivanovitch, you know the proverb—the elbow is near, but you cannot bite it. I am old and feeble. I want it now, now, now. Shall I outlive the bitter winter? A shelter to sit in and talk to my son. A monument worthy of such a saint.
Ast. Spiridón has been here.
Pras. Spiridón has been here? What did he say? Tell me!
Ast. He will build it for 400 roubles.
Var. For 400 roubles!
Ast. He will return soon to strike a bargain.
Pras. Is it true?
Ast. As true as that I wear the cross.
Pras. Oh, all the holy saints be praised! Sláva Tebyé Hóspodi! [Kneeling before the eikons.] Oh, my darling Sasha, we will meet in a fine house, you and I, face to face. [She prostrates herself three times before the eikons.]
Var. Then this is the good luck.
Ast. No, this cannot be what the cards told us; for this had happened already before the Wolf came out.
Var. Then there is something else to follow?
Ast. Evidently.
Var. What can it be?
Ast. To-morrow perhaps we shall know.
Pras. [rising]. And in a month I shall have my tomb-house finished, for which I have been waiting twenty years! A little stone house safe against the rain. [Smiling and eager.] There will be a tile stove which I can light: in the middle a stone table and two chairs—one for me and one for my boy when he comes and sits with me, and....
Var. [at the window, shrieking]. Ah! Heaven defend us!
Pras. What is it?
Var. The face! the face!
Pras. The face again?
Fomá. What face?
Var. The face looked in at the window!
Ast. Whose face?
Var. It is the man that we have seen watching us in the cemetery.
Pras. [crossing herself]. Oh, Heaven preserve me from this man!
Fomá. [opening the street door]. There is nobody there.
Ast. This is a false alarm.
Fomá. People who tire their eyes by staring at window-panes at night often see faces looking in through them.
Pras. Oh, Hóspodi!
Ast. Spiridón will be returning soon. Have you the money ready?
Pras. The money? Yes, yes! I will get it ready. It is not here. Come, Varvára. [They put on coats and shawls.]
Ast. If it is in the bank we must wait till the daytime.
Pras. My money in the bank? I am not so foolish. [She lights the lantern.] Get the spade, Varvára. [Varvára goes out and fetches a spade.] It is buried in the field, in a place that no one knows but myself.
Ast. Are you not afraid to go out?
Pras. Afraid? No, I am not afraid.
Fomá. But your supper—you have not eaten your supper.
Pras. How can I think of supper at such a moment?
Fomá. No supper? Oh, what a wonderful thing is a mother's love!
Pras. [to Astéryi and Fomá]. Stay here till we return.
Var. [drawing back]. I am afraid, Praskóvya Petróvna.
Pras. Nonsense, there is nothing to fear.
Fomá. [throwing his coat over his back]. I will go with you to the corner of the street.
Ast. [shuffling the cards]. I must try one for myself.
Fomá. [mockingly]. What's the use? It will never come out.
Ast. [cheerfully]. Oh, it never does to be discouraged.
[Exeunt Praskóvya, Varvára, and Fomá. Astéryi plays patience. Everything is silent and monotonous again. The clock ticks.]
Fomá. [reënters, dancing and singing roguishly to the tune of the Russian folksong, "Vo sadú li v vogoróde"]:
In the shade there walked a maid
As fair as any flower,
Picking posies all of roses
For to deck her bower.
Ast. Don't make such a noise.
Fomá. I can't help it. I'm gay. I have a sympathetic soul. I rejoice with Praskóvya Petróvna. I think she is mad, but I rejoice with her.
Ast.