Redemption and Two Other Plays by Leo Tolstoy et al

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MATRYONA (keeps looking towards the porch while she speaks). Eh,
sonny! Those that are alive have to think about living. One needs
plenty of sense in these matters, honey. What do you think? I've
tramped all over the place after your affairs, I've got quite footsore
bothering about matters. And you must not forget me when the time
comes.

NIKITA. And what's it you've been bothering about?

MATRYONA. About your affairs, about your future. If you don't take
trouble in good time you'll get nothing. You know Ivan Mosevitch?
Well, I've been to him too. I went there the other day. I had
something else to settle, you know. Well, so I sat and chatted awhile
and then came to the point. "Tell me, Ivan Mosevitch," says I, "how's
one to manage an affair of this kind? Supposing," says I, "a peasant
as is a widower married a second wife, and supposing all the children
he has is a daughter by the first wife, and a daughter by the second.
Then," says I, "when that peasant dies, could an outsider get hold of
the homestead by marrying the widow? Could he," says I, "give both the
daughters in marriage and remain master of the house himself?" "Yes,
he could," says he, "but," says he, "it would mean a deal of trouble;
still the thing could be managed by means of money, but if there's no
money it's no good trying."

NIKITA (laughs). That goes without saying, only fork out the money.
Who does not want money?

MATRYONA. Well then, honey, so I spoke out plainly about the affair.
And he says, "First and foremost, your son will have to get himself on
the register of that village--that will cost something. The elders
will have to be treated. And they, you see, they'll sign. Everything,"
says he, "must be done sensibly." Look (unwraps her kerchief and takes
out a paper), he's written out this paper; just read it, you're a
scholar, you know.

[NIKITA reads.

NIKITA. This paper's only a decision for the elders to sign. There's
no great wisdom needed for that.

MATRYONA. But you just hear what Ivan Mosevitch bids us do. "Above
all," he says, "mind and don't let the money slip away, dame. If she
don't get hold of the money," he says, "they'll not let her do it.
Money's the great thing!" So look out, sonny, things are coming to a
head.

NIKITA. What's that to me? The money's hers--so let her look out.

MATRYONA. Ah, sonny, how you look at it! How can a woman manage such
affairs? Even if she does get the money, is she capable of arranging
it all? One knows what a woman is! You're a man anyhow. You can hide
it, and all that. You see, you've after all got more sense, in case of
anything happening.

NIKITA. Oh, your woman's notions are all so inexpedient!

MATRYONA. Why inexpedient? You just collar the money, and the woman's
in your hands. And then should she ever turn snappish you'd be able to
tighten the reins!

NIKITA. Bother you all,--I'm going.

ANISYA (quite pale, runs out of the hut and round the corner to
MATRYONA). So it was, it was on him! Here it is!

[Shows that she has something under her apron.

MATRYONA. Give it to Nikita; he'll hide it. Nikita, take it and hide
it somewhere.

NIKITA. All right, give here!

ANISYA. O--oh, my poor head! No, I'd better do it myself.

[Goes towards the gate.

MATRYONA (seizing her by the arm). Where are you going to? You'll be
missed. There's the sister coming; give it him; he knows what to do.
Eh, you blockhead!

ANISYA (stops irresolutely). Oh, my head, my head!

NIKITA. Well, give it here. I'll shove it away somewhere.

ANISYA. Where will you shove it to?

NIKITA (laughing). Why, are you afraid?

[Enter AKOULINA, carrying clothes from the wash.

ANISYA. O--oh, my poor head! (Gives the money.) Mind, Nikita.

NIKITA. What are you afraid of? I'll hide it so that I'll not be able
to find it myself.

[Exit.

ANISYA (stands in terror). Oh dear, and supposing he....

MATRYONA. Well, is he dead?

ANISYA. Yes, he seems dead. He did not move when I took it.

MATRYONA. Go in, there's Akoulina.

ANISYA. Well there, I've done the sin and he has the money....

MATRYONA. Have done and go in! There's Martha coming!

ANISYA. There now, I've trusted him. What's going to happen now?

[Exit.

Martha (enters from one side, AKOULINA enters from the other. To
AKOULINA). I should have come before, but I was at my daughter's.
Well, how's the old man? Is he dying?

AKOULINA (puts down the clothes). Don't know; I've been to the river.

Martha (pointing to MATRYONA). Who's that?

MATRYONA. I'm from Zouevo. I'm Nikita's mother from Zouevo, my dearie.
Good afternoon to you. He's withering, withering away, poor dear--your
brother, I mean. He came out himself. "Send for my sister," he said,
"because," said he.... Dear me, why, I do believe he's dead!

ANISYA (runs out screaming. Clings to a post, and begins wailing).[4]
Oh, oh, ah! who-o-o-o-m have you left me to, why-y-y have you
dese-e-e-e-rted me--a miserable widow ... to live my life alone....
Why have you closed your bright eyes....

[Enter NEIGHBOR. MATRYONA and NEIGHBOR catch hold of ANISYA under
the arms to support her. AKOULINA and MARTHA go into the hut. A
crowd assembles.

A VOICE IN THE CROWD. Send for the old women to lay out the body.

MATRYONA (rolls up her sleeves). Is there any water in the copper? But
I daresay the samovar is still hot. I'll also go and help a bit.

CURTAIN

ACT III

The same hut. Winter. Nine months have passed since Act II. ANISYA,
plainly dressed, sits before a loom weaving. NAN is on the oven.

MITRITCH (an old laborer, enters and slowly takes off his outdoor
things). Oh Lord, have mercy! Well, hasn't the master come home yet?

ANISYA. What?

MITRITCH. Nikita isn't back from town, is he?

ANISYA. No.

MITRITCH. Must have been on the spree. Oh Lord!

ANISYA. Have you finished in the stackyard?

MITRITCH. What d'you think? Got it all as it should be, and covered
everything with straw! I don't like doing things by halves! Oh Lord!
holy Nicholas! (Picks at the corns on his hands.) But it's time he was
back.

ANISYA. What need has he to hurry? He's got money. Merry-making with
that girl, I daresay....

MITRITCH. Why shouldn't one make merry if one has the money? And why
did Akoulina go to town?

ANISYA. You'd better ask her. How do I know what the devil took her
there!

MITRITCH. What! to town? There's all sorts of things to be got in town
if one's got the means. Oh Lord!

NAN. Mother, I heard myself. "I'll get you a little shawl," he says,
blest if he didn't; "you shall choose it yourself," he says. And she
got herself up so fine; she put on her velveteen coat and the French
shawl.

ANISYA. Really, a girl's modesty reaches only to the door. Step over
the threshold and it's forgotten. She is a shameless creature.

MITRITCH. Oh my! What's the use of being ashamed? While there's plenty
of money make merry. Oh Lord! It is too soon to have supper, eh?
(ANISYA does not answer.) I'll go and get warm meanwhile. (Climbs on
the stove.) Oh, Lord! Blessed Virgin Mother! Holy Nicholas!

NEIGHBOR (enters). Seems your good man's not back yet?

ANISYA. No.

NEIGHBOR. It's time he was. Hasn't he perhaps stopped at our inn? My
sister, Thekla, says there's heaps of sledges standing there as have
come from the town.

ANISYA. Nan! Nan, I say!

NAN. Yes?

ANISYA. You run to the inn and see! Mayhap, being drunk, he's gone
there.

NAN (jumps down from the oven and dresses). All right.

NEIGHBOR. And he's taken Akoulina with him?

ANISYA. Else he'd not have had any need of going. It's because of her
he's unearthed all the business there. "Must go to the bank," he says;
"it's time to receive the payments," he says. But it's all her
fooling.

NEIGHBOR (shakes her head). It's a bad look-out.

[Silence.

NAN (at the door). And if he's there, what am I to say?

ANISYA. You only see if he's there.

NAN. All right. I'll be back in a winking.

[Long silence.

MITRITCH (roars). Oh Lord! merciful Nicholas!

NEIGHBOR (starting). Oh, how he scared me! Who is it?

ANISYA. Why, Mitritch, our laborer.

NEIGHBOR. Oh dear, oh dear, what a fright he did give me! I had quite
forgotten. But tell me, dear, I've heard some one's been wooing
Akoulina?

ANISYA (gets up from the loom and sits down by the table). There was
some one from Dedlovo; but it seems the affair's got wind there too.
They made a start, and then stopped; so the thing fell through. Of
course, who'd care to?

NEIGHBOR. And the Lizounofs from Zouevo?

ANISYA. They made some steps too, but it didn't come off either. They
won't even see us.

NEIGHBOR. Yet it's time she was married.

ANISYA. Time and more than time! Ah, my dear, I'm that impatient to
get her out of the house; but the matter does not come off. He does
not wish it, nor she either. He's not yet had enough of his beauty,
you see.

NEIGHBOR. Eh, eh, eh, what doings! Only think of it. Why, he's her
step-father!

ANISYA. Ah, friend, they've taken me in completely. They've done me so
fine it's beyond saying. I, fool that I was, noticed nothing,
suspected nothing, and so I married him. I guessed nothing, but they
already understood one another.

NEIGHBOR. Oh dear, what goings on!

ANISYA. So it went on from bad to worse, and I see they begin hiding
from me. Ah, friend, I was that sick--that sick of my life! It's not
as if I didn't love him.

NEIGHBOR. That goes without saying.

ANISYA. Ah, how hard it is to bear such treatment from him! Oh, how it
hurts!

NEIGHBOR. Yes, and I've heard say he's becoming too free with his
fists?

ANISYA. And that too! There was a time when he was gentle when he'd
had a drop. He used to hit out before, but of me he was always fond!
But now when he's in a temper he goes for me and is ready to trample
me under his feet. The other day he got both my hands entangled in my
hair so that I could hardly get away. And the girl's worse than a
serpent; it's a wonder the earth bears such furies.

NEIGHBOR. Ah, ah, my dear, now I look at you, you are a sufferer! To
suffer like that is no joke. To have given shelter to a beggar, and he
to lead you such a dance! Why don't you pull in the reins?

ANISYA. Ah, but, my dear, if it weren't for my heart! Him as is gone
was stern enough, still I could twist him about any way I liked; but
with this one I can do nothing. As soon as I see him all my anger
goes. I haven't a grain of courage before him; I go about like a
drowned hen.

NEIGHBOR. Ah, neighbor, you must be under a spell. I've heard that
Matryona goes in for that sort of thing. It must be her.

ANISYA. Yes, dear; I think so myself sometimes. Gracious me, how hurt
I feel at times! I'd like to tear him to pieces. But when I set eyes
on him, my heart won't go against him.

NEIGHBOR. It's plain you're bewitched. It don't take long to blight a
body. There now, when I look at you, what you have dwindled to!

ANISYA. Growing a regular spindle-shanks. And just look at that fool
Akoulina. Wasn't the girl a regular untidy slattern, and just look at
her now! Where has it all come from? Yes, he has fitted her out. She's
grown so smart, so puffed up, just like a bubble that's ready to
burst. And, though she's a fool, she's got it into her head. "I'm the
mistress," she says; "the house is mine; it's me father wanted him to
marry." And she's that vicious! Lord help us, when she gets into a
rage she's ready to tear the thatch off the house.

NEIGHBOR. Oh dear, what a life yours is, now I come to look at you.
And yet there's people envying you: "They're rich," they say; but it
seems that gold don't keep tears from falling.

ANISYA. Much reason for envy indeed! And the riches, too, will soon be
made ducks and drakes of. Dear me, how he squanders money!

NEIGHBOR. But how's it, dear, you've been so simple to give up the
money? It's yours.

ANISYA. Ah, if you knew all! The thing is that I've made one little
mistake.

NEIGHBOR. Well, if I were you, I'd go straight and have the law of
him. The money's yours; how dare he squander it? There's no such
rights.

ANISYA. They don't pay heed to that nowadays.

NEIGHBOR. Ah, my dear, now I come to look at you, you've got that
weak. Anisya. Yes, quite weak, dear, quite weak. He's got me into a
regular fix. I don't myself know anything. Oh, my poor head!

NEIGHBOR (listening). There's some one coming, I think.

[The door opens and AKIM enters.

AKIM (crosses himself, knocks the snow off his feet, and takes off his
coat). Peace be to this house! How do you do? Are you well, daughter?

ANISYA. How d'you do, father? Do you come straight from home?

AKIM. I've been a-thinking I'll go and see what's name, go to see my
son, I mean,--my son. I didn't start early--had my dinner, I mean; I
went, and it's so what d'you call it--so snowy, hard walking, and so
there I'm what d'you call it--late, I mean. And my son--is he at home?
At home? My son, I mean.

ANISYA. No; he's gone to the town.

AKIM (sits down on a bench). I've some business with him, d'you see,
some business, I mean. I told him t'other day, told him I was in need
--told him, I mean, that our horse was done for, our horse, you see. So
we must what d'ye call it, get a horse, I mean, some kind of a horse,
I mean. So there, I've come, you see.

ANISYA. Nikita told me. When he comes back you'll have a talk. (Goes
to the oven.) Have some supper now, and he'll soon come. Mitritch, eh,
Mitritch, come have your supper.

MITRITCH. Oh Lord! merciful Nicholas!

ANISYA. Come to supper.

NEIGHBOR. I shall go now. Good-night.

[Exit.

MITRITCH (gets down from the oven). I never noticed how I fell asleep.
Oh, Lord! gracious Nicholas! How d'you do, Daddy Akim?

AKIM. Ah, Mitritch! What are you, what d'ye call it, I mean?...

MITRITCH. Why, I'm working for your son, Nikita.

AKIM. Dear me! What d'ye call ... working for my son, I mean. Dear me!

MITRITCH. I was living with a tradesman in town, but drank all I had
there. Now I've come back to the village. I've no home, so I've gone
into service. (Gapes.) Oh Lord!

AKIM. But how's that, what d'you call it, or what's name, Nikita, what
does he do? Has he some business, I mean besides, that he should hire
a laborer, a laborer, I mean, hire a laborer?

ANISYA. What business should he have? He used to manage, but now he's
other things on his mind, so he's hired a laborer.

MITRITCH. Why shouldn't he, seeing he has money?

AKIM. Now that's what d'you call it, that's wrong, I mean, quite
wrong, I mean. That's spoiling oneself.

ANISYA. Oh, he has got spoilt, that spoilt, it's just awful.

AKIM. There now, what d'you call it, one thinks how to make things
better, and it gets worse I mean. Riches spoil a man, spoil, I mean.

MITRITCH. Fatness makes even a dog go mad; how's one not to get spoilt
by fat living? Myself now; how I went on with fat living. I drank for
three weeks without being sober. I drank my last breeches. When I had
nothing left, I gave it up. Now I've determined not to. Bother it!

AKIM. And where's what d'you call, your old woman?

MITRITCH. My old woman has found her right place, old fellow. She's
hanging about the gin-shops in town. She's a swell too; one eye
knocked out, and the other black, and her muzzle twisted to one side.
And she's never sober; drat her!

AKIM. Oh, oh, oh, how's that?

MITRITCH. And where's a soldier's wife to go? She has found her right
place.

[Silence.

AKIM (to ANISYA). And Nikita,--has he what d'you call it, taken
anything up to town? I mean, anything to sell?

ANISYA (laying the table and serving up). No, he's taken nothing. He's
gone to get money from the bank.

AKIM (sitting down to supper). Why? D'you wish to put it to another
use, the money I mean?

ANISYA. No, we don't touch it. Only some twenty or thirty roubles as
have come due; they must be taken.

AKIM. Must be taken. Why take it, the money I mean? You'll take some
to-day I mean, and some to-morrow; and so you'll what d'you call it,
take it all, I mean.

ANISYA. We get this besides. The money is all safe.

AKIM. All safe? How's that, safe? You take it, and it what d'you call
it, it's all safe. How's that? You put a heap of meal into a bin, or a
barn, I mean, and go on taking meal, will it remain there, what d'you
call it, all safe, I mean? That's, what d'you call it, it's cheating.
You'd better find out, or else they'll cheat you. Safe indeed! I mean
you what d'ye call ... you take it and it remains all safe there?

ANISYA. I know nothing about it. Ivan Mosevitch advised us at the
time. "Put the money in the bank," he said, "the money will be safe,
and you'll get interest," he said.

MITRITCH (having finished his supper). That's so. I've lived with a
tradesman. They all do like that. Put the money in the bank, then lie
down on the oven and it will keep coming in.

AKIM. That's queer talk. How's that--what d'ye call, coming in, how's
that coming in, and they, who do they get it from I mean, the money I
mean?

ANISYA. They take the money out of the bank.

MITRITCH. Get along! Tain't a thing a woman can understand! You look
here, I'll make it all clear to you. Mind and remember. You see,
suppose you've got some money, and I, for instance, have spring coming
on, my land's idle, I've got no seeds, or I have to pay taxes. So, you
see, I go to you. "Akim," I say, "give us a ten-rouble note, and when
I've harvested in autumn I'll return it, and till two acres for you
besides, for having obliged me!" And you, seeing I've something to
fall back on--a horse say, or a cow--you say, "No, give two or three
roubles for the obligation," and there's an end of it. I'm stuck in
the mud, and can't do without. So I say, "All right!" and take a
tenner. In the autumn, when I've made my turnover, I bring it back,
and you squeeze the extra three roubles out of me.

AKIM. Yes, but that's what peasants do when they what d'ye call it,
when they forget God. It's not honest, I mean, it's no good, I mean.

MITRITCH. You wait. You'll see it comes just to the same thing. Now
don't forget how you've skinned me. And Anisya, say, has got some
money lying idle. She does not know what to do with it, besides, she's
a woman, and does not know how to use it. She comes to you. "Couldn't
you make some profit with my money too?" she says. "Why not?" say you,
and you wait. Before the summer I come again and say, "Give me another
tenner, and I'll be obliged." Then you find out if my hide isn't all
gone, and if I can be skinned again you give me Anisya's money. But
supposing I'm clean shorn,--have nothing to eat,--then you see I can't
be fleeced any more, and you say, "Go your way, friend," and you look
out for another, and lend him your own and Anisya's money and skin
him. That's what the bank is. So it goes round and round. It's a cute
thing, old fellow!

AKIM (excitedly). Gracious me, whatever is that like? It's what d'ye
call it, it's filthy! The peasants--what d'ye call it, the peasants do
so I mean, and know it's, what d'ye call it, a sin! It's what d'you
call, not right, not right, I mean. It's filthy! How can people as
have learnt ... what d'ye call it....

MITRITCH. That, old fellow, is just what they're fond off And
remember, them that are stupid, or the women folk, as can't put their
money into use themselves, they take it to the bank, and they there,
deuce take 'em, clutch hold of it, and with this money they fleece the
people. It's a cute thing!

AKIM (sighing). Oh dear, I see, what d'ye call it, without money it's
bad, and with money it's worse! How's that? God told us to work, but
you, what d'you call ... I mean you put money into the bank and go to
sleep, and the money will what d'ye call it, will feed you while you
sleep. It's filthy, that's what I call it; it's not right.

MITRITCH. Not right? Eh, old fellow, who cares about that nowadays? And
how clean they pluck you, too! That's the fact of the matter.

AKIM (sighs). Ah, yes, seems the time's what d'ye call it, the time's
growing ripe. There, I've had a look at the closets in town. What
they've come to! It's all polished and polished I mean, it's fine,
it's what d'ye call it, it's like inside an inn. And what's it all
for? What's the good of it? Oh, they've forgotten God. Forgotten, I
mean. We've forgotten, forgotten God, God, I mean! Thank you, my dear,
I've had enough. I'm quite satisfied.

[Rises. MITRITCH climbs on to the oven.

ANISYA (eats, and collects the dishes). If his father would only take
him to task! But I'm ashamed to tell him.

AKIM. What d'you say?

ANISYA. Oh! it's nothing.

[Enter NAN.

AKIM. Here's a good girl, always busy! You're cold, I should think?

NAN. Yes, I am, terribly. How d'you do, grandfather?

ANISYA. Well? Is he there?

NAN. No. But Andriyan is there. He's been to town, and he says he saw
them at an inn in town. He says Dad's as drunk as drunk can be!

ANISYA. Do you want anything to eat? Here you are.

NAN (goes to the oven). Well, it is cold. My hands are quite numb.

[AKIM takes off his leg-bands and bast-shoes. ANISYA washes up.

ANISYA. Father!

AKIM. Well, what is it?

ANISYA. And is Marina living well?

AKIM. Yes, she's living all right. The little woman is what d'ye call
it, clever and steady; she's living, and what d'ye call it, doing her
best. She's all right; the little woman's of the right sort I mean;
painstaking and what d'ye call it, submissive; the little woman's all
right I mean, all right, you know.

ANISYA. And is there no talk in your village that a relative of
Marina's husband thinks of marrying our Akoulina? Have you heard
nothing of it?

AKIM. Ah; that's Mironof. Yes, the women did chatter something. But I
didn't pay heed, you know. It don't interest me I mean, I don't know
anything. Yes, the old women did say something, but I've a bad memory,
bad memory, I mean. But the Mironofs are what d'ye call it, they're
all right, I mean they're all right.

ANISYA. I'm that impatient to get her settled.

AKIM. And why?

NAN (listens). They've come!

ANISYA. Well, don't you go bothering them.

[Goes on washing the spoons without turning her head.

NIKITA (enters). Anisya! Wife! who has come?

[ANISYA looks up and turns away in silence.

NIKITA (severely). Who has come? Have you forgotten?

ANISYA. Now don't humbug. Come in!

NIKITA (still more severely). Who's come?

ANISYA (goes up and takes him by the arm). Well, then, husband has
come. Now then, come in!

NIKITA (holds back). Ah, that's it! Husband! And what's husband
called? Speak properly.

ANISYA. Oh bother you! Nikita!

NIKITA. Where have you learnt manners? The full name.

ANISYA. Nikita Akimitch! Now then!

NIKITA. (still in the doorway). Ah, that's it! But now--the surname?

ANISYA (laughs and pulls him by the arm). Tchilikin. Dear me, what
airs!

NIKITA. Ah, that's it. (Holds on to the door-post.) No, now say with
which foot Tchilikin steps into this house!

ANISYA. That's enough! You're letting the cold in!

NIKITA. Say with which foot he steps? You've got to say it,--that's
flat.

ANISYA (aside). He'll go on worrying. (To NIKITA.) Well then, with the
left. Come in!

NIKITA. Ah, that's it.

ANISYA. You look who's in the hut!

NIKITA. Ah, my parent! Well, what of that? I'm not ashamed of my
parent. I can pay my respects to my parent. How d'you do, father?
(Bows and puts out his hand.) My respects to you.

AKIM (does not answer). Drink, I mean drink, what it does! It's
filthy!

NIKITA. Drink, what's that? I've been drinking? I'm to blame, that's
flat! I've had a glass with a friend, drank his health.

ANISYA. Go and lie down, I say.

NIKITA. Wife, say where am I standing?

ANISYA. Now then, it's all right, lie down!

NIKITA. No, I'll first drink a samovar with my parent. Go and light
the samovar. Akoulina, I say, come here!

[Enter AKOULINA, smartly dressed and carrying their purchases.

AKOULINA. Why have you thrown everything about? Where's the yarn?

NIKITA. The yarn? The yarn's there. Hullo, Mitritch, where are you?
Asleep? Asleep? Go and put the horse up.

AKIM (not seeing AKOULINA but looking at his son). Dear me, what is he
doing? The old man's what d'ye call it, quite done up, I mean,--been
thrashing,--and look at him, what d'ye call it, putting on airs! Put
up the horse! Faugh, what filth!

MITRITCH (climbs down from the oven, and puts on felt boots). Oh,
merciful Lord! Is the horse in the yard? Done it to death, I dare say.
Just see how he's been swilling, the deuce take him. Up to his very
throat. Oh Lord, Holy Nicholas!

[Puts on sheepskin and exit.

NIKITA (sits down). You must forgive me, father. It's true I've had a
drop; well, what of that? Even a hen will drink. Ain't it true? So you
must forgive me. Never mind Mitritch, he doesn't mind, he'll put it
up.

ANISYA. Shall I really light the samovar?

NIKITA. Light it! My parent has come. I wish to talk to him, and shall
drink tea with him. (To AKOULINA.) Have you brought all the parcels?

AKOULINA. The parcels? I've brought mine, the rest's in the sledge.
Hi, take this, this isn't mine!

[Throws a parcel on the table and puts the others into her box.
NAN watches her while she puts them away. AKIM does not look at
his son, but puts his leg-bands and bast-shoes on the oven.

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