KUSMA. Forgive me, your honour, I’m only telling them a little … what does it matter, anyway. … I’m shaking all over. Pour out some more. [Drinks.]
MERIK. [In a semitone] And did she love him?
KUSMA. [In a semitone which gradually becomes his ordinary voice] How shouldn’t she? He was a man of means. … Of course you’ll fall in love when the man has a thousand dessiatins and money to burn. … He was a solid, dignified, sober gentleman … always the same, like this … give me your hand [Takes MERIK’S hand] “How do you do and good-bye, do me the favour.” Well, I was going one evening past his garden—and what a garden, brother, versts of it—I was going along quietly, and I look and see the two of them sitting on a seat and kissing each other. [Imitates the sound] He kisses her once, and the snake gives him back two. … He was holding her white, little hand, and she was all fiery and kept on getting closer and closer, too. … “I love you,” she says. And he, like one of the damned, walks about from one place to another and brags, the coward, about his happiness. … Gives one man a rouble, and two to another. … Gives me money for a horse. Let off everybody’s debts. …
BORTSOV. Oh, why tell them all about it? These people haven’t any sympathy. … It hurts!
KUSMA. It’s nothing, sir! They asked me! Why shouldn’t I tell them? But if you are angry I won’t … I won’t. … What do I care for them. … [Post-bells are heard.]
FEDYA. Don’t shout; tell us quietly. …
KUSMA. I’ll tell you quietly. … He doesn’t want me to, but it can’t be helped. … But there’s nothing more to tell. They got married, that’s all. There was nothing else. Pour out another drop for Kusma the stony! [Drinks] I don’t like people getting drunk! Why the time the wedding took place, when the gentlefolk sat down to supper afterwards, she went off in a carriage … [Whispers] To the town, to her lover, a lawyer. … Eh? What do you think of her now? Just at the very moment! She would be let off lightly if she were killed for it!
MERIK. [Thoughtfully] Well … what happened then?
KUSMA. He went mad. … As you see, he started with a fly, as they say, and now it’s grown to a bumble-bee. It was a fly then, and now—it’s a bumble-bee. … And he still loves her. Look at him, he loves her! I expect he’s walking now to the town to get a glimpse of her with one eye. … He’ll get a glimpse of her, and go back. …
[The post has driven up to the in.. The POSTMAN enters and has a drink.]
TIHON. The post’s late to-day!
[The POSTMAN pays in silence and goes out. The post drives off, the bells ringing.]
A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. One could rob the post in weather like this—easy as spitting.
MERIK. I’ve been alive thirty-five years and I haven’t robbed the post once. … [Pause] It’s gone now … too late, too late. …
KUSMA. Do you want to smell the inside of a prison?
MERIK. People rob and don’t go to prison. And if I do go! [Suddenly] What else?
KUSMA. Do you mean that unfortunate?
MERIK. Who else?
KUSMA. The second reason, brothers, why he was ruined was because of his brother-in-law, his sister’s husband. … He took it into his head to stand surety at the bank for 30,000 roubles for his brother-in-law. The brother-in-law’s a thief. … The swindler knows which side his bread’s buttered and won’t budge an inch. … So he doesn’t pay up. … So our man had to pay up the whole thirty thousand. [Sighs] The fool is suffering for his folly. His wife’s got children now by the lawyer and the brother-in-law has bought an estate near Poltava, and our man goes round inns like a fool, and complains to the likes of us: “I’ve lost all faith, brothers! I can’t believe in anybody now!” It’s cowardly! Every man has his grief, a snake that sucks at his heart, and does that mean that he must drink? Take our village elder, for example. His wife plays about with the schoolmaster in broad daylight, and spends his money on drink, but the elder walks about smiling to himself. He’s just a little thinner …
TIHON. [Sighs] When God gives a man strength. …
KUSMA. There’s all sorts of strength, that’s true. … Well? How much does it come to? [Pays] Take your pound of flesh! Good-bye, children! Good-night and pleasant dreams! It’s time I hurried off. I’m bringing my lady a midwife from the hospital. … She must be getting wet with waiting, poor thing. … [Runs out. A pause.]
TIHON. Oh, you! Unhappy man, come and drink this! [Pours out.]
BORTSOV. [Comes up to the bar hesitatingly and drinks] That means I now owe you for two glasses.
TIHON. You don’t owe me anything? Just drink and drown your sorrows!
FEDYA. Drink mine, too, sir! Oh! [Throws down a five-copeck piece] If you drink, you die; if you don’t drink, you die. It’s good not to drink vodka, but by God you’re easier when you’ve got some! Vodka takes grief away. … It is hot!
BORTSOV. Boo! The heat!
MERIK. Dive it here! [Takes the medallion from TIHON and examines her portrait] Hm. Ran off after the wedding. What a woman!
A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. Pour him out another glass, Tihon. Let him drink mine, too.
MERIK. [Dashes the medallion to the ground] Curse her! [Goes quickly to his place and lies down, face to the wall. General excitement.]
BORTSOV. Here, what’s that? [Picks up the medallion] How dare you, you beast? What right have you? [Tearfully] Do you want me to kill you? You moujik! You boor!
TIHON. Don’t be angry, sir. … It isn’t glass, it isn’t broken. … Have another drink and go to sleep. [Pours out] Here I’ve been listening to you all, and when I ought to have locked up long ago. [Goes and looks door leading out.]
BORTSOV. [Drinks] How dare he? The fool! [to MERIK] Do you understand? You’re a fool, a donkey!
SAVVA. Children! If you please! Stop that talking! What’s the good of making a noise? Let people go to sleep.
TIHON. Lie down, lie down … be quiet! [Goes behind the counter and locks the till] It’s time to sleep.
FEDYA. It’s time! [Lies down] Pleasant dreams, brothers!
MERIK. [Gets up and spreads his short fur and coat the bench] Come on, lie down, sir.
TIHON. And where will you sleep.
MERIK. Oh, anywhere. … The floor will do. … [Spreads a coat on the floor] It’s all one to me [Puts the axe by him] It would be torture for him to sleep on the floor. He’s used to silk and down. …
TIHON. [To BORTSOV] Lie down, your honour! You’ve looked at that portrait long enough. [Puts out a candle] Throw it away!
BORTSOV. [Swaying about] Where can I lie down?
TIHON. In the tramp’s place! Didn’t you hear him giving it up to you?
BORTSOV. [Going up to the vacant place] I’m a bit … drunk … after all that. … Is this it? … Do I lie down here? Eh?
TIHON. Yes, yes, lie down, don’t be afraid. [Stretches himself out on the counter.]
BORTSOV. [Lying down] I’m … drunk. … Everything’s going round. … [Opens the medallion] Haven’t you a little candle? [Pause] You’re a queer little woman Masha. … Looking at me out of the frame and laughing. … [Laughs] I’m drunk! And should you laugh at a man because he’s drunk? You look out, as Schastlivtsev says, and … love the drunkard.
FEDYA. How the wind howls. It’s dreary!
BORTSOV. [Laughs] What a woman. … Why do you keep on going round?