NIKÍTA. All right. [Exeunt all but Nikíta. Nikíta lights a cigarette. It grows darker] Just see how they bother one. Want a fellow to tell 'em how he larks about with the wenches! It would take long to tell 'em all those stories—“Marry her,” he says. Marry them all! One would have a good lot of wives! And what need have I to marry? Am as good as married now! There's many a chap as envies me. Yet how strange it felt when I crossed myself before the icón. It was just as if some one shoved me. The whole web fell to pieces at once. They say it's frightening to swear what's not true. That's all humbug. It's all talk, that is. It's simple enough.
AKOULÍNA [enters with a rope, which she puts down. She takes off her outdoor things and goes into closet] You might at least have got a light.
NIKÍTA. What, to look at you? I can see you well enough without.
AKOULÍNA. Oh, bother you!
Nan enters and whispers to Nikíta.
NAN. Nikíta, there's a person wants you. There is!
NIKÍTA. What person?
NAN. Marína from the railway; she's out there, round the corner.
NIKÍTA. Nonsense!
NAN. Blest if she isn't!
NIKÍTA. What does she want?
NAN. She wants you to come out. She says, “I only want to say a word to Nikíta.” I began asking, but she won't tell, but only says, “Is it true he's leaving you?” And I say, “No, only his father wanted to take him away and get him to marry, but he won't, and is going to stay with us another year.” And she says, “For goodness' sake send him out to me. I must see him,” she says, “I must say a word to him somehow.” She's been waiting a long time. Why don't you go?
NIKÍTA. Bother her! What should I go for?
NAN. She says, “If he don't come, I'll go into the hut to him.” Blest if she didn't say she'd come in!
NIKÍTA. Not likely. She'll wait a bit and then go away.
NAN. “Or is it,” she says, “that they want him to marry Akoulína?”
Re-enter Akoulína, passing near Nikíta to take her distaff.
AKOULÍNA. Marry whom to Akoulína?
NAN. Why, Nikíta.
AKOULÍNA. A likely thing! Who says it?
NIKÍTA [looks at her and laughs] It seems people do say it. Would you marry me, Akoulína?
AKOULÍNA. Who, you? Perhaps I might have afore, but I won't now.
NIKÍTA. And why not now?
AKOULÍNA. 'Cos you wouldn't love me.
NIKÍTA. Why not?
AKOULÍNA. 'Cos you'd be forbidden to. [Laughs].
NIKÍTA. Who'd forbid it?
AKOULÍNA. Who? My step-mother. She does nothing but grumble, and is always staring at you.
NIKÍTA [laughing] Just hear her! Ain't she cute?
AKOULÍNA. Who? Me? What's there to be cute about? Am I blind? She's been rowing and rowing at dad all day. The fat-muzzled witch! [Goes into closet].
NAN [looking out of the window] Look, Nikíta, she's coming! I'm blest if she isn't! I'll go away. [Exit].
MARÍNA [enters] What are you doing with me?
NIKÍTA. Doing? I'm not doing anything.
MARÍNA. You mean to desert me.
NIKÍTA [gets up angrily] What does this look like, your coming here?
MARÍNA. Oh, Nikíta!
NIKÍTA. Well, you are strange! What have you come for?
MARÍNA. Nikíta!
NIKÍTA. That's my name. What do you want with Nikíta? Well, what next? Go away, I tell you!
MARÍNA. I see, you do want to throw me over.
NIKÍTA. Well, and what's there to remember? You yourself don't know. When you stood out there round the corner and sent Nan for me, and I didn't come, wasn't it plain enough that you're not wanted? It seems pretty simple. So there—go!
MARÍNA. Not wanted! So now I'm not wanted! I believed you when you said you would love me. And now that you've ruined me, I'm not wanted.
NIKÍTA. Where's the good of talking? This is quite improper. You've been telling tales to father. Now, do go away, will you?
MARÍNA. You know yourself I never loved any one but you. Whether you married me or not, I'd not have been angry. I've done you no wrong, then why have you left off caring for me? Why?
NIKÍTA. Where's the use of baying at the moon? You go away. Goodness me! what a duffer!
MARÍNA. It's not that you deceived me when you promised to marry me that hurts, but that you've left off loving. No, it's not that you've stopped loving me either, but that you've changed me for another, that's what hurts. I know who it is!
NIKÍTA [comes up to her viciously] Eh! what's the good of talking to the likes of you, that won't listen to reason? Be off, or you'll drive me to do something you'll be sorry for.
MARÍNA. What, will you strike me, then? Well then, strike me! What are you turning away for? Ah, Nikíta!
NIKÍTA. Supposing some one came in. Of course, it's quite improper. And what's the good of talking?
MARÍNA. So this is the end of it! What has been has flown. You want me to forget it? Well then, Nikíta, listen. I kept my maiden honour as the apple of my eye. You have ruined me for nothing, you have deceived me. You have no pity on a fatherless and motherless girl! [Weeping] You have deserted, you have killed me, but I bear you no malice. God forgive you! If you find a better one you'll forget me, if a worse one you'll remember me. Yes, you will remember, Nikíta! Good-bye, then, if it is to be. Oh, how I loved you! Good-bye for the last time. [Takes his head in her hands and tries to kiss him].
NIKÍTA [tossing his head back] I'm not going to talk with the likes of you. If you won't go away I will, and you may stay here by yourself.
MARÍNA [screams] You are a brute. [In the doorway] God will give you no joy. [Exit, crying].
AKOULÍNA [comes out of closet] You're a dog, Nikíta!
NIKÍTA. What's up?
AKOULÍNA. What a cry she gave! [Cries].
NIKÍTA. What's up with you?
AKOULÍNA. What's up? You've hurt her so. That's the way you'll hurt me also. You're a dog. [Exit into closet].
Silence.
NIKÍTA. Here's a fine muddle. I'm as sweet as honey on the lasses, but when a fellow's sinned with 'em it's a bad look-out!
Curtain.
ACT II
The scene represents the village street. To the left the outside of Peter's hut, built of logs, with a porch in the middle; to the right of the hut the gates and a corner of the yard buildings. Anísya is beating hemp in the street near the corner of the yard. Six months have elapsed since the First Act.
ANÍSYA [stops and listens] Mumbling something again. He's probably got off the stove.
Akoulína enters, carrying two pails on a yoke.
ANÍSYA. He's calling. You go and see what he wants, kicking up such