The Russian Masters: Works by Dostoevsky, Chekhov, Tolstoy, Pushkin, Gogol, Turgenev and More. Максим Горький. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Максим Горький
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9788027218158
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is your real name?

      KING HEROD

      Yeremey. That's my name—Yeremey. But they call me Herod, carefully adding King, so that there may be no mistake. Look, there comes another monk, a plague on him. Say, did you ever see His countenance?

      SAVVA

      I did.

      KING HEROD

      And did you see His eyes? No? Then look, try to see them—Where is he off to, the bat? To the village to his women.

      KONDRATY (enters)

      Peace be with you, honest folks. Good evening, Savva. To what lucky chance do I owe this meeting?

      KING HEROD

      Look, monk, the devil's tail is sticking out of your pocket.

      KONDRATY

      It isn't the devil's tail, it's a radish. You're very clever, but you didn't hit it right that time.

      KING HEROD (spitting in disgust)

      I can't bear to look at them. They turn my stomach. Good-bye, friend.

       Remember what I told you. When you are in sorrow, don't go to people.

      SAVVA

      All right, uncle, I understand.

      KING HEROD

      Rather go to the forest to the wolves. (Goes out; his voice is heard out of the darkness) Oh, Lord, do you see?

      KONDRATY

      A narrow-minded fool. Killed his son and puts on airs. You can't get by him. He won't let you alone. It's something to be proud of, isn't it, to have killed one's own son? A great thing.

      SPERANSKY (with a sigh)

      No, Father Kondraty, you are mistaken. He is a happy man. If his son were brought to life this moment, he would instantly kill him. He wouldn't give him five minutes to live. But of course when he dies, he'll know the truth.

      KONDRATY

      That's what I said, you fool. If it were a cat he killed, he might have some reason to be proud—but his own son! What are you thinking about, Savva Yegorovich?

      SAVVA

      I am waiting. I should like to know how soon this gentleman will go. The devil brought him, I think. Now, here comes someone else. (Peers into the darkness)

      LIPA (approaching. She stops and hesitates)

      Is that you, Savva?

      SAVVA

      Yes, and is that you? What do you want? I don't like people to follow me everywhere I go, sister.

      LIPA

      The gate to this place is open. Everybody has a right to come in. Mr. Speransky, Tony has been asking for you. He wants the seminarist, he says.

      SAVVA

      There, go together—a jolly pair. Good-bye, sir, good-bye.

      SPERANSKY

      Good-bye. I hope I'll see you soon again, Mr. Savva, and have another talk.

      SAVVA

      No, don't try, please. Abandon the hope. Good-bye.

      LIPA

      How rude you are, Savva. Come, Mr. Speransky. They have business of their own to attend to.

      SPERANSKY

      Still I haven't given up hope. Good-bye. (Goes out)

      SAVVA

      Just grabbed me and stuck—the devil take him!

      KONDRATY (laughing)

      Yes, he is a sticker from the word go. If he likes you, you can't shake him off. He'll follow you everywhere. We call him the "shadow"—partly, I suppose, because he is so thin. He has taken a fancy to you, so you'll have a time of it. He'll stick to you like a leech.

      SAVVA

      I am not in the habit of wasting a lot of words. I'll give him the slip without much ceremony.

      KONDRATY

      They have, even tried beating him, but it doesn't do any good. He is known here for miles around. He is a character.

       [A pause. Lightning. Every now and then is heard the roll of distant thunder.

      SAVVA

      Why did you tell me to meet you here in this public place where everyone may come? They fell on me like a swarm of fleas—monks and all sorts of imbeciles. I'd rather have spoken to you in the woods, where we could be let alone.

      KONDRATY

      I did it to escape suspicion. If I went with you to the woods they'd say: "What has a God-fearing man like Kondraty got to do with such a fellow?" I hope you pardon! "Why is he so thick with him?" I purposely timed my coming so that they'd see us together with others.

      SAVVA (looking fixedly at him)

      Well?

      KONDRATY (turning away his eyes and shrugging his shoulders) I can't.

      SAVVA

      You are afraid?

      KONDRATY

      To tell the truth, I am.

      SAVVA

      You're no good, old chap.

      KONDRATY

      Perhaps not. You have a right to draw your own conclusions. (Pause)

      SAVVA

      But what are you afraid of, you booby? The machine is not dangerous. It won't hurt you. All you have to do is to put it in the right place, set it off, and then you can go to the village to your mistresses.

      KONDRATY

      That's not the point.

      SAVVA

      What then? Are you afraid of being caught? But I told you, if anything should happen, I'll take the guilt on myself. Don't you believe me?

      KONDRATY

      Why, of course I believe you.

      SAVVA

      What then? Do you fear God?

      KONDRATY

      Yes, I do.

      SAVVA

      But you don't believe in God—you believe in the devil.

      KONDRATY

      Who knows? Maybe some day I'll suddenly discover that He does exist. In that case, Mr. Savva, I thank you, but I'd rather not. Why should I? I live a nice, quiet existence. Of course, it's all a humbug, an imposition. But what business is it of mine? The people want to believe—let them. It wasn't I who invented God.

      SAVVA

      Look here. You know I could have done it myself. All I need have done was to take a bomb and throw it into the procession. That's all. But that would mean the killing of many people, which at the present juncture would serve no useful purpose. I therefore ask you to do it. If you refuse, then the blood will rest on you. You understand?

      KONDRATY

      Why on me? I am not going to throw the bomb. And then, what have I got to do with them—I mean the people that get killed? What concern are they of mine? There are plenty of people in the world. You can't kill them all, no matter how many bombs you throw.

      SAVVA

      Aren't you sorry for them?

      KONDRATY

      If I were to be sorry for everybody, I should have no sympathy left for myself.

      SAVVA

      That's