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Title: The waltz of the dogs A play in four acts Author: Leonid Andreyev Translator: Herman Bernstein Release date: June 21, 2026 [eBook #78902] Language: English Original publication: New York: The Macmillan Company, 1922 Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78902 Credits: Tim Lindell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WALTZ OF THE DOGS *** THE WALTZ OF THE DOGS _A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS_ BY LEONID ANDREYEV ANATHEMA THE LIFE OF MAN THE SORROWS OF BELGIUM THE WALTZ OF THE DOGS _A Play in Four Acts_ BY LEONID ANDREYEV AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT BY HERMAN BERNSTEIN New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1922 _All rights reserved_ PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY HERMAN BERNSTEIN. Set up and printed. Published September, 1922. Press of J. J. Little & Ives Company New York, U. S. A. CHARACTERS HENRY TILE CARL TILE, _His Brother_ ELIZABETH ALEXANDROV, _nicknamed “Feklusha”_ “HAPPY JENNIE” ANDREY TIZENHAUSEN IVAN YERMOLAYEV IVAN, _man servant_ TWO HOUSE PAINTERS THE WALTZ OF THE DOGS ACT I SCENE: _Two house painters are singing a song behind the wall. They sing it softly, without words, monotonously. CARL TILE, a student, is sitting at his brother HENRY TILE’S writing table. The apartment is new, not yet completely finished or furnished; nor is the room in which CARL TILE is sitting completely finished. It is intended as a drawing room, and the new furniture is arranged in strict order: armchairs, plain chairs, a small round table near a couch, an oval mirror; but there are no rugs, no draperies, and no paintings. In the middle of the room a table is set for dinner. Everything in the room is angular, cold, lifeless—life had not yet begun there. The new little piano is very glossy; music is arranged on the music stand. CARL TILE is busying himself with a skeleton key._ CARL The house painters are singing. _He whistles softly to the tune of the quiet song without words. Then he strikes the table with his palm softly and says_: Yes. _He strikes the table twice again after measured pauses, repeating_: Yes—Yes. _Pause._ I have just opened my brother Henry’s table with a skeleton key. I was looking for money. But I found only twenty-five rubles—only twenty-five rubles. That’s too little. _Again he strikes the table after measured pauses._ Yes—Yes—Yes. I wonder whether my brother Henry—Henry Tile—knows that I am a cardsharp, a gambler, a thief, that I am looking for a woman to support me! No, he does not know. My brother Henry is not wise. No. No. Now he’ll think the house painters stole the twenty-five rubles, he may not even notice that they are missing. “Brother Carl!” he says, “Brother Carl.” Yes.—But could I?—If Henry had much money, oh, a lot of money, of course—and if it could be done unnoticed, oh, of course, unnoticed—could I kill Henry, my brother Henry Tile? _He rises and walks up and down the room twice. He is tall, straight, in a long student’s coat, hanging clumsily and loosely upon him. His hair is brushed back smoothly, and is glossy. The dark blue collar of his coat is unusually high. Carl’s face is dry, somewhat stern, with regular features, and very decorous. He sits down at the table again and taps it three times, saying_: Yes—Yes—Yes. The house painters are singing. A sad tune. A quiet tune. I am a scamp, yet I am fond of sad songs, while my brother Henry has no taste at all. And his new apartment is dreadful. There is something here that inspires crime. The house painters are singing. _He whistles softly to the accompaniment of the tune. He hears the sound of the door opening in the corridor, voices; and rising slowly, he walks up and down the room with measured steps as before. Enter HENRY TILE, and his associates, DMITRY YERMOLAYEV, a stumpy man of Russian type, and ANDREY TIZENHAUSEN. Behind them walks ALEXANDROV, smiling confusedly and happily. He is nicknamed “Feklusha”—he had been a schoolmate of HENRY TILE in the first classes of the gymnasium._ HENRY Hello, Carl. How are you? CARL Hello, Henry. Thank you. And how are _you_? HENRY Thank you, I’m well. Gentlemen, are you all acquainted with my brother Carl? Carl, these are my associates at the bank—they are all gentlemen for whom I have a great deal of respect. TIZENHAUSEN How do you do, Mr. Tile? YERMOLAYEV Very pleased to make your acquaintance. You resemble your older brother very much, very much. HENRY O, yes, we resemble each other a great deal. He is a fine fellow, a serious worker. _To Carl_: And this gentleman is known as Feklusha—are you acquainted? They call him Feklusha. _Laughs._ We used to go to school together—to the Peter school. He was expelled from the second class, and he has had hard luck all his life. Feklusha, you were expelled from the second class, weren’t you? _Laughs._ FEKLUSHA From the third, Mr. Tile. For lack of ability. My conduct was excellent. HENRY He says, for lack of ability! _Laughs._ I met him on the Nevsky yesterday. It was raining hard—Twenty years have passed since we parted, still I recognized him. And he was walking very fast. You were running, Feklusha, weren’t you? FEKLUSHA It was raining, and I had no umbrella. I was running! HENRY I invited him to dinner to-day. But, gentlemen, I hope you will forgive me if the dinner is not as good as I should like you to have in my new home. This is my first dinner at home, and I cannot guarantee that my new cook is an expert. YERMOLAYEV Mr. Tile, why should you excuse yourself? I only hope we are not inconveniencing you. HENRY Oh, no, I am glad. TIZENHAUSEN What excuses! On the contrary, I am highly flattered that you invited me to the first dinner at your own home. When you are married, and you will have everything in order, you will forget your old friend Andrey Tizenhausen. HENRY Everything will be in order, but I will never forget old friends. Sit still and smoke your cigar. YERMOLAYEV _To Carl_: Didn’t I see you last week at Donon’s restaurant? You were sitting there with a lady and an officer—I believe he was an officer of the guards? CARL _Lying._ No. I never go to Donon’s. HENRY Carl can’t afford such expensive restaurants. YERMOLAYEV Then I must be mistaken. Excuse me. But he looked exactly like you. HENRY You were mistaken, Dmitry. _To Carl_: Well, how are you getting on with your work? I like to hear about your achievements. CARL _Lying._ I delivered the second installment yesterday. HENRY Oh, that’s good. You are a serious worker. But, gentlemen, isn’t this song annoying you? I hear it again. My house painters are singing there. TIZENHAUSEN It’s without words. I didn’t think they called that a song. YERMOLAYEV _Listening._ But it’s good! There is something of the stage-coach driver in it. _To Henry_: My father was a stage-coach driver. HENRY It sounds very good to me, too. Although my father was of Swedish descent, I feel that I am a Russian, and I understand _this_. This is Russian sadness. TIZENHAUSEN Although my name is Tizenhausen, I don’t even know how to speak German. I am a Russian. Nevertheless—you will pardon me, Henry, I don’t understand the meaning of this Russian sadness. HENRY Oh, one must feel it. TIZENHAUSEN Do you feel it? HENRY Not now. Oh, now I am so happy that I cannot feel any sadness—Russian, Swedish, or German! _All laugh._ TIZENHAUSEN Manly words, Henry! But won’t you show us your new apartment before it gets dark? I am dying of curiosity, I want to see how you are building your nest. Look out, Henry, I am an old and experienced man! HENRY Oh, you can’t frighten me, you old grumbler! _Laughs._ I am only a happy fiancé, but you will see what a definite plan I have. Oh, you’ll see! YERMOLAYEV I’d be delighted to see. HENRY Please follow me. Carl, be so kind as to stay here with Feklusha while I show them my home. Feklusha, please smoke, the cigarettes are on the table. _They go out. FEKLUSHA, confused, takes a cigarette. CARL lights a match and holds it out to him, while he examines him coldly._ FEKLUSHA _Bending over to the match_, Thank you very much, I’ll do it myself. CARL Please. Why do they call you by such an absurd name—“Feklusha”? It’s a woman’s name. FEKLUSHA How shall I tell you, Mr. Tile? I suppose it’s on account of my character. I am always somewhat timid, inclined to tears, and in the same manner, too hasty—quick in my thoughts. CARL Why “in the same manner”? FEKLUSHA They say so. CARL No, they don’t. But you are not very quick to-day. Where are you employed? FEKLUSHA How shall I tell you, Mr. Tile? I’m employed by the police. CARL What! FEKLUSHA No, no, I am working in the office of the chief of police, in the passport department. Mr. Henry Tile knows about it. CARL Are you getting much? FEKLUSHA Forty rubles—well, together with gratuities and extras, and so on, it comes to about ninety rubles. A very trivial sum. CARL A large family? FEKLUSHA Enormous! CARL Why don’t you get into the detective service? It’s more profitable, you could earn more. FEKLUSHA You’re joking. How can I? CARL No. I am serious. You are hardly suited to be a _provocateur_, but as an ordinary detective you might do. It isn’t as hard as it seems. How much does a good detective get? FEKLUSHA A trifle—they don’t get much. CARL I mean a good detective? FEKLUSHA Oh, a really good detective gets enormous sums. But since you are talking to me in such a friendly spirit, I must confess to you, I have tried it, I have made all kinds of efforts—but— CARL But what? FEKLUSHA Nothing. I have no abilities of any kind, I am not fit for anything worth while. That’s my misfortune. That’s why I’m doomed—I have no abilities. CARL None? FEKLUSHA Not the slightest! You know, there are so many opportunities around me that if God had only given me some talent, I could have provided for my family perfectly. But without talents, I run about, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t earn another kopek. How can I? CARL Feklusha, could you make or get—I don’t know what you call it there—could you get me a false foreign passport? FEKLUSHA No. I couldn’t! How could I? CARL But if you tried—for a substantial sum? FEKLUSHA What do you need it for? CARL One must always have a foreign passport for an emergency. No, I am only jesting, of course. Were you really running when my brother Henry met you? FEKLUSHA You are laughing at me, Mr. Tile? Pardon me, but I don’t quite understand your conversation. CARL No, Feklusha, I am not laughing. Do I look like a man who is fond of laughing? Henry asked me to entertain you, and I am entertaining you. Does Henry intend to assist you? FEKLUSHA I would be extremely happy! He told me that he was giving financial aid to his brother—he meant you, Mr. Tile? CARL Yes. But I prefer to speak about you, Feklusha. Tell me, when you were a detective, did you often have dealings with murderers? FEKLUSHA With murderers? _Henry and his friends return, talking. Henry is laughing._ HENRY You are surprised, you old grumbler? Let me brush off your coat, you have soiled your sleeve, Dmitry. CARL I’ll bring the brush. YERMOLAYEV It isn’t worth bothering, really, it isn’t. HENRY He’ll bring the brush. Carl, fetch it. Well, gentlemen, how do you like it? _Laughs happily._ YERMOLAYEV It’s a wonderful little apartment, Henry. TIZENHAUSEN Yes, I am astounded, Henry. HENRY In the dining room I will have oak-colored wall paper, eventually I will change it to oak veneer. The windows of the nursery, as I said before, will always have the sun. It will always be light there. That’s hygienic, and essential in Petrograd. Unfortunately, I had too little sunshine during my own childhood, so I want my children to have plenty. Sunlight is essential. TIZENHAUSEN But, Henry, you talk as if you already had children, and a heap of them! That is the self-assurance of a bachelor! HENRY I _will_ have them. _Enter CARL with a brush._ HENRY Please, Dmitry, Carl will brush your sleeve. I _will_ have them. I have already bought a children’s cot—in a week from now it will be in its proper place waiting for its master. _Laughs._ YERMOLAYEV And when is the wedding to take place? HENRY In a week from now the apartment will be ready. In seventeen days, counting from to-day, the wedding will take place. To-day, by the next mail, in about twenty minutes from now, just before dinner, I will get a letter from Elizabeth, in which she will inform me exactly on what day she arrives. Elizabeth went to Moscow to see her parents. Now this room, Andrey! Here, rugs. There, portières. In these vases, always fresh flowers. TIZENHAUSEN That’s a luxury, Henry. HENRY Fresh flowers are not a luxury. And here, over the piano, I will have two gravures—meanwhile I haven’t enough money for paintings—the head of Beethoven and Giorgoni’s “Concert.” Are you looking, Feklusha? FEKLUSHA I am staring! HENRY _Laughing._ Staring! And here, Andrey, in this corner, will be an armchair in which I will sit quietly while Elizabeth plays Beethoven and Grieg. You see, I have already secured the music from which she will play for the first time, while I will be sitting in my armchair. _Shakes the dust off the music and replaces it carefully and tenderly._ How dusty! TIZENHAUSEN That’s from the workmen, Henry. HENRY There will be no dust in my home. Have you a piano, Feklusha? FEKLUSHA Where would I get it, Henry? HENRY _Laughs._ He says, where would he get it? Let me tell you, Andrey, this nook where I am going to sit and listen is my particular joy. YERMOLAYEV Have you a lease for this apartment? HENRY Yes. I have a lease for three years, with the privilege of renewing. I don’t want to change apartments every three years. Yes, Andrey. My mind is dry and practical, I have no talent for music, but I am extremely fond of it, just as my brother Carl is. CARL But you play, Henry. HENRY What! Don’t joke, Carl. CARL Have you forgotten? You played well in our nursery days. TIZENHAUSEN So that’s the sort of man you are, Henry! At the bank we are under the impression that you are only a splendid financier, with a most remarkable head for figures, while now it appears that you are also a musician. Henry—a Mozart! HENRY _Laughs._ Not quite so important. Yes, I recall. There’s a little piece I used to play with two fingers, that my mother taught me to play when I was a child. It is called by a strange name—“The Waltz of the Dogs.” CARL Play it, Henry. HENRY _Threatening with his finger_: Now, now, Carl! TIZENHAUSEN No, you must! _To Yermolayev_: Don’t you think he ought to play it for us, or we’ll be offended and leave. YERMOLAYEV So that’s the kind of talents you have, Henry! I never suspected it, never! And at the bank we don’t know anything about it. Play! HENRY _Laughs._ Now, now. But I must admit that Elizabeth is very fond of my “Waltz of the Dogs,” very! _All laugh._ CARL Well, then, Henry? HENRY Carl, you are a jester. _Mockingly_: But since the audience demands it—— _Sits down by the piano, says with mock solemnity_: I beg the audience to listen attentively. I will now play “The Waltz of the Dogs.” _He plays “The Waltz of the Dogs.” During the playing he sits straight, serious, his face is immobile, almost petrified, but after finishing his play, he bursts into laughter. While HENRY is playing, CARL watches him coldly and closely, then he is the first to applaud. General applause, but as there are only few listeners, the sound is light._ HENRY _Bowing mockingly_: Ladies and gentlemen, your humble servant! I cannot play an encore, but whoever wishes to hear this music again, is invited to come in seventeen days to the wedding ceremony of Henry Tile and the maiden Elizabeth Molchanova. Then I shall play it again. _He laughs and closes the piano cover._ FEKLUSHA At what time will the wedding take place? HENRY At half past seven. And don’t be late! But you will learn all this from the invitations which are already being printed. TIZENHAUSEN Are you happy, Henry? HENRY Yes, my friend! Let me clasp your hand, but silently, silently, Andrey. This way. And now, gentlemen, don’t you feel that after my music your appetite has grown stronger? Aren’t you hungry? Carl, please tell my new cook that in ten minutes we shall be ready to have her pass an examination. CARL I am going. _Exit, soon returns._ HENRY Are you hungry, Feklusha? FEKLUSHA Yes. It wouldn’t do any harm to eat. HENRY _Laughs._ He says, it wouldn’t do any harm! And the cognac? Will that do any harm? FEKLUSHA That surely wouldn’t do any harm. _All laugh._ TIZENHAUSEN I suppose you think that your schoolmate doesn’t drink anything but sacred water? Then you are making a great mistake—he drinks cognac. HENRY _Laughs._ He drinks cognac! FEKLUSHA _Laughs._ A pleasant occupation! There’s no use in hiding the fact: in spite of my general lack of ability, _this_ talent—— _Sighs._ I _have_. YERMOLAYEV It’s most remarkable, Henry. I have watched you for eight years, we have been in restaurants together, but I have never seen you drink too much! HENRY _Laughing._ Really? YERMOLAYEV Never! TIZENHAUSEN And you never will, Dmitry! He has a strong head, such as this world has never seen before! HENRY Do you think so? Perhaps you are right. And what is more—Gentlemen, the bell! That’s the postman, bringing a letter from Elizabeth. Carl, please. _Exit CARL. HENRY is agitated, but restrained._ HENRY _To Feklusha_: So you are fond of cognac? CARL _Entering._ A letter from Moscow, registered. Sign here, Henry. HENRY _Signing._ I always asked her to send it registered. Here are twenty kopeks for the postman. So. Now they are writing us from Moscow. _Tearing the envelope open._ You will pardon me, gentlemen? TIZENHAUSEN How can we prevent a lover from reading his letters? Go ahead, Henry, we are not here. _HENRY reads slowly and long. He turns pale at the first lines, and keeps growing ever paler. No one but CARL is watching him._ YERMOLAYEV _Softly_: A wonderful little apartment! It’s very hard to find one like it nowadays. FEKLUSHA You can’t even touch any apartments now—it’s simply terrible. TIZENHAUSEN Have you a family? FEKLUSHA An enormous one! CARL _Loudly_: Aren’t you feeling well, Henry? _All look with alarm at HENRY. He gets up, walks two steps, and without saying a word strikes the table with a powerful blow of his fist. Bottles and glasses fall. All jump to their feet._ CARL Henry! TIZENHAUSEN Henry! _HENRY strikes the table once more just as forcefully with his fist, without saying a word. He stands silently, surveying them all with red eyes, as if looking for some one to attack._ YERMOLAYEV Bring him some water! HENRY I need no water! TIZENHAUSEN Henry! My dear Henry! Has anything terrible happened? HENRY No, nothing terrible. CARL Henry, calm yourself. HENRY I am calm. TIZENHAUSEN No. Something terrible has happened. My dear Henry! We are here! We are all your friends, Henry! HENRY I must ask you to excuse me, but there will be no dinner to-day. Carl, tell the new cook that she may go home now. _Exit CARL, returns soon._ TIZENHAUSEN Who cares about the dinner! You shouldn’t worry about such trifles, Henry! YERMOLAYEV Who cares about the dinner? HENRY There will be no dinner here to-day. _He suddenly strikes the table again._ TIZENHAUSEN _Almost crying._ Oh, my God! What a misfortune, Henry! HENRY Yes? Here is a very strange letter, Andrey. Either there’s something wrong in this letter, or I can’t read it. Read it, Andrey, and tell me. Perhaps I have grown blind. TIZENHAUSEN _Reads._ No, you haven’t grown blind, my poor Henry. _Reads._ No, it’s impossible! HENRY And does it say there, “I still love you”? TIZENHAUSEN Yes, yes, Henry. HENRY So. Then I am not blind. And does it say there “But because of the insistence of my parents I am going to be married.” TIZENHAUSEN Henry! She is already married. She is already married! HENRY She is already married to a wealthy man. What is his name, Andrey? TIZENHAUSEN His name is not mentioned. HENRY Not mentioned. So. And how did she sign it? TIZENHAUSEN _Reading_: “Your unworthy Elizabeth.” HENRY Unworthy Elizabeth. Yes. Unworthy Elizabeth. _Suddenly strikes the table forcefully._ Unworthy Elizabeth! TIZENHAUSEN But my dear friend, my unfortunate friend. CARL Keep up your courage, Henry! HENRY I will not do it any more. YERMOLAYEV Henry, it isn’t worth worrying about. Such things happen in life. You will find a better bride for yourself. HENRY I will not do it any more. But, Andrey, don’t you find that it is written with precise exactness: “Unworthy Elizabeth.” Who? “Unworthy Elizabeth.” Who? Henry Tile. And who else? “Unworthy Elizabeth.” Don’t you feel like laughing, Feklusha? FEKLUSHA _Frightened._ No, Henry. HENRY You must not laugh. I will not allow any laughter. But, Andrey, don’t you think that the whole letter is written in very precise language? TIZENHAUSEN Excuse me, Henry, but in my opinion—the opinion of an honest man—this is a contemptible letter. Yes. HENRY And in my opinion it is simply a very precise letter. Henry Tile loves accuracy—all his life he never made a mistake in a single kopek, he never made a mistake in addition, he never made a mistake in a single cipher, and now they have written a precise letter to Henry Tile. And it is signed: “Unworthy Elizabeth.” Gentlemen, I should like to remain here alone. TIZENHAUSEN But how can you stay here alone, my dear friend? HENRY Never mind. I’ll stay here alone. CARL If you like, I’ll stay with you. HENRY No, Carl. I don’t need you. Good night. To-morrow we will meet at the bank. Carl I want to say a few words to you. _Quietly_: Here is some money, please take these people to a restaurant and treat them to a good dinner. CARL May I clasp your hand, Henry? HENRY It’s hardly necessary, but, please. Press it firmly. CARL I am pressing it firmly. HENRY _Smiling_: No, press harder still. CARL I am. What do you want? _They strangely measure their strength. The others look on uneasily._ HENRY Are you pressing with all your strength? Press harder. CARL I can’t press harder. HENRY And I? _Presses Carl’s hand._ TIZENHAUSEN Don’t, Henry. Leave him! CARL Henry, stop! HENRY _Smiling_: And I? CARL _Turning pale and shrinking_, It hurts. Stop! You’ll break my hand! _Henry releases his brother’s hand and laughs._ HENRY You are very strong, Carl. CARL I don’t like such jokes! HENRY _Morosely_: Excuse me, Carl. That was really wrong. Excuse me. Good night, gentlemen. The door shuts itself, so I will not come out with you. Carl, I ask you once more to forgive me. _All go out irresolutely, one by one, with different expressions upon their faces, shaking HENRY’S hand. HENRY remains alone; walks up and down the room. He is tall, wears a dark coat, with round flaps, gray trousers, neatly creased—his usual costume. All new and strong, and his shoes are also strong and new. His face is regular, dark-complexioned, stern. His hair is short. He wears a small mustache. The house painters resume their song. HENRY stops and listens._ HENRY What’s that again? Who is there? What’s that? _Listens; suddenly strikes the back of the armchair violently._ Stop! _The song is continued. It is sung softly, sadly, monotonously. HENRY walks over to the door and shouts._ Eh, you! Stop! Quit your work! Go home! _He walks up and down the room again, pauses, walks again, looking at the door impatiently._ They call this “Russian sadness.” What nonsense, “Russian sadness!” Is there also such a thing as Swedish sadness? Then I feel it too! Who? Henry Tile. Who? Unworthy Elizabeth? And who else? And again Henry Tile, Henry Tile—O my God! _Sighs, whistling, as one who has a toothache. The two house painters, frightened, slip by quietly in the dark like two shadows._ Wait! It isn’t necessary to work any longer—it’s dark already—you can’t see anything. And tell your master that I don’t need your work any more, anyway. Where are you going? This way, there’s no one there. The door shuts itself. _The house painters go out, HENRY roams about the room, going to unexpected nooks, taps on the wall, as though looking for some forgotten door. He gradually blends with the gathering darkness._ There is no one there, and there is no one here. Alone. Oh, Elizabeth, Elizabeth! Alone! Now I can break everything, smash and throw to the ground! _Throws something on the floor._ I can destroy—and no one can stop me. I can destroy everything. Here is the piano. _He strikes the piano forcefully, and it resounds._ How it sounds! And if I strike it again? _He strikes it again and it sounds again._ How it sounds! When I banged the table, they were frightened and they cried: “Henry, Henry, Henry!” I suppose I must have struck it powerfully, for my hand hurts. They cried, “Henry!” then, but now nobody will cry. I can strike, break, destroy. Nobody will stop me—I am alone. And I can take the revolver from the table, put it against my head and fire. What then? Then I will lie on the floor until morning. Then some one will break the door—who? _Pause._ No! But she is already married. My God! My God! My God! She is already married—already! My God! I hadn’t thought of this. What shall I do, what am I going to do all night long—_all night_. She is already married—How am I going to pass the night? It is so early, darkness has just set in. What am I going to do all night long! Elizabeth! Liza! _Pause._ No. _Pause._ _Suddenly his figure stirs in the darkness and he walks quickly._ But that is impossible! I have forgotten! I have taken the apartment for three years. That’s impossible, that’s stupid—I cannot. Three years! I am ashamed. I have made a nursery, but I am not so ashamed of that. And my apartment? My God! And I have placed music upon the piano. Music. I bought it. Yes. What was I thinking about? She would have played, and I would have been sitting quietly, listening. I would have kissed her hand. Perhaps it would have been just as dark as it is now. I would have taken her gentle hand and put it to my lips. How is it done? This way. _Silence. In the darkness his soft voice is heard, full of longing_: What a long night! What a dark night! Liza! _Curtain_ ACT II SCENE: _The same scene as in the first act, only the dinner table is missing. Nothing is changed there, although a year has gone by. It is evening and electric lights are burning. CARL TILE is sitting at the writing table, cross-examining IVAN, the man servant._ CARL And what time does my brother usually come home? IVAN He has his dinner at the restaurant and comes home about eight o’clock. He goes out again at nine or ten. I don’t know when he comes back. CARL And when do you go home? IVAN At ten. Sometimes he sends me away earlier. CARL Did you serve in the army? IVAN Yes, sir. In the cavalry. CARL Ah! Fine! You look all right, Ivan, and you answer questions sensibly. Fine! IVAN Glad to serve you. CARL Fine! Well, does he go out every evening? IVAN No, twice a week. All the other evenings he stays home. Perhaps he goes out after ten, only I don’t know about it. CARL Correct. Who visits him? IVAN No one. CARL Really? IVAN Only Mr. Alexandrov comes up very often. CARL Which Alexandrov? From the bank? IVAN _Smiling_: No. They call him “Feklusha.” CARL Ah! What do they do? IVAN I don’t know. CARL You answer wonderfully. But what do you serve them? IVAN Cognac. CARL Much? IVAN Plenty. We have a large stock of it. CARL Indeed! I know this Mr. Alexandrov. Be careful, Ivan, that he doesn’t steal a fur coat some day. IVAN _Smiling_: I’m watching him. CARL You are a splendid fellow. Now, Ivan, tell me: I suppose you have a key of your own for the outside door? IVAN Yes, sir. I have two keys for the back door. One is an extra key in case I lose the other one. CARL Correct. Can’t you give me one of the keys? I sometimes pass here after ten o’clock. I want to get a book, and there is no one to open the door. IVAN I doubt it. CARL Nonsense. I am not Mr. Alexandrov, who may steal a fur coat. Here you have five rubles. IVAN Thank you very much. But I still have my doubts about it. CARL Nonsense! Here are five rubles more. IVAN Here is the key. But in case anything happens? CARL Of course, I take everything upon myself. You are a splendid fellow! I like sensible people. Here are two rubles more. Wait. Who’s ringing the bell? IVAN I suppose it is Mr. Alexandrov—it can’t be any one else. Excuse me. _Exit, returns shortly, followed by FEKLUSHA. Announces, smiling_: Mr. Alexandrov. FEKLUSHA _Flatteringly_: Good evening, Mr. Tile. _CARL walks up and down the room, without responding, as though not noticing Alexandrov at all._ I suppose Henry will be here soon. It is almost eight o’clock. _CARL walks silently, then stops in front of FEKLUSHA and looks at him fixedly._ CARL I am dreadfully sick of you, Mr. Feklusha! For more than six months I haven’t come here once without seeing that simpleton’s face of yours. Why do you snoop around here? You work for the police, while I am an honest man, a student—you are repulsive to me. FEKLUSHA What will you do about it, Mr. Tile? CARL I’ve offended him. “Mr. Tile!” Yes, I am Mr. Tile, and if you steal a fur coat some day, Mr. Feklusha— FEKLUSHA Upon my word, I’ll complain to Henry. Why do you persecute me, why do you make my life miserable? I work for the police, but I am an honest man—I have a family. CARL He talks of honesty! IVAN I’m going to complain! CARL And I will tell him that you are lying. Whom will he believe, Mr. Feklusha? I’m bored. I didn’t have enough sleep last night. Tell me some interesting lie. IVAN I am not a liar. Lie yourself. CARL Rude—rude into the bargain! It seems you have no abilities of any kind. That’s terrible—to be a nonentity, a fool, to be unable to do anything, even to lie. And in addition to that, to have an enormous family, dirty children—to love them, and wipe their noses tenderly! Fool! And in addition to all that to be sensitive, to have a certain self-respect. Self-respect! And I suppose his wife beats him too—I can tell by his beard. Your wife beats you, Mr. Feklusha, doesn’t she? FEKLUSHA I don’t feel like answering you. CARL I suppose your wife is a very untidy woman. And you are not particularly clean yourself, Mr. Alexandrov. You are repulsive to me. Why aren’t you just an insect? Then you could be easily removed—with insect powder. We wouldn’t have to stand upon ceremony with you. How absurd! _He walks silently, then stops again in front of FEKLUSHA, very close to him._ Are you angry? Don’t be angry. Believe me, I was only jesting. Don’t you want to look at me at all? Well, let me see your little eyes. I slept very poorly last night, I spent the night with a woman, and I am nervous; do you understand, Feklusha, I am nervous! Under such circumstances a man will talk all sorts of nonsense. FEKLUSHA I’m not angry, but why should you offend a man like that? I haven’t done you any harm. It’s a sin, Mr. Tile. CARL It isn’t right, I have already admitted it. Tell me, my dear fellow, what have you been doing here with my brother Henry? FEKLUSHA Nothing. Upon my word of honor! CARL Since you give me your word of honor, I bow to you and am silent. But what does he do? Every man does something—what does my brother Henry do? FEKLUSHA I don’t know. Upon my word of honor! CARL Henry stays home, he has given up his sprees, and spends his evenings with a strange character like you. Don’t you think Henry has gone out of his mind—not altogether, but a little? FEKLUSHA Oh, no—I don’t think so at all. You and I may go out of our minds, but not he! CARL It is very interesting to talk with you. You have such fascinating little eyes, Mr. Feklusha, and if you are not a downright scoundrel, then I know nothing about scoundrels. FEKLUSHA Again? CARL Let us combine, Mr. Feklusha. Do you want to make twenty thousand rubles? You can’t imagine it? Well, then, here is the proposition: Persuade my brother Henry to insure his life for a hundred thousand rubles. FEKLUSHA I don’t understand you. I can’t tell when you are jesting and when you are not. CARL It’s as plain as day. Altogether one hundred thousand rubles. Twenty thousand for you, and eighty thousand for me, as his brother, and for the idea. FEKLUSHA But, for that, he would have to die! _Carl laughs._ CARL You are comical. FEKLUSHA But what is he going to die from? What an idea! Henry is a strong man. CARL _Laughs loudly._ You are very comical, Mr. Feklusha! You ought to be in a circus. You are a clown! FEKLUSHA _Rising._ I am going to complain to Henry! What do you mean? Why do you annoy me like Satan? Satan! CARL _Indifferently_: You are a perfect fool! And there is such an odor about you—I suppose you don’t know what a bath is. Fie! Go and take a bath. I’ll give you some money for a bath. FEKLUSHA I’ll tell him everything, you’ll see! CARL _Still more indifferently_: Hold your tongue! I am disgusted with you. I want to walk and think. Keep quiet—and don’t disturb me. If you breathe a word about it I will tell my brother Henry this evening that you were urging me to insure his life and kill him. Silence! _He walks up and down the room slowly. FEKLUSHA is silent. A knock on the door in the corridor. After a few seconds HENRY enters._ HENRY Good evening, Carl. How are you? Good evening, Feklusha. Sit down. CARL Thank you, and how are you, Henry? HENRY Quite well. Have you been here long? CARL A little while. HENRY Did you come for money, Carl? I believe your month is not up yet. CARL Thank you. I still have enough. Besides, I have found a good pupil. HENRY Don’t stand upon ceremony with me, Carl. I intend to increase your allowance twenty rubles a month. Feklusha, at yesterday’s conference they decided to increase my salary by twelve hundred a year. FEKLUSHA Really? I congratulate you, I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart. HENRY The management appreciates my services. CARL I don’t even congratulate you, Henry—it is so natural. Yesterday I met Tizenhausen, and he told me that you have become ideal. He assured me that he had never seen such a correct, tireless, and perfect worker as you are. Everybody fears you at the bank. HENRY Oh, yes, they are all afraid of me. When I pass by, they don’t dare lift their heads from their work. Yesterday I dismissed two clerks for not being punctual. Yes, people have reason to be afraid of me. CARL Of course, you don’t include me among them? I am jesting, Henry. But here is something I wanted to ask you seriously—I was talking about it with your friend here. HENRY With my client, Carl. The Romans used to say so. CARL I beg your pardon, with your client. I find that his condition is terrible. He has an enormous family, lack of means, lack of abilities. HENRY Well? CARL I don’t need any more money. Be generous, Henry, give him the increase of twenty rubles a month. I ask you seriously. _Pause. HENRY looks at his brother attentively. CARL is serious and modest._ HENRY Good, Good! Feklusha, did you hear what he said? Thanks to my brother, Carl, now you will get twenty rubles a month from me. FEKLUSHA _Confused._ I really don’t know—My God! Thank you, Mr. Tile. I can’t express my—but in the name of my whole family—! _On the point of tears. The brothers look at him._ CARL _To his brother, softly_: He is agitated. _Loudly_: Well, good night, Henry, good night. Are you staying home this evening? HENRY No, I have an appointment. Good night, Carl. The door shuts itself. _Exit CARL. HENRY waits until the door closes. Mockingly shows with his face and hand how the door closed, and laughs loudly. FEKLUSHA looks at him with a certain sense of fear._ FEKLUSHA Henry, you were drinking this evening at dinner? HENRY I always drink at dinner. If Carl were not my brother, I would have said that Carl was a—fool. (_Laughs._) They gave me an increase of twelve hundred! They say I am ideal. Feklusha, they are afraid of me at the bank! FEKLUSHA _Laughs flatteringly._ Very clever, Henry! I am amazed how you do it. Was it true that you dismissed two clerks? HENRY Yes. FEKLUSHA After all, I am sorry for them. Have they families? HENRY Whatever the situation, I cannot permit inaccuracies. They deserved to be dismissed. FEKLUSHA And what about the twenty rubles for me? Is that true, or were you only jesting? HENRY You are a rabbit—simply a cowardly rabbit. No, I was not jesting. You will get twenty rubles a month—but not long, not long, Feklusha! (_Laughs._) These foolish people at the bank are afraid of me. I want to steal a million from them, and they are afraid of me! I want to steal a million from them, and they say, “Henry Tile is an irreproachable worker, he is ideal.” Isn’t it comical, Alexandrov? FEKLUSHA _Sternly_: I don’t believe it, Henry. These are only words to test me, nothing else. Excuse me. HENRY You believe I am so honest? FEKLUSHA I don’t believe anything. I admit that with all your talent you could easily appropriate from the bank not only one million, but two millions—as many as you want. But—! HENRY Steal, Feklusha! Speak as a friend—steal! FEKLUSHA Still worse—steal! But what’s the sense of it? What’s the sense, Henry? I ask you with tears in my eyes, explain it to me, don’t torture my head, don’t torment me! Here they have given you an increase of twelve hundred and they will soon give you another increase—Henry, you are my benefactor, but I am absolutely convinced that you are just making sport of me. HENRY You are foolish, Feklusha. FEKLUSHA I have heard that many times. You can’t surprise me with that, nevertheless I don’t believe in your plan. My God! And why do you talk to me about it? What sort of comrade am I to you? You have the mind of a cabinet minister, and what am I? No. I am absolutely sure you are jesting, you are just acting, as in a play. You are not going to run away anywhere! HENRY You are a fool, Feklusha! You are all fools, and none of you knows Henry Tile with his great soul. I have a great soul! My soul dwells in a palace, and not in this stupid apartment, where the nursery windows face the sun! But let them be deceived—I am gladdened by the sight of the deluded fools. FEKLUSHA I don’t want to know about it, I don’t want to! Do you hear, Mr. Tile, or no? I don’t want to hear any more about it. For the past six months, ever since you told me about it, I haven’t slept a single night—upon my word! HENRY Why should you sleep? FEKLUSHA What do you mean? I once lived without care. HENRY Why should you sleep? I do not sleep nights either. Oh, I have slept long enough, and now I have awakened. Don’t you see the sun that is shining for me at night? That is my sun, I have awakened. Henry Tile, who is fond of punctuality, who placed this stupid music upon the piano, who leased the apartment for three years, for ten years, for a hundred years—Henry Tile has awakened! Would you like me to play for you “The Waltz of the Dogs”? Listen. I’ll play for you “The Waltz of the Dogs.” _He plays it in the same serious, wooden, affected manner as before. Then he laughs._ HENRY Did you hear it? FEKLUSHA I did. You were drinking at dinner this evening. HENRY I always drink at dinner, I told you that before. But I see that you too need a drink to brighten up your dull brain. _Rings._ We’ll have a _little cognac_ now. FEKLUSHA _Laughing, pathetically_: Now I believe you again. How you say it, a little cognac. HENRY Not so loud. _Enter Ivan._ Ivan, give us some cognac—or—that would be fine—let us have some Swedish punch. Quick! _Exit Ivan._ Do you like Swedish punch? FEKLUSHA I adore Swedish punch, but what’s the use? I don’t see the use of it. HENRY The use of it is that you drink cognac and punch, while Henry Tile is deceiving the fools with his arithmetic. And the use of it is also—and I want you to take note of it—that in about two weeks from now I am going away with a million rubles. I will not tell you the exact day. FEKLUSHA Why should I know the exact day? But how will you go, if you haven’t even a foreign passport? HENRY I have it. But listen: Yesterday I was again examining the railway map and I discovered that my original plan of escape by way of Stockholm will not do. I’d be caught in Stockholm or in Malme. I am a severe critic. I see everything in advance. I have another plan now. FEKLUSHA What is it? HENRY I am not going to tell you. FEKLUSHA I wouldn’t remember it, anyway. How many plans you have already told me! I forget them as soon as you tell them to me. What a head I have! Are we going to examine the map this evening? I like it—it’s so interesting, it takes my breath away. HENRY No. Not so loud. Ivan is coming. _Enter Ivan, with punch, which he puts on the table._ Ivan, you may go home now, I’ll not need you this evening. Good night, Ivan. IVAN Good night. _Exit._ HENRY Drink, Feklusha, brighten up your dull brain. It’s excellent punch! FEKLUSHA If I could only brighten it up! To-day my little boy took sick—the measles, I don’t know—I went away from home—there is nothing for me to do there. A fine father, indeed! HENRY This evening we will go to that dirty little tavern of yours. I want to drink much this evening, to talk and see many people. But not fools! Feklusha, do you know that Elizabeth came to me twice and knocked at this door? FEKLUSHA No. Really? She was here herself? HENRY Yes. The first time she was sent away by Ivan, and the second time I myself opened this door for her, I raised my hand this way and said to her, “Go!” She said, “Forgive me.” I said to her, “Go, foolish Elizabeth!” and I closed the door. FEKLUSHA _Drinks and laughs._ I pity the women, they are foolish. But you loved her? HENRY No! And we are going this evening to that little tavern of yours—I like the people in that tavern! FEKLUSHA Very well, then, let us go. I am ready for anything. HENRY And I like you, too. With you I can talk as if I were alone. And yet I am _not_ alone, because you have ears. But I _am_ alone because these are the ears of a donkey! But you are sly—you are a very sly little animal. FEKLUSHA How am I sly? What are you saying? I was dreaming of becoming a detective—why, anybody would escape from under my very nose, and I wouldn’t even notice it! Eh? _Drinks._ HENRY No. You are a very, very sly little rabbit. I can see it. You have thought up something for yourself, you don’t want to be a fool. Oh, you are a great scoundrel! But that doesn’t matter, for I have already been forewarned by my angel! _Laughs._ That doesn’t matter! FEKLUSHA Stop this. Is it possible that you know all the trains and all the steamers? HENRY All. FEKLUSHA Just think of it! All? And I can’t even find the right street car, I always get into the wrong one. And is it possible that you need only two sheets of paper in order to get that million? It’s hardly credible! HENRY Only two. FEKLUSHA What a talent! And what kind of papers do you need? HENRY You don’t have to know that, you foolish Feklusha. That’s superfluous. But in about two weeks a certain very correct gentleman will be traveling on a certain steamer and he will have a million in his pocket. And traveling on a certain steamer that gentleman will raise his hand this way—he will stretch it towards the distant shores and say, Good-by, distant and foolish shores! Good-by, apartment with a nursery facing the sun! And good-by and be cursed, and dead, and buried, Henry Tile, who loved order! Feklusha, would you like me to clasp your hand so that your bones will break? FEKLUSHA No. I don’t like such jokes, Henry. HENRY Mr. Tile, and not Henry! If I see you again in any way disrespectful to me, Feklusha, my old comrade, the only friend of Henry Tile, I will not only break your hand, but I will break every bone in your body. Do you hear? FEKLUSHA It was unintentional. How could I allow myself to be disrespectful to you? My God, don’t I understand the difference? HENRY Well said! Empty your glass and let us go at once to your little tavern. There you will keep quiet and drink until your eyes turn green, and I will drink, laugh, bang the table, and talk about the foolish, dead Henry Tile. Come! FEKLUSHA _Rising._ I was going to ask you something, since you are so kind. Of course, I am a married man, but why shouldn’t we go to a certain house on the way from the tavern? The women there are excellent, they are even intelligent. Really! It would be nice for you, too. HENRY Foolish and vulgar. You are a dreadfully petty scamp, you are a rabbit. Come! FEKLUSHA _Emptying his glass._ Right away. Well, then, we won’t. I am not a scamp at all. I am simply an unfortunate man. If my child is ill—I am coming. HENRY Turn out the light. _They turn out the light and go out. For some time the stage is empty. Then the door from the other rooms opens slowly, a careful whisper is heard, and two shadows, dimly lighted by the lantern in the street, move in the room. The restrained laugh of a woman is heard._ CARL _Loudly and firmly_: There’s no one here. They went away. You may come in. Don’t be afraid. WOMAN’S VOICE Oh, I hurt my knee. _Laughs._ We are here like thieves. CARL I can’t find the switch. I think it is here. Wait, Liza, don’t go before I turn on the light. ELIZABETH No, don’t turn on the light, wait. I am sitting in an armchair. But I don’t realize where I am. It is terribly interesting. We are like thieves in a strange apartment. They also sit in armchairs and look around this way. Let us make believe we are thieves, Carl. _Jestingly, in a threatening whisper_: Let us kill and rob your brother Henry Tile. CARL I haven’t the slightest desire to play. But it was stupid of me not to take along the flashlight. Where are you? I can’t see you. ELIZABETH Here. CARL I can’t see anything, Liza. I am falling asleep. Another night like this and another day like to-day, and I’ll fall asleep while walking. Strange! Aren’t you tired? ELIZABETH _Laughing softly_: No. CARL And I— _Yawns._ Do you ever let your husband sleep? ELIZABETH My husband—yes. But how interesting it is that we can’t see anything. I don’t know where you are sitting. What room is this? I am afraid to look at it in the light. I was in this apartment only twice. It wasn’t finished yet, but Henry showed me how it would be finished. Tell me—no, don’t turn on the light, but tell me—here, over the piano, are two pictures. Wait, I recall, yes, the head of Beethoven and some “concert”—yes? CARL No. There are no pictures here. ELIZABETH And the rugs? CARL There are no rugs here. ELIZABETH And the armchair in the corner? CARL I don’t know. I am telling you Henry left the apartment unfinished. I am tired of this, Liza. Why did you drag me here? What do you want here? ELIZABETH I want it. CARL If this isn’t your usual foolishness, it is a perverted whim. It’s immaterial to me, but this is simply uninteresting. And if it is part of your program this evening to shed tears about the broken home, then pardon me—I’ll fall asleep. ELIZABETH I don’t remember Henry’s face. Does he resemble you? I can’t recall his face. CARL Good night. I am falling asleep. ELIZABETH You are dreadfully abominable. I am surprised that such an honest and honorable man as Henry should have such a dishonest brother. CARL And therefore, leaving the honest Henry, you became the mistress of the dishonest Carl? Correct! ELIZABETH According to you, I am also—— CARL Also what? First you betrayed Henry with your husband, now you are betraying both Henry and your husband with me. Well, your husband, of course, is a fool, but after all—and then, you are supporting me. You know, that is not particularly moral. ELIZABETH Turn on the light. CARL Gladly. _Looking for the switch._ Lizette, I don’t understand why you are so disgusted with me. You have just said so tragically, “Abominable.” There! _Turns on the light. ELIZABETH is sitting in the armchair near the piano; she covers her eyes with both hands as the light is suddenly turned on. CARL sits down again, tired, blinking at the light._ I am convenient, because you may say everything and do everything with me. The devil take them! They have been drinking punch here. That makes the picture lively. Mr. Feklusha is managing his affairs quite nicely. Punch! _ELIZABETH takes her hands away from her eyes and examines the room with fear. She wears large diamond earrings. She is beautiful._ ELIZABETH This is terrible! This is terrible! CARL It is simply tasteless. ELIZABETH No! It looks as if a crime had been committed here. A crime _was_ committed here. I am a murderess, Carl! CARL Nonsense! A woman’s nerves! But something is here—a certain interesting odor. Crime! There’s a word that should be pronounced cautiously. It has a magic effect. Ah, the devil take it. And the door. He has a key, he may come back any moment. Let us go! ELIZABETH Wait. I am looking. I love him! CARL I have no doubt. What wonderful diamonds you have, Liza! ELIZABETH I love him. Why have I done it? It wasn’t necessary, it wasn’t necessary at all. I have an enormous amount of money, but I don’t need it, I don’t need it at all. But at that time I wanted money—or didn’t I want it? I don’t know. I don’t know! Carl, I’ll give you ten thousand to-morrow, if you like. CARL I do. ELIZABETH I’ll give you twenty thousand, if you like. CARL No, you won’t, my dear. You won’t give me even ten thousand, but you will give me five hundred for this visit. I know you, my dear! But I am not complaining. I am satisfied. _Walks uneasily._ Liza, my nerves are on edge. _Stretching himself._ We must do something. Let us go driving like mad in an automobile. Come. Meanwhile, let me kiss your ear—you have such wonderful ears. ELIZABETH Ears or—earrings? CARL Both. You are such a darling. ELIZABETH Leave me alone. Don’t dare! CARL I dare. And now this one! _Kisses her ear._ ELIZABETH _Mockingly_: Karlusha! CARL _Quickly stepping away, angrily_: Please! ELIZABETH Karlusha! Karlusha! CARL _Turning pale_: I have already asked you never to call me by that foolish name. My name is Carl and not Karlusha. Please remember! ELIZABETH _Also turning pale, but continuing to laugh._ Karlusha! No! You are just Karlusha! CARL _Violently_: But I ask you—seriously! You may call me whatever you like. I will not be offended, but I can’t bear this nickname. Do you hear? Don’t irritate me. Don’t irritate me! ELIZABETH And what will happen if I do—Karlusha? CARL _Slowly_: What will happen? My brother Henry will be tried for the murder of Elizabeth. I will choke you. Silence! ELIZABETH _Retreating, in a whisper_: Karlusha, Karlusha, Karlusha! CARL _Advancing a step, also in a low voice_: Keep quiet. Will you? For the last time—— ELIZABETH _Hiding behind the armchair_: Karlusha! _CARL advances towards her silently. ELIZABETH retreats, without turning her widened eyes from him. Suddenly she stops and listens._ Hush! _Frightened._ Some one is coming. CARL _Also frightened._ Where? Ssh! ELIZABETH Footsteps. CARL No. ELIZABETH Some one is behind that door. CARL Tss. Where? _Both are pale, bending, listening attentively. Pause. The electric light is burning._ _Curtain_ ACT III SCENE I: _Night. Fog. The bank of one of the Petrograd canals. Lanterns are seen in the distance. A cast iron gate is seen distinctly in the foreground. Beyond it, the canal and the other side are enveloped in darkness, and enormous houses are outlined faintly in the background. Lights are seen in some of the windows here and there—the lights are faint and motionless like yellow spots._ _HENRY TILE and FEKLUSHA are standing and talking, half leaning against the gate. Henry is smoking a cigar._ HENRY You are drunk, Feklusha, you are absolutely drunk. Your eyes are green. Come. FEKLUSHA I won’t. HENRY Shall I call a cab? Then you won’t have to drag your feet. FEKLUSHA I don’t want to. HENRY I’ll give you some more cognac. FEKLUSHA I don’t want any. You’re drunk yourself. I don’t want to go to your apartment—leave me alone. I don’t want to! HENRY Don’t yell. FEKLUSHA I’m not yelling. _Pause._ Let me go, Henry. I will go down on my knees before you, if you like. I will go down on my knees before you, but let me go, or I will shout again. HENRY Alexandrov! FEKLUSHA I won’t. Why did you take me along? _Cries._ I was hiding, but you found me—I can’t bear it any more. I don’t want to go to that tavern any more. I don’t want your cognac, I want to go home—my wife is waiting for me. HENRY You are drunk. Don’t cry, it’s foolish. Listen, have you forgotten what you wanted to do? Try to recall! Recall! You were planning to betray me when I run away with the money—in order to get one third. That would make you rich—rich! Recall! FEKLUSHA Well, I wanted to do it, but now I don’t want to do it. I was driven insane by your maps; I began to feel like a bloodhound. I was running and running, without knowing where I was running. The day I met you on the Nevsky was cursed—I felt happy—I had found an old friend! HENRY Yes, that day was cursed. You express yourself precisely. Come to my house, come; it will be very nice there. Have you forgotten? We will light all the lamps, I will get some cognac. FEKLUSHA I won’t go. That’s my last word, Mr. Tile. HENRY Call me Henry. FEKLUSHA I don’t want to. Either you run away with your million or—to the devil with it all! To the devil! HENRY Very well, I’ll run away. Have another drink, it’s cognac. FEKLUSHA Where did you get it? _Drinks from the bottle._ Very good. And you? HENRY I’ll have a drink, too. _Drinks._ FEKLUSHA _Laughs._ Fine comrades! The people of your bank should see you now—how funny! By God! HENRY _Laughs softly._ They are sleeping, and they see in their dreams that Henry Tile is busy with his arithmetic. While Henry Tile is drinking cognac with Feklusha. _Both laugh, swaying._ FEKLUSHA Where are we? I don’t know this place. Where are we, Henry? HENRY This is the Catherine Canal. And that is the fog—and there is the water. Do you want to spit into the water? FEKLUSHA I do. _Spits._ And what is that? HENRY Those are the lighted windows of the houses on the other side. Someone is awake. FEKLUSHA And I thought only we were awake. Haven’t you any more cognac? I would drink some more. I feel cold. HENRY Come to my apartment, and I’ll give you more. There is a little round table, and on the table are cognac and punch. Are you fond of punch? FEKLUSHA _Still obstinate, but weakening_, I won’t go. Either you run away right now, or—! Why don’t you run away? What sort of a thief are you? Upon my word of honor! I’ll throw myself into the canal, by God, I will! HENRY Oh, what a sly little beast you are! You are all very sly beasts, and you want to be slier than Henry Tile, but you cannot. He will deceive you, Feklusha! I was jesting. You may run after me night and day, but you will not overtake me. You will lose your reason altogether, your eyes will turn yellow, you will be howling at the door, but you will not overtake me! FEKLUSHA My eyes are yellow now. And you are also drunk. HENRY You are foolish! I cannot be drunk. I drink this—(_Throws the bottle into the water_)—and it turns into fire, it burns like a flame. I am full of fire! FEKLUSHA I would have run away twenty times. HENRY Oh, yes. You would have run away twenty times. Another fool would have run away twenty times—and twenty times the police would have caught another fool! But I am waiting. I am thinking and waiting. Oh, I have grown tired of making plans and upsetting them, but soon I am going to have a plan which cannot be upset—and then I shall disappear. One, two, three—Uf! _Blows at his fingers._ Where is Henry Tile? Disappeared. Excuse me, he has put on a magic cap. Feklusha! Could you overtake a phantom? FEKLUSHA _Laughing plaintively_: Now it seems to me that I believe you again. You are a real tempter—a demon. I had better go home. HENRY Believe me, please, believe me! I have a remarkable mind which sees everything. You say this is the fog, and I am telling you that these are the wings on which Henry Tile will fly away. I have a remarkable mind; it thinks while others sleep. What is it thinking about? Everything! Oh, what dreams I see, what a happy man I am! _Laughs happily._ Excuse me, I pushed you. FEKLUSHA Never mind, Henry, that’s nothing. HENRY That’s impolite. Excuse me. Fools ask me, What do you do all day long, you are always alone? Why, I haven’t enough days and nights for thinking! Thinking! Thinking! They take me to see gay women, they take me as if I were sick and needed a cure, and they ask me, Isn’t it fine, Henry Tile? And I say to them, Very good! What a wonderful orgy! _Laughs._ FEKLUSHA _Also laughing_: Are the women nice? HENRY You are foolish. As if I needed women! For a trifling sum I can be immoral—how foolish! Listen, I am now thirty-four years old, and I may live another thirty-four years—and what if I should be old, that doesn’t matter. The Popes of Rome are made Popes only when they are old—that doesn’t matter. And in America—or wherever I shall be, wherever there will be the man who will emerge from the stupid skin of Henry Tile—in America I will invest my million. Oh, I know how to handle money! I have a plan, I have given much thought to it, I have considered everything, and I know a dozen combinations which will bring me a hundred millions in five years. Is that good—a hundred millions? FEKLUSHA What a question! HENRY No, Feklusha, that isn’t so good—but a thousand millions, but two thousand millions—that is good! Then I could live! Then I could amuse myself! On that I could have palaces, buy women, be the benefactor of idiots, have a Henry Tile of my own who would love accuracy—then I could amuse myself! I will amuse myself! FEKLUSHA No, I don’t want to. Leave me, Henry. My dear fellow! Why did you take me by the hand? Leave me. HENRY You must believe me, my old friend! You must love me. I have a remarkable mind. FEKLUSHA I do love you, I do love you! HENRY _Bending down towards him, softly_: Silence! Do you know that I, Henry Tile, am a criminal? I _am_! FEKLUSHA Really? At last, thank God! HENRY You can think of money only? No, it isn’t _money_. It is women—it is little children who are still lisping, “Henry, Henry!” It is the murder of human beings, it is deception, it is betrayal, mockery, falsehood, cruelty—and what else is there? What else is there that Henry Tile has not yet tried? FEKLUSHA _Faintly_: Leave me. HENRY We are going to have cognac soon—you like cognac? Or punch? My dear Alexandrov, I will give you punch, yes, as much as you like. FEKLUSHA Again punch? I don’t want any. _Rudely_: When did you manage all this? You are lying, you haven’t enough money for all that. I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense, that’s enough! HENRY _Laughing happily_: I am preparing myself, I must know everything. You remember how they taught us at school? I am preparing myself. I am painting pictures, I am a famous painter. I have achieved everything! FEKLUSHA Leave me alone. HENRY Be silent, or I will throw you into the water! I have achieved everything. They—these people—they know only the body of crime, but I, Henry Tile, I have penetrated into its soul. Oh, how I know the soul of murder! FEKLUSHA I’ll call a policeman. HENRY Keep quiet, you fool! FEKLUSHA _Loudly_: Po—— _Henry closes his mouth. A light struggle, followed by a pause. Only the frightened outcry of Feklusha and the heavy breathing of Henry are heard._ HENRY But I was only jesting. This is so foolish. I was jesting, don’t you understand? You will not cry now, will you? FEKLUSHA No. I was scared. HENRY Of course, of course! You thought I was talking seriously, and you were frightened. Don’t shiver like that, don’t shiver. You are a poor little rabbit, while I am a wolf, isn’t that so? _Laughs, trying to appear kind._ I am a wolf, am I not? FEKLUSHA I like you very much, Henry—you are my benefactor. Why should I cry? _Sobs._ Leave me, I am chilled, I may catch a bad cold. HENRY Yes, yes, it is very damp and foggy, you may catch cold, my dear fellow. Your health is very poor. You mustn’t shiver. Don’t—we will go soon. Shall we go or will you wait a little? I’ll wait. FEKLUSHA I am going in a little while. HENRY Oh, what a foolish little beast! He is shivering! But we will warm him up with hot punch, with very hot punch, and we will have some music. Do you like music, Feklusha? FEKLUSHA I do. Some one is coming. Let my hand go. HENRY _Laughing_: That is the King of the Forest, Feklusha. “The child, all shivering, is clinging to its father.” Who’s coming? Who wants to scare my little rabbit? _Laughs._ That’s nothing: It’s a lady in a large hat. It’s a beautiful woman for a song, and you will be a Don Juan to-night! FEKLUSHA No. HENRY Yes, yes. You said so yourself. Well, smile, smile—you are a splendid fellow! _A woman with a large hat and bent wet plumes emerges silently from the fog._ HENRY Good evening, beautiful lady. May I know why you are walking alone in such bad weather? _The woman looks at them silently._ HENRY _Laughing_: Don’t be silent, Feklusha, you must be a gallant cavalier. Ask her. You are a Don Juan this evening. FEKLUSHA What shall I ask her? Aren’t you afraid to walk alone, mademoiselle? HENRY _Laughing_: He says, aren’t you afraid to walk alone? Well? Now let us hear the beautiful lady’s answer. Well? _The woman is laughing and waving her hand._ WOMAN Good evening, friends. Are you laughing at me or not? What are you standing here for, at the canal? Were you waiting for me? HENRY She asks: Were we waiting for her? Well, Feklusha, answer. She is a very nice lady. FEKLUSHA What shall I answer? You are so strange, Henry! Let’s take a cab, and that’s all. What’s the use of answering? HENRY _Rejoicing_: That’s it! There’s a brave fellow! _Both laugh. The woman, after thinking awhile, also laughs._ WOMAN Are you drunk? Why do you stand near the canal? I am chilled, I am going home. What time is it? FEKLUSHA Happy people don’t watch the time. Henry, what did I say? Happy people don’t watch the time! _Laughs loudly; Henry also laughs, clapping him on the shoulder._ WOMAN If you are so happy, take me along with you. I am also happy. My friends have nicknamed me “Happy Jennie.” I bring luck with me wherever I go. They all praise me. Come, why are we standing here? The bird on my hat is afraid of the rain! FEKLUSHA _Laughing_: Happy people don’t watch the time? What? And what were you thinking of, Jennie? HENRY _Approvingly_: Yes, yes, Feklusha, you have let loose. But we must ask the beautiful lady about her price. WOMAN What’s the sense of that? You are talking nonsense. Let us go, and that’s all. HENRY Feklusha! It was Henry Tile who asked what is your price. He was afraid the price would be too high. WOMAN Oh, not at all. HENRY _Laughing_: Yes, he was afraid! But we are not afraid and we ask you to come along, Happy Jennie. Now we are all happy. FEKLUSHA All! I like her. You take her. Jennie, do you like cognac? HENRY Of course, she is coming along with us, of course. And there will be cognac, and hot punch. Come! WOMAN But where are you taking me? I am afraid to go to a strange place. FEKLUSHA We are kind people, Jennie—don’t be afraid. Henry, shall I take her arm? Jennie, your arm! Oh, what a little hand! HENRY But you are a real Don Juan! Come. And I will be your protector. Go, my dear children, I will follow. _They go. Henry follows them._ WOMAN Where are we going? FEKLUSHA Do you love me, Jennie? I am a kind man. _The bank is deserted. Fog. Night._ _Curtain_ SCENE II: _The same night. When the curtain goes up after a brief intermission, the audience sees the same unfinished room in Henry’s apartment. The room is brightly lighted. On the table are cognac and fruit._ _HENRY, FEKLUSHA and “HAPPY JENNIE” are seated at the table, drinking. They have already drunk a great deal. The table is in disorder. FEKLUSHA, intoxicated, is without a coat, in a soiled shirt and torn vest. The woman’s waist is partly unfastened, but she still wears her large hat with the wet plumes._ HENRY Have another glass, Jennie. Please. And eat this pear. WOMAN _Merci_, I feel embarrassed. You are the host but you are not drinking anything yourself! HENRY Oh, no. I am drinking, too. Please—Your health, “Happy Jennie!” FEKLUSHA I drink your health, too! WOMAN I’ll be drunk. Well, here’s to the health of the one who loves! _They drink._ WOMAN I’d like to have some lemon. How much do you pay for your apartment? HENRY Twelve hundred. WOMAN Including the porter? HENRY Oh, yes. Including the porter. WOMAN That isn’t expensive. And a nice neighborhood, too. Well— _To Feklusha_: What is it? Why do you pull me? FEKLUSHA Jennie, take off your hat! HENRY Feklusha, you are impolite to the lady, you should be attentive to her, instead of pulling her. Fie! FEKLUSHA Let her take her hat off! Tell her. Jennie, take your hat off! WOMAN What do you want of my hat? Let it dry. It’ll dry better on my head. You’re not going to buy me another one, anyway. HENRY And don’t pull her hair! WOMAN It didn’t hurt. We are having such a serious conversation here, and he bothers me. That isn’t expensive, twelve hundred—not expensive at all. But you should let some of the rooms. What’s the use of keeping them vacant? They’re empty. Ah, you have filled my glass again, how quick you are! HENRY Your health! WOMAN My health is all right. Now, really, the rooms are empty. And good rooms, too. Anybody would take them—so many people need rooms, and here they are idle. Put out a green sign in front of the house: “Two rooms to let.” HENRY And with windows on the sunny side—that is very important. WOMAN With windows facing the sun, why not? Write it out and paste it downstairs, or the porter will do it. You wouldn’t have to bother. Do you keep a cook, or do you have your meals at a restaurant? HENRY At a restaurant. You know, there is so much trouble when you have a cook. WOMAN Oh, yes, sometimes you get a cook who will give you a lot of trouble! But, oh, you men, how little you know how to live! It’s funny to look at you! HENRY Another drink! WOMAN _Merci._ Don’t you think it’s too much? I’d like some lemon. _To Feklusha_: Again? How annoying you are—what is it you want? FEKLUSHA You came up with me, not with him. Tell her, Henry! _Henry and the woman laugh._ WOMAN Of course with you, with you. Well, give me your lips. I’ll kiss you—don’t be angry. FEKLUSHA I don’t want to be. You must love me, do you hear? HENRY He is jealous. Feklusha, are you jealous? WOMAN Jealous into the bargain, just think of it. Oh, you fussy little goat! HENRY He is a very jealous rabbit! WOMAN Oh, you foolish Feklusha! Look, even your friend is laughing at you, he is thinking, how foolish you are, and your beard is like that of a goat. Oh, you little goat! _Strokes Feklusha by the beard; he laughs happily._ FEKLUSHA Let go! Jennie! WOMAN No, I won’t. Are you going to be jealous? Are you going to be jealous? You little rabbit. I was jesting a little. Now I can have another drink. Have a drink, Feklusha! HENRY She loves you. WOMAN Of course, I love him, he is so funny. Well, you gaping fool, why do you spill the drink on the tablecloth? You’re spilling it on the cloth, and it’ll have to be washed. Be careful. _To Henry_: We’ve spilled so much, excuse us! HENRY Never mind, that doesn’t matter. Have this pear, please. Why don’t you have some fruit? Feklusha, have some. FEKLUSHA I am eating. He is very kindhearted, Jennie. He is very kindhearted, isn’t he? WOMAN He is the host, but he doesn’t touch anything himself. HENRY Oh, no! FEKLUSHA I love you very much, Henry. I love him very much, Jennie—he is kindhearted. I know him well. He calls me “Alexandrov”—and I come rushing to him. You can’t get away from him—Oh, no! WOMAN Oh, I am tired sitting up this way. May I sit on the couch? It’s softer there. FEKLUSHA I’ll sit down, too. HENRY Of course, please. Alexandrov, why don’t you help the lady? WOMAN _Laughing, intoxicated_: Or I am going to wash the dishes right away. I am so foolish. Others do all sorts of things, but when I have had too much to drink, I start washing plates, cleaning knives and forks! It’s very funny! I wash a little, but I smash a heap of dishes. HENRY If that will give you pleasure—— WOMAN Oh, no. I am not drunk yet. Ah, that’s good. _Sits down on the couch._ And you, little rabbit, sit down, and I am going to tell you a little story. Once upon a time there was a little rabbit—his ears were long—Oh, so long! _She tickles Feklusha’s hand, he laughs and withdraws his hand. Henry looks at them from the distance. He is silent, as though not there at all._ FEKLUSHA Do you love me, Jennie? WOMAN I love you, I love you, of course I love you! Once upon a time there was a little rabbit. FEKLUSHA Do you feel chilly? WOMAN I feel warm now—I was chilly before. Wait, I’ll take my hat off. I’m tired of it—to the devil with it! Look at the plumes! My dear, I had been pacing the sidewalks ever since five o’clock—that’s enough to chill anybody. FEKLUSHA _Laughs._ And I have five children! WOMAN _Laughing_: Oh, you rabbit! What do you want so many children for? I had one, and lost it—and you have five! Girls? FEKLUSHA Three girls, and one little boy died—Sasha. How many is that altogether? WOMAN Well, of course, girls. Just think of it! I had a little boy, a little rascal. FEKLUSHA Now, let us count! WOMAN What’s the use of counting? You are a queer fellow. What an accountant you are—counting his children on his fingers! Stop it! FEKLUSHA You’re wrong, Jennie. It’s always best to count, or you may forget. Wait, I’ll ask him. Henry, how many children have I, eh? _Henry maintains silence, his eyes closed._ WOMAN I guess he is dozing, be quiet! Let him sleep a little. FEKLUSHA Aren’t you afraid of him? WOMAN Why should I be afraid of him? You are impolite to me, but he is very polite. I like him very much. Be quiet, let him sleep. FEKLUSHA He knows how to count! He has a million! WOMAN Really? FEKLUSHA _Laughs._ I am doing it purposely. I am sly, too. He thought I was away, but I—he is wise, but at the same time he’s a fool, a big fool. WOMAN He is wiser than you. Are you wise? Let me see. FEKLUSHA I fooled him. _Laughs._ He thought I was away, but I was standing beneath his window every night. I watched all his tracks. He can’t run away from me—Oh, no! WOMAN Don’t shout! FEKLUSHA I am not shouting. “Alexandrov!” You’ll find out the kind of man Alexandrov is! I’ll make you wince! I can cry, and I can dance, if I want to—that’s the kind of man I am. And if I want to, I can kill myself, and then, go and look for Alexandrov! “Alexandrov!” WOMAN You are just talking downright nonsense. FEKLUSHA It isn’t nonsense. You have no right to say that to me. I’ll hit you on the jaw. WOMAN What an angry rabbit you are! FEKLUSHA No, I am not a rabbit. I am a man. It was he who made me a rabbit, but I am a man. I have no ability, but I am a man. I have a heart beating here, I believe in God, but he doesn’t. What right has he? _Crying_: I can’t bear it any more! WOMAN Now, now! What is it you can’t bear? FEKLUSHA _Weeping_: I can’t bear it any more! WOMAN Stop it, I am sick of it. Or I’ll fall asleep, do you hear? FEKLUSHA Kiss me. WOMAN First he cries, then he wants me to kiss him. There! FEKLUSHA I don’t want you to kiss me. Your nose is crooked. Why did you come here with a crooked nose? Get out! WOMAN Get out yourself! Just think of him! You didn’t invite me here. Get out yourself! You nasty little rabbit! FEKLUSHA Jennie! HENRY _Loudly_: Alexandrov! Do you want some more cognac? Now, now—no fighting. Don’t raise your hand! FEKLUSHA I am not fighting. It is she. HENRY You had a little quarrel? That’s nothing. That’ll pass. Have some cognac, Happy Jennie. FEKLUSHA _Laughs._ Her nose is crooked, Henry. The devil brought her to us! WOMAN And who brought you? _Puts on her hat angrily._ HENRY Oh, aren’t you ashamed, Alexandrov? You are offending our guest! That isn’t right. What sort of a man are you? FEKLUSHA _Laughs._ The devil brought her here. HENRY Then you should be grateful to him, and not angry. If the devil had brought me such a woman, I would have said to him, Thank you! And I would have clasped his hairy, honest hand! _Laughs._ Oh, yes, that would be an honest hand! Or do you think that the devil cannot have an honest hand? What do you think, Jennie? WOMAN There are all kinds of devils, just as there are all kinds of people. HENRY _Solemnly_: Do you hear, Alexandrov, you fool? Drink, liven up your dull brain! Drink, Jennie, drink some more—drink faster! Soon the cock will crow. My night is passing, and I haven’t had a single one of my dreams. Drink faster. Swallow the fire! Here I, Henry Tile, am swallowing fire! Look! One, two, three! _Drinks a large glass of cognac._ FEKLUSHA I too! Look, Henry! I too! _Empties his glass, coughs; the woman, laughing, taps him on the shoulder._ WOMAN So will I! HENRY He too! All of us! Drink faster, I beg you, my dear guests, I beg you: drink faster! The night is passing rapidly, but we must be faster than the night. Let us rush like wild horses. Do you know how to neigh like a horse, Feklusha? FEKLUSHA I do. What time is it? I must go to work to-morrow. HENRY What work? You are out of your mind. What work are you talking about? Have you forgotten, my old friend, have you forgotten that you are working for me? FEKLUSHA I am done for! _Drinks._ Jennie, drink! WOMAN I’m drinking. _Laughs._ You’re driving us fast. _They drink, loudly clanking their glasses._ HENRY Jennie, kiss Feklusha. Feklusha, kiss Jennie. WOMAN Drinking and kissing! HENRY Quick. I want to see how a man kisses the woman he loves. Just think of it, I have never seen it. Well? FEKLUSHA Well? WOMAN _Laughing._ There! _They kiss._ HENRY More—more—more passionately! Ah! That’s the way! WOMAN _Laughing_: What a queer fellow—he’s never seen it before. Now, my little rabbit, we are like husband and wife—we kissed each other three times. FEKLUSHA I love you. HENRY Good! Oh, I know something else. We are all going to laugh soon. Wait. I’ll be back in a minute—just a minute! _Goes to his bedroom quickly._ WOMAN I am drunk, my dear little rabbit—the whole room is dancing before my eyes. _Laughs._ What is he up to now—the flatterer? FEKLUSHA Kiss me some more. Everything seems to be dancing. It’s so funny! WOMAN That’ll do. Let me rather stroke your head now. What thin hair the little rabbit has—the crows seem to have pulled them out. Have the crows pulled out your hair, little rabbit? FEKLUSHA The crows. _Henry Tile enters, with changed make-up, and changed walk. He has on a light wig, baldheaded, and red beard. His cheeks are very red. He stops and looks silently at the frightened woman and at Feklusha._ WOMAN Who is that? Listen! FEKLUSHA Look here, there’s nobody here! Who’s that? Why are you staring at us like that? _Calls, frightened_: Henry, somebody is here! _Henry laughs triumphantly._ HENRY _Distorting his words_: Permit me to ask you: Is Henry Tile at home or has he fled already? I am an Englishman—Sir Edward Thomson. I am red-headed. FEKLUSHA Is it possible? Henry! By God, I have sobered up! I was wondering who it was—I was scared to death. Is it possible? _Laughs. Henry and the woman also laugh._ HENRY You didn’t recognize me? FEKLUSHA How could I? And your figure, even the figure—and that red beard! _Laughs._ WOMAN And baldheaded. But why baldheaded? HENRY Look! _He walks across the room with a changed gait, imitating an Englishman._ FEKLUSHA Wonderful, quite a different man. I don’t understand a thing! I am out of my mind. Is that you, Henry? HENRY I. I can change my walk, I can change my voice, and everything else. Every night I put on this costume, I look at myself in the mirror, and I walk up and down this room alone. I am practicing. Do you understand me now, you fool? FEKLUSHA That’s what I call wonderful. That’s really wonderful. Jennie, do you see? It isn’t enough to kiss his hand—that’s what I say. HENRY _Changing his voice_: Don’t you want some music, Mr. Alexandrov, and you, my beautiful lady? I am a musician, and at your service. FEKLUSHA I do, please, let us have it. Jennie, music! HENRY I am a famous musician. Listen, Feklusha, I will play for you “The Waltz of the Dogs.” Listen! _He sits down with his usual affected manner, emphasizing it, and plays “The Waltz of the Dogs,” explaining as he plays_: Little dogs are dancing. Nice little dogs. Ti—ta—ta! FEKLUSHA Little dogs—well, well! HENRY This way. This way. They pull them by a string—they hold out bits of sugar—ta-ta-ti-ti-. And then the little dogs lift their feet—this way—this way—and they dance—the foolish little dogs. This way, this way! FEKLUSHA More! Please, play it again! WOMAN More! More! HENRY No. That’s enough. _He walks away from the piano quickly; he stares at the woman furiously, and then at Feklusha, and he stamps his foot._ Who am I? Oh you fools! The best musicians in the world will play for me, and I will step with my foot—I will crush their stupid violin with my foot, and will say “Enough!” I will stand with my feet upon your stupid music! Enough! The most beautiful of women will fall at my feet and kiss the mud of my soles, and I will stand with my foot upon her beautiful naked breast and say, Enough! And she will be crushed while still kissing with dying lips. Enough! I will cry! Enough, you foolish, trivial, unworthy—creature! _He bangs the piano with great force._ WOMAN Oh, don’t! Better play some more. FEKLUSHA Don’t, Henry. I am afraid! You’d better play—about the little dogs. Let the little dogs dance again. HENRY The little dogs? FEKLUSHA Yes. _Laughs happily._ How they pull them by the string, and they lift their little feet, their little feet! _Raises his feet._ HENRY Their little feet? FEKLUSHA Yes. Please. I like it. HENRY Yes, yes. _Laughs._ He likes it, he likes it. Very well, then, the little dogs. WOMAN AND FEKLUSHA _Begging_: The little dogs?... HENRY _Sitting down at the piano; with changed voice._ Listen! I am a famous musician, and here I am playing for you the famous “Waltz of the Dogs.” Dance. _He plays_ “The Waltz of the Dogs.” _Feklusha, raising his hands, and imitating a dog dancing, turns around easily on his toes. His face is serious and solemn. The woman joins him. Raising her hands, she also dances turning around easily, as in a dream. Her face, too, is serious and attentive._ _Turning around his red head and red cheeks, showing his white teeth, Henry looks back at them, laughing and playing._ _Curtain_ ACT IV _The same scene. Night. ELIZABETH, CARL and FEKLUSHA are in the room._ ELIZABETH I should like to see the other rooms. Would it be right? I don’t know. CARL Why not? Look around, if it gives you pleasure. You needn’t pay any attention to Feklusha. We are friends now. But how fat I am getting, Liza—have you noticed it? ELIZABETH Yes. CARL It’s almost indecent. I gained another pound last week, in spite of my exercise and horseback riding. I’ll have to get a masseur. Mr. Feklusha, what do you do in order to be so thin? You will soon look like an Indian fakir. FEKLUSHA What? Yes. I have grown very thin. CARL How much do you weigh? FEKLUSHA What? I don’t know, I have never weighed myself. CARL Liza, don’t you think our friend Feklusha looks like a lunatic who has escaped from an asylum? But why don’t you look at the other rooms, Liza? Go. We will chat here. What are you looking at? ELIZABETH Carl, is it possible that eighteen months have passed since we were here? Look—the same music. CARL Yes, Henry is conservative. I suppose eighteen months have passed—I don’t know. But Liza, I don’t understand the charms of these heartrending recollections. In this respect I am a European. The Russians don’t live, they only remember something—and whatever they say or whatever they write, is always like a recollection. ELIZABETH And Henry? CARL Henry? I must say that I hardly know my brother Henry. Still, I am convinced that if he came in now, he would drive both of us out—notwithstanding the charms of your recollections. Make haste, my dear. FEKLUSHA He won’t be here so soon. I know his habits. CARL So much the better. I wouldn’t like to quarrel with Henry. ELIZABETH My husband is dead, and my child is dead, but here nothing has changed. There will be the head of Beethoven—when is it going to be there? Carl, I am going into the other rooms. I’ll be back soon. CARL Go. The switch is near the door, you’ll find it easily. Mr. Feklusha, sit down near me. _Exit Elizabeth. Feklusha sits down near Carl._ CARL Well, Mr. Feklusha? Why do you smell of sour beer? You always think up something new. You look either sick or drunk. Why do you stare at me this way? Well? FEKLUSHA It’s done. CARL What’s done? FEKLUSHA He’s insured. For a hundred thousand—as agreed. CARL _Rising._ Really? Where is the policy? Has he the policy? FEKLUSHA The policy will soon be here. They promised to have it in a few days. I am telling you the truth. CARL Yes? _Walks._ CARL No! No. You are lying, Mr. Feklusha, you are lying, I can see it! You are a perfectly unbearable fool—why do you lie to me? A queer man who doesn’t understand his own advantage—and lies into the bargain. Or are you sorry to lose the cognac you are drinking with Henry? But you have already drunk yourself sick—you need a hospital now—your eyes are like those of a mad dog. We, the Tiles, we can drink much. We come of strong stock, but I wouldn’t advise you to drink much more! FEKLUSHA I haven’t touched a drink in a month now. Enough! CARL That sounds pretty strong for Feklusha, but if that’s the case, why are your eyes so half-witted? And what is it you like so much about Henry? He treats you like a scamp. Or is it that you are sorry for him, that you have human feelings? FEKLUSHA Yes, I am sorry for him. Why shouldn’t I feel sorry for him? CARL Fie! Drop it! It’s disgusting to hear you talk! Besides, I’ll tell you frankly—I know something about medicine, and I tell you that in a year from now no insurance company will take a risk on Henry. There are certain symptoms, you understand, which I don’t like at all—I am afraid for him. FEKLUSHA In a week—or two—the policy will be here. CARL Do you want me to believe that? FEKLUSHA It will be here. CARL I want you to know that I am not particularly interested. I live quite well now, and soon—meanwhile it is a secret—I am going to marry Elizabeth. And do you know how much money she has? Well. I suppose you haven’t prepared that note either—it’s impossible to have any dealings with you. FEKLUSHA I have prepared it. Here it is. CARL _Reading_: “I ask that no one be blamed for my death. I leave no will. Give my servant Ivan five hundred rubles. Henry Tile.” So. Was that your idea—the five hundred for Ivan? FEKLUSHA Yes. CARL You are a wonderful criminal, Feklusha. I take back everything unpleasant I have ever said to you. I know Henry’s handwriting. This is a masterpiece. Most remarkable! Is that his paper, too? FEKLUSHA Yes, from his desk. Give it back to me. CARL How old are you—forty? I must tell you that you have been forty years a blockhead! To bury such a talent in the ground! It’s inexcusably stupid! With such a genius for forging handwritings you could have made a fortune long ago. It’s stupid! FEKLUSHA Let me have the note. CARL _Putting the note away in his pocketbook._ Oh, no, you don’t get that! Show me the policy, then you’ll get your masterpiece—then it will be in safe hands. _Comprenez_, Mr. Feklusha? FEKLUSHA _Hesitating_: Very well. You are a great criminal yourself, Carl. CARL _Indifferently_: So-so. I must live somehow—money does not lie in the streets. Give me a million, then you may demand honesty of me. But to ride in a cab, while others are driving about in automobiles—thank you. But there is one thing of which you must beware—that’s greed! That’s what kills people like us. Here is Liza. Well, how is it, Lizette, have you shed tears there? ELIZABETH Carl, it is terrible. CARL What is it, Lizette? Ghosts? ELIZABETH Don’t laugh. One of the rooms is only partly covered with wall paper. Dust, lime, spiderwebs—what room is that? I forget what he told me that time—what is that terrible room? CARL I don’t know. Henry has so many absurd fantastic ideas. I think it’s the nursery. _Laughs._ For your unborn children, Lizette! FEKLUSHA Yes, the nursery. In his excitement at that time, Henry ordered them not to touch the room—I suppose it has been neglected since then. ELIZABETH Go out, Carl, and ask Alexandrov to go out with you for awhile. I want to stay here alone. Do you mind? CARL Not at all. Let us go out, Feklusha, and chat. You are fascinating like a bride this evening—I am really fond of you. Call us, Liza. _They go out. Elizabeth remains alone, holding an embroidered handkerchief. She wears large diamond earrings._ ELIZABETH How strange! Three years have passed. My husband and my child are dead and buried, and here everything is the same as it was—and the apartment is waiting for me. Who am I? Liza. I have come purposely from Moscow. I came here before—I came to Henry. He was not at home, and I waited. Then I could come in and wait. Henry, I am waiting for you! _Pause._ Henry, I am waiting for you. _Pause. Elizabeth weeps._ I love you, Henry! I am happy to kiss the table at which you sit, to kiss the floor on which you walk, to kiss the room in which I did not want to live. I? I don’t know. Who else if not I? I love you, Henry. I swear by the Almighty God, I love you, Henry, and I never loved anyone but you, and I never called anyone but you! You are strong, and you do not forgive. You drove me out when I knocked at your door. Go, you said. Go, unworthy Elizabeth—you said, and shut the door. And I went away. I love you, Henry. _Weeps._ Why are you so sad, if you do not love me, Henry? Yesterday you were walking along the bank of the canal, you thought you were alone, but I was riding in a carriage and looking at you from the window. You were so sad! And I fell in love with you all over again, like a little girl—you thought you were alone—you walked sadly and saw no one. Perhaps you were even crying, Henry? Perhaps you were also thinking of the unborn children? Oh, what terrible words—unborn children! Who were not born? Who did not see the light? Who were expected here and who failed to come? Who were not born? Who failed to come? Henry! Henry! _Pause._ God, make it so that my soul shall remain here, that it shall turn into the air that would embrace him! He will come home sad—and suddenly he will feel a certain warmth, he will smile and say: “Why is it so nice in this room? How nice! Who is kissing me? Is that you, Liza? Is that you, Liza?” _Weeps._ Your mother, who died long ago and cannot curse me, because she died long ago—she taught you to play; you were then a little boy and she moved your little fingers—you had such tiny fingers then. Afterward, you played for me—I was sitting here, and you were playing, and you wanted me to laugh, but I suddenly felt sad and terrified. I suddenly commenced to hate you and your apartment. I commenced to hate your mother—I felt sad and terrified! I did not understand anything at the time, and I went to Moscow. But now I know. You were playing about the unborn children—your laughter was sad. Henry, why did you play for me? Who were not born? Who did not see the light? For whom were they waiting here—waiting—waiting—and who failed to come? Henry! _Weeps._ I love you, Henry! _Weeps. Kneels and lowers her head on the keys of the piano. Then rises, adjusts her hair and wipes her forehead as though driving something away. Calls_: Carl! _Enter FEKLUSHA and CARL._ CARL Well, shall we go home? It’s time. The devil knows what it is, Liza. I have just been boasting to Feklusha about my health—and suddenly I feel a most annoying palpitation of the heart! Do you think it’s heart trouble? ELIZABETH I don’t think so. Let’s go. Good night, Alexandrov. CARL I don’t think it’s heart trouble, but it’s dreadfully disagreeable. Well, to the devil with everything, I must start my massage treatment to-morrow! Good-by, Feklusha, and please don’t disturb me the next few days. I am going to rest—come in to see me in about a week. Or rather I will write you when to come. ELIZABETH Come, let us go, Carl! CARL Wait a minute. I have waited for two hours at a time for you, so you may wait for me a minute. Remember, Alexandrov, I will write you when to come. But see that everything is ready, understand? It is high time for you to stop being such a fool—you have children. Well, let us go. I hope we won’t meet Henry now. The devil take your fancies, Liza!... _They go out._ FEKLUSHA _Says to Carl in the corridor_: The door shuts itself. CARL’S _Voice_ I know. Good-by. FEKLUSHA Good-by. _Feklusha remains alone. He sits down at the table, takes out of his pocket an envelope and a carefully folded sheet of paper; reads_: “I ask that no one be blamed for my death. I leave no will. Give my servant Ivan five hundred rubles. Henry Tile.” So. Very well. He thinks that I prepared one note, but I made two—the fool Karlusha. He is greedy, but foolish. And he didn’t see that his note didn’t have the date, while no one would write a note like that without dating it—foolish Carl! And the _r_ in the other note is different from Henry’s _r_—he didn’t notice that either in his greed. Such fools get caught. _Goes over to the mirror, takes out a comb, combs his hair._ They’re coming out! I suppose it’s consumption—I feel cold and I perspire—but I’ll show you my consumption! _He walks up and down the room, examining things with contempt._ I’ll show you! _He tries to open the locked drawer in the table, looks over papers, and pushes them aside with contempt._ Order! Scoundrels! I’ll show you order! _Sits down at the table and shakes his hands._ It would be fine to put a bomb under the Nicholas Bridge and blow it to pieces—so that all would fly to hell. Yes. And I could put a bomb under the whole city, a bomb of tens of thousands of pounds—then I would also be blown to the devil. No, why should I? A wire could be stretched as far as Shuvalovo and a button placed somewhere on a tree, in the woods—I could press it once—and they would all be blown to hell! I think I’ll wind up in a lunatic asylum—I was turning round and round, and now I can’t disentangle myself. Oh, fiddlesticks! _Thoughtfully_: They’ll beat me there. They say they beat people there—they break their ribs—that’s unpleasant. And the food, they say, is poor there—the lunatics don’t understand, but as soon as one of them complains, they break his ribs. They say to him, don’t lie! The lunatic has no rights whatever, that is very unjust. Of course a lunatic may be quiet, then no one will touch him. The wardens like the quiet lunatics. I suppose they also suffer a great deal. Oh, yes! Of course—quietly. _Rises and walks ever faster._ It’s easy for you to say, quietly. Yes. It’s easy for you to say it, but for me, it’s dreadful—very dreadful. _He turns around the room senselessly; muttering indistinctly, without noticing that Henry Tile has entered._ HENRY Good evening, Feklusha. FEKLUSHA What? What? HENRY I say: good evening. Why are you running round like that? FEKLUSHA I? Nothing. Good evening, Henry. HENRY You were muttering. Are you ill? FEKLUSHA _Laughs._ Was I? There was no one to talk to, so I was talking to myself. I have found myself a comrade just as wise as I am. HENRY What were you talking about? FEKLUSHA My nonsense is of no interest to anybody. I was just talking about domestic affairs. Is it raining? HENRY Yes, it’s raining. _Sits down, fatigued._ FEKLUSHA Henry, Ivan has gone out. He said you sent him away for the evening. HENRY Yes, I sent him away. Sit down, please, and keep quiet. _Silence._ FEKLUSHA What is it, Henry? Why do you look so pale—are you ill? Perhaps you ought to see the doctor. HENRY No. I am well. I suppose I am tired—I had to talk a great deal at the conference to-day—I had to discuss business. I argued with the fools and I am tired. Are you going to stay long to-night? FEKLUSHA No. Just a minute. I am going soon. _Pause._ HENRY What a pity I have no fireplace. I thought of everything, but forgot about a fireplace. It’s true, we have steam heat. Well? FEKLUSHA Henry! There has been a change in your plans. Even if you swear to me! HENRY Yes? Wait. What’s this odor of perfume? Yes, I can smell it. Have you commenced to use perfume? FEKLUSHA You are inventing now! I can’t smell any perfume here. HENRY Yes, there is. But that isn’t important. What did you want to say to me? Tell me. FEKLUSHA I have told you. There has been a change in your plans. Tell me the truth, Henry, I will kneel before you. I haven’t been in church in five years, but I will go to church now and pray for you. Tell me the truth! HENRY You are fond of kneeling. What truth? I am tired to-night. FEKLUSHA Why, my dear fellow! We have been friends—remember, when we were small, when we were at school together. Tell me! Spare my life, I can’t endure it any longer! _Weeps._ HENRY You are also crying? Strange. For some reason I see so many tears to-day. I was at the station this afternoon. FEKLUSHA _Sighing, wiping his eyes with a soiled handkerchief_, What were you doing at the station? HENRY I was watching the trains. No, I was sending off a letter. And there I saw an old woman in a shawl, walking on the platform—she was alone—and she was crying. Strange! _Thoughtfully._ FEKLUSHA People rarely cry in the street. Only when they are drunk or when they go to a relative’s funeral. Henry, listen to me—or I am going to cry again! HENRY Really? Don’t. No, there is no change in my plan. And beginning to-morrow you will have rest—I am leaving to-morrow. FEKLUSHA _Reddening_: To-morrow? By what route? HENRY Tss! It is hard for me at this moment to talk to you, my old comrade, but come in to-morrow and you will know everything. _Smiling_: But don’t try to run after me—you’ll not overtake me! FEKLUSHA Why do you say that? HENRY Yes, yes, you are a sly little beast! FEKLUSHA A fool is not helped even by his slyness—he will only fool himself. Shall I come in early—before going to the office? HENRY You may come in early. Now go home and sleep peacefully, Feklusha, my old comrade. Are your children well? FEKLUSHA I suppose they are well. Why have you stopped drinking cognac? Henry, your face seems to have grown darker. HENRY I don’t feel like drinking. Go. FEKLUSHA To-day is just a month since we had our last drink of cognac. Remember? Well, I am going, I won’t disturb you. _Quietly_: Have you put the money away in a safe place? HENRY Ssh! Keep quiet. Good night, Feklusha, go. Have you rubbers on? It’s raining hard. Good-by, till to-morrow. FEKLUSHA If it’s till to-morrow, it’s not good-by, but _au revoir_. _Au revoir_, Henry. Good night. And I tell you, you are doing well to leave this apartment! I never said anything before, but now I may tell you: Leave it as soon as you can! If one should stay here alone for one hour, he’d lose his mind, by God! HENRY Yes, I am leaving it. Good-by. FEKLUSHA Good night. May I say another word? I understand everybody and I can tell people by their faces. I can tell their inclinations, but here I am looking at you. You are very stern! _Softly_: And if I didn’t know your thoughts—— HENRY Ssh! FEKLUSHA _With sudden fury_: Don’t hiss to me! There are no strangers here! What do you mean? I can hiss, too. _Pause._ Excuse me, Henry! _Goes._ HENRY The door shuts itself. FEKLUSHA I know, Henry. _Goes. Henry looks after him, suddenly stops._ HENRY Wait. It’s raining hard. Here’s money for a cab. Take it. FEKLUSHA Thank you. Why so much? You embarrass me, really. HENRY Never mind. Go. _Feklusha stops at the door, looks at his hand._ FEKLUSHA Henry! I am looking at my hand and I wonder. You gave me twenty-five rubles, but why am I not rejoicing? Of course, it isn’t such a large sum, but if this happened before, I would have felt happy. And now, I feel—or does it seem so to me after my tears?—I feel as if I ought to get more for my tears. Or is it figured out right? _Without raising his eyes_: Excuse me. _Exit. Door is heard closing. Henry is alone. He looks at the watch._ HENRY It’s eleven. I must take off my collar. _He takes off his collar, his cuffs, his coat, and places them carefully on the armchair. He walks up and down the room heavily and slowly. He tries to wipe the window pane, behind which the rain is heard._ Yes. It’s eleven o’clock now, and the sun rises at about seven. How many more hours of darkness? Many—never mind the exact number, Henry! Henry Tile, say simply, many! Many hours, much darkness! I have never given any thought to what people do when they end their life, when they kill themselves, and now I feel very strange, I don’t know what to do. Perhaps it is necessary to sit at the table, and I am walking? I must sit down. _He sits down, but soon gets up and walks again._ No, nonsense! Suicides don’t think whether they should walk or sit. I suppose they walk around. But where does this odor of perfume come from? Such sweet, strange, sad perfume. Women who are young and who want love, use such perfume. But their hearts are sad—sad perfume! Sad women, and Elizabeth—now I don’t remember her, but there was a time when I loved her—there was something—there was sadness. My God! Why do I say My God? My God! I don’t know anything, I don’t remember anything, I don’t love anybody! A murderer? A thief who has stolen a million? Henry Tile who loved accuracy? I don’t know. There was everything—and there was nothing. Why did I strike the table with my fists, why did I cry? Why did Henry Tile write figures, columns of figures, an endless caravan in an endless desert? There was everything—and there was nothing. There was a strange man who tossed about, who shouted, who donned a red wig like a clown, who swallowed fire. And there was another strange man who worked in the bank, who dismissed clerks, who looked stern and who was known as Henry Tile. What nonsense—“Henry Tile!” And who will lie in a coffin—Henry Tile or the other one? And where shall I be? Here I have already thought about the coffin—white, with tassels. I am terrified. Is it possible that all is ended? I am terrified. Has _this_ really come? I have lived and lived—and suddenly this. _This!_ How horrible! Horrible! _This!_ No! No! I am not afraid. I am not afraid. Oh, beware of deception, beware of deception, beware of deception! And so, the coffin, white, with tassels, and some one is in it. Yes, of course. It is dreadful to Henry Tile with his figures, it is dreadful to that other one who wanted to steal, to kill some one, to violate, who put on the stupid red wig of a rogue. But where am I? My God, great wisdom and love, answer me: Where was I with my great, sad and lonely soul? I am no more. There is no one. There is nothing. There is only horror—and _this_.—_This._ Henry, Henry, my dear, be calm; you knew how to strike the table with your fist, now you must be calm. Yes. Good. Yes. I am cold. No, I am not cold, but it is cold here. Why did I take off my coat? I must put it on again. These are the kind of cuffs Henry Tile used to wear. _Forgets to put on the coat._ But this is unbearable. These empty rooms have such a terrible effect on me—as though there was a murderer there. A murderer is hiding in every room and waiting. It would be well to turn on the lights there, but I am afraid to go in. But here I can do it. Oh, here I can do it. _He turns on some more lights._ Now it is light. But what a queer strange room. And there is absolutely no one here. I smell the odor of perfume again—who has perfume here? Have the murderers perfume here? May the devil take the one who invented it. I must go into the bedroom. _Opens the drawer of the table, takes out a revolver and examines it in a businesslike manner, puts it on the table._ I must shoot myself where I sleep. I must cover myself over my head with the quilt, as though I were going to sleep; then I won’t notice it. Yes. I must do something else—what? I have forgotten everything. What? Oh, yes. I must write a note. Paper, ink, ink? No! I don’t need any notes. That’s nonsense. There was everything—and there was nothing, and _this_. _This._ I must go into the bedroom. What have I forgotten? My God, why do I say, My God? My God, what have I forgotten? What? _He sits down at the piano._ Now I will play “The Waltz of the Dogs.” Listen, Henry Tile, I will play for you for the last time my favorite “Waltz of the Dogs.” My mother taught me to play it this way. _He plays, at first loudly, then ever more softly. Towards the end, he breaks off a musical phrase, his head falls on the piano, and he sobs softly. Then he closes the piano silently and carefully, takes the revolver and goes to the bedroom. He stops, and says impatiently_: What else? Oh, what else? _He looks around the room perplexedly._ I must—I must—what must I? I must shut off the light, yes, I must do it. It will burn all night. Let it burn. _He goes into the bedroom. A moment of silence. He soon comes out of the bedroom, without a vest—he looks for something silently, as if he has either forgotten something, or could not find it. He is looking for something and not finding it, having stopped thinking of what he was looking for, he goes to the bedroom quickly._ _The room is empty for a while. A dull shot is heard._ _Curtain_ *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WALTZ OF THE DOGS *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. 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