Redemption and Two Other Plays
by
Leo Tolstoy et al

Part 1 out of 6



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REDEMPTION AND TWO OTHER PLAYS

By LEO TOLSTOY

Introduction By ARTHUR HOPKINS







CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION BY ARTHUR HOPKINS
REDEMPTION
THE POWER OF DARKNESS
FRUITS OF CULTURE




INTRODUCTION

After making a production of _Redemption_, the chief feeling of the
producer is one of deep regret that Tolstoi did not make more use of
the theatre as a medium. His was the rare gift of vitalization: the
ability to breathe life into word-people which survives in them so
long as there is any one left to turn up the pages they have made
their abode.

In the world of writing, many terms that should be illuminative have
become meaningless. So often has the barren been called "pregnant,"
the chill of death "the breath of life," the atrophied "pulsating,"
that when we really come upon a work with beating heart we find it
difficult to give it place that has not already been stuffed to
suffocation with misplaced dummies.

We seat it at table with staring wax figures and bid it to join the
feast. There is no exclusion act in art, no passport bureau, not even
hygienic segregation.

In writing the briefest introduction to Tolstoi's work, I am appointed
by the publisher, a sort of reception committee of one to escort the
work to some fitting place where it may enjoy the surroundings and
deference it deserves.

The place to which I escort it is built of words, but what words have
been left me by the long procession of previous committees? Where they
have been truthfully used they have been glorified, and offer all the
rarer material for my structure, but how often have they been
subjected to base use. Perhaps some day we will learn the proper
respect of such simple words as love and truth and life, and then when
we meet them in books we shall know how to greet them.

The study of _Redemption_ is so simple that it needs no illumination
from me. The characters may walk in strange lands without
introduction. They are part of us. Fédya is in all of us. His one cry
"There has always been so much lacking between what I felt and what I
could do" instantly makes him brother to all mankind. His simultaneous
physical degeneration and spiritual regeneration is the glory that all
people have invested in death. Tolstoi's cry against convention that
disregards spiritual struggle, and system that ignores human growth,
will find answering cries in many breasts in many lands.

Utterly disregarding effect, technique or method, Tolstoi has explored
his own soul and there touched hands with countless other souls, and
since he has trod the path of countless millions who will come after
him, the mementos of his journey will long be sought.

ARTHUR HOPKINS.


The translation of _Redemption_ here published is the one produced by
Mr. Arthur Hopkins at the Plymouth Theatre, New York, in the season of
1918-1919. The part of FÉDYA was played by Mr. John Barrymore.






REDEMPTION




CHARACTERS

THEODORE VASÍLYEVICH PROTOSOV (FÉDYA).
ELISABETH ANDRÉYEVNA PROTOSOVA (LISA). His wife.
MÍSHA. Their son.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Lisa's mother.
SASHA. Lisa's younger, unmarried sister.
VICTOR MICHAELOVITCH KARÉNIN.
SOPHIA DMÍTRIEVNA KARÉNINA.
PRINCE SERGIUS DMÍTRIEVICH ABRÉSKOV.
MASHA. A gypsy girl.
IVÁN MAKÁROVICH. An old gypsy man. Masha's parent.
NASTASÏA IVÁNOVNA. An old gypsy woman. Masha's parent.
OFFICER.
MUSICIAN.
FIRST GYPSY MAN.
SECOND GYPSY MAN.
GYPSY WOMAN.
GYPSY CHOIR.
DOCTOR.
MICHAEL ALEXÁNDROVICH AFRÉMOV.
STÁKHOV. One of Fédya's boon companions.
BUTKÉVICH. One of Fédya's boon companions.
KOROTKÓV. One of Fédya's boon companions.
IVÁN PETROVICH ALEXÁNDROV.
VOZNESÉNSKY. Karénin's secretary.
PETUSHKÓV. An artist.
ARTIMIEV.
WAITER IN THE PRIVATE ROOM AT THE RESTAURANT.
WAITER IN A LOW-CLASS RESTAURANT.
MANAGER OF THE SAME.
POLICEMAN.
INVESTIGATING MAGISTRATE.
MÉLNIKOV.
CLERK.
USHER.
YOUNG LAWYER.
PETRÚSHIN. A lawyer.
LADY.
ANOTHER OFFICER.
ATTENDANT AT LAW COURTS.
PROTOSOVS' NURSE.
PROTOSOVS' MAID.
AFRÉMOV'S FOOTMAN.
KARÉNINS' FOOTMAN.




ACT I

SCENE I

Protosovs' flat in Moscow. The scene represents a small dining room.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA, a stout, gray-haired lady, tightly laced, is sitting
alone at the tea-table on which is a samovár.

Enter NURSE carrying a tea-pot.

NURSE (enters R. I, over to table C.). Please, Madam, may I have some
water?

ANNA PÁVLOVNA (sitting R. of table C.). Certainly. How is the baby
now?

NURSE. Oh, restless, fretting all the time. There's nothing worse than
for a lady to nurse her child. She has her worries and the baby
suffers for them. What sort of milk could she have, not peeping all
night, and crying and crying?

[SASHA enters R. I, strolls to L. of table C.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. But I thought she was more calm now?

NURSE. Fine calm! It makes me sick to look at her. She's just been
writing something and crying all the time.

SASHA (to nurse). Lisa's looking for you.

[Sits in chair L. of table C.

NURSE. I'm going.

[Exits R. I.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Nurse says she's always crying. Why can't she try and
calm herself a little?

SASHA. Well, really, Mother, you're amazing. How can you expect her to
behave as if nothing had happened when she's just left her husband and
taken her baby with her?

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Well, I don't exactly, but that's all over. If I
approve of my daughter's having left her husband, if I'm ever glad,
well, you may be quite sure he deserved it. She has no reason to be
miserable--on the contrary, she ought to be delighted at being freed
from such a wretch.

SASHA. Mother! Why do you go on like this? It's not the truth and you
know it. He's not a wretch, he's wonderful. Yes, in spite of all his
weakness.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I suppose you'd like her to wait till he'd spent every
kopec they had, and smile sweetly when be brought his gypsy mistresses
home with him.

SASHA. He hasn't any mistresses.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. There you go again. Why, the man's simply bewitched
you, but I can see through him, and he knows it. If I'd been Lisa, I'd
left him a year ago.

SASHA. Oh, how easily you speak of these serious things.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Not easily, not easily at all. Do you suppose it's
agreeable for me to have my daughter admit her marriage a failure? But
anything's better than for her to throw away her life in a lie. Thank
God, she's made up her mind to finish with him for good.

SASHA. Maybe it won't be for good.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. It would be if only he'd give her a divorce.

SASHA. To what end?

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Because she's young and has the right to look for
happiness.

SASHA. It's awful to listen to you. How could she love some one else?

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Why not? There are thousands better than your Fédya,
and they'd be only too happy to marry Lisa.

SASHA. Oh, it's not nice of you. I feel, I can tell, you're thinking
about Victor Karénin.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Why not? He loved her for ten years, and she him, I
believe.

SASHA. Yes, but she doesn't love him as a husband. They grew up
together; they've just been friends.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Ah, those friendships! How should you know what keeps
them warm! If only they were both free!

[Enter a MAID L. U.

Well?

MAID. The porter's just come back with an answer to the note.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. What note?

MAID. The note Elizaveta Protosova sent to Victor Karénin.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Well? What answer?

MAID. Victor Karénin told the porter he'd be here directly.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Very well.

[MAID exits L. U.

[To SASHA.

Why do you suppose she sent for him? Do you know?

SASHA. Maybe I do and maybe I don't.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You're always so full of secrets.

SASHA. Ask Lisa, she'll tell you.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Just as I thought! She sent for him at once.

SASHA. Yes, but maybe not for the reason you think.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Then what for?

SASHA. Why, Mother, Lisa cares just about as much for Victor Karénin
as she does for her old nurse.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You'll see. She wants consolation, a special sort of
consolation.

SASHA. Really, it shows you don't know Lisa at all to talk like this.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You'll see. Sasha. Yes, I shall see.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA (alone to herself). And I am very glad. I'm very, very
glad.

[Enter MAID.

MAID. Victor Karénin.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Show him here and tell your mistress.

[MAID shows in KARÉNIN and exits door R. I.

KARÉNIN (goes C. and stands behind table C.). (Shaking hands with Anna
Pávlovna.) Elizaveta Andreyevna sent me a note to come at once. I
should have been here to-night anyway. How is she? Well, I hope.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Not very. The baby has been upset again. However,
she'll be here in a minute. Will you have some tea?

KARÉNIN. No, thank you.

[Sits chair R.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Tell me, do you know that he and she--.

KARÉNIN. Yes, I was here two days ago when she got this letter. Is she
positive now about their separating?

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Oh, absolutely. It would be impossible to begin it all
over again.

KARÉNIN. Yes. To cut into living things and then draw back the knife
is terrible. But are you sure she knows her mind?

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. I should think so. To come to this decision has caused
her much pain. But now it's final, and he understands perfectly that
his behavior has made it impossible for him to come back on any terms.

KARÉNIN. Why?

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. After breaking every oath he swore to decency, how
could he come back? And so why shouldn't he give her her freedom?

KARÉNIN. What freedom is there for a woman still married?

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Divorce. He promised her a divorce and we shall insist
upon it.

KARÉNIN. But your daughter was so in love with him?

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Her love has been tried out of existence. Remember she
had everything to contend with: drunkenness, gambling, infidelity--
what was there to go on loving in such a person?

KARÉNIN. Love can do anything.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. How can one love a rag torn by every wind? Their
affairs were in dreadful shape; their estate mortgaged; no money
anywhere. Finally his uncle sends them two thousand rubles to pay the
interest on the estate. He takes it, disappears, leaves Lisa home and
the baby sick--when suddenly she gets a note asking her to send him
his linen.

KARÉNIN. I know.

[Enter LISA R.I. KARÉNIN crosses to LISA.

I'm sorry to have been a little detained.

[Shakes hands with LISA.

LISA. Oh, thank you so much for coming. I have a great favor to ask of
you. Something I couldn't ask of anybody else.

KARÉNIN. I'll do everything I can.

[LISA moves away a few steps down R.

LISA. You know all about this.

[Sits chair R.

KARÉNIN. Yes, I know.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Well, I think I'll leave you two young people to
yourselves. (To SASHA.) Come along, dear, you and I will be just in
the way.

[Exit L. U. ANNA PÁVLOVNA and SASHA.

LISA. Fédya wrote to me saying it was all over between us. (She begins
to cry.) That hurt me so, bewildered me so, that--well, I agreed to
separate. I wrote to him saying I was willing to give him up if he
wanted me to.

KARÉNIN. And now you're sorry?

LISA (nodding). I feel I oughtn't to have said yes. I can't. Anything
is better than not to see him again. Victor dear, I want you to give
him this letter and tell him what I've told you, and--and bring him
back to me.

[Gives VICTOR a letter.

KARÉNIN. I'll do what I can.

[Takes letter, turns away and sits chair R. of table C.

LISA. Tell him I will forget everything if only he will come back. I
thought of mailing this, only I know him: he'd have a good impulse,
first thwarted by some one, some one who would finally make him act
against himself.

[Pause.

Are you--are you surprised I asked you?

KARÉNIN. No. (He hesitates.) But--well, candidly, yes. I am rather
surprised.

LISA. But you are not angry?

KARÉNIN. You know I couldn't be angry with you.

LISA. I ask you because I know you're so fond of him.

KARÉNIN. Of him--and of you too. Thank you for trusting me. I'll do
all I can.

LISA. I know you will. Now I'm going to tell you everything. I went
to-day to Afrémov's, to find out where he was. They told me he was
living with the gypsies. Of course that's what I was afraid of. I know
he'll be swept off his feet if he isn't stopped in time. So you'll go,
won't you?

KARÉNIN. Where's the place?

LISA. It's that big tenement where the gypsy orchestra lives, on the
left bank below the bridge. I went there myself. I went as far as the
door, and was just going to send up the letter, but somehow I was
afraid. I don't know why. And then I thought of you. Tell him, tell
him I've forgotten everything and that I'm here waiting for him to
come home. (Crosses to KARÉNIN--a little pause.) Do it out of love for
him, Victor, and out of friendship for me.

[Another pause.

KARÉNIN. I'll do all I can.

[He bows to her and goes out L.U. Enter SASHA L.U., goes L. over
near table C.

SASHA. Has the letter gone? (LISA nods.) He had no objections to
taking it himself?

[LISA, R. C., shakes head.

SASHA (L.C.). Why did you ask him? I don't understand it.

LISA. Who else was there?

SASHA. But you know he's in love with you.

LISA. Oh, that's all past. (Over to table C.) Do you think Fédya will
come back?

SASHA. I'm sure he will, but--

[Enter ANNA PÁVLOVNA.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Where's Victor Karénin?

LISA. Gone.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Gone?

LISA. I've asked him to do something for me.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. What was it? Another secret?

LISA. No, not a secret. I simply asked him to take a letter to Fédya.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. To Fedor Protosov?

LISA. Oh, to Fédya, Fédya.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Then it's not going to be over?

LISA. I can't let him leave me.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Oh, so we shall commence all over again?

LISA. I'll do anything you like, but I can't give him up.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You don't mean you want him to come back?

LISA. Yes, yes.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Let that reptile into the house again!

LISA. Please don't talk like that. He's my husband.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Was your husband.

LISA. No. He's still my husband.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Spendthrift. Drunkard. Reprobate. And you'll not part
from him!

LISA. Oh, Mother, why do you keep on hurting me! You seem to enjoy it.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. Hurt you, do I? Enjoy it, do I? Very well, then, if
that's the case, I'd better go.

[Pause.

I see I'm in your way. You want me to go. Well, all I can say is I
can't make you out. I suppose you're being "modern" and all that. But
to me, it's just plain disgusting. First, you make up your mind to
separate from your husband, and then you up and send for another man
who's in love with you--

LISA. Mother, he's not.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. You know Karénin proposed to you, and he's the man you
pick out to bring back your husband. I suppose you do it just to make
him jealous.

LISA. Oh, Mother, stop it. Leave me alone.

ANNA PÁVLOVNA. That's right. Send off your mother. Open the door to
that awful husband. Well, I can't stand by and see you do it. I'll go.
I'm going. And God be with you and your extraordinary ways.

[Exit L. U. with suppressed rage.

LISA (sinking into a chair R. of table C.). That's the last straw.

SASHA. Oh, she'll come back. We'll make her understand. (Going to the
door and following after her mother.) Now, Mother darling, listen--
listen--

[Exit L. U.

[All lights dim to black out.

CURTAIN



SCENE II

A room at the gypsies', dark but beautifully lit. The actual room is
scarcely seen, and although at first it appears squalid, there are
flaring touches of Byzantine luxury. Gypsies are singing. FÉDYA is
lying on the sofa, his eyes closed, coat off. An OFFICER sits at the
table, on which there are bottles of champagne and glasses. Beside him
sits a musician taking down the song.

AFRÉMOV (standing L. U.). Asleep?

FÉDYA (on couch L. Raising his hand warningly). Sh! Don't talk! Now
let's have "No More at Evening."

GYPSY LEADER. Impossible, Fedor Protosov. Masha must have her solo
first.

FÉDYA. Afterwards. Now let's have "No More at Evening."

[Gypsies sing.

GYPSY WOMAN (R. C., when they finish singing, turning to Musician who
is sitting at table R., with his back to audience). Have you got it?

MUSICIAN. It's impossible to take it down correctly. They change the
tune each time, and they seem to have a different scale, too. (He
calls a gypsy woman.) Is this it?

[He hums a bar or two.

GYPSY WOMAN (clapping her hands). Splendid! Wonderful! How can you do
it?

FÉDYA (rising. Goes to table L. back of couch and pours out glass of
wine). He'll never get it. And even if he did and shovelled it into an
opera, he'd make it seem absolutely meaningless.

AFRÉMOV. Now we'll have "The Fatal Hour."

[Gypsies sing quartette. During this song, FÉDYA is standing down
R., keeping time with the wine glass from which he has drunk.
When they finish he returns to the couch and falls into MASHA'S
arms.

FÉDYA. God! That's it! That's it! That's wonderful. What lovely things
that music says. And where does it all come from, what does it all
mean?

[Another pause.

To think that men can touch eternity like that, and then--nothing--
nothing at all.

MUSICIAN. Yes, it's very original.

[Taking notes.

FÉDYA. Original be damned. It's real.

MUSICIAN. It's all very simple, except the rhythm. That's very
strange.

FÉDYA. Oh, Masha, Masha! You turn my soul inside out.

[Gypsies hum a song softly.

MASHA (sitting on couch L. with FÉDYA). Do I? But what was it I asked
you for?

FÉDYA. What? Oh, money. Voilà, mademoiselle.

[He takes money front his trousers pocket. MASHA laughs, takes
the money, counts it swiftly, and hides it in her dress.

FÉDYA. Look at this strange creature. When she sings she rushes me
into the sky and all she asks for is money, little presents of money
for throwing open the Gates of Paradise. You don't know yourself, at
all, do you?

MASHA. What's the use of me wondering about myself? I know when I'm in
love, and I know that I sing best when my love is singing.

FÉDYA. Do you love me?

MASHA (murmuring). I love you.

FÉDYA. But I am a married man, and you belong to this gypsy troupe.
They wouldn't let you leave it, and--

MASHA (interrupting). The troupe's one thing, and my heart's another.
I love those I love, and I hate those I hate.

FÉDYA. Oh, you must be happy to be like that.

MASHA. I'm always happy when handsome gentlemen come and say nice
things to me. (Gypsies stop singing.)

[A GYPSY entering speaks to FÉDYA.

GYPSY. Some one asking for you.

FÉDYA. Who?

Gypsy. Don't know. He's rich, though. Fur coat.

FÉDYA. Fur coat? O my God, show him in.

AFRÉMOV. Who the devil wants to see you here?

FÉDYA (carelessly). God knows, I don't. (Begins to hum a song.)

[KARÉNIN comes in, looking around the room.

(Exclaiming). Ha! Victor! You're the last man in the world I expected
to break into this enchanting milieu. Take off your coat, and they'll
sing for you.

KARÉNIN. Je voudrais vous parler sans témoins.

[MASHA rises and joins the group R.

FÉDYA. Oh.... What about?

KARÉNIN. Je viens de chez vous. Votre femme ma chargé de cette lettre,
et puis--

[FÉDYA takes the letter, opens it, reads. He frowns, then smiles
affectionately at KARÉNIN.

FÉDYA. You know what's in this letter, Victor?

[He is smiling gently all the time.

KARÉNIN (looking at FÉDYA rather severely). Yes, I know. But really,
Fédya, you're in no--

FÉDYA (interrupting). Please, please don't think I'm drunk and don't
realize what I'm saying. Of course I'm drunk, but I see everything
very clearly. Now go ahead. What were you told to tell me?

KARÉNIN (is standing L. C. Shrugging his shoulders). Your wife asked
me to find you and to tell you she's waiting for you. She wants you to
forget everything and come back.

[Pause.

KARÉNIN (stiffly). Elizaveta Protosova sent for me and suggested that
I--

FÉDYA (as he hesitates). Yes.

KARÉNIN (finishing rather lamely). But I ask you not so much for her
as for myself--Fédya, come home.

FÉDYA (looking up at him, smiling rather whimsically). You're a much
finer person than I am, Victor. Of course that's not saying much. I'm
not very much good, am I? (Laughing gently.) But that's exactly why
I'm not going to do what you want me to. It's not the only reason,
though. The real reason is that I just simply can't. How could I?

KARÉNIN (persuasively). Come along to my rooms, Fédya, and I'll tell
her you'll be back to-morrow.

FÉDYA (wistfully). To-morrows can't change what we are. She'll still
be she, and I will still be I to-morrow. (Goes to the table and
drinks.) No, it's better to have the tooth out in one pull. Didn't I
say that if I broke my word she was to leave me? Well, I've broken it,
and that's enough.

KARÉNIN. Yes. For you, but not for her.

FÉDYA (down L. Politely insolent). You know ... it's rather odd, that
you, of all men, should take so much trouble to keep our marriage from
going to pieces.

KARÉNIN (revolted). Good God, Fédya! You don't think--

[MASHA crosses L., goes to FÉDYA. FÉDYA interrupting him with a
return of his former friendliness.

FÉDYA. Come now, my dear Victor, you shall hear them sing.

MASHA (whispering to FÉDYA). What's his name? We must honor him with a
song.

FÉDYA (laughing). O good God, yes! Honor him by all means. His name is
Victor Michaelovitch. (Saluting Karénin.) Victor, my lord! son of
Michael!

[The gypsies sing a song of greeting and laudation. As they begin
to sing, MASHA and FÉDYA sit on couch L.

(When song is finished.)

KARÉNIN (in an imploring tone). Fédya!

[Exits quietly L. U.

FÉDYA (business with MASHA). Where's the fur coat? Gone, eh? All
right. May the devil go with it.

FÉDYA. Do you know who that was?

MASHA. I heard his name.

FÉDYA. Ah, he's a splendid fellow. He came to take me home to my wife.
You see she loves even a fool like me, (caressing her hair) and look
what I'm doing.

MASHA. You should go back to her and be very sorry.

FÉDYA. Do you think I should? (He kisses her.) Well, I think I
shouldn't.

MASHA. Of course, you needn't go back to her if you don't love her.
Love is all that counts.

FÉDYA (smiling). How do you know that?

MASHA (looking at him timidly). I don't know, but I do.

FÉDYA. Now, let's have "No More at Evening." (As the gypsies sing,
MASHA lies on her back across his lap, looking up into his face, which
she draws down to her, and they kiss until the music begins to cease.)
That's wonderful! Divine! If I could only lie this way forever, with
my arms around the heart of joy, and sleep ... and die.... (He closes
his eyes; his voice trails away.)

[Lights dim and out, then the

CURTAIN



SCENE III

SOPHIA KARÉNINA'S boudoir. SOPHIA KARÉNINA, VICTOR'S mother, is
reading a book. She is a great lady, over fifty, but tries to look
younger. She likes to interlard her conversation with French words. A
servant enters.

SERVANT (enters R., announcing). Prince Sergius Abréskov.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (on sofa over L.). Show him in, please.

[She turns and picks up hand mirror from table back of couch,
arranging her hair.

PRINCE SERGIUS (enters R. I. Entering). J'espère que je ne force pas
la consigne.

[Crossing to sofa L. He kisses her hand. He is a charming old
diplomat of seventy.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Ah, you know well que vous êtes toujours le bien
venu.... Tell me, you have received my letter?

PRINCE SERGIUS. I did. Me voilà. (Sits L. on sofa L.) Sophia Karénina
(working up to distress). Oh, my dear friend, I begin to lose hope.
She's bewitched him, positively bewitched him. Il est ensorcelé. I
never knew he could be so obstinate, so heartless, and so indifferent
to me. He's changed completely since that woman left her husband.

PRINCE SERGIUS. How do matters actually stand?

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Well, he's made up his mind to marry her at any cost.

PRINCE SERGIUS. And her husband?

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. He agrees to a divorce.

PRINCE SERGIUS. Really?

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. And Victor is willing to put up with all the
sordidness, the vulgarity of the divorce court, the lawyers, evidences
of guilt ... tout ça est dégoûtant. I can't understand his sensitive
nature not being repelled by it.

PRINCE SERGIUS (smiling). He's in love, and when a man's really in
love--

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (interrupting). In our time love could remain pure,
coloring one's whole life with a romantic friendship. Such love I
understand and value.

PRINCE SERGIUS (sighing). However, the present generation refuses to
live on dreams. (He coughs delicately.) La possession de l'âme ne leur
suffit plus. So what is the alternative? But tell me more of Victor.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. There's not very much to say. He seems bewitched,
hardly my son. Did you know I'd called upon her? Victor pressed me so
it was impossible to refuse. But Dieu merci, I found her out. So I
merely left my card, and now she has asked me if I could receive her
to-day, and I am expecting her (she glances at her watch) any moment
now. I am doing all this to please Victor, but conceive my feelings. I
know you always can. Really, really, I need your help.

PRINCE SERGIUS (bowing). Thank you for the honor you do me.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. You realize this visit decides Victor's fate. I must
refuse my consent, or---- But that's impossible.

PRINCE SERGIUS. Have you met her?

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. I've never seen her, but I'm afraid of her. No good
woman leaves her husband, especially when there's nothing obviously
intolerable about him. Why, I've seen Protosov often with Victor, and
found him even quite charming.

PRINCE SERGIUS (murmurs). So I've heard. So I've heard.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (continuing). She should bear her cross without
complaint. And Victor must cease trying to persuade himself that his
happiness lies in defying his principles. What I don't understand is
how Victor, with his religious views, can think of marrying a divorced
woman. I've heard him say over and over again--once quite lately--
that divorce is totally inconsistent with true Christianity. If she's
been able to fascinate him to that point, I am afraid of her.--But how
stupid of me to talk all the time! Have you spoken to him at all? What
does he say? And don't you thoroughly agree with me?

PRINCE SERGIUS. Yes, I've spoken to Victor. I think he really loves
her, has grown accustomed to the idea of loving her, pour ainsi dire.
(Shaking his head.) I don't believe he could ever now care for another
woman.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (sighing). And Varia Casanzeva would have made him
such a charming wife. She's so devoted already.

PRINCE SERGIUS (smiling). I am afraid I hardly see her in the present
... tableau. (Earnestly.) Why not submit to Victor's wish and help
him?

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. To marry a divorcée? And afterwards have him running
into his wife's husband? How can you calmly suggest that a mother
accept such a situation for her son?

PRINCE SERGIUS. But, chère amie, why not approve of the inevitable?
And you might console yourself by regarding the dangers he'll avoid by
marrying this gentle, lovely woman. After all, suppose he conceived a
passion for some one----

[Convey the word "disreputable".

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. How can a good woman leave her husband?

PRINCE SERGIUS. Ah, that's not like you. You're unkind and you're
harsh. Her husband is the sort of man--well, he's his own worst enemy.
A weakling, a ne'er-do-well--he's spent all his money and hers too.
She has a child. Do you think you can condemn her for leaving him? As
a matter of fact she didn't leave him, he left her.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (faintly). Oh what a mud-pen I'm slipping into!

PRINCE SERGIUS (amused). Could your religion aid you?

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (smelling her salts). In this instance, religion would
require of me the impossible. C'est plus fort que moi.

PRINCE SERGIUS. Fédya himself--you know what a charming clever
creature he is when he's in his senses--he advised her to leave him.

[Enter VICTOR who kisses his mother's hand and greets PRINCE SERGIUS.

KARÉNIN. Ah, Prince Sergius! (Shakes hands with Prince--formally.)
Maman, I've come to tell you that Elizaveta Protosova will be here
directly. There's only one thing I ask you: do you still refuse your
consent to my marriage----

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (interrupting). And I most assuredly do.

KARÉNIN (continuing. Frowning). In that case all I ask is for you not
to speak to her about it.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. I don't suppose we shall even mention the subject. I
certainly shan't.

KARÉNIN (standing at head of sofa L.). If you don't, she won't.
(Pleadingly.) Mother dear, I just want you to know her.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. One thing I can't understand. How is it you want to
marry Lisa Protosova, a woman with a living husband, and at the same
time believe divorce is a crime against Christianity?

KARÉNIN. Oh, Maman, that's cruel of you. Life is far too complex to be
managed by a few formulas. Why are you so bitter about it all?

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (honestly). I love you. I want you to be happy.

KARÉNIN (imploringly to PRINCE SERGIUS) Sergius Abréskov!

PRINCE SERGIUS (to SOPHIA KARÉNINA). Naturally you want him happy. But
it's difficult for our hearts, wearied from the weight of years, to
feel the pulse of youth and sympathize, especially is it difficult for
you, my friend, who have schooled yourself to view Victor's happiness
in a single way....

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Oh, you're all against me. Do as you like. Vous êtes
majeur. (Sniffing into her pocket handkerchief.) But you'll kill me.

KARÉNIN (deeply distressed). Ah, Mother, please. It's worse than cruel
to say things like that.

PRINCE SERGIUS (smiling to VICTOR). Come, come, Victor, you know your
mother speaks more severely than she could ever act.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. I shall tell her exactly what I think and feel, and I
hope I can do it without offending her.

PRINCE SERGIUS. I am sure of it.

[Enter FOOTMAN.

Here she is.

KARÉNIN. I'll go. (Goes to back of sofa.)

FOOTMAN (announcing). Elizaveta Andreyevna Protosova.

KARÉNIN (warningly). Now, Mother.

[He goes out L. PRINCE SERGIUS rises.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (majestically). Show her in. (To PRINCE SERGIUS.)
Please remain.

PRINCE SERGIUS. I thought you might prefer a tête-à-tête?

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. No, no. I rather dread it. And if I want to be left
alone in the room with her, I'll drop my handkerchief. Ça dépendra.

PRINCE SERGIUS. I'm sure you're going to like her immensely.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Oh you're all against me.

[Enter LISA R. and crosses to R. C.

(Rising) How do you do? I was so sorry not to find you at home and it
is most kind of you to come to see me.

LISA (R.C.). I never expected the honor of your visit, and I am so
grateful that you permit me to come and see you.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (C.). You know Prince Sergius Abréskov?

PRINCE SERGIUS (L.--Heartily). Yes, I have had the pleasure. (Crossing
to her, he shakes hands.) My niece Nellie has spoken often of you to
me.

[Goes to L.C.

LISA. Yes, we were great friends. (She glances shyly around her.) And
still are. (To SOPHIA.) I never hoped that you would wish to see me.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. I knew your husband quite well. He was a great friend
of Victor's and used frequently to visit us in Tambov, (politely)
where you were married, I believe.

LISA (looking down). Yes.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. But when you returned to Moscow we were deprived of
the pleasure of his visit.

LISA. Yes, then he stopped going anywhere.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Ah, that explains our missing him.

[Awkward pause.

PRINCE SERGIUS (to LISA). The last time I'd the pleasure of seeing you
was in those tableaux at the Dennishovs. You were charming in your
part.

LISA. How good of you to think so! Yes, I remember perfectly.

[Another awkward silence.

(To SOPHIA KARÉNINA.) Sophia Karénina, please forgive me if what I am
going to say offends you, but I don't know how to cover up what's in
my heart. I came here to-day because Victor Karénin said--because he
said that--because he--I mean because you wanted to see me. (With a
catch in her voice.) It's rather difficult--but you're so sweet.

PRINCE SERGIUS (very sympathetic). There, there, my dear child, I
assure you there's nothing in the world to---- (He breaks off when he
sees SOPHIA KARÉNINA pointing impatiently to the floor. She has
dropped her handkerchief.) Permit me. (He picks it up, presenting it
to her with a smile and a bow; then looks casually at his watch.) Ah,
five o'clock already. (To SOPHIA KARÉNINA.) Madame, in your salon
pleasure destroys the memory of time. You will excuse me.

[He kisses her hand.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (smiling). Au revoir, mon ami.

PRINCE SERGIUS (bowing and shaking hands with LISA). Elizaveta
Protosova, au revoir.

[He goes out R.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Now listen, my child. Please believe how truly sorry
for you I am and that you are most sympathetique to me. But I love my
son alone in this world, and I know his soul as I do my own. He's very
proud--oh I don't mean of his position and money--but of his high
ideals, his purity. It may sound strange to you, but you must believe
me when I tell you that at heart he is as pure as a young girl.

LISA. I know.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. He's never loved a woman before. You're the first. I
don't say I'm not a little jealous. I am. But that's something we
mothers have to face. Oh, but your son's still a baby, you don't know.
I was ready to give him up, though--but I wanted his wife to be as
pure as himself.

LISA (flushing hotly). And I, am I not----

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (interrupting her kindly). Forgive me, my dear. I know
it's not your fault and that you've been most unhappy. And also I know
my son. He will bear anything, and he'll bear it without saying a
word, but his hurt pride will suffer and bring you infinite remorse.
You must know how strongly he has always felt that the bond of
marriage is indissoluble.

LISA. Yes. I've thought of all that.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Lisa, my dear, you're a wise woman and you're a good
woman too. If you love him, you must want his happiness more than you
want your own. You can't want to cripple him so that he'll be sorry
all his life--yes, sorry even though he never says a word.

LISA. I've thought about it so much. I've thought about it and I've
talked to him about it. But what can I do when he says he can't live
without me? I said to him only the other day, "Victor, let's just be
friends. Don't spoil your life. Don't ruin yourself by trying to help
me." And do you know what he did? He laughed.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Of course he would, at the time.

LISA. If you could persuade him not to marry me, you know I'll agree,
don't you? I just want him to be happy. I don't care about myself.
Only please help me. Please don't hate me. Let's do all we can for
him, because, after all, we both love him.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Yes, I know. And I think I love you too. I really do.
(She kisses her. LISA begins to cry.) Oh, it's all so dreadful. If
only he had fallen in love with you before you were married!

LISA (sobbing). He--he says he did--but he had to be loyal to his
friend.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA. Alas, it's all very heart-breaking. But let us love
each other, and God will help us to find what we are seeking.

KARÉNIN (entering L. I). Mother darling. I've heard what you just
said. I knew you'd love her. And now everything must come right.

SOPHIA KARÉNINA (hastily). But nothing's decided. All I can say is,
had things been different, I should have been very glad. (Tenderly.)
So very glad.

[She kisses LISA.

KARÉNIN (smiling). Please don't change. That's all I ask.

[Lights down and out.

CURTAIN



SCENE IV

A plainly furnished room, bed, table and stove. FÉDYA alone writing.

At rise MASHA is heard outside calling "FÉDYA! FÉDYA!" MASHA enters R.
I, crosses to FÉDYA on bed C. and embraces him.

FÉDYA. Ah, thank Heaven you've come. I was wasting away in boredom.

MASHA. Then why didn't you come over to us? (Sees wine glass on chair
near bed.) So, you've been drinking again? And after all your
promises!

FÉDYA (embarrassed). I didn't come over because I had no money.

MASHA. Oh, why is it I love you so.

FÉDYA. Masha!

MASHA (imitating him). Masha! Masha! What's that mean? If you loved
me, by now you'd have your divorce. You say you don't love your wife.
(FÉDYA winces.) But you stick to her like grim death.

FÉDYA (interrupting her). You know why I don't want to.

MASHA. Nonsense. They're right when they say you're no good. It's your
mind that you can never make up comfortably causing you all the worry.

FÉDYA. You know perfectly well that the only joy I've got in life is
being in love with you.

MASHA. Oh, it's always "My joy," "Your love." Where's your love and my
joy?

FÉDYA (a little wearily). Well, Masha, after all, you've got all I can
give, the best I've ever had to give, perhaps, because you're so
strong, so beautiful, that sometimes you've made me know how to make
you glad. So why torture yourself?

MASHA (kneels and puts her arms around his neck). I won't if you're
sure you love me.

FÉDYA (coming closer to her). My beautiful young Masha.

MASHA (tearfully, searching his face). You do love me?

FÉDYA. Of course, of course.

MASHA. Only me, only me?

FÉDYA (kissing her). Darling, only you.

MASHA (with a return to brightness). Now read me what you've written.

FÉDYA. It may bore you.

MASHA (reproachfully). How could it?

FÉDYA (reads).

"The snow was flooded in moonlight and the birch trees wavered
their stark shadows across it like supplicating arms. Suddenly
I heard the soft padded sound of snow falling upon snow, to
slowly perceive a figure, the slender figure of a young child
attempting to arouse itself almost at my feet--I----"

[Enter IVÁN and NASTASÏA. They are two old gypsies, MASHA'S
parents.

NASTASÏA (stepping up to MASHA). So here you are--you cursed little
stray sheep. No disrespect to you, sir. (To MASHA.) You black-hearted,
ungrateful little snake. How dare you treat us like this, how dare
you, eh?

Iván (to FÉDYA). It's not right, sir, what you've done, bringing to
her ruin our only child. It's against God's law.

NASTASÏA (to MASHA). Come and get out of here with me. You thought
you'd skip, didn't you? And what was I supposed to tell the troupe
while you dangled around here with this tramp? What can you get out of
him, tell me that? Did you know he hasn't got a kopek to his name,
didn't you?

[During scene with parents, FÉDYA sits dumbly on the bed, bewildered.
He puts his forehead against MASHA'S face and clings to her like a
child.

MASHA (sullenly). I haven't done anything wrong. I love this
gentleman, that's all. I didn't leave the troupe either. I'll go on
singing just the same.

Iván. If you talk any more, I'll pull your hair all out for you, you
loose little beast, you. (To FÉDYA, reproachfully.) And you, sir, when
we were so fond of you--why, often and often we used to sing for you
for nothing and this is how you pay us back.

NASTASÏA (rocking herself to and fro). You've ruined our daughter, our
very own, our only one, our best beloved, our diamond, our precious
one, (with sudden fury). You've stamped her into the dirt, you have.
Where's your fear of God?

FÉDYA. Nastasïa, Nastasïa, you've made a mistake. Your daughter is
like a sister to me. I haven't harmed her at all. I love her, that's
true. But how can I help it?

IVÁN. Well, why didn't you love her when you had some money? If you'd
paid us ten thousand rubles, you could have owned her, body and soul.
That's what respectable gentlemen do. But you--you throw away every
kopek you've got and then you steal her like you'd steal a sack of
meal. You ought to be ashamed, sir.

MASHA (rising, puts her arm around his neck). He didn't steal me. I
went to him myself, and if you take me away now, I'll come right back.
If you take me away a thousand times, I'll come back to him. I love
him and that's enough. My love will break through anything--through
anything. Through anything in the whole damn world.

NASTASÏA (trying to soothe her). Now, Mashenka darling, don't get
cross. You know you haven't behaved well to your poor old parents.
There, there, come along with us now.

[With greedy fingers that pretend to caress, NASTASÏA seizes her
savagely and suddenly at the end of this speech and draws her to
the door. MASHA cries out "FÉDYA! FÉDYA!" as she exits R.

IVÁN (alongside). You open your mouth again and I'll smash you dumb.
(To FÉDYA.) Good-bye, your worship.

[All exit R. I.

[FÉDYA sits as though stupefied. The gypsies exit noisily. There
is a pause. He drinks; then PRINCE SERGIUS appears, very quiet
and dignified, at the door.

PRINCE. Excuse me. I'm afraid I'm intruding upon a rather painful
scene.

FÉDYA (getting up). With whom have I the honor---- (recognizing the
Prince). Ah, Prince Sergius, how do you do?

[They shake hands.

PRINCE (in a distinguished manner). I repeat that I am afraid to be
most inopportune. I would rather not have heard, but since I have,
it's my duty to say so. When I arrived I knocked several times, but I
presume you could not have heard through such uproar.

FÉDYA. Do sit down. (PRINCE sits chair R.C.) Thanks for telling me you
heard. (Sits on bed up C.) It gives me a chance to explain it all.
Forgive me for saying your opinion of me can't concern me, but I want
to tell you that the way her parents talked to that young girl, that
gypsy singer, was absolutely unjust. She's as pure as your own mother.
My relations with her are simply friendly ones. Possibly there is a
ray of poetry in them, but that could hardly degrade her. However,
what can I do for you?

PRINCE SERGIUS. Well, to begin----

FÉDYA (interrupting). Excuse me, Prince, but my present social
position hardly warrants a visit from you.

[Smiling.

PRINCE SERGIUS. I know that, but I ask you to believe that your
changed position does not influence me in what I am about to tell you.

FÉDYA (interrogatively). Then?

PRINCE SERGIUS. To be as brief as possible, Victor Karénin, the son of
my old friend, Sophia Karénina, and she herself, have asked me to
discover from you personally what your present relations are with your
wife, and what intentions you have regarding them.

FÉDYA. My relations with my wife--I should say my former wife--are
several.

PRINCE SERGIUS. As I thought, and for this reason accepted my somewhat
difficult mission.

FÉDYA (quickly). I wish to say first of all that the fault was
entirely mine. She is, just as she always was, absolutely stainless,
faultless.

PRINCE SERGIUS. Victor Karénin and especially his mother are anxious
to know your exact intentions regarding the future.

FÉDYA. I've got no intentions. I've given her full freedom. I know she
loves Victor Karénin, let her. Personally, I think he is a bore, but
he is a good bore. So they'll probably be very happy together, at
least in the ordinary sense and que le bon Dieu les bénisse.

PRINCE SERGIUS. Yes, but we----

FÉDYA (rising, goes L., leans on table). Please don't think I'm
jealous. If I just said Victor was dull, I take it back. He's
splendid, very decent, in fact the opposite of myself, and he's loved
her since her childhood (slowly) and maybe she loved him even when we
were married. After all, that happens, and the strongest love is
perhaps unconscious love. Yes, I think she's always loved him far, far
down beneath what she would admit to herself, and this feeling of nine
has been a black shadow across our married life. But--I--I really
don't suppose I ought to be talking to you like this, ought I?

PRINCE SERGIUS. Please go on. My only object in coming was to
understand this situation completely, and I begin to see how the
shadow--as you charmingly express it--could have been----

FÉDYA (looking strangely ahead of him). Yes, no brightness could suck
up that shadow. And so I suppose I never was satisfied with what my
wife gave me, and I looked for every kind of distraction, sick at
heart because I did so. I see it more and more clearly since we've
been apart. Oh, but I sound as if I were defending myself. God knows I
don't want to do that. No, I was a shocking bad husband. I say was,
because now I don't consider myself her husband at all. She's
perfectly free. There, does that satisfy you?

PRINCE SERGIUS. Yes, but you know how strictly orthodox Victor and his
family are. Of course I don't agree with them--perhaps I have broader
views--(with a shrug) but I understand how they feel. They consider
that any union without a church marriage is--well, to put it mildly,
unthinkable.

FÉDYA. Yes, I know he's very stu--I mean strict. (With a slight
smile.) "Conservative" is the word, isn't it? But what in God's name
(crossing to C.) do they want, a divorce? I told them long ago I was
perfectly willing. But the business of hiring a street-woman and
taking her to a shady hotel and arranging to be caught by competent
witnesses--ugh--it's all so--so loathsome.

[He shudders--pauses; and sits on bed.

PRINCE SERGIUS. I know. I know. I assure you, I can sympathize with
such a repugnance, but how can one avoid it? You see, it's the only
way out. But, my dear boy, you mustn't think I don't sympathize with
you. It's a horrible situation for a sensitive man and I quite
understand how you must hate it.

FÉDYA. Thank you, Prince Sergius. I always knew you were kind and
just. Now tell me what to do. Put yourself in my place. I don't
pretend to be any better than I really am. I am a blackguard but there
are some things that even I can't do. (With a smile and helpless
gesture.) I can't tell lies.

[A pause.

PRINCE SERGIUS. I must confess that you bewilder me. You with your
gifts and charm and really au fond--a wonderful sense of what's right.
How could you have permitted yourself to plunge into such tawdry
distractions? How could you have forgotten so far what you owed to
yourself? Tell me, why did you let your life fall into this ruin?

FÉDYA (suppressing emotion). I've led this sort of life for ten years
and you're the first real person to show me sympathy. Of course, I've
been pitied by the degraded ones but never before by a sensible, kind
man like you. Thanks more than it's possible to say. (He seems to
forget his train of thought and suddenly to recall it.) Ah, yes, my
ruin. Well, first, drink, not because it tasted well, but because
everything I did disappointed me so, made me so ashamed of myself. I
feel ashamed now, while I talk to you. Whenever I drank, shame was
drowned in the first glass, and sadness. Then music, not opera or
Beethoven, but gypsy music; the passion of it poured energy into my
body, while those dark bewitching eyes looked into the bottom of my
soul. (He sighs.) And the more alluring it all was, the more shame I
felt afterwards.

[Pause.

PRINCE SERGIUS. But what about your career?

FÉDYA. My career? This seems to be it. Once I was a director of a
bank. There was something terribly lacking between what I felt and
what I could do. (Abruptly.) But enough, enough of myself. It makes me
rather nervous to think about myself.

[Rises.

PRINCE SERGIUS. What answer am I to take back?

FÉDYA (very nervous). Oh, tell them I'm quite at their disposal.
(Walking up and down) They want to marry, and there mustn't be
anything in their way (pause); is that it? (Stops walking very
suddenly. Repeats.) There mustn't be anything in their way--is that
it?

PRINCE SERGIUS (pause. FÉDYA sits on table L.). Yes. When do you--when
do you think--you'll--you'll have it ready? The evidence?

FÉDYA (turns and looks at the PRINCE, suppressing a slight, strained
smile). Will a fortnight do?

PRINCE SERGIUS (rising). Yes, I am sure it will. (Rises and crosses to
FÉDYA.) May I say that you give them your word?

FÉDYA (with some impatience). Yes. Yes. (PRINCE offers his hand.)
Good-bye, Prince Sergius. And again thanks.

[Exit PRINCE SERGIUS, R. I. FÉDYA sits down in an attitude of
deep thought.

Why not? Why not? And it's good not to be ashamed----

[Lights dim and out.

CURTAIN



SCENE V

Private room in a cheap restaurant. FÉDYA is shown in by a shabby
waiter.

WAITER. This way, sir. No one will disturb you here. Here's the
writing paper.

[Starts to exit.

FÉDYA (as waiter starts to exit). Bring me a bottle of champagne.

WAITER. Yes, sir.

[Exits R. C.

[FÉDYA sits at table L. C., and begins to write. IVÁN PETROVICH
appearing in the doorway R. C.

IVÁN PETROVICH. I'll come in, shall I?

FÉDYA (sitting L. of table L. C. Very serious). If you want to, but
I'm awfully busy, and--(seeing he has already entered) Oh, all right,
do come in.

IVÁN PETROVICH (C.). You're going to write an answer to their demand.
I'll help you. I'll tell you what to say Speak out. Say what you mean.
It's straight from the shoulder. That's my system. (Picks up box that
FÉDYA has placed on table--opens it and takes out a revolver.) Hallo!
What's this? Going to shoot yourself. Of course, why not? I
understand. They want to humiliate you, and you show them where the
courage is--put a bullet through your head and heap coals of fire on
theirs. I understand perfectly. (The waiter enters with champagne on
tray, pours a glass for FÉDYA, then exits. PETROVICH takes up the
glass of wine and starts to drink. FÉDYA looks up from his writing.) I
understand everything and everybody, because I'm a genius.

FÉDYA. So you are, but----

IVÁN PETROVICH (filling and lifting his glass). Here's to your
immortal journey. May it be swift and pleasant. Oh, I see it from your
point of view. So why should I stop you? Life and death are the same
to genius. I'm dead during life and I live after death. You kill
yourself in order to make a few people miss you, but I--but I--am
going to kill myself to make the whole world know what it lost. I
won't hesitate or think about it. I'll just take the revolver--one,
two--and all is over--um. But I am premature. My hour is not yet
struck. (He puts the revolver down.) But I shall write nothing. The
world will have to understand all by itself. (FÉDYA continues to
write.) The world, what is it but a mass of preposterous creatures,
who crawl around through life, understanding nothing--nothing at all
--do you hear me? (FÉDYA looks up, rather exasperated.) Oh, I'm not
talking to you. All this is between me and the cosmos. (Pours himself
out another drink.) After all, what does humanity most lack?
Appreciation for its geniuses. As it is, we're persecuted, tortured,
racked, through a lifetime of perpetual agony, into the asylum or the
grave. But no longer will I be their bauble. Humanity, hypocrite that
you are--to hell with you.

[Drinks wine.

FÉDYA (having finished his letter). Oh, go away, please.

IVÁN PETROVICH. Away? (With a gesture.) Away? Me? (With profound
resolve.) So be it. (He leans over the table, faces FÉDYA.) I shall
away. I'll not deter you from accomplishing what I also shall commit--
all in its proper moment, however. Only I should like to say this----

FÉDYA. Later. Later. But now, listen, old man, give this to the head
waiter. (Handing him some money.) You understand?

IVÁN PETROVICH. Yes, but for God's sake wait for me to come back.
(Moves away.) I've something rare to tell you, something you'll never
hear in the next world--at least not till I get there---- Look here,
shall I give him all this money?

FÉDYA. No, just what I owe him.

[Exit IVÁN PETROVICH, whistling. FÉDYA sighs with a sense of
relief, takes the revolver, cocks it, stands at mirror on wall
up R., and puts it close to his temple. Then shivers, and lets
his hand drop.

I can't do it. I can't do it.

[Pause. MASHA is heard singing. MASHA bursts into the room.

MASHA (breathless). I've been everywhere looking for you. To Popov's,
Afrémov's, then I guessed you'd be here. (Crosses to him. Sees
revolver, turns, faces him quickly, concealing it with her body,
stands very tense and taut, looking at him.) Oh, you fool! You hideous
fool! Did you think you'd----

FÉDYA (still completely unnerved). Awful! It's been awful! I tried----
(With a gesture of despair.) I couldn't----

[Crosses to table L. C.--leans against it.

MASHA (puts her hand to her face as if terribly hurt). As if I didn't
exist. (Crosses over to table L. C., puts down revolver.) As if I
weren't in your life at all. Oh, how godless you are! (Brokenly.) Tell
me, tell me, what about all my love for you?

FÉDYA (as if suddenly aware of a great fatigue). I wanted to set them
free. I promised to--and when the time came I couldn't.

MASHA. And what about me? What about me?

FÉDYA. I thought you'd be free, too. Surely my torturing you can't
make you happy.

MASHA. Oh, I can look out for myself. Maybe I'd rather be unhappy,
miserable, wretched with you every minute than even think of living
without you.

FÉDYA (up R.--half to himself). If I'd finished just now, you would
have cried bitterly perhaps, my Masha, but you would have lived past
it.

MASHA. Oh, damn you, don't be so sure I'd cry at all. Can't you even
be sorry for me?

[She tries to conceal her tears.

FÉDYA. Oh God, I only wanted to make everybody happier.

MASHA. Yourself happier, you mean.

FÉDYA (smiling). Would I have been happier to be dead now?

MASHA (sulkily). I suppose you would. (Suddenly in a tender voice,
crossing to him.) But, Fédya, do you know what you want? Tell me, what
do you want?

FÉDYA (R). I want so many things.

MASHA (impatiently and clinging to him). But what? What?

FÉDYA. First of all, I want to set them free. How can I lie? How can I
crawl through the muck and filth of a divorce? I can't. (Moves to end
of table and stands there facing front.) But I must set them free
somehow. They're such good people, my wife and Victor. I can't bear
having them suffer.

MASHA (R. of table L. C.--scornfully). Where's the good in her if she
left you?

FÉDYA. She didn't. I left her.

MASHA. She made you think she'd be happier without you. But go on----
(Impatiently.) Blame yourself, what else.

FÉDYA. There's you, Masha. Young, lovely, awfully dear to me. If I
stay alive, ah, where will you be?

MASHA. Don't bother about me. You can't hurt me.

FÉDYA (sighing). But the big reason, the biggest reason of all, is
myself. I'm just lost. Your father is right, my dear. I'm no good.

MASHA (crossing to him, at once tenderly and savagely). I won't
unfasten myself from you. I'll stick to you, no matter where you take
me, no matter what you do. You're alive, terribly alive, and I love
you. Fédya, drop all this horror.

FÉDYA. How can I?

MASHA (trying to project the very essence of her vitality into him).
Oh, you can, you can.

FÉDYA (slowly). When I look at you, I feel as though I could do
anything.

MASHA (proudly, fondly). My love, my love. You can do anything, get
anywhere you want to. (FÉDYA moves away impatiently up R. She sees
letter.) So you have been writing to them--to tell them you'll kill
yourself. You just told them you'd kill yourself, is that it? But you
didn't say anything about a revolver. Oh, Fédya, let me think, there
must be some way. Fédya--listen to me. Do you remember the day we all
went to the picnic to the White Lakes with Mama and Afrémov and the
young Cossack officer? And you buried the bottles of wine in the sand
to keep them cool while we went in bathing? Do you remember how you
took my hands and drew me out beyond the waves till the water was
quite silent and flashing almost up to our throats, and then suddenly
it seemed as if there were nothing under our feet? We tried to get
back. We couldn't and you shouted out, "Afrémov," and if he hadn't
been almost beside us and pulled us in--and how cross he was with you
for forgetting that you couldn't swim, and after, how wonderful it was
to stretch out safely on the sands in the sunlight. Oh, how nice every
one was to us that day and you kept on being so sorry for forgetting
you couldn't swim! And, Fédya, don't you see? Of course, she must know
you can't swim. Oh, it's all getting as clear as daylight. You will
send her this beautiful letter. Your clothes will be found on the
river bank--but instead of being in the river you will be far away
with me--Fédya, don't you see, don't you see? You will be dead to her,
but alive for me. (Embraces FÉDYA.)

[The lights down and out.

CURTAIN



SCENE VI

The PROTOSOVS' drawing-room.

KARÉNIN and LISA.

KARÉNIN (sitting chair R.). He's promised me
definitely, and I'm sure he'll keep to it.

LISA (sitting chair R. C.). I'm rather ashamed to confess it, Victor,
but since I found out about this--this gypsy, I feel completely free
of him. Of course, I am not in the least jealous, but knowing this
makes me see that I owe him nothing more. Am I clear to you, I wonder?

KARÉNIN (coming closer to her). Yes, dear, I think I'll always
understand you.

LISA (smiling). Don't interrupt me, but let me speak as I think. The
thing that tortured me most was I seemed to love both of you at once,
and that made me seem so indecent to myself.

KARÉNIN (incredulously amused). You indecent?

LISA (continuing). But since I've found out that there's another
woman, that he doesn't need me any more, I feel free, quite free of
him. And now I can say truthfully, I love you. Because everything is
clear in my soul. My only worry is the divorce, and all the waiting to
be gone through before we can---- Ah, that's torturing.

KARÉNIN. Dearest, everything will be settled soon. After all, he's
promised, and I've asked my secretary to go to him with the petition
and not to leave until he's signed it. Really, sometimes, if I didn't
know him as I do, I'd think he was trying on purpose to discomfort us.

LISA. No. No. It's, only the same weakness and honesty fighting
together in him. He doesn't want to lie. However, I'm sorry you sent
him money.

KARÉNIN. If I hadn't, it might have delayed things. Lisa. I know, but
money seems so ugly.

KARÉNIN (slightly ruffled). I hardly think it's necessary to be so
delicate with Fédya.

LISA. Perhaps, perhaps. (Smiling.) But don't you think we are becoming
very selfish?

KARÉNIN. Maybe. But it's all your fault, dear. After all, this
hopelessness and waiting, to think of being happy at last! I suppose
happiness does make us selfish.

LISA. Don't believe you're alone in your happiness or selfishness. I
am so filled with joy it makes me almost afraid. Misha's all right,
your mother loves me, and above all, you are here, close to me, loving
me as I love you.

KARÉNIN (bending over her and searching her eyes). You're sure you've
no regret?

LISA. From the day I found out about that gypsy woman, my mind
underwent a change that has set me free.

KARÉNIN. You're sure?

[Kissing her hands.

LISA (passionately). Darling, I've only one desire now, and that is to
have you forget the past and love as I do.

[Her little boy toddles in R., sees them and stops.

[To the child.

Come here, my sweetheart.

[He goes to her and she takes him on her knees.

KARÉNIN. What strange contradictory instincts and desires make up our
beings!

LISA. Why?

KARÉNIN (slowly). I don't know. When I came back from abroad, knew I'd
lost you, I was unhappy, terribly. Yet, it was enough for me to learn
that you at least remembered me. Afterward, when we became friends,
and you were kind to me, and into our friendship wavered a spark of
something more than friendship, ah, I was almost happy! Only one thing
tormented me: fear that such a feeling wronged Fédya. Afterwards, when
Fédya tortured you so, I saw I could help. Then a certain definite
hope sprang up in me. And later, when he became impossible and you
decided to leave him, and I showed you my heart for the first time,
and you didn't say no, but went away in tears--then I was happy through
and through. Then came the possibility of joining our lives. Mamma
loved you. You told me you loved me, that Fédya was gone out of your
heart, out of your life forever, and there was only, only me.... Ah,
Lisa, for what more could I ask! Yet the past tortured me. Awful
fancies would flush up into my happiness, turning it all into hatred
for your past.

LISA (interrupting reproachfully). Victor!

KARÉNIN. Forgive me, Lisa. I only tell you this because I don't want
to hide a single thought from you. I want you to know how bad I am,
and what a weakness I've got to fight down. But don't worry, I'll get
past it. It's all right, dear. (He bends over, kissing the child on
the head.) And I love him, too.

LISA. Dearest, I'm so happy. Everything has happened in my heart to
make it as you'd wish.

KARÉNIN. All?

LISA. All, beloved, or I never could say so.

[Enter the NURSE L. U.

NURSE. Your secretary has come back.

[LISA and KARÉNIN exchange glances.

LISA. Show him in here, nurse, and take Misha, will you?

NURSE. Come along, my pet. It's time for your rest.

[Exit NURSE with the little boy, R.

KARÉNIN (gets up, walks to the door). This will be Fédya's answer.

LISA (kissing Karénin). At last, at last we shall know when. (She
kisses him.)

[Enter VOZNESÉNSKY L. U.

KARÉNIN. Well?

SECRETARY. He's not there, sir.

KARÉNIN. Not there? He's not signed the petition, then?

SECRETARY. No. But here is a letter addressed to you and Elizaveta
Protosova.

[Takes letter from his pocket and gives it to KARÉNIN.

KARÉNIN (interrupting angrily). More excuses, more excuses. It's
perfectly outrageous. How without conscience he is. Really, he has
lost every claim to----

LISA. But read the letter, dear; see what he says.

[KARÉNIN opens the letter.

SECRETARY. Shall you need me, sir?

Karénin. No. That's all. Thank you.

[Exit SECRETARY. KARÉNIN reads the letter growing astonishment
and concern. LISA watches his face.

(Reading.)

"Lisa, Victor, I write you both without using terms of
endearment, since I can't feel them, nor can I conquer a sense
of bitterness and reproach, self-reproach principally, when I
think of you together in your love. I know, in spite of being
the husband, I was also the barrier, preventing you from coming
earlier to one another. C'est moi qui suis l'intrue. I stood in
your way, I worried you to death. Yet I can't help feeling
bitterly, coldly, toward you. In one way I love both of you,
especially Lisa Lizenska, but in reality I am more than cold
toward you. Yes, it's unjust, isn't it, but to change is
impossible."

LISA. What's all that for?

KARÉNIN (standing L. of table C., continuing).

"However, to the point. I am going to fulfill your wishes in
perhaps a little different way from what you desire. To lie, to
act a degrading comedy, to bribe women of the streets for
evidence--the ugliness of it all disgusts me. I am a bad man,
but this despicable thing I am utterly unable to do. My solution
is after all the simplest. You must marry to be happy. I am the
obstacle, consequently that obstacle must be removed."

LISA (R. of table). Victor!

KARÉNIN (reading). Must be removed? "By the time this letter reaches
you, I shall no longer exist. All I ask you is to be happy, and
whenever you think of me, think tender thoughts. God bless you both.
Good-bye. FÉDYA."

LISA. He's killed himself!

KARÉNIN (going hurriedly up stage L. and calls of). My secretary! Call
back my secretary!

LISA. Fédya! Fédya, darling!

KARÉNIN. Lisa!

LISA. It's not true! It's not true that I've stopped loving him! He's
the only man in all the world I love! And now I've killed him! I've
killed him as surely as if I'd murdered him with my own two hands!

KARÉNIN. Lisa, for God's sake!

LISA. Stop it! Don't come near me! Don't be angry with me, Victor. You
see I, too, cannot lie!

CURTAIN




ACT II

SCENE I

A dirty, ill-lighted underground dive; people are lying around
drinking, sleeping, playing cards and making love. Near the front a
small table at which FÉDYA sits; he is in rags and has fallen very
low. By his side is PETUSHKÓV, a delicate spiritual man, with long
yellow hair and beard. Both are rather drunk.

Candle light is the only lighting in this Scene.

PETUSHKÓV (R.C. of table C.). I know. I know. Well, that's real love.
So what happened then?

FÉDYA (L. C. of table C., pensively). You might perhaps expect a girl
of our own class, tenderly brought up, to be capable of sacrificing
for the man she loved, but this girl was a gypsy, reared in greed, yet
she gave me the purest sort of self-sacrificing love. She'd have done
anything for nothing. Such contrasts are amazing.

PETUSHKÓV. I see. In painting we call that value. Only to realize
bright red fully when there is green around it. But that's not the
point. What happened?

FÉDYA. Oh, we parted. I felt it wasn't right to go on taking, taking
where I couldn't give. So one night we were having dinner in a little
restaurant, I told her we'd have to say good-bye. My heart was so
wrung all the time I could hardly help crying.

PETUSHKÓV. And she?

FÉDYA. Oh, she was awfully unhappy, but she knew I was right. So we
kissed each other a long while, and she went back to her gypsy troupe
--(Slowly.) Maybe she was glad to go----

[A pause.

PETUSHKÓV. I wonder.

FÉDYA. Yes. The single good act of my soul was not ruining that girl.

PETUSHKÓV. Was it from pity?

FÉDYA. I sorry for her? Oh, never. Quite the contrary. I worshipped
her unclouded sincerity, the energy of her clear, strong will, and God
in Heaven, how she sang. And probably she is singing now, for some one
else. Yes, I always looked up at her from beneath, as you do at some
radiance in the sky. I loved her really. And now it's a tender
beautiful memory.

PETUSHKÓV. I understand. It was ideal, and you left it like that.

FÉDYA (ruminatingly). And I've been attracted often, you know. Once I
was in love with a grande dame, bestially in love, dog-like. Well,
she gave me a rendezvous, and I didn't, couldn't, keep it, because
suddenly I thought of her husband, and it made me feel sick. And you
know, it's queer, that now, when I look back, instead of being glad
that I was decent, I am as sorry as if I had sinned. But with Masha
it's so different; I'm filled with joy that I've never soiled the
brightness of my feeling for her. (He points his finger at the floor.)
I may go much further down.

PETUSHKÓV (interrupting). I know so well what you mean. But where is
she now?

FÉDYA. I don't know. I don't want to know. All that belongs to another
life, and I couldn't bear to mix that life and this life.

[A POLICE OFFICER enters from up R., kicks a man who is lying on
the floor--walks down stage, looks at FÉDYA and PETUSHKÓV, then
exits.

PETUSHKÓV. Your life's wonderful. I believe you're a real idealist.

FÉDYA. No. It's awfully simple. You know among our class--I mean the
class I was born in--there are only three courses: the first, to go
into the civil service or join the army and make money to squander
over your sensual appetites. And all that was appalling to me--perhaps
because I couldn't do it. The second thing is to live to clear out, to
destroy what is foul, to make way for the beautiful. But for that
you've got to be a hero, and I'm not a hero. And the third is to
forget it all--overwhelm it with music, drown it with wine. That's
what I did. And look (he spreads his arms out) where my singing led me
to.

[He drinks.

PETUSHKÓV. And what about family life? The sanctity of the home and
all that--I would have been awfully happy if I'd had a decent wife. As
it was, she ruined me.

FÉDYA. I beg your pardon. Did you say marriage? Oh, yes, of course.
Well, I've been married, too. Oh, my wife was quite an ideal woman. I
don't know why I should say was, by the way, because she's still
living. But there's something--I don't know; it's rather difficult to
explain--But you know how pouring champagne into a glass makes it
froth up into a million iridescent little bubbles? Well, there was
none of that in our married life. There was no fizz in it, no sparkle,
no taste, phew! The days were all one color--flat and stale and gray
as the devil. And that's why I wanted to get away and forget. You
can't forget unless you play. So trying to play I crawled in every
sort of muck there is. And you know, it's a funny thing, but we love
people for the good we do them, and we hate them for the harm. That's
why I hated Lisa. That's why she seemed to love me.

PETUSHKÓV. Why do you say seemed?

FÉDYA (wistfully). Oh, she couldn't creep into the center of my being
like Masha. But that's not what I mean. Before the baby was born, and
afterwards, when she was nursing him, I used to stay away for days and
days, and come back drunk, drunk, and love her less and less each
time, because I was wronging her so terribly. (Excitedly.) Yes. That's
it, I never realized it before. The reason why I loved Masha was
because I did her good, not harm. But I crucified my wife, and her
contortions filled me almost with hatred.

[FÉDYA drinks.

PETUSHKÓV. I think I understand. Now in my case----

[ARTIMIEV enters R. U., approaches with a cockade on his cap,
dyed mustache, and shabby, but carefully mended clothes.

ARTIMIEV (stands L. of table). Good appetite, gentlemen! (Bowing to
FÉDYA.) I see you've made the acquaintance of our great artist.

FÉDYA (coolly). Yes, I have.

ARTIMIEV (to PETUSHKÓV). Have you finished your portrait?

PETUSHKÓV. No, they didn't give me the commission, after all.

ARTIMIEV (sitting down on end of table). I'm not in your way, am I?

[FÉDYA and PETUSHKÓV don't answer.

PETUSHKÓV. This gentleman was telling me about his life.

ARTIMIEV. Oh, secrets? Then I won't disturb you. Pardon me for
interrupting. (To himself as he moves away.) Damn swine!

[He goes to the next table, sits down and in the dim candlelight
he can just be seen listening to the conversation.

FÉDYA. I don't like that man.

PETUSHKÓV. I think he's offended.

FÉDYA. Let him be. I can't stand him. If he'd stayed I shouldn't have
said a word. Now, it's different with you. You make me feel all
comfortable, you know. Well, what was I saying?

PETUSHKÓV. You were talking about your wife. How did you happen to
separate?

FÉDYA. Oh, that? (A pause.) It's a rather curious story. My wife's
married.

PETUSHKÓV. Oh, I see! You're divorced.

FÉDYA. No. (Smiling.) She's a widow.

PETUSHKÓV. A widow? What do you mean?

FÉDYA. I mean exactly what I say. She's a widow. I don't exist.

PETUSHKÓV (puzzled). What?

FÉDYA (smiling drunkenly). I'm dead. You're talking to a corpse.



 


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