Part 15 (1/2)

Curtain.

ACT V

SCENE 1

A dirty room in a low-cla.s.s restaurant. A table, at which people sit drinking tea and vodka. In the foreground a small table, at which sits Fedya, tattered, and much come down in the world. With him is Petushkov, a gentle, mild man with long hair, of clerical appearance. Both are slightly drunk.

PETUSHKoV. I understand, I understand. That is true love! Yes? Go on.

FeDYA. Well, you know, if a woman of our cla.s.s showed such feeling and sacrificed everything for the man she loved.... But she was a gipsy, brought up to money-hunting, and yet she had this self-sacrificing love!

Gave everything, and wanted nothing herself! The contrast was so wonderful!

PETUSHKoV. Yes, in art we call it ”value.” You can only get quite bright red by putting green round it. But that's not to the point. I understand, quite understand.

FeDYA. Yes, and I believe the one good action of my life is that I never took advantage of her love. And do you know why?

PETUSHKoV. Pity.

FeDYA. Oh no! I never felt pity for her. What I felt for her was always rapturous admiration--and when she sang! Ah, how she sang--and perhaps still sings! I always regarded her as far above me. I did not ruin her, simply because I loved her; loved her truly. And now she's a good, happy memory! [Drinks].

PETUSHKoV. Yes, I understand, I understand. It's ideal.

FeDYA. I'll tell you something. I have had my pa.s.sions, and once I was in love with a lady--very handsome--and I loved her nastily, like a dog.

She gave me a _rendezvous_. And I did not go, because I thought it was treating the husband shabbily. And it is strange that, even now, when I remember it I want to feel pleased and to approve of myself for having acted honourably, but I always repent as if I had committed a sin! But in the case of Masha, on the contrary, I am always pleased--pleased that I did not pollute that feeling of mine.... I may fall lower still, sell all I have on me, be covered with lice and sores--but this jewel ... no, not jewel, but ray of suns.h.i.+ne, is still with me and in me.

PETUSHKoV. I understand, I understand! And where is she now?

FeDYA. I don't know! And I'd rather not know. All _that_ belonged to a different life; and I don't want to mix it up with this....

A woman is heard screaming at a table behind. The manager and a policeman come in and take her out. Fedya and Petushkov listen, and look on in silence. When all is quiet again,

PETUSHKoV. Yes, your life is astonis.h.i.+ng.

FeDYA. No, it's most simple! You know, in the society in which I was born there are only three careers open to a man--only three. The first is to enter the civil or military service, to earn money and increase the abominations amid which we live. That was repulsive to me. Perhaps I had not the capacity for it; but above all it repelled me. Then the second is to destroy those abominations. To do that you must be a hero; and I am not a hero. And the third is to forget it all by going on the spree, drinking and singing. That is what I did. And this is what my singing has brought me to! [Drinks].

PETUSHKoV. And what about family life? I should be happy if I had a wife. My wife ruined me.

FeDYA. Family life? Yes, my wife was an ideal woman. She is still living. But how shall I tell you? There was no yeast in it--you know, the yeast that makes the beer froth! Well, there was nothing of that in our life: it was flat, and I wanted something to help me to forget--and one can't forget when there's no sparkle in life. Then I began to do all sorts of nasty things. And you know, we love people for the good we do them, and dislike them for the harm we do them; and I did her much harm.

She seemed to love me ...

PETUSHKoV. Why do you say ”seemed”?

FeDYA. I say it because there was never anything about her that made her creep into my soul as Masha did. But that's not what I meant to say.

When she was pregnant, or nursing her baby, I used to vanish, and come home drunk; and of course, just because of that, I loved her less and less. Yes, yes! [in ecstasy] I have it! The reason I love Masha is that I did her good and not harm. That's why I love her. The other one I tormented, and therefore I don't like her.... No, after all, I simply don't like her! Was I jealous? Yes, but that too is past....

Enter Artemyev, with a c.o.c.kade on his cap, dyed moustaches, and old renovated clothes.