THE THIRD ACT
_A festively decorated room with three windows to the street. One window is open, but the curtain is drawn. An open door, painted dark, leads into the room seen in the first act.
It is night and dark. Through the windows can be heard the continuous tramp of the pilgrims on their way to the monastery for the next day's celebration. Some are barefoot; some wear boots or bast shoes. Their steps are quick and eager, or slow and weary. They walk singly or in groups of two or three, the majority in silence, though now and then suppressed, indistinct talking may be heard. Starting from somewhere far off to the left, the sound of the footsteps and the talking, muffled at first, approaches and grows louder, until at times it seems to fill the whole room. Then it dies away in the distance again. The impression is that of some tremendous movement, elemental and irrepressible.
At the table, lighted only by a flickering stump of a tallow candle, sit Speransky and Tony. The latter is very drunk. Cucumbers, herring, and bottles of whiskey are on the table. The rest of the room is entirely dark. Occasionally the wind blows the white curtain at the window and sets the candle flame tossing.
Tony and Speransky talk in whispers. A prolonged pause follows the rise of the curtain._
TONY (bending over to Speransky, mysteriously)
So you say it is possible we do not exist, eh?
SPERANSKY (in the same manner)
As I have already stated, it is doubtful, extremely doubtful. There is very good reason to suppose that we really do not exist—that we don't exist at all.
TONY
And you are not, and I am not.
SPERANSKY
And you are not, and I am not. No one is. (Pause)
TONY (looking around, mysteriously)
Where are we then?
SPERANSKY
We?
TONY
Yes, we.
SPERANSKY
That's something no one can tell. No one knows, Anthony.
TONY
No one?
SPERANSKY
No one.
TONY (glancing around)
Doesn't Savva know?
SPERANSKY
No, Savva doesn't know either.
TONY
Savva knows everything.
SPERANSKY
But even he doesn't know that.
TONY (threatening with his finger)
Keep still, keep still! (Both look around and are silent)
TONY (mysteriously)
Where are they going, eh?
SPERANSKY
To the elevation of the ikon. To-morrow is a feast-day—the day of raising the ikon.
TONY
No, I mean where are they really going—really—don't you understand?
SPERANSKY
I do. It isn't known. No one knows, Anthony.
TONY
Hush! (Makes a funny grimace, closes his mouth with his hand and leans on it)
SPERANSKY (in a whisper)
What's the matter?
TONY
Keep quiet, keep quiet. Listen. (Both are listening)
TONY (in whisper)
Those are faces.
SPERANSKY
Yes?
TONY
It's faces that are going. A lot of faces—can't you see them?
SPERANSKY (staring)
No, I can't.
TONY
But I can. There they are, laughing. Why aren't you laughing, eh?
SPERANSKY
I feel very despondent.
TONY
Laugh. You must laugh. Everybody is laughing. Hush, hush! (Pause) Listen, nobody exists, nobody—do you understand? There is no God, there is no man, there are no animals. Here is the table—it doesn't exist. Here is the candle—it doesn't exist. The only things that exist are faces—you understand? Keep quiet, keep quiet. I am very much afraid.
SPERANSKY
What are you afraid of?
TONY (bending near to Speransky)
That I'll die of laughter.
SPERANSKY
Really?
TONY (shaking his head affirmatively)
Yes, that I'll die of laughter. I am afraid that some day I'll catch sight of a face which will send me off roaring with laughter; and I'll roar and roar until I die. Keep quiet. I know.
SPERANSKY
You never laugh
TONY
I am always laughing, but you don't see it. It's nothing. The only thing I am afraid is that I'll die. I'll come across a face one of these days which will start me off in a fit of laughter, and I'll laugh and laugh and laugh and won't be able to stop. Yes, it's coming, it's coming. (Wipes his chest and neck)
SPERANSKY
The dead know everything.
TONY (mysteriously, with awe)
I am afraid of Savva's face. It's a very funny face. One could die laughing over it. The point is that you can't stop laughing—that's the principal thing. You laugh and laugh and laugh. Is there nobody here?
SPERANSKY
Apparently no.
TONY
Keep quiet, keep quiet, I know. Keep quiet. (Pause; the tramp of the pilgrim's footsteps grows louder, as if they were walking in the very room itself) Are they going?
SPERANSKY
Yes, they are going. (Pause)
TONY
I like you. Sing me that song of yours. I'll listen.
SPERANSKY
With your permission, Anthony. (Sings in an undertone, almost in a whisper, a dismal, long-drawn-out tune somewhat resembling a litany)
Life's a sham, 'tis false, untrue,
Death alone is true, aye, true.
(With increasing caution and pedantry, shaking his finger as if imparting a secret)
All things tumble, vanish, break,
Death is sure to overtake
Outcast, tramp, and tiniest fly
Unperceived by naked eye.
TONY
What?
SPERANSKY
Unperceived by naked eye,
Wheedling, coaxing, courting, wooing,
Death weds all to their undoing
And the myth of life is ended.
That's all, Anthony.
TONY
Keep still, keep still. You have sung your song—now keep quiet.
[Lipa enters, opens the window, removes the flowers, and looks out into the street. Then she lights the lamp.
TONY
Who is it? Is that you, Lipa? Lipa, eh, Lipa, where are they going?
LIPA
They are coming here for the feast-day. You had better go to bed,
Tony, or father will see you and scold you.
SPERANSKY
Big crowds, aren't they?
LIPA
Yes. But it's so dark, you can't see. Why are you so pale, Mr.
Speransky? It is positively painful to look at you.
SPERANSKY
That's how I feel, Miss Lipa.
[A cautious knock is heard at the window.
LIPA (opening the window)
Who is there?
TONY (to Speransky)
Keep quiet, keep quiet.
KING FRIAR (thrusting his smiling face through the window) Is Savva
Yegorovich in? I wanted to ask him to come with me to the woods.
LIPA
No. Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Vassya? To-morrow is a big feast-day in your monastery and you—
YOUNG FRIAR (smiling)
There are plenty of people in the monastery without me. Please tell Mr. Savva that I have gone to the ravine to catch fireflies. Ask him to call out: "Ho, ho!"
LIPA
What do you want fireflies for?
YOUNG FRIAR
Why, to scare the monks with. I'll put two fireflies next to each other like eyes, and they'll think it's, the devil. Tell him, please, to call: "Ho, ho, ho!" (He disappears in the darkness)
LIPA (shouting after him)
He can't come to-day. (To Speransky) Gone already—ran off.
SPERANSKY
They buried three in the cemetery to-day, Miss Olympiada.
LIPA
Have you seen Savva?
SPERANSKY
No, I am sorry to say I haven't. I say, they buried three people to-day. One old man—perhaps you knew him—Peter Khvorostov?
LIPA
Yes, I knew him. So he's dead?
SPERANSKY
Yes, and two children. The women wept a great deal.
LIPA
What did they die of?
SPERANSKY
I am sorry, but I don't know. It didn't interest me. Some children's disease, I suppose. When children die, Miss Olympiada, they turn all blue and look as if they wanted to cry. The faces of grown people are tranquil, but children's faces are not. Why is that so?
LIPA
I don't know—I've never noticed it.
SPERANSKY
It's a very interesting phenomenon.
LIPA
There's father now. I told you to go to bed. Now I've got to listen to your brawling. I'll get out.
(Exit. Enter Yegor Tropinin)
YEGOR
Who lighted the lamp?
SPERANSKY
Good evening, Mr. Tropinin.
YEGOR
Good evening. Who lighted the lamp?
SPERANSKY
Miss Olympiada.
YEGOR (blowing it out)
Learned it from Savva. (To Tony) And you, what's the matter with you? How long, how long, for Christ's sake? How long am I to stand all this from you, you good-for-nothing loafers? Eh? Where did you get the whiskey, eh?
TONY
At the bar.
YEGOR
It wasn't put there for you, was it?
TONY
You have a very funny face, father.
YEGOR
Give me the whiskey.
TONY
I won't.
YEGOR
Give here!
TONY
I won't.
YEGOR (slaps his face)
Give it to me, I say.
TONY (falls on the sofa, still holding on to the bottle)
I won't.
YEGOR (sitting down, calmly)
All right, swill until you bust, devil. What was I saying? That fool put it out of my head. Oh yes, the pilgrims are going, it strong this time. It's been a bad year for the crops. That's another reason, I suppose. There's no grub, they have nothing to eat, and so they'll pray. If God listened to every fool's prayer, we'd have a fine time of it. If he listened to every fool, what chance would the wise man have? A fool remains a fool. That's why he is called a fool.
SPERANSKY
That's correct.
YEGOR
I should say it is correct. Father Parfeny is a smart man. He flim-flams them all right. He put up a new coffin—did you hear that? The old one has all been eaten away by the pilgrims, so he put a new one into its place. It was old, so he put a new one instead. They'll eat that one away. No matter what you give them—Tony, are you drinking again?
TONY
I am.
YEGOR
I am! I am! I'll hand you out another one in a moment and we'll see what you say then.
[Enter Savva, looking very gay and lively. He stoops less than usual, talks rapidly, and looks sharp and straight, but his gaze does not rest long on the same person or object.