SATINE. And why can’t a crook at times speak the truth—since honest people at times speak like crooks? Yes—I’ve forgotten a lot—but I still know a thing or two! The old man? Oh—he’s wise! He affected me as acid affects a dirty old silver coin! Let’s drink to his health! Fill the glasses . . . [Nastya fills a glass with beer and hands it to Satine, who laughs] The old man lives within himself . . . he looks upon all the world from his own angle. Once I asked him: “Grand-dad, why do people live?” [Tries to imitate Luka’s voice and gestures] And he replied: “Why, my dear fellow, people live in the hope of something better! For example—let’s say there are carpenters in this world, and all sorts of trash . . . people . . . and they give birth to a carpenter the like of which has never been seen upon the face of the earth . . . he’s way above everybody else, and has no equal among carpenters! The brilliancy of his personality was reflected on all his trade, on all the other carpenters, so that they advanced twenty years in one day! This applies to all other trades—blacksmiths and shoemakers and other workmen—and all the peasants—and even the aristocrats live in the hopes of a higher life! Each individual thinks that he’s living for his own Self, but in reality he lives in the hope of something better. A hundred years—sometimes longer—do we expect, live for the finer, higher life . . .” [Nastya stares intently into Satine’s face. Kleshtch stops working and listens. The Baron bows his head very low, drumming softly on the table with his fingers. The Actor, peering down from the stove, tries to climb noiselessly into the bunk] “Every one, brothers, every one lives in the hope of something better. That’s why we must respect each and every human being! How do we know who he is, why he was born, and what he is capable of accomplishing? Perhaps his coming into the world will prove to be our good fortune . . . Especially must we respect little children! Children—need freedom! Don’t interfere with their lives! Respect children!” [Pause]
THE BARON [thoughtfully] Hm—yes—something better?—That reminds me of my family . . . an old family dating back to the time of Catherine . . . all noblemen, soldiers, originally French . . . they served their country and gradually rose higher and higher. In the days of Nicholas the First my grandfather, Gustave DeBille, held a high post—riches—hundreds of serfs . . . horses—cooks—
NASTYA. You liar! It isn’t true!
THE BARON [jumping up] What? Well—go on—
NASTYA. It isn’t true.
THE BARON [screams] A house in Moscow! A house in Petersburg! Carriages! Carriages with coats of arms!
[Kleshtch takes his concertina and goes to one side, watching the scene with interest.]
NASTYA. You lie!
THE BARON. Shut up!—I say—dozens of footmen . . .