Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays

by Unknown

Pras. How brightly the eikon lamp burns before the portrait of my boy.

Var. It does indeed.

Pras. It is the new fire from the Candlemas taper.

Fomá. It is the new oil that makes it burn brightly.

Pras. [crossing herself]. Nonsense! it is the new fire.

Fomá. Did ever one hear such stuff? She put out the lamp at Candlemas, and lighted it anew from the taper which she brought home from the midnight service, from the new fire struck by the priest with flint and steel; and now she thinks that is the reason why it burns so brightly.

Var. Is that not so then, Astéryi Ivanovitch?

Ast. Oh, Fomá Ilyitch is a chemist; he can tell you what fire is made of.

Fomá. So you have been all the way to St. Pantaléimon's in the Marsh? Oh, piety, thy name is Praskóvya Petróvna! Not a person can hold the most miserably little service in the remotest corner of the town but you smell it out and go to it.

Var. It is a Christian deed, Fomá Ilyitch.