A VOICE [_without_]. Varvara! Varvara! There is no water in my jug.
AST. There is one of the lodgers calling you.
VAR. It is the schoolmaster.
AST. Better not keep him waiting; he is an angry man.
VAR. I will go. Excuse me, please.
[_Exit Varvara. The clock ticks again. Asteryi pauses and meditates, then murmurs, "Oh, Hospodi!" as if in surprise at being so terribly bored. The concertina plays a few notes. A knock at the street door._]
AST. Who"s there? Come in, come in!
[_Enter Spiridon, a man with a cringing, crafty manner, in a sheepskin coat with snow on it. He stands by the door, facing the eikon, crossing himself with large gestures and bowing very low towards it._]
SPIR. [_looking round_]. Good-day, sir, good-day. [_Crossing himself again._] May the holy saints preserve all in this house.
AST. Ah! it"s you, Spiridon?
SPIR. Yes, sir. It is Spiridon the stonemason.
AST. What brings you here, Spiridon?
SPIR. Is Praskovya Petrovna not at home?
AST. No, she has gone to Vespers at St. Pantaleimon"s in the Marsh.
SPIR. The service is late to-night.
AST. Yes.... You are a hard man, Spiridon.
SPIR. Me, sir!
AST. And you lose money by your hardness. Praskovya Petrovna is a poor woman. For years she has been saving up money to build a stone house over the grave of her son in the Troitski Cemetery. You say that you will build it for 500 roubles, but you ask too much. By starving herself and pinching in every way she has saved up 400 roubles at last, and if you were a wise man you would accept it. For see, she is old; if she starve herself to save up another 100 roubles she will be dead before she has got it; her money will be sent back to her village or it will go into the pocket of some official, and you will not have the tomb-house to build at all.
SPIR. I have thought of all these things, Asteryi Ivanovitch, since you last spoke to me about it. And I said to myself: Asteryi Ivanovitch is perhaps right; it is not only Praskovya Petrovna who is old; I myself am old also, and may die before she has saved up money enough. But it is very hard to work and be underpaid. Good Valdai stone is expensive and hard to cut, and workmen nowadays ask for unholy wages. Still, I said to myself, a tomb-house for her son--it is a G.o.d-fearing work: and I have resolved to make the sacrifice. I have come to tell her I will consent to build it for 400 roubles.
AST. You have done rightly. You are an honest man, and G.o.d and St.
Nicholas will perhaps save your soul.
[_Enter Foma in cap and great-coat from the door to the lodgers"
rooms._]
FOMa. Good-evening, Asteryi Ivanovitch. Is Praskovya not at home?
AST. No, she is at Vespers.
FOMa. I come in and find my stove smoking. [_Taking of his coat._] I wished to ask her permission to sit here awhile to escape a headache.
Who is this? Ah, Spiridon. And by what miracle does Asteryi Ivanovitch hope that G.o.d and St. Nicholas will save your soul?
AST. He has consented to build Praskovya Petrovna the tomb-house over Sasha"s grave for 400 roubles instead of 500.
FOMa. That is good! She will be glad to hear the news, and shake hands on the bargain, and christen the earnest-money with vodka.
SPIR. The earnest-money? Ah no, sir, there can be no earnest-money. The whole sum of money must be paid at once. I am a poor man. I must pay the quarryman for the stone; my workmen cannot live on air.
AST. If she has the money she will pay you.
FOMa. Well, if there is to be no earnest-money, at least we will have the vodka. Vodka is always good.
AST. [_to Spiridon_]. Sit down and wait till she returns. She will not be long.
SPIR. No, no; I will come again in an hour. I have to go to my brother-in-law two streets away. [_Crossing himself before the eikons._]
I will come again as I return.
[_The tap of drums in the street._]
AST. Why are they beating drums?
FOMa. It is a patrol pa.s.sing.
SPIR. The soldiers are very watchful to-day.
FOMa. It is because the Empress comes this way to-morrow on her journey to Smolensk.
SPIR. They have arrested many suspicious people. All those who have no pa.s.sports are being sent away to Siberia.
FOMa. Ah! poor creatures! [_A patrol of soldiers pa.s.ses the window quietly_].
SPIR. Why should you say "poor creatures"? If they were honest men they would not be without pa.s.sports. Good-evening.
FOMa. Wait till they have gone.
SPIR. We honest men have nothing to fear from them. Good-evening. I will return again in an hour. [_Exit Spiridon._]
FOMa. How glad Praskovya will be.
AST. Say nothing of this to any one. We will keep it as a surprise.
[_Enter Varvara._]
FOMa. Varvara, my pretty child, fetch the bottle of vodka from my room.
VAR. Vodka in here? Praskovya Petrovna will be angry.
FOMa. No, she will not be angry; she will be glad. [_Exit Varvara._] Do you play patience here every night?
AST. Every night for more than twenty years.