PETER. Of course one must not forget G.o.d.
AKiM. It turns out worse! But when it"s the right way--G.o.d"s way--it what d"you call it, it gives one joy; seems pleasant, I mean. So I reckon, you see, get him, the lad, I mean, get him to marry her, to keep him from sin, I mean, and let him what d"you call it at home, as it"s lawful, I mean, while I go and get the job in town. The work is of the right sort--it"s payin", I mean. And in G.o.d"s sight it"s what d"you call it--it"s best, I mean. Ain"t she an orphan? Here, for example, a year ago some fellows went and took timber from the steward,--thought they"d do the steward, you know. Yes, they did the steward, but they couldn"t what d"you call it--do G.o.d, I mean. Well, and so....
[Enter NIKiTA and NAN.
NIKiTA. You called me?
[Sits down and takes out his tobacco-pouch.
PETER (in a low, reproachful voice). What are you thinking about--have you no manners? Your father is going to speak to you, and you sit down and fool about with tobacco. Come, get up!
[NIKiTA rises, leans carelessly with his elbow on the table, and smiles.
AKiM. It seems there"s a complaint, you know, about you, Nikita--a complaint, I mean, a complaint.
NIKiTA. Who"s been complaining?
AKiM. Complaining? It"s a maid, an orphan maid, complaining, I mean.
It"s her, you know--a complaint against you, from Marina, I mean.
NIKiTA (laughs). Well, that"s a good one. What"s the complaint? And who"s told you--she herself?
AKiM. It"s I am asking you, and you must now, what d"you call it, give me an answer. Have you got mixed up with the la.s.s, I mean--mixed up, you know?
NIKiTA. I don"t know what you mean. What"s up?
AKiM. Foolin", I mean, what d"you call it? foolin". Have you been foolin" with her, I mean?
NIKiTA. Never mind what"s been! Of course one does have some fun with a cook now and then to while away the time. One plays the concertina and gets her to dance. What of that?
PETER. Don"t shuffle, Nikita, but answer your father straight out.
AKiM (solemnly). You can hide it from men but not from G.o.d, Nikita.
You, what d"you call it--think, I mean, and don"t tell lies. She"s an orphan; so, you see, any one is free to insult her. An orphan, you see. So you should say what"s rightest.
NIKiTA. But what if I have nothing to say? I have told you everything --because there isn"t anything to tell, that"s flat! (Getting excited.) She can go and say anything about me, same as if she was speaking of one as is dead. Why don"t she say anything about Fedka Mikishin?
Besides, how"s this, that one mayn"t even have a bit of fun nowadays?
And as for her, well, she"s free to say anything she likes.
AKiM. Ah, Nikita, mind! A lie will out. Did anything happen?
NIKiTA (aside). How he sticks to it; it"s too bad. (To Akim.) I tell you, I know nothing more. There"s been nothing between us. (Angrily.) By G.o.d! and may I never leave this spot (crosses himself) if I know anything about it. (Silence. Then still more excitedly.) Why! have you been thinking of getting me to marry her? What do you mean by it?-- it"s a confounded shame. Besides, nowadays you"ve got no such rights as to force a fellow to marry. That"s plain enough. Besides, haven"t I sworn I know nothing about it?
MATRYoNA (to her husband). There now, that"s just like your silly pate, to believe all they tell you. He"s gone and put the lad to shame all for nothing. The best thing is to let him live as he is living, with his master. His master will help us in our present need, and give us ten roubles, and when the time comes....
PETER. Well, Daddy Akim, how"s it to be?
AKiM (looks at his son, clicking his tongue disapprovingly). Mind, Nikita, the tears of one that"s been wronged never, what d"you call it--never fall beside the mark but always on, what"s name--the head of the man as did the wrong. So mind, don"t what d"you call it.
NIKiTA (sits down). What"s there to mind? mind yourself.
NAN (aside). I must run and tell mother.
[Exit.
MATRYoNA (to Peter). That"s always the way with this old mumbler of mine, Peter Ignat.i.tch. Once he"s got anything wedged in his pate there"s no knocking it out. We"ve gone and troubled you all for nothing. The lad can go on living as he has been. Keep him; he"s your servant.
PETER. Well, Daddy Akim, what do you say?
AKiM. Why, the lad"s his own master, if only he what d"you call it....
I only wish that, what d"you call it, I mean.
MATRYoNA. You don"t know yourself what you"re jawing about. The lad himself has no wish to leave. Besides, what do we want with him at home? We can manage without him.
PETER. Only one thing, Daddy Akim--if you are thinking of taking him back in summer, I don"t want him here for the winter. If he is to stay at all, it must be for the whole year.
MATRYoNA. And it"s for a year he"ll bind himself. If we want help when the press of work comes, we can hire help, and the lad shall remain with you. Only give us ten roubles now....
PETER. Well then, is it to be for another year?
AKiM (sighing). Yes, it seems, it what d"you call it ... if it"s so, I mean, it seems that it must be what d"you call it.
MATRYoNA. For a year, counting from St. Dimitry"s day. We know you"ll pay him fair wages. But give us ten roubles now. Help us out of our difficulties. (Gets up and bows to Peter.)
[Enter NAN and ANiSYA. The latter sits down at one side.
PETER. Well, if that"s settled we might step across to the inn and have a drink. Come, Daddy Akim, what do you say to a gla.s.s of vodka?
AKiM. No, I never drink that sort of thing.
PETER. Well, you"ll have some tea?
AKiM. Ah, tea! yes, I do sin that way. Yes, tea"s the thing.
PETER. And the women will also have some tea. Come. And you, Nikita, go and drive the sheep in and clear away the straw.
NIKiTA. All right. (Exeunt all but NIKiTA. NIKiTA lights a cigarette.
It grows darker.) Just see how they bother one. Want a fellow to tell "em how he larks about with the wenches! It would take long to tell "em all those stories--"Marry her," he says. Marry them all! One would have a good lot of wives! And what need have I to marry? Am as good as married now! There"s many a chap as envies me. Yet how strange it felt when I crossed myself before the icon. It was just as if some one shoved me. The whole web fell to pieces at once. They say it"s frightening to swear what"s not true. That"s all humbug. It"s all talk, that is. It"s simple enough.
AKOULiNA (enters with a rope, which she puts down. She takes off her outdoor things and goes into closet). You might at least have got a light.
NIKiTA. What, to look at you? I can see you well enough without.
AKOULiNA. Oh, bother you!
[NAN enters and whispers to NIKiTA.
NAN. Nikita, there"s a person wants you. There is!