Plays by Aleksandr Nikolaevich Ostrovsky Part 17

GuSLIN. What a crowd there was at the fair! Your people were there. Why weren't you?

MiTYA. Because I felt so awfully miserable.

GuSLIN. What's the matter? What are you unhappy about?

MiTYA. How can I help being unhappy? Thoughts like these keep coming into my head: what sort of man am I in the world? My mother is old and poor now, and I must keep her--and how? My salary is small; I get nothing but abuse and insults from Gordey Karpych; he keeps reproaching me with my poverty, as if I were to blame--and he doesn't increase my salary. I'd look for another place, but where can one find one without friends? And, yes, I will confess to you that I won't go to another place.

GOSLIN. Why won't you go? There at the Razlyulyayevs' it's very nice--the people are rich and kind.

MiTYA. No, Yasha, that doesn't suit me! I'll bear anything from Gordey Karpych, I'll stand poverty, but I won't go away. That's my destiny!

GuSLIN. Why so?

MiTYA. [_Rises_] Well, I have a reason for this. It is, Yasha, because I have another sorrow--but n.o.body knows about it. I haven't spoken to any one about my sorrow.

GuSLIN. Tell me about it.

MiTYA. [_Waving his hand_] What for?

GuSLIN. Yes, tell me; don't put on airs!

MiTYA. Whether I tell you or not, you can't help me!

GuSLIN. How do you know?

MiTYA. [_Walking toward_ GuSLIN] n.o.body can help me--I am a lost man! I've fallen wildly in love with Lyubov Gordeyevna.

GuSLIN. What's the matter with you, Mitya? Whatever do you mean?

MiTYA. Well, anyhow, it's a fact.

GuSLIN. You'd better put it out of your head, Mitya. Nothing can ever come of that, so there's no use thinking about it.

MiTYA. Though I know all this, one cannot control one's heart. "To love is most easy, one cannot forget." [_He speaks with violent gestures_] "I love the beautiful girl more than family, more than race; but evil people forbid me, and they bid me cease."

GuSLIN. Yes, indeed; but you must stop it! Now Anna Ivanovna is my equal; she has no money, and I haven't a kopek--and even so uncle forbids me to marry. It's no use for you to think of doing so. You'll get it into your head and then it'll be still harder for you.

MiTYA. [_Declaiming_] "What of all things is most cruel? The most cruel thing is love." [_Walking about the room_.] Yasha, have you read Koltsov?

GuSLIN. Yes, why?

MiTYA. How he describes all these feelings!

GuSLIN. He does describe them exactly.

MiTYA. Exactly, to perfection. [_Walking about the room_] Yasha!

GuSLIN. What?

MiTYA. I myself have composed a song.

GuSLIN. You?

MiTYA. Yes.

GuSLIN. Let's make up a tune for it, and we'll sing it.

MiTYA. Good! Here, take this [_gives him a paper_] and I'll write a little--I have some work: most likely Gordey Karpych will be asking me about it. [_Sits and writes_.

GuSLIN _takes the guitar and begins to pick out a tune_. RAZLYULYaYEV _comes in with an accordion_.

SCENE VI

_The same and_ RAZLYULYaYEV

RAZLYULYaYEV. h.e.l.lo, boys! [_Plays on the accordion and begins to dance_.

GuSLIN. What a fool! What did you buy that accordion for?

RAZLYULYaYEV. Why, I bought it to play on, of course--this way. [_Plays_.

GuSLIN. Well, that's fine music, I must say! Stop, I tell you!

RAZLYULYaYEV. What! Do you think I'll stop? I'll stop when I want to.--What airs! Haven't I got any money? [_Slapping his pocket_] It c.h.i.n.ks! If we go on a spree--then it's some spree!

"One mountain is high, And another is low; One darling is far, And another is near."

Mitya! [_Strikes_ MiTYA _on the shoulder_] Mitya, why are you sitting still?

MiTYA. I have some work to do. [_Continues to work_.

RAZLYULYaYEV. Mitya! Say, Mitya, I'm on a spree, my boy! Really, I am. Oh, come on! [_Sings, "One mountain is high," etc_.] Mitya! Say, Mitya, I'm going on a spree for the whole holiday season--then I'll set to work, upon my word I will! Haven't I got any money? There it is! And I'm not drunk.--Oh, no, such a spree!--so jolly!

MiTYA. Well, go on a spree as much as you like.

RAZLYULYaYEV. And after the holidays I shall marry!--Upon my word I shall marry! I'll get a rich girl.

GuSLIN. Now, then, listen; how does this sound?

RAZLYULYaYEV. Sing it, sing it! I'll listen.

GuSLIN. [_Sings_]