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Title: The waltz of the dogs
A play in four acts
Author: Leonid Andreyev
Translator: Herman Bernstein
Release date: June 21, 2026 [eBook #78902]
Language: English
Original publication: New York: The Macmillan Company, 1922
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78902
Credits: Tim Lindell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WALTZ OF THE DOGS ***
THE WALTZ OF THE DOGS
_A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS_
BY LEONID ANDREYEV
ANATHEMA
THE LIFE OF MAN
THE SORROWS OF BELGIUM
THE
WALTZ OF THE DOGS
_A Play in Four Acts_
BY
LEONID ANDREYEV
AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION FROM THE
ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT BY
HERMAN BERNSTEIN
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1922
_All rights reserved_
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
COPYRIGHT, 1922,
BY HERMAN BERNSTEIN.
Set up and printed. Published September, 1922.
Press of
J. J. Little & Ives Company
New York, U. S. A.
CHARACTERS
HENRY TILE
CARL TILE, _His Brother_
ELIZABETH
ALEXANDROV, _nicknamed “Feklusha”_
“HAPPY JENNIE”
ANDREY TIZENHAUSEN
IVAN YERMOLAYEV
IVAN, _man servant_
TWO HOUSE PAINTERS
THE WALTZ OF THE DOGS
ACT I
SCENE: _Two house painters are singing a song behind the wall.
They sing it softly, without words, monotonously. CARL TILE, a
student, is sitting at his brother HENRY TILE’S writing table.
The apartment is new, not yet completely finished or furnished;
nor is the room in which CARL TILE is sitting completely
finished. It is intended as a drawing room, and the new
furniture is arranged in strict order: armchairs, plain chairs,
a small round table near a couch, an oval mirror; but there
are no rugs, no draperies, and no paintings. In the middle of
the room a table is set for dinner. Everything in the room is
angular, cold, lifeless—life had not yet begun there. The new
little piano is very glossy; music is arranged on the music
stand. CARL TILE is busying himself with a skeleton key._
CARL
The house painters are singing.
_He whistles softly to the tune of the quiet song without
words. Then he strikes the table with his palm softly
and says_:
Yes.
_He strikes the table twice again after measured pauses,
repeating_:
Yes—Yes.
_Pause._
I have just opened my brother Henry’s table with a skeleton key. I was
looking for money. But I found only twenty-five rubles—only twenty-five
rubles. That’s too little.
_Again he strikes the table after measured pauses._
Yes—Yes—Yes. I wonder whether my brother Henry—Henry Tile—knows that I
am a cardsharp, a gambler, a thief, that I am looking for a woman to
support me! No, he does not know. My brother Henry is not wise. No. No.
Now he’ll think the house painters stole the twenty-five rubles, he may
not even notice that they are missing. “Brother Carl!” he says, “Brother
Carl.” Yes.—But could I?—If Henry had much money, oh, a lot of money, of
course—and if it could be done unnoticed, oh, of course, unnoticed—could
I kill Henry, my brother Henry Tile?
_He rises and walks up and down the room twice. He is tall,
straight, in a long student’s coat, hanging clumsily and
loosely upon him. His hair is brushed back smoothly, and is
glossy. The dark blue collar of his coat is unusually high.
Carl’s face is dry, somewhat stern, with regular features, and
very decorous. He sits down at the table again and taps it
three times, saying_:
Yes—Yes—Yes. The house painters are singing. A sad tune. A quiet tune.
I am a scamp, yet I am fond of sad songs, while my brother Henry has no
taste at all. And his new apartment is dreadful. There is something here
that inspires crime. The house painters are singing.
_He whistles softly to the accompaniment of the tune. He hears
the sound of the door opening in the corridor, voices; and
rising slowly, he walks up and down the room with measured
steps as before. Enter HENRY TILE, and his associates,
DMITRY YERMOLAYEV, a stumpy man of Russian type, and ANDREY
TIZENHAUSEN. Behind them walks ALEXANDROV, smiling confusedly
and happily. He is nicknamed “Feklusha”—he had been a
schoolmate of HENRY TILE in the first classes of the gymnasium._
HENRY
Hello, Carl. How are you?
CARL
Hello, Henry. Thank you. And how are _you_?
HENRY
Thank you, I’m well. Gentlemen, are you all acquainted with my brother
Carl? Carl, these are my associates at the bank—they are all gentlemen
for whom I have a great deal of respect.
TIZENHAUSEN
How do you do, Mr. Tile?
YERMOLAYEV
Very pleased to make your acquaintance. You resemble your older brother
very much, very much.
HENRY
O, yes, we resemble each other a great deal. He is a fine fellow, a
serious worker.
_To Carl_:
And this gentleman is known as Feklusha—are you acquainted? They call him
Feklusha.
_Laughs._
We used to go to school together—to the Peter school. He was expelled
from the second class, and he has had hard luck all his life. Feklusha,
you were expelled from the second class, weren’t you?
_Laughs._
FEKLUSHA
From the third, Mr. Tile. For lack of ability. My conduct was excellent.
HENRY
He says, for lack of ability!
_Laughs._
I met him on the Nevsky yesterday. It was raining hard—Twenty years have
passed since we parted, still I recognized him. And he was walking very
fast. You were running, Feklusha, weren’t you?
FEKLUSHA
It was raining, and I had no umbrella. I was running!
HENRY
I invited him to dinner to-day. But, gentlemen, I hope you will forgive
me if the dinner is not as good as I should like you to have in my new
home. This is my first dinner at home, and I cannot guarantee that my
new cook is an expert.
YERMOLAYEV
Mr. Tile, why should you excuse yourself? I only hope we are not
inconveniencing you.
HENRY
Oh, no, I am glad.
TIZENHAUSEN
What excuses! On the contrary, I am highly flattered that you invited
me to the first dinner at your own home. When you are married, and you
will have everything in order, you will forget your old friend Andrey
Tizenhausen.
HENRY
Everything will be in order, but I will never forget old friends. Sit
still and smoke your cigar.
YERMOLAYEV
_To Carl_:
Didn’t I see you last week at Donon’s restaurant? You were sitting there
with a lady and an officer—I believe he was an officer of the guards?
CARL
_Lying._
No. I never go to Donon’s.
HENRY
Carl can’t afford such expensive restaurants.
YERMOLAYEV
Then I must be mistaken. Excuse me. But he looked exactly like you.
HENRY
You were mistaken, Dmitry.
_To Carl_:
Well, how are you getting on with your work? I like to hear about your
achievements.
CARL
_Lying._
I delivered the second installment yesterday.
HENRY
Oh, that’s good. You are a serious worker. But, gentlemen, isn’t this
song annoying you? I hear it again. My house painters are singing there.
TIZENHAUSEN
It’s without words. I didn’t think they called that a song.
YERMOLAYEV
_Listening._
But it’s good! There is something of the stage-coach driver in it.
_To Henry_:
My father was a stage-coach driver.
HENRY
It sounds very good to me, too. Although my father was of Swedish
descent, I feel that I am a Russian, and I understand _this_. This is
Russian sadness.
TIZENHAUSEN
Although my name is Tizenhausen, I don’t even know how to speak German. I
am a Russian. Nevertheless—you will pardon me, Henry, I don’t understand
the meaning of this Russian sadness.
HENRY
Oh, one must feel it.
TIZENHAUSEN
Do you feel it?
HENRY
Not now. Oh, now I am so happy that I cannot feel any sadness—Russian,
Swedish, or German!
_All laugh._
TIZENHAUSEN
Manly words, Henry! But won’t you show us your new apartment before it
gets dark? I am dying of curiosity, I want to see how you are building
your nest. Look out, Henry, I am an old and experienced man!
HENRY
Oh, you can’t frighten me, you old grumbler!
_Laughs._
I am only a happy fiancé, but you will see what a definite plan I have.
Oh, you’ll see!
YERMOLAYEV
I’d be delighted to see.
HENRY
Please follow me. Carl, be so kind as to stay here with Feklusha while
I show them my home. Feklusha, please smoke, the cigarettes are on the
table.
_They go out. FEKLUSHA, confused, takes a cigarette. CARL
lights a match and holds it out to him, while he examines him
coldly._
FEKLUSHA
_Bending over to the match_,
Thank you very much, I’ll do it myself.
CARL
Please. Why do they call you by such an absurd name—“Feklusha”? It’s a
woman’s name.
FEKLUSHA
How shall I tell you, Mr. Tile? I suppose it’s on account of my
character. I am always somewhat timid, inclined to tears, and in the same
manner, too hasty—quick in my thoughts.
CARL
Why “in the same manner”?
FEKLUSHA
They say so.
CARL
No, they don’t. But you are not very quick to-day. Where are you employed?
FEKLUSHA
How shall I tell you, Mr. Tile? I’m employed by the police.
CARL
What!
FEKLUSHA
No, no, I am working in the office of the chief of police, in the
passport department. Mr. Henry Tile knows about it.
CARL
Are you getting much?
FEKLUSHA
Forty rubles—well, together with gratuities and extras, and so on, it
comes to about ninety rubles. A very trivial sum.
CARL
A large family?
FEKLUSHA
Enormous!
CARL
Why don’t you get into the detective service? It’s more profitable, you
could earn more.
FEKLUSHA
You’re joking. How can I?
CARL
No. I am serious. You are hardly suited to be a _provocateur_, but as an
ordinary detective you might do. It isn’t as hard as it seems. How much
does a good detective get?
FEKLUSHA
A trifle—they don’t get much.
CARL
I mean a good detective?
FEKLUSHA
Oh, a really good detective gets enormous sums. But since you are talking
to me in such a friendly spirit, I must confess to you, I have tried it,
I have made all kinds of efforts—but—
CARL
But what?
FEKLUSHA
Nothing. I have no abilities of any kind, I am not fit for anything worth
while. That’s my misfortune. That’s why I’m doomed—I have no abilities.
CARL
None?
FEKLUSHA
Not the slightest! You know, there are so many opportunities around me
that if God had only given me some talent, I could have provided for my
family perfectly. But without talents, I run about, and no matter how
hard I try, I can’t earn another kopek. How can I?
CARL
Feklusha, could you make or get—I don’t know what you call it there—could
you get me a false foreign passport?
FEKLUSHA
No. I couldn’t! How could I?
CARL
But if you tried—for a substantial sum?
FEKLUSHA
What do you need it for?
CARL
One must always have a foreign passport for an emergency. No, I am only
jesting, of course. Were you really running when my brother Henry met you?
FEKLUSHA
You are laughing at me, Mr. Tile? Pardon me, but I don’t quite understand
your conversation.
CARL
No, Feklusha, I am not laughing. Do I look like a man who is fond of
laughing? Henry asked me to entertain you, and I am entertaining you.
Does Henry intend to assist you?
FEKLUSHA
I would be extremely happy! He told me that he was giving financial aid
to his brother—he meant you, Mr. Tile?
CARL
Yes. But I prefer to speak about you, Feklusha. Tell me, when you were a
detective, did you often have dealings with murderers?
FEKLUSHA
With murderers?
_Henry and his friends return, talking. Henry is laughing._
HENRY
You are surprised, you old grumbler? Let me brush off your coat, you have
soiled your sleeve, Dmitry.
CARL
I’ll bring the brush.
YERMOLAYEV
It isn’t worth bothering, really, it isn’t.
HENRY
He’ll bring the brush. Carl, fetch it. Well, gentlemen, how do you like
it?
_Laughs happily._
YERMOLAYEV
It’s a wonderful little apartment, Henry.
TIZENHAUSEN
Yes, I am astounded, Henry.
HENRY
In the dining room I will have oak-colored wall paper, eventually I will
change it to oak veneer. The windows of the nursery, as I said before,
will always have the sun. It will always be light there. That’s hygienic,
and essential in Petrograd. Unfortunately, I had too little sunshine
during my own childhood, so I want my children to have plenty. Sunlight
is essential.
TIZENHAUSEN
But, Henry, you talk as if you already had children, and a heap of them!
That is the self-assurance of a bachelor!
HENRY
I _will_ have them.
_Enter CARL with a brush._
HENRY
Please, Dmitry, Carl will brush your sleeve. I _will_ have them. I have
already bought a children’s cot—in a week from now it will be in its
proper place waiting for its master.
_Laughs._
YERMOLAYEV
And when is the wedding to take place?
HENRY
In a week from now the apartment will be ready. In seventeen days,
counting from to-day, the wedding will take place. To-day, by the next
mail, in about twenty minutes from now, just before dinner, I will get
a letter from Elizabeth, in which she will inform me exactly on what
day she arrives. Elizabeth went to Moscow to see her parents. Now this
room, Andrey! Here, rugs. There, portières. In these vases, always fresh
flowers.
TIZENHAUSEN
That’s a luxury, Henry.
HENRY
Fresh flowers are not a luxury. And here, over the piano, I will have
two gravures—meanwhile I haven’t enough money for paintings—the head of
Beethoven and Giorgoni’s “Concert.” Are you looking, Feklusha?
FEKLUSHA
I am staring!
HENRY
_Laughing._
Staring! And here, Andrey, in this corner, will be an armchair in which
I will sit quietly while Elizabeth plays Beethoven and Grieg. You see,
I have already secured the music from which she will play for the first
time, while I will be sitting in my armchair.
_Shakes the dust off the music and replaces it carefully and
tenderly._
How dusty!
TIZENHAUSEN
That’s from the workmen, Henry.
HENRY
There will be no dust in my home. Have you a piano, Feklusha?
FEKLUSHA
Where would I get it, Henry?
HENRY
_Laughs._
He says, where would he get it? Let me tell you, Andrey, this nook where
I am going to sit and listen is my particular joy.
YERMOLAYEV
Have you a lease for this apartment?
HENRY
Yes. I have a lease for three years, with the privilege of renewing. I
don’t want to change apartments every three years. Yes, Andrey. My mind
is dry and practical, I have no talent for music, but I am extremely fond
of it, just as my brother Carl is.
CARL
But you play, Henry.
HENRY
What! Don’t joke, Carl.
CARL
Have you forgotten? You played well in our nursery days.
TIZENHAUSEN
So that’s the sort of man you are, Henry! At the bank we are under the
impression that you are only a splendid financier, with a most remarkable
head for figures, while now it appears that you are also a musician.
Henry—a Mozart!
HENRY
_Laughs._
Not quite so important. Yes, I recall. There’s a little piece I used to
play with two fingers, that my mother taught me to play when I was a
child. It is called by a strange name—“The Waltz of the Dogs.”
CARL
Play it, Henry.
HENRY
_Threatening with his finger_:
Now, now, Carl!
TIZENHAUSEN
No, you must!
_To Yermolayev_:
Don’t you think he ought to play it for us, or we’ll be offended and
leave.
YERMOLAYEV
So that’s the kind of talents you have, Henry! I never suspected it,
never! And at the bank we don’t know anything about it. Play!
HENRY
_Laughs._
Now, now. But I must admit that Elizabeth is very fond of my “Waltz of
the Dogs,” very!
_All laugh._
CARL
Well, then, Henry?
HENRY
Carl, you are a jester.
_Mockingly_:
But since the audience demands it——
_Sits down by the piano, says with mock solemnity_:
I beg the audience to listen attentively. I will now play “The Waltz of
the Dogs.”
_He plays “The Waltz of the Dogs.” During the playing he sits
straight, serious, his face is immobile, almost petrified, but
after finishing his play, he bursts into laughter. While HENRY
is playing, CARL watches him coldly and closely, then he is the
first to applaud. General applause, but as there are only few
listeners, the sound is light._
HENRY
_Bowing mockingly_:
Ladies and gentlemen, your humble servant! I cannot play an encore, but
whoever wishes to hear this music again, is invited to come in seventeen
days to the wedding ceremony of Henry Tile and the maiden Elizabeth
Molchanova. Then I shall play it again.
_He laughs and closes the piano cover._
FEKLUSHA
At what time will the wedding take place?
HENRY
At half past seven. And don’t be late! But you will learn all this from
the invitations which are already being printed.
TIZENHAUSEN
Are you happy, Henry?
HENRY
Yes, my friend! Let me clasp your hand, but silently, silently, Andrey.
This way. And now, gentlemen, don’t you feel that after my music your
appetite has grown stronger? Aren’t you hungry? Carl, please tell my
new cook that in ten minutes we shall be ready to have her pass an
examination.
CARL
I am going.
_Exit, soon returns._
HENRY
Are you hungry, Feklusha?
FEKLUSHA
Yes. It wouldn’t do any harm to eat.
HENRY
_Laughs._
He says, it wouldn’t do any harm! And the cognac? Will that do any harm?
FEKLUSHA
That surely wouldn’t do any harm.
_All laugh._
TIZENHAUSEN
I suppose you think that your schoolmate doesn’t drink anything but
sacred water? Then you are making a great mistake—he drinks cognac.
HENRY
_Laughs._
He drinks cognac!
FEKLUSHA
_Laughs._
A pleasant occupation! There’s no use in hiding the fact: in spite of my
general lack of ability, _this_ talent——
_Sighs._
I _have_.
YERMOLAYEV
It’s most remarkable, Henry. I have watched you for eight years, we have
been in restaurants together, but I have never seen you drink too much!
HENRY
_Laughing._
Really?
YERMOLAYEV
Never!
TIZENHAUSEN
And you never will, Dmitry! He has a strong head, such as this world has
never seen before!
HENRY
Do you think so? Perhaps you are right. And what is more—Gentlemen, the
bell! That’s the postman, bringing a letter from Elizabeth. Carl, please.
_Exit CARL. HENRY is agitated, but restrained._
HENRY
_To Feklusha_:
So you are fond of cognac?
CARL
_Entering._
A letter from Moscow, registered. Sign here, Henry.
HENRY
_Signing._
I always asked her to send it registered. Here are twenty kopeks for the
postman. So. Now they are writing us from Moscow.
_Tearing the envelope open._
You will pardon me, gentlemen?
TIZENHAUSEN
How can we prevent a lover from reading his letters? Go ahead, Henry, we
are not here.
_HENRY reads slowly and long. He turns pale at the first lines,
and keeps growing ever paler. No one but CARL is watching him._
YERMOLAYEV
_Softly_:
A wonderful little apartment! It’s very hard to find one like it nowadays.
FEKLUSHA
You can’t even touch any apartments now—it’s simply terrible.
TIZENHAUSEN
Have you a family?
FEKLUSHA
An enormous one!
CARL
_Loudly_:
Aren’t you feeling well, Henry?
_All look with alarm at HENRY. He gets up, walks two steps, and
without saying a word strikes the table with a powerful blow
of his fist. Bottles and glasses fall. All jump to their feet._
CARL
Henry!
TIZENHAUSEN
Henry!
_HENRY strikes the table once more just as forcefully with his
fist, without saying a word. He stands silently, surveying them
all with red eyes, as if looking for some one to attack._
YERMOLAYEV
Bring him some water!
HENRY
I need no water!
TIZENHAUSEN
Henry! My dear Henry! Has anything terrible happened?
HENRY
No, nothing terrible.
CARL
Henry, calm yourself.
HENRY
I am calm.
TIZENHAUSEN
No. Something terrible has happened. My dear Henry! We are here! We are
all your friends, Henry!
HENRY
I must ask you to excuse me, but there will be no dinner to-day. Carl,
tell the new cook that she may go home now.
_Exit CARL, returns soon._
TIZENHAUSEN
Who cares about the dinner! You shouldn’t worry about such trifles, Henry!
YERMOLAYEV
Who cares about the dinner?
HENRY
There will be no dinner here to-day.
_He suddenly strikes the table again._
TIZENHAUSEN
_Almost crying._
Oh, my God! What a misfortune, Henry!
HENRY
Yes? Here is a very strange letter, Andrey. Either there’s something
wrong in this letter, or I can’t read it. Read it, Andrey, and tell me.
Perhaps I have grown blind.
TIZENHAUSEN
_Reads._
No, you haven’t grown blind, my poor Henry.
_Reads._
No, it’s impossible!
HENRY
And does it say there, “I still love you”?
TIZENHAUSEN
Yes, yes, Henry.
HENRY
So. Then I am not blind. And does it say there “But because of the
insistence of my parents I am going to be married.”
TIZENHAUSEN
Henry! She is already married. She is already married!
HENRY
She is already married to a wealthy man. What is his name, Andrey?
TIZENHAUSEN
His name is not mentioned.
HENRY
Not mentioned. So. And how did she sign it?
TIZENHAUSEN
_Reading_:
“Your unworthy Elizabeth.”
HENRY
Unworthy Elizabeth. Yes. Unworthy Elizabeth.
_Suddenly strikes the table forcefully._
Unworthy Elizabeth!
TIZENHAUSEN
But my dear friend, my unfortunate friend.
CARL
Keep up your courage, Henry!
HENRY
I will not do it any more.
YERMOLAYEV
Henry, it isn’t worth worrying about. Such things happen in life. You
will find a better bride for yourself.
HENRY
I will not do it any more. But, Andrey, don’t you find that it is written
with precise exactness: “Unworthy Elizabeth.” Who? “Unworthy Elizabeth.”
Who? Henry Tile. And who else? “Unworthy Elizabeth.” Don’t you feel like
laughing, Feklusha?
FEKLUSHA
_Frightened._
No, Henry.
HENRY
You must not laugh. I will not allow any laughter. But, Andrey, don’t you
think that the whole letter is written in very precise language?
TIZENHAUSEN
Excuse me, Henry, but in my opinion—the opinion of an honest man—this is
a contemptible letter. Yes.
HENRY
And in my opinion it is simply a very precise letter. Henry Tile loves
accuracy—all his life he never made a mistake in a single kopek, he
never made a mistake in addition, he never made a mistake in a single
cipher, and now they have written a precise letter to Henry Tile. And it
is signed: “Unworthy Elizabeth.” Gentlemen, I should like to remain here
alone.
TIZENHAUSEN
But how can you stay here alone, my dear friend?
HENRY
Never mind. I’ll stay here alone.
CARL
If you like, I’ll stay with you.
HENRY
No, Carl. I don’t need you. Good night. To-morrow we will meet at the
bank. Carl I want to say a few words to you.
_Quietly_:
Here is some money, please take these people to a restaurant and treat
them to a good dinner.
CARL
May I clasp your hand, Henry?
HENRY
It’s hardly necessary, but, please. Press it firmly.
CARL
I am pressing it firmly.
HENRY
_Smiling_:
No, press harder still.
CARL
I am. What do you want?
_They strangely measure their strength. The others look on
uneasily._
HENRY
Are you pressing with all your strength? Press harder.
CARL
I can’t press harder.
HENRY
And I?
_Presses Carl’s hand._
TIZENHAUSEN
Don’t, Henry. Leave him!
CARL
Henry, stop!
HENRY
_Smiling_:
And I?
CARL
_Turning pale and shrinking_,
It hurts. Stop! You’ll break my hand!
_Henry releases his brother’s hand and laughs._
HENRY
You are very strong, Carl.
CARL
I don’t like such jokes!
HENRY
_Morosely_:
Excuse me, Carl. That was really wrong. Excuse me. Good night, gentlemen.
The door shuts itself, so I will not come out with you. Carl, I ask you
once more to forgive me.
_All go out irresolutely, one by one, with different
expressions upon their faces, shaking HENRY’S hand. HENRY
remains alone; walks up and down the room. He is tall, wears a
dark coat, with round flaps, gray trousers, neatly creased—his
usual costume. All new and strong, and his shoes are also
strong and new. His face is regular, dark-complexioned, stern.
His hair is short. He wears a small mustache. The house
painters resume their song. HENRY stops and listens._
HENRY
What’s that again? Who is there? What’s that?
_Listens; suddenly strikes the back of the armchair violently._
Stop!
_The song is continued. It is sung softly, sadly, monotonously.
HENRY walks over to the door and shouts._
Eh, you! Stop! Quit your work! Go home!
_He walks up and down the room again, pauses, walks again,
looking at the door impatiently._
They call this “Russian sadness.” What nonsense, “Russian sadness!” Is
there also such a thing as Swedish sadness? Then I feel it too! Who?
Henry Tile. Who? Unworthy Elizabeth? And who else? And again Henry Tile,
Henry Tile—O my God!
_Sighs, whistling, as one who has a toothache. The two house
painters, frightened, slip by quietly in the dark like two
shadows._
Wait! It isn’t necessary to work any longer—it’s dark already—you can’t
see anything. And tell your master that I don’t need your work any more,
anyway. Where are you going? This way, there’s no one there. The door
shuts itself.
_The house painters go out, HENRY roams about the room, going
to unexpected nooks, taps on the wall, as though looking for
some forgotten door. He gradually blends with the gathering
darkness._
There is no one there, and there is no one here. Alone. Oh, Elizabeth,
Elizabeth! Alone! Now I can break everything, smash and throw to the
ground!
_Throws something on the floor._
I can destroy—and no one can stop me. I can destroy everything. Here is
the piano.
_He strikes the piano forcefully, and it resounds._
How it sounds! And if I strike it again?
_He strikes it again and it sounds again._
How it sounds! When I banged the table, they were frightened and they
cried: “Henry, Henry, Henry!” I suppose I must have struck it powerfully,
for my hand hurts. They cried, “Henry!” then, but now nobody will cry.
I can strike, break, destroy. Nobody will stop me—I am alone. And I can
take the revolver from the table, put it against my head and fire. What
then? Then I will lie on the floor until morning. Then some one will
break the door—who?
_Pause._
No! But she is already married. My God! My God! My God! She is already
married—already! My God! I hadn’t thought of this. What shall I do, what
am I going to do all night long—_all night_. She is already married—How
am I going to pass the night? It is so early, darkness has just set in.
What am I going to do all night long! Elizabeth! Liza!
_Pause._
No.
_Pause._
_Suddenly his figure stirs in the darkness and he walks
quickly._
But that is impossible! I have forgotten! I have taken the apartment for
three years. That’s impossible, that’s stupid—I cannot. Three years! I
am ashamed. I have made a nursery, but I am not so ashamed of that. And
my apartment? My God! And I have placed music upon the piano. Music. I
bought it. Yes. What was I thinking about? She would have played, and I
would have been sitting quietly, listening. I would have kissed her hand.
Perhaps it would have been just as dark as it is now. I would have taken
her gentle hand and put it to my lips. How is it done? This way.
_Silence. In the darkness his soft voice is heard, full of
longing_:
What a long night! What a dark night! Liza!
_Curtain_
ACT II
SCENE: _The same scene as in the first act, only the dinner
table is missing. Nothing is changed there, although a year has
gone by. It is evening and electric lights are burning. CARL
TILE is sitting at the writing table, cross-examining IVAN, the
man servant._
CARL
And what time does my brother usually come home?
IVAN
He has his dinner at the restaurant and comes home about eight o’clock.
He goes out again at nine or ten. I don’t know when he comes back.
CARL
And when do you go home?
IVAN
At ten. Sometimes he sends me away earlier.
CARL
Did you serve in the army?
IVAN
Yes, sir. In the cavalry.
CARL
Ah! Fine! You look all right, Ivan, and you answer questions sensibly.
Fine!
IVAN
Glad to serve you.
CARL
Fine! Well, does he go out every evening?
IVAN
No, twice a week. All the other evenings he stays home. Perhaps he goes
out after ten, only I don’t know about it.
CARL
Correct. Who visits him?
IVAN
No one.
CARL
Really?
IVAN
Only Mr. Alexandrov comes up very often.
CARL
Which Alexandrov? From the bank?
IVAN
_Smiling_:
No. They call him “Feklusha.”
CARL
Ah! What do they do?
IVAN
I don’t know.
CARL
You answer wonderfully. But what do you serve them?
IVAN
Cognac.
CARL
Much?
IVAN
Plenty. We have a large stock of it.
CARL
Indeed! I know this Mr. Alexandrov. Be careful, Ivan, that he doesn’t
steal a fur coat some day.
IVAN
_Smiling_:
I’m watching him.
CARL
You are a splendid fellow. Now, Ivan, tell me: I suppose you have a key
of your own for the outside door?
IVAN
Yes, sir. I have two keys for the back door. One is an extra key in case
I lose the other one.
CARL
Correct. Can’t you give me one of the keys? I sometimes pass here after
ten o’clock. I want to get a book, and there is no one to open the door.
IVAN
I doubt it.
CARL
Nonsense. I am not Mr. Alexandrov, who may steal a fur coat. Here you
have five rubles.
IVAN
Thank you very much. But I still have my doubts about it.
CARL
Nonsense! Here are five rubles more.
IVAN
Here is the key. But in case anything happens?
CARL
Of course, I take everything upon myself. You are a splendid fellow! I
like sensible people. Here are two rubles more. Wait. Who’s ringing the
bell?
IVAN
I suppose it is Mr. Alexandrov—it can’t be any one else. Excuse me.
_Exit, returns shortly, followed by FEKLUSHA. Announces,
smiling_:
Mr. Alexandrov.
FEKLUSHA
_Flatteringly_:
Good evening, Mr. Tile.
_CARL walks up and down the room, without responding, as though
not noticing Alexandrov at all._
I suppose Henry will be here soon. It is almost eight o’clock.
_CARL walks silently, then stops in front of FEKLUSHA and looks
at him fixedly._
CARL
I am dreadfully sick of you, Mr. Feklusha! For more than six months I
haven’t come here once without seeing that simpleton’s face of yours. Why
do you snoop around here? You work for the police, while I am an honest
man, a student—you are repulsive to me.
FEKLUSHA
What will you do about it, Mr. Tile?
CARL
I’ve offended him. “Mr. Tile!” Yes, I am Mr. Tile, and if you steal a fur
coat some day, Mr. Feklusha—
FEKLUSHA
Upon my word, I’ll complain to Henry. Why do you persecute me, why do you
make my life miserable? I work for the police, but I am an honest man—I
have a family.
CARL
He talks of honesty!
IVAN
I’m going to complain!
CARL
And I will tell him that you are lying. Whom will he believe, Mr.
Feklusha? I’m bored. I didn’t have enough sleep last night. Tell me some
interesting lie.
IVAN
I am not a liar. Lie yourself.
CARL
Rude—rude into the bargain! It seems you have no abilities of any kind.
That’s terrible—to be a nonentity, a fool, to be unable to do anything,
even to lie. And in addition to that, to have an enormous family, dirty
children—to love them, and wipe their noses tenderly! Fool! And in
addition to all that to be sensitive, to have a certain self-respect.
Self-respect! And I suppose his wife beats him too—I can tell by his
beard. Your wife beats you, Mr. Feklusha, doesn’t she?
FEKLUSHA
I don’t feel like answering you.
CARL
I suppose your wife is a very untidy woman. And you are not particularly
clean yourself, Mr. Alexandrov. You are repulsive to me. Why aren’t you
just an insect? Then you could be easily removed—with insect powder. We
wouldn’t have to stand upon ceremony with you. How absurd!
_He walks silently, then stops again in front of FEKLUSHA, very
close to him._
Are you angry? Don’t be angry. Believe me, I was only jesting. Don’t you
want to look at me at all? Well, let me see your little eyes. I slept
very poorly last night, I spent the night with a woman, and I am nervous;
do you understand, Feklusha, I am nervous! Under such circumstances a man
will talk all sorts of nonsense.
FEKLUSHA
I’m not angry, but why should you offend a man like that? I haven’t done
you any harm. It’s a sin, Mr. Tile.
CARL
It isn’t right, I have already admitted it. Tell me, my dear fellow, what
have you been doing here with my brother Henry?
FEKLUSHA
Nothing. Upon my word of honor!
CARL
Since you give me your word of honor, I bow to you and am silent. But
what does he do? Every man does something—what does my brother Henry do?
FEKLUSHA
I don’t know. Upon my word of honor!
CARL
Henry stays home, he has given up his sprees, and spends his evenings
with a strange character like you. Don’t you think Henry has gone out of
his mind—not altogether, but a little?
FEKLUSHA
Oh, no—I don’t think so at all. You and I may go out of our minds, but
not he!
CARL
It is very interesting to talk with you. You have such fascinating little
eyes, Mr. Feklusha, and if you are not a downright scoundrel, then I know
nothing about scoundrels.
FEKLUSHA
Again?
CARL
Let us combine, Mr. Feklusha. Do you want to make twenty thousand rubles?
You can’t imagine it? Well, then, here is the proposition: Persuade my
brother Henry to insure his life for a hundred thousand rubles.
FEKLUSHA
I don’t understand you. I can’t tell when you are jesting and when you
are not.
CARL
It’s as plain as day. Altogether one hundred thousand rubles. Twenty
thousand for you, and eighty thousand for me, as his brother, and for
the idea.
FEKLUSHA
But, for that, he would have to die!
_Carl laughs._
CARL
You are comical.
FEKLUSHA
But what is he going to die from? What an idea! Henry is a strong man.
CARL
_Laughs loudly._
You are very comical, Mr. Feklusha! You ought to be in a circus. You are
a clown!
FEKLUSHA
_Rising._
I am going to complain to Henry! What do you mean? Why do you annoy me
like Satan? Satan!
CARL
_Indifferently_:
You are a perfect fool! And there is such an odor about you—I suppose you
don’t know what a bath is. Fie! Go and take a bath. I’ll give you some
money for a bath.
FEKLUSHA
I’ll tell him everything, you’ll see!
CARL
_Still more indifferently_:
Hold your tongue! I am disgusted with you. I want to walk and think. Keep
quiet—and don’t disturb me. If you breathe a word about it I will tell my
brother Henry this evening that you were urging me to insure his life and
kill him. Silence!
_He walks up and down the room slowly. FEKLUSHA is silent. A
knock on the door in the corridor. After a few seconds HENRY
enters._
HENRY
Good evening, Carl. How are you? Good evening, Feklusha. Sit down.
CARL
Thank you, and how are you, Henry?
HENRY
Quite well. Have you been here long?
CARL
A little while.
HENRY
Did you come for money, Carl? I believe your month is not up yet.
CARL
Thank you. I still have enough. Besides, I have found a good pupil.
HENRY
Don’t stand upon ceremony with me, Carl. I intend to increase your
allowance twenty rubles a month. Feklusha, at yesterday’s conference they
decided to increase my salary by twelve hundred a year.
FEKLUSHA
Really? I congratulate you, I congratulate you from the bottom of my
heart.
HENRY
The management appreciates my services.
CARL
I don’t even congratulate you, Henry—it is so natural. Yesterday I met
Tizenhausen, and he told me that you have become ideal. He assured me
that he had never seen such a correct, tireless, and perfect worker as
you are. Everybody fears you at the bank.
HENRY
Oh, yes, they are all afraid of me. When I pass by, they don’t dare lift
their heads from their work. Yesterday I dismissed two clerks for not
being punctual. Yes, people have reason to be afraid of me.
CARL
Of course, you don’t include me among them? I am jesting, Henry. But here
is something I wanted to ask you seriously—I was talking about it with
your friend here.
HENRY
With my client, Carl. The Romans used to say so.
CARL
I beg your pardon, with your client. I find that his condition is
terrible. He has an enormous family, lack of means, lack of abilities.
HENRY
Well?
CARL
I don’t need any more money. Be generous, Henry, give him the increase of
twenty rubles a month. I ask you seriously.
_Pause. HENRY looks at his brother attentively. CARL is serious
and modest._
HENRY
Good, Good! Feklusha, did you hear what he said? Thanks to my brother,
Carl, now you will get twenty rubles a month from me.
FEKLUSHA
_Confused._
I really don’t know—My God! Thank you, Mr. Tile. I can’t express my—but
in the name of my whole family—!
_On the point of tears. The brothers look at him._
CARL
_To his brother, softly_:
He is agitated.
_Loudly_:
Well, good night, Henry, good night. Are you staying home this evening?
HENRY
No, I have an appointment. Good night, Carl. The door shuts itself.
_Exit CARL. HENRY waits until the door closes. Mockingly shows
with his face and hand how the door closed, and laughs loudly.
FEKLUSHA looks at him with a certain sense of fear._
FEKLUSHA
Henry, you were drinking this evening at dinner?
HENRY
I always drink at dinner. If Carl were not my brother, I would have said
that Carl was a—fool. (_Laughs._) They gave me an increase of twelve
hundred! They say I am ideal. Feklusha, they are afraid of me at the bank!
FEKLUSHA
_Laughs flatteringly._
Very clever, Henry! I am amazed how you do it. Was it true that you
dismissed two clerks?
HENRY
Yes.
FEKLUSHA
After all, I am sorry for them. Have they families?
HENRY
Whatever the situation, I cannot permit inaccuracies. They deserved to be
dismissed.
FEKLUSHA
And what about the twenty rubles for me? Is that true, or were you only
jesting?
HENRY
You are a rabbit—simply a cowardly rabbit. No, I was not jesting.
You will get twenty rubles a month—but not long, not long, Feklusha!
(_Laughs._) These foolish people at the bank are afraid of me. I want to
steal a million from them, and they are afraid of me! I want to steal a
million from them, and they say, “Henry Tile is an irreproachable worker,
he is ideal.” Isn’t it comical, Alexandrov?
FEKLUSHA
_Sternly_:
I don’t believe it, Henry. These are only words to test me, nothing else.
Excuse me.
HENRY
You believe I am so honest?
FEKLUSHA
I don’t believe anything. I admit that with all your talent you
could easily appropriate from the bank not only one million, but two
millions—as many as you want. But—!
HENRY
Steal, Feklusha! Speak as a friend—steal!
FEKLUSHA
Still worse—steal! But what’s the sense of it? What’s the sense, Henry?
I ask you with tears in my eyes, explain it to me, don’t torture my
head, don’t torment me! Here they have given you an increase of twelve
hundred and they will soon give you another increase—Henry, you are my
benefactor, but I am absolutely convinced that you are just making sport
of me.
HENRY
You are foolish, Feklusha.
FEKLUSHA
I have heard that many times. You can’t surprise me with that,
nevertheless I don’t believe in your plan. My God! And why do you talk
to me about it? What sort of comrade am I to you? You have the mind of
a cabinet minister, and what am I? No. I am absolutely sure you are
jesting, you are just acting, as in a play. You are not going to run away
anywhere!
HENRY
You are a fool, Feklusha! You are all fools, and none of you knows
Henry Tile with his great soul. I have a great soul! My soul dwells in
a palace, and not in this stupid apartment, where the nursery windows
face the sun! But let them be deceived—I am gladdened by the sight of the
deluded fools.
FEKLUSHA
I don’t want to know about it, I don’t want to! Do you hear, Mr. Tile, or
no? I don’t want to hear any more about it. For the past six months, ever
since you told me about it, I haven’t slept a single night—upon my word!
HENRY
Why should you sleep?
FEKLUSHA
What do you mean? I once lived without care.
HENRY
Why should you sleep? I do not sleep nights either. Oh, I have slept long
enough, and now I have awakened. Don’t you see the sun that is shining
for me at night? That is my sun, I have awakened. Henry Tile, who is fond
of punctuality, who placed this stupid music upon the piano, who leased
the apartment for three years, for ten years, for a hundred years—Henry
Tile has awakened! Would you like me to play for you “The Waltz of the
Dogs”? Listen. I’ll play for you “The Waltz of the Dogs.”
_He plays it in the same serious, wooden, affected manner as
before. Then he laughs._
HENRY
Did you hear it?
FEKLUSHA
I did. You were drinking at dinner this evening.
HENRY
I always drink at dinner, I told you that before. But I see that you too
need a drink to brighten up your dull brain.
_Rings._
We’ll have a _little cognac_ now.
FEKLUSHA
_Laughing, pathetically_:
Now I believe you again. How you say it, a little cognac.
HENRY
Not so loud.
_Enter Ivan._
Ivan, give us some cognac—or—that would be fine—let us have some Swedish
punch. Quick!
_Exit Ivan._
Do you like Swedish punch?
FEKLUSHA
I adore Swedish punch, but what’s the use? I don’t see the use of it.
HENRY
The use of it is that you drink cognac and punch, while Henry Tile is
deceiving the fools with his arithmetic. And the use of it is also—and I
want you to take note of it—that in about two weeks from now I am going
away with a million rubles. I will not tell you the exact day.
FEKLUSHA
Why should I know the exact day? But how will you go, if you haven’t even
a foreign passport?
HENRY
I have it. But listen: Yesterday I was again examining the railway map
and I discovered that my original plan of escape by way of Stockholm will
not do. I’d be caught in Stockholm or in Malme. I am a severe critic. I
see everything in advance. I have another plan now.
FEKLUSHA
What is it?
HENRY
I am not going to tell you.
FEKLUSHA
I wouldn’t remember it, anyway. How many plans you have already told me!
I forget them as soon as you tell them to me. What a head I have! Are we
going to examine the map this evening? I like it—it’s so interesting, it
takes my breath away.
HENRY
No. Not so loud. Ivan is coming.
_Enter Ivan, with punch, which he puts on the table._
Ivan, you may go home now, I’ll not need you this evening. Good night,
Ivan.
IVAN
Good night.
_Exit._
HENRY
Drink, Feklusha, brighten up your dull brain. It’s excellent punch!
FEKLUSHA
If I could only brighten it up! To-day my little boy took sick—the
measles, I don’t know—I went away from home—there is nothing for me to do
there. A fine father, indeed!
HENRY
This evening we will go to that dirty little tavern of yours. I want to
drink much this evening, to talk and see many people. But not fools!
Feklusha, do you know that Elizabeth came to me twice and knocked at this
door?
FEKLUSHA
No. Really? She was here herself?
HENRY
Yes. The first time she was sent away by Ivan, and the second time I
myself opened this door for her, I raised my hand this way and said
to her, “Go!” She said, “Forgive me.” I said to her, “Go, foolish
Elizabeth!” and I closed the door.
FEKLUSHA
_Drinks and laughs._
I pity the women, they are foolish. But you loved her?
HENRY
No! And we are going this evening to that little tavern of yours—I like
the people in that tavern!
FEKLUSHA
Very well, then, let us go. I am ready for anything.
HENRY
And I like you, too. With you I can talk as if I were alone. And yet I am
_not_ alone, because you have ears. But I _am_ alone because these are
the ears of a donkey! But you are sly—you are a very sly little animal.
FEKLUSHA
How am I sly? What are you saying? I was dreaming of becoming a
detective—why, anybody would escape from under my very nose, and I
wouldn’t even notice it! Eh?
_Drinks._
HENRY
No. You are a very, very sly little rabbit. I can see it. You have
thought up something for yourself, you don’t want to be a fool. Oh, you
are a great scoundrel! But that doesn’t matter, for I have already been
forewarned by my angel!
_Laughs._
That doesn’t matter!
FEKLUSHA
Stop this. Is it possible that you know all the trains and all the
steamers?
HENRY
All.
FEKLUSHA
Just think of it! All? And I can’t even find the right street car, I
always get into the wrong one. And is it possible that you need only two
sheets of paper in order to get that million? It’s hardly credible!
HENRY
Only two.
FEKLUSHA
What a talent! And what kind of papers do you need?
HENRY
You don’t have to know that, you foolish Feklusha. That’s superfluous.
But in about two weeks a certain very correct gentleman will be traveling
on a certain steamer and he will have a million in his pocket. And
traveling on a certain steamer that gentleman will raise his hand this
way—he will stretch it towards the distant shores and say, Good-by,
distant and foolish shores! Good-by, apartment with a nursery facing the
sun! And good-by and be cursed, and dead, and buried, Henry Tile, who
loved order! Feklusha, would you like me to clasp your hand so that your
bones will break?
FEKLUSHA
No. I don’t like such jokes, Henry.
HENRY
Mr. Tile, and not Henry! If I see you again in any way disrespectful to
me, Feklusha, my old comrade, the only friend of Henry Tile, I will not
only break your hand, but I will break every bone in your body. Do you
hear?
FEKLUSHA
It was unintentional. How could I allow myself to be disrespectful to
you? My God, don’t I understand the difference?
HENRY
Well said! Empty your glass and let us go at once to your little tavern.
There you will keep quiet and drink until your eyes turn green, and I
will drink, laugh, bang the table, and talk about the foolish, dead Henry
Tile. Come!
FEKLUSHA
_Rising._
I was going to ask you something, since you are so kind. Of course, I am
a married man, but why shouldn’t we go to a certain house on the way from
the tavern? The women there are excellent, they are even intelligent.
Really! It would be nice for you, too.
HENRY
Foolish and vulgar. You are a dreadfully petty scamp, you are a rabbit.
Come!
FEKLUSHA
_Emptying his glass._
Right away. Well, then, we won’t. I am not a scamp at all. I am simply an
unfortunate man. If my child is ill—I am coming.
HENRY
Turn out the light.
_They turn out the light and go out. For some time the stage
is empty. Then the door from the other rooms opens slowly, a
careful whisper is heard, and two shadows, dimly lighted by the
lantern in the street, move in the room. The restrained laugh
of a woman is heard._
CARL
_Loudly and firmly_:
There’s no one here. They went away. You may come in. Don’t be afraid.
WOMAN’S VOICE
Oh, I hurt my knee.
_Laughs._
We are here like thieves.
CARL
I can’t find the switch. I think it is here. Wait, Liza, don’t go before
I turn on the light.
ELIZABETH
No, don’t turn on the light, wait. I am sitting in an armchair. But I
don’t realize where I am. It is terribly interesting. We are like thieves
in a strange apartment. They also sit in armchairs and look around this
way. Let us make believe we are thieves, Carl.
_Jestingly, in a threatening whisper_:
Let us kill and rob your brother Henry Tile.
CARL
I haven’t the slightest desire to play. But it was stupid of me not to
take along the flashlight. Where are you? I can’t see you.
ELIZABETH
Here.
CARL
I can’t see anything, Liza. I am falling asleep. Another night like this
and another day like to-day, and I’ll fall asleep while walking. Strange!
Aren’t you tired?
ELIZABETH
_Laughing softly_:
No.
CARL
And I—
_Yawns._
Do you ever let your husband sleep?
ELIZABETH
My husband—yes. But how interesting it is that we can’t see anything.
I don’t know where you are sitting. What room is this? I am afraid
to look at it in the light. I was in this apartment only twice. It
wasn’t finished yet, but Henry showed me how it would be finished.
Tell me—no, don’t turn on the light, but tell me—here, over the piano,
are two pictures. Wait, I recall, yes, the head of Beethoven and some
“concert”—yes?
CARL
No. There are no pictures here.
ELIZABETH
And the rugs?
CARL
There are no rugs here.
ELIZABETH
And the armchair in the corner?
CARL
I don’t know. I am telling you Henry left the apartment unfinished. I am
tired of this, Liza. Why did you drag me here? What do you want here?
ELIZABETH
I want it.
CARL
If this isn’t your usual foolishness, it is a perverted whim. It’s
immaterial to me, but this is simply uninteresting. And if it is part
of your program this evening to shed tears about the broken home, then
pardon me—I’ll fall asleep.
ELIZABETH
I don’t remember Henry’s face. Does he resemble you? I can’t recall his
face.
CARL
Good night. I am falling asleep.
ELIZABETH
You are dreadfully abominable. I am surprised that such an honest and
honorable man as Henry should have such a dishonest brother.
CARL
And therefore, leaving the honest Henry, you became the mistress of the
dishonest Carl? Correct!
ELIZABETH
According to you, I am also——
CARL
Also what? First you betrayed Henry with your husband, now you are
betraying both Henry and your husband with me. Well, your husband, of
course, is a fool, but after all—and then, you are supporting me. You
know, that is not particularly moral.
ELIZABETH
Turn on the light.
CARL
Gladly.
_Looking for the switch._
Lizette, I don’t understand why you are so disgusted with me. You have
just said so tragically, “Abominable.” There!
_Turns on the light. ELIZABETH is sitting in the armchair near
the piano; she covers her eyes with both hands as the light is
suddenly turned on. CARL sits down again, tired, blinking at
the light._
I am convenient, because you may say everything and do everything with
me. The devil take them! They have been drinking punch here. That makes
the picture lively. Mr. Feklusha is managing his affairs quite nicely.
Punch!
_ELIZABETH takes her hands away from her eyes and examines
the room with fear. She wears large diamond earrings. She is
beautiful._
ELIZABETH
This is terrible! This is terrible!
CARL
It is simply tasteless.
ELIZABETH
No! It looks as if a crime had been committed here. A crime _was_
committed here. I am a murderess, Carl!
CARL
Nonsense! A woman’s nerves! But something is here—a certain interesting
odor. Crime! There’s a word that should be pronounced cautiously. It has
a magic effect. Ah, the devil take it. And the door. He has a key, he may
come back any moment. Let us go!
ELIZABETH
Wait. I am looking. I love him!
CARL
I have no doubt. What wonderful diamonds you have, Liza!
ELIZABETH
I love him. Why have I done it? It wasn’t necessary, it wasn’t necessary
at all. I have an enormous amount of money, but I don’t need it, I don’t
need it at all. But at that time I wanted money—or didn’t I want it? I
don’t know. I don’t know! Carl, I’ll give you ten thousand to-morrow, if
you like.
CARL
I do.
ELIZABETH
I’ll give you twenty thousand, if you like.
CARL
No, you won’t, my dear. You won’t give me even ten thousand, but you will
give me five hundred for this visit. I know you, my dear! But I am not
complaining. I am satisfied.
_Walks uneasily._
Liza, my nerves are on edge.
_Stretching himself._
We must do something. Let us go driving like mad in an automobile. Come.
Meanwhile, let me kiss your ear—you have such wonderful ears.
ELIZABETH
Ears or—earrings?
CARL
Both. You are such a darling.
ELIZABETH
Leave me alone. Don’t dare!
CARL
I dare. And now this one!
_Kisses her ear._
ELIZABETH
_Mockingly_:
Karlusha!
CARL
_Quickly stepping away, angrily_:
Please!
ELIZABETH
Karlusha! Karlusha!
CARL
_Turning pale_:
I have already asked you never to call me by that foolish name. My name
is Carl and not Karlusha. Please remember!
ELIZABETH
_Also turning pale, but continuing to laugh._
Karlusha! No! You are just Karlusha!
CARL
_Violently_:
But I ask you—seriously! You may call me whatever you like. I will not be
offended, but I can’t bear this nickname. Do you hear? Don’t irritate me.
Don’t irritate me!
ELIZABETH
And what will happen if I do—Karlusha?
CARL
_Slowly_:
What will happen? My brother Henry will be tried for the murder of
Elizabeth. I will choke you. Silence!
ELIZABETH
_Retreating, in a whisper_:
Karlusha, Karlusha, Karlusha!
CARL
_Advancing a step, also in a low voice_:
Keep quiet. Will you? For the last time——
ELIZABETH
_Hiding behind the armchair_:
Karlusha!
_CARL advances towards her silently. ELIZABETH retreats,
without turning her widened eyes from him. Suddenly she stops
and listens._
Hush!
_Frightened._
Some one is coming.
CARL
_Also frightened._
Where? Ssh!
ELIZABETH
Footsteps.
CARL
No.
ELIZABETH
Some one is behind that door.
CARL
Tss. Where?
_Both are pale, bending, listening attentively. Pause. The
electric light is burning._
_Curtain_
ACT III
SCENE I: _Night. Fog. The bank of one of the Petrograd canals.
Lanterns are seen in the distance. A cast iron gate is seen
distinctly in the foreground. Beyond it, the canal and the
other side are enveloped in darkness, and enormous houses are
outlined faintly in the background. Lights are seen in some of
the windows here and there—the lights are faint and motionless
like yellow spots._
_HENRY TILE and FEKLUSHA are standing and talking, half leaning
against the gate. Henry is smoking a cigar._
HENRY
You are drunk, Feklusha, you are absolutely drunk. Your eyes are green.
Come.
FEKLUSHA
I won’t.
HENRY
Shall I call a cab? Then you won’t have to drag your feet.
FEKLUSHA
I don’t want to.
HENRY
I’ll give you some more cognac.
FEKLUSHA
I don’t want any. You’re drunk yourself. I don’t want to go to your
apartment—leave me alone. I don’t want to!
HENRY
Don’t yell.
FEKLUSHA
I’m not yelling.
_Pause._
Let me go, Henry. I will go down on my knees before you, if you like. I
will go down on my knees before you, but let me go, or I will shout again.
HENRY
Alexandrov!
FEKLUSHA
I won’t. Why did you take me along?
_Cries._
I was hiding, but you found me—I can’t bear it any more. I don’t want
to go to that tavern any more. I don’t want your cognac, I want to go
home—my wife is waiting for me.
HENRY
You are drunk. Don’t cry, it’s foolish. Listen, have you forgotten what
you wanted to do? Try to recall! Recall! You were planning to betray me
when I run away with the money—in order to get one third. That would make
you rich—rich! Recall!
FEKLUSHA
Well, I wanted to do it, but now I don’t want to do it. I was driven
insane by your maps; I began to feel like a bloodhound. I was running and
running, without knowing where I was running. The day I met you on the
Nevsky was cursed—I felt happy—I had found an old friend!
HENRY
Yes, that day was cursed. You express yourself precisely. Come to my
house, come; it will be very nice there. Have you forgotten? We will
light all the lamps, I will get some cognac.
FEKLUSHA
I won’t go. That’s my last word, Mr. Tile.
HENRY
Call me Henry.
FEKLUSHA
I don’t want to. Either you run away with your million or—to the devil
with it all! To the devil!
HENRY
Very well, I’ll run away. Have another drink, it’s cognac.
FEKLUSHA
Where did you get it?
_Drinks from the bottle._
Very good. And you?
HENRY
I’ll have a drink, too.
_Drinks._
FEKLUSHA
_Laughs._
Fine comrades! The people of your bank should see you now—how funny! By
God!
HENRY
_Laughs softly._
They are sleeping, and they see in their dreams that Henry Tile is busy
with his arithmetic. While Henry Tile is drinking cognac with Feklusha.
_Both laugh, swaying._
FEKLUSHA
Where are we? I don’t know this place. Where are we, Henry?
HENRY
This is the Catherine Canal. And that is the fog—and there is the water.
Do you want to spit into the water?
FEKLUSHA
I do.
_Spits._
And what is that?
HENRY
Those are the lighted windows of the houses on the other side. Someone is
awake.
FEKLUSHA
And I thought only we were awake. Haven’t you any more cognac? I would
drink some more. I feel cold.
HENRY
Come to my apartment, and I’ll give you more. There is a little round
table, and on the table are cognac and punch. Are you fond of punch?
FEKLUSHA
_Still obstinate, but weakening_,
I won’t go. Either you run away right now, or—! Why don’t you run away?
What sort of a thief are you? Upon my word of honor! I’ll throw myself
into the canal, by God, I will!
HENRY
Oh, what a sly little beast you are! You are all very sly beasts, and you
want to be slier than Henry Tile, but you cannot. He will deceive you,
Feklusha! I was jesting. You may run after me night and day, but you will
not overtake me. You will lose your reason altogether, your eyes will
turn yellow, you will be howling at the door, but you will not overtake
me!
FEKLUSHA
My eyes are yellow now. And you are also drunk.
HENRY
You are foolish! I cannot be drunk. I drink this—(_Throws the bottle into
the water_)—and it turns into fire, it burns like a flame. I am full of
fire!
FEKLUSHA
I would have run away twenty times.
HENRY
Oh, yes. You would have run away twenty times. Another fool would have
run away twenty times—and twenty times the police would have caught
another fool! But I am waiting. I am thinking and waiting. Oh, I have
grown tired of making plans and upsetting them, but soon I am going to
have a plan which cannot be upset—and then I shall disappear. One, two,
three—Uf!
_Blows at his fingers._
Where is Henry Tile? Disappeared. Excuse me, he has put on a magic cap.
Feklusha! Could you overtake a phantom?
FEKLUSHA
_Laughing plaintively_:
Now it seems to me that I believe you again. You are a real tempter—a
demon. I had better go home.
HENRY
Believe me, please, believe me! I have a remarkable mind which sees
everything. You say this is the fog, and I am telling you that these are
the wings on which Henry Tile will fly away. I have a remarkable mind;
it thinks while others sleep. What is it thinking about? Everything! Oh,
what dreams I see, what a happy man I am!
_Laughs happily._
Excuse me, I pushed you.
FEKLUSHA
Never mind, Henry, that’s nothing.
HENRY
That’s impolite. Excuse me. Fools ask me, What do you do all day long,
you are always alone? Why, I haven’t enough days and nights for thinking!
Thinking! Thinking! They take me to see gay women, they take me as if I
were sick and needed a cure, and they ask me, Isn’t it fine, Henry Tile?
And I say to them, Very good! What a wonderful orgy!
_Laughs._
FEKLUSHA
_Also laughing_:
Are the women nice?
HENRY
You are foolish. As if I needed women! For a trifling sum I can be
immoral—how foolish! Listen, I am now thirty-four years old, and I may
live another thirty-four years—and what if I should be old, that doesn’t
matter. The Popes of Rome are made Popes only when they are old—that
doesn’t matter. And in America—or wherever I shall be, wherever there
will be the man who will emerge from the stupid skin of Henry Tile—in
America I will invest my million. Oh, I know how to handle money! I have
a plan, I have given much thought to it, I have considered everything,
and I know a dozen combinations which will bring me a hundred millions in
five years. Is that good—a hundred millions?
FEKLUSHA
What a question!
HENRY
No, Feklusha, that isn’t so good—but a thousand millions, but two
thousand millions—that is good! Then I could live! Then I could amuse
myself! On that I could have palaces, buy women, be the benefactor of
idiots, have a Henry Tile of my own who would love accuracy—then I could
amuse myself! I will amuse myself!
FEKLUSHA
No, I don’t want to. Leave me, Henry. My dear fellow! Why did you take me
by the hand? Leave me.
HENRY
You must believe me, my old friend! You must love me. I have a remarkable
mind.
FEKLUSHA
I do love you, I do love you!
HENRY
_Bending down towards him, softly_:
Silence! Do you know that I, Henry Tile, am a criminal? I _am_!
FEKLUSHA
Really? At last, thank God!
HENRY
You can think of money only? No, it isn’t _money_. It is women—it is
little children who are still lisping, “Henry, Henry!” It is the murder
of human beings, it is deception, it is betrayal, mockery, falsehood,
cruelty—and what else is there? What else is there that Henry Tile has
not yet tried?
FEKLUSHA
_Faintly_:
Leave me.
HENRY
We are going to have cognac soon—you like cognac? Or punch? My dear
Alexandrov, I will give you punch, yes, as much as you like.
FEKLUSHA
Again punch? I don’t want any.
_Rudely_:
When did you manage all this? You are lying, you haven’t enough money for
all that. I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense, that’s enough!
HENRY
_Laughing happily_:
I am preparing myself, I must know everything. You remember how they
taught us at school? I am preparing myself. I am painting pictures, I am
a famous painter. I have achieved everything!
FEKLUSHA
Leave me alone.
HENRY
Be silent, or I will throw you into the water! I have achieved
everything. They—these people—they know only the body of crime, but I,
Henry Tile, I have penetrated into its soul. Oh, how I know the soul of
murder!
FEKLUSHA
I’ll call a policeman.
HENRY
Keep quiet, you fool!
FEKLUSHA
_Loudly_:
Po——
_Henry closes his mouth. A light struggle, followed by a pause.
Only the frightened outcry of Feklusha and the heavy breathing
of Henry are heard._
HENRY
But I was only jesting. This is so foolish. I was jesting, don’t you
understand? You will not cry now, will you?
FEKLUSHA
No. I was scared.
HENRY
Of course, of course! You thought I was talking seriously, and you were
frightened. Don’t shiver like that, don’t shiver. You are a poor little
rabbit, while I am a wolf, isn’t that so?
_Laughs, trying to appear kind._
I am a wolf, am I not?
FEKLUSHA
I like you very much, Henry—you are my benefactor. Why should I cry?
_Sobs._
Leave me, I am chilled, I may catch a bad cold.
HENRY
Yes, yes, it is very damp and foggy, you may catch cold, my dear fellow.
Your health is very poor. You mustn’t shiver. Don’t—we will go soon.
Shall we go or will you wait a little? I’ll wait.
FEKLUSHA
I am going in a little while.
HENRY
Oh, what a foolish little beast! He is shivering! But we will warm him up
with hot punch, with very hot punch, and we will have some music. Do you
like music, Feklusha?
FEKLUSHA
I do. Some one is coming. Let my hand go.
HENRY
_Laughing_:
That is the King of the Forest, Feklusha. “The child, all shivering,
is clinging to its father.” Who’s coming? Who wants to scare my little
rabbit?
_Laughs._
That’s nothing: It’s a lady in a large hat. It’s a beautiful woman for a
song, and you will be a Don Juan to-night!
FEKLUSHA
No.
HENRY
Yes, yes. You said so yourself. Well, smile, smile—you are a splendid
fellow!
_A woman with a large hat and bent wet plumes emerges silently
from the fog._
HENRY
Good evening, beautiful lady. May I know why you are walking alone in
such bad weather?
_The woman looks at them silently._
HENRY
_Laughing_:
Don’t be silent, Feklusha, you must be a gallant cavalier. Ask her. You
are a Don Juan this evening.
FEKLUSHA
What shall I ask her? Aren’t you afraid to walk alone, mademoiselle?
HENRY
_Laughing_:
He says, aren’t you afraid to walk alone? Well? Now let us hear the
beautiful lady’s answer. Well?
_The woman is laughing and waving her hand._
WOMAN
Good evening, friends. Are you laughing at me or not? What are you
standing here for, at the canal? Were you waiting for me?
HENRY
She asks: Were we waiting for her? Well, Feklusha, answer. She is a very
nice lady.
FEKLUSHA
What shall I answer? You are so strange, Henry! Let’s take a cab, and
that’s all. What’s the use of answering?
HENRY
_Rejoicing_:
That’s it! There’s a brave fellow!
_Both laugh. The woman, after thinking awhile, also laughs._
WOMAN
Are you drunk? Why do you stand near the canal? I am chilled, I am going
home. What time is it?
FEKLUSHA
Happy people don’t watch the time. Henry, what did I say? Happy people
don’t watch the time!
_Laughs loudly; Henry also laughs, clapping him on the
shoulder._
WOMAN
If you are so happy, take me along with you. I am also happy. My friends
have nicknamed me “Happy Jennie.” I bring luck with me wherever I go.
They all praise me. Come, why are we standing here? The bird on my hat
is afraid of the rain!
FEKLUSHA
_Laughing_:
Happy people don’t watch the time? What? And what were you thinking of,
Jennie?
HENRY
_Approvingly_:
Yes, yes, Feklusha, you have let loose. But we must ask the beautiful
lady about her price.
WOMAN
What’s the sense of that? You are talking nonsense. Let us go, and that’s
all.
HENRY
Feklusha! It was Henry Tile who asked what is your price. He was afraid
the price would be too high.
WOMAN
Oh, not at all.
HENRY
_Laughing_:
Yes, he was afraid! But we are not afraid and we ask you to come along,
Happy Jennie. Now we are all happy.
FEKLUSHA
All! I like her. You take her. Jennie, do you like cognac?
HENRY
Of course, she is coming along with us, of course. And there will be
cognac, and hot punch. Come!
WOMAN
But where are you taking me? I am afraid to go to a strange place.
FEKLUSHA
We are kind people, Jennie—don’t be afraid. Henry, shall I take her arm?
Jennie, your arm! Oh, what a little hand!
HENRY
But you are a real Don Juan! Come. And I will be your protector. Go, my
dear children, I will follow.
_They go. Henry follows them._
WOMAN
Where are we going?
FEKLUSHA
Do you love me, Jennie? I am a kind man.
_The bank is deserted. Fog. Night._
_Curtain_
SCENE II: _The same night. When the curtain goes up after a
brief intermission, the audience sees the same unfinished room
in Henry’s apartment. The room is brightly lighted. On the
table are cognac and fruit._
_HENRY, FEKLUSHA and “HAPPY JENNIE” are seated at the table,
drinking. They have already drunk a great deal. The table is in
disorder. FEKLUSHA, intoxicated, is without a coat, in a soiled
shirt and torn vest. The woman’s waist is partly unfastened,
but she still wears her large hat with the wet plumes._
HENRY
Have another glass, Jennie. Please. And eat this pear.
WOMAN
_Merci_, I feel embarrassed. You are the host but you are not drinking
anything yourself!
HENRY
Oh, no. I am drinking, too. Please—Your health, “Happy Jennie!”
FEKLUSHA
I drink your health, too!
WOMAN
I’ll be drunk. Well, here’s to the health of the one who loves!
_They drink._
WOMAN
I’d like to have some lemon. How much do you pay for your apartment?
HENRY
Twelve hundred.
WOMAN
Including the porter?
HENRY
Oh, yes. Including the porter.
WOMAN
That isn’t expensive. And a nice neighborhood, too. Well—
_To Feklusha_:
What is it? Why do you pull me?
FEKLUSHA
Jennie, take off your hat!
HENRY
Feklusha, you are impolite to the lady, you should be attentive to her,
instead of pulling her. Fie!
FEKLUSHA
Let her take her hat off! Tell her. Jennie, take your hat off!
WOMAN
What do you want of my hat? Let it dry. It’ll dry better on my head.
You’re not going to buy me another one, anyway.
HENRY
And don’t pull her hair!
WOMAN
It didn’t hurt. We are having such a serious conversation here, and he
bothers me. That isn’t expensive, twelve hundred—not expensive at all.
But you should let some of the rooms. What’s the use of keeping them
vacant? They’re empty. Ah, you have filled my glass again, how quick you
are!
HENRY
Your health!
WOMAN
My health is all right. Now, really, the rooms are empty. And good rooms,
too. Anybody would take them—so many people need rooms, and here they
are idle. Put out a green sign in front of the house: “Two rooms to let.”
HENRY
And with windows on the sunny side—that is very important.
WOMAN
With windows facing the sun, why not? Write it out and paste it
downstairs, or the porter will do it. You wouldn’t have to bother. Do you
keep a cook, or do you have your meals at a restaurant?
HENRY
At a restaurant. You know, there is so much trouble when you have a cook.
WOMAN
Oh, yes, sometimes you get a cook who will give you a lot of trouble!
But, oh, you men, how little you know how to live! It’s funny to look at
you!
HENRY
Another drink!
WOMAN
_Merci._ Don’t you think it’s too much? I’d like some lemon.
_To Feklusha_:
Again? How annoying you are—what is it you want?
FEKLUSHA
You came up with me, not with him. Tell her, Henry!
_Henry and the woman laugh._
WOMAN
Of course with you, with you. Well, give me your lips. I’ll kiss
you—don’t be angry.
FEKLUSHA
I don’t want to be. You must love me, do you hear?
HENRY
He is jealous. Feklusha, are you jealous?
WOMAN
Jealous into the bargain, just think of it. Oh, you fussy little goat!
HENRY
He is a very jealous rabbit!
WOMAN
Oh, you foolish Feklusha! Look, even your friend is laughing at you, he
is thinking, how foolish you are, and your beard is like that of a goat.
Oh, you little goat!
_Strokes Feklusha by the beard; he laughs happily._
FEKLUSHA
Let go! Jennie!
WOMAN
No, I won’t. Are you going to be jealous? Are you going to be jealous?
You little rabbit. I was jesting a little. Now I can have another drink.
Have a drink, Feklusha!
HENRY
She loves you.
WOMAN
Of course, I love him, he is so funny. Well, you gaping fool, why do you
spill the drink on the tablecloth? You’re spilling it on the cloth, and
it’ll have to be washed. Be careful.
_To Henry_:
We’ve spilled so much, excuse us!
HENRY
Never mind, that doesn’t matter. Have this pear, please. Why don’t you
have some fruit? Feklusha, have some.
FEKLUSHA
I am eating. He is very kindhearted, Jennie. He is very kindhearted,
isn’t he?
WOMAN
He is the host, but he doesn’t touch anything himself.
HENRY
Oh, no!
FEKLUSHA
I love you very much, Henry. I love him very much, Jennie—he is
kindhearted. I know him well. He calls me “Alexandrov”—and I come rushing
to him. You can’t get away from him—Oh, no!
WOMAN
Oh, I am tired sitting up this way. May I sit on the couch? It’s softer
there.
FEKLUSHA
I’ll sit down, too.
HENRY
Of course, please. Alexandrov, why don’t you help the lady?
WOMAN
_Laughing, intoxicated_:
Or I am going to wash the dishes right away. I am so foolish. Others
do all sorts of things, but when I have had too much to drink, I start
washing plates, cleaning knives and forks! It’s very funny! I wash a
little, but I smash a heap of dishes.
HENRY
If that will give you pleasure——
WOMAN
Oh, no. I am not drunk yet. Ah, that’s good.
_Sits down on the couch._
And you, little rabbit, sit down, and I am going to tell you a little
story. Once upon a time there was a little rabbit—his ears were long—Oh,
so long!
_She tickles Feklusha’s hand, he laughs and withdraws his hand.
Henry looks at them from the distance. He is silent, as though
not there at all._
FEKLUSHA
Do you love me, Jennie?
WOMAN
I love you, I love you, of course I love you! Once upon a time there was
a little rabbit.
FEKLUSHA
Do you feel chilly?
WOMAN
I feel warm now—I was chilly before. Wait, I’ll take my hat off. I’m
tired of it—to the devil with it! Look at the plumes! My dear, I had
been pacing the sidewalks ever since five o’clock—that’s enough to chill
anybody.
FEKLUSHA
_Laughs._
And I have five children!
WOMAN
_Laughing_:
Oh, you rabbit! What do you want so many children for? I had one, and
lost it—and you have five! Girls?
FEKLUSHA
Three girls, and one little boy died—Sasha. How many is that altogether?
WOMAN
Well, of course, girls. Just think of it! I had a little boy, a little
rascal.
FEKLUSHA
Now, let us count!
WOMAN
What’s the use of counting? You are a queer fellow. What an accountant
you are—counting his children on his fingers! Stop it!
FEKLUSHA
You’re wrong, Jennie. It’s always best to count, or you may forget. Wait,
I’ll ask him. Henry, how many children have I, eh?
_Henry maintains silence, his eyes closed._
WOMAN
I guess he is dozing, be quiet! Let him sleep a little.
FEKLUSHA
Aren’t you afraid of him?
WOMAN
Why should I be afraid of him? You are impolite to me, but he is very
polite. I like him very much. Be quiet, let him sleep.
FEKLUSHA
He knows how to count! He has a million!
WOMAN
Really?
FEKLUSHA
_Laughs._
I am doing it purposely. I am sly, too. He thought I was away, but I—he
is wise, but at the same time he’s a fool, a big fool.
WOMAN
He is wiser than you. Are you wise? Let me see.
FEKLUSHA
I fooled him.
_Laughs._
He thought I was away, but I was standing beneath his window every night.
I watched all his tracks. He can’t run away from me—Oh, no!
WOMAN
Don’t shout!
FEKLUSHA
I am not shouting. “Alexandrov!” You’ll find out the kind of man
Alexandrov is! I’ll make you wince! I can cry, and I can dance, if I want
to—that’s the kind of man I am. And if I want to, I can kill myself, and
then, go and look for Alexandrov! “Alexandrov!”
WOMAN
You are just talking downright nonsense.
FEKLUSHA
It isn’t nonsense. You have no right to say that to me. I’ll hit you on
the jaw.
WOMAN
What an angry rabbit you are!
FEKLUSHA
No, I am not a rabbit. I am a man. It was he who made me a rabbit, but I
am a man. I have no ability, but I am a man. I have a heart beating here,
I believe in God, but he doesn’t. What right has he?
_Crying_:
I can’t bear it any more!
WOMAN
Now, now! What is it you can’t bear?
FEKLUSHA
_Weeping_:
I can’t bear it any more!
WOMAN
Stop it, I am sick of it. Or I’ll fall asleep, do you hear?
FEKLUSHA
Kiss me.
WOMAN
First he cries, then he wants me to kiss him. There!
FEKLUSHA
I don’t want you to kiss me. Your nose is crooked. Why did you come here
with a crooked nose? Get out!
WOMAN
Get out yourself! Just think of him! You didn’t invite me here. Get out
yourself! You nasty little rabbit!
FEKLUSHA
Jennie!
HENRY
_Loudly_:
Alexandrov! Do you want some more cognac? Now, now—no fighting. Don’t
raise your hand!
FEKLUSHA
I am not fighting. It is she.
HENRY
You had a little quarrel? That’s nothing. That’ll pass. Have some cognac,
Happy Jennie.
FEKLUSHA
_Laughs._
Her nose is crooked, Henry. The devil brought her to us!
WOMAN
And who brought you?
_Puts on her hat angrily._
HENRY
Oh, aren’t you ashamed, Alexandrov? You are offending our guest! That
isn’t right. What sort of a man are you?
FEKLUSHA
_Laughs._
The devil brought her here.
HENRY
Then you should be grateful to him, and not angry. If the devil had
brought me such a woman, I would have said to him, Thank you! And I would
have clasped his hairy, honest hand!
_Laughs._
Oh, yes, that would be an honest hand! Or do you think that the devil
cannot have an honest hand? What do you think, Jennie?
WOMAN
There are all kinds of devils, just as there are all kinds of people.
HENRY
_Solemnly_:
Do you hear, Alexandrov, you fool? Drink, liven up your dull brain!
Drink, Jennie, drink some more—drink faster! Soon the cock will crow.
My night is passing, and I haven’t had a single one of my dreams. Drink
faster. Swallow the fire! Here I, Henry Tile, am swallowing fire! Look!
One, two, three!
_Drinks a large glass of cognac._
FEKLUSHA
I too! Look, Henry! I too!
_Empties his glass, coughs; the woman, laughing, taps him on
the shoulder._
WOMAN
So will I!
HENRY
He too! All of us! Drink faster, I beg you, my dear guests, I beg you:
drink faster! The night is passing rapidly, but we must be faster than
the night. Let us rush like wild horses. Do you know how to neigh like a
horse, Feklusha?
FEKLUSHA
I do. What time is it? I must go to work to-morrow.
HENRY
What work? You are out of your mind. What work are you talking about?
Have you forgotten, my old friend, have you forgotten that you are
working for me?
FEKLUSHA
I am done for!
_Drinks._
Jennie, drink!
WOMAN
I’m drinking.
_Laughs._
You’re driving us fast.
_They drink, loudly clanking their glasses._
HENRY
Jennie, kiss Feklusha. Feklusha, kiss Jennie.
WOMAN
Drinking and kissing!
HENRY
Quick. I want to see how a man kisses the woman he loves. Just think of
it, I have never seen it. Well?
FEKLUSHA
Well?
WOMAN
_Laughing._
There!
_They kiss._
HENRY
More—more—more passionately! Ah! That’s the way!
WOMAN
_Laughing_:
What a queer fellow—he’s never seen it before. Now, my little rabbit, we
are like husband and wife—we kissed each other three times.
FEKLUSHA
I love you.
HENRY
Good! Oh, I know something else. We are all going to laugh soon. Wait.
I’ll be back in a minute—just a minute!
_Goes to his bedroom quickly._
WOMAN
I am drunk, my dear little rabbit—the whole room is dancing before my
eyes.
_Laughs._
What is he up to now—the flatterer?
FEKLUSHA
Kiss me some more. Everything seems to be dancing. It’s so funny!
WOMAN
That’ll do. Let me rather stroke your head now. What thin hair the little
rabbit has—the crows seem to have pulled them out. Have the crows pulled
out your hair, little rabbit?
FEKLUSHA
The crows.
_Henry Tile enters, with changed make-up, and changed walk. He
has on a light wig, baldheaded, and red beard. His cheeks are
very red. He stops and looks silently at the frightened woman
and at Feklusha._
WOMAN
Who is that? Listen!
FEKLUSHA
Look here, there’s nobody here! Who’s that? Why are you staring at us
like that?
_Calls, frightened_:
Henry, somebody is here!
_Henry laughs triumphantly._
HENRY
_Distorting his words_:
Permit me to ask you: Is Henry Tile at home or has he fled already? I am
an Englishman—Sir Edward Thomson. I am red-headed.
FEKLUSHA
Is it possible? Henry! By God, I have sobered up! I was wondering who it
was—I was scared to death. Is it possible?
_Laughs. Henry and the woman also laugh._
HENRY
You didn’t recognize me?
FEKLUSHA
How could I? And your figure, even the figure—and that red beard!
_Laughs._
WOMAN
And baldheaded. But why baldheaded?
HENRY
Look!
_He walks across the room with a changed gait, imitating an
Englishman._
FEKLUSHA
Wonderful, quite a different man. I don’t understand a thing! I am out of
my mind. Is that you, Henry?
HENRY
I. I can change my walk, I can change my voice, and everything else.
Every night I put on this costume, I look at myself in the mirror, and I
walk up and down this room alone. I am practicing. Do you understand me
now, you fool?
FEKLUSHA
That’s what I call wonderful. That’s really wonderful. Jennie, do you
see? It isn’t enough to kiss his hand—that’s what I say.
HENRY
_Changing his voice_:
Don’t you want some music, Mr. Alexandrov, and you, my beautiful lady? I
am a musician, and at your service.
FEKLUSHA
I do, please, let us have it. Jennie, music!
HENRY
I am a famous musician. Listen, Feklusha, I will play for you “The Waltz
of the Dogs.” Listen!
_He sits down with his usual affected manner, emphasizing it,
and plays “The Waltz of the Dogs,” explaining as he plays_:
Little dogs are dancing. Nice little dogs. Ti—ta—ta!
FEKLUSHA
Little dogs—well, well!
HENRY
This way. This way. They pull them by a string—they hold out bits of
sugar—ta-ta-ti-ti-. And then the little dogs lift their feet—this
way—this way—and they dance—the foolish little dogs. This way, this way!
FEKLUSHA
More! Please, play it again!
WOMAN
More! More!
HENRY
No. That’s enough.
_He walks away from the piano quickly; he stares at the woman
furiously, and then at Feklusha, and he stamps his foot._
Who am I? Oh you fools! The best musicians in the world will play for me,
and I will step with my foot—I will crush their stupid violin with my
foot, and will say “Enough!” I will stand with my feet upon your stupid
music! Enough! The most beautiful of women will fall at my feet and kiss
the mud of my soles, and I will stand with my foot upon her beautiful
naked breast and say, Enough! And she will be crushed while still kissing
with dying lips. Enough! I will cry! Enough, you foolish, trivial,
unworthy—creature!
_He bangs the piano with great force._
WOMAN
Oh, don’t! Better play some more.
FEKLUSHA
Don’t, Henry. I am afraid! You’d better play—about the little dogs. Let
the little dogs dance again.
HENRY
The little dogs?
FEKLUSHA
Yes.
_Laughs happily._
How they pull them by the string, and they lift their little feet, their
little feet!
_Raises his feet._
HENRY
Their little feet?
FEKLUSHA
Yes. Please. I like it.
HENRY
Yes, yes.
_Laughs._
He likes it, he likes it. Very well, then, the little dogs.
WOMAN AND FEKLUSHA
_Begging_:
The little dogs?...
HENRY
_Sitting down at the piano; with changed voice._
Listen! I am a famous musician, and here I am playing for you the famous
“Waltz of the Dogs.” Dance.
_He plays_ “The Waltz of the Dogs.” _Feklusha, raising his
hands, and imitating a dog dancing, turns around easily on his
toes. His face is serious and solemn. The woman joins him.
Raising her hands, she also dances turning around easily, as in
a dream. Her face, too, is serious and attentive._
_Turning around his red head and red cheeks, showing his white
teeth, Henry looks back at them, laughing and playing._
_Curtain_
ACT IV
_The same scene. Night. ELIZABETH, CARL and FEKLUSHA are in the
room._
ELIZABETH
I should like to see the other rooms. Would it be right? I don’t know.
CARL
Why not? Look around, if it gives you pleasure. You needn’t pay any
attention to Feklusha. We are friends now. But how fat I am getting,
Liza—have you noticed it?
ELIZABETH
Yes.
CARL
It’s almost indecent. I gained another pound last week, in spite of my
exercise and horseback riding. I’ll have to get a masseur. Mr. Feklusha,
what do you do in order to be so thin? You will soon look like an Indian
fakir.
FEKLUSHA
What? Yes. I have grown very thin.
CARL
How much do you weigh?
FEKLUSHA
What? I don’t know, I have never weighed myself.
CARL
Liza, don’t you think our friend Feklusha looks like a lunatic who has
escaped from an asylum? But why don’t you look at the other rooms, Liza?
Go. We will chat here. What are you looking at?
ELIZABETH
Carl, is it possible that eighteen months have passed since we were here?
Look—the same music.
CARL
Yes, Henry is conservative. I suppose eighteen months have passed—I don’t
know. But Liza, I don’t understand the charms of these heartrending
recollections. In this respect I am a European. The Russians don’t live,
they only remember something—and whatever they say or whatever they
write, is always like a recollection.
ELIZABETH
And Henry?
CARL
Henry? I must say that I hardly know my brother Henry. Still, I
am convinced that if he came in now, he would drive both of us
out—notwithstanding the charms of your recollections. Make haste, my dear.
FEKLUSHA
He won’t be here so soon. I know his habits.
CARL
So much the better. I wouldn’t like to quarrel with Henry.
ELIZABETH
My husband is dead, and my child is dead, but here nothing has changed.
There will be the head of Beethoven—when is it going to be there? Carl, I
am going into the other rooms. I’ll be back soon.
CARL
Go. The switch is near the door, you’ll find it easily. Mr. Feklusha, sit
down near me.
_Exit Elizabeth. Feklusha sits down near Carl._
CARL
Well, Mr. Feklusha? Why do you smell of sour beer? You always think up
something new. You look either sick or drunk. Why do you stare at me
this way? Well?
FEKLUSHA
It’s done.
CARL
What’s done?
FEKLUSHA
He’s insured. For a hundred thousand—as agreed.
CARL
_Rising._
Really? Where is the policy? Has he the policy?
FEKLUSHA
The policy will soon be here. They promised to have it in a few days. I
am telling you the truth.
CARL
Yes?
_Walks._
CARL
No! No. You are lying, Mr. Feklusha, you are lying, I can see it! You are
a perfectly unbearable fool—why do you lie to me? A queer man who doesn’t
understand his own advantage—and lies into the bargain. Or are you sorry
to lose the cognac you are drinking with Henry? But you have already
drunk yourself sick—you need a hospital now—your eyes are like those of a
mad dog. We, the Tiles, we can drink much. We come of strong stock, but I
wouldn’t advise you to drink much more!
FEKLUSHA
I haven’t touched a drink in a month now. Enough!
CARL
That sounds pretty strong for Feklusha, but if that’s the case, why are
your eyes so half-witted? And what is it you like so much about Henry? He
treats you like a scamp. Or is it that you are sorry for him, that you
have human feelings?
FEKLUSHA
Yes, I am sorry for him. Why shouldn’t I feel sorry for him?
CARL
Fie! Drop it! It’s disgusting to hear you talk! Besides, I’ll tell you
frankly—I know something about medicine, and I tell you that in a year
from now no insurance company will take a risk on Henry. There are
certain symptoms, you understand, which I don’t like at all—I am afraid
for him.
FEKLUSHA
In a week—or two—the policy will be here.
CARL
Do you want me to believe that?
FEKLUSHA
It will be here.
CARL
I want you to know that I am not particularly interested. I live
quite well now, and soon—meanwhile it is a secret—I am going to marry
Elizabeth. And do you know how much money she has? Well. I suppose you
haven’t prepared that note either—it’s impossible to have any dealings
with you.
FEKLUSHA
I have prepared it. Here it is.
CARL
_Reading_:
“I ask that no one be blamed for my death. I leave no will. Give my
servant Ivan five hundred rubles. Henry Tile.” So. Was that your idea—the
five hundred for Ivan?
FEKLUSHA
Yes.
CARL
You are a wonderful criminal, Feklusha. I take back everything unpleasant
I have ever said to you. I know Henry’s handwriting. This is a
masterpiece. Most remarkable! Is that his paper, too?
FEKLUSHA
Yes, from his desk. Give it back to me.
CARL
How old are you—forty? I must tell you that you have been forty years a
blockhead! To bury such a talent in the ground! It’s inexcusably stupid!
With such a genius for forging handwritings you could have made a fortune
long ago. It’s stupid!
FEKLUSHA
Let me have the note.
CARL
_Putting the note away in his pocketbook._
Oh, no, you don’t get that! Show me the policy, then you’ll get your
masterpiece—then it will be in safe hands. _Comprenez_, Mr. Feklusha?
FEKLUSHA
_Hesitating_:
Very well. You are a great criminal yourself, Carl.
CARL
_Indifferently_:
So-so. I must live somehow—money does not lie in the streets. Give me a
million, then you may demand honesty of me. But to ride in a cab, while
others are driving about in automobiles—thank you. But there is one thing
of which you must beware—that’s greed! That’s what kills people like us.
Here is Liza. Well, how is it, Lizette, have you shed tears there?
ELIZABETH
Carl, it is terrible.
CARL
What is it, Lizette? Ghosts?
ELIZABETH
Don’t laugh. One of the rooms is only partly covered with wall paper.
Dust, lime, spiderwebs—what room is that? I forget what he told me that
time—what is that terrible room?
CARL
I don’t know. Henry has so many absurd fantastic ideas. I think it’s the
nursery.
_Laughs._
For your unborn children, Lizette!
FEKLUSHA
Yes, the nursery. In his excitement at that time, Henry ordered them not
to touch the room—I suppose it has been neglected since then.
ELIZABETH
Go out, Carl, and ask Alexandrov to go out with you for awhile. I want to
stay here alone. Do you mind?
CARL
Not at all. Let us go out, Feklusha, and chat. You are fascinating like a
bride this evening—I am really fond of you. Call us, Liza.
_They go out. Elizabeth remains alone, holding an embroidered
handkerchief. She wears large diamond earrings._
ELIZABETH
How strange! Three years have passed. My husband and my child are dead
and buried, and here everything is the same as it was—and the apartment
is waiting for me. Who am I? Liza. I have come purposely from Moscow. I
came here before—I came to Henry. He was not at home, and I waited. Then
I could come in and wait. Henry, I am waiting for you!
_Pause._
Henry, I am waiting for you.
_Pause. Elizabeth weeps._
I love you, Henry! I am happy to kiss the table at which you sit, to kiss
the floor on which you walk, to kiss the room in which I did not want
to live. I? I don’t know. Who else if not I? I love you, Henry. I swear
by the Almighty God, I love you, Henry, and I never loved anyone but
you, and I never called anyone but you! You are strong, and you do not
forgive. You drove me out when I knocked at your door. Go, you said. Go,
unworthy Elizabeth—you said, and shut the door. And I went away. I love
you, Henry.
_Weeps._
Why are you so sad, if you do not love me, Henry? Yesterday you were
walking along the bank of the canal, you thought you were alone, but I
was riding in a carriage and looking at you from the window. You were so
sad! And I fell in love with you all over again, like a little girl—you
thought you were alone—you walked sadly and saw no one. Perhaps you
were even crying, Henry? Perhaps you were also thinking of the unborn
children? Oh, what terrible words—unborn children! Who were not born? Who
did not see the light? Who were expected here and who failed to come? Who
were not born? Who failed to come? Henry! Henry!
_Pause._
God, make it so that my soul shall remain here, that it shall turn into
the air that would embrace him! He will come home sad—and suddenly he
will feel a certain warmth, he will smile and say: “Why is it so nice in
this room? How nice! Who is kissing me? Is that you, Liza? Is that you,
Liza?”
_Weeps._
Your mother, who died long ago and cannot curse me, because she died
long ago—she taught you to play; you were then a little boy and she
moved your little fingers—you had such tiny fingers then. Afterward,
you played for me—I was sitting here, and you were playing, and you
wanted me to laugh, but I suddenly felt sad and terrified. I suddenly
commenced to hate you and your apartment. I commenced to hate your
mother—I felt sad and terrified! I did not understand anything at the
time, and I went to Moscow. But now I know. You were playing about the
unborn children—your laughter was sad. Henry, why did you play for me?
Who were not born? Who did not see the light? For whom were they waiting
here—waiting—waiting—and who failed to come? Henry!
_Weeps._
I love you, Henry!
_Weeps. Kneels and lowers her head on the keys of the piano.
Then rises, adjusts her hair and wipes her forehead as though
driving something away. Calls_:
Carl!
_Enter FEKLUSHA and CARL._
CARL
Well, shall we go home? It’s time. The devil knows what it is, Liza. I
have just been boasting to Feklusha about my health—and suddenly I feel a
most annoying palpitation of the heart! Do you think it’s heart trouble?
ELIZABETH
I don’t think so. Let’s go. Good night, Alexandrov.
CARL
I don’t think it’s heart trouble, but it’s dreadfully disagreeable.
Well, to the devil with everything, I must start my massage treatment
to-morrow! Good-by, Feklusha, and please don’t disturb me the next few
days. I am going to rest—come in to see me in about a week. Or rather I
will write you when to come.
ELIZABETH
Come, let us go, Carl!
CARL
Wait a minute. I have waited for two hours at a time for you, so you may
wait for me a minute. Remember, Alexandrov, I will write you when to
come. But see that everything is ready, understand? It is high time for
you to stop being such a fool—you have children. Well, let us go. I hope
we won’t meet Henry now. The devil take your fancies, Liza!...
_They go out._
FEKLUSHA
_Says to Carl in the corridor_:
The door shuts itself.
CARL’S _Voice_
I know. Good-by.
FEKLUSHA
Good-by.
_Feklusha remains alone. He sits down at the table, takes out
of his pocket an envelope and a carefully folded sheet of
paper; reads_:
“I ask that no one be blamed for my death. I leave no will. Give my
servant Ivan five hundred rubles. Henry Tile.” So. Very well. He thinks
that I prepared one note, but I made two—the fool Karlusha. He is greedy,
but foolish. And he didn’t see that his note didn’t have the date, while
no one would write a note like that without dating it—foolish Carl! And
the _r_ in the other note is different from Henry’s _r_—he didn’t notice
that either in his greed. Such fools get caught.
_Goes over to the mirror, takes out a comb, combs his hair._
They’re coming out! I suppose it’s consumption—I feel cold and I
perspire—but I’ll show you my consumption!
_He walks up and down the room, examining things with contempt._
I’ll show you!
_He tries to open the locked drawer in the table, looks over
papers, and pushes them aside with contempt._
Order! Scoundrels! I’ll show you order!
_Sits down at the table and shakes his hands._
It would be fine to put a bomb under the Nicholas Bridge and blow it to
pieces—so that all would fly to hell. Yes. And I could put a bomb under
the whole city, a bomb of tens of thousands of pounds—then I would also
be blown to the devil. No, why should I? A wire could be stretched as
far as Shuvalovo and a button placed somewhere on a tree, in the woods—I
could press it once—and they would all be blown to hell! I think I’ll
wind up in a lunatic asylum—I was turning round and round, and now I
can’t disentangle myself. Oh, fiddlesticks!
_Thoughtfully_:
They’ll beat me there. They say they beat people there—they break their
ribs—that’s unpleasant. And the food, they say, is poor there—the
lunatics don’t understand, but as soon as one of them complains, they
break his ribs. They say to him, don’t lie! The lunatic has no rights
whatever, that is very unjust. Of course a lunatic may be quiet, then no
one will touch him. The wardens like the quiet lunatics. I suppose they
also suffer a great deal. Oh, yes! Of course—quietly.
_Rises and walks ever faster._
It’s easy for you to say, quietly. Yes. It’s easy for you to say it, but
for me, it’s dreadful—very dreadful.
_He turns around the room senselessly; muttering indistinctly,
without noticing that Henry Tile has entered._
HENRY
Good evening, Feklusha.
FEKLUSHA
What? What?
HENRY
I say: good evening. Why are you running round like that?
FEKLUSHA
I? Nothing. Good evening, Henry.
HENRY
You were muttering. Are you ill?
FEKLUSHA
_Laughs._
Was I? There was no one to talk to, so I was talking to myself. I have
found myself a comrade just as wise as I am.
HENRY
What were you talking about?
FEKLUSHA
My nonsense is of no interest to anybody. I was just talking about
domestic affairs. Is it raining?
HENRY
Yes, it’s raining.
_Sits down, fatigued._
FEKLUSHA
Henry, Ivan has gone out. He said you sent him away for the evening.
HENRY
Yes, I sent him away. Sit down, please, and keep quiet.
_Silence._
FEKLUSHA
What is it, Henry? Why do you look so pale—are you ill? Perhaps you ought
to see the doctor.
HENRY
No. I am well. I suppose I am tired—I had to talk a great deal at the
conference to-day—I had to discuss business. I argued with the fools and
I am tired. Are you going to stay long to-night?
FEKLUSHA
No. Just a minute. I am going soon.
_Pause._
HENRY
What a pity I have no fireplace. I thought of everything, but forgot
about a fireplace. It’s true, we have steam heat. Well?
FEKLUSHA
Henry! There has been a change in your plans. Even if you swear to me!
HENRY
Yes? Wait. What’s this odor of perfume? Yes, I can smell it. Have you
commenced to use perfume?
FEKLUSHA
You are inventing now! I can’t smell any perfume here.
HENRY
Yes, there is. But that isn’t important. What did you want to say to me?
Tell me.
FEKLUSHA
I have told you. There has been a change in your plans. Tell me the
truth, Henry, I will kneel before you. I haven’t been in church in five
years, but I will go to church now and pray for you. Tell me the truth!
HENRY
You are fond of kneeling. What truth? I am tired to-night.
FEKLUSHA
Why, my dear fellow! We have been friends—remember, when we were small,
when we were at school together. Tell me! Spare my life, I can’t endure
it any longer!
_Weeps._
HENRY
You are also crying? Strange. For some reason I see so many tears to-day.
I was at the station this afternoon.
FEKLUSHA
_Sighing, wiping his eyes with a soiled handkerchief_,
What were you doing at the station?
HENRY
I was watching the trains. No, I was sending off a letter. And there I
saw an old woman in a shawl, walking on the platform—she was alone—and
she was crying. Strange!
_Thoughtfully._
FEKLUSHA
People rarely cry in the street. Only when they are drunk or when they go
to a relative’s funeral. Henry, listen to me—or I am going to cry again!
HENRY
Really? Don’t. No, there is no change in my plan. And beginning to-morrow
you will have rest—I am leaving to-morrow.
FEKLUSHA
_Reddening_:
To-morrow? By what route?
HENRY
Tss! It is hard for me at this moment to talk to you, my old comrade, but
come in to-morrow and you will know everything.
_Smiling_:
But don’t try to run after me—you’ll not overtake me!
FEKLUSHA
Why do you say that?
HENRY
Yes, yes, you are a sly little beast!
FEKLUSHA
A fool is not helped even by his slyness—he will only fool himself. Shall
I come in early—before going to the office?
HENRY
You may come in early. Now go home and sleep peacefully, Feklusha, my old
comrade. Are your children well?
FEKLUSHA
I suppose they are well. Why have you stopped drinking cognac? Henry,
your face seems to have grown darker.
HENRY
I don’t feel like drinking. Go.
FEKLUSHA
To-day is just a month since we had our last drink of cognac. Remember?
Well, I am going, I won’t disturb you.
_Quietly_:
Have you put the money away in a safe place?
HENRY
Ssh! Keep quiet. Good night, Feklusha, go. Have you rubbers on? It’s
raining hard. Good-by, till to-morrow.
FEKLUSHA
If it’s till to-morrow, it’s not good-by, but _au revoir_. _Au revoir_,
Henry. Good night. And I tell you, you are doing well to leave this
apartment! I never said anything before, but now I may tell you: Leave it
as soon as you can! If one should stay here alone for one hour, he’d lose
his mind, by God!
HENRY
Yes, I am leaving it. Good-by.
FEKLUSHA
Good night. May I say another word? I understand everybody and I can
tell people by their faces. I can tell their inclinations, but here I am
looking at you. You are very stern!
_Softly_:
And if I didn’t know your thoughts——
HENRY
Ssh!
FEKLUSHA
_With sudden fury_:
Don’t hiss to me! There are no strangers here! What do you mean? I can
hiss, too.
_Pause._
Excuse me, Henry!
_Goes._
HENRY
The door shuts itself.
FEKLUSHA
I know, Henry.
_Goes. Henry looks after him, suddenly stops._
HENRY
Wait. It’s raining hard. Here’s money for a cab. Take it.
FEKLUSHA
Thank you. Why so much? You embarrass me, really.
HENRY
Never mind. Go.
_Feklusha stops at the door, looks at his hand._
FEKLUSHA
Henry! I am looking at my hand and I wonder. You gave me twenty-five
rubles, but why am I not rejoicing? Of course, it isn’t such a large sum,
but if this happened before, I would have felt happy. And now, I feel—or
does it seem so to me after my tears?—I feel as if I ought to get more
for my tears. Or is it figured out right?
_Without raising his eyes_:
Excuse me.
_Exit. Door is heard closing. Henry is alone. He looks at the
watch._
HENRY
It’s eleven. I must take off my collar.
_He takes off his collar, his cuffs, his coat, and places them
carefully on the armchair. He walks up and down the room
heavily and slowly. He tries to wipe the window pane, behind
which the rain is heard._
Yes. It’s eleven o’clock now, and the sun rises at about seven. How many
more hours of darkness? Many—never mind the exact number, Henry! Henry
Tile, say simply, many! Many hours, much darkness! I have never given
any thought to what people do when they end their life, when they kill
themselves, and now I feel very strange, I don’t know what to do. Perhaps
it is necessary to sit at the table, and I am walking? I must sit down.
_He sits down, but soon gets up and walks again._
No, nonsense! Suicides don’t think whether they should walk or sit. I
suppose they walk around. But where does this odor of perfume come from?
Such sweet, strange, sad perfume. Women who are young and who want love,
use such perfume. But their hearts are sad—sad perfume! Sad women, and
Elizabeth—now I don’t remember her, but there was a time when I loved
her—there was something—there was sadness. My God! Why do I say My God?
My God! I don’t know anything, I don’t remember anything, I don’t love
anybody! A murderer? A thief who has stolen a million? Henry Tile who
loved accuracy? I don’t know. There was everything—and there was nothing.
Why did I strike the table with my fists, why did I cry? Why did Henry
Tile write figures, columns of figures, an endless caravan in an endless
desert? There was everything—and there was nothing. There was a strange
man who tossed about, who shouted, who donned a red wig like a clown,
who swallowed fire. And there was another strange man who worked in the
bank, who dismissed clerks, who looked stern and who was known as Henry
Tile. What nonsense—“Henry Tile!” And who will lie in a coffin—Henry
Tile or the other one? And where shall I be? Here I have already thought
about the coffin—white, with tassels. I am terrified. Is it possible
that all is ended? I am terrified. Has _this_ really come? I have lived
and lived—and suddenly this. _This!_ How horrible! Horrible! _This!_ No!
No! I am not afraid. I am not afraid. Oh, beware of deception, beware of
deception, beware of deception! And so, the coffin, white, with tassels,
and some one is in it. Yes, of course. It is dreadful to Henry Tile with
his figures, it is dreadful to that other one who wanted to steal, to
kill some one, to violate, who put on the stupid red wig of a rogue. But
where am I? My God, great wisdom and love, answer me: Where was I with
my great, sad and lonely soul? I am no more. There is no one. There is
nothing. There is only horror—and _this_.—_This._ Henry, Henry, my dear,
be calm; you knew how to strike the table with your fist, now you must be
calm. Yes. Good. Yes. I am cold. No, I am not cold, but it is cold here.
Why did I take off my coat? I must put it on again. These are the kind of
cuffs Henry Tile used to wear.
_Forgets to put on the coat._
But this is unbearable. These empty rooms have such a terrible effect on
me—as though there was a murderer there. A murderer is hiding in every
room and waiting. It would be well to turn on the lights there, but I am
afraid to go in. But here I can do it. Oh, here I can do it.
_He turns on some more lights._
Now it is light. But what a queer strange room. And there is absolutely
no one here. I smell the odor of perfume again—who has perfume here? Have
the murderers perfume here? May the devil take the one who invented it. I
must go into the bedroom.
_Opens the drawer of the table, takes out a revolver and
examines it in a businesslike manner, puts it on the table._
I must shoot myself where I sleep. I must cover myself over my head with
the quilt, as though I were going to sleep; then I won’t notice it. Yes.
I must do something else—what? I have forgotten everything. What? Oh,
yes. I must write a note. Paper, ink, ink? No! I don’t need any notes.
That’s nonsense. There was everything—and there was nothing, and _this_.
_This._ I must go into the bedroom. What have I forgotten? My God, why do
I say, My God? My God, what have I forgotten? What?
_He sits down at the piano._
Now I will play “The Waltz of the Dogs.” Listen, Henry Tile, I will play
for you for the last time my favorite “Waltz of the Dogs.” My mother
taught me to play it this way.
_He plays, at first loudly, then ever more softly. Towards the
end, he breaks off a musical phrase, his head falls on the
piano, and he sobs softly. Then he closes the piano silently
and carefully, takes the revolver and goes to the bedroom. He
stops, and says impatiently_:
What else? Oh, what else?
_He looks around the room perplexedly._
I must—I must—what must I? I must shut off the light, yes, I must do it.
It will burn all night. Let it burn.
_He goes into the bedroom. A moment of silence. He soon comes
out of the bedroom, without a vest—he looks for something
silently, as if he has either forgotten something, or could not
find it. He is looking for something and not finding it, having
stopped thinking of what he was looking for, he goes to the
bedroom quickly._
_The room is empty for a while. A dull shot is heard._
_Curtain_
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