SASHA (laughs out loud). And what’d she do?
OSIP. “Well, now,” says she, “clear off! Wash yourself more often,” says she, “and don’t forget your fingernails!” So away I went.
SASHA. She’s bold as brass! (Gives Osip a plate of cabbage soup.) Here, eat this! Sit somewhere!
OSIP. I’m no great lord, so I’ll stand . . . Thank you very much for your loving kindness, Aleksandra Ivanovna! I’ll pay you back for your caring one of these days . . .
SASHA. Take off your cap . . . You shouldn’t eat with your cap on. And say grace when you eat!
OSIP (takes off his cap). It’s a long time since I observed them religious things . . . (Eats.) And ever since then it’s like I been off my head . . . Would you believe it? I don’t eat, don’t sleep . . . She’s always there before my eyes . . . Used to be I’d close my eyes, and there she stands . . . Such tenderness came over me that I like to strung myself up! With mooning over her I almost did drown myself, I wanted to shoot the General . . . And when she became a widow, I began running all sorts of errands . . . I shot partridges for her, snared quail, painted her gazebo all the colors of the rainbow . . . Once I even brought her a live wolf . . . Did her all sorts of pleasures . . . Used to be, she’d give an order, I’d carry it out . . . If she’d ordered me to eat my head, I’d eat my head . . . Tender feelings . . . You can’t do nothing about ‘em . . .
SASHA. Yes . . . When I fell in love with Mikhail Vasilich and still didn’t know that he loved me, I mooned about horribly too . . . Many’s the time I prayed God for death, sinner that I am . . .
OSIP. There you see, ma’am . . . Feelings like that . . . (Drinks from the plate.) Might there be any more of that soup? (Hands back the plate.)
SASHA (exits and half a minute later reappears in the window with a small saucepan). There’s no soup, but would you like some potatoes? Fried in goose fat . . .
OSIP. Merci. . . (Takes the saucepan and eats.) Something awful the way I put that soup away! And so I’d walk up and down, up and down, like a crazy man . . . I mean ‘cause of what I was saying, Aleksandra Ivanovna . . . I’d walk up and down, up and down . . . Last year after Holy Week561 bring her a hare . . . “Here if you please,” says I, “your excellency . . . Brought you this cross-eyed little critter!” She took it in her hands, stroked it and asks me: “Is it true what folks are saying, Osip, that you’re a robber?” — “The Gospel truth,” says I. “Folks don’t say things like that just to hear theirselves talk . . .” I went and told her everything . . . — “You got to reform,” says she. “Go on a pilgrimage,” says she, “go on foot to Kiev. From Kiev to Moscow, from Moscow to Trinity Monastery, from Trinity Monastery to New Jerusalem, and then home again. Go and in a year you’ll be a new man.” I put on a beggar’s rags, slung a knapsack on my back, and walked to Kiev . . . Nothing doing! I was reformed, but only halfway . . . Those spuds hit the spot! Outside Kharkov571 linked up with a swell gang traveling my way, drank up my money, got in a fight and came back here. Even lost my patchport . . .58
Pause.
Now she won’t take nothing from me . . . She’s angry . . .
SASHA. Why don’t you go to church, Osip?
OSIP. I’d go, but then . . . Folks would start laughing . . . “Looky,” they’ll say, “he’s come to make a confession!” Besides, it’s dangerous to go near a church in the daytime. Lots of people there — they’ll kill ya.
SASHA. Well, then, why do you do harm to poor people?
OSIP. And why not harm them? That’s no concern o’ yours, Aleksandra Ivanovna! Don’t trouble your head over the rough stuff. It’s nothing you got to understand. Besides, don’t Mikhail Vasilich do harm to people?
SASHA. No one! If he does harm someone, it’s unintentionally, accidentally. He’s a good man!
OSIP. I admit I respect him more than anybody else . . . The General’s kid, Sergey Pavlych, is a stupid guy, no brains; your brother’s got no brains either, even if he is a doctor, but Mikhail Vasilich’s sharp, got lots of knowhow! Has he got a rank in the civil service?
SASHA. Of course! He’s a registrar, junior grade!59
OSIP. That so?
Pause.
Good for him! So he’s got a rank . . . Hm . . . Good for him! Only there ain’t much charity in him . . . For him everybody’s a fool, for him everybody’s a flunky . . . How can you act that way? If I was a good man, I wouldn’t act like that . . . I would be kind to the worst flunkies, fools, and crooks . . . They’re the most miserable of folks, mark my words! You got to feel sorry for them . . . There ain’t much goodness in him, not much . . . He ain’t proud, he’s chummy with all sorts, but not a lick o’ goodness . . . It’s nothing you got to worry your head about . . . Thank you kindly! I could eat spuds like that till my dying day . . . (Hands over the saucepan.) Thanks . . .
SASHA. Don’t mention it.
OSIP (sighs). You’re a wonderful woman, Aleksandra Ivanovna! How come you feed me all the time? Is there even a drop of womanly bitchiness in you, Aleksandra Ivanovna? (Laughs.) Religious! (Laughs.) First time I seen the likes of you . . . Saint Aleksandra, pray God for us sinners! (Bows.) Oh be joyful, Saint Aleksandra!
SASHA. Mikhail Vasilich is coming.
OSIP. You’re fibbing . . . At this very moment he’s with the young mistress talking about tender feelings . . . A good-looking man you’ve got there! If he wanted, the whole female sex would be after him . . . And such a sweet-talker . . . (Laughs.) Keeps playing up to the general’s lady . . . She’ll send him packing, she don’t care how good-looking he is . . . He’d like to, maybe, but she . . .