LUKINISHNA: On the shelf? Lordy-lord, I’m sure we can do better than that! What with your noble nature, and... well, all your good qualities, and everything, we’ll find you a woman—even one with money!
CAPTAIN: I don’t need a woman with money. I wouldn’t dream of doing such a despicable thing as marrying for money! I have my own money—I don’t want to be eating from her plate, I want her to eat from mine! When you marry a poor woman, she’s bound to feel and understand. I’m not that much of an egoist that I want to profit...
LUKINISHNA: Well, yes... and one thing’s sure—a poor bride might well be prettier than a rich one...
CAPTAIN: But I’m not interested in looks either! What for? You can’t use a pretty face as a cup and saucer! Beauty should not be in the flesh, it should be in the soul. What I need is goodness, meekness, you know, innocence... I want a wife who’ll honor me, respect me...
LUKINISHNA: Yes! How can she not respect you if you’re her lawfully wedded husband? It’s not like she’d be uneducated or something!
CAPTAIN: Don’t interrupt me! And I don’t need an educated wife either! Nowadays, obviously, everyone’s got an education, but there are different kinds of education. It’s all well and good if your wife can prattle in French and German and God knows what else—it’s very charming! But what use is all that if she can’t, for instance, sew a simple button onto a shirt? I come from an educated background myself. I can show my face in any circle—I can sit down and chat with Prince Kanitelin as easily as I’m chatting with you right now, but I’m a simple man, and I need a simple girl. I’m not looking for intellect. In a man, intellect is important, but a female can get by quite nicely without much intellect.
LUKINISHNA: That’s so very true! Even the newspapers are now saying that clever people are worthless!
CAPTAIN:A fool will both love you and respect you, and realize what my rank in life is. She will be fearful. A clever woman will eat your bread, but not feel whose bread she’s eating. I want you to find me a fool! It’s as simple as that! A fool! Do you have your eye on anyone?
LUKINISHNA: Oh, quite a few! (She thinks.) Let me see.... There are fools and there are fools... after all, even a foolish hen has her brainstorms! But you want a real idiot, right? (She thinks.) I know one, but I’m not sure if she’s what you’re looking for... she’s from a merchant family and comes with a dowry of about five thousand... I wouldn’t say she’s downright ugly, she’s, well, you know... neither here nor there. She’s skinny, very thin... gende, delicate... and she’s kind, beyond the call of duty! She’d hand over her last piece of bread if you told her to! And she’s meek—her mother could drag her through the house by the hair, and she wouldn’t even squeak! And she fears her parents, she goes to church, and at home she’s always ready to help! But when it comes to this... (She points to her forehead.) Do not judge me too harshly, sinful old woman that I am, for my plainspokenness, for the forthright truth that I speak to you with the Lord as my witness: she’s not all there up here! A complete fool! You can’t get a word out of her, not a word, as if she were dead as a doornail. She’ll sit there tight-lipped for hours, and suddenly, out of the blue—she’ll jump up! As if you’d poured boiling water over her! She jumps up as if she were scalded and starts babbling... babbling, babbling... babbling endlessly... that her parents are fools, the food’s awful, and all they do is lie, and that she has nowhere to go, that they ruined her life... “There’s no way,” the girl shouts, “that you can understand me!” The fool! A merchant called Kashalotov was wooing her—she turned him down! She laughed in his face! And he’s rich, handsome, elegant, just like a young officer! And what does she do? She snatches up a stupid book, marches off to the pantry, and starts reading!
CAPTAIN: NOshe’s not a fool of the right category... find me another! (He gets up and looks at his watch.) Well, bonjour for now. I’ll be getting back to my bachelor business.
LUKINISHNA: Well, go right along! Go with God! (She gets up.) I’ll drop by again Saturday evening with more about our bride.... (She walks over to the door.) And by the way, while you’re getting back to your bachelor business, should I send you someone else for now?
IN
AUTUMN
NIGHT WAS ABOUT TO FALL. A crowd of
A crowd of coach-men and pilgrims was sitting in Uncle Tikhon’s tavern. An autumn downpour with raging wet winds that lashed across their faces had driven them to seek refuge there. The tired, drenched travelers sat listening to the wind, dozing on benches by the wall. Boredom was written on their faces. One coachman, a pockmarked fellow with a scarred face, held a wet accordion on his knees: he played and stopped mechanically.
Outside the tavern door splashes of rain flew around the dim, grimy lantern. The wind howled like a wolf, yelping, as if to tear itself away from its tether by the door. From the yard came the sound of horses snorting and hoofs thudding in the mud. It was dank and cold.
Uncle Tikhon, a tall peasant with a fat face and small, drowsy, deep-set eyes, sat behind the counter. In front of him on the other side of the counter stood a man of about forty, in clothes that were dirty and shabby but respectable. He was wearing a wrinkled summer coat covered with mud, calico pants, and rubber galoshes without shoes. His head, his thin pointed elbows, and the hands jammed into his pockets were shivering feverishly. From time to time a sudden spasm ran down his whole gaunt body, from his horribly haggard face to his rubber galoshes.
“For Christ’s sake!” he said to Tikhon in his scratchy, broken bass. “Give me a drink... just a little one, that glass there! You can put it on my tab!”
“You bet I can! Nothing but scoundrels in here!”
The scoundrel looked at Tikhon with contempt, with hatred. If he could, he would have murdered him then and there.
“You just don’t understand, you lout, you numskull! It’s not me begging—from deep within my guts—as you say in your peasant lingo! It’s my illness begging! Can’t you see that?”
“There’s nothing to see! Get out!”
“You must understand! If I don’t get a drink now, if I don’t assuage my passion, I’m quite capable of committing a crime! By God, I’m quite capable! You bastard, you’ve been handing out drinks to drunkards for ages in your damn tavern! And you’re telling me that till today you never gave a thought to what they were? Sick people, that’s what! You can chain them up, beat them, flail them—as long as you give them their vodka! I humbly beg you! I implore you! I’m demeaning myself.... Lord, how I am demeaning myself!” The scoundrel shook his head and spat on the floor.
“Give me money, and you’ll have your vodka!” Tikhon said.
“Where am I supposed to get money from? I’ve drunk it all! This coat’s all I’ve got left. I can’t give it to you, I’m not wearing anything underneath... d’you want my hat?”
The scoundrel gave Tikhon his felt hat, whose lining was showing through here and there. Tikhon took the hat, looked at it, and shook his head.
“I wouldn’t take this if you gave it to me for nothing!” he said. “It’s a piece of shit!”
“You don’t like it? Then give me a drink on credit if you don’t like it. When I come back from town I’ll give you your fiver! Then you can choke on it! Yes, choke on it!”
“You trying to con me? What kind of a man are you? What did you come here for?”
“I want a drink. Not me, my illness! Do you understand?”
“Why are you bothering me? The road outside is full of scum like you! Go ask them in the name of Christ to give you a drink. All I’ll hand out in the name of Christ is bread! You swine!”