Антон Чехов

The Greatest Russian Short Stories & Plays


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      Oh, Lord! Oh, heavens! Is it possible the monastery is on fire! Good gracious! Heavens! And you here, you drunken sot! You monster!

      TONY

      Oho! They are running? Faces, mugs, eh?

       [The bell begins to toll the alarm. Then the strokes follow each other in more rapid succession; hasty, disquieting, uneven, they blend with the noise of the street and seem to creep through the window.

      PELAGUEYA (crying)

      Good God, I don't know where to turn.

       [She runs out. The cries in the street grow louder. Someone yells in one prolonged note "Oh-oh-oh!" until the sound is drowned in the general noise, excitement, and ringing.

      LIPA (moving away from the window, very pale, stupefied) What does it mean? It cannot be. It is impossible. Tony, Tony, get up. Tony, brother, what does it mean? Tony!

      TONY (reassuringly)

      It's nothing. They are all faces.

      SAVVA (leaving the window, calm and stern, but also pale) Well, sister?

      LIPA (flinging herself about the room)

      I want to run with the rest. I'll run. Where is my scarf? Where is my scarf? My God, My God! Where is my scarf?

      SAVVA

      Your scarf? There it is. But I won't give it to you. Sit down; you have nothing to do there.

      LIPA

      Let me have it.

      SAVVA

      No, sit down, sit down. It's too late now anyway.

      LIPA

      Too late?

      SAVVA

      Yes, too late. Don't you hear the noise the crowd is making and the way they are running and pushing?

      LIPA

      I'll run, I'll run.

      SAVVA

      Keep still—sit down. (Forces her to sit down) Tony, did you hear? They've exploded God.

      TONY (looking at Savva's face in terror)

      Savva, don't make me laugh. Turn your face away.

       [Savva smiles and walks around the room with buoyant step, without his usual stoop.

      LIPA (faintly)

      Savva.

      SAVVA

      What is it? Speak louder.

      LIPA

      Is it, really true?

      SAVVA

      It's true.

      LIPA

      And doesn't He really exist?

      SAVVA

      He does not.

       [Lipa begins to cry, at first low, then more and more loudly. The sound of the ringing bells and the noise of the crowd continue to swell. The rolling and clatter of wagons is also heard.

      SAVVA

      They are running. My, how they are running! (Lipa says something, but her words are inaudible) Louder. I can't hear you. My, how they are ringing.

      LIPA (aloud)

      Kill, me, Savva.

      SAVVA

      Why? You'll die anyhow.

      LIPA

      I can't wait. I'll kill myself.

      SAVVA

      Go ahead, kill yourself, kill yourself quick!

       [Lipa cries, burying her head in the armchair Tony, his face distorted with fear, looks at Savva, holding both his hands in readiness at his mouth. Loud peals of the bell. The disquieting sound blends with the loud tone of Savva's speech.

      SAVVA (shouting)

      Ah! They are ringing. Ring on! Ring on! Soon the whole earth will ring. I hear! I hear! I see your cities burning! I see the flames. I hear the crackling. I see the houses tumbling on your heads. There is no place to run to. No refuge! No refuge! Fire everywhere. The churches are burning. The factories are burning. The boilers are bursting. An end to all slavish toil!

      TONY (trembling with fear)

      Savva, shut up, or I am going to laugh.

      SAVVA (unheeding)

      The time has come! The time has come! Do you hear? The earth is casting you out. There is no place for you on earth. No! He is coming! I see him! He is coming, the free man! He is being born in the flames! He himself is fire and resolution! An end to the earth of slaves!

      TONY

      Savva, shut up!

      SAVVA (bending down to Tony)

      Be prepared! He is coming! Do you hear his tread? He is coming! He is coming!

      CURTAIN

      THE FOURTH ACT

       Table of Contents

      Near the monastery. A broad road crosses the stage obliquely. On the far side of the road is the river, beyond which opens a wide prospect of the surrounding country—meadows, woods, and villages, with the crosses of the churches burning in the sun. In the distance, at the right, where the mountain projects over a glistening bend of the river, is seen a part of the walls and the towers of the monastery. On the near side of the road is a hilly elevation covered with trampled grass. It is between five and six in the morning. The sun is out. The mist over the meadow is scattering slowly.

      Now and then a pilgrim or group of pilgrims may be seen hurrying by on their way to the monastery. Wagons carrying cripples and other monstrosities pass along the road. The noise of thousands may be heard from the monastery. The crowd is evidently moved by some joyous emotion. No individual voices are heard, but it is as if one could feel the singing of the blind, the cries, and the quick, glad snatches of conversation. The general effect is that of an elemental force. The noise decreases at regular intervals, like a wave, and then the singing of the blind becomes distinctly audible.

      Lipa and the Young Friar appear on the near side of the road: Lipa is sitting on the hillock, dressed as she was the night before, but her head is covered with a white scarf carelessly tied. She is exhausted with joy and almost dropping off to sleep. The Friar stands near her. On his face there is a troubled, vacant look. His movements are irresolute and aimless. He tries to smile, but his smile is twisted and pitiful. He is like a child who feels hurt without knowing the cause.

      LIPA (untying her scarf)

      Heavens, but this is splendid! I should like to die here. I can't get enough of it. Oh, it's splendid, it's splendid!

      FRIAR (looking around)

      Yes, it is splendid. But I can't stand it in there. I can't. They push and jostle and press and jam. They crushed the life out of one woman, absolutely crushed her. She had a child with her. I couldn't look at it. I—I'll go to the woods.

      LIPA

      How splendid! Oh, Lord!

      FRIAR (looking dejectedly into the distance)

      I'll go to the woods.

      LIPA

      And to think that only yesterday everything was just as usual. There was nothing of all this, no miracle, nothing. There was only Savva—I can't believe it was yesterday. It seems to me a whole year has