Максим Горький

The Essential Russian Plays & Short Stories


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live, not like an immortal, but like a man that may die to-morrow.

      Doctor (shakes his head doubtfully): H’m. I’ll try it. (Wipes his eyes.) Good-bye, Mr. Harlequin.

      Harlequin: Good-bye, Mr. Doctor. (Exit Doctor, finger on brow.) Well, what have you got to say of it, Pierrot?

      Pierrot: Nothing good. (It grows dark.)

      Harlequin: The old ape imagined I don’t feel death coming. As if a man, sleeping longer than he revels, could still have doubts about the approach of death. But what’s the time? (The clock shows eight.) Hasn’t the clock stopped? It always went in step with me, but now ——

      Pierrot: You’re too nervous.

      Harlequin: We can’t all be like you.

      Pierrot: What do you mean?

      Harlequin: You’ll soon see. Help me to lay the table for supper.

      Pierrot (going to the clipboard): With great pleasure.

      Harlequin: We must lay for three.

      Pierrot: Three?

      Harlequin: Yes.

      Pierrot: Whom’s the third for?

      Harlequin: For Death.

      Pierrot: She’ll sit down with us?

      Harlequin: If you’re not afraid of her.

      Pierrot: Two glasses are enough; I won’t have supper with you.

      Harlequin: Come, come! I was joking. Death will sup on me. That’s sufficient for her. But, all the same, lay for three. (Lights the lamp.)

      Pierrot: But whom’s the third for ?

      Columbine’s voice (sings):

I from my husband unsuspected Steal to another ’neath the moon; When desire’s interdicted, Doubly ’tis desired soon. Ah, my heart is trembling, Fainting, beating slow — If my spouse should see me, Should hearken, and should know.

      Pierrot: What’s that? Columbine’s voice! My wife’s voice!

      Harlequin: Now you know whom the third place is for.

      Pierrot (tragically): A-ah! Traitor! A-ah! Demon! This is your friendship!

      Harlequin: Be calm. Why, nothing’s happened yet!

      Pierrot: It only wants that!

      Harlequin: And if I were to say that it doesn’t even want that?

      Pierrot: And you dare pretend that you love me!

      Harlequin: I love you both. But you want it to be only you, and so you’re jealous.

      Pierrot: You know very well how, of whom, and why I’m jealous.

      Harlequin: Be sensible. If you love me and love Columbine, you ought to be happy for both our sakes. Besides, you know we both love you. So what is there to be sad about? Lay a third place.

      Pierrot: No, I’m not so simple. Nice people don’t behave like that, and there’s nothing else left for me than to revenge myself on you.

      Harlequin: In what way?

      Pierrot: By death.

      Harlequin: But it’ll come soon anyhow — my hours are numbered. Who will prevent you afterwards from telling everybody that it was the work of your hands?

      Pierrot: Suppose ——

      Harlequin: Come, what is there to talk about! Lay a third place.

      Pierrot (considering): Yes, but ——

      Harlequin: Come, come. Time’s precious. (Pierrot fetches the plates and drops them.) Butterfingers! You were bound to smash ’em.

      Pierrot (pathetically) : It’s not for you to reproach me! You’ve destroyed my happiness.

      Harlequin (laying the third place): No phrases, please! You’ve been cold with Columbine for a long time, and you’re only jealous because it’s good manners. But, shh!

      Columbine’s voice:

Columbine has donned her mask And is clad in motley gear, O, Wants to see her Harlequin But’s afraid of meeting Pierrot. Ah, her heart is trembling, Fainting, beating slow — If her spouse should see her, Should hearken, and should know.

      Harlequin: I’m going to meet Columbine; you look after the lamp. (Exit.)

      Pierrot: H’m. Look after the lamp! (Suddenly strikes his forehead.) Wouldn’t it be better to look after the clock? Well, if Harlequin’s death ought to be the work of my hands, very well! Ladies and gentlemen, you are my witnesses! I don’t leave that sort of things unpunished — I’ll put the hands on two hours. (Does so.) Ah! Harlequin, evidently no one can escape his fate. Now I’m quite calm: I’m revenged. Interesting to see how she’ll look at me. This way, please, Madame Traitress.

      Harlequin (off): Don’t be afraid, Columbine! Go in fearlessly. I’ve persuaded him, and, word of honour, he’s consented.

      Columbine (enters): Consented?! Here’s a fine thing! Consented! What, you little beast, that’s all you think of your wife! You don’t care if she betrays you? You don’t care? Answer! (Beats Pierrot.)

      Pierrot (agonised): But listen, Columbine.

      Columbine: What? I must listen to you? Listen to the worst little beast of a husband of all little beasts of husbands? ——

      Pierrot: But, Columbine.

      Columbine: Blockhead!

      Pierrot: You don’t let me utter a word.

      Columbine (beats him): You’ve got no excuse! And I, poor thing, married a little beast like you! Gave you all the best there was in me! And he can’t even stand up for my conjugal honour! Take that, and that, and that, you good-for-nothing!

      Pierrot: But that’s too much! Harlequin, protect me.

      Harlequin: This is your own business.

      Pierrot: Yes, but, dear old chap ——

      Harlequin: I haven’t been brought up to interfere in other people’s private matters.

      Columbine (to Pierrot): There, that’s how you love me! That’s how jealous you are of me! Where are your vows, you pagan?

      Pierrot (coming to himself): Oh, to Hell with this, I never heard of such a thing! Why, you impudent woman, you came here yourself to a rendezvous and yet you dare say ——

      Columbine: That’s enough! Be quiet! I know the little ways of rogues like you: when you’re found out you start to find fault with the innocent, so as to get out of the difficulty. But you don’t deceive me, you good-for-nothing.

      Harlequin (interposing): Friends, don’t let’s waste precious time! When supper’s waiting, is it worth while spoiling one's appetite?

      Columbine and Pierrot: But it is irritating!

      Harlequin: I don’t like to see quarrels starting.

      Columbine and Pierrot: It’s not my fault.

      Harlequin: Better make friends!

      Columbine and Pierrot: Not for anything.

      Harlequin: What obstinacy!

      Columbine and Pierrot: I’ve been wounded in my finest feelings.

      Harlequin: Come, enough.

      Columbineand Pierrot: No.

      Columbine: First he ought to be punished.

      Harlequin: In what way?

      Columbine: Kiss me,