UN VERSITY OF CALIFORNIA,, SAN DIEGO
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UNIVERSITY OF
CALIFORNIA
SAN DIEGO
Mnn OF
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Central University Library
University of California, San Diego
Note: This item is subject to recall after two weeks.
Date Due
J 141993
^ 1 ^ 1993 RKT
>
APR ? n 1QQ?
0139(1/91)
UCSDLib.
TLAYS OF TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW
THE LOWE "DEPTHS
Plays of To-day and To-morrow
DON. By RUDOLF BESIER.
" Mr. Besier is a man who can see and think for himself, and con-
structs as setting for the result of that activity a form of his own. The
construction of ' Don ' is as daring as it is original."— Mr. Max Beer-
bohni in The Saturday Review.
" It is a fresh and moving story . . . and full of good things." — Mr.
A. B. Walkley in The Times.
"'Don' is a genuine modern comedy, rich in observation and
courage, and will add to the author's reputation as a sincere dramatist."
— Mr. E. F. Spence in The Westminster Gazette.
THE EARTH. By JAMES B. PAGAN.
"A magnificent play — at one and the same time a vital and fearless
attack on political fraud, and a brilliantly-written strong human
drama."— The Daily Chronicle.
"'The Earth' must conquer every one by its buoyant irony, its
pungent delineations, and not least by its rich stores of simple and
wholesome moral feeling." — The Pall Mall Gazette.
LADY PATRICIA. By RUDOLF BESIER.
" One of the most delightful productions which the stage has shown
us in recent years. Mr. Besier' s work would ' read ' deliciously ; it is
literary, it is witty, it is remarkable. . . . ' Lady Patricia ' is much more
than merely a success of laughter. It is also a success of literature.
It is difficult, if not impossible, to convey the delicate feeling for
words, the quaint, satirical quizzing of Mr. Besier of the firecieuse, the
dabblers in sentiment, the poseurs who form the people of his play." —
The Standatd.
THE MASTER OF MRS. CHILVERS.
By JEROME K. JEROME.
" It cannot be denied that Mr. Jerome has written an excellent acting
play." — Glasgow Herald.
" There is no caricature of the suffragist, and every type in the play
is both carefully and skilfully drawn." — Aberdeen Free Press.
THE WATERS OF BITTERNESS
(A Play in Three Acts) and THE CLOD-
HOPPER (An Incredible Comedy).
By S. M. Fox.
"I am inclined to think that we shall hear a great deal of Mr. Fox —
supposing that Mr. Fox writes other plays as clever as 'The Waters of
Bitterness,' and supposing that managers think the public clever
enough to appreciate them. Anyhow his is a strong and bold debut."
— Mr. Max Beerbohm in The Saturday Review.
LONDON : T. FISHER UNWIN
NEW YORK: DUFFIELD & CO.
MAXIM GORKY.
THE
LOWER "DEPTHS
A TLAT IN FOU^ ACTS
BY
3MAXIM gORKI
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN
BY
LAURENCE IRVING
•
LONDON: r. FISHED
ADELPHI TERRACE
(All tighls reserved.)
The Cast of " The Lower Depths," as it was produced
at the Kingsway Theatre, London, on December
2, 1911 :
Luka HOLMAN CLARKE
Vassilisa FRANCES WETHERALL
Vaska Pepel O. P. HEGGIE
Natasha JEAN BLOOMFIELD
The Actor LEWIS WILLOUGHBY
Anna HAIDEE WRIGHT
Satine HERBERT BUNSTON
Nastya LYDIA YAVORSKA
The Baron VINCENT CLIVE
Kvashnya CLARE GREET
Boobnoff E. H. BROOKE
Kleeshtsh C. F. COLLINGS
Myedvyedyeff ALBAN ATTWOOD
Kostoloff J. H. BREWER
The Tartar IVAN BERLYN
Alyoshka RICHARD NEVILLE
When .. SIDNEY TEVERSHEM
THE FIRST ACT
THE FIRST ACT
SCENE. — A cave -like cellar. The ceiling is
arched, grimy, with the plaster peeling off.
The light comes from a square window high
up in the right wall. The right corner is
partitioned off with thin boards; it forms
PEPEL'S room . Close to the door of this room
are BOOBNOFF'S sleeping -planks. In left
corner is a large Russian stove ; in the stone
wall left is the kitchen door, where KVASHNYA,
the BARON, and NASTYA live. Against the
wait, between the stove and the door, is a
large bed with dirty print curtains. Sleep ing-
planks around the walls. To the front by the
left wall is a block of wood with a vice, and
an anvil, also another lower block of wood.
(On the lower block KLESSHTSH is seated
trying keys into old locks. At his feet
are two large bundles of miscellaneous
keys, strung on wire rings, a battered tin
samovar, hammer, and pincers. In the
middle of the shelter are a large table,
two seats, a stool, all dirty and of plain
wood. KVASHNYA is behind the table
attending to the samovar, the BARON is
chewing some black bread, and NASTYA
11
12 THE LOWER DEPTHS
is on the stool, leaning her elbow on the
table, reading a tattered book . In the bed,
behind the curtains, ANNA lies coughing.
BOOBNOFF is seated on his planks with
an old hat shape between his knees, con-
sidering how he shall deal with a pair of
unstitched old trousers. Scattered about
him are a couple of vizors, some pieces
of buckram, a rag. SATINE has only just
gone off to sleep on his planks; he grunts
in his sleep. The ACTOR, out of sight,
tosses about on the stove and coughs.)
(It is an early spring morning.)
THE BARON.
And after I
KVASHNYA.
No, says I, no, dearie, just you stow it, says I ;
I've tried it, you see . . . and it's no more
marriages for me 1
BOOBNOFF.
(To SATINE.) Stop that grunting I
KVASHNYA.
What for, says I ; me a free woman, my own
mistress — what for should I go and give up my
passport and saddle myself with a husband — no 1
I wouldn't marry no man — let alone one of them
American Princes, that I wouldn't !
KLESSHTSH .
You lie !
THE LOWER DEPTHS 13
KVASHNYA.
What -at ?
KLESSHTSH.
You lie 1 You'll marry Abramka. . . .
THE BARON.
(Reading the title of the book he has snatched
away from NASTYA.) " The Fatal Love "...
(He laughs.)
NASTYA.
(Extending hand.) Give now . . . give it
. . . stop fooling 1
(The BARON flourishes the book in the air.)
KVASHNYA.
(To KLESSHTSH.) You red goat, you— telling
me I lie 1 Just don't you dare to give me none of
them coarse words.
THE BARON.
(Striking the book on NASTYA'S head.) Nastya,
you little fool ! . . .
NASTYA.
Give it here.
KLESSHTSH.
Quite the fine lady. . . . But you'll be married
to Abramka . . . and you know you're just
dying to. ...
14 THE LOWER DEPTHS
KVASHNYA.
Aren't you clever I I just see myself . . . you
as 'as done your wife nearly to death.
KLESSHTSH.
Stop it, you hag ! Tain't no affair of
yours. . . .
KVASHNYA.
Ah, ha, you can't stand the truth !
THE BARON.
They're started. Nasty a, where are you?
ANNA.
(Putting .her head through the curtains.}
Morning at last I For Heaven's sake don't shout
. . . stop quarrelling.
KLESSHTSH.
Moaning — moaning .
ANNA.
Every blessed day. . . . Might let me die in
peace.
BOOBNOFF.
Noise ain't no 'indrance to dying.
KVASHNYA.
(Approaching ANNA.) 'Ow yer ever 'ave
managed, you poor soul, to live with such a beast ?
ANNA.
Don't . don't.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 15
KVASHNYA.
Well, well I You're such a patient thing1. . . .
Ain't the chest no easier?
THE BARON.
Kvashnya ! Time for market. . . .
KVASHNYA.
Just a second ! (To ANNA.) 'Ud yer like
some of my 'ot pies?
ANNA.
No, no ... thanks. Why should I eat?
KVASHNYA.
Must eat. 'Ot ones — soothing. I'll leave you
some in a cup . . . then when you feel like
it, yer gobble it up. 1 Come on, Baron. . . .
(To KLESSHTSH.) Er— you dirty beast ! . . .
(Goes into kitchen.)
ANNA.
(Coughing.) Lord, Lord. . . .
THE BARON.
(Softly nudging NASTYA'S elbow.) Chuck it
. . . yer silly 1
NASTYA.
(Growls.) Do go. . . . I let you alone.
(THE BARON goes out after KVASHNYA,
whistling.)
16 THE LOWER DEPTHS
SATINE.
(Sitting up on his planks.) Can't think who
it was that pummelled me yesterday ?
BOOBNOFF.
Does it matter much 'oo it was ?
SATINE.
Leave it at that. . . . But what was it for,
though ?
BOOBNOFF.
Was yer play in' cards ?
SATINE.
Played.
BOOBNOFF.
Well, then, that's 'ow it was. . . .
SATINE.
The blackguards.
THE ACTOR.
(Raising his head from the stove.) One of
these days you'll get such a real pummelling— a
pummelling to death.
SATINE.
Don't talk rot.
THE ACTOR.
Why rot?
SATINE.
Because . . a man can't die twice over.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 17
THE ACTOR.
(After a silence.) What do you mean? How
can't he?
KLESSHTSH.
Come down off that stove, and sweep up. ...
What are yer shamming there ?
THE ACTOR.
That's none of your business. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
Wait till Vassilisa comes — she'll soon show yer
yours .
THE ACTOR.
Vassilisa can go to the devil. It's the Baron's
day to sweep. . . . Baron !
(BARON coming out from the kitchen.)
THE BARON.
I've no time for sweeping. ... I'm off to
market with Kvashnya.
THE ACTOR.
For all I care . . . you may be going to jail.
. . . It's your turn to sweep . . . and I'm not
on to doing other people's jobs. . . .
THE BARON.
Oh, go to blazes ! Let Nastya do it. . . . Hi,
you there, fatal love I Buck up ! (Takes book
from NASTYA.)
18 THE LOWER DEPTHS
NASTYA.
(Getting up.} What now? Give it here ! You
puppy ! And you call yerself a gentleman. . . .
THE BARON.
(Giving back the book.) Nastya ! You're
going to sweep up for me— understood ?
NASTYA.
(Going into kitchen.) Likely indeed. . . .
What next I
KVASHNYA.
(To BARON through kitchen door.) Now come
on ! They can do it without you. . . . Actor !
you was asked — you do it ... it won't kill yer I
THE ACTOR.
Yes . . . it's always me. ... I don't see
it. ...
(BARON comes out of kitchen carrying some
earthen pots strung on a pole and
covered with rags.)
THE BARON.
A bit heavy to-day. . . .
SATINE.
Fat lot of good being born a Baron, I don't
think ! . . .
KVASHNYA.
(To ACTOR.) Just you be sure and sweep up I
(Goes off pushing the BARON before her.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 19
THE ACTOR.
(Coming down from stove.) It's harmful for
me to inhale the dust. (With pride.) My
organism is poisoned with alcohol. . . . (Seated
meditating on planks.)
SATINE.
Organism . . . organon. . . .
ANNA.
Andree Mitritch. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
Well, what?
ANNA.
Left some pies for me Kvashnya did— you have
them.
KLESSHTSH .
(Approaching ANNA.) Well, won't you?
ANNA.
No, no. ... Why should I eat? You've to
work ; you . . . you need it. ...
KLESSHTSH.
Frightened? Don't be frightened . . . might
get all right. . . .
ANNA.
Go and eat ! In a bad way ... all over
soon.
20 THE LOWER DEPTHS
KLESSHTSH.
Come, come — you never know . . . may pull
round . . . such things happen !
(Goes into kitchen.}
THE ACTOR.
(Loud, as if he had suddenly woken up.)
Yesterday in the hospital, the doctor he said to
me : - Your organism," he said, -' is thoroughly
poisoned with alcohol "...
SATINE.
(Smiling.) Organon. . . .
THE ACTOR.
Not organon — or-ga-nism.
SATINE.
Sicambri. . . .
THE ACTOR.
(Waving his hand at him.) Oh, rubbish 1 I
say this, and seriously. If the organism is
poisoned . . . why, then it must be harmful for
me to sweep the floor — to inhale the dust. . . .
SATINE.
Macrobistik . . . ha I
THE ACTOR.
What are you muttering?
SATINE.
Words . . . here's another for you — trans -
cendentalistic.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 21
BOOBNOFF.
What does it mean ?
SATINE .
Don't know . . . forgotten. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
What are you coming at ?
SATINE.
Just so ... I'm tired, mate, of all our human
speech ... all of our words. I'm sick of 'em.
I've heard 'em every single one ... at least a
thousand times. . . .
THE ACTOR.
In the play of " Hamlet " they say : " Words,
words, words I " It's a good piece ... I
played the grave-digger. . . .
(KLESSHTSH coming from the kitchen.}
KLESSHTSH.
Let's see how you play with that broom.
THE ACTOR.
Keep to your own business . . . (Strikes his
chest.) Ophelia I O . . . think of me in thy
prayers !
(In the distance is heard a dull murmur,
cries, and a police whistle. KLESSHTSH
sits down to his work, and scrapes away
with a file.)
22 THE LOWER DEPTHS
SATINE.
I love difficult, rare words. When I was a
little chap ... I was in a telegraph office . . .
read a heap of books. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Did you work the telegraph?
SATINE.
I did. . . . There are some very good books
. . . and quantities of curious words. . . . I've
received an education . . . see?
BOOBNOFF.
You don't let one forget it ! Much good it'd
done yer ! Now I — I was a fur -dyer . . . had
a place of my own . . . 'ands all yaller — with
the dye : dyed 'em this and dyed 'em that : 'ands
all yaller right up to the elbows ! " Well," I
thought, " I shall never get 'em clean in this
world ... I shall just die with these 'ere yaller
'ands." . . . But look at 'em now, there's only
dirt on 'em . . . nothing else.
SATINE.
Well, what of it ?
BOOBNOFF.
That's just all about it. ...
SATINE.
What are you talking about?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 23
BOOBNOFF.
Just so ... just comparing. ... It shows
yer whatever you does to the outside it all comes
off ... it all comes off, ay, ay.
SATINE.
Ah . . . my bones are aching !
THE ACTOR.
(Seated nursing his knee.) Education's bosh,
the great thing is talent. I knew an actor . . .
had to spell out his parts, but he played heroes in
a way that . . . why, the theatre would just rock
with the delight of the audiences.
SATINE.
BoobnofT, lend us five kopyeks?
BOOBNOFF.
All I have's two. . . .
THE ACTOR.
I say ... to play heroes you must have
talent. And talent's just belief in yourself, in
your own powers. . . .
SATINE.
Give me five kopyeks and I'll have belief in
you ; I'll believe you a hero, a crocodile, a police
inspector. . . . Klesshtsh, five kopyeks !
KLESSHTSH.
Go to hell ! The whole pack of you !
24 THE LOWER DEPTHS
SATINE.
What are you cursing at? You haven't got a
stiver in the world — I know yer !
ANNA.
Andree Mitritch ... I'm choking ... I
can't breathe !
KLESSHTSH .
What can I do?
BOOBNOFF.
Open the passage door !
KLESSHTSH.
Thanks. Nice for you up there ; I've to be
on the floor ... if I was in your place I'd say
" Open it." . . . I'm cold enough without no
door open.
BOOBNOFF.
It wasn't for me ... it was for yer wife. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
(Sulkily.} Makes no odds who it's for.
SATINE.
My head's all buzzing. . . . Eh . . . why
must people be thumping each other's heads?
BOOBNOFF.
Not only each other's heads, but all over each
other's 'ole bodies. (Gets up.} Coin' to buy
THE LOWER DEPTHS 25
some thread . . . they're late in showin' up to-
day our losses !
(Goes out.}
(ANNA coughs: SATINE lies motionless, with
his hands folded behind his head.)
THE ACTOR.
(After a melancholy look round, approaching
ANNA.) Feeling bad, eh?
ANNA.
. . . the choking . . .
THE ACTOR.
Would you like to go out into the passage ? Up
you get, then. (He helps her to rise, pulls a kind
of shawl round her shoulders, and supports her
towards the passage.) Ay — ay . . . it's a job.
I'm ill myself — poisoned with alcohol. . . .
(KOSTOLOFF in doorway.)
KOSTOLOFF.
Having a stroll?
Here's a very pretty pair,
Gallant knight and lady fair. . . .
THE ACTOR.
Get on one side there. . . . way for the
invalids !
KOSTOLOFF.
Pass out, pass out. . . . (He hums an anthem
26 THE LOWER DEPTHS
tune, glances round suspiciously, and inclines his
head to the L. as if he were listening for some-
thing in PEPEL'S room.)
(Exeunt ACTOR and ANNA.)
(KLESSHTSH is jangling his keys and
scraping away with his file.)
How you squeak !
KLESSHTSH.
What d'you say?
KOSTOLOFF.
I say you squeak. (Pause.) Er . . . There
was something* I wanted to ask you. (Quick and
low.) Wife not been here ?
KLESSHTSH.
Ain't seen her.
KOSTOLOFF.
(Carefully approaching the door of PEPEL'S
room.) It's a lot of room that you take up for
your rouble a month. The bed . . . and then
where you sit ... hum, yes 1 Five roubles'
worth of room as Heaven's above us. I shall
have to stick you on half a rouble. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
You'd put a rope round my neck, and strangle
me. ... You're near the grave, and you think
of nothing but half -roubles. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 27
KOSTOLOFF.
Why strangle you ? What were the use of that ?
Live in the Lord, live and prosper. . . . But I
shall have to stick you on half a rouble — 'ave to
buy oil for the sacred lamp . . . that it may
burn before the Holy Ikons in atonement of my
sins. . . . And my sins will be forgiven me,
and yours too. Your sins you don't think about
. . . no, verily. . . . Oh, Andruishka, you are
a wicked man ! Your wife is perishing through
your wickedness ... no one loves you, nor
esteems you . . . your work is squeaky, dis-
turbing to everybody.
KLESSHTSH.
What do you come here for — baiting me ?
(SATINE gives a loud growl.)
KOSTOLOFF.
(With a start.) Lord, there's a noise for
you. . . .
(The ACTOR entering.)
THE ACTOR.
I've sat her down in the passage, and wrapped
her up.
KOSTOLOFF.
Here's what I call a real good fellow. There
are good deeds. They shall all be paid back
to you.
THE ACTOR.
When?
28 THE LOWER DEPTHS
KOSTOLOFF.
In the other world, my boy . . . there all,
every one of our acts, they shall all be reckoned
up. ...
THE ACTOR.
Suppose you were to reward me for my goodness
down here. . . .
KOSTOLOFF.
How can I do that ?
THE ACTOR.
Wipe out half my debt.
KOSTOLOFF.
He — he ! You are always joking, my dear boy,
— always poking fun. ... Is the goodness of
the heart to be paid for in money? Goodness —
is above all other gifts. But your debt to me —
that is ... your debt to me. And accordingly
you should pay me back. . . . Doing me good
for its own sake, to me, who am an old man. . . .
THE ACTOR.
Old man — you old rogue 1 ...
(Goes into the kitchen.)
(KLESSHTSH gets up and goes into the
passage.)
KOSTOLOFF.
The squeaker — he's hooked it. He — he I He
has no love for me.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 29
SATINE.
Who but the Devil does love you?
KOSTOLOFF.
Oh, you've a bad tongue ! Yet I love all of
you. ... I see that you are my poor, down-
trodden, useless, fallen brothers. . . . (Suddenly
and rapidly.) And Vaska . . . is he at home?
SATINE.
Look . . .
(Going to the door and knocking at it.)
Vaska !
(THE ACTOR appears at the kitchen door,
chewing something.)
PEPEL.
Who is it?
KOSTOLOFF.
It's me . . . me, Vaska !
PEPEL.
What d'you want ?
KOSTOLOFF.
(Bawling back). Open !
SATINE.
(Without looking at KOSTOLOFF.) He opens,
and there she'll be. ...
(THE ACTOR makes a grimace.)
KOSTOLOFF.
(Low, anxiously.) Eh? Who'll be there?
What do you mean'?
30 THE LOWER DEPTHS
SATINE.
What's that ? Are you asking me ?
KOSTOLOFF.
What did you say?
SATINE.
I was just . . . talking to myself.
KOSTOLOFF.
Look here, my friend 1 Don't get too funny
. . . see I (Bangs on the door.} Vassili I
PEPEL.
(Opening door.} Now, then? What's up?
KOSTOLOFF.
(Looking into the room.} I ... you see
. . . you. . . .
PEPEL.
'Ave yer brought the money?.
KOSTOLOFF.
I wanted to tell you. . . .
PEPEL.
Where is — the money ?
KOSTOLOFF.
What money?
PEPEL.
Why, the seven roubles for the watch— now?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 31
KOSTOLOFF.
What watch, Vaska ? What a fellow you are !
PEPEL.
You're a good 'un 1 Yesterday, before wit-
nesses, I sold you a ticker for ten roubles . . .
three I had — the seven — fork it up I What are
yer blinking for? You prowl about waking
people up ... and now you don't know your-
self what you're after.
KOSTOLOFF.
Sh— sh I Don't get angry, Vaska. . . . The
watch, you see — it was . . .
PEPEL.
Stolen. . . .
KOSTOLOFF.
(Sternly.) I receive no stolen goods . . .
that you should think
PEPEL.
(Taking him by the shoulder.} Now, what
did you disturb me for ? What is it you want ?
KOSTOLOFF.
I don't want — nothing. ... I'll be off — if
you're going to. ...
PEPEL.
Be off, and bring the money !
KOSTOLOFF.
A dreadful surly lot 1 Who ever did ! . . .
(Goes off.)
32 THE LOWER DEPTHS
THE ACTOR.
It's a farce they're playing.
SATINE.
Good. I like farce. . . .
PEPEL.
What was he after, eh ?
SATINE.
(Smiling.) You don't know? He's after his
wife . . . why don't you settle him, Vaska?
PEPEL.
Risk my life for a tihing like that. . . .
SATINE.
You're a sharp lad. Then — why shu'd marry
Vassilisa . . . and become our boss. . . .
PEPEL.
You are good ! Why, you'd just fatten on me ;
I'm a soft-hearted fool, you'd drink away every
farthing I had. . . . (Sits on the planks.} The
old devil . . . woke me up. . . .1 was having
a fine dream ; I was fishing, I'd caught a pro-di-
gious bream 1 Never saw such a one out of <a
dream. There I had him on my hook, and I
was just dreading — " the line'll snap ! " I'd just
got out the gaff . . . and I was thinking to
myself, now in a moment . . .
SATINE.
That weren't no bream, it was Vassilisa. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 33
THE ACTOR.
He hooked Vassilisa long ago. . . .
PEPEL.
(Angrily.} You can all go to the devil . . .
and you can take her with you I
(KLESSHTSH coming out of the passage.}
KLESSHTSH.
Cold . . . devilish cold.
THE ACTOR.
Have you left Anna out there ? She'll
freeze. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
Natasha 'as taken 'er with 'er into the
kitchen. . . .
THE ACTOR.
The old man'll put her out. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
(Sitting down to his work.} Hum . . .
Natasha'll see to her. . . .
SATINE.
Vaska 1 Let's have five kopyeks. . . .
THE ACTOR.
You . . . you and your five kopyeks. . . .
Give us twenty kopyeks. . . .
3
34 THE LOWER DEPTHS
PEPEL.
I'd best hurry up ... or you'll be wantin' a
rouble. . . . There 1 ...
SATINE.
Gee-bral-tar-r ! Crooks are the best folk in
the world.
KLESSHTSH.
(Grumbling.) Their money's easily come by
. . . they don't work. . . .
SATINE.
Heaps come by their money easily, there's
precious few to part with it easily. . . . Work?
You make your work so that it's pleasant to me,
and I don't say I won't work. ... I might !
When your work's a pleasure, life's jolly then.
When it"s a toil, a duty, then life's slavery I (To
the ACTOR.) Here, Sardanapalus I Come
on. ...
THE ACTOR.
Come on, Nebuchadnezzar I I'm going to swill
it down like forty thousand drunkards.
(They go out.)
PEPEL.
{Yawning.) Well, and 'ow's yer wife?
KLESSHTSH.
She ain't for long. . . . (Pause.)
PEPEL.
Yer know I look at you— there's no good in all
that scraping.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 35
KLESSHTSH.
What should I jdo ?
PEPEL.
Nothing.
KLESSHTSH.
'Ow should 1 live?
PEPEL.
People manage. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
Them ? Call them people ? Rabble, muck —
people ! I'm a working man. ... I'm ashamed
even to look at 'em. I've worked since I was
a child. . . . D'you think I shan't get clear of
all this? I shall, if I leaves all my skin behind
me . . . just you wait . . . my wife, she'll die.
. . . I've been here six months, but it seems
more like six years.
PEPEL.
There's no one here any worse that you . . .
say what yer like. . . .
*
KLESSHTSH.
No worse I They 'aven't no honour nor no
conscience.
•
PEPEL.
(Indifferently.) Much good of them — honour,
conscience ! Can you get 'em on to your feet in-
36 THE LOWER DEPTHS
stead of boots — honour and conscience? Honour
and conscience does mighty well for them as 'as
the power and the strength. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
(Re-entering.} Ooh ! . . . bitter.
PEPEL.
Boobnoff ! Got a conscience?
BOOBNOFF.
What for ? A conscience ?
PEPEL.
That's just it.
BOOBNOFF.
What 'ud I do with a conscience? I ain't no
rich man.
PEPEL.
That's what I say : honour and conscience
they're for the rich, yes I Here's Klesshtsh lettin'
it into us ; says we ain't no consciences. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Why, is 'e wantin' to borrow some?
PEPEL.
'E 'as 'is own supply. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Oh, then 'e's sellin' off. Won't find no market
here. Now, if it was old cardboard I'd take some
of it . on account. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 37
PEPEL.
(Didactically.) You are an ass, Andruishka !
Just you let Satine talk to you about consciences
... or try the Baron. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
D'you think I'd talk to sich !
PEPEL.
They've better 'eads than yours . . . for all
their drinking. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
'E that can be drunk and wise
'E's a man a man should prize. . . .
PEPEL.
Satine says, every man wants a conscience in
his neighbour, but 'e says, no man wants one in
'isself . . . and that's a fact.
(NATASHA comes in. Alter her, LUKA with
a staff, a pack over his shoulder, ft
kettle and a teapot at his waist.)
LUKA.
Give you good-day, honest people !
PEPEL.
(Twisting his moustache.) Ah, Natasha !
BOOBNOFF.
(To LUKA.) I was honest up to last spring
year. . . .
38 THE LOWER DEPTHS
NATASHA.
See, here's a new room-mate. . . .
LUKA.
Oh, it's all one to me ! Sharpers — I respect
'em, too. There's no two sorts for me ; all just
fleas ... all little black fellows ... all
hopping about . . . tha-t's the way. Show me,
dearie, where shall I squeeze myself?
NATASHA.
(Pointing to kitchen door.} Go over there,
daddy.
LUKA.
Thanks, girlie dear ! It's all just a place. . . .
Where the old man's warm, there the old man's
happy.
PEPEL.
A wonderful little old boy that you've brought
us, Natasha. . . .
NATASHA.
A sight more interestin' than you. . . .
Andree ! We've got yer wife in the kitchen . . .
just you come and fetch 'er.
KLESSHTSH.
Right. ... I'm coming.
NATASHA.
And you might try and be kinder to 'er. . . .
She hasn't much longer. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 39
KLESSHTSH.
I know. . . .
NATASHA.
You know. . . . There's no good in knowing,
the thing is to do. Ah, it's a fearful thing to
die. . . .
PEPEL.
See me. ... I'm not afraid. . . .
NATASHA.
Oh, you're a marvel, aren't you?
BOOBNOFF.
(Whistling,) Urn . . . sticky thread. . . .
PEPEL.
God's truth, I'm not afraid ! This very
moment — I'm ready to die. Take a knife, plunge
it into my heart. . . . I'll die — without a sound.
And gladly, too, for I should fall by a pure
hand. . . .
NATASHA .
(Going out.) Keep your soft soap for them
as likes it.
BOOBNOFF.
Um . . . sticky . . . sticky. . . .
NATASHA.
(By the passage door.) Don't forget, Andru-
ishka, about your wife. . . .
40
KLESSHTSH.
All right !
PEPEL.
There's a fine girl !
BOOBNOFF.
Ay, the girl's all right.
PEPEL.
Why's she so short with me ? Why ? Ah, well,
she's bound to come to grief here.
BOOBNOFF.
You'll bring her to grief. . . .
PEPEL.
What do you mean — I ? I'm sorry for her. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Like the wolf for the lamb. . . .
PEPEL.
You liar 1 I am right down sorry for her. . . .
She 'as a 'ard life 'ere. ... I see. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
Wait till Vassilisa spots you gabbing with
her. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Vassilisa? M'yes, she ain't one to let 'er own
go. ... She's a fierce woman. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 41
PEPEL.
(Lying on the planks.) Go to the devil . . .
yer croakers !
KLESSHTSH.
You'll see — wait a bit !
(LuKA from the kitchen, singing :)
Through the night we trudge along,
Dark as night is all around . . .
KLESSHTSH.
O Lord ! . . . another shouter. . . .
PEPEL.
I'm bored. . . . Why do I get this boredom?
All's going along well. Then all of a sudden,
yer kind of dry up and it all gets tiresome. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Tiresome ? Hum ....
PEPEL.
Ay — ay. . . .
LUKA.
(Sings :)
All the road is dark before. . . .
PEPEL.
Old man 1 Hi !
(LuKA appearing in the door.)
42 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
Call me?
PEPEL.
Don't sing !
LUKA.
You don't like it?
PEPEL.
When it is good singing, I like it. ...
LUKA.
That's to say, then, mine isn't good?
PEPEL.
You've hit it. . . .
LUKA.
There now ! I did think I could sing. That's
just always the way : a man he goes along
thinking now this is something I can do. And
suddenly folks seem not to care for it. ...
PEPEL.
(Smiling.} Yes, that's the way. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Say you're bored, and now you're laugh-
ing. . . .
PEPEL.
Let me alone, you crow. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 43
LUKA.
Who is it says they're bored?
PEPEL.
Me . . . here. . . .
(Re-enter the BARON.)
LUKA.
There now ! There's a girlie there in the
kitchen, sitting there, and reading a book, and
she's crying 1 That she is ! The tears are flow-
ing. ... I says to her, " Why, my pet, what is
it all, eh?" "Oh," she says, "it's so sad!"
"What is it," I says, "that's sad?" "Here,"
she says, " in the book." . . . And that's how
people pass their time, eh? It's all from this
boredom. . . .
THE BARON.
That's girl's a fool. . . .
PEPEL.
Baron ! Had your tea?
THE BARON.
Had it. ... What then?
PEPEL.
What d'you say — 'ud you like me to stand yer
half a bottle ?
44 THE LOWER DEPTHS
THE BARON.
What do you think ! . . . What then?
PEPEL.
Go down on all fours, and bark like a dog !
THE BARON.
Fool ! What are yer talking about ? Are yer
drunk ?
PEPEL.
Bark— go on ! That'll amuse me . . . you're
a gentleman. There was a time you thought
yourself better than your brother man . . . and
all the rest of it. . . .
THE BARON.
Well, what then?
PEPEL.
What ! Why now I make you bark lik« a dog,
and you've got to do it — are yer going to?
THE BARON.
And if I do. And where 's your gain if you
do know that I've fallen even below you? You
made me go an all fours when I was above you.
BOOBNOFF.
That's true !
LUKA.
It's true, and it's good. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 45
BOOBNOFF.
What was, was ; what's left's all nothing. . . .
There's no difference here. . . We're all of us
level ; nothing but the bare, naked man. . . .
LUKA.
That means all are equal. . . . But tell me,
dearie, have you been a Baron?
THE BARON.
What is it ? Is it a spectre ?
LUKA.
(Laughs.) Counts I've seen, and I've seen
princes . . . but a baron — the first that I ever
saw, and this only a damaged one.
PEPEL.
(Laughing.) That's up against you, Baron.
THE BARON.
We live and learn, Vassili. . . .
LUKA.
Hey— hey. . . . When I look around, my
lads. . . . Your way of life . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Our way of life is uproar commencin* from
daybreak. . . .
46 THE LOWER DEPTHS
THE BARON.
We've some of us lived better j . . . Yes ! I,
in my time, have lain in bed of a morning and
drunk my coffee . . . coffee !— with cream. . . .
Ay!
LUKA.
But all of us — are all men ! You can pretend
all you like, and give yourself all the airs, but
a man were you born, and a man you have to
die. . . . And I see, for all folks gets wiser and
busier . . . and though they live worse and
worse . . . they've the will to live better . . .
the stiff-necks I ...
THE BARON.
What are you, old 'un ? Where are you from ?
LUKA.
What ? I ?
THE BARON.
A tramp?
LUKA.
Tramps we are all. . . . And they say now, as
I'm told, this whole earth is a tramp in the skies.
THE BARON.
(Severely.) Maybe it is ; but — have you a pass-
port ?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 47
LUKA.
(After a slight pause.) And what are you,
then — an informer?
PEPEL.
(Delighted.) Had Mm, old 'un I How do you
feel now, Baron?
BOOBNOFF.
Um — yes, that was one for the gentleman. . . .
THE BARON.
(Taken aback.) What d'yer mean? . . .
Why, I was only joking, old man 1 I haven't got
any papers myself. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Now you're lying. . . .
THE BARON.
Oh, well . . . I've got some papers . . .
but none that are good for anything.
LUKA.
But those papers are all the same . . . they're
none of them good for anything. . . .
PEPEL.
Baron, let's go to the trakter. . . .
THE BARON.
Right ! Well, goodbye, old man . . . you're
a rascal 1
48 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
Tell me who isn't, friend. . . .
PEPEL.
(By passage door.} Well, come along !
(Goes out, the BARON rapidly following.)
LUKA.
Is it true that that man was a Baron?
BOOBNOFF.
Who can say? A gentleman 'e 'as been. . . .
It comes out every now and then. You can see
he hasn't got rid of it yet.
LUKA.
Ay, to be sure, this gentility it's like the small-
pox ... a man may get over it, but it leaves
its marks. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
He's right enough though . . . every now and
then breaks out a bit ... like he did about
your passport.
(ALYOSHKA enters, drunk, with a concer-
tina, whistling.)
ALYOSHKA.
Hey, boys I
BOOBNOFF.
What are you bawling for?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 49
ALYOSHKA.
I beg pardon . . . ask your forgiveness ! I'm
a well-bred man. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
On another jag? /
ALYOSHKA.
Many as you like ! This moment the Inspector
Myedvyedyeff 'e's just thrown me out of the
station ; 'e said : "See," says he, " that you keep
out of the streets "... that's all. . . .1 am a
man of character. . . . My master 'e sneers at
me. What is 'e 'imself — my master? Fi-i ! 'E's an
idiot — a drunkard, my master is ! ... But I'm
just such a man that wants nothing ! I wish for
nothing and — that's flat ! You say — here's twenty
roubles ! But I — I don't want nothing. A
straight chap like me to 'ave my mate set over
me, and a drunkard. . . . Won't stand it, won't
'ave it !
(NASTYA comes out of the kitchen.)
'Ere's a million — d-d -don't want it.
(NASTYA stands in the door shaking her
head at ALYOSHKA.)
LUKA.
(Good-naturedly.) Ay, lad, you've got a bit
mixed up. ...
4
50 THE LOWER DEPTHS
BOOBNOFF.
What fools men are ! . . .
ALYOSHKA.
(Lying on the floor.) Well, eat me. For I —
I want nothing. I am a wretched man. Show
me how I'm worse — why am I worse than others ?
Show me? MyedvyedyefT says, "Keep off the
streets or I'll bash in your mug." And I — I
go and lie down right in the middle of the street
— crush me. Nothing — I want nothing ! . . .
NASTYA.
Poor fellow . . . such a kid . . . and now
already . . . come to this. . . .
ALYOSHKA.
(On his knees before her.} Lady . . .
me'mselle ! Parle franc, ais price -current ! Been
on the spree. . . .
NASTYA.
(In a loud whisper.} Vassilisa !
(VASSILISA opening the door sharply.}
VASSILISA.
(To ALYOSHKA.) You here again?
ALYOSHKA.
Good -day . . . don't be 'arsh. . . .
VASSILISA.
Puppy, I told you to keep your carcase out of
here . . . and now you've come back I
THE LOWER DEPTHS 51
ALYOSHKA.
Vassilisa Karpovna . . . would you like me to
play you a funeral march?
VASSILISA.
(Seizing him by the shoulder .) Clear out !
ALYOSHKA.
Stop ! That's not the way I Funeral march
. . .just learnt it ! Real music. . . . Stop !
that's not the way !
VASSILISA.
I'll teach you . . . what's the way. . . . I'll
'ave the 'ole street on you . . . you dirty tattler
. . . you cub, to dare go tattling about me. . . .
ALYOSHKA.
Well, I'm going. . . .
VASSILISA.
(To BOOBNOFF.) Never you let him set foot
in 'ere. D'you hear me?
BOOBNOFF.
I aint' your watchman here. . . .
VASSILISA.
It's nothing to me what you are ! You're here
out of charity — don't forget it. How much do
you owe me?
52 THE LOWER DEPTHS
BOOBNOFF.
(Calmly.) Never reckoned. . . .
VASSILISA.
I'll reckon for you !
ALYOSHKA.
(Opens door and shouts out.) Vassilisa
Karpovna I I'm not afraid of you — n-n-not
afraid !
(Disappears.)
(LUKA laughs.)
VASSILISA.
Well, what are you?
LUKA.
A wayfarer ... a bird of passage. . . .
VASSILISA.
For the night or to stop?
LUKA.
I'll look round. . . .
VASSILISA.
Passport !
LUKA.
Well, yes. . . .
VASSILISA.
Come on I
THE LOWER DEPTHS 53
LUKA.
I'll fetch it ... it'll arrive with the rest of
my luggage.
VASSILISA.
A bird of passage ... eh? A jail-bird 'ud
be nearer the truth. . . .
LUKA.
(With a sigh.) Um, you're not gentle,
mother. . . .
(VASSILISA goes to the door of PEPEL'S
room; ALYOSHKA looks out from the
kitchen.)
ALYOSHKA.
(Whispering.) Has she gone, eh?
VASSILISA.
(Turning on him.) You still here?
(ALYOSHKA gives a whistle and disappears.)
(NASTYA and LUKA laugh.)
BOOBNOFF.
(To VASSILISA.) 'E ain't there. . . .
VASSILISA.
Who?
BOOBNOFF.
Vaska .
54 THE LOWER DEPTHS
VASSILISA.
Did I ask if he was?
BOOBNOFF.
I saw you was looking all about. . . .
VASSILISA.
I was looking if things was straight, d'yer
see ? Why's the room not swept out yet ? 'Ow
often have I told you it's to be kept clean ?
BOOBNOFF.
It's the actor's turn. . . .
VASSILISA.
Don't care whose turn. Suppose the inspectors
come along and put a fine on me . . . then
it's out you get, all of you I
BOOBNOFF.
(Calmly.) Then what will you live by?
VASSILISA.
I'll have none of this litter. (Goes into the
kitchen. To NASTYA.) What's up with you?
What's your face all swelled up for? Clean the
floor I Natasha — have you seen her? 'As she
been here?
NASTYA.
Don't know . . . 'aven't seen her.
VASSILISA.
And he . . has he been home?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 55
BOOBNOFF.
Vassilisi? Yes . . . Natasha, she was here
talking to Klesshtsh, she was. . . .
VASSILISA.
Did I ask you who she was talking to? Dirt
everywhere . . . filth ! Ah, yes — pigs 1 Clean
it all up ... d'you hear !
(Goes out rapidly.}
BOOBNOFF.
That's a wild beast of a woman !
LUKA.
She's a serious lady. . . . ,
NASTYA.
It's the life that's made her a beast. . . .
Any one as was tied to a husband like
hers . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Come, she don't let the tyin* worry her. . . .
LUKA.
Does she always rage around like that ?
BOOBNOFF.
Always. . . . Then, you see, she came after
'er lover, and 'e wasn't 'ere.
56 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
And that put her out, of course. Oh-ho-ho !
How all sorts of people on this earth is putting
things in order ! And with all sorts of punish-
ments, all punishing one another . . . and yet
there's no order in life . . . and there's no
cleanness .
BOOBNOFF.
Everybody likes things in order . . . but some
'asn't brains enough. Still, for this cleaning-up—
Nastya . . . you see to it. . . .
NASTYA.
I see myself ! D'yer think I'm yer servant?
(After a silence.) I shall get drunk to-day I
BOOBNOFF.
That's—flat !
LUKA.
Why, what d'you want to drink for, girlie ?
A moment back you were crying ; now you say
"I'll get drunk ! "
NASTYA .
(Loud.) I'll drink, and then I'll cry again
. . . and that's all !
BOOBNOFF.
It's not much.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 57
LUKA.
But what for? — tell me that. Every pimple has
a reason for it. ...
(NASTYA remains silent, shaking her head.}
So ... ah -ha 1 the race of men 1 What's
to be made of it? ... Well, then, say that I
was to sweep up . Where do you keep the broom ?
BOOBNOFF.
Behind the door in the passage. . . .
(LuKA goes into the passage.)
Nastya I
NASTYA.
Well?
BOOBNOFF.
Why did Vassilisa go for Alyoshka?
NASTYA.
'E said that Vaska was sick of 'er, and wanted
to chuck 'er . . . and take on with Natasha.
... I shall leave here . . . and go somewhere
else. . . .
BOOBNOOF.
Why ? Where ?
NASTYA.
I'm sick of it. . . . I'm not wanted here.
58 THE LOWER DEPTHS
BOOBNOOF.
You're not wanted anywhere . . . and none
of all the people on earth — there's none of 'em
wanted. . . .
(NASTYA shakes her head. Gets up, and
goes slowly out into the passage.)
(MYEDVYEDYEFF comes in; LUKA after him
with a broom.)
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Seems to me I don't know you. . . .
LUKA.
And all the other people, do you know them
all?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
I have to know every one in my ward . . . but
here's you — I don't know
LUKA.
Now the cause of that, daddy, is that the whole
world doesn't lie in your ward . . . there's just a
leetle piece outside of it. . . .
(Goes into kitchen.)
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Over to BOOBNOFF.) It's true my ward's not
a big one . . . but it's worse than the big ones
. . . just now, as I was comin* off duty I 'ad to
run in Alyoshka, the bootmaker. . . . 'E was
THE LOWER DEPTHS 59
right in the middle of the road, with his con-
certina, and bellowin' " I want nothing — I want
nothing I " Horses goin' and all the traffic — might
get run over and so on. ... 'E's a wild Jad
... so I just took him by the collar. Very fond
of giving trouble. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
'Er yer comin' to play draughts to-night?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Coming? M-yes. . . . What about Vaska?
BOOBNOFF.
Nothing . . . same as usual. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Means . . . he's getting along? . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Why shouldn't he get along? He's able to get
along.
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Doubtfully.) Able to?
(LuKA goes into the passage with a bucket
in his hand.}
M-yes . . . there's a sort of talk . . . about
Vaska . . . ain't yer heard?
60 THE LOWER DEPTHS
BOOBNOFF.
I've 'card all sorts of talk. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
But about Vaska? Ain't yer noticed?
BOOBNOFF.
What?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Why ... in general. . . . Maybe yer know
and you're lying? Why everybody knows. . . .
(Sternly.) Let's 'ave no lies, brother !
BOOBNOFF.
What should I lie for ?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
So ... so ... ah, come I They say that
Vaska and Vassilisa . . . what's it to me? I am
not her father, I'm her uncle. ... It can't make
me look silly. ...
(KVASHNYA comes in.)
But there's a kind of people sprung up who wants
to make every one look silly. . . . Ah, so there
you are. . . .
KVASHNYA.
BoobnofT 1 Hey, my gallant sentinel 1 Again
in the market he asked me to marry him. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 61
BOOBNOFF.
Well, and what then ? 'E's got money, and
'e's a sturdy fellow yet. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
What, I ? Ho-ho !
KVASHNYA.
You old grizzle pate ! Let be, it's my sore
point. I've tried it once, duckie — for a woman
to marry it's like throwin' yerself down a 'ole
in the ice — when you've done it once, yer never
forget it. ...
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Now wait a bit ... there are husbands of
all sorts.
KVASHNYA.
I'm always one and the same. When my beloved
old man breathed his last, may I never 'ave a
roof over my 'ead, if I didn't just sit up for joy
a whole day and night : sat and simply couldn't
believe in my happiness. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
If your 'usband beat yer . . . why, you should
have complained to the police. . . .
KVASHNYA.
I complained to God for seven years ... it
'elped none 1
62 THE LOWER DEPTHS
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Nowadays it's forbidden to beat your wife . . .
all in these days is strict, according to law . . .
and order ! No one is to be beaten wrongfully,
all the beating's to be done to keep order.
(LUKA leads in ANNA.)
LUKA.
Slow but sure ... so here we are. Fancy
leaving her to go alone when she's so weak?
Which is your place?
ANNA.
(Pointing.) Thanks, dear old man. . . .
KVASHNYA.
She's got a 'usband . . . look !
LUKA.
The poor soul's in quite a weak state. . . .
She creeps along the passage, feeling for the
walls, and groaning. Why do yer leave 'er by
'erself?
KVASHNYA.
'Adn't noticed, daddy — pardon us ! 'Er maid,
you see, 'as just gone out for a stroll. . . .
LUKA.
So now . . . you're making" fun . . . but 'ow
can one neglect a 'uman creature so ? Whoever
it is, all of us is of value. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 63
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Supervision there must be ! Suddenly — say she
dies? Then there's no end of bother. . . .
Watch must be kept !
LUKA.
True, Mr. Sergeant. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
M-yes . . . though I'm . . . I'm not quite a
sergeant yet. . . .
LUKA.
Not ? The bearing's so very heroic !
(Noise and scuffling in the passage. Loud
cries.)
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Oh, not — not a row?
BOOBNOFF.
Sounds like it. ...
KVASHNYA.
Go and look.
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
There, I've got to go. . . . Ah, the service I
And why part people when they fight ? They'll
64 THE LOWER DEPTHS
stop of themselves . . . yer bound to stop fight-
ing ... if they was left to fight it out in peace
. . . why, they'd fight less, because they'd not
forget it so easy. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
(Getting off his planks.) Must speak to your
superiors about it. ...
(KOSTOLOFF cries out, throwing open the
door.)
KOSTOLOFF.
Abraham ! Come . . . Vassilisa, Natasha
. . . she's killing her . . . come !
(KVASHNYA, MYEDVYEDYEFF, BOOBNOFF
rush into the passage. LUKA looks after
them, shaking his head.)
ANNA.
O Lord ! . . . poor little Natasha 1
LUKA.
Who is it fighting?
ANNA.
The mistress . . . with her sister.
LUKA.
(Coming to ANNA.) What's to be done?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 65
ANNA.
Well, they've both food enough . . . and
health. . . .
LUKA.
And you — what is your name ?
ANNA.
Anna. ... It seems to me . . . you look
like my father . . . my dear father . . . gentle
like him . . . and mild. . . .
LUKA.
It's the knocks I've 'ad ; they've made me
gentle. . . . (Laughs with a grating laugh.}
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
THE SECOND ACT
THE SECOND ACT ,
SCENE. — Same scene. Night.
(On the planks round about the stove SATINE,
BARON, WHEN, and the TARTAR are
playing at cards. KLESSHTSH and the
ACTOR are watching the game. BOOB-
NOFF, on his planks, is playing draughts
with MYEDVYEDYEFF. LUKA is seated on
a stool by ANNA'S bed. The shelter is
lighted by two lamps: one on the wall
by the card-players, the other on BOOB-
NOFF'S planks.
THE TARTAR.
One more game — then I stop. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
When ! Sing ! (He sings:)
The sun it rises and it sets.
WHEN.
(Harmonising :)
In my prison darkness reigns. . . .
THE TARTAR.
(To SATINE.) Shuffle ! Shuffle well ! We
know you, yer know. . . .
60
70 THE LOWER DEPTHS
WHEN and BOOBNOFF.
(Together :)
Day and night the warders go,
Pacing underneath my window.
ANNA.
Yells . . . abuse . . . nothing else have I
seen . . . nothing besides. . . .
LuKA.
There, missus, don't fret !
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Look out, where are yer moving?
BOOBNOFF.
Ah ! yes, yes, yes. . . .
THE TARTAR.
(Threatening SATINE with his fist.} Why er
yer trying to hide a card ? I see yer . . . yer
beauty 1
WHEN.
Chuck it, Hassan ! They're sure to skin us.
. . . Boobnoff, strike up !
ANNA.
I can't remember when I wasn't hungry. . . .
I've trembled all my life. . . . Dreaded. ... I
shouldn't get no more to eat . . . been in rags
all my life ... all my wretched life . . .
why, why ?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 71
LUKA.
There, there, darling ! You're tired. Never
mind.
THE ACTOR.
(To WHEN.) Play the Knave— the Knave,
damn yer 1
f
THE BARON.
We 'ave the King.
KLESSHTSH .
They win every time.
SATINE.
It's a way er 'ave. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Crown him !
BOOBNOFF.
And I ... um-m. . . .
ANNA .
I'm dying. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
Just look at 'em ! Prince, you chuck it !
Chuck it, I tell yer !
THE ACTOR.
You let him alone,
72 THE LOWER DEPTHS
THE BARON.
Look out, Andruiska, that I don't give you a
damned hiding !
THE TARTAR.
One game more. The pitcher goes to the
well so often it gets broken at last.
(KLESSHTSH, with a shake of his head,
moves over to BOOBNOFF.)
ANNA.
I'm always thinking. Oh ! Lord, can it be
that in the other world, too, I shall have to
suffer? Not there as well?
LUKA.
There won't be nothing ! Lie and listen !
Nothing ! You'll have rest there. ... A little
more patience. . . . All, dearie, they all suffer
. . . each in his own way. . . . (Gets up with
quick steps.)
(Goes into the kitchen.)
BOOBNOFF.
(Sings:)
Take your gun, and have some fun. . . .
WHEN.
I'm not going to run away. . . .
BOTH.
(Together :)
Longing, longing to be free,
But my chains I cannot break. , . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 73
THE TARTAR.
(Shouts out.) That card was in your sleeve.
THE BARON.
(Confused.) Do you want me to ram it under
your nose?
THE ACTOR.
(Positively.) Prince, you're wrong . . .
never, never in this world. . . .
THE TARTAR.
Saw it ! Sharper I I'll play no more !
SATINE.
(Gathering up the cards.) Hassan, go and
shake yourself . . . yer know we were sharpers.
Then why did yer play with us?
THE BARON.
I've won forty kopyeks, and you shriek as if
you were beggared . . . come, one more I
THE TARTAR.
(Hotly.) Then play straight.
SATINE.
What for?
THE TARTAR.
How " What for?"
SATINE.
Just so ... what for?
74 THE LOWER DEPTHS
THE TARTAR.
Well, don't yer know?
SATINE.
I don't know. Der you?
(The TARTAR spits viciously. All laugh at
him.)
WHEN.
(Good-naturedly.) You're green, Hassan !
Can't you see 1 If they was to begin living
honestly, why, in three days they'd starve. . . .
THE TARTAR.
That's nothing to me ! They must live
honestly !
WHEN.
Keep it now ! Better go and 'ave some tea
. . . Boobnoff I And . . .
Oh, my chains, my heavy chains. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Oh, my heavy clanking chains. . . .
WHEN.
Come along, Hassanka ! (Goes out singing.)
Tease me not, and I'll not beat yer. . . .
(TARTAR threatens the BARON with his fist,
and goes out after his companion.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 75
SATINE.
(Smiling to BARON.) You, your mightiness,
you came another cropper ! You've had an edu-
cation, but yer can't palm a card. . . .
THE BARON.
(Hands apart.) Devil knows how it hap-
pened. . . .
THE ACTOR.
No talent ... no belief in yourself . . .
without that no good ever . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
I've one King . . . and you've two . . .
m-yes !
BOOBNOFF.
One's good enough, if he's a brainy one . . .
on yer go !
KLESSHTSH.
Er yer winning, Abra'm Ivanitich?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
None of your business . . . d'yer see ? So
shut yer mouth. . . .
SATINE.
Fifty -three kopyeks in.
THE ACTOR.
Three kopyeks for me . . . though what do
I want with three kopyeks ?
76 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
(Coming out of kitchen.} Well, so youVe
cleared out the Tartar? Going to have a glass
now?
THE BARON.
Come along with us.
SATINE.
Let's see what yer like drunk.
LUKA.
No better than I am sober.
THE ACTOR.
Come along, old man. . . . I'll recite to
yer. . . .
LUKA.
What ever's that?
THE ACTOR.
Verses — understand ?
LUKA.
Verses ! What do I want with verses ?
THE ACTOR.
They're amusing . . . sometimes they're
sad. . . .
SATINE.
Hi, recitationist, er yer coming?
(Goes out with BARON.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 77
THE ACTOR.
Coming. . . . I'll catch yer up ! Now, for
instance, here's a bit out of one poem, old man.
. . . The beginning I've forgotten . . . clean
forgotten 1 ... (Strikes his forehead.)
BOOBNOFF.
There ! I've taken yer king ... on you go 1
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
yEDVYEDYEFF.
If I'd gone there, you'd 'ave 'ad 'im.
THE ACTOR.
In the past, before I was poisoned with alcohol,
I had a fine study, old man. . . . But now you
see . . . It's all up, brother 1 All up with me.
I used to give that poem with enormous success
. . . thunder of applause. You — you don't know
how it feels — applause . . . why, brother, it's like
vodka I . . .I'd come on ... stand like this
. . . stand like this and . . . (Silence.) Can't
remember a thing . . . not a word . . . can't
remember 1 Used to love that piece : in a bad
way, eh, old 'un?
LuKA.
There can't be no good in fergettin' what yer
loved. Where yer love there's all yer soul.
THE ACTOR.
I've drunk my soul, old man. . . . I'm lost,
brother. . . . Lost how? Hadn't no belief
. I'm done with.
78 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
No I Why? You . . . you can be cured !
In these days they cure people of drunkenness —
fact 1 Cure them, brother, fer no thin'. . . .
There's a 'ospital been built for drunkards . . .
and they cure 'em fer nothin'. . . . It's recig-
nised, yer see, that a drunkard's a man, too,
and when 'e wants to be cured, they rejoice at
'im ! So stir up and be off.
THE ACTOR.
(Reflectively.) Where? Where is it?
LUKA.
Well, it's . . . it's in a certain town . . .
what d'yer call it 1 It's just a name like 1 ...
Now you just do this : be gettin' ready. . . .
Control yourself 1 ... Take yerself in hand, and
— wait. . . . And then — get cured . . . and
begin life all over again . . . sounds good,
brother, all over again? Make your mind up,
and it's done.
THE ACTOR.
(Smiling.) Over again . . . from the begin-
ning . . . that's fine . . . m-yes. . . .
All over again? (Laughs.) Um. . . . Yes I
Can't? I really can, eh?
LUKA.
Can yer? Anything a man can do ... if 'e
makes up his mind to do it. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 79
THE ACTOR.
(Suddenly, as if awakened.) You're a crank.
By-bye for the present ! (Whistles.) Old boy
— goodbye to yer.
(Goes out.)
ANNA.
Gran 'pa, darling 1
LUKA.
What, dearie?
ANNA.
Talk to me. . . .
LUKA.
(Close to her.) Come now, let's talk. . . .
(KLESSHTSH looks round, silently comes
towards his wife, looks at her, makes
some movements with his hands, as
though wishing to speak.)
What's up, comrade?
KLESSHTSH.
(In a low voice.) Nothing. . . .
(Goes slowly to passage door, stands in it
for a few seconds—and goes out.)
LUKA.
(Following him with his eyes.) Takes it to
heart, does your old man.
80 THE LOWER DEPTHS
ANNA.
He's nothing now to me.
LUKA.
Did fe beat yer?
ANNA.
Worse than that. ... I'm dyin' through
'im. .
BOOBNOFF.
My wife . . . she 'ad a lover — played draughts
finely — a thorough scoundrel. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Um-m. . . .
ANNA.
Dear -gran'pa 1 Talk to me, dearie. ... I
can't breathe.
LUKA.
That's nothing ! Comes before death, lovie.
. . . Just hope. . . . You're goin' to die, and
then you'll be at peace ; there'll be nothing more
that yer need fear — nothing ! Calm, peace. . . .
Don't move ! Death — it settles all. . . It's very
tender with us. ... You die, you rest, that's to
say . . . that's what it is, pet I Because — for
can a man find rest here?
(PEPEL comes in. He is slightly drunk,
dishevelled, sullen. Sits on planks
by door, silent without moving.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 81
ANNA.
If there too — there's suffering ?
LUKA.
There won't be anything ! Nothing ! Trust
me ! Rest — and nothing more ! They'll lead you
up to God, and they'll say, " Lord, look here,
behold, here is Thy servant, Anna." . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Severely.) How do you know what they say
up there ? I like that ....
(At the sound of MYEDVYEDYEFF'S voice,
PEPEL lifts up his head and listens.}
LUKA.
It's just like this, that I do know, Mr. Ser-
geant. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Conciliatory.) M — yes ! I don't see myself
. . . though I'm not yet exactly a sergeant.
BOOBNOFF.
I take two. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
O Lord ... do go ahead.
LUKA.
And the Lord, 'E'll look at you mildly and
fondly, and He'll say, " I know that same Anna."
6
82 THE LOWER DEPTHS
Then He'll say, " Take her, that Anna, into Para-
dise. Let 'er be at peace . . . for I know — 'er
life it was very hard . . . she's very weary.
. . . Give rest unto Anna."
ANNA.
(Breathing hard.} Uncle . . . you are such
a dear ! If it is so ... if there's just rest
. . . and to feel nothing more. . . .
LUKA.
There won't be ! There won't be anything !
Trust me ! Die joyfully, and no worry. . . .
I tell you, Death it's to us ... like a mother
with her little children.
ANNA.
Yet ... I may ... I may get well ?
LUKA.
What for? For fresh suffering?
ANNA.
But ... to live a little . . . just a wee bit
more. If there's no suffering I could endure a
little longer. I could.
LUKA.
There'll be nothing more. . . . It's shnple. . . .
PEPEL.
(Rising.) May be ... and may not be.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 83
ANNA.
(Frightened.} Oh, Lord 1 ...
LUKA.
Ah, dearie. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Who's that bellowing ?
PEPEL.
Me I What of it ?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
You shouldn't bellow, that's what. Folk should
bear themselves quietly.
PEPEL.
Ah . . . yer block ! You're a fine uncle . . .
ho — ho 1
LUKA.
(To PEPEL in a Low tone.) Please now don't
shout 1 A woman's dying here . . . don't dis-
turb 'er I
PEPEL.
I respect you, gran'pa ! You're a brick, you
are ! You're a good liar . . . you put things
nicely ! Lying's no harm . . . there's so little
that's cheering in the world !
BOOBNOFF.
What ! Is the woman really dyin' ?
84 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
Ay, there's no joke about it. ...
BOOBNOFF.
Shan't have no more coughing then. . . . Most
disturbin' 'er cough was. ... I take two. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Ah, I'm done for — I'm done for I
PEPEL.
Abraham !
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Don't call me Abraham. . . .
PEPEL.
Abramka ! Is Natasha ill ?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
What's that to you ?
PEPEL.
I want to know. Was it a bad beating Vassilisa
gave her ?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
And that's none of your business ! It's a family
matter. . . . Who do yer think yer are?
PEPEL.
Don't matter who I am . . . but if I choose,
you'll never see Natasha again !
THE LOWER DEPTHS 85
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Leaving the game.} What d'yer say? Who
are yer talkin' of? D'yer think my niece? . . .
Ah, yer robber 1
PEPEL.
A robber you never could catch. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Wait 1 I'll catch yer . . . you see. . . .
PEPEL.
Catch me — and I'd flog the whole nest of yer.
D'yer think I'd keep quiet before the beak?
Expect a wolf to howl ! They say, " Who taughft
yer to rob, and showed yer the cribs? " Mikhail
Kostoloff and his wife 1 " Who was yer fence? "
Mikhail Kostoloff and his wife I
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Lies ! They won't believe yer !
PEPEL.
Yes, they will, for it's truth I And I'll give
you a twist ... ha I I'll sink the whole lot
of yer, yer devils — you see 1
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Shaking.) Lies I And . . . lies I And . . .
what 'arm 'ave I done to you? Yer scabby
cur I ...
PEPEL.
And what good 'ave yer done to me?
86 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
Ri-ight there !
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(To LUKA.) What er you . . . croaking for?
Is this any of your business ? This is a family
matter I
BOOBNOFF.
(To LUKA.) Let be I Not ours to meddle in.
LUKA.
(Peaceably.) I said nothing ! I only say that
if one man 'asn't done good to another, 'e 'asn't
done well. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Not understanding.) 'Ere we are . . . and
we all know one another. . . . But who are you,
pray?
(Makes an angry grimace and goes out.)
LUKA.
The gentleman's angry. . . . Oh -ho, brothers,
things here ... I see things here in a tangle !
PEPEL .
'E's gone to whine to Vassilisa. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
You're foolish, Vassili. Much good yer bold-
ness has done yer. . . . Boldness is all right in
its place . . . but 'ere it cuts no figure. . . .
They'll slice yer 'ead off alive. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 87
PEPEL.
N-no, they won't ! Us Yaroslaff boys — you
don't catch us napping ... if it's war we shall
fight. . . .
LUKA.
But I tell you truly, lad, you get out of this
house . . . get clear of it. . . .
PEPEL.
Where to? You tell me that. . . .
LUKA.
Go ... to Siberia. . . .
PEPEL.
Ho -ho. When I go to Siberia, I mean to go
at the charge of the Crown. . . .
LUKA.
Now listen to me — you go there ! There you
can make your own way ... you're just the kind
for there !
PEPEL.
The way is marked out for me. My father
passed his whole life in prison, and 'e told me
to. Why, when I was a little boy they called me
thief — and thief's son.
LUKA.
But it's a grand country— Siberia I A golden
country. 'Oo 'as the might 'as the right.
88 THE LOWER DEPTHS
PEPEL.
Old boy, why are you always lying?
LUKA.
What's that ?
PEPEL .
Deaf ? .Why do yer lie, I ask ?
LUKA.
In what do yer mean I lie ?
PEPEL .
In all . . . you say it's good there, good here
. . . you're plainly lying 1 What's it for?
LUKA.
You take my word and go there, and see fer
yerself. You'll say thanks. . . . What's the
good of loafing here ? And . . . why are yer so
mad after the truth? . . . Think a bit ! The
same truth might cut like a razor. . . .
PEPEL.
I don't care ! If it's a razor, it's a razor. . . .
LUKA.
Oh; you're crazy ! Why go and destroy
yerself ?
BOOBNOFF.
What is it that you two are jawing about ?
I don't know ! What sort of a truth, Vaska,
THE LOWER DEPTHS 89
d'yer want? And why? Yer know the truth
about yerself ... ay, and every one knows
it. ...
PEPEL.
Hold on, stop yer croaking I I want 'im to
tell me . . . listen, old man : is there a God?
(LuKA gives a silent smile.)
Say now, is there?
BOOBNOFF.
People just live . . . like shavings on a
stream ... a house is built . . . and the
shavings ... off they floats 1 ...
LUKA.
(In a, low voice.) If you believe it — there is ;
if you don't believe it, there's not . . . that
which yer believe in, that is. ...
(PEPEL looks at the old man fixedly and
in surprise.)
BOOBNOFF.
Shall we go and have some tea . . . come on
to the trakteer ? Eh ?
LUKA.
(To PEPEL.) What are you looking at?
PEPEL.
Just so. ... Now wait. . . . Then that
means .
90 THE LOWER DEPTHS
BOOBNOFF.
Then I'll go alone.
(Goes to door, encounters VASSILISA.)
PEPEL.
Therefore . . . you. . . .
VASSILISA.
(To BOOBNOFF.) Nastya at home?
BOOBNOFF.
No.
(Goes out.)
PEPEL.
Ah . . . you're there. . . .
VASSILISA.
(Over to ANNA.) Still alive?
LUKA.
Don't disturb 'er.
VASSILISA.
What er yer hanging about here for ?
LUKA.
I'll go ... if yer want me to. ...
VASSILISA.
(Towards the door of PEPEL'S room.) Vassili I
I've somethin' to say ter you. . . .
(LUKA goes to the passage door, opens it,
and shuts it loudly. Then he clambers
on to the planks, and from there on to
the stove.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 91
VASSILISA.
(From PEPEL'S room.} Vaska . . . come
here !
PEPEL.
I'm not coming ... I don't mean to. ...
VASSILISA.
Ah . . . what's wrong? What's annoyin* yer ?
PEPEL.
I'm bored . . . sick of the whole rigmarole.
VASSILISA.
And ... of me?
PEPEL.
And of you. . . .
(VASSILISA draws her handkerchief tight
over her chest, pressing against it her
hands. Goes towards ANNA, looks
carefully behind the curtains, and re-
turns to PEPEL.)
Well ... out with it. ...
VASSILISA.
Out with what? Can't force people to be kind
. . . and it ain't in me to beg for kindness.
. . . Thank you for the truth. . . .
PEPEL.
What truth?
92 THE LOWER DEPTHS
VASSILISA.
That I'm a bore to you ... or isn't it the
truth?
(PEPEL looks at her in silence. She turns
to him.}
What er yer staring at? Don't yer know me?
PEPEL.
(With a sigh.) You're beautiful, Vassilisa (she
.puts her hand on his shoulder, but he shakes it
off} — but my 'eart it was never yours. . . . And
I lived with you, and the rest of it ... and
I've never really liked yer. . . .
VASSILISA.
So-o . . . well ?
PEPEL.
Well, we've nothing to talk about 1 Nothing at
all ! Get away from me ! . . .
VASSILISA.
You fancy some one else?
PEPEL.
Not your business. ... If it was so it's not
you I'd consult.
VASSILISA.
That's a pity. . . . P'raps I might arrange
things.
THE LOWER DEPTHS
93
PEPEL.
(Suspiciously.)
VASSILISA.
You know
What d'yer say?
how to conceal things.
Vassili
I'm a straight chap.
I'll hide nothing
you've dealt
(Lower.)
with me
shabby
a whip
sudden
for no reason you've laid it on with
said yer loved me, and all of a
PEPEL.
'Twasn't sudden .
there's no soul in you, woman ... we are
beasts. . . . We must be ... we must be
trained . . . and what 'ave you trained me to ?
. . for a long time .
you, woman ... we
VASSILISA.
What was it over ? . . . I know a man can't
help 'is own will . . . yer love me no more . . .
all right. . . .
PEPEL.
That's it, it's at an end. We part peaceably,
without no rows . . . the proper way !
VASSILISA.
No, wait now ! It's this. . . . When we came
together I banked on you to drag me out of all
this nastiness — to free me from my 'usband, my
uncle . . . from all this life . . . and p'raps it
wasn't you, Vaska, that I loved . . . but my hope
94 THE LOWER DEPTHS
... it was that thought of you I loved. . . .
D'you follow ? I expected you to pull me
out. . . .
PEPEL.
You aren't a nail, I — ain't a pincers . . .
you've wits enough . . . and you're — wily !
VASSILISA.
(Coming close to him.) Vaska I Come, now
. . . let's 'elp one another. . . .
PEPEL.
'Ow?
VASSILISA.
(Low and forcible.) My sister . . . she's
taken yer fancy, I know. . . .
PEPEL.
And that's why you beat her, you savage 1
Vassilisa, look 'ere 1 Don't dare to lay a finger
on 'er.
VASSILISA.
Stop now ! Don't get hot ! It can all be done
quietly and well. D'yer wish — to marry 'er? I'll
give yer money with 'er . . . three hundred solid
roubles I If I can afford it, more. . . .
PEPEL.
(Coming up to her.) Stop . . . why is it?
What's it for?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 95
VASSILISA.
Rid me . . . from my 'usband. Relieve me
of that millstone. . . .
PEPEL.
(Whistling softly.} So now we've got to it.
Oh ho -ho ! A very crafty notion . . . get your
'usband in his grave, your lover doin' time, whilst
you ...
VASSILISA.
Vaska ! Why doin' time ? You won't yerself
| . ; . get some of yer pals ! Suppose it was
yerself, who's to know ? Natasha . . . think
now ! You'll 'ave money . . . you can g"o any-
where ... set me free for ever, then, too, the
sister, she won't be round me, that's good fer
'er. The sight of 'er's bad for me . . . on ac-
count of you I get spiteful . . . arid I can't hold
it in. . . .1 torment the girl, beat her . . .
beat her so ... that myself I can cry with pity
for her . . . yet I beat her. And — I will beat
her I
PEPEL.
You savage ! Do yer brag of yer savageness?
VASSILISA.
I don't brag — I speak truth. Think now, Vaska.
Twice through my 'usband 'ave you gone to jail
. . . through 'is avarice. . . . 'E's glued to me
like a limpet . . . four whole years I And what
sort of a 'usband d'yer call 'im? 'E scolds
96 THE LOWER DEPTHS
Natasha, torments her, calls 'er a beggar ! To
every one 'e's just — poison. . . .
PEPEL.
You do yarn cleverly. . . .
VASSILISA.
All I say's above board. . . . It's only a fool
that won't see what I want.
(KOSTOLOFF enters cautiously and steals
forward.}
PEPEL.
(To VASSILISA.) Oh— get away !
VASSILISA.
Think it over ! (Sees husband.} What, you?
Er yer followin' me?
(PEPEL leaps up and eyes KOSTOLOFF
savagely.}
KOSTOLOFF.
It's me . . . me ! You're here — by your-
selves ! Ah — ah. . . . You're . . . having a talk .
(Suddenly stamping with his feet and shouting
out.} Vaska . . . you devil ! Beggar I Hag !
(Startled at his own cries, met by silence and
immobility.} I ask pardon. . . . Here again,
Vassilisa, you lead me into sin. . . . Been every-
where hunting fer yer. ... (In a scream.} It's
bedtime ! You've forgotten to fill the lamps . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 97
you, you . . . beggar . . . sow. . . . (Points
at her with trembling hands.)
(VASSILISA slowly goes to passage door,
looking round at PEPEL.)
PEPEL.
(To KOSTOLOFF.) Get out of here . . . clear
out. ...
KOSTOLOFF.
(Yells.) I'm the master I Clear out yourself,
thief !
PEPEL.
(Sullenly.) Be off, Mikhail 1 ...
KOSTOLOFF.
You dare to — I'll show you. ... I tell
you. . . .
(PEPEL seizes him by the collar and shakes
him. A noise is heard from the stove
and a loud yawning. PEPEL releases
KOSTOLOFF, who runs into the passage.)
PEPEL.
(Springing on to the planks.) Who's there
... on that stove?
LUKA.
(Raising his head.) Eh?
PEPEL.
You?
98 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
Me . . . me myself. ... Of Lord Jesus
Christ.
PEPEL.
(Closes the passage door, feels for the bolt
and can't find it.) The devils I ... Old man,
get down I
LUKA.
All ri-ight . . . getting down. . . .
PEPEL.
(Menacingly.) Why did yer get on that stove?
LUKA.
Where 'ud yer 'ave me get?
PEPEL.
Yer made as you'd gone in the passage.
LUKA.
In the passage, comrade, it's cold for an old
man.
PEPEL.
You . . . heard?
LUKA.
Ay — heard . How not to hear ? Ud yer 'ave
me deaf? Ah, my lad, your happiness is coming
to yer . . .it's happiness that's coming to yer.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 99
PEPEL.
(Suspiciously.) What 'appiness? In what
way?
LUKA.
Why, in the way that took me on to the stove.
PEPEL.
Ah . . . why did you make that noise ?
LUKA.
Why, because I was getting aglow . . . for
the orphan laddie's welfare . . . yet I knew
well that the laddie might take it all wrong, that
he might be for throttling the old man. . . .
PEPEL.
Ye-es ... it was a near thing. . . .
LUKA.
Ay ... them mistakes often get made. . . .
PEPEL.
What are you?
LUKA.
My lad ! Now listen to me, what I say : that
woman — cut it ! Nothing to do with 'er ! — keep
out of 'er way? She'll put *er 'usband out of the
way better ner you could, yes ! ' Don't you listen
to her, the devil. . . . Look at me — ah? Bald
. . . and why? Out of all these same different
sorts of women ... I should say I've known,
100 THE LOWER DEPTHS
maybe, more women than ever there grew hairs
upon my head. . . . And that Vassilisa — she
. . . she's worse than a pagan Finn !
PEPEL.
I don't knoiw if I ought to thank yer, or
whether you as well . . .
LUKA.
Don't you say nothin' ! You'll say nothing
better than what I've said 1 Listen : the one
you fancy, put 'er arm in yours, and out of here
in double-quick time. Get out of here, clean
away. . . .
PEPEL.
No makin' people out ! Who's good, 'oo's bad
. . . can't understand a thing. . . .
LUKA.
What's there to understand ? There's all sorts
of men. ... As their hearts tells 'em, so they
live . . . good to-day, bad to-morrow. But if
that girl's really got hold of yer heart . . . take
'er clear off, and 'ave done with it. . . .Or else
go alone . . . you're young, you've time to look
out for a wife.
PEPEL.
(Takes him by the shoulder.} No, you tell
me, why are you on to this?
LUKA.
Now come, let me go. . . . Must see to Anna
THE LOWER DEPTHS 101
. . . she was rattling so bad. . . . (Goes to
Anna's bed, opens curtains, looks, feels with his
hand.)
(PEPEL comes after him, thoughtful and dis-
traught.)
Jesus Christ, most merciful Lord, the spirit
of Thy newly departed servant Anna receive into
Thy peace. . . .
PEPEL.
(Softly.) Dead? (Without approaching, leans
forward so as to obtain a sight of the bed.)
LUKA.
(Softly.) She is gone ! Where will 'er 'us-
band be ?
PEPEL.
In the trakteer, most likely. . . .
LUKA.
Well, 'e must know. . . .
PEPEL.
(Shuddering.) I don't care for dead
people. . . .
LUKA.
(Going to the door.) What's there to care
for? Care for the living . . . the living. . . .
PEPEL.
I'll come with yer. . . .
102 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
What, afraid?
PEPEL.
Don't like it. ...
(They go out quickly.)
(Emptiness and silence. At the passage
door a dull, incomprehensible, uneven
sound is heard. Then enter the
ACTOR.)
THE ACTOR.
(Standing in the open door, supporting himself
against the door-posts, shouts out) Old man,
hi ! Where are yer? I've remembered . . .
listen 1
(He staggers two steps forward, strikes an
attitude, and begins:)
Then, gentlemen, for all our pain
If truth still flee our straining eyes,
Shall we not hail the madman's brain:
The brain that spins us golden lies?
(NATASHA appears in the door behind the
ACTOR.)
Old man 1
And tho' the earth to atoms fly,
And tho' the sun be quenched and dead,
They shall be re-created by
The thought within a madman's head.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 103
NATASHA .
(Laughs.) You gaby 1 You're full. . . .
THE ACTOR.
(Turns to her.) Ah, it's you 1 Where's the
little old boy . . . the darling little old man?
Nowhere 'ere, that's clear. . . . Natasha, fare-
well. . . . Farewell . . . yes.
NATASHA .
Never said good -day, now says goodbye.
THE ACTOR.
(Barring the way to her.) I — am going away.
. . . The spring'll come, and you won't see me
no more .
NATASHA .
Rubbish . . . where er yer goin' ?
THE ACTOR.
To find a town ... to get cured . . . you
clear out, too. Ophelia . . . into a monastery
. . . yer see, there's a hospital for organisms . . .
for drunkards ... a splendid hospital. . . .
Marble . . . marble floor I Light, clean food —
all for nothing 1 And a marble floor . . . yes !
I'll find it, get cured, and ... I shall be all
over again. . . . I'm on the way to regeneration
... as said . . . King Lear. Natasha, on the
stage . . . my name was Svertchkoff — Yavolski.
. No one knows that — no one I I've no name
104 THE LOWER DEPTHS
here. . . . Can't you understand how that's gall-
ing— to lose yer name ? Dogs even have their
names .
(NATASHA manages to get round the ACTOR,
goes over to ANNA'S bed and looks.)
No name, and you're no man. . . .
NATASHA.
Look . . . the poor soul . . . look ! She's
dead 1 ...
THE ACTOR.
(Shaking his head.) It can't be. ...
NATASHA .
(Moving away.) God ! yes . . . look. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
(In the door.) Look at what?
NATASHA .
Anna . . . she's dead.
BOOBNOFF.
Won't cough no more, that means. (Goes
to ANNA'S bed, looks, goes to his place.) You
must tell Klesshtsh . . . it's 'is business. . . .
THE ACTOR.
I'll go and tell him . . . she has lost her
name.
(Goes out.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 105
NATASHA.
And then . . . one ... I too . . . same
for all ... struck down.
BOOBNOFF.
(Stretching a rag of some kind over his
planks.) What — what er yer mumbling?
NATASHA.
So ... to myself. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Waiting for Vaska ? You see, Vaska'll break yer
head for yer. . . .
NATASHA .
Does it much matter — 'oo breaks it? I'd
sooner that he did. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
(Lying down.) That's your affair. . . .
NATASHA.
For surely . . . it's well she's dead . . . it's
sad, too. . . . Lord ! Why do people live?
BOOBNOFF.
So with all : born, live, die. And I shall
die . . . and you too . . . where's the sad-
ness?
(Enter LUKA, the TARTAR, WHEN, and
KLESSHTSH . KLESSHTSH comes behind
the others, slowly, shrunk up.)
106 THE LOWER DEPTHS
NATASHA.
Sh 1 Anna.
WHEN.
We've heard ... in 'eaven, if she's
dead. . . .
THE TARTAR.
(To KLESSHTSH.) You must have her out 1
Out into the passage ! Can't keep dead bodies in
here ; here the living have to sleep. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
(Low.) Well, take 'er out.
(All go over to the bed; KLESSHTSH looks
at his wife over the others1 shoulders.)
WHEN.
(To the TARTAR.) You think she'll smell?
There'll be no smell from her . . . she 'ad
wasted alive. . . .
NATASHA.
Good Lord ! won't yer pity 'er ? . . . if some-
one 'ud speak a kind word 1 Oh, you. . . .
LUKA.
Girlie, don't take on ... it's all right ! For
what . . . and how shall we pity the dead? Eh,
darling 1 The living we don't pity . . . and
ourselves we don't pity . . . why her?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 107
BOOBNOFF.
(Yawning.) And besides, death don't wince
from a word . . . illness may wince from a
word, but death . . . no !
THE TARTAR.
(Going out.} Must fetch the police. . . .
WHEN.
Police — that must be done ! Klesshtsh ! 'ave
yer informed the police?
KLESSHTSH.
No . . . she's got to be buried . . . and all
I've got's forty kopyeks.
WHEN.
Well, in that case yer must borrow . . . and
we'll club together . . . one gives five, another —
what *e can. . . . But get the police — and quick !
Else they'll be fancying it was yer doin', or what
not. (Goes to the planks and makes ready to
lie down beside the TARTAR.)
NATASHA.
(Moving away from BOOBNOFF'S planks.}
Now . . . you see I shall dream of 'er . . .
the dead always appear in my dreams. ... I'm
afraid to go alone . . . it's dark in the
passage. . . .
LUKA.
(Following her.) You be afraid of the living
. . . that's what I say. . . .
108 THE LOWER DEPTHS
NATASHA .
Come with me, daddy.
LUKA.
Come . . . come, I'll see yer safe I
(They go out. A pause.}
WHEN.
Oh — ho-o I Hassan, spring soon, mate . . .
we shall feel warmer then. Now in the country
already peasant's looking to 'is plough and 'is
'arrows, gettin' ready to till ... all ready for
tilling . . . m-yes ! And we ... Hassan ?
Snoring already ! Accursed Mahometan !
BOOBNOFF.
Tartars love to sleep.
KLESSHTSH.
(Standing in the middle of the shelter and
gazing vacantly in front of him.) What am I
goin' to do now ?
WHEN.
Lie down, and sleep . . . that's all there is
to it.
KLESSHTSH.
(Low.) But . . . she . . . how?
(No one answers.)
(SATINE and the ACTOR come in.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 109
THE ACTOR.
(Shouts out.) Old 'un ! Hither to me, my true
Kent.
SATINE.
Way for Miklooka — Maklai. . . . Ho -ho !
THE ACTOR.
It's fixed and decided ! Old 'un, wKere's the
town . . . where are yer?
SATINE.
Fata Morgana, the old man diddled yer 1 ...
There's nothing. . . . No towns, no people-
nothing at all !
THE ACTOR.
You lie 1
THE TARTAR.
(Leaping up.) Where's the master? I'll fetch
the master. If I can't sleep 'e shan't take my
money. Corpses . . . drunkards. . . .
(Goes out quickly . )
(SATINE whistles after him.)
BOOBNOFF.
(In a sleepy voice.) Lie down, boys, keep
quiet ... in the night yer must sleep.
THE ACTOR.
Yes . . . here — aha I A corpse. ..." We
took a corpse up in our nets "... poetry. . . .
B^ranger 1
110 THE LOWER DEPTHS
SATINE.
(Calls out.} Corpses can't hear ! corpses
can't feel. . . . Bellow . . .yell . . . corpses
can't hear. . . .
(LuKA appears in the doorway.}
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
THE THIRD ACT
THE THIRD ACT
SCENE.—" The Waste," strewn with all sorts of
rubbish and overgrown with long grass. At
the back, a high brick party wall. It shuts
out the sky. Around it are elder bushes. At
right a dark timber wall belonging to some
sort of an outhouse, a barn or a stable. At
left the grey, crumbling plaster wall of the
house in which KOSTOLOFF'S night-shelter
is. It stands on a slant, so that the further
corner reaches almost to the middle of the
" Waste." Between it and the party wall a
narrow passage. In the grey wall are two
windows: one on a level with the ground,
the other about six feet higher up and closer
to the party wall. By that wall is a big
sledge turned upside down and a beam about
twelve feet long. At right, by wall, a heap of
old planks. Evening. The sun is setting,
throwing a red light on the party wall. Early
spring, the snow being lately melted. No
buds as yet on the black elder branches.
(NATASHA and NASTYA are seated on the
beam, side by side. LUKA and the
BARON on the sledge. KLESSHTSH is
lying on the pile of timber, right. In the
ground-floor window BOOBNOFF'S mug.)
8 "3
114 THE LOWER DEPTHS
NASTYA.
(With eyes closed, and nodding her head in
tune to the words, relates in a sing-song way)
Then at night would he come into the garden
and talk with me, as we 'ad agreed . . . and I
had been waiting for him a long while, and I
shook with dread and anguish. And he shook,
too, and — pale as honey, and 'e 'eld in 'is 'and a
pistol. . . .
NATASHA.
(Chewing reeds.) Oo ! Then it's true
that these students — they're such desperate
fellows. . . .
NASTYA.
And he says to me in a terrible voice, " My
own precious love." . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Ho -oh ! Precious ?
THE BARON.
Here ! If you don't like it, don't listen, let
her lie. . . . When, then?
NASTYA.
" My imperishable love," 'e says, " my
parents," 'e says, " will not consent for me to
marry yer . . . and threaten to curse me for
ever .because of my love for you. Therefore,
I must," 'e says, " for that reason take my own
life." . . . And his pistol was huge, loaded with
THE LOWER DEPTHS 115
ten bullets. . . . "Farewell," fe says, "my
'cart's beloved comrade 1 I 'ave decided past
recall ... to live without you — that I cannot."
And I replied, " Oh, never can I forget you, my
Raoul !"
BOOBNOFF.
(In astonishment.} What — what's that? —
Kravol ?
THE BARON.
(Laughs.} Come, Nastya, steady on ! Why,
last time it was Gaston !
NASTYA.
(Leaping on.} Silence, you wretches I ...
mongrels ! D'yer think you . . . d'yer think you
can understand . . . love ? Real love ? For
mine — it was . . . real 1 (To BARON.) You !
Dirt 1 ... an educated man, you . . . lay and
drank coffee, did yer ? . . .
LUKA.
Come now, come . . . wait a bit ! And don't
you interfere ! Show respect to folk . . . not in
word — but in deed. It's the reason for a word
that matters. That's where the matter lies ! Tell
along, dearie girl, it's all right !
BOOBNOFF.
" For all the crow may dye its wings." . . .
Dash along !
116 THE LOWER DEPTHS
THE BARON.
Well, what then?
NATASHA .
Don't mind them . . . what are they?
They're only jealous . . . 'cause there's nothing
to tell about themselves.
NASTYA.
(Re -seats herself.) No, I won't any more ! I
won't go on. . . .If they won't believe . . .
if they're going to laugh. (Breaks off suddenly,
is silent for a few minutes, then, with closed
eyes, and keeping time with her hands, as though
beating to some far-off music, she goes on again
loudly and heatedly.) And then I answer to 'im,
" Joy of my life ! thou, my limpid moon ! And
I, too — it is not possible for me to live without
yer . . . because I love you so wildly, as I shall
love you as long as a heart beats in this bosom I
But — I say — take not away your young life . . . . I.t
is so necessary to your dear parents, for you
are all their joy . . . give me up ! let me cast
away my life . . . out of my love for thee. . . .
I am — alone ... I am — what I am 1 I am fit
for nothing . . . and I 'ave nothing . . .
nothing — nothing at all." . . . (Hides her face
in her hands, and weeps noiselessly.)
NATASHA.
(Turning to one side, in a low tone.) Don't
cry . . . yer mustn't cry I
(LUKA, with a smile, strokes NATASHA'S
head.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 117
BOOBNOFF.
(Laughs.) Ah I ... what damned foolery I
THE BARON.
(Also laughing.) Old 'un I D'yer think all
that's true ? All out of a book — " The Fatal Love."
. . . It's all a lot of trash ! Let 'er alone !
NATASHA.
Leave off ! Just shut yer mouth ! God '11
punish yer yet.
NASTYA.
(Bitterly.) Degraded creature I Empty
fellow ! How could you have — a soul ?
LUKA.
(Taking NASTYA 's hand.) Come away,
dearie I It's nothing . . . don't get angry ! I
— know . . . I — believe ! It's you that's right, not
them. If you believe you had a real love . . .
why, then, you had one — 'ad one ! But don't get
angry with 'im, with yer room-mate . . . maybe
he's envious, and that's what he's laughing for
. . . maybe 'e never 'ad one of that real sort
. . . 'ad nothing 1 Come along, then I
NASTYA.
(Pressing her hands fast against her bosom.)
Gran'pa ! God's truth . . . that's 'ow it was
... it was, indeed it was ! 'E was a student
. a Frenchman — we called 'im Gastosha ,
118 THE LOWER DEPTHS
or little black beard . . . and wore patent boots
. . . strike me dead if I'm lying 1 And 'e loved
me so ... 'e loved me so !
LUKA.
I — know 1 It's all right I I believe ! Did 'e
wear patent boots? Ai — ai — ai — and you loved
'im too, didn't yer?
(Disappears round the corner.}
THE BARON.
There's a fool of a girl for yer ! . . . Good !
but such a fool — it's incredible !
BOOBNOFF.
Why is it? ... people's so fond of lying —
just as if they was up before the beak . . . it's
so 1
NATASHA.
Can't yer see that lies is ... jollier . . .
than the truth ... I too
THE BARON.
You too? Come, let's have it !
NATASHA .
I think, and think . . . and I think and
— expect .
THE BARON.
What?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 119
NATASHA.
(Smiling in a perturbed way.') Just . . .
Now, I think, to-morrow . . . there'll come
somebody . . . something . . . extraordinary
... or something will 'appen . . . something
unusual. . . . I've been expectin' long . . . I'm
always expectin'. . . . But really ... as a
matter of fact — what is there to expect ?
(Pause.)
THE BARON.
(With a faint smile.) Nothing to expect . . .
I — expect nothing ! All that was . . . has been !
Passed, ended ! . . . What then ?
NATASHA.
And then ... I get a fancy that to-morrow
. . . suddenly ... I shall die . . . and that
gets me scared. ... In the summer it makes
one imagine about death ... in summer the
storms are about . . . you may be struck by
lightning. . . .
THE BARON.
Your life, it's a hard one . . . that sister of
yours has a fiend's temper.
NATASHA.
Tell me — 'oo does live 'appily ? It's 'ard for
all ... that I see. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
(Till then motionless and indifferent, suddenly
120 THE LOWER DEPTHS
jumping up.} For all? That's a lie ! Not for
all ! If for all ... then all right ! Then-
there 's no 'arm . . . yes I
BOOBNOFF.
What's up — is the devil biting yer ? You,
indeed, howlin' that way !
(KLESSHTSH lies down again in his place,
muttering.}
THE BARON.
Um ! . . . I must go and make it up with
-Natasha ... if I don't I'll not have the money
for a drink. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Um ! . . . People's fond of lying. . . .
With Nastya it's clear enough 1 She's used to
colourin' 'er mug . . . and 'ere she is now
wantin' to colour her soul ... to put rooge on
her soul. . . . But . . . the others. . . . why
do they ? Now, for instance, there's Luka . . .
'e lies rarely . . . 'e gets nothin' from it. ...
And an old man, too— why is it all?
THE BARON.
{Smiling and going off.} All men they have
all grey souls and they all want to rouge 'em
up. ...
(LUKA appears from round the corner.}
THE LOWER DEPTHS 121
LUKA.
Now, dear sir, why do you tease the girl ?
Don't interfere with 'er . . . let 'er cry — it gives
her pleasure. . . . It's for 'er own pleasure, yer
see, that she 'as 'er weeps . . . where is the
'arm to you?
THE BARON.
It's rubbish, old man ! She's a nuisance.
To-day Raoul, to-morrow — Cast on . . . still the
same old tale ! Still — I shall go and make it
up with 'er. . . .
(Goes out.}
LUKA.
Go along, that's it ... go and fondle 'er !
Fondle people . . . never does no 'arm. . . .
NATASHA .
Daddy, 'ow good yer are ! . . . Why are yer
so good?
LUKA.
Good, der yer say? Um . . . that's right,
if so be ... yes ! (Behind the party wall the
sound of low singing to a concertina is heard.}
One must, dearie, be good to some one . . .
and we must pity people 1 Christ — He pitied all,
and so He ordered us. . . .1 say this — if you
pity a man . . . then good comes of it 1 Here,
now, I was once a caretaker in a villa ... an
engineer's it was, near the town of Tomsk. . . .
Ay, it was I The villa stood in a forest, in the
'eart of it . and it was winter and — there I
122 THE LOWER DEPTHS
was in the 'ouse all alone. . . . Well and good !
One day — a sound — people rustling I
NATASHA.
Thieves ?
LUKA.
Yes. That's what's rustlin', ay 1 ... Pick up
my little gun, and out I went. See 'em — two
. . . openin' the window — so busy about it that
— they don't see me. I shouts out, " You rascals
. . . be off ! " And then, yer see, they're at me
with an 'atchet ... I tell 'em to stand off !
Or else — I fire ! . . . And my gun I keeps
pointin' it at one and then the other. Down they
goes on their knees, as to say, " Have mercy I "
For I tell you I was riled . . . ' cause of the 'atchet,
you see ! I says : " Now, you woodmen, I've
ordered yer off once, and you're not gone. Now
just you break me off a birch." They broke it off.
Now, I says " Lie down " to the one, and to the
other, " Flog 'im." So they flogged one another.
And then they began to beseech me. " Dearie
man," they says, " for Christ's sake give us some
bread ! We'll go away ; we meant no 'arm." Them
was my robbers, lo vie . . . . (Laughs.} Them was
their 'atchet, too ! Yes . . . good peasants both
of 'em. ... I says to them : 'Why, my wood-
men, you should 'ave asked right out for bread."
And they say : " We're tired of asking," they say
— " ask and ask . . . and no one gives . . . it's
cruel I " So all that winter they lived with me.
The one that was called Stepan — he'd take my gun
THE LOWER DEPTHS 123
and go shootin' in the forest. . . . But the other
man, Jacob — 'e was ill, coughing always. . . .
And there the three of us together — we took care
of the villa. . . . When the spring came —
" Goodbye," they say, " gran'pa I " And off they
went . . . they were going to Russia.
NATASHA .
Were they runaways ? — convicts ?
LUKA.
That's just what they were — runaways . . .
broken out of prison. . . . Proper moujiks I If
I'd not pitied them — maybe that they'd 'ave killed
me ... or what not. . . . Besides — courts, and
prison and Siberia . . . where's the sense?
Prison don't teach nothin' good, and Siberia don't
. . . but it's the man — 'e teaches . . . yes 1 A
man, 'e can teach for good . . . very simply !
(Pause.}
BOOBNOFF.
M-m-yes 1 ... But here am I ... I can't
lie ! Why ? To my lights — give us just all the
truth, as it is 1 Why 'ide any thin' ?
KLESSHTSH.
(Suddenly leaping up again and shouting out
in an- ecstatic way.) What's truth? Where is
the truth? (Tearing at his rags.) Here's —
truth I No work ... no strength I Here's
truth I No shelter ... no shelter I We must
pant and die . . . that is the truth I The devil I
124 THE LOWER DEPTHS
What — what do I want with the truth? Give me
room to breathe . . . room to breathe ! Why
am I guilty? What's to me ... the truth?
Can't live — blast it ! — I can't live ! Live — hell ! —
let us live . . . and there is the truth ! . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Touched 'im up a bit ! . . .
LUKA.
Lord Jesus . . . now listen, love ! You . . .
KLESSHTSH.
(Quivering with excitement.} You talk about
— truth. You, old man, you go about and you
soothe every one. ... I tell yer ... I loathe
every one ! And that's a truth . . . blast the
truth I Now do you hear ? Now do you know ?
I say to you— blast it 1
(Rushes off round the corner, turning as
he goes.)
LUKA.
Ai — ai — ai ! It's a real shock 'e's 'ad. . . .
Where's 'e run off to?
NATASHA.
'Is raving don't matter. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
'E let it go fine ! The way they do in the
theatres. . . . Often 'appens that way . . . not
got used to the life.
(PEPEL comes slowly round the corner.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 125
PEPEL.
Peace be to this honest assemblage I Well,
Luka, my wily old boy, been givin' them the
story of yer life ?
LUKA.
You ought to 'ave 'card just now 'ow one fell
a -shouting I
PEPEL.
What, Klesshtsh, was it? What's up with 'im?
'E's runnin* as if he was scalded. . . .
LUKA.
When yer run like that, it means . . .it's
gone right to yer 'eart. . . .
PEPEL.
(Sitting down.} Don't like 'im . . . 'e's beastly
spiteful and 'aughty. (Imitates KLESSHTSH.)
I am a working man. Every one's beneath 'im.
. . . Work, if yer want to ... nothin' to be
cocky about ? If yer value people by their work
... a 'orse can give any man points . . . 'e
pulls and — says nothin' ! Natasha ! Your people
-in?
NATASHA.
They're gone in the Square — then to evenin'
service .
126 THE LOWER DEPTHS
PEPEL.
So, yes, I see that you're free for once ... a
novelty !
LUKA.
(Reflectively to BOOBNOFF.) Now see . . .
you say — truth . . .it's not always a good treat-
ment for man . . . can't always heal the soul
with the truth. . . . For instance, now 'ere's a
case : I knew a man 'oo believed in a land of
righteousness.
BOOBNOFF.
In wha-at?
LUKA.
In a land of righteousness. " There must," 'e
said, " on the earth be a land of righteousness . . .
and there must be dwelling in that land — an ex-
ceptional kind of people ... good people ! they
respect one another, and it's just natural to them
to help one another . . . and all about them
is wonderfully good ! " And there was that man
. . . 'oo was always wantin' to go and seek the
land of righteousness. 'E was — poor, lived miser-
ably . . . and when it got so bad with 'im that
even lyin' down didn't 'elp 'im — still 'e didn't lose
'eart, he'd only just smile and 'e'd say : " Never
mind I I can bear it I A little more waiting —
and I've done with all this life — and I shall go
off to the land of righteousness." ... It was
his one delight, was that land. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 127
PEPEL.
Well? Did 'e go?
BOOBNOFF.
Where ? Ho, ho !
LUKA.
And then to this place — all this was in Siberia
— there came an exile, 'e was a scholar . . .
books and plans 'e 'ad, that scholar 'ad, and every
sort of thing. . . . Then the man says to the
scholar : " Show me, if you will be so kind, where
does the land of righteousness lie, and which is
the way there?" At once the scholar opens 'is
books, undoes 'is plans . . . 'e looked — looked —
no, there's nowhere no land of righteousness. It's
quite true, the countries there are all marked, but
for a righteousness one — there isn't such ! . . .
PEPEL.
What ? None ?
(BOOBNOFF laughs.)
NATASHA .
Stop now. . . . Well, uncle?
LUKA.
The man won't believe. . . . " There must be,"
'e says ..." look well 1 If not," 'e says, " yer
books and yer plans they're no use : if there
isn't any land of righteousness." . . . The scholar
was offended. " My plans," 'e says, " are the
very latest, and there isn't nowhere not any land of
128 THE LOWER DEPTHS
righteousness at all." Well, and then the man
grew angry. " Can't be 1 I've lived and lived and
suffered and suffered and always believed — there
is ! and your plan says that there's not !
Robbery 1 " Then 'e says to the scholar : " Ah,
you . . . you scum ! You're a swindler, not a
scholar "... and gives 'im one — whack — on 'is
ear ! Then another 1 ...
(Silence.')
And after that 'e went 'ome and 'anged 'imself !
(All are silent, LUKA, with a smile, looks
at PEPEL and NATASHA.)
PEPEL.
(In low tones.) Oh, the devil I ... that's
not a cheerful tale.
NATASHA .
'E couldn't stand the deceit. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
(Sullen.) All of it's made up.
PEPEL.
M-yes ... so much for your land of right-
eousness ... it wasn't to be found. . . .
NATASHA.
I'm sorry for that man. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 129
BOOBNOFF.
It's all — a story. . . . Ho, ho 1 the land of
righteousness ! There's a notion ! Ho, ho, ho 1
(Disappears from window.}
LUKA.
(Nodding towards window.) 'E laughs I Eh-
hay-hay 1 ... Well, children . . . live in
God I I'll soon be leaving you.
PEPEL.
Where are yer off?
LUKA.
To little Russia. . . .I'm told that they've
found there a new faith . . . 'ave to look into
it ... yes I People are always seeking and
wishing — a better way. . . . God give 'em
patience !
PEPEL.
'Ow d'yer think — will they find it?
LUKA.
If people will ? They'll — find it I Who wishes
— finds . . . who wishes strongly — finds 1
NATASHA.
If they'd found anything . . . they'd 'ave
arranged better than . . .
LUKA.
They're arranging I But they must be 'elped,
little one . . . they must be respected. . . .
9
130 THE LOWER DEPTHS
NATASHA.
'Ow can I 'elp? I'm without 'elp . . . for
myself. . . .
PEPEL.
(Decisively.} Once more I'm . . . I'm going
again ter talk ter yer . . . Natasha. . . . It's
— this — 'e knows all. Come . . . with me I
NATASHA.
Where? To prison?
PEPEL.
I told you — I'll chuck thieving ! God's truth—
I'll chuck it 1 What I've said— I'll do ! I can
read and write. . . . I'll work. . . . Here's 'e
been tellin* me to go to Siberia on my own
hook . . . let's go together — eh? . . . D'yer
think my life, it don't jar me ? Ah, Natasha . . .
I know ... I see ... I consoles myself
because I see others steals more than me, and
they live in honour . . . though they don't help
me I It ain't that 1 I ain't repentin' ... I
don't believe in conscience. . . . But this thing I
do feel : I must live . . . different I Must live
better ! Must live ... so as I can be able
to respect myself. . . .
LUKA.
That's true, friend 1 God grant it ... Christ
'elp yer ! True : a man ought to respect 'imself.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 131
PEPEL.
I've been from my cradle a thief ... all 'ave
always said to me : " Vaska's a thief, the son of a
thief." Aha 1 Eh? There it is ! Set down— a
thief I ... Yer see : I might 'ave been a thief
from badness — yes . . . but I 'ave been a thief
because no one ever called me anythin' else. . . .
Say now. . . . Natasha, well?
NATASHA .
(Sorrowfully.} Some way, I don't believe
. . . not in any words. . . . And I feels uneasy
to-day . . . my 'cart's 'eavy ... as though I
was expectin' somethin'. . . It's a pity, Vassili,
you started on this to-day. . . .
PEPEL.
But when then? It isn't for the first time. . . .
NATASHA .
And where should I go with you? As to . . .
loving you. ... I don't much love you. . . .
At times — you do please me ... then some-
times I can't bear to see you . . . when it's
love . . . one sees nothing bad in one's sweet-
heart . . . but I — see . . .
PEPEL.
You'll love me — never fear I I'll make you
care ... if only you'll say yes 1 I've watched
yer for over a year. ... I see you're a straight
132 THE LOWER DEPTHS
girl . . . good ... a man yer can trust . . .
'e loves yer very much. . . .
(VASSILISA, in her best dress, appears in
the window and listens.}
NATASHA.
Well, you love me, but my sister . . .
PEPEL.
(Agitated.} Well, what of 'er? That sort
. . . they don't count. . . .
LUKA.
Never mind that, girlie. When yer can't get
good bread, yer put up with stale stuff. . . .
When there's no clean, good, fresh bread. . . .
PEPEL.
(Gloomily.} Per'aps yer might pity me. My
life's not soft ... a wolf's life — little joy in
it ... like a man in a swamp . . . and what-
ever I catches at ... it's all rotten ... no
hold nowhere .... Your sister ... I thought
different ... if she weren't so ... so 'ot after
money — I'd gladly 'ave taken 'er . . . for good
and all I ... If as she'd be mine altogether.
. . . But she wants other things. . . . She
wants money . . . and 'er own way . . . and
'er way is to — to go on the loose. She — can't
'elp me. . . . But you're like a young fir-tree,
and — it may rock, yet it 'olds firm. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 133
LUKA.
And I say — you go with him, dearie, you go
with 'im 1 'E's the right sort — a good lad ! And
you just keep on remindin' 'im 'e's a good lad,
so, I mean, as fe shan't forget it. 'E'll believe
yer. . . . Only you say to 'im, " Vaska, it's certain
that you're a good man . . . don't forget it ! "
And think, too, dearie, where else is there you
could go to ? — um ? Your sister, she's just a fierce
beast — and 'er husband — what can one say of 'im ?
There's no words bad enough for the old man
. . . and all of this life 'ere — what can it lead
to? But the lad's strong. . . .
NATASHA.
Nowhere to go ... I know . . . I've
thought of it. . . . Only it's this. ... I don't
believe nobody. . . . But I've nowhere to go
to. ...
PEPEL.
One way . . . but that way I'll not let yer
go. ... Sooner I'd kill yer. . . .
NATASHA .
(Smiling.) There ... I'm not his wife yet,
and already 'e's talkin' of killin'.
PEPEL.
(Putting his arm round her.) Come, Natasha,
say yer will 1
134 THE LOWER DEPTHS
NATASHA.
(Pressing herself to him.} But this one thing.
I say, Vaska . . . and I speak it before God !—
the first time you strike me, or any way insult
me, I'll either 'ang myself ... or ...
PEPEL.
May my 'and rot off, if I touches yer !
LUKA.
It's all right, never doubt it, lovie. You're
dearer to 'im than 'e to you. . . .
VASSILISA.
(Out of the window.} So that's arranged !
A pretty love council !
NATASHA .
She's there. . . . Oh Lord ! She's seen— ah,
Vaska I . . .
PEPEL.
What er yer frightened for ? No one dare
touch yer now !
VASSILISA.
Don't fear, Natasha ! He'll not beat yer. . . .
'E can't beat, for 'e can't love. ... I know !
LUKA.
(Low.} Ah, woman . . . poisonous
snake 1 .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 135
VASSILISA.
*E 'its yer with words. . . .
(KOSTOLOFF enters.}
KOSTOLOFF.
Natasha ! What er yer after 'ere, sluggard?
Tittle-tattling? Grumbling at yer relatives ? And
the samovar not ready? . . . the table not
touched ?
NATASHA .
(Going out.) I thought you was goin' to
Church. . . .
KOSTOLOFF.
That's none of your business where we're
goin' ! Keep to your own business . . . and
do as yer ordered !
PEPEL.
Hold you ! She's no longer yer servant I ...
Natasha, don't go ... don't do nothing !
NATASHA.
You stop ordering . . . you're beginning a
bit early !
PEPEL.
(To KOSTOLOFF.) So that's 'ow I get left
. . . never mind ! Now she is ... mine I
KOSTOLOFF.
Yours ? When did you buy 'er ? Fer 'ow
much?
(VASSILISA laughs.)
136 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
Vaska ! — you — be off. . .'".•
PEPEL.
You're pleased to think it funny I Maybe
you'll learn that it's a cryin' matter I
VASSILISA.
Oh, 'ow terrible ! Oh, ain't I terrified I
LUKA.
Vassili — be off I for see . . . she's drawing
yer on ... working yer up — don't yer under-
stand?
PEPEL.
Yes . . . aha 1 She's lying . . . you lie !
You won't have it all your way !
VASSILISA.
And it won't be the way that I don't want,
Vaska 1
PEPEL.
(Clenching his fist at her.) We'll see !
(Goes out.)
VASSILISA.
(Disappearing from window.) I'll arrange you
a wedding.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 137
KOSTOLOFF.
Well, my old man ?
LUKA.
Just so, my old man I ...
KOSTOLOFF.
So ... you're going away, they say?
LUKA.
Soon.
KOSTOLOFF.
Where?
LUKA.
Where my eyes draw me.
KOSTOLOFF.
On the tramp, you mean. . . . Ain't to yer
taste, I see, stoppin* in one place ?
LUKA.
Under a firm stone no water flows, they say.
KOSTOLOFF.
That's — for a stone. But a man ought to live
on one spot. Men ought not to live like beetles
. . . each one popping about just as ever *e
pleases. A man ought to settle 'imself in one
place . . . not wander at random over the
earth. .
138 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
But supposing that every place is his place?
KOSTOLOFF.
Why, that shows 'e's a tramp ... a useless
man ... a man, 'e ought to be of use . . .
he ought to labour. . . .
LUKA.
Get on !
KOSTOLOFF.
Yes. Consider ... a vagrant . . . what is
he ? A man apart ... a man not like others ....
Suppose 'e — a real pilgrim — knows somethin' that's
no good to any one . . . though it be true enough
. . . but there's not good in every truth . . .
yes ! Well, let 'im keep it to 'imself and — keep
still ! If he's a real pilgrim, 'e — is silent. But
then 'e — *e don't wish for nothing, don't interfere,
don't annoy people without reason. . . . 'Ow
people live's none of 'is business. . . . 'E ought
to follow a righteous life ... to live in the
woods ... in the fastnesses . . . out of sight !
And interfere with no one, judge no one . . .
but only pray for all ... for all the sins of
the world . . . for mine . . . for thine . . .
for all. It's for that 'e forsakes all earthly cares
... so as to pray. And that's the way.
(Pause.) But you . . . what sort of a pilgrim
are you ? You've no passport ... a good
man should 'ave a passport ... all good people
'as passports . . . yes \
THE LOWER DEPTHS 139
LUKA.
There are people, and then there are others
that are men. . . .
KOSTOLOFF.
Won't do for me. Don't give me no riddles.
. . . I'm as clever as you. . . . What stuff —
people and men !
LUKA.
Where's the riddle ? I say — there is ground
that won't take seed . . . and there's land that's
fertile . . . whatever you put in it — it grows
. . . and by that . . .
KOSTOLOFF.
What er yer gettin' at?
LUKA.
Now thus, for example. . . . Suppose the
Lord God 'Imself says, " Mikhail, be you a man ! "
. . . It's all settled . . . without no bother
... as you are — so you remain. . . .
KOSTOLOFF.
But . . . but — are you aware — my wife 'as an
uncle — a policeman. And if I ...
(VASSILISA comes in.)
VASSILISA.
Mikhail Ivanitch, go and 'ave yer tea.
140 THE LOWER DEPTHS
KOSTOLOFF.
Here's fer yer ! get out of here ! clear out
of this place I
VASSILISA.
Yes, you get out, old man ! Your tongue's
a sight too long . . . yes, and 'oo knows you're
not a runaway. . . .
KOSTOLOFF.
From to-day take yer carcase off ! or else —
look out !
LUKA.
Call up uncle I Call uncle . . . think if *e
caught a runaway. . . . Uncle might get a
reward . . . three kopyeks. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
(At window.) What's that for sale? What's
that fer three kopyeks?
LUKA.
It's me they're threatening to sell.
VASSILISA.
(To husband.) Come on. ...
BOOBNOFF.
For three kopyeks? Why, you see, old man,
they'd sell you for one. . . .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 141
KOSTOLOFF.
You . . . sprang up just like a devil from
under the stove? (Going with his wife.}
VASSILISA.
What 'eaps of shady people in the world . . .
and every kind of swindlers. . . .
LUKA.
Wish you a good appetite 1 ...
VASSILISA.
(Turning round.} Shut your mouth . . . yer
rotten toadstool I
(Disappears with her husband round the
corner.}
LUKA.
This night — I'm off. ...
BOOBNOFF.
That's best. Never outstay your welcome. . . .
LUKA.
You say true.
BOOBNOFF.
I — know. Maybe I'd be in prison, if I 'adn't
gone off in time.
LUKA.
Urn?
142 THE LOWER DEPTHS
BOOBNOFF.
True. This way : my wife took up with the
master. ... To say truth, the master was all
right . . . 'e was a rare 'and at changing dog's
coat, re-dyin' it, into racoon . . . cat's too—
into kangaroo . . . musk-rat . . . and all sorts.
A knock out ! So you see — the wife took up with
'im . . . and they were that gone on one another
that I feared they might poison me, or get me
out of the world some'ow. So I beat the wife
. . . and the master — me. . . . We 'ad dread-
ful fights. Once 'e pulled out 'alf my beard and
broke my rib. Then I'd get wild too . . . once
I cracked my wife over the noddle with an iron
yard . . . and altogether we was in the wars.
'Owever, I see — nothin' can come of all this . . .
they get the best of it 1 And then I thought to
myself — I'd kill my wife . . . thought of it
powerful ! But I pulled myself up in time — and
cleared off. . . .
LUKA.
That was the best I Leave 'em to go on chang-
ing dogs into racoons 1
BOOBNOFF.
Only that the shop was in the wife's name . . .
and I was left — as you see ! Though, to tell the
truth, I'd 'ave drunk away the shop. For, yer
see, I 'as those drinking spells. . . .
LUKA.
Drinkin' spelli ? Ah !
THE LOWER DEPTHS 143
BOOBNOFF.
The worst yer can ! Once I begin to put it
down — I do in everything, leave nothin' but my
skin. . . . What's more — I'm lazy. It's awful
'ow I 'ate work 1
(SATINE and ACTOR enter quarrelling.}
SATINE.
Rot ! You won't go anywhere . . . it's a
pack of lies. Old man ! why did yer pour all
that stuff into 'is ears ?
THE ACTOR.
You lie ! Uncle ! tell 'im that 'e lies ! I—-
am going 1 To-day I worked, swept the floor
. . . and took no vodka. How's that? Here
they are — two five kopyeks, and I'm — sober I
SATINE.
You pack of fools 1 Give it here, I'll drink it !
THE ACTOR.
Get out 1 That's all towards it.
LUKA.
(To SATINE.) And you — why do you lead 'im
away?
SATINE.
Tell me, you magician, beloved of the gods—
what's my life going to be? Blown myself, I
have, into smithereens I But it's all gone yet,
uncle — there are sharpers in the world cleverer
than me 1
144 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
You're merry, Konstantine . . . agreeable 1
BOOBNOFF.
Actor 1 Come along 'ere I
(The ACTOR comes to the window, and sits
in front of BOOBNOFF on the sill.)
SATINE.
In early days, brother, I was a great wag. It's
good to remember I ... One of the boys in my
time . . . danced splendidly — played on the
stage — liked to amuse people . . . fine. . . .
LUKA.
'Ow did yer get out of yer bearings, eh?
SATINE.
Aren't you just curious, little old chappie 1 You
have to know all ... but — why?
LUKA.
I want to understand the ways of men . . .
and I look at you — I don't understand ! You're a
bold fellow, Konstantine ... no fool . . . yet
all at once . . .
SATINE.
Prison, daddy 1 Four years and seven months
did I sit in prison . . . after the prison . . .
nowhere to go I
THE LOWER DEPTHS 145
LUKA.
Oh -ho, ho ! What were you in for?
SATINE.
For a rascal. ... I killed the rascal in a
rage . . . and in the prison I learned to play
cards. . . .
LUKA.
Was the killing — for a woman?
SATINE.
For my own sister. . . . Anyhow — you come
off it. I don't care for being questioned . . .
and ... all that happened long ago. . . . My
sister — died . . . nine years have passed since
then. . . . Ah, brother, she was a real brick
of a girl, my sister was. . . .
LUKA.
You take life easily ! Yet 'ere just now was
the locksmith — 'ow he did yell . . . ai — ai — ai !
SATINE.
Klesshtsh ?
LUKA.
Yes. 'There's no work," 'e cries . . ..
" there's nothing ! "
SATINE.
He'll get used to it. ... What shall I be
up to now?
10
146 THE LOWER DEPTHS
LUKA.
(Softly.} See ! 'ere he comes !
(KLESSHTSH comes in slowly, his head
bowed.)
SATINE.
Hey, widower ! What do yer hang yer head
for? What are you pondering?
KLESSHTSH.
Thinkin' . . . what shall I do ? I've got no
tools ... all gone for the funeral !
SATINE.
I'll give you some advice ... do nothing !
Simply dig up the world !
KLESSHTSH.
That's what yer say ... I should be ashamed
before men. . . .
SATINE.
Come off ! Men aren't ashamed to let you live
worse than a dog. . . . Think now — you stop
working, I don't work . . . and a hundred more
. . . thousands — all ! — d'yer see? All chuck
work ! No one will do anything — then what '11
happen !
KLESSHTSH.
They'll all die of hunger !
THE LOWER DEPTHS 147
LUKA.
(To SATINE.) If these are your notions, you
ought to go to the " fugitives "... there's a
people they call the " fugitives." . . .
SATINE.
I know . . . they're no fools, ancient. . . .
(NATASHA is heard from KOSTOLOFF'S
window crying out, " What for?
Stop! . . . What 'ave I done? ")
LUKA.
(Agitated .) Natasha ! It was her cryin'-
Ah \
(From the KOSTOLOFFS' apartment is heard
noise, scuffling, the sound of broken
crockery, and the shrill cry of
KOSTOLOFF— " A h ! heretic ! hag ! " )
VASSILISA.
Wait a bit ... I'll teach her ... there,
there ! . . .
NATASHA.
Beating me . . . killing me. . . .
SATINE.
(Shouts in at the window.) Hi ! in there ! . . .
LUKA.
(In trepidation.) Vassili . . . call 'im ;
call Vaska. . . . Oh, Lord ! Brothers . . ,
children 1
148 THE LOWER DEPTHS
THE ACTOR.
(Running out.) Here, now. . . .I'll find *im
at once !
BOOBNOFF.
It's nothin' uncommon, their beatin' 'er.
SATINE.
Come on, old man . . .we'll act as witnesses 1
LuKA.
(Following SATINE.) I ain't no sort of a
witness ! It's Vassili . . . quick and fetch
'im. . . .
NATASHA .
Sister . . . sister, dear ! . . . Va — a — a . . .
BOOBNOFF.
They've stopped 'er mouth — I'll go and
look. . . .
(The noise in the KOSTOLOFFS' apartment
diminishes, seems to die away as if
they had gone out into the passage.
The cry of an old man heard:
" Stop ! " The loud slam of a door,
which seems, as it were, with a hatchet,
to cut off all sound. Quiet on the
stage. Evening twilight.)
KLESSHTSH.
(Seated on the sledge, rubs his hands firmly
together. Then begins to mutter something —
THE LOWER DEPTHS 149
at first indistinguishable, then} — 'Ow, then? Must
live. (Aloud.} Must have a roof . . . well?
No roof . . . nothing 1 Man alone . . . alone
—that's all. . . .No hope. . . .
(Slowly he goes out.}
(A few seconds of ominous silence, then,
somewhere in the passage, a volume of
sound, chaos of cries. It increases and
approaches. Individual voices are dis-
tinguishable.}
VASSILISA.
I'm her sister 1 Let me go. ...
KOSTOLOFF.
What right have you got F
VASSILISA.
Jail -bird 1 ...
SATINE.
Call Vaska ! . . . quick — When — give it 'im 1
(A police whistle.}
(TARTAR runs in, his right hand bandaged.}
THE TARTAR.
'Ere's a pretty pass 1 — murder in broad day-
light !
(Enter WHEN, followed by MYEDVYEDYEFF.)
150 THE LOWER DEPTHS
WHEN.
Ha ! I gave 'im one for 'imself !
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
You — you've been fighting, too ?
THE TARTAR.
And you ? Do yer own duty 1
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Feeling for his cord.} Here I give up my
whistle. . . .
(KOSTOLOFF runs in.)
KOSTOLOFF.
Abraham ! Stop 'im ! . . . Seize 'im ! . . .
It's murder !
(From around the corner come KVASHNYA
and NASTYA, supporting NATASHA, all
dishevelled. SATINE moves backwards
towards the house, dragging VASSILISA,
who is trying to get at her sister;
ALYOSHKA is leaping about her like a
madman, whistling in her ears, shriek-
ing, roaring. Also other tattered
persons — men and women.)
SATINE.
(To VASSILISA.) Would you? you damned
owl ! .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 151
VASSILISA.
Let go, you jail -bird ! I'll tear you to
pieces. . . .
KVASHNYA.
(Taking away NATASHA.) Karpovna, leave off
... aren't you ashamed? Er you mad?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Seizes SATINE.) Aha . . . I've got yer 1
SATINE.
When ! flay 'em . . . Vaska; . . . Vaska . . .
(All are struggling in a mass near the
passage, near the party wall. They
draw NATASHA away to the R., and
set her down on the pile of wood.}
(PEPEL rushes in and silently, with power-
ful movements, forces his way through
them.)
PEPEL.
Where are you — Natasha?
KOSTOLOFF.
(Getting behind the corner.) Abraham I Seize
Vaska 1 brothers, help us ... take Vaska !
Robber I footpad !
152 THE LOWER DEPTHS
PEPEL.
You— you old goat I (Violently swinging
round, he strikes the old man.}
(KOSTOLOFF falls so that only the upper
part of his body is in sight. PEPEL
rushes to NATASHA.)
VASSILISA.
Beat Vaska I Good people I ... beat the
robber !
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Cries to SATINE.) Let be ... this is ...
a family matter 1 They're relations . . . what
er you?
I
KVASHNYA.
Look, look the savages I They've scalded the
child's poor feet. . . .
NASTYA.
The samovar upset.
THE TARTAR.
Maybe ... an accident . . . must 'ave the
truth . . . mustn't talk wildly. . , .
NATASHA.
(Half fainting.) Vassilisi . . . take me . . .
save me .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 153
VASSILISA.
Good folk ! look here I look, see ! Dead !
Murdered I
(All gather round KOSTOLOFF in the
passage. BooBNOFF comes out from
the throng, goes to PEPEL.)
BOOBNOFF.
(Low}. Vaska 1 the old man ! It's done now !
PEPEL.
(Looks at him, seems not to take it in.} Go
. . . and call . . . take 'im to the hospital . . .
leave me to deal with them 1
BOOBNOFF.
I say — the old man — some one's finished
•im. . . .
(The noise on the stage goes out like blaz-
ing wood extinguished by water. Sepa-
rate half -whispered ejaculations: " Not
really?" "Done it this time!"
"Let^s get out of it!" "Oh, the
devil! " " Some one's in for it! " The
crowd decreases.}
(BOOBNOFF and the TARTAR go off.}
(NASTYA and KVASHNYA rush to the body
of KOSTOLOFF.)
154 THE LOWER DEPTHS
VASSILISA.
(Getting up from the ground, cries out
triumphantly} Killed 'im ! my 'usband . . .
there's 'is murderer I Vaska murdered 'im ! I
saw it I Good people — I saw it ! ... And now
— Vaska? — the police !
PEPEL.
(Doming from NATASHA.) Take 'er away I
(Looks at the OLD MAN. To VASSILISA.) Well?
You're glad? (Touches the body with his foot.}
Croaked the old dog I It's come your way. But
can't I serve you the same? (Rushes at her.}
(SATINE and WHEN pounce upon him—
VASSILISA rushes into the passage.)
SATINE.
Hold on !
WHEN.
Proo I Where are you jumping to ?
VASSILISA.
(Reappearing.) What, Vaska, darling friend?
You've got to go on trial. . . . Police I Abra-
ham ! Whistle !
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
They tore it away, the devils ! . . .
ALYOSHKA.
Here it is 1 (He whistles. MYEDVYEDYEFF
runs after him.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 155
SATINE.
Vaska, don't funk I Manslaughter — that's all
it is— that's nothing ! That doesn't cost you
much. . . .
VASSILISA.
Hold Vaska ! 'E killed 'im. . . . I saw 'im I
SATINE.
I gave 'im three good taps. . . . Can't have
needed much ! Call me as a witness, Vaska. . . .
PEPEL.
I don't want to acquit myself. . . . What I
want's to bring Vassilisa in ... and I will bring
'er into it. She wished for it ... she 'as urged
me to kill 'er 'usband ... 'as urged me
to. ...
NATASHA.
(Suddenly and loud.) Ah ! — I understand.
. . . So, Vassili ? Good people ! They are — at
one I My sister and — him . . . they are at one I
They had arranged it all ! So, Vassili, that's
why you talked to me to-night ... so that she
. . . might overhear it all? Good people I She
is 'is lover . . . you know it ... all know it
. . . they are at one ! She ... it was she
got 'im to kill 'er 'usband . . . 'e was in their
way . . . and I — was in their way. . . . See 'ow
they've mangled me. . . .
156 THE LOWER DEPTHS
PEPEL.
Natalya ! What d'yer say . . . what d'yer
say?
SATINE.
The devil's in it all !
VASSILISA.
You lie ! She's lying I ... I ... He,
Vaska's the murderer !
NATASHA .
They are — at one 1 Curse you both ! Both
of yer.
SATINE.
'Ere's a muddle 1 Take care, Vassili. They'll
sink yer between 'em 1
WHEN.
No understanding it. ... What a world it is 1
PEPEL.
Natalya I No, it can't be you do really? — you
can't believe that me and her . . .
SATINE.
God's sake, Natasha, think what you're saying I
VASSILISA.
(//z the passage.} They've killed my 'usband
. . . Your worships. . . . Vaska Pepel, a thief
... he 'as killed him, Mr. Inspector. ... I
— saw it, they all saw it. ...
THE LOWER DEPTHS 157
NATASHA.
(Her mind wandering.} Good people . . .
my sister and Vaska they're murderers ! The
police — you can 'ear them . . .it's she, it's my
sister, she's urged him — persuaded him . . . her
lover . . . there 'e is, the wretch . . . they are
the murderers ! Take them . . . judge. . . .
And take me to prison ! For Christ's sake . . .
let me go to prison ! . . .
END OF THE THIRD ACT.
THE FOURTH ACT
THE FOURTH ACT
SCENE..— Setting of First Act. PEPEL'S room is
gone, the partition is broken, and in the place
where KLESSHTSH sat there is no anvil.
(In the corner where PEPEL'S room was the
TARTAR lies, moving and groaning from
time to time. Behind the table
KLESSHTSH is seated; he is mending a
concertina for a leak in the bellows. At
the other end of the table — SATINE,
BARON, and NASTYA. In front of them
a bottle of vodka, three bottles of beer,
a large hunk of black bread. The ACTOR
is turning about on the stove and cough-
ing. Night. The scene is lighted by
a lamp in the middle of the table. Wind
in the yard.}
KLESSHTSH.
Y-yes . . . during all of that shindy . . . 'e
cleared out.
THE BARON.
Vanished before the police. . . . Just like
smoke dies before fire. . . .
SATINE.
Just as evildoers flee the faces of the just I
102 THE LOWER DEPTHS
NASTYA.
'E was good was the little old man 1 ... But
you're not men . . . you're mildew I
THE BARON.
(Drinks.} To your health, lady 1
SATINE.
An interesting old boy . . . yes 1 Nasturka
here — she's fallen in love with him.
NASTYA.
In love with 'im . . . arid dead in love with
'im I 'Onest 1 'E saw . . . everythin' . . .
understood everythin' . . .
SATINE.
(Smiling.} And on the whole ... he was
good for a lot of yer . . . like slops are when
you've no teeth.
THE BARON.
(Laughing.} Or a plaster on a boil. . . .
KLESSHTSH .
'E 'ad pity . . . you 'asn't no pity. . . .
SATINE.
Does it help yer if I pity yer?
KLESSHTSH.
You — may . . . it's not that you should 'ave
pity . . . but it is that yer shouldn't give
offence .
THE LOWER DEPTHS 163
THE TARTAR.
(Sitting on the planks and nursing his damaged
hand like a child.} The old 'un was good . . .
'ad the law in 'is soul ! 'Oo 'as the law in 'is
soul's good. Lose the law — and yer done for 1
THE BARON.
What law, Prince ?
THE TARTAR.
Just . . . different ones . . . you know
just . . .
THE BARON.
What then?
THE TARTAR.
Don't offend people — there's the law !
SATINE.
We call that " The code of punishments,
criminal and correctional."
THE BARON.
And, moreover — " an act for the regulation of
punishments to be inflicted by justices of the
peace." . . .
THE TARTAR.
Koran tells . . . your Koran ought to be yer
law. . . . The soul ought to be the Koran. . . .
Yes I
164 THE LOWER DEPTHS
KLESSHTSH.
(Testing concertina.} Wheezes, wheezes, damn
it ! ... but the Prince 'e says right . . . must
live — by the law ... by the gospel. . . .
SATINE.
Live it. ...
THE BARON.
Try it. ...
THE TARTAR.
Mahomet gave the Koran ; *e said : 'Ere's — the
law ! Do as it's written there. Then in course
of time — the Koran's not enough . . . time gives
its own law, a new law. . . . Each time gives
its own law. . . .
SATINE.
Just so. ... Time went by and gave " a code
of punishments "... A strong law . . . you
won't soon get rid of it. . . .
NASTYA.
(Bangs her glass on the table.} And what
for . . . why do I live here with you? I'll go
away . . . go off to some place ... to the end
of the world 1
THE BARON.
In your slippers, lady?
NASTYA.
Naked 1 On all fours !
THE LOWER DEPTHS 165
THE BARON.
Quite a picture, lady . . . if on all fours . . . .
NASTYA.
Yes, I'll crawl ! If it's only not to have to
look at your mug. Ah, 'ow it all revolts me !
All life ... all people ! . . .
SATINE.
Go on, and take the Actor with yer . . . 'e's
off on some goose chase . . . he's learned that,
at exactly half a verst from the end of the world,
there's a 'ospital for organons. . . .
THE ACTOR.
(Getting up from the stove.) Or-ga-nisms—
yer fool !
SATINE.
For organons poisoned with alcohol. . . .
THE ACTOR.
Yes, he'll go ! he'll go ! just see !
THE BARON.
He — who, monsieur?
THE ACTOR.
I !
THE BARON.
Merci, servant of the Goddess . . . what's 'er
name? The Goddess of plays, of tragedy . . .
what on earth's she called?
106 THE LOWER DEPTHS
THE ACTOR.
The Muse, idiot ! Not a Goddess— but — a
Muse !
SATINE.
Hera . . . Aphrodite . . . Atropos ... to
'ell with em ! It's all the old man . . . that's
screwed it into the Actor . . . d'yer see, Baron ?
THE BARON.
The old 'un's — an ass. . . .
THE ACTOR.
Clods ! Goths ! Mel-po-me-ne ! Heart-
less creature, you shall see — he'll go ! " Get ye
hence, ye dismal spirits " . . . verses of Be*ranger
. . . yes ! He'll find 'im a place where there's
no ... no ...
THE BARON.
No, anything, monsieur !
THE ACTOR.
Yes ! Nothing ! " That ditch shall be my
tomb, sick and exhausted I die "... Why do
you live ? Why ?
THE BARON.
You 1 " Kean or genius and excess " : don't
bellow 1
THE LOWER DEPTHS 167
THE ACTOR.
You lie ! I will bellow I
NASTYA.
(Looking up from the table , wrings her hands.)
Shriek ! Let 'em listen !
THE BARON.
I don't quite take you, lady !
SATINE.
Quiet, Baron ! Oh, 'ell ! ... Let 'em shout
. . . split their own ears ... let 'em ! That's
sense, too. . . . Don't 'inder folk, as the old
man put it ... yes, yer know, that old bird
he's just turned all our people's heads. . . .
KLESSHTSH.
'E pointed 'em some place . . . and then —
never showed 'em the way. . . .
THE BARON.
The old 'un was a humbug. . . .
NASTYA.
You lie ! You're a 'umbug yerself !
THE BARON.
Silence, lady I
KLESSHTSH.
The truth , . , 'e didn't like it, the old 'im.
168 THE LOWER DEPTHS
didn't. 'E stood firm against the truth . . . and
right 'e was I Yes — where 's there truth 'ere ? But
without it — yer can't breathe. . . . Look at the
Prince there . . . 'e's spoiled 'is 'and workin*
.... 'e'll 'ave to 'ave 'is 'and sawed off, see
now . . . and there's some of yer truth !
SATINE.
(Striking his hand on the table.} Silence !
You're all of yer — cattle ! Boys — shut up about
the old man 1 (Calmer.') You, Baron — are the
worst of all I ... Not a thing do yer under-
stand . . . and — yer lie ! The old 'un's no hum-
bug ! What is — the truth? Man — there's the
truth ! He understood that . . . you — don't 1
You're — as dead as bricks. ... I understand the
old man . . . yes. He lied . . . but out of
pity fer you, devil take yer ! There's lots of
people that lie out of pity for their neighbours.
. . . I — know ! I've read ! Beautifully, in-
spiredly, affectingly they lie I There's the con-
soling lie, the preceptive lie ... the lie to
justify the burden that crushes the hand of the
labourer ... to lay blame on the starving. I
— know about lies ! The weak of spirit and them
that live on the sap of others — it's them that need
lying . . . some it supports, and others — it
screens. But him — that's his own master . . .
who don't depend on others and don't feed on
others why should he lie? Lying's the religion
of slaves and masters. . . . Truth's the God of
the free man !
THE LOWER DEPTHS 169
THE BARON.
Bravo ! Finely spoken ! I — agree ! You talk
—like a decent man !
»
SATINE.
Shan't a rogue sometimes speak the truth,
when decent folk so often talk like rogues ? . . .
I've forgotten a lot, but — I shall know something !
The old 'un ! He had brains. ... He ...
worked on me like acid does on a dirty old coin.
. . . Let's drink to his health ! Fill up. ...
(NASTYA pours out a glass of beer and gives
it to SATINE. He laughs,)
SATINE.
The old man lives his own way . . . looks at
everything through his own eyes. Once I asked
him: "Daddy! why are men alive?" . . .
(Trying to speak in LUKA'S voice and to
imitate his demeanour.)
" Why — they live for the better man, dearie !
Now, let's say, there's carpenters and the rest —
masses — people. . . . And then out of them a
carpenter's born ... a carpenter such as never
was in all the world : above 'em all : never
was his like fer carpent'ring. 'E stamps 'imself
on the whole carpent'ring trade . . . shoves the
whole thing twenty years forward. . . . And so
for all the others. . . . Locksmiths then . . .
bootmakers and other working folk . . . and all
the agricultural . . . and even the gentry— they
170 THE LOWER DEPTHS
live for the better man ! Each thinks 'e's livin'
fer 'imself, yet it turns out it's for that better
man. A 'undred years . . . and maybe longer,
we 'as to go on livin' till the better man ! "
(NASTYA looks fixedly into SATINE'S face.
KLESSHTSH stops working at the con-
certina, and also listens. The BARON,
with his head lowered, drums with his
fingers softly on the table. ACTOR has
got off the stove.}
SATINE.
" All, dearie boy, all in their way live for
the better man ! Therefore you must show re-
spect unto all ... it's clear we can't know who
'e is, why 'e was born, and what 'e can do ... 'e
may have been born for our 'appiness ... to
bring us 'elp. . . . Arid) the most of all ...
that we must respect children . . . the little bits
of mites ! For the little children — there must
be no cramping ! Never interfere with the
children : respect the mites ! " (Pause.}
THE BARON.
(Thoughtfully.} M-yes. . . . For the better
man? So ... it was in our family ... an
old family ... of Catherine's time. . . .
Noblemen . . . originally French. ... In the
service rose and rose. Under Nicholas, my grand-
father, Gustave Debille, held a high post. . . .
Riches. . . . Hundreds of serfs . . . horses
, , . cooks.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 171
NASTYA.
Lies ! 'E never did !
THE BARON.
(Leaping up . ) What ? Well . . . and after !
NASTYA.
'E never did !
THE BARON.
(Shouts out.} A house in Moscow ! A house
in Petersburg ! Carriages . . . with coats -of -
arms.
(KLESSHTSH takes the concertina^ gets up,
and goes to one side, from where he
watches the scene.)
NASTYA.
Never 'ad !
THE BARON.
Silence 1 I say . . . ten footmen ! . . .
NASTYA.
(With exultation.) N -never 'ad !
THE BARON.
I'll kill you !
NASTYA.
(Preparing to run.) There was no carriages !
SATINE.
Stop, Nasturka ! Don't rile 'im.
172 THE LOWER DEPTHS
THE BARON.
Just wait, yer spawn ! My grandfather . . .
NASTYA.
'Ad no gran'father ! 'Ad nothin' !
(SATINE laughs.)
THE BARON.
(Worn out with rage sits on the bench.)
Satine, tell 'er . . . the slut. . . . You, too
. . . you're laughing ! You . . . too — don't
believe me ? (Cries in despair, pounding his fists
on the table.) It's true, damn you all !
NASTYA.
(Triumphant.) A -ah, got 'im. D'yer know
now 'ow it is when people won't believe yer ?
KLESSHTSH.
(Returning to table.) I thought there'd be a
fight. . . .
THE TARTAR.
Ah ! Silly folk ! Very bad !
THE BARON.
I ... won't let myself be jeered at. I've
got proofs, documents, damn it !
SATINE.
Stole them ! And forget about your uncle's
carriages ... in a carriage that was you can't
go anywhere.
THE LOWER DEPTHS 173
THE BARON.
That she should dare, anyhow I
NASTYA.
D'yer hear 'im? Should dare I ...
SATINE .
'E's only laughing I How's she any worse than
you ? Though in her past we'll take it that she's
had no carriages and — grandfathers, or even a
father and mother. . . .
THE BARON.
(Growing calmer.) Devil take yer 1 ...
you're able ... to judge things . . . coolly.
. . . But it seems time. . . . I've no strength of
character. . . .
SATINE.
Get some 1 It's of use. . . . (Pause.)
Nastya, er yer going to the hospital ?
NASTYA.
Why.?
SATINE.
To Natasha.
NASTYA.
What er yer thinking of.? Been out long since
. . . came out and — disappeared ! No findin'
'er.
174 THE LOWER DEPTHS
SATINE.
That's to say — she's a goner.
KLESSHTSH.
It's interestin' to see who's goin' to floor which ?
Vaska — Vassilisa, or she him?
NASTYA.
Vassilisa'll win I She's cunning. But Vaska
— he'll go to penal servitude. . . .
SATINE.
For manslaughter — only to prison. . . .
NASTYA.
Pity. You're better off — in penal servitude.
. . . That's where yer ought all to be ... in
penal servitude ... all mixed up together . . .
all mixed up ... like rubbish ... in the
dust-hole.
SATINE.
(Astonished.) What are you saying? Are
you mad?
THE BARON.
Now I'm just going to give her one . . . for
her insults !
NASTYA.
Try it ! Touch me !
THE BARON.
I'll try it I
THE LOWER DEPTHS 175
SATINE.
Let be ! Don't touch her . . . give no
offence to folk ! I can't get him out of my head
— that old man 1 (Laughs.} Give no offence to
folk, and if a man does me an offence — what I
call a life -long offence— what then? Forgive?
Nothing I No matter I
THE BARON.
(To NASTYA.) You ought to know that I'm—
I'm on a different level to you! You .;. ,
muck I
NASTYA.
Ah, you poor wretch I Why you . . . you
live on me like a worm does in a little apple 1
(Laughter of the men.)
KLESSHTSH .
You . . . stupid I A little apple !
THE BARON.
You can't ... be angry . . . she's such an
idiot I
NASTYA.
Laughing? That's a lie too I You don't find
it funny I
THE ACTOR.
(Gloomily.) Thrash 'em 1
176 THE LOWER DEPTHS
NASTYA.
If only I ... could ! I'd give yer . . .
(Takes cup from table and throws it on
the ground.)
that's 'ow 1
THE TARTAR.
Why break the crockery? La ... yer
ninny 1
THE BARON.
(Getting up.) No, now I'm goin' ... to
teach her manners .
NASTYA.
(Running away.) Go to the devil I
SATINE.
(After her.) Here ! Stop ! What are you
running for ?
NASTYA.
Wolves 1 may yer choke 1 yer wolves I
THE ACTOR.
(Gloomily . ) Amen .
THE TARTAR.
O-o. She's a bad woman — the Russian
woman 1 Scolding wilful ! Not the Tartar woman
— the Tartar woman knows the law I
THE LOWER DEPTHS 177
KLESSHTSH.
Give 'er a shaking.
THE BARON.
The huzzy !
KLESSHTSH.
(Trying the concertina.} Finished ! But 'er
master didn't come for 'er. . . . 'E's on the
loose. . . .
SATINE.
Come on — drink !
KLESSHTSH.
Thanks ! Bedtime soon. . >' .
SATINE.
Are you getting used to us?
KLESSHTSH.
(Having had a drink, goes over to the corner
where his planks are.} It's all right. . . .
Everywhere — there's men ... at first— yer don't
see that . . . then — you look round, you find
that they're all men . . . it's all right !
(The TARTAR spreads something on his
planks, goes on his knees, and prays.)
THE BARON.
(Pointing the TARTAR out to SATINE.) Look I
12
178 THE LOWER DEPTHS
SATINE.
Stop ! He's a good chap. . . . Let him
alone ! (Laughs.} I to-day — am good. . . .
Devil knows why !
THE BARON.
You're always good when you're drunk — and
clever. . . .
SATINE.
When I'm drunk ... I like everything. Yes.
. . . He — prays ? Fine ! A man can believe or
not believe . . . that's his affair I A man is
free ... he pays for everything himself ! . . .
for belief, for unbelief, for love, for wisdom. A
man pays everything himself, and therefore is—
free ! . . . The man — that's the truth ! What
is man? . . . It's not you, not me, not them —
no ! It's you, I, them, the old 'un, Napoleon,
Mahomet ... in one ! (Draws in the air the
face of a man with his finger.) D'yer see?
That's prodigious ! In that is the beginning and
end of all. All is — in man, all for man ! There
exists only man, all the rest — is the work of his
hands and of his brains ! Man ! That's mag-
nificent ! That sounds . . . mighty. Mankind !
You must respect mankind ! Not pity him . . .
not lower him with pity . . . must respect him I
Let's drink to Mankind ! Baron ! (Gets up.)
It's good — to feel yourself a man ! I'm a ticket -
of -leave, a murderer, a scoundrel — yes, I am !
When I walk the streets people eye me for a
THE LOWER DEPTHS 179
crook . . . and they draw away, and they glare
after me, and they often say to me, " Loafer ! black-
guard 1 work ! work ! " Why ! To fill my belly?
(Laughs,) I've always despised people who
worry too much about stuffing themselves. It
isn't that, Baron? That isn't it. Man is higher
than that. Man is higher than repletion !
THE BARON.
(Nodding his head.) You're getting at it
. . . that's prime . . . that's the thing to warm
one's heart. I haven't got that. ... I don't
know how ! (Looks round — then softly, cau-
tiously) I, brother, I'm afraid . . . sometimes.
D'you see? Get in a funk . . . because — what
after ?
SATINE.
Rubbish ! There's nothing that a man should
fear?
THE BARON.
Yer know . . . from when first I can remem-
ber . . . there's been inside my noddle a sort
of fog. Never anything have I understood. I'm
... in some way — I'm clumsy. It seems to
me all my life I've done nothing but dress up
. . . and why? Went to school — wore the uni-
form of the Institute for the Sons of the Nobility
. . . but what did I learn? Don't remember.
. . . Married — in a frock-coat, and an over-
coat . . . but I picked out the wrong wife and —
why? Don't understand. . . . Squandered all I
180 THE LOWER DEPTHS
had, wore some sort of a grey pea-jacket and red
trousers . . . but where did it all get to? Never
noticed. . . . Entered the Court of Exchequer
. . . uniform, and a cap with a cockade . . .
made away with some Government money — they
put me into the convict's gown . . . then — I got
into this lot here. . . . And all ... like in a
dream . . .ah? That's funny. . . .
SATINE.
Not very. ... I should say — stupid. . . .
THE BARON.
Yes . . . and I think it's stupid. . . . But I
must have been born for some reason. . . .Eh?
SATINE.
(Smiling.} Probably. . . . Man is born for
the better man ! (Shaking his head.) So ...
it's all right 1
THE BARON.
That . . . Nastya ! . . . Where's she run
off to ? I'll go, and see . . . where she is ?
For after all ... she . . .
(Goes out. A pause.)
THE ACTOR.
Tartar ! (Pause.) Prince !
(The TARTAR turns his head.)
THE ACTOR.
For me ... pray. . , ..•
THE LOWER DEPTHS 181
THE TARTAR.
Why?
THE ACTOR.
Pray for me. . . .
THE TARTAR.
(After a silence.) Pray yerself 1
THE ACTOR.
(Gets quickly from the stove, goes to the table,
pours himself some vodka with trembling hands,
drinks, and almost runs into the passage.) I'm
off !
SATINE.
Hi, you, off where?
(Enter MYEDVYEDYEFF in a wadded
woman's jacket, and BOOBNOFF ; both
drunk, but not very drunk. In one
hand BOOBNOFF is carrying a packet
of cracknels; he has a bottle of
vodka in one armpit, and another stick-
ing out of the pocket of his pea-
jacket.)
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
A camel — it's a kind . . . of a donkey I Only
with no ears. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Chuck it ! Yerself — yer a kind of a donkey.
182 THE LOWER DEPTHS
MYEDVYEDYEFF .
A camel, it hasn't got no ears at all ...
it — hears with its nostrils. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
(To SATINE.) Chum 1 I've been looking for
yer in all the trakteers — all the stills 1 Take
the bottle, all my 'ands is full 1
SATINE.
You — put the cracknels on the table, then you'll
have one hand free. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
True 1 You're right. . . . Jumble, look at it
all I So there, eh? ... Wire boy.
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Sharpers . . . they're all clever ... I
know 1 They 'ave got to be clever. A good
man he — may be stupid and good, but a wrong
'un, 'e's bound to 'ave wits . But, about the camel,
yer know . . . yer can get me up on 'im . . .
'e 'asn't no 'orns, not no teeth. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Where's every one? Why's there no one 'ere?
'Ere, get up ... it's my treat !
SATINE.
You'll soon drink all you've got, blockhead 1
THE LOWER DEPTHS 183
BOOBNOFF.
Soon, yer say? This time I've gathered some
capital — a little pile. . . . When ! Where's
When?
KLESSHTSH.
(Going to table.) Not here. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
Ooo-r-r ! Yer peacock I Don't bark, don't
growl I Drink, be jolly, don't turn yer nose up.
... I treats everybody 1 Why, mates, I loves
to stand treat ! If I was rich ... I'd ...
I'd build a free trakteer ! Yes, my God I With
music, and a troupe of singers. . . . Come,
drink, eat, listen to the singers . . . gladden yer
'earts. A man's a sad creature . . . come along
to me to my free trakteer I Saline 1 For you
. . . you . . . 'ere, take 'alf of all my capital !
This way 1
SATINE.
Give it me all in a lump 1
BOOBNOFF.
The 'ole capital? At once? Right ! Then
. . . here's a rouble . . . and here's a twenty
kopyeks ... a five kopyeks ... a two kopyeks
. . . all. . . .
SATINE.
That'll do I It's safer with me. I'll play cards
with it !
184 THE LOWER DEPTHS
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
I am — a witness . . . the money is placed in
your keepin' . . . 'ow much is it ?
BOOBNOFF.
You? You're a camel ... we want no wit-
nesses. . . .
ALYOSHKA.
(Comes in barefooted.} Fellows I my feet are
soaking.
BOOBNOFF.
Go and soak yourself . . . only all over 1 I
like you. You sing and you play . . . that's
very good ! But, drinking — that's a poor game 1
That does 'arm, brother ; drinking does 'arm !
ALYOSHKA.
Why, I look at yer ! And it's only when yer
drunk yer anythin' like a man. . . . Klesshtsh !
My concertina — mended? (Dances, and sings:)
If my nozzle weren't so bonny,
Then my gossip wouldn't love me. . . .
I'm frozen, fellows 1 Cold 1
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Um. ... If one was to ask : 'Oo is that
gossip ?
THE LOWER DEPTHS 185
BOOBNOFF.
Keep still. You're no one now, brother. . . .
You're no " bobby " in these days . . . you're
done with ! No " bobby " nor no uncle. . . .
ALYOSHKA.
You're just — auntie's darling hubby !
BOOBNOFF.
One of yer nieces is — in gaol, the other's
dyin'
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
(Proudly.) Yer lie ! She's not dyin' : she's
disappeared without tellin' no one 1
(SATINE laughs.)
BOOBNOFF.
All the same, brother I A man with no niece —
'e's not an uncle !
ALYOSHKA.
Your Excellency ! The retired drum -major I
My gossip — has 'er savings,
And I've not got a penny!
Oh, aren't I a merry boy?
Oh, I am so good!
It's cold 1
(WHEN enters; then — until the end of the
act — some other male and female
figures. They undress, get on to the
planks, snore.)
186 THE LOWER DEPTHS
WHEN.
Boobnoff? What made yer 'ook it?
BOOBNOFF.
Come 'ere I Sit down . . . let's sing, mate I
My beloved . . . eh ?
THE TARTAR.
In the night yer must sleep I Sing songs in
the day !
SATINE.
That's all right, Prince. You — come here I
THE TARTAR.
How — all right? There'll be a noise. . . .
When there's singing, it means a noise. . . .
BOOBNOFF.
{Going to him.) Prince I 'ow's — yer 'and?
'Ave they cut it off? ...
WHEN.
Means the gutter for you, Hassan 1 Without
a hand — what er yer good for ? A man's valued
by 'is 'ands and 'is back. . . . No hand — no
man I Go and drink I Nothing like it I
(KVASHNYA comes in.)
KVASHNYA.
Ah, my dear good people 1 Out in the yard, out
in the yard ! The cold, the slush — is my man
here? Mannie !
THE LOWER DEPTHS 187
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
Me?
KVASHNYA.
Got on my jacket again . . . and it seems
to me ... a bit on, ah? What d'yer mean
by it?
MYEDVYEDYEFF.
On account of the birthday . . . Boobnoff
. . . and — the cold . . . the slush 1
KVASHNYA.
Look at me . . . the slush ! No foolery.
. . . Come to bed. . . .
MYEDVYEDYEFF..
(Going into the kitchen..} Sleep, yes ... I
will. ... I want to ... it's time !
(Exit.}
SATINE.
Why are yer so beastly strict with him?
KVASHNYA.
It's the only way, my friend. A man like
'im 'as got to be kept strict. We keep 'ouse
together, now ; I thought 'e would be a 'elp to
me . . . seein' as 'e's 'ad discipline, but you—
you're a disorderly crew. . . . I've got my
188 THE LOWER DEPTHS
woman's view ... let 'im go gettin' drunk.
That don't suit my book !
>
SATINE.
You've chosen your help wrong. . ... .
KVASHNYA.
No — better than you . . . you'd never live
with me ... a fellow like you 1 I'd see yer
one week in twenty . . . you'd gamble away me
and my very insides 1
SATINE.
(Laughs.} That's true, my girl ! I
would. . . .
KVASHNYA.
So now ! Alyoshka !
ALYOSHKA.
Yes — here am I 1
KVASHNYA.
What's this you've been saying about me ?
ALYOSHKA.
I? No 'arm. I've said, there, I've said, there's
a woman ! Wonderful woman 1 Flesh, fat bones
—good forty stone, and brains — not a ha'porth I
THE LOWER DEPTHS 189
KVASHNYA.
And there you're wrong ! I've got a deal of
brains. No, and why did yer say that I beat
my man?
ALYOSHKA.
I thought that was beatin' 'im when you seized
'old of 'is 'air. . . .
KVASHNYA.
(Smiling.) Fool ! Then just you don't see !
Why do you carry tales out of school ? And
yer 'urt 'is feelin's too. . . . It's cause of your
talk 'e's took to drinkin'.
ALYOSHKA.
Then the sayin's true, then, even a bear likes
drink I
(KLESSHTSH and SATINE laugh.)
KVASHNYA.
You're a pretty sort of man, you are, Alyoshka !
ALYOSHKA.
I'm the very first superfine sort of man for
any job ! I just go where my eyes lead me !
BOOBNOFF.
(By the TARTAR'S planks.) Come along ! It's
no use . . . they'll not let us sleep 1 Come and
drink . . . the night through, When !
190 THE LOWER DEPTHS
WHEN.
Drink? Why not. . . .
ALYOSHKA.
And I'll play to yer !
SATINE.
Let's 'ear yer !
THE TARTAR.
Well, Boobnoff, yer devil — fetch the wine !
We'll drink, we'll rollick — death comes . . .
we've got to die !
BOOBNOFF.
Pour 'im out, Satine I When, squat ! Ah,
pals ! Does a man want much ? I've drunk a
bit and — happy ! When ! Strike me . . . lad !
I'll sing. . . . I'll pay !
WHEN.
(Sings .-)
The sun it rises and it sets . . .
BOOBNOFF.
(Going on.}
In my prison all is dark!
(The door is opened suddenly. BARON on
the threshold.)
THE LOWER DEPTHS 191
THE BARON.
Hi ... you ! Go ... go over there ! On
the waste . . .out there . . . the Actor . . .
he's hanged himself !
(Silence. AIL look at the BARON. NASTYA
appears behind his back, and slowly,
with wide -opened eyes, goes over to
the table.}
SATINE.
(In a low voice.} Ah . . . he's spoiled the
song . . . the fool !
THE END.
Sjjt (Jlrtsljam TQtttt,
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED
WOKING AND LONDON.
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