PRAVOLYUBOV (smacking his lips at the word “pork”). A privy counselor . . . (Blushes for humanity.) So young and yet so depraved . . . Are you aware, my goosir, that a privy counselor is the equivalent of a lieutenant general in the army? How can you fail to understand that? What crude lack of understanding, what profanity! (Sighs.) What am I to do with you now? What? (Grows pensive, but soon a personal feeling transcends his sense of duty, and the prey slips from his grasp.) I cannot look at you, pathetic, unhappy young man! You disgust me, you are pitiful! Get out of here! May my scorn serve as your punishment!
UPRYAMOV, not at all contrite, with an ambiguous smile, sets off for the editorial offices.
NOTES
1 First published in Splinters (Oskolki) 5 (February 4, 1884), p. 5. Moscow readers were surprised that it passed the censorship.
2 Joke names: Pravdolyubov = Lover of Truth; Upryamov = Upright.
UNCLEAN TRAGEDIANS AND LEPROUS PLAYWRIGHTS1
Heчиcтыe трa„иkи и прokaжeнньie ‰рaмaтyр„и
A Horribly-Dreadfully-Excitingly-Desperate Trrragedy
by My Brother’s Brother
Lots of acts, even more scenes
CHARACTERS
MIKH. VAL. LENTOVSKY,2 man and impresario
TARNOVSKY, a harrowing man; on a first-name basis with devils, whales, and crocodiles; pulse 225, temperature 109.4°
THE AUDIENCE, a lady amiable in every respect; eats whatever is put in front of her
CHARLES XII, King of Sweden;3 the manners of a fireman
THE BARONESS, a brunette with a modicum of talent; does not turn down insignificant roles
GENERAL EHRENSWERD, a frightfully big man with the voice of a mastodon
DELAGARDI, an ordinary man; plays the role with the free-and-easy manner of. . . a prompter
STELLA, the impresario’s sister4
BURL, a man brought in on Svobodin’s5 shoulders.
HANSEN6
OTHERS
EPILOGUE.*
The crater of a volcano. At a desk, covered in blood, sits TARNOVSKY; instead of a head, a skull sits on his shoulders; sulphur blazes in his mouth; out of his nostrils leap sneering green imps. He dips his pen not in an inkwell but in the lava that witches are stirring. It’s horrifying. Flying through the air are the shudders that run up and down your spine. Far upstage shivery shakes are hanging on red-hot hooks. Thunder and lightning. The calendar of Aleksey Suvorin7 (the county secretary) is lying right there as stoic as a process-server, as it predicts the collision of the earth with the sun, the destruction of the universe, and the price rise in pharmaceutical drugs. Chaos, horror, terror . . . The reader’s fancy can provide the rest.
TARNOVSKY (gnawing his pen). How am I to write this sort of thing, currrse it! I can’t come up with anything! There’s already been a Trip to the Moon . . . there’s been a Vagabond, too8. . . (Drinks boiling oil.) Have to come up with something else . . . something that’ll make the merchant’s wives across the river dream of devils three days running . . . (Rubs his cranium.) Hm . . . Bestir yourselves, great brains! (He thinks: thunder and lightning; the volley of a thousand cannons is heard, performed according to a design by Mr. Shekhtel;9 out of the cracks crawl a dragon, vampires, and serpents; into the crater falls a great steamer trunk, out of which pops Lentovsky, clad in a big poster.)
LENTOVSKY. Greetings, Tarnovsky!
TARNOVSKY
(
together
). All hail, my liege!
WITCHES
OTHERS
LENTOVSKY. Well then? Is the play ready, currrse it! (Waves a cudgel.)
TARNOVSKY. No, no way, Mikhail Valentinovich. I think, y’see, I sit and I come up with nothing. You have tasked me with too hard a task! You want my play to freeze the audience’s blood, an earthquake to take place in the hearts of the merchant’s wives from across the river, my monologues to make the lamps go out . . . But don’t you agree that such a thing is beyond the powers of even so great a dramatist as Tarnovsky! (He is embarrassed at having praised himself.)
LENTOVSKY. Rrrubbish, currrse it! More gunpowder, Bengal lights, highfa-lutin monologues—and it’s done! For the sake of the costumes, cursssse it, set it in the highest society . . . Betrayal . . . Prison . . . The prisoner’s beloved is forcibly married to the villain . . . In the villain’s role we’ll cast Pisaryov10 . . . Next, an escape from prison . . . gunshots . . . I won’t spare the gunpowder . . . Next, a baby, whose noble origins will be disclosed only in the sequel . . . And at the very end more gunshots, another fire, and the triumph of virtue . . . In short, concoct something hackneyed, the way the Rocamboles and Counts of Monte-Cristo11 concoct things . . . (Thunder, lightning, hoarfrost, dew. The volcano erupts. LENTOVSKY is expelled.)
ACT ONE
The AUDIENCE, USHERS, HANSEN, and others.
USHERS (helping the audience members off with their fur coats). A tip, an’t please your worship! (Not getting a tip, they grab the audience members by the tails of their coats.) O, black ingratitude!!! (Are ashamed for humanity.)
ONE OF THE AUDIENCE. What, is Lentovsky recovered?
USHER. Started fighting again, which means he’s recovered!12
HANSEN (dressing in his dressing room). I’ll amaze them! I’ll show them! All the papers will start talking!
(The action continues, but the reader is impatient; he is thirsting for Act Two, and therefore — curtain!)
ACT TWO
The court of Charles XII. Behind his back, VALTS13 is swallowing swords and red-hot coals. Thunder and lightning.
CHARLES XII and his courtiers.
CHARLES (strides across the stage and rolls his eyes). Delagardi! You have betrayed the fatherland! Hand over your sword to the captain and be so good as to march into prison!
DELAGARDI (utters a few heartfelt words and exits).
CHARLES. Tarnovsky! In your heart-rending play you have made me live through an extra ten years! Be so good as to head for prison! (To the Baroness.) You love Delagardi and have a baby by him. In the interests of the plot I’m not supposed to know about that incident and am supposed to marry you off to a man you don’t love. Marry General Ehrenswerd.