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The Lower Depths Page 9


  ZOB. It’s your own affair, Hassanka! You’ll be good for nothing without your hand. We’re judged by our hands and backs—without the pride of your hand, you’re no longer a human being. Tobaccocarting—that’s your business! Come on—have a drink of vodka—and stop worrying!

  KVASHNYA [comes in]. Ah, my beloved fellow-lodgers! It’s horrible outside—snow and slush . . . is my policeman here?

  MIEDVIEDIEFF. Right here!

  KVASHNYA. Wearing my blouse again? And drunk, eh? What’s the idea?

  MIEDVIEDIEFF. In celebration of Bubnoff’s birthday . . . besides, it’s cold . . .

  KVASHNYA. Better look out—stop fooling about and go to sleep!

  MIEDVIEDIEFF [goes to kitchen]. Sleep? I can—I want to—it’s time— [Exit]

  SATINE. What’s the matter? Why are you so strict with him?

  KVASHNYA. You can’t be otherwise, friend. You have to be strict with his sort. I took him as a partner. I thought he’d be of some benefit to me—because he’s a military man—and you’re a rough lot . . . and I am a woman—and now he’s turned drunkard—that won’t do at all!

  SATINE.You picked a good one for partner!

  KVASHNYA. Couldn’t get a better one. You wouldn’t want to live with me . . . you think you’re too fine! And even if you did it wouldn’t last more than a week . . . you’d gamble me and all I own away at cards!

  SATINE [roars with laughter]. That’s true, landlady—I’d gamble . . .

  KVASHNYA. Yes, yes. Alyoshka!

  ALYOSHKA. Here he is—I, myself!

  KVASHNYA. What do you mean by gossiping about me?

  ALYOSHKA. I? I speak out everything—whatever my conscience tells me. There, I say, is a wonderful woman! Splendid meat, fat, bones—over four hundred pounds! But brains—? Not an ounce!

  KVASHNYA. You’re a liar! I’ve lot of brains! What do you mean by saying I beat my policeman?

  ALYOSHKA. I thought you did—when you pulled him by the hair!

  KVASHNYA [laughs]. You fool! You aren’t blind, are you? Why wash dirty linen in public? And—it hurts his feelings—that’s why he took to drink . . .

  ALYOSHKA. It’s true, evidently, that even a chicken likes vodka . . .

  [SATINE and KLESHTCH roar with laughter.]

  KVASHNYA. Go on—show your teeth! What sort of a man are you anyway, Alyoshka?

  ALYOSHKA. Oh—I am first-rate! Master of all trades! I follow my nose!

  BUBNOFF [near THE TARTAR’s bunk]. Come on! At all events—we won’t let you sleep! We’ll sing all night. Zob!

  ZOB. Sing-? All right . . .

  ALYOSHKA. And I’ll play . . .

  SATINE. We’ll listen!

  THE TARTAR [smiling]. Well—Bubnoff—you devil—bring the vodka—we’ll drink—we’ll have a hell of a good time! The end will come soon enough—and then we’ll be dead!

  BUBNOFF. Fill his glass, Satine! Zob—sit down! Ah—brothers— what does a man need after all? There, for instance, I’ve had a drink— and I’m happy! Zob! Start my favorite song! I’ll sing—and then I’ll cry. . . .

  ZOB [begins to sing]

  “The sun rises and sets . . .”

  BUBNOFF [joining in]

  “But my prison is all dark. . . .”

  [Door opens quickly.]

  THE BARON [on the threshold; yells]. Hey—you—come—come here! Out in the waste—in the yard . . . over there . . . The actor—he’s hanged himself. . . .

  [Silence. All stare at THE BARON. Behind him appears NASTYA, and slowly, her eyes wide with horror, she walks to the table.]

  SATINE [in a matter-of-fact voice]. Damned fool—he ruined the song . . . !

  CURTAIN

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