Читать книгу The Essential Russian Plays & Short Stories - Максим Горький - Страница 238

—It is a very great honor to be a guest at Man's ball.

—You may add, it is an honor of which very few have been deemed worthy. The whole city tried to get themselves invited, but only a very few succeeded. My husband, my children, and I are quite proud of the honor Man has showed us.

—I am really sorry for those who were not able to get here. They won't sleep the whole night from sheer envy, and to-morrow they'll say nasty things about the ball and call it a bore.

—They never saw such magnificence.

—Or such wonderful wealth and luxury.

—Or, I dare say, such charming, free and easy gayety.

—If this isn't gay, I should like to know what is.

—Oh, what's the use of talking? You can't convince people consumed by jealousy. They'll tell us we didn't sit on gilded chairs, absolutely not.

—They'll say that the chairs were of the commonest sort, bought at second hand.

—That the illumination was not by electricity, but just by tallow candles.

—Say candle stumps.

—Or dirty lamps.

—They'll have the impudence to maintain that the mouldings in Man's house are not gilded.

—And that the broad picture frames are not made of gold. It seems to me I can hear the very ring of it.

—You can see its glitter. That's quite sufficient, I should think.

—I have rarely had the pleasure of hearing such music.

—It is divine harmony. It transports the soul to higher spheres.

—I should think the music good enough, considering the money paid for it. It is the best trio in the city. They play on the most important and solemn occasions.

—If you listen awhile, it compels your absolute attention. After a ball at Man's, my children keep singing the tune a long time.

—I sometimes think I hear it in the street. I look around—no musicians, no music.

—What I like especially in these musicians is the great effort they make when they play. They know the price they're paid and don't want to get the money for nothing. That's very decent of them.

—It seems as if they became a part of their instruments, their efforts are so great.

—Or as if the instruments became part of them.

—How rich!

—How magnificent!

—How brilliant!

—How rich!

[For some time the two expressions, "How rich! How magnificent!" are repeated from different parts of the room, uttered abruptly, like a bark.

—Beside this ballroom there are fourteen other magnificent rooms in Man's house. I have seen them all. The dining-room has such a huge fireplace that you can put a whole log into it. There are magnificent guest-rooms and a beautiful boudoir. A large bedroom, and over the pillows on the beds—just fancy!—canopies!

—Why, how wonderful! Canopies!

—Did you hear? Canopies!

—Permit me to continue. For their son, the little boy, they have a beautiful bright room of golden yellow wood. It looks as if the sun were shining into it all the time.

—He is such a fine boy. He has curly hair that looks like the rays of the sun.

—That's true. When you look at him you wonder whether the sun has risen.

—And when you look at his eyes you think: "Autumn is, gone, and the blue sky is here again."

—Man loves his son madly. He bought him a pony for horseback riding, a nice snow-white pony. My children—

—Pray, let me continue. Have I told you yet about the swimming-pool?

—No. No.

—A swimming-pool, a perfect marvel.

—What, a swimming-pool!

—Yes. And further on is Man's study, full of books, books, books.

They say he's a very learned man.

—You can see it by the books.

—I have seen his garden.

—I haven't.

—It was entrancing, I must say. Imagine an emerald-green lawn kept beautifully mowed and trimmed at the edges. In the middle a path of fine red sand.

—Flowers—even palms.

—Yes, even palms. And all the trees trimmed as carefully and precisely as the lawn, some cut in the shape of pyramids, others in the shape of green columns. There's a lovely fountain and little plaster elves and deer scattered all around in the grass.

—How rich!

—How magnificent!

—How brilliant!

—How rich!

—Man did me the honor of showing me his stables and barns. I had to tell him how much I admired his horses and carriages. I was particularly impressed by his motor car.

—Think of it, he has seven servants; seven—a chef, a woman-cook, two maids, gardeners—

—You forget the coachman and the chauffeur.

—Yes, of course, the coachman and the chauffeur.

—And they themselves do nothing at all. They are too fine.

—You must admit, it is a great honor to have been invited to Man's ball.

—Don't you find the music somewhat monotonous?

—No, I don't, and I'm surprised you do. Don't you see what kind of musicians they are?

—I should like to hear such music all my life. That's what I say.

There's something, in that music that stirs me.

—Me too.

—Me too.

—It is a delicious sensation to abandon oneself to dreams of happiness under the influence of this music!

—To transport oneself in fancy to the astral spheres!

—How fine!

—How rich!

—How magnificent!

[These phrases are repeated.

—I notice a stir at that door. Man and his Wife will soon pass through the hall.

—The musicians are working away for dear life.

—There they are!

—They're coming! Look, they're coming!

_[Man, his Wife, his Friends, and his Enemies appear in the door on the right, cross the room diagonally to the door on the left. The dancers go on dancing, but part to make way for them. The musicians play desperately loud and out of tune. Man has aged greatly. His long hair and long beard are beginning to turn gray. But his face is manly and handsome, and he walks with calm dignity and an air of coldness. He looks straight ahead of him, as if not noticing those around him. His Wife has also aged, but she is still beautiful and walks leaning on his arm. She too seems not to notice the people around her, but looks straight ahead, with a rather strange, almost fixed expression. Both are richly dressed.

His Friends follow directly behind Man. They resemble one another very much—noble faces, high and candid foreheads, honest eyes. They walk proudly, throwing out their chests, stepping firmly and confidently, and looking, now to this side, now to that, with condescension and slight disdain. They wear white roses in their buttonholes.

Following them at a slight distance come Man's Enemies, also very much resembling one another—mean, cunning faces; low, heavy foreheads; long, ape-like arms. They walk uneasily, pushing, bending, and hiding behind one another, and casting sharp, mean, envious, sidelong glances from beneath lowered lids. Yellow roses appear in their buttonholes. Thus they pass through the room, slowly and in perfect silence. The sounds of the steps, the music, and the exclamations of the Guests produce a sharply discordant noise._