Читать книгу The Curse of Hermes Trismegistus - Вадим Иванович Кучеренко - Страница 2

There is an apartment in an old apartment house built yet in the early 20^th century. The apartment has many ample rooms with high ceilings. Beside a massive hanger made of oak and a huge mirror of Venetian glass the main decoration of a big hallway is an antique floor clock with a pendulum. The doorbell keeps ringing with some short breaks. Finally, Rodion dressed in a night-suit shows up from the shade of the room and opens the door. Myshevsky comes in. The clock strikes twelve.

Myshevskiy. Good afternoon. Sorry, it looks like I woke you up. But I have an appointment.

Rodion. Is it morning already?

Myshevskiy. I would say noon if one can trust this clock.

Rodion. Oh, I wish this damned pendulum tore off! It just scares buddies… Anything to drink?

Myshevskiy. I’d rather have some tea.

Rodion. Actually, I mean harder revivers.

Myshevskiy. No, thanks. Besides, there is no reason for it.

Rodion. My grandfather – God rest his soul – used to say: there is something to drink, there is always a reason. Well, I as you like though…

Myshevskiy. So, can I see professor Golyshkin? Stalver Udarpyatovich made me an appointment at twelve. Is he in?

Rodion. He must be in his home office scribbling some book or surfing some porno sites. It depends on whether he is dragging his ass now or cooing some stuff over.

Myshevskiy. Can I see him?

Rodion. My grandfather Udarpyat Rodionovich Golyshkin would answer such a question like that – it doesn’t hurt to try.

Myshevskiy. Actually, this expression belongs to Stalin. And it is pretty backhanded.

Rodion. My grandfather used to consider Stalin a great man. In all terms.

Myshevskiy. Your grandfather was…?

Rodion. He was a State Security General. Does it make you feel uneasy?

Myshevskiy. No, but it makes something clear. My grandfather was just a doctor, but before making a decision he had to think a lot. In return, one could never argue with his diagnosis.

Rodion. It looks like your grandfather was a dull beggar.

Myshevskiy. He was quite a sociable person. Until the day he was condemned. Condemned to twenty five years without a right of correspondence. As a people’s enemy… So, will you let me in?

Rodion. If you walk alone it will take you time to find a right way. This apartment is just a maze! There are too many rooms for a philosopher. The old Diogenes would have praised my dad for it.

Myshevskiy. Then show me to his room. If it doesn’t trouble you.

Rodion. Well, let’s go then. Follow me and don’t turn anywhere. If a bat seats on your shoulder don’t think that it’s a pipe dream. After my mom’s death our house has got quite shabby.

Myshevskiy. I feel quite comfortable here as if I came back home after a long trip.

Rodion. Really, you are not a normal guy. I noticed it right away, when you refused from drinking.

Myshevskiy. It could happen after your mother’s death. Sometimes houses get shabby when a brownie leaves them.

Rodion. What’s the rubbish?

Myshevskiy. It looks like you don’t know the folklore beliefs. In old times in Russia a good-natured brownie was believed to keep hearth and home. It was the brownie who maintained coziness at home and kept the quite spirit of its hosts.

Rodion. Oh, blimey! Actually, I thought that cats keep hearth and home.

Myshevskiy. Cats get used to people, but brownies – to homes. When an old host dies the brownie starts exhausting the new one if he doesn’t like him. However, sometimes the brownie just leaves. The house is getting shabby and abandoned.

Rodion. So, you mean, that my dad and me put a slight upon your good guy brownie, huh?

Myshevskiy. Actually, this is your brownie. By the way, how long have you been living here?

Rodion. As long as I remember myself. My father inherited this apartment from my grandfather who used to say that it belonged yet to his grandfather. So, it’s a kind of family castle devolving by the Golyshkins. I am balling of it! The noble Golyshkins family!

Myshevskiy. Are you absolutely sure?

Rodion. You mean that we are a noble family?

Myshevskiy. I mean that this apartment belonged to your grand-grandfather?

Rodion. Hey, listen, you screw me down with your questions! Why are you stuck in them?

Myshevskiy. It’s just curiosity.

Rodion. It’s bullshit! Okay, we’ve come finally…

Rodion and Myshevsky enter the room which serves as a working office for Golyshkin. He is writing something on a sheet of paper sitting at a massive antique desk. Along the walls there are book shelves filled with books in golden leather covers. There are a few arm-chairs and chairs, as well as a small coffee table in the corner. All is antique. Only a telephone on a desk indicates the present times. The canvases with portraits of ancient philosophers hang on the walls. Among them there is a portrait of Stalin which is of a little bigger size.

Rodion. Hey, dad, there is a guest for you! You will get along. He is also a weird buddy as you are.

Golyshkin. Stop scoffing, Rodion! Speak normal language like a civilized person. Get dressed, please! What would other people think of you? Walking in a night-suit in daytime!

Rodion. Don’t hand a line on me! Let them think whatever they want. I am at home. I am dressed as I want. If somebody doesn’t like my home getup…

Myshevskiy. I don’t care at all.

Golyshkin. But I am waiting for one person…

Rodion. For Olenka?

Golyshkin. It’s not your business! Besides, she is not Olenka for you. For you she is Olga Alekseevna, a nurse from a community hospital – that’s it!

Rodion. As you say, dad. Okay, I get out of this game.

Golyshkin. Such an impudent boy!

Rodion. I am going to put champagne in the fridge. Professor, what do you think, Olenka… oh, sorry, a nurse from a community hospital, wouldn’t refuse from a glass of champagne? I guess she wouldn’t refuse from a glass of awesome champagne!

Golyshkin. Get out of here until I throw this book at your stupid head!

Rodion. I would never think that a book could be such a strong argument. You can be damned persuasive, professor!

Rodion leaves whistling a tune of “Marseillaise”.

Golyshkin. Such a wretched boy! What can I do with him?

Myshevskiy. You shouldn’t love him so much.

Golyshkin. Is my love so obvious?

Myshevskiy. Your intonations reveals you. In such a way a mother speaks to her beloved infant terrible.

Golyshkin. You think that I make harm to my son with my excessive love?

Myshevskiy. All that is excessive is harmful. Absolute power. Blood feud. Blind love. You know what the Bible says about it? «The one who loves his son should often punish him». I often read this book before going to bed. I have two sons.

Golyshkin. When his mother died… from a heart attack unexpectedly for everyone… I took her death very grievously, but Rodion… He quitted the University and locked himself in his room. He didn’t come out for almost a year. He had been sitting in the corner crying. He cried in such a mournful way like a scared doggy… I was afraid that I might lose him and remain alone. Do you know how frightening loneliness is?

Myshevskiy. My father had seven children. I have five. Beside two sons there are three daughters. How should I know what loneliness is like? Sometimes, I am longing to become alone. But fortunately, this desire leaves me quickly.

Golyshkin. I can only say that you are a happy man Mr. …

Myshevskiy. Myshevskiy. Andrey Myshevskiy. I called you yesterday, Stalver Udarpyatovich and asked for an appointment. You invited me at your place.

Golyshkin. Oh, sure! I remember, dear Andrey… Excuse me, what is your patronymic name?

Myshevskiy. My father’s name was Sigizmund, so I am Andrey Sigizmundovich. One can’t pronounce it in one breath. So, if it’s difficult for you…

Golyshkin. Why should it be difficult for me? My father’s name was also not a simple one – Udarpyat. It is a short form of a word, standing for “shock worker of a five-year state plan”. There was such time: mass enthusiasm, peoples’ creativity boom and all that stuff…

Myshevskiy. You are right. There was cool time!

Golyshkin. So, my father Udarpyat Rodionovich without evasion gave me a name of Stalver. It is a short form standing for “I trust Stalin». So, how should I react to all this?

Myshevskiy. Philosophically.

Golyshkin. You are right. Perhaps, only thanks to my name I received a PhD in Philosophy.

Myshevskiy. Following your theory, Stalver Udarpyatovich I became a businessman only thanks to my patronymic name Sigizmundovich?

Golyshkin. Mm-m… Anyway, I managed to break this vicious circle. To my son I gave a name in honor of my grandfather, a peasant from a Tambov province. Actually, it was him with his rich imagination and deep trust to the Soviet power who initiated all that. His name was Rodion. Such a beautiful and simple Russian name. But I see, it’s not interesting for you…

Myshevskiy. Well…

Golyshkin. Excuse me, the old man, I was carried away with my reflections! As far as I remember, your visit is related to my new book?

Myshevskiy. Yes, you are right, Stalver Udarpyatovich. I got very interested in your “Theosophical System of Nature Levels and Existence of Endless Variety of Matter Forms in the Light of Spiritualism”. Is it this book you are holding now?

Golyshkin. Hm-m… I would put you an “excellent” mark if you took my exam, Mr. Myshevsky. You pronounced a title of my book without a single stumbling. It’s not common, I tell you.

Myshevskiy. No wonder, professor. I have thought a lot about it. You claim that all material phenomena might be turned eventually into spiritual ones…

Golyshkin. Well, it’s not me who claims that. I mean I am not the first and the only…

Myshevskiy. Perhaps, it is true professor. But I read about this idea from your book.

Golyshkin. It’s nice to hear that, Andrey Sigizmundovich. By the way, which direction of spiritualism does appeal to you more – absolute or relative? Do you prefer to follow Berkley or the old Aristotle?

Myshevskiy. It’s hard for me to answer your question, professor. Actually, I have rather vague idea about spiritualism. I told you, I am a businessman. I came here not to discuss controversial issues of theosophy but with a specific goal.

Golyshkin. What goal?

Myshevskiy. To turn your abilities into money, Stalver Udarpyatovich. You are my golden mine, professor.

Golyshkin. Excuse me, but me and money are two incompatible things. Haven’t you read my book? Perhaps, you noticed that it’s too far from materialism. Yes, I admit that a human body requires its special living conditions. However, I consider the body to be a product of spiritual activity of a human being. I doubt that one can make money out of it.

Myshevskiy. What if you are mistaken, professor?

Golyshkin. Then do persuade me, Mr. Myshevsky! I would be even glad. But before taking this Sisyphean labor… would you like a cup of tea?

Myshevskiy. I would prefer black coffee with no sugar, no milk.

Golyshkin. As for me, I prefer green tea with jasmine. It smells marvelous!

Myshevskiy. I heard that jasmine has a smell of disease. And black coffee smells like revenge.

Golyshkin. Oh, I would never think of that! Okay, let it be your way, Mr. Myshevsky. Drink your coffee enjoying the idea of revenge. Meanwhile I will be diving into disease. Then you will tell me what brought you here.

The doorbell is ringing at the entrance hall. Rodion having changed his pajamas for jeans and shirt opens the door. Olga comes in with a medical case in her hands. She comes up to the mirror patting her hair. The young lady is dressed modestly wearing a cheap skirt and a blouse.

Rodion. Hello Olenka! Wow! Hotcha! You look more and more irresistible each day!

Olga. Oh, here you are, Rodion… How is Stalver Sigizmundovich doing? Don’t see me off, I know the way to his room.

Rodion. Olga Alekseevna! Maybe I am goofy but I can’t understand what is my fault.

Olga. How should I know? Ask your father about it.

Rodion. I can’t. He is talking to a very cool buddy now. They are bouncing off some cool stuff. So, Olenka, you will have to wait. There is vodka and coca-cola… Would you like a cocktail of Jim Morrison?

Olga. Listen, Rodion, it looks like you have nothing to do, is that right? Are you hanging around doing nothing or is it your work?

Rodion. What are you talking about Olga Alekseevna? Please, do explain for me, stupid guy!

Olga. Each time when I come to see Stalver Udarpyatovich I see you at home. So, my conclusion is that you are either an absolute idler living on your father’s means or a sheik.

Rodion. Actually, I am like pants without a shirt. I am living free life with no responsibility.

Olga. Don’t waste your time then. I don’t care about men of such type.

Rodion. Whatever… what machos do you care about?

Olga. Speaking your slang I like hot and pricy machos.

Rodion. Oh, such a pain…

Olga. All women are like that! Why would I be an exception? Am I a fright? Am I stupid?

Rodion. Oh no, Olenka! You are a pussy cat. Sweet pussy cat!

Olga. That’s it, my little boy!

Rodion. Oh shucks! I am not a little boy. If I have no bucks it’s not the reason to call me sucker.

Olga. Take it easy, cowboy! Only boiled eggs are harder than you and only stars are higher. However, I call a boy any man not capable to fulfill my dream.

Rodion. What’s that shit? Don’t make pickle-puss, tell me! Olya! Please tell me!

Olga. Well… That shit as you, dude, called it are the Iguazu Waterfalls.

Rodion. Holy cow! Where is it?

Olga. It’s in Brazil. Nothing in the world could be as beautiful as the Iguazu Waterfalls. Just imagine: more than three hundreds flows are simultaneously cascading from the towering height. And there is an internal rainbow created by a billion of water drops and the sun. I saw it on TV.

Rodion. I thought that all pussy cats dream of Paris.

Olga. You mean to see Paris and die at the top of the Eiffel Tower? This is really a bullshit!

Rodion. But Brazil is too far! I guess the antipode people must live there…

Olga. That’s right, smart cookie! When it is winter at our country they are enjoying summer. When we are crying they are singing. Is that enough or should I go on?

Rodion. Enough.

Olga. So, when will I see the Iguazu Waterfalls?

Rodion. Such a prick!

Olga. Now you see, why you are just a boy?

Rodion. I see, pussy cat…

Olga. Come on, don’t be sulky! You are a very good boy, Rodion. But I am not going to try this temptation any more.

Rodion. So, what if…?

Olga. What do you mean?

Rodion. I am not a dude, Olya. Okay, let’s a assume that you will have these waterfalls. Will you look at me another way then?

Olga. The Iguazu Waterfalls first and then we will see.

Rodion. Olya, please do answer. It’s very important for me!

Olga. My good little boy! I think I could really love you…

Rodion. Go on!

Olga. Rodion, please set my hands free! Otherwise I am going to complain your father and he will punish you.

Rodion. You are laughing at me, Olya!

Olga. Should I cry? Oh, no way! Such times had passed long ago. Once upon a time, at one apocalyptic day of my life I was lying on a hospital bed bowelled and devastated and I swore. Oh, that was a terrible vow! From now on I will never take trust any man in the world. I am not going to break my vow even for the sake of such good little boy as you are.

Rodion. Go on laughing at me! But believe me – once everything will change.

Olga. I will wait for such a day, Rodion.

Rodion. Is that true, Olya? Can I hope?

Olga. Even a mouse in a trap has a right to hope. The question is: for what and for how long? For example, my hope to see your father today has almost died. So, what can I do?

Rodion. Okay, I am going to pledge my dad. Maybe he will have mercy on me and finally send that guy packing.

Olga. I will very much appreciate that!

Rodion. But only if you are coming with me, Olya!

Olga. Are you afraid your dad mopping up on you?

Rodion. I am afraid to leave you alone. What if you disappear like a ghost? Maybe you are not a woman at all.

Olga. Who am I then?! You, smart ass!

Rodion. I mean you are not real. Sometimes it seems to me that you are just my pipe-dream.

Olga. Here is my hand, it’s of flesh and blood. Can you feel its warm? Hold it tightly. Maybe in such a way you will keep me beside you.

Rodion. Do you really want it?

Olga. Oh, if I only knew what I want!

Rodion holding Olga by her hand comes up to the office door. The voices are heard out of the closed room. Instead of coming in he tried to kiss Olga’s hand. She pulls it back and starts listening to the conversation.

Myshevskiy. Thank you for coffee Stalver Udarpayovich.

Golyshkin. Would you like one more cup?

Myshevskiy. If you don’t mind professor I’d rather jump to the point.

Golyshkin. Sure. So, Mr. Myshevsky if I understood your right you are attracted by the otherworld and its mysteries?

Myshevskiy. Actually, I am a pragmatic professor. Mysteries of the otherworld… Well, I will start caring about them when I move to that otherworld. Hopefully, it will happen not so soon. Meanwhile, I am more interested in the mysteries of the living world. I would say, only one of them. And like Orpheus I am ready to follow this mystery down to the kingdom of the dead.

Golyshkin. What is that mystery, Mr. Myshevsky? Is it worth it?

Myshevskiy. It is the elixir-stone.

Golyshkin. So, you are obsessed with the philosophers’ stone?! I must confess you have disappointed me.

Myshevskiy. But why are you speaking so disdainfully about my obsession, professor?

Golyshkin. After all, it is not even a stone if we consider how it looks like – it is a chemical substance. In fact, it is powder required for transmutation of metals into gold.

Myshevskiy. Do you think it really matters how my obsession looks like?

Golyshkin. Sure I do! Doesn’t it matter for you how looks a woman who you are going to conquer. Or speaking this dirty modern slang – to sleep with.

Myshevskiy. How can you compare these two things!?

Golyshkin. Well, perhaps, I am too quick with my conclusions…Perhaps, you are concerned about other properties of the elixir-stone. You know, if one takes this golden drink in small doses – ancient alchemists used to call it аurum potabile – it is able to cure any disease, rejuvenate human body and even prolong life.

Myshevskiy. Oh, really? Frankly, I didn’t think of that, professor. It is probably because a human being is an egoist by nature. How could he blamed of it? The God created him so.

Golyshkin. However, fortunately, for humanity The God created not all people as egoists. The history contains the examples when some individuals sacrificed their lives for the sake of other people.

Myshevskiy. Well, black sheep occurs in all herds. And after all, if each individual is happy, isn’t it enough for all humanity to be happy?

Golyshkin. You are quite a sophist, Mr. Myshevsky, I should tell you. It makes you somewhat similar to your desirable elixir-stone. Your ideas like poison get into people’s minds breaking noble ideals and turn romantic souls into cynics.

Myshevskiy. I’d say you are too stern to me, professor.

Golyshkin. Well, let’s stop this useless arguing, Mr. Myshevsky. We’d better return to the point of our conversation. Don’t you know that the philosophers’ stone is not more than a fable of ancient alchemists?

Myshevskiy. Yeah, I heard about it. Moreover, this fable had been actively exploited by all sorts of quacks. They made their money on those simpletons who believed in superficial power of the elixir-stone.

Golyshkin. So, you see…

Myshevskiy. What about Raimondus Lullius then? Do you know about the Spaniard who lived back in the 14^th century? The British King Edward ordered him to make sixty thousand pounds of gold out of Azoth, Tin, and Saturn. And he did fulfill the order!

Golyshkin. At that time, all money transactions were made with tin metal. There wasn’t much gold in the royal treasury.

Myshevskiy. However, according to the historical documents the royal treasury was filled with gold at the times of Edward the King. It was used for bargaining exclusively big deals with the Hans Republic.

Golyshkin. Even historical documents might contain a sporadic mistake.

Myshevskiy. Okay, let’s assume that a quantity of gold was exaggerated. But one can’t dispute the fact itself! The golden coins made by Raimondus Lullius have been kept today in the British museums.

Golyshkin. It’s a great hoax!

Myshevskiy. Stalver Udarpyatovich! Are you blaming the British King for telling lies?

Golyshkin. Not the King, but the so-called chroniclersе.

Myshevskiy. Professor, why don’t you want to believe the simplest explanation? Somehow Raimondus Lullius managed to get the recipe of creating the elixir stone. Or does the time where he lived seem too mysterious to you?

Golyshkin. I would say yes. Medieval period is sunk in the darkness. Some historical chronicles claim that fire-spitting dragons used to dwell at that times. Should I believe them too?

Myshevskiy. Do you mean dragons? Actually, I didn’t think of that… All is possible… However, some elements of Mendeleev’s table might be transmuted into gold. That was proven yet in the 20^th century.

Golyshkin. Yes, it often happens in the process of nuclear reactor working. But the concentration of gold which is emitted in the result of it is too small and too expensive. Obviously, it can’t be considered as a reasonable way.

Myshevskiy. That’s why scientists prefer not to take it seriously. Besides, this chemical reaction has some negative impact on functioning of the nuclear reactor itself. However, it’s a fact.

Golyshkin. So, what does it prove?

Myshevskiy. It proves that transmutation of any metal into gold is possible! The problem is that the recipe of the elixir-stone has been lost in centuries. And all those who knew had turned into ashes long ago.

Golyshkin. Okay, let it be so. But why did you come to see me?

Myshevskiy. The reason is your book, professor. You state that a spirit-rapping is a real opportunity to talk to the dead.

Golyshkin. Wait a minute, Mr. Myshevsky! I think I’ve got you! That’s it! You are not going to waste your life making experiments. Why to seat for years in the laboratory bending your head over retorts hoping to see a punch of gold sand on the bottom of one of them one day? No way, that’s not for you! Instead of all that you want to get into spiritual contact with one of those who used to know a recipe of the elixir-stone and get the secret of transmutation. Please, correct me, if I am wrong.

Myshevskiy. You are right professor.

Golyshkin. So, who did you chose for this purpose? The Spaniard Lullius? Or Edward the King?

Myshevskiy. That is Hermes Trismegistus.

Golyshkin. My God! You are crazier than I thought.

Myshevskiy. What does surprise you, professor? Nobody knows about the elixir-stone more than Hermes Trismegistus. It was not for nothing that he was called Hermes Trice the Great. It was this Egyptian who introduced the elixir-stone which he received in the result of his alchemic experiments.

Golyshkin. But this is a mythological personality! According to the old legends he was a son of Egyptian Gods Osiris and Isis. He is also often compared to Thoth, the ancient Egyptian wizard God. Most likely this person never existed at all.

Myshevskiy. Actually, he did and even wrote books. Actually, the world learnt about the elixir-stone exactly from his books. Unfortunately, most of the them were destroyed by the fire at the Alexandria library. Those few saved were hidden in the underground caches in the desert by Hermes Trismegistus’s adepts.

Golyshkin. Do you really believe all that?

Myshevskiy. Some translations of his books are available today. Unfortunately, they are too distorted. Almost nothing could be understood from them.

Golyshkin. Well, are you sure that during a spirit séance this mythological Egyptian would show up from the other world and open you his secret recipe?

Myshevskiy. Why not? I think many people before me tried to do this. Most of them didn’t succeed. But some were lucky.

Golyshkin. It looks like you are absolutely sure, Myshevsky, that Hermes Tricemegistus wouldn’t reject you.

Myshevskiy. Not me.

Golyshkin. Why?

Myshevskiy. Because what I need from Hermes Tricemegistus is not the recipe of the elixir-stone. I already know this recipe.

Behind the door Rodion tries to kiss Olga’s lips, but she blocks his lips with her hand.

Rodion. Why not, Olya? Don’t you like it?

Olga. Hush!

Olga puts her finger on his lips encouraging him to listen to the voices in the room.

Golyshkin. Did you get your recipe from one of those poor translations of that great Egyptian alchemist? Or did you get it from those books destroyed by fire at the Alexandrian library?

Myshevskiy. Don’t mock professor. I inherited it from my father.

Golyshkin. Well, well… Excuse me, what did your father do?

Myshevskiy. There is nothing supernatural. In his youth he was attracted by archeology. He used to go to archeological expeditions as a simple worker. During one of the expeditions they came across a half destroyed tomb in the desert. While digging my dad found a cache in the wall with an ancient manuscript in it. It was a sheet of parchment half destroyed by time and sand. Some unreadable hieroglyphs were written there. My dad was an honest person, but you should keep in mind, that he was young…

Golyshkin. So, he stole the manuscript?

Myshevskiy. I would put it another way. He held it back. Most likely, it was against his own will. As he said later, some supernatural power conquered his will. When my father returned to his consciousness he was sitting in his tent at the camp. He didn’t remember how he got there unnoticeable walking from the tomb. The parchment carefully covered with a clean shirt was in his backpack. Later, my dad felt ashamed of what he did but it was too late to get back. Even if he had returned the parchment he would have been blamed for theft anyway and expelled from the expedition. He would have probably been arrested. Stealing of the state property was punished more strictly than murder at those times.

Golyshkin. You know, in the Middle East, they used to cut a hand to a thief. In ancient Russia they used to mark a thief and tear out his nostrils. However, people keep on stealing here and there. I think supernatural power has nothing to do with it. That is human nature. Your father was afraid but had stolen anyway. Why did he need this parchment? I doubt that he understood what it was. Did he really think that somebody would buy this shabby sheet of paper?

Myshevskiy. Let it be your way, professor. Okay, let’s assume that supernatural power has nothing to do with it and my dad was a simple wrecker. However, in order to justify him I’d like to say the following: for many years my dad had been trying to read what was written on the parchment. He didn’t sell this shabby paper – as you call it – he didn’t even try.

Golyshkin. So, did he manage to read it?

Myshevskiy. It took him almost his whole life. For a few years he had been learning that dead language. During the following few decades he had been trying to decipher the words. Hermes Tricemegistus used a special cipher to put down his great secret.

Golyshkin. Are you sure it was Hermes Tricemegistus?

Myshevskiy. Absolutely. As sure as a gun. The parchment was signed by the great Egyptian. But even without it the text spoke for itself. It was a recipe of the elixir-stone.

Golyshkin. So, your dad… did he use the recipe?

Myshevskiy. Fortunately, not. By the time when the secret text was deciphered my dad was seriously ill. Soon after that he died. The only thing he did was to hand the parchment to me. He expected that I would fulfill the business of his whole life.

Golyshkin. Wait a second! Why did you say “fortunately”?

Myshevskiy. Because he didn’t feel that frustration that I did. I tried to prepare the elixir-stone.

Golyshkin. And you failed, as far as I understand.

Myshevskiy. After my experiment I received very beautiful crystals of deep-ruby color. It turned out to be Argentum Chloraurate with a high concentration of gold – forty four percent! During a fusing process the crystals got golden color. However, it wasn’t pure gold as we hoped.

Golyshkin. Perhaps, the alchemists called these crystals the elixir stone.

Myshevskiy. Only quacks and losers did so. I guess Hermes Tricemegistus wrote this recipe especially for them. In order to confuse them, the Egyptian made the recipe look quite naturally, but had changed some ingredient. Perhaps, only one ingredient, but it resulted in just forty four percent of gold in the substance. So, if we manage to open this little secret of the old alchemist we would become fantastically rich, professor!

Golyshkin. You said “we”? Are you sure?

Myshevskiy. Of course we. I can’t deal with this spirit-rapping stuff. All my attempts in it failed. You are an expert in spiritualism. So, I offer you to open a joint venture. My contribution to the authorized fund is the recipe of the elixir-stone willed to me by my dad. And you…

Golyshkin. Yes, what about me?

Myshevskiy. Sincere confession of Hermes Tricemegistus.

Golyshkin. It’s nonsense! Don’t you understand it?

Myshevskiy. Will you believe me if I show you the parchment

Myshevskiy takes something covered with soft cloth out of his briefcase. He unfolds it carefully and shows the manuscript to Golyshkin. He shows it at a distance not letting touch it.

Golyshkin. My God! So it's true!

Myshevskiy. What is the reason for me deceiving you? You can check the veracity of my words yourself.

Golyshkin. Are you going to give me..?

Myshevskiy wraps the manuscript in cloth and hides the package back in his briefcase.

Myshevskiy. Of course, it's not that easy. Only after you promise me to get the spirit of Hermes Trismegistus. So… Deal?

Golyshkin. Give me some time to think. I can't make a decision out of the blue like this. After all, I am a philosopher, not an adventurer.

Myshevskiy. I understand, professor. How much time do you need?

Golyshkin. I'll call you. In a week. Or by the end of the month.

Myshevskiy. I'll call you myself. If you don’t mind.

Golyshkin. But I don't promise anything!

Myshevsky. Negative answer is also an answer.

Golyshkin. Well, if so…

Myshevskiy. Well, it’s time for me to leave.

Golyshkin. Shall I guide you?

Myshevskiy. No, thanks. I'll find the way.

Golyshkin. It is not so easy. You may get lost in the maze of the rooms.

Myshevsky. It seems to me I've been here before. And that's why I'm fine with it.

Golyshkin. Oh, really? And when?

Myshevsky. Maybe in my previous life. It’s genetic memory.

Golyshkin. You are speaking with puzzles, Mr. Myshevsky.

Myshevskiy. There will come a time for clues, professor. I promise you. I'm leaving, but I’ll come back. See you!

Golyshkin. But remember – I didn't promise anything!

Olga moves away from the door and drags Rodion along with her.

Rodion. Where are you taking me? Tell me!

Olga. Don't make your guest think that we were listening.

Rodion. But we were not listening! Well, we heard a few words, but those are some nonsense!

Olga. Aren’t you stupid, boy?! Of course, I didn't get it all either. But I understood the main thing.

Rodion. And what is it?

Olga. The fact that our visitor is a very rich man.

Rodion. So, what?

Olga. He desperately needs Stalver Udarpyatovich. And if you offer him your help… Then you can demand something else in return.

Rodion. What else do you mean?

Olga. Oh, how stupid you are! Whatever you want! Job, money, recommendation…