Savva and The Life of Man | Page 5

windows. The clock in the belfry of
the monastery strikes every half-hour, a long, indistinct wheeze
preceding the first stroke.
Pelagueya, who is pregnant, is scrubbing the floor. Seized with
giddiness, she staggers to her feet and leans against the wall, staring
before her with a vacant gaze._
PELAGUEYA

Oh, God! (She starts to scrub the floor again)
LIPA (enters, faint from heat)
How stifling! I don't know what to do with myself. My head seems full
of pins and needles. (She sits down) Polya, say, Polya.
PELAGUEYA
What is it?
LIPA
Where's father?
PELAGUEYA
He's sleeping.
LIPA
Oh, I can't stand it. _(She opens the window, then takes a turn round
the room, moving aimlessly and, glancing into the tavern)_ Tony's
sleeping too--behind the counter. It would be nice to go in, bathing, but
it's too hot to walk to the river. Polya, why don't you speak? Say
something.
PELAGUEYA
What?
LIPA
Scrubbing, scrubbing, all the time.
PELAGUEYA
Yes.

LIPA
And in a day from now the floors will be dirty again. I don't see what
pleasure you get from working the way you do.
PELAGUEYA.
I have to.
LIPA
I just took a peep at the street. It's awful. Not a human being in sight,
not even a dog. All is dead. And the monastery has such a queer look. It
seems to be hanging in the air. You have the feeling that if you were to
blow on it, it would begin to swing and fly away. Why are you so silent,
Polya? Where is Savva? Have you seen him?
PELAGUEYA
He's in the pasture playing jackstones with the children.
LIPA
He's a funny fellow.
PELAGUEYA
I don't see anything funny about it. He ought to be working, that's what
he ought to be doing, not playing like a baby. I don't like your Savva.
LIPA (lazily)
No, Polya, he is good.
PELAGUEYA
Good? I spoke to him and told him how hard the work was for me.
"Well," he says, "if you want to be a horse, pull." What did he come
here for? I wish he'd stayed where he was.

LIPA
He came home to see his folks. Why, it's ten years since he left. He was
a mere boy then.
PELAGUEYA
A lot he cares for his folks. Yegor Ivanovich is just dying to get rid of
him. The neighbors don't know what to make of him either. He dresses
like a workingman and carries himself like a lord, doesn't speak to
anybody and just rolls his eyes like a saint. I am afraid of his eyes.
LIPA
Nonsense. He has beautiful eyes.
PELAGUEYA
Can't he see that it's hard for me to be doing all the housework myself?
A while ago he saw me carrying a pail full of water. I was straining
with all my might. He didn't even say good morning; just, passed on. I
have met a lot of people in my life, but never anybody whom I disliked
so much.
LIPA
I'm so hot, everything seems to be turning round like wheels. Listen,
Polya, if you don't want to work, don't. No one compels you to.
PELAGUEYA
If I won't work, who will? Will you?
LIPA
No, I won't. We'll hire a servant.
PELAGUEYA

Yes, of course, you have plenty of money.
LIPA
And what's the use of keeping it?
PELAGUEYA
I'll die soon and then you'll get a servant. I won't last much longer. I
have had one miscarriage, and I guess a second child will be the end of
me. I don't care. It's better than to live the way I do. Oh! _(She clasps
her waist)_
LIPA
But for God's sake, who is asking you to? Stop working. Don't scrub.
PELAGUEYA
Yes, stop it, and all of you will be going about saying: "How dirty the
house is!"
LIPA (weary from the heat and Pelagueya's talk)
Oh, I'm so tired of it!
PELAGUEYA
Don't you think I feel tired too? What are you complaining about
anyhow? You are a lady. All you have to do is pray and read. I don't
even get time to pray. Some day I'll drop into the next world all of a
sudden just as I am, with my skirt tucked up under my belt: "Good
morning! How d'you do!"
LIPA
You'll be scrubbing floors in the next world too.
PELAGUEYA

No, in the next world it's you who'll be scrubbing floors, and I'll sit
with folded hands like a lady. In heaven we'll be the first ones, while
you and your Savva, for your pride and your hard hearts--
LIPA
Now, Polya, am I not sorry for you?
YEGOR IVANOVICH TROPININ _(enters, still sleepy, his beard
turned to one side, the collar of his shirt unbuttoned; breathing
heavily)_ Whew! Say, Polya, bring me some cider.