Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Power of Darkness by graf Tolstoy Leo (inspiring books for teens .txt) 📖
- Author: graf Tolstoy Leo
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ANÍSYA [still excited] He's trampled on me … he and his slut! But it's enough! I'm not going to be the only one! Let him also be a murderer! Then he'll know how it feels!
MATRYĂ“NA. There, there! How she flares up! Don't you be cross, lass, but do things quietly little by little, as it's best. You go to the girl, and he'll do the work. [Follows NikĂta to the cellar with a lantern. He descends into the cellar].
ANĂŤSYA. And I'll make him strangle his dirty brat! [Still excited] I've worried myself to death all alone, with Peter's bones weighing on my mind! Let him feel it too! I'll not spare myself; I've said I'll not spare myself!
NIKĂŤTA [from the cellar] Show a light!
MATRYĂ“NA [holds up the lantern to him. To AnĂsya] He's digging. Go and bring it.
ANĂŤSYA. You stay with him, or he'll go away, the wretch! And I'll go and bring it.
MATRYĂ“NA. Mind, don't forget to baptize it, or I will if you like. Have you a cross?
ANĂŤSYA. I'll find one. I know how to do it. [Exit].
See at end of Act, Variation, which may be used instead of the following.
MATRYĂ“NA. How the woman bristled up! But one must allow she's been put upon. Well, but with the Lord's help, when we've covered this business, there'll be an end of it. We'll shove the girl off without any trouble. My son will live in comfort. The house, thank God, is as full as an egg. They'll not forget me either. Where would they have been without MatryĂłna? They'd not have known how to contrive things. [Peering into the cellar] Is it ready, sonnie?
NIKĂŤTA [puts out his head] What are you about there? Bring it quick! What are you dawdling for? If it is to be done, let it be done.
MATRYĂ“NA [goes towards door of the hut and meets AnĂsya. AnĂsya comes out with a baby wrapped in rags] Well, have you baptized it?
ANĂŤSYA. Why, of course! It was all I could do to take it away—she wouldn't give it up! [Comes forward and hands it to NikĂta].
NIKĂŤTA [does not take it] You bring it yourself!
ANĂŤSYA. Take it, I tell you! [Throws the baby to him].
NIKÍTA [catches it] It's alive! Gracious me, it's moving! It's alive! What am I to …
ANĂŤSYA [snatches the baby from him and throws it into the cellar] Be quick and smother it, and then it won't be alive! [Pushes NikĂta down] It's your doing, and you must finish it.
MATRYĂ“NA [sits on the doorstep of the hut] He's tender-hearted. It's hard on him, poor dear. Well, what of that? Isn't it also his sin?
AnĂsya stands by the cellar.
MATRYĂ“NA [sits looking at her and discourses] Oh, oh, oh! How frightened he was: well, but what of that? If it is hard, it's the only thing to be done. Where was one to put it? And just think, how often it happens that people pray to God to have children! But no, God gives them none; or they are all still-born. Look at our priest's wife now.… And here, where it's not wanted, here it lives. [Looks towards the cellar] I suppose he's finished. [To AnĂsya] Well?
ANĂŤSYA [looking into the cellar] He's put a board on it and is sitting on it. It must be finished!
MATRYĂ“NA. Oh, oh! One would be glad not to sin, but what's one to do?
Re-enter NikĂta from cellar, trembling all over.
NIKĂŤTA. It's still alive! I can't! It's alive!
ANĂŤSYA. If it's alive, where are you off to? [Tries to stop him].
NIKĂŤTA [rushes at her] Go away! I'll kill you! [Catches hold of her arms; she escapes, he runs after her with the spade. MatryĂłna runs towards him and stops him. AnĂsya runs into the porch. MatryĂłna tries to wrench the spade from him. To his mother] I'll kill you! I'll kill you! Go away! [MatryĂłna runs to AnĂsya in the porch. NikĂta stops] I'll kill you! I'll kill you all!
MATRYĂ“NA. That's because he's so frightened! Never mind, it will pass!
NIKÍTA. What have they made me do? What have they made me do? How it whimpered.… How it crunched under me! What have they done with me?… And it's really alive, still alive! [Listens in silence] It's whimpering … There, it's whimpering. [Runs to the cellar].
MATRYĂ“NA [to AnĂsya] He's going; it seems he means to bury it. NikĂta, you'd better take the lantern!
NIKÍTA [does not heed her, but listens by the cellar door] I can hear nothing! I suppose it was fancy! [Moves away, then stops] How the little bones crunched under me. Krr … kr … What have they made me do? [Listens again] Again whimpering! It's really whimpering! What can it be? Mother! Mother, I say! [Goes up to her].
MATRYĂ“NA. What is it, sonnie?
NIKĂŤTA. Mother, my own mother, I can't do any more! Can't do any more! My own mother, have some pity on me!
MATRYĂ“NA. Oh dear, how frightened you are, my darling! Come, come, drink a drop to give you courage!
NIKĂŤTA. Mother, mother! It seems my time has come! What have you done with me? How the little bones crunched, and how it whimpered! My own mother! What have you done with me? [Steps aside and sits down on the sledge].
MATRYĂ“NA. Come, my own, have a drink! It certainly does seem uncanny at night-time. But wait a bit. When the day breaks, you know, and one day and another passes, you'll forget even to think of it. Wait a bit; when the girl's married we'll even forget to think of it. But you go and have a drink; have a drink! I'll go and put things straight in the cellar myself.
NIKĂŤTA [rouses himself] Is there any drink left? Perhaps I can drink it off! [Exit].
AnĂsya, who has stood all the time by the door, silently makes way for him.
MATRYĂ“NA. Go, go, honey, and I'll set to work! I'll go down myself and dig! Where has he thrown the spade to? [Finds the spade, and goes down into the cellar] AnĂsya, come here! Hold the light, will you?
ANĂŤSYA. And what of him?
MATRYĂ“NA. He's so frightened! You've been too hard with him. Leave him alone, he'll come to his senses. God help him! I'll set to work myself. Put the lantern down here. I can see.
MatryĂłna disappears into the cellar.
ANĂŤSYA [looking towards the door by which NikĂta entered the hut] Well, have you had enough spree? You've been puffing yourself up, but now you'll know how it feels! You'll lose some of your bluster!
NIKĂŤTA [rushes out of the hut towards the cellar] Mother! mother, I say!
MATRYĂ“NA [puts out her head] What is it, sonnie?
NIKÍTA [listening] Don't bury it, it's alive! Don't you hear? Alive! There—it's whimpering! There … quite plain!
MATRYĂ“NA. How can it whimper? Why, you've flattened it into a pancake! The whole head is smashed to bits!
NIKÍTA. What is it then? [Stops his ears] It's still whimpering! I am lost! Lost! What have they done with me?… Where shall I go? [Sits down on the step].
Curtain.
Instead of the end of Act IV. (from the words, “ANÍSYA. I'll find one. I know how to do it. [Exit]”) the following variation may be read, and is the one usually acted.
The interior of the hut as in Act I.
Nan lies on the bench, and is covered with a coat. MĂtritch is sitting on the oven smoking.
MĂŤTRITCH. Dear me! How they've made the place smell! Drat 'em! They've been spilling the fine stuff. Even tobacco don't get rid of the smell! It keeps tickling one's nose so. Oh Lord! But it's bedtime, I guess. [Approaches the lamp to put it out].
NAN [jumps up, and remains sitting up] Daddy dear,[7] don't put it out!
MĂŤTRITCH. Not put it out? Why?
NAN. Didn't you hear them making a row in the yard? [Listens] D'you hear, there in the barn again now?
MĂŤTRITCH. What's that to you? I guess no one's asked you to mind! Lie down and sleep! And I'll turn down the light. [Turns down lamp].
NAN. Daddy darling! Don't put it right out; leave a little bit if only as big as a mouse's eye, else it's so frightening!
MĂŤTRITCH [laughs] All right, all right. [Sits down by her] What's there to be afraid of?
NAN. How can one help being frightened, daddy! Sister did go on so! She was beating her head against the box! [Whispers] You know, I know … a little baby is going to be born.… It's already born, I think.…
MĂŤTRITCH. Eh, what a little busybody it is! May the frogs kick her! Must needs know everything. Lie down and sleep! [Nan lies down] That's right! [Tucks her up] That's right! There now, if you know too much you'll grow old too soon.
NAN. And you are going to lie on the oven?
MĂŤTRITCH. Well, of course! What a little silly you are, now I come to look at you! Must needs know everything. [Tucks her up again, then stands up to go] There now, lie still and sleep! [Goes up to the oven].
NAN. It gave just one cry, and now there's nothing to be heard.
MĂŤTRITCH. Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! What is it you can't hear?
NAN. The baby.
MĂŤTRITCH. There is none, that's why you can't hear it.
NAN. But I heard it! Blest if I didn't hear it! Such a thin voice!
MÍTRITCH. Heard indeed! Much you heard! Well, if you know,—why then it was just such a little girl as you that the bogey popped into his bag and made off with.
NAN. What bogey?
MĂŤTRITCH. Why, just his very self! [Climbs up on to the oven] The oven is beautifully warm to-night. Quite a treat! Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas!
NAN. Daddy! are you going to sleep?
MĂŤTRITCH. What else? Do you think I'm going to sing songs?
Silence.
NAN. Daddy! Daddy, I say! They are digging! they're digging—don't you hear? Blest if they're not, they're digging!
MĂŤTRITCH. What are you dreaming about? Digging! Digging in the night! Who's digging? The cow's rubbing herself, that's all. Digging indeed! Go to sleep I tell you, else I'll just put out the light!
NAN. Daddy darling, don't put it out! I won't … truly, truly, I won't. It's so frightful!
MĂŤTRITCH. Frightful? Don't be afraid and then it won't be frightful. Look at her, she's afraid, and then says it's frightful. How can it help being frightful if you are afraid? Eh, what a stupid little girl!
Silence. The cricket chirps.
NAN [whispers] Daddy! I say, daddy! Are you asleep?
MĂŤTRITCH. Now then, what d'you want?
NAN. What's the bogey like?
MĂŤTRITCH. Why, like this! When he finds such a one as you, who won't sleep, he comes with a sack and pops the girl into it, then in he gets himself, head and all, lifts her dress, and gives her a fine whipping!
NAN. What with?
MĂŤTRITCH. He takes a birch-broom with him.
NAN. But he can't see there—inside the sack!
MĂŤTRITCH. He'll see, no fear!
NAN. But I'll bite him.
MĂŤTRITCH. No, friend, him you can't bite!
NAN. Daddy, there's some one coming! Who is it? Oh gracious goodness! Who can it be?
MĂŤTRITCH. Well, if some one's coming, let them come! What's the matter with you? I suppose it's your mother!
Enter AnĂsya.
ANĂŤSYA.
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