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The Power of Darkness

By
Leo Tolstoy.

Translated by
Louise Maude and Aylmer Maude.

Table of Contents Titlepage Imprint Dramatis Personae The Power of Darkness Act I Act II Act III Act IV Variation Act V Scene I Scene II Endnotes Colophon Uncopyright Imprint

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Dramatis Personae

Peter IgnĂĄtitch. A well-to-do peasant, fourty-two years old, married for the second time, and sickly

AnĂ­sya. His wife, thirty-two years old, fond of dress

Akoulína. Peter’s daughter by his first marriage, sixteen years old, hard of hearing, mentally undeveloped

Nan (Anna PetrĂłvna). His daughter by his second marriage, ten years old

NikĂ­ta. Their labourer, twenty-five years old, fond of dress

Akím. Nikíta’s father, fifty years old, a plain-looking, God-fearing peasant

Matryóna. His wife and Nikíta’s mother, fifty years old

MarĂ­na. An orphan girl, twenty-two years old

Martha. Peter’s sister

MĂ­tritch. An old labourer, ex-soldier

Simon. Marína’s husband

Bridegroom. Engaged to AkoulĂ­na

IvĂĄn. His father

A neighbour

First girl

Second girl

Police officer

Driver

Best man

Matchmaker

Village elder

Visitors, women, girls, and people come to see the wedding

N.B.⁠—The “oven” mentioned is the usual large, brick, Russian baking-oven. The top of it outside is flat, so that more than one person can lie on it.

The Power of Darkness Or, If a Claw Is Caught the Bird Is Lost Act I

The Act takes place in autumn in a large village. The Scene represents Peter’s roomy hut. Peter is sitting on a wooden bench, mending a horse-collar. Anísya and Akoulína are spinning, and singing a part-song.

Peter Looking out of the window. The horses have got loose again. If we don’t look out they’ll be killing the colt. NikĂ­ta! Hey, NikĂ­ta! Is the fellow deaf? Listens. To the women. Shut up, one can’t hear anything. NikĂ­ta From outside. What? Peter Drive the horses in. NikĂ­ta We’ll drive ’em in. All in good time. Peter Shaking his head. Ah, these labourers! If I were well, I’d not keep one on no account. There’s nothing but bother with ’em. Rises and sits down again. NikĂ­ta!⁠ ⁠
 It’s no good shouting. One of you’d better go. Go, AkoĂșl, drive ’em in. AkoulĂ­na What? The horses? Peter What else? AkoulĂ­na All right. Exit. Peter Ah, but he’s a loafer, that lad⁠ ⁠
 no good at all. Won’t stir a finger if he can help it. AnĂ­sya You’re so mighty brisk yourself. When you’re not sprawling on the top of the oven you’re squatting on the bench. To goad others to work is all you’re fit for. Peter If one weren’t to goad you on a bit, one’d have no roof left over one’s head before the year’s out. Oh what people! AnĂ­sya You go shoving a dozen jobs on to one’s shoulders, and then do nothing but scold. It’s easy to lie on the oven and give orders. Peter Sighing. Oh, if ’twere not for this sickness that’s got hold of me, I’d not keep him on another day. AkoulĂ­na Off the scene. Gee up, gee, woo. A colt neighs, the stamping of horses’ feet and the creaking of the gate are heard. Peter Bragging, that’s what he’s good at. I’d like to sack him, I would indeed. AnĂ­sya Mimicking him. “Like to sack him.” You buckle to yourself, and then talk. AkoulĂ­na Enters. It’s all I could do to drive ’em in. That piebald always will⁠ ⁠
 Peter And where’s NikĂ­ta? AkoulĂ­na Where’s NikĂ­ta? Why, standing out there in the street. Peter What’s he standing there for? AkoulĂ­na What’s he standing there for? He stands there jabbering. Peter One can’t get any sense out of her! Who’s he jabbering with? AkoulĂ­na Does not hear. Eh, what? Peter waves her off. She sits down to her spinning. Nan Running in to her mother. NikĂ­ta’s father and mother have come. They’re going to take him away. It’s true! AnĂ­sya Nonsense! Nan Yes. Blest if they’re not! Laughing. I was just going by, and NikĂ­ta, he says, “Goodbye, Anna PetrĂłvna,” he says, “you must come and dance at my wedding. I’m leaving you,” he says, and laughs. AnĂ­sya To her husband. There now. Much he cares. You see, he wants to leave of himself. “Sack him” indeed! Peter Well, let him go. Just as if I couldn’t find somebody else. AnĂ­sya And what about the money he’s had in advance? Nan stands listening at the door for awhile, and then exit. Peter Frowning. The money? Well, he can work it off in summer, anyhow. AnĂ­sya Well, of course you’ll be glad if he goes and you’ve not got to feed him. It’s only me as’ll have to work like a horse all the winter. That lass of yours isn’t over fond of work either. And you’ll be lying up on the oven. I know you. Peter What’s the good of wearing out one’s tongue before one has the hang of the matter? AnĂ­sya The yard’s full of cattle. You’ve not sold the cow, and have kept all the sheep for the winter: feeding and watering ’em alone takes all one’s time, and you want to sack the labourer. But I
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