The Power of Darkness by Leo Tolstoy (best reads of all time .TXT) đ
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The Power of Darkness is a five-act drama that follows the downfall of the peasants AnĂsya and NikĂta as they succumb to a series of sordid temptations, from adultery and drunkenness to outright murder. Written in 1886 but suppressed by censors until 1902, the play is a realist portrayal of some of the darkest elements of Russian peasant life. Similar to some other late Tolstoy works, like Resurrection, the playâs psychological exploration of human depravity is accompanied by a sharp social critique of the Russian Empire and its role in perpetuating poverty and ignorance among its lowest and most marginalized classes.
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- Author: Leo Tolstoy
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thatâs how things are, thereâs no reason for him to marry her. A daughter-in-lawâs not like a shoe, you canât kick her off.
AkĂm
Excitedly. Itâs false, old woman, itâs what dâyou call it, false; I mean, about the girl; false! âCos why? The lass is a good lass, a very good lass, you know. Iâm sorry, sorry for the lassie, I mean.
MatryĂłna
Itâs an old saying: âFor the wide world old Miriam grieves, and at home without bread her children she leaves.â Heâs sorry for the girl, but not sorry for his own son! Sling her round your neck and carry her about with you! Thatâs enough of such empty cackle!
AkĂm
No, itâs not empty.
MatryĂłna
There, donât interrupt, let me have my say.
AkĂm
Interrupts. No, not empty! I mean, you twist things your own way, about the lass or about yourself. Twist them, I mean, to make it better for yourself; but God, what dâyou call it, turns them His way. Thatâs how it is.
MatryĂłna
Eh! One only wears out oneâs tongue with you.
AkĂm
The lass is hardworking and spruce, and keeps everything round herselfâ ââ ⊠what dâyou call it. And in our poverty, you know, itâs a pair of hands, I mean; and the wedding neednât cost much. But the chief thingâs the offence, the offence to the lass, and sheâs a what dâyou call it, an orphan, you know; thatâs what she is, and thereâs the offence.
MatryĂłna
Eh! theyâll all tell you a tale of that sortâ ââ âŠ
AnĂsya
Daddy AkĂm, youâd better listen to us women; we can tell you a thing or two.
AkĂm
And God, how about God? Isnât she a human being, the lass? A what dâyou call itâ âalso a human being I mean, before God. And how do you look at it?
MatryĂłna
Eh!â ââ ⊠started off again?â ââ âŠ
Peter
Wait a bit, Daddy AkĂm. One canât believe all these girls say, either. The ladâs alive, and not far away; send for him, and find out straight from him if itâs true. He wonât wish to lose his soul. Go and call the fellow, AnĂsya rises and tell him his father wants him. Exit AnĂsya.
MatryĂłna
Thatâs right, dear friend; youâve cleared the way clean, as with water. Yes, let the lad speak for himself. Nowadays, you know, theyâll not let you force a son to marry; one must first of all ask the lad. Heâll never consent to marry her and disgrace himself, not for all the world. To my thinking, itâs best he should go on living with you and serving you as his master. And we need not take him home for the summer either; we can hire a help. If you would only give us ten roubles now, weâll let him stay on.
Peter
All in good time. First let us settle one thing before we start another.
AkĂm
You see, Peter IgnĂĄtitch, I speak. âCos why? you know how it happens. We try to fix things up as seems best for ourselves, you know; and as to God, we what dâyou call it, we forget Him. We think itâs best so, turn it our own way, and lo! weâve got into a fix, you know. We think it will be best, I mean; and lo! it turns out much worseâ âwithout God, I mean.
Peter
Of course one must not forget God.
AkĂm
It turns out worse! But when itâs the right wayâ âGodâs wayâ âit what dâyou call it, it gives one joy; seems pleasant, I mean. So I reckon, you see, get him, the lad, I mean, get him to marry her, to keep him from sin, I mean, and let him what dâyou call it at home, as itâs lawful, I mean, while I go and get the job in town. The work is of the right sortâ âitâs payinâ, I mean. And in Godâs sight itâs what dâyou call itâ âitâs best, I mean. Ainât she an orphan? Here, for example, a year ago some fellows went and took timber from the stewardâ âthought theyâd do the steward, you know. Yes, they did the steward, but they couldnât what dâyou call itâ âdo God, I mean. Well, and soâ ââ âŠ
Enter NikĂta and Nan.
NikĂta
You called me? Sits down and takes out his tobacco-pouch.
Peter
In a low, reproachful voice. What are you thinking aboutâ âhave you no manners? Your father is going to speak to you, and you sit down and fool about with tobacco. Come, get up!
NikĂta rises, leans carelessly with his elbow on the table, and smiles.
AkĂm
It seems thereâs a complaint, you know, about you, NikĂtaâ âa complaint, I mean, a complaint.
NikĂta
Whoâs been complaining?
AkĂm
Complaining? Itâs a maid, an orphan maid, complaining, I mean. Itâs her, you knowâ âa complaint against you, from MarĂna, I mean.
NikĂta
Laughs. Well, thatâs a good one. Whatâs the complaint? And whoâs told youâ âshe herself?
AkĂm
Itâs I am asking you, and you must now, what dâyou call it, give me an answer. Have you got mixed up with the lass, I meanâ âmixed up, you know?
NikĂta
I donât know what you mean. Whatâs up?
AkĂm
Foolinâ, I mean, what dâyou call it? foolinâ. Have you been foolinâ with her, I mean?
NikĂta
Never mind whatâs been! Of course one does have some fun with a cook now and then to while away the time. One plays the concertina and gets her to dance. What of that?
Peter
Donât shuffle, NikĂta, but answer your father straight out.
AkĂm
Solemnly. You can hide it from men but not from God, NikĂta. You, what dâyou call itâ âthink, I mean, and donât tell lies. Sheâs an orphan; so, you see, anyone is free to insult her. An orphan, you see. So you should say whatâs rightest.
NikĂta
But what if I have nothing to say? I have told you everythingâ âbecause there isnât anything to tell, thatâs flat! Getting excited. She can go and say anything about me, same as if she was speaking of one as is dead. Why donât she say anything about
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