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Plays by Aleksandr Nikolaevich Ostrovsky Part 61

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BOLSHoV. Now consider, Lazar, what trading's like: just think about it. You think it's getting money for nothing? "Money, not much!" they tell you; "ain't seen any for a long time. Take my note," they say. But what are you going to get from some people on a note? Here I have about a hundred thousand rubles' worth of 'em lying around, and with protests. You don't do anything but add to the heap each year. If you want, I'll sell you the whole pile for half a ruble in silver. You'll never catch the men who signed 'em even with bloodhounds. Some have died off, some have run away; there's not even a single man to put in the pen. Suppose you do send one there, Lazar, that doesn't do you any good; some of 'em will hold on so that you can't smoke 'em out. "I'm all right here," they say, "you go hang!" Isn't that so, Lazar?

PODKHALYuZIN. Just so, that's the way it happens.

BOLSHoV. Always notes, notes! But what on earth is a note? Absolutely nothing but paper, if I may say so. And if you discount it, they do it at a rate that makes your belly ache, and you pay for it later with your own property. [_After a brief silence_] It's better not to have dealings with provincials: always on credit, always on credit; and if he ever does bring the money, it's in slick small change--you look, and there's neither head nor tail to the coins, and the denomination's rubbed off long ago. But do as you please here! You'd better not show your goods to the tradesman of this place; any one of 'em'll go into any warehouse and sniff and peck, and peck, and then clear out. It'd be all right if there were no goods, but what do you expect a man to trade in? I've got one apothecary shop, one dry goods, the third a grocery. No use, none of them pays. You needn't even go to the market; they cut the prices down worse than the devil knows what; but if you sell a horse-collar, you have to throw in tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs and earnest money, and treat the fellows, and stand all sorts of losses through wrong weights. That's the way it goes! Don't you realize that?

PODKHALYuZIN. Seems I ought to realize it, sir.

BOLSHoV. There's business for you, and that's the way to do it. [_Silence_]

Well, Lazar, what do you think?

PODKHALYuZIN. What should I think, sir? That's just as you please. My business is that of a subordinate.

BOLSHoV. What do you mean, subordinate? Just speak out freely. I'm asking you about the business.

PODKHALYuZIN. Again, Samson Silych, it's just as you please, sir.

BOLSHoV. You twaddle one thing: "As you please." But what do you think?

PODKHALYuZIN. That I can't say, sir.

BOLSHoV. [_After a brief silence_] Tell me, Lazar, on your conscience; do you love me? [_Silence_] Do you love me or not? Why are you silent?

[_Silence_] I've given you food and drink, set you up in the world; haven't I?

PODKHALYuZIN. Oh, Samson Silych! What's the use of talking about it, sir?

Don't have any doubts about me! Only one word: I'm just such as you see me.

BOLSHoV. What do you mean by that?

PODKHALYuZIN. Why, if you need anybody or anything whatsoever, you can count on me. I shan't spare myself.

BOLSHoV. Well, then, there's nothing more to be said. In my opinion, Lazar, now is the most proper time; we have a good deal of ready cash, and all the notes have fallen due. What's the use of waiting? You'll wait, if you please, until some merchant just like yourself, the dirty cur, will strip you bare, and then, you'll see, he'll make an agreement at ten kopeks on the ruble, and he'll wallow in his millions, and won't think you're worth spitting at. But you, an honorable tradesman, must just watch him, and suffer--keep on staring. Here's what I think, Lazar: to offer the creditors such a proposition as this--will they accept from me twenty-five kopeks on the ruble? What do you think?

PODKHALYuZIN. Why, according to my notion, Samson Silych, if you're going to pay at the rate of twenty-five kopeks, it would be more decent not to pay at all.

BOLSHoV. Why, really, that's so. You won't scare anybody by a bluff; but it's better to settle the affair on the quiet. Then wait for the Lord to judge you at the Second Coming. Only it's a heap of trouble. I'm going to mortgage my house and shops to you.

PODKHALYuZIN. Impossible to do it without some bother, sir. You'll have to get rid of the notes for something, sir; have the merchandise transferred somewhere further off. We'll get busy, sir!

BOLSHoV. Just so. Although an old man, I'm going to get busy. But are you going to help?

PODKHALYuZIN. Good gracious, Samson Silych, I'll go through fire and water, sir.

BOLSHoV. What could be better! Why the devil should I scratch around for pennies. I'll make one swoop, and that's an end to it! Only G.o.d give us the nerve! Thanks, Lazar. You've treated me like a friend. [_He rises_] Now, get busy! [_He goes up to him and taps him on the shoulder_] If you get the thing done properly, you and I'll divide the profits. I'll reward you for the rest of your life.

[_He goes to the door._

PODKHALYuZIN. I don't need anything, Samson Silych, except your peace of mind, sir. I've lived with you since my earliest years, and I've received countless favors from you; it may be said, sir, you took me as a little brat, to sweep out your shops; consequently I simply must be grateful.

ACT II

_Office in the house of BOLSHoV. Rear centre a door; on the left a staircase leading to the floor above._

SCENE I

TISHKA _near the front of the stage, with a brush_

TISHKA. What a life, what a life! Sweep the floors before daylight! And is it my business to sweep floors? Things aren't the same here as with decent folks. Now if the other bosses have a boy, he lives with the boys; that is, he hangs around the shop. But with me it's now here, now there, tramp the pavement all day as if you were crazy. You'll soon feather your nest--I don't think! Decent people keep a porter for running around; but at our place he lies on the stove with the kittens, or he hangs around with the cook; but _you're_ in demand. At other people's it's easy-going; if you get into mischief now and then, they make allowances for your youth. But at our house--if it isn't he, then it's somebody else; either the old man or the old woman will give you a hiding; otherwise there's the clerk Lazar, or there's Fominishna, or there's--any old rascal can lord it over you. What a cursed life it is! But if you want to tear yourself away from the house and go somewhere with friends to play three-card monte, or have a game of handball--don't think of such a thing! Now, really, there's something feels wrong in my head. [_He climbs upon a chair on his knees and looks in the mirror_] How do you do, Tikhon Savostyanovich! How are you getting along?

Are you all top notch? Now, then, Tishka, just do a stunt. [_He makes a grimace_] That's what! [_Another_] Exactly like----

[_He bursts out laughing_.

SCENE II

TISHKA _and_ PODKHALYuZIN, _who steals in and seizes him by the collar_.

PODKHALYuZIN. What are you doing there, you little imp?

TISHKA. What? You know what! I was wiping off dust!

PODKHALYuZIN. Were you wiping it off with your tongue? As if you could find any dust on the mirror! I'll show you some dust! You're showing off! I'll just warm up the nape of your neck so you'll know it.

TISHKA. Know what? Now what have I done?

PODKHALYuZIN. What have you done? What have you done? Say another word and you'll find out what! Just let out a peep!

TISHKA. Yes, a peep! I'm going to tell the boss, and then you'll catch it!

PODKHALYuZIN. Going to tell the boss! What's your boss to me? Why, if it came to that--what's your boss to me!--Why, you're just a kid that has to be taught; what were you thinking of? If we didn't wallop you imps there'd be no good come of you. That's the regular way of doing things. I, myself, my boy, have come through fire, water, and copper pipes.

TISHKA. I know you did.

PODKHALYuZIN. Shhh--you little devil! [_Threatening him_.

TISHKA. Ha, just try it! I'll sure tell, honest to goodness I will.

PODKHALYuZIN. What are you going to tell, you devil's pepper-pot?

TISHKA. What'll I say? Why, that you scold!

PODKHALYuZIN. Great impression that'll make! You're quite a gentleman! Come here, sir! Has Sysoy Psoich been here?

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Plays by Aleksandr Nikolaevich Ostrovsky Part 61 summary

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