The Essential Russian Plays & Short Stories. Максим Горький
turn gray. But his face is manly and handsome, and he walks with calm dignity and an air of coldness. He looks straight ahead of him, as if not noticing those around him. His Wife has also aged, but she is still beautiful and walks leaning on his arm. She too seems not to notice the people around her, but looks straight ahead, with a rather strange, almost fixed expression. Both are richly dressed.
His Friends follow directly behind Man. They resemble one another very much—noble faces, high and candid foreheads, honest eyes. They walk proudly, throwing out their chests, stepping firmly and confidently, and looking, now to this side, now to that, with condescension and slight disdain. They wear white roses in their buttonholes.
Following them at a slight distance come Man's Enemies, also very much resembling one another—mean, cunning faces; low, heavy foreheads; long, ape-like arms. They walk uneasily, pushing, bending, and hiding behind one another, and casting sharp, mean, envious, sidelong glances from beneath lowered lids. Yellow roses appear in their buttonholes. Thus they pass through the room, slowly and in perfect silence. The sounds of the steps, the music, and the exclamations of the Guests produce a sharply discordant noise._
GUESTS' CONVERSATION
—There they are. There they are. What an honor!
—How handsome he is!
—What a manly face!
—Look! Look!
—He isn't looking at us!
—He doesn't see us!
—We are his guests!
—What an honor! What an honor!
—And his wife! Look! Look!
—How beautiful she is!
—How proud!
—I tell you, just look at her diamonds!
—Her pearls! Her pearls!
—And her rubies!
—How rich! What an honor!
—Honor! Honor! Honor!
[The same phrases are repeated again.
—Here are Man's Friends!
—Look, look, there are Man's Friends.
—Noble faces!
—Proud gait!
—They shine with the reflected splendor of his fame.
—How they love him!
—How faithful they are to him!
—What an honor to be one of Man's Friends!
—They regard everything here as their own!
—They're at home here!
—What an honor!
—Honor! Honor! Honor!
[Same phrases are repeated.
—And there are Man's Enemies!
—Look, look, Man's Enemies!
—They walk like whipped curs!
—Man has subdued them!
—He's put a muzzle on them!
—They're wagging their tails!
—They're sneaking behind one another.
—They're pushing one another.
—Ha-ha! Ha-ha!
[Everybody laughs.
—What mean faces!
—What greedy looks!
—Cowardly!
—Malevolent!
—They're afraid to look at us!
—They feel we're at home!
—Let's frighten them.
—Man'll be thankful to us for it.
—Ho-ho!
[They shout at Man's Enemies, mingling their shouts with laughter. The Enemies huddle closer together and cast sharp, timid, sideward glances.
—They're going! They're going!
—What an honor!
—They're going!
—Ho-ho! Ha-ha!
—They're gone! They're gone! They're gone!
[The procession disappears through the door on the left. A pause of silence. The music plays less loudly, and the dancers begin gradually to fill the hall.
—Where did they go?
—I believe they went to the dining-room, where supper is being served.
—I suppose they'll soon invite us in. Do you see anybody looking for us?
—Yes, it's time for supper. If you eat too late, you can't sleep well.
—I always serve supper early.
—A late supper lies heavy on your stomach.
—And the music is still playing.
—And they're still dancing.
—I wonder they don't get tired.
—How rich!
—How magnificent!
—Do you know for how many guests they have prepared the supper?
—I didn't get a chance to count all the covers. The caterer came in, and I had to get out.
—Could they possibly have forgotten us?
—Man is so proud, and we are so unimportant.
—Don't say that. My husband says we do him an honor by accepting his invitation. We are rich, too.
—When you consider the reputation of his wife—
—Do you see anyone looking for us? Maybe he's looking for us in the other rooms.
—How rich!
—If you are not careful with other people's money, it's easy to get rich, I think.
—Oh, now, it's only his enemies who say that.
—Well, after all, there are some very respectable people among them.
I must admit that my husband—
—It is late, though.
—It's clear there must be a mistake somewhere. I can't believe we've simply been forgotten.
—Evidently you know people and life very little if you think so.
—I am surprised. We are rich enough ourselves.
—It seems to me someone called us.
—You're mistaken, no one called us. I don't understand it. To be quite frank—why did we come to a house like this, with such a reputation? One should be very careful of the friends one chooses.
A LIVERIED LACKEY (appears at the door)
Man and his Wife beg the honored guests to step into the dining-room.
GUESTS (rising quickly)
—What a livery!
—He asked us to come in!
—I said there must be a mistake somewhere.
—Man is so good. I'm sure he hasn't had a chance to sit down at