Andreev thought to read the summary. Leonid Andreev "Thought

Leonid Andreev

On December 11, 1900, Doctor of Medicine Anton Ignatievich Kerzhentsev committed a murder. As the entire set of data in which the crime was committed, and some of the circumstances that preceded it gave rise to suspect Kerzhentsev in the abnormality of his mental abilities.

Put on trial at the Elisabeth Psychiatric Hospital, Kerzhentsev was subjected to the strict and careful supervision of several experienced psychiatrists, among whom was Professor Drzhembitsky, who had recently died. Here are the written explanations that were given about what happened by Dr. Kerzhentsev himself a month after the start of the test; together with other materials obtained by the investigation, they formed the basis of the forensic examination.

Sheet one

Until now, gg. experts, I was hiding the truth, but now circumstances force me to reveal it. And, having recognized her, you will understand that the matter is not at all as simple as it might seem to laymen: either a feverish shirt, or shackles. There is a third thing here - not shackles and not a shirt, but, perhaps, more terrible than both, taken together.

Aleksey Konstantinovich Savelov, who was killed by me, was my friend in the gymnasium and the university, although we diverged in specialties: I, as you know, a doctor, and he completed a course in the Faculty of Law. It cannot be said that I did not love the deceased; I have always liked him, and I have never had any closer friends than him. But for all his cute properties, he did not belong to those people who can inspire me with respect. The amazing softness and pliability of his nature, the strange inconstancy in the field of thought and feeling, the sharp extreme and groundlessness of his constantly changing judgments made me look at him as a child or a woman. People close to him, often suffering from his antics and at the same time, due to the illogical nature of human nature, who loved him very much, tried to find an excuse for his shortcomings and their feelings and called him an "artist." Indeed, it turned out that this insignificant word completely justifies him and that what would be bad for any normal person makes him indifferent and even good. Such was the power of the invented word that even I at one time succumbed to the general mood and willingly excused Alexei for his minor shortcomings. Small - because he was incapable of big, like everything big. His literary works, in which everything is petty and insignificant, is enough evidence of this, no matter what the short-sighted critic may say, greedy for the discovery of new talents. His works were beautiful and insignificant, he himself was beautiful and insignificant.

When Alexei died, he was thirty-one years old - one and a little bit younger than me.

Alexey was married. If you have seen his wife now, after his death, when she is in mourning, you cannot get an idea of ​​how beautiful she once was: so much, much she looked ugly. The cheeks are gray, and the skin on the face is so flabby, old, old, like a worn glove. And wrinkles. These are wrinkles now, and another year will pass - and there will be deep grooves and ditches: she loved him so much! And now her eyes no longer sparkle and do not laugh, but before they always laughed, even at the time when they needed to cry. I saw her only for one minute, accidentally bumping into her at the investigator's, and was amazed at the change. She could not even look at me angrily. So pathetic!

Only three - Alexey, me and Tatyana Nikolaevna - knew that five years ago, two years before Alexei's marriage, I made Tatyana Nikolaevna an offer, and it was rejected. Of course, it is only assumed that there are three, and probably Tatyana Nikolaevna has a dozen more girlfriends and friends who were informed in detail about how one day Dr. Kerzhentsev dreamed of marriage and received a humiliating refusal. I don't know if she remembers that she laughed then; probably doesn't remember - she had to laugh so often. And then remind her: on the fifth of September she laughed. If she refuses - and she refuses - then remind how it was. I, this strong man who never cried, who was never afraid of anything - I stood in front of her and trembled. I was trembling and saw her biting her lip, and I had already reached out to hug her when she looked up, and there was laughter in them. My hand remained in the air, she laughed, and laughed for a long time. As much as she wanted. But then she apologized.

Excuse me, please, ”she said, her eyes laughing.

And I smiled too, and if I could forgive her for her laugh, I will never forgive this smile of mine. It was the fifth of September, at six o'clock in the evening, St. Petersburg time. In St. Petersburg, I add, because we were then at the station platform, and now I clearly see the large white dial and the position of the black arrows: up and down. Alexei Konstantinovich was also killed at exactly six o'clock. A strange coincidence, but it can reveal a lot to a shrewd person.

One of the reasons for putting me here was the lack of motive for crime. Now you see that the motive existed. Of course, this was not jealousy. The latter presupposes in a person an ardent temperament and weakness of thinking abilities, that is, something directly opposite to me, a cold and rational person. Revenge? Yes, rather revenge, if the old word is so necessary to define a new and unfamiliar feeling. The fact is that Tatyana Nikolaevna once again made me wrong, and this always made me angry. Knowing Alexei well, I was sure that in a marriage with him, Tatyana Nikolaevna would be very unhappy and regret me, and therefore I insisted so much that Alexei, who was still just in love, should marry her. Just a month before his tragic death, he told me:

It is to you that I owe my happiness. Really, Tanya?

Yes, brother, you gave a blast!

This inappropriate and tactless joke shortened his life by a whole week: I originally decided to kill him on December 18th.

Yes, their marriage turned out to be happy, and it was she who was happy. He did not love Tatyana Nikolaevna very much, and in general he was not capable of deep love. He had his favorite business - literature - which took his interests outside the bedroom. And she loved him and lived only with him. Then he was an unhealthy person: frequent headaches, insomnia, and this, of course, tormented him. And she even took care of him, the patient, and fulfill his whims was happiness. After all, when a woman falls in love, she becomes insane.

And so, day after day, I saw her smiling face, her happy face, young, beautiful, carefree. And I thought: I arranged it. He wanted to give her a dissolute husband and deprive her of himself, but instead of that he gave her one whom she loves, and he himself remained with her. You will understand this oddity: she is smarter than her husband and loved to talk with me, but after talking, she went to bed with him - and was happy.

I do not remember when the idea first came to me to kill Alexei. Somehow imperceptibly she appeared, but from the first minute she became so old, as if I was born with her. I know that I wanted to make Tatyana Nikolaevna unhappy, and that at first I came up with many other plans, less disastrous for Alexei - I have always been an enemy of unnecessary cruelty. Using my influence on Alexei, I thought to make him fall in love with another woman or make him a drunkard (he had a penchant for this), but all these methods did not work. The fact is that Tatyana Nikolaevna would have contrived to remain happy, even giving it to another woman, listening to his drunken chatter or accepting his drunken caresses. She needed this man to live, and she served him in one way or another. There are such slavish natures. And, like slaves, they cannot understand and appreciate the strength of others, not the strength of their master. There were smart, good and talented women in the world, but the world has never seen and will not see a fair woman.

Thought is energy, a force that has no boundaries.

Most of the people on our blue ball are capable of thinking, or at one time could. It was only at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries that they could figure out what a thought is, when the vanguard of scientists began to storm the human brain, but writers are not scientists, they interpret the question in a completely different way, and the result may be a masterpiece. The "Silver Age" began to advance, and changes swept over the coastal islands like a tsunami. In 1914, the story "Thought" was published.

Andreev was able to write a story about psychology and the human psyche, being without any education in this area. "Thought" - that same story - was unique in its kind at that time. Some people saw in it a treatise on the human psyche, others - a philosophical novel in the style of Dostoevsky, which Andreev admired, but there are those who argued that "thought" is nothing more than a kind of scientific work and was copied from the real prototype. Andreev, in turn, said that he had nothing to do with the field of psychology.

The story begins with the lines:

“On December 11, 1900, Doctor of Medicine Anton Ignatievich Kerzhentsev committed a murder. As the entire set of data under which the crime was committed, and some of the circumstances that preceded it gave rise to suspect Kerzhantsev in the abnormality of his mental abilities "

Next, we follow how Kerzhantsev describes in his certain diary the purpose of the murder, why he did it and, most importantly, what thought overcame him and is still spinning in his head. We read a full analysis of his actions for several days, we observe that Anton Ignatievich intended to kill his best friend, since he married a girl whom he himself wanted to be married to, but she refused him. Surprisingly, Kerzhantsev himself was loved, the very one he found after an unsuccessful relationship with the wife of Alexei - the best friend of the protagonist.

An incomprehensible motive, strange thoughts - all this makes Kerzhantsev remember his childhood. His father did not love him and did not believe in his child, so Anton Ignatievich proved all his life that he was capable of much. And he proved - by becoming a respected and wealthy doctor.

The idea of ​​killing Alexei absorbed him more and more, Kerzhantsev began to feign seizures, so that if something happened, he would not end up in hard labor. He found out that his inheritance fits perfectly: his father was an alcoholic, and his only sister, Anna, suffered from epilepsy. And in the end, in complete surprise for himself, he commits crimes when he convinced everyone that he was in a bad state (surprises because he intended to kill in a completely different way from how he did it). Kerzhantsev kills Alexei and hides from the place of his offense.

He makes his notes for experts who must decide whether the criminal is healthy. Experts are the reader, and this mission is laid upon us. Finding out the adequacy of the hero. He doubts his goals, but he is sure that he is not crazy. Although he asks a very strange question, which is more for himself than for others: "Did I pretend to be crazy in order to kill, or killed because I was crazy?"

And he concludes that the most amazing and incomprehensible in the world is human thought. At the end of the story, no verdict is issued about the future fate of Anton Ignatievich, as he predicted - the opinion over his adequacy was divided, and in the end we only get resources for reasoning and arguing over this difficult issue.

Thought is an engine, it turns the piston in the heads of many, and Andreev made one of his attempts to understand the operation of this engine in his ingenious and rather complicated story - “Thought”. Did he succeed in this attempt? Only those who read the work will answer, even after more than a hundred years from the moment of writing.

This book is like a headshot! This book will make you brainwash.

A very powerful thing, reading this work, you delve deep into yourself.

If you are not deprived of the mind and can into reflection, this work is for you.

Read, delve into, absorb, transform.

Grade 5 out of 5 stars from Extra Man 16.04.2017 14:23

What a great psychologist Andreev! How subtly he describes all the facets of the human soul! He fascinates with his speech, the formulation of states, experiences, sensations. It is hard to believe that a story like Thought could have been written by a person not personally familiar with madness. Something similar to Kafka, he opens a new world for readers, allows you to delve into not only the soul of Dr. Krezhentsev, but also in his own.
As it turned out, the most terrible thing for a person is not everyday troubles and misfortunes, but the destruction of the castle of the soul. Imagine that what you believed in, what you lived, what was your support - dissolves in the fog, disappears like dew on the grass on a summer morning, and even worse - you understand that this fortress did not exist, that it was all just a mirage. Probably not in vain Krezhentsev wanted so much to be recognized as sane and sent to hard labor. After all, he wanted to run away from himself, from what used to be his world - from his thought.

“My castle has become my prison. Enemies attacked me in my castle. Where is salvation? In the inaccessibility of the castle, in the thickness of its walls - my death. The voice does not come out. And who's strong will save me? No one. For no one is stronger than me, and I - I am the only enemy of my "I". "

If you knew how this phrase affected me. How she turned everything upside down in my soul. And I realized - there is nothing more important than confidence in your own thought, the knowledge that she will not betray, as our hero.

“A vile thought betrayed me, the one who believed in her so much and loved her. It did not get any worse: the same light, sharp, elastic, like a rapier, but its hilt is no longer in my hand. And me, her creator, her master, she kills with the same stupid indifference as I killed others with her. "

Leonid Andreev allowed us to pass judgment on the doctor ourselves. And it gave us space to think. And I am sure that each reader will interpret the state of mind of the hero in his own way. But, nevertheless, I am inclined to believe that he was initially ill.

“Night is falling, and I am seized with a frenzied horror. I was firm on the ground, and my feet were firmly on it - and now I am thrown into the void of endless space. "

Every phrase, every word in the story gets into the very depths of the soul, wanders through its dark corridors and rooms, closing windows and doors more tightly so that she does not leave me. She is Thought.
How I want to disassemble the entire book into quotes, and throw out the emotions that were given by reading it. How she inspired me, gave me wings. And I want to write about it, write, write about it. And in my head there are still so many ideas that she formed ...
When asked if I will read any more Andreev's works, I will answer without hesitation "Yes!"

On December 11, 1900, Doctor of Medicine Anton Ignatievich Kerzhentsev committed a murder. As the entire set of data in which the crime was committed, and some of the circumstances that preceded it gave rise to suspect Kerzhentsev in the abnormality of his mental abilities.

Put on trial at the Elisabeth Psychiatric Hospital, Kerzhentsev was subjected to the strict and careful supervision of several experienced psychiatrists, among whom was Professor Drzhembitsky, who had recently died. Here are the written explanations that were given about what happened by Dr. Kerzhentsev himself a month after the start of the test; together with other materials obtained by the investigation, they formed the basis of the forensic examination.

Sheet one

Until now, gg. experts, I was hiding the truth, but now circumstances force me to reveal it. And, having recognized her, you will understand that the matter is not at all as simple as it might seem to laymen: either a feverish shirt, or shackles. There is a third - not shackles and not a shirt, but, perhaps, more terrible than both, taken together.

Aleksey Konstantinovich Savelov, who was killed by me, was my friend in the gymnasium and the university, although we diverged in specialties: I, as you know, a doctor, and he completed a course in the Faculty of Law. It cannot be said that I did not love the deceased; I have always liked him, and I have never had any closer friends than him. But for all his cute properties, he did not belong to those people who can inspire me with respect. The amazing softness and pliability of his nature, the strange inconstancy in the field of thought and feeling, the sharp extreme and groundlessness of his constantly changing judgments made me look at him as a child or a woman. People close to him, often suffering from his antics and at the same time, due to the illogical nature of human nature, who loved him very much, tried to find an excuse for his shortcomings and their feelings and called him an "artist." Indeed, it turned out that this insignificant word completely justifies him and that what would be bad for any normal person makes him indifferent and even good. Such was the power of the invented word that even I at one time succumbed to the general mood and willingly excused Alexei for his minor shortcomings. Small - because he was incapable of big, like everything big. His literary works, in which everything is petty and insignificant, is enough evidence of this, no matter what the short-sighted critic may say, greedy for the discovery of new talents. His works were beautiful and insignificant, he himself was beautiful and insignificant.

When Alexei died, he was thirty-one years old - one and a little bit younger than me.

Alexey was married. If you saw his wife, now, after his death, when she is in mourning, you cannot get an idea of ​​how beautiful she once was: she has become so ugly, so much. The cheeks are gray, and the skin on the face is so flabby, old, old, like a worn glove. And wrinkles. These are now wrinkles, and another year will pass - and it will be deep grooves and ditches: she loved him so much! And now her eyes no longer sparkle and do not laugh, but before they always laughed, even at the time when they needed to cry. I saw her for only one minute, accidentally bumping into her at the investigator's, and was amazed at the change. She could not even look at me angrily. So pathetic!

Only three - Alexei, I and Tatyana Nikolaevna - knew that five years ago, two years before Alexei's marriage, I made Tatyana Nikolaevna an offer and it was rejected. Of course, it is only assumed that three, and, probably, Tatyana Nikolaevna has a dozen more girlfriends and friends who were thoroughly informed about how one day Dr. Kerzhentsev dreamed of marriage and received a humiliating refusal. I don't know if she remembers that she laughed then; probably doesn't remember - she had to laugh so often. And then remind her: on the fifth of September she laughed. If she refuses - and she refuses - then remind how it was. I, this strong man who never cried, who was never afraid of anything - I stood in front of her and trembled. I was trembling and saw her biting her lip, and I had already reached out to hug her when she looked up, and there was laughter in them. My hand remained in the air, she laughed and laughed for a long time. As much as she wanted. But then she apologized.

“Excuse me, please,” she said, her eyes laughing.

And I also smiled, and if I could forgive her for her laugh, I will never forgive this smile of mine. It was the 5th of September, at six o'clock in the evening, St. Petersburg time. In St. Petersburg, I add, because we were then at the station platform, and now I clearly see the large white dial and the position of the black arrows: up and down. Alexei Konstantinovich was also killed at exactly six o'clock. A strange coincidence, but it can reveal a lot to a shrewd person.

One of the reasons for putting me here was the lack of motive for crime. Now do you see that the motive existed? Of course, this was not jealousy. The latter presupposes in a person an ardent temperament and weakness of thinking abilities, that is, something directly opposite to me, a cold and rational person. Revenge? Yes, rather revenge, if the old word is so necessary to define a new and unfamiliar feeling. The fact is that Tatyana Nikolaevna once again made me wrong, and this always made me angry. Knowing Alexei well, I was sure that in a marriage with him Tatyana Nikolaevna would be very unhappy and regret me, and therefore I insisted so much that Alexei, who was still just in love, should marry her. Just a month before his tragic death, he told me:

- It is you I owe my happiness. Really, Tanya?

- Yes, brother, you gave a blunder!

This inappropriate and tactless joke shortened his life by a whole week: I originally decided to kill him on December 18th.

Yes, their marriage turned out to be happy, and it was she who was happy. He did not love Tatyana Nikolaevna very much, and in general he was not capable of deep love. He had his favorite business - literature, which took his interests outside the bedroom. And she loved only him and lived only by him. Then, he was an unhealthy person: frequent headaches, insomnia, and this, of course, tormented him. And she even took care of him, the patient, and fulfill his whims was happiness. After all, when a woman falls in love, she becomes insane.

And from day to day I saw her smiling face, her happy face, young, beautiful, carefree. And I thought: I arranged it. He wanted to give her a dissolute husband and deprive her of himself, but instead of that he gave her one whom she loves, and he himself remained with her. You will understand this oddity: she is smarter than her husband and loved to talk with me, but after talking, she went to bed with him and was happy.

I do not remember when the idea first came to me to kill Alexei. Somehow imperceptibly she appeared, but from the first minute she became so old, as if I was born with her. I know that I wanted to make Tatyana Nikolaevna unhappy and that at first I came up with many other plans, less disastrous for Alexei - I have always been an enemy of unnecessary cruelty. Using my influence on Alexei, I thought to make him fall in love with another woman or make him a drunkard (he had a penchant for this), but all these methods did not work. The fact is that Tatyana Nikolaevna would have contrived to remain happy, even giving it to another woman, listening to his drunken chatter or accepting his drunken caresses. She needed this person to live, and she served him in one way or another. There are such slavish natures. And, like slaves, they cannot understand and appreciate the strength of others, not the strength of their master. There were smart, good and talented women in the world, but the world has never seen and will not see a fair woman.

L. N. Andreev

Contemporary tragedy in three acts and six scenes

Leonid Andreev. Plays M., "Soviet Writer", 1981

CHARACTERS

Kerzhentsev Anton Ignatievich, Doctor of Medicine. Kraft, a pale young man. Savelov Alexey Konstantinovich, famous writer. Tatyana Nikolaevna, his wife. Sasha, the Savelovs' maid. Daria Vasilievna, housekeeper in Kerzhentsev's house. Vasily, servant of Kerzhentsev. Masha, nurse at the hospital for the insane. Vasilyeva, nurse. Fedorovich, writer. Semenov Evgeniy Ivanovich, psychiatrist, professor. Ivan Petrovich | Direct Sergei Sergeevich) doctors in the hospital. Third doctor. | Nurse. The attendants in the hospital.

Dedicated to Anna Ilyinichna Andreeva

ACTION ONE

PICTURE ONE

Rich office-library of Dr. Kerzhentsev. Evening. Electricity is on. The light is soft. In the corner there is a cage with a large orangutan who is now asleep; only a red, woolly lump is visible. The canopy, which usually twitches the corner with the cage, is pulled back: Kerzhentsev and a very pale young man, whom the owner calls by his last name, Kraft, are examining the sleeping person.

Craft. He's sleeping. Kerzhentsev. Yes. So he sleeps all day now. This is the third orangutan to die of boredom in this cage. Call him by name - Jaipur, he has a name. He is from India. My first orangutan, an African, was called Zuga, the second - in honor of my father - Ignatius. (Laughs.) Ignatius. Craft. He's playing ... Is Jaipur playing? Kerzhentsev. Now it is not enough. Craft. It seems to me that this is homesickness. Kerzhentsev. No, Kraft. Travelers tell interesting things about gorillas that they have seen in their natural conditions. It turns out that gorillas, just like our poets, are subject to melancholy. Suddenly something happens, the hairy pessimist stops playing and dies of melancholy. So it dies - not bad, Kraft? Craft. It seems to me that tropical melancholy is even worse than ours. Kerzhentsev. Do you remember that they never laugh? Dogs laugh, but they don't. Craft. Yes. Kerzhentsev. Have you seen in the menageries how two monkeys, having played, suddenly calm down and snuggle up to each other - what a sad, demanding and hopeless look they have? Craft. Yes. But where did they get their longing? Kerzhentsev. Guess! But let's move away, let's not interfere with his sleep - from sleep he imperceptibly goes to death. (Pulls back the curtain.) And now, when he sleeps for a long time, signs of rigor mortis are observed in him. Sit down, Kraft.

Both sit down at the table.

Shall we play chess? Craft. No, I don't feel like it today. Your Jaipur has upset me. Poison him, Anton Ignatievich. Kerzhentsev. There is no need. He will die himself. And the wine, Kraft?

Calls. Silence. Servant VASILY enters.

Vasily, tell the housekeeper to give me a bottle of Johannisberg. Two glasses.

Vasily leaves and soon returns with wine.

Put it on. Please drink Kraft. Craft. What do you think, Anton Ignatievich? Kerzhentsev. About Jaipur? Craft. Yes, about his longing. Kerzhentsev. I thought a lot, a lot ... How do you find wine? Craft. Good wine. Kerzhentsev (examines the glass to the light). Can you find out the year? Craft. No, really. I am generally indifferent to wine. Kerzhentsev. And this is a pity, Kraft, a pity. You must love wine and know how everything you love. My Jaipur has upset you - but he probably wouldn't be dying of boredom if he knew how to drink wine. However, you have to drink wine for twenty thousand years to be able to do this. Craft. Tell me about Jaipur. (Sits deep in a chair and rests his head on his arm.) Kerzhentsev. There was a disaster here, Kraft. Craft. Yes? Kerzhentsev. Yes, some kind of disaster. Where does this longing for monkeys, this incomprehensible and terrible melancholy, from which they go crazy and die in despair, come from? Craft. Are they going crazy? Kerzhentsev. Probably. No one in the animal world, except for humanoid apes, knows this melancholy ... Kraft. Dogs often howl. Kerzhentsev. This is different, Kraft, this is fear of the unknown world, this is horror! Now look into his eyes when he yearns: they are almost ours, human eyes. Look at its general humanity ... my Jaipur often sat in thought, almost as you do now ... and understand where this melancholy comes from? Yes, I sat for hours in front of the cage, I gazed into his yearning eyes, I myself looked for an answer in his tragic silence - and then it seemed to me one day: he yearns, he dimly dreams of the time when he was also a man, a king, what something in the highest form. You see, Kraft: was! (Raises a finger.) Craft. Let's admit. Kerzhentsev. Let's admit. But now I look further, Kraft, I look deeper into his melancholy, I no longer spend hours, I sit in front of his silent eyes for days - and now I see: either he was already a king, or ... listen, Kraft! or he could become one, but something prevented. He does not remember the past, no - he yearns and desperately dreams of the future that was taken from him. He is all - the striving for the highest form, he is all - longing for the highest form, for in front of him ... in front of him, Kraft, is a wall! Craft. Yes, this is melancholy. Kerzhentsev. This is melancholy, do you understand, Kraft? He walked, but some wall blocked his path. Do you understand? He walked, but some kind of catastrophe broke out over his head - and he stopped. Or maybe the catastrophe even threw him back - but he stopped. Wall, Craft, disaster! His brain stopped, Kraft - and everything stopped with him! Everything! Craft. You come back to your thought again. Kerzhentsev. Yes. There is something terrible about the past of my Jaipur, in those dark depths from which he came - but he cannot tell. He doesn't know himself! He is only dying of unbearable melancholy. Thought! - Yes, of course, a thought! (Gets up and walks around the office.) Yes. That thought, the power of which we all know, Kraft, suddenly betrayed him, suddenly stopped and became. This is terrible! This is a terrible catastrophe, worse than a flood! And he covered himself with hair again, he got down on all fours again, he stopped laughing - he must die of melancholy. He's the dethroned king, Kraft! He is the ex-king of the earth! From his kingdoms remained a few stones, and where is the lord - where is the priest - where is the king? The king wanders through the woods and dies of melancholy. Thumbs up, Kraft?

Silence. Craft in the same pose, motionless. Kerzhentsev walks around the room.

When I examined the brain of the late Ignatius, not my father, but this ... (Laughs.) This one was also Ignatius ... Kraft. Why are you laughing a second time about your father? Kerzhentsev. Because I didn't respect him, Kraft.

Silence.

Craft. What did you find when you opened the skull of Ignatius? Kerzhentsev. Yes, I didn't respect my father. Listen, Kraft, my Jaipur is going to die soon: would you like to explore his brain together? It will be interesting. (Sits down.) Craft. Good. And when I die - will you see my brain? Kerzhentsev. If you will bequeath it to me - with pleasure, that is, readily, I wanted to say. I don't like you lately, Kraft. You probably don't drink much wine. You start to yearn like Jaipur. Drink. Craft. Do not want. Are you always alone, Anton Ignatievich? Kerzhentsev (sharp). I don't need anyone. Craft. For some reason it seems to me today that you are a very unhappy person, Anton Ignatievich!

Silence. Kraft sighs and changes his pose.

Kerzhentsev. Look, Kraft, I didn't ask you to talk about my personal life. I like you, because you know how to think and you are worried about the same questions as me, I like our conversations and classes, but we are not friends, Kraft, I ask you to remember this! I have no friends, and I do not want them.

Silence. Kerzhentsev goes to the corner where the cage is, pulls back the canopy and listens: it's quiet there - and returns to his place again.

Asleep. However, I can tell you, Kraft, that I feel happy. Yes, happy! I have a thought, Kraft, I have - this is it! (He taps his forehead a little angrily.) I don't need anyone.

Silence. Kraft drinks wine reluctantly.

Drink it, drink it. And you know, Kraft, you will soon hear about me ... yes, in a month, a month and a half. Craft. Are you publishing a book? Kerzhentsev. A book? No, what nonsense! I don't want to publish any book, I work for myself. I don't need people - I think I’m telling you this for the third time, Kraft? Enough about people. No, it will be ... some experience. Yes, an interesting experience! Craft. Won't you tell me what's the matter? Kerzhentsev. No. I believe in your modesty, otherwise I would not have told you this - but no. You will hear. I wanted ... it happened so ... in a word, I want to know the strength of my thought, to measure its strength. You see, Kraft: you only recognize a horse when you ride it! (Laughs.) Craft. This is dangerous?

Silence. Kerzhentsev pondered.

Anton Ignatievich, is this your experience dangerous? I hear it in your laugh: you have a bad laugh. Kerzhentsev. Craft! .. Craft. I'm listening to. Kerzhentsev. Craft! Tell me, you are a serious young man: would you dare to pretend to be crazy for a month or two? Wait: don’t put on the mask of a cheap simulator - you understand, Kraft? - and cause by the spell of the spirit of madness itself. You see him: instead of a crown, there is straw in his gray hair, and his robes are torn to pieces - do you see, Kraft? Craft. I see. No, I wouldn't. Anton Ignatievich, is this your experience? Kerzhentsev. May be. But - let's leave, Kraft, let's leave. You are a really serious young man. Would you like some more wine? Craft. No thanks. Kerzhentsev. Dear Kraft, every time I see you, you are paler. You disappeared somewhere. Or are you unwell? What's wrong with you? Craft. This is personal, Anton Ignatievich. I also don't want to talk about the personal. Kerzhentsev. You are right, sorry.

Silence.

Do you know Alexey Savelov? Craft (indifferently). I am not familiar with all of his things, but I like him, he is talented. I have not yet read his last story, but praise ... Kerzhentsev. Nonsense! Craft. I heard that he is ... your friend? Kerzhentsev. Nonsense! But let him be a friend, let him be a friend. No, what are you talking about, Kraft: Savelov is talented! Talents must be preserved, talents must be cherished like the apple of an eye, and if he were talented! .. Craft. What? Kerzhentsev. Nothing! He is not a diamond - he is only diamond dust. He is a literary cutter! A genius and great talent always have sharp corners, and Savelov's diamond dust is needed only for cutting: others shine while he is working. But ... let's leave all the Savelovs alone, it's not interesting. Craft. Me too.

Silence.

Anton Ignatievich, can you wake up your Jaipur? I would like to look at him, in his eyes. Wake up. Kerzhentsev. Do you feel like it, Kraft? Okay, I'll wake him up ... unless he's already dead. Let's go.

Both go to the cage. Kerzhentsev pulls back the canopy.

Craft. He's sleeping? Kerzhentsev. Yes, he breathes. I'm waking him up, Kraft! ..

A curtain

PICTURE SECOND

The office of the writer Alexei Konstantinovich Savelov. Evening. Silence. Savelov writes at his desk; aside, at a small table, Savelov's wife, Tatyana Nikolaevna, is writing business letters.

Savelov (suddenly). Tanya, are the children sleeping? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Children? Savelov. Yes. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Kids are sleeping. We were already going to bed when I left the nursery. And what? Savelov. So. Don't bother.

Silence again. Both are writing. Savelov frowns gloomily, puts down his pen and walks around the office twice. Looks over Tatyana Nikolaevna's shoulder at her work.

What are you doing? Tatiana Nikolaevna. I am writing letters about that manuscript, you have to answer, Alyosha, it's awkward. Savelov. Tanya, go play me. I need. Don't say anything now - I need it. Go. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Good. What to play? Savelov. Do not know. Choose yourself. Go. Tatyana Nikolaevna goes into the next room, leaving the door open. There is a flash of light. Tatyana Nikolaevna plays the piano. (He walks around the room, sits down and listens. He smokes. He puts a cigarette, goes to the door and shouts from a distance.) Enough, Tanya. Do not. Go here! Tanya, do you hear?

Silently paces. Tatyana Nikolaevna enters and looks attentively at her husband.

Tatiana Nikolaevna. What are you, Alyosha, are you not working again? Savelov. Again. Tatiana Nikolaevna. From what? Savelov. Do not know. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Are you tired? Savelov. No.

Silence.

Tatiana Nikolaevna. Can I continue to write or leave? Savelov. No, leave it! You better talk to me ... but maybe you don't feel like talking to me? Tatiana Nikolaevna (smiles). Well, what nonsense, Alyosha, shame on you ... funny! Let it stay, I'll add it later, it doesn't matter. (Collecting letters.) Savelov (walks). I don't write at all today. And yesterday too. You see, I'm not that tired, what the hell! - but want something else. Something else. Something completely different! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Let's go to the theater. Savelov (stopping). In which? No, well, to hell with him. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes, it’s probably too late. Savelov. Well, to hell with him! There is not the slightest desire to go to the theater. It’s a pity that the children are asleep ... no, however, I don’t want children either. And I don’t want music - it only pulls my soul, it’s even worse from it. What do I want, Tanya? Tatiana Nikolaevna. I don’t know, my dear. Savelov. And I don’t know. No, I can guess what I want. Sit down and listen, huh? I need not write, - you understand, Tanhyun? - and do something yourself, move, wave your hands, perform some actions. Act! In the end, it’s simply unbearable: to be only a mirror, to hang on the wall of your office and only to reflect ... Wait: it’s not bad to write a sad, very sad tale about a mirror that for a hundred years has reflected murderers, beauties, kings, freaks - - and so longed for real life that it fell off the hook and ... Tatyana Nikolaevna. So what? Savelov. Well, it crashed, of course, what else? No, I'm tired of it, again fiction, fiction, royalty. Our famous Savelov wrote ... to hell with it! Tatiana Nikolaevna. And I will write down the topic. Savelov. Write it down if you want. No, just think, Tanheng: in six years I have never cheated on you! Never! Tatiana Nikolaevna. And Nadenka Skvortsova? Savelov. Leave it! No, I'm serious, Tanya: it's impossible, I'm starting to hate myself. A thrice-damned mirror that hangs motionless and can only reflect what itself wants to be reflected and passes by. Behind the mirror, amazing things can happen, but it reflects at this time some idiot, a fool who wanted to fix his tie! Tatiana Nikolaevna. This is not true, Alyosha. Savelov. You absolutely don't understand anything, Tatyana! I hate myself - do you understand that? No? I hate the little world that lives in me, right here in my head - the world of my images, my experience, my feelings. To hell! I am sick of what is in front of my eyes, I want what is behind me ... what is there? A whole huge world lives somewhere behind my back - and I feel how beautiful it is, but I can't turn my head. I can not! To hell. Soon I’ll quit writing altogether! Tatiana Nikolaevna. It will pass, Alyosha. Savelov. And it will be a pity if it passes. Oh, Lord, at least someone would come in and tell - he told about that life! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Can I call someone ... Alyosha, would you like me to call Fedorovich? Savelov. Fedorovich? To talk about literature all evening again? To hell! Tatiana Nikolaevna. But who then? I don't know who to call, who would suit your mood. Sigismund? Savelov. No! And I don't know anyone who would fit. Who?

Both think.

Tatiana Nikolaevna. And if Kerzhentsev? Savelov. Anton? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes, to Anton Ignatievich. If you call, he will come now, in the evenings he is always at home. If you don't feel like talking, then play chess with him. Savelov (stops and looks angrily at his wife). I won't play chess with Kerzhentsev, how can you not understand that? Last time he stabbed me with three moves ... what is so interesting for me to play with such ... Chigorin! And yet I understand that this is only a game, and he is serious, like an idol, and when I lose, he considers me a donkey. No, you don't need Kerzhentsev! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Well, talk, you are friends with him. Savelov. Talk to him yourself, you like to talk to him, but I don't want to. Firstly, only I will speak, and he will be silent. You never know people are silent, but he is terribly silent, disgusting! And then, he just bothered me with his dead monkeys, his divine thought - and the lackey Vaska, at whom he shouts like a bourgeois. Experimenter! A man has such a magnificent forehead, for which one can erect a monument - but what did he do? Nothing. If only I could beat the nuts with my forehead, it's still work. Phew, tired of running! (Sits down.) Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes ... I, Alyosha, do not like one thing: he has something sullen in his eyes. Apparently, he is really sick: this psychosis of his that Karasev spoke about ... Savelov. Leave it! I do not believe in his psychosis. Pretends to break the fool. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Well, you're too much, Alyosha. Savelov. No, not too much. I, my dear, know Anton from the gymnasium, for two years we were his most enamored friends - and this is the most insane person! And I don't believe him in anything. No, I don't want to talk about him. Tired of it! Tanya, I'll go somewhere. Tatiana Nikolaevna. With me? Savelov. No, I want one. Tanya, can I? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Go, of course. But where will you go - to someone? Savelov. Maybe I'll go to someone ... No, I really want to wander the streets, among the people. Push their elbows, see how they laugh, how their teeth bare ... Last time they beat someone on the boulevard, and I honestly, Tanechka, looked at the scandal with delight. Maybe I'll go to a restaurant. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Oh, Alyosha, darling, I'm afraid this is not necessary, dear. Again you will drink a lot and you will be unwell - no need! Savelov. No, what are you, Tanya! Yes, I forgot to tell you: I followed the general today. Some general was buried, and military music was playing - do you understand? This is not a Romanian violin that exhausts the soul: here you go firmly, in step - you feel the work. I love wind instruments. In copper pipes, when they cry and scream, in the drum roll with its cruel, hard, distinct rhythm ... What do you want?

The maid Sasha entered.

Tatiana Nikolaevna. Why aren't you knocking, Sasha? You to me? Sasha. No. Anton Ignatyich came and asked whether it was possible to visit you or not. They have already undressed. Savelov. Well, of course, call me. Tell him to come straight here.

The maid exits.

Tatiana Nikolaevna (smiles). Light in sight. Savelov. Ah, damn it! .. He will detain me, by God! Tanya, please stay with Kerzhentsev, and I'll go, I can't! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes, of course, go! After all, he is his own man, what embarrassment there can be ... Darling, you are completely upset! Savelov. Oh well! Now the person will come in, and you kiss. Tatiana Nikolaevna. I'll be in time! Kerzhentsev enters. Greets. The guest kisses Tatiana Nikolaevna's hand. Savelov. What are you, Antosha? And I, brother, am leaving. Kerzhentsev. Well, go, and I'll go out with you. Are you also going, Tatyana Nikolaevna? Savelov. No, she will stay, sit down. What did Karasev say about you: are you not quite well? Kerzhentsev. Trivia. Some weakening of memory, probably an accident, overwork. So the psychiatrist said. And what are they already saying? Savelov. They say, brother, they say! Why are you smiling, are you satisfied? I tell you, Tanya, that this is some kind of thing ... I don't believe you, Antosha! Kerzhentsev. In what do you not believe me, Alexey? Savelov (sharp). In everything.

Silence. Savelov walks angrily.

Tatiana Nikolaevna. And how is your Jaipur, Anton Ignatievich? Kerzhentsev. He died. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes? What a pity.

Savelov snorts contemptuously.

Kerzhentsev. Yes, he died. Yesterday. You, Alexey, better go, otherwise you are already beginning to hate me. I do not hold you. Savelov. Yes, I will go. You, Antosha, do not be angry, today I am angry and I throw myself at everyone like a dog. Don't be angry, my dear, she will tell you everything. Jaipur died here, and I, brother, buried the general today: I marched three streets. Kerzhentsev. What general? Tatiana Nikolaevna. He jokes, he followed the music. Savelov (stuffing a cigarette case with cigarettes). Jokes as a joke, but you still mess with the monkey a little less, Anton, - someday you will be serious. You are an experimenter, Antosha, a cruel experimenter!

Kerzhentsev doesn't answer.

Kerzhentsev. Are the children healthy, Tatyana Nikolaevna? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Thank God they are healthy. And what? Kerzhentsev. Scarlet fever walks, you need to be careful. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Oh my God! Savelov. Well, now she started! Goodbye, Antosha, don't be angry that I'm leaving ... Maybe I'll catch you again. I'll be soon, my dear. Tatiana Nikolaevna. I'll walk you a little, Alyosha, I have two words. I am now, Anton Ignatievich. Kerzhentsev. Please don't hesitate.

Savelov and his wife go out. Kerzhentsev walks around the room. He takes a heavy paperweight from Savelov's desk and weighs it on his hand: this is how Tatyana Nikolaevna finds him.

Tatiana Nikolaevna. Gone. What are you looking at, Anton Ignatievich? Kerzhentsev (quietly putting down the paperweight). A tough thing, you can kill a person if you hit him on the head. Where did Alexey go? Tatiana Nikolaevna. So, take a walk. He misses. Sit down, Anton Ignatievich, I am very glad that you finally dropped by. Kerzhentsev. Are you bored? How long has it been? Tatiana Nikolaevna. It happens to him. Suddenly he quits his job and starts looking for some real life. Now he has gone to wander the streets and will probably get involved in some story. I am sad, Anton Ignatievich, that, apparently, I am not giving him something, some necessary experiences, our life with him is too calm ... Kerzhentsev. And happy? Tatiana Nikolaevna. What is happiness? Kerzhentsev. Yes, nobody knows that. Do you really like the last story of Alexei? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Highly. And you? Kerzhentsev is silent. I find that his talent is growing every day. This does not mean that I speak like his wife, I am generally quite impartial. But this also finds criticism ... and you?

Kerzhentsev is silent.

(Excitedly.) Have you, Anton Ignatievich, read the book carefully or just leafed through it? Kerzhentsev. Very carefully. Tatiana Nikolaevna. So what?

Kerzhentsev is silent. Tatyana Nikolaevna looks at him and silently begins to clear the papers from the table.

Kerzhentsev. Do you not like that I am silent? Tatiana Nikolaevna. I don't like the other. Kerzhentsev. What? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Today you threw one very strange look at Alexey, at your husband. I don't like, Anton Ignatyevich, that in six years ... you could not forgive me or Alexei. You have always been so restrained that it never crossed my mind, but today ... However, let's leave this conversation, Anton Ignatich! Kerzhentsev (gets up and stands with his back to the stove. Looks down at Tatyana Nikolaevna). Why change, Tatyana Nikolaevna? It seems interesting to me. If today I have shown something for the first time in six years - although I do not know what - then today you also spoke about the past for the first time. It is interesting. Yes, six years ago, or rather, seven and a half - the weakening of my memory did not touch those years - I offered you my hand and heart, and you deigned to reject both. Do you remember that it was at the Nikolayevsky railway station and that the needle on the station clock showed exactly six at that minute: the disk was divided in half by one black line? Tatiana Nikolaevna. I don’t remember that. Kerzhentsev. No, that's right, Tatyana Nikolaevna. And remember that you still felt sorry for me then? You cannot forget this. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes, I remember that, but what could I have done differently? There was nothing insulting to you in my pity, Anton Ignatyevich. And I just cannot understand why we are saying this - what is this, the explanation? Fortunately, I am absolutely sure that you not only do not love me ... Kerzhentsev. This is careless, Tatyana Nikolaevna! What if I say that I still love you, that I will not marry, that I lead such a strange, closed life just because I love you? Tatiana Nikolaevna. You won't say that! Kerzhentsev. Yes, I will not say that. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Listen, Anton Ignatyevich: I love talking to you ... Kerzhentsev. Talk to me, but sleep with Alexei? Tatiana Nikolaevna (gets up, indignantly). No, what's wrong with you? This is rude! It's impossible! I do not understand. And maybe you are really sick? This psychosis of yours, which I heard about ... Kerzhentsev. Well, let's say. Let it be the same psychosis that you have heard about - if you cannot speak otherwise. But are you really afraid of words, Tatyana Nikolaevna? Tatiana Nikolaevna. I'm not afraid of anything, Anton Ignatyevich. (Sits down.) But I will have to tell everything to Alexei. Kerzhentsev. Are you sure that you will be able to tell and he will be able to understand something? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Alexei will not be able to understand? .. No, are you kidding, Anton Ignatyevich? Kerzhentsev. Well, you can admit that too. Alexey told you, of course, that I ... how can I put this to you ... a big hoaxer? I love joke experiments. Once upon a time, in the days of my youth, of course, I deliberately sought friendship from one of my comrades, and when he blurted out all, I left him with a smile. With a slight smile, however: I respect my loneliness too much to break it with laughter. And now I am joking, and while you are worried, I may be looking at you calmly and with a smile ... with a slight smile, however. Tatiana Nikolaevna. But do you understand, Anton Ignatyevich, that I cannot admit such an attitude towards myself? Bad jokes that nobody wants to laugh at. Kerzhentsev (laughs). Is it? And it seemed to me that I was already laughing. It’s you who are serious, Tatyana Nikolaevna, not me. Laugh! Tatiana Nikolaevna (laughs violently). But maybe this is also just an experience? Kerzhentsev (Seriously). You're right: I wanted to hear you laugh. The first thing that I fell in love with in you was your laughter. Tatiana Nikolaevna. I won't laugh anymore.

Silence.

Kerzhentsev (smiles). You are very unfair today, Tatyana Nikolaevna, yes: you give everything to Alexey, but you would like to take the last crumbs from me. Just because I love your laughter and find in it that beauty that others may not see, you no longer want to laugh! Tatiana Nikolaevna. All women are unfair. Kerzhentsev. Why is it so bad about women? And if I am joking today, then you are even more joking: you are pretending to be a little cowardly bourgeois woman who, with rage and ... despair, protects her little nest, her poultry house. Do I look so much like a kite? Tatiana Nikolaevna. It's hard to argue with you ... speak up. Kerzhentsev. But this is true, Tatyana Nikolaevna! You are smarter than your husband, and my friend, I am also smarter than him, and that is why you have always loved talking to me so much ... Your anger is still not without some pleasantness. Let me be in a strange mood. Today I have been delving too long into the brain of my Jaipur - he died of melancholy - and I have a strange, very strange and ... joking mood! Tatiana Nikolaevna. I noticed it, Anton Ignatievich. No, seriously, I sincerely feel sorry for your Jaipur: he had this ... (smiles) intelligent person. But what do you want? Kerzhentsev. Compose. Dream up. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Lord, what are we women, unhappy, eternal victims of your genius whims: Alexei ran away so as not to compose, and I had to come up with consolations for him, and you ... (Laughs.) Compose! Kerzhentsev. So you laughed. Tatiana Nikolaevna. God be with you. Write, but please, not about love! Kerzhentsev. There is no other way. My story begins with love. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Well, as you wish. Wait, I'll sit back. (Sits down on the sofa and straightens her skirt.) Now I am listening. Kerzhentsev. So, let's say, Tatyana Nikolaevna, that I, Doctor Kerzhentsev ... as an inexperienced writer, I will be in the first person, can I? .. - so, let's say that I love you - can I? - and that I became unbearably annoyed looking at you with the talented Alexei. Thanks to you, my life has fallen apart, and you are unbearably happy, you are gorgeous, the criticism itself approves of you, you are young and beautiful ... by the way, you are combing your hair very beautifully now, Tatyana Nikolaevna! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes? Alexei likes it so much. I'm listening to. Kerzhentsev. You listen? Perfectly. So ... you know what loneliness is with his thoughts? Let's say you know this. So, one day, sitting alone at his table ... Tatyana Nikolaevna. You have a splendid table, I dream of one for Alyosha. Excuse me ... Kerzhentsev. ... and getting more and more irritated - thinking about many things - I decided to commit a terrible villainy: come to your house, just come to your house and ... kill the talented Alexei! Tatiana Nikolaevna. What? What are you talking about! Shame on you! Kerzhentsev. These are words! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Unpleasant words! Kerzhentsev. You are scared? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Are you afraid again? No, I'm not afraid of anything, Anton Ignatyevich. But I demand, that is, I want ... the story to be within ... artistic truth. (Gets up and walks.) I am spoiled, my dear, with talented stories, and a tabloid affair with its terrible villains ... are you not angry? Kerzhentsev. First experience! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes, the first experience, and you can see it. How do you, your hero want to carry out his terrible plan? After all, of course, he is a smart villain who loves himself, and he does not want to change his ... comfortable life for hard labor and shackles? Kerzhentsev. Undoubtedly! And I ... that is, my hero pretends to be crazy for this purpose. Tatiana Nikolaevna. What? Kerzhentsev. You do not understand? He will kill, and then he will recover and return to his ... comfortable life. Well, how, dear critic? Tatiana Nikolaevna. How? Bad to the point that ... ashamed! He wants to kill, he pretends, and he tells - and to whom? Zhenya! Bad, unnatural, Anton Ignatich! Kerzhentsev. And what about the game? My fine critic, and what about the game? Or do you not see what mad treasures of mad game are hidden here: to tell the wife herself that I want to kill her husband, look into her eyes, smile quietly and say: but I want to kill your husband! And while saying that, knowing that she won't believe ... or will she? And that when she begins to tell others about it, no one will believe her either! Will she cry ... or won't she? - but they won't believe her! Tatiana Nikolaevna. What if they believe? Kerzhentsev. What are you: only crazy people tell such things ... and listen! But what a game - no, think seriously, what a mad, sharp, divine game! Of course, for a weak head it is dangerous, you can easily cross the line and never come back, but for a strong and free mind? Listen, why write stories when you can do them! A? Is not it? Why write? What scope for creative, fearless, truly creative thought! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Is your hero a doctor? Kerzhentsev. The hero is me. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Well, it doesn't matter, you. He can quietly poison or inoculate some kind of disease ... Why does he not want to? Kerzhentsev. But if I secretly poison, how will you know that I did it? Tatiana Nikolaevna. But why should I know this?

Kerzhentsev is silent.

(She stomps her foot lightly.) Why should I know this? What are you talking about!

Kerzhentsev is silent. Tatyana Nikolaevna walks away, rubs her temples with her fingers.

Kerzhentsev. Are you unwell? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes. No. The head is something ... What were we talking about now? How strange: what were we talking about now? How strange, I do not quite clearly remember what we just talked about. About what?

Kerzhentsev is silent.

Anton Ignatyevich! Kerzhentsev. What? Tatiana Nikolaevna. How did we come to this? Kerzhentsev. For what? Tatiana Nikolaevna. I do not know. Anton Ignatyevich, dear, dear, don't! I'm really a little scared. No need to joke! You are so cute when you talk to me seriously ... and you never joked like that! Why now? Have you stopped respecting me? Do not! And you don’t think that I’m so happy ... what is it! It’s very difficult for me and Alexei, it’s true. And he himself is not at all so happy, I know! Kerzhentsev. Tatyana Nikolaevna, today for the first time in six years we are talking about the past, and I don’t know ... You told Alexey that six years ago I offered you my hand and heart and you deigned to refuse both? Tatiana Nikolaevna (embarrassed). My dear, but how could I ... not tell when ... Kerzhentsev. And did he also feel sorry for me? Tatiana Nikolaevna. But do you really not believe in his nobility, Anton Ignatyevich? Kerzhentsev. I loved you very much, Tatyana Nikolaevna. Tatiana Nikolaevna (begging). Do not! Kerzhentsev. Good. Tatiana Nikolaevna. After all, you are strong! You have a great will, Anton Ignatyevich, if you want, you can do anything ... Well ... forgive us, forgive me! Kerzhentsev. Will? Yes. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Why do you look like that - you don't want to forgive? You can not? Oh my God, how ... awful! And who is to blame, and what kind of life it is, Lord! (Cries quietly.) And all you have to be afraid of, then children, then ... Excuse me!

Silence. Kerzhentsev looks at Tatyana Nikolaevna as if from a distance - suddenly enlightens, changes the mask.

Kerzhentsev. Tatyana Nikolaevna, my dear, stop it, what are you talking about! I was joking. Tatiana Nikolaevna (sighing and wiping away tears). You won't be anymore. Do not. Kerzhentsev. Oh sure! You see: my Jaipur died today ... and I ... well, I was upset or something. Look at me: you see, I am already smiling. Tatiana Nikolaevna (glancing and also smiling). What are you, Anton Ignatyich! Kerzhentsev. I’m an eccentric, well, an eccentric - you never know weirdos, and what kind! My dear, you and I are old friends, how much salt we ate, I love you, I love the dear, noble Alexei - let me always speak directly about his works ... Tatyana Nikolaevna. Of course, this is a moot point! Kerzhentsev. Well, that's fine. And your lovely kids? This is probably a feeling common to all stubborn bachelors, but I consider your children almost my own. Your Igor is my godson ... Tatyana Nikolaevna. You are dear, Anton Ignatyevich, you are dear! -- Who is this?

After knocking, the maid Sasha enters.

What do you want, Sasha, how you scared me, my God! Children? Sasha. No, the children are asleep. The master asks you for the phone, now they called, sir. Tatiana Nikolaevna. What? What about him? Sasha. Nothing, by God. They are hilarious, joking. Tatiana Nikolaevna. I'm sorry now, Anton Ignatyevich. (From the door, affectionately.) Cute!

Both come out. Kerzhentsev walks around the room - stern, preoccupied. He takes the paperweight again, examines its sharp corners and weighs it on his hand. When Tatyana Nikolaevna enters, she quickly puts him in his place and makes a pleasant face.

Anton Ignatyevich, let's go soon! Kerzhentsev. What's up dear? Tatiana Nikolaevna. There is nothing. Cute! Okay, I don’t know. Alexei calls from the restaurant, someone has gathered there, asking us to come. Funny. Let's go! I'm not going to change - let's go, dear. (Stops.) How obedient you are: he goes to himself and does not even ask where. Cute! Yes ... Anton Ignatyevich, when did you visit the psychiatrist? Kerzhentsev. Five or six days. I was at Semyonov's, my dear, he is my friend. Knowledgeable person. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Ah! .. This is very famous, it seems to be good. What did he tell you? Don't be offended, dear, but you know how I ... Kerzhentsev. What are you, dear! Semyonov said that trifles, overwork are trifles. We talked to him for a long time, good old man. And such sly eyes! Tatiana Nikolaevna. But is there overwork? My poor little one, - overtired. (Strokes his hand.) No need, dear, take a rest, get medical treatment ...

Kerzhentsev silently bends down and kisses her hand. She looks down at his head with fear.

Anton Ignatyevich! Will you argue with Alexey today?

A curtain

ACT TWO

PICTURE THREE

Savelov's office. Six o'clock in the evening, before dinner. There are three in the office: Savelov, his wife and a guest invited to dinner, the writer Fedorovich.

Tatyana Nikolaevna sits on the end of the sofa and looks imploringly at her husband; Fyodorovich leisurely walks up and down the room with his hands behind his back; Savelov sits in his place at the table and then leans back in his chair, then, lowering his head over the table, angrily chops and breaks a pencil and matches with a cutting knife.

Savelov. To hell, finally, Kerzhentsev! Understand both of you, and you understand this, Fedorovich, that I am tired of Kerzhentsev like a bitter radish! Well, let him be ill, well, let him be mad, and let him be dangerous - after all, I can't think only of Kerzhentsev. To hell! Listen, Fedorovich, were you at yesterday's lecture in the literary society? What interesting things did they say? Fedorovich. There is little interesting. So, more bickering and swearing, I left early. Savelov. Was I scolded? Fedorovich. Brother, they scolded you too. They scold everyone there. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Well, listen, Alyosha, listen, don't get annoyed: Alexander Nikolaevich just wants to warn you about Kerzhentsev ... No, no, wait, you can't be so stubborn. Well, if you do not believe me and think that I am exaggerating, then believe Alexander Nikolaevich, he is a stranger: Alexander Nikolaevich, tell me, did you yourself attend this dinner and saw everything yourself? Fedorovich. Myself. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Well, what then, speak! Fedorovich. Well, and there is no doubt that it was a fit of uniform rabies. It was enough to look at his eyes, at his face - a uniform frenzy! You can't make up foam on your lips. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Well? Fedorovich. Your Kerzhentsev never made the impression of a meek person at all, a kind of rotten idol on twisted legs, and then everyone felt creepy. There were ten of us at the table, so everyone scattered in all directions. Yes, brother, but Pyotr Petrovich was bursting: with his thickness, such a test! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Don't you believe, Alexey? Savelov. What do you command me to believe? These are strange people! Did he hit anyone? Fedorovich. No, he did not beat anyone, although he attempted to kill Pyotr Petrovich ... But he broke the dishes, that's right, and he broke the flowers, the palm tree. Yes that - of course, dangerous, who can vouch for this? We are indecisive people, we are trying everything on delicacy, but positively we should inform the police, let him stay in the hospital until he leaves. Tatiana Nikolaevna. It is necessary to inform, so it cannot be left. God knows what! Everyone is watching, and no one ... Savelov. Leave it, Tanya! You just had to tie it up, and nothing else, and a bucket of cold water on your head. If you want, I believe in Kerzhentsev’s madness, why, anything can happen, but I definitely don’t understand your fears. Why exactly would he want to do any harm to me? Nonsense! Tatiana Nikolaevna. But I told you, Alyosha, what he told me that evening. He scared me so much that I was not myself. I almost cried! Savelov. Sorry, Tanechka: you really told me, but I didn't understand anything, my dear, from your story. Some kind of absurd chatter on too sensitive topics, which, of course, should have been avoided ... You know, Fedorovich, after all, he once wooed Tatyana? Why, love too! .. Tatyana Nikolaevna. Alyosha! Savelov. He can, he is his own man. Well, you know, something like a love burp - eh, just a whim! Whim! Kerzhentsev never loved anyone and cannot love anyone. I know it. Enough about him, gentlemen. Fedorovich. Good. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Well, Alyosha, darling, what is it worth doing - for me! Well, I may be stupid, but I'm terribly worried. No need to accept him, that's all, you can write an affectionate letter to him. After all, you can't let such a dangerous person into the house - isn't that so, Alexander Nikolaevich? Fedorovich. Right! Savelov. No! I'm even embarrassed to listen to you, Tanya. Indeed, only this is not enough so that because of some whim ... well, not a whim, I apologize, I didn’t put it that way, well, in general, because of some fears, I would refuse a person from home. There was no need to chat about such topics, but now there is nothing. A dangerous man ... that's enough, Tanya! Tatiana Nikolaevna (sighing). Good. Savelov. And here's another thing, Tatyana: don't you dare write to him without my knowledge, I know you. Have you guessed? Tatiana Nikolaevna (dry). You guessed nothing, Alexey. Let's leave it better. When are you to Crimea, Alexander Nikolaevich? Fedorovich. Yes, I think to move on that week. It's hard for me to get out. Savelov. No money, Fedorchuk? Fedorovich. Well no. I'm waiting for the advance, they promised. Savelov. No one, brother, has any money. Fedorovich (stops in front of Savelov). And you would have gone with me, Alexey! All the same, after all, you are not doing anything, and there we would have been a great bargaining chip, eh? You are spoiled, your wife spoils you, and there we would have moved on foot: road, brother, white, sea, brother, blue, almonds are in bloom ... Savelov. I don't like Crimea. Tatiana Nikolaevna. He absolutely cannot stand the Crimea. But if it were so, Alyosha: I would stay with the children in Yalta, and you and Alexander Nikolaevich go to the Caucasus. You love the Caucasus. Savelov. Why would I go anyway? I'm not going anywhere at all, I've got work to do here! Fedorovich. Good for children. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Of course! Savelov (irritated). Well, go with the kids if you want. After all, this, by God, is impossible! Well, go with the kids, and I'll stay here. Crimea ... Fedorovich, do you like cypresses? And I hate them. They stand like exclamation marks, so that the devil take them, but there is no sense ... like a manuscript of a lady writer about some "mysterious" Boris! Fedorovich. No, brother, ladies-writers love ellipses more ...

The maid enters.

Sasha. Anton Ignatievich came and asked, can I see you?

Some silence.

Tatiana Nikolaevna. Well, Alyosha! Savelov. Of course, ask! Sasha, ask Anton Ignatyich here, tell him that we are in the office. Give me some tea.

The maid exits. There is silence in the study. Kerzhentsev enters with a large paper parcel in his hands. The face is dark. Greets.

Ah, Antosha! Hello. What are you talking about? They tell me everything. Get some medical treatment, brother, you need to get serious medical treatment, so this cannot be left. Kerzhentsev (quiet). Yes, I seem to be a little ill. Tomorrow I am thinking of going to the sanatorium and resting. We need to rest. Savelov. Rest, rest, of course. You see, Tanya, a man knows without you what he needs to do. Here, brother, these two people killed you ... Tatyana Nikolaevna (reproachfully). Alyosha! Would you like some tea, Anton Ignatyevich? Kerzhentsev. With pleasure, Tatyana Nikolaevna. Savelov. Why are you so quiet. you say Anton? (Grunts.)"Alyosha, Alyosha ..." I do not know how to keep silent ... Sit down, Anton, why are you standing? Kerzhentsev. Here, Tatyana Nikolaevna, take it, please. 486 Tatiana Nikolaevna (accepts the package). What is it? Kerzhentsev. Igor toys. I promised a long time ago, but somehow there was no time, but today I finished all my business in the city and now, fortunately, I remembered. I'll say goodbye to you. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Thank you, Anton Ignatyevich, Igor will be very happy. I'll call him here, let him get it from you. Savelov. No, Tanechka, I don't want noise. Igor will come, then Tanka will drag along, and this is where the Persian revolution will begin: either they put them on a stake, or they shout "hurray"! .. What? Horse? Kerzhentsev. Yes. I came to the store and was confused, I just can't guess what he would like. Fedorovich. My Petka now requires a car, does not want a horse.

Tatyana Nikolaevna calls.

Savelov. Of course! They also grow. Soon they will get to the airplanes ... What do you want, Sasha? Sasha. They called me. Tatiana Nikolaevna. It's me, Alyosha. Here, Sasha, please take it to the nursery and give it to Igor, tell him, his uncle brought it to him. Savelov. Why won't you, Tanya, go? Better take it yourself. Tatiana Nikolaevna. I don't want to, Alyosha. Savelov. Tanya!

Tatyana Nikolaevna takes the toy and goes out in silence. Fyodorovich whistles and looks at the already seen pictures on the walls.

Ridiculous woman! She's the one who's afraid of you, Anton! Kerzhentsev (surprised). Me? Savelov. Yes. The woman imagined something, and now she, too, like you, is going crazy. Considers you a dangerous person. Fedorovich (interrupting). Whose card is this, Alexey? Savelov. Actresses one. What did you say to her here, Antosha? In vain, my dear, you touch upon such topics. I am convinced that it was a joke for you, and my Tanya is bad about jokes, you know her as well as I do. Fedorovich (again). Who is this actress? Savelov. You don't know her! So, Anton, it shouldn't be. You are smiling? Or serious?

Kerzhentsev is silent. Fyodorovich looks at him askance. Savelov frowns.

Well, of course, jokes. And all the same, stop joking, Anton! I know you from the gymnasium, and there was always something unpleasant in your jokes. When they joke, brother, they smile, and you are just trying to make such a face at this time, so that the veins begin to shake. Experimenter! Well, what, Tanya? Tatiana Nikolaevna (included). Of course I'm glad. What are you so hot about here? Savelov (walks around the office, throws on the move dismissively and rather abruptly). About jokes. I advised Anton not to joke, as not all of his jokes seem to be equally ... successful. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes? And what about tea, dear Anton Ignatyevich - they haven't served you yet! (Calls.) Sorry, I didn't notice! Kerzhentsev. I would ask for a glass of white wine if it doesn't disturb your order. Savelov. Well, what kind of order we have! .. (To the maid who entered.) Sasha, give me wine and two glasses: will you be wine, Fedorovich? Fedorovich. I'll drink a glass, won't you? Savelov. Do not want. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Give white wine, Sasha, and two glasses.

The maid leaves, soon returns with wine. An awkward silence. Savelov restrains himself so as not to show hostility to Kerzhentsev, but every minute it becomes more difficult.

Savelov. What sanatorium do you want, Anton? Kerzhentsev. Semenov advised me. There is a wonderful place along the Finland road, I have already signed up. There are few sick people, or rather, there are few vacationers - the forest and the silence. Savelov. Ah! .. Forest and silence. Why don't you drink wine? Drink. Fedorovich, pour. (Mockingly.) And what did you need the forest and silence for? Tatiana Nikolaevna. For relaxation, of course, what are you asking, Alyosha? Is it true, Alexander Nikolaevich, that our Alyosha is some kind of stupid today? Are you not angry with me, famous writer? Savelov. Don't talk, Tanya, it's unpleasant. Yes, of course, for relaxation ... Here, Fedorovich, pay attention to a person: he is completely alien to the simple sense of nature, the ability to enjoy the sun and water. Really, Anton?

Kerzhentsev is silent.

(Irritated.) No, and at the same time he thinks that he has gone ahead - do you understand, Fedorovich? And you and I, who can still enjoy the sun and water, seem to him to be something atavistic, murderously backward. Anton, don't you find that Fedorovich is very similar to your late orangutan? Fedorovich. Well, this is partly true, Alexey. That is, not that I look like ... Savelov. Not true, but just absurdity, a kind of limitation ... What do you want, Tanya? What are these signs yet? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Nothing. Would you like some wine? Listen, Anton Ignatyevich, today we are going to the theater, would you like to join us? We have a box. Kerzhentsev. With pleasure, Tatyana Nikolaevna, although I don't particularly like theater. But today I will go with pleasure. Savelov. Don't you love? Weird! Why don't you love him? This is something new in you, Anton, you continue to develop. You know, Fedorovich, once Kerzhentsev wanted to become an actor himself - and, in my opinion, he would be a wonderful actor! It has such properties ... and in general ... Kerzhentsev. My personal qualities have nothing to do with it, Alexey. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Of course! Kerzhentsev. I don’t like theater because it’s poorly represented. For a real game, which, after all, is only a complex system of pretense, the theater is too small. Isn't that so, Alexander Nikolaevich? Fedorovich. I don't quite understand you, Anton Ignatyevich. Savelov. What is a real game? Kerzhentsev. True artistic play can only be in life. Savelov. And that's why you didn't become an actor, but remained a doctor. Do you understand, Fedorovich? Fedorovich. You find fault, Alexey! As far as I understand ... Tatyana Nikolaevna. Well, of course, he's shamelessly nagging. Throw him in, dear Anton Ignatich, let's go to the nursery. Igor certainly wants to kiss you ... kiss him, Anton Ignatich! Kerzhentsev. The childish noise is a little heavy for me now, excuse me, Tatyana Nikolaevna. Savelov. Of course, let him sit for himself. Sit down, Anton. Kerzhentsev. And I am not at all ... offended by Alexei's fervor. He was always hot, even in high school. Savelov. Completely excessive indulgence. And I'm not in the least excited ... Why don't you drink wine, Anton? Drink, the wine is good ... But I was always surprised by your isolation from life. Life flows past you, and you sit as in a fortress, you are proud in your mysterious solitude, like a baron! Time has passed for the barons, brother, their fortresses are destroyed. Fedorovich, do you know that our baron's only ally, the orangutan, has recently died? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Alyosha, again! It's impossible! Kerzhentsev. Yes, I am sitting in the fortress. Yes. In the fortress! Savelov (sitting down.) Yes? Tell me please! Listen, Fedorovich, this is the Baron's confession! Kerzhentsev. Yes. And my fortress is this: my head. Don't laugh, Alexey, you, it seems to me, have not yet fully grown to this idea ... Savelov. Not mature enough? .. Kerzhentsev. Sorry, I didn't put it that way. But only here, in my head, behind these cranial walls, I can be completely free. And I'm free! Lonely and free! Yes!

He gets up and begins to walk along the line of the office along which Savelov had just walked.

Savelov. Fedorovich, give me your glass. Thanks. What is your freedom, my lonely friend? Kerzhentsev. And in that ... And in that, my friend, that I stand above the life in which you fumble and crawl! And the point, my friend, is that instead of the pitiful passions to which you submit as slaves, I have chosen the royal human thought as my friend! Yes, Baron! Yes, I am unapproachable in my castle - and there is no force that would not crash against these walls! Savelov. Yes, your forehead is great, but aren't you relying too much on it? Your overwork ... Tatyana Nikolaevna. Gentlemen, leave the hunt for you! Alyosha! Kerzhentsev (laughs). My overwork? No, I am not afraid ... my overwork. My thought is obedient to me, like a sword, the edge of which directs my will. Or do you, blind man, do not see its brilliance? Or you, blind man, do not know this delight: to conclude here, in your head, the whole world, to dispose of it, to reign, to flood everything with the light of divine thought! What do I care about the cars that rumble out there somewhere? Here, in great and strict silence, my thought works - and its power is equal to the power of all machines in the world! You often laughed at my love for the book, Alexey, - do you know that someday a person will become a deity, and we will be a book for him! Thought! Savelov. No, I don’t know that. And your fetishism of the book seems to me just ... ridiculous and ... unwise. Yes! There is still life!

He also gets up and walks excitedly, at times almost colliding with Kerzhentsev; there is a terrible thing about their excitement, how for a moment they stop face to face. Tatyana Nikolaevna whispers something to Fyodorovich, who shrugs his shoulders helplessly and reassuringly.

Kerzhentsev. Is that what you say, writer? Savelov. And this is what I, the writer, say. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Gentlemen! Kerzhentsev. You are a pitiful writer, Savelov. Savelov. May be. Kerzhentsev. You have published five books - how dare you do it, if you say that about a book? This is blasphemy! You dare not write, you must not! Savelov. Will you forbid me?

Both stop for a moment at the desk. To the side, Tatyana Nikolaevna anxiously tugs at Fedorovich's sleeve, who whispers to her reassuringly: "Nothing! Nothing!"

Kerzhentsev. Alexey! Savelov. What? Kerzhentsev. You're worse than my orangutan! He managed to die of melancholy! Savelov. Did he die himself or did you kill him? An experience?

They walk again, colliding. Kerzhentsev is laughing loudly at something. His eyes are terrible.

Are you laughing? Do you despise? Kerzhentsev (gestures strongly, speaks as if with someone else). He doesn't believe in thought! He dares not to believe in the idea! He does not know that thought can do everything! He does not know that thought can drill a stone, burn houses, that thought can ... '' Alexey! Savelov. Your overwork! .. Yes, to a sanatorium, to a sanatorium! Kerzhentsev. Alexey! Savelov. What?

Both stop near the table, Kerzhentsev facing the viewer. His eyes are terrible, he inspires. He put his hand on the paperweight. Tatyana Nikolaevna and Fedorovich in tetanus.

Kerzhentsev. Look at me. Do you see my thought? Savelov. You need to go to the sanatorium. I look. Kerzhentsev. Look! I can kill you. Savelov. No. You're crazy!!! Kerzhentsev. Yes, I'm crazy. I'll kill you with this! (Slowly raises the paperweight.) (Suggestions.) Put your hand down!

Just as slowly, without taking his eyes off Kerzhentsev's eyes, Savelov raises his hand to protect his head. Savelov's hand slowly, in jerks, unevenly descends, and Kerzhentsev hits him on the head. Savelov falls. Kerzhentsev, with a raised paperweight, leans over him. Desperate cry of Tatyana Ivanovna and Fedorovich.

A curtain

PICTURE FOUR

Cabinet-library Kerzhentsev. Near the tables, writing and library, with books piled on them, Darya Vasilievna, the housekeeper of Kerzhentseva, an old, pretty woman, is slowly doing something. Sings softly. He straightens books, brushes off the dust, looks into the inkwell to see if there is ink. There is a bell in the front. Daria Vasilievna turns her head, hears Kerzhentsev's loud voice in the hall and calmly continues her work.

Daria Vasilievna (sings softly)."My mother loved me, she adored that I was a beloved daughter, and my daughter ran away with her sweetheart into a deep rainy night ...> What do you want, Vasya? Anton Ignatyich has arrived? Vasily. Daria Vasilievna! Daria Vasilievna. Well?" dense ... "Come on now, Vasya. Well, what are you? Vasily. Daria Vasilievna! Anton Ignatyevich is asked to give them clean linen, a shirt, he is in the bathroom. Daria Vasilievna (surprised). What's this? What other linen? It is necessary to dine, not linen, the seventh hour. Basil. It's a bad thing, Daria Vasilievna, I'm afraid. He has blood all over his clothes, on his jacket and trousers. Daria Vasilievna. Well, what are you! Where? Basil. How do I know? I'm afraid. I began to take off my fur coat, so even in the fur coat there was blood on the sleeves, I got my hands dirty. Fresh at all. Now he washes in the bathroom and asks to change. He won't let me in, he speaks through the door. Daria Vasilievna. This is weird! Well, let's go, now I'll give it to you. HM! Operation, maybe some, but for the operation he puts on a robe. HM! Basil. Rather, Daria Vasilievna! Hear, calling. I'm afraid. Daria Vasilievna. Oh well. How timid. Come on. (They go out.)

The room is empty for a while. Then Kerzhentsev enters and behind him, apparently frightened, Darya Vasilievna. Kerzhentsev speaks in a raised, loud voice, laughs loudly, is dressed at home, without a starched collar.

Kerzhentsev. I won't dine, Dasha, you can clean up. I don't feel like it. Daria Vasilievna. How is it, Anton Ignatyevich? Kerzhentsev. And so. Why are you scared, Dasha? Did Vasily say anything to you? You want to listen to this fool. (He walks quickly to the corner, where there is still an empty cage.) Where is our Jaipur? There is not. Our Jaipur, Daria Vasilievna, has died. Died! What are you, Dasha, what are you? Daria Vasilievna. Why did you lock the bathroom and take the keys to you, Anton Ignatyevich? Kerzhentsev. And so as not to upset you, Daria Vasilievna, so as not to upset you! (Laughs.) I'm kidding. You will soon find out, Dasha. Daria Vasilievna. What do I find out? Where have you been, Anton Ignatyevich? Kerzhentsev. Where have you been? I was in the theater, Dasha. Daria Vasilievna. What is the theater now? Kerzhentsev. Yes. Now there is no theater. But I played myself, Dasha, I played myself. And I played great, I played great! It is a pity that you cannot appreciate, that you cannot appreciate, I would tell you about one amazing thing, an amazing thing - a talented trick! A talented welcome! You just have to look in the eyes, you just have to look in the eyes and ... But you don't understand anything, Dasha. Kiss me, Dasha. Daria Vasilievna (pulling away). No. Kerzhentsev. Kiss. Daria Vasilievna. I do not want. I'm afraid. You have eyes ... Kerzhentsev (stern and angry). What are the eyes? Go on. Enough nonsense! But you are silly, Dasha, and I will kiss you all the same. (Kisses violently.) It's a pity, Dasha, that the night is not ours, that the night ... (Laughs.) Well, go. And tell Vasily that in an hour or two I will have such guests, such guests in uniforms. Do not be afraid. And tell me to give me a bottle of white wine here. So. Everything. Go.

The housekeeper exits. Kerzhentsev, stepping very firmly, walks around the room, walks. Thinks he looks very light-hearted and cheerful. He takes one book, another, looks and puts it back. He looks almost scary, but he thinks he is calm. Walks. He notices an empty cage and laughs.

Ah, it's you, Jaipur! Why do I keep forgetting that you died? Jaipur, have you died of longing? Silly melancholy, you should have lived and looked at me as I looked at you! Jaipur, do you know what I did today? (He walks around the room, speaking, gesturing strongly.) Died. He took it and died. Stupid! Doesn't see my triumph. Does not know. Does not see. Stupid! But I'm a little tired - I shouldn't get tired! Put your hand down - I said. And he dropped it. Jaipur! Monkey - he lowered his hand! (Goes to the cage, laughs.) Could you do it, monkey? Stupid! He died like a fool - from melancholy. Stupid! (Sings loudly.)

Vasily brings in wine and a glass, goes on tiptoe.

Who is this? A? It's you. Put it on. Go.

Vasily also shyly comes out on tiptoe. Kerzhentsev throws the book, sweepingly and quickly drinks a glass of wine and, having made several circles around the room, takes the book and lies down on the sofa. He lights up a light bulb on the table at the head - his face is brightly lit, as if by a reflector. Tries to read, but cannot, throws the book on the floor.

No, I don’t want to read. (Throws his hands under his head and closes his eyes.) So glad. Pleasantly. Pleasantly. Tired. Sleepy; sleep. (Silence, immobility. Suddenly laughs, without opening his eyes, as in a dream. Slightly raises and lowers his right hand.) Yes!

Again, quiet and prolonged laughter with closed eyes. Silence. Immobility. A brightly lit face becomes sterner, more severe. A clock strikes somewhere. Suddenly, with his eyes still closed, Kerzhentsev slowly gets up and sits down on the sofa. Silent, as if in a dream. And he says slowly, dividing the words, loud and strangely empty, as if in someone else's voice, swaying slightly and evenly.

And it is quite possible - that - Dr. Kerzhentsev is really crazy. '' He thought, `` that he was pretending, but he really is crazy. And now he's crazy. (Another moment of immobility. He opens his eyes and looks with horror.) Who said that? (He is silent and looks with horror.) Who? (Whispers.) Who said? Who? Who? Oh my goodness! (Jumps up and, full of horror, rushes about the room.) No! No! (He stops and, stretching out his hands, as if holding the whirling things in place, everything falling, almost screams.) No! No! This is not true, I know. Stop! All stop! (Rushing around again.) Wait, wait! Wait! Don't drive yourself crazy. Don't, don't - drive yourself - crazy. Like this? (He stops and, closing his eyes tightly, pronounces separately, deliberately making the voice a stranger and cunning.) He thought he was pretending, that he was pretending, and he was really crazy. (He opens his eyes and, slowly raising both hands, takes his hair.) So. It happened. What I was waiting for happened. It's over. (Again silently and convulsively rushes about. He begins to tremble with a large, ever-increasing tremor. Mumbles. Suddenly swoops into the mirror, sees himself-- and screams slightly in horror.) Mirror! (Again cautiously, sneaking up to the mirror from the side, peeking in. Mumbles. He wants to straighten his hair, but does not understand how to do it. The movements are ridiculous, discoordinated.) Aha! Well, well, well. (He laughs slyly.) You thought you were pretending and you were crazy, ooh-hoo-hoo! What, cleverly? Aha! You are small, you are evil, you are stupid, you are Doctor Kerzhentsev. Some kind of doctor Kerzhentsev, some crazy doctor Kerzhentsev, some kind of doctor Kerzhentsev! .. (Mumbles. Laughs. Suddenly, continuing to look at himself, slowly and seriously begins to tear his clothes. Torn fabric crackles.)

A curtain

ACTION THREE

PICTURE FIVE

Hospital for the insane, where the suspect Kerzhentsev was placed on trial. On the stage there is a corridor, into which the doors of individual cells open; the corridor expands into a small hall, or niche. There is a small writing desk for a doctor, two chairs; it can be seen that the hospital employees like to gather here to talk. The walls are white with a wide blue panel; electricity is on. Light, cozy. Opposite the niche is the door to Kerzhentsev's cell. There is restless movement in the corridor: Kerzhentsev has just had a violent seizure. A doctor in a white robe, who is called Ivan Petrovich, nurse Masha, attendants enter and exit the cell occupied by the patient. They bring in medicine, ice.

In a niche, two nurses are chatting softly. A second doctor, Doctor Pryamoy, comes out of the corridor, still a young man, short-sighted and very modest. As he approaches, the nurses fall silent and assume respectful postures. Bow down.

Straight. Good evening. Vasilyeva, what is it? A seizure? Vasilyeva. Yes, Sergei Sergeich, a seizure. Straight. Whose room is this? (She looks at the door.) Vasilyeva. Kerzhentsev, the very same Sergei Sergeich. The killers. Straight. Oh yes. So what's up with him? Is Ivan Petrovich there? Vasilyeva. There. Now nothing, calmed down. Here Masha is coming, you can ask her. I just came.

Nurse Masha, still a young woman with a pleasant, gentle face, wants to enter the cell; the doctor calls out to her.

Straight. Listen, Masha, how is it? Masha. Hello, Sergei Sergeich. Now nothing, verse. I'm bringing the medicine. Straight. A! Well, carry it, carry it.

Masha enters, carefully opening and closing the door.

Does the professor know? Did they tell him? Vasilyeva. Yes, they did. They themselves wanted to come, but now nothing, left. Straight. A!

The attendant leaves the cell and soon comes back. Everyone follows him with their eyes.

Vasilieva (laughs quietly). What, Sergei Sergeich, aren't you used to it yet? Straight. A? Well, well, I'll get used to it. Was he on a rampage or so? Vasilyeva. Do not know. Nurse. Rampant. Three of them coped with violence, so he fought. Such is he Mamai!

Both nurses laugh softly.

Straight (strictly). Oh well! There is no need to bite your teeth here.

Doctor Ivan Petrovich comes out of Kerzhentsev's cell, he has slightly crooked knees, walks waddling.

Ah, Ivan Petrovich, hello. How are you there? Ivan Petrovich. Nothing, nothing, fine. Give me a cigarette. What, on duty today? Straight. Yes, on duty. Yes, I heard that you have something here, I went to look. Did you want to come yourself? Ivan Petrovich. I wanted to, but now there is no need. It seems that he is falling asleep, I gave him such a dose ... That's right, my dear, that's right, Sergei Sergeich, that's right, darling. The strong Mr. Kerzhentsev is a man, although more could have been expected from his exploits. Do you know his feat? Straight. Well, of course. And why, Ivan Petrovich, did you not send him to isolation? Ivan Petrovich. That's how it was. Itself goes! Evgeny Ivanovich!

Both doctors drop their cigarettes and assume a respectful, expectant attitude. Accompanied by another doctor, Professor Semyonov, an imposing, large old man with black-gray hair and a beard, approaches; in general, he is very shabby and somewhat resembles a yard dog. He is usually dressed, without a hoodie. Say hello. Nurses step aside.

Semenov. Hello Hello. Has a colleague calmed down? Ivan Petrovich. Yes, Evgeny Ivanovich, he calmed down. Falls asleep. I just wanted to go and report to you. Semenov. Nothing, nothing. Calmed down - and thank God. And what is the reason - or so, from the weather? Ivan Petrovich. That is, partly from the weather, and partly complaining that he is restless, cannot sleep, the madmen are screaming. Yesterday with Kornilov I had another seizure; at midnight it howled over the whole body. Semenov. Well, I am tired of this Kornilov myself. Kerzhentsev wrote again, or what? Ivan Petrovich. Writes! We ought to take these writings from him, Evgeny Ivanovich, it seems to me that this is also one of the reasons ... Semyonov. Well, well, take it away! Let him write to himself. He writes interestingly, then read it, I read it. Have you put on your shirt? Ivan Petrovich. I had to. Semenov. As soon as he falls asleep, take it off quietly, otherwise it will be unpleasant, as he wakes up in a shirt. He won't remember anything. Let him write to himself, don't bother him, give him more paper. Doesn't she complain about hallucinations? Ivan Petrovich. Not yet. Semenov. Well, thank God. Let him write, he has something to talk about. Give him more feathers, give him a box, he breaks feathers when he writes. Everything emphasizes, everything emphasizes! Scolds you? Ivan Petrovich. Happens. Semenov. Well, well, he reviles me too, writes: and if you, Evgeny Ivanovich, are dressed in a dressing gown, then who will be crazy: you or me?

Everyone laughs quietly.

Ivan Petrovich. Yes. Unhappy person. That is, he does not inspire any sympathy for me, but ...

Nurse Masha comes out of the door, carefully covering her behind her. They look at her.

Masha. Hello, Evgeny Ivanovich. Semenov. Hello Masha. Masha. Ivan Petrovich, Anton Ignatyevich asks you, woke up. Ivan Petrovich. Now. Perhaps you will, Evgeny Ivanovich? Semenov. There is nothing to disturb him. Go on.

Ivan Petrovich follows the nurse into the cell. Everyone stares at the locked door for a while. It's quiet there.

An excellent woman, this Masha, is my favorite. Third doctor. It never closes the doors. Leave her to dispose of, so not a single patient will remain, they will scatter. I wanted to complain to you, Evgeny Ivanovich. Semenov. Well, well, complain! Others will lock up, but they will run away, so we will catch them. An excellent woman, Sergei Sergeevich, you take a closer look at her, this is new to you. I don't know what it has, but it has a wonderful effect on the sick, and it makes healthy people healthy! A kind of innate talent for health, mental ozone. (Sits down and takes out a cigarette. The assistants are standing.) Why don't you smoke, gentlemen? Straight. I have just... (Lights up.) Semyonov. I would marry her, so much I like her; let him heat the stove with my books, she can do that too. Third doctor. She can do that. Straight (smiling respectfully). Well, you are single, Evgeny Ivanovich, get married. Semenov. It won't, not a single woman will go for me, I am like an old dog, they say, I look like.

They laugh quietly.

Straight. And what is your opinion, professor, that interests me very much: is Dr. Kerzhentsev really abnormal, or is he just a simulator, as he now assures me? As an admirer of Savelov, this incident at one time excited me extremely, and your authoritative opinion, Evgeny Ivanovich ... Semyonov (shaking his head towards the camera). Have you seen? Straight. Yes, but this seizure doesn't prove anything yet. There are cases ... Semyonov. And it does not prove, and it proves. What should I say? I have known this Kerzhentsev Anton Ignatievich for five years, I know personally, and he was always a strange person ... Direct. But isn't it crazy yet? Semyonov. This is not madness, they also say about me that I am strange; and who is not strange?

Ivan Petrovich comes out of the cell, they are looking at him.

Ivan Petrovich (smiling). He asks to take off his shirt, promises that he won't. Semenov. No, it's too early. He was with me - we are talking about your Kerzhentsev - and just before the almost murder, he consulted about his health; seems to be cunning. And what can I tell you? In my opinion, he really needs hard labor, a good hard labor for fifteen years. Let it ventilate, breathe oxygen! Ivan Petrovich (laughs). Yes, oxygen. Third doctor. Not to his monastery! Semenov. He must be admitted to a monastery not to a monastery, but to people, he himself asks for hard labor. So I put my opinion. I set up traps, but he himself sits in them; perhaps, and outright crazy. And it will be a pity for the person. Straight (thoughtful). And this terrible thing is the head. It is worth a little swaying and ... So sometimes you will think to yourself: who am I myself, if I take a good look? A? Semenov (gets up and pats Straight on the shoulder affectionately). Well, well, young man! Not so scary! Whoever thinks to himself that he is crazy is still healthy, but if he gets off, then he will stop thinking. It's just like death: scary as long as you live. Here we are, who are older, must have gone mad a long time ago, we are not afraid of anything. Look at Ivan Petrovich!

Ivan Petrovich laughs.

Straight (smiles). It's still restless, Evgeny Ivanovich. Flimsy mechanics.

From a distance, a vague, unpleasant sound is heard, similar to whining. One of the nurses leaves quickly.

What is it? Ivan Petrovich (to the third doctor). Again, probably your Kornilov, so that he was empty. He tortured everyone. Third doctor. I have to go. Goodbye, Evgeny Ivanovich. Semenov. I myself will go to him and take a look. Third doctor. Yes, it's bad, it can hardly stand it for a week. It is burning! So I'll be waiting for you, Evgeny Ivanovich. (Leaves.) Straight. And what does Kerzhentsev write, Evgeny Ivanovich? I'm not out of curiosity ... Semyonov. And he writes well, nimbly: he may be there, and he may be here - he writes well! And when he proves that he is healthy, you see a madman in optima forma (At its best (lat.).), but will begin to prove that he is a madman - at least put lectures to young doctors in the department, so healthy. Oh, gentlemen, you are my young, it is not that he writes, but that - I am a man! Human!

Masha enters.

Masha. Ivan Petrovich, the patient has fallen asleep, can the servants be released? Semenov. Let go, Masha, let go, just don’t go away yourself. Does he offend you? Masha. No, Evgeny Ivanovich, he does not offend. (Leaves.)

Soon two stalwart attendants come out of the cell, trying to walk quietly, but they cannot, they knock. Kornilov shouts more audibly.

Semenov. So that. And it's a pity that I look like a dog, I would marry Masha; and I lost my qualification long ago. (Laughs.) However, as our nightingale floods, we must go! Ivan Petrovich, come on, you will tell me more about Kerzhentsev. Goodbye, Sergei Sergeevich. Straight. Goodbye, Evgeny Ivanovich.

Semyonov and Ivan Petrovich walk slowly down the corridor. Ivan Petrovich tells. Doctor Straight stands with his head down, thinking. Absentmindedly looking for a pocket under a white robe, takes out a cigarette case, a cigarette, but does not light it - I forgot.

A curtain

PICTURE SIX

The camera where Kerzhentsev is. The furnishings are official, the only large window is behind bars; the door is locked with a key at every entrance and exit, the hospital nurse Masha does not always do this, although she is obliged to. There are quite a few books that he has ordered from home, but does not read, Dr. Kerzhentsev. Chess, which he often plays, playing complex, multi-day games with himself. Kerzhentsev in a hospital gown. During his stay in the hospital, he lost weight, his hair has grown back a lot, but it is fine; from insomnia, Kerzhentsev's eyes have a somewhat excited look. He is currently writing his explanation to expert psychiatrists. It's dusk, it's already dark in the cell, but the last bluish light falls on Kerzhentsev from the window. It becomes difficult to write in the dark. Kerzhentsev gets up and turns the switch: first the top light on the ceiling flashes, then the one on the table under the green lampshade. He writes again, with concentration and sullenness, counting the sheets covered with writing in a whisper. Nurse Masha enters quietly. Her white dress coat is very clean, and she, with her precise and silent movements, gives the impression of cleanliness, order, gentle and calm kindness. She makes the bed, does something quietly.

Kerzhentsev (without turning around). Masha! Masha. What, Anton Ignatyevich? Kerzhentsev. Chloralamide released at the pharmacy? Masha. They let me go, I'll bring it in now when I go for tea. Kerzhentsev (stops writing, turns around). According to my prescription? Masha. In your. Ivan Petrovich looked, said nothing, signed. His head just shook. Kerzhentsev. Did you shake your head? What does this mean: a lot, in his opinion, the dose is large? Ignoramus! Masha-. Don't swear, Anton Ignatich, don't, dear. Kerzhentsev. And you told him how insomnia I have, that I haven't slept properly a single night? Masha. Said. He knows. Kerzhentsev. Ignorant! Ignoramuses! Jailers! They put a person in such conditions that a completely healthy person can go crazy, and they call this a test, a scientific test! (He walks around the cell.) Donkeys! Masha, this night that Kornilov of yours was yelling again. A seizure? Masha. Yes, the seizure, very strong, Anton Ignatyevich, forcibly calmed down. Kerzhentsev. Unbearable! Did you wear a shirt? Masha. Yes. Kerzhentsev. Unbearable! He howls for hours on end, and no one can stop him! It's terrible, Masha, when a person stops talking and howls: the human larynx, Masha, is not adapted to howling, and that is why these half-beast sounds and screams are so terrible. I want to get on all fours myself and howl. Masha, when you hear this, don't you want to howl yourself? Masha. No, darling, what are you! I'm healthy. Kerzhentsev. Healthy! Yes. You are a very strange person, Masha ... Where are you going? Masha. I'm nowhere, I'm here. Kerzhentsev. Stay with me. You are a very strange person, Masha. For two months now I have been looking closely at you, studying you and in no way can I understand where you got this devilish firmness, steadfastness of spirit. Yes. You know something, Masha, but what? Among the madmen, howling, crawling, in these cages, where every particle of air is infected with madness, you walk as calmly as if it were ... a meadow with flowers! Understand, Masha, that this is more dangerous than living in a cage with tigers and lions, with poisonous snakes! Masha. Nobody will touch me. I've been here for five years, and no one even hit me, didn't even scold me. Kerzhentsev. That's not the point, Masha! Contagion, poison - do you understand? -- that's the problem! All your doctors are already half crazy, and you are wild, you are absolutely healthy! You are affectionate with us, as with calves, and your eyes are so clear, so deep and incomprehensibly clear, as if there is no madness in the world at all, no one howls, but only sing songs. Why is there no longing in your eyes? You know something, Masha, you know something precious, Masha, the only, salutary, but what? But what? Masha. I don’t know anything, dear. I live as God commanded, but what should I know? Kerzhentsev (laughs angrily). Well, yes, of course, as God commanded. Masha. And everyone lives like this, I'm not alone. Kerzhentsev (laughs even more angrily). Well, of course, everyone lives like that! No, Masha, you do not know anything, this is a lie, and I cling to you in vain. You are worse than a straw. (Sits down.) Listen, Masha, have you ever been to the theater? Masha. No, Anton Ignatyevich, I have never been. Kerzhentsev. So. And you are illiterate, you have not read a single book. Masha, do you know the gospel well? Masha. No, Anton Ignatyevich, how do you know. I only know what is read in the church, and even then how much can you remember! I like to be in church, but I don't have to, there is no time, there is a lot of work, God forbid, just jump up for a minute, cross your forehead. I, Anton Ignatyevich, strive to get into church when the priest says: and all of you, Orthodox Christians! I will hear it, I will sigh, so I am glad. Kerzhentsev. So she is glad! She knows nothing, and she is glad, and in her eyes there is no melancholy from which one dies. Nonsense! Lower form or ... what or? Nonsense! Masha, do you know that the Earth on which we are now with you, that this Earth is spinning? Masha (indifferently). No, my dear, I don’t know. Kerzhentsev. It is spinning, Masha, it is spinning, and we are returning with her! No, you know something, Masha, you know something that you don't want to say. Why did God give language only to his devils, and angels are speechless? Maybe you are an angel, Masha? But you are dumb - you are desperately not a match for Dr. Kerzhentsev! Masha, darling, do you know that I will really go crazy soon? Masha. No, you won't. Kerzhentsev. Yes? And tell me, Masha, but only with a clear conscience - God will punish you for deception! - tell me in good conscience: am I crazy or not? Masha. You yourself know that there is no ... Kerzhentsev. I don't know anything myself! Myself! I'm asking you! Masha. Certainly not crazy. Kerzhentsev. Did I kill? What is this? Masha. That means they wanted it that way. It was your will to kill, so you killed. Kerzhentsev. What is this? Sin, in your opinion? Masha (somewhat angrily). I don’t know, dear, ask those who know. I am not a judge for people. It’s easy for me to say: sin, I fidgeted with my tongue, that’s ready, but for you it will be a punishment ... No, let others punish, who wants to, but I can’t punish anyone. No. Kerzhentsev. And God, Masha? Tell me about God, you know. Masha. What are you, Anton Ignatyevich, how dare I know about God? No one dares to know about God, there has never been such a desperate head. Can't I bring you some tea, Anton Ignatich? With milk? Kerzhentsev. With milk, with milk ... No, Masha, it was in vain that you took me out of the towel, you did a stupid thing, my angel. Why the hell am I here? No, why the hell am I here? If I were dead, and I would be at peace ... Ah, at least a minute of peace! They cheated on me, Masha! They cheated on me as soon as women, slaves and ... thoughts change! They betrayed me, Masha, and I died. Masha. Who cheated on you, Anton Ignatyich? Kerzhentsev (hitting his forehead). Here. Thought! Thought, Masha, that's who cheated on me. Have you ever seen a snake, a drunken snake mad with poison? And now there are a lot of people in the room, and the doors are locked, and there are bars on the windows - and now she is crawling between people, climbing up their legs, biting on the lips, on the head, in the eyes! .. Masha! Masha. What, my dear, are you not well? Kerzhentsev. Masha! .. (Sits down with his head in his hands.)

Masha comes up and gently strokes his hair.

Masha! Masha. What, honey? Kerzhentsev. Masha! .. I was strong on the ground, and my feet stood firmly on it - and what now? Masha, I'm lost! I will never know the truth about myself. Who am I? Was I pretending to be crazy in order to kill - or was I really crazy, just because I killed? Masha! .. Masha (Gently and affectionately removes his hands from his head, strokes his hair). Lie down on the bed, my dear ... Ah, dear, and how sorry I am for you! Nothing, nothing, everything will pass, and your thoughts will clear up, everything will pass ... Lie down on the bed, rest, and I'll sit around. Look, how many gray hairs, my darling, Antoshenka ... Kerzhentsev. Don't go away. Masha. No, I have nowhere to go. Lie down. Kerzhentsev. Give me a handkerchief. Masha. Here, my dear, this is mine, but it is clean, today they just gave it out. Wipe away the tears, dry it off You need to lie down, lie down. Kerzhentsev (lowering his head, looking at the floor, goes to bed, lies down on his back, eyes closed). Masha! Masha. I'm here. I want to take a chair for myself. Here I am. Is it okay that I put my hand on your forehead? Kerzhentsev. Good. Your hand is cold, I am pleased. Masha. A light hand? Kerzhentsev. Lightweight. You're funny, Masha. Masha. My hand is light. Before, before the nurses, I went to the nannies, and so I do not sleep, sometimes the baby is worried, but if I put my hand, he will fall asleep with a smile. My hand is light, kind. Kerzhentsev. Tell me something. You know something, Masha: tell me what you know. Don't think, I don't want to sleep, I closed my eyes like that. Masha. What do I know, my dear? You all know this, but what can I know? Stupid me. Well, listen. Since I was a girl, we had such a case that he fought off the mother of the calves. And how stupid she had missed him! And by evening it was, and my father said to me: Masha, I’ll go to the right to look for, and you go to the left, if there’s in the Korchagin forest, call. So I went, my dear, and just now I came up to the forest, lo and behold, a wolf from the bushes and a monster!

Kerzhentsev, opening his eyes, looks at Masha and laughs.

What are you laughing at? Kerzhentsev. You tell me, Masha, as a little one - you are telling me about the wolf! Well, was the wolf very scary? Masha. Very scary. Just don’t laugh, I haven’t said everything yet ... Kerzhentsev. Well, that's enough, Masha. Thanks. I have to write. (Stands up.) Masha (pushing back the chair and straightening the bed). Well, write to yourself. Can I bring you some tea now? Kerzhentsev. Yes please. Masha. With milk? Kerzhentsev. Yes, with milk. Don't forget chloralamide, Masha.

Doctor Ivan Petrovich enters, almost colliding with Masha.

Ivan Petrovich. Hello Anton Ignatyevich, good evening. Listen, Masha, why don't you close the door? Masha. Didn't I close it? And I thought ... Ivan Petrovich. "And I thought ..." You look, Masha! This is the last time I'm telling you ... Kerzhentsev. I won't run away, colleague. Ivan Petrovich. This is not the point, but order, we ourselves are in the position of subordinates. Go, Masha. Well, how do we feel? Kerzhentsev. We feel bad according to our position. Ivan Petrovich. That is? And you look fresh. Insomnia? Kerzhentsev. Yes. Yesterday Kornilov kept me awake all night ... is that his name, I think? Ivan Petrovich. What, howling? Yes, severe seizure. A madhouse, my friend, nothing can be done, or a yellow house, as they say. And you look fresh. Kerzhentsev. And you, Ivan Petrovich, is not very fresh. Ivan Petrovich. I got bogged down. Oh, there is no time, otherwise I would play chess with you, you are Lasker! Kerzhentsev. For a test? Ivan Petrovich. That is? No, what is there - for an innocent rest, my friend. Why test you? You yourself know that you are healthy. If it were my power, I would not hesitate to send you to hard labor. (Laughs.) You need hard labor, my friend, hard labor, not chloralamide! Kerzhentsev. So. And why, colleague, when you say this, you don't look me in the eye? Ivan Petrovich. That is, how in the eyes? Where am I looking? In the eyes! Kerzhentsev. You are lying, Ivan Petrovich! Ivan Petrovich. Oh well! Kerzhentsev. Lie! Ivan Petrovich. Oh well! Yes, and you are an angry man, Anton Ignatyevich - just scold right now. It's not good, my friend. And why should I lie? Kerzhentsev. Out of habit. Ivan Petrovich. Well. Again! (Laughs.) Kerzhentsev (looks at him sullenly). And you, Ivan Petrovich, for how many years would you put me in? Ivan Petrovich. That is, to hard labor? Yes, it would be fifteen years old, so I think. Many? Then it is possible for ten, that's enough for you. You yourself want hard labor, well, grab a dozen years. Kerzhentsev. I want it myself! Okay, I want to. So, to hard labor? A? (He chuckles gloomily.) So, let Mr. Kerzhentsev grow hair like a monkey, eh? But this means (hits himself on the forehead)- to hell, huh? Ivan Petrovich. That is? Well, and you are a fierce subject, Anton Ignatyevich - very much! Well, well, not worth it. And here's why I come to you, my dear: today you will have a guest, or rather a guest ... don't worry! A? Not worth it!

Silence.

Kerzhentsev. I do not worry. Ivan Petrovich. It’s great that you don’t worry: by God, there’s nothing in the world that would make it worth breaking a spear! Today you, and tomorrow I, as they say ...

Masha enters and puts down a glass of tea.

Masha, is the lady there? Masha. There in the hallway. Ivan Petrovich. Aha! Go on. So ... Kerzhentsev. Savelova? Ivan Petrovich. Yes, Savelova, Tatiana Nikolaevna. Don't worry, my dear, it's not worth it, although, of course, I would not let the lady in: this is not according to the rules, and indeed a difficult test, that is, in the sense of nerves. Well, the lady obviously has connections, her superiors gave her permission, but what about us? - we are subordinate people. But if you do not want, then your will will be fulfilled: that is, we will send the lady back where she came from. So how, Anton Ignatyevich? Can you sustain this brand?

Silence.

Kerzhentsev. I can. Ask Tatyana Nikolaevna here. Ivan Petrovich. Very well. And one more thing, my dear: a minister will be present at the meeting ... I understand how unpleasant it is, but the order, as a rule, cannot be helped. So don't be rowdy, Anton Ignatich, don't drive him out. I deliberately gave you such a dumbass that he doesn't understand! You can speak calmly. Kerzhentsev. Good. Ask. Ivan Petrovich. Bon voyage, colleague, goodbye. Do not worry.

It turns out. Kerzhentsev was alone for a while. Looks quickly in a small mirror and straightens hair; pulls herself up to appear calm. Enter Tatiana Nikolaevna and the attendant, the latter stands near the door, does not express anything, only occasionally, embarrassedly and guiltily, scratches his nose. Tatyana Nikolaevna is in mourning, her hands are in gloves - apparently, she is afraid that Kerzhentsev will stretch out his hand.

Tatiana Nikolaevna. Hello, Anton Ignatyevich.

Kerzhentsev is silent.

(Louder.) Hello, Anton Ignatyevich. Kerzhentsev. Hello. Tatiana Nikolaevna. May I sit down? Kerzhentsev. Yes. Why did you come? Tatiana Nikolaevna. I'll tell you now. How are you feeling? Kerzhentsev. Good. Why did you come? I didn’t call you, and I didn’t want to see you. If you want to awaken conscience or repentance in me with mourning and with all your ... sad appearance, then it was a waste of labor, Tatyana Nikolaevna. No matter how precious your opinion about what I have done, I value only my own opinion. I respect only myself, Tatyana Nikolaevna - in this respect I have not changed. Tatiana Nikolaevna. No, I’m not for that ... Anton Ignatyevich! You must forgive me, I came to ask your forgiveness. Kerzhentsev (surprised). What is it? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Forgive me ... He listens to us, and I am embarrassed to speak ... Now my life is over, Anton Ignatyich, Alexey took it to the grave, but I cannot and should not be silent about what I understood ... He listens to us ... Kerzhentsev. He doesn't understand anything. Speak. Tatiana Nikolaevna. I realized that I was the only one to blame for everything - without intent, of course, guilty, like a woman, but I was the only one. I somehow forgot, it just did not occur to me that you can still love me, and with my friendship ... it is true, I loved being with you ... But it was I who brought you to illness. Forgive me. Kerzhentsev. Before the illness? Do you think I was sick? Tatiana Nikolaevna. Yes. When that day I saw you so ... scary, so ... not a person, I seem to have realized then that you yourself are just a victim of something. And ... this does not seem to be true, but it seems that even at the minute when you raised your hand to kill ... my Alexei, I already forgave you. Forgive me too. (She cries quietly, lifts her veil and wipes away her tears under the veil.) Sorry, Anton Ignatyevich. Kerzhentsev (silently walks around the room, stops). Tatyana Nikolaevna, listen! I was not crazy. This is terrible!

Tatyana Nikolaevna is silent.

Probably, what I did is worse than if I just, like the others, killed Alexei ... Konstantinovich, but I was not crazy. Tatyana Nikolaevna, listen! I wanted to overcome something, I wanted to rise to some summit of will and free thought ... if only this is true. Horrible! I know nothing. They cheated on me, do you understand? My thought, which was my only friend, lover, protection from life; my thought, in which I alone believed, as others believe in God - it, my thought, has become my enemy, my killer! Look at this head - there is incredible horror in it! (Walks.) Tatiana Nikolaevna (looks at him attentively and with fear). I do not understand. What are you talking about? Kerzhentsev. With all the strength of my mind, thinking like ... a steam hammer, I now cannot decide whether I was crazy or healthy. The line is lost. Oh, vile thought - it can prove both, but what is there in the world besides my thought? It may even be seen from the outside that I am not crazy, but I will never know. Never! Who should I believe? Some lie to me, others don't know anything, and still others I seem to drive crazy myself. Who will tell me? Who's to say? (Sits down and holds his head in both hands.) Tatiana Nikolaevna. No, you were crazy. Kerzhentsev (getting up). Tatyana Nikolaevna! Tatiana Nikolaevna. No, you were crazy. I would not come to you if you were healthy. You're crazy. I saw how you killed, how you raised your hand ... you are crazy! Kerzhentsev. No! It was ... frenzy. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Why, then, did you beat again and again? He was already lying, he was already ... dead, and you kept beating, beating! And you had such eyes! Kerzhentsev. This is not true: I only hit once! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Aha! You forgot! No, more than once, you hit a lot, you were like a beast, you are crazy! Kerzhentsev. Yes, I forgot. How could I forget? Tatyana Nikolaevna, listen, it was a frenzy, because it happens! But the first blow ... Tatiana Nikolaevna (shouts). No! Get away! You still have such eyes ... Move away!

The attendant stirs and steps forward.

Kerzhentsev. I walked away. It is not true. I have such eyes because I have insomnia, because I am suffering unbearably. But I beg you, I once loved you, and you are a man, you have come to forgive me ... Tatyana Nikolaevna. Don't come up! Kerzhentsev. No, no, I don't fit. Listen ... listen! No, I don't fit. Tell me, tell me ... you are a man, you are a noble man, and. I will believe you. Tell! Strain your whole mind and tell me calmly, I will believe, tell me I'm not crazy. Tatiana Nikolaevna. Stand there! Kerzhentsev. I'm here. I just want to kneel. Have mercy on me, tell me! Think, Tanya, how terrifyingly, how incredibly lonely I am! Don't forgive me, don't, I'm not worth it, but tell the truth. You alone know me, they don't know me. If you want, I will give you an oath that if you say, I will kill myself, I myself will avenge Alexey, I will go to him ... Tatyana Nikolaevna. To him? You?! No, you are crazy. Yes Yes. I am afraid of you! Kerzhentsev. Tanya! That Tyana Nikolaevna. Stand up! Kerzhentsev. Okay, I got up. You see how obedient I am. Are crazy people so obedient? Ask him! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Tell me "you". Kerzhentsev. Good. Yes, of course, I have no right, I have forgotten myself, and I understand that you now hate me, you hate me for being healthy, but in the name of the truth - tell me! Tatiana Nikolaevna. No. Kerzhentsev. In the name of ... the slain! Tatiana Nikolaevna. No no! I'm leaving. Farewell! Let people judge you, let God judge you, but I ... forgive you! I drove you crazy, and I'm leaving. Forgive me. Kerzhentsev. Wait a minute! Don't go away! You can't leave like that! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Don't touch me with your hand! You hear! Kerzhentsev. No, no, I inadvertently, I walked away. We will be serious, Tatyana Nikolaevna, we will be just like serious people. Sit down ... or don't you want to? Well, okay, I'll stand too. So here's the thing: I am, you see, lonely. I am terribly lonely, like no one else in the world. Honestly! You see, night is falling, and I am seized with a frenzied horror. Yes, yes, loneliness! .. Great and formidable loneliness, when there is nothing around, a gaping emptiness, do you understand? Don't go away! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Farewell! Kerzhentsev. Just one word, I am now. Just one word! My loneliness! .. No, I won't talk about loneliness anymore! Tell me that you understand, tell me ... but you dare not leave like that! Tatiana Nikolaevna. Farewell.

Comes out quickly. Kerzhentsev rushes after her, but the servant blocks his way. The next minute, with the usual dexterity, he slips out himself and closes the door in front of Kerzhentsev.

Kerzhentsev (pounding furiously, shouting)... Open up! I will break down the door! Tatyana Nikolaevna! Open up! (She walks away from the door and silently grabs her head, grabs her hair with her hands. So she stands.)