Yama (The Pit) Part 24

I'm a ruined laddie, Ruined for alway; While year after year The days go away.

And also:

Don't you cry, my Mary, You'll belong to me; When I've served the army I will marry thee.

But here suddenly, to the general amazement, the stout Kitty, usually taciturn, burst into laughter. She was a native of Odessa.

"Let me sing one song, too. It's sung by thieves and badger queens in the drink shops on our Moldavanka and Peresip."

And in a horrible ba.s.s, in a rusty and unyielding voice, she began to sing, making the most incongruous gestures, but, evidently, imitating some cabaret cantatrice of the third calibre that she had sometime seen:

"Ah, I'll go to Dukovka, Sit down at the table, Now I throw my hat off, Toss it under table.

Then I athk my dearie, 'What will you drink, sweet?'

But all the answer that she makes: 'My head aches fit to split.'

'I ain't a-athking you What your ache may be, But I am a-athking you What your drink may be: Will it be beer, or for wine shall I call, Or for violet wine, or nothing else at all?'"

And all would have turned out well, if suddenly Little White Manka, in only her chemise and in white lace drawers, had not burst into the cabinet. Some merchant, who the night before had arranged a paradisaical night, was carousing with her, and the ill-fated Benedictine, which always acted upon the girl with the rapidity of dynamite, had brought her into the usual quarrelsome condition. She was no longer "Little Manka" and "Little White Manka," but she was "Manka the Scandaliste." Having run into the cabinet, she suddenly, from unexpectedness, fell down on the floor, and, lying on her back, burst into such sincere laughter that all the rest burst out laughing as well. Yes. But this laughter was not prolonged ... Manka suddenly sat up on the floor and began to shout:

"Hurrah! new wenches have joined our place!"

This was altogether an unexpected thing. The baroness did a still greater tactlessness. She said:

"I am a patroness of a convent for fallen girls, and therefore, as a part of my duty, I must gather information about you."

But here Jennka instantly flared up:

"Get out of here right away, you old fool! You rag! You floor mop! ...

Your Magdalene asylums--they're worse than a prison. Your secretaries use us, like dogs carrion. Your fathers, husbands, and brothers come to us, and we infect them with all sorts of diseases ... Purposely ... And they in their turn infect you. Your female superintendents live with the drivers, janitors and policemen, while we are put in a cell if we happen to laugh or joke a little among ourselves. And so, if you've come here as to a theatre, then you must hear the truth out, straight to your face."

But Tamara calmly stopped her:

"Stop, Jennie, I will tell them myself ... Can it be that you really think, baroness, that we are worse than the so-called respectable women? A man comes to me, pays me two roubles for a visit or five roubles for a night, and I don't in the least conceal this, from any one in the world ... But tell me, baroness, do you possibly know even one married lady with a family who isn't in secret giving herself up either for the sake of pa.s.sion to a young man, or for the sake of money to an old one? I know very well that fifty percent of you are kept by lovers, while the remaining fifty, of those who are older, keep young lads. I also know that many--ah, how many!--of you cohabit with your fathers, brothers, and even sons, but these secrets you hide in some sort of a hidden casket. And that's all the difference between us. We are fallen, but we don't lie and don't pretend, but you all fall, and lie to boot. Think it over for yourself; now--in whose favour is this difference?"

"Bravo, Tamarochka, that's the way to serve them!" shouted Manka, without getting up from the floor; dishevelled, fair, curly, resembling at this moment a thirteen-year-old girl.

"Now, now!" urged Jennka as well, flas.h.i.+ng with her flaming eyes.

"Why not, Jennechka? I'll go further than that. Out of us scarcely, scarcely one in a thousand has committed abortion. But all of you several times over. What? Or isn't that the truth? And those of you who've done this, did it not out of desperation or cruel poverty, but you simply were afraid of spoiling your figure and beauty--that's your sole capital! Or else you've been seeking only beastly carnal pleasure, while pregnancy and feeding interfered with your giving yourself up to it!"

Rovinskaya became confused and uttered in a quick whisper:

"Faites attention, baronne, que dans sa position cette demoiselle est instruite."[13]

[13] "Pay attention, baroness, the girl is rather educated for one of her position."

"Figurez-vous, que moi, j'ai aussi remarque cet etrange visage. Comme si je l'ai deja vu ... est-ce en reve? ... en demi-delire? Ou dans sa pet.i.te enfance?"[14]

[14] "Just imagine, I, too, have remarked this strange face. But where have I seen it ... was it in a dream? ... in semi-delirium? Or in her early infancy?"

"Ne vous donnez pas la peine de chercher dans vos souvenirs, baronne,"

Tamara suddenly interposed insolently. "Je puis de suite vous venir aide. Rappelez-vous seulement Kharkoff, et la chambre d'hotel de Koniakine, l'entrepreneur Solovieitschik, et le tenor di grazzia ... A ce moment vous n'etiez pas encore m-me la baronne de ... [15] However, let's drop the French tongue ... You were a common chorus girl and served together with me."

[15] "Don't trouble to strain your memory, baroness. I will come to your aid at once. Just recall Kharkov, a room in Koniakine's hotel, the theatrical manager, Solovieitschik, and a certain lyrical tenor ... At that time you were not yet baroness de ..."

"Mais, dites-moi, au nom de dieu, comment vous trouvez vous ici, Mademoiselle Marguerite."[16]

[16] "But tell me, in G.o.d's name, how you have come to be here, Mademoiselle Marguerite?"

"Oh, they ask us about that every day. I just up and came to be here ..."

And with an inimitable cynicism she asked:

"I trust you will pay for the time which we have pa.s.sed with you?"

"No, may the devil take you!" suddenly shouted out Little White Manka, quickly getting up from the rug.

And suddenly, pulling two gold pieces out of her stocking, she flung them upon the table.

"There, you! .. I'm giving you that for a cab. Go away right now, otherwise I'll break up all the mirrors and bottles here..."

Rovinskaya got up and said with sincere, warm tears in her eyes:

"Of course, we'll go away, and the lesson of Mlle. Marguerite will prove of benefit to us. Your time will be paid for--take care of it, Volodya. Still, you sang so much for us, that you must allow me to sing for you as well."

Rovinskaya went up to the piano, took a few chords, and suddenly began to sing the splendid ballad of Dargomyzhsky:

"We parted then with pride-- Neither with sighs nor words Proffered I thee reproach of jealousy ...

We went apart for aye, Yet only if with thee I might but chance to meet! ..

Ah, that with thee I might but chance to meet!

"I weep not nor complain-- To fate I bend my knee...

I know not, if you loved, So greatly wronging me?

Yet only if with thee I might but chance to meet! ...

Ah, that with thee I might but chance to meet!"

This tender and pa.s.sionate ballad, executed by a great artiste, suddenly reminded all these women of their first love; of their first fall; of a late leave-taking at a dawn in the spring, in the chill of the morning, when the gra.s.s is gray from the dew, while the red sky paints the tips of the birches a rosy colour; of last embraces, so closely entwined, and of the unerring heart's mournful whispers: "No, this will not be repeated, this will not be repeated!" And the lips were then cold and dry, while the damp mist of the morning lay upon the hair.

Silence seized Tamara; silence seized Manka the Scandaliste; and suddenly Jennka, the most untamable of all the girls, ran up to the artiste, fell down on her knees, and began to sob at her feet.

And Rovinskaya, touched herself, put her arms around her head and said: