THE ACTOR. I'm coming. I'll join you. For instance, old man, here's a
bit of verse--I forget how it begins--I forget . . . [_brushes his
hand across his forehead_]
BUBNOFF. There! Your Queen is lost--go on, play!
MIEDVIEDIEFF. I made the wrong move.
THE ACTOR. Formerly, before my organism was poisoned with alcohol, old
man, I had a good memory. But now it's all over with me, brother. I
used to declaim these verses with tremendous success--thunders of
applause . . . you have no idea what applause means . . . it goes to
your head like vodka! I'd step out on the stage--stand this
way--[_Strikes a pose_]--I'd stand there and . . . [_Pause_] I can't
remember a word--I can't remember! My favorite verses--isn't it
ghastly, old man?
LUKA. Yes--is there anything worse than forgetting what you loved?
Your very soul is in the thing you love!
THE ACTOR. I've drunk my soul away, old man--brother, I'm lost . . .
and why? Because I had no faith. . . . I'm done with . . .
LUKA. Well--then--cure yourself! Nowadays they have a cure for
drunkards. They treat you free of charge, brother. There's a hospital
for drunkards--where they're treated for nothing. They've owned up,
you see, that even a drunkard is a human being, and they're only too
glad to help him get well. Well--then--go to it!
THE ACTOR [_thoughtfully_] Where? Where is it?
LUKA. Oh--in some town or other . . . what do they call it--? I'll
tell you the name presently--only, in the meanwhile, get ready. Don't
drink so much! Take yourself in hand--and bear up! And then, when
you're cured, you'll begin life all over again. Sounds good, brother,
doesn't it, to begin all over again? Well--make up your mind!
THE ACTOR [_smiling_] All over again--from the very beginning--that's
fine . . . yes . . . all over again . . . [_Laughs_] Well--then--I
can, can't I?
LUKA. Why not? A human being can do anything--if he only makes up his
mind.
THE ACTOR [_suddenly, as if coming out of a trance_] You're a queer
bird! See you anon! [_Whistles_] Old man--_au revoir!_ [_Exit_]
ANNA. Grand-dad!
LUKA. Yes, little mother?
ANNA. Talk to me.
LUKA [_close to her_] Come on--let's chat . . .
[_Kleshtch, glancing around, silently walks over to his wife, looks at
her, and makes queer gestures with his hands, as though he wanted to
say something._]
LUKA. What is it, brother?
KLESHTCH [_quietly_] Nothing . . .
[_Crosses slowly to hallway door, stands on the threshold for a few
seconds, and exit._]
LUKA [_looking after him_] Hard on your man, isn't it?
ANNA. He doesn't concern me much . . .
LUKA. Did he beat you?