Jack of Hearts

(foreigner) - lackey (of the red suit)

Wed. Jack of Hearts Although he is a thief, this does not prevent him from being a charming young man. His manners are excellent, his conversation is fluid...

Saltykov. Collection. Children of Moscow. 3.

Wed. Jack of Hearts matured, polished and completely developed... a creature languishing under the burden of idleness and drunken melancholy, living from day to day, deprived of any stability to fight life and not recognizing any life tasks other than the satisfaction of the moment.

Right there. 1.

Wed. Everything (redemption certificates) was spent in full... on countless glasses of vodka, at the bottom of which the image became more and more clear "Jack of Hearts" with the ace of diamonds on his back.

Right there. 1.

Wed. Jack of Hearts looks at his interlocutor (foreigner) as if he were a fool. And suddenly - a thought! sell government government offices to this fool. No sooner said than done...

Right there. 3.

Wed. Valet de carrau - the jack of diamonds is a scoundrel.

Wed. Valet ( old) Vaslet - vasselet ( decrease) from vassal ( old- student, servant).

Wed. Vasall ( German), vassal ( English, French), vassallo ( it.).

Wed. Vassalus ( lat.) - subject (vassus, servant).

Cm. ace of diamonds

Russian thought and speech. Yours and someone else's. Experience of Russian phraseology. Collection of figurative words and parables. T.T. 1-2. Walking and apt words. A collection of Russian and foreign quotes, proverbs, sayings, proverbial expressions and individual words. St. Petersburg, type. Ak. Sci..

M. I. Mikhelson.

1896-1912.

See what a “jack of hearts” is in other dictionaries: - (card) playing card. Jack of Hearts (Carroll) A character from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. Jack of Hearts (Stanyukovich) story by K. M. Stanyukovich. Jack of Hearts (Tsvetaeva) drama by M. Tsvetaeva ... Wikipedia

Jack of Hearts Cm … Synonym dictionary- Outdated. Rogue, scoundrel. The Jack of Hearts looks at his interlocutor as if he were a “fofan”. And suddenly a thought! Sell ​​government government offices to this “fofan” (Saltykov Shchedrin. Children of Moscow). They've lived their lives, lied to each other, and just in a moment they'll find themselves in these... what's their name...

Phrasebook Michelson's Large Explanatory and Phraseological Dictionary (original spelling)

Knave of Hearts Knave of Hearts The King of Hearts and Queen of Hearts judge Valt. Illustration by John Tanniel ... Wikipedia

Jack of Hearts Knave of Hearts ... Wikipedia

This term has other meanings, see Jack of Hearts. Jack of Hearts ... Wikipedia

Dictionary Ushakova

1. CHERVONNY1, chervonnaya, chervonnaya (obsolete, region). 1. Red, scarlet. 2. adj., by meaning associated with pure gold, which has a reddish tint. Red gold. 2. CHERVONNY2, red, red. adj. to hearts, belonging to the suit of hearts.... ... Ushakov's Explanatory Dictionary

JACK, jack, husband. (French valet). One of the figures playing cards. Jack of spades. ❖ Jack of hearts see jack of hearts. Jack of diamonds see jack of diamonds. Ushakov's explanatory dictionary. D.N. Ushakov. 1935 1940 ... Ushakov's Explanatory Dictionary

Books

• Jack of Hearts, K. M. Stanyukovich. Konstantin Mikhailovich Stanyukovich (1843-1903) entered literature as the author of works dedicated to the Russian fleet. Much less known are his “non-marine” stories and stories in which he...

"Jack of Hearts"

Georges grew up as a healthy, red-cheeked boy, with lovely blond curls and large, languid, black eyes. The ladies I knew found Georges a charming child; They often tickled his chin with small fingers and loudly pecked his juicy, rosy lips, causing a flush of pleasure and shame on the soft, round cheeks of the thirteen-year-old boy. His father's adjutants and subordinates brought Georges candy and sweet pies and often called Georges a smart boy in front of his parents, so Georges very early became accustomed to considering himself a charming and intelligent creature.

The boy was dressed luxuriously, although it happened that they forgot to change his linen for a long time, fed him to death, often changed governesses and nannies and then did not pay any attention to him. And there was no one. Georges' father, a tall, old, stern general of the memorable Crimean era (44), who took official measurements of the width of soldiers' soles, was busy in the mornings with service, spent the evenings playing cards and was not particularly tender towards children. Official: " good morning“, daddy,” with a kiss on the hand in the morning, and the same greeting in the evening - that’s all the initial communication between the child and his father. In addition, the child was afraid of his father. His stern appearance, his gray, sticking out cockroach mustache, the dull look of his pewter eyes, his hot-tempered shouts: “I love you!” filled the boy with such awe, especially in the first years of his childhood, that after each visit to the dark, gloomy office with wishes of good morning and good evening The boy's trousers were changed (45). The tall, dry figure of the general seemed so scary to him, making not only the child, but also all the adults in this house tremble. However, this trepidation gradually passed. Although the boy was afraid, he was less in awe of his father, able to find in him weak sides, which he exploited quite deftly for a child of his age.

The mother, a plump, good-natured woman in her forties, loved Georges, this Benjamin of the family (45), without memory, with whose birth the relationship between the spouses took on a completely different character. After Georges gave birth, the general found that his wife was overweight, flabby and old, and stopped visiting her half. The general's wife became distraught and began to suffer more often from hot flashes of blood and unbridled fits of jealousy. At first, she burst into her husband’s office, foaming at the mouth, wearing nothing but a skirt, and demanded an explanation. Then terrible scenes took place. At first the husband restrained himself, silently listening to the stupid lexicon of curses, but when the mad woman lost all control, the gray mustache moved somehow quickly and terribly, his face turned pale, his cheekbones moved quickly, and he muttered dully: “Go away!” She, of course, responded with curses, and he furiously raised his hand...

Desperate hysterical sobs were heard from the office; the mother thrashed around on the floor and finally fainted. Little Georges spied these scenes more than once and felt sorry for his mother.

After such scenes, the general’s wife seemed to become even more attached to her lastborn. Stuffing sweets into his mouth and shedding a hail of tears, she involuntarily poured out her complaints about the father in front of her son and somehow by chance, without understanding what she was doing, initiated him into her secrets. The mother spoiled her son, indulged his whims, dressed him in expensive jackets, spent money on sweets with him, sometimes fussed with him for a long time, amused himself like a child with a toy, sometimes forgot that she had not seen him for whole days. She went out, received guests, read French novels and, with a kind of pleasure of outraged female pride, was engaged in observations of love affairs husband And in this activity Georges little by little became her good assistant. At first, the mother, under plausible pretexts, sent Georges to his father, in order to take him by surprise, but little by little these messages began to be repeated without any pretext, and it finally came to the point that mother and son often quite seriously discussed together some new ambush plan. , from which Georges could have a good look at how the father kisses and pinches the governess.

Georges' governesses changed very often. Either they themselves walked away from the general’s persecution, or they left the house due to the jealous nagging and insolence of the general’s wife. The general did not let them go. He somehow always hired pretty governesses and was a master of immediately getting on friendly terms with them. The same story happened with nannies.

Sanguine in character, the general’s wife quickly gave herself over to impressions. Like a child, she surprisingly quickly moved from anger to affection, from tears to laughter. Often, listening to Zhorzhenka’s report about how daddy “hugged and pinched” the new “nanny Dasha” in the corridor, the mother laughed until she cried, forcing Zhorzhenka to repeat the story about the adventures of the “old libertine,” as she always called her husband behind his back. Georges repeated and sometimes added details that flashed in his imagination... Thanks to these conversations with his mother, the boy’s instincts woke up ahead of time, and Georges spent a long time clinging to the lips of familiar ladies who were kissing the “lovely little one,” and the paint that appeared on his round cheeks, was not a blush of shame.

Father often slapped Georges in the face, pulled him by the ears and, on occasion, whipped him. But the reasons for the punishments were so diverse that it was completely impossible to understand them and find any guiding idea. Sometimes a boy was punished for a torn shirt collar, sometimes a yard boy's cut forehead was wasted. Once he was whipped for lying, another time he was forgiven for stealing some trinket from his aunt. The general especially did not like it when things were broken or damaged, and he always punished them for this.

Georges howled not so much from pain as from shame and anger, and looked for an opportunity to catch his father in his playful adventures. He affectionately begged Karolina Karlovna, his young governess, to go with him after dinner, at six o’clock, for a walk in the large garden behind the house and, having asked for leave to go to the greenhouse, he left the governess alone on a bench in the shade of the alley behind a book and ran back to watch for his father’s arrival. Soon a sharp, hacking cough made it known that his father was in the garden - he always walked at these hours - and Georges, noticing his father, carefully ran around to the place where Karolina Karlovna was sitting, hid in the bushes and, holding his breath, waited impatiently for intimate scenes

The general, noticing a woman’s dress shining under the rays of the setting sun, followed it like a moth to a flame. Looking around fearfully, he sat down next to him and began some strange, abrupt conversation. The boy strained his keen hearing, and fragmentary phrases reached his ears with the usual harshness of the barracks, somewhat softened by the proximity of the woman and the process of courtship.

Blood pounded into the little spy's temples. He caught snatches of phrases and impatiently waited for the usual transition from words to action.

Where is the boy? Running?

In the greenhouse...

A nasty, triumphant smile crossed the face of the “lovely boy” at these words. He craned his neck more tensely.

Again came the harsh whisper, irritating Georges' excited nerves.

Will you come today?

She... Watches... I... I don't know...

Honey... come!

Leave... As much as possible... They will notice...

The general hugged Karolina Karlovna and silently, like an animal, kissed her. She quietly struggled, whispered some unclear words... He did not listen to her babble and, without dropping a word, continued to silently tickle his chin, kiss his face, neck...

In the silence of the garden, mysteriously enticing sounds, increased breathing, and some kind of dull fuss reached the boy. He saw everything and at the same time saw nothing. Some kind of fog clouded his eyes, blood rushed to his head, and he, pouring himself with drink from internal excitement, again strained his vision, devouring the foggy picture with his eyes. He admired, was in awe and angry. He was ready to rush to his father and at the same time froze with fear at the thought of being noticed. He closed his eyes for a second so that, opening them again, he could enjoy the spectacle more fully. So the drunkard leaves the wine for a while in order to find new charms in it.

Carefully, holding his breath, like a mouse in the close proximity of a cat, carefully parting the branches of the bushes, he crawled back, stood up, took a breath, ran around two alleys and, with the look of a playful, innocent boy, scattered along the side path as fast as he could to the bench and stopped , rooted to the spot, as if frightened by the presence of his father.

The general quickly pulled his hand away from the governess’s waist, somehow ingratiatingly, with the air of a freshly whipped schoolboy, looked at Georges and immediately lowered his eyes. With a deft movement of her hand, straightening her hair, the governess cast a gentle, fearful glance at the boy. Her cheeks were burning, her eyes seemed to run inward. Those terrible seconds of an unbearable situation have come when everyone understands that the other has seen and understood what has happened, but at the same time everyone pretends that he has not seen anything and knows nothing.

Where did you run? - the father asked sharply.

In the greenhouse, daddy. What pineapples are there! - the boy exclaimed with feigned delight. - Fedor says that they will be in time by Sunday.

Big ones, Georges? - the governess asked, in turn, to ask something.

Huge... that's what they are, Karolina Karlovna! - Georges spoke animatedly, joyfully looking at Karolina Karlovna’s embarrassed face.

Remind me of them, Georges... remind me! Yes!.. - Here the general took a breath, as if he was choking in his throat. - Yes... You kept asking to join the circus! Here you go, go to the circus, boy, go! - the father said soon, taking out a brand new silver ruble from a beaded wallet and disgustingly giving it to Georges.

With these words, the general stood up and started to walk along the alley, but after taking a few hesitant steps, he returned, touched Georges on the elbow and said:

You can go to the circus tomorrow. You can!.. There are horses there... horses... They ride on them... okay...

He pronounced these words unnaturally, confusedly, and suddenly lowering his voice, as if in passing, without looking at Georges, he said in a dull voice, walking away from his son:

Don't talk... Mother, don't talk nonsense!..

And with quick, argumentative soldier steps, his soles clanking on the sand, the general walked away and soon disappeared into a side alley.

Georges looked lovingly at the silver ruble piece glistening in his palm and vaguely felt some kind of disgust in his soul. Of course, tomorrow he will go to the circus - it is very fun to be at the circus - he will take with him the footman Fedka, his favorite, and buy some delicacies, but still this silver coin it felt like it was burning through his palm, and he wanted to get rid of it as quickly as possible, exchange it or something, so as not to have to see it. And this confused look from his father did not give him the expected satisfaction, but, on the contrary, stabbed him in the heart, just stabbed him. Despite the fear, he still loved his father and still loves him, but somehow not in the same way, as if there was a gap in love, from behind which his father’s schoolboy eyes looked out, and this shiny, ugly ruble, and these dull words: “ do not chat!"

“Oh, why did I see everything!”

A complex process of thought and feeling took place in the boy. A feeling of remorse, pain for his father, and a feeling of shame filled his child’s heart with warmth. He somehow crouched down, threw the ruble away from him and, turning quietly, wandered thoughtfully to the bench. When he raised his eyes and saw the beautiful Karolina Karlovna in front of him, bathed in the crimson light of the setting rays, he rushed to her and nervously sobbed on her chest, as if looking for an excuse. She warmed him up, tenderly fingering his silky curls, and the boy sobbed quietly, lulled by the even breathing of his chest and the gentle tickling of the woman’s fingers.

You, Georges, my dear, don’t talk. Don't tell mommy. I will love you.

No... no... I won’t... I haven’t seen anything! - the boy answered, sobbing nervously.

And it flashed through my head: “Why is she asking... oh, why? She’s good and her father is good... I’m bad... I’m alone!”

But Karolina Karlovna hardly understood what was happening to the boy. In response to his words, she quickly remarked:

And there was nothing to see. Dad just came up and asked where are you?

The boy jumped up.

"Why is she lying? Why?"

He looked up at her with stern, angry eyes. She met them with a laughing, affectionate look and began to kiss his eyes. Georges covered them, as if allowing them to continue, then pulled back, trembled like a shot bird, impulsively brought his lips closer and began to cover Karolina Karlovna’s face, neck, and chest with hot kisses. She did not resist, did not recoil from the boy in horror, but laughed loudly with an inciting laugh.

When they returned home, Georges remembered the abandoned ruble and did not say a word to his mother about the scene in the garden.

The fourteen-year-old boy, along with his sixty-year-old father, shared Caroline's favor.

By some silent agreement between them, the secret was kept carefully on the boy’s part, and the father was obliged to his son for the fact that at that time there were no scenes of jealousy on the part of the mother. Whether the old man understood this, or whether it was Caroline’s doing, only the father began to somehow treat his son more softly and turned a blind eye to his tricks, for which he had previously punished.

And Georges’ mother fell silent for a while, deceived by her favorite. She received more or less satisfactory answers to her questions from Georges and kept expecting her husband to put his marital anger to mercy.

Georges' classes went on as usual. Teachers came to him and were pleased with his success; Caroline taught to chat in French and English; the ladies he knew still caressed him, but he, with the depravity of a depraved boy, sometimes looked into their eyes so that they blushed under the gaze of the “adorable little one.”

Often in the living room, where the boy was shown to guests and the hypocrisy of which was already familiar to Georges - in his presence, neither his father nor his mother did not hesitate to scold those who were then especially kindly received in the living room - Georges ran through the courtyard into the people's room and often spent hours watching the game in three leaves (51) and mariage and listening with the air of an experienced barchuk to the ambiguous greasiness of the coachmen and lackeys. He himself often began to talk about Fiona’s merits in front of Dasha, and once he used such an expression that the people burst into loud laughter. Only the old coachman Pavel looked sternly and in surprise at Georges with his serious gray eyes and, regretfully shaking his gray head, remarked:

Ay-ay, little gentleman, aren’t you ashamed?

Georges was embarrassed under the gaze of the coachman's serious eyes, but the fear of appearing funny in front of the other faces in the servants' room made him smile impudently and, with feigned impudence, answer:

What do you care, old man? Your job is to look after the horses, not me.

Pavel just shook his head sadly and didn’t say another word. The lackeys chuckled approvingly that the young barchuk had shaved the ever-sullen Pavel well.

People in the house forgot about Georges, and only towards dinner one of the maids ran into the servants' room and hurriedly called Georges home.

Let's go, master, they'll sit down at the table now. Hurry, barchuk, hurry! - the sharp-eyed maid hurried him.

Georges somewhat broke down in front of her, wanting to show that he was not afraid if he was late, and deliberately lazily rose from the dubious coachman's bed, on which he was lying in his velvet jacket and Valenciennes (51).

Come on, Yegor Nikolaevich, there’s no need to be tender... Let’s go, otherwise I’ll get it because of you.

They grabbed hands and ran, laughing cheerfully, across the yard.

Georges was brushed, his hair was combed, and he entered the dining room with Caroline, who was decorously leading a clean, sweet, well-bred boy by the hand. There were always guests and relatives at dinner. The general lived openly and ate well. If he was in the spirit, there would be a cheerful conversation, they would talk about new appointments on the occasion of the expected Eastern War (52), pass on gossip, and tell ambiguous stories about local ladies. Georges's elder brother, a married, handsome colonel, not embarrassed by the presence of his wife and sisters, smartly recounted his adventures in the Caucasus, causing cheerful laughter and a smile on the general's lips with some details. Caroline lowered her eyes in shame. Georges, with the naive air of a child who does not understand, listened attentively to the assessment of the merits of the Circassian women. The dinner was pleasant: one felt the soporific heaviness of the delicious dishes and wine. Nothing angered the general, and, contrary to usual, none of the footmen expected the general's own punishment for faults after dinner, and therefore all the footmen were as cheerful as the gentlemen.

With the arrival of the chief commander in the city of S. (52), the general's house became even more lively. On the eve of the great drama, it seemed that no one foresaw the future ruins. The staff officers and adjutants who came from St. Petersburg brought with them that charm of unspoken words, smiles, and gestures that Georges’ married sisters and other ladies especially liked. The general himself seemed to have softened: he became more cheerful, more attentive, less rude and harsh, and was delighted with the visits of important persons. The general's wife laughed until she cried, listening to the most obscene jokes and reading the latest French novels brought by the St. Petersburg guests. Georges' sisters dressed up and flirted; St. Petersburg adjutants indulgently courted for entertainment. In the large, dense garden, among the aroma of flowers and greenery, they often drank tea in the evenings, and in the dark twilight of the warm southern night there was the sound of cheerful laughter, women's unspoken remarks, half-phrases, gentle hints and boastful exclamations: “We will throw our hats at them!”

This atmosphere had some kind of enchanting effect on Georges. He was especially struck by the visiting young adjutant with his manners, dashing posture, grace of forms, movements, words... He already imitated him, looked into his eyes with the faith of a neophyte (53) and was jealous of Caroline for him. Sitting away from the tea table, Georges listened as the adjutant exchanged bons-mots with a young woman, and at the same time jealously watched Caroline. He was carried away by the adjutant, looked around and did not find the governess. He stood up imperceptibly and walked into the depths of the garden... In the darkness, a white dress flashed right next to the grate...

* sharp words (French).

Is that you, Caroline?

Me: What do you want, Georges?

What are you doing here?

Nothing... See, I'm looking at the street. I'm tired of it there.

He stood around. Cheerful chatter and laughter could be heard from the house. Along the street, walking steadily and clanking with chains, the prisoners were returning from work to the blocks. They passed, the chains jingled more quietly, very quietly, and everything fell silent. Only in the silence of the night could the drawn-out calls of the sentries be heard from the bay: “Listen!” and then the same answer: “listen!..”

It's time for you to sleep, Georges... it's almost ten o'clock! - Caroline noted, wiping away tears.

What were you crying about, Caroline? What are you talking about?

So, Georges... Well, it's time!

Not yet... You tell me what!

Well, I'll tell you... I'll tell you... Let's go...

Will you come for me? - the boy whispered.

She covered his mouth with a wet hand and ordered him to remain silent.

Will you come?

If you're smart, I'll come! - Caroline laughed.

And you won’t talk to the adjutant without me?

Again... jealous too?.. - Caroline laughed.

Don't laugh, better don't laugh, look! - Georges threatened.

That's why I'm afraid of you!

Of course you are afraid! - Georges answered confidently and went with Caroline to the guests.

Come quickly! - he whispered after saying goodbye to his parents and guests. - Tell me what you were crying about! - Georges added in the tone of a capricious tyrant, going to bed.

And in the garden for a long time there was laughter and confident talk that “we will throw our hats at them.”

A few days later the general had a big dinner. Many generals, admirals and other officers arrived. Georges was dressed in a new velvet black jacket and ordered to thoroughly repeat the poem “Borodino”. We dined with music and drank a lot. Georges paid special attention to the most honored guest, a tall, thin general, with an intelligent face and short-cropped hair. He ate little, smiled sarcastically, and when he spoke in a low voice, everyone listened. Georges noticed that everyone was afraid of the “old man,” and the general looked after him especially respectfully. When they went out onto the balcony after dinner, the general took Georges by the hand and introduced him to the old man.

The old man smiled affectionately, patted Georges on the cheek with his dry, long fingers and said:

Well done... is he studying?

Why, your lordship! - answered the father.

Lively boy! - another general remarked.

Georges stood among the balcony and did not know what to do. The “old man” narrowed his eyes, sipping from a cup of coffee, and seemed in no mood to talk with Georges. However, seeing the boy’s awkward position and some tense expectation in the general’s face, he said:

Well done...well done. To the military?

Definitely, Prince. I will be a military man! - Georges answered proudly.

He also loves more military poems, your lordship! - the father picked up. - If I may, the boy would consider it an honor...

The old man nodded his head kindly and - it seemed to Georges - winced. But there was nothing to do. The father was already nodding his head, and Georges, clearing his throat, began in a brave tone:

Tell me, uncle, it’s not for nothing that Moscow, burned by fire, was given to the Frenchman?

When he finished, the old man again patted him on the cheek, again called him “well done,” and Georges left the balcony, accompanied by the general approval of the guests, feeling incomparably higher and better because he was praised by the “old man” himself. Georges noticed that his father, tearing up with emotion, looked at the boy as if he had accomplished some feat. Georges seriously felt like a hero, and in the eyes of his mother, sisters and Caroline, he actually acquired something heroic because he read Borodino in front of the “old man” himself.

However, the nightly visits to Caroline’s room did not leave their mark on Georges’ health. He grew pale, lost weight, and finally one evening he felt such pain and aches throughout his body that he was put to bed. Three days later he was in a nervous fever. He thrashed about, screamed and raved about women. Caroline, in fright, so that the boy would not let it slip in his delirium, took care of him herself.

When the crisis passed and the boy began to recover, Caroline was no longer in the house. Her mother scolded her in front of Georges, calling her disgusting. Georges blushed and did not say a word.

The military thunderstorm was approaching closer and closer (55). Guns were carried along the streets, soldiers and sailors were moving. Everyone's faces became more serious, more concentrated, quieter. It was no longer heard that “we’ll throw our hats”; were preparing for something serious; the general, as the servants said, was a “donkey.” He became softer with the soldiers, as if he was being nice to them. The general's family was in a hurry to leave, and Georges was going to be sent to St. Petersburg, to a government institution. Georges was heartily happy. He had already forgotten about Caroline and, before leaving for St. Petersburg, he so persistently pestered the coachman’s thick-breasted wife, catching her in the garden, that she, finally breaking free, gave him a resounding slap in the face, adding a strong word, to the cheerful laughter of the prisoners working in the garden.

Georges rushed after her, but the coachman's wife showed him such a healthy fist that Georges began to sob in impotent anger and vowed, when he became an officer, to flog this "scoundrel."

He just said “whipping”, not expecting that by that time Pelageya would already be “temporarily obliged”.

Turn around?! Well done, well done, brother! Are you used to it? They started a fight, huh? - the old uncle senator said cheerfully, lifting his golden glasses onto his large, bald forehead and laughing good-naturedly when Georges appeared from the establishment on vacation in the evening of the first Saturday, in a new embroidered uniform.

Did you write to your father, well done?

Wrote, uncle!

Okay... okay... Do you want to eat?..

Thank you, uncle. Do not want.

As you want. When I was a cadet (56), I was always hungry!.. Okay, okay. Now go to your aunt, go, my friend! - remarked the old senator. He affectionately patted Georges on the cheek and, lowering his glasses from his forehead, continued his studies at the large military map.

Georges left his uncle’s large office, walked through the large hall and stopped at the threshold of the living room, dimly lit by the dull light of a lamp.

At a large round table, on the sofa, a beautiful, curvaceous brunette of about thirty, in an elegant gray silk dress, was sitting at work. She looked up and smiled welcomingly. Georges quickly walked along the carpet and kissed the well-groomed white hand extended to him, shining with rings, with pink, beautifully sharpened nails.

Hello Georges. Well, are we used to it?

It’s okay, aunty, I’m used to it! - Georges said somewhat timidly, turning his helmet in all directions.

Don't call me aunty, Georges, just: ma tante. Why are you twirling your helmet all the time? No need to turn, my dear! Don't be angry, and I'll take you in my hands and make a model out of a handsome man like you. young man. Want? - said the aunt, smiling sternly with her big blue eyes.

I want, ma tante...

And great... Now show us your paws?

Georges, embarrassed, held out his hands.

We have lovely hands, but they need to be exercised, my dear. Firstly, wash them more often, and secondly, clean your nails. You can’t, my friend, walk around with dirty hands... you’re not a man! Go to my room, wash them and then come back.

Georges, blushing with shame and annoyance, went to his aunt’s room, washed his hands, trimmed his nails, cleaned them thoroughly, and, returning to the living room, showed his clean hands.

Now our lovely paws are fine. Is it possible to straighten your curly cowlick? - She carefully smoothed her cowlick. - Well done to us! Now sit down and tell me how you spent your first week.

The memory of this week had been tormenting Georges since the morning. It was a terrible week. There they beat him twice, laughed at him, teased him as a “Crimean little sheep,” and when he tried to fight, he was given such a beating that, remembering it, Georges was overcome with a feeling of anger and grief.

He began to tell the story, but suddenly a spasm squeezed his throat and tears came to his eyes. Despite his strong desire not to burst into tears in front of the brilliant auntie, in this elegant living room, he could not hold back his tears and quickly wiped them with a handkerchief, trying to muffle his convulsive sobs.

What happened to you? What are you, dear boy? - the aunt asked in a soft but indifferent voice, raising her eyes from her embroidery to Georges. - Come to me!

Georges approached cautiously.

Tell me about your grief... tell your aunt! - she continued, holding out her hand to Georges with a cautious movement, as if afraid to let him come closer, lest he crush and drip her elegant dress with tears. - It's a pity maman!.. You were her darling, weren't you? Don't cry, my dear! I'll replace maman for you, do you want it? - she asked the question in a confident tone, which made the boy quite happy with the offer to replace maman.

I want... ma tante!

Well, there’s no point in crying... After all, you can’t sit in your S... Such a big young man is crying!.. It’s a shame... Your eyes will turn red... Dry your tears... like that! Is this your official rag? - She disgustedly touched Georges’ scarf with the nail of her little finger.

State...

Bad scarves! I’ll make you a dozen cambric ones when you come to us, take them, but for now take mine and wipe your pretty eyes. Your maman wrote to me about them a long time ago... Well, stop it... How nervous you are... Look at me! Well? Can we smile? - said the aunt, lightly patting Georges on the cheek.

But Georges, although he wiped away his tears, did not smile.

Well, now sit down... You can’t, my dear, be such a whiner!

Georges was angry at the treatment of this “proud aunt,” as he had already mentally dubbed her, and he decided not to betray his grief and not talk about his misfortunes of the past week. He wanted to prove to her as quickly as possible that he was not at all the unhappy boy with dirty hands that she thought him to be, but an adult, sensible young man who, for that matter, would be able to hide his suffering and could conduct a conversation like that the adjutant who had so impressed him back home.

“And what, really, does she imagine? Does she think that she’s beautiful and has diamonds on her hands and is putting on airs? I’ll show her what I’m like... Let her know and not think that I’m always twirling my helmet and have no decent manners!"

So Georges thought, not without an evil twinkle in his dark eyes, glancing from under his brows at his aunt’s slender fingers, with which she quickly fingered the silks.

What are we thinking about... about maman?

No, ma tante... I just remembered Nesvetov,” Georges answered, as if preparing for battle, with nervous sharpness in his voice.

What kind of Nesvetov is this... adjutant and handsome?..

Yes, ma tante, adjutant. He and I were very friendly! - Georges suddenly lied, wanting to impress his aunt. - He is a very decent person...

Did he visit you often? - remarked the aunt, peering at Georges with a smile.

Almost every day.

How's that? Who was he courting? Which of your sisters, Anette or Barbe?

It seems that Varya was more flirtatious with him, ma tante! - Georges laughed.

Do you really understand how flirtatious they are? - The aunt smiled curiously, starting to listen to her nephew with great interest. - What, is she really good, your Varya?..

Everyone thought she was very much like you, ma tante! But... but you’re better,” Georges said quietly, blushing slightly.

A satisfied smile instantly flashed across the aunt’s stern blue eyes. Georges noticed this very well and understood the impact of his words, although the aunt made a serious face and, straightening her hair with a graceful movement of her hand, said sternly:

Have we already learned to say stupid things?

Does telling the truth mean speaking nonsense, ma tante? - Georges asked in the tone of a naive child.

She looked at Georges even more sternly, but he did not lower his large black eyes under this stern gaze. Smiling with them, he looked her straight in the face with naive courage. Several seconds passed like this. Georges saw how her ears first turned red, like a bright blush breaking through her thin, white skin cheeks, came right up to the eyes. She turned away her eyes angrily, as if amazed that a stupid boy could make her blush, with a sharp movement she grabbed a skein of silk from the table and, handing it to Georges, without looking him in the eyes, said:

Better help me unravel the silk, you nasty boy!

Although these words were spoken in the same stern tone, Georges grasped their meaning very well and realized that she did not now consider him a “nasty boy,” and was triumphant that he had shown himself to “this proud woman” from such a good side.

At ten o'clock the guests gathered: three ladies and several young men. Sitting in an armchair at a distance, Georges greedily caught the charm of French chatter, the inimitable piquancy of social gossip and, devouring with his eyes the cheerful, resourceful ladies and beautiful, dexterous, graceful young men, who reminded him of a brilliant adjutant, who spoke so freely and witty about dancers, trotters and princesses , he felt a kind of blissful pride that he could feel the charm of this dimly lit living room, these fragrant ladies and gentlemen, this elusive aroma of the room that tickled his nerves.

Uncle Senator entered the living room, adjusting his glasses, and said to everyone kind words and, frowning somehow sourly, he apologized that his classes were interfering with the pleasure of being with the guests longer. Georges noticed that when his uncle entered, everyone seemed to calm down, tighten up, and began to speak more quietly... The conversation turned to the war... Sadly shaking his head, the uncle told one adjutant about the last battle.

And our soldiers, soldiers! - the short old man spoke with a kind of proud reverence, adjusting his glasses with one hand and tugging at the adjutant’s button with the other. “If it weren’t for them... shame... just shame... And everywhere... everywhere... Yes,” he lowered his voice, “and for heroes there is the impossible, especially when...”

He began to quietly say something to the same adjutant who had just before the old man’s arrival told the ladies the latest anecdote about Mila.

Poor people! - the senator concluded with a sigh.

He praised the ladies for not sitting idle, but pinching lint (60) (they all had small breasts), and, noticing Georges in the corner, he approached him.

Well done, are you still awake? It's time, boy, to sleep, it's time! Faith! - he turned to his wife, - it’s time for the boy to sleep, what should he do here?

And when Georges rose from his chair, his uncle crossed him and kissed him on the forehead, quickly withdrawing his hand when Georges leaned in for a kiss.

Sleep with God, my friend! Pray to God! - the old man said affectionately and, looking around with the same sour smile, left the living room, making a general bow to everyone.

Georges, not without sadness, left the living room and fell asleep dreaming of a black horse on which he would review the troops. The “proud aunt” looks admiringly from the balcony and is angry that he does not pay any attention to her. The perky haircut cadet, by whose grace he received the shake, bows before Georges and humbly salutes him. But Georges generously gives him his hand and says: “Nothing, nothing... I’m not angry, I forgot everything!”

The next morning, Georges took special care of the toilet. He certainly wanted to show his aunt that even without her he knew how to behave like a decent young man. He didn’t want to lose face and spent a long time smoothing his hair in front of the mirror and working on his nails. Having finished the toilet, Georges still stood in front of the mirror, took several poses that he liked so much in the adjutant, tried several facial expressions - he really wanted it to be serious, and, regretting that he did not yet have a mustache, he nevertheless smoothed his lips with his hand, as if straightening his mustache, and went to the dining room.

When the slender, handsome, fresh-faced boy smartly entered the dining room and, slightly blushing from shy excitement, approached his aunt’s hand and kissed his uncle - both uncle and aunt seemed not to recognize in this slender, graceful, ruddy young man yesterday’s, still timid boy. Both of them could not hide their pleasant impression of the beautiful, healthy freshness that Georges brought into the dining room, and involuntarily admired it.

Well done, well done. Brave boy! - the senator said cheerfully. - He, Vera, reminds me of my father!..

In my opinion, more like a mother!.. What do you want, Georges: tea or coffee?

Coffee, ma tante!

He moved his chair so deftly, sat down so decently and drank his coffee with such grace that Vera Alekseevna could not help but agree that Georges was a very decent boy who would turn out to be a man. He answered his uncle's questions briskly, so that his uncle sat at the table for an extra five minutes, amused by his brisk chatter about military affairs. Standing up, he said that he would “take the boy to church,” and again added that Georges was “well done.”

Vera Alekseevna, in her white hood, with wide sleeves, from under which her white bare arms were visible far away, with loose strands of hair tied with a crimson ribbon, today seemed to Georges younger and not as proud as yesterday. She chatted merrily with Georges, asked who he liked from yesterday's guests, joked about whether he had fallen in love with “Cousin Lina,” and suddenly frowned, blushed and pulled down her sleeve, catching a closely curious gaze fixed on her bare arm.

Caught by surprise, Georges blushed to his ears and involuntarily lowered his eyes... The aunt looked at him, smiled and thought that the boy was even more charming when he blushed.

Soon she got up and did not speak to Georges for almost the whole day. Only in the evening, getting dressed for the ball, when Georges came to say goodbye to her, she cheerfully asked him, turning around in front of him in a beautiful ball gown:

Is the dress good?

Lovely, ma tante! - Georges answered, freely admiring the dress, her bare arms, back, neck, at which she was no longer angry, but somehow smiled strangely, squinting her eyes and as if admiring the boy’s charm.

Is he coming?.. - she turned around in front of him, as if wanting to prolong his charm.

Still would! In it, ma tante, you will be the queen of the ball! - Georges whispered.

You flatter, bad boy! Well, goodbye until Saturday!

And Vera Alekseevna suddenly adopted her mother’s tone, somehow solemnly crossed Georges and, kissing him, instructively remarked:

Look, Georges, behave well, study hard, be a good boy and don’t upset your aunt!

Georges promised to be a kind boy and several times with special tenderness covered his aunt’s warm little hand with kisses. She took her time to pull it back, straightening it with her other hand. White flower in her hair, and then, as if having come to her senses, she took her hand away and again advised Georges to be a “good boy.”

When the “good boy” rode in his uncle’s carriage to the “establishment,” the neck and shoulders of the beautiful aunt flashed before his eyes for a long time, and for a long time he inhaled the fragrant aroma of her boudoir.

Georges soon got used to the “institution”, fell in love with it and got along with his comrades. He studied well, soon became the leader at the front and for some reason enjoyed the special favor of the company commander.

A year later, Georges had already made a hundred rubles in debt to the shoemaker, tailor, and reckless drivers, and had already managed to meet one little actress from the French theater, which he proudly told his comrades about. From his father he received ten rubles a month “for buns”, and his uncle senator gave him the same amount, but, of course, this money was not enough. There were many rich young people in the establishment who freely wasted money and made debts, and Georges was ashamed not to waste money and not to make debts, ashamed in front of his comrades, ashamed in front of himself.

In letters to his mother, he described his situation, spoke of “the shame of the Rastegai-Sapozhkov family” and asked for money. “After all, mother, I can’t lag behind the others, because I can’t go in a government uniform to Princess Tarakanova, who has aristocrats and His Serene Highness Obolduev himself.”

His mother fully sympathized with Georges, sent as much as she could, and asked his father to increase his monthly salary, exposing the surname Rastegai-Sapozhkov, but the general shouted and ordered his mother to write that he would ask that young Rastegai-Sapozhkov be flogged for being “foolish.” ".

Georges was angry with his “old man,” who, in his opinion, “had lost his mind and did not understand the demands of life.” He made debts, borrowing from the doorman, from the watchmen, and even made an acquaintance with a moneylender who lent him money at crazy interest rates.

At the age of fifteen, Georges already knew how to squint his eyes contemptuously, peering at those passing by, and, wrapped in a beaver collar, ride along Nevsky from the Anichkov Bridge on a trotter that looked like “his own horse.” He deftly put his hand to his helmet, freely drank a bottle of champagne, sang French chansonnets, lightly graced, brazenly bullied a certain kind of lady and knew how to look at women with that bright, insolent, laughing look of his lovely black eyes, which often caused an involuntary blush to appear on their cheeks. Thanks to the disposition of his superiors, tact and ability to show himself, he was always in sight, went to the orderlies and dreamed of wearing the long-desired uniform in two years, although he doubted that it was unlikely that his father would agree to give such an allowance so that Georges could wear this uniform with honor and don’t be shy about paying in restaurants. He knew that his father had a Ryazan estate, therefore there must be money besides his salary; but how great his fortune was, how much income this estate brought, he did not know for sure and was only fully aware that he needed money, that in fact it was impossible for him, the young, graceful Georges Rastegay-Sapozhkov, to be without money. Why will he visit society, the opera, restaurants, French women? And is it proper for him to ride in cabs, when his comrades, who are far from being as smart, beautiful and dexterous as he, ride in their own carriages and already have kept women? He must have all this and all this will come from somewhere: either from the Ryazan estate, or somehow he will get settled... And he told everyone that his father was rich, and the “Ryazan estate” was presented in his stories somehow Eldorado(64), from which gold flowed in abundance. Speaking about this to his comrades, he himself believed what he said, and, hoping for something, he borrowed money for reckless people, for restaurants, for fun picnics, in full confidence that all these debts would be paid. And the debts grew quickly, so that he himself was frightened when the moneylender demanded payment of five hundred rubles.

Georges continued to respectfully court his aunt and often took money from her, and Vera Alekseevna continued to flirt with that skillful manner of women over thirty who drive young boys crazy. At first she played the role of “second maman,” but when the “boy” began to grow a mustache and he, shuddering, looked at her neck, she blushed, got angry, pulled his ears, laughing when he passionately kissed her hands, and became him on the leg of his “elder friend”. She loved to ask who he knew, advised him not to get acquainted with “these ladies,” then demanded that he tell “everything... everything...”, then suddenly became angry when Georges described to her the beauty of Suzette, with whom he had dinner , pursed her lips capriciously and, as if by accident, lowered her scarf from her shoulders, showing Georges her neck and heavily breathing chest. When Georges, smiling slyly, said that he was an “innocent boy,” she again fell into the tone of “second maman,” guided him on the path of truth, advising him not to be a spoiled and nasty boy, and squeezed Georges’ impudent smile with her damp palm. She jealously watched him when the ladies of her acquaintance were especially kind to Georges, and sulked at him if he often left the house “to see his comrades.”

Vera Alekseevna considered herself a woman of strict virtue, and not a single cloud overshadowed her marital happiness. She valued her reputation, considered her husband a “good old man” and avoided the dangers of infatuation; but this tempting game with the “chick,” a game that could not be the subject of gossip, beckoned her. She wanted only knightly adoration, she did not even think about anything else, and at the same time, to her amazement, she felt that her heart was beating like a bird in a cage when she felt the proximity of the young man’s hot breath. She liked to play with Georges, sometimes causing a flush of excitement on his cheeks, sometimes pouring cold water strict morals. She herself did not notice how little by little she became captivated by this young man with the curiosity of an unsatisfied wife and with the calculation of an experienced socialite, confident that this passion would not disturb the peace of life. Yes, finally, it’s so piquant to see such a fresh, unspoiled boy always around you! He is still an innocent boy, and isn’t it up to her, a thirty-three-year-old woman, to always keep him on that border of respectful adoration, which does not go beyond the color of excitement and timid kisses? After all, she is not a young girl!..

So, deceiving herself, driving away from herself with a contemptuous grin any thought that Georges had become somehow dangerously close to her, she often kept him at home in the evenings and, saying she was sick, put on a hood, let down her hair and, lying on the couch, forced him to Georges read French novels aloud to her.

At first, these “readings” proceeded quite calmly, interrupted by her son’s kisses and mother’s kisses, but one day, when Vera Alekseevna, sticking out her little foot in a tiny shoe, played with her toe too quickly and looked too expressively with her beautiful blue eyes, the “reading” " ended so unexpectedly that when the next morning Georges, as if nothing had happened, respectfully approached the pen "ma tante", Vera Alekseevna shyly lowered her eyes, for a long time could not raise them to the sweet boy and did not let him into her eyes whole Sunday.

However, on the very first evening, when Georges came from the establishment, she again invited him to read, although she warned him, laughing slyly and lightly pinching his ear, so that he would not be a nasty boy.

The senator, as usual, sat in his office with books and maps and was sincerely glad that his wife had recently become a homebody and was in a good mood.

Debts entangled the young man in a thick net. They demanded payment and threatened to complain to the authorities. Georges wrote to his mother, but the money he sent was a drop in the ocean. He decided to tell his aunt about his debts; she was amazed at the figure of the debt, jealously interrogated with the pickiness of a mistress where the “boy” spent so much money, and paid his debts, making the debt herself and taking a solemn oath from him that he would never dine with “these creatures.” And, in order to reward him and learn the very charm of dinner in a restaurant, she once went with Georges to the restaurant in a hired carriage and admired Georges’ surprise that “ma tante” was even more delightful after drinking a bottle of champagne together. They reveled like good comrades, she with the curiosity of unknown pleasure, he with the triumph of a happy lover. They were having fun, besides, they were both tipsy and, when they parted, they agreed to try having dinner together again.

Although Vera Alekseevna often paid Georges’ debts, in the end the debts accumulated to the respectable sum of a thousand rubles. Georges counted on his aunt and did not particularly care about what lay ahead. A few more months and he will be an officer, and then everything will go like clockwork.

This was two months before graduation. Rich comrades were going to have a wonderful revelry with dessert in the form of one famous Frenchwoman who agreed to recline on the table au naturel. It was decided to have a feast on the coming Sunday. Of course, Rastegai-Sapozhkov had to be there, it was for some fifty rubles. Unfortunately, they were not there, there was nowhere to occupy them: my aunt, as if on purpose, left for Moscow a few days before. To ask his comrades, to admit that he was at a loss about such a trifle, because it was... a shame, such a shame that there was no point in thinking about it... He asked the porter, the soldiers, the captain, and was ready to give a receipt for fifty rubles for five hundred, but didn’t get the money: they didn’t give it to him, despite the most ingratiating requests.

Georges was in despair, real despair. Not to be at a party, to be absent, to be told that the poor fellow has no money - is it possible to endure such a shame, just a shame! No matter how cowardly Georges was with his uncle, he decided to turn to him and for this purpose went to the senator on Sunday morning. Unfortunately, my uncle was not at home. They told him that he left in the morning. He walked around the hall in excitement, looking at his watch. It's already the first hour. It's a shame. He began to walk again, now listening to the sound of carriages, now going to the window. He moved into his uncle’s large office - from there you’ll soon see his uncle’s carriage! The hour has struck. He came in again, cursing the senator for taking a long time to travel. And he had to leave! I would sit at my desk, behind my stupid books. Mechanically he looked at the large table - books everywhere, just books, but below, under one of the books, he noticed a case. What is this? White Eagle Star (67). That's right, you forgot to hide it in the chest of drawers? These things are always in the chest of drawers. However, my uncle was so absent-minded... He once hid the diamond star of Alexander Nevsky (67) somewhere so that when it was time to put it on, the star could not be found anywhere and only after several hours of general searching it was found in a Chinese box, where there were chess. And this beautiful star of the White Eagle! Georges put it to his chest. It goes, nothing! However, half past two struck. The devil knows why this “bald devil” isn’t going! He turned the star in his hands, and suddenly a thought, like lightning, flashed in his head. “Take it?..” After all, no one dares to think? The mere thought of what they might think of him made him indignant. "Bad, vile!" - something whispered inside, and the blood pounded strongly into the temples. “I will mortgage, redeem and put it in its place! The question is in a day, in two. Until that time they will not miss it, but if they miss it, they will not dare to think about it”... Lord! It's already three o'clock. He quickly pulled out the case, put the star in it, put it in his pocket, turned around and saw the senator’s uncle on the threshold of the office.

From his eyes he realized that the old man had seen everything. However, perhaps it was his imagination. He decided to look again. Stern eyes looked at him from under his glasses with such contempt that Georges froze in fear.

This deadly silence lasted for several moments.

If you weren't my brother's son, I would...

The old man could not continue. He took a breath and just said in a dull voice:

Go away!

Georges rushed to his feet and tried to grab his knees with the pitiful howl of a trapped puppy.

The old man moved away with disgust, as if there was a reptile under his feet, and, sadly shaking his head, whispered:

And this is the future servant of the fatherland!? This is Rastegai-Sapozhkov... Get up! Stop lying around and listen! No one will ever know about this!.. Poor brother! - the old man whispered, wiping a tear that had rolled down from his mustache. - Correct yourself if you can, but don’t let me have your leg, do you hear!? Yes, send me a list of debts, I will pay!

Georges put the case on the table and left the office. Shame and anger weighed on him with unbearable weight.

The old man locked himself in his office and did not come out to dinner.

When the aunt arrived and asked about Georges, the old man did not order his name to be spoken. Vera Alekseevna went cold with fear and went to the establishment that same evening. Having found out what was the matter, she felt sorry for the “boy” and broke up with him, shedding tears. She saw her nephew secretly several times and was sad for a long time afterwards, remembering the hot kisses and youthful ardor of passion of her first and last lover.

It was a merry time when Georges put on a smart officer's uniform, although not the color he had dreamed of. My father did not even order me to think about him and, sending money for the first establishment, promised to send one hundred rubles a month. Then, congratulating him, he instructed him to be “an honest officer and to behave in such a way that his elders would love him, his peers would respect him, and his juniors would honor him.” Regarding the future, the general advised “George” not to count on anything. After death he will receive ten thousand, “but there is nothing to hope for in the estate, since there are many of you, but there is only one estate.”

Despite such warnings, Georges' life moved on as usual, cheerfully. In the morning, teaching, friendly breakfasts, several visits, a trotter race on Nevsky, expensive, delicate, delicious dinners, theaters, evenings, balls, nights with women... The next day the same thing, the third day the same again... Such Life sucks in like a sponge. Fun, empty, pleasant... Ladies admired him, and even cocottes believed in his debt. So he was sweet, witty, handsome and well-fed. He lived his life merrily, merrily flew along Nevsky, made visits, sat in the ballet, gave expensive bouquets, signed bills, counting on something and hoping for something. Since childhood, he had been accustomed to eating four courses and a cake, all this was always there, day after day, and it just seemed crazy to him not to eat a four-course meal and not wash it down with wine. It was equally funny for him not to sit in the front row. Everyone knows him, everyone nods their heads to him so affectionately when, slightly jingling his spurs and holding his saber, he walks with a confident, youthful gait to his chair in the first row, where he, shaking hands with his friends, feels at home. Yes, it’s better for him not to go to the theater at all than to cram into the ninth row.

Looking at Georges, shiny, ruddy, round, well-fed, always showing up at the first performances, being in society, nodding playfully to the cocottes, looking at his gray trotter, at his elegant little apartment, at his German valet, everyone considered him a rich man . Creditors still believed in the “Ryazan estate,” and Georges courted, dined, had fun and signed bills.

Georges was still stretching on his bed when one day a German handed him a letter. The mother informed about the serious illness of the father and called him to come immediately. Georges left that same day and found the general on the table and his mother in tears. It turned out that the “Ryazan estate” when divided between brothers and sisters was such a trifle that it was not worth talking about. Georges received only fifteen thousand and a share in the estate of nine thousand. He was furious. For some reason he expected a large fortune - and suddenly some fifteen thousand! He scolded the “old man” and reproached his mother. The mother cried and continued to overeat on sweets. Having coldly said goodbye to his mother, Georges arrived in St. Petersburg. The bills were already waiting for him... They threatened to file for collection. In three years as an officer, he incurred fifty thousand in debt. There was nothing to pay. Creditors finally filed for foreclosure.

Georges was forced to resign and escape from debt.

Putting on a civilian dress, Georges almost cried with frustration, looking at himself in the mirror. Of course, he is also good at civilian dress, he quickly managed to master the “state dress” and got dressed from a good tailor, but is it really a uniform?

The mother gave her favorite the last crumbs left by the general, and called him to her, to a secluded corner in the south, where they could live modestly, but Georges only snorted as he read these lines. Should he, the brilliant Rastegai-Sapozhkov, get bogged down in some province, eat lazy cabbage soup, drink sour honey for twenty kopecks and marry some stupid girl?

No! He still believed in his star and kept waiting, waiting for some extraordinary event that would give him the opportunity to show himself in all his splendor. In the meantime, life still went on as before. The situation did not change, the trotter had not yet been sold, although every morning I had to have unbearable conversations with creditors. He persuaded, threatened, lied about his mother’s condition, pointed, laughing impudently, at his beautiful torso and again rewrote and signed the promissory note with a wide, sweeping stroke, quite confident that his star had not “faded” and there was no reason for him to ruin his youth. After all, he is good, incomparably good, as they said about him in society, because he is not stupid... Should he really give up life and enter the service on a salary of fifty rubles? This thought even made him laugh. He was registered in some office, where, of course, he never looked, he also rode a trotter, but somehow he carefully peered into the faces of rich elderly widows who looked with such curiosity at handsome, broad-shouldered young people with languid eyes.

And the star rose again over the young man...

It was in the theater. Georges was sitting with his friends in a box and noticed that from the next box a dry, elderly, ugly woman of the oriental type was looking at him so intently, like a horse dealer of a stately stallion, that even Georges blushed and turned away. However " Eastern woman“She looked carefully at Georges three times and, pointing at him, whispered about something with the man who was in her box. It turned out very stupid. Georges laughed and left the theater in an out of sorts.

A few days later, Pilson, either a Jew or a Dane, a moneylender and broker who sold pianos, came to see Georges. Small, black, neat and clean, he was the faithful companion of every brilliant young man, got money, sold cigars on occasion and arranged dates. He made money and received insults; He respected the first, treated the second with contempt; More than a dozen “young men” passed through his hands, whom he arranged or put into debt. He was neat, polite, patient and knew all languages. Nobody knew how old he was; he could have been forty or thirty; he could be considered a Spaniard, a Frenchman, or a German. He called himself a Dane, but was a baptized Jew. Georges had known Mr. Pilson for a long time and frowned when he saw him.

Again? After all, you won’t give me a break, Pilson. After all, the devil knows what it is!

But Pilson, smiling, announced that he was on another matter.

Excuse me, Yegor Nikolaevich, a certain lady is very interested in you.

Hmm... I can't say very rich, but she is rich.

Keep quiet. That's right, are you going to offer some dirty tricks again?

God save me... Why?.. Very interested in you... The widow, you know, has that southern ardor... in love like a cat.

Well, to hell with her!..

Meet her, Yegor Nikolaevich... she's really worth it. Her fortune is enormous.

Does this mean applying for maintenance?

Why such words!.. Just fall in love, if you want to get married, or even so... She is waiting for you, whenever!

Get out... you bastard! - Georges suddenly flared up and stood up menacingly.

Scold in vain, Mr. Sapozhkov... in vain... I will no longer bother you personally, but I will send my attorney to collect the debt on the bill, and if I don’t receive it...

Let me introduce feed (72)!

Go away!

But Pilson knew Georges and was already out the door, not forgetting to throw the address of the “widow with southern fervor” on the table...

Georges walked anxiously around his luxurious living room. He nervously rolled his shoulders, squinted his eyes, clenched and unclenched his thin, graceful fingers. Either he would go up to the window, carefully peer at the snowy patterns on the glass, write some numbers on it with the pink nail of his little finger, then, quickly turning on his heels, he would again begin to walk with a graceful but nervous gait... He noticed the address on the table, looked at him, hid it in his pocket, ordered the horse to be brought, and rode to the address.

Lovely staircase. Magnificent apartment. Elegant living room. It was as if they were expecting him and greeted him kindly. The “Eastern lady,” Avdotya Matveevna, the widow of a tax farmer, Russian by origin, very nicely entertained the guest and looked closely at her purchase. Apparently, she was pleased with Georges and asked to visit whenever she liked. Through Pilson, a bargaining took place. For Georges, all debts were paid and two thousand a month were given, but, Pilson added, “we must not forget that a widow is jealous, as a woman at forty-five years old can be jealous... Tomorrow evening they are waiting for you for a decisive answer!”

The next day in the evening Georges went...

Maslenitsa has come again. Again, life without worries, without worries. But now this life was already worth more. I had to visit Avdotya Matveevna every day, sometimes appear with her in theaters, endure scenes of jealousy, make vows with complete confidence to forget them beyond the threshold and, at times, experience such pangs of disgust when Avdotya Matveevna, who had become ardently attached to Georges, gently stroked his cheek and gave money - that Georges hardly considered himself a happy person...

But he was unable to change his life... She pulled him towards her with an uncontrollable force, and it was just as impossible for him to refuse her as it is impossible for a drunkard to refuse wine...

The life of the sixties passed before his nose... peasant reform, general hopes, revival, but he saw nothing of it. He only knew that the reform had given him a ransom (73), and that some, God knows, students were writing books there... He wanted a career, but was afraid of work... If he had been immediately made a fellow minister, he would have , perhaps, I would be ready to “sign the papers”, otherwise I would drag my feet... God forbid! He called himself a "conservative" because he loved good linen and dress; but he did not know what a conservative was. He only believed that “liberal” was a dirty word, and that liberals should be flogged, because “they imagine”... What they imagine - he did not bother to think, but he was quite convinced that “we must have the means , but they shouldn't." In his eyes they were everything that does not go around in German dress... He read French novels, knew almost no Russian books, and once even embarrassed his friends by naively asking who Turgenev was... He condemned the public court (74) , because he could be placed next to a footman, and in general he cared little about all this... He wanted to live in such a way that everyone could see that he was living as a decent person should live. After all, you must have a decent apartment, a footman, a horse, an armchair, and dinner with good wine. He was accustomed to all this from an early age, and where it all came from and comes from - he could hardly answer accurately. Before, he knew, it was the “peasants” who gave it, but now, now... probably the same peasants. That's why they are men. They don't have to have Tedeschi's dress made... That would be funny. He who does not have funds from the peasants receives a salary... A good salary, of course, is worth taking, but a small one is not worth it, it is better to marry an old woman and wait for her to die.

Lately he liked to dream of getting a huge sum of money at once... Take, for example, a concession. He didn’t know for sure what a concession was, but he understood that it was “a very harmless thing,” and if he could get it, he wouldn’t have to visit Avdotya Matveevna. He was going to think about it seriously, bought a card Russian Empire and met middle-class businessmen. The businessmen saw that Georges was greedy, but lazy, and they only laughed at him and advised him to look after the concession, if only it would be in the hands of some woman with a penchant for languid brunettes... But Georges nevertheless sat for two hours at a card and drew a straight line across all of Siberia.

He led a desperately crazy life, gave evenings, kept expensive horses, played games, knew everyone. Nobody asked how this handsome young man lived: whether he had a fortune, whether he had received a concession, whether he was dealing in counterfeit banknotes or playing on the stock exchange. Everyone shook his hand in a friendly manner, praised his dinners, found that he was a decent person, and whispered in his ear that he was supported. He appeared everywhere: at the opera, at balls, even at the stock exchange. He learned to play. Pilson taught him.

Avdotya Matveevna scolded him. She threatened that she would not pay his debts. Then he played the role of a passionate lover. She saw that he was lying, despised him and still believed, throwing herself into his arms. She believed in this devilishly graceful fellow at her side, who smelled of health, perfume, champagne - and she paid her debts.

But the more she paid, the more insatiable Georges became, who was also carried away by some French woman and spent a lot of money on her. Again, the unchanged Pilson urgently asked for payment of fifty thousand. Georges went to see Avdotya Matveevna. She made a scene and refused. He threatened to leave her. She laughed evilly in response and said that she was not afraid of it. He left. Avdotya Matveevna cried, but did not call him: the amount was very large. And Pilson threatened again. And on one of these days, instead of money, Georges issued a bill with Avdotya Matveevna’s letterhead. He waved his signature after a fun lunch. Then I realized, I wanted to return it, but it was too late.

Three months later, a nasty scene took place in the boudoir. Avdotya Matveevna, angry with Georges for his relationship with a French cocotte, threatened to sue him.

Aren't you afraid of a scandal? After all, then you will have to tell everything, my dear! - Georges threatened, smiling.

You ungrateful scoundrel! Go away! I will pay the bill, but we are no longer strangers...

And you will do well, my beloved! And now addio, mio ​​care!..* - Georges answered, laughing cheerfully, blowing an air kiss.

* goodbye, my heart (Italian).

Georges was still waiting for someone to send for him; but a week or two passed without anyone sending for him. He chickened out. After three years of this reckless life, about Avdotya Matveevna - and suddenly nothing again. He regretted that he had not given a bill for a larger amount.

The fall downhill went quickly. Furniture, horses - everything was sold at public auction one fine day. Georges settled in a furnished room and avoided meeting his acquaintances. Again he returned to the idea of ​​a concession, scribbled several sheets of paper and hoped. After all, many people receive it. Many, and not grabbing stars from the sky, have excellent content with these concessions. Well, at least the former bosom Mishka Leshtukov, he is stupid and very stupid, but attacked for thirty thousand in allowance, thanks to the old woman who could arrange it. Why is he worse? And why didn’t he meet such an old woman?.. He was angry, mopey and consulted with third-party businessmen. They shrugged their shoulders and smiled...

Pilson no longer gave money. Avdotya Matveevna did not let Georges see her, as she had bought another Georges, fresher and younger. Georges sank lower and lower. At first a French woman sheltered him, then she drove him away... Georges was threatened by poverty, and he was surprised that he found dinner in the kitchens tasty (76)... He did not show himself on the big streets and turned away from his acquaintances. He lost weight and looked ugly. With the greed of a young wolf, he looked at the rich carriages rushing rich people. He bared his teeth angrily and dreamed of taking revenge, as if they were to blame. Once he met Aunt Vera Alekseevna. She recognized him, was embarrassed and sent twenty-five rubles. If it were not for the washerwoman, a trusting creature who became attached to Georges, he would often not have dinner. I almost had to rob her. And he robbed her...

Georges summed up the results. He is twenty-six years old. What to do?.. Nothing. What does he know? Nothing. All that remained was to enter the service... Now service seemed to him a desirable outcome... Fortunately, the northwestern region required fresh strength, Georges wrote a desperate letter to his aunt and, thanks to his uncle, became one of the Russifiers...

He didn't stay there long either. The state chest was somehow close, but the old habits had not died. He was put on trial and fired.

Then fate finally pushed him onto the path on which he had stood since his early years; he found himself in company with the same “overlooked nobles” who lacked places with “decent” content, and he had to do everything from forging counterfeit tickets to stealing pocket watches.

And what a life it was! True, there were times when Georges, lounging in his stroller, still thought that everything would change, that he would finally break free and live without fear of every policeman, but these were rare times. Stealing anything, not knowing the value of what was stolen, he was always a coward, always waiting to be caught... And he was finally captured! “Why was he captured and not Mishka Leshtukov?” - flashed through his head at the moment of enlightenment.

In a prisoner's robe, in a Dutch shirt, with tightly starched collars, with a mustache twisted into a thread, with sharpened nails, Georges sat in the dock. He grew fat, flabby, his eyes lost their former sparkle, but still he was still an “interesting brunette”, at whom the ladies stared with binoculars with curiosity. He hunched over a little and lowered his head, but when he raised it, he held it straight and looked with that bright, insolent gaze that ladies used to admire...

The prosecutor made a heated speech, calling down thunder from heaven on Georges, but Georges did not listen to the prosecutor. He looked at the audience and, noticing among them a tall, graceful brunette with gray hair, he turned away and thought.

And again, as happened in prison, pictures of the past flashed before him. Life at home, father, mother, who taught him to spy on his father, Caroline, who corrupted him, aunt, old uncle, "institution", theft of a star, then a brilliant life, trotters, kept women, then the same thing again, then poverty, service and life again without effort, without content, without purpose. And finally...

He remembered for the thousandth time that he had lived, was living, and would probably live at the expense of others, never thinking that life would oblige him to anything. After all, they didn’t tell him this when he was still small, when there was still time. Against...

And is he to blame? And is he alone?.. Didn’t a whole mass of people grow up with the same consciousness and with the same habits? Of course, this is an idle question, but why exactly is he in a prisoner’s robe, and not that spectator over there, the former bosom, who differs from Georges only in that he steals not such small sums...

Defendant Rastegai-Sapozhkov! What do you have to say in your defense? - the chairman's voice rang out.

I... I... - Georges began and stopped. - Of course, I am to blame, but which of us is not to blame? If, gentlemen of the jury, you knew my life, if you understood that I was raised specifically in order to make me a scoundrel by the age of fifteen... If my dear...

Here Georges could not continue and began to sob.

The widow of the senator, who was passing through Moscow (she was going to the Caucasus to visit her mother Mitrofania), also became emotional, began to cry and could not help but say that Georges was, after all, a “decent man” even in a prisoner’s robe.

Konstantin Stanyukovich - Jack of Hearts, read the text

Current page: 1 (book has 1 pages in total)

Marina Tsvetaeva
Jack of Hearts
A play in two acts, in verse

Characters

THE LADY OF CHERVONNAYA, 20 years old, blond. - Rose.

KING OF HEARTS, old man, gray beard.

KING OF SPACE, 30 years old, black.

JACK OF SPACE, 20 years old, black.

KNAVE OF CLUBS, 40 years old, red.

JACK OF DIAMONDS, 20 years old, black.

JACK OF CHARTS, boy, blond.

The costumes of the characters are based on the color of their suit, except for the suit of spades, which is all black. The Lady and the Kings in large cloaks. Jacks in short capes, like wings. The Jack of Hearts has a lute and the tip of a Spades’ spade is in the shape of a heart.

Act one

Throne room. Lady on the throne. Next to her, standing at attention, with a lute in his hands, is Knave. Opposite – with a huge sword at his belt – sits the King of Hearts.

First appearance

King of Hearts, Queen of Hearts, Jack of Hearts.

KING OF HEARTS

Goodbye queen. I'm going on a hike.

Without you, queen, a day is like a year for me.

I dream as soon as I step out of the house,

Scary dreams to the gray-haired king.

Good dreams, my love,

Guard the king's sleep.

The lady tilts her head.

Don't look through the crack at the carnival,

Don't forget to thread the needle

Red silk, red silk.

Don't walk in the parks in the evenings,

Don't guess on maps at night...

Your Majesty! My mind is simple:

Raised - this is how the drawbridge is raised.

Through holy service, strengthen your soul.

Don't sing songs

Don't listen to songs.

Going to church

Don't look to the right

Don't look to the left.

And may the pure virgin protect you, -

Queen queen.

The lady steps down from the throne and curtsies.

(Jack)

I honor your youth

And eyes looking straight

And lips that say “yes” and “no.”

Yours and your queen and lady

I instruct you

Jack bends his knee. The lady crouches low. The King kisses the Lady's hand. Pipes. The king leaves.

Second phenomenon

Queen, Jack.

(sitting on the throne, singing)

Valet, Valet, you are not happy!

I am the throne rose.

Jack, Jack, young Jack,

The jack of hearts is mine.

Why are you clinging, why are you waiting, when it’s a white day,

When it's a stormy midnight

Comes out with a black king for me -

The bed is amorous.

You hurry, and flatter, and whistle, and take revenge, -

What do I care about this?

Go blow your trumpet from the royal rooftops

Love to Valetov.

Trumpet, trumpet, that I love him.

That in a stormy midnight

Ready for the black king

The bed is amorous.

(Jack.)

I’m not talking about myself and about you, -

So, so as not to cry from the rain,

Yes, don’t sit idle on the throne.

My grandmother sang this song to me -

Where everyone sings. - In my land...

I don't dare sing in front of the king.

Do you like what I sing?

(absently)

Today is February, and March is just outside the door...

Boy, give me a deck of cards.

The jack moves the table, puts two candles, and puts down the cards.

(Humming, he lays out the cards.)

Your gaze is black, your gaze is keen,

There is nothing blacker in the whole world...

Boy! All four came out

I'm a six.

It means?

In our heads is the king of hearts,

A husband for me, a king for you.

May the Madonna protect him.

And at the feet is a jack of hearts.

It means?

People say - lover. However,

Our master, queen,

He claims that the cards lie.

(funny)

What cards are on the heart?

(Opens the first one.)

Black at heart is the king.

It means?

(opening the second one)

Is spades a nine?

How strange! - Well, let's see

(In a high-stretched hand there is an ace of spades.)

Sorry, queen

This means death.

The ringing of a tambourine.

The third phenomenon

The Jack of Diamonds bursts in - like the wind. There is a tambourine above your head. Having reached the Queen's throne, he bends his knee. Then lifting the mask.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

Hello, hello, queen!

Red March sent me.

I bowed my knee to you,

Queen - carnival.

Your king, holy and old,

Glory to the Lord, it’s far away.

I'm a jack and I'm without a pair

I'm a jack and I'm at your feet.

I am both a youth and a maiden,

I bring you tunes

Meetings in the depths of mirrors,

Marble fountains of the throat,

Sighs on the right, sighs on the left, -

Queen, queen,

Queen - carnival.

Red March.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

King of Diamonds.

(simply)

I am faithful to the red one.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

Oh, child, isn't that why

Bloodthirsty War

Over disheveled crops

Leads the kings on their way -

So that the young queens

Take a break from corona?

(Insolently.)

What's the point - it's so beautiful

To be holy and unyielding?

And what do you need a red one for?

Your king, long worthy

Being prey to worms?

JACK OF CHURTS

(arrogantly)

A worm is dust, a chervonets is gold.

My lady is rich

And Red March will cry.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

Hm... From which Spartan desks?

You are talking this harmful nonsense,

Is my young cardboard knight?

JACK OF CHURTS

(with a bow)

Much honor. I'm in red

Their Majesties are a jack.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

Knave, in love with the queen,

So God commanded, so do I.

But I’m stupid, we swear by the virgin,

Jack in love with the king!

(laughing)

Don't look through the crack at the carnival...

Red silk, red silk...

JACK OF DIAMONDS

(closer, flattering)

Little Red Riding Hood, listen to the wolf:

Loyalty is on the shelf, fidelity is on the shelf...

(Decisively.)

Your king is gray-haired, toothless,

You are like a rose has blossomed.

I raise a violent tambourine

Here's to the deeds of diamonds!

(Hugs him, wants to kiss him, the Lady flicks him on the nose, he runs out laughing and ringing.)

The fourth phenomenon

Enter the Jack of Clubs. Forty years old. Shaved, stocky, square. White shoes have black club bows. In his hand is a black shamrock. Queen, Jack of Clubs, Jack of Hearts.

JACK OF CLUBS

(creaky, like a lesson learned)

Praise be to the empress - prudent, although young.

Long live the Empress for many, many moons to come!

Let them glorify the Empress - what do you mean? Come on, hurry up

wobbled? – strings.

(Handing her a flower.)

And this, empress, means Fortune.

May the empress of the evil Cupid not be stung by arrows...

(Rough.)

And now, madam, let's get down to business.

Time is money, even for young queens.

(Introduces himself.)

The jack of clubs is the jack of clubs.

In English, money

In our opinion, it’s the treasury.

My king is alone on the throne.

And he needs a wife.

The old woman told him fortune on the coffee grounds,

So that he can marry the queen of hearts,

And with me he sends his betrothed

List of movable and immovable property.

(Pulls out a scroll from his bosom.)

I have no skill

In reading. -

(Chervonny.)

Read, Valet.

JACK OF CLUBS

(giving Chervonny a scroll)

All: from here to here.

I won't listen for a long time.

JACK OF CLUBS

(Chervonny)

JACK OF CHURTS

(with imaginary solemnity)

Sands and ores.

How – sands?

JACK OF CLUBS

Well, yes, sands.

I think I'm dying of boredom

Like an old man’s sermon!

JACK OF CLUBS

Continue.

JACK OF CHURTS

(Also)

Sands and quartz.

Lord, there are sands again!

JACK OF CLUBS

My temples hurt.

JACK OF CHURTS

Colorado. Mines.

Steel, cast iron, iron, sulfur.

JACK OF CLUBS

(enjoying)

My king is rich beyond measure.

JACK OF CHURTS

Argentina. Chile. Peru.

(to the Jack of Clubs)

Your king has gone crazy!

JACK OF CHURTS

El Callao.

I am ill!

JACK OF CHURTS

Mexico. Siam. Canada.

Venezuela.

Worse than hell

Worse than the church!

JACK OF CHURTS

Californian.

(Jack of Hearts)

(To the Jack of Clubs.)

Your king is a fool!

JACK OF CLUBS

(scared)

What do I hear?

(with increasing heat)

Your king is a fool and a liar!

That's not how they write to beauties!

Better with cats on the roof,

Than with a lackey down the aisle!

JACK OF CLUBS

My lord...

(interrupting)

They don't write like that!

JACK OF CLUBS

(throwing up his hands)

Here's the lectern for you!

My lord is full of passion...

I hear you. - Out of my sight!

The Jack of Clubs, pulling his head into his shoulders, instantly and clumsily runs out.

JACK OF CHURTS

(burning a scroll on a candle, laughing)

Is the sun afraid of chervonets?

Knock on the door three times - with iron.

SCENE FIFTH

Silent scene.

The door opens. Jack of spades with spade. Silently stretches along the wall. At the sight of him, the Jack of Hearts stands up. During the entire scene he stands at the Lady's throne with his arms crossed. Behind the Jack of Spades is the King of Spades. At the sight of him, the Lady raises her head and - with her eyes half closed - like a pillar - like a sleepwalker - walks towards him. Kiss.

Act two

First appearance

Night. Royal Garden. A huge round tree in bloom. On the left, in the corner, there is a gazebo. Behind the tree, half hidden by branches, is the Jack of Clubs. From Bubnovy, from a tree, only legs. Enter the Jack of Spades.

JACK OF SPADES

Clubs - what do you say?

JACK OF CLUBS

(coming out from behind a tree)

What will I say?

Missed the lady!

In love with him like a cat:

They drink together and sleep together.

Ugliness! Debauchery!

JACK OF DIAMONDS

It’s just that the baby is growing up.

Everything is as it should be: there is war there,

Here is an unfaithful wife,

There are soldiers and gray hairs,

Here's a fun conversation.

Husband - from the bedroom, into the bedroom - a thief...

JACK OF CLUBS

Ugliness! - A shame!

JACK OF DIAMONDS

A wonderful picture!

Throne. Cunning. Passion. Dagger.

And the sweetest thing is the finale:

Who was late for the wedding?

He's in time for the christening.

The husband is at the gate, the thief is at the window...

JACK OF SPADES

(irritated)

Shut up, spindle!

(Persistently.)

Is the black king the enemy of us all?

JACK OF CLUBS

JACK OF SPADES

Do we hate him?

JACK OF CLUBS

JACK OF SPADES

The red king, glorious and gray,

He is dishonored.

JACK OF CLUBS

I have no business -

Which of them - by whom - is dishonored.

I was promised a price for her,

For the madam, and the madam

Suddenly she went on a spree - no courtage.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

(jumping up)

The mask is my decoration

The wind is my master

I have only one enemy:

Damn consistency.

JACK OF SPADES

There is a Judas in every woman!

JACK OF DIAMONDS

That's it, spades suit!

You look in the evening - it’s a whim,

In the morning - fatal passion.

For infidelity to your spouse -

Furious loyalty to a friend,

Shared table and general sleep,

The same rings, the same vows,

The same stone, damned one,

Triumphant law.

JACK OF SPADES

To the point, to the point, to the point, to the point!

Who will plunge a dagger into him?

JACK OF DIAMONDS

(pointing to his clothes)

No way! Red on white

I have enough!

JACK OF SPADES

(furious)

Master! Krasnobay pretender!

Coward of diamonds, conspirator!

(Clubs.)

Clubs, will you uphold the honor of the jack?

JACK OF CLUBS

Today it’s an honor, tomorrow you’ll be sent to the unit.

Little honor! - It’s not this one that takes revenge

Revenge - the suit of clubs.

Our revenge, yes our honor -

Weave golden nets, -

It's better than a sword.

(Almost in a whisper.)

Looking around, aside

In a whisper, in specie

Yes on stamp paper -

Our clubs revenge!

(Loud.)

Kira wins - Croesus.

JACK OF SPADES

Coward of clubs!

JACK OF CLUBS

(modestly)

Clubs, I'm sober.

JACK OF SPADES

(twitching - almost dancing)

Black is the cloak and black is the look.

Black from head to toe.

There is poison in the black veins,

The point of this peak is

My black heart.

Yes, attack from around the corner

And then laugh to your heart's content -

This passion

This is the suit of spades.

Whose will he take? - I took mine!

Evil for evil.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

With anger you are like a balloon, inflated.

Hey, don't burst!

JACK OF SPADES

JACK OF CLUBS

Quiet, sir!

They run away.

Second phenomenon

On the left - from behind the gazebo. – Queen and Jack of Hearts. The Lady has a huge black necklace and matching wrists. Jack has a lute in his hands. The lady leans lightly on his shoulder.

Queen, Jack of Hearts.

Do you like my new one

Lord?

Not a jack

Talk about the king.

Well, this is a necklace

Do you like it? Wrist

Wear it for good luck.

(cosy)

Well, let's forget for an hour,

Who are we. If you want, we'll just -

Very old friends?

Yes? Agree?

Queen,

I have long forgotten who I am.

I remember who you are.

You are persistent.

(with a bow)

I'm conquered.

(half-closed eyes, blissfully)

Ah, I remember the first time

He came in, thin and languid...

I didn't lower my eyes

I stood up to meet him.

(stone)

I don't remember anything.

You stood with your arms crossed...

God, how pale you have become

What's wrong with you? - White as chalk!

Empress, in science

Tender passion - there is a department:

Death. All science is passion in him.

Fully invite misfortune!

You are whiter than linen!

(smiling wryly)

If paleness is boring to you,

Paint my cheeks red.

(perky)

And I'll paint it!

(bowing)

Your will.

Here's a kiss!

You're as impudent as a boy

Like a monkey!

Like a jack.

(Suddenly, as if taking in air.)

Jokes aside. - There's something wrong

In a palace. The Jacks are grumbling.

CONSPIRACY! - Deception! - Treason!

(scared)

For the life of the one

Who is for you more valuable than life.

But the King has been warned.

It's almost midnight. Exactly at midnight

The king will give you a signal.

His black cloak is like a sail,

His black horse is like a whirlwind.

The dawn will find you in paradise, -

Outside the kingdom.

(scared)

At midnight?

At midnight.

The king returns and asks:

“Where is your queen

And your spouse?” -

I will answer:

The black whirlwind carried her away. -

The meeting place is a red bush.

Rose of the Royal Mouth

It will be a reward for the boy.

Here, take her!

(Reaches towards him.)

(moving away, quietly)

No need...

The lady reaches out again.

(pulling away, stone-faced)

He is the king, the empress, I am the jack.

You and I, madam, are not happy.

The first strike of midnight. Signal.

(fever)

Lord, have mercy, help! I'm coming!

I am a great sinner, I will burn in hell.

He will, he will, he will kiss me!

I will not forget you. I loved you like a mother.

Why are you standing there like a pillar? Shout “viva”!

I am a great sinner, I have a direct road to hell.

His cloak is like a sail. He is a villain, a sorcerer, a ghoul.

And then I will repent, and then I will go to a monastery.

I'll pray, pray, pray. No, it's all a game.

This is a dream I have.

Empress, it's time for you.

In the distance there is the clatter of a horse.

It's time! Goodbye! Do you hear the stomping from the black thickets?

(He runs, drops his cloak as he runs. Jack, picking it up, drops his lute. It breaks.)

(raising his cloak)

And for the jack as a keepsake, and for the jack as a shroud - a cloak.

(Pushes away the broken lute with his foot.)

The third phenomenon

Jack, wrapped in a cloak, is singing on the steps in the gazebo.

In the meadows there is night dampness,

In the hearts - love smoke.

To everyone who has grown up and not grown up,

Who we love and who we don’t love.

To everyone who celebrates, who cries,

To everyone who is straight and who is hunchbacked,

To everyone who sleeps and to everyone who jumps -

In this dark hour: – Vivat!

Scary old woman - old age,

You won't touch my lips...

His black cloak is like a sail,

His black horse is like a whirlwind...

These cards told fortunes.

No one is to blame here.

My life is aeternum vale! 1
Goodbye forever! (lat.)

Rose from the throne - viva!

(Lies prone.)

The fourth phenomenon

Jack of Hearts, Jack of Spades. Out of the darkness, stealthily, is the Jack of Spades. In his hands is a lance.

JACK OF SPADES

(whisper)

The bird is on a branch,

Children - in the gazebo

They praise the Father.

Here you go, birds, into the net,

So, kiss me on the mouth, my friends!

(Not noticing the Jack of Hearts, he runs up the steps to the gazebo.)

A second of silence.

(Furious.)

One hundred and forty devils! - The cage is empty!

(Stumbles over Valetov’s cloak as he runs.)

Damn, who's there? - A? - You, my friend!

Slave! Informer! Scum! Puppy!

Die at the black feet!

(Stabs him with a pike.)

Hey, over here! Bubnovy! Clubs!

JACK OF CHURTS

(rising up)

Queen of queens...

Lady of the heart... Rose of roses...

The black whirlwind carried her away!

(He opens his cloak like wings.)

Fifth appearance

Silent scene.

Jack of clubs with lantern. Behind him - from afar - is Bubnovy in a mask. The Jack of Clubs tilts the lantern towards Chervonny's face. Bubnovy, stretching his neck, brings his finger to his lips.

CHARACTERS

THE LADY OF CHERVONNAYA, 20 years old, blond. - Rose.
KING OF HEARTS, old man, gray beard.
KING OF SPACE, 30 years old, black.
JACK OF SPACE, 20 years old, black.
KNAVE OF CLUBS, 40 years old, red.
JACK OF DIAMONDS, 20 years old, black.
JACK OF CHARTS, boy, blond.

The costumes of the characters are based on the color of their suit, except for the suit of spades, which is all black. The Lady and the Kings in large cloaks. Jacks in short capes, like wings. The Jack of Hearts has a lute and the tip of a Spades' spade is in the shape of a heart.

ACT ONE

Throne room. Lady on the throne. Next to her, standing at attention, with a lute in his hands, is Knave. Opposite - with a huge sword at his belt - sits the King of Hearts.

SCENE ONE

King of Hearts, Queen of Hearts, Jack of Hearts.

KING OF HEARTS

Goodbye queen. I'm going on a hike.
Without you, queen, a day is like a year for me.
I dream as soon as I step out of the house,
Scary dreams for the gray-haired king.
Good dreams, my love,
Guard the king's sleep.

The lady tilts her head.

Don't look through the crack at the carnival,
Don't forget to thread the needle
Red silk, red silk.
Don't walk in the parks in the evenings,
Don’t guess on maps at night...

Your Majesty! My mind is simple:
Raised - so the drawbridge is raised.

Through holy service, strengthen your soul.
Don't sing songs
Don't listen to songs.
Going to church
Don't look to the right
Don't look to the left.
And may the pure virgin protect you, -
Queen queen.

The lady steps down from the throne and curtsies.

KING
(Jack)

I honor your youth
And eyes looking straight
And lips that say yes and no.
Yours and your queen and lady
I instruct you
Jack.

Jack bends his knee. The lady crouches low. The King kisses the Lady's hand. Pipes. The king leaves.

PHENOMENA SECOND

Queen, Jack.

LADY
(sitting on the throne, singing)

Valet, Valet, you are not happy!
I am the throne rose.
Jack, Jack, young Jack,
The jack of hearts is mine.

Why are you clinging, why are you waiting, when it’s a white day,
When it's a stormy midnight
Comes out with a black king for me -
The bed is amorous.
You hurry, and flatter, and whistle, and take revenge, -
What do I care about this?
Go blow your trumpet from the royal rooftops
Love to Valetov.
Trumpet, trumpet, that I love him.
That in a stormy midnight
Ready for the black king
The bed is amorous.

(Jack.)

I’m not talking about myself and about you, -
So, so as not to cry from the rain,
Yes, don’t sit idle on the throne.
My grandmother sang this song to me -
Where everyone sings. - In my land...
I don't dare sing in front of the king.
Do you like what I sing?

LADY
(absently)

Today is February, and March is just outside the door...
Boy, give me a deck of cards.

The jack moves the table, puts two candles, and puts down the cards.
(Humming, he lays out the cards.)

Your gaze is black, your gaze is keen,
There is nothing blacker in the whole world...
Boy! All four came out
I'm a six.
It means?

In our heads is the king of hearts,
A husband for me, a king for you.
May the Madonna protect him.
And at the feet is a jack of hearts.
It means?

People say - lover. However,
Our master, queen,
He claims that the cards lie.

LADY
(funny)

What cards are on the heart?

(Opens the first one.)

Black at heart is the king.
It means?

LADY
(opening the second one)

Is spades a nine?

Passion.

How strange! - Well, let's see
Third.

(In a high-stretched hand there is an ace of spades.)

Sorry, queen
This means death.

The ringing of a tambourine.

PHENOMENA THIRD

The Jack of Diamonds bursts in - like the wind. There is a tambourine above your head. Having reached the Queen's throne, he bends his knee. Then lifting the mask.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

Hello, hello, queen!
Red March sent me.
I bowed my knee to you,
Queen - carnival.

Your king, holy and old,
Glory to the Lord, it’s far away.
I'm a jack and I'm without a pair
I'm a jack and I'm at the feet.

I am both a youth and a maiden,
I bring you tunes
Meetings in the depths of mirrors,
Marble fountains of the mouth,
Sighs on the right, sighs on the left, -
Queen, queen,
Queen - carnival.

Red March.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

King of Diamonds.

LADY
(simply)

I am faithful to the red one.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

Oh, child, isn't that why
Bloodthirsty War
Over the disheveled crops
Leads the kings on their way -
So that the young queens
Take a break from corona?

(Insolently.)

What's the point - it's so beautiful
To be holy and unyielding?
And what do you need a red one for?
Your king, long worthy
Being prey to worms?

JACK OF CHURTS
(arrogantly)

A worm is dust, a chervonets is gold.
My lady is rich
And Red March will cry.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

Hm... From which Spartan desks?
You are talking this harmful nonsense,
Is my young cardboard knight?

JACK OF CHURTS
(with a bow)

Much honor. I'm in red
Their Majesties are a jack.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

Knave, in love with the queen,
So God commanded, and so do I.
But I’m stupid, we swear by the virgin,
Jack in love with the king!

LADY
(laughing)

Don't look through the crack at the carnival...
Red silk, red silk...

JACK OF DIAMONDS
(closer, flattering)

Little Red Riding Hood, listen to the wolf:
Loyalty is on the shelf, fidelity is on the shelf...

(Decisively.)

Your king is gray-haired, toothless,
You are like a rose has blossomed.
I raise a violent tambourine
Here's to the deeds of diamonds!

(Hugs him, wants to kiss him, the Lady flicks him on the nose, he runs out laughing and ringing.)

SCENE FOUR

Enter the Jack of Clubs. Forty years old. Shaved, stocky, square. White shoes have black club bows. In his hand is a black shamrock. Queen, Jack of Clubs, Jack of Hearts.

JACK OF CLUBS
(creaky, like a lesson learned)

Praise be to the empress - prudent, although young.
Long live the Empress for many, many moons to come!
Let them glorify the Empress - what do you mean? Come on, hurry up
wobbled? - strings.

(Handing her a flower.)

And this, empress, means Fortune.
May the empress of the evil Cupid not be stung by arrows...

(Rough.)

And now, madam, let's get down to business.
Time is money, even for young queens.

(Introduces himself.)

The jack of clubs is the jack of clubs.

In English, money
And in our opinion - the treasury.
My king is alone on the throne.
And he needs a wife.

The old woman told him fortune on the coffee grounds,
So that he can marry the queen of hearts,
And with me he sends his betrothed
List of movable and immovable property.

(Pulls out a scroll from his bosom.)

I have no skill
In reading. -

(Chervonny.)

Read, Valet.

JACK OF CLUBS
(giving Chervonny a scroll)

All: from here to here.

I won't listen for a long time.

JACK OF CLUBS
(Chervonny)

Get started.

JACK OF CHURTS
(with imaginary solemnity)

Sands and ores.

How - sands?

JACK OF CLUBS

Well, yes, sands.

I think I'm dying of boredom
Like an old man’s sermon!

JACK OF CLUBS

Continue.

JACK OF CHURTS
(Also)

Sands and quartz.

Lord, there are sands again!

JACK OF CLUBS

Uruguay.

My temples hurt.

JACK OF CHURTS

Colorado. Mines.
Steel, cast iron, iron, sulfur.

JACK OF CLUBS
(enjoying)

My king is rich beyond measure.

JACK OF CHURTS

Argentina. Chile. Peru.

LADY
(to the Jack of Clubs)

Your king has gone crazy!

JACK OF CHURTS

El Callao.

I am ill!

JACK OF CHURTS

Mexico. Siam. Canada.
Venezuela.

Worse than hell
Worse than the church!

JACK OF CHURTS

Tolchei
Californian.

LADY
(Jack of Hearts)

(To the Jack of Clubs.)

Your king is a fool!

JACK OF CLUBS
(scared)

What do I hear?

LADY
(with increasing heat)

Your king is a fool and a liar!
That's not how they write to beauties!
Better with cats on the roof,
Than with a lackey down the aisle!

JACK OF CLUBS

My lord...

LADY
(interrupting)

They don't write like that!

JACK OF CLUBS
(throwing up his hands)

Here's the lectern for you!
My lord is full of passion...

I hear you. - Out of my sight!

The Jack of Clubs, pulling his head into his shoulders, instantly and clumsily runs out.

JACK OF CHURTS
(burning a scroll on a candle, laughing)

Is the sun afraid of chervonets?

Knock on the door three times - with iron.

SCENE FIFTH

Silent scene.
The door opens. Jack of spades with spade. Silently stretches along the wall. At the sight of him, the Jack of Hearts stands up. During the entire scene he stands at the Lady's throne with his arms crossed. Behind the Jack of Spades is the King of Spades. At the sight of him, the Lady raises her head and - with her eyes half closed - like a pillar - like a sleepwalker - walks towards him. Kiss.

A curtain.

ACT TWO

SCENE ONE

Night. Royal Garden. A huge round tree in bloom. On the left, in the corner, there is a gazebo. Behind the tree, half hidden by branches, is the Jack of Clubs. From Bubnovy, from a tree, only legs. Enter the Jack of Spades.

JACK OF SPADES

Clubs - what do you say?

JACK OF CLUBS
(coming out from behind a tree)

What will I say?
Missed the lady!
In love with him like a cat:
They drink together and sleep together.
Ugliness! Debauchery!

JACK OF DIAMONDS

It’s just that the baby is growing up.
Everything is as it should be: there is war there,
Here is an unfaithful wife,
There are soldiers and gray hairs,
Here's a fun conversation.
Husband - from the bedroom, into the bedroom - a thief...

JACK OF CLUBS

Ugliness! - A shame!

JACK OF DIAMONDS

A wonderful picture!
Throne. Cunning. Passion. Dagger.
And the sweetest thing is the finale:
Who was late for the wedding?
He's in time for the christening.
The husband is at the gate, the thief is at the window...

JACK OF SPADES
(irritated)

Shut up, spindle!

(Persistently.)

Is the black king the enemy of us all?

JACK OF CLUBS

JACK OF SPADES

Do we hate him?

JACK OF CLUBS

JACK OF SPADES

The red king, glorious and gray,
He is dishonored.

JACK OF CLUBS

I have no business -
Which of them - by whom - is dishonored.
I was promised a price for her,
For the madam, and the madam
Suddenly she went on a spree - no courtage.

JACK OF DIAMONDS
(jumping up)

The mask is my decoration
The wind is my master
I have only one enemy:
Damn consistency.

JACK OF SPADES

There is a Judas in every woman!

JACK OF DIAMONDS

That's it, spades suit!
You look in the evening - it’s a whim,
In the morning - fatal passion.
For infidelity to your spouse -
Furious loyalty to a friend,
Common table and common sleep,
The same rings, the same vows,
The same stone, damned one,
Triumphant law.

JACK OF SPADES

To the point, to the point, to the point, to the point!
Who will plunge a dagger into him?

JACK OF DIAMONDS
(pointing to his clothes)

No way! Red on white
I have enough!

JACK OF SPADES
(furious)

Knew!
Master! Krasnobay pretender!
Coward of diamonds, conspirator!
(Clubs.)
Clubs, will you uphold the honor of the jack?

JACK OF CLUBS

Today it’s an honor, tomorrow you’ll be sent to the unit.
Little honor! - It’s not this one that takes revenge
Revenge - the suit of clubs.
(Lowering his voice.)
Our revenge, yes our honor -
Weave golden nets, -
It's better than a sword.
(Almost in a whisper.)
Looking around, aside
In a whisper, in specie
Yes on stamp paper -
Our clubs revenge!
(Loud.)
Kira wins - Croesus.

JACK OF SPADES

Coward of clubs!

JACK OF CLUBS
(modestly)

Clubs, I'm sober.

JACK OF SPADES
(twitching - almost dancing)

Black is the cloak and black is the look.
Black from head to toe.
There is poison in the black veins,
Hell.
The point of this peak is
My black heart.

Yes, attack from around the corner
And then laugh to your heart's content -
This passion
This is the suit of spades.

Whose will he take? - I took mine!
Mist.
Evil for evil.

JACK OF DIAMONDS

With anger you are like a balloon, inflated.
Hey, don't burst!

JACK OF SPADES

JACK OF CLUBS

Quiet, sir!
They're coming!

They run away.

PHENOMENA SECOND

On the left - from behind the gazebo. - Queen and Jack of Hearts. The Lady has a huge black necklace and matching wrists. Jack has a lute in his hands. The lady leans lightly on his shoulder.
Queen, Jack of Hearts.

Do you like my new one
Lord?

Not a jack
Talk about the king.

Well, this is a necklace
Do you like it? Wrist
His gift.

Wear it for good luck.

LADY
(cosy)

Well, let's forget for an hour,
Who are we. If you want, we'll just -
Very old friends?
Yes? Agree?

Queen,
I have long forgotten who I am.
I remember who you are.

You are persistent.

JACK
(with a bow)

I'm conquered.

LADY
(half-closed eyes, blissfully)

Ah, I remember the first time
He came in, thin and languid...
I didn't lower my eyes
I stood up to meet him.
Do you remember?

JACK
(stone)

I don't remember anything.

You stood with your arms crossed...
God, how pale you have become
What's wrong with you? - White as chalk!

Empress, in science
Tender passion - there is a department:
Death. All science is passion in him.

Fully invite misfortune!
You are whiter than linen!

JACK
(smiling wryly)

If paleness is boring to you,
Paint my cheeks red.

LADY
(perky)

And I'll paint it!

JACK
(bowing)

Your will.

Here's a kiss!

You're as impudent as a boy
Like a monkey!

Like a jack.
(Suddenly, as if taking in air.)
Jokes aside. - There's something wrong
In a palace. The Jacks are grumbling.
CONSPIRACY! - Deception! - Treason!

LADY
(scared)

CONSPIRACY?

For the life of the one
Who is more valuable to you than life?
But the King has been warned.
It's almost midnight. Exactly at midnight
The king will give you a signal.
His black cloak is like a sail,
His black horse is like a whirlwind.
The dawn will find you in paradise, -
Outside the kingdom.

LADY
(scared)

At midnight?

At midnight.

And when
The king returns and asks:
"Where is your queen
And your wife? -

I will answer:
The black whirlwind carried her away. -
The meeting place is a red bush.

Rose of the Royal Mouth
It will be a reward for the boy.
Here, take her!
(Reaches towards him.)

JACK
(moving away, quietly)

No need…

The lady reaches out again.

JACK
(pulling away, stone-faced)

He is the king, the empress, I am the jack.
You and I, madam, are not happy.

The first strike of midnight. Signal.

LADY
(fever)

Lord, have mercy, help! I'm coming!
I am a great sinner, I will burn in hell.
He will, he will, he will kiss me!
I will not forget you. I loved you like a mother.
Why are you standing there like a pillar? Shout “Vivat”!
I am a great sinner, I have a direct road to hell.
His cloak is like a sail. He is a villain, a sorcerer, a ghoul.
And then I will repent, and then I will go to a monastery.
I'll pray, pray, pray. No, it's all a game.
This is a dream I have.

Empress, it's time for you.

In the distance there is the clatter of a horse.

It's time! Goodbye! Do you hear the stomping from the black thickets?
(He runs, drops his cloak as he runs. Jack, picking it up, drops his lute. It breaks.)

JACK
(raising his cloak)

And for the jack as a keepsake, and for the jack as a shroud - a cloak.
(Pushes away the broken lute with his foot.)

PHENOMENA THIRD

Jack, wrapped in a cloak, is singing on the steps in the gazebo.

There is night dampness in the meadows,
In the hearts - love smoke.
To everyone who has grown up and not grown up,
Who we love and who we don’t love.

To everyone who celebrates, who cries,
To everyone who is straight and who is hunchbacked,
To everyone who sleeps and to everyone who jumps -
In this dark hour: - Vivat!

Scary old woman - old age,
You will not touch my lips...
His black cloak is like a sail,
His black horse is like a whirlwind...

These cards told fortunes.
No one is to blame here.
My life is aeternum vale!
Rose of the throne - viva!

(Lies prone.)

SCENE FOUR

Jack of Hearts, Jack of Spades. Out of the darkness, stealthily, is the Jack of Spades. In his hands is a lance.

JACK OF SPADES
(whisper)

The bird is on a branch,
Children - in the gazebo
They praise the Father.

Here you go, birds, into the net,
So, kiss me on the mouth, my friends!

(Not noticing the Jack of Hearts, he runs up the steps to the gazebo.)
A second of silence.
(Furious.)

One hundred and forty devils! - The cage is empty!

(Stumbles over Valetov’s cloak as he runs.)

Damn, who's there? - A? - You, my friend!
Slave! Informer! Scum! Puppy!
Die at the black feet!

(Stabs him with a pike.)

Hey, over here! Bubnovy! Clubs!

JACK OF CHURTS
(rising up)

Queen of queens...
Lady of the heart... Rose of roses...
The black whirlwind carried her away!
(He opens his cloak like wings.)

SCENE FIFTH

Silent scene.
Jack of clubs with lantern. Behind him - from afar - is Bubnovy in a mask. The Jack of Clubs tilts the lantern towards Chervonny's face. Bubnovy, stretching his neck, brings his finger to his lips.