Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series by Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich, 1860-1904
Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series by Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich, 1860-1904
Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series by Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich, 1860-1904
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Edition: 10
Language: English
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SECOND SERIES PLAYS ***
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
ON THE HIGH ROAD
THE PROPOSAL
THE WEDDING
THE BEAR
A TRAGEDIAN IN SPITE OF HIMSELF
THE ANNIVERSARY
THE THREE SISTERS
THE CHERRY ORCHARD
INTRODUCTION
The last few years have seen a large and generally unsystematic
mass of translations from the Russian flung at the heads and hearts
of English readers. The ready acceptance of Chekhov has been one of
the few successful features of this irresponsible output. He has
been welcomed by British critics with something like affection.
Bernard Shaw has several times remarked: "Every time I see a play
by Chekhov, I want to chuck all my own stuff into the fire."
Others, having no such valuable property to sacrifice on the altar
of Chekhov, have not hesitated to place him side by side with
Ibsen, and the other established institutions of the new theatre.
For these reasons it is pleasant to be able to chronicle the fact
that, by way of contrast with the casual treatment normally handed
out to Russian authors, the publishers are issuing the complete
dramatic works of this author. In 1912 they brought out a volume
containing four Chekhov plays, translated by Marian Fell. All the
dramatic works not included in her volume are to be found in the
present one. With the exception of Chekhov's masterpiece, "The
Cherry Orchard" (translated by the late Mr. George Calderon in
1912), none of these plays have been previously published in book
form in England or America.
The very existence of "The High Road" (1884); probably the earliest
of its author's plays, will be unsuspected by English readers.
During Chekhov's lifetime it a sort of family legend, after his
death it became a family mystery. A copy was finally discovered
only last year in the Censor's office, yielded up, and published.
It had been sent in 1885 under the nom-de-plume "A. Chekhonte," and
it had failed to pass. The Censor, of the time being had scrawled
his opinion on the manuscript, "a depressing and dirty piece,--
cannot be licensed." The name of the gentleman who held this view--
Kaiser von Kugelgen--gives another reason for the educated
Russian's low opinion of German-sounding institutions. Baron von
Tuzenbach, the satisfactory person in "The Three Sisters," it will
be noted, finds it as well, while he is trying to secure the
favours of Irina, to declare that his German ancestry is fairly
remote. This is by way of parenthesis. "The High Road," found after
thirty years, is a most interesting document to the lover of
Chekhov. Every play he wrote in later years was either a one-act
farce or a four-act drama. [Note: "The Swan Song" may occur as an
exception. This, however, is more of a Shakespeare recitation than
anything else, and so neither here nor there.]
"The Proposal" (1889) and "The Bear" (1890) may be taken as good
examples of the sort of humour admired by the average Russian. The
latter play, in another translation, was put on as a curtain-raiser
to a cinematograph entertainment at a London theatre in 1914; and
had quite a pleasant reception from a thoroughly Philistine
audience. The humour is very nearly of the variety most popular
over here, the psychology is a shade subtler. The Russian novelist
or dramatist takes to psychology as some of his fellow-countrymen
take to drink; in doing this he achieves fame by showing us what we
already know, and at the same time he kills his own creative power.
Chekhov just escaped the tragedy of suicide by introspection, and
was only enabled to do this by the possession of a sense of humour.
That is why we should not regard "The Bear," "The Wedding," or "The
Anniversary" as the work of a merely humorous young man, but as
the saving graces which made perfect "The Cherry Orchard."
"The Three Sisters" (1901) is said to act better than any other of
Chekhov's plays, and should surprise an English audience
exceedingly. It and "The Cherry Orchard" are the tragedies of doing
nothing. The three sisters have only one desire in the world, to go
to Moscow and live there. There is no reason on earth, economic,
sentimental, or other, why they should not pack their bags and take
the next train to Moscow. But they will not do it. They cannot do
it. And we know perfectly well that if they were transplanted
thither miraculously, they would be extremely unhappy as soon as
ever the excitement of the miracle had worn off. In the other play
Mme. Ranevsky can be saved from ruin if she will only consent to a
perfectly simple step--the sale of an estate. She cannot do this,
is ruined, and thrown out into the unsympathetic world. Chekhov is
the dramatist, not of action, but of inaction. The tragedy of
inaction is as overwhelming, when we understand it, as the tragedy
of an Othello, or a Lear, crushed by the wickedness of others. The
former is being enacted daily, but we do not stage it, we do not
know how. But who shall deny that the base of almost all human
unhappiness is just this inaction, manifesting itself in
slovenliness of thought and execution, education, and ideal?
J. W.
CHARACTERS
EFIMOVNA. [To NAZAROVNA] Give the old man a nudge dear! Can't get
any answer out of him.
SAVVA. What sleep can I have? If only I had the patience to endure
this pain, mother; sleep's quite another matter. A sinner doesn't
deserve to be given rest. What's that noise, pilgrim-woman?
FEDYA. And it roars and thunders, and rages, sad there's no end to
it! Hoooo ... it's like the noise of a forest. ... Hoooo. ... The
wind is wailing like a dog. ... [Shrinking back] It's cold! My
clothes are wet, it's all coining in through the open door ... you
might put me through a wringer. ... [Plays softly] My concertina's
damp, and so there's no music for you, my Orthodox brethren, or
else I'd give you such a concert, my word!--Something marvellous!
You can have a quadrille, or a polka, if you like, or some Russian
dance for two. ... I can do them all. In the town, where I was an
attendant at the Grand Hotel, I couldn't make any money, but I did
wonders on my concertina. And, I can play the guitar.
NAZAROVNA. [To SAVVA] If you'd only lie where it was warm now,
old man, and warm your feet. [Pause.] Old man! Man of God! [Shakes
SAVVA] Are you going to die?
NAZAROVNA. Don't swank, young man! Perhaps the old man is giving
back his soul to God, or repenting for his sins, and you talk like
that, and play your concertina. ... Put it down! You've no shame!
FEDYA. And what are you sticking to him for? He can't do anything
and you ... with your old women's talk ... He can't say a word in
reply, and you're glad, and happy because he's listening to your
nonsense. ... You go on sleeping, grandfather; never mind her! Let
her talk, don't you take any notice of her. A woman's tongue is
the devil's broom--it will sweep the good man and the clever man
both out of the house. Don't you mind. ... [Waves his hands] But
it's thin you are, brother of mine! Terrible! Like a dead skeleton!
No life in you! Are you really dying?
SAVVA. Why should I die? Save me, O Lord, from dying in vain. ...
I'll suffer a little, and then get up with God's help. ... The
Mother of God won't let me die in a strange land. ... I'll die at
home.
FEDYA. Well, well, well. ... You have come a long way, old man! On
foot?
SAVVA. On foot, young man. I've been to Tihon of the Don, and I'm
going to the Holy Hills. [Note: On the Donetz, south-east of
Kharkov; a monastery containing a miraculous ikon.] ... From there,
if God wills it, to Odessa. ... They say you can get to Jerusalem
cheap from there, for twenty-ones roubles, they say. ...
Sews. There are many holy places there, young man. ... Where there
are many holy places it's always a good town. ...
BORTSOV. [Goes up to the counter, to TIHON] Once more, please!
For the sake of Christ, give it to me!
BORTSOV. You don't understand me. ... Understand me, you fool, if
there's a drop of brain in your peasant's wooden head, that it
isn't I who am asking you, but my inside, using the words you
understand, that's what's asking! My illness is what's asking!
Understand!
TIHON. You can have the vodka if you pay for it.
TIHON. [Looks it over] Hm. ... There are all sorts of caps. ... It
might be a sieve from the holes in it. ...
BORTSOV. If you don't like it, then let me owe you for the drink!
I'll bring in your five copecks on my way back from town. You can
take it and choke yourself with it then! Choke yourself! I hope it
sticks in your throat! [Coughs] I hate you!
TIHON. [Banging the bar-counter with his fist] Why do you keep on
like that? What a man! What are you here for, you swindler?
BORTSOV. I want a drink! It's not I, it's my disease! Understand
that!
EFIMOVNA. It's the devil tormenting you. Don't you mind him, sir.
The damned one keeps whispering, "Drink! Drink!" And you answer
him, "I shan't drink! I shan't drink!" He'll go then.
FEDYA. It's drumming in his head. ... His stomach's leading him
on! [Laughs] Your houour's a happy man. Lie down and go to sleep!
What's the use of standing like a scarecrow in the middle of the
inn! This isn't an orchard!
FEDYA. Go on, go on! We've seen the like of you before! There's a
lot like you tramping the high road! As to being a donkey, you wait
till I've given you a clout on the ear and you'll howl worse than
the wind. Donkey yourself! Fool! [Pause] Scum!
FEDYA. Here, you cabbage-stalk, you keep quiet, even if you are in
a public-house. Just you behave like everybody else.
BORTSOV. What am I to do? What will become of me? How can I make
him understand? What else can I say to him? [To TIHON] The blood's
boiling in my chest! Uncle Tihon! [Weeps] Uncle Tihon!
SAVVA. Ask him to shed a tear for me, that I might die in Vologda.
Tearful prayers are heard.
SAVVA. Where will you find those who live in the light?
SAVVA. Yes, yes, dear friend. ... The saints lived in the light. ...
They understood all our griefs. ... You needn't even tell them. ...
and they'll understand. ... Just by looking at your eyes. ... And
then you'll have such peace, as if you were never in grief at all--
it will all go!
SAVVA. It has happened, young man. ... There are many of all sorts
on this earth. Sinners, and servants of God.
TIHON. And what is there under your coat? [Looks under it] Your
naked body? Don't take it off, I shan't have it. ... I'm not going
to burden my soul with a sin.
[Enter MERIK.]
BORTSOV. Very well, I'll take the sin on myself! Do you agree?
BORTSOV. [To TIHON] I'll take the sin on myself. Do you hear me or
don't you?
MERIK. It's as dark as if the sky was painted with pitch. You can't
see your own nose. And the rain beats into your face like a
snowstorm! [Picks up his clothes and axe.]
FEDYA. It's a good thing for the likes of us thieves. When the
cat's away the mice will play.
MERIN. We'll make a note of it. ... [Goes up to TIHON] How do you
do, you with the large face! Don't you remember me.
TIHON. If I'm to remember every one of you drunkards that walks the
high road, I reckon I'd need ten holes in my forehead.
MERIK. I call myself after whatever passport God gives me. I've
been Merik for two months. [Thunder] Rrrr. ... Go on thundering,
I'm not afraid! [Looks round] Any police here?
TIHON. What are you talking about, making mountains out of mole-hills? ...
The people here are all right ... The police are fast asleep in
their feather beds now. ... [Loudly] Orthodox brothers, mind your
pockets and your clothes, or you'll have to regret it. The man's
a rascal! He'll rob you!
MERIK. They can look out for their money, but as to their clothes--
I shan't touch them. I've nowhere to take them.
MERIK. To Kuban.
TIHON. My word!
MERIK. Happiness. ... Happiness goes behind you. ... You don't see
it. It's as near as your elbow is, but you can't bite it. It's all
silly. ... [Looking round at the benches and the people] Like a lot
of prisoners. ... A poor lot.
SAVVA. He won't touch us, mother, he won't touch us. ... God won't
let him.
EFIMOVNA. Take your great eyes away! Take away that devil's own
pride!
MERIK. Be quiet, you crooked old woman! I didn't come with the
devil's pride, but with kind words, wishing to honour your bitter
lot! You're huddled together like flies because of the cold--I'd
be sorry for you, speak kindly to you, pity your poverty, and here
you go grumbling away! [Goes up to FEDYA] Where are you from?
MERIK. Get up, right up. I'm going to lie down here.
FEDYA. You get out of this, you tramp. I'm not afraid of you.
MERIK. You're very quick with your tongue. ... Get up, and don't
talk about it! You'll be sorry for it, you silly.
TIHON. [To FEDYA] Don't contradict him, young man. Never mind.
FEDYA. What right have you? You stick out your fishy eyes and think
I'm afraid! [Picks up his belongings and stretches himself out on
the ground] You devil! [Lies down and covers himself all over.]
MERIK. Stole it. ... Stole it, and now I've got to fuss over it
like a child with a new toy; I don't like to throw it away, and
I've nowhere to put it. Like a beastly wife. ... Yes. ... [Covering
himself over] Devils aren't like that, brother.
MERIK. Like steam, like air. ... Just blow into the air. [Blows]
They're like that, you can't see them.
A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. You can see them if you sit under a
harrow.
MERIK. I've tried, but I didn't see any. ... Old women's tales, and
silly old men's, too. ... You won't see a devil or a ghost or a
corpse. ... Our eyes weren't made so that we could see everything. ...
When I was a boy, I used to walk in the woods at night on purpose
to see the demon of the woods. ... I'd shout and shout, and there
might be some spirit, I'd call for the demon of the woods and not
blink my eyes: I'd see all sorts of little things moving about, but
no demon. I used to go and walk about the churchyards at night, I
wanted to see the ghosts--but the women lie. I saw all sorts of
animals, but anything awful--not a sign. Our eyes weren't ...
THE VOICE FROM THE CORNER. Never mind, it does happen that you do
see. ... In our village a man was gutting a wild boar ... he was
separating the tripe when ... something jumped out at him!
EFIMOVNA. Hoo, hoo, hoo. ... Gracious heavens! [Covers her face]
Little Savva!
TIHON. What are you frightening them for? A great pleasure! [The
door slams in the wind] Lord Jesus. ... The wind, the wind!
NAZAROVNA. You'd better pray, you heathen! Why are you so restless?
SAVVA. Let him look, pilgrims! You pray, and his eyes won't do you
any harm.
TIHON. Go and tell that to someone else, not to me. ... Go and ask
the Orthodox, perhaps they'll give you some for Christ's sake, if
they feel like it, but I'll only give bread for Christ's sake.
BORTSOV. You can rob those wretches yourself, I shan't. ... I won't
do it! I won't! Understand? [Hits the bar-counter with his fist] I
won't. [A pause.] Hm ... just wait. ... [Turns to the pilgrim
women] It's an idea, all the same, Orthodox ones! Spare five
copecks! My inside asks for it. I'm ill!
FEDYA. Oh, you swindler, with your "spare five copecks." Won't you
have some water?
MERIK. You won't get it out of him, sir. ... He's a famous
skinflint. ... Wait, I've got a five-copeck piece somewhere. ...
We'll have a glass between us--half each [Searches in his pockets]
The devil ... it's lost somewhere. ... Thought I heard it tinkling
just now in my pocket. ... No; no, it isn't there, brother, it's
your luck! [A pause.]
MERIK. Why don't you give him a sermon, you pilgrims? And you,
Tihon, why don't you drive him out? He hasn't paid you for his
night's accommodation. Chuck him out! Eh, the people are cruel
nowadays. There's no gentleness or kindness in them. ... A savage
people! A man is drowning and they shout to him: "Hurry up and
drown, we've got no time to look at you; we've got to go to work."
As to throwing him a rope--there's no worry about that. ... A rope
would cost money.
MERIK. Go on, do as you're told! Quick now! [Pause] Do you hear me,
or don't you? Am I talking to you or the wall? [Stands up]
MERIK. I want you, you fleecer, to take the boots off me, a poor
tramp.
TIHON. Well, well ... don't get excited. Here have a glass. ...
Have a drink, now!
TIHON. The devil brought you here! [Comes out from behind the bar]
What a gentleman! Come on now. [Takes off MERIK'S boots] You child
of Cain ...
MERIK. That's right. Put them side by side. ... Like that ... you
can go now!
BORTSOV. Look here, suppose I give you something made of gold. ...
I will give it to you.
TIHON. [Examining it] Stolen property. ... All right, then, drink. ...
[Pours out vodka] Confound you.
BORTSOV. Only don't you touch it ... with your fingers. [Drinks
slowly, with feverish pauses.]
TIHON. [Opens the medallion] Hm ... a lady! ... Where did you get
hold of this?
TIHON. [Pushes his hand away] Where are you going to? You look
somewhere else!
[Several of the tramps, etc., approach the bar and form a group.
MERIK grips TIHON's hand firmly with both his, looks at the
portrait, in the medallion in silence. A pause.]
FEDYA. A real lady. ... Look at her cheeks, her eyes. ... Open your
hand, I can't see. Hair coming down to her waist. ... It is
lifelike! She might be going to say something. ... [Pause.]
MERIK. It's destruction for a weak man. A woman like that gets a
hold on one and ... [Waves his hand] you're done for!
[KUSMA'S voice is heard. "Trrr. ... Stop, you brutes!" Enter KUSMA.]
KUSMA. There stands an inn upon my way. Shall I drive or walk past
it, say? You can pass your own father and not notice him, but you
can see an inn in the dark a hundred versts away. Make way, if you
believe in God! Hullo, there! [Planks a five-copeck piece down on
the counter] A glass of real Madeira! Quick!
KUSMA. God gave us arms to wave about. Poor sugary things, you're
half-melted. You're frightened of the rain, poor delicate things.
[Drinks.]
EFIMOVNA. You may well get frightened, good man, if you're caught
on your way in a night like this. Now, thank God, it's all right,
there are many villages and houses where you can shelter from the
weather, but before that there weren't any. Oh, Lord, it was bad!
You walk a hundred versts, and not only isn't there a village; or a
house, but you don't even see a dry stick. So you sleep on the
ground. ...
KUSMA. Over seventy years! You'll soon come to crow's years. [Looks
at BORTSOV] And what sort of a raisin is this? [Staring at BORTSOV]
Sir! [BORTSOV recognizes KUSMA and retires in confusion to a corner
of the room, where he sits on a bench] Semyon Sergeyevitch! Is that
you, or isn't it? Eh? What are you doing in this place? It's not
the sort of place for you, is it?
BORTSOV. Be quiet!
KUSMA. Very.
KUSMA. His brain's all right. ... It all happened because of his
cowardice! From too much fat. First of all, children, because of a
woman. ... He fell in love with a woman of the town, and it seemed
to him that there wasn't any more beautiful thing in the wide
world. A fool may love as much as a wise man. The girl's people
were all right. ... But she wasn't exactly loose, but just ...
giddy ... always changing her mind! Always winking at one! Always
laughing and laughing. ... No sense at all. The gentry like that,
they think that's nice, but we moujiks would soon chuck her out. ...
Well, he fell in love, and his luck ran out. He began to keep
company with her, one thing led to another ... they used to go out
in a boat all night, and play pianos. ...
BORTSOV. Don't tell them, Kusma! Why should you? What has my life
got to do with them?
KUSMA. Forgive me, your honour, I'm only telling them a little ...
what does it matter, anyway. ... I'm shaking all over. Pour out
some more. [Drinks.]
BORTSOV. Oh, why tell them all about it? These people haven't any
sympathy. ... It hurts!
KUSMA. It's nothing, sir! They asked me! Why shouldn't I tell them?
But if you are angry I won't ... I won't. ... What do I care for
them. ... [Post-bells are heard.]
KUSMA. I'll tell you quietly. ... He doesn't want me to, but it
can't be helped. ... But there's nothing more to tell. They got
married, that's all. There was nothing else. Pour out another drop
for Kusma the stony! [Drinks] I don't like people getting drunk!
Why the time the wedding took place, when the gentlefolk sat down
to supper afterwards, she went off in a carriage ... [Whispers] To
the town, to her lover, a lawyer. ... Eh? What do you think of her
now? Just at the very moment! She would be let off lightly if she
were killed for it!
KUSMA. He went mad. ... As you see, he started with a fly, as they
say, and now it's grown to a bumble-bee. It was a fly then, and
now--it's a bumble-bee. ... And he still loves her. Look at him, he
loves her! I expect he's walking now to the town to get a glimpse
of her with one eye. ... He'll get a glimpse of her, and go back. ...
[The post has driven up to the in.. The POSTMAN enters and has a
drink.]
[The POSTMAN pays in silence and goes out. The post drives off, the
bells ringing.]
A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. One could rob the post in weather like
this--easy as spitting.
MERIK. I've been alive thirty-five years and I haven't robbed the
post once. ... [Pause] It's gone now ... too late, too late. ...
KUSMA. The second reason, brothers, why he was ruined was because
of his brother-in-law, his sister's husband. ... He took it into
his head to stand surety at the bank for 30,000 roubles for his
brother-in-law. The brother-in-law's a thief. ... The swindler
knows which side his bread's buttered and won't budge an inch. ...
So he doesn't pay up. ... So our man had to pay up the whole thirty
thousand. [Sighs] The fool is suffering for his folly. His wife's
got children now by the lawyer and the brother-in-law has bought an
estate near Poltava, and our man goes round inns like a fool, and
complains to the likes of us: "I've lost all faith, brothers! I
can't believe in anybody now!" It's cowardly! Every man has his
grief, a snake that sucks at his heart, and does that mean that he
must drink? Take our village elder, for example. His wife plays
about with the schoolmaster in broad daylight, and spends his money
on drink, .but the elder walks about smiling to himself. He's just
a little thinner ...
TIHON. Oh, you! Unhappy man, come and drink this! [Pours out.]
TIHON. You don't owe me anything? Just drink and drown your sorrows!
FEDYA. Drink mine, too, sir! Oh! [Throws down a five-copeck piece]
If you drink, you die; if you don't drink, you die. It's good not
to drink vodka, but by God you're easier when you've got some!
Vodka takes grief away. ... It is hot!
MERIK. Dive it here! [Takes the medallion from TIHON and examines
her portrait] Hm. Ran off after the wedding. What a woman!
A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. Pour him out another glass, Tihon. Let him
drink mine, too.
BORTSOV. Here, what's that? [Picks up the medallion] How dare you,
you beast? What right have you? [Tearfully] Do you want me to kill
you? You moujik! You boor!
BORTSOV. [Drinks] How dare he? The fool! [to MERIK] Do you
understand? You're a fool, a donkey!
SAVVA. Children! If you please! Stop that talking! What's the good
of making a noise? Let people go to sleep.
TIHON. Lie down, lie down ... be quiet! [Goes behind the counter
and locks the till] It's time to sleep.
MERIK. [Gets up and spreads his short fur and coat the bench] Come
on, lie down, sir.
MERIK. Oh, anywhere. ... The floor will do. ... [Spreads a coat on
the floor] It's all one to me [Puts the axe by him] It would be
torture for him to sleep on the floor. He's used to silk and down. ...
TIHON. [To BORTSOV] Lie down, your honour! You've looked at that
portrait long enough. [Puts out a candle] Throw it away!
BORTSOV. [Going up to the vacant place] I'm a bit ... drunk ...
after all that. ... Is this it? ... Do I lie down here? Eh?
TIHON. Yes, yes, lie down, don't be afraid. [Stretches himself out
on the counter.]
BORTSOV. [Lying down] I'm ... drunk. ... Everything's going round. ...
[Opens the medallion] Haven't you a little candle? [Pause] You're a
queer little woman Masha. ... Looking at me out of the frame and
laughing. ... [Laughs] I'm drunk! And should you laugh at a man
because he's drunk? You look out, as Schastlivtsev says, and ...
love the drunkard.
BORTSOV. [Laughs] What a woman. ... Why do you keep on going round?
I can't catch you!
TIHON. The women have ruffled his hair for him, and so he's
bristly.
MERIK. It isn't only I. ... From the beginning of the ages, since
the world has been in existence, people have complained. ... It's
not for nothing that in the songs and stories, the devil and the
woman are put side by side. ... Not for nothing! It's half true, at
any rate ... [Pause] Here's the gentleman playing the fool, but I
had more sense, didn't I, when I left my father and mother, and
became a tramp?
MERIK. Just like the gentleman ... I walked about like one of the
damned, bewitched, blessing my stars ... on fire day and night,
until at last my eyes were opened ... It wasn't love, but just a
fraud. ...
MERIK. Never you mind. ... [Pause] Do you think I killed her? ...
I wouldn't do it. ... If you kill, you are sorry for it. ... She
can live and be happy! If only I'd never set eyes on you, or if I
could only forget you, you viper's brood! [A knocking at the door.]
TIHON. Whom have the devils brought. ... Who's there? [Knocking]
Who knocks? [Gets up and goes to the door] Who knocks? Go away,
we've locked up!
THE VOICE. My lady is going to Varsonofyev from the town. ... It's
only five versts farther on . ... Do be a good man and help!
TIHON. Go and tell the lady that if she pays ten roubles she can
have her string and we'll mend the spring.
THE VOICE. Have you gone mad, or what? Ten roubles! You mad dog!
Profiting by our misfortunes!
TIHON. Just as you like. ... You needn't if you don't want to.
THE VOICE. Very well, wait a bit. [Pause] She says, all right.
TIHON. There won't be anything left over. ... Let them sleep, the
two of us can manage.
COACHMAN. Foo, I am tired! It's cold, and there's not a dry spot in
all the mud. ... Another thing, dear. ... Have you got a little
room in here for the lady to warm herself in? The carriage is all
on one side, she can't stay in it. ...
TIHON. What does she want a room for? She can warm herself in here,
if she's cold. ... We'll find a place [Clears a space next to
BORTSOV] Get up, get up! Just lie on the floor for an hour, and let
the lady get warm. [To BORTSOV] Get up, your honour! Sit up!
[BORTSOV sits up] Here's a place for you. [Exit COACHMAN.]
FEDYA. Here's a visitor for you, the devil's brought her! Now
there'll be no sleep before daylight.
TIHON. I'm sorry I didn't ask for fifteen. ... She'd have given
them. ... [Stands expectantly before the door] You're a delicate
sort of people, I must say. [Enter MARIA EGOROVNA, followed by the
COACHMAN. TIHON bows.] Please, your highness! Our room is very
humble, full of blackbeetles! But don't disdain it!
MARIA EGOROVNA. I can't see anything. ... Which way do I go?
TIHON. This way, your highness! [Leads her to the place next to
BORTSOV] This way, please. [Blows on the place] I haven't any
separate rooms, excuse me, but don't you be afraid, madam, the
people here are good and quiet. ...
MARIA EGOROVNA. [Sits next to BORTSOV] How awfully stuffy! Open the
door, at any rate!
MARIA. We're freezing, and you open the door! [Gets up and slams
it] Who are you to be giving orders? [Lies down]
TIHON. Excuse me, your highness, but we've a little fool here ... a
bit cracked. ... But don't you be frightened, he won't do you any
harm. ... Only you must excuse me, madam, I can't do this for ten
roubles. ... Make it fifteen.
TIHON. This minute ... this very instant. [Drags some string out
from under the counter] This minute. [A pause.]
MARIA EGOROVNA. Get away from me! You lie, it isn't you! It can't
be! [Covers her face with her hands] It's a lie, it's all nonsense!
MARIA EGOROVNA. Stand back! [To the COACHMAN] Denis, let's go! I
can't stop here any longer!
MERIK. [Jumps up and looks her steadily in the face] The portrait!
[Grasps her hand] It is she! Eh, people, she's the gentleman's
wife!
MARIA EGOROVNA. Get away, fellow! [Tries to tear her hand away from
him] Denis, why do you stand there staring? [DENIS and TIHON run up
to her and get hold of MERIK'S arms] This thieves' kitchen! Let go
my hand! I'm not afraid! ... Get away from me!
MARIA EGOROVNA. [Tears away her hand] Get away! Drunkards ... let's
go, Denis!
MERIK. Just throw a glance at him, with only one eye if you like!
Or say only just one kind little word to him! God's own sake!
MERIK. [Lowering his hand; he still holds the axe] Did I kill her
or no?
HIGH ROAD
MERIK. Then I didn't kill her. ... [Totters to his bed] Fate hasn't
sent me to my death because of a stolen axe. ... [Falls down and
sobs] Woe! Woe is me! Have pity on me, Orthodox people!
Curtain.
THE PROPOSAL
CHARACTERS
THE PROPOSAL
LOMOV. No, I've come only to see you, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch.
LOMOV. Well, you see, it's like this. [Takes his arm] I've come to
you, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch, to trouble you with a request.
Not once or twice have I already had the privilege of applying to
you for help, and you have always, so to speak ... I must ask your
pardon, I am getting excited. I shall drink some water, honoured
Stepan Stepanovitch. [Drinks.]
CHUBUKOV. [Aside] He's come to borrow money! Shan't give him any!
[Aloud] What is it, my beauty?
CHUBUKOV. Oh, don't go round and round it, darling! Spit it out!
Well?
LOMOV. One moment ... this very minute. The fact is, I've come to
ask the hand of your daughter, Natalya Stepanovna, in marriage.
CHUBUKOV. [Interrupting] My dear fellow ... I'm so glad, and so on. ...
Yes, indeed, and all that sort of thing. [Embraces and kisses
LOMOV] I've been hoping for it for a long time. It's been my
continual desire. [Sheds a tear] And I've always loved you, my
angel, as if you were my own son. May God give you both His help
and His love and so on, and I did so much hope ... What am I
behaving in this idiotic way for? I'm off my balance with joy,
absolutely off my balance! Oh, with all my soul ... I'll go and
call Natasha, and all that.
LOMOV. It's cold ... I'm trembling all over, just as if I'd got an
examination before me. The great thing is, I must have my mind made
up. If I give myself time to think, to hesitate, to talk a lot, to
look for an ideal, or for real love, then I'll never get married. ...
Brr! ... It's cold! Natalya Stepanovna is an excellent housekeeper,
not bad-looking, well-educated. ... What more do I want? But I'm
getting a noise in my ears from excitement. [Drinks] And it's
impossible for me not to marry. ... In the first place, I'm already
35--a critical age, so to speak. In the second place, I ought to
lead a quiet and regular life. ... I suffer from palpitations, I'm
excitable and always getting awfully upset. ... At this very moment
my lips are trembling, and there's a twitch in my right eyebrow. ...
But the very worst of all is the way I sleep. I no sooner get into
bed and begin to go off when suddenly something in my left side--
gives a pull, and I can feel it in my shoulder and head. ... I jump
up like a lunatic, walk about a bit, and lie down again, but as
soon as I begin to get off to sleep there's another pull! And this
may happen twenty times. ...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Well, there! It's you, and papa said, "Go;
there's a merchant come for his goods." How do you do, Ivan
Vassilevitch!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. You must excuse my apron and n�lig� ... we're
shelling peas for drying. Why haven't you been here for such a long
time? Sit down. [They seat themselves] Won't you have some lunch?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Then smoke. ... Here are the matches. ... The
weather is splendid now, but yesterday it was so wet that the
workmen didn't do anything all day. How much hay have you stacked?
Just think, I felt greedy and had a whole field cut, and now I'm
not at all pleased about it because I'm afraid my hay may rot. I
ought to have waited a bit. But what's this? Why, you're in evening
dress! Well, I never! Are you going to a ball, or what?--though I
must say you look better. Tell me, why are you got up like that?
LOMOV. [Excited] You see, honoured Natalya Stepanovna ... the fact
is, I've made up my mind to ask you to hear me out. ... Of course
you'll be surprised and perhaps even angry, but a ... [Aside] It's
awfully cold!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What are you talking about? Oxen Meadows are
ours, not yours!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Well, I never knew that before. How do you make
that out?
LOMOV. How? I'm speaking of those Oxen Meadows which are wedged in
between your birchwoods and the Burnt Marsh.
LOMOV. But you can see from the documents, honoured Natalya
Stepanovna. Oxen Meadows, it's true, were once the subject of
dispute, but now everybody knows that they are mine. There's
nothing to argue about. You see, my aunt's grandmother gave the
free use of these Meadows in perpetuity to the peasants of your
father's grandfather, in return for which they were to make bricks
for her. The peasants belonging to your father's grandfather had
the free use of the Meadows for forty years, and had got into the
habit of regarding them as their own, when it happened that ...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. No, you're simply joking, or making fun of me. ...
What a surprise! We've had the land for nearly three hundred years,
and then we're suddenly told that it isn't ours! Ivan Vassilevitch,
I can hardly believe my own ears. ... These Meadows aren't worth much
to me. They only come to five dessiatins [Note: 13.5 acres], and are
worth perhaps 300 roubles [Note: �30.], but I can't stand unfairness.
Say what you will, but I can't stand unfairness.
LOMOV. Mine.
LOMOV. Then you make out that I'm a land-grabber? Madam, never in
my life have I grabbed anybody else's land, and I shan't allow
anybody to accuse me of having done so. ... [Quickly steps to the
carafe and drinks more water] Oxen Meadows are mine!
LOMOV. Mine!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It's not true! I'll prove it! I'll send my
mowers out to the Meadows this very day!
LOMOV. What?
LOMOV. Mine!
LOMOV. Mine!
[Enter CHUBUKOV.]
CHUBUKOV. Excuse me, my precious. ... You forget just this, that
the peasants didn't pay your grandmother and all that, because the
Meadows were in dispute, and so on. And now everybody knows that
they're ours. It means that you haven't seen the plan.
LOMOV. I shall!
CHUBUKOV. Dear one, why yell like that? You won't prove anything
just by yelling. I don't want anything of yours, and don't intend
to give up what I have. Why should I? And you know, my beloved,
that if you propose to go on arguing about it, I'd much sooner give
up the meadows to the peasants than to you. There!
LOMOV. I don't understand! How have you the right to give away
somebody else's property?
CHUBUKOV. You may take it that I know whether I have the right or
not. Because, young man, I'm not used to being spoken to in that
tone of voice, and so on: I, young man, am twice your age, and ask
you to speak to me without agitating yourself, and all that.
LOMOV. No, you just think I'm a fool and want to have me on! You
call my land yours, and then you want me to talk to you calmly and
politely! Good neighbours don't behave like that, Stepan
Stepanitch! You're not a neighbour, you're a grabber!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Oxen Meadows are ours, and I shan't give them
up, shan't give them up, shan't give them up!
LOMOV. We'll see! I'll have the matter taken to court, and then
I'll show you!
CHUBUKOV. To court? You can take it to court, and all that! You
can! I know you; you're just on the look-out for a chance to go to
court, and all that. ... You pettifogger! All your people were like
that! All of them!
LOMOV. Never mind about my people! The Lomovs have all been honourable
people, and not one has ever been tried for embezzlement, like
your grandfather!
CHUBUKOV. You Lomovs have had lunacy in your family, all of you!
LOMOV. My left foot has gone to sleep. ... You're an intriguer. ...
Oh, my heart! ... And it's an open secret that before the last
elections you bri ... I can see stars. ... Where's my hat?
LOMOV. Here's my hat. ... My heart! ... Which way? Where's the
door? Oh! ... I think I'm dying. ... My foot's quite numb. ...
[Goes to the door.]
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What a rascal! What trust can one have in one's
neighbours after that!
CHUBUKOV. The villain! The scarecrow!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. The monster! First he takes our land and then
he has the impudence to abuse us.
CHUBUKOV. And that blind hen, yes, that turnip-ghost has the
confounded cheek to make a proposal, and so on! What? A proposal!
CHUBUKOV. What's that? What's the matter with you? [Clutches at his
head] Oh, unhappy man that I am! I'll shoot myself! I'll hang
myself! We've done for her!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What have they done to me! Fetch him back!
Fetch him! [A pause.]
CHUBUKOV. He's coming, and so on, devil take him! Ouf! Talk to him
yourself; I don't want to. ...
CHUBUKOV. [Yells] He's coming, I tell you. Oh, what a burden, Lord,
to be the father of a grown-up daughter! I'll cut my throat! I
will, indeed! We cursed him, abused him, drove him out, and it's
all you ... you!
CHUBUKOV. I tell you it's not my fault. [LOMOV appears at the door]
Now you talk to him yourself [Exit.]
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. The Meadows are yours, yes, yours. ... Do sit
down. ... [They sit] We were wrong. ...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Yes, the principle, just so. ... Now let's talk
of something else.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Yes, yes, let that pass. ... [Aside] I wish I
knew how to get him started. ... [Aloud] Are you going to start
shooting soon?
LOMOV. I don't know. ... Must have got twisted, or bitten by some
other dog. ... [Sighs] My very best dog, to say nothing of the
expense. I gave Mironov 125 roubles for him.
LOMOV. I assure you that his lower jaw is shorter than the upper.
LOMOV. He is old, but I wouldn't take five Squeezers for him. ...
Why, how can you? ... Guess is a dog; as for Squeezer, well, it's
too funny to argue. ... Anybody you like has a dog as good as
Squeezer ... you may find them under every bush almost. Twenty-five
roubles would be a handsome price to pay for him.
LOMOV. He is!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Why talk rot? It's awful! It's time your Guess
was shot, and you compare him with Squeezer!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I've noticed that those hunters argue most who
know least.
CHUBUKOV. And suppose he is? What does it matter? He's the best dog
in the district for all that, and so on.
CHUBUKOV. Don't excite yourself, my precious one. ... Allow me. ...
Your Guess certainly has his good points. ... He's pure-bred, firm
on his feet, has well-sprung ribs, and all that. But, my dear man,
if you want to know the truth, that dog has two defects: he's old
and he's short in the muzzle.
LOMOV. Excuse me, my heart. ... Let's take the facts. ... You will
remember that on the Marusinsky hunt my Guess ran neck-and-neck
with the Count's dog, while your Squeezer was left a whole verst
behind.
CHUBUKOV. He got left behind because the Count's whipper-in hit him
with his whip.
LOMOV. And with good reason. The dogs are running after a fox, when
Squeezer goes and starts worrying a sheep!
CHUBUKOV. It's not true! ... My dear fellow, I'm very liable to
lose my temper, and so, just because of that, let's stop arguing.
You started because everybody is always jealous of everybody else's
dogs. Yes, we're all like that! You too, sir, aren't blameless! You
no sooner notice that some dog is better than your Guess than you
begin with this, that ... and the other ... and all that. ... I
remember everything!
CHUBUKOV. Yes really, what sort of a hunter are you, anyway? You
ought to sit at home with your palpitations, and not go tracking
animals. You could go hunting, but you only go to argue with people
and interfere with their dogs and so on. Let's change the subject
in case I lose my temper. You're not a hunter at all, anyway!
LOMOV. And are you a hunter? You only go hunting to get in with the
Count and to intrigue. ... Oh, my heart! ... You're an intriguer!
CHUBUKOV. What? I an intriguer? [Shouts] Shut up!
LOMOV. Intriguer!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What sort of a hunter are you? You can't even sit
on a horse! [To her father] Papa, what's the matter with him? Papa!
Look, papa! [Screams] Ivan Vassilevitch! He's dead!
CHUBUKOV. Hurry up and get married and--well, to the devil with you!
She's willing! [He puts LOMOV'S hand into his daughter's] She's willing
and all that. I give you my blessing and so on. Only leave me in peace!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Wails] He's alive. . . Yes, yes, I'm willing. ...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. But ... still you will admit now that Guess is
worse than Squeezer.
LOMOV. Better!
CHUBUKOV. Well, that's a way to start your family bliss! Have some
champagne!
Curtain.
THE WEDDING
CHARACTERS
THE WEDDING
GROOMSMAN. [Chasing them] You can't go on like this! Where are you
off to? What about the _grand ronde? Grand ronde, s'il vous plait_!
[They all go off.]
APLOMBOV. You won't get out of it like that. I only found out to-day
that those tickets are in pawn. You must excuse me, _maman_, but
it's only swindlers who behave like that. I'm not doing this out of
egoisticism [Note: So in the original]--I don't want your tickets--
but on principle; and I don't allow myself to be done by anybody. I
have made your daughter happy, and if you don't give me the tickets
to-day I'll make short work of her. I'm an honourable man!
A WAITER. The cook asks if you would like the ices served with rum,
madeira, or by themselves?
APLOMBOV. With rum. And tell the manager that there's not enough
wine. Tell him to prepare some more Haut Sauterne. [To NASTASYA
TIMOFEYEVNA] You also promised and agreed that a general was to be
here to supper. And where is he?
APLOMBOV. Then you don't like to hear the truth? Aha! Oh, oh! Then
behave honourably. I only want you to do one thing, be honourable!
[Couples dancing the _grand ronde_ come in at one door and out at
the other end. The first couple are DASHENKA with one of the
GROOMSMEN. The last are YATS and ZMEYUKINA. These two remain
behind. ZHIGALOV and DIMBA enter and go up to the table.]
ZMEYUKINA. Oh, what a man! ... I've already told you that I've no
voice to-day.
YATS. I implore you to sing! Just one note! Have pity! Just one
note!
ZMEYUKINA. [Sings] "I loved you, and may love again." Is that it?
ZMEYUKINA. No, I've no voice to-day. ... There, wave this fan for
me ... it's hot! [To APLOMBOV] Epaminond Maximovitch, why are you
so melancholy? A bridegroom shouldn't be! Aren't you ashamed of
yourself, you wretch? Well, what are you so thoughtful about?
ZMEYUKINA. Foo, how vulgar you are! Don't dare to use such words!
ZMEYUKINA. Oh, leave me alone! Give me poetry, delight! Fan me, fan
me!
ZHIGALOV. [To DIMBA] Let's have another, what? [Pours out] One can
always drink. So long only, Harlampi Spiridonovitch, as one doesn't
forget one's business. Drink and be merry. ... And if you can drink
at somebody else's expense, then why not drink? You can drink. ...
Your health! [They drink] And do you have tigers in Greece?
DIMBA. Yes.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [To her husband] What are they all eating and
drinking like that for? It's time for everybody to sit down to
supper. Don't keep on shoving your fork into the lobsters. ...
They're for the general. He may come yet. ...
MOZGOVOY. [Rising] Ladies and gentlemen! I must tell you this. ...
We are going to have a great many toasts and speeches. Don't let's
wait, but begin at once. Ladies and gentlemen, the newly married!
YATS. If you'd ever seen an electric battery, and how it's made up,
you'd think differently.
DASHENKA. They want to show how educated they are, and so they
always talk about things we can't understand.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Thank God, we've lived our time without being
educated, and here we are marrying off our third daughter to an
honest man. And if you think we're uneducated, then what do you
want to come here for? Go to your educated friends!
YATS. I didn't mean ... The furniture's splendid, of course, and ...
and the dresses, but I never hinted at what they are getting
offended at.
APLOMBOV. And you go and believe him? Thank you so much! I'm very
grateful to you! [To YATS] And as for you, Mr. Yats, although you
are acquainted with me, I shan't allow you to behave like this in
another's house. Please get out of this!
THE GENTLEMEN. Leave him alone! Sit down! Is it worth it! Let him
be! Stop it now!
YATS. I never ... I ... I don't understand. ... Please, I'll go. ...
Only you first give me the five roubles which you borrowed from
me last year on the strength of a _piqu�_ waistcoat, if I may say
so. Then I'll just have another drink and ... go, only give me the
money first.
DASHENKA. [To her mother] Mama, why are you crying? I'm so happy!
YATS. Don't cry, Nastasya Timofeyevna! Just think what are human
tears, anyway? Just petty psychiatry, and nothing more!
ZMEYUKINA. No, no! You can't refuse! It's you turn! Get up!
DIMBA. [Gets up, confused] I can't say what ... Zere's Russia and
zere's Greece. Zere's people in Russia and people in Greece. ...
And zere's people swimming the sea in karavs, which mean sips, and
people on the land in railway trains. I understand. We are Greeks
and you are Russians, and I want nussing. ... I can tell you ...
zere's Russia and zere's Greece ...
[Enter NUNIN.]
NUNIN. Wait, ladies and gentlemen, don't eat now! Wait! Just one
minute, Nastasya Timofeyevna! Just come here, if you don't mind!
[Takes NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA aside, puffing] Listen ... The
General's coming ... I found one at last. ... I'm simply worn out. ...
A real General, a solid one--old, you know, aged perhaps eighty, or
even ninety.
NUNIN. This minute. When I left him he was already putting on his
goloshes. Wait a little, ladies and gentlemen, don't eat yet.
REVUNOV. Awfully!
REVUNOV. [Not hearing] What? Hm ... yes. [Pause] Yes. ... In the
old days everybody used to live simply and was happy. In spite of
my rank, I am a man who lives plainly. To-day Andrey comes to me
and asks me to come here to the wedding. "How shall I go," I said,
"when I don't know them? It's not good manners!" But he says: "They
are good, simple, patriarchal people, glad to see anybody." Well,
if that's the case ... why not? Very glad to come. It's very dull
for me at home by myself, and if my presence at a wedding can make
anybody happy, then I'm delighted to be here. ...
REVUNOV. Eh? Yes, yes. ... Quite true. ... Yes. But, excuse me,
what is this? The fish is sour ... and the bread is sour. I can't
eat this! [APLOMBOV and DASHENKA kiss each other] He, he, he ...
Your health! [Pause] Yes. ... In the old days everything was simple
and everybody was glad. ... I love simplicity. ... I'm an old man.
I retired in 1865. I'm 72. Yes, of course, in my younger days it
was different, but-- [Sees MOZGOVOY] You there ... a sailor, are
you?
REVUNOV. Aha, so ... yes. The navy means hard work. There's a lot
to think about and get a headache over. Every insignificant word
has, so to speak, its special meaning! For instance, "Hoist her
top-sheets and mainsail!" What's it mean? A sailor can tell! He,
he!--With almost mathematical precision!
YATS. It means, "I honour you, your excellency, for your virtues."
You think it's easy? Listen now. [Taps.]
REVUNOV. Louder; I can't hear. ...
REVUNOV. What madam are you talking about? Yes. ... [To MOZGOVOY]
Yes, if there's a head-wind you must ... let's see ... you must
hoist your foretop halyards and topsail halyards! The order is: "On
the cross-trees to the foretop halyards and topsail halyards" and
at the same time, as the sails get loose, you take hold underneath
of the foresail and fore-topsail halyards, stays and braces.
REVUNOV. [Cutting him short] Yes ... there are a great many orders
to give. "Furl the fore-topsail and the foretop-gallant sail!!"
Well, what does that mean? It's very simple! It means that if the
top and top-gallant sails are lifting the halyards, they must level
the foretop and foretop-gallant halyards on the hoist and at the
same time the top-gallants braces, as needed, are loosened
according to the direction of the wind ...
REVUNOV. What? Who's dull? [To MOZGOVOY] Young man! Now suppose the
ship is lying by the wind, on the starboard tack, under full sail,
and you've got to bring her before the wind. What's the order?
Well, first you whistle up above! He, he!
REVUNOV. As soon as the men are on deck you give the order, "To
your places!" What a life! You give orders, and at the same time
you've got to keep your eyes on the sailors, who run about like
flashes of lightning and get the sails and braces right. And at
last you can't restrain yourself, and you shout, "Good children!"
[He chokes and coughs.]
REVUNOV. [Not hearing] I've already had supper, thank you. Did you
say there was goose? Thanks ... yes. I've remembered the old days. ...
It's pleasant, young man! You sail on the sea, you have no worries,
and [In an excited tone of voice] do you remember the joy of
tacking? Is there a sailor who doesn't glow at the memory of that
manoeuvre? As soon as the word is given and the whistle blown and
the crew begins to go up--it's as if an electric spark has run
through them all. From the captain to the cabin-boy, everybody's
excited.
REVUNOV. [Who has not heard it properly] Thank you, I've had
supper. [With enthusiasm] Everybody's ready, and looks to the
senior officer. He gives the command: "Stand by, gallants and
topsail braces on the starboard side, main and counter-braces to
port!" Everything's done in a twinkling. Top-sheets and jib-sheets
are pulled ... taken to starboard. [Stands up] The ship takes the
wind and at last the sails fill out. The senior officer orders, "To
the braces," and himself keeps his eye on the mainsail, and when at
last this sail is filling out and the ship begins to turn, he yells
at the top of his voice, "Let go the braces! Loose the main
halyards!" Everything flies about, there's a general confusion for
a moment--and everything is done without an error. The ship has
been tacked!
REVUNOV. Did you say sausage? No, I haven't had any ... thank you.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. You know what money. You know that you got 25
roubles from Andrey Andreyevitch. ... [To NUNIN] And you look out,
Andrey! I never asked you to hire a man like that!
APLOMBOV. Just let me ask you this. Did you receive 25 roubles from
Andrey Andreyevitch?
Curtain.
THE BEAR
CHARACTERS
THE BEAR
LUKA. Well, there you are! Nicolai Mihailovitch is dead, well, it's
the will of God, and may his soul rest in peace. ... You've mourned
him--and quite right. But you can't go on weeping and wearing
mourning for ever. My old woman died too, when her time came. Well?
I grieved over her, I wept for a month, and that's enough for her,
but if I've got to weep for a whole age, well, the old woman isn't
worth it. [Sighs] You've forgotten all your neighbours. You don't
go anywhere, and you see nobody. We live, so to speak, like
spiders, and never see the light. The mice have eaten my livery. It
isn't as if there were no good people around, for the district's
full of them. There's a regiment quartered at Riblov, and the
officers are such beauties--you can never gaze your fill at them.
And, every Friday, there's a ball at the camp, and every day the
soldier's band plays. ... Eh, my lady! You're young and beautiful,
with roses in your cheek--if you only took a little pleasure.
Beauty won't last long, you know. In ten years' time you'll want to
be a pea-hen yourself among the officers, but they won't look at
you, it will be too late.
LUKA. Instead of talking like that you ought to go and have a walk
in the garden, or else order Toby or Giant to be harnessed, and
then drive out to see some of the neighbours.
POPOVA. [Looks at the photograph] You will see, Nicolas, how I can
love and forgive. ... My love will die out with me, only when this
poor heart will cease to beat. [Laughs through her tears] And
aren't you ashamed? I am a good and virtuous little wife. I've
locked myself in, and will be true to you till the grave, and you ...
aren't you ashamed, you bad child? You deceived me, had rows with
me, left me alone for weeks on end . ...
POPOVA. But didn't you tell him that since the death of my husband
I've stopped receiving?
LUKA. I did, but he wouldn't even listen; says that it's a very
pressing affair.
LUKA. I told him so, but the ... the devil ... curses and pushes
himself right in. ... He's in the dining-room now.
POPOVA. [Annoyed] Very well, ask him in. ... What manners! [Exit
LUKA] How these people annoy me! What does he want of me? Why
should he disturb my peace? [Sighs] No, I see that I shall have to
go into a convent after all. [Thoughtfully] Yes, into a convent. ...
[Enter LUKA with SMIRNOV.]
SMIRNOV. [To LUKA] You fool, you're too fond of talking. ... Ass!
[Sees POPOVA and speaks with respect] Madam, I have the honour to
present myself, I am Grigory Stepanovitch Smirnov, landowner and
retired lieutenant of artillery! I am compelled to disturb you on a
very pressing affair.
SMIRNOV. Your late husband, with whom I had the honour of being
acquainted, died in my debt for one thousand two hundred roubles,
on two bills of exchange. As I've got to pay the interest on a
mortgage to-morrow, I've come to ask you, madam, to pay me the
money to-day.
POPOVA. One thousand two hundred. ... And what was my husband in
debt to you for?
SMIRNOV. I don't want the money the day after tomorrow, I want it
to-day.
POPOVA. I can't.
POPOVA. Absolutely.
SMIRNOV. Thank you so much. I'll make a note of it. [Shrugs his
shoulders] And then people want me to keep calm! I meet a man on
the road, and he asks me "Why are you always so angry, Grigory
Stepanovitch?" But how on earth am I not to get angry? I want the
money desperately. I rode out yesterday, early in the morning, and
called on all my debtors, and not a single one of them paid up! I
was just about dead-beat after it all, slept, goodness knows where,
in some inn, kept by a Jew, with a vodka-barrel by my head. At last
I get here, seventy versts from home, and hope to get something,
and I am received by you with a "state of mind"! How shouldn't I
get angry.
SMIRNOV. I didn't come to your steward, but to you! What the devil,
excuse my saying so, have I to do with your steward!
SMIRNOV. Well, there! "A state of mind." ... "Husband died seven
months ago!" Must I pay the interest, or mustn't I? I ask you: Must
I pay, or must I not? Suppose your husband is dead, and you've got
a state of mind, and nonsense of that sort. ... And your steward's
gone away somewhere, devil take him, what do you want me to do? Do
you think I can fly away from my creditors in a balloon, or what?
Or do you expect me to go and run my head into a brick wall? I go
to Grusdev and he isn't at home, Yaroshevitch has hidden himself, I
had a violent row with Kuritsin and nearly threw him out of the
window, Mazugo has something the matter with his bowels, and this
woman has "a state of mind." Not one of the swine wants to pay me!
Just because I'm too gentle with them, because I'm a rag, just weak
wax in their hands! I'm much too gentle with them! Well, just you
wait! You'll find out what I'm like! I shan't let you play about
with me, confound it! I shall jolly well stay here until she pays!
Brr! ... How angry I am to-day, how angry I am! All my inside is
quivering with anger, and I can't even breathe. ... Foo, my word, I
even feel sick! [Yells] Waiter!
[Enter LUKA.]
SMIRNOV. Get out! [Exit LUKA] Ill and will see nobody! No, it's all
right, you don't see me. ... I'm going to stay and will sit here
till you give me the money. You can be ill for a week, if you like,
and I'll stay here for a week. ... If you're ill for a year--I'll
stay for a year. I'm going to get my own, my dear! You don't get at
me with your widow's weeds and your dimpled cheeks! I know those
dimples! [Shouts through the window] Simeon, take them out! We
aren't going away at once! I'm staying here! Tell them in the
stable to give the horses some oats! You fool, you've let the near
horse's leg get tied up in the reins again! [Teasingly] "Never
mind. ..." I'll give it you. "Never mind." [Goes away from the
window] Oh, it's bad. ... The heat's frightful, nobody pays up. I
slept badly, and on top of everything else here's a bit of fluff in
mourning with "a state of mind." ... My head's aching. ... Shall I
have some vodka, what? Yes, I think I will. [Yells] Waiter!
[Enter LUKA.]
LUKA. [Aside] The devil's come to stay. ... Bad luck that brought
him. ... [Exit.]
SMIRNOV. Oh, how angry I am! So angry that I think I could grind
the whole world to dust. ... I even feel sick. ... [Yells] Waiter!
[Enter POPOVA.]
SMIRNOV. And I told you perfectly plainly I don't want the money
the day after to-morrow, but to-day. If you don't pay me to-day,
I'll have to hang myself to-morrow.
POPOVA. I can't.
SMIRNOV. In that case I stay here and shall wait until I get it.
[Sits down] You're going to pay me the day after to-morrow? Very
well! I'll stay here until the day after to-morrow. I'll sit here
all the time. ... [Jumps up] I ask you: Have I got to pay the
interest to-morrow, or haven't I? Or do you think I'm doing this
for a joke?
SMIRNOV. I wasn't asking you about a stable, but whether I'd got my
interest to pay to-morrow or not?
POPOVA. No, you don't! You're a rude, ill-bred man! Decent people
don't talk to a woman like that!
SMIRNOV. [Teasing her] Silly and rude! I don't know how to behave
before women! Madam, in my time I've seen more women than you've
seen sparrows! Three times I've fought duels on account of women.
I've refused twelve women, and nine have refused me! Yes! There was
a time when I played the fool, scented myself, used honeyed words,
wore jewellery, made beautiful bows. I used to love, to suffer, to
sigh at the moon, to get sour, to thaw, to freeze. ... I used to
love passionately, madly, every blessed way, devil take me; I used
to chatter like a magpie about emancipation, and wasted half my
wealth on tender feelings, but now--you must excuse me! You won't
get round me like that now! I've had enough! Black eyes, passionate
eyes, ruby lips, dimpled cheeks, the moon, whispers, timid
breathing--I wouldn't give a brass farthing for the lot, madam!
Present company always excepted, all women, great or little, are
insincere, crooked, backbiters, envious, liars to the marrow of
their bones, vain, trivial, merciless, unreasonable, and, as far as
this is concerned [taps his forehead] excuse my outspokenness, a
sparrow can give ten points to any philosopher in petticoats you
like to name! You look at one of these poetic creatures: all
muslin, an ethereal demi-goddess, you have a million transports of
joy, and you look into her soul--and see a common crocodile! [He
grips the back of a chair; the chair creaks and breaks] But the
most disgusting thing of all is that this crocodile for some reason
or other imagines that its chef d'oeuvre, its privilege and
monopoly, is its tender feelings. Why, confound it, hang me on that
nail feet upwards, if you like, but have you met a woman who can
love anybody except a lapdog? When she's in love, can she do
anything but snivel and slobber? While a man is suffering and
making sacrifices all her love expresses itself in her playing
about with her scarf, and trying to hook him more firmly by the
nose. You have the misfortune to be a woman, you know from yourself
what is the nature of woman. Tell me truthfully, have you ever seen
a woman who was sincere, faithful, and constant? You haven't! Only
freaks and old women are faithful and constant! You'll meet a cat
with a horn or a white woodcock sooner than a constant woman!
POPOVA. The man! [Laughs bitterly] Men are faithful and constant in
love! What an idea! [With heat] What right have you to talk like
that? Men are faithful and constant! Since we are talking about it,
I'll tell you that of all the men I knew and know, the best was my
late husband. ... I loved him passionately with all my being, as
only a young and imaginative woman can love, I gave him my youth,
my happiness, my life, my fortune, I breathed in him, I worshipped
him as if I were a heathen, and ... and what then? This best of men
shamelessly deceived me at every step! After his death I found in
his desk a whole drawerful of love-letters, and when he was alive--
it's an awful thing to remember!--he used to leave me alone for
weeks at a time, and make love to other women and betray me before
my very eyes; he wasted my money, and made fun of my feelings. ...
And, in spite of all that, I loved him and was true to him. And not
only that, but, now that he is dead, I am still true and constant
to his memory. I have shut myself for ever within these four walls,
and will wear these weeds to the very end. ...
POPOVA. [Exploding] What? How dare you say all that to me?
SMIRNOV. You may have buried yourself alive, but you haven't
forgotten to powder your face!
SMIRNOV. Please don't shout, I'm not your steward! You must allow
me to call things by their real names. I'm not a woman, and I'm
used to saying what I think straight out! Don't you shout, either!
POPOVA. I shan't give you a farthing, just to spite you. You leave
me alone!
SMIRNOV. I do.
SMIRNOV. Give me my money. ... [Aside] Oh, how angry I am! How
angry I am!
SMIRNOV. No.
POPOVA. No?
SMIRNOV. No!
POPOVA. Very well then! [Rings, enter LUKA] Luka, show this
gentleman out!
LUKA. [Approaches SMIRNOV] Would you mind going out, sir, as you're
asked to! You needn't ...
SMIRNOV. [Jumps up] Shut up! Who are you talking to? I'll chop you
into pieces!
LUKA. [Clutches at his heart] Little fathers! ... What people! ...
[Falls into a chair] Oh, I'm ill, I'm ill! I can't breathe!
POPOVA. Where's Dasha? Dasha! [Shouts] Dasha! Pelageya! Dasha!
[Rings.]
LUKA. Oh! They've all gone out to pick fruit. ... There's nobody at
home! I'm ill! Water!
POPOVA. [Clenches her fists and stamps her foot] You're a boor! A
coarse bear! A Bourbon! A monster!
SMIRNOV. [Approaching her] May I ask what right you have to insult
me?
SMIRNOV. Pistols!
POPOVA. Do you think I'm afraid of you just because you have large
fists and a bull's throat? Eh? You Bourbon!
SMIRNOV. It's about time we got rid of the prejudice that only men
need pay for their insults. Devil take it, if you want equality of
rights you can have it. We're going to fight it out!
POPOVA. This very minute! My husband had some pistols. ... I'll
bring them here. [Is going, but turns back] What pleasure it will
give me to put a bullet into your thick head! Devil take you!
[Exit.]
SMIRNOV. I'll bring her down like a chicken! I'm not a little boy
or a sentimental puppy; I don't care about this "softer sex."
LUKA. Gracious little fathers! ... [Kneels] Have pity on a poor old
man, and go away from here! You've frightened her to death, and now
you want to shoot her!
SMIRNOV. [Not hearing him] If she fights, well that's equality of
rights, emancipation, and all that! Here the sexes are equal! I'll
shoot her on principle! But what a woman! [Parodying her] "Devil
take you! I'll put a bullet into your thick head." Eh? How she
reddened, how her cheeks shone! ... She accepted my challenge! My
word, it's the first time in my life that I've seen. ...
LUKA. Go away, sir, and I'll always pray to God for you!
POPOVA. Here are the pistols. ... But before we fight you must show
me how to fire. I've never held a pistol in my hands before.
LUKA. Oh, Lord, have mercy and save her. ... I'll go and find the
coachman and the gardener. ... Why has this infliction come on us. ...
[Exit.]
SMIRNOV. [Examining the pistols] You see, there are several sorts
of pistols. ... There are Mortimer pistols, specially made for
duels, they fire a percussion-cap. These are Smith and Wesson
revolvers, triple action, with extractors. ... These are excellent
pistols. They can't cost less than ninety roubles the pair. ... You
must hold the revolver like this. ... [Aside] Her eyes, her eyes!
What an inspiring woman!
SMIRNOV. Yes, like this. ... Then you cock the trigger, and take
aim like this. ... Put your head back a little! Hold your arm out
properly. ... Like that. ... Then you press this thing with your
finger--and that's all. The great thing is to keep cool and aim
steadily. ... Try not to jerk your arm.
SMIRNOV. Come along then. But I warn you, I'm going to fire in the
air.
POPOVA. Are you afraid? Yes? Ah! No, sir, you don't get out of it!
You come with me! I shan't have any peace until I've made a hole in
your forehead ... that forehead which I hate so much! Are you
afraid?
SMIRNOV. [Loads the revolver in silence, takes his cap and goes to
the door. There he stops for half a minute, while they look at each
other in silence, then he hesitatingly approaches POPOVA] Listen. ...
Are you still angry? I'm devilishly annoyed, too ... but, do you
understand ... how can I express myself? ... The fact is, you see,
it's like this, so to speak. ... [Shouts] Well, is it my fault that
I like you? [He snatches at the back of a chair; the chair creaks
and breaks] Devil take it, how I'm smashing up your furniture! I
like you! Do you understand? I ... I almost love you!
SMIRNOV. God, what a woman! I've never in my life seen one like
her! I'm lost! Done for! Fallen into a mousetrap, like a mouse!
SMIRNOV. I'm off my head, I'm in love like a boy, like a fool!
[Snatches her hand, she screams with pain] I love you! [Kneels] I
love you as I've never loved before! I've refused twelve women,
nine have refused me, but I never loved one of them as I love you. ...
I'm weak, I'm wax, I've melted. ... I'm on my knees like a fool,
offering you my hand. ... Shame, shame! I haven't been in love for
five years, I'd taken a vow, and now all of a sudden I'm in love,
like a fish out of water! I offer you my hand. Yes or no? You don't
want me? Very well! [Gets up and quickly goes to the door.]
POPOVA. Stop.
SMIRNOV. Good-bye.
POPOVA. Yes, yes, go away! ... [Yells] Where are you going? Stop. ...
No, go away. Oh, how angry I am! Don't come near me, don't come
near me!
POPOVA. Get away from me! Take your hands away! I hate you! Let's
go and fight!
POPOVA. [Lowering her eyes] Luka, tell them in the stables that
Toby isn't to have any oats at all to-day.
Curtain.
CHARACTERS
TOLKACHOV. I must have it. ... Oh, little fathers! ... give me some
water ... water quickly! ... I must have it ... I've got to go
through a dark wood to-night, so in case of accidents ... do,
please, lend it to me.
MURASHKIN. Oh, you liar, Ivan Ivanovitch! What the devil have you
got to do in a dark wood? I expect you are up to something. I can
see by your face that you are up to something. What's the matter
with you? Are you ill?
TOLKACHOV. Let your neighbours hear; it's all the same to me! If
you don't give me a revolver somebody else will, and there will be
an end of me anyway! I've made up my mind!
TOLKACHOV. What's wrong? You ask me what's wrong? Very well, I'll
tell you! Very well! I'll tell you everything, and then perhaps my
soul will be lighter. Let's sit down. Now listen ... Oh, little
mothers, I am out of breath! ... Just let's take to-day as an
instance. Let's take to-day. As you know, I've got to work at the
Treasury from ten to four. It's hot, it's stuffy, there are flies,
and, my dear fellow, the very dickens of a chaos. The Secretary is
on leave, Khrapov has gone to get married, and the smaller fry is
mostly in the country, making love or occupied with amateur
theatricals. Everybody is so sleepy, tired, and done up that you
can't get any sense out of them. The Secretary's duties are in the
hands of an individual who is deaf in the left ear and in love; the
public has lost its memory; everybody is running about angry and
raging, and there is such a hullabaloo that you can't hear yourself
speak. Confusion and smoke everywhere. And my work is deathly:
always the same, always the same--first a correction, then a
reference back, another correction, another reference back; it's
all as monotonous as the waves of the sea. One's eyes, you
understand, simply crawl out of one's head. Give me some water. ...
You come out a broken, exhausted man. You would like to dine and
fall asleep, but you don't!--You remember that you live in the
country--that is, you are a slave, a rag, a bit of string, a bit of
limp flesh, and you've got to run round and do errands. Where we
live a pleasant custom has grown up: when a man goes to town every
wretched female inhabitant, not to mention one's own wife, has the
power and the right to give him a crowd of commissions. The wife
orders you to run into the modiste's and curse her for making a
bodice too wide across the chest and too narrow across the
shoulders; little Sonya wants a new pair of shoes; your sister-in-law
wants some scarlet silk like the pattern at twenty copecks and
three arshins long. ... Just wait; I'll read you. [Takes a note out
of his pocket and reads] A globe for the lamp; one pound of pork
sausages; five copecks' worth of cloves and cinnamon; castor-oil
for Misha; ten pounds of granulated sugar. To bring with you from
home: a copper jar for the sugar; carbolic acid; insect powder, ten
copecks' worth; twenty bottles of beer; vinegar; and corsets for
Mlle. Shanceau at No. 82. ... Ouf! And to bring home Misha's winter
coat and goloshes. That is the order of my wife and family. Then
there are the commissions of our dear friends and neighbours--devil
take them! To-morrow is the name-day of Volodia Vlasin; I have to
buy a bicycle for him. The wife of Lieutenant-Colonel Virkhin is in
an interesting condition, and I am therefore bound to call in at
the midwife's every day and invite her to come. And so on, and so
on. There are five notes in my pocket and my handkerchief is all
knots. And so, my dear fellow, you spend the time between your
office and your train, running about the town like a dog with your
tongue hanging out, running and running and cursing life. From the
clothier's to the chemist's, from the chemist's to the modiste's,
from the modiste's to the pork butcher's, and then back again to
the chemist's. In one place you stumble, in a second you lose your
money, in a third you forget to pay and they raise a hue and cry
after you, in a fourth you tread on the train of a lady's dress. ...
Tfoo! You get so shaken up from all this that your bones ache all
night and you dream of crocodiles. Well, you've made all your
purchases, but how are you to pack all these things? For instance,
how are you to put a heavy copper jar together with the lamp-globe
or the carbolic acid with the tea? How are you to make a
combination of beer-bottles and this bicycle? It's the labours of
Hercules, a puzzle, a rebus! Whatever tricks you think of, in the
long run you're bound to smash or scatter something, and at the
station and in the train you have to stand with your arms apart,
holding up some parcel or other under your chin, with parcels,
cardboard boxes, and such-like rubbish all over you. The train
starts, the passengers begin to throw your luggage about on all
sides: you've got your things on somebody else's seat. They yell,
they call for the conductor, they threaten to have you put out, but
what can I do? I just stand and blink my eyes like a whacked
donkey. Now listen to this. I get home. You think I'd like to have
a nice little drink after my righteous labours and a good square
meal--isn't that so?--but there is no chance of that. My spouse has
been on the look-out for me for some time. You've hardly started on
your soup when she has her claws into you, wretched slave that you
are--and wouldn't you like to go to some amateur theatricals or to
a dance? You can't protest. You are a husband, and the word husband
when translated into the language of summer residents in the
country means a dumb beast which you can load to any extent without
fear of the interference of the Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Animals. So you go and blink at "A Family Scandal" or
something, you applaud when your wife tells you to, and you feel
worse and worse and worse until you expect an apoplectic fit to
happen any moment. If you go to a dance you have to find partners
for your wife, and if there is a shortage of them then you dance
the quadrilles yourself. You get back from the theatre or the dance
after midnight, when you are no longer a man but a useless, limp
rag. Well, at last you've got what you want; you unrobe and get
into bed. It's excellent--you can close your eyes and sleep. ...
Everything is so nice, poetic, and warm, you understand; there are
no children squealing behind the wall, and you've got rid of your
wife, and your conscience is clear--what more can you want? You
fall asleep--and suddenly ... you hear a buzz! ... Gnats! [Jumps
up] Gnats! Be they triply accursed Gnats! [Shakes his fist] Gnats!
It's one of the plagues of Egypt, one of the tortures of the
Inquisition! Buzz! It sounds so pitiful, so pathetic, as if it's
begging your pardon, but the villain stings so that you have to
scratch yourself for an hour after. You smoke, and go for them, and
cover yourself from head to foot, but it is no good! At last you
have to sacrifice yourself and let the cursed things devour you.
You've no sooner got used to the gnats when another plague begins:
downstairs your wife begins practising sentimental songs with her
two friends. They sleep by day and rehearse for amateur concerts by
night. Oh, my God! Those tenors are a torture with which no gnats
on earth can compare. [He sings] "Oh, tell me not my youth has
ruined you." "Before thee do I stand enchanted." Oh, the beastly
things! They've about killed me! So as to deafen myself a little I
do this: I drum on my ears. This goes on till four o'clock. Oh,
give me some more water, brother! ... I can't ... Well, not having
slept, you get up at six o'clock in the morning and off you go to
the station. You run so as not to be late, and it's muddy, foggy,
cold--brr! Then you get to town and start all over again. So there,
brother. It's a horrible life; I wouldn't wish one like it for my
enemy. You understand--I'm ill! Got asthma, heartburn--I'm always
afraid of something. I've got indigestion, everything is thick
before me ... I've become a regular psychopath. ... [Looking round]
Only, between ourselves, I want to go down to see Chechotte or
Merzheyevsky. There's some devil in me, brother. In moments of
despair and suffering, when the gnats are stinging or the tenors
sing, everything suddenly grows dim; you jump up and race round the
whole house like a lunatic and shout, "I want blood! Blood!" And
really all the time you do want to let a knife into somebody or hit
him over the head with a chair. That's what life in a summer villa
leads to! And nobody has any sympathy for me, and everybody seems
to think it's all as it should be. People even laugh. But
understand, I am a living being and I want to live! This isn't
farce, it's tragedy! I say, if you don't give me your revolver, you
might at any rate sympathize.
MURASHKIN. I do sympathize.
TOLKACHOV. I see how much you sympathize. ... Good-bye. I've got to
buy some anchovies and some sausage ... and some tooth-powder, and
then to the station.
MURASHKIN. Where are you living?
MURASHKIN. My dear fellow, wouldn't you do one little thing for me?
Be a friend! Promise me now.
MURASHKIN. Ivan Ivanovitch, what's the matter with you? Why are you
turning purple?
MURASHKIN. [In horror] He's gone mad! [Shouts] Peter! Maria! Where
are you? Help!
Curtain.
THE ANNIVERSARY
CHARACTERS
THE ANNIVERSARY
SHIPUCHIN. [At the door, addresses the outer office] This present,
my dear colleagues, will be preserved to the day of my death, as a
memory of the happiest days of my life! Yes, gentlemen! Once more,
I thank you! [Throws a kiss into the air and turns to KHIRIN] My
dear, my respected Kusma Nicolaievitch!
SHIPUCHIN. [Warmly shakes hands] Thank you, my dear sir! Thank you!
I think that in view of the unique character of the day, as it is
an anniversary, we may kiss each other! ... [They kiss] I am very,
very glad! Thank you for your service ... for everything! If, in
the course of the time during which I have had the honour to be
Chairman of this Bank anything useful has been done, the credit is
due, more than to anybody else, to my colleagues. [Sighs] Yes,
fifteen years! Fifteen years as my name's Shipuchin! [Changes his
tone] Where's my report? Is it getting on?
KHIRIN. Two ... nought ... nought ... three ... nine ... two ...
nought. I can't see straight after all these figures. ... Three ...
one ... six ... four ... one ... five. ... [Uses the counting-frame.]
KHIRIN. I wish I could understand why you love them so! [Pause.]
SHIPUCHIN. [Excitedly] But you will admit that it's untidy! You
spoil the _ensemble_!
KHIRIN. I know that you're going to have the hall filled with them
to-night to make a good show, but you look out, or they'll spoil
everything. They cause all sorts of mischief and disorder.
KHIRIN. Yes. ... Your wife seems intelligent, but on the Monday of
last week she let something off that upset me for two days. In
front of a lot of people she suddenly asks: "Is it true that at our
Bank my husband bought up a lot of the shares of the Driazhsky-Priazhsky
Bank, which have been falling on exchange? My husband is so annoyed
about it!" This in front of people. Why do you tell them everything,
I don't understand. Do you want them to get you into serious trouble?
SHIPUCHIN. Well, that's enough, enough! All that's too dull for an
anniversary. Which reminds me, by the way. [Looks at the time] My
wife ought to be here soon. I really ought to have gone to the
station, to meet the poor little thing, but there's no time. ...
and I'm tired. I must say I'm not glad of her! That is to say, I am
glad, but I'd be gladder if she only stayed another couple of days
with her mother. She'll want me to spend the whole evening with her
to-night, whereas we have arranged a little excursion for
ourselves. ... [Shivers] Oh, my nerves have already started dancing
me about. They are so strained that I think the very smallest
trifle would be enough to make me break into tears! No, I must be
strong, as my name's Shipuchin!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Panting] Were you very dull without me? Are
you well? I haven't been home yet, I came here straight from the
station. I've a lot, a lot to tell you. ... I couldn't wait. ... I
shan't take off my clothes, I'll only stay a minute. [To KHIRIN]
Good morning, Kusma Nicolaievitch! [To her husband] Is everything
all right at home?
SHIPUCHIN. Yes, quite. And, you know, you've got to look plumper
and better this week. ... Well, what sort of a time did you have?
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. Oh, poor Katya, poor Katya! I'm so sorry for
her, so sorry for her.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. No, no, let him hear if he wants to, it's
awfully interesting. I'll end in a minute. Serezha came to meet me
at the station. Some young man or other turns up, an inspector of
taxes, I think ... quite handsome, especially his eyes. ... Serezha
introduced me, and the three of us rode off together. ... It was
lovely weather. ...
[Voices behind the stage: "You can't, you can't! What do you want?"
Enter MERCHUTKINA, waving her arms about.]
MERCHUTKINA. What are you dragging at me for. What else! I want him
himself! [To SHIPUCHIN] I have the honour, your excellency ... I am
the wife of a civil servant, Nastasya Fyodorovna Merchutkina.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [To KHIRIN] Yes, but first we. ... Last week I
suddenly received a letter from my mother. She writes that a
certain Grendilevsky has proposed to my sister Katya. A nice,
modest, young man, but with no means of his own, and no assured
position. And, unfortunately, just think of it, Katya is absolutely
gone on him. What's to be done? Mamma writes telling me to come at
once and influence Katya. ...
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. What does that matter? You listen when a lady
is talking to you! Why are you so angry to-day? Are you in love?
[Laughs.]
SHIPUCHIN. [To his wife] Tanya, dear, do go out into the public
office for a moment. I shan't be long.
MERCHUTKINA. I've been there a good many times these five months,
and they wouldn't even look at my petition. I'd given up all hopes,
but, thanks to my son-in-law, Boris Matveyitch, I thought of coming
to you. "You go, mother," he says, "and apply to Mr. Shipuchin,
he's an influential man and can do anything." Help me, your
excellency!
SHIPUCHIN. One moment. [To MERCHUTKINA] I can't get any sense out
of you. But do understand that your taking this business here is as
absurd as if you took a divorce petition to a chemist's or into a
gold assay office. [Knock at the door. The voice of TATIANA
ALEXEYEVNA is heard, "Can I come in, Andrey?" SHIPUCHIN shouts]
Just wait one minute, dear! [To MERCHUTKINA] What has it got to do
with us if you haven't been paid? As it happens, madam, this is an
anniversary to-day, we're busy ... and somebody may be coming here
at any moment. ... Excuse me. ...
KHIRIN. But haven't you been told perfectly plainly that this is a
bank!
MERCHUTKINA. Yes, yes. ... And if you like I can show you the
doctor's certificate.
KHIRIN. I ask you, madam, have you got a head on your shoulders, or
what? Well, devil take me, I haven't any time to talk to you! I'm
busy. ... [Points to the door] That way, please!
MERCHUTKINA. [Offended] What? Well, never mind, never mind. ... You
can do that to your own wife, but I'm the wife of a civil servant. ...
You can't do that to me!
KHIRIN. If you don't get out this second, I'll call for the
hall-porter! Get out! [Stamping.]
MERCHUTKINA. Never mind, never mind! I'm not afraid! I've seen the
like of you before! Miser!
KHIRIN. I don't think I've ever seen a more awful woman in my life. ...
Ouf! It's given me a headache. ... [Breathing heavily] I tell you
once more ... do you hear me? If you don't get out of this, you old
devil, I'll grind you into powder! I've got such a character that
I'm perfectly capable of laming you for life! I can commit a crime!
MERCHUTKINA. I've heard barking dogs before. I'm not afraid. I've
seen the like of you before.
KHIRIN. [In despair] I can't stand it! I'm ill! I can't! [Sits down
at his desk] They've let the Bank get filled with women, and I
can't finish my report! I can't.
SHIPUCHIN. All right, madam, I'll see to it ... and take the
necessary steps. ... Go away now ... later on! [Aside] My gout's
coming on!
KHIRIN. [In a low tone to SHIPUCHIN] Andrey Andreyevitch, send for
the hall-porter and have her turned out neck and crop! What else
can we do?
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Sits by her husband] It's time I went home. ...
[Looks at watch] But I haven't done yet. ... I'll finish in one
minute and go away. ... What a time we had! Yes, what a time! We
went to spend the evening at the Berezhnitskys. ... It was all
right, quite fun, but nothing in particular. ... Katya's devoted
Grendilevsky was there, of course. ... Well, I talked to Katya,
cried, and induced her to talk to Grendilevsky and refuse him.
Well, I thought, everything's, settled the best possible way; I've
quieted mamma down, saved Katya, and can be quiet myself. ... What
do you think? Katya and I were going along the avenue, just before
supper, and suddenly ... [Excitedly] And suddenly we heard a shot. ...
No, I can't talk about it calmly! [Waves her handkerchief] No, I
can't!
SHIPUCHIN. [Sighs] Ouf!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Weeping] He'd shot himself right in the heart ...
here. ... And the poor man had fallen down senseless. ... And he
was awfully frightened, as he lay there ... and asked for a doctor.
A doctor came soon ... and saved the unhappy man. ...
SHIPUCHIN. Not her, but this one ... this awful woman. ... [Points]
That one!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. What? What are you doing? Have you taken leave
of your senses?
SHIPUCHIN. It's awful? I'm a miserable man! Drive her out! Out with
her!
KHIRIN. [To TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA] Out of it! I'll cripple you! I'll
knock you out of shape! I'll break the law!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Running from him; he chases her] How dare you!
You impudent fellow! [Shouts] Andrey! Help! Andrey! [Screams.]
KHIRIN. [Chasing MERCHUTKINA] Out of this! Catch her! Hit her! Cut
her into pieces!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Shouts] Help! Help! ... Oh, oh ... I'm sick,
I'm sick! [Jumps on to a chair, then falls on to the sofa and
groans as if in a faint.]
KHIRIN. [Chasing MERCHUTKINA] Hit her! Beat her! Cut her to pieces!
MERCHUTKINA. Oh, oh ... little fathers, it's all dark before me!
Ah! [Falls senseless into SHIPUCHIN'S arms. There is a knock at the
door; a VOICE announces THE DEPUTATION] The deputation ...
reputation ... occupation ...
KHIRIN. [Stamps] Get out of it, devil take me! [Turns up his
sleeves] Give her to me: I may break the law!
Curtain.
CHARACTERS
ANDREY SERGEYEVITCH PROSOROV
NATALIA IVANOVA (NATASHA), his fianc�e, later his wife (28)
His sisters:
OLGA
MASHA
IRINA
FEODOR ILITCH KULIGIN, high school teacher, married to MASHA (20)
ALEXANDER IGNATEYEVITCH VERSHININ, lieutenant-colonel in charge of
a battery (42)
NICOLAI LVOVITCH TUZENBACH, baron, lieutenant in the army (30)
VASSILI VASSILEVITCH SOLENI, captain
IVAN ROMANOVITCH CHEBUTIKIN, army doctor (60)
ALEXEY PETROVITCH FEDOTIK, sub-lieutenant
VLADIMIR CARLOVITCH RODE, sub-lieutenant
FERAPONT, door-keeper at local council offices, an old man
ANFISA, nurse (80)
ACT I
OLGA. It's just a year since father died last May the fifth, on
your name-day, Irina. It was very cold then, and snowing. I thought
I would never survive it, and you were in a dead faint. And now a
year has gone by and we are already thinking about it without pain,
and you are wearing a white dress and your face is happy. [Clock
strikes twelve] And the clock struck just the same way then.
[Pause] I remember that there was music at the funeral, and they
fired a volley in the cemetery. He was a general in command of a
brigade but there were few people present. Of course, it was
raining then, raining hard, and snowing.
OLGA. It's so warm to-day that we can keep the windows open, though
the birches are not yet in flower. Father was put in command of a
brigade, and he rode out of Moscow with us eleven years ago. I
remember perfectly that it was early in May and that everything in
Moscow was flowering then. It was warm too, everything was bathed
in sunshine. Eleven years have gone, and I remember everything as
if we rode out only yesterday. Oh, God! When I awoke this morning
and saw all the light and the spring, joy entered my heart, and I
longed passionately to go home.
OLGA. Don't whistle, Masha. How can you! [Pause] I'm always having
headaches from having to go to the High School every day and then
teach till evening. Strange thoughts come to me, as if I were
already an old woman. And really, during these four years that I
have been working here, I have been feeling as if every day my
strength and youth have been squeezed out of me, drop by drop. And
only one desire grows and gains in strength ...
OLGA. Masha can come to Moscow every year, for the whole summer.
OLGA. You're all radiance to-day, I've never seen you look so
lovely. And Masha is pretty, too. Andrey wouldn't be bad-looking,
if he wasn't so stout; it does spoil his appearance. But I've grown
old and very thin, I suppose it's because I get angry with the
girls at school. To-day I'm free. I'm at home. I haven't got a
headache, and I feel younger than I was yesterday. I'm only
twenty-eight. ... All's well, God is everywhere, but it seems to me
that if only I were married and could stay at home all day, it
would be even better. [Pause] I should love my husband.
TUZENBACH. [To SOLENI] I'm tired of listening to the rot you talk.
[Entering the sitting-room] I forgot to say that Vershinin, our new
lieutenant-colonel of artillery, is coming to see us to-day. [Sits
down to the piano.]
IRINA. Is he old?
IRINA. Is he interesting?
TUZENBACH. Oh, he's all right, but there's his wife, his mother-in-law,
and two daughters. This is his second wife. He pays calls and tells
everybody that he's got a wife and two daughters. He'll tell you so
here. The wife isn't all there, she does her hair like a flapper
and gushes extremely. She talks philosophy and tries to commit
suicide every now and again, apparently in order to annoy her
husband. I should have left her long ago, but he bears up
patiently, and just grumbles.
SOLENI. [Enters with CHEBUTIKIN from the dining-room] With one hand
I can only lift fifty-four pounds, but with both hands I can lift
180, or even 200 pounds. From this I conclude that two men are not
twice as strong as one, but three times, perhaps even more. ...
TUZENBACH. How well I can understand that craving for work, oh God!
I've never worked once in my life. I was born in Petersburg, a
chilly, lazy place, in a family which never knew what work or worry
meant. I remember that when I used to come home from my regiment, a
footman used to have to pull off my boots while I fidgeted and my
mother looked on in adoration and wondered why other people didn't
see me in the same light. They shielded me from work; but only just
in time! A new age is dawning, the people are marching on us all, a
powerful, health-giving storm is gathering, it is drawing near,
soon it will be upon us and it will drive away laziness,
indifference, the prejudice against labour, and rotten dullness
from our society. I shall work, and in twenty-five or thirty years,
every man will have to work. Every one!
OLGA. You're not very bright to-day, Masha. [MASHA sings, putting
on her hat] Where are you off to?
MASHA. Home.
SOLENI. Oh, nothing. You came down on me before I could say ...
help! [Pause.]
ANFISA. This way, my dear. Come in, your feet are clean. [To IRINA]
From the District Council, from Mihail Ivanitch Protopopov ... a
cake.
FERAPONT. What?
OLGA. Give him a pie, nurse. Ferapont, go, she'll give you a pie.
FERAPONT. What?
OLGA. [Covers her face with her hands] A samovar! That's awful!
[Exit into the dining-room, to the table.]
IRINA. My dear Ivan Romanovitch, what are you doing!
CHEBUTIKIN. My dear good girl, you are the only thing, and the
dearest thing I have in the world. I'll soon be sixty. I'm an old
man, a lonely worthless old man. The only good thing in me is my
love for you, and if it hadn't been for that, I would have been
dead long ago. ... [To IRINA] My dear little girl, I've known you
since the day of your birth, I've carried you in my arms ... I
loved your dead mother. ...
IRINA. Olga! Olga! [Shouts into the dining-room] Olga! Come along!
[OLGA enters from the dining-room] Lieutenant Colonel Vershinin
comes from Moscow, as it happens.
VERSHININ. I take it that you are Olga Sergeyevna, the eldest, and
that you are Maria ... and you are Irina, the youngest. ...
IRINA. We think we may be there this autumn. It's our native town,
we were born there. In Old Basmanni Road. ... [They both laugh for
joy.]
VERSHININ. [Laughs] That's it ... the lovelorn Major, that's got it!
MASHA. You only wore moustaches then. You have grown older!
[Through her tears] You have grown older!
VERSHININ. Yes, when they used to call me the lovelorn Major, I was
young and in love. I've grown out of both now.
OLGA. But you haven't a single white hair yet. You're older, but
you're not yet old.
VERSHININ. I'm forty-two, anyway. Have you been away from Moscow
long?
IRINA. Eleven years. What are you crying for, Masha, you little
fool. ... [Crying] And I'm crying too.
VERSHININ. Once I used to live in German Street. That was when the
Red Barracks were my headquarters. There's an ugly bridge in
between, where the water rushes underneath. One gets melancholy
when one is alone there. [Pause] Here the river is so wide and
fine! It's a splendid river!
OLGA. Yes, but it's so cold. It's very cold here, and the midges. ...
VERSHININ. What are you saying! Here you've got such a fine healthy
Russian climate. You've a forest, a river ... and birches. Dear,
modest birches, I like them more than any other tree. It's good to
live here. Only it's odd that the railway station should be
thirteen miles away. ... Nobody knows why.
TUZENBACH. Who knows? But on the other hand, they may call our life
noble and honour its memory. We've abolished torture and capital
punishment, we live in security, but how much suffering there is
still!
SOLENI. [In a feeble voice] There, there. ... The Baron will go
without his dinner if you only let him talk philosophy.
CHEBUTIKIN. You said just now, Baron, that they may call our life
noble; but we are very petty. ... [Stands up] See how little I am.
[Violin played behind.]
MASHA. You should see the way she dresses! Quite prettily, quite
fashionably too, but so badly! Some queer bright yellow skirt with
a wretched little fringe and a red bodice. And such a complexion!
Andrey isn't in love. After all he has taste, he's simply making
fun of us. I heard yesterday that she was going to marry
Protopopov, the chairman of the Local Council. That would do her
nicely. ... [At the side door] Andrey, come here! Just for a
minute, dear! [Enter ANDREY.]
ANDREY. That's all right. Now my little sisters won't give you any
rest.
IRINA. Just look what a nice little photograph frame Andrey gave me
to-day. [Shows it] He made it himself.
VERSHININ. [Looks at the frame and does not know what to say] Yes. ...
It's a thing that ...
IRINA. And he made that frame there, on the piano as well. [Andrey
waves his hand and walks away.]
OLGA. He's got a degree, and plays the violin, and cuts all sorts
of things out of wood, and is really a domestic Admirable Crichton.
Don't go away, Andrey! He's got into a habit of always going away.
Come here!
[MASHA and IRINA take his arms and laughingly lead him back.]
CHEBUTIKIN. [Goes up behind ANDREY and takes him round the waist
with both arms] Nature only brought us into the world that we
should love! [Roars with laughter, then sits down and reads a
newspaper which he takes out of his pocket.]
VERSHININ. Well, I say! [Laughs] You know a lot too much! I don't
think there can really be a town so dull and stupid as to have no
place for a clever, cultured person. Let us suppose even that among
the hundred thousand inhabitants of this backward and uneducated
town, there are only three persons like yourself. It stands to
reason that you won't be able to conquer that dark mob around you;
little by little as you grow older you will be bound to give way
and lose yourselves in this crowd of a hundred thousand human
beings; their life will suck you up in itself, but still, you won't
disappear having influenced nobody; later on, others like you will
come, perhaps six of them, then twelve, and so on, until at last
your sort will be in the majority. In two or three hundred years'
time life on this earth will be unimaginably beautiful and
wonderful. Mankind needs such a life, and if it is not ours to-day
then we must look ahead for it, wait, think, prepare for it. We
must see and know more than our fathers and grandfathers saw and
knew. [Laughs] And you complain that you know too much.
MASHA. [Takes off her hat] I'll stay to lunch.
TUZENBACH. You say that many years later on, life on this earth
will be beautiful and wonderful. That's true. But to share in it
now, even though at a distance, we must prepare by work. ...
VERSHININ. [Gets up] Yes. What a lot of flowers you have. [Looks
round] It's a beautiful flat. I envy you! I've spent my whole life
in rooms with two chairs, one sofa, and fires which always smoke.
I've never had flowers like these in my life. ... [Rubs his hands]
Well, well!
IRINA. You'll stop and have lunch with us. Please do.
MASHA. I'll tell you later. ... [Angrily] All right, I'll go, only
please stand back. ... [Steps away.]
CHEBUTIKIN. [Puts his paper into his pocket, and combs his beard] A
pie? Splendid!
CHEBUTIKIN. Oh, that's all right. I haven't been drunk for two
years. And it's all the same, anyway!
MASHA. You're not to dare to drink, all the same. [Angrily, but so
that her husband should not hear] Another dull evening at the
Director's, confound it!
MASHA. Yes, "don't go. ..." It's a cursed, unbearable life. ...
[Goes into dining-room.]
VERSHININ. I'll have some of this black vodka. ... [Drinks] Your
health! [To OLGA] I'm very comfortable here!
IRINA. Masha's out of sorts to-day. She married when she was
eighteen, when he seemed to her the wisest of men. And now it's
different. He's the kindest man, but not the wisest.
IRINA. I don't like this Soleni of yours and I'm afraid of him. He
only says silly things.
TUZENBACH. He's a queer man. I'm sorry for him, though he vexes me.
I think he's shy. When there are just the two of us he's quite all
right and very good company; when other people are about he's rough
and hectoring. Don't let's go in, let them have their meal without
us. Let me stay with you. What are you thinking of? [Pause] You're
twenty. I'm not yet thirty. How many years are there left to us,
with their long, long lines of days, filled with my love for you. ...
TUZENBACH. [Does not hear] I've a great thirst for life, struggle,
and work, and this thirst has united with my love for you, Irina,
and you're so beautiful, and life seems so beautiful to me! What
are you thinking about?
IRINA. You say that life is beautiful. Yes, if only it seems so!
The life of us three hasn't been beautiful yet; it has been
stifling us as if it was weeds ... I'm crying. I oughtn't. ...
[Dries her tears, smiles] We must work, work. That is why we are
unhappy and look at the world so sadly; we don't know what work is.
Our parents despised work. ...
[Enter NATALIA IVANOVA; she wears a pink dress and a green sash.]
NATASHA. [In a tearful voice] Yes? But it isn't really green, it's
too dull for that. [Goes into dining-room with OLGA.]
KULIGIN. I wish you a nice fianc�e, Irina. It's quite time you
married.
MASHA. [Raps with her fork on a plate] Let's all get drunk and make
life purple for once!
SOLENI. Blackbeetles.
[They take the basket and go into the dining-room, where they have
a noisy reception.]
ANDREY. Don't pay any attention to them! Wait ... do stop, please. ...
NATASHA. I'm shy ... I don't know what's the matter with me and
they're all laughing at me. It wasn't nice of me to leave the table
like that, but I can't ... I can't. [Covers her face with her
hands.]
Curtain.
ACT II
NATASHA. What are you doing, Andrey? Are you reading? It's nothing,
only I. ... [She opens another door, and looks in, then closes it]
Isn't there any fire. ...
ANDREY. [Enters with book in hand] What are you doing, Natasha?
NATASHA. And Olga and Irina aren't in yet. The poor things are
still at work. Olga at the teacher's council, Irina at the
telegraph office. ... [Sighs] I said to your sister this morning,
"Irina, darling, you must take care of yourself." But she pays no
attention. Did you say it was a quarter past eight? I am afraid
little Bobby is quite ill. Why is he so cold? He was feverish
yesterday, but to-day he is quite cold ... I am so frightened!
NATASHA. This morning, when the little boy woke up and saw me he
suddenly smiled; that means he knew me. "Good morning, Bobby!" I
said, "good morning, darling." And he laughed. Children understand,
they understand very well. So I'll tell them, Andrey dear, not to
receive the entertainers.
ANDREY. I was just thinking. ... There is really nothing to say. ...
NATASHA. Yes ... there was something I wanted to tell you. ... Oh,
yes. Ferapont has come from the Council offices, he wants to see
you.
[NATASHA goes out; ANDREY reads his book, stooping over the candle
she has left behind. FERAPONT enters; he wears a tattered old coat
with the collar up. His ears are muffled.]
ANDREY. Thank you. It's all right. Why couldn't you come earlier?
It's past eight now.
FERAPONT. What?
FERAPONT. Yes, yes. I came when it was still light, but they
wouldn't let me in. They said you were busy. Well, what was I to
do. If you're busy, you're busy, and I'm in no hurry. [He thinks
that ANDREY is asking him something] What?
FERAPONT. [After a pause] No. God did not lead me there. [Pause]
Shall I go?
ANDREY. You may go. Good-bye. [FERAPONT goes] Good-bye. [Reads] You
can come to-morrow and fetch these documents. ... Go along. ...
[Pause] He's gone. [A ring] Yes, yes. ... [Stretches himself and
slowly goes into his own room.]
MASHA. [Glancing at her watch] They'll bring some soon. I was given
in marriage when I was eighteen, and I was afraid of my husband
because he was a teacher and I'd only just left school. He then
seemed to me frightfully wise and learned and important. And now,
unfortunately, that has changed.
VERSHININ. Yes. ... It seems to me that civilians and army men are
equally interesting, in this town, at any rate. It's all the same!
If you listen to a member of the local intelligentsia, whether to
civilian or military, he will tell you that he's sick of his wife,
sick of his house, sick of his estate, sick of his horses. ... We
Russians are extremely gifted in the direction of thinking on an
exalted plane, but, tell me, why do we aim so low in real life?
Why?
MASHA. Why?
VERSHININ. Perhaps I am. I haven't had any dinner, I've had nothing
since the morning. My daughter is a little unwell, and when my
girls are ill, I get very anxious and my conscience tortures me
because they have such a mother. Oh, if you had seen her to-day!
What a trivial personality! We began quarrelling at seven in the
morning and at nine I slammed the door and went out. [Pause] I
never speak of her, it's strange that I bear my complaints to you
alone. [Kisses her hand] Don't be angry with me. I haven't anybody
but you, nobody at all. ... [Pause.]
MASHA. What a noise in the oven. Just before father's death there
was a noise in the pipe, just like that.
MASHA. Yes.
VERSHININ. I love you, love you, love you ... I love your eyes,
your movements, I dream of them. ... Splendid, wonderful woman!
TUZENBACH. And I'll come to the telegraph office to see you home
every day for ten or twenty years, until you drive me away. [He
sees MASHA and VERSHININ; joyfully] Is that you? How do you do.
MASHA. Yes.
TUZENBACH. [Smiling] When you come home from your work you seem so
young, and so unfortunate. ... [Pause.]
MASHA. You've grown thinner. ... [Whistles a little] And you look
younger, and your face has become like a boy's.
IRINA. I must find another job, this one won't do for me. What I
wanted, what I hoped to get, just that is lacking here. Labour
without poetry, without ideas. ... [A knock on the floor] The
doctor is knocking. [To TUZENBACH] Will you knock, dear. I can't ...
I'm tired. ... [TUZENBACH knocks] He'll come in a minute. Something
ought to be done. Yesterday the doctor and Andrey played cards at
the club and lost money. Andrey seems to have lost 200 roubles.
[CHEBUTIKIN, who has only just got out of bed--he was resting after
dinner--comes into the dining-room and combs his beard. He then
sits by the table and takes a newspaper from his pocket.]
CHEBUTIKIN. Please come here, Venez ici. [IRINA goes and sits by
the table] I can't do without you. [IRINA begins to play patience.]
TUZENBACH. Well? After our time people will fly about in balloons,
the cut of one's coat will change, perhaps they'll discover a sixth
sense and develop it, but life will remain the same, laborious,
mysterious, and happy. And in a thousand years' time, people will
still be sighing: "Life is hard!"--and at the same time they'll be
just as afraid of death, and unwilling to meet it, as we are.
MASHA. I don't know. I've been laughing all day, ever since
morning.
[FEDOTIK and RODE come into the dining-room; they sit and sing
softly, strumming on a guitar.]
VERSHININ. No.
TUZENBACH. Never mind. ... [Gets up] I'm not handsome; what use am
I as a soldier? Well, it makes no difference ... I shall work. If
only just once in my life I could work so that I could come home in
the evening, fall exhausted on my bed, and go to sleep at once.
[Going into the dining-room] Workmen, I suppose, do sleep soundly!
FEDOTIK. And I bought myself a knife ... look at it ... one blade,
another, a third, an ear-scoop, scissors, nail-cleaners.
FEDOTIK. I'll show you another kind of patience. ... [Lays out
cards.]
FEDOTIK. No, it won't come out. Look, the eight was on the two of
spades. [Laughs] That means you won't go to Moscow.
IRINA. Nurse!
TUZENBACH. [Takes cardboard box from the table] Where are the
pastries?
ANFISA. Where has he gone? And I'd served tea. ... What a man.
MASHA. [In the dining-room, by the table angrily] Let me sit down!
[Disturbs the cards on the table] Here you are, spreading your
cards out. Have some tea!
NATASHA. _Il parait, que mon Bobick d�j� ne dort pas_, he has
awakened. He isn't well to-day. I'll go to him, excuse me ...
[Exit.]
SOLENI. When I'm with one other man I behave just like everybody
else, but in company I'm dull and shy and ... talk all manner of
rubbish. But I'm more honest and more honourable than very, very
many people. And I can prove it.
SOLENI. Let's drink. [They drink] I never had anything against you,
Baron. But my character is like Lermontov's [In a low voice] I even
rather resemble Lermontov, they say. ... [Takes a scent-bottle from
his pocket, and scents his hands.]
SOLENI. [Declaims] "Do not be angry, Aleko ... forget, forget, thy
dreams of yore. ..."
SOLENI. I never ate it, because I hate it. It smells like garlic.
IRINA. They promised for about nine; that is, quite soon.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Dances]
"Its walls are like a sieve!" [Laughter.]
TUZENBACH. Bravo, bravo! [Laughs] Come on, now. I'm going to play.
Funny man, Soleni. ... [Goes to the piano and plays a waltz.]
MASHA. [Dancing solo] The Baron's drunk, the Baron's drunk, the
Baron's drunk!
MASHA. What is she thinking of! Well, if they are sent home, I
suppose they must go. [To IRINA] Bobby's all right, it's she
herself. ... Here! [Taps her forehead] Little bourgeoise!
MASHA. Let's go into the street, we can talk there. Then we can
settle things.
CHEBUTIKIN. Ah!
ANDREY. I shan't play to-night, I shall only sit and look on. I
don't feel very well. ... What am I to do for my asthma, Ivan
Romanovitch?
[A bell rings, then a second time; voices and laughter are heard.]
IRINA. Tell them there's nobody at home, nurse. They must excuse
us.
[ANFISA goes out. IRINA walks about the room deep in thought; she
is excited. SOLENI enters.]
SOLENI. [In surprise] There's nobody here. ... Where are they all?
[NATASHA enters with a candle; she looks in through one door, then
through another, and goes past the door leading to her husband's
room.]
NATASHA. Here's Andrey. Let him go on reading. Excuse me, Vassili
Vassilevitch, I did not know you were here; I am engaged in
domesticities.
NATASHA. You and Olga can share a room, for the time being, and
Bobby can have yours. He's such a darling; to-day I said to him,
"Bobby, you're mine! Mine!" And he looked at me with his dear
little eyes. [A bell rings] It must be Olga. How late she is! [The
maid enters and whispers to NATASHA] Protopopov? What a queer man
to do such a thing. Protopopov's come and wants me to go for a
drive with him in his troika. [Laughs] How funny these men are. ...
[A bell rings] Somebody has come. Suppose I did go and have half an
hour's drive. ... [To the maid] Say I shan't be long. [Bell rings]
Somebody's ringing, it must be Olga. [Exit.]
[The maid runs out; IRINA sits deep in thought; KULIGIN and OLGA
enter, followed by VERSHININ.]
KULIGIN. Well, there you are. And you said there was going to be a
party.
VERSHININ. It's queer; I went away not long ago, half an hour ago,
and they were expecting entertainers.
KULIGIN. Has Masha gone too? Where has she gone? And what's
Protopopov waiting for downstairs in his troika? Whom is he
expecting?
OLGA. My committee meeting is only just over. I'm tired out. Our
chairwoman is ill, so I had to take her place. My head, my head is
aching. ... [Sits] Andrey lost 200 roubles at cards yesterday ...
the whole town is talking about it. ...
KULIGIN. I'm tired. I won't go. [Gets up] I'm tired. Has my wife
gone home?
KULIGIN. [Kisses IRINA'S hand] Good-bye, I'm going to rest all day
to-morrow and the day after. Best wishes! [Going] I should like
some tea. I was looking forward to spending the whole evening in
pleasant company and--o, fallacem hominum spem! ... Accusative case
after an interjection. ...
OLGA. I've such a headache ... Andrey has been losing money. ...
The whole town is talking. ... I'll go and lie down. [Going] I'm
free to-morrow. ... Oh, my God, what a mercy! I'm free to-morrow,
I'm free the day after. ... Oh my head, my head. ... [Exit.]
NATASHA. [in fur coat and cap, steps across the dining-room,
followed by the maid] I'll be back in half an hour. I'm only going
for a little drive. [Exit.]
Curtain.
ACT III
[The room shared by OLGA and IRINA. Beds, screened off, on the
right and left. It is past 2 a.m. Behind the stage a fire-alarm is
ringing; it has apparently been going for some time. Nobody in the
house has gone to bed yet. MASHA is lying on a sofa dressed, as
usual, in black. Enter OLGA and ANFISA.]
ANFISA. Now they are downstairs, sitting under the stairs. I said
to them, "Won't you come up," I said, "You can't go on like this,"
and they simply cried, "We don't know where father is." They said,
"He may be burnt up by now." What an idea! And in the yard there
are some people ... also undressed.
OLGA. [Takes a dress out of the cupboard] Take this grey dress. ...
And this ... and the blouse as well. ... Take the skirt, too,
nurse. ... My God! How awful it is! The whole of the Kirsanovsky
Road seems to have burned down. Take this ... and this. ... [Throws
clothes into her hands] The poor Vershinins are so frightened. ...
Their house was nearly burnt. They ought to come here for the
night. ... They shouldn't be allowed to go home. ... Poor Fedotik
is completely burnt out, there's nothing left. ...
ANFISA. Couldn't you call Ferapont, Olga dear. I can hardly manage. ...
OLGA. [Rings] They'll never answer. ... [At the door] Come here,
whoever there is! [Through the open door can be seen a window, red
with flame: afire-engine is heard passing the house] How awful this
is. And how I'm sick of it! [FERAPONT enters] Take these things
down. ... The Kolotilin girls are down below ... and let them have
them. This, too.
FERAPONT. Yes'm. In the year twelve Moscow was burning too. Oh, my
God! The Frenchmen were surprised.
ANFISA. [Tired] Olga, dear girl, don't dismiss me! Don't dismiss
me!
OLGA. You sit down, nurse dear. ... You're tired, poor dear. ...
[Makes her sit down] Rest, dear. You're so pale!
OLGA. [Not attending] In this room we can't see the fire, it's
quiet here.
NATASHA. Yes ... I suppose I'm all untidy. [Before the looking-glass]
They say I'm growing stout ... it isn't true! Certainly it isn't!
Masha's asleep; the poor thing is tired out. ... [Coldly, to
ANFISA] Don't dare to be seated in my presence! Get up! Out of
this! [Exit ANFISA; a pause] I don't understand what makes you keep
on that old woman!
NATASHA. She's no good here. She comes from the country, she ought
to live there. ... Spoiling her, I call it! I like order in the
house! We don't want any unnecessary people here. [Strokes her
cheek] You're tired, poor thing! Our head mistress is tired! And
when my little Sophie grows up and goes to school I shall be so
afraid of you.
OLGA. I'll refuse the post. I can't ... I'm not strong enough. ...
[Drinks water] You were so rude to nurse just now ... I'm sorry. I
can't stand it ... everything seems dark in front of me. ...
NATASHA. I often say too much, it's true, but you must agree, dear,
that she could just as well live in the country.
NATASHA. But she can't do any work now. Either I don't understand,
or you don't want to understand me. She's no good for work, she can
only sleep or sit about.
[Enter KULIGIN.]
KULIGIN. Where's Masha? It's time we went home. The fire seems to
be going down. [Stretches himself] Only one block has burnt down,
but there was such a wind that it seemed at first the whole town
was going to burn. [Sits] I'm tired out. My dear Olga ... I often
think that if it hadn't been for Masha, I should have married you.
You are awfully nice. ... I am absolutely tired out. [Listens.]
OLGA. He hadn't touched a drop for two years, and now he suddenly
goes and gets drunk. ...
CHEBUTIKIN. [Angrily] Devil take them all ... take them all. ...
They think I'm a doctor and can cure everything, and I know
absolutely nothing, I've forgotten all I ever knew, I remember
nothing, absolutely nothing. [OLGA and NATASHA go out, unnoticed by
him] Devil take it. Last Wednesday I attended a woman in Zasip--and
she died, and it's my fault that she died. Yes ... I used to know a
certain amount five-and-twenty years ago, but I don't remember
anything now. Nothing. Perhaps I'm not really a man, and am only
pretending that I've got arms and legs and a head; perhaps I don't
exist at all, and only imagine that I walk, and eat, and sleep.
[Cries] Oh, if only I didn't exist! [Stops crying; angrily] The
devil only knows. ... Day before yesterday they were talking in the
club; they said, Shakespeare, Voltaire ... I'd never read, never
read at all, and I put on an expression as if I had read. And so
did the others. Oh, how beastly! How petty! And then I remembered
the woman I killed on Wednesday ... and I couldn't get her out of
my mind, and everything in my mind became crooked, nasty, wretched. ...
So I went and drank. ...
CHEBUTIKIN. It's all right ... thank you. ... [Combs his beard.]
KULIGIN. You are right, Baron, I'm awfully fond of Masha. She's
very fine.
KULIGIN. [Sighs] Yes. ... But will it be quite all right for her to
take part in a concert? [Pause] You see, I don't know anything
about it. Perhaps it will even be all to the good. Although I must
admit that our Director is a good man, a very good man even, a very
clever man, still he has such views. ... Of course it isn't his
business but still, if you wish it, perhaps I'd better talk to him.
VERSHININ. I got so dirty while the fire was on, I don't look like
anybody on earth. [Pause] Yesterday I happened to hear, casually,
that they want to transfer our brigade to some distant place. Some
said to Poland, others, to Chita.
MASHA. Tra-ra-ra?
VERSHININ. Tra-ta-ta. [Laughs.]
[Enter FEDOTIK.]
FEDOTIK. [Dancing] I'm burnt out, I'm burnt out! Down to the
ground! [Laughter.]
SOLENI. They say it's going down. No, I absolutely don't see why
the Baron can, and I can't? [Scents his hands.]
VERSHININ. Trum-tum-tum.
MASHA. Trum-tum.
SOLENI. Very well, we'll make a note of it. "If I should try to
make this clear, the geese would be annoyed, I fear." [Looks at
TUZENBACH] There, there, there. ... [Goes out with VERSHININ and
FEDOTIK.]
IRINA. How Soleni smelt of tobacco. ... [In surprise] The Baron's
asleep! Baron! Baron!
TUZENBACH. [Laughs] Are you here? I didn't see you. [Kisses IRINA'S
hand] good-bye, I'll go ... I look at you now and I remember, as if
it was long ago, your name-day, when you, cheerfully and merrily,
were talking about the joys of labour. ... And how happy life
seemed to me, then! What has happened to it now? [Kisses her hand]
There are tears in your eyes. Go to bed now; it is already day ...
the morning begins. ... If only I was allowed to give my life for
you!
KULIGIN. Eh?
IRINA. She's tired out. You might let her rest, Fedia.
MASHA. I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored. ... [Sits up] But I can't
get it out of my head. ... It's simply disgraceful. It has been
gnawing away at me ... I can't keep silent. I mean about Andrey. ...
He has mortgaged this house with the bank, and his wife has got all
the money; but the house doesn't belong to him alone, but to the
four of us! He ought to know that, if he's an honourable man.
KULIGIN. What's the use, Masha? Andrey is in debt all round; well,
let him do as he pleases.
KULIGIN. You and I are not poor. I work, take my classes, give
private lessons ... I am a plain, honest man ... _Omnia mea mecum
porto_, as they say.
KULIGIN. [Kisses her] You're tired, just rest for half an hour, and
I'll sit and wait for you. Sleep. ... [Going] I'm satisfied, I'm
satisfied, I'm satisfied. [Exit.]
IRINA. Yes, really, our Andrey has grown smaller; how he's snuffed
out and aged with that woman! He used to want to be a professor,
and yesterday he was boasting that at last he had been made a
member of the district council. He is a member, and Protopopov is
chairman. ... The whole town talks and laughs about it, and he
alone knows and sees nothing. ... And now everybody's gone to look
at the fire, but he sits alone in his room and pays no attention,
only just plays on his fiddle. [Nervily] Oh, it's awful, awful,
awful. [Weeps] I can't, I can't bear it any longer! ... I can't, I
can't! ... [OLGA comes in and clears up at her little table. IRINA
is sobbing loudly] Throw me out, throw me out, I can't bear any
more!
OLGA. Don't cry, dear girl, don't cry ... I suffer, too.
IRINA. I'm not crying, not crying. ... Enough. ... Look, I'm not
crying any more. Enough ... enough!
[NATASHA with a candle walks across the stage from right to left
without saying anything.]
OLGA. [Goes behind her screen] Stop that, I don't hear you in any
case.
OLGA. [Behind the screen] I'm not listening. You may talk any
nonsense you like, it will be all the same, I shan't hear.
FERAPONT. [At the door, impatiently] I've already told you ten
times, Andrey Sergeyevitch.
ANDREY. In the first place I'm not Andrey Sergeyevitch, but sir.
[Note: Quite literally, "your high honour," to correspond to
Andrey's rank as a civil servant.]
FERAPONT. The firemen, sir, ask if they can go across your garden
to the river. Else they go right round, right round; it's a
nuisance.
ANDREY. All right. Tell them it's all right. [Exit FERAPONT] I'm
tired of them. Where is Olga? [OLGA comes out from behind the
screen] I came to you for the key of the cupboard. I lost my own.
You've got a little key. [OLGA gives him the key; IRINA goes behind
her screen; pause] What a huge fire! It's going down now. Hang it
all, that Ferapont made me so angry that I talked nonsense to him. ...
Sir, indeed. ... [A pause] Why are you so silent, Olga? [Pause]
It's time you stopped all that nonsense and behaved as if you were
properly alive. ... You are here, Masha. Irina is here, well, since
we're all here, let's come to a complete understanding, once and
for all. What have you against me? What is it?
OLGA. Please don't, Audrey dear. We'll talk to-morrow. [Excited]
What an awful night!
ANDREY. I'll only say this and go. Just now. ... In the first
place, you've got something against Natasha, my wife; I've noticed
it since the very day of my marriage. Natasha is a beautiful and
honest creature, straight and honourable--that's my opinion. I love
and respect my wife; understand it, I respect her, and I insist
that others should respect her too. I repeat, she's an honest and
honourable person, and all your disapproval is simply silly ...
[Pause] In the second place, you seem to be annoyed because I am
not a professor, and am not engaged in study. But I work for the
zemstvo, I am a member of the district council, and I consider my
service as worthy and as high as the service of science. I am a
member of the district council, and I am proud of it, if you want
to know. [Pause] In the third place, I have still this to say ...
that I have mortgaged the house without obtaining your permission. ...
For that I am to blame, and ask to be forgiven. My debts led me
into doing it ... thirty-five thousand ... I do not play at cards
any more, I stopped long ago, but the chief thing I have to say in
my defence is that you girls receive a pension, and I don't ... my
wages, so to speak. ... [Pause.]
IRINA. What a restless night! [Pause] Olga! [Looks out] Did you
hear? They are taking the brigade away from us; it's going to be
transferred to some place far away.
OLGA. Well?
Curtain
ACT IV
IRINA. Au revoir!
KULIGIN. Who knows! [Wipes his eyes; smiles] Here I've started
crying!
FEDOTIK. After ten years--or fifteen? We'll hardly know one another
then; we'll say, "How do you do?" coldly. ... [Takes a snapshot]
Keep still. ... Once more, for the last time.
KULIGIN. Best wishes. Go and get yourselves wives there in Poland. ...
Your Polish wife will clasp you and call you "kochanku!" [Note:
Darling.] [Laughs.]
RODE. Good-bye, I must go, or else I'll start weeping. ... [Quickly
embraces KULIGIN and TUZENBACH, and kisses IRINA'S hand] We've been
so happy here. ...
[At the back of the stage FEDOTIK and RODE meet MASHA; they say
good-bye and go out with her.]
IRINA. They've gone. ... [Sits on the bottom step of the terrace.]
IRINA. Yes, you ought to change your life, dear man, somehow or
other.
CHEBUTIKIN. I could tell you what your face looks like now, but it
wouldn't be polite.
KULIGIN. Well! It's the custom, it's modus vivendi. Our Director is
clean-shaven, and so I too, when I received my inspectorship, had
my moustaches removed. Nobody likes it, but it's all one to me. I'm
satisfied. Whether I've got moustaches or not, I'm satisfied. ...
[Sits.]
KULIGIN. They say that Soleni and the Baron met yesterday on the
boulevard near the theatre. ...
TUZENBACH. Stop! What right ... [Waves his hand and goes into the
house.]
KULIGIN. Oh, drop it! [Sighs] To-day the soldiers will be gone, and
everything will go on as in the old days. Say what you will, Masha
is a good, honest woman. I love her very much, and thank my fate
for her. People have such different fates. There's a Kosirev who
works in the excise department here. He was at school with me; he
was expelled from the fifth class of the High School for being
entirely unable to understand _ut consecutivum_. He's awfully hard
up now and in very poor health, and when I meet him I say to him,
"How do you do, _ut consecutivum_." "Yes," he says, "precisely
_consecutivum_ ..." and coughs. But I've been successful all my
life, I'm happy, and I even have a Stanislaus Cross, of the second
class, and now I myself teach others that _ut consecutivum_. Of
course, I'm a clever man, much cleverer than many, but happiness
doesn't only lie in that. ...
IRINA. No. She has been sent for. If you only knew how difficult it
is for me to live alone, without Olga. ... She lives at the High
School; she, a head-mistress, busy all day with her affairs and I'm
alone, bored, with nothing to do, and hate the room I live in. ...
I've made up my mind: if I can't live in Moscow, then it must come
to this. It's fate. It can't be helped. It's all the will of God,
that's the truth. Nicolai Lvovitch made me a proposal. ... Well? I
thought it over and made up my mind. He's a good man ... it's quite
remarkable how good he is. ... And suddenly my soul put out wings,
I became happy, and light-hearted, and once again the desire for
work, work, came over me. ... Only something happened yesterday,
some secret dread has been hanging over me. ...
KULIGIN. The head-mistress has come. Let's go. [Exit with IRINA
into the house.]
MASHA. Is my man here? When our cook Martha used to ask about her
gendarme, she used to say my man. Is he here?
ANDREY. When are they going to stop making such a noise in the
house? It's awful.
ANDREY. The town will grow empty. It will be as if they put a cover
over it. [Pause] Something happened yesterday by the theatre. The
whole town knows of it, but I don't.
MASHA. Whose?
CHEBUTIKIN. Soleni's.
CHEBUTIKIN. The Baron is a good man, but one Baron more or less--
what difference does it make? It's all the same! [Beyond the garden
somebody shouts "Co-ee! Hallo! "] You wait. That's Skvortsov
shouting; one of the seconds. He's in a boat. [Pause.]
ANDREY. Our house will be empty. The officers will go away, you are
going, my sister is getting married, and I alone will remain in the
house.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Rises] I'm going away to-morrow, old chap, and perhaps
we'll never meet again, so here's my advice. Put on your cap, take
a stick in your hand, go ... go on and on, without looking round.
And the farther you go, the better.
[SOLENI goes across the back of the stage with two officers; he
catches sight of CHEBUTIKIN, and turns to him, the officers go on.]
CHEBUTIKIN. Half a minute. I'm tired of the lot of you. [To ANDREY]
If anybody asks for me, say I'll be back soon. ... [Sighs] Oh, oh,
oh!
SOLENI. "He didn't have the time to sigh. The bear sat on him
heavily." [Goes up to him] What are you groaning about, old man?
CHEBUTIKIN. Yes.
"He didn't have the time to sigh,
The bear sat on him heavily."
[Exit with SOLENI.]
ANDREY. [Irritated]. Go away! Leave me! Please! [Goes away with the
perambulator.]
TUZENBACH. He seems to be the only man in the town who is glad that
the soldiers are going.
IRINA. One can understand that. [Pause] The town will be empty.
TUZENBACH. I must go into the town and then ... see the others off.
IRINA. It's not true ... Nicolai, why are you so absentminded
to-day? [Pause] What took place by the theatre yesterday?
TUZENBACH. Anything.
TUZENBACH. [Nervously] No, no! [He goes quickly and stops in the
avenue] Irina!
[IRINA stands deep in thought. Then she goes to the back of the
stage and sits on a swing. ANDREY comes in with the perambulator
and FERAPONT also appears.]
ANDREY. Oh, what has become of my past and where is it? I used to
be young, happy, clever, I used to be able to think and frame
clever ideas, the present and the future seemed to me full of hope.
Why do we, almost before we have begun to live, become dull, grey,
uninteresting, lazy, apathetic, useless, unhappy. ... This town has
already been in existence for two hundred years and it has a
hundred thousand inhabitants, not one of whom is in any way
different from the others. There has never been, now or at any
other time, a single leader of men, a single scholar, an artist, a
man of even the slightest eminence who might arouse envy or a
passionate desire to be imitated. They only eat, drink, sleep, and
then they die ... more people are born and also eat, drink, sleep,
and so as not to go silly from boredom, they try to make life
many-sided with their beastly backbiting, vodka, cards, and
litigation. The wives deceive their husbands, and the husbands lie,
and pretend they see nothing and hear nothing, and the evil
influence irresistibly oppresses the children and the divine spark
in them is extinguished, and they become just as pitiful corpses
and just as much like one another as their fathers and mothers. ...
[Angrily to FERAPONT] What do you want?
FERAPONT. [Handing him papers] The hall-porter from the law courts
was saying just now that in the winter there were two hundred
degrees of frost in Petersburg.
ANDREY. The present is beastly, but when I think of the future, how
good it is! I feel so light, so free; there is a light in the
distance, I see freedom. I see myself and my children freeing
ourselves from vanities, from kvass, from goose baked with cabbage,
from after-dinner naps, from base idleness. ...
NATASHA. [At the window] Who's talking so loudly out here? Is that
you, Andrey? You'll wake little Sophie. _Il ne faut pas faire du
bruit, la Sophie est dorm�e deja. Vous �tes un ours._ [Angrily] If
you want to talk, then give the perambulator and the baby to
somebody else. Ferapont, take the perambulator!
NATASHA. [At the window, nursing her boy] Bobby! Naughty Bobby! Bad
little Bobby!
ANDREY. [Looking through the papers] All right, I'll look them over
and sign if necessary, and you can take them back to the offices. ...
NATASHA. [At the window] Bobby, what's your mother's name? Dear,
dear! And who's this? That's Aunt Olga. Say to your aunt, "How do
you do, Olga!"
IRINA. She's somewhere in the garden. I'll go and look for her.
ANFISA. I'll go and look, too. [Shouts] Little Masha, co-ee! [Goes
out with IRINA down into the garden] Co-ee, co-ee!
OLGA. Yes, yes, of course. You need not worry. [Pause] To-morrow
there won't be a single soldier left in the town, it will all be a
memory, and, of course, for us a new life will begin. ... [Pause]
None of our plans are coming right. I didn't want to be a
head-mistress, but they made me one, all the same. It means there's
no chance of Moscow. ...
VERSHININ. Well ... thank you for everything. Forgive me if I've ...
I've said such an awful lot--forgive me for that too, don't think
badly of me.
[Enter MASHA.]
VERSHININ. Write to me. ... Don't forget! Let me go. ... It's time.
Take her, Olga Sergeyevna ... it's time ... I'm late ...
[He kisses OLGA'S hand in evident emotion, then embraces MASHA once
more and goes out quickly.]
KULIGIN. [Confused] Never mind, let her cry, let her. ... My dear
Masha, my good Masha. ... You're my wife, and I'm happy, whatever
happens ... I'm not complaining, I don't reproach you at all. ...
Olga is a witness to it. Let's begin to live again as we used to,
and not by a single word, or hint ...
I'm going off my head ... "There stands ... a green oak ... by the
sea." ...
OLGA. Don't, Masha, don't ... give her some water. ...
KULIGIN. She's not crying any more ... she's a good ... [A shot is
heard from a distance.]
MASHA.
"There stands a green oak by the sea,
And a chain of bright gold is around it ...
An oak of green gold. ..."
I'm mixing it up. ... [Drinks some water] Life is dull. . . I don't
want anything more now ... I'll be all right in a moment. ... It
doesn't matter. ... What do those lines mean? Why do they run in
my head? My thoughts are all tangled.
[IRINA enters.]
IRINA. Let's sit here together and say nothing. I'm going away
to-morrow. ... [Pause.]
KULIGIN. Yesterday I took away these whiskers and this beard from
a boy in the third class. ... [He puts on the whiskers and beard]
Don't I look like the German master. ... [Laughs] Don't I? The boys
are amusing.
MASHA. You really do look like that German of yours.
[Enter NATASHA.]
NATASHA. [To the maid] What? Mihail Ivanitch Protopopov will sit with
little Sophie, and Andrey Sergeyevitch can take little Bobby out.
Children are such a bother. ... [To IRINA] Irina, it's such a pity
you're going away to-morrow. Do stop just another week. [Sees KULIGIN
and screams; he laughs and takes off his beard and whiskers] How you
frightened me! [To IRINA] I've grown used to you and do you think it
will be easy for me to part from you? I'm going to have Andrey and
his violin put into your room--let him fiddle away in there!--and
we'll put little Sophie into his room. The beautiful, lovely child!
What a little girlie! To-day she looked at me with such pretty eyes
and said "Mamma!"
NATASHA. That means I shall have the place to myself to-morrow. [Sighs]
In the first place I shall have that avenue of fir-trees cut down, then
that maple. It's so ugly at nights. ... [To IRINA] That belt doesn't
suit you at all, dear. ... It's an error of taste. And I'll give orders
to have lots and lots of little flowers planted here, and they'll
smell. ... [Severely] Why is there a fork lying about here on the seat?
[Going towards the house, to the maid] Why is there a fork lying about
here on the seat, I say? [Shouts] Don't you dare to answer me!
MASHA. They're going. Well, well. ... Bon voyage! [To her husband] We
must be going home. ... Where's my coat and hat?
CHEBUTIKIN. Nothing ... I don't know how to tell you. ... [Whispers
to her.]
CHEBUTIKIN. Yes ... such a story ... I'm tired out, exhausted, I won't
say any more. ... [Sadly] Still, it's all the same!
MASHA. What's happened?
OLGA. [Embraces IRINA] This is a terrible day ... I don't know how to
tell you, dear. ...
IRINA. What is it? Tell me quickly, what is it? For God's sake! [Cries.]
CHEBUTIKIN. [Sits on a bench at the back of the stage] I'm tired. ...
[Takes a paper from his pocket] Let 'em cry. ... [Sings softly]
"Tarara-boom-deay, it is my washing day. ..." Isn't it all the same!
MASHA. Oh, how the music plays! They are leaving us, one has quite
left us, quite and for ever. We remain alone, to begin our life over
again. We must live ... we must live. ...
IRINA. [Puts her head on OLGA's bosom] There will come a time when
everybody will know why, for what purpose, there is all this suffering,
and there will be no more mysteries. But now we must live ... we must
work, just work! To-morrow, I'll go away alone, and I'll teach and give
my whole life to those who, perhaps, need it. It's autumn now, soon it
will be winter, the snow will cover everything, and I shall be working,
working. ...
OLGA. [Embraces both her sisters] The bands are playing so gaily, so
bravely, and one does so want to live! Oh, my God! Time will pass on,
and we shall depart for ever, we shall be forgotten; they will forget
our faces, voices, and even how many there were of us, but our sufferings
will turn into joy for those who will live after us, happiness and
peace will reign on earth, and people will remember with kindly words,
and bless those who are living now. Oh dear sisters, our life is not
yet at an end. Let us live. The music is so gay, so joyful, and, it
seems that in a little while we shall know why we are living, why
we are suffering. ... If we could only know, if we could only know!
[The music has been growing softer and softer; KULIGIN, smiling happily,
brings out the hat and coat; ANDREY wheels out the perambulator in
which BOBBY is sitting.]
Curtain.
CHARACTERS
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA RANEVSKY (Mme. RANEVSKY), a landowner
ANYA, her daughter, aged seventeen
VARYA (BARBARA), her adopted daughter, aged twenty-seven
LEONID ANDREYEVITCH GAEV, Mme. Ranevsky's brother
ERMOLAI ALEXEYEVITCH LOPAKHIN, a merchant
PETER SERGEYEVITCH TROFIMOV, a student
BORIS BORISOVITCH SIMEONOV-PISCHIN, a landowner
CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA, a governess
SIMEON PANTELEYEVITCH EPIKHODOV, a clerk
DUNYASHA (AVDOTYA FEDOROVNA), a maidservant
FIERS, an old footman, aged eighty-seven
YASHA, a young footman
A TRAMP
A STATION-MASTER
POST-OFFICE CLERK
GUESTS
A SERVANT
ACT ONE
[A room which is still called the nursery. One of the doors leads
into ANYA'S room. It is close on sunrise. It is May. The cherry-trees
are in flower but it is chilly in the garden. There is an early
frost. The windows of the room are shut. DUNYASHA comes in with a
candle, and LOPAKHIN with a book in his hand.]
LOPAKHIN. How much was the train late? Two hours at least. [Yawns
and stretches himself] I have made a rotten mess of it! I came here
on purpose to meet them at the station, and then overslept myself ...
in my chair. It's a pity. I wish you'd wakened me.
DUNYASHA. The dogs didn't sleep all night; they know that they're
coming.
LOPAKHIN. Ah!
DUNYASHA. I don't know what to do about it. He's a nice young man,
but every now and again, when he begins talking, you can't
understand a word he's saying. I think I like him. He's madly in
love with me. He's an unlucky man; every day something happens. We
tease him about it. They call him "Two-and-twenty troubles."
DUNYASHA. They're coming! What's the matter with me? I'm cold all
over.
LOPAKHIN. There they are, right enough. Let's go and meet them.
Will she know me? We haven't seen each other for five years.
ANYA. Let's come through here. Do you remember what this room is,
mother?
VARYA. How cold it is! My hands are quite numb. [To LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA] Your rooms, the white one and the violet one, are just
as they used to be, mother.
LUBOV. My dear nursery, oh, you beautiful room. ... I used to sleep
here when I was a baby. [Weeps] And here I am like a little girl
again. [Kisses her brother, VARYA, then her brother again] And
Varya is just as she used to be, just like a nun. And I knew
Dunyasha. [Kisses her.]
GAEV. The train was two hours late. There now; how's that for
punctuality?
ANYA. I didn't get any sleep for four nights on the journey. ...
I'm awfully cold.
DUNYASHA. You went away during Lent, when it was snowing and
frosty, but now? Darling! [Laughs and kisses her] We did have to
wait for you, my joy, my pet. ... I must tell you at once, I can't
bear to wait a minute.
ANYA. I went away in Holy Week; it was very cold then. Charlotta
talked the whole way and would go on performing her tricks. Why did
you tie Charlotta on to me?
ANYA. We went to Paris; it's cold there and snowing. I talk French
perfectly horribly. My mother lives on the fifth floor. I go to
her, and find her there with various Frenchmen, women, an old abb�
with a book, and everything in tobacco smoke and with no comfort at
all. I suddenly became very sorry for mother--so sorry that I took
her head in my arms and hugged her and wouldn't let her go. Then
mother started hugging me and crying. ...
VARYA. [Weeping] Don't say any more, don't say any more. ...
ANYA. She's already sold her villa near Mentone; she's nothing
left, nothing. And I haven't a copeck left either; we only just
managed to get here. And mother won't understand! We had dinner at
a station; she asked for all the expensive things, and tipped the
waiters one rouble each. And Charlotta too. Yasha wants his share
too--it's too bad. Mother's got a footman now, Yasha; we've
brought him here.
VARYA. I saw the wretch.
VARYA. [Through her tears] I'd like to. ... [Shakes her fist.]
VARYA. I think that it will all come to nothing. He's a busy man.
I'm not his affair ... he pays no attention to me. Bless the man, I
don't want to see him. ... But everybody talks about our marriage,
everybody congratulates me, and there's nothing in it at all, it's
all like a dream. [In another tone] You've got a brooch like a bee.
ANYA. [Sadly] Mother bought it. [Goes into her room, and talks
lightly, like a child] In Paris I went up in a balloon!
ANYA. The birds are singing in the garden. What time is it now?
DUNYASHA. When you went away I was only so high. [Showing with her
hand] I'm Dunyasha, the daughter of Theodore Kozoyedov. You don't
remember!
[Looks round and embraces her. She screams and drops a saucer.
YASHA goes out quickly.]
ANYA. [Coming out of her room] We must tell mother that Peter's
here.
ANYA. [Thoughtfully] Father died six years ago, and a month later
my brother Grisha was drowned in the river--such a dear little boy
of seven! Mother couldn't bear it; she went away, away, without
looking round. ... [Shudders] How I understand her; if only she
knew! [Pause] And Peter Trofimov was Grisha's tutor, he might tell
her. ...
FIERS. [Fussing round the coffee-pot] Oh, you bungler. ... [Murmurs
to himself] Back from Paris ... the master went to Paris once ...
in a carriage. ... [Laughs.]
LUBOV. Let me remember now. Red into the corner! Twice into the
centre!
GAEV. Right into the pocket! Once upon a time you and I used both
to sleep in this room, and now I'm fifty-one; it does seem strange.
GAEV. [Kisses her face and hands] God be with you. How you do
resemble your mother! [To his sister] You were just like her at her
age, Luba.
[ANYA gives her hand to LOPAKHIN and PISCHIN and goes out, shutting
the door behind her.]
VARYA. [To LOPAKHIN and PISCHIN] Well, sirs, it's getting on for
three, quite time you went.
LUBOV. [Laughs] You're just the same as ever, Varya. [Draws her
close and kisses her] I'll have some coffee now, then we'll all go.
[FIERS lays a cushion under her feet] Thank you, dear. I'm used to
coffee. I drink it day and night. Thank you, dear old man. [Kisses
FIERS.]
LUBOV. [Sits and drinks coffee] Yes, bless her soul. I heard by
letter.
GAEV. And Anastasius has died too. Peter Kosoy has left me and now
lives in town with the Commissioner of Police. [Takes a box of
sugar-candy out of his pocket and sucks a piece.]
LUBOV. Cut it down? My dear man, you must excuse me, but you don't
understand anything at all. If there's anything interesting or
remarkable in the whole province, it's this cherry orchard of ours.
LOPAKHIN. The only remarkable thing about the orchard is that it's
very large. It only bears fruit every other year, and even then you
don't know what to do with them; nobody buys any.
FIERS. In the old days, forty or fifty years back, they dried the
cherries, soaked them and pickled them, and made jam of them, and
it used to happen that ...
GAEV. Be quiet, Fiers.
FIERS. And then we'd send the dried cherries off in carts to Moscow
and Kharkov. And money! And the dried cherries were soft, juicy,
sweet, and nicely scented. ... They knew the way. ...
PISCHIN. [To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] What about Paris? Eh? Did you eat
frogs?
LOPAKHIN. Up to now in the villages there were only the gentry and
the labourers, and now the people who live in villas have arrived.
All towns now, even small ones, are surrounded by villas. And it's
safe to say that in twenty years' time the villa resident will be
all over the place. At present he sits on his balcony and drinks
tea, but it may well come to pass that he'll begin to cultivate his
patch of land, and then your cherry orchard will be happy, rich,
splendid. ...
VARYA. There are two telegrams for you, little mother. [Picks out a
key and noisily unlocks an antique cupboard] Here they are.
LUBOV. They're from Paris. ... [Tears them up without reading them]
I've done with Paris.
GAEV. And do you know, Luba, how old this case is? A week ago I
took out the bottom drawer; I looked and saw figures burnt out in
it. That case was made exactly a hundred years ago. What do you
think of that? What? We could celebrate its jubilee. It hasn't a
soul of its own, but still, say what you will, it's a fine
bookcase.
GAEV. Yes ... it's a real thing. [Handling it] My dear and honoured
case! I congratulate you on your existence, which has already for
more than a hundred years been directed towards the bright ideals
of good and justice; your silent call to productive labour has not
grown less in the hundred years [Weeping] during which you have
upheld virtue and faith in a better future to the generations of
our race, educating us up to ideals of goodness and to the
knowledge of a common consciousness. [Pause.]
YASHA. [Giving LUBOV ANDREYEVNA her medicine] Will you take your
pills now?
FIERS. They were here in Easter week and ate half a pailful of
cucumbers. ... [Mumbles.]
VARYA. He's been mumbling away for three years. We're used to that.
CHARLOTTA. [Takes her hand away] If you let people kiss your hand,
then they'll want your elbow, then your shoulder, and then ...
GAEV. Snob. Still, I beg pardon. ... Varya's going to marry him,
he's Varya's young man.
VARYA. Don't talk too much, uncle.
LUBOV. Why not, Varya? I should be very glad. He's a good man.
PISCHIN. To speak the honest truth ... he's a worthy man. ... And
my Dashenka ... also says that ... she says lots of things.
[Snores, but wakes up again at once] But still, dear madam, if you
could lend me ... 240 roubles ... to pay the interest on my
mortgage to-morrow ...
PISCHIN. I'll find it all right [Laughs] I never lose hope. I used
to think, "Everything's lost now. I'm a dead man," when, lo and
behold, a railway was built over my land ... and they paid me for
it. And something else will happen to-day or to-morrow. Dashenka
may win 20,000 roubles ... she's got a lottery ticket.
VARYA. [Quietly] Anya's asleep. [Opens window quietly] The sun has
risen already; it isn't cold. Look, little mother: what lovely
trees! And the air! The starlings are singing!
GAEV. [Opens the other window] The whole garden's white. You
haven't forgotten, Luba? There's that long avenue going straight,
straight, like a stretched strap; it shines on moonlight nights. Do
you remember? You haven't forgotten?
GAEV. Yes, and they'll sell this orchard to pay off debts. How
strange it seems!
GAEV. Where?
TROFIMOV. Peter Trofimov, once the tutor of your Grisha. ... Have I
changed so much?
VARYA. What are we to do, little mother? It's the will of God.
TROFIMOV. [Softly, through his tears] It's all right, it's all
right.
LUBOV. You were quite a boy then, a nice little student, and now
your hair is not at all thick and you wear spectacles. Are you
really still a student? [Goes to the door.]
LUBOV. [Kisses her brother, then VARYA] Well, let's go to bed. ...
And you've grown older, Leonid.
PISCHIN. Two hundred and forty roubles ... to pay the interest on
the mortgage.
LUBOV. Well, then, Leonid will give it to you. ... Let him have it,
Leonid.
GAEV. By all means; hold out your hand.
GAEV. My sister hasn't lost the habit of throwing money about. [To
YASHA] Stand off, do; you smell of poultry.
YASHA. [Grins] You are just the same as ever, Leonid Andreyevitch.
VARYA. [To YASHA] Your mother's come from the village; she's been
sitting in the servants' room since yesterday, and wants to see
you. ...
YASHA. A lot of use there is in her coming. She might have come
tomorrow just as well. [Exit.]
VARYA. Mother hasn't altered a scrap, she's just as she always was.
She'd give away everything, if the idea only entered her head.
GAEV. Yes. ... [Pause] If there's any illness for which people
offer many remedies, you may be sure that particular illness is
incurable, I think. I work my brains to their hardest. I've several
remedies, very many, and that really means I've none at all. It
would be nice to inherit a fortune from somebody, it would be nice
to marry our Anya to a rich man, it would be nice to go to Yaroslav
and try my luck with my aunt the Countess. My aunt is very, very
rich.
GAEV. Don't cry. My aunt's very rich, but she doesn't like us. My
sister, in the first place, married an advocate, not a noble. ...
[ANYA appears in the doorway] She not only married a man who was
not a noble, but she behaved herself in a way which cannot be
described as proper. She's nice and kind and charming, and I'm very
fond of her, but say what you will in her favour and you still have
to admit that she's wicked; you can feel it in her slightest
movements.
[Enter ANYA.]
GAEV. Yes, yes. [Covers his face with her hand] Yes, really, it was
awful. Save me, my God! And only just now I made a speech before a
bookcase ... it's so silly! And only when I'd finished I knew how
silly it was.
VARYA. Yes, uncle dear, you really ought to say less. Keep quiet,
that's all.
GAEV. All right, I'll be quiet. [Kisses their hands] I'll be quiet.
But let's talk business. On Thursday I was in the District Court,
and a lot of us met there together, and we began to talk of this,
that, and the other, and now I think I can arrange a loan to pay
the interest into the bank.
GAEV. I'll go on Tuesday. I'll talk with them about it again. [To
VARYA] Don't howl. [To ANYA] Your mother will have a talk to
Lopakhin; he, of course, won't refuse ... And when you've rested
you'll go to Yaroslav to the Countess, your grandmother. So you
see, we'll have three irons in the fire, and we'll be safe. We'll
pay up the interest. I'm certain. [Puts some sugar-candy into his
mouth] I swear on my honour, on anything you will, that the estate
will not be sold! [Excitedly] I swear on my happiness! Here's my
hand. You may call me a dishonourable wretch if I let it go to
auction! I swear by all I am!
ANYA. [She is calm again and happy] How good and clever you are,
uncle. [Embraces him] I'm happy now! I'm happy! All's well!
[Enter FIERS.]
GAEV. Soon, soon. You go away, Fiers. I'll undress myself. Well,
children, bye-bye ...! I'll give you the details to-morrow, but
let's go to bed now. [Kisses ANYA and VARYA] I'm a man of the
eighties. ... People don't praise those years much, but I can still
say that I've suffered for my beliefs. The peasants don't love me
for nothing, I assure you. We've got to learn to know the peasants!
We ought to learn how. ...
GAEV. I'm coming, I'm coming. ... Go to bed now. Off two cushions
into the middle! I turn over a new leaf. ... [Exit. FIERS goes out
after him.]
ANYA. [Quietly, half-asleep] I'm so tired ... all the bells ...
uncle, dear! Mother and uncle!
VARYA. Come on, dear, come on! [They go into ANYA'S room.]
Curtain.
ACT TWO
[In a field. An old, crooked shrine, which has been long abandoned;
near it a well and large stones, which apparently are old
tombstones, and an old garden seat. The road is seen to GAEV'S
estate. On one side rise dark poplars, behind them begins the
cherry orchard. In the distance is a row of telegraph poles, and
far, far away on the horizon are the indistinct signs of a large
town, which can only be seen on the finest and clearest days. It is
close on sunset. CHARLOTTA, YASHA, and DUNYASHA are sitting on the
seat; EPIKHODOV stands by and plays on a guitar; all seem
thoughtful. CHARLOTTA wears a man's old peaked cap; she has unslung
a rifle from her shoulders and is putting to rights the buckle on
the strap.]
YASHA. Yes, certainly. I cannot differ from you there. [Yawns and
lights a cigar.]
CHARLOTTA. I've done. Now I'll go. [Slings the rifle] You,
Epikhodov, are a very clever man and very terrible; women must be
madly in love with you. Brrr! [Going] These wise ones are all so
stupid. I've nobody to talk to. I'm always alone, alone; I've
nobody at all ... and I don't know who I am or why I live. [Exit
slowly.]
DUNYASHA. [Shy] Very well, only first bring me my little cloak. ...
It's by the cupboard. It's a little damp here.
EPIKHODOV. Very well ... I'll bring it. ... Now I know what to do
with my revolver. [Takes guitar and exits, strumming.]
DUNYASHA. I'm awfully in love with you; you're educated, you can
talk about everything. [Pause.]
GAEV. They built that railway; that's made this place very handy.
[Sits] Went to town and had lunch ... red in the middle! I'd like
to go in now and have just one game.
LUBOV. Please do, Yasha. And why did I go and have lunch there? ...
A horrid restaurant with band and tablecloths smelling of soap. ...
Why do you drink so much, Leon? Why do you eat so much? Why do you
talk so much? You talked again too much to-day in the restaurant,
and it wasn't at all to the point--about the seventies and about
decadents. And to whom? Talking to the waiters about decadents!
LOPAKHIN. Yes.
GAEV. Our Yaroslav aunt has promised to send something, but I don't
know when or how much.
LOPAKHIN. You must excuse my saying so, but I've never met such
frivolous people as you before, or anybody so unbusinesslike and
peculiar. Here I am telling you in plain language that your estate
will be sold, and you don't seem to understand.
LOPAKHIN. I tell you every day. I say the same thing every day.
Both the cherry orchard and the land must be leased off for villas
and at once, immediately--the auction is staring you in the face:
Understand! Once you do definitely make up your minds to the
villas, then you'll have as much money as you want and you'll be
saved.
LOPAKHIN. I must cry or yell or faint. I can't stand it! You're too
much for me! [To GAEV] You old woman!
GAEV. Really!
LUBOV. Please don't go away. It's nicer when you're here. ...
[Pause] I keep on waiting for something to happen, as if the house
is going to collapse over our heads.
GAEV. [Thinking deeply] Double in the corner ... across the middle. ...
GAEV. [Puts candy into his mouth] They say that I've eaten all my
substance in sugar-candies. [Laughs.]
LUBOV. Oh, my sins. ... I've always scattered money about without
holding myself in, like a madwoman, and I married a man who made
nothing but debts. My husband died of champagne--he drank terribly--
and to my misfortune, I fell in love with another man and went off
with him, and just at that time--it was my first punishment, a blow
that hit me right on the head--here, in the river ... my boy was
drowned, and I went away, quite away, never to return, never to see
this river again ...I shut my eyes and ran without thinking, but
_he_ ran after me ... without pity, without respect. I bought a
villa near Mentone because _he_ fell ill there, and for three years
I knew no rest either by day or night; the sick man wore me out,
and my soul dried up. And last year, when they had sold the villa
to pay my debts, I went away to Paris, and there he robbed me of
all I had and threw me over and went off with another woman. I
tried to poison myself. ... It was so silly, so shameful. ... And
suddenly I longed to be back in Russia, my own land, with my little
girl. ... [Wipes her tears] Lord, Lord be merciful to me, forgive
me my sins! Punish me no more! [Takes a telegram out of her pocket]
I had this to-day from Paris. ... He begs my forgiveness, he
implores me to return. ... [Tears it up] Don't I hear music?
[Listens.]
LUBOV. I'm quite sure there wasn't anything at all funny. You
oughtn't to go and see plays, you ought to go and look at yourself.
What a grey life you lead, what a lot you talk unnecessarily.
LOPAKHIN. Yes.
LUBOV. She's quite homely in her ways, works all day, and, what
matters most, she's in love with you. And you've liked her for a
long time.
GAEV. I'm offered a place in a bank. Six thousand roubles a year. ...
Did you hear?
LUBOV. What's the matter with you! Stay where you are. ...
FIERS. [To GAEV] Please, sir, put this on, it's damp.
FIERS It's all very well. ... You went away this morning without
telling me. [Examining GAEV.]
FIERS. I've been alive a long time. They were already getting ready
to marry me before your father was born. ... [Laughs] And when the
Emancipation came I was already first valet. Only I didn't agree
with the Emancipation and remained with my people. ... [Pause] I
remember everybody was happy, but they didn't know why.
LOPAKHIN. It was very good for them in the old days. At any rate,
they used to beat them.
FIERS. [Not hearing] Rather. The peasants kept their distance from
the masters and the masters kept their distance from the peasants,
but now everything's all anyhow and you can't understand anything.
LOPAKHIN. Nothing will come of it. And you won't pay your interest,
don't you worry.
[All laugh.]
LUBOV. You want giants, do you? ... They're only good in stories,
and even there they frighten one. [EPIKHODOV enters at the back of
the stage playing his guitar. Thoughtfully:] Epikhodov's there.
TROFIMOV. Yes.
TROFIMOV. Or an owl.
LUBOV. You know, my friends, let's go in; it's evening now. [To
ANYA] You've tears in your eyes. ... What is it, little girl?
[Embraces her.]
LUBOV. [With a start] Take this ... here you are. ... [Feels in her
purse] There's no silver. ... It doesn't matter, here's gold.
TRAMP. I am deeply grateful to you! [Exit. Laughter.]
VARYA. [Frightened] I'm going, I'm going. ... Oh, little mother, at
home there's nothing for the servants to eat, and you gave him
gold.
LUBOV. Let's go, it's time. And Varya, we've settled your affair; I
congratulate you.
TROFIMOV. Varya's afraid we may fall in love with each other and
won't get away from us for days on end. Her narrow mind won't allow
her to understand that we are above love. To escape all the petty
and deceptive things which prevent our being happy and free, that
is the aim and meaning of our lives. Forward! We go irresistibly on
to that bright star which burns there, in the distance! Don't lag
behind, friends!
ANYA. What have you done to me, Peter? I don't love the cherry
orchard as I used to. I loved it so tenderly, I thought there was
no better place in the world than our orchard.
ANYA. The house in which we live has long ceased to be our house; I
shall go away. I give you my word.
TROFIMOV. If you have the housekeeping keys, throw them down the well
and go away. Be as free as the wind.
TROFIMOV. Believe me, Anya, believe me! I'm not thirty yet, I'm
young, I'm still a student, but I have undergone a great deal! I'm
as hungry as the winter, I'm ill, I'm shaken. I'm as poor as a
beggar, and where haven't I been--fate has tossed me everywhere!
But my soul is always my own; every minute of the day and the night
it is filled with unspeakable presentiments. I know that happiness
is coming, Anya, I see it already. ...
[EPIKHODOV is heard playing the same sad song on his guitar. The
moon rises. Somewhere by the poplars VARYA is looking for ANYA and
calling, "Anya, where are you?"]
Curtain.
ACT THREE
PISCHIN. I'm full-blooded and have already had two strokes; it's
hard for me to dance, but, as they say, if you're in Rome, you must
do as Rome does. I've got the strength of a horse. My dead father,
who liked a joke, peace to his bones, used to say, talking of our
ancestors, that the ancient stock of the Simeonov-Pischins was
descended from that identical horse that Caligula made a senator. ...
[Sits] But the trouble is, I've no money! A hungry dog only
believes in meat. [Snores and wakes up again immediately] So I ...
only believe in money. ...
PISCHIN. Well ... a horse is a fine animal ... you can sell a
horse.
VARYA. [Bitterly] We've hired the musicians, but how are they to be
paid? [Exit.]
PISCHIN. Well ... Dashenka told me. Now I'm in such a position, I
wouldn't mind forging them ... I've got to pay 310 roubles the day
after to-morrow ... I've got 130 already. ... [Feels his pockets,
nervously] I've lost the money! The money's gone! [Crying] Where's
the money? [Joyfully] Here it is behind the lining ... I even began
to perspire.
LUBOV. And the musicians needn't have come, and we needn't have got
up this ball. ... Well, never mind. ... [Sits and sings softly.]
CHARLOTTA. Now shuffle. All right, now. Give them here, oh my dear
Mr. Pischin. _Ein, zwei, drei_! Now look and you'll find it in your
coat-tail pocket.
CHARLOTTA. Right! [Claps her hands, the pack of cards vanishes] How
lovely the weather is to-day. [A mysterious woman's voice answers
her, as if from under the floor, "Oh yes, it's lovely weather,
madam."] You are so beautiful, you are my ideal. [Voice, "You,
madam, please me very much too."]
[Throws the shawl at PISCHIN, curtseys and runs into the drawing-room.]
PISCHIN. [Runs after her] Little wretch. ... What? Would you? [Exit.]
LUBOV. Leonid hasn't come yet. I don't understand what he's doing
so long in town! Everything must be over by now. The estate must be
sold; or, if the sale never came off, then why does he stay so
long?
VARYA. [Tries to soothe her] Uncle has bought it. I'm certain of
it.
VARYA. Grandmother sent him her authority for him to buy it in her
name and transfer the debt to her. She's doing it for Anya. And I'm
certain that God will help us and uncle will buy it.
LUBOV. Why are you getting angry, Varya? He's teasing you about
Lopakhin, well what of it? You can marry Lopakhin if you want to,
he's a good, interesting man. ... You needn't if you don't want
to; nobody wants to force you against your will, my darling.
LUBOV. Then marry him. I don't understand what you're waiting for.
[Enter YASHA.]
LUBOV. Don't tease her, Peter, you see that she's quite unhappy
without that.
TROFIMOV. Isn't it all the same whether the estate is sold to-day
or isn't? It's been all up with it for a long time; there's no
turning back, the path's grown over. Be calm, dear, you shouldn't
deceive yourself, for once in your life at any rate you must look
the truth straight in the face.
LUBOV. What truth? You see where truth is, and where untruth is,
but I seem to have lost my sight and see nothing. You boldly settle
all important questions, but tell me, dear, isn't it because you're
young, because you haven't had time to suffer till you settled a
single one of your questions? You boldly look forward, isn't it
because you cannot foresee or expect anything terrible, because so
far life has been hidden from your young eyes? You are bolder, more
honest, deeper than we are, but think only, be just a little
magnanimous, and have mercy on me. I was born here, my father and
mother lived here, my grandfather too, I love this house. I
couldn't understand my life without that cherry orchard, and if it
really must be sold, sell me with it! [Embraces TROFIMOV, kisses
his forehead]. My son was drowned here. ... [Weeps] Have pity on
me, good, kind man.
LUBOV. This telegram's from Paris. I get one every day. Yesterday
and to-day. That wild man is ill again, he's bad again. ... He begs
for forgiveness, and implores me to come, and I really ought to go
to Paris to be near him. You look severe, Peter, but what can I do,
my dear, what can I do; he's ill, he's alone, unhappy, and who's to
look after him, who's to keep him away from his errors, to give him
his medicine punctually? And why should I conceal it and say
nothing about it; I love him, that's plain, I love him, I love him. ...
That love is a stone round my neck; I'm going with it to the
bottom, but I love that stone and can't live without it. [Squeezes
TROFIMOV'S hand] Don't think badly of me, Peter, don't say anything
to me, don't say ...
LUBOV. No, no, no, you oughtn't to say that! [Stops her ears.]
TROFIMOV. But he's a wretch, you alone don't know it! He's a petty
thief, a nobody. ...
LUBOV. "I'm above love!" You're not above love, you're just what
our Fiers calls a bungler. Not to have a mistress at your age!
LUBOV. [Shouts after him] Peter, wait! Silly man, I was joking!
Peter! [Somebody is heard going out and falling downstairs noisily.
ANYA and VARYA scream; laughter is heard immediately] What's that?
LUBOV. Well, Peter ... you pure soul ... I beg your pardon ...
let's dance.
[She dances with PETER. ANYA and VARYA dance. FIERS enters and
stands his stick by a side door. YASHA has also come in and looks
on at the dance.]
FIERS. I'm not well. At our balls some time back, generals and
barons and admirals used to dance, and now we send for post-office
clerks and the Station-master, and even they come as a favour. I'm
very weak. The dead master, the grandfather, used to give everybody
sealing-wax when anything was wrong. I've taken sealing-wax every
day for twenty years, and more; perhaps that's why I still live.
[Enter ANYA.]
ANYA. [Excited] Somebody in the kitchen was saying just now that
the cherry orchard was sold to-day.
ANYA. He didn't say to whom. He's gone now. [Dances out into the
reception-room with TROFIMOV.]
YASHA. Some old man was chattering about it a long time ago. A
stranger!
FIERS. And Leonid Andreyevitch isn't here yet, he hasn't come. He's
wearing a light, _demi-saison_ overcoat. He'll catch cold. Oh these
young fellows.
LUBOV. I'll die of this. Go and find out, Yasha, to whom it's sold.
YASHA. Oh, but he's been gone a long time, the old man. [Laughs.]
LUBOV. [Slightly vexed] Why do you laugh? What are you glad about?
LUBOV. Why do you look like that? Are you ill? I think you ought to
go to bed. ...
FIERS. Yes ... [With a smile] I'll go to bed, and who'll hand
things round and give orders without me? I've the whole house on my
shoulders.
[Enter PISCHIN.]
[Enter EPIKHODOV.]
DUNYASHA. Please, we'll talk later on, but leave me alone now. I'm
meditating now. [Plays with her fan.]
VARYA. Haven't you gone yet, Simeon? You really have no respect for
anybody. [To DUNYASHA] You go away, Dunyasha. [To EPIKHODOV] You
play billiards and break a cue, and walk about the drawing-room as
if you were a visitor!
VARYA. I'm not calling you to order, I'm only telling you. You just
walk about from place to place and never do your work. Goodness
only knows why we keep a clerk.
VARYA. You dare to talk to me like that! [Furious] You dare? You
mean that I know nothing? Get out of here! This minute!
VARYA. [Beside herself] Get out this minute. Get out! [He goes to
the door, she follows] Two-and-twenty troubles! I don't want any
sign of you here! I don't want to see anything of you! [EPIKHODOV
has gone out; his voice can be heard outside: "I'll make a
complaint against you."] What, coming back? [Snatches up the stick
left by FIERS by the door] Go ... go ... go, I'll show you. ... Are
you going? Are you going? Well, then take that. [She hits out as
LOPAKHIN enters.]
VARYA. It isn't worth any thanks. [Walks away, then looks back and
asks gently] I didn't hurt you, did I?
PISCHIN. Now we'll see what there is to see and hear what there is
to hear. .. [Kisses LOPAKHIN] You smell of cognac, my dear, my
soul. And we're all having a good time.
LOPAKHIN. Leonid Andreyevitch came back with me, he's coming. ...
GAEV. [Says nothing to her, only waves his hand; to FIERS, weeping]
Here, take this. ... Here are anchovies, herrings from Kertch. ...
I've had no food to-day. ... I have had a time! [The door from the
billiard-room is open; the clicking of the balls is heard, and
YASHA'S voice, "Seven, eighteen!" GAEV'S expression changes, he
cries no more] I'm awfully tired. Help me change my clothes, Fiers.
LOPAKHIN. It is sold.
ANYA. Mother! mother, are you crying? My dear, kind, good mother,
my beautiful mother, I love you! Bless you! The cherry orchard is
sold, we've got it no longer, it's true, true, but don't cry
mother, you've still got your life before you, you've still your
beautiful pure soul ... Come with me, come, dear, away from here,
come! We'll plant a new garden, finer than this, and you'll see it,
and you'll understand, and deep joy, gentle joy will sink into your
soul, like the evening sun, and you'll smile, mother! Come, dear,
let's go!
Curtain.
ACT FOUR
[The voices die away. LUBOV ANDREYEVNA and GAEV enter. She is not
crying but is pale, and her face trembles; she can hardly speak.]
GAEV. You gave them your purse, Luba. You can't go on like that,
you can't!
LOPAKHIN. [In the doorway, calling after them] Please, I ask you
most humbly! Just a little glass to say good-bye. I didn't remember
to bring any from town and I only found one bottle at the station.
Please, do! [Pause] Won't you really have any? [Goes away from the
door] If I only knew--I wouldn't have bought any. Well, I shan't
drink any either. [YASHA carefully puts the tray on a chair] You
have a drink, Yasha, at any rate.
YASHA. To those departing! And good luck to those who stay behind!
[Drinks] I can assure you that this isn't real champagne.
TROFIMOV. I won't.
TROFIMOV Yes. I'll see them into town and to-morrow I'm off to
Moscow.
LOPAKHIN. How many years have you been going to the university?
TROFIMOV. Yes, I have, thank you; I've got some for a translation.
Here it is in my pocket. [Nervously] But I can't find my goloshes!
VARYA. [From the other room] Take your rubbish away! [Throws a pair
of rubber goloshes on to the stage.]
TROFIMOV. Why are you angry, Varya? Hm! These aren't my goloshes!
TROFIMOV. Your father was a peasant, mine was a chemist, and that
means absolutely nothing. [LOPAKHIN takes out his pocket-book] No,
no. ... Even if you gave me twenty thousand I should refuse. I'm a
free man. And everything that all you people, rich and poor, value
so highly and so dearly hasn't the least influence over me; it's
like a flock of down in the wind. I can do without you, I can pass
you by. I'm strong and proud. Mankind goes on to the highest truths
and to the highest happiness such as is only possible on earth, and
I go in the front ranks!
TROFIMOV. I will. [Pause] I'll get there and show others the way.
[Axes cutting the trees are heard in the distance.]
LOPAKHIN. Well, good-bye, old man. It's time to go. Here we stand
pulling one another's noses, but life goes its own way all the
time. When I work for a long time, and I don't get tired, then I
think more easily, and I think I get to understand why I exist. And
there are so many people in Russia, brother, who live for nothing
at all. Still, work goes on without that. Leonid Andreyevitch, they
say, has accepted a post in a bank; he will get sixty thousand
roubles a year. ... But he won't stand it; he's very lazy.
ANYA. [At the door] Mother asks if you will stop them cutting down
the orchard until she has gone away.
LOPAKHIN, All right, all right ... yes, he's right. [Exit.]
YASHA. I gave the order this morning. I suppose they've sent him.
VARYA. [Behind the door] Has Fiers been taken away to the hospital?
ANYA. Yes.
VARYA. [In the next room] Where's Yasha? Tell him his mother's come
and wants to say good-bye to him.
[DUNYASHA has meanwhile been bustling round the luggage; now that
YASHA is left alone, she goes up to him.]
LUBOV. We needn't get into our carriages for ten minutes. ...
[Looks round the room] Good-bye, dear house, old grandfather. The
winter will go, the spring will come, and then you'll exist no
more, you'll be pulled down. How much these walls have seen!
[Passionately kisses her daughter] My treasure, you're radiant,
your eyes flash like two jewels! Are you happy? Very?
GAEV. [Gaily] Yes, really, everything's all right now. Before the
cherry orchard was sold we all were excited and we suffered, and
then, when the question was solved once and for all, we all calmed
down, and even became cheerful. I'm a bank official now, and a
financier ... red in the middle; and you, Luba, for some reason or
other, look better, there's no doubt about it.
LUBOV Yes. My nerves are better, it's true. [She puts on her coat
and hat] I sleep well. Take my luggage out, Yasha. It's time. [To
ANYA] My little girl, we'll soon see each other again. ... I'm off
to Paris. I'll live there on the money your grandmother from
Yaroslav sent along to buy the estate--bless her!--though it won't
last long.
ANYA. You'll come back soon, soon, mother, won't you? I'll get
ready, and pass the exam at the Higher School, and then I'll work
and help you. We'll read all sorts of books to one another, won't
we? [Kisses her mother's hands] We'll read in the autumn evenings;
we'll read many books, and a beautiful new world will open up
before us. ... [Thoughtfully] You'll come, mother. ...
GAEV. Everybody's leaving us. Varya's going away ... we've suddenly
become unnecessary.
[Enter PISCHIN.]
PISCHIN. [Puffing] Oh, let me get my breath back. ... I'm fagged
out ... My most honoured, give me some water. ...
GAEV. Come for money, what? I'm your humble servant, and I'm going out
of the way of temptation. [Exit.]
PISCHIN. I haven't been here for ever so long ... dear madam. [To
LOPAKHIN] You here? Glad to see you ... man of immense brain ...
take this ... take it. ... [Gives LOPAKHIN money] Four hundred
roubles. ... That leaves 840. ...
PISCHIN. Stop ... it's hot. ... A most unexpected thing happened.
Some Englishmen came along and found some white clay on my land. ...
[To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] And here's four hundred for you ... beautiful
lady. ... [Gives her money] Give you the rest later. ... [Drinks
water] Just now a young man in the train was saying that some great
philosopher advises us all to jump off roofs. "Jump!" he says, and
that's all. [Astonished] To think of that, now! More water!
PISCHIN. I've leased off the land with the clay to them for twenty-four
years. ... Now, excuse me, I've no time. ... I must run off. ... I
must go to Znoikov and to Kardamonov ... I owe them all money. ...
[Drinks] Good-bye. I'll come in on Thursday.
PISCHIN. [Agitated] What? Why to town? I see furniture ... trunks. ...
Well, never mind. [Crying] Never mind. These Englishmen are men of
immense intellect. ... Never mind. ... Be happy. ... God will help
you. ... Never mind. ... Everything in this world comes to an end. ...
[Kisses LUBOV ANDREYEVNA'S hand] And if you should happen to hear
that my end has come, just remember this old ... horse and say:
"There was one such and such a Simeonov-Pischin, God bless his
soul. ..." Wonderful weather ... yes. ... [Exit deeply moved, but
returns at once and says in the door] Dashenka sent her love!
[Exit.]
LUBOV. Now we can go. I've two anxieties, though. The first is poor
Fiers [Looks at her watch] We've still five minutes. ...
ANYA. Mother, Fiers has already been sent to the hospital. Yasha
sent him off this morning.
VARYA. [Looking at the luggage in silence] I can't seem to find it. ...
VARYA. [Looking at the luggage] Where is it? ... perhaps I've put
it away in the trunk. ... Yes, there'll be no more life in this
house. ...
LOPAKHIN. And I'm off to Kharkov at once ... by this train. I've a
lot of business on hand. I'm leaving Epikhodov here ... I've taken
him on.
LOPAKHIN. Last year at this time the snow was already falling, if
you remember, and now it's nice and sunny. Only it's rather cold. ...
There's three degrees of frost.
VARYA. [Not crying now, wipes her eyes] Yes, it's quite time,
little mother. I'll get to the Ragulins to-day, if I don't miss the
train. ...
LUBOV. [At the door] Anya, put on your things. [Enter ANYA, then
GAEV, CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA. GAEV wears a warm overcoat with a cape. A
servant and drivers come in. EPIKHODOV bustles around the luggage]
Now we can go away.
GAEV. [Stupidly] Double the red into the middle. ... I'll be quiet.
LUBOV. I'll sit here one more minute. It's as if I'd never really
noticed what the walls and ceilings of this house were like, and
now I look at them greedily, with such tender love. ...
GAEV. I remember, when I was six years old, on Trinity Sunday, I
sat at this window and looked and saw my father going to church. ...
TROFIMOV. Come along, let's take our seats ... it's time! The train
will be in directly.
VARYA. Peter, here they are, your goloshes, by that trunk. [In
tears] And how old and dirty they are. ...
GAEV. [Deeply moved, nearly crying] The train ... the station. ...
Cross in the middle, a white double in the corner. ...
LOPAKHIN. Are you all here? There's nobody else? [Locks the
side-door on the left] There's a lot of things in there. I must
lock them up. Come!
[VARYA looks round the room and goes out slowly. YASHA and
CHARLOTTA, with her little dog, go out.]
LOPAKHIN. Till the spring, then! Come on ... till we meet again!
[Exit.]
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA and GAEV are left alone. They might almost have
been waiting for that. They fall into each other's arms and sob
restrainedly and quietly, fearing that somebody might hear them.]
LUBOV. To look at the walls and the windows for the last time. ...
My dead mother used to like to walk about this room. ...
[The stage is empty. The sound of keys being turned in the locks is
heard, and then the noise of the carriages going away. It is quiet.
Then the sound of an axe against the trees is heard in the silence
sadly and by itself. Steps are heard. FIERS comes in from the door
on the right. He is dressed as usual, in a short jacket and white
waistcoat; slippers on his feet. He is ill. He goes to the door and
tries the handle.]
Curtain.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series
by Anton Chekhov
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