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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Plays by Anton Chekhov,
Second Series
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series
Author: Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Translator: Julius West
Release date: April 1, 2005 [eBook #7986]
Most recently updated: February 26, 2021
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7986
Credits: Produced by James Rusk, Nicole Apostola, and David Widger
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLAYS BY
ANTON CHEKHOV, SECOND SERIES ***
Second Series
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series
Author: Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Translator: Julius West
Release date: April 1, 2005 [eBook #7986]
Most recently updated: February 26, 2021
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7986
Credits: Produced by James Rusk, Nicole Apostola, and David Widger
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLAYS BY
ANTON CHEKHOV, SECOND SERIES ***
Page 4
PLAYS BY ANTON CHEKHOV,
SECOND SERIES
SECOND SERIES
Page 5
By Anton Chekhov
Translated, with an Introduction, by Julius West
[The First Series Plays have been previously published
by Project Gutenberg in etext numbers: 1753 through 1756]
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
ON THE HIGH ROAD
THE PROPOSAL
THE WEDDING
THE BEAR
Translated, with an Introduction, by Julius West
[The First Series Plays have been previously published
by Project Gutenberg in etext numbers: 1753 through 1756]
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
ON THE HIGH ROAD
THE PROPOSAL
THE WEDDING
THE BEAR
Page 6
A TRAGEDIAN IN SPITE OF HIMSELF
THE ANNIVERSARY
THE THREE SISTERS
ACT I
ACT II
ACT III
ACT IV
THE CHERRY ORCHARD
ACT ONE
ACT TWO
ACT THREE
ACT FOUR
THE ANNIVERSARY
THE THREE SISTERS
ACT I
ACT II
ACT III
ACT IV
THE CHERRY ORCHARD
ACT ONE
ACT TWO
ACT THREE
ACT FOUR
Page 7
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.
It is not the business of a translator to attempt to outdo all others in singing
the praises of his raw material. This is a dangerous process and may well
lead, as it led Mr. Calderon, to drawing the reader’s attention to points of
beauty not to be found in the original. A few bibliographical details are
equally necessary, and permissible, and the elementary principles of
Chekhov criticism will also be found useful.
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,—
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.
It is not the business of a translator to attempt to outdo all others in singing
the praises of his raw material. This is a dangerous process and may well
lead, as it led Mr. Calderon, to drawing the reader’s attention to points of
beauty not to be found in the original. A few bibliographical details are
equally necessary, and permissible, and the elementary principles of
Chekhov criticism will also be found useful.
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,—
Page 8
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.]
In “The High Road” we see, in an embryonic form, the whole later method
of the plays—the deliberate contrast between two strong characters
(Bortsov and Merik in this case), the careful individualization of each
person in a fairly large group by way of an introduction to the main theme,
the concealment of the catastrophe, germ-wise, in the actual character of the
characters, and the of a distinctive group-atmosphere. It need scarcely be
stated that “The High Road” is not a “dirty” piece according to Russian or
to German standards; Chekhov was incapable of writing a dirty play or
story. For the rest, this piece differs from the others in its presentation, not
of Chekhov’s favourite middle-classes, but of the moujik, nourishing, in a
particularly stuffy atmosphere, an intense mysticism and an equally intense
thirst for vodka.
“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,”
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.]
In “The High Road” we see, in an embryonic form, the whole later method
of the plays—the deliberate contrast between two strong characters
(Bortsov and Merik in this case), the careful individualization of each
person in a fairly large group by way of an introduction to the main theme,
the concealment of the catastrophe, germ-wise, in the actual character of the
characters, and the of a distinctive group-atmosphere. It need scarcely be
stated that “The High Road” is not a “dirty” piece according to Russian or
to German standards; Chekhov was incapable of writing a dirty play or
story. For the rest, this piece differs from the others in its presentation, not
of Chekhov’s favourite middle-classes, but of the moujik, nourishing, in a
particularly stuffy atmosphere, an intense mysticism and an equally intense
thirst for vodka.
“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,”
Page 9
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?
The Russian, painfully conscious of his own weakness, has accepted this
point of view, and regards “The Cherry Orchard” as its master-study in
dramatic form. They speak of the palpitating hush which fell upon the
audience of the Moscow Art Theatre after the first fall of the curtain at the
first performance—a hush so intense as to make Chekhov’s friends undergo
the initial emotions of assisting at a vast theatrical failure. But the silence
ryes almost a sob, to be followed, when overcome, by an epic applause.
And, a few months later, Chekhov died.
This volume and that of Marian Fell—with which it is uniform—contain all
the dramatic works of Chekhov. It considered not worth while to translate a
few fragments published posthumously, or a monologue “On the Evils of
Tobacco”—a half humorous lecture by “the husband of his wife;” which
begins “Ladies, and in some respects, gentlemen,” as this is hardly dramatic
work. There is also a very short skit on the efficiency of provincial fire
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?
The Russian, painfully conscious of his own weakness, has accepted this
point of view, and regards “The Cherry Orchard” as its master-study in
dramatic form. They speak of the palpitating hush which fell upon the
audience of the Moscow Art Theatre after the first fall of the curtain at the
first performance—a hush so intense as to make Chekhov’s friends undergo
the initial emotions of assisting at a vast theatrical failure. But the silence
ryes almost a sob, to be followed, when overcome, by an epic applause.
And, a few months later, Chekhov died.
This volume and that of Marian Fell—with which it is uniform—contain all
the dramatic works of Chekhov. It considered not worth while to translate a
few fragments published posthumously, or a monologue “On the Evils of
Tobacco”—a half humorous lecture by “the husband of his wife;” which
begins “Ladies, and in some respects, gentlemen,” as this is hardly dramatic
work. There is also a very short skit on the efficiency of provincial fire
Page 10
brigades, which was obviously not intended for the stage and has therefore
been omitted.
Lastly, the scheme of transliteration employed has been that, generally
speaking, recommended by the Liverpool School of Russian Studies. This is
distinctly the best of those in the field, but as it would compel one, e.g., to
write a popular female name, “Marya,” I have not treated it absolute
respect. For the sake of uniformity with Fell’s volume, the author’s name is
spelt Tchekoff on the title-page and cover.
J. W.
RUSSIAN WEIGHTS AND MEASURES AND MONEY EMPLOYED IN
THE PLAYS, WITH ENGLISH EQUIVALENTS
1 verst = 3600 feet = 2/3 mile (almost)
1 arshin = 28 inches
1 dessiatin = 2.7 acres
1 copeck = 1/4 d
1 rouble = 100 copecks = 2s. 1d.
been omitted.
Lastly, the scheme of transliteration employed has been that, generally
speaking, recommended by the Liverpool School of Russian Studies. This is
distinctly the best of those in the field, but as it would compel one, e.g., to
write a popular female name, “Marya,” I have not treated it absolute
respect. For the sake of uniformity with Fell’s volume, the author’s name is
spelt Tchekoff on the title-page and cover.
J. W.
RUSSIAN WEIGHTS AND MEASURES AND MONEY EMPLOYED IN
THE PLAYS, WITH ENGLISH EQUIVALENTS
1 verst = 3600 feet = 2/3 mile (almost)
1 arshin = 28 inches
1 dessiatin = 2.7 acres
1 copeck = 1/4 d
1 rouble = 100 copecks = 2s. 1d.
Page 11
Page 12
ON THE HIGH ROAD
A DRAMATIC STUDY
CHARACTERS
TIHON EVSTIGNEYEV, the proprietor of a inn on the main road
SEMYON SERGEYEVITCH BORTSOV, a ruined landowner
MARIA EGOROVNA, his wife
SAVVA, an aged pilgrim
NAZAROVNA and EFIMOVNA, women pilgrims
FEDYA, a labourer
EGOR MERIK, a tramp
KUSMA, a driver
POSTMAN
BORTSOV’S WIFE’S COACHMAN
PILGRIMS, CATTLE-DEALERS, ETC.
The action takes place in one of the provinces of Southern Russia
[The scene is laid in TIHON’S bar. On the right is the bar-counter and
shelves with bottles. At the back is a door leading out of the house. Over it,
on the outside, hangs a dirty red lantern. The floor and the forms, which
stand against the wall, are closely occupied by pilgrims and passers-by.
Many of them, for lack of space, are sleeping as they sit. It is late at night.
As the curtain rises thunder is heard, and lightning is seen through the
door.]
[TIHON is behind the counter. FEDYA is half-lying in a heap on one of the
forms, and is quietly playing on a concertina. Next to him is BORTSOV,
wearing a shabby summer overcoat. SAVVA, NAZAROVNA, and
EFIMOVNA are stretched out on the floor by the benches.]
EFIMOVNA. [To NAZAROVNA] Give the old man a nudge dear! Can’t
get any answer out of him.
NAZAROVNA. [Lifting the corner of a cloth covering of SAVVA’S face]
Are you alive or are you dead, you holy man?
A DRAMATIC STUDY
CHARACTERS
TIHON EVSTIGNEYEV, the proprietor of a inn on the main road
SEMYON SERGEYEVITCH BORTSOV, a ruined landowner
MARIA EGOROVNA, his wife
SAVVA, an aged pilgrim
NAZAROVNA and EFIMOVNA, women pilgrims
FEDYA, a labourer
EGOR MERIK, a tramp
KUSMA, a driver
POSTMAN
BORTSOV’S WIFE’S COACHMAN
PILGRIMS, CATTLE-DEALERS, ETC.
The action takes place in one of the provinces of Southern Russia
[The scene is laid in TIHON’S bar. On the right is the bar-counter and
shelves with bottles. At the back is a door leading out of the house. Over it,
on the outside, hangs a dirty red lantern. The floor and the forms, which
stand against the wall, are closely occupied by pilgrims and passers-by.
Many of them, for lack of space, are sleeping as they sit. It is late at night.
As the curtain rises thunder is heard, and lightning is seen through the
door.]
[TIHON is behind the counter. FEDYA is half-lying in a heap on one of the
forms, and is quietly playing on a concertina. Next to him is BORTSOV,
wearing a shabby summer overcoat. SAVVA, NAZAROVNA, and
EFIMOVNA are stretched out on the floor by the benches.]
EFIMOVNA. [To NAZAROVNA] Give the old man a nudge dear! Can’t
get any answer out of him.
NAZAROVNA. [Lifting the corner of a cloth covering of SAVVA’S face]
Are you alive or are you dead, you holy man?
Page 13
SAVVA. Why should I be dead? I’m alive, mother! [Raises himself on his
elbow] Cover up my feet, there’s a saint! That’s it. A bit more on the right
one. That’s it, mother. God be good to us.
NAZAROVNA. [Wrapping up SAVVA’S feet] Sleep, little father.
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?
NAZAROVNA. God is sending a storm. The wind is wailing, and the rain
is pouring down, pouring down. All down the roof and into the windows
like dried peas. Do you hear? The windows of heaven are opened...
[Thunder] Holy, holy, holy...
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 coming 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.
A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. A silly speech from a silly fool.
FEDYA. I can hear another of them. [Pause.]
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?
FEDYA. You ought to drink a little vodka, grandfather. Drink, and it’ll
burn, burn in your stomach, and warm up your heart. Drink, do!
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!
elbow] Cover up my feet, there’s a saint! That’s it. A bit more on the right
one. That’s it, mother. God be good to us.
NAZAROVNA. [Wrapping up SAVVA’S feet] Sleep, little father.
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?
NAZAROVNA. God is sending a storm. The wind is wailing, and the rain
is pouring down, pouring down. All down the roof and into the windows
like dried peas. Do you hear? The windows of heaven are opened...
[Thunder] Holy, holy, holy...
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 coming 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.
A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. A silly speech from a silly fool.
FEDYA. I can hear another of them. [Pause.]
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?
FEDYA. You ought to drink a little vodka, grandfather. Drink, and it’ll
burn, burn in your stomach, and warm up your heart. Drink, do!
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!
Page 14
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. Are you from far off?
SAVVA. From Vologda. The town itself.... I live there.
FEDYA. And where is this Vologda?
TIHON. The other side of Moscow....
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....
FEDYA. And have you been to Moscow?
SAVVA. Rather! Five times....
FEDYA. Is it a good town? [Smokes] Well-standing?
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!
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. Are you from far off?
SAVVA. From Vologda. The town itself.... I live there.
FEDYA. And where is this Vologda?
TIHON. The other side of Moscow....
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....
FEDYA. And have you been to Moscow?
SAVVA. Rather! Five times....
FEDYA. Is it a good town? [Smokes] Well-standing?
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!
Page 15
FEDYA. The chief thing about a town is that it should be clean. If it’s dusty,
it must be watered; if it’s dirty, it must be cleaned. There ought to be big
houses... a theatre... police... cabs, which... I’ve lived in a town myself, I
understand.
BORTSOV. Just a little glass. I’ll pay you for it later.
TIHON. That’s enough now.
BORTSOV. I ask you! Do be kind to me!
TIHON. Get away!
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. We don’t understand anything.... Get back!
BORTSOV. Because if I don’t have a drink at once, just you understand
this, if I don’t satisfy my needs, I may commit some crime. God only knows
what I might do! In the time you’ve kept this place, you rascal, haven’t you
seen a lot of drunkards, and haven’t you yet got to understand what they’re
like? They’re diseased! You can do anything you like to them, but you must
give them vodka! Well, now, I implore you! Please! I humbly ask you! God
only knows how humbly!
TIHON. You can have the vodka if you pay for it.
BORTSOV. Where am I to get the money? I’ve drunk it all! Down to the
ground! What can I give you? I’ve only got this coat, but I can’t give you
that. I’ve nothing on underneath.... Would you like my cap? [Takes it off
and gives it to TIHON]
TIHON. [Looks it over] Hm.... There are all sorts of caps.... It might be a
sieve from the holes in it....
FEDYA. [Laughs] A gentleman’s cap! You’ve got to take it off in front of
the mam’selles. How do you do, good-bye! How are you?
it must be watered; if it’s dirty, it must be cleaned. There ought to be big
houses... a theatre... police... cabs, which... I’ve lived in a town myself, I
understand.
BORTSOV. Just a little glass. I’ll pay you for it later.
TIHON. That’s enough now.
BORTSOV. I ask you! Do be kind to me!
TIHON. Get away!
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. We don’t understand anything.... Get back!
BORTSOV. Because if I don’t have a drink at once, just you understand
this, if I don’t satisfy my needs, I may commit some crime. God only knows
what I might do! In the time you’ve kept this place, you rascal, haven’t you
seen a lot of drunkards, and haven’t you yet got to understand what they’re
like? They’re diseased! You can do anything you like to them, but you must
give them vodka! Well, now, I implore you! Please! I humbly ask you! God
only knows how humbly!
TIHON. You can have the vodka if you pay for it.
BORTSOV. Where am I to get the money? I’ve drunk it all! Down to the
ground! What can I give you? I’ve only got this coat, but I can’t give you
that. I’ve nothing on underneath.... Would you like my cap? [Takes it off
and gives it to TIHON]
TIHON. [Looks it over] Hm.... There are all sorts of caps.... It might be a
sieve from the holes in it....
FEDYA. [Laughs] A gentleman’s cap! You’ve got to take it off in front of
the mam’selles. How do you do, good-bye! How are you?
Page 16
TIHON. [Returns the cap to BORTSOV] I wouldn’t give anything for it. It’s
muck.
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!
TIHON. Don’t you make me lose my temper, or you’ll soon find yourself
outside!
BORTSOV. What am I to do? [Retires from the bar-counter] What am I to
do? [Is thoughtful.]
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!
BORTSOV. [Angrily] Shut up! Nobody spoke to you, you donkey.
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!
NAZAROVNA. The old man may be saying a prayer, or giving up his soul
to God, and here are these unclean ones wrangling with one another and
saying all sorts of... Have shame on yourselves!
FEDYA. Here, you cabbage-stalk, you keep quiet, even if you are in a
public-house. Just you behave like everybody else.
muck.
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!
TIHON. Don’t you make me lose my temper, or you’ll soon find yourself
outside!
BORTSOV. What am I to do? [Retires from the bar-counter] What am I to
do? [Is thoughtful.]
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!
BORTSOV. [Angrily] Shut up! Nobody spoke to you, you donkey.
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!
NAZAROVNA. The old man may be saying a prayer, or giving up his soul
to God, and here are these unclean ones wrangling with one another and
saying all sorts of... Have shame on yourselves!
FEDYA. Here, you cabbage-stalk, you keep quiet, even if you are in a
public-house. Just you behave like everybody else.
Page 17
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!
SAWA. [Groans] I’ve got shooting-pains in my leg, like bullets of fire....
Little mother, pilgrim.
EFIMOVNA. What is it, little father?
SAVVA. Who’s that crying?
EFIMOVNA. The gentleman.
SAVVA. Ask him to shed a tear for me, that I might die in Vologda. Tearful
prayers are heard.
BORTSOV. I’m not praying, grandfather! These aren’t tears! Just juice! My
soul is crushed; and the juice is running. [Sits by SAVVA] Juice! But you
wouldn’t understand! You, with your darkened brain, wouldn’t understand.
You people are all in the dark!
SAVVA. Where will you find those who live in the light?
BORTSOV. They do exist, grandfather.... They would understand!
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!
FEDYA. And have you ever seen any saints?
SAVVA. It has happened, young man.... There are many of all sorts on this
earth. Sinners, and servants of God.
BORTSOV. I don’t understand all this.... [Gets up quickly] What’s the use
of talking when you don’t understand, and what sort of a brain have I now?
I’ve only an instinct, a thirst! [Goes quickly to the counter] Tihon, take my
coat! Understand? [Tries to take it off] My coat...
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
him understand? What else can I say to him? [To TIHON] The blood’s
boiling in my chest! Uncle Tihon! [Weeps] Uncle Tihon!
SAWA. [Groans] I’ve got shooting-pains in my leg, like bullets of fire....
Little mother, pilgrim.
EFIMOVNA. What is it, little father?
SAVVA. Who’s that crying?
EFIMOVNA. The gentleman.
SAVVA. Ask him to shed a tear for me, that I might die in Vologda. Tearful
prayers are heard.
BORTSOV. I’m not praying, grandfather! These aren’t tears! Just juice! My
soul is crushed; and the juice is running. [Sits by SAVVA] Juice! But you
wouldn’t understand! You, with your darkened brain, wouldn’t understand.
You people are all in the dark!
SAVVA. Where will you find those who live in the light?
BORTSOV. They do exist, grandfather.... They would understand!
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!
FEDYA. And have you ever seen any saints?
SAVVA. It has happened, young man.... There are many of all sorts on this
earth. Sinners, and servants of God.
BORTSOV. I don’t understand all this.... [Gets up quickly] What’s the use
of talking when you don’t understand, and what sort of a brain have I now?
I’ve only an instinct, a thirst! [Goes quickly to the counter] Tihon, take my
coat! Understand? [Tries to take it off] My coat...
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
Page 18
with a sin.
[Enter MERIK.]
BORTSOV. Very well, I’ll take the sin on myself! Do you agree?
MERIK. [In silence takes of his outer cloak and remains in a sleeveless
jacket. He carries an axe in his belt] A vagrant may sweat where a bear will
freeze. I am hot. [Puts his axe on the floor and takes off his jacket] You get
rid of a pailful of sweat while you drag one leg out of the mud. And while
you are dragging it out, the other one goes farther in.
EFIMOVNA. Yes, that’s true... is the rain stopping, dear?
MERIK. [Glancing at EFIMOVNA] I don’t talk to old women. [A pause.]
BORTSOV. [To TIHON] I’ll take the sin on myself. Do you hear me or
don’t you?
TIHON. I don’t want to hear you, get away!
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.
MERIK. Who says that?
FEDYA. Look and see... before you forget.
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. Just look at me.... [A pause.]
TIHON. Oh, yes; I remember. I knew you by your eyes! [Gives him his
hand] Andrey Polikarpov?
[Enter MERIK.]
BORTSOV. Very well, I’ll take the sin on myself! Do you agree?
MERIK. [In silence takes of his outer cloak and remains in a sleeveless
jacket. He carries an axe in his belt] A vagrant may sweat where a bear will
freeze. I am hot. [Puts his axe on the floor and takes off his jacket] You get
rid of a pailful of sweat while you drag one leg out of the mud. And while
you are dragging it out, the other one goes farther in.
EFIMOVNA. Yes, that’s true... is the rain stopping, dear?
MERIK. [Glancing at EFIMOVNA] I don’t talk to old women. [A pause.]
BORTSOV. [To TIHON] I’ll take the sin on myself. Do you hear me or
don’t you?
TIHON. I don’t want to hear you, get away!
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.
MERIK. Who says that?
FEDYA. Look and see... before you forget.
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. Just look at me.... [A pause.]
TIHON. Oh, yes; I remember. I knew you by your eyes! [Gives him his
hand] Andrey Polikarpov?
Page 19
MERIK. I used to be Andrey Polikarpov, but now I am Egor Merik.
TIHON. Why’s that?
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.
TIHON. Where’s the devil taking you to?
MERIK. To Kuban.
TIHON. My word!
FEDYA. To Kuban? Really? [Sitting up] It’s a fine place. You wouldn’t see
such a country, brother, if you were to fall asleep and dream for three years.
They say the birds there, and the beasts are—my God! The grass grows all
the year round, the people are good, and they’ve so much land they don’t
know what to do with it! The authorities, they say... a soldier was telling me
the other day... give a hundred dessiatins ahead. There’s happiness, God
strike me!
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.
EFIMOVNA. [To MERIK] What great, angry, eyes! There’s an enemy in
you, young man.... Don’t you look at us!
MERIK. Yes, you’re a poor lot here.
EFIMOVNA. Turn away! [Nudges SAVVA] Savva, darling, a wicked man
is looking at us. He’ll do us harm, dear. [To MERIK] Turn away, I tell you,
TIHON. Why’s that?
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.
TIHON. Where’s the devil taking you to?
MERIK. To Kuban.
TIHON. My word!
FEDYA. To Kuban? Really? [Sitting up] It’s a fine place. You wouldn’t see
such a country, brother, if you were to fall asleep and dream for three years.
They say the birds there, and the beasts are—my God! The grass grows all
the year round, the people are good, and they’ve so much land they don’t
know what to do with it! The authorities, they say... a soldier was telling me
the other day... give a hundred dessiatins ahead. There’s happiness, God
strike me!
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.
EFIMOVNA. [To MERIK] What great, angry, eyes! There’s an enemy in
you, young man.... Don’t you look at us!
MERIK. Yes, you’re a poor lot here.
EFIMOVNA. Turn away! [Nudges SAVVA] Savva, darling, a wicked man
is looking at us. He’ll do us harm, dear. [To MERIK] Turn away, I tell you,
Page 20
you snake!
SAVVA. He won’t touch us, mother, he won’t touch us.... God won’t let
him.
MERIK. All right, Orthodox brothers! [Shrugs his shoulders] Be quiet! You
aren’t asleep, you bandy-legged fools! Why don’t you say something?
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?
FEDYA. I live in these parts. I work at the Khamonyevsky brickworks.
MERIK. Get up.
FEDYA. [Raising himself] Well?
MERIK. Get up, right up. I’m going to lie down here.
FEDYA. What’s that.... It isn’t your place, is it?
MERIK. Yes, mine. Go and lie on the ground!
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. [Stretching himself out on the bench] I don’t expect you’ve ever
seen a devil or you wouldn’t call me one. Devils aren’t like that. [Lies
SAVVA. He won’t touch us, mother, he won’t touch us.... God won’t let
him.
MERIK. All right, Orthodox brothers! [Shrugs his shoulders] Be quiet! You
aren’t asleep, you bandy-legged fools! Why don’t you say something?
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?
FEDYA. I live in these parts. I work at the Khamonyevsky brickworks.
MERIK. Get up.
FEDYA. [Raising himself] Well?
MERIK. Get up, right up. I’m going to lie down here.
FEDYA. What’s that.... It isn’t your place, is it?
MERIK. Yes, mine. Go and lie on the ground!
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. [Stretching himself out on the bench] I don’t expect you’ve ever
seen a devil or you wouldn’t call me one. Devils aren’t like that. [Lies
Page 21
down, putting his axe next to him.] Lie down, little brother axe... let me
cover you.
TIHON. Where did you get the axe from?
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.
FEDYA. [Uncovering his head] What are they like?
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!
SAVVA. [Raising himself] Little children, don’t talk about these unclean
things! It’s a sin, dears!
MERIK. Aaa... greybeard! You skeleton! [Laughs] You needn’t go to the
churchyard to see ghosts, when they get up from under the floor to give
advice to their relations.... A sin!... Don’t you teach people your silly
notions! You’re an ignorant lot of people living in darkness.... [Lights his
pipe] My father was peasant and used to be fond of teaching people. One
cover you.
TIHON. Where did you get the axe from?
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.
FEDYA. [Uncovering his head] What are they like?
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!
SAVVA. [Raising himself] Little children, don’t talk about these unclean
things! It’s a sin, dears!
MERIK. Aaa... greybeard! You skeleton! [Laughs] You needn’t go to the
churchyard to see ghosts, when they get up from under the floor to give
advice to their relations.... A sin!... Don’t you teach people your silly
notions! You’re an ignorant lot of people living in darkness.... [Lights his
pipe] My father was peasant and used to be fond of teaching people. One
Page 22
night he stole a sack of apples from the village priest, and he brings them
along and tells us, “Look, children, mind you don’t eat any apples before
Easter, it’s a sin.” You’re like that.... You don’t know what a devil is, but
you go calling people devils.... Take this crooked old woman, for instance.
[Points to EFIMOVNA] She sees an enemy in me, but is her time, for some
woman’s nonsense or other, she’s given her soul to the devil five times.
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!
MERIK. [Stretching himself] Eh, to show my strength! [The door slams
again] If I could only measure myself against the wind! Shall I tear the door
down, or suppose I tear up the inn by the roots! [Gets up and lies down
again] How dull!
NAZAROVNA. You’d better pray, you heathen! Why are you so restless?
EFIMOVNA. Don’t speak to him, leave him alone! He’s looking at us
again. [To MERIK] Don’t look at us, evil man! Your eyes are like the eyes
of a devil before cockcrow!
SAVVA. Let him look, pilgrims! You pray, and his eyes won’t do you any
harm.
BORTSOV. No, I can’t. It’s too much for my strength! [Goes up to the
counter] Listen, Tihon, I ask you for the last time.... Just half a glass!
TIHON. [Shakes his head] The money!
BORTSOV. My God, haven’t I told you! I’ve drunk it all! Where am I to
get it? And you won’t go broke even if you do let me have a drop of vodka
on tick. A glass of it only costs you two copecks, and it will save me from
suffering! I am suffering! Understand! I’m in misery, I’m suffering!
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.
along and tells us, “Look, children, mind you don’t eat any apples before
Easter, it’s a sin.” You’re like that.... You don’t know what a devil is, but
you go calling people devils.... Take this crooked old woman, for instance.
[Points to EFIMOVNA] She sees an enemy in me, but is her time, for some
woman’s nonsense or other, she’s given her soul to the devil five times.
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!
MERIK. [Stretching himself] Eh, to show my strength! [The door slams
again] If I could only measure myself against the wind! Shall I tear the door
down, or suppose I tear up the inn by the roots! [Gets up and lies down
again] How dull!
NAZAROVNA. You’d better pray, you heathen! Why are you so restless?
EFIMOVNA. Don’t speak to him, leave him alone! He’s looking at us
again. [To MERIK] Don’t look at us, evil man! Your eyes are like the eyes
of a devil before cockcrow!
SAVVA. Let him look, pilgrims! You pray, and his eyes won’t do you any
harm.
BORTSOV. No, I can’t. It’s too much for my strength! [Goes up to the
counter] Listen, Tihon, I ask you for the last time.... Just half a glass!
TIHON. [Shakes his head] The money!
BORTSOV. My God, haven’t I told you! I’ve drunk it all! Where am I to
get it? And you won’t go broke even if you do let me have a drop of vodka
on tick. A glass of it only costs you two copecks, and it will save me from
suffering! I am suffering! Understand! I’m in misery, I’m suffering!
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.
Page 23
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?
BORTSOV. How I am degrading myself! I don’t want it! I don’t want
anything! I was joking!
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.]
BORTSOV. But if I can’t drink, I’ll commit a crime or I’ll kill myself....
What shall I do, my God! [Looks through the door] Shall I go out, then?
Out into this darkness, wherever my feet take me....
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.
SAVVA. Don’t talk, kind man!
MERIK. Quiet, old wolf! You’re a savage race! Herods! Sellers of your
souls! [To TIHON] Come here, take off my boots! Look sharp now!
TIHON. Eh, he’s let himself go I [Laughs] Awful, isn’t it.
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]
TIHON. Well... give over.
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?
BORTSOV. How I am degrading myself! I don’t want it! I don’t want
anything! I was joking!
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.]
BORTSOV. But if I can’t drink, I’ll commit a crime or I’ll kill myself....
What shall I do, my God! [Looks through the door] Shall I go out, then?
Out into this darkness, wherever my feet take me....
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.
SAVVA. Don’t talk, kind man!
MERIK. Quiet, old wolf! You’re a savage race! Herods! Sellers of your
souls! [To TIHON] Come here, take off my boots! Look sharp now!
TIHON. Eh, he’s let himself go I [Laughs] Awful, isn’t it.
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]
TIHON. Well... give over.
Page 24
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!
MERIK. People, what do I want? Do I want him to stand me vodka, or to
take off my boots? Didn’t I say it properly? [To TIHON] Didn’t you hear
me rightly? I’ll wait a moment, perhaps you’ll hear me then.
[There is excitement among the pilgrims and tramps, who half-raise
themselves in order to look at TIHON and MERIK. They wait in silence.]
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!
TIHON. [Returns to the bar-counter] You’re too fond of being clever. You
do it again and I’ll turn you out of the inn! Yes! [To BORTSOV, who is
approaching] You, again?
BORTSOV. Look here, suppose I give you something made of gold.... I will
give it to you.
TIHON. What are you shaking for? Talk sense!
BORTSOV. It may be mean and wicked on my part, but what am I to do?
I’m doing this wicked thing, not reckoning on what’s to come.... If I was
tried for it, they’d let me off. Take it, only on condition that you return it
later, when I come back from town. I give it to you in front of these
witnesses. You will be my witnesses! [Takes a gold medallion out from the
breast of his coat] Here it is.... I ought to take the portrait out, but I’ve
nowhere to put it; I’m wet all over.... Well, take the portrait, too! Only mind
this... don’t let your fingers touch that face.... Please... I was rude to you,
my dear fellow, I was a fool, but forgive me and... don’t touch it with your
fingers.... Don’t look at that face with your eyes. [Gives TIHON the
medallion.]
TIHON. [Examining it] Stolen property.... All right, then, drink.... [Pours
out vodka] Confound you.
TIHON. Well, well... don’t get excited. Here have a glass.... Have a drink,
now!
MERIK. People, what do I want? Do I want him to stand me vodka, or to
take off my boots? Didn’t I say it properly? [To TIHON] Didn’t you hear
me rightly? I’ll wait a moment, perhaps you’ll hear me then.
[There is excitement among the pilgrims and tramps, who half-raise
themselves in order to look at TIHON and MERIK. They wait in silence.]
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!
TIHON. [Returns to the bar-counter] You’re too fond of being clever. You
do it again and I’ll turn you out of the inn! Yes! [To BORTSOV, who is
approaching] You, again?
BORTSOV. Look here, suppose I give you something made of gold.... I will
give it to you.
TIHON. What are you shaking for? Talk sense!
BORTSOV. It may be mean and wicked on my part, but what am I to do?
I’m doing this wicked thing, not reckoning on what’s to come.... If I was
tried for it, they’d let me off. Take it, only on condition that you return it
later, when I come back from town. I give it to you in front of these
witnesses. You will be my witnesses! [Takes a gold medallion out from the
breast of his coat] Here it is.... I ought to take the portrait out, but I’ve
nowhere to put it; I’m wet all over.... Well, take the portrait, too! Only mind
this... don’t let your fingers touch that face.... Please... I was rude to you,
my dear fellow, I was a fool, but forgive me and... don’t touch it with your
fingers.... Don’t look at that face with your eyes. [Gives TIHON the
medallion.]
TIHON. [Examining it] Stolen property.... All right, then, drink.... [Pours
out vodka] Confound you.
Page 25
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?
MERIK. Let’s have a look. [Goes to the bar] Let’s see.
TIHON. [Pushes his hand away] Where are you going to? You look
somewhere else!
FEDYA. [Gets up and comes to TIHON] I want to look too!
[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.]
MERIK. A pretty she-devil. A real lady....
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!
FEDYA. Oh, you devil!
TIHON. Don’t wave your arms about, or you’ll hit somebody.
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.]
with feverish pauses.]
TIHON. [Opens the medallion] Hm... a lady!... Where did you get hold of
this?
MERIK. Let’s have a look. [Goes to the bar] Let’s see.
TIHON. [Pushes his hand away] Where are you going to? You look
somewhere else!
FEDYA. [Gets up and comes to TIHON] I want to look too!
[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.]
MERIK. A pretty she-devil. A real lady....
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!
FEDYA. Oh, you devil!
TIHON. Don’t wave your arms about, or you’ll hit somebody.
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.]
Page 26
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. Have you been long on this earth, old woman?
EFIMOVNA. Over seventy years, little father.
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!
MERIK. [To KUSMA] Who is it?
KUSMA. A miserable sufferer. [Paces irritably by the counter] Eh? In an
inn, my goodness! Tattered! Drunk! I’m upset, brothers... upset.... [To
MERIK, in an undertone] It’s my master... our landlord. Semyon
Sergeyevitch and Mr. Bortsov.... Have you ever seen such a state? What
does he look like? Just... it’s the drink that brought him to this.... Give me
some more! [Drinks] I come from his village, Bortsovka; you may have
heard of it, it’s 200 versts from here, in the Ergovsky district. We used to be
his father’s serfs.... What a shame!
MERIK. Was he rich?
KUSMA. Very.
MERIK. Did he drink it all?
KUSMA. No, my friend, it was something else.... He used to be great and
rich and sober.... [To TIHON] Why you yourself used to see him riding, as
he used to, past this inn, on his way to the town. Such bold and noble
horses! A carriage on springs, of the best quality! He used to own five
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. Have you been long on this earth, old woman?
EFIMOVNA. Over seventy years, little father.
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!
MERIK. [To KUSMA] Who is it?
KUSMA. A miserable sufferer. [Paces irritably by the counter] Eh? In an
inn, my goodness! Tattered! Drunk! I’m upset, brothers... upset.... [To
MERIK, in an undertone] It’s my master... our landlord. Semyon
Sergeyevitch and Mr. Bortsov.... Have you ever seen such a state? What
does he look like? Just... it’s the drink that brought him to this.... Give me
some more! [Drinks] I come from his village, Bortsovka; you may have
heard of it, it’s 200 versts from here, in the Ergovsky district. We used to be
his father’s serfs.... What a shame!
MERIK. Was he rich?
KUSMA. Very.
MERIK. Did he drink it all?
KUSMA. No, my friend, it was something else.... He used to be great and
rich and sober.... [To TIHON] Why you yourself used to see him riding, as
he used to, past this inn, on his way to the town. Such bold and noble
horses! A carriage on springs, of the best quality! He used to own five
Page 27
troikas, brother.... Five years ago, I remember, he cam here driving two
horses from Mikishinsky, and he paid with a five-rouble piece.... I haven’t
the time, he says, to wait for the change.... There!
MERIK. His brain’s gone, I suppose.
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.]
MERIK. [In a semitone] And did she love him?
KUSMA. [In a semitone which gradually becomes his ordinary voice] How
shouldn’t she? He was a man of means.... Of course you’ll fall in love when
the man has a thousand dessiatins and money to burn.... He was a solid,
dignified, sober gentleman... always the same, like this... give me your hand
[Takes MERIK’S hand] “How do you do and good-bye, do me the favour.”
Well, I was going one evening past his garden—and what a garden, brother,
versts of it—I was going along quietly, and I look and see the two of them
sitting on a seat and kissing each other. [Imitates the sound] He kisses her
once, and the snake gives him back two.... He was holding her white, little
hand, and she was all fiery and kept on getting closer and closer, too.... “I
love you,” she says. And he, like one of the damned, walks about from one
place to another and brags, the coward, about his happiness.... Gives one
horses from Mikishinsky, and he paid with a five-rouble piece.... I haven’t
the time, he says, to wait for the change.... There!
MERIK. His brain’s gone, I suppose.
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.]
MERIK. [In a semitone] And did she love him?
KUSMA. [In a semitone which gradually becomes his ordinary voice] How
shouldn’t she? He was a man of means.... Of course you’ll fall in love when
the man has a thousand dessiatins and money to burn.... He was a solid,
dignified, sober gentleman... always the same, like this... give me your hand
[Takes MERIK’S hand] “How do you do and good-bye, do me the favour.”
Well, I was going one evening past his garden—and what a garden, brother,
versts of it—I was going along quietly, and I look and see the two of them
sitting on a seat and kissing each other. [Imitates the sound] He kisses her
once, and the snake gives him back two.... He was holding her white, little
hand, and she was all fiery and kept on getting closer and closer, too.... “I
love you,” she says. And he, like one of the damned, walks about from one
place to another and brags, the coward, about his happiness.... Gives one
Page 28
man a rouble, and two to another.... Gives me money for a horse. Let off
everybody’s debts....
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.]
FEDYA. Don’t shout; tell us quietly....
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!
MERIK. [Thoughtfully] Well... what happened then?
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.]
TIHON. The post’s late to-day!
[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....
everybody’s debts....
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.]
FEDYA. Don’t shout; tell us quietly....
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!
MERIK. [Thoughtfully] Well... what happened then?
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.]
TIHON. The post’s late to-day!
[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....
Page 29
KUSMA. Do you want to smell the inside of a prison?
MERIK. People rob and don’t go to prison. And if I do go! [Suddenly]
What else?
KUSMA. Do you mean that unfortunate?
MERIK. Who else?
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. [Sighs] When God gives a man strength....
KUSMA. There’s all sorts of strength, that’s true.... Well? How much does
it come to? [Pays] Take your pound of flesh! Good-bye, children! Good-
night and pleasant dreams! It’s time I hurried off. I’m bringing my lady a
midwife from the hospital.... She must be getting wet with waiting, poor
thing.... [Runs out. A pause.]
TIHON. Oh, you! Unhappy man, come and drink this! [Pours out.]
BORTSOV. [Comes up to the bar hesitatingly and drinks] That means I now
owe you for two glasses.
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,
MERIK. People rob and don’t go to prison. And if I do go! [Suddenly]
What else?
KUSMA. Do you mean that unfortunate?
MERIK. Who else?
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. [Sighs] When God gives a man strength....
KUSMA. There’s all sorts of strength, that’s true.... Well? How much does
it come to? [Pays] Take your pound of flesh! Good-bye, children! Good-
night and pleasant dreams! It’s time I hurried off. I’m bringing my lady a
midwife from the hospital.... She must be getting wet with waiting, poor
thing.... [Runs out. A pause.]
TIHON. Oh, you! Unhappy man, come and drink this! [Pours out.]
BORTSOV. [Comes up to the bar hesitatingly and drinks] That means I now
owe you for two glasses.
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,
Page 30
but by God you’re easier when you’ve got some! Vodka takes grief away....
It is hot!
BORTSOV. Boo! The heat!
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.
MERIK. [Dashes the medallion to the ground] Curse her! [Goes quickly to
his place and lies down, face to the wall. General excitement.]
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!
TIHON. Don’t be angry, sir.... It isn’t glass, it isn’t broken.... Have another
drink and go to sleep. [Pours out] Here I’ve been listening to you all, and
when I ought to have locked up long ago. [Goes and looks door leading
out.]
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.
FEDYA. It’s time! [Lies down] Pleasant dreams, brothers!
MERIK. [Gets up and spreads his short fur and coat the bench] Come on,
lie down, sir.
TIHON. And where will you sleep.
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....
It is hot!
BORTSOV. Boo! The heat!
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.
MERIK. [Dashes the medallion to the ground] Curse her! [Goes quickly to
his place and lies down, face to the wall. General excitement.]
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!
TIHON. Don’t be angry, sir.... It isn’t glass, it isn’t broken.... Have another
drink and go to sleep. [Pours out] Here I’ve been listening to you all, and
when I ought to have locked up long ago. [Goes and looks door leading
out.]
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.
FEDYA. It’s time! [Lies down] Pleasant dreams, brothers!
MERIK. [Gets up and spreads his short fur and coat the bench] Come on,
lie down, sir.
TIHON. And where will you sleep.
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....
Page 31
TIHON. [To BORTSOV] Lie down, your honour! You’ve looked at that
portrait long enough. [Puts out a candle] Throw it away!
BORTSOV. [Swaying about] Where can I lie down?
TIHON. In the tramp’s place! Didn’t you hear him giving it up to you?
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.
FEDYA. How the wind howls. It’s dreary!
BORTSOV. [Laughs] What a woman.... Why do you keep on going round?
I can’t catch you!
MERIK. He’s wandering. Looked too long at the portrait. [Laughs] What a
business! Educated people go and invent all sorts of machines and
medicines, but there hasn’t yet been a man wise enough to invent a
medicine against the female sex.... They try to cure every sort of disease,
and it never occurs to them that more people die of women than of
disease.... Sly, stingy, cruel, brainless.... The mother-in-law torments the
bride and the bride makes things square by swindling the husband... and
there’s no end to it....
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?
portrait long enough. [Puts out a candle] Throw it away!
BORTSOV. [Swaying about] Where can I lie down?
TIHON. In the tramp’s place! Didn’t you hear him giving it up to you?
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.
FEDYA. How the wind howls. It’s dreary!
BORTSOV. [Laughs] What a woman.... Why do you keep on going round?
I can’t catch you!
MERIK. He’s wandering. Looked too long at the portrait. [Laughs] What a
business! Educated people go and invent all sorts of machines and
medicines, but there hasn’t yet been a man wise enough to invent a
medicine against the female sex.... They try to cure every sort of disease,
and it never occurs to them that more people die of women than of
disease.... Sly, stingy, cruel, brainless.... The mother-in-law torments the
bride and the bride makes things square by swindling the husband... and
there’s no end to it....
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?
Page 32
FEDYA. Because of women?
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....
FEDYA. What did you do to her?
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!
A VOICE. Please let me in, Tihon. The carriage-spring’s broken! Be a
father to me and help me! If I only had a little string to tie it round with,
we’d get there somehow or other.
TIHON. Who are you?
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. Pleased to hear it!
[Opens door. The COACHMAN enters.]
COACHMAN. Good evening, Orthodox people! Well, give me the string!
Quick! Who’ll go and help us, children? There’ll be something left over for
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....
FEDYA. What did you do to her?
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!
A VOICE. Please let me in, Tihon. The carriage-spring’s broken! Be a
father to me and help me! If I only had a little string to tie it round with,
we’d get there somehow or other.
TIHON. Who are you?
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. Pleased to hear it!
[Opens door. The COACHMAN enters.]
COACHMAN. Good evening, Orthodox people! Well, give me the string!
Quick! Who’ll go and help us, children? There’ll be something left over for
Page 33
your trouble!
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!
TIHON. Yes, madam. [Runs and opens the door wide.]
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
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!
TIHON. Yes, madam. [Runs and opens the door wide.]
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
Page 34
you must excuse me, madam, I can’t do this for ten roubles.... Make it
fifteen.
MARIA EGOROVNA. Very well, only be quick.
TIHON. This minute... this very instant. [Drags some string out from under
the counter] This minute. [A pause.]
BORTSOV. [Looking at MARIA EGOROVNA] Marie... Masha...
MARIA EGOROVNA. [Looks at BORTSOV] What’s this?
BORTSOV. Marie... is it you? Where do you come from? [MARIA
EGOROVNA recognizes BORTSOV, screams and runs off into the centre
of the floor. BORTSOV follows] Marie, it is I... I [Laughs loudly] My wife!
Marie! Where am I? People, a light!
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!
BORTSOV. Her voice, her movements.... Marie, it is I! I’ll stop in a
moment.... I was drunk.... My head’s going round.... My God! Stop, stop....
I can’t understand anything. [Yells] My wife! [Falls at her feet and sobs. A
group collects around the husband and wife.]
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!
MERIK. [Note: Throughout this speech, in the original, Merik uses the
familiar second person singular.] Wait a bit, and I’ll let go.... Just let me say
one word to you.... One word, so that you may understand.... Just wait....
[Turns to TIHON and DENIS] Get away, you rogues, let go! I shan’t let you
go till I’ve had my say! Stop... one moment. [Strikes his forehead with his
fifteen.
MARIA EGOROVNA. Very well, only be quick.
TIHON. This minute... this very instant. [Drags some string out from under
the counter] This minute. [A pause.]
BORTSOV. [Looking at MARIA EGOROVNA] Marie... Masha...
MARIA EGOROVNA. [Looks at BORTSOV] What’s this?
BORTSOV. Marie... is it you? Where do you come from? [MARIA
EGOROVNA recognizes BORTSOV, screams and runs off into the centre
of the floor. BORTSOV follows] Marie, it is I... I [Laughs loudly] My wife!
Marie! Where am I? People, a light!
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!
BORTSOV. Her voice, her movements.... Marie, it is I! I’ll stop in a
moment.... I was drunk.... My head’s going round.... My God! Stop, stop....
I can’t understand anything. [Yells] My wife! [Falls at her feet and sobs. A
group collects around the husband and wife.]
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!
MERIK. [Note: Throughout this speech, in the original, Merik uses the
familiar second person singular.] Wait a bit, and I’ll let go.... Just let me say
one word to you.... One word, so that you may understand.... Just wait....
[Turns to TIHON and DENIS] Get away, you rogues, let go! I shan’t let you
go till I’ve had my say! Stop... one moment. [Strikes his forehead with his
Page 35
fist] No, God hasn’t given me the wisdom! I can’t think of the word for
you!
MARIA EGOROVNA. [Tears away her hand] Get away! Drunkards... let’s
go, Denis!
[She tries to go out, but MERIK blocks the door.]
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!
MARIA EGOROVNA. Take away this... fool.
MERIK. Then the devil take you, you accursed woman!
[He swings his axe. General confusion. Everybody jumps up noisily and
with cries of horror. SAVVA stands between MERIK and MARIA
EGOROVNA.... DENIS forces MERIK to one side and carries out his
mistress. After this all stand as if turned to stone. A prolonged pause.
BORTSOV suddenly waves his hands in the air.]
BORTSOV. Marie... where are you, Marie!
NAZAROVNA. My God, my God! You’ve torn up my your murderers!
What an accursed night!
MERIK. [Lowering his hand; he still holds the axe] Did I kill her or no?
HIGH ROAD
TIHON. Thank God, your head is safe....
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.
you!
MARIA EGOROVNA. [Tears away her hand] Get away! Drunkards... let’s
go, Denis!
[She tries to go out, but MERIK blocks the door.]
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!
MARIA EGOROVNA. Take away this... fool.
MERIK. Then the devil take you, you accursed woman!
[He swings his axe. General confusion. Everybody jumps up noisily and
with cries of horror. SAVVA stands between MERIK and MARIA
EGOROVNA.... DENIS forces MERIK to one side and carries out his
mistress. After this all stand as if turned to stone. A prolonged pause.
BORTSOV suddenly waves his hands in the air.]
BORTSOV. Marie... where are you, Marie!
NAZAROVNA. My God, my God! You’ve torn up my your murderers!
What an accursed night!
MERIK. [Lowering his hand; he still holds the axe] Did I kill her or no?
HIGH ROAD
TIHON. Thank God, your head is safe....
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.
Page 36
THE PROPOSAL
CHARACTERS
STEPAN STEPANOVITCH CHUBUKOV, a landowner
NATALYA STEPANOVNA, his daughter, twenty-five years old
IVAN VASSILEVITCH LOMOV, a neighbour of Chubukov, a large and
hearty, but very suspicious landowner
The scene is laid at CHUBUKOV’s country-house
A drawing-room in CHUBUKOV’S house.
[LOMOV enters, wearing a dress-jacket and white gloves. CHUBUKOV
rises to meet him.]
CHUBUKOV. My dear fellow, whom do I see! Ivan Vassilevitch! I am
extremely glad! [Squeezes his hand] Now this is a surprise, my darling...
How are you?
LOMOV. Thank you. And how may you be getting on?
CHUBUKOV. We just get along somehow, my angel, to your prayers, and
so on. Sit down, please do.... Now, you know, you shouldn’t forget all about
your neighbours, my darling. My dear fellow, why are you so formal in
your get-up? Evening dress, gloves, and so on. Can you be going anywhere,
my treasure?
LOMOV. No, I’ve come only to see you, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch.
CHUBUKOV. Then why are you in evening dress, my precious? As if
you’re paying a New Year’s Eve visit!
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.]
CHARACTERS
STEPAN STEPANOVITCH CHUBUKOV, a landowner
NATALYA STEPANOVNA, his daughter, twenty-five years old
IVAN VASSILEVITCH LOMOV, a neighbour of Chubukov, a large and
hearty, but very suspicious landowner
The scene is laid at CHUBUKOV’s country-house
A drawing-room in CHUBUKOV’S house.
[LOMOV enters, wearing a dress-jacket and white gloves. CHUBUKOV
rises to meet him.]
CHUBUKOV. My dear fellow, whom do I see! Ivan Vassilevitch! I am
extremely glad! [Squeezes his hand] Now this is a surprise, my darling...
How are you?
LOMOV. Thank you. And how may you be getting on?
CHUBUKOV. We just get along somehow, my angel, to your prayers, and
so on. Sit down, please do.... Now, you know, you shouldn’t forget all about
your neighbours, my darling. My dear fellow, why are you so formal in
your get-up? Evening dress, gloves, and so on. Can you be going anywhere,
my treasure?
LOMOV. No, I’ve come only to see you, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch.
CHUBUKOV. Then why are you in evening dress, my precious? As if
you’re paying a New Year’s Eve visit!
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.]
Page 37
CHUBUKOV. [Aside] He’s come to borrow money! Shan’t give him any!
[Aloud] What is it, my beauty?
LOMOV. You see, Honour Stepanitch... I beg pardon, Stepan Honouritch...
I mean, I’m awfully excited, as you will please notice.... In short, you alone
can help me, though I don’t deserve it, of course... and haven’t any right to
count on your assistance....
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. [Joyfully] By Jove! Ivan Vassilevitch! Say it again—I didn’t
hear it all!
LOMOV. I have the honour to ask...
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. [Greatly moved] Honoured Stepan Stepanovitch, do you think I
may count on her consent?
CHUBUKOV. Why, of course, my darling, and... as if she won’t consent!
She’s in love; egad, she’s like a love-sick cat, and so on.... Shan’t be long!
[Exit.]
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
[Aloud] What is it, my beauty?
LOMOV. You see, Honour Stepanitch... I beg pardon, Stepan Honouritch...
I mean, I’m awfully excited, as you will please notice.... In short, you alone
can help me, though I don’t deserve it, of course... and haven’t any right to
count on your assistance....
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. [Joyfully] By Jove! Ivan Vassilevitch! Say it again—I didn’t
hear it all!
LOMOV. I have the honour to ask...
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. [Greatly moved] Honoured Stepan Stepanovitch, do you think I
may count on her consent?
CHUBUKOV. Why, of course, my darling, and... as if she won’t consent!
She’s in love; egad, she’s like a love-sick cat, and so on.... Shan’t be long!
[Exit.]
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
Page 38
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 comes in.]
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!
LOMOV. How do you do, honoured Natalya Stepanovna?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. You must excuse my apron and négligé...
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?
LOMOV. No, thank you, I’ve had some already.
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’s the matter? [Pause] Well?
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 comes in.]
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!
LOMOV. How do you do, honoured Natalya Stepanovna?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. You must excuse my apron and négligé...
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?
LOMOV. No, thank you, I’ve had some already.
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’s the matter? [Pause] Well?
Page 39
LOMOV. I shall try to be brief. You must know, honoured Natalya
Stepanovna, that I have long, since my childhood, in fact, had the privilege
of knowing your family. My late aunt and her husband, from whom, as you
know, I inherited my land, always had the greatest respect for your father
and your late mother. The Lomovs and the Chubukovs have always had the
most friendly, and I might almost say the most affectionate, regard for each
other. And, as you know, my land is a near neighbour of yours. You will
remember that my Oxen Meadows touch your birchwoods.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Excuse my interrupting you. You say, “my
Oxen Meadows....” But are they yours?
LOMOV. Yes, mine.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What are you talking about? Oxen Meadows
are ours, not yours!
LOMOV. No, mine, honoured Natalya Stepanovna.
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.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Yes, yes.... They’re ours.
LOMOV. No, you’re mistaken, honoured Natalya Stepanovna, they’re
mine.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Just think, Ivan Vassilevitch! How long have
they been yours?
LOMOV. How long? As long as I can remember.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Really, you won’t get me to believe that!
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
Stepanovna, that I have long, since my childhood, in fact, had the privilege
of knowing your family. My late aunt and her husband, from whom, as you
know, I inherited my land, always had the greatest respect for your father
and your late mother. The Lomovs and the Chubukovs have always had the
most friendly, and I might almost say the most affectionate, regard for each
other. And, as you know, my land is a near neighbour of yours. You will
remember that my Oxen Meadows touch your birchwoods.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Excuse my interrupting you. You say, “my
Oxen Meadows....” But are they yours?
LOMOV. Yes, mine.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What are you talking about? Oxen Meadows
are ours, not yours!
LOMOV. No, mine, honoured Natalya Stepanovna.
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.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Yes, yes.... They’re ours.
LOMOV. No, you’re mistaken, honoured Natalya Stepanovna, they’re
mine.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Just think, Ivan Vassilevitch! How long have
they been yours?
LOMOV. How long? As long as I can remember.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Really, you won’t get me to believe that!
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
Page 40
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, it isn’t at all like that! Both my
grandfather and great-grandfather reckoned that their land extended to
Burnt Marsh—which means that Oxen Meadows were ours. I don’t see
what there is to argue about. It’s simply silly!
LOMOV. I’ll show you the documents, Natalya Stepanovna!
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. Hear me out, I implore you! The peasants of your father’s
grandfather, as I have already had the honour of explaining to you, used to
bake bricks for my aunt’s grandmother. Now my aunt’s grandmother,
wishing to make them a pleasant...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I can’t make head or tail of all this about aunts
and grandfathers and grandmothers! The Meadows are ours, and that’s all.
LOMOV. Mine.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Ours! You can go on proving it for two days
on end, you can go and put on fifteen dress-jackets, but I tell you they’re
ours, ours, ours! I don’t want anything of yours and I don’t want to give up
anything of mine. So there!
LOMOV. Natalya Ivanovna, I don’t want the Meadows, but I am acting on
principle. If you like, I’ll make you a present of them.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I can make you a present of them myself,
because they’re mine! Your behaviour, Ivan Vassilevitch, is strange, to say
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, it isn’t at all like that! Both my
grandfather and great-grandfather reckoned that their land extended to
Burnt Marsh—which means that Oxen Meadows were ours. I don’t see
what there is to argue about. It’s simply silly!
LOMOV. I’ll show you the documents, Natalya Stepanovna!
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. Hear me out, I implore you! The peasants of your father’s
grandfather, as I have already had the honour of explaining to you, used to
bake bricks for my aunt’s grandmother. Now my aunt’s grandmother,
wishing to make them a pleasant...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I can’t make head or tail of all this about aunts
and grandfathers and grandmothers! The Meadows are ours, and that’s all.
LOMOV. Mine.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Ours! You can go on proving it for two days
on end, you can go and put on fifteen dress-jackets, but I tell you they’re
ours, ours, ours! I don’t want anything of yours and I don’t want to give up
anything of mine. So there!
LOMOV. Natalya Ivanovna, I don’t want the Meadows, but I am acting on
principle. If you like, I’ll make you a present of them.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I can make you a present of them myself,
because they’re mine! Your behaviour, Ivan Vassilevitch, is strange, to say
Page 41
the least! Up to this we have always thought of you as a good neighbour, a
friend: last year we lent you our threshing-machine, although on that
account we had to put off our own threshing till November, but you behave
to us as if we were gipsies. Giving me my own land, indeed! No, really,
that’s not at all neighbourly! In my opinion, it’s even impudent, if you want
to know....
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!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s not true, they’re ours!
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?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. My mowers will be there this very day!
LOMOV. I’ll give it to them in the neck!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. You dare!
LOMOV. [Clutches at his heart] Oxen Meadows are mine! You understand?
Mine!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Please don’t shout! You can shout yourself
hoarse in your own house, but here I must ask you to restrain yourself!
LOMOV. If it wasn’t, madam, for this awful, excruciating palpitation, if my
whole inside wasn’t upset, I’d talk to you in a different way! [Yells] Oxen
Meadows are mine!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Ours!
LOMOV. Mine!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Ours!
friend: last year we lent you our threshing-machine, although on that
account we had to put off our own threshing till November, but you behave
to us as if we were gipsies. Giving me my own land, indeed! No, really,
that’s not at all neighbourly! In my opinion, it’s even impudent, if you want
to know....
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!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s not true, they’re ours!
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?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. My mowers will be there this very day!
LOMOV. I’ll give it to them in the neck!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. You dare!
LOMOV. [Clutches at his heart] Oxen Meadows are mine! You understand?
Mine!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Please don’t shout! You can shout yourself
hoarse in your own house, but here I must ask you to restrain yourself!
LOMOV. If it wasn’t, madam, for this awful, excruciating palpitation, if my
whole inside wasn’t upset, I’d talk to you in a different way! [Yells] Oxen
Meadows are mine!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Ours!
LOMOV. Mine!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Ours!
Page 42
LOMOV. Mine!
[Enter CHUBUKOV.]
CHUBUKOV. What’s the matter? What are you shouting at?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Papa, please tell to this gentleman who owns
Oxen Meadows, we or he?
CHUBUKOV. [To LOMOV] Darling, the Meadows are ours!
LOMOV. But, please, Stepan Stepanitch, how can they be yours? Do be a
reasonable man! My aunt’s grandmother gave the Meadows for the
temporary and free use of your grandfather’s peasants. The peasants used
the land for forty years and got as accustomed to it as if it was their own,
when it happened that...
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’ll prove to you that they’re mine!
CHUBUKOV. You won’t prove it, my darling.
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.
[Enter CHUBUKOV.]
CHUBUKOV. What’s the matter? What are you shouting at?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Papa, please tell to this gentleman who owns
Oxen Meadows, we or he?
CHUBUKOV. [To LOMOV] Darling, the Meadows are ours!
LOMOV. But, please, Stepan Stepanitch, how can they be yours? Do be a
reasonable man! My aunt’s grandmother gave the Meadows for the
temporary and free use of your grandfather’s peasants. The peasants used
the land for forty years and got as accustomed to it as if it was their own,
when it happened that...
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’ll prove to you that they’re mine!
CHUBUKOV. You won’t prove it, my darling.
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.
Page 43
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!
CHUBUKOV. What’s that? What did you say?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Papa, send the mowers out to the Meadows at
once!
CHUBUKOV. What did you say, sir?
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!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. All, all, all!
CHUBUKOV. Your grandfather was a drunkard, and your younger aunt,
Nastasya Mihailovna, ran away with an architect, and so on.
LOMOV. And your mother was hump-backed. [Clutches at his heart]
Something pulling in my side.... My head.... Help! Water!
CHUBUKOV. Your father was a guzzling gambler!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. And there haven’t been many backbiters to
equal your aunt!
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!
CHUBUKOV. What’s that? What did you say?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Papa, send the mowers out to the Meadows at
once!
CHUBUKOV. What did you say, sir?
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!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. All, all, all!
CHUBUKOV. Your grandfather was a drunkard, and your younger aunt,
Nastasya Mihailovna, ran away with an architect, and so on.
LOMOV. And your mother was hump-backed. [Clutches at his heart]
Something pulling in my side.... My head.... Help! Water!
CHUBUKOV. Your father was a guzzling gambler!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. And there haven’t been many backbiters to
equal your aunt!
Page 44
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?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s low! It’s dishonest! It’s mean!
CHUBUKOV. And you’re just a malicious, double-faced intriguer! Yes!
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.]
CHUBUKOV. [Following him] And don’t set foot in my house again!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Take it to court! We’ll see!
[LOMOV staggers out.]
CHUBUKOV. Devil take him! [Walks about in excitement.]
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!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What proposal?
CHUBUKOV. Why, he came here so as to propose to you.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. To propose? To me? Why didn’t you tell me so
before?
CHUBUKOV. So he dresses up in evening clothes. The stuffed sausage!
The wizen-faced frump!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. To propose to me? Ah! [Falls into an easy-
chair and wails] Bring him back! Back! Ah! Bring him here.
heart!... And it’s an open secret that before the last elections you bri... I can
see stars.... Where’s my hat?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s low! It’s dishonest! It’s mean!
CHUBUKOV. And you’re just a malicious, double-faced intriguer! Yes!
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.]
CHUBUKOV. [Following him] And don’t set foot in my house again!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Take it to court! We’ll see!
[LOMOV staggers out.]
CHUBUKOV. Devil take him! [Walks about in excitement.]
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!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What proposal?
CHUBUKOV. Why, he came here so as to propose to you.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. To propose? To me? Why didn’t you tell me so
before?
CHUBUKOV. So he dresses up in evening clothes. The stuffed sausage!
The wizen-faced frump!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. To propose to me? Ah! [Falls into an easy-
chair and wails] Bring him back! Back! Ah! Bring him here.
Page 45
CHUBUKOV. Bring whom here?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Quick, quick! I’m ill! Fetch him! [Hysterics.]
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. I’m dying! Fetch him!
CHUBUKOV. Tfoo! At once. Don’t yell!
[Runs out. A pause. NATALYA STEPANOVNA wails.]
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What have they done to me! Fetch him back!
Fetch him! [A pause.]
[CHUBUKOV runs in.]
CHUBUKOV. He’s coming, and so on, devil take him! Ouf! Talk to him
yourself; I don’t want to....
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Wails] Fetch him!
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!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. No, it was you!
CHUBUKOV. I tell you it’s not my fault. [LOMOV appears at the door]
Now you talk to him yourself [Exit.]
[LOMOV enters, exhausted.]
LOMOV. My heart’s palpitating awfully.... My foot’s gone to sleep....
There’s something keeps pulling in my side.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Forgive us, Ivan Vassilevitch, we were all a
little heated.... I remember now: Oxen Meadows really are yours.
LOMOV. My heart’s beating awfully.... My Meadows.... My eyebrows are
both twitching....
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Quick, quick! I’m ill! Fetch him! [Hysterics.]
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. I’m dying! Fetch him!
CHUBUKOV. Tfoo! At once. Don’t yell!
[Runs out. A pause. NATALYA STEPANOVNA wails.]
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What have they done to me! Fetch him back!
Fetch him! [A pause.]
[CHUBUKOV runs in.]
CHUBUKOV. He’s coming, and so on, devil take him! Ouf! Talk to him
yourself; I don’t want to....
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Wails] Fetch him!
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!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. No, it was you!
CHUBUKOV. I tell you it’s not my fault. [LOMOV appears at the door]
Now you talk to him yourself [Exit.]
[LOMOV enters, exhausted.]
LOMOV. My heart’s palpitating awfully.... My foot’s gone to sleep....
There’s something keeps pulling in my side.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Forgive us, Ivan Vassilevitch, we were all a
little heated.... I remember now: Oxen Meadows really are yours.
LOMOV. My heart’s beating awfully.... My Meadows.... My eyebrows are
both twitching....
Page 46
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. The Meadows are yours, yes, yours.... Do sit
down.... [They sit] We were wrong....
LOMOV. I did it on principle.... My land is worth little to me, but the
principle...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Yes, the principle, just so.... Now let’s talk of
something else.
LOMOV. The more so as I have evidence. My aunt’s grandmother gave the
land to your father’s grandfather’s peasants...
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’m thinking of having a go at the blackcock, honoured Natalya
Stepanovna, after the harvest. Oh, have you heard? Just think, what a
misfortune I’ve had! My dog Guess, whom you know, has gone lame.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What a pity! Why?
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.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It was too much, Ivan Vassilevitch.
LOMOV. I think it was very cheap. He’s a first-rate dog.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Papa gave 85 roubles for his Squeezer, and
Squeezer is heaps better than Guess!
LOMOV. Squeezer better than. Guess? What an idea! [Laughs] Squeezer
better than Guess!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Of course he’s better! Of course, Squeezer is
young, he may develop a bit, but on points and pedigree he’s better than
anything that even Volchanetsky has got.
LOMOV. Excuse me, Natalya Stepanovna, but you forget that he is
overshot, and an overshot always means the dog is a bad hunter!
down.... [They sit] We were wrong....
LOMOV. I did it on principle.... My land is worth little to me, but the
principle...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Yes, the principle, just so.... Now let’s talk of
something else.
LOMOV. The more so as I have evidence. My aunt’s grandmother gave the
land to your father’s grandfather’s peasants...
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’m thinking of having a go at the blackcock, honoured Natalya
Stepanovna, after the harvest. Oh, have you heard? Just think, what a
misfortune I’ve had! My dog Guess, whom you know, has gone lame.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What a pity! Why?
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.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It was too much, Ivan Vassilevitch.
LOMOV. I think it was very cheap. He’s a first-rate dog.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Papa gave 85 roubles for his Squeezer, and
Squeezer is heaps better than Guess!
LOMOV. Squeezer better than. Guess? What an idea! [Laughs] Squeezer
better than Guess!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Of course he’s better! Of course, Squeezer is
young, he may develop a bit, but on points and pedigree he’s better than
anything that even Volchanetsky has got.
LOMOV. Excuse me, Natalya Stepanovna, but you forget that he is
overshot, and an overshot always means the dog is a bad hunter!
Page 47
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Overshot, is he? The first time I hear it!
LOMOV. I assure you that his lower jaw is shorter than the upper.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Have you measured?
LOMOV. Yes. He’s all right at following, of course, but if you want him to
get hold of anything...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. In the first place, our Squeezer is a
thoroughbred animal, the son of Harness and Chisels, while there’s no
getting at the pedigree of your dog at all.... He’s old and as ugly as a worn-
out cab-horse.
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.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. There’s some demon of contradiction in you
to-day, Ivan Vassilevitch. First you pretend that the Meadows are yours;
now, that Guess is better than Squeezer. I don’t like people who don’t say
what they mean, because you know perfectly well that Squeezer is a
hundred times better than your silly Guess. Why do you want to say it isn’t?
LOMOV. I see, Natalya Stepanovna, that you consider me either blind or a
fool. You must realize that Squeezer is overshot!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s not true.
LOMOV. He is!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s not true!
LOMOV. Why shout, madam?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Why talk rot? It’s awful! It’s time your Guess
was shot, and you compare him with Squeezer!
LOMOV. Excuse me; I cannot continue this discussion: my heart is
palpitating.
LOMOV. I assure you that his lower jaw is shorter than the upper.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Have you measured?
LOMOV. Yes. He’s all right at following, of course, but if you want him to
get hold of anything...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. In the first place, our Squeezer is a
thoroughbred animal, the son of Harness and Chisels, while there’s no
getting at the pedigree of your dog at all.... He’s old and as ugly as a worn-
out cab-horse.
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.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. There’s some demon of contradiction in you
to-day, Ivan Vassilevitch. First you pretend that the Meadows are yours;
now, that Guess is better than Squeezer. I don’t like people who don’t say
what they mean, because you know perfectly well that Squeezer is a
hundred times better than your silly Guess. Why do you want to say it isn’t?
LOMOV. I see, Natalya Stepanovna, that you consider me either blind or a
fool. You must realize that Squeezer is overshot!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s not true.
LOMOV. He is!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s not true!
LOMOV. Why shout, madam?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Why talk rot? It’s awful! It’s time your Guess
was shot, and you compare him with Squeezer!
LOMOV. Excuse me; I cannot continue this discussion: my heart is
palpitating.
Page 48
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I’ve noticed that those hunters argue most who
know least.
LOMOV. Madam, please be silent.... My heart is going to pieces.... [Shouts]
Shut up!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I shan’t shut up until you acknowledge that
Squeezer is a hundred times better than your Guess!
LOMOV. A hundred times worse! Be hanged to your Squeezer! His head...
eyes... shoulder...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. There’s no need to hang your silly Guess; he’s
half-dead already!
LOMOV. [Weeps] Shut up! My heart’s bursting!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I shan’t shut up.
[Enter CHUBUKOV.]
CHUBUKOV. What’s the matter now?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Papa, tell us truly, which is the better dog, our
Squeezer or his Guess.
LOMOV. Stepan Stepanovitch, I implore you to tell me just one thing: is
your Squeezer overshot or not? Yes or no?
CHUBUKOV. And suppose he is? What does it matter? He’s the best dog in
the district for all that, and so on.
LOMOV. But isn’t my Guess better? Really, now?
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.
know least.
LOMOV. Madam, please be silent.... My heart is going to pieces.... [Shouts]
Shut up!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I shan’t shut up until you acknowledge that
Squeezer is a hundred times better than your Guess!
LOMOV. A hundred times worse! Be hanged to your Squeezer! His head...
eyes... shoulder...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. There’s no need to hang your silly Guess; he’s
half-dead already!
LOMOV. [Weeps] Shut up! My heart’s bursting!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I shan’t shut up.
[Enter CHUBUKOV.]
CHUBUKOV. What’s the matter now?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Papa, tell us truly, which is the better dog, our
Squeezer or his Guess.
LOMOV. Stepan Stepanovitch, I implore you to tell me just one thing: is
your Squeezer overshot or not? Yes or no?
CHUBUKOV. And suppose he is? What does it matter? He’s the best dog in
the district for all that, and so on.
LOMOV. But isn’t my Guess better? Really, now?
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.
Page 49
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!
LOMOV. I remember too!
CHUBUKOV. [Teasing him] I remember, too.... What do you remember?
LOMOV. My heart... my foot’s gone to sleep.... I can’t...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Teasing] My heart.... What sort of a hunter
are you? You ought to go and lie on the kitchen oven and catch
blackbeetles, not go after foxes! My heart!
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!
CHUBUKOV. Boy! Pup!
LOMOV. Old rat! Jesuit!
CHUBUKOV. Shut up or I’ll shoot you like a partridge! You fool!
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!
LOMOV. I remember too!
CHUBUKOV. [Teasing him] I remember, too.... What do you remember?
LOMOV. My heart... my foot’s gone to sleep.... I can’t...
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Teasing] My heart.... What sort of a hunter
are you? You ought to go and lie on the kitchen oven and catch
blackbeetles, not go after foxes! My heart!
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!
CHUBUKOV. Boy! Pup!
LOMOV. Old rat! Jesuit!
CHUBUKOV. Shut up or I’ll shoot you like a partridge! You fool!
Page 50
LOMOV. Everybody knows that—oh my heart!—your late wife used to
beat you.... My feet... temples... sparks.... I fall, I fall!
CHUBUKOV. And you’re under the slipper of your housekeeper!
LOMOV. There, there, there... my heart’s burst! My shoulder’s come off....
Where is my shoulder? I die. [Falls into an armchair] A doctor! [Faints.]
CHUBUKOV. Boy! Milksop! Fool! I’m sick! [Drinks water] Sick!
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. I’m sick!... I can’t breathe!... Air!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. He’s dead. [Pulls LOMOV’S sleeve] Ivan
Vassilevitch! Ivan Vassilevitch! What have you done to me? He’s dead.
[Falls into an armchair] A doctor, a doctor! [Hysterics.]
CHUBUKOV. Oh!... What is it? What’s the matter?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Wails] He’s dead... dead!
CHUBUKOV. Who’s dead? [Looks at LOMOV] So he is! My word! Water!
A doctor! [Lifts a tumbler to LOMOV’S mouth] Drink this!... No, he
doesn’t drink.... It means he’s dead, and all that.... I’m the most unhappy of
men! Why don’t I put a bullet into my brain? Why haven’t I cut my throat
yet? What am I waiting for? Give me a knife! Give me a pistol! [LOMOV
moves] He seems to be coming round.... Drink some water! That’s right....
LOMOV. I see stars... mist.... Where am I?
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!
LOMOV. [Getting up] Eh? What? To whom?
CHUBUKOV. She’s willing! Well? Kiss and be damned to you!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Wails] He’s alive... Yes, yes, I’m willing....
beat you.... My feet... temples... sparks.... I fall, I fall!
CHUBUKOV. And you’re under the slipper of your housekeeper!
LOMOV. There, there, there... my heart’s burst! My shoulder’s come off....
Where is my shoulder? I die. [Falls into an armchair] A doctor! [Faints.]
CHUBUKOV. Boy! Milksop! Fool! I’m sick! [Drinks water] Sick!
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. I’m sick!... I can’t breathe!... Air!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. He’s dead. [Pulls LOMOV’S sleeve] Ivan
Vassilevitch! Ivan Vassilevitch! What have you done to me? He’s dead.
[Falls into an armchair] A doctor, a doctor! [Hysterics.]
CHUBUKOV. Oh!... What is it? What’s the matter?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Wails] He’s dead... dead!
CHUBUKOV. Who’s dead? [Looks at LOMOV] So he is! My word! Water!
A doctor! [Lifts a tumbler to LOMOV’S mouth] Drink this!... No, he
doesn’t drink.... It means he’s dead, and all that.... I’m the most unhappy of
men! Why don’t I put a bullet into my brain? Why haven’t I cut my throat
yet? What am I waiting for? Give me a knife! Give me a pistol! [LOMOV
moves] He seems to be coming round.... Drink some water! That’s right....
LOMOV. I see stars... mist.... Where am I?
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!
LOMOV. [Getting up] Eh? What? To whom?
CHUBUKOV. She’s willing! Well? Kiss and be damned to you!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Wails] He’s alive... Yes, yes, I’m willing....
Page 51
CHUBUKOV. Kiss each other!
LOMOV. Eh? Kiss whom? [They kiss] Very nice, too. Excuse me, what’s it
all about? Oh, now I understand... my heart... stars... I’m happy. Natalya
Stepanovna.... [Kisses her hand] My foot’s gone to sleep....
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I... I’m happy too....
CHUBUKOV. What a weight off my shoulders.... Ouf!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. But... still you will admit now that Guess is
worse than Squeezer.
LOMOV. Better!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Worse!
CHUBUKOV. Well, that’s a way to start your family bliss! Have some
champagne!
LOMOV. He’s better!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Worse! worse! worse!
CHUBUKOV. [Trying to shout her down] Champagne! Champagne!
Curtain.
LOMOV. Eh? Kiss whom? [They kiss] Very nice, too. Excuse me, what’s it
all about? Oh, now I understand... my heart... stars... I’m happy. Natalya
Stepanovna.... [Kisses her hand] My foot’s gone to sleep....
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I... I’m happy too....
CHUBUKOV. What a weight off my shoulders.... Ouf!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. But... still you will admit now that Guess is
worse than Squeezer.
LOMOV. Better!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Worse!
CHUBUKOV. Well, that’s a way to start your family bliss! Have some
champagne!
LOMOV. He’s better!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Worse! worse! worse!
CHUBUKOV. [Trying to shout her down] Champagne! Champagne!
Curtain.
Page 52
THE WEDDING
CHARACTERS
EVDOKIM ZAHAROVITCH ZHIGALOV, a retired Civil Servant.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA, his wife
DASHENKA, their daughter
EPAMINOND MAXIMOVITCH APLOMBOV, Dashenka’s bridegroom
FYODOR YAKOVLEVITCH REVUNOV-KARAULOV, a retired captain
ANDREY ANDREYEVITCH NUNIN, an insurance agent
ANNA MARTINOVNA ZMEYUKINA, a midwife, aged 30, in a brilliantly red dress
IVAN MIHAILOVITCH YATS, a telegraphist
HARLAMPI SPIRIDONOVITCH DIMBA, a Greek confectioner
DMITRI STEPANOVITCH MOZGOVOY, a sailor of the Imperial Navy (Volunteer
Fleet)
GROOMSMEN, GENTLEMEN, WAITERS, ETC.
The scene is laid in one of the rooms of Andronov’s Restaurant
[A brilliantly illuminated room. A large table, laid for supper. Waiters in
dress-jackets are fussing round the table. An orchestra behind the scene is
playing the music of the last figure of a quadrille.]
[ANNA MARTINOVNA ZMEYUKINA, YATS, and a GROOMSMAN
cross the stage.]
ZMEYUKINA. No, no, no!
YATS. [Following her] Have pity on us! Have pity!
ZMEYUKINA. No, no, no!
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.]
[Enter NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA and APLOMBOV.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. You had much better be dancing than
upsetting me with your speeches.
CHARACTERS
EVDOKIM ZAHAROVITCH ZHIGALOV, a retired Civil Servant.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA, his wife
DASHENKA, their daughter
EPAMINOND MAXIMOVITCH APLOMBOV, Dashenka’s bridegroom
FYODOR YAKOVLEVITCH REVUNOV-KARAULOV, a retired captain
ANDREY ANDREYEVITCH NUNIN, an insurance agent
ANNA MARTINOVNA ZMEYUKINA, a midwife, aged 30, in a brilliantly red dress
IVAN MIHAILOVITCH YATS, a telegraphist
HARLAMPI SPIRIDONOVITCH DIMBA, a Greek confectioner
DMITRI STEPANOVITCH MOZGOVOY, a sailor of the Imperial Navy (Volunteer
Fleet)
GROOMSMEN, GENTLEMEN, WAITERS, ETC.
The scene is laid in one of the rooms of Andronov’s Restaurant
[A brilliantly illuminated room. A large table, laid for supper. Waiters in
dress-jackets are fussing round the table. An orchestra behind the scene is
playing the music of the last figure of a quadrille.]
[ANNA MARTINOVNA ZMEYUKINA, YATS, and a GROOMSMAN
cross the stage.]
ZMEYUKINA. No, no, no!
YATS. [Following her] Have pity on us! Have pity!
ZMEYUKINA. No, no, no!
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.]
[Enter NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA and APLOMBOV.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. You had much better be dancing than
upsetting me with your speeches.
Page 53
APLOMBOV. I’m not a Spinosa or anybody of that sort, to go making
figures-of-eight with my legs. I am a serious man, and I have a character,
and I see no amusement in empty pleasures. But it isn’t just a matter of
dances. You must excuse me, maman, but there is a good deal in your
behaviour which I am unable to understand. For instance, in addition to
objects of domestic importance, you promised also to give me, with your
daughter, two lottery tickets. Where are they?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. My head’s aching a little... I expect it’s on
account of the weather.... If only it thawed!
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!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Looks round the table and counts up the
covers] One, two, three, four, five...
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?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. That isn’t my fault, my dear.
APLOMBOV. Whose fault, then?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. It’s Andrey Andreyevitch’s fault....
Yesterday he came to see us and promised to bring a perfectly real general.
[Sighs] I suppose he couldn’t find one anywhere, or he’d have brought
him.... You think we don’t mind? We’d begrudge our child nothing. A
general, of course...
figures-of-eight with my legs. I am a serious man, and I have a character,
and I see no amusement in empty pleasures. But it isn’t just a matter of
dances. You must excuse me, maman, but there is a good deal in your
behaviour which I am unable to understand. For instance, in addition to
objects of domestic importance, you promised also to give me, with your
daughter, two lottery tickets. Where are they?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. My head’s aching a little... I expect it’s on
account of the weather.... If only it thawed!
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!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Looks round the table and counts up the
covers] One, two, three, four, five...
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?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. That isn’t my fault, my dear.
APLOMBOV. Whose fault, then?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. It’s Andrey Andreyevitch’s fault....
Yesterday he came to see us and promised to bring a perfectly real general.
[Sighs] I suppose he couldn’t find one anywhere, or he’d have brought
him.... You think we don’t mind? We’d begrudge our child nothing. A
general, of course...
Page 54
APLOMBOV. But there’s more.... Everybody, including yourself, maman,
is aware of the fact that Yats, that telegraphist, was after Dashenka before I
proposed to her. Why did you invite him? Surely you knew it would be
unpleasant for me?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Oh, how can you? Epaminond
Maximovitch was married himself only the other day, and you’ve already
tired me and Dashenka out with your talk. What will you be like in a year’s
time? You are horrid, really horrid.
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.]
GROOMSMAN. [Shouting] Promenade! Messieurs, promenade! [Behind]
Promenade!
[The dancers have all left the scene.]
YATS. [To ZMEYUKINA] Have pity! Have pity, adorable Anna
Martinovna.
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. I’m tired of you.... [Sits and fans herself.]
YATS. No, you’re simply heartless! To be so cruel—if I may express myself
—and to have such a beautiful, beautiful voice! With such a voice, if you
will forgive my using the word, you shouldn’t be a midwife, but sing at
concerts, at public gatherings! For example, how divinely you do that
fioritura... that... [Sings] “I loved you; love was vain then....” Exquisite!
ZMEYUKINA. [Sings] “I loved you, and may love again.” Is that it?
is aware of the fact that Yats, that telegraphist, was after Dashenka before I
proposed to her. Why did you invite him? Surely you knew it would be
unpleasant for me?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Oh, how can you? Epaminond
Maximovitch was married himself only the other day, and you’ve already
tired me and Dashenka out with your talk. What will you be like in a year’s
time? You are horrid, really horrid.
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.]
GROOMSMAN. [Shouting] Promenade! Messieurs, promenade! [Behind]
Promenade!
[The dancers have all left the scene.]
YATS. [To ZMEYUKINA] Have pity! Have pity, adorable Anna
Martinovna.
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. I’m tired of you.... [Sits and fans herself.]
YATS. No, you’re simply heartless! To be so cruel—if I may express myself
—and to have such a beautiful, beautiful voice! With such a voice, if you
will forgive my using the word, you shouldn’t be a midwife, but sing at
concerts, at public gatherings! For example, how divinely you do that
fioritura... that... [Sings] “I loved you; love was vain then....” Exquisite!
ZMEYUKINA. [Sings] “I loved you, and may love again.” Is that it?
Page 55
YATS. That’s it! Beautiful!
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?
APLOMBOV. Marriage is a serious step! Everything must be considered
from all sides, thoroughly.
ZMEYUKINA. What beastly sceptics you all are! I feel quite suffocated
with you all around.... Give me atmosphere! Do you hear? Give me
atmosphere! [Sings a few notes.]
YATS. Beautiful! Beautiful!
ZMEYUKINA. Fan me, fan me, or I feel I shall have a heart attack in a
minute. Tell me, please, why do I feel so suffocated?
YATS. It’s because you’re sweating....
ZMEYUKINA. Foo, how vulgar you are! Don’t dare to use such words!
YATS. Beg pardon! Of course, you’re used, if I may say so, to aristocratic
society and....
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.
ZHIGALOV. And lions?
DIMBA. And lions too. In Russia zere’s nussing, and in Greece zere’s
everysing—my fazer and uncle and brozeres—and here zere’s nussing.
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?
APLOMBOV. Marriage is a serious step! Everything must be considered
from all sides, thoroughly.
ZMEYUKINA. What beastly sceptics you all are! I feel quite suffocated
with you all around.... Give me atmosphere! Do you hear? Give me
atmosphere! [Sings a few notes.]
YATS. Beautiful! Beautiful!
ZMEYUKINA. Fan me, fan me, or I feel I shall have a heart attack in a
minute. Tell me, please, why do I feel so suffocated?
YATS. It’s because you’re sweating....
ZMEYUKINA. Foo, how vulgar you are! Don’t dare to use such words!
YATS. Beg pardon! Of course, you’re used, if I may say so, to aristocratic
society and....
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.
ZHIGALOV. And lions?
DIMBA. And lions too. In Russia zere’s nussing, and in Greece zere’s
everysing—my fazer and uncle and brozeres—and here zere’s nussing.
Page 56
ZHIGALOV. H’m.... And are there whales in Greece?
DIMBA. Yes, everysing.
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....
ZHIGALOV. And are there lobsters in Greece?
DIMBA. Yes... zere is everysing.
ZHIGALOV. Hm.... And Civil Servants.
ZMEYUKINA. I can imagine what the atmosphere is like in Greece!
ZHIGALOV. There must be a lot of swindling. The Greeks are just like the
Armenians or gipsies. They sell you a sponge or a goldfish and all the time
they are looking out for a chance of getting something extra out of you.
Let’s have another, what?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. What do you want to go on having another
for? It’s time everybody sat down to supper. It’s past eleven.
ZHIGALOV. If it’s time, then it’s time. Ladies and gentlemen, please!
[Shouts] Supper! Young people!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Dear visitors, please be seated!
ZMEYUKINA. [Sitting down at the table] Give me poetry.
“And he, the rebel, seeks the storm,
As if the storm can give him peace.”
Give me the storm!
YATS. [Aside] Wonderful woman! I’m in love! Up to my ears!
[Enter DASHENKA, MOZGOVOY, GROOMSMEN, various ladies and
gentlemen, etc. They all noisily seat themselves at the table. There is a
minute’s pause, while the band plays a march.]
DIMBA. Yes, everysing.
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....
ZHIGALOV. And are there lobsters in Greece?
DIMBA. Yes... zere is everysing.
ZHIGALOV. Hm.... And Civil Servants.
ZMEYUKINA. I can imagine what the atmosphere is like in Greece!
ZHIGALOV. There must be a lot of swindling. The Greeks are just like the
Armenians or gipsies. They sell you a sponge or a goldfish and all the time
they are looking out for a chance of getting something extra out of you.
Let’s have another, what?
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. What do you want to go on having another
for? It’s time everybody sat down to supper. It’s past eleven.
ZHIGALOV. If it’s time, then it’s time. Ladies and gentlemen, please!
[Shouts] Supper! Young people!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Dear visitors, please be seated!
ZMEYUKINA. [Sitting down at the table] Give me poetry.
“And he, the rebel, seeks the storm,
As if the storm can give him peace.”
Give me the storm!
YATS. [Aside] Wonderful woman! I’m in love! Up to my ears!
[Enter DASHENKA, MOZGOVOY, GROOMSMEN, various ladies and
gentlemen, etc. They all noisily seat themselves at the table. There is a
minute’s pause, while the band plays a march.]
Page 57
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!
[The band plays a flourish. Cheers. Glasses are touched. APLOMBOV and
DASHENKA kiss each other.]
YATS. Beautiful! Beautiful! I must say, ladies and gentlemen, giving
honour where it is due, that this room and the accommodation generally are
splendid! Excellent, wonderful! Only you know, there’s one thing we
haven’t got—electric light, if I may say so! Into every country electric light
has already been introduced, only Russia lags behind.
ZHIGALOV. [Meditatively] Electricity... h’m.... In my opinion electric
lighting is just a swindle.... They put a live coal in and think you don’t see
them! No, if you want a light, then you don’t take a coal, but something
real, something special, that you can get hold of! You must have a fire, you
understand, which is natural, not just an invention!
YATS. If you’d ever seen an electric battery, and how it’s made up, you’d
think differently.
ZHIGALOV. Don’t want to see one. It’s a swindle, a fraud on the public....
They want to squeeze our last breath out of us.... We know then, these...
And, young man, instead of defending a swindle, you would be much better
occupied if you had another yourself and poured out some for other people
—yes!
APLOMBOV. I entirely agree with you, papa. Why start a learned
discussion? I myself have no objection to talking about every possible
scientific discovery, but this isn’t the time for all that! [To DASHENKA]
What do you think, ma chère?
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!
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!
[The band plays a flourish. Cheers. Glasses are touched. APLOMBOV and
DASHENKA kiss each other.]
YATS. Beautiful! Beautiful! I must say, ladies and gentlemen, giving
honour where it is due, that this room and the accommodation generally are
splendid! Excellent, wonderful! Only you know, there’s one thing we
haven’t got—electric light, if I may say so! Into every country electric light
has already been introduced, only Russia lags behind.
ZHIGALOV. [Meditatively] Electricity... h’m.... In my opinion electric
lighting is just a swindle.... They put a live coal in and think you don’t see
them! No, if you want a light, then you don’t take a coal, but something
real, something special, that you can get hold of! You must have a fire, you
understand, which is natural, not just an invention!
YATS. If you’d ever seen an electric battery, and how it’s made up, you’d
think differently.
ZHIGALOV. Don’t want to see one. It’s a swindle, a fraud on the public....
They want to squeeze our last breath out of us.... We know then, these...
And, young man, instead of defending a swindle, you would be much better
occupied if you had another yourself and poured out some for other people
—yes!
APLOMBOV. I entirely agree with you, papa. Why start a learned
discussion? I myself have no objection to talking about every possible
scientific discovery, but this isn’t the time for all that! [To DASHENKA]
What do you think, ma chère?
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!
Page 58
YATS. I, Nastasya Timofeyevna, have always held your family in respect,
and if I did start talking about electric lighting it doesn’t mean that I’m
proud. I’ll drink, to show you. I have always sincerely wished Daria
Evdokimovna a good husband. In these days, Nastasya Timofeyevna, it is
difficult to find a good husband. Nowadays everybody is on the look-out for
a marriage where there is profit, money....
APLOMBOV. That’s a hint!
YATS. [His courage failing] I wasn’t hinting at anything.... Present
company is always excepted.... I was only in general.... Please! Everybody
knows that you’re marrying for love... the dowry is quite trifling.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. No, it isn’t trifling! You be careful what
you say. Besides a thousand roubles of good money, we’re giving three
dresses, the bed, and all the furniture. You won’t find another dowry like
that in a hurry!
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.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Don’t you go making hints. We respect you
on account of your parents, and we’ve invited you to the wedding, and here
you go talking. If you knew that Epaminond Maximovitch was marrying for
profit, why didn’t you say so before? [Tearfully] I brought her up, I fed her,
I nursed her.... I cared for her more than if she was an emerald jewel, my
little girl....
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!
YATS. What do you mean?
APLOMBOV. I want you to be as straightforward as I am! In short, please
get out! [Band plays a flourish]
THE GENTLEMEN. Leave him alone! Sit down! Is it worth it! Let him be!
Stop it now!
and if I did start talking about electric lighting it doesn’t mean that I’m
proud. I’ll drink, to show you. I have always sincerely wished Daria
Evdokimovna a good husband. In these days, Nastasya Timofeyevna, it is
difficult to find a good husband. Nowadays everybody is on the look-out for
a marriage where there is profit, money....
APLOMBOV. That’s a hint!
YATS. [His courage failing] I wasn’t hinting at anything.... Present
company is always excepted.... I was only in general.... Please! Everybody
knows that you’re marrying for love... the dowry is quite trifling.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. No, it isn’t trifling! You be careful what
you say. Besides a thousand roubles of good money, we’re giving three
dresses, the bed, and all the furniture. You won’t find another dowry like
that in a hurry!
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.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Don’t you go making hints. We respect you
on account of your parents, and we’ve invited you to the wedding, and here
you go talking. If you knew that Epaminond Maximovitch was marrying for
profit, why didn’t you say so before? [Tearfully] I brought her up, I fed her,
I nursed her.... I cared for her more than if she was an emerald jewel, my
little girl....
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!
YATS. What do you mean?
APLOMBOV. I want you to be as straightforward as I am! In short, please
get out! [Band plays a flourish]
THE GENTLEMEN. Leave him alone! Sit down! Is it worth it! Let him be!
Stop it now!
Page 59
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 piqué waistcoat, if I may say so. Then I’ll just have another
drink and... go, only give me the money first.
VARIOUS GENTLEMEN. Sit down! That’s enough! Is it worth it, just for
such trifles?
A GROOMSMAN. [Shouts] The health of the bride’s parents, Evdokim
Zaharitch and Nastasya Timofeyevna! [Band plays a flourish. Cheers.]
ZHIGALOV. [Bows in all directions, in great emotion] I thank you! Dear
guests! I am very grateful to you for not having forgotten and for having
conferred this honour upon us without being standoffish And you must not
think that I’m a rascal, or that I’m trying to swindle anybody. I’m speaking
from my heart—from the purity of my soul! I wouldn’t deny anything to
good people! We thank you very humbly! [Kisses.]
DASHENKA. [To her mother] Mama, why are you crying? I’m so happy!
APLOMBOV. Maman is disturbed at your coming separation. But I should
advise her rather to remember the last talk we had.
YATS. Don’t cry, Nastasya Timofeyevna! Just think what are human tears,
anyway? Just petty psychiatry, and nothing more!
ZMEYUKINA. And are there any red-haired men in Greece?
DIMBA. Yes, everysing is zere.
ZHIGALOV. But you don’t have our kinds of mushroom.
DIMBA. Yes, we’ve got zem and everysing.
MOZGOVOY. Harlampi Spiridonovitch, it’s your turn to speak! Ladies and
gentlemen, a speech!
ALL. [To DIMBA] Speech! speech! Your turn!
DIMBA. Why? I don’t understand.... What is it!
ZMEYUKINA. No, no! You can’t refuse! It’s you turn! Get up!
give me the five roubles which you borrowed from me last year on the
strength of a piqué waistcoat, if I may say so. Then I’ll just have another
drink and... go, only give me the money first.
VARIOUS GENTLEMEN. Sit down! That’s enough! Is it worth it, just for
such trifles?
A GROOMSMAN. [Shouts] The health of the bride’s parents, Evdokim
Zaharitch and Nastasya Timofeyevna! [Band plays a flourish. Cheers.]
ZHIGALOV. [Bows in all directions, in great emotion] I thank you! Dear
guests! I am very grateful to you for not having forgotten and for having
conferred this honour upon us without being standoffish And you must not
think that I’m a rascal, or that I’m trying to swindle anybody. I’m speaking
from my heart—from the purity of my soul! I wouldn’t deny anything to
good people! We thank you very humbly! [Kisses.]
DASHENKA. [To her mother] Mama, why are you crying? I’m so happy!
APLOMBOV. Maman is disturbed at your coming separation. But I should
advise her rather to remember the last talk we had.
YATS. Don’t cry, Nastasya Timofeyevna! Just think what are human tears,
anyway? Just petty psychiatry, and nothing more!
ZMEYUKINA. And are there any red-haired men in Greece?
DIMBA. Yes, everysing is zere.
ZHIGALOV. But you don’t have our kinds of mushroom.
DIMBA. Yes, we’ve got zem and everysing.
MOZGOVOY. Harlampi Spiridonovitch, it’s your turn to speak! Ladies and
gentlemen, a speech!
ALL. [To DIMBA] Speech! speech! Your turn!
DIMBA. Why? I don’t understand.... What is it!
ZMEYUKINA. No, no! You can’t refuse! It’s you turn! Get up!
Page 60
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.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. When is he coming?
NUNIN. This minute. You’ll be grateful to me all your life. [Note: A few
lines have been omitted: they refer to the “General’s” rank and its civil
equivalent in words for which the English language has no corresponding
terms. The “General” is an ex-naval officer, a second-class captain.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. You’re not deceiving me, Andrey darling?
NUNIN. Well, now, am I a swindler? You needn’t worry!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Sighs] One doesn’t like to spend money
for nothing, Andrey darling!
NUNIN. Don’t you worry! He’s not a general, he’s a dream! [Raises his
voice] I said to him: “You’ve quite forgotten us, your Excellency! It isn’t
kind of your Excellency to forget your old friends! Nastasya Timofeyevna,”
I said to him, “she’s very annoyed with you about it!” [Goes and sits at the
table] And he says to me: “But, my friend, how can I go when I don’t know
the bridegroom?” “Oh, nonsense, your excellency, why stand on ceremony?
The bridegroom,” I said to him, “he’s a fine fellow, very free and easy. He’s
a valuer,” I said, “at the Law courts, and don’t you think, your excellency,
that he’s some rascal, some knave of hearts. Nowadays,” I said to him,
“even decent women are employed at the Law courts.” He slapped me on
the shoulder, we smoked a Havana cigar each, and now he’s coming.... Wait
a little, ladies and gentlemen, don’t eat....
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.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. When is he coming?
NUNIN. This minute. You’ll be grateful to me all your life. [Note: A few
lines have been omitted: they refer to the “General’s” rank and its civil
equivalent in words for which the English language has no corresponding
terms. The “General” is an ex-naval officer, a second-class captain.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. You’re not deceiving me, Andrey darling?
NUNIN. Well, now, am I a swindler? You needn’t worry!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Sighs] One doesn’t like to spend money
for nothing, Andrey darling!
NUNIN. Don’t you worry! He’s not a general, he’s a dream! [Raises his
voice] I said to him: “You’ve quite forgotten us, your Excellency! It isn’t
kind of your Excellency to forget your old friends! Nastasya Timofeyevna,”
I said to him, “she’s very annoyed with you about it!” [Goes and sits at the
table] And he says to me: “But, my friend, how can I go when I don’t know
the bridegroom?” “Oh, nonsense, your excellency, why stand on ceremony?
The bridegroom,” I said to him, “he’s a fine fellow, very free and easy. He’s
a valuer,” I said, “at the Law courts, and don’t you think, your excellency,
that he’s some rascal, some knave of hearts. Nowadays,” I said to him,
“even decent women are employed at the Law courts.” He slapped me on
the shoulder, we smoked a Havana cigar each, and now he’s coming.... Wait
a little, ladies and gentlemen, don’t eat....
Page 61
APLOMBOV. When’s he coming?
NUNIN. This minute. When I left him he was already putting on his
goloshes. Wait a little, ladies and gentlemen, don’t eat yet.
APLOMBOV. The band should be told to play a march.
NUNIN. [Shouts] Musicians! A march! [The band plays a march for a
minute.]
A WAITER. Mr. Revunov-Karaulov!
[ZHIGALOV, NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA, and NUNIN run to meet
him. Enter REVUNOV-KARAULOV.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Bowing] Please come in, your excellency!
So glad you’ve come!
REVUNOV. Awfully!
ZHIGALOV. We, your excellency, aren’t celebrities, we aren’t important,
but quite ordinary, but don’t think on that account that there’s any fraud. We
put good people into the best place, we begrudge nothing. Please!
REVUNOV. Awfully glad!
NUNIN. Let me introduce to you, your excellency, the bridegroom,
Epaminond Maximovitch Aplombov, with his newly born... I mean his
newly married wife! Ivan Mihailovitch Yats, employed on the telegraph! A
foreigner of Greek nationality, a confectioner by trade, Harlampi
Spiridonovitch Dimba! Osip Lukitch Babelmandebsky! And so on, and so
on.... The rest are just trash. Sit down, your excellency!
REVUNOV. Awfully! Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I just want to say
two words to Andrey. [Takes NUNIN aside] I say, old man, I’m a little put
out.... Why do you call me your excellency? I’m not a general! I don’t rank
as the equivalent of a colonel, even.
NUNIN. [Whispers] I know, only, Fyodor Yakovlevitch, be a good man and
let us call you your excellency! The family here, you see, is patriarchal; it
respects the aged, it likes rank.
NUNIN. This minute. When I left him he was already putting on his
goloshes. Wait a little, ladies and gentlemen, don’t eat yet.
APLOMBOV. The band should be told to play a march.
NUNIN. [Shouts] Musicians! A march! [The band plays a march for a
minute.]
A WAITER. Mr. Revunov-Karaulov!
[ZHIGALOV, NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA, and NUNIN run to meet
him. Enter REVUNOV-KARAULOV.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Bowing] Please come in, your excellency!
So glad you’ve come!
REVUNOV. Awfully!
ZHIGALOV. We, your excellency, aren’t celebrities, we aren’t important,
but quite ordinary, but don’t think on that account that there’s any fraud. We
put good people into the best place, we begrudge nothing. Please!
REVUNOV. Awfully glad!
NUNIN. Let me introduce to you, your excellency, the bridegroom,
Epaminond Maximovitch Aplombov, with his newly born... I mean his
newly married wife! Ivan Mihailovitch Yats, employed on the telegraph! A
foreigner of Greek nationality, a confectioner by trade, Harlampi
Spiridonovitch Dimba! Osip Lukitch Babelmandebsky! And so on, and so
on.... The rest are just trash. Sit down, your excellency!
REVUNOV. Awfully! Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I just want to say
two words to Andrey. [Takes NUNIN aside] I say, old man, I’m a little put
out.... Why do you call me your excellency? I’m not a general! I don’t rank
as the equivalent of a colonel, even.
NUNIN. [Whispers] I know, only, Fyodor Yakovlevitch, be a good man and
let us call you your excellency! The family here, you see, is patriarchal; it
respects the aged, it likes rank.
Page 62
REVUNOV. Oh, if it’s like that, very well.... [Goes to the table] Awfully!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Sit down, your excellency! Be so good as
to have some of this, your excellency! Only forgive us for not being used to
etiquette; we’re plain people!
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....
ZHIGALOV. Then that’s sincere, is it, your excellency? I respect that! I’m a
plain man myself, without any deception, and I respect others who are like
that. Eat, your excellency!
APLOMBOV. Is it long since you retired, your excellency?
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?
MOZGOVOY. Yes, just so.
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!
NUNIN. The health of his excellency Fyodor Yakovlevitch Revunov-
Karaulov! [Band plays a flourish. Cheers.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Sit down, your excellency! Be so good as
to have some of this, your excellency! Only forgive us for not being used to
etiquette; we’re plain people!
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....
ZHIGALOV. Then that’s sincere, is it, your excellency? I respect that! I’m a
plain man myself, without any deception, and I respect others who are like
that. Eat, your excellency!
APLOMBOV. Is it long since you retired, your excellency?
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?
MOZGOVOY. Yes, just so.
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!
NUNIN. The health of his excellency Fyodor Yakovlevitch Revunov-
Karaulov! [Band plays a flourish. Cheers.]
Page 63
YATS. You, your excellency, have just expressed yourself on the subject of
the hard work involved in a naval career. But is telegraphy any easier?
Nowadays, your excellency, nobody is appointed to the telegraphs if he
cannot read and write French and German. But the transmission of
telegrams is the most difficult thing of all. Awfully difficult! Just listen.
[Taps with his fork on the table, like a telegraphic transmitter.]
REVUNOV. What does that mean?
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....
YATS. That means, “Madam, how happy I am to hold you in my
embraces!”
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.
A GROOMSMAN. [Rising] Ladies and gentlemen...
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...
NUNIN. [To REVUNOV] Fyodor Yakovlevitch, Mme. Zhigalov asks you
to talk about something else. It’s very dull for the guests, who can’t
understand....
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,
the hard work involved in a naval career. But is telegraphy any easier?
Nowadays, your excellency, nobody is appointed to the telegraphs if he
cannot read and write French and German. But the transmission of
telegrams is the most difficult thing of all. Awfully difficult! Just listen.
[Taps with his fork on the table, like a telegraphic transmitter.]
REVUNOV. What does that mean?
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....
YATS. That means, “Madam, how happy I am to hold you in my
embraces!”
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.
A GROOMSMAN. [Rising] Ladies and gentlemen...
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...
NUNIN. [To REVUNOV] Fyodor Yakovlevitch, Mme. Zhigalov asks you
to talk about something else. It’s very dull for the guests, who can’t
understand....
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,
Page 64
and you’ve got to bring her before the wind. What’s the order? Well, first
you whistle up above! He, he!
NUNIN. Fyodor Yakovlevitch, that’s enough. Eat something.
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.]
A GROOMSMAN. [Making haste to use the ensuing pause to advantage]
On this occasion, so to speak, on the day on which we have met together to
honour our dear...
REVUNOV. [Interrupting] Yes, you’ve got to remember all that! For
instance, “Hoist the topsail halyards. Lower the topsail gallants!”
THE GROOMSMAN. [Annoyed] Why does he keep on interrupting? We
shan’t get through a single speech like that!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. We are dull people, your excellency, and
don’t understand a word of all that, but if you were to tell us something
appropriate...
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.
ZMEYUKINA. How dull! How dull! [General murmur.]
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.
you whistle up above! He, he!
NUNIN. Fyodor Yakovlevitch, that’s enough. Eat something.
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.]
A GROOMSMAN. [Making haste to use the ensuing pause to advantage]
On this occasion, so to speak, on the day on which we have met together to
honour our dear...
REVUNOV. [Interrupting] Yes, you’ve got to remember all that! For
instance, “Hoist the topsail halyards. Lower the topsail gallants!”
THE GROOMSMAN. [Annoyed] Why does he keep on interrupting? We
shan’t get through a single speech like that!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. We are dull people, your excellency, and
don’t understand a word of all that, but if you were to tell us something
appropriate...
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.
ZMEYUKINA. How dull! How dull! [General murmur.]
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.
Page 65
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!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Exploding] General, your manners.... You
ought to be ashamed of yourself, at your age!
REVUNOV. Did you say sausage? No, I haven’t had any... thank you.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Loudly] I say you ought to be ashamed of
yourself at your age! General, your manners are awful!
NUNIN. [Confused] Ladies and gentlemen, is it worth it? Really...
REVUNOV. In the first place, I’m not a general, but a second-class naval
captain, which, according to the table of precedence, corresponds to a
lieutenant-colonel.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. If you’re not a general, then what did you
go and take our money for? We never paid you money to behave like that!
REVUNOV. [Upset] What money?
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!
NUNIN. There now... let it drop. Is it worth it?
REVUNOV. Paid... hired.... What is it?
APLOMBOV. Just let me ask you this. Did you receive 25 roubles from
Andrey Andreyevitch?
REVUNOV. What 25 roubles? [Suddenly realizing] That’s what it is! Now I
understand it all.... How mean! How mean!
APLOMBOV. Did you take the money?
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!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Exploding] General, your manners.... You
ought to be ashamed of yourself, at your age!
REVUNOV. Did you say sausage? No, I haven’t had any... thank you.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Loudly] I say you ought to be ashamed of
yourself at your age! General, your manners are awful!
NUNIN. [Confused] Ladies and gentlemen, is it worth it? Really...
REVUNOV. In the first place, I’m not a general, but a second-class naval
captain, which, according to the table of precedence, corresponds to a
lieutenant-colonel.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. If you’re not a general, then what did you
go and take our money for? We never paid you money to behave like that!
REVUNOV. [Upset] What money?
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!
NUNIN. There now... let it drop. Is it worth it?
REVUNOV. Paid... hired.... What is it?
APLOMBOV. Just let me ask you this. Did you receive 25 roubles from
Andrey Andreyevitch?
REVUNOV. What 25 roubles? [Suddenly realizing] That’s what it is! Now I
understand it all.... How mean! How mean!
APLOMBOV. Did you take the money?
Page 66
REVUNOV. I haven’t taken any money! Get away from me! [Leaves the
table] How mean! How low! To insult an old man, a sailor, an officer who
has served long and faithfully! If you were decent people I could call
somebody out, but what can I do now? [Absently] Where’s the door? Which
way do I go? Waiter, show me the way out! Waiter! [Going] How mean!
How low! [Exit.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Andrey, where are those 25 roubles?
NUNIN. Is it worth while bothering about such trifles? What does it matter!
Everybody’s happy here, and here you go.... [Shouts] The health of the
bride and bridegroom! A march! A march! [The band plays a march] The
health of the bride and bridegroom!
ZMEYUKINA. I’m suffocating! Give me atmosphere! I’m suffocating with
you all round me!
YATS. [In a transport of delight] My beauty! My beauty! [Uproar.]
A GROOMSMAN. [Trying to shout everybody else down] Ladies and
gentlemen! On this occasion, if I may say so...
Curtain.
table] How mean! How low! To insult an old man, a sailor, an officer who
has served long and faithfully! If you were decent people I could call
somebody out, but what can I do now? [Absently] Where’s the door? Which
way do I go? Waiter, show me the way out! Waiter! [Going] How mean!
How low! [Exit.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Andrey, where are those 25 roubles?
NUNIN. Is it worth while bothering about such trifles? What does it matter!
Everybody’s happy here, and here you go.... [Shouts] The health of the
bride and bridegroom! A march! A march! [The band plays a march] The
health of the bride and bridegroom!
ZMEYUKINA. I’m suffocating! Give me atmosphere! I’m suffocating with
you all round me!
YATS. [In a transport of delight] My beauty! My beauty! [Uproar.]
A GROOMSMAN. [Trying to shout everybody else down] Ladies and
gentlemen! On this occasion, if I may say so...
Curtain.
Page 67
THE BEAR
CHARACTERS
ELENA IVANOVNA POPOVA, a landowning little widow, with dimples on her
cheeks
GRIGORY STEPANOVITCH SMIRNOV, a middle-aged landowner
LUKA, Popova’s aged footman
[A drawing-room in POPOVA’S house.]
[POPOVA is in deep mourning and has her eyes fixed on a photograph.
LUKA is haranguing her.]
LUKA. It isn’t right, madam.... You’re just destroying yourself. The maid
and the cook have gone off fruit picking, every living being is rejoicing,
even the cat understands how to enjoy herself and walks about in the yard,
catching midges; only you sit in this room all day, as if this was a convent,
and don’t take any pleasure. Yes, really! I reckon it’s a whole year that you
haven’t left the house!
POPOVA. I shall never go out.... Why should I? My life is already at an
end. He is in his grave, and I have buried myself between four walls.... We
are both dead.
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
CHARACTERS
ELENA IVANOVNA POPOVA, a landowning little widow, with dimples on her
cheeks
GRIGORY STEPANOVITCH SMIRNOV, a middle-aged landowner
LUKA, Popova’s aged footman
[A drawing-room in POPOVA’S house.]
[POPOVA is in deep mourning and has her eyes fixed on a photograph.
LUKA is haranguing her.]
LUKA. It isn’t right, madam.... You’re just destroying yourself. The maid
and the cook have gone off fruit picking, every living being is rejoicing,
even the cat understands how to enjoy herself and walks about in the yard,
catching midges; only you sit in this room all day, as if this was a convent,
and don’t take any pleasure. Yes, really! I reckon it’s a whole year that you
haven’t left the house!
POPOVA. I shall never go out.... Why should I? My life is already at an
end. He is in his grave, and I have buried myself between four walls.... We
are both dead.
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
Page 68
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.
POPOVA. [With determination] I must ask you never to talk to me about it!
You know that when Nicolai Mihailovitch died, life lost all its meaning for
me. I vowed never to the end of my days to cease to wear mourning, or to
see the light.... You hear? Let his ghost see how well I love him.... Yes, I
know it’s no secret to you that he was often unfair to me, cruel, and... and
even unfaithful, but I shall be true till death, and show him how I can love.
There, beyond the grave, he will see me as I was before his death....
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. Oh! [Weeps.]
LUKA. Madam! Dear madam! What is it? Bless you!
POPOVA. He was so fond of Toby! He always used to ride on him to the
Korchagins and Vlasovs. How well he could ride! What grace there was in
his figure when he pulled at the reins with all his strength! Do you
remember? Toby, Toby! Tell them to give him an extra feed of oats.
LUKA. Yes, madam. [A bell rings noisily.]
POPOVA. [Shaking] Who’s that? Tell them that I receive nobody.
LUKA. Yes, madam. [Exit.]
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....
[LUKA enters in consternation.]
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.
POPOVA. [With determination] I must ask you never to talk to me about it!
You know that when Nicolai Mihailovitch died, life lost all its meaning for
me. I vowed never to the end of my days to cease to wear mourning, or to
see the light.... You hear? Let his ghost see how well I love him.... Yes, I
know it’s no secret to you that he was often unfair to me, cruel, and... and
even unfaithful, but I shall be true till death, and show him how I can love.
There, beyond the grave, he will see me as I was before his death....
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. Oh! [Weeps.]
LUKA. Madam! Dear madam! What is it? Bless you!
POPOVA. He was so fond of Toby! He always used to ride on him to the
Korchagins and Vlasovs. How well he could ride! What grace there was in
his figure when he pulled at the reins with all his strength! Do you
remember? Toby, Toby! Tell them to give him an extra feed of oats.
LUKA. Yes, madam. [A bell rings noisily.]
POPOVA. [Shaking] Who’s that? Tell them that I receive nobody.
LUKA. Yes, madam. [Exit.]
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....
[LUKA enters in consternation.]
Page 69
LUKA. Madam, somebody is asking for you. He wants to see you....
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.
POPOVA. I do not re-ceive!
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.
POPOVA. [Not giving him her hand] What do you want?
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. He used to buy oats from me.
POPOVA. [Sighing, to LUKA] So don’t you forget, Luka, to give Toby an
extra feed of oats. [Exit LUKA] If Nicolai Mihailovitch died in debt to you,
then I shall certainly pay you, but you must excuse me to-day, as I haven’t
any spare cash. The day after to-morrow my steward will be back from
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.
POPOVA. I do not re-ceive!
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.
POPOVA. [Not giving him her hand] What do you want?
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. He used to buy oats from me.
POPOVA. [Sighing, to LUKA] So don’t you forget, Luka, to give Toby an
extra feed of oats. [Exit LUKA] If Nicolai Mihailovitch died in debt to you,
then I shall certainly pay you, but you must excuse me to-day, as I haven’t
any spare cash. The day after to-morrow my steward will be back from
Page 70
town, and I’ll give him instructions to settle your account, but at the
moment I cannot do as you wish.... Moreover, it’s exactly seven months to-
day since the death of my husband, and I’m in a state of mind which
absolutely prevents me from giving money matters my attention.
SMIRNOV. And I’m in a state of mind which, if I don’t pay the interest due
to-morrow, will force me to make a graceful exit from this life feet first.
They’ll take my estate!
POPOVA. You’ll have your money the day after to-morrow.
SMIRNOV. I don’t want the money the day after tomorrow, I want it to-day.
POPOVA. You must excuse me, I can’t pay you.
SMIRNOV. And I can’t wait till after to-morrow.
POPOVA. Well, what can I do, if I haven’t the money now!
SMIRNOV. You mean to say, you can’t pay me?
POPOVA. I can’t.
SMIRNOV. Hm! Is that the last word you’ve got to say?
POPOVA. Yes, the last word.
SMIRNOV. The last word? Absolutely your last?
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.
moment I cannot do as you wish.... Moreover, it’s exactly seven months to-
day since the death of my husband, and I’m in a state of mind which
absolutely prevents me from giving money matters my attention.
SMIRNOV. And I’m in a state of mind which, if I don’t pay the interest due
to-morrow, will force me to make a graceful exit from this life feet first.
They’ll take my estate!
POPOVA. You’ll have your money the day after to-morrow.
SMIRNOV. I don’t want the money the day after tomorrow, I want it to-day.
POPOVA. You must excuse me, I can’t pay you.
SMIRNOV. And I can’t wait till after to-morrow.
POPOVA. Well, what can I do, if I haven’t the money now!
SMIRNOV. You mean to say, you can’t pay me?
POPOVA. I can’t.
SMIRNOV. Hm! Is that the last word you’ve got to say?
POPOVA. Yes, the last word.
SMIRNOV. The last word? Absolutely your last?
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.
Page 71
POPOVA. I thought I distinctly said my steward will pay you when he
returns from town.
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!
POPOVA. Excuse me, sir, I am not accustomed to listen to such expressions
or to such a tone of voice. I want to hear no more. [Makes a rapid exit.]
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.]
LUKA. What is it?
SMIRNOV. Get me some kvass or water! [Exit LUKA] What a way to
reason! A man is in desperate need of his money, and she won’t pay it
because, you see, she is not disposed to attend to money matters!... That’s
real silly feminine logic. That’s why I never did like, and don’t like now, to
have to talk to women. I’d rather sit on a barrel of gunpowder than talk to a
woman. Brr!... I feel quite chilly—and it’s all on account of that little bit of
fluff! I can’t even see one of these poetic creatures from a distance without
breaking out into a cold sweat out of sheer anger. I can’t look at them.
[Enter LUKA with water.]
returns from town.
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!
POPOVA. Excuse me, sir, I am not accustomed to listen to such expressions
or to such a tone of voice. I want to hear no more. [Makes a rapid exit.]
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.]
LUKA. What is it?
SMIRNOV. Get me some kvass or water! [Exit LUKA] What a way to
reason! A man is in desperate need of his money, and she won’t pay it
because, you see, she is not disposed to attend to money matters!... That’s
real silly feminine logic. That’s why I never did like, and don’t like now, to
have to talk to women. I’d rather sit on a barrel of gunpowder than talk to a
woman. Brr!... I feel quite chilly—and it’s all on account of that little bit of
fluff! I can’t even see one of these poetic creatures from a distance without
breaking out into a cold sweat out of sheer anger. I can’t look at them.
[Enter LUKA with water.]
Page 72
LUKA. Madam is ill and will see nobody.
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. What is it?
SMIRNOV. A glass of vodka! [Exit LUKA] Ouf! [Sits and inspects himself]
I must say I look well! Dust all over, boots dirty, unwashed, unkempt, straw
on my waistcoat.... The dear lady may well have taken me for a brigand.
[Yawns] It’s rather impolite to come into a drawing-room in this state, but it
can’t be helped.... I am not here as a visitor, but as a creditor, and there’s no
dress specially prescribed for creditors....
[Enter LUKA with the vodka.]
LUKA. You allow yourself to go very far, sir....
SMIRNOV [Angrily] What?
LUKA. I... er... nothing... I really...
SMIRNOV. Whom are you talking to? Shut up!
LUKA. [Aside] The devil’s come to stay.... Bad luck that brought him....
[Exit.]
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. What is it?
SMIRNOV. A glass of vodka! [Exit LUKA] Ouf! [Sits and inspects himself]
I must say I look well! Dust all over, boots dirty, unwashed, unkempt, straw
on my waistcoat.... The dear lady may well have taken me for a brigand.
[Yawns] It’s rather impolite to come into a drawing-room in this state, but it
can’t be helped.... I am not here as a visitor, but as a creditor, and there’s no
dress specially prescribed for creditors....
[Enter LUKA with the vodka.]
LUKA. You allow yourself to go very far, sir....
SMIRNOV [Angrily] What?
LUKA. I... er... nothing... I really...
SMIRNOV. Whom are you talking to? Shut up!
LUKA. [Aside] The devil’s come to stay.... Bad luck that brought him....
[Exit.]
Page 73
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.]
POPOVA. [Her eyes downcast] Sir, in my solitude I have grown
unaccustomed to the masculine voice, and I can’t stand shouting. I must ask
you not to disturb my peace.
SMIRNOV. Pay me the money, and I’ll go.
POPOVA. I told you perfectly plainly; I haven’t any money to spare; wait
until the day after to-morrow.
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. But what can I do if I haven’t got the money? You’re so strange!
SMIRNOV. Then you won’t pay me now? Eh?
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?
POPOVA. Please don’t shout! This isn’t a stable!
SMIRNOV. I wasn’t asking you about a stable, but whether I’d got my
interest to pay to-morrow or not?
POPOVA. You don’t know how to behave before women!
SMIRNOV. No, I do know how to behave before women!
POPOVA. No, you don’t! You’re a rude, ill-bred man! Decent people don’t
talk to a woman like that!
whole world to dust.... I even feel sick.... [Yells] Waiter!
[Enter POPOVA.]
POPOVA. [Her eyes downcast] Sir, in my solitude I have grown
unaccustomed to the masculine voice, and I can’t stand shouting. I must ask
you not to disturb my peace.
SMIRNOV. Pay me the money, and I’ll go.
POPOVA. I told you perfectly plainly; I haven’t any money to spare; wait
until the day after to-morrow.
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. But what can I do if I haven’t got the money? You’re so strange!
SMIRNOV. Then you won’t pay me now? Eh?
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?
POPOVA. Please don’t shout! This isn’t a stable!
SMIRNOV. I wasn’t asking you about a stable, but whether I’d got my
interest to pay to-morrow or not?
POPOVA. You don’t know how to behave before women!
SMIRNOV. No, I do know how to behave before women!
POPOVA. No, you don’t! You’re a rude, ill-bred man! Decent people don’t
talk to a woman like that!
Page 74
SMIRNOV. What a business! How do you want me to talk to you? In
French, or what? [Loses his temper and lisps] Madame, je vous prie.... How
happy I am that you don’t pay me.... Ah, pardon. I have disturbed you! Such
lovely weather to-day! And how well you look in mourning! [Bows.]
POPOVA. That’s silly and rude.
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
French, or what? [Loses his temper and lisps] Madame, je vous prie.... How
happy I am that you don’t pay me.... Ah, pardon. I have disturbed you! Such
lovely weather to-day! And how well you look in mourning! [Bows.]
POPOVA. That’s silly and rude.
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
Page 75
faithful and constant! You’ll meet a cat with a horn or a white woodcock
sooner than a constant woman!
POPOVA. Then, according to you, who is faithful and constant in love? Is it
the man?
SMIRNOV. Yes, the man!
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....
SMIRNOV. [Laughs contemptuously] Weeds!... I don’t understand what
you take me for. As if I don’t know why you wear that black domino and
bury yourself between four walls! I should say I did! It’s so mysterious, so
poetic! When some junker [Note: So in the original.] or some tame poet
goes past your windows he’ll think: “There lives the mysterious Tamara
who, for the love of her husband, buried herself between four walls.” We
know these games!
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!
POPOVA. How dare you speak to me like that?
sooner than a constant woman!
POPOVA. Then, according to you, who is faithful and constant in love? Is it
the man?
SMIRNOV. Yes, the man!
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....
SMIRNOV. [Laughs contemptuously] Weeds!... I don’t understand what
you take me for. As if I don’t know why you wear that black domino and
bury yourself between four walls! I should say I did! It’s so mysterious, so
poetic! When some junker [Note: So in the original.] or some tame poet
goes past your windows he’ll think: “There lives the mysterious Tamara
who, for the love of her husband, buried herself between four walls.” We
know these games!
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!
POPOVA. How dare you speak to me like that?
Page 76
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’m not shouting, it’s you! Please leave me alone!
SMIRNOV. Pay me my money and I’ll go.
POPOVA. I shan’t give you any money!
SMIRNOV. Oh, no, you will.
POPOVA. I shan’t give you a farthing, just to spite you. You leave me
alone!
SMIRNOV. I have not the pleasure of being either your husband or your
fiancé, so please don’t make scenes. [Sits] I don’t like it.
POPOVA. [Choking with rage] So you sit down?
SMIRNOV. I do.
POPOVA. I ask you to go away!
SMIRNOV. Give me my money.... [Aside] Oh, how angry I am! How angry
I am!
POPOVA. I don’t want to talk to impudent scoundrels! Get out of this!
[Pause] Aren’t you going? No?
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...
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’m not shouting, it’s you! Please leave me alone!
SMIRNOV. Pay me my money and I’ll go.
POPOVA. I shan’t give you any money!
SMIRNOV. Oh, no, you will.
POPOVA. I shan’t give you a farthing, just to spite you. You leave me
alone!
SMIRNOV. I have not the pleasure of being either your husband or your
fiancé, so please don’t make scenes. [Sits] I don’t like it.
POPOVA. [Choking with rage] So you sit down?
SMIRNOV. I do.
POPOVA. I ask you to go away!
SMIRNOV. Give me my money.... [Aside] Oh, how angry I am! How angry
I am!
POPOVA. I don’t want to talk to impudent scoundrels! Get out of this!
[Pause] Aren’t you going? No?
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...
Page 77
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. Get out of this, now.
SMIRNOV. Can’t you be more polite?
POPOVA. [Clenches her fists and stamps her foot] You’re a boor! A coarse
bear! A Bourbon! A monster!
SMIRNOV. What? What did you say?
POPOVA. I said you are a bear, a monster!
SMIRNOV. [Approaching her] May I ask what right you have to insult me?
POPOVA. And suppose I am insulting you? Do you think I’m afraid of
you?
SMIRNOV. And do you think that just because you’re a poetic creature you
can insult me with impunity? Eh? We’ll fight it out!
LUKA. Little fathers!... What people!... Water!
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. We’ll fight it out! I’m not going to be insulted by anybody, and
I don’t care if you are a woman, one of the “softer sex,” indeed!
POPOVA. [Trying to interrupt him] Bear! Bear! Bear!
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. Get out of this, now.
SMIRNOV. Can’t you be more polite?
POPOVA. [Clenches her fists and stamps her foot] You’re a boor! A coarse
bear! A Bourbon! A monster!
SMIRNOV. What? What did you say?
POPOVA. I said you are a bear, a monster!
SMIRNOV. [Approaching her] May I ask what right you have to insult me?
POPOVA. And suppose I am insulting you? Do you think I’m afraid of
you?
SMIRNOV. And do you think that just because you’re a poetic creature you
can insult me with impunity? Eh? We’ll fight it out!
LUKA. Little fathers!... What people!... Water!
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. We’ll fight it out! I’m not going to be insulted by anybody, and
I don’t care if you are a woman, one of the “softer sex,” indeed!
POPOVA. [Trying to interrupt him] Bear! Bear! Bear!
Page 78
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. With pistols? Very well!
SMIRNOV. This very minute.
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!
SMIRNOV. She is a woman! That’s the sort I can understand! A real
woman! Not a sour-faced jellybag, but fire, gunpowder, a rocket! I’m even
sorry to have to kill her!
LUKA. [Weeps] Dear... dear sir, do go away!
SMIRNOV. I absolutely like her! Absolutely! Even though her cheeks are
dimpled, I like her! I’m almost ready to let the debt go... and I’m not angry
any longer.... Wonderful woman!
[Enter POPOVA with pistols.]
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. With pistols? Very well!
SMIRNOV. This very minute.
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!
SMIRNOV. She is a woman! That’s the sort I can understand! A real
woman! Not a sour-faced jellybag, but fire, gunpowder, a rocket! I’m even
sorry to have to kill her!
LUKA. [Weeps] Dear... dear sir, do go away!
SMIRNOV. I absolutely like her! Absolutely! Even though her cheeks are
dimpled, I like her! I’m almost ready to let the debt go... and I’m not angry
any longer.... Wonderful woman!
[Enter POPOVA with pistols.]
Page 79
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!
POPOVA. Like this?
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.
POPOVA. Very well.... It’s inconvenient to shoot in a room, let’s go into the
garden.
SMIRNOV. Come along then. But I warn you, I’m going to fire in the air.
POPOVA. That’s the last straw! Why?
SMIRNOV. Because... because... it’s my affair.
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. Yes, I am afraid.
POPOVA. You lie! Why won’t you fight?
SMIRNOV. Because... because you... because I like you.
POPOVA. [Laughs] He likes me! He dares to say that he likes me! [Points
to the door] That’s the way.
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!
POPOVA. Like this?
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.
POPOVA. Very well.... It’s inconvenient to shoot in a room, let’s go into the
garden.
SMIRNOV. Come along then. But I warn you, I’m going to fire in the air.
POPOVA. That’s the last straw! Why?
SMIRNOV. Because... because... it’s my affair.
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. Yes, I am afraid.
POPOVA. You lie! Why won’t you fight?
SMIRNOV. Because... because you... because I like you.
POPOVA. [Laughs] He likes me! He dares to say that he likes me! [Points
to the door] That’s the way.
Page 80
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!
POPOVA. Get away from me—I hate 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!
POPOVA. Stand back, or I’ll fire!
SMIRNOV. Fire, then! You can’t understand what happiness it would be to
die before those beautiful eyes, to be shot by a revolver held in that little,
velvet hand.... I’m out of my senses! Think, and make up your mind at
once, because if I go out we shall never see each other again! Decide now....
I am a landowner, of respectable character, have an income of ten thousand
a year. I can put a bullet through a coin tossed into the air as it comes
down.... I own some fine horses.... Will you be my wife?
POPOVA. [Indignantly shakes her revolver] Let’s fight! Let’s go out!
SMIRNOV. I’m mad.... I understand nothing. [Yells] Waiter, water!
POPOVA. [Yells] Let’s go out and fight!
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.
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!
POPOVA. Get away from me—I hate 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!
POPOVA. Stand back, or I’ll fire!
SMIRNOV. Fire, then! You can’t understand what happiness it would be to
die before those beautiful eyes, to be shot by a revolver held in that little,
velvet hand.... I’m out of my senses! Think, and make up your mind at
once, because if I go out we shall never see each other again! Decide now....
I am a landowner, of respectable character, have an income of ten thousand
a year. I can put a bullet through a coin tossed into the air as it comes
down.... I own some fine horses.... Will you be my wife?
POPOVA. [Indignantly shakes her revolver] Let’s fight! Let’s go out!
SMIRNOV. I’m mad.... I understand nothing. [Yells] Waiter, water!
POPOVA. [Yells] Let’s go out and fight!
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.
Page 81
SMIRNOV. [Stops] Well?
POPOVA. Nothing, go away.... No, stop.... No, go away, go away! I hate
you! Or no.... Don’t go away! Oh, if you knew how angry I am, how angry I
am! [Throws her revolver on the table] My fingers have swollen because of
all this.... [Tears her handkerchief in temper] What are you waiting for? Get
out!
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!
SMIRNOV. [Approaching her] How angry I am with myself! I’m in love
like a student, I’ve been on my knees.... [Rudely] I love you! What do I
want to fall in love with you for? To-morrow I’ve got to pay the interest,
and begin mowing, and here you.... [Puts his arms around her] I shall never
forgive myself for this....
POPOVA. Get away from me! Take your hands away! I hate you! Let’s go
and fight!
[A prolonged kiss. Enter LUKA with an axe, the GARDENER with a rake,
the COACHMAN with a pitchfork, and WORKMEN with poles.]
LUKA. [Catches sight of the pair kissing] Little fathers! [Pause.]
POPOVA. [Lowering her eyes] Luka, tell them in the stables that Toby isn’t
to have any oats at all to-day.
Curtain.
POPOVA. Nothing, go away.... No, stop.... No, go away, go away! I hate
you! Or no.... Don’t go away! Oh, if you knew how angry I am, how angry I
am! [Throws her revolver on the table] My fingers have swollen because of
all this.... [Tears her handkerchief in temper] What are you waiting for? Get
out!
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!
SMIRNOV. [Approaching her] How angry I am with myself! I’m in love
like a student, I’ve been on my knees.... [Rudely] I love you! What do I
want to fall in love with you for? To-morrow I’ve got to pay the interest,
and begin mowing, and here you.... [Puts his arms around her] I shall never
forgive myself for this....
POPOVA. Get away from me! Take your hands away! I hate you! Let’s go
and fight!
[A prolonged kiss. Enter LUKA with an axe, the GARDENER with a rake,
the COACHMAN with a pitchfork, and WORKMEN with poles.]
LUKA. [Catches sight of the pair kissing] Little fathers! [Pause.]
POPOVA. [Lowering her eyes] Luka, tell them in the stables that Toby isn’t
to have any oats at all to-day.
Curtain.
Page 82
Page 83
A TRAGEDIAN IN SPITE OF HIMSELF
CHARACTERS
IVAN IVANOVITCH TOLKACHOV, the father of a family
ALEXEY ALEXEYEVITCH MURASHKIN, his friend
The scene is laid in St. Petersburg, in MURASHKIN’S flat
[MURASHKIN’S study. Comfortable furniture. MURASHKIN is seated at
his desk. Enter TOLKACHOV holding in his hands a glass globe for a
lamp, a toy bicycle, three hat-boxes, a large parcel containing a dress, a bin-
case of beer, and several little parcels. He looks round stupidly and lets
himself down on the sofa in exhaustion.]
MURASHKIN. How do you do, Ivan Ivanovitch? Delighted to see you!
What brings you here?
TOLKACHOV. [Breathing heavily] My dear good fellow... I want to ask
you something.... I implore you lend me a revolver till to-morrow. Be a
friend!
MURASHKIN. What do you want a revolver for?
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. Wait a moment, let me breathe.... Oh little mothers! I am
dog-tired. I’ve got a feeling all over me, and in my head as well, as if I’ve
been roasted on a spit. I can’t stand it any longer. Be a friend, and don’t ask
me any questions or insist on details; just give me the revolver! I beseech
you!
CHARACTERS
IVAN IVANOVITCH TOLKACHOV, the father of a family
ALEXEY ALEXEYEVITCH MURASHKIN, his friend
The scene is laid in St. Petersburg, in MURASHKIN’S flat
[MURASHKIN’S study. Comfortable furniture. MURASHKIN is seated at
his desk. Enter TOLKACHOV holding in his hands a glass globe for a
lamp, a toy bicycle, three hat-boxes, a large parcel containing a dress, a bin-
case of beer, and several little parcels. He looks round stupidly and lets
himself down on the sofa in exhaustion.]
MURASHKIN. How do you do, Ivan Ivanovitch? Delighted to see you!
What brings you here?
TOLKACHOV. [Breathing heavily] My dear good fellow... I want to ask
you something.... I implore you lend me a revolver till to-morrow. Be a
friend!
MURASHKIN. What do you want a revolver for?
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. Wait a moment, let me breathe.... Oh little mothers! I am
dog-tired. I’ve got a feeling all over me, and in my head as well, as if I’ve
been roasted on a spit. I can’t stand it any longer. Be a friend, and don’t ask
me any questions or insist on details; just give me the revolver! I beseech
you!
Page 84
MURASHKIN. Well, really! Ivan Ivanovitch, what cowardice is this? The
father of a family and a Civil Servant holding a responsible post! For
shame!
TOLKACHOV. What sort of a father of a family am I! I am a martyr. I am a
beast of burden, a nigger, a slave, a rascal who keeps on waiting here for
something to happen instead of starting off for the next world. I am a rag, a
fool, an idiot. Why am I alive? What’s the use? [Jumps up] Well now, tell
me why am I alive? What’s the purpose of this uninterrupted series of
mental and physical sufferings? I understand being a martyr to an idea, yes!
But to be a martyr to the devil knows what, skirts and lamp-globes, no! I
humbly decline! No, no, no! I’ve had enough! Enough!
MURASHKIN. Don’t shout, the neighbours will hear you!
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!
MURASHKIN. Hold on, you’ve pulled off a button. Speak calmly. I still
don’t understand what’s wrong with your life.
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,
father of a family and a Civil Servant holding a responsible post! For
shame!
TOLKACHOV. What sort of a father of a family am I! I am a martyr. I am a
beast of burden, a nigger, a slave, a rascal who keeps on waiting here for
something to happen instead of starting off for the next world. I am a rag, a
fool, an idiot. Why am I alive? What’s the use? [Jumps up] Well now, tell
me why am I alive? What’s the purpose of this uninterrupted series of
mental and physical sufferings? I understand being a martyr to an idea, yes!
But to be a martyr to the devil knows what, skirts and lamp-globes, no! I
humbly decline! No, no, no! I’ve had enough! Enough!
MURASHKIN. Don’t shout, the neighbours will hear you!
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!
MURASHKIN. Hold on, you’ve pulled off a button. Speak calmly. I still
don’t understand what’s wrong with your life.
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,
Page 85
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
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
Page 86
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!
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!
Page 87
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?
TOLKACHOV. At Carrion River.
MURASHKIN. [Delighted] Really? Then you’ll know Olga Pavlovna
Finberg, who lives there?
TOLKACHOV. I know her. We are even acquainted.
MURASHKIN. How perfectly splendid! That’s so convenient, and it would
be so good of you...
TOLKACHOV. What’s that?
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?
TOLKACHOV. At Carrion River.
MURASHKIN. [Delighted] Really? Then you’ll know Olga Pavlovna
Finberg, who lives there?
TOLKACHOV. I know her. We are even acquainted.
MURASHKIN. How perfectly splendid! That’s so convenient, and it would
be so good of you...
TOLKACHOV. What’s that?
Page 88
MURASHKIN. My dear fellow, wouldn’t you do one little thing for me? Be
a friend! Promise me now.
TOLKACHOV. What’s that?
MURASHKIN. It would be such a friendly action! I implore you, my dear
man. In the first place, give Olga Pavlovna my very kind regards. In the
second place, there’s a little thing I’d like you to take down to her. She
asked me to get a sewing-machine but I haven’t anybody to send it down to
her by.... You take it, my dear! And you might at the same time take down
this canary in its cage... only be careful, or you’ll break the door.... What are
you looking at me like that for?
TOLKACHOV. A sewing-machine... a canary in a cage... siskins,
chaffinches...
MURASHKIN. Ivan Ivanovitch, what’s the matter with you? Why are you
turning purple?
TOLKACHOV. [Stamping] Give me the sewing-machine! Where’s the
bird-cage? Now get on top yourself! Eat me! Tear me to pieces! Kill me!
[Clenching his fists] I want blood! Blood! Blood!
MURASHKIN. You’ve gone mad!
TOLKACHOV. [Treading on his feet] I want blood! Blood!
MURASHKIN. [In horror] He’s gone mad! [Shouts] Peter! Maria! Where
are you? Help!
TOLKACHOV. [Chasing him round the room] I want blood! Blood!
Curtain.
a friend! Promise me now.
TOLKACHOV. What’s that?
MURASHKIN. It would be such a friendly action! I implore you, my dear
man. In the first place, give Olga Pavlovna my very kind regards. In the
second place, there’s a little thing I’d like you to take down to her. She
asked me to get a sewing-machine but I haven’t anybody to send it down to
her by.... You take it, my dear! And you might at the same time take down
this canary in its cage... only be careful, or you’ll break the door.... What are
you looking at me like that for?
TOLKACHOV. A sewing-machine... a canary in a cage... siskins,
chaffinches...
MURASHKIN. Ivan Ivanovitch, what’s the matter with you? Why are you
turning purple?
TOLKACHOV. [Stamping] Give me the sewing-machine! Where’s the
bird-cage? Now get on top yourself! Eat me! Tear me to pieces! Kill me!
[Clenching his fists] I want blood! Blood! Blood!
MURASHKIN. You’ve gone mad!
TOLKACHOV. [Treading on his feet] I want blood! Blood!
MURASHKIN. [In horror] He’s gone mad! [Shouts] Peter! Maria! Where
are you? Help!
TOLKACHOV. [Chasing him round the room] I want blood! Blood!
Curtain.
Page 89
THE ANNIVERSARY
CHARACTERS
ANDREY ANDREYEVITCH SHIPUCHIN, Chairman of the N—— Joint Stock
Bank, a middle-aged man, with a monocle
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA, his wife, aged 25
KUSMA NICOLAIEVITCH KHIRIN, the bank’s aged book-keeper
NASTASYA FYODOROVNA MERCHUTKINA, an old woman wearing an old-fashioned
cloak
DIRECTORS OF THE BANK
EMPLOYEES OF THE BANK
The action takes place at the Bank
[The private office of the Chairman of Directors. On the left is a door,
leading into the public department. There are two desks. The furniture aims
at a deliberately luxurious effect, with armchairs covered in velvet, flowers,
statues, carpets, and a telephone. It is midday. KHIRIN is alone; he wears
long felt boots, and is shouting through the door.]
KHIRIN. Send out to the chemist for 15 copecks’ worth of valerian drops,
and tell them to bring some drinking water into the Directors’ office! This is
the hundredth time I’ve asked! [Goes to a desk] I’m absolutely tired out.
This is the fourth day I’ve been working, without a chance of shutting my
eyes. From morning to evening I work here, from evening to morning at
home. [Coughs] And I’ve got an inflammation all over me. I’m hot and
cold, and I cough, and my legs ache, and there’s something dancing before
my eyes. [Sits] Our scoundrel of a Chairman, the brute, is going to read a
report at a general meeting. “Our Bank, its Present and Future.” You’d think
he was a Gambetta.... [At work] Two... one... one... six... nought... seven....
Next, six... nought... one... six.... He just wants to throw dust into people’s
eyes, and so I sit here and work for him like a galley-slave! This report of
his is poetic fiction and nothing more, and here I’ve got to sit day after day
and add figures, devil take his soul! [Rattles on his counting-frame] I can’t
stand it! [Writing] That is, one... three... seven... two... one... nought.... He
promised to reward me for my work. If everything goes well to-day and the
public is properly put into blinkers, he’s promised me a gold charm and 300
CHARACTERS
ANDREY ANDREYEVITCH SHIPUCHIN, Chairman of the N—— Joint Stock
Bank, a middle-aged man, with a monocle
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA, his wife, aged 25
KUSMA NICOLAIEVITCH KHIRIN, the bank’s aged book-keeper
NASTASYA FYODOROVNA MERCHUTKINA, an old woman wearing an old-fashioned
cloak
DIRECTORS OF THE BANK
EMPLOYEES OF THE BANK
The action takes place at the Bank
[The private office of the Chairman of Directors. On the left is a door,
leading into the public department. There are two desks. The furniture aims
at a deliberately luxurious effect, with armchairs covered in velvet, flowers,
statues, carpets, and a telephone. It is midday. KHIRIN is alone; he wears
long felt boots, and is shouting through the door.]
KHIRIN. Send out to the chemist for 15 copecks’ worth of valerian drops,
and tell them to bring some drinking water into the Directors’ office! This is
the hundredth time I’ve asked! [Goes to a desk] I’m absolutely tired out.
This is the fourth day I’ve been working, without a chance of shutting my
eyes. From morning to evening I work here, from evening to morning at
home. [Coughs] And I’ve got an inflammation all over me. I’m hot and
cold, and I cough, and my legs ache, and there’s something dancing before
my eyes. [Sits] Our scoundrel of a Chairman, the brute, is going to read a
report at a general meeting. “Our Bank, its Present and Future.” You’d think
he was a Gambetta.... [At work] Two... one... one... six... nought... seven....
Next, six... nought... one... six.... He just wants to throw dust into people’s
eyes, and so I sit here and work for him like a galley-slave! This report of
his is poetic fiction and nothing more, and here I’ve got to sit day after day
and add figures, devil take his soul! [Rattles on his counting-frame] I can’t
stand it! [Writing] That is, one... three... seven... two... one... nought.... He
promised to reward me for my work. If everything goes well to-day and the
public is properly put into blinkers, he’s promised me a gold charm and 300
Page 90
roubles bonus.... We’ll see. [Works] Yes, but if my work all goes for
nothing, then you’d better look out.... I’m very excitable.... If I lose my
temper I’m capable of committing some crime, so look out! Yes!
[Noise and applause behind the scenes. SHIPUCHIN’S voice: “Thank you!
Thank you! I am extremely grateful.” Enter SHIPUCHIN. He wears a
frockcoat and white tie; he carries an album which has been just presented
to him.]
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!
[All the time that SHIPUCHIN is on the stage, clerks intermittently come in
with papers for his signature and go out.]
KHIRIN. [Standing up] I have the honour to congratulate you, Andrey
Andreyevitch, on the fiftieth anniversary of our Bank, and hope that...
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. Yes; there’s only five pages left.
SHIPUCHIN. Excellent. Then it will be ready by three?
KHIRIN. If nothing occurs to disturb me, I’ll get it done. Nothing of any
importance is now left.
SHIPUCHIN. Splendid. Splendid, as my name’s Shipuchin! The general
meeting will be at four. If you please, my dear fellow. Give me the first half,
I’ll peruse it.... Quick.... [Takes the report] I base enormous hopes on this
nothing, then you’d better look out.... I’m very excitable.... If I lose my
temper I’m capable of committing some crime, so look out! Yes!
[Noise and applause behind the scenes. SHIPUCHIN’S voice: “Thank you!
Thank you! I am extremely grateful.” Enter SHIPUCHIN. He wears a
frockcoat and white tie; he carries an album which has been just presented
to him.]
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!
[All the time that SHIPUCHIN is on the stage, clerks intermittently come in
with papers for his signature and go out.]
KHIRIN. [Standing up] I have the honour to congratulate you, Andrey
Andreyevitch, on the fiftieth anniversary of our Bank, and hope that...
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. Yes; there’s only five pages left.
SHIPUCHIN. Excellent. Then it will be ready by three?
KHIRIN. If nothing occurs to disturb me, I’ll get it done. Nothing of any
importance is now left.
SHIPUCHIN. Splendid. Splendid, as my name’s Shipuchin! The general
meeting will be at four. If you please, my dear fellow. Give me the first half,
I’ll peruse it.... Quick.... [Takes the report] I base enormous hopes on this
Page 91
report. It’s my profession de foi, or, better still, my firework. [Note: The
actual word employed.] My firework, as my name’s Shipuchin! [Sits and
reads the report to himself] I’m hellishly tired.... My gout kept on giving me
trouble last night, all the morning I was running about, and then these
excitements, ovations, agitations... I’m tired!
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.]
SHIPUCHIN. Another unpleasantness.... This morning your wife came to
see me and complained about you once again. Said that last night you
threatened her and her sister with a knife. Kusma Nicolaievitch, what do
you mean by that? Oh, oh!
KHIRIN. [Rudely] As it’s an anniversary, Andrey Andreyevitch, I’ll ask for
a special favour. Please, even if it’s only out of respect for my toil, don’t
interfere in my family life. Please!
SHIPUCHIN. [Sighs] Yours is an impossible character, Kusma
Nicolaievitch! You’re an excellent and respected man, but you behave to
women like some scoundrel. Yes, really. I don’t understand why you hate
them so?
KHIRIN. I wish I could understand why you love them so! [Pause.]
SHIPUCHIN. The employees have just presented me with an album; and
the Directors, as I’ve heard, are going to give me an address and a silver
loving-cup.... [Playing with his monocle] Very nice, as my name’s
Shipuchin! It isn’t excessive. A certain pomp is essential to the reputation of
the Bank, devil take it! You know everything, of course.... I composed the
address myself, and I bought the cup myself, too.... Well, then there was 45
roubles for the cover of the address, but you can’t do without that. They’d
never have thought of it for themselves. [Looks round] Look at the
furniture! Just look at it! They say I’m stingy, that all I want is that the locks
on the doors should be polished, that the employees should wear
fashionable ties, and that a fat hall-porter should stand by the door. No, no,
sirs. Polished locks and a fat porter mean a good deal. I can behave as I like
at home, eat and sleep like a pig, get drunk....
actual word employed.] My firework, as my name’s Shipuchin! [Sits and
reads the report to himself] I’m hellishly tired.... My gout kept on giving me
trouble last night, all the morning I was running about, and then these
excitements, ovations, agitations... I’m tired!
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.]
SHIPUCHIN. Another unpleasantness.... This morning your wife came to
see me and complained about you once again. Said that last night you
threatened her and her sister with a knife. Kusma Nicolaievitch, what do
you mean by that? Oh, oh!
KHIRIN. [Rudely] As it’s an anniversary, Andrey Andreyevitch, I’ll ask for
a special favour. Please, even if it’s only out of respect for my toil, don’t
interfere in my family life. Please!
SHIPUCHIN. [Sighs] Yours is an impossible character, Kusma
Nicolaievitch! You’re an excellent and respected man, but you behave to
women like some scoundrel. Yes, really. I don’t understand why you hate
them so?
KHIRIN. I wish I could understand why you love them so! [Pause.]
SHIPUCHIN. The employees have just presented me with an album; and
the Directors, as I’ve heard, are going to give me an address and a silver
loving-cup.... [Playing with his monocle] Very nice, as my name’s
Shipuchin! It isn’t excessive. A certain pomp is essential to the reputation of
the Bank, devil take it! You know everything, of course.... I composed the
address myself, and I bought the cup myself, too.... Well, then there was 45
roubles for the cover of the address, but you can’t do without that. They’d
never have thought of it for themselves. [Looks round] Look at the
furniture! Just look at it! They say I’m stingy, that all I want is that the locks
on the doors should be polished, that the employees should wear
fashionable ties, and that a fat hall-porter should stand by the door. No, no,
sirs. Polished locks and a fat porter mean a good deal. I can behave as I like
at home, eat and sleep like a pig, get drunk....
Page 92
KHIRIN. Please don’t make hints.
SHIPUCHIN. Nobody’s making hints! What an impossible character yours
is.... As I was saying, at home I can live like a tradesman, a parvenu, and be
up to any games I like, but here everything must be en grand. This is a
Bank! Here every detail must imponiren, so to speak, and have a majestic
appearance. [He picks up a paper from the floor and throws it into the
fireplace] My service to the Bank has been just this—I’ve raised its
reputation. A thing of immense importance is tone! Immense, as my name’s
Shipuchin! [Looks over KHIRIN] My dear man, a deputation of
shareholders may come here any moment, and there you are in felt boots,
wearing a scarf... in some absurdly coloured jacket.... You might have put
on a frock-coat, or at any rate a dark jacket....
KHIRIN. My health matters more to me than your shareholders. I’ve an
inflammation all over me.
SHIPUCHIN. [Excitedly] But you will admit that it’s untidy! You spoil the
ensemble!
KHIRIN. If the deputation comes I can go and hide myself. It won’t matter
if... seven... one... seven... two... one... five... nought. I don’t like untidiness
myself.... Seven... two... nine... [Uses the counting-frame] I can’t stand
untidiness! It would have been wiser of you not to have invited ladies to to-
day’s anniversary dinner....
SHIPUCHIN. Oh, that’s nothing.
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.
SHIPUCHIN. On the contrary, feminine society elevates!
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
SHIPUCHIN. Nobody’s making hints! What an impossible character yours
is.... As I was saying, at home I can live like a tradesman, a parvenu, and be
up to any games I like, but here everything must be en grand. This is a
Bank! Here every detail must imponiren, so to speak, and have a majestic
appearance. [He picks up a paper from the floor and throws it into the
fireplace] My service to the Bank has been just this—I’ve raised its
reputation. A thing of immense importance is tone! Immense, as my name’s
Shipuchin! [Looks over KHIRIN] My dear man, a deputation of
shareholders may come here any moment, and there you are in felt boots,
wearing a scarf... in some absurdly coloured jacket.... You might have put
on a frock-coat, or at any rate a dark jacket....
KHIRIN. My health matters more to me than your shareholders. I’ve an
inflammation all over me.
SHIPUCHIN. [Excitedly] But you will admit that it’s untidy! You spoil the
ensemble!
KHIRIN. If the deputation comes I can go and hide myself. It won’t matter
if... seven... one... seven... two... one... five... nought. I don’t like untidiness
myself.... Seven... two... nine... [Uses the counting-frame] I can’t stand
untidiness! It would have been wiser of you not to have invited ladies to to-
day’s anniversary dinner....
SHIPUCHIN. Oh, that’s nothing.
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.
SHIPUCHIN. On the contrary, feminine society elevates!
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
Page 93
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!
[Enter TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA SHIPUCHIN in a waterproof, with a
little travelling satchel slung across her shoulder.]
SHIPUCHIN. Ah! In the nick of time!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. Darling!
[Runs to her husband: a prolonged kiss.]
SHIPUCHIN. We were only speaking of you just now! [Looks at his
watch.]
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. Splendid. Mamma and Katya send their
regards. Vassili Andreitch sends you a kiss. [Kisses him] Aunt sends you a
jar of jam, and is annoyed because you don’t write. Zina sends you a kiss.
[Kisses.] Oh, if you knew what’s happened. If you only knew! I’m even
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!
[Enter TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA SHIPUCHIN in a waterproof, with a
little travelling satchel slung across her shoulder.]
SHIPUCHIN. Ah! In the nick of time!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. Darling!
[Runs to her husband: a prolonged kiss.]
SHIPUCHIN. We were only speaking of you just now! [Looks at his
watch.]
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. Splendid. Mamma and Katya send their
regards. Vassili Andreitch sends you a kiss. [Kisses him] Aunt sends you a
jar of jam, and is annoyed because you don’t write. Zina sends you a kiss.
[Kisses.] Oh, if you knew what’s happened. If you only knew! I’m even
Page 94
frightened to tell you! Oh, if you only knew! But I see by your eyes that
you’re sorry I came!
SHIPUCHIN. On the contrary.... Darling.... [Kisses her.]
[KHIRIN coughs angrily.]
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. Oh, poor Katya, poor Katya! I’m so sorry for
her, so sorry for her.
SHIPUCHIN. This is the Bank’s anniversary to-day, darling, we may get a
deputation of the shareholders at any moment, and you’re not dressed.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. Oh, yes, the anniversary! I congratulate you,
gentlemen. I wish you.... So it means that to-day’s the day of the meeting,
the dinner.... That’s good. And do you remember that beautiful address
which you spent such a long time composing for the shareholders? Will it
be read to-day?
[KHIRIN coughs angrily.]
SHIPUCHIN. [Confused] My dear, we don’t talk about these things. You’d
really better go home.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. In a minute, in a minute. I’ll tell you
everything in one minute and go. I’ll tell you from the very beginning.
Well.... When you were seeing me off, you remember I was sitting next to
that stout lady, and I began to read. I don’t like to talk in the train. I read for
three stations and didn’t say a word to anyone.... Well, then the evening set
in, and I felt so mournful, you know, with such sad thoughts! A young man
was sitting opposite me—not a bad-looking fellow, a brunette.... Well, we
fell into conversation.... A sailor came along then, then some student or
other.... [Laughs] I told them that I wasn’t married... and they did look after
me! We chattered till midnight, the brunette kept on telling the most awfully
funny stories, and the sailor kept on singing. My chest began to ache from
laughing. And when the sailor—oh, those sailors!—when he got to know
my name was TATIANA, you know what he sang? [Sings in a bass voice]
“Onegin don’t let me conceal it, I love Tatiana madly!” [Note: From the
Opera Evgeni Onegin—words by Pushkin.] [Roars with laughter.]
you’re sorry I came!
SHIPUCHIN. On the contrary.... Darling.... [Kisses her.]
[KHIRIN coughs angrily.]
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. Oh, poor Katya, poor Katya! I’m so sorry for
her, so sorry for her.
SHIPUCHIN. This is the Bank’s anniversary to-day, darling, we may get a
deputation of the shareholders at any moment, and you’re not dressed.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. Oh, yes, the anniversary! I congratulate you,
gentlemen. I wish you.... So it means that to-day’s the day of the meeting,
the dinner.... That’s good. And do you remember that beautiful address
which you spent such a long time composing for the shareholders? Will it
be read to-day?
[KHIRIN coughs angrily.]
SHIPUCHIN. [Confused] My dear, we don’t talk about these things. You’d
really better go home.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. In a minute, in a minute. I’ll tell you
everything in one minute and go. I’ll tell you from the very beginning.
Well.... When you were seeing me off, you remember I was sitting next to
that stout lady, and I began to read. I don’t like to talk in the train. I read for
three stations and didn’t say a word to anyone.... Well, then the evening set
in, and I felt so mournful, you know, with such sad thoughts! A young man
was sitting opposite me—not a bad-looking fellow, a brunette.... Well, we
fell into conversation.... A sailor came along then, then some student or
other.... [Laughs] I told them that I wasn’t married... and they did look after
me! We chattered till midnight, the brunette kept on telling the most awfully
funny stories, and the sailor kept on singing. My chest began to ache from
laughing. And when the sailor—oh, those sailors!—when he got to know
my name was TATIANA, you know what he sang? [Sings in a bass voice]
“Onegin don’t let me conceal it, I love Tatiana madly!” [Note: From the
Opera Evgeni Onegin—words by Pushkin.] [Roars with laughter.]
Page 95
[KHIRIN coughs angrily.]
SHIPUCHIN. Tania, dear, you’re disturbing Kusma Nicolaievitch. Go
home, dear.... Later on....
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.
SHIPUCHIN. What do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Well, you see, your excellency, my husband has been ill
for five months, and while he was at home, getting better, he was suddenly
dismissed for no reason, your excellency, and when I went to get his salary,
they, you see, deducted 24 roubles 36 copecks from it. What for? I ask.
They said, “Well, he drew it from the employees’ account, and the others
had to make it up.” How can that be? How could he draw anything without
my permission? No, your excellency! I’m a poor woman... my lodgers are
all I have to live on.... I’m weak and defenceless.... Everybody does me
some harm, and nobody has a kind word for me.
SHIPUCHIN. Excuse me. [Takes a petition from her and reads it standing.]
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....
SHIPUCHIN. Tania, dear, you’re disturbing Kusma Nicolaievitch. Go
home, dear.... Later on....
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.
SHIPUCHIN. What do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Well, you see, your excellency, my husband has been ill
for five months, and while he was at home, getting better, he was suddenly
dismissed for no reason, your excellency, and when I went to get his salary,
they, you see, deducted 24 roubles 36 copecks from it. What for? I ask.
They said, “Well, he drew it from the employees’ account, and the others
had to make it up.” How can that be? How could he draw anything without
my permission? No, your excellency! I’m a poor woman... my lodgers are
all I have to live on.... I’m weak and defenceless.... Everybody does me
some harm, and nobody has a kind word for me.
SHIPUCHIN. Excuse me. [Takes a petition from her and reads it standing.]
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....
Page 96
KHIRIN. [Angrily] Excuse me, you’ve made me lose my place! You go
talking about your mamma and Katya, and I understand nothing; and I’ve
lost my place.
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 MERCHUTKINA] Excuse me, but what is this? I can’t
make head or tail of it.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. Are you in love? Aha! You’re blushing!
SHIPUCHIN. [To his wife] Tanya, dear, do go out into the public office for
a moment. I shan’t be long.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. All right. [Goes out.]
SHIPUCHIN. I don’t understand anything of this. You’ve obviously come
to the wrong place, madam. Your petition doesn’t concern us at all. You
should go to the department in which your husband was employed.
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. We can’t do anything for you, Mrs. Merchutkina. You must
understand that your husband, so far as I can gather, was in the employ of
the Army Medical Department, while this is a private, commercial concern,
a bank. Don’t you understand that?
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, I can produce a doctor’s certificate of
my husband’s illness. Here it is, just look at it....
SHIPUCHIN. [Irritated] That’s all right; I quite believe you, but it’s not our
business. [Behind the scene, TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA’S laughter is
heard, then a man’s. SHIPUCHIN glances at the door] She’s disturbing the
employees. [To MERCHUTKINA] It’s strange and it’s even silly. Surely
your husband knows where you ought to apply?
talking about your mamma and Katya, and I understand nothing; and I’ve
lost my place.
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 MERCHUTKINA] Excuse me, but what is this? I can’t
make head or tail of it.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. Are you in love? Aha! You’re blushing!
SHIPUCHIN. [To his wife] Tanya, dear, do go out into the public office for
a moment. I shan’t be long.
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. All right. [Goes out.]
SHIPUCHIN. I don’t understand anything of this. You’ve obviously come
to the wrong place, madam. Your petition doesn’t concern us at all. You
should go to the department in which your husband was employed.
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. We can’t do anything for you, Mrs. Merchutkina. You must
understand that your husband, so far as I can gather, was in the employ of
the Army Medical Department, while this is a private, commercial concern,
a bank. Don’t you understand that?
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, I can produce a doctor’s certificate of
my husband’s illness. Here it is, just look at it....
SHIPUCHIN. [Irritated] That’s all right; I quite believe you, but it’s not our
business. [Behind the scene, TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA’S laughter is
heard, then a man’s. SHIPUCHIN glances at the door] She’s disturbing the
employees. [To MERCHUTKINA] It’s strange and it’s even silly. Surely
your husband knows where you ought to apply?
Page 97
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, I don’t let him know anything. He just
cried out: “It isn’t your business! Get out of this!” And...
SHIPUCHIN. Madam, I repeat, your husband was in the employ of the
Army Medical Department, and this is a bank, a private, commercial
concern.
MERCHUTKINA. Yes, yes, yes.... I understand, my dear. In that case, your
excellency, just order them to pay me 15 roubles! I don’t mind taking that to
be going on with.
SHIPUCHIN. [Sighs] Ouf!
KHIRIN. Andrey Andreyevitch, I’ll never finish the report at this rate!
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....
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, have pity on me, an orphan! I’m a
weak, defenceless woman.... I’m tired to death.... I’m having trouble with
my lodgers, and on account of my husband, and I’ve got the house to look
after, and my son-in-law is out of work....
SHIPUCHIN. Mrs. Merchutkina, I... No, excuse me, I can’t talk to you! My
head’s even in a whirl.... You are disturbing us and making us waste our
time. [Sighs, aside] What a business, as my name’s Shipuchin! [To
KHIRIN] Kusma Nicolaievitch, will you please explain to Mrs.
Merchutkina. [Waves his hand and goes out into public department.]
KHIRIN. [Approaching MERCHUTKINA, angrily] What do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. I’m a weak, defenceless woman.... I may look all right,
but if you were to take me to pieces you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit
cried out: “It isn’t your business! Get out of this!” And...
SHIPUCHIN. Madam, I repeat, your husband was in the employ of the
Army Medical Department, and this is a bank, a private, commercial
concern.
MERCHUTKINA. Yes, yes, yes.... I understand, my dear. In that case, your
excellency, just order them to pay me 15 roubles! I don’t mind taking that to
be going on with.
SHIPUCHIN. [Sighs] Ouf!
KHIRIN. Andrey Andreyevitch, I’ll never finish the report at this rate!
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....
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, have pity on me, an orphan! I’m a
weak, defenceless woman.... I’m tired to death.... I’m having trouble with
my lodgers, and on account of my husband, and I’ve got the house to look
after, and my son-in-law is out of work....
SHIPUCHIN. Mrs. Merchutkina, I... No, excuse me, I can’t talk to you! My
head’s even in a whirl.... You are disturbing us and making us waste our
time. [Sighs, aside] What a business, as my name’s Shipuchin! [To
KHIRIN] Kusma Nicolaievitch, will you please explain to Mrs.
Merchutkina. [Waves his hand and goes out into public department.]
KHIRIN. [Approaching MERCHUTKINA, angrily] What do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. I’m a weak, defenceless woman.... I may look all right,
but if you were to take me to pieces you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit
Page 98
in me! I can hardly stand on my legs, and I’ve lost my appetite. I drank my
coffee to-day and got no pleasure out of it.
KHIRIN. I ask you, what do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Tell them, my dear, to give me 15 roubles, and a month
later will do for the rest.
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. Have you got a head on your shoulders, or what?
MERCHUTKINA. My dear, I’m asking for what’s mine by law. I don’t
want what isn’t mine.
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. [Surprised] And where’s the money?
KHIRIN. You haven’t a head, but this [Taps the table and then points to his
forehead.]
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. [Losing his temper] Get out of this!
MERCHUTKINA. No, no, no... none of that!
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!
coffee to-day and got no pleasure out of it.
KHIRIN. I ask you, what do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Tell them, my dear, to give me 15 roubles, and a month
later will do for the rest.
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. Have you got a head on your shoulders, or what?
MERCHUTKINA. My dear, I’m asking for what’s mine by law. I don’t
want what isn’t mine.
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. [Surprised] And where’s the money?
KHIRIN. You haven’t a head, but this [Taps the table and then points to his
forehead.]
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. [Losing his temper] Get out of this!
MERCHUTKINA. No, no, no... none of that!
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!
Page 99
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.
MERCHUTKINA. I don’t want anybody else’s money, but my own,
according to law. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Sitting in a
government office in felt boots....
[Enter SHIPUCHIN and TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA.]
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Following her husband] We spent the evening
at the Berezhnitskys. Katya was wearing a sky-blue frock of foulard silk,
cut low at the neck.... She looks very well with her hair done over her head,
and I did her hair myself.... She was perfectly fascinating....
SHIPUCHIN. [Who has had enough of it already] Yes, yes... fascinating....
They may be here any moment....
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency!
SHIPUCHIN. [Dully] What else? What do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency! [Points to KHIRIN] This man... this
man tapped the table with his finger, and then his head.... You told him to
look after my affair, but he insults me and says all sorts of things. I’m a
weak, defenceless woman....
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?
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.
MERCHUTKINA. I don’t want anybody else’s money, but my own,
according to law. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Sitting in a
government office in felt boots....
[Enter SHIPUCHIN and TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA.]
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Following her husband] We spent the evening
at the Berezhnitskys. Katya was wearing a sky-blue frock of foulard silk,
cut low at the neck.... She looks very well with her hair done over her head,
and I did her hair myself.... She was perfectly fascinating....
SHIPUCHIN. [Who has had enough of it already] Yes, yes... fascinating....
They may be here any moment....
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency!
SHIPUCHIN. [Dully] What else? What do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency! [Points to KHIRIN] This man... this
man tapped the table with his finger, and then his head.... You told him to
look after my affair, but he insults me and says all sorts of things. I’m a
weak, defenceless woman....
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?
Page 100
SHIPUCHIN. [Frightened] No, no! She’ll kick up a row and we aren’t the
only people in the building.
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency.
KHIRIN. [In a tearful voice] But I’ve got to finish my report! I won’t have
time! I won’t!
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, when shall I have the money? I want it
now.
SHIPUCHIN. [Aside, in dismay] A re-mark-ab-ly beastly woman!
[Politely] Madam, I’ve already told you, this is a bank, a private,
commercial concern.
MERCHUTKINA. Be a father to me, your excellency.... If the doctor’s
certificate isn’t enough, I can get you another from the police. Tell them to
give me the money!
SHIPUCHIN. [Panting] Ouf!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [To MERCHUTKINA] Mother, haven’t you
already been told that you’re disturbing them? What right have you?
MERCHUTKINA. Mother, beautiful one, nobody will help me. All I do is
to eat and drink, and just now I didn’t enjoy my coffee at all.
SHIPUCHIN. [Exhausted] How much do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. 24 roubles 36 copecks.
SHIPUCHIN. All right! [Takes a 25-rouble note out of his pocket-book and
gives it to her] Here are 25 roubles. Take it and... go!
[KHIRIN coughs angrily.]
MERCHUTKINA. I thank you very humbly, your excellency. [Hides the
money.]
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
only people in the building.
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency.
KHIRIN. [In a tearful voice] But I’ve got to finish my report! I won’t have
time! I won’t!
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, when shall I have the money? I want it
now.
SHIPUCHIN. [Aside, in dismay] A re-mark-ab-ly beastly woman!
[Politely] Madam, I’ve already told you, this is a bank, a private,
commercial concern.
MERCHUTKINA. Be a father to me, your excellency.... If the doctor’s
certificate isn’t enough, I can get you another from the police. Tell them to
give me the money!
SHIPUCHIN. [Panting] Ouf!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [To MERCHUTKINA] Mother, haven’t you
already been told that you’re disturbing them? What right have you?
MERCHUTKINA. Mother, beautiful one, nobody will help me. All I do is
to eat and drink, and just now I didn’t enjoy my coffee at all.
SHIPUCHIN. [Exhausted] How much do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. 24 roubles 36 copecks.
SHIPUCHIN. All right! [Takes a 25-rouble note out of his pocket-book and
gives it to her] Here are 25 roubles. Take it and... go!
[KHIRIN coughs angrily.]
MERCHUTKINA. I thank you very humbly, your excellency. [Hides the
money.]
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
Page 101
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. [Weeps] We ran to the summer-house, and
there... there poor Grendilevsky was lying... with a pistol in his hand....
SHIPUCHIN. No, I can’t stand this! I can’t stand it! [To MERCHUTKINA]
What else do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, can’t my husband go back to his job?
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....
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, can’t my husband go back to his job?
SHIPUCHIN. No, I can’t stand this! [Weeps] I can’t stand it! [Stretches out
both his hands in despair to KHIRIN] Drive her away! Drive her away, I
implore you!
KHIRIN. [Goes up to TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA] Get out of this!
SHIPUCHIN. Not her, but this one... this awful woman.... [Points] That
one!
KHIRIN. [Not understanding, to TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA] Get out of
this! [Stamps] Get out!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. What? What are you doing? Have you taken
leave of your senses?
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. [Weeps] We ran to the summer-house, and
there... there poor Grendilevsky was lying... with a pistol in his hand....
SHIPUCHIN. No, I can’t stand this! I can’t stand it! [To MERCHUTKINA]
What else do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, can’t my husband go back to his job?
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....
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, can’t my husband go back to his job?
SHIPUCHIN. No, I can’t stand this! [Weeps] I can’t stand it! [Stretches out
both his hands in despair to KHIRIN] Drive her away! Drive her away, I
implore you!
KHIRIN. [Goes up to TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA] Get out of this!
SHIPUCHIN. Not her, but this one... this awful woman.... [Points] That
one!
KHIRIN. [Not understanding, to TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA] Get out of
this! [Stamps] Get out!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. What? What are you doing? Have you taken
leave of your senses?
Page 102
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.]
SHIPUCHIN. [Chasing them] Stop! I implore you! Not such a noise? Have
pity on me!
KHIRIN. [Chasing MERCHUTKINA] Out of this! Catch her! Hit her! Cut
her into pieces!
SHIPUCHIN. [Shouts] Stop! I ask you! I implore you!
MERCHUTKINA. Little fathers... little fathers! [Screams] Little fathers!...
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!
[A deputation of five men enters; they all wear frockcoats. One carries the
velvet-covered address, another, the loving-cup. Employees look in at the
door, from the public department. TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA on the sofa,
and MERCHUTKINA in SHIPUCHIN’S arms are both groaning.]
ONE OF THE DEPUTATION. [Reads aloud] “Deeply respected and dear
Andrey Andreyevitch! Throwing a retrospective glance at the past history of
our financial administration, and reviewing in our minds its gradual
development, we receive an extremely satisfactory impression. It is true that
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.]
SHIPUCHIN. [Chasing them] Stop! I implore you! Not such a noise? Have
pity on me!
KHIRIN. [Chasing MERCHUTKINA] Out of this! Catch her! Hit her! Cut
her into pieces!
SHIPUCHIN. [Shouts] Stop! I ask you! I implore you!
MERCHUTKINA. Little fathers... little fathers! [Screams] Little fathers!...
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!
[A deputation of five men enters; they all wear frockcoats. One carries the
velvet-covered address, another, the loving-cup. Employees look in at the
door, from the public department. TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA on the sofa,
and MERCHUTKINA in SHIPUCHIN’S arms are both groaning.]
ONE OF THE DEPUTATION. [Reads aloud] “Deeply respected and dear
Andrey Andreyevitch! Throwing a retrospective glance at the past history of
our financial administration, and reviewing in our minds its gradual
development, we receive an extremely satisfactory impression. It is true that
Page 103
in the first period of its existence, the inconsiderable amount of its capital,
and the absence of serious operations of any description, and also the
indefinite aims of this bank, made us attach an extreme importance to the
question raised by Hamlet, ‘To be or not to be,’ and at one time there were
even voices to be heard demanding our liquidation. But at that moment you
become the head of our concern. Your knowledge, energies, and your native
tact were the causes of extraordinary success and widespread extension.
The reputation of the bank... [Coughs] reputation of the bank...”
MERCHUTKINA. [Groans] Oh! Oh!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Groans] Water! Water!
THE MEMBER OF THE DEPUTATION. [Continues] The reputation
[Coughs]... the reputation of the bank has been raised by you to such a
height that we are now the rivals of the best foreign concerns.
SHIPUCHIN. Deputation... reputation... occupation.... Two friends that had
a walk at night, held converse by the pale moonlight.... Oh tell me not, that
youth is vain, that jealousy has turned my brain.
THE MEMBER OF THE DEPUTATION. [Continues in confusion] “Then,
throwing an objective glance at the present condition of things, we, deeply
respected and dear Andrey Andreyevitch... [Lowering his voice] In that
case, we’ll do it later on.... Yes, later on....” [DEPUTATION goes out in
confusion.]
Curtain.
and the absence of serious operations of any description, and also the
indefinite aims of this bank, made us attach an extreme importance to the
question raised by Hamlet, ‘To be or not to be,’ and at one time there were
even voices to be heard demanding our liquidation. But at that moment you
become the head of our concern. Your knowledge, energies, and your native
tact were the causes of extraordinary success and widespread extension.
The reputation of the bank... [Coughs] reputation of the bank...”
MERCHUTKINA. [Groans] Oh! Oh!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Groans] Water! Water!
THE MEMBER OF THE DEPUTATION. [Continues] The reputation
[Coughs]... the reputation of the bank has been raised by you to such a
height that we are now the rivals of the best foreign concerns.
SHIPUCHIN. Deputation... reputation... occupation.... Two friends that had
a walk at night, held converse by the pale moonlight.... Oh tell me not, that
youth is vain, that jealousy has turned my brain.
THE MEMBER OF THE DEPUTATION. [Continues in confusion] “Then,
throwing an objective glance at the present condition of things, we, deeply
respected and dear Andrey Andreyevitch... [Lowering his voice] In that
case, we’ll do it later on.... Yes, later on....” [DEPUTATION goes out in
confusion.]
Curtain.
Page 104
THE THREE SISTERS
A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS
CHARACTERS
ANDREY SERGEYEVITCH PROSOROV
NATALIA IVANOVA (NATASHA), his fiancée, 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)
The action takes place in a provincial town.
[Ages are stated in brackets.]
A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS
CHARACTERS
ANDREY SERGEYEVITCH PROSOROV
NATALIA IVANOVA (NATASHA), his fiancée, 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)
The action takes place in a provincial town.
[Ages are stated in brackets.]
Page 105
ACT I
[In PROSOROV’S house. A sitting-room with pillars; behind is seen a large
dining-room. It is midday, the sun is shining brightly outside. In the dining-
room the table is being laid for lunch.]
[OLGA, in the regulation blue dress of a teacher at a girl’s high school, is
walking about correcting exercise books; MASHA, in a black dress, with a
hat on her knees, sits and reads a book; IRINA, in white, stands about, with
a thoughtful expression.]
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.
IRINA. Why think about it!
[BARON TUZENBACH, CHEBUTIKIN and SOLENI appear by the table
in the dining-room, behind the pillars.]
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.
CHEBUTIKIN. Will you take a bet on it?
[In PROSOROV’S house. A sitting-room with pillars; behind is seen a large
dining-room. It is midday, the sun is shining brightly outside. In the dining-
room the table is being laid for lunch.]
[OLGA, in the regulation blue dress of a teacher at a girl’s high school, is
walking about correcting exercise books; MASHA, in a black dress, with a
hat on her knees, sits and reads a book; IRINA, in white, stands about, with
a thoughtful expression.]
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.
IRINA. Why think about it!
[BARON TUZENBACH, CHEBUTIKIN and SOLENI appear by the table
in the dining-room, behind the pillars.]
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.
CHEBUTIKIN. Will you take a bet on it?
Page 106
TUZENBACH. Oh, nonsense.
[MASHA, lost in a reverie over her book, whistles softly.]
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...
IRINA. To go away to Moscow. To sell the house, drop everything here,
and go to Moscow...
OLGA. Yes! To Moscow, and as soon as possible.
[CHEBUTIKIN and TUZENBACH laugh.]
IRINA. I expect Andrey will become a professor, but still, he won’t want to
live here. Only poor Masha must go on living here.
OLGA. Masha can come to Moscow every year, for the whole summer.
[MASHA is whistling gently.]
IRINA. Everything will be arranged, please God. [Looks out of the
window] It’s nice out to-day. I don’t know why I’m so happy: I remembered
this morning that it was my name-day, and I suddenly felt glad and
remembered my childhood, when mother was still with us. What beautiful
thoughts I had, what thoughts!
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.
[MASHA, lost in a reverie over her book, whistles softly.]
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...
IRINA. To go away to Moscow. To sell the house, drop everything here,
and go to Moscow...
OLGA. Yes! To Moscow, and as soon as possible.
[CHEBUTIKIN and TUZENBACH laugh.]
IRINA. I expect Andrey will become a professor, but still, he won’t want to
live here. Only poor Masha must go on living here.
OLGA. Masha can come to Moscow every year, for the whole summer.
[MASHA is whistling gently.]
IRINA. Everything will be arranged, please God. [Looks out of the
window] It’s nice out to-day. I don’t know why I’m so happy: I remembered
this morning that it was my name-day, and I suddenly felt glad and
remembered my childhood, when mother was still with us. What beautiful
thoughts I had, what thoughts!
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.
Page 107
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.]
OLGA. That’s good. I’m glad.
IRINA. Is he old?
TUZENBACH. Oh, no. Forty or forty-five, at the very outside. [Plays
softly] He seems rather a good sort. He’s certainly no fool, only he likes to
hear himself speak.
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....
CHEBUTIKIN. [Reads a newspaper as he walks] If your hair is coming
out... take an ounce of naphthaline and hail a bottle of spirit... dissolve and
use daily.... [Makes a note in his pocket diary] When found make a note of!
Not that I want it though.... [Crosses it out] It doesn’t matter.
IRINA. Ivan Romanovitch, dear Ivan Romanovitch!
CHEBUTIKIN. What does my own little girl want?
IRINA. Ivan Romanovitch, dear Ivan Romanovitch! I feel as if I were
sailing under the broad blue sky with great white birds around me. Why is
that? Why?
[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.]
OLGA. That’s good. I’m glad.
IRINA. Is he old?
TUZENBACH. Oh, no. Forty or forty-five, at the very outside. [Plays
softly] He seems rather a good sort. He’s certainly no fool, only he likes to
hear himself speak.
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....
CHEBUTIKIN. [Reads a newspaper as he walks] If your hair is coming
out... take an ounce of naphthaline and hail a bottle of spirit... dissolve and
use daily.... [Makes a note in his pocket diary] When found make a note of!
Not that I want it though.... [Crosses it out] It doesn’t matter.
IRINA. Ivan Romanovitch, dear Ivan Romanovitch!
CHEBUTIKIN. What does my own little girl want?
IRINA. Ivan Romanovitch, dear Ivan Romanovitch! I feel as if I were
sailing under the broad blue sky with great white birds around me. Why is
that? Why?
Page 108
CHEBUTIKIN. [Kisses her hands, tenderly] My white bird....
IRINA. When I woke up to-day and got up and dressed myself, I suddenly
began to feel as if everything in this life was open to me, and that I knew
how I must live. Dear Ivan Romanovitch, I know everything. A man must
work, toil in the sweat of his brow, whoever he may be, for that is the
meaning and object of his life, his happiness, his enthusiasm. How fine it is
to be a workman who gets up at daybreak and breaks stones in the street, or
a shepherd, or a schoolmaster, who teaches children, or an engine-driver on
the railway.... My God, let alone a man, it’s better to be an ox, or just a
horse, so long as it can work, than a young woman who wakes up at twelve
o’clock, has her coffee in bed, and then spends two hours dressing.... Oh it’s
awful! Sometimes when it’s hot, your thirst can be just as tiresome as my
need for work. And if I don’t get up early in future and work, Ivan
Romanovitch, then you may refuse me your friendship.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Tenderly] I’ll refuse, I’ll refuse....
OLGA. Father used to make us get up at seven. Now Irina wakes at seven
and lies and meditates about something till nine at least. And she looks so
serious! [Laughs.]
IRINA. You’re so used to seeing me as a little girl that it seems queer to you
when my face is serious. I’m twenty!
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!
CHEBUTIKIN. I shan’t work.
IRINA. When I woke up to-day and got up and dressed myself, I suddenly
began to feel as if everything in this life was open to me, and that I knew
how I must live. Dear Ivan Romanovitch, I know everything. A man must
work, toil in the sweat of his brow, whoever he may be, for that is the
meaning and object of his life, his happiness, his enthusiasm. How fine it is
to be a workman who gets up at daybreak and breaks stones in the street, or
a shepherd, or a schoolmaster, who teaches children, or an engine-driver on
the railway.... My God, let alone a man, it’s better to be an ox, or just a
horse, so long as it can work, than a young woman who wakes up at twelve
o’clock, has her coffee in bed, and then spends two hours dressing.... Oh it’s
awful! Sometimes when it’s hot, your thirst can be just as tiresome as my
need for work. And if I don’t get up early in future and work, Ivan
Romanovitch, then you may refuse me your friendship.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Tenderly] I’ll refuse, I’ll refuse....
OLGA. Father used to make us get up at seven. Now Irina wakes at seven
and lies and meditates about something till nine at least. And she looks so
serious! [Laughs.]
IRINA. You’re so used to seeing me as a little girl that it seems queer to you
when my face is serious. I’m twenty!
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!
CHEBUTIKIN. I shan’t work.
Page 109
TUZENBACH. You don’t matter.
SOLENI. In twenty-five years’ time, we shall all be dead, thank the Lord. In
two or three years’ time apoplexy will carry you off, or else I’ll blow your
brains out, my pet. [Takes a scent-bottle out of his pocket and sprinkles his
chest and hands.]
CHEBUTIKIN. [Laughs] It’s quite true, I never have worked. After I came
down from the university I never stirred a finger or opened a book, I just
read the papers.... [Takes another newspaper out of his pocket] Here we
are.... I’ve learnt from the papers that there used to be one, Dobrolubov
[Note: Dobroluboy (1836-81), in spite of the shortness of his career,
established himself as one of the classic literary critics of Russia], for
instance, but what he wrote—I don’t know... God only knows.... [Somebody
is heard tapping on the floor from below] There.... They’re calling me
downstairs, somebody’s come to see me. I’ll be back in a minute... won’t be
long.... [Exit hurriedly, scratching his beard.]
IRINA. He’s up to something.
TUZENBACH. Yes, he looked so pleased as he went out that I’m pretty
certain he’ll bring you a present in a moment.
IRINA. How unpleasant!
OLGA. Yes, it’s awful. He’s always doing silly things.
MASHA.
“There stands a green oak by the sea.
And a chain of bright gold is around it...
And a chain of bright gold is around it....”
[Gets up and sings softly.]
OLGA. You’re not very bright to-day, Masha. [MASHA sings, putting on
her hat] Where are you off to?
MASHA. Home.
IRINA. That’s odd....
SOLENI. In twenty-five years’ time, we shall all be dead, thank the Lord. In
two or three years’ time apoplexy will carry you off, or else I’ll blow your
brains out, my pet. [Takes a scent-bottle out of his pocket and sprinkles his
chest and hands.]
CHEBUTIKIN. [Laughs] It’s quite true, I never have worked. After I came
down from the university I never stirred a finger or opened a book, I just
read the papers.... [Takes another newspaper out of his pocket] Here we
are.... I’ve learnt from the papers that there used to be one, Dobrolubov
[Note: Dobroluboy (1836-81), in spite of the shortness of his career,
established himself as one of the classic literary critics of Russia], for
instance, but what he wrote—I don’t know... God only knows.... [Somebody
is heard tapping on the floor from below] There.... They’re calling me
downstairs, somebody’s come to see me. I’ll be back in a minute... won’t be
long.... [Exit hurriedly, scratching his beard.]
IRINA. He’s up to something.
TUZENBACH. Yes, he looked so pleased as he went out that I’m pretty
certain he’ll bring you a present in a moment.
IRINA. How unpleasant!
OLGA. Yes, it’s awful. He’s always doing silly things.
MASHA.
“There stands a green oak by the sea.
And a chain of bright gold is around it...
And a chain of bright gold is around it....”
[Gets up and sings softly.]
OLGA. You’re not very bright to-day, Masha. [MASHA sings, putting on
her hat] Where are you off to?
MASHA. Home.
IRINA. That’s odd....
Page 110
TUZENBACH. On a name-day, too!
MASHA. It doesn’t matter. I’ll come in the evening. Good-bye, dear.
[Kisses MASHA] Many happy returns, though I’ve said it before. In the old
days when father was alive, every time we had a name-day, thirty or forty
officers used to come, and there was lots of noise and fun, and to-day
there’s only a man and a half, and it’s as quiet as a desert... I’m off... I’ve
got the hump to-day, and am not at all cheerful, so don’t you mind me.
[Laughs through her tears] We’ll have a talk later on, but good-bye for the
present, my dear; I’ll go somewhere.
IRINA. [Displeased] You are queer....
OLGA. [Crying] I understand you, Masha.
SOLENI. When a man talks philosophy, well, it is philosophy or at any rate
sophistry; but when a woman, or two women, talk philosophy—it’s all my
eye.
MASHA. What do you mean by that, you very awful man?
SOLENI. Oh, nothing. You came down on me before I could say... help!
[Pause.]
MASHA. [Angrily, to OLGA] Don’t cry!
[Enter ANFISA and FERAPONT with a cake.]
ANFISA. This way, my dear. Come in, your feet are clean. [To IRINA]
From the District Council, from Mihail Ivanitch Protopopov... a cake.
IRINA. Thank you. Please thank him. [Takes the cake.]
FERAPONT. What?
IRINA. [Louder] Please thank him.
OLGA. Give him a pie, nurse. Ferapont, go, she’ll give you a pie.
FERAPONT. What?
ANFISA. Come on, gran’fer, Ferapont Spiridonitch. Come on. [Exeunt.]
MASHA. It doesn’t matter. I’ll come in the evening. Good-bye, dear.
[Kisses MASHA] Many happy returns, though I’ve said it before. In the old
days when father was alive, every time we had a name-day, thirty or forty
officers used to come, and there was lots of noise and fun, and to-day
there’s only a man and a half, and it’s as quiet as a desert... I’m off... I’ve
got the hump to-day, and am not at all cheerful, so don’t you mind me.
[Laughs through her tears] We’ll have a talk later on, but good-bye for the
present, my dear; I’ll go somewhere.
IRINA. [Displeased] You are queer....
OLGA. [Crying] I understand you, Masha.
SOLENI. When a man talks philosophy, well, it is philosophy or at any rate
sophistry; but when a woman, or two women, talk philosophy—it’s all my
eye.
MASHA. What do you mean by that, you very awful man?
SOLENI. Oh, nothing. You came down on me before I could say... help!
[Pause.]
MASHA. [Angrily, to OLGA] Don’t cry!
[Enter ANFISA and FERAPONT with a cake.]
ANFISA. This way, my dear. Come in, your feet are clean. [To IRINA]
From the District Council, from Mihail Ivanitch Protopopov... a cake.
IRINA. Thank you. Please thank him. [Takes the cake.]
FERAPONT. What?
IRINA. [Louder] Please thank him.
OLGA. Give him a pie, nurse. Ferapont, go, she’ll give you a pie.
FERAPONT. What?
ANFISA. Come on, gran’fer, Ferapont Spiridonitch. Come on. [Exeunt.]
Page 111
MASHA. I don’t like this Mihail Potapitch or Ivanitch, Protopopov. We
oughtn’t to invite him here.
IRINA. I never asked him.
MASHA. That’s all right.
[Enter CHEBUTIKIN followed by a soldier with a silver samovar; there is
a rumble of dissatisfied surprise.]
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!
TUZENBACH. [Laughs] I told you so!
MASHA. Ivan Romanovitch, you are simply shameless!
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....
MASHA. But your presents are so expensive!
CHEBUTIKIN. [Angrily, through his tears] Expensive presents.... You
really, are!... [To the orderly] Take the samovar in there.... [Teasing]
Expensive presents!
[The orderly goes into the dining-room with the samovar.]
ANFISA. [Enters and crosses stage] My dear, there’s a strange Colonel
come! He’s taken off his coat already. Children, he’s coming here. Irina
darling, you’ll be a nice and polite little girl, won’t you.... Should have
lunched a long time ago.... Oh, Lord.... [Exit.]
TUZENBACH. It must be Vershinin. [Enter VERSHININ] Lieutenant-
Colonel Vershinin!
oughtn’t to invite him here.
IRINA. I never asked him.
MASHA. That’s all right.
[Enter CHEBUTIKIN followed by a soldier with a silver samovar; there is
a rumble of dissatisfied surprise.]
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!
TUZENBACH. [Laughs] I told you so!
MASHA. Ivan Romanovitch, you are simply shameless!
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....
MASHA. But your presents are so expensive!
CHEBUTIKIN. [Angrily, through his tears] Expensive presents.... You
really, are!... [To the orderly] Take the samovar in there.... [Teasing]
Expensive presents!
[The orderly goes into the dining-room with the samovar.]
ANFISA. [Enters and crosses stage] My dear, there’s a strange Colonel
come! He’s taken off his coat already. Children, he’s coming here. Irina
darling, you’ll be a nice and polite little girl, won’t you.... Should have
lunched a long time ago.... Oh, Lord.... [Exit.]
TUZENBACH. It must be Vershinin. [Enter VERSHININ] Lieutenant-
Colonel Vershinin!
Page 112
VERSHININ. [To MASHA and IRINA] I have the honour to introduce
myself, my name is Vershinin. I am very glad indeed to be able to come at
last. How you’ve grown! Oh! oh!
IRINA. Please sit down. We’re very glad you’ve come.
VERSHININ. [Gaily] I am glad, very glad! But there are three sisters,
surely. I remember—three little girls. I forget your faces, but your father,
Colonel Prosorov, used to have three little girls, I remember that perfectly, I
saw them with my own eyes. How time does fly! Oh, dear, how it flies!
TUZENBACH. Alexander Ignateyevitch comes from Moscow.
IRINA. From Moscow? Are you from Moscow?
VERSHININ. Yes, that’s so. Your father used to be in charge of a battery
there, and I was an officer in the same brigade. [To MASHA] I seem to
remember your face a little.
MASHA. I don’t remember you.
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....
OLGA. So you come from Moscow?
VERSHININ. Yes. I went to school in Moscow and began my service there;
I was there for a long time until at last I got my battery and moved over
here, as you see. I don’t really remember you, I only remember that there
used to be three sisters. I remember your father well; I have only to shut my
eyes to see him as he was. I used to come to your house in Moscow....
OLGA. I used to think I remembered everybody, but...
VERSHININ. My name is Alexander Ignateyevitch.
IRINA. Alexander Ignateyevitch, you’ve come from Moscow. That is really
quite a surprise!
myself, my name is Vershinin. I am very glad indeed to be able to come at
last. How you’ve grown! Oh! oh!
IRINA. Please sit down. We’re very glad you’ve come.
VERSHININ. [Gaily] I am glad, very glad! But there are three sisters,
surely. I remember—three little girls. I forget your faces, but your father,
Colonel Prosorov, used to have three little girls, I remember that perfectly, I
saw them with my own eyes. How time does fly! Oh, dear, how it flies!
TUZENBACH. Alexander Ignateyevitch comes from Moscow.
IRINA. From Moscow? Are you from Moscow?
VERSHININ. Yes, that’s so. Your father used to be in charge of a battery
there, and I was an officer in the same brigade. [To MASHA] I seem to
remember your face a little.
MASHA. I don’t remember you.
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....
OLGA. So you come from Moscow?
VERSHININ. Yes. I went to school in Moscow and began my service there;
I was there for a long time until at last I got my battery and moved over
here, as you see. I don’t really remember you, I only remember that there
used to be three sisters. I remember your father well; I have only to shut my
eyes to see him as he was. I used to come to your house in Moscow....
OLGA. I used to think I remembered everybody, but...
VERSHININ. My name is Alexander Ignateyevitch.
IRINA. Alexander Ignateyevitch, you’ve come from Moscow. That is really
quite a surprise!
Page 113
OLGA. We are going to live there, you see.
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.]
MASHA. We’ve unexpectedly met a fellow countryman. [Briskly] I
remember: Do you remember, Olga, they used to speak at home of a
“lovelorn Major.” You were only a Lieutenant then, and in love with
somebody, but for some reason they always called you a Major for fun.
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.
MASHA. It’s all right. And where did you live?
VERSHININ. Old Basmanni Road.
OLGA. Same as we.
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
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.]
MASHA. We’ve unexpectedly met a fellow countryman. [Briskly] I
remember: Do you remember, Olga, they used to speak at home of a
“lovelorn Major.” You were only a Lieutenant then, and in love with
somebody, but for some reason they always called you a Major for fun.
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.
MASHA. It’s all right. And where did you live?
VERSHININ. Old Basmanni Road.
OLGA. Same as we.
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
Page 114
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.
SOLENI. I know why. [All look at him] Because if it was near it wouldn’t
be far off, and if it’s far off, it can’t be near. [An awkward pause.]
TUZENBACH. Funny man.
OLGA. Now I know who you are. I remember.
VERSHININ. I used to know your mother.
CHEBUTIKIN. She was a good woman, rest her soul.
IRINA. Mother is buried in Moscow.
OLGA. At the Novo-Devichi Cemetery.
MASHA. Do you know, I’m beginning to forget her face. We’ll be
forgotten in just the same way.
VERSHININ. Yes, they’ll forget us. It’s our fate, it can’t be helped. A time
will come when everything that seems serious, significant, or very
important to us will be forgotten, or considered trivial. [Pause] And the
curious thing is that we can’t possibly find out what will come to be
regarded as great and important, and what will be feeble, or silly. Didn’t the
discoveries of Copernicus, or Columbus, say, seem unnecessary and
ludicrous at first, while wasn’t it thought that some rubbish written by a
fool, held all the truth? And it may so happen that our present existence,
with which we are so satisfied, will in time appear strange, inconvenient,
stupid, unclean, perhaps even sinful....
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.
odd that the railway station should be thirteen miles away.... Nobody knows
why.
SOLENI. I know why. [All look at him] Because if it was near it wouldn’t
be far off, and if it’s far off, it can’t be near. [An awkward pause.]
TUZENBACH. Funny man.
OLGA. Now I know who you are. I remember.
VERSHININ. I used to know your mother.
CHEBUTIKIN. She was a good woman, rest her soul.
IRINA. Mother is buried in Moscow.
OLGA. At the Novo-Devichi Cemetery.
MASHA. Do you know, I’m beginning to forget her face. We’ll be
forgotten in just the same way.
VERSHININ. Yes, they’ll forget us. It’s our fate, it can’t be helped. A time
will come when everything that seems serious, significant, or very
important to us will be forgotten, or considered trivial. [Pause] And the
curious thing is that we can’t possibly find out what will come to be
regarded as great and important, and what will be feeble, or silly. Didn’t the
discoveries of Copernicus, or Columbus, say, seem unnecessary and
ludicrous at first, while wasn’t it thought that some rubbish written by a
fool, held all the truth? And it may so happen that our present existence,
with which we are so satisfied, will in time appear strange, inconvenient,
stupid, unclean, perhaps even sinful....
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.
Page 115
TUZENBACH. Vassili Vassilevitch, kindly leave me alone. [Changes his
chair] You’re very dull, you know.
SOLENI. [Feebly] There, there, there.
TUZENBACH. [To VERSHININ] The sufferings we see to-day—there are
so many of them!—still indicate a certain moral improvement in society.
VERSHININ. Yes, yes, of course.
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. That’s Andrey playing—our brother.
IRINA. He’s the learned member of the family. I expect he will be a
professor some day. Father was a soldier, but his son chose an academic
career for himself.
MASHA. That was father’s wish.
OLGA. We ragged him to-day. We think he’s a little in love.
IRINA. To a local lady. She will probably come here to-day.
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.]
OLGA. My brother, Andrey Sergeyevitch.
VERSHININ. My name is Vershinin.
ANDREY. Mine is Prosorov. [Wipes his perspiring hands] You’ve come to
take charge of the battery?
OLGA. Just think, Alexander Ignateyevitch comes from Moscow.
chair] You’re very dull, you know.
SOLENI. [Feebly] There, there, there.
TUZENBACH. [To VERSHININ] The sufferings we see to-day—there are
so many of them!—still indicate a certain moral improvement in society.
VERSHININ. Yes, yes, of course.
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. That’s Andrey playing—our brother.
IRINA. He’s the learned member of the family. I expect he will be a
professor some day. Father was a soldier, but his son chose an academic
career for himself.
MASHA. That was father’s wish.
OLGA. We ragged him to-day. We think he’s a little in love.
IRINA. To a local lady. She will probably come here to-day.
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.]
OLGA. My brother, Andrey Sergeyevitch.
VERSHININ. My name is Vershinin.
ANDREY. Mine is Prosorov. [Wipes his perspiring hands] You’ve come to
take charge of the battery?
OLGA. Just think, Alexander Ignateyevitch comes from Moscow.
Page 116
ANDREY. That’s all right. Now my little sisters won’t give you any rest.
VERSHININ. I’ve already managed to bore your sisters.
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.]
MASHA. Come on, come on!
ANDREY. Please leave me alone.
MASHA. You are funny. Alexander Ignateyevitch used to be called the
lovelorn Major, but he never minded.
VERSHININ. Not the least.
MASHA. I’d like to call you the lovelorn fiddler!
IRINA. Or the lovelorn professor!
OLGA. He’s in love! little Andrey is in love!
IRINA. [Applauds] Bravo, Bravo! Encore! Little Andrey is in love.
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.]
ANDREY. That’s enough, quite enough.... [Wipes his face] I couldn’t sleep
all night and now I can’t quite find my feet, so to speak. I read until four
VERSHININ. I’ve already managed to bore your sisters.
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.]
MASHA. Come on, come on!
ANDREY. Please leave me alone.
MASHA. You are funny. Alexander Ignateyevitch used to be called the
lovelorn Major, but he never minded.
VERSHININ. Not the least.
MASHA. I’d like to call you the lovelorn fiddler!
IRINA. Or the lovelorn professor!
OLGA. He’s in love! little Andrey is in love!
IRINA. [Applauds] Bravo, Bravo! Encore! Little Andrey is in love.
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.]
ANDREY. That’s enough, quite enough.... [Wipes his face] I couldn’t sleep
all night and now I can’t quite find my feet, so to speak. I read until four
Page 117
o’clock, then tried to sleep, but nothing happened. I thought about one thing
and another, and then it dawned and the sun crawled into my bedroom. This
summer, while I’m here, I want to translate a book from the English....
VERSHININ. Do you read English?
ANDREY. Yes father, rest his soul, educated us almost violently. It may
seem funny and silly, but it’s nevertheless true, that after his death I began
to fill out and get rounder, as if my body had had some great pressure taken
off it. Thanks to father, my sisters and I know French, German, and English,
and Irina knows Italian as well. But we paid dearly for it all!
MASHA. A knowledge of three languages is an unnecessary luxury in this
town. It isn’t even a luxury but a sort of useless extra, like a sixth finger. We
know a lot too much.
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.
IRINA. [Sighs] Yes, all that ought to be written down.
[ANDREY has gone out quietly.]
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
and another, and then it dawned and the sun crawled into my bedroom. This
summer, while I’m here, I want to translate a book from the English....
VERSHININ. Do you read English?
ANDREY. Yes father, rest his soul, educated us almost violently. It may
seem funny and silly, but it’s nevertheless true, that after his death I began
to fill out and get rounder, as if my body had had some great pressure taken
off it. Thanks to father, my sisters and I know French, German, and English,
and Irina knows Italian as well. But we paid dearly for it all!
MASHA. A knowledge of three languages is an unnecessary luxury in this
town. It isn’t even a luxury but a sort of useless extra, like a sixth finger. We
know a lot too much.
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.
IRINA. [Sighs] Yes, all that ought to be written down.
[ANDREY has gone out quietly.]
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
Page 118
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!
TUZENBACH. Yes, we must work. You are probably thinking to yourself:
the German lets himself go. But I assure you I’m a Russian, I can’t even
speak German. My father belonged to the Orthodox Church.... [Pause.]
VERSHININ. [Walks about the stage] I often wonder: suppose we could
begin life over again, knowing what we were doing? Suppose we could use
one life, already ended, as a sort of rough draft for another? I think that
every one of us would try, more than anything else, not to repeat himself, at
the very least he would rearrange his manner of life, he would make sure of
rooms like these, with flowers and light... I have a wife and two daughters,
my wife’s health is delicate and so on and so on, and if I had to begin life all
over again I would not marry.... No, no!
[Enter KULIGIN in a regulation jacket.]
KULIGIN. [Going up to IRINA] Dear sister, allow me to congratulate you
on the day sacred to your good angel and to wish you, sincerely and from
the bottom of my heart, good health and all that one can wish for a girl of
your years. And then let me offer you this book as a present. [Gives it to
her] It is the history of our High School during the last fifty years, written
by myself. The book is worthless, and written because I had nothing to do,
but read it all the same. Good day, gentlemen! [To VERSHININ] My name
is Kuligin, I am a master of the local High School. [Note: He adds that he is
a Nadvorny Sovetnik (almost the same as a German Hofrat), an
undistinguished civilian title with no English equivalent.] [To IRINA] In
this book you will find a list of all those who have taken the full course at
our High School during these fifty years. Feci quod potui, faciant meliora
potentes. [Kisses MASHA.]
IRINA. But you gave me one of these at Easter.
KULIGIN. [Laughs] I couldn’t have, surely! You’d better give it back to me
in that case, or else give it to the Colonel. Take it, Colonel. You’ll read it
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!
TUZENBACH. Yes, we must work. You are probably thinking to yourself:
the German lets himself go. But I assure you I’m a Russian, I can’t even
speak German. My father belonged to the Orthodox Church.... [Pause.]
VERSHININ. [Walks about the stage] I often wonder: suppose we could
begin life over again, knowing what we were doing? Suppose we could use
one life, already ended, as a sort of rough draft for another? I think that
every one of us would try, more than anything else, not to repeat himself, at
the very least he would rearrange his manner of life, he would make sure of
rooms like these, with flowers and light... I have a wife and two daughters,
my wife’s health is delicate and so on and so on, and if I had to begin life all
over again I would not marry.... No, no!
[Enter KULIGIN in a regulation jacket.]
KULIGIN. [Going up to IRINA] Dear sister, allow me to congratulate you
on the day sacred to your good angel and to wish you, sincerely and from
the bottom of my heart, good health and all that one can wish for a girl of
your years. And then let me offer you this book as a present. [Gives it to
her] It is the history of our High School during the last fifty years, written
by myself. The book is worthless, and written because I had nothing to do,
but read it all the same. Good day, gentlemen! [To VERSHININ] My name
is Kuligin, I am a master of the local High School. [Note: He adds that he is
a Nadvorny Sovetnik (almost the same as a German Hofrat), an
undistinguished civilian title with no English equivalent.] [To IRINA] In
this book you will find a list of all those who have taken the full course at
our High School during these fifty years. Feci quod potui, faciant meliora
potentes. [Kisses MASHA.]
IRINA. But you gave me one of these at Easter.
KULIGIN. [Laughs] I couldn’t have, surely! You’d better give it back to me
in that case, or else give it to the Colonel. Take it, Colonel. You’ll read it
Page 119
some day when you’re bored.
VERSHININ. Thank you. [Prepares to go] I am extremely happy to have
made the acquaintance of...
OLGA. Must you go? No, not yet?
IRINA. You’ll stop and have lunch with us. Please do.
OLGA. Yes, please!
VERSHININ. [Bows] I seem to have dropped in on your name-day. Forgive
me, I didn’t know, and I didn’t offer you my congratulations. [Goes with
OLGA into the dining-room.]
KULIGIN. To-day is Sunday, the day of rest, so let us rest and rejoice, each
in a manner compatible with his age and disposition. The carpets will have
to be taken up for the summer and put away till the winter... Persian powder
or naphthaline.... The Romans were healthy because they knew both how to
work and how to rest, they had mens sana in corpore sano. Their life ran
along certain recognized patterns. Our director says: “The chief thing about
each life is its pattern. Whoever loses his pattern is lost himself”—and it’s
just the same in our daily life. [Takes MASHA by the waist, laughing]
Masha loves me. My wife loves me. And you ought to put the window
curtains away with the carpets.... I’m feeling awfully pleased with life to-
day. Masha, we’ve got to be at the director’s at four. They’re getting up a
walk for the pedagogues and their families.
MASHA. I shan’t go.
KULIGIN. [Hurt] My dear Masha, why not?
MASHA. I’ll tell you later.... [Angrily] All right, I’ll go, only please stand
back.... [Steps away.]
KULIGIN. And then we’re to spend the evening at the director’s. In spite of
his ill-health that man tries, above everything else, to be sociable. A
splendid, illuminating personality. A wonderful man. After yesterday’s
committee he said to me: “I’m tired, Feodor Ilitch, I’m tired!” [Looks at the
clock, then at his watch] Your clock is seven minutes fast. “Yes,” he said,
“I’m tired.” [Violin played off.]
VERSHININ. Thank you. [Prepares to go] I am extremely happy to have
made the acquaintance of...
OLGA. Must you go? No, not yet?
IRINA. You’ll stop and have lunch with us. Please do.
OLGA. Yes, please!
VERSHININ. [Bows] I seem to have dropped in on your name-day. Forgive
me, I didn’t know, and I didn’t offer you my congratulations. [Goes with
OLGA into the dining-room.]
KULIGIN. To-day is Sunday, the day of rest, so let us rest and rejoice, each
in a manner compatible with his age and disposition. The carpets will have
to be taken up for the summer and put away till the winter... Persian powder
or naphthaline.... The Romans were healthy because they knew both how to
work and how to rest, they had mens sana in corpore sano. Their life ran
along certain recognized patterns. Our director says: “The chief thing about
each life is its pattern. Whoever loses his pattern is lost himself”—and it’s
just the same in our daily life. [Takes MASHA by the waist, laughing]
Masha loves me. My wife loves me. And you ought to put the window
curtains away with the carpets.... I’m feeling awfully pleased with life to-
day. Masha, we’ve got to be at the director’s at four. They’re getting up a
walk for the pedagogues and their families.
MASHA. I shan’t go.
KULIGIN. [Hurt] My dear Masha, why not?
MASHA. I’ll tell you later.... [Angrily] All right, I’ll go, only please stand
back.... [Steps away.]
KULIGIN. And then we’re to spend the evening at the director’s. In spite of
his ill-health that man tries, above everything else, to be sociable. A
splendid, illuminating personality. A wonderful man. After yesterday’s
committee he said to me: “I’m tired, Feodor Ilitch, I’m tired!” [Looks at the
clock, then at his watch] Your clock is seven minutes fast. “Yes,” he said,
“I’m tired.” [Violin played off.]
Page 120
OLGA. Let’s go and have lunch! There’s to be a masterpiece of baking!
KULIGIN. Oh my dear Olga, my dear. Yesterday I was working till eleven
o’clock at night, and got awfully tired. To-day I’m quite happy. [Goes into
dining-room] My dear...
CHEBUTIKIN. [Puts his paper into his pocket, and combs his beard] A pie?
Splendid!
MASHA. [Severely to CHEBUTIKIN] Only mind; you’re not to drink
anything to-day. Do you hear? It’s bad for you.
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!
TUZENBACH. I shouldn’t go if I were you.... It’s quite simple.
CHEBUTIKIN. Don’t go.
MASHA. Yes, “don’t go....” It’s a cursed, unbearable life.... [Goes into
dining-room.]
CHEBUTIKIN. [Follows her] It’s not so bad.
SOLENI. [Going into the dining-room] There, there, there....
TUZENBACH. Vassili Vassilevitch, that’s enough. Be quiet!
SOLENI. There, there, there....
KULIGIN. [Gaily] Your health, Colonel! I’m a pedagogue and not quite at
home here. I’m Masha’s husband.... She’s a good sort, a very good sort.
VERSHININ. I’ll have some of this black vodka.... [Drinks] Your health!
[To OLGA] I’m very comfortable here!
[Only IRINA and TUZENBACH are now left in the sitting-room.]
KULIGIN. Oh my dear Olga, my dear. Yesterday I was working till eleven
o’clock at night, and got awfully tired. To-day I’m quite happy. [Goes into
dining-room] My dear...
CHEBUTIKIN. [Puts his paper into his pocket, and combs his beard] A pie?
Splendid!
MASHA. [Severely to CHEBUTIKIN] Only mind; you’re not to drink
anything to-day. Do you hear? It’s bad for you.
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!
TUZENBACH. I shouldn’t go if I were you.... It’s quite simple.
CHEBUTIKIN. Don’t go.
MASHA. Yes, “don’t go....” It’s a cursed, unbearable life.... [Goes into
dining-room.]
CHEBUTIKIN. [Follows her] It’s not so bad.
SOLENI. [Going into the dining-room] There, there, there....
TUZENBACH. Vassili Vassilevitch, that’s enough. Be quiet!
SOLENI. There, there, there....
KULIGIN. [Gaily] Your health, Colonel! I’m a pedagogue and not quite at
home here. I’m Masha’s husband.... She’s a good sort, a very good sort.
VERSHININ. I’ll have some of this black vodka.... [Drinks] Your health!
[To OLGA] I’m very comfortable here!
[Only IRINA and TUZENBACH are now left in the sitting-room.]
Page 121
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.
OLGA. [Impatiently] Andrey, when are you coming?
ANDREY. [Off] One minute. [Enters and goes to the table.]
TUZENBACH. What are you thinking about?
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....
IRINA. Nicolai Lvovitch, don’t speak to me of love.
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. They’re already at lunch... I’m late... [Carefully examines
herself in a mirror, and puts herself straight] I think my hair’s done all
right.... [Sees IRINA] Dear Irina Sergeyevna, I congratulate you! [Kisses
her firmly and at length] You’ve so many visitors, I’m really ashamed....
How do you do, Baron!
when he seemed to her the wisest of men. And now it’s different. He’s the
kindest man, but not the wisest.
OLGA. [Impatiently] Andrey, when are you coming?
ANDREY. [Off] One minute. [Enters and goes to the table.]
TUZENBACH. What are you thinking about?
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....
IRINA. Nicolai Lvovitch, don’t speak to me of love.
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. They’re already at lunch... I’m late... [Carefully examines
herself in a mirror, and puts herself straight] I think my hair’s done all
right.... [Sees IRINA] Dear Irina Sergeyevna, I congratulate you! [Kisses
her firmly and at length] You’ve so many visitors, I’m really ashamed....
How do you do, Baron!
Page 122
OLGA. [Enters from dining-room] Here’s Natalia Ivanovna. How are you,
dear! [They kiss.]
NATASHA. Happy returns. I’m awfully shy, you’ve so many people here.
OLGA. All our friends. [Frightened, in an undertone] You’re wearing a
green sash! My dear, you shouldn’t!
NATASHA. Is it a sign of anything?
OLGA. No, it simply doesn’t go well... and it looks so queer.
NATASHA. [In a tearful voice] Yes? But it isn’t really green, it’s too dull
for that. [Goes into dining-room with OLGA.]
[They have all sat down to lunch in the dining-room, the sitting-room is
empty.]
KULIGIN. I wish you a nice fiancée, Irina. It’s quite time you married.
CHEBUTIKIN. Natalia Ivanovna, I wish you the same.
KULIGIN. Natalia Ivanovna has a fiancé already.
MASHA. [Raps with her fork on a plate] Let’s all get drunk and make life
purple for once!
KULIGIN. You’ve lost three good conduct marks.
VERSHININ. This is a nice drink. What’s it made of?
SOLENI. Blackbeetles.
IRINA. [Tearfully] Phoo! How disgusting!
OLGA. There is to be a roast turkey and a sweet apple pie for dinner. Thank
goodness I can spend all day and the evening at home. You’ll come in the
evening, ladies and gentlemen....
VERSHININ. And please may I come in the evening!
IRINA. Please do.
dear! [They kiss.]
NATASHA. Happy returns. I’m awfully shy, you’ve so many people here.
OLGA. All our friends. [Frightened, in an undertone] You’re wearing a
green sash! My dear, you shouldn’t!
NATASHA. Is it a sign of anything?
OLGA. No, it simply doesn’t go well... and it looks so queer.
NATASHA. [In a tearful voice] Yes? But it isn’t really green, it’s too dull
for that. [Goes into dining-room with OLGA.]
[They have all sat down to lunch in the dining-room, the sitting-room is
empty.]
KULIGIN. I wish you a nice fiancée, Irina. It’s quite time you married.
CHEBUTIKIN. Natalia Ivanovna, I wish you the same.
KULIGIN. Natalia Ivanovna has a fiancé already.
MASHA. [Raps with her fork on a plate] Let’s all get drunk and make life
purple for once!
KULIGIN. You’ve lost three good conduct marks.
VERSHININ. This is a nice drink. What’s it made of?
SOLENI. Blackbeetles.
IRINA. [Tearfully] Phoo! How disgusting!
OLGA. There is to be a roast turkey and a sweet apple pie for dinner. Thank
goodness I can spend all day and the evening at home. You’ll come in the
evening, ladies and gentlemen....
VERSHININ. And please may I come in the evening!
IRINA. Please do.
Page 123
NATASHA. They don’t stand on ceremony here.
CHEBUTIKIN. Nature only brought us into the world that we should love!
[Laughs.]
ANDREY. [Angrily] Please don’t! Aren’t you tired of it?
[Enter FEDOTIK and RODE with a large basket of flowers.]
FEDOTIK. They’re lunching already.
RODE. [Loudly and thickly] Lunching? Yes, so they are....
FEDOTIK. Wait a minute! [Takes a photograph] That’s one. No, just a
moment.... [Takes another] That’s two. Now we’re ready!
[They take the basket and go into the dining-room, where they have a noisy
reception.]
RODE. [Loudly] Congratulations and best wishes! Lovely weather to-day,
simply perfect. Was out walking with the High School students all the
morning. I take their drills.
FEDOTIK. You may move, Irina Sergeyevna! [Takes a photograph] You
look well to-day. [Takes a humming-top out of his pocket] Here’s a
humming-top, by the way. It’s got a lovely note!
IRINA. How awfully nice!
MASHA.
“There stands a green oak by the sea,
And a chain of bright gold is around it...
And a chain of bright gold is around it...”
[Tearfully] What am I saying that for? I’ve had those words running in my
head all day....
KULIGIN. There are thirteen at table!
RODE. [Aloud] Surely you don’t believe in that superstition? [Laughter.]
CHEBUTIKIN. Nature only brought us into the world that we should love!
[Laughs.]
ANDREY. [Angrily] Please don’t! Aren’t you tired of it?
[Enter FEDOTIK and RODE with a large basket of flowers.]
FEDOTIK. They’re lunching already.
RODE. [Loudly and thickly] Lunching? Yes, so they are....
FEDOTIK. Wait a minute! [Takes a photograph] That’s one. No, just a
moment.... [Takes another] That’s two. Now we’re ready!
[They take the basket and go into the dining-room, where they have a noisy
reception.]
RODE. [Loudly] Congratulations and best wishes! Lovely weather to-day,
simply perfect. Was out walking with the High School students all the
morning. I take their drills.
FEDOTIK. You may move, Irina Sergeyevna! [Takes a photograph] You
look well to-day. [Takes a humming-top out of his pocket] Here’s a
humming-top, by the way. It’s got a lovely note!
IRINA. How awfully nice!
MASHA.
“There stands a green oak by the sea,
And a chain of bright gold is around it...
And a chain of bright gold is around it...”
[Tearfully] What am I saying that for? I’ve had those words running in my
head all day....
KULIGIN. There are thirteen at table!
RODE. [Aloud] Surely you don’t believe in that superstition? [Laughter.]
Page 124
KULIGIN. If there are thirteen at table then it means there are lovers
present. It isn’t you, Ivan Romanovitch, hang it all.... [Laughter.]
CHEBUTIKIN. I’m a hardened sinner, but I really don’t see why Natalia
Ivanovna should blush....
[Loud laughter; NATASHA runs out into the sitting-room, followed by
ANDREY.]
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.]
ANDREY. My dear, I beg you. I implore you not to excite yourself. I assure
you they’re only joking, they’re kind people. My dear, good girl, they’re all
kind and sincere people, and they like both you and me. Come here to the
window, they can’t see us here.... [Looks round.]
NATASHA. I’m so unaccustomed to meeting people!
ANDREY. Oh your youth, your splendid, beautiful youth! My darling,
don’t be so excited! Believe me, believe me... I’m so happy, my soul is full
of love, of ecstasy.... They don’t see us! They can’t! Why, why or when did
I fall in love with you—Oh, I can’t understand anything. My dear, my pure
darling, be my wife! I love you, love you... as never before.... [They kiss.]
[Two officers come in and, seeing the lovers kiss, stop in astonishment.]
Curtain.
present. It isn’t you, Ivan Romanovitch, hang it all.... [Laughter.]
CHEBUTIKIN. I’m a hardened sinner, but I really don’t see why Natalia
Ivanovna should blush....
[Loud laughter; NATASHA runs out into the sitting-room, followed by
ANDREY.]
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.]
ANDREY. My dear, I beg you. I implore you not to excite yourself. I assure
you they’re only joking, they’re kind people. My dear, good girl, they’re all
kind and sincere people, and they like both you and me. Come here to the
window, they can’t see us here.... [Looks round.]
NATASHA. I’m so unaccustomed to meeting people!
ANDREY. Oh your youth, your splendid, beautiful youth! My darling,
don’t be so excited! Believe me, believe me... I’m so happy, my soul is full
of love, of ecstasy.... They don’t see us! They can’t! Why, why or when did
I fall in love with you—Oh, I can’t understand anything. My dear, my pure
darling, be my wife! I love you, love you... as never before.... [They kiss.]
[Two officers come in and, seeing the lovers kiss, stop in astonishment.]
Curtain.
Page 125
ACT II
[Scene as before. It is 8 p.m. Somebody is heard playing a concertina
outside in’ the street. There is no fire. NATALIA IVANOVNA enters in
indoor dress carrying a candle; she stops by the door which leads into
ANDREY’S room.]
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. I was looking to see if there wasn’t a fire. It’s Shrovetide, and
the servant is simply beside herself; I must look out that something doesn’t
happen. When I came through the dining-room yesterday midnight, there
was a candle burning. I couldn’t get her to tell me who had lighted it. [Puts
down her candle] What’s the time?
ANDREY. [Looks at his watch] A quarter past eight.
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!
ANDREY. It’s all right, Natasha. The boy is well.
NATASHA. Still, I think we ought to put him on a diet. I am so afraid. And
the entertainers were to be here after nine; they had better not come,
Audrey.
ANDREY. I don’t know. After all, they were asked.
[Scene as before. It is 8 p.m. Somebody is heard playing a concertina
outside in’ the street. There is no fire. NATALIA IVANOVNA enters in
indoor dress carrying a candle; she stops by the door which leads into
ANDREY’S room.]
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. I was looking to see if there wasn’t a fire. It’s Shrovetide, and
the servant is simply beside herself; I must look out that something doesn’t
happen. When I came through the dining-room yesterday midnight, there
was a candle burning. I couldn’t get her to tell me who had lighted it. [Puts
down her candle] What’s the time?
ANDREY. [Looks at his watch] A quarter past eight.
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!
ANDREY. It’s all right, Natasha. The boy is well.
NATASHA. Still, I think we ought to put him on a diet. I am so afraid. And
the entertainers were to be here after nine; they had better not come,
Audrey.
ANDREY. I don’t know. After all, they were asked.
Page 126
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. [Hesitatingly] But what about my sisters. This is their flat.
NATASHA. They’ll do as I want them. They are so kind.... [Going] I
ordered sour milk for supper. The doctor says you must eat sour milk and
nothing else, or you won’t get thin. [Stops] Bobby is so cold. I’m afraid his
room is too cold for him. It would be nice to put him into another room till
the warm weather comes. Irina’s room, for instance, is just right for a child:
it’s dry and has the sun all day. I must tell her, she can share Olga’s room. It
isn’t as if she was at home in the daytime, she only sleeps here.... [A pause]
Andrey, darling, why are you so silent?
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.
ANDREY. [Yawns] Call him here.
[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. Good morning, grandfather. What have you to say?
FERAPONT. The Chairman sends a book and some documents or other.
Here.... [Hands him a book and a packet.]
ANDREY. Thank you. It’s all right. Why couldn’t you come earlier? It’s
past eight now.
FERAPONT. What?
ANDREY. [Louder]. I say you’ve come late, it’s past eight.
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. [Hesitatingly] But what about my sisters. This is their flat.
NATASHA. They’ll do as I want them. They are so kind.... [Going] I
ordered sour milk for supper. The doctor says you must eat sour milk and
nothing else, or you won’t get thin. [Stops] Bobby is so cold. I’m afraid his
room is too cold for him. It would be nice to put him into another room till
the warm weather comes. Irina’s room, for instance, is just right for a child:
it’s dry and has the sun all day. I must tell her, she can share Olga’s room. It
isn’t as if she was at home in the daytime, she only sleeps here.... [A pause]
Andrey, darling, why are you so silent?
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.
ANDREY. [Yawns] Call him here.
[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. Good morning, grandfather. What have you to say?
FERAPONT. The Chairman sends a book and some documents or other.
Here.... [Hands him a book and a packet.]
ANDREY. Thank you. It’s all right. Why couldn’t you come earlier? It’s
past eight now.
FERAPONT. What?
ANDREY. [Louder]. I say you’ve come late, it’s past eight.
Page 127
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?
ANDREY. Nothing. [Looks through the book] To-morrow’s Friday. I’m not
supposed to go to work, but I’ll come—all the same... and do some work.
It’s dull at home. [Pause] Oh, my dear old man, how strangely life changes,
and how it deceives! To-day, out of sheer boredom, I took up this book—
old university lectures, and I couldn’t help laughing. My God, I’m secretary
of the local district council, the council which has Protopopov for its
chairman, yes, I’m the secretary, and the summit of my ambitions is—to
become a member of the council! I to be a member of the local district
council, I, who dream every night that I’m a professor of Moscow
University, a famous scholar of whom all Russia is proud!
FERAPONT. I can’t tell... I’m hard of hearing....
ANDREY. If you weren’t, I don’t suppose I should talk to you. I’ve got to
talk to somebody, and my wife doesn’t understand me, and I’m a bit afraid
of my sisters—I don’t know why unless it is that they may make fun of me
and make me feel ashamed... I don’t drink, I don’t like public-houses, but
how I should like to be sitting just now in Tyestov’s place in Moscow, or at
the Great Moscow, old fellow!
FERAPONT. Moscow? That’s where a contractor was once telling that
some merchants or other were eating pancakes; one ate forty pancakes and
he went and died, he was saying. Either forty or fifty, I forget which.
ANDREY. In Moscow you can sit in an enormous restaurant where you
don’t know anybody and where nobody knows you, and you don’t feel all
the same that you’re a stranger. And here you know everybody and
everybody knows you, and you’re a stranger... and a lonely stranger.
FERAPONT. What? And the same contractor was telling—perhaps he was
lying—that there was a cable stretching right across Moscow.
ANDREY. What for?
FERAPONT. I can’t tell. The contractor said so.
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?
ANDREY. Nothing. [Looks through the book] To-morrow’s Friday. I’m not
supposed to go to work, but I’ll come—all the same... and do some work.
It’s dull at home. [Pause] Oh, my dear old man, how strangely life changes,
and how it deceives! To-day, out of sheer boredom, I took up this book—
old university lectures, and I couldn’t help laughing. My God, I’m secretary
of the local district council, the council which has Protopopov for its
chairman, yes, I’m the secretary, and the summit of my ambitions is—to
become a member of the council! I to be a member of the local district
council, I, who dream every night that I’m a professor of Moscow
University, a famous scholar of whom all Russia is proud!
FERAPONT. I can’t tell... I’m hard of hearing....
ANDREY. If you weren’t, I don’t suppose I should talk to you. I’ve got to
talk to somebody, and my wife doesn’t understand me, and I’m a bit afraid
of my sisters—I don’t know why unless it is that they may make fun of me
and make me feel ashamed... I don’t drink, I don’t like public-houses, but
how I should like to be sitting just now in Tyestov’s place in Moscow, or at
the Great Moscow, old fellow!
FERAPONT. Moscow? That’s where a contractor was once telling that
some merchants or other were eating pancakes; one ate forty pancakes and
he went and died, he was saying. Either forty or fifty, I forget which.
ANDREY. In Moscow you can sit in an enormous restaurant where you
don’t know anybody and where nobody knows you, and you don’t feel all
the same that you’re a stranger. And here you know everybody and
everybody knows you, and you’re a stranger... and a lonely stranger.
FERAPONT. What? And the same contractor was telling—perhaps he was
lying—that there was a cable stretching right across Moscow.
ANDREY. What for?
FERAPONT. I can’t tell. The contractor said so.
Page 128
ANDREY. Rubbish. [He reads] Were you ever in Moscow?
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.]
[Behind the scene the nurse is singing a lullaby to the child. MASHA and
VERSHININ come in. While they talk, a maidservant lights candles and a
lamp.]
MASHA. I don’t know. [Pause] I don’t know. Of course, habit counts for a
great deal. After father’s death, for instance, it took us a long time to get
used to the absence of orderlies. But, apart from habit, it seems to me in all
fairness that, however it may be in other towns, the best and most-educated
people are army men.
VERSHININ. I’m thirsty. I should like some tea.
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... yes.
MASHA. I don’t speak of my husband, I’ve grown used to him, but
civilians in general are so often coarse, impolite, uneducated. Their
rudeness offends me, it angers me. I suffer when I see that a man isn’t quite
sufficiently refined, or delicate, or polite. I simply suffer agonies when I
happen to be among schoolmasters, my husband’s colleagues.
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
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.]
[Behind the scene the nurse is singing a lullaby to the child. MASHA and
VERSHININ come in. While they talk, a maidservant lights candles and a
lamp.]
MASHA. I don’t know. [Pause] I don’t know. Of course, habit counts for a
great deal. After father’s death, for instance, it took us a long time to get
used to the absence of orderlies. But, apart from habit, it seems to me in all
fairness that, however it may be in other towns, the best and most-educated
people are army men.
VERSHININ. I’m thirsty. I should like some tea.
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... yes.
MASHA. I don’t speak of my husband, I’ve grown used to him, but
civilians in general are so often coarse, impolite, uneducated. Their
rudeness offends me, it angers me. I suffer when I see that a man isn’t quite
sufficiently refined, or delicate, or polite. I simply suffer agonies when I
happen to be among schoolmasters, my husband’s colleagues.
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
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thinking on an exalted plane, but, tell me, why do we aim so low in real
life? Why?
MASHA. Why?
VERSHININ. Why is a Russian sick of his children, sick of his wife? And
why are his wife and children sick of him?
MASHA. You’re a little downhearted to-day.
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.
VERSHININ. Are you superstitious?
MASHA. Yes.
VERSHININ. That’s strange. [Kisses her hand] You are a splendid,
wonderful woman. Splendid, wonderful! It is dark here, but I see your
sparkling eyes.
MASHA. [Sits on another chair] There is more light here.
VERSHININ. I love you, love you, love you... I love your eyes, your
movements, I dream of them.... Splendid, wonderful woman!
MASHA. [Laughing] When you talk to me like that, I laugh; I don’t know
why, for I’m afraid. Don’t repeat it, please.... [In an undertone] No, go on,
it’s all the same to me.... [Covers her face with her hands] Somebody’s
coming, let’s talk about something else.
[IRINA and TUZENBACH come in through the dining-room.]
life? Why?
MASHA. Why?
VERSHININ. Why is a Russian sick of his children, sick of his wife? And
why are his wife and children sick of him?
MASHA. You’re a little downhearted to-day.
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.
VERSHININ. Are you superstitious?
MASHA. Yes.
VERSHININ. That’s strange. [Kisses her hand] You are a splendid,
wonderful woman. Splendid, wonderful! It is dark here, but I see your
sparkling eyes.
MASHA. [Sits on another chair] There is more light here.
VERSHININ. I love you, love you, love you... I love your eyes, your
movements, I dream of them.... Splendid, wonderful woman!
MASHA. [Laughing] When you talk to me like that, I laugh; I don’t know
why, for I’m afraid. Don’t repeat it, please.... [In an undertone] No, go on,
it’s all the same to me.... [Covers her face with her hands] Somebody’s
coming, let’s talk about something else.
[IRINA and TUZENBACH come in through the dining-room.]
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TUZENBACH. My surname is really triple. I am called Baron Tuzenbach-
Krone-Altschauer, but I am Russian and Orthodox, the same as you. There
is very little German left in me, unless perhaps it is the patience and the
obstinacy with which I bore you. I see you home every night.
IRINA. How tired I am!
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.
IRINA. Well, I am home at last. [To MASHA] A lady came to-day to
telegraph to her brother in Saratov that her son died to-day, and she couldn’t
remember the address anyhow. So she sent the telegram without an address,
just to Saratov. She was crying. And for some reason or other I was rude to
her. “I’ve no time,” I said. It was so stupid. Are the entertainers coming to-
night?
MASHA. Yes.
IRINA. [Sitting down in an armchair] I want a rest. I am tired.
TUZENBACH. [Smiling] When you come home from your work you seem
so young, and so unfortunate.... [Pause.]
IRINA. I am tired. No, I don’t like the telegraph office, I don’t like it.
MASHA. You’ve grown thinner.... [Whistles a little] And you look younger,
and your face has become like a boy’s.
TUZENBACH. That’s the way she does her hair.
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.
MASHA. [With indifference] What can we do now?
Krone-Altschauer, but I am Russian and Orthodox, the same as you. There
is very little German left in me, unless perhaps it is the patience and the
obstinacy with which I bore you. I see you home every night.
IRINA. How tired I am!
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.
IRINA. Well, I am home at last. [To MASHA] A lady came to-day to
telegraph to her brother in Saratov that her son died to-day, and she couldn’t
remember the address anyhow. So she sent the telegram without an address,
just to Saratov. She was crying. And for some reason or other I was rude to
her. “I’ve no time,” I said. It was so stupid. Are the entertainers coming to-
night?
MASHA. Yes.
IRINA. [Sitting down in an armchair] I want a rest. I am tired.
TUZENBACH. [Smiling] When you come home from your work you seem
so young, and so unfortunate.... [Pause.]
IRINA. I am tired. No, I don’t like the telegraph office, I don’t like it.
MASHA. You’ve grown thinner.... [Whistles a little] And you look younger,
and your face has become like a boy’s.
TUZENBACH. That’s the way she does her hair.
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.
MASHA. [With indifference] What can we do now?
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IRINA. He lost money a fortnight ago, he lost money in December. Perhaps
if he lost everything we should go away from this town. Oh, my God, I
dream of Moscow every night. I’m just like a lunatic. [Laughs] We go there
in June, and before June there’s still... February, March, April, May... nearly
half a year!
MASHA. Only Natasha mustn’t get to know of these losses.
IRINA. I expect it will be all the same to her.
[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.]
MASHA. Here he is.... Has he paid his rent?
IRINA. [Laughs] No. He’s been here eight months and hasn’t paid a
copeck. Seems to have forgotten.
MASHA. [Laughs] What dignity in his pose! [They all laugh. A pause.]
IRINA. Why are you so silent, Alexander Ignateyevitch?
VERSHININ. I don’t know. I want some tea. Half my life for a tumbler of
tea: I haven’t had anything since morning.
CHEBUTIKIN. Irina Sergeyevna!
IRINA. What is it?
CHEBUTIKIN. Please come here, Venez ici. [IRINA goes and sits by the
table] I can’t do without you. [IRINA begins to play patience.]
VERSHININ. Well, if we can’t have any tea, let’s philosophize, at any rate.
TUZENBACH. Yes, let’s. About what?
VERSHININ. About what? Let us meditate... about life as it will be after
our time; for example, in two or three hundred years.
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
if he lost everything we should go away from this town. Oh, my God, I
dream of Moscow every night. I’m just like a lunatic. [Laughs] We go there
in June, and before June there’s still... February, March, April, May... nearly
half a year!
MASHA. Only Natasha mustn’t get to know of these losses.
IRINA. I expect it will be all the same to her.
[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.]
MASHA. Here he is.... Has he paid his rent?
IRINA. [Laughs] No. He’s been here eight months and hasn’t paid a
copeck. Seems to have forgotten.
MASHA. [Laughs] What dignity in his pose! [They all laugh. A pause.]
IRINA. Why are you so silent, Alexander Ignateyevitch?
VERSHININ. I don’t know. I want some tea. Half my life for a tumbler of
tea: I haven’t had anything since morning.
CHEBUTIKIN. Irina Sergeyevna!
IRINA. What is it?
CHEBUTIKIN. Please come here, Venez ici. [IRINA goes and sits by the
table] I can’t do without you. [IRINA begins to play patience.]
VERSHININ. Well, if we can’t have any tea, let’s philosophize, at any rate.
TUZENBACH. Yes, let’s. About what?
VERSHININ. About what? Let us meditate... about life as it will be after
our time; for example, in two or three hundred years.
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
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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.
VERSHININ. [Thoughtfully] How can I put it? It seems to me that
everything on earth must change, little by little, and is already changing
under our very eyes. After two or three hundred years, after a thousand—
the actual time doesn’t matter—a new and happy age will begin. We, of
course, shall not take part in it, but we live and work and even suffer to-day
that it should come. We create it—and in that one object is our destiny and,
if you like, our happiness.
[MASHA laughs softly.]
TUZENBACH. What is it?
MASHA. I don’t know. I’ve been laughing all day, ever since morning.
VERSHININ. I finished my education at the same point as you, I have not
studied at universities; I read a lot, but I cannot choose my books and
perhaps what I read is not at all what I should, but the longer I love, the
more I want to know. My hair is turning white, I am nearly an old man now,
but I know so little, oh, so little! But I think I know the things that matter
most, and that are most real. I know them well. And I wish I could make
you understand that there is no happiness for us, that there should not and
cannot be.... We must only work and work, and happiness is only for our
distant posterity. [Pause] If not for me, then for the descendants of my
descendants.
[FEDOTIK and RODE come into the dining-room; they sit and sing softly,
strumming on a guitar.]
TUZENBACH. According to you, one should not even think about
happiness! But suppose I am happy!
VERSHININ. No.
TUZENBACH. [Moves his hands and laughs] We do not seem to
understand each other. How can I convince you? [MASHA laughs quietly,
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.
VERSHININ. [Thoughtfully] How can I put it? It seems to me that
everything on earth must change, little by little, and is already changing
under our very eyes. After two or three hundred years, after a thousand—
the actual time doesn’t matter—a new and happy age will begin. We, of
course, shall not take part in it, but we live and work and even suffer to-day
that it should come. We create it—and in that one object is our destiny and,
if you like, our happiness.
[MASHA laughs softly.]
TUZENBACH. What is it?
MASHA. I don’t know. I’ve been laughing all day, ever since morning.
VERSHININ. I finished my education at the same point as you, I have not
studied at universities; I read a lot, but I cannot choose my books and
perhaps what I read is not at all what I should, but the longer I love, the
more I want to know. My hair is turning white, I am nearly an old man now,
but I know so little, oh, so little! But I think I know the things that matter
most, and that are most real. I know them well. And I wish I could make
you understand that there is no happiness for us, that there should not and
cannot be.... We must only work and work, and happiness is only for our
distant posterity. [Pause] If not for me, then for the descendants of my
descendants.
[FEDOTIK and RODE come into the dining-room; they sit and sing softly,
strumming on a guitar.]
TUZENBACH. According to you, one should not even think about
happiness! But suppose I am happy!
VERSHININ. No.
TUZENBACH. [Moves his hands and laughs] We do not seem to
understand each other. How can I convince you? [MASHA laughs quietly,
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TUZENBACH continues, pointing at her] Yes, laugh! [To VERSHININ]
Not only after two or three centuries, but in a million years, life will still be
as it was; life does not change, it remains for ever, following its own laws
which do not concern us, or which, at any rate, you will never find out.
Migrant birds, cranes for example, fly and fly, and whatever thoughts, high
or low, enter their heads, they will still fly and not know why or where.
They fly and will continue to fly, whatever philosophers come to life among
them; they may philosophize as much as they like, only they will fly....
MASHA. Still, is there a meaning?
TUZENBACH. A meaning.... Now the snow is falling. What meaning?
[Pause.]
MASHA. It seems to me that a man must have faith, or must search for a
faith, or his life will be empty, empty.... To live and not to know why the
cranes fly, why babies are born, why there are stars in the sky.... Either you
must know why you live, or everything is trivial, not worth a straw. [A
pause.]
VERSHININ. Still, I am sorry that my youth has gone.
MASHA. Gogol says: life in this world is a dull matter, my masters!
TUZENBACH. And I say it’s difficult to argue with you, my masters! Hang
it all.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Reading] Balzac was married at Berdichev. [IRINA is
singing softly] That’s worth making a note of. [He makes a note] Balzac
was married at Berdichev. [Goes on reading.]
IRINA. [Laying out cards, thoughtfully] Balzac was married at Berdichev.
TUZENBACH. The die is cast. I’ve handed in my resignation, Maria
Sergeyevna.
MASHA. So I heard. I don’t see what good it is; I don’t like civilians.
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
Not only after two or three centuries, but in a million years, life will still be
as it was; life does not change, it remains for ever, following its own laws
which do not concern us, or which, at any rate, you will never find out.
Migrant birds, cranes for example, fly and fly, and whatever thoughts, high
or low, enter their heads, they will still fly and not know why or where.
They fly and will continue to fly, whatever philosophers come to life among
them; they may philosophize as much as they like, only they will fly....
MASHA. Still, is there a meaning?
TUZENBACH. A meaning.... Now the snow is falling. What meaning?
[Pause.]
MASHA. It seems to me that a man must have faith, or must search for a
faith, or his life will be empty, empty.... To live and not to know why the
cranes fly, why babies are born, why there are stars in the sky.... Either you
must know why you live, or everything is trivial, not worth a straw. [A
pause.]
VERSHININ. Still, I am sorry that my youth has gone.
MASHA. Gogol says: life in this world is a dull matter, my masters!
TUZENBACH. And I say it’s difficult to argue with you, my masters! Hang
it all.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Reading] Balzac was married at Berdichev. [IRINA is
singing softly] That’s worth making a note of. [He makes a note] Balzac
was married at Berdichev. [Goes on reading.]
IRINA. [Laying out cards, thoughtfully] Balzac was married at Berdichev.
TUZENBACH. The die is cast. I’ve handed in my resignation, Maria
Sergeyevna.
MASHA. So I heard. I don’t see what good it is; I don’t like civilians.
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
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exhausted on my bed, and go to sleep at once. [Going into the dining-room]
Workmen, I suppose, do sleep soundly!
FEDOTIK. [To IRINA] I bought some coloured pencils for you at
Pizhikov’s in the Moscow Road, just now. And here is a little knife.
IRINA. You have got into the habit of behaving to me as if I am a little girl,
but I am grown up. [Takes the pencils and the knife, then, with joy] How
lovely!
FEDOTIK. And I bought myself a knife... look at it... one blade, another, a
third, an ear-scoop, scissors, nail-cleaners.
RODE. [Loudly] Doctor, how old are you?
CHEBUTIKIN. I? Thirty-two. [Laughter]
FEDOTIK. I’ll show you another kind of patience.... [Lays out cards.]
[A samovar is brought in; ANFISA attends to it; a little later NATASHA
enters and helps by the table; SOLENI arrives and, after greetings, sits by
the table.]
VERSHININ. What a wind!
MASHA. Yes. I’m tired of winter. I’ve already forgotten what summer’s
like.
IRINA. It’s coming out, I see. We’re going to Moscow.
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.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Reading paper] Tsitsigar. Smallpox is raging here.
ANFISA. [Coming up to MASHA] Masha, have some tea, little mother. [To
VERSHININ] Please have some, sir... excuse me, but I’ve forgotten your
name....
MASHA. Bring some here, nurse. I shan’t go over there.
IRINA. Nurse!
Workmen, I suppose, do sleep soundly!
FEDOTIK. [To IRINA] I bought some coloured pencils for you at
Pizhikov’s in the Moscow Road, just now. And here is a little knife.
IRINA. You have got into the habit of behaving to me as if I am a little girl,
but I am grown up. [Takes the pencils and the knife, then, with joy] How
lovely!
FEDOTIK. And I bought myself a knife... look at it... one blade, another, a
third, an ear-scoop, scissors, nail-cleaners.
RODE. [Loudly] Doctor, how old are you?
CHEBUTIKIN. I? Thirty-two. [Laughter]
FEDOTIK. I’ll show you another kind of patience.... [Lays out cards.]
[A samovar is brought in; ANFISA attends to it; a little later NATASHA
enters and helps by the table; SOLENI arrives and, after greetings, sits by
the table.]
VERSHININ. What a wind!
MASHA. Yes. I’m tired of winter. I’ve already forgotten what summer’s
like.
IRINA. It’s coming out, I see. We’re going to Moscow.
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.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Reading paper] Tsitsigar. Smallpox is raging here.
ANFISA. [Coming up to MASHA] Masha, have some tea, little mother. [To
VERSHININ] Please have some, sir... excuse me, but I’ve forgotten your
name....
MASHA. Bring some here, nurse. I shan’t go over there.
IRINA. Nurse!
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ANFISA. Coming, coming!
NATASHA. [To SOLENI] Children at the breast understand perfectly. I said
“Good morning, Bobby; good morning, dear!” And he looked at me in quite
an unusual way. You think it’s only the mother in me that is speaking; I
assure you that isn’t so! He’s a wonderful child.
SOLENI. If he was my child I’d roast him on a frying-pan and eat him.
[Takes his tumbler into the drawing-room and sits in a corner.]
NATASHA. [Covers her face in her hands] Vulgar, ill-bred man!
MASHA. He’s lucky who doesn’t notice whether it’s winter now, or
summer. I think that if I were in Moscow, I shouldn’t mind about the
weather.
VERSHININ. A few days ago I was reading the prison diary of a French
minister. He had been sentenced on account of the Panama scandal. With
what joy, what delight, he speaks of the birds he saw through the prison
windows, which he had never noticed while he was a minister. Now, of
course, that he is at liberty, he notices birds no more than he did before.
When you go to live in Moscow you’ll not notice it, in just the same way.
There can be no happiness for us, it only exists in our wishes.
TUZENBACH. [Takes cardboard box from the table] Where are the
pastries?
IRINA. Soleni has eaten them.
TUZENBACH. All of them?
ANFISA. [Serving tea] There’s a letter for you.
VERSHININ. For me? [Takes the letter] From my daughter. [Reads] Yes, of
course... I will go quietly. Excuse me, Maria Sergeyevna. I shan’t have any
tea. [Stands up, excited] That eternal story....
MASHA. What is it? Is it a secret?
VERSHININ. [Quietly] My wife has poisoned herself again. I must go. I’ll
go out quietly. It’s all awfully unpleasant. [Kisses MASHA’S hand] My
NATASHA. [To SOLENI] Children at the breast understand perfectly. I said
“Good morning, Bobby; good morning, dear!” And he looked at me in quite
an unusual way. You think it’s only the mother in me that is speaking; I
assure you that isn’t so! He’s a wonderful child.
SOLENI. If he was my child I’d roast him on a frying-pan and eat him.
[Takes his tumbler into the drawing-room and sits in a corner.]
NATASHA. [Covers her face in her hands] Vulgar, ill-bred man!
MASHA. He’s lucky who doesn’t notice whether it’s winter now, or
summer. I think that if I were in Moscow, I shouldn’t mind about the
weather.
VERSHININ. A few days ago I was reading the prison diary of a French
minister. He had been sentenced on account of the Panama scandal. With
what joy, what delight, he speaks of the birds he saw through the prison
windows, which he had never noticed while he was a minister. Now, of
course, that he is at liberty, he notices birds no more than he did before.
When you go to live in Moscow you’ll not notice it, in just the same way.
There can be no happiness for us, it only exists in our wishes.
TUZENBACH. [Takes cardboard box from the table] Where are the
pastries?
IRINA. Soleni has eaten them.
TUZENBACH. All of them?
ANFISA. [Serving tea] There’s a letter for you.
VERSHININ. For me? [Takes the letter] From my daughter. [Reads] Yes, of
course... I will go quietly. Excuse me, Maria Sergeyevna. I shan’t have any
tea. [Stands up, excited] That eternal story....
MASHA. What is it? Is it a secret?
VERSHININ. [Quietly] My wife has poisoned herself again. I must go. I’ll
go out quietly. It’s all awfully unpleasant. [Kisses MASHA’S hand] My
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dear, my splendid, good woman... I’ll go this way, quietly. [Exit.]
ANFISA. Where has he gone? And I’d served tea.... What a man.
MASHA. [Angrily] Be quiet! You bother so one can’t have a moment’s
peace.... [Goes to the table with her cup] I’m tired of you, old woman!
ANFISA. My dear! Why are you offended!
ANDREY’S VOICE. Anfisa!
ANFISA. [Mocking] Anfisa! He sits there and... [Exit.]
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!
IRINA. You are cross, Masha.
MASHA. If I am cross, then don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me!
CHEBUTIKIN. Don’t touch her, don’t touch her....
MASHA. You’re sixty, but you’re like a boy, always up to some beastly
nonsense.
NATASHA. [Sighs] Dear Masha, why use such expressions? With your
beautiful exterior you would be simply fascinating in good society, I tell
you so directly, if it wasn’t for your words. Je vous prie, pardonnez moi,
Marie, mais vous avez des manières un peu grossières.
TUZENBACH. [Restraining his laughter] Give me... give me... there’s
some cognac, I think.
NATASHA. Il parait, que mon Bobick déjà ne dort pas, he has awakened.
He isn’t well to-day. I’ll go to him, excuse me... [Exit.]
IRINA. Where has Alexander Ignateyevitch gone?
MASHA. Home. Something extraordinary has happened to his wife again.
TUZENBACH. [Goes to SOLENI with a cognac-flask in his hands] You go
on sitting by yourself, thinking of something—goodness knows what. Come
ANFISA. Where has he gone? And I’d served tea.... What a man.
MASHA. [Angrily] Be quiet! You bother so one can’t have a moment’s
peace.... [Goes to the table with her cup] I’m tired of you, old woman!
ANFISA. My dear! Why are you offended!
ANDREY’S VOICE. Anfisa!
ANFISA. [Mocking] Anfisa! He sits there and... [Exit.]
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!
IRINA. You are cross, Masha.
MASHA. If I am cross, then don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me!
CHEBUTIKIN. Don’t touch her, don’t touch her....
MASHA. You’re sixty, but you’re like a boy, always up to some beastly
nonsense.
NATASHA. [Sighs] Dear Masha, why use such expressions? With your
beautiful exterior you would be simply fascinating in good society, I tell
you so directly, if it wasn’t for your words. Je vous prie, pardonnez moi,
Marie, mais vous avez des manières un peu grossières.
TUZENBACH. [Restraining his laughter] Give me... give me... there’s
some cognac, I think.
NATASHA. Il parait, que mon Bobick déjà ne dort pas, he has awakened.
He isn’t well to-day. I’ll go to him, excuse me... [Exit.]
IRINA. Where has Alexander Ignateyevitch gone?
MASHA. Home. Something extraordinary has happened to his wife again.
TUZENBACH. [Goes to SOLENI with a cognac-flask in his hands] You go
on sitting by yourself, thinking of something—goodness knows what. Come
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and let’s make peace. Let’s have some cognac. [They drink] I expect I’ll
have to play the piano all night, some rubbish most likely... well, so be it!
SOLENI. Why make peace? I haven’t quarrelled with you.
TUZENBACH. You always make me feel as if something has taken place
between us. You’ve a strange character, you must admit.
SOLENI. [Declaims] “I am strange, but who is not? Don’t be angry,
Aleko!”
TUZENBACH. And what has Aleko to do with it? [Pause.]
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.
TUZENBACH. I often get angry with you, you always fasten on to me in
company, but I like you all the same. I’m going to drink my fill to-night,
whatever happens. Drink, now!
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.]
TUZENBACH. I’ve sent in my resignation. Basta! I’ve been thinking about
it for five years, and at last made up my mind. I shall work.
SOLENI. [Declaims] “Do not be angry, Aleko... forget, forget, thy dreams
of yore....”
[While he is speaking ANDREY enters quietly with a book, and sits by the
table.]
TUZENBACH. I shall work.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Going with IRINA into the dining-room] And the food
was also real Caucasian onion soup, and, for a roast, some chehartma.
have to play the piano all night, some rubbish most likely... well, so be it!
SOLENI. Why make peace? I haven’t quarrelled with you.
TUZENBACH. You always make me feel as if something has taken place
between us. You’ve a strange character, you must admit.
SOLENI. [Declaims] “I am strange, but who is not? Don’t be angry,
Aleko!”
TUZENBACH. And what has Aleko to do with it? [Pause.]
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.
TUZENBACH. I often get angry with you, you always fasten on to me in
company, but I like you all the same. I’m going to drink my fill to-night,
whatever happens. Drink, now!
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.]
TUZENBACH. I’ve sent in my resignation. Basta! I’ve been thinking about
it for five years, and at last made up my mind. I shall work.
SOLENI. [Declaims] “Do not be angry, Aleko... forget, forget, thy dreams
of yore....”
[While he is speaking ANDREY enters quietly with a book, and sits by the
table.]
TUZENBACH. I shall work.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Going with IRINA into the dining-room] And the food
was also real Caucasian onion soup, and, for a roast, some chehartma.
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SOLENI. Cheremsha [Note: A variety of garlic.] isn’t meat at all, but a
plant something like an onion.
CHEBUTIKIN. No, my angel. Chehartma isn’t onion, but roast mutton.
SOLENI. And I tell you, chehartma—is a sort of onion.
CHEBUTIKIN. And I tell you, chehartma—is mutton.
SOLENI. And I tell you, cheremsha—is a sort of onion.
CHEBUTIKIN. What’s the use of arguing! You’ve never been in the
Caucasus, and never ate any chehartma.
SOLENI. I never ate it, because I hate it. It smells like garlic.
ANDREY. [Imploring] Please, please! I ask you!
TUZENBACH. When are the entertainers coming?
IRINA. They promised for about nine; that is, quite soon.
TUZENBACH. [Embraces ANDREY]
“Oh my house, my house, my new-built house.”
ANDREY. [Dances and sings] “Newly-built of maple-wood.”
CHEBUTIKIN. [Dances]
“Its walls are like a sieve!” [Laughter.]
TUZENBACH. [Kisses ANDREY] Hang it all, let’s drink. Andrey, old boy,
let’s drink with you. And I’ll go with you, Andrey, to the University of
Moscow.
SOLENI. Which one? There are two universities in Moscow.
ANDREY. There’s one university in Moscow.
SOLENI. Two, I tell you.
ANDREY. Don’t care if there are three. So much the better.
plant something like an onion.
CHEBUTIKIN. No, my angel. Chehartma isn’t onion, but roast mutton.
SOLENI. And I tell you, chehartma—is a sort of onion.
CHEBUTIKIN. And I tell you, chehartma—is mutton.
SOLENI. And I tell you, cheremsha—is a sort of onion.
CHEBUTIKIN. What’s the use of arguing! You’ve never been in the
Caucasus, and never ate any chehartma.
SOLENI. I never ate it, because I hate it. It smells like garlic.
ANDREY. [Imploring] Please, please! I ask you!
TUZENBACH. When are the entertainers coming?
IRINA. They promised for about nine; that is, quite soon.
TUZENBACH. [Embraces ANDREY]
“Oh my house, my house, my new-built house.”
ANDREY. [Dances and sings] “Newly-built of maple-wood.”
CHEBUTIKIN. [Dances]
“Its walls are like a sieve!” [Laughter.]
TUZENBACH. [Kisses ANDREY] Hang it all, let’s drink. Andrey, old boy,
let’s drink with you. And I’ll go with you, Andrey, to the University of
Moscow.
SOLENI. Which one? There are two universities in Moscow.
ANDREY. There’s one university in Moscow.
SOLENI. Two, I tell you.
ANDREY. Don’t care if there are three. So much the better.
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SOLENI. There are two universities in Moscow! [There are murmurs and
“hushes”] There are two universities in Moscow, the old one and the new
one. And if you don’t like to listen, if my words annoy you, then I need not
speak. I can even go into another room.... [Exit.]
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!
[NATASHA comes in.]
NATASHA. [To CHEBUTIKIN] Ivan Romanovitch!
[Says something to CHEBUTIKIN, then goes out quietly; CHEBUTIKIN
touches TUZENBACH on the shoulder and whispers something to him.]
IRINA. What is it?
CHEBUTIKIN. Time for us to go. Good-bye.
TUZENBACH. Good-night. It’s time we went.
IRINA. But, really, the entertainers?
ANDREY. [In confusion] There won’t be any entertainers. You see, dear,
Natasha says that Bobby isn’t quite well, and so.... In a word, I don’t care,
and it’s absolutely all one to me.
IRINA. [Shrugging her shoulders] Bobby ill!
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!
[ANDREY goes to his room through the right-hand door, CHEBUTIKIN
follows him. In the dining-room they are saying good-bye.]
FEDOTIK. What a shame! I was expecting to spend the evening here, but
of course, if the little baby is ill... I’ll bring him some toys to-morrow.
“hushes”] There are two universities in Moscow, the old one and the new
one. And if you don’t like to listen, if my words annoy you, then I need not
speak. I can even go into another room.... [Exit.]
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!
[NATASHA comes in.]
NATASHA. [To CHEBUTIKIN] Ivan Romanovitch!
[Says something to CHEBUTIKIN, then goes out quietly; CHEBUTIKIN
touches TUZENBACH on the shoulder and whispers something to him.]
IRINA. What is it?
CHEBUTIKIN. Time for us to go. Good-bye.
TUZENBACH. Good-night. It’s time we went.
IRINA. But, really, the entertainers?
ANDREY. [In confusion] There won’t be any entertainers. You see, dear,
Natasha says that Bobby isn’t quite well, and so.... In a word, I don’t care,
and it’s absolutely all one to me.
IRINA. [Shrugging her shoulders] Bobby ill!
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!
[ANDREY goes to his room through the right-hand door, CHEBUTIKIN
follows him. In the dining-room they are saying good-bye.]
FEDOTIK. What a shame! I was expecting to spend the evening here, but
of course, if the little baby is ill... I’ll bring him some toys to-morrow.
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RODE. [Loudly] I slept late after dinner to-day because I thought I was
going to dance all night. It’s only nine o’clock now!
MASHA. Let’s go into the street, we can talk there. Then we can settle
things.
(Good-byes and good nights are heard. TUZENBACH’S merry laughter is
heard. [All go out] ANFISA and the maid clear the table, and put out the
lights. [The nurse sings] ANDREY, wearing an overcoat and a hat, and
CHEBUTIKIN enter silently.)
CHEBUTIKIN. I never managed to get married because my life flashed by
like lightning, and because I was madly in love with your mother, who was
married.
ANDREY. One shouldn’t marry. One shouldn’t, because it’s dull.
CHEBUTIKIN. So there I am, in my loneliness. Say what you will,
loneliness is a terrible thing, old fellow.... Though really... of course, it
absolutely doesn’t matter!
ANDREY. Let’s be quicker.
CHEBUTIKIN. What are you in such a hurry for? We shall be in time.
ANDREY. I’m afraid my wife may stop me.
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?
CHEBUTIKIN. Don’t ask me! I don’t remember, old fellow, I don’t know.
ANDREY. Let’s go through the kitchen. [They go out.]
[A bell rings, then a second time; voices and laughter are heard.]
IRINA. [Enters] What’s that?
ANFISA. [Whispers] The entertainers! [Bell.]
IRINA. Tell them there’s nobody at home, nurse. They must excuse us.
going to dance all night. It’s only nine o’clock now!
MASHA. Let’s go into the street, we can talk there. Then we can settle
things.
(Good-byes and good nights are heard. TUZENBACH’S merry laughter is
heard. [All go out] ANFISA and the maid clear the table, and put out the
lights. [The nurse sings] ANDREY, wearing an overcoat and a hat, and
CHEBUTIKIN enter silently.)
CHEBUTIKIN. I never managed to get married because my life flashed by
like lightning, and because I was madly in love with your mother, who was
married.
ANDREY. One shouldn’t marry. One shouldn’t, because it’s dull.
CHEBUTIKIN. So there I am, in my loneliness. Say what you will,
loneliness is a terrible thing, old fellow.... Though really... of course, it
absolutely doesn’t matter!
ANDREY. Let’s be quicker.
CHEBUTIKIN. What are you in such a hurry for? We shall be in time.
ANDREY. I’m afraid my wife may stop me.
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?
CHEBUTIKIN. Don’t ask me! I don’t remember, old fellow, I don’t know.
ANDREY. Let’s go through the kitchen. [They go out.]
[A bell rings, then a second time; voices and laughter are heard.]
IRINA. [Enters] What’s that?
ANFISA. [Whispers] The entertainers! [Bell.]
IRINA. Tell them there’s nobody at home, nurse. They must excuse us.
Page 141
[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?
IRINA. They’ve gone home.
SOLENI. How strange. Are you here alone?
IRINA. Yes, alone. [A pause] Good-bye.
SOLENI. Just now I behaved tactlessly, with insufficient reserve. But you
are not like all the others, you are noble and pure, you can see the truth....
You alone can understand me. I love you, deeply, beyond measure, I love
you.
IRINA. Good-bye! Go away.
SOLENI. I cannot live without you. [Follows her] Oh, my happiness!
[Through his tears] Oh, joy! Wonderful, marvellous, glorious eyes, such as I
have never seen before....
IRINA. [Coldly] Stop it, Vassili Vassilevitch!
SOLENI. This is the first time I speak to you of love, and it is as if I am no
longer on the earth, but on another planet. [Wipes his forehead] Well, never
mind. I can’t make you love me by force, of course... but I don’t intend to
have any more-favoured rivals.... No... I swear to you by all the saints, I
shall kill my rival.... Oh, beautiful one!
[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.
SOLENI. It’s all the same to me. Good-bye! [Exit.]
NATASHA. You’re so tired, my poor dear girl! [Kisses IRINA] If you only
went to bed earlier.
IRINA. Is Bobby asleep?
excited. SOLENI enters.]
SOLENI. [In surprise] There’s nobody here.... Where are they all?
IRINA. They’ve gone home.
SOLENI. How strange. Are you here alone?
IRINA. Yes, alone. [A pause] Good-bye.
SOLENI. Just now I behaved tactlessly, with insufficient reserve. But you
are not like all the others, you are noble and pure, you can see the truth....
You alone can understand me. I love you, deeply, beyond measure, I love
you.
IRINA. Good-bye! Go away.
SOLENI. I cannot live without you. [Follows her] Oh, my happiness!
[Through his tears] Oh, joy! Wonderful, marvellous, glorious eyes, such as I
have never seen before....
IRINA. [Coldly] Stop it, Vassili Vassilevitch!
SOLENI. This is the first time I speak to you of love, and it is as if I am no
longer on the earth, but on another planet. [Wipes his forehead] Well, never
mind. I can’t make you love me by force, of course... but I don’t intend to
have any more-favoured rivals.... No... I swear to you by all the saints, I
shall kill my rival.... Oh, beautiful one!
[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.
SOLENI. It’s all the same to me. Good-bye! [Exit.]
NATASHA. You’re so tired, my poor dear girl! [Kisses IRINA] If you only
went to bed earlier.
IRINA. Is Bobby asleep?
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NATASHA. Yes, but restlessly. By the way, dear, I wanted to tell you, but
either you weren’t at home, or I was busy... I think Bobby’s present nursery
is cold and damp. And your room would be so nice for the child. My dear,
darling girl, do change over to Olga’s for a bit!
IRINA. [Not understanding] Where?
[The bells of a troika are heard as it drives up to the house.]
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.
IRINA. They’ve all gone.
KULIGIN. Has Masha gone too? Where has she gone? And what’s
Protopopov waiting for downstairs in his troika? Whom is he expecting?
IRINA. Don’t ask questions... I’m tired.
KULIGIN. Oh, you’re all whimsies....
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....
either you weren’t at home, or I was busy... I think Bobby’s present nursery
is cold and damp. And your room would be so nice for the child. My dear,
darling girl, do change over to Olga’s for a bit!
IRINA. [Not understanding] Where?
[The bells of a troika are heard as it drives up to the house.]
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.
IRINA. They’ve all gone.
KULIGIN. Has Masha gone too? Where has she gone? And what’s
Protopopov waiting for downstairs in his troika? Whom is he expecting?
IRINA. Don’t ask questions... I’m tired.
KULIGIN. Oh, you’re all whimsies....
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....
Page 143
KULIGIN. Yes, my meeting tired me too. [Sits.]
VERSHININ. My wife took it into her head to frighten me just now by
nearly poisoning herself. It’s all right now, and I’m glad; I can rest now....
But perhaps we ought to go away? Well, my best wishes, Feodor Ilitch, let’s
go somewhere together! I can’t, I absolutely can’t stop at home.... Come on!
KULIGIN. I’m tired. I won’t go. [Gets up] I’m tired. Has my wife gone
home?
IRINA. I suppose so.
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....
VERSHININ. Then I’ll go somewhere by myself. [Exit with KULIGIN,
whistling.]
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.]
IRINA. [alone] They’ve all gone. Nobody’s left.
[A concertina is being played in the street. The nurse sings.]
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.]
IRINA. [Alone in her misery] To Moscow! Moscow! Moscow!
Curtain.
VERSHININ. My wife took it into her head to frighten me just now by
nearly poisoning herself. It’s all right now, and I’m glad; I can rest now....
But perhaps we ought to go away? Well, my best wishes, Feodor Ilitch, let’s
go somewhere together! I can’t, I absolutely can’t stop at home.... Come on!
KULIGIN. I’m tired. I won’t go. [Gets up] I’m tired. Has my wife gone
home?
IRINA. I suppose so.
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....
VERSHININ. Then I’ll go somewhere by myself. [Exit with KULIGIN,
whistling.]
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.]
IRINA. [alone] They’ve all gone. Nobody’s left.
[A concertina is being played in the street. The nurse sings.]
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.]
IRINA. [Alone in her misery] To Moscow! Moscow! Moscow!
Curtain.
Page 144
Page 145
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.
OLGA. Go on, go on....
FERAPONT. Yes’m. [Exit.]
[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.
OLGA. Go on, go on....
FERAPONT. Yes’m. [Exit.]
Page 146
OLGA. Nurse, dear, let them have everything. We don’t want anything.
Give it all to them, nurse.... I’m tired, I can hardly keep on my legs.... The
Vershinins mustn’t be allowed to go home.... The girls can sleep in the
drawing-room, and Alexander Ignateyevitch can go downstairs to the
Baron’s flat... Fedotik can go there, too, or else into our dining-room.... The
doctor is drunk, beastly drunk, as if on purpose, so nobody can go to him.
Vershinin’s wife, too, may go into the drawing-room.
ANFISA. [Tired] Olga, dear girl, don’t dismiss me! Don’t dismiss me!
OLGA. You’re talking nonsense, nurse. Nobody is dismissing you.
ANFISA. [Puts OLGA’S head against her bosom] My dear, precious girl,
I’m working, I’m toiling away... I’m growing weak, and they’ll all say go
away! And where shall I go? Where? I’m eighty. Eighty-one years old....
OLGA. You sit down, nurse dear.... You’re tired, poor dear.... [Makes her sit
down] Rest, dear. You’re so pale!
[NATASHA comes in.]
NATASHA. They are saying that a committee to assist the sufferers from
the fire must be formed at once. What do you think of that? It’s a beautiful
idea. Of course the poor ought to be helped, it’s the duty of the rich. Bobby
and little Sophy are sleeping, sleeping as if nothing at all was the matter.
There’s such a lot of people here, the place is full of them, wherever you go.
There’s influenza in the town now. I’m afraid the children may catch it.
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!
OLGA. [Confusedly] Excuse me, I don’t understand either...
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!
Give it all to them, nurse.... I’m tired, I can hardly keep on my legs.... The
Vershinins mustn’t be allowed to go home.... The girls can sleep in the
drawing-room, and Alexander Ignateyevitch can go downstairs to the
Baron’s flat... Fedotik can go there, too, or else into our dining-room.... The
doctor is drunk, beastly drunk, as if on purpose, so nobody can go to him.
Vershinin’s wife, too, may go into the drawing-room.
ANFISA. [Tired] Olga, dear girl, don’t dismiss me! Don’t dismiss me!
OLGA. You’re talking nonsense, nurse. Nobody is dismissing you.
ANFISA. [Puts OLGA’S head against her bosom] My dear, precious girl,
I’m working, I’m toiling away... I’m growing weak, and they’ll all say go
away! And where shall I go? Where? I’m eighty. Eighty-one years old....
OLGA. You sit down, nurse dear.... You’re tired, poor dear.... [Makes her sit
down] Rest, dear. You’re so pale!
[NATASHA comes in.]
NATASHA. They are saying that a committee to assist the sufferers from
the fire must be formed at once. What do you think of that? It’s a beautiful
idea. Of course the poor ought to be helped, it’s the duty of the rich. Bobby
and little Sophy are sleeping, sleeping as if nothing at all was the matter.
There’s such a lot of people here, the place is full of them, wherever you go.
There’s influenza in the town now. I’m afraid the children may catch it.
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!
OLGA. [Confusedly] Excuse me, I don’t understand either...
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!
Page 147
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 shan’t be head mistress.
NATASHA. They’ll appoint you, Olga. It’s settled.
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. [Excited] Forgive me, Olga, forgive me... I didn’t want to
annoy you.
[MASHA gets up, takes a pillow and goes out angrily.]
OLGA. Remember, dear... we have been brought up, in an unusual way,
perhaps, but I can’t bear this. Such behaviour has a bad effect on me, I get
ill... I simply lose heart!
NATASHA. Forgive me, forgive me.... [Kisses her.]
OLGA. Even the least bit of rudeness, the slightest impoliteness, upsets 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.
OLGA. She has been with us for thirty years.
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.
OLGA. And let her sit about.
NATASHA. [Surprised] What do you mean? She’s only a servant. [Crying]
I don’t understand you, Olga. I’ve got a nurse, a wet-nurse, we’ve a cook, a
housemaid... what do we want that old woman for as well? What good is
she? [Fire-alarm behind the stage.]
OLGA. I’ve grown ten years older to-night.
school I shall be so afraid of you.
OLGA. I shan’t be head mistress.
NATASHA. They’ll appoint you, Olga. It’s settled.
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. [Excited] Forgive me, Olga, forgive me... I didn’t want to
annoy you.
[MASHA gets up, takes a pillow and goes out angrily.]
OLGA. Remember, dear... we have been brought up, in an unusual way,
perhaps, but I can’t bear this. Such behaviour has a bad effect on me, I get
ill... I simply lose heart!
NATASHA. Forgive me, forgive me.... [Kisses her.]
OLGA. Even the least bit of rudeness, the slightest impoliteness, upsets 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.
OLGA. She has been with us for thirty years.
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.
OLGA. And let her sit about.
NATASHA. [Surprised] What do you mean? She’s only a servant. [Crying]
I don’t understand you, Olga. I’ve got a nurse, a wet-nurse, we’ve a cook, a
housemaid... what do we want that old woman for as well? What good is
she? [Fire-alarm behind the stage.]
OLGA. I’ve grown ten years older to-night.
Page 148
NATASHA. We must come to an agreement, Olga. Your place is the school,
mine—the home. You devote yourself to teaching, I, to the household. And
if I talk about servants, then I do know what I am talking about; I do know
what I am talking about... And to-morrow there’s to be no more of that old
thief, that old hag... [Stamping] that witch! And don’t you dare to annoy
me! Don’t you dare! [Stopping short] Really, if you don’t move downstairs,
we shall always be quarrelling. This is awful.
[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. What is it?
KULIGIN. The doctor, of course, has been drinking hard; he’s terribly
drunk. He might have done it on purpose! [Gets up] He seems to be coming
here.... Do you hear him? Yes, here.... [Laughs] What a man... really... I’ll
hide myself. [Goes to the cupboard and stands in the corner] What a rogue.
OLGA. He hadn’t touched a drop for two years, and now he suddenly goes
and gets drunk....
[Retires with NATASHA to the back of the room. CHEBUTIKIN enters;
apparently sober, he stops, looks round, then goes to the wash-stand and
begins to wash his hands.]
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
mine—the home. You devote yourself to teaching, I, to the household. And
if I talk about servants, then I do know what I am talking about; I do know
what I am talking about... And to-morrow there’s to be no more of that old
thief, that old hag... [Stamping] that witch! And don’t you dare to annoy
me! Don’t you dare! [Stopping short] Really, if you don’t move downstairs,
we shall always be quarrelling. This is awful.
[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. What is it?
KULIGIN. The doctor, of course, has been drinking hard; he’s terribly
drunk. He might have done it on purpose! [Gets up] He seems to be coming
here.... Do you hear him? Yes, here.... [Laughs] What a man... really... I’ll
hide myself. [Goes to the cupboard and stands in the corner] What a rogue.
OLGA. He hadn’t touched a drop for two years, and now he suddenly goes
and gets drunk....
[Retires with NATASHA to the back of the room. CHEBUTIKIN enters;
apparently sober, he stops, looks round, then goes to the wash-stand and
begins to wash his hands.]
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
Page 149
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....
[IRINA, VERSHININ and TUZENBACH enter; TUZENBACH is wearing
new and fashionable civilian clothes.]
IRINA. Let’s sit down here. Nobody will come in here.
VERSHININ. The whole town would have been destroyed if it hadn’t been
for the soldiers. Good men! [Rubs his hands appreciatively] Splendid
people! Oh, what a fine lot!
KULIGIN. [Coming up to him] What’s the time?
TUZENBACH. It’s past three now. It’s dawning.
IRINA. They are all sitting in the dining-room, nobody is going. And that
Soleni of yours is sitting there. [To CHEBUTIKIN] Hadn’t you better be
going to sleep, doctor?
CHEBUTIKIN. It’s all right... thank you.... [Combs his beard.]
KULIGIN. [Laughs] Speaking’s a bit difficult, eh, Ivan Romanovitch! [Pats
him on the shoulder] Good man! In vino veritas, the ancients used to say.
TUZENBACH. They keep on asking me to get up a concert in aid of the
sufferers.
IRINA. As if one could do anything....
TUZENBACH. It might be arranged, if necessary. In my opinion Maria
Sergeyevna is an excellent pianist.
KULIGIN. Yes, excellent!
IRINA. She’s forgotten everything. She hasn’t played for three years... or
four.
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....
[IRINA, VERSHININ and TUZENBACH enter; TUZENBACH is wearing
new and fashionable civilian clothes.]
IRINA. Let’s sit down here. Nobody will come in here.
VERSHININ. The whole town would have been destroyed if it hadn’t been
for the soldiers. Good men! [Rubs his hands appreciatively] Splendid
people! Oh, what a fine lot!
KULIGIN. [Coming up to him] What’s the time?
TUZENBACH. It’s past three now. It’s dawning.
IRINA. They are all sitting in the dining-room, nobody is going. And that
Soleni of yours is sitting there. [To CHEBUTIKIN] Hadn’t you better be
going to sleep, doctor?
CHEBUTIKIN. It’s all right... thank you.... [Combs his beard.]
KULIGIN. [Laughs] Speaking’s a bit difficult, eh, Ivan Romanovitch! [Pats
him on the shoulder] Good man! In vino veritas, the ancients used to say.
TUZENBACH. They keep on asking me to get up a concert in aid of the
sufferers.
IRINA. As if one could do anything....
TUZENBACH. It might be arranged, if necessary. In my opinion Maria
Sergeyevna is an excellent pianist.
KULIGIN. Yes, excellent!
IRINA. She’s forgotten everything. She hasn’t played for three years... or
four.
Page 150
TUZENBACH. In this town absolutely nobody understands music, not a
soul except myself, but I do understand it, and assure you on my word of
honour that Maria Sergeyevna plays excellently, almost with genius.
KULIGIN. You are right, Baron, I’m awfully fond of Masha. She’s very
fine.
TUZENBACH. To be able to play so admirably and to realize at the same
time that nobody, nobody can understand you!
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.
[CHEBUTIKIN takes a porcelain clock into his hands and examines it.]
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.
TUZENBACH. I heard so, too. Well, if it is so, the town will be quite
empty.
IRINA. And we’ll go away, too!
CHEBUTIKIN. [Drops the clock which breaks to pieces] To smithereens!
[A pause; everybody is pained and confused.]
KULIGIN. [Gathering up the pieces] To smash such a valuable object—oh,
Ivan Romanovitch, Ivan Romanovitch! A very bad mark for your
misbehaviour!
IRINA. That clock used to belong to our mother.
CHEBUTIKIN. Perhaps.... To your mother, your mother. Perhaps I didn’t
break it; it only looks as if I broke it. Perhaps we only think that we exist,
soul except myself, but I do understand it, and assure you on my word of
honour that Maria Sergeyevna plays excellently, almost with genius.
KULIGIN. You are right, Baron, I’m awfully fond of Masha. She’s very
fine.
TUZENBACH. To be able to play so admirably and to realize at the same
time that nobody, nobody can understand you!
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.
[CHEBUTIKIN takes a porcelain clock into his hands and examines it.]
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.
TUZENBACH. I heard so, too. Well, if it is so, the town will be quite
empty.
IRINA. And we’ll go away, too!
CHEBUTIKIN. [Drops the clock which breaks to pieces] To smithereens!
[A pause; everybody is pained and confused.]
KULIGIN. [Gathering up the pieces] To smash such a valuable object—oh,
Ivan Romanovitch, Ivan Romanovitch! A very bad mark for your
misbehaviour!
IRINA. That clock used to belong to our mother.
CHEBUTIKIN. Perhaps.... To your mother, your mother. Perhaps I didn’t
break it; it only looks as if I broke it. Perhaps we only think that we exist,
Page 151
when really we don’t. I don’t know anything, nobody knows anything. [At
the door] What are you looking at? Natasha has a little romance with
Protopopov, and you don’t see it.... There you sit and see nothing, and
Natasha has a little romance with Protopovov.... [Sings] Won’t you please
accept this date.... [Exit.]
VERSHININ. Yes. [Laughs] How strange everything really is! [Pause]
When the fire broke out, I hurried off home; when I get there I see the
house is whole, uninjured, and in no danger, but my two girls are standing
by the door in just their underclothes, their mother isn’t there, the crowd is
excited, horses and dogs are running about, and the girls’ faces are so
agitated, terrified, beseeching, and I don’t know what else. My heart was
pained when I saw those faces. My God, I thought, what these girls will
have to put up with if they live long! I caught them up and ran, and still
kept on thinking the one thing: what they will have to live through in this
world! [Fire-alarm; a pause] I come here and find their mother shouting and
angry. [MASHA enters with a pillow and sits on the sofa] And when my
girls were standing by the door in just their underclothes, and the street was
red from the fire, there was a dreadful noise, and I thought that something
of the sort used to happen many years ago when an enemy made a sudden
attack, and looted, and burned.... And at the same time what a difference
there really is between the present and the past! And when a little more time
has gone by, in two or three hundred years perhaps, people will look at our
present life with just the same fear, and the same contempt, and the whole
past will seem clumsy and dull, and very uncomfortable, and strange. Oh,
indeed, what a life there will be, what a life! [Laughs] Forgive me, I’ve
dropped into philosophy again. Please let me continue. I do awfully want to
philosophize, it’s just how I feel at present. [Pause] As if they are all asleep.
As I was saying: what a life there will be! Only just imagine.... There are
only three persons like yourselves in the town just now, but in future
generations there will be more and more, and still more, and the time will
come when everything will change and become as you would have it,
people will live as you do, and then you too will go out of date; people will
be born who are better than you.... [Laughs] Yes, to-day I am quite
exceptionally in the vein. I am devilishly keen on living.... [Sings.]
“The power of love all ages know,
From its assaults great good does grow.” [Laughs.]
the door] What are you looking at? Natasha has a little romance with
Protopopov, and you don’t see it.... There you sit and see nothing, and
Natasha has a little romance with Protopovov.... [Sings] Won’t you please
accept this date.... [Exit.]
VERSHININ. Yes. [Laughs] How strange everything really is! [Pause]
When the fire broke out, I hurried off home; when I get there I see the
house is whole, uninjured, and in no danger, but my two girls are standing
by the door in just their underclothes, their mother isn’t there, the crowd is
excited, horses and dogs are running about, and the girls’ faces are so
agitated, terrified, beseeching, and I don’t know what else. My heart was
pained when I saw those faces. My God, I thought, what these girls will
have to put up with if they live long! I caught them up and ran, and still
kept on thinking the one thing: what they will have to live through in this
world! [Fire-alarm; a pause] I come here and find their mother shouting and
angry. [MASHA enters with a pillow and sits on the sofa] And when my
girls were standing by the door in just their underclothes, and the street was
red from the fire, there was a dreadful noise, and I thought that something
of the sort used to happen many years ago when an enemy made a sudden
attack, and looted, and burned.... And at the same time what a difference
there really is between the present and the past! And when a little more time
has gone by, in two or three hundred years perhaps, people will look at our
present life with just the same fear, and the same contempt, and the whole
past will seem clumsy and dull, and very uncomfortable, and strange. Oh,
indeed, what a life there will be, what a life! [Laughs] Forgive me, I’ve
dropped into philosophy again. Please let me continue. I do awfully want to
philosophize, it’s just how I feel at present. [Pause] As if they are all asleep.
As I was saying: what a life there will be! Only just imagine.... There are
only three persons like yourselves in the town just now, but in future
generations there will be more and more, and still more, and the time will
come when everything will change and become as you would have it,
people will live as you do, and then you too will go out of date; people will
be born who are better than you.... [Laughs] Yes, to-day I am quite
exceptionally in the vein. I am devilishly keen on living.... [Sings.]
“The power of love all ages know,
From its assaults great good does grow.” [Laughs.]
Page 152
MASHA. Trum-tum-tum...
VERSHININ. Tum-tum...
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.]
IRINA. I don’t see anything funny about it. Is everything burnt?
FEDOTIK. [Laughs] Absolutely. Nothing left at all. The guitar’s burnt, and
the photographs are burnt, and all my correspondence.... And I was going to
make you a present of a note-book, and that’s burnt too.
[SOLENI comes in.]
IRINA. No, you can’t come here, Vassili Vassilevitch. Please go away.
SOLENI. Why can the Baron come here and I can’t?
VERSHININ. We really must go. How’s the fire?
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.
VERSHININ. [Laughs to SOLENI] Let’s go into the dining-room.
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!
VERSHININ. Tum-tum...
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.]
IRINA. I don’t see anything funny about it. Is everything burnt?
FEDOTIK. [Laughs] Absolutely. Nothing left at all. The guitar’s burnt, and
the photographs are burnt, and all my correspondence.... And I was going to
make you a present of a note-book, and that’s burnt too.
[SOLENI comes in.]
IRINA. No, you can’t come here, Vassili Vassilevitch. Please go away.
SOLENI. Why can the Baron come here and I can’t?
VERSHININ. We really must go. How’s the fire?
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.
VERSHININ. [Laughs to SOLENI] Let’s go into the dining-room.
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!
Page 153
TUZENBACH. [Waking] I am tired, I must say.... The brickworks.... No,
I’m not wandering, I mean it; I’m going to start work soon at the
brickworks... I’ve already talked it over. [Tenderly, to IRINA] You’re so
pale, and beautiful, and charming.... Your paleness seems to shine through
the dark air as if it was a light.... You are sad, displeased with life.... Oh,
come with me, let’s go and work together!
MASHA. Nicolai Lvovitch, go away from here.
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!
MASHA. Nicolai Lvovitch, go away! What business...
TUZENBACH. I’m off. [Exit.]
MASHA. [Lies down] Are you asleep, Feodor?
KULIGIN. Eh?
MASHA. Shouldn’t you go home.
KULIGIN. My dear Masha, my darling Masha....
IRINA. She’s tired out. You might let her rest, Fedia.
KULIGIN. I’ll go at once. My wife’s a good, splendid... I love you, my only
one....
MASHA. [Angrily] Amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, amant.
KULIGIN. [Laughs] No, she really is wonderful. I’ve been your husband
seven years, and it seems as if I was only married yesterday. On my word.
No, you really are a wonderful woman. I’m satisfied, I’m satisfied, I’m
satisfied!
I’m not wandering, I mean it; I’m going to start work soon at the
brickworks... I’ve already talked it over. [Tenderly, to IRINA] You’re so
pale, and beautiful, and charming.... Your paleness seems to shine through
the dark air as if it was a light.... You are sad, displeased with life.... Oh,
come with me, let’s go and work together!
MASHA. Nicolai Lvovitch, go away from here.
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!
MASHA. Nicolai Lvovitch, go away! What business...
TUZENBACH. I’m off. [Exit.]
MASHA. [Lies down] Are you asleep, Feodor?
KULIGIN. Eh?
MASHA. Shouldn’t you go home.
KULIGIN. My dear Masha, my darling Masha....
IRINA. She’s tired out. You might let her rest, Fedia.
KULIGIN. I’ll go at once. My wife’s a good, splendid... I love you, my only
one....
MASHA. [Angrily] Amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, amant.
KULIGIN. [Laughs] No, she really is wonderful. I’ve been your husband
seven years, and it seems as if I was only married yesterday. On my word.
No, you really are a wonderful woman. I’m satisfied, I’m satisfied, I’m
satisfied!
Page 154
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.
MASHA. It’s disgraceful, anyway. [Lies down]
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.
MASHA. I don’t want anything, but the unfairness of it disgusts me.
[Pause] You go, Feodor.
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. [Alarmed] What is it, what is it? Dear!
IRINA. [Sobbing] Where? Where has everything gone? Where is it all? Oh
my God, my God! I’ve forgotten everything, everything... I don’t remember
what is the Italian for window or, well, for ceiling... I forget everything,
every day I forget it, and life passes and will never return, and we’ll never
go away to Moscow... I see that we’ll never go....
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.
MASHA. It’s disgraceful, anyway. [Lies down]
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.
MASHA. I don’t want anything, but the unfairness of it disgusts me.
[Pause] You go, Feodor.
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. [Alarmed] What is it, what is it? Dear!
IRINA. [Sobbing] Where? Where has everything gone? Where is it all? Oh
my God, my God! I’ve forgotten everything, everything... I don’t remember
what is the Italian for window or, well, for ceiling... I forget everything,
every day I forget it, and life passes and will never return, and we’ll never
go away to Moscow... I see that we’ll never go....
Page 155
OLGA. Dear, dear....
IRINA. [Controlling herself] Oh, I am unhappy... I can’t work, I shan’t
work. Enough, enough! I used to be a telegraphist, now I work at the town
council offices, and I have nothing but hate and contempt for all they give
me to do... I am already twenty-three, I have already been at work for a long
while, and my brain has dried up, and I’ve grown thinner, plainer, older, and
there is no relief of any sort, and time goes and it seems all the while as if I
am going away from the real, the beautiful life, farther and farther away,
down some precipice. I’m in despair and I can’t understand how it is that I
am still alive, that I haven’t killed myself.
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!
OLGA. Dear, I tell you as a sister and a friend if you want my advice, marry
the Baron. [IRINA cries softly] You respect him, you think highly of him....
It is true that he is not handsome, but he is so honourable and clean... people
don’t marry from love, but in order to do one’s duty. I think so, at any rate,
and I’d marry without being in love. Whoever he was, I should marry him,
so long as he was a decent man. Even if he was old....
IRINA. I was always waiting until we should be settled in Moscow, there I
should meet my true love; I used to think about him, and love him.... But
it’s all turned out to be nonsense, all nonsense....
OLGA. [Embraces her sister] My dear, beautiful sister, I understand
everything; when Baron Nicolai Lvovitch left the army and came to us in
evening dress, [Note: I.e. in the correct dress for making a proposal of
marriage.] he seemed so bad-looking to me that I even started crying.... He
asked, “What are you crying for?” How could I tell him! But if God brought
him to marry you, I should be happy. That would be different, quite
different.
[NATASHA with a candle walks across the stage from right to left without
saying anything.]
MASHA. [Sitting up] She walks as if she’s set something on fire.
IRINA. [Controlling herself] Oh, I am unhappy... I can’t work, I shan’t
work. Enough, enough! I used to be a telegraphist, now I work at the town
council offices, and I have nothing but hate and contempt for all they give
me to do... I am already twenty-three, I have already been at work for a long
while, and my brain has dried up, and I’ve grown thinner, plainer, older, and
there is no relief of any sort, and time goes and it seems all the while as if I
am going away from the real, the beautiful life, farther and farther away,
down some precipice. I’m in despair and I can’t understand how it is that I
am still alive, that I haven’t killed myself.
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!
OLGA. Dear, I tell you as a sister and a friend if you want my advice, marry
the Baron. [IRINA cries softly] You respect him, you think highly of him....
It is true that he is not handsome, but he is so honourable and clean... people
don’t marry from love, but in order to do one’s duty. I think so, at any rate,
and I’d marry without being in love. Whoever he was, I should marry him,
so long as he was a decent man. Even if he was old....
IRINA. I was always waiting until we should be settled in Moscow, there I
should meet my true love; I used to think about him, and love him.... But
it’s all turned out to be nonsense, all nonsense....
OLGA. [Embraces her sister] My dear, beautiful sister, I understand
everything; when Baron Nicolai Lvovitch left the army and came to us in
evening dress, [Note: I.e. in the correct dress for making a proposal of
marriage.] he seemed so bad-looking to me that I even started crying.... He
asked, “What are you crying for?” How could I tell him! But if God brought
him to marry you, I should be happy. That would be different, quite
different.
[NATASHA with a candle walks across the stage from right to left without
saying anything.]
MASHA. [Sitting up] She walks as if she’s set something on fire.
Page 156
OLGA. Masha, you’re silly, you’re the silliest of the family. Please forgive
me for saying so. [Pause.]
MASHA. I want to make a confession, dear sisters. My soul is in pain. I
will confess to you, and never again to anybody... I’ll tell you this minute.
[Softly] It’s my secret but you must know everything... I can’t be silent....
[Pause] I love, I love... I love that man.... You saw him only just now....
Why don’t I say it... in one word. I love Vershinin.
OLGA. [Goes behind her screen] Stop that, I don’t hear you in any case.
MASHA. What am I to do? [Takes her head in her hands] First he seemed
queer to me, then I was sorry for him... then I fell in love with him... fell in
love with his voice, his words, his misfortunes, his two daughters.
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.
MASHA. Oh, Olga, you are foolish. I am in love—that means that is to be
my fate. It means that is to be my lot.... And he loves me.... It is all awful.
Yes; it isn’t good, is it? [Takes IRINA’S hand and draws her to her] Oh, my
dear.... How are we going to live through our lives, what is to become of
us.... When you read a novel it all seems so old and easy, but when you fall
in love yourself, then you learn that nobody knows anything, and each must
decide for himself.... My dear ones, my sisters... I’ve confessed, now I shall
keep silence.... Like the lunatics in Gogol’s story, I’m going to be silent...
silent...
[ANDREY enters, followed by FERAPONT.]
ANDREY. [Angrily] What do you want? I don’t understand.
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.
me for saying so. [Pause.]
MASHA. I want to make a confession, dear sisters. My soul is in pain. I
will confess to you, and never again to anybody... I’ll tell you this minute.
[Softly] It’s my secret but you must know everything... I can’t be silent....
[Pause] I love, I love... I love that man.... You saw him only just now....
Why don’t I say it... in one word. I love Vershinin.
OLGA. [Goes behind her screen] Stop that, I don’t hear you in any case.
MASHA. What am I to do? [Takes her head in her hands] First he seemed
queer to me, then I was sorry for him... then I fell in love with him... fell in
love with his voice, his words, his misfortunes, his two daughters.
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.
MASHA. Oh, Olga, you are foolish. I am in love—that means that is to be
my fate. It means that is to be my lot.... And he loves me.... It is all awful.
Yes; it isn’t good, is it? [Takes IRINA’S hand and draws her to her] Oh, my
dear.... How are we going to live through our lives, what is to become of
us.... When you read a novel it all seems so old and easy, but when you fall
in love yourself, then you learn that nobody knows anything, and each must
decide for himself.... My dear ones, my sisters... I’ve confessed, now I shall
keep silence.... Like the lunatics in Gogol’s story, I’m going to be silent...
silent...
[ANDREY enters, followed by FERAPONT.]
ANDREY. [Angrily] What do you want? I don’t understand.
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.
Page 157
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. [Much confused] Don’t excite yourself. I ask you in perfect
calmness; what have you against me? Tell me straight.
VERSHININ’S VOICE. Trum-tum-tum!
MASHA. [Stands; loudly] Tra-ta-ta! [To OLGA] Goodbye, Olga, God bless
you. [Goes behind screen and kisses IRINA] Sleep well.... Good-bye,
Andrey. Go away now, they’re tired... you can explain to-morrow.... [Exit.]
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.]
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. [Much confused] Don’t excite yourself. I ask you in perfect
calmness; what have you against me? Tell me straight.
VERSHININ’S VOICE. Trum-tum-tum!
MASHA. [Stands; loudly] Tra-ta-ta! [To OLGA] Goodbye, Olga, God bless
you. [Goes behind screen and kisses IRINA] Sleep well.... Good-bye,
Andrey. Go away now, they’re tired... you can explain to-morrow.... [Exit.]
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.]
Page 158
KULIGIN. [At the door] Is Masha there? [Excitedly] Where is she? It’s
queer.... [Exit.]
ANDREY. They don’t hear. Natasha is a splendid, honest person. [Walks
about in silence, then stops] When I married I thought we should be happy...
all of us.... But, my God.... [Weeps] My dear, dear sisters, don’t believe me,
don’t believe me.... [Exit.]
[Fire-alarm. The stage is clear.]
IRINA. [behind her screen] Olga, who’s knocking on the floor?
OLGA. It’s doctor Ivan Romanovitch. He’s drunk.
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. It’s only a rumour.
IRINA. Then we shall be left alone.... Olga!
OLGA. Well?
IRINA. My dear, darling sister, I esteem, I highly value the Baron, he’s a
splendid man; I’ll marry him, I’ll consent, only let’s go to Moscow! I
implore you, let’s go! There’s nothing better than Moscow on earth! Let’s
go, Olga, let’s go!
Curtain
queer.... [Exit.]
ANDREY. They don’t hear. Natasha is a splendid, honest person. [Walks
about in silence, then stops] When I married I thought we should be happy...
all of us.... But, my God.... [Weeps] My dear, dear sisters, don’t believe me,
don’t believe me.... [Exit.]
[Fire-alarm. The stage is clear.]
IRINA. [behind her screen] Olga, who’s knocking on the floor?
OLGA. It’s doctor Ivan Romanovitch. He’s drunk.
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. It’s only a rumour.
IRINA. Then we shall be left alone.... Olga!
OLGA. Well?
IRINA. My dear, darling sister, I esteem, I highly value the Baron, he’s a
splendid man; I’ll marry him, I’ll consent, only let’s go to Moscow! I
implore you, let’s go! There’s nothing better than Moscow on earth! Let’s
go, Olga, let’s go!
Curtain
Page 159
ACT IV
[The old garden at the house of the PROSOROVS. There is a long avenue
of firs, at the end of which the river can be seen. There is a forest on the far
side of the river. On the right is the terrace of the house: bottles and
tumblers are on a table here; it is evident that champagne has just been
drunk. It is midday. Every now and again passers-by walk across the
garden, from the road to the river; five soldiers go past rapidly.
CHEBUTIKIN, in a comfortable frame of mind which does not desert him
throughout the act, sits in an armchair in the garden, waiting to be called.
He wears a peaked cap and has a stick. IRINA, KULIGIN with a cross
hanging from his neck and without his moustaches, and TUZENBACH are
standing on the terrace seeing off FEDOTIK and RODE, who are coming
down into the garden; both officers are in service uniform.]
TUZENBACH. [Exchanges kisses with FEDOTIK] You’re a good sort, we
got on so well together. [Exchanges kisses with RODE] Once again....
Good-bye, old man!
IRINA. Au revoir!
FEDOTIK. It isn’t au revoir, it’s good-bye; we’ll never meet again!
KULIGIN. Who knows! [Wipes his eyes; smiles] Here I’ve started crying!
IRINA. We’ll meet again sometime.
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.
RODE. [Embracing TUZENBACH] We shan’t meet again.... [Kisses
IRINA’S hand] Thank you for everything, for everything!
FEDOTIK. [Grieved] Don’t be in such a hurry!
[The old garden at the house of the PROSOROVS. There is a long avenue
of firs, at the end of which the river can be seen. There is a forest on the far
side of the river. On the right is the terrace of the house: bottles and
tumblers are on a table here; it is evident that champagne has just been
drunk. It is midday. Every now and again passers-by walk across the
garden, from the road to the river; five soldiers go past rapidly.
CHEBUTIKIN, in a comfortable frame of mind which does not desert him
throughout the act, sits in an armchair in the garden, waiting to be called.
He wears a peaked cap and has a stick. IRINA, KULIGIN with a cross
hanging from his neck and without his moustaches, and TUZENBACH are
standing on the terrace seeing off FEDOTIK and RODE, who are coming
down into the garden; both officers are in service uniform.]
TUZENBACH. [Exchanges kisses with FEDOTIK] You’re a good sort, we
got on so well together. [Exchanges kisses with RODE] Once again....
Good-bye, old man!
IRINA. Au revoir!
FEDOTIK. It isn’t au revoir, it’s good-bye; we’ll never meet again!
KULIGIN. Who knows! [Wipes his eyes; smiles] Here I’ve started crying!
IRINA. We’ll meet again sometime.
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.
RODE. [Embracing TUZENBACH] We shan’t meet again.... [Kisses
IRINA’S hand] Thank you for everything, for everything!
FEDOTIK. [Grieved] Don’t be in such a hurry!
Page 160
TUZENBACH. We shall meet again, if God wills it. Write to us. Be sure to
write.
RODE. [Looking round the garden] Good-bye, trees! [Shouts] Yo-ho!
[Pause] Good-bye, echo!
KULIGIN. Best wishes. Go and get yourselves wives there in Poland....
Your Polish wife will clasp you and call you “kochanku!” [Note: Darling.]
[Laughs.]
FEDOTIK. [Looking at the time] There’s less than an hour left. Soleni is
the only one of our battery who is going on the barge; the rest of us are
going with the main body. Three batteries are leaving to-day, another three
to-morrow and then the town will be quiet and peaceful.
TUZENBACH. And terribly dull.
RODE. And where is Maria Sergeyevna?
KULIGIN. Masha is in the garden.
FEDOTIK. We’d like to say good-bye to her.
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....
FEDOTIK. [To KULIGIN] Here’s a keepsake for you... a note-book with a
pencil.... We’ll go to the river from here.... [They go aside and both look
round.]
RODE. [Shouts] Yo-ho!
KULIGIN. [Shouts] Good-bye!
[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.]
CHEBUTIKIN. And they forgot to say good-bye to me.
write.
RODE. [Looking round the garden] Good-bye, trees! [Shouts] Yo-ho!
[Pause] Good-bye, echo!
KULIGIN. Best wishes. Go and get yourselves wives there in Poland....
Your Polish wife will clasp you and call you “kochanku!” [Note: Darling.]
[Laughs.]
FEDOTIK. [Looking at the time] There’s less than an hour left. Soleni is
the only one of our battery who is going on the barge; the rest of us are
going with the main body. Three batteries are leaving to-day, another three
to-morrow and then the town will be quiet and peaceful.
TUZENBACH. And terribly dull.
RODE. And where is Maria Sergeyevna?
KULIGIN. Masha is in the garden.
FEDOTIK. We’d like to say good-bye to her.
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....
FEDOTIK. [To KULIGIN] Here’s a keepsake for you... a note-book with a
pencil.... We’ll go to the river from here.... [They go aside and both look
round.]
RODE. [Shouts] Yo-ho!
KULIGIN. [Shouts] Good-bye!
[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.]
CHEBUTIKIN. And they forgot to say good-bye to me.
Page 161
IRINA. But why is that?
CHEBUTIKIN. I just forgot, somehow. Though I’ll soon see them again,
I’m going to-morrow. Yes... just one day left. I shall be retired in a year,
then I’ll come here again, and finish my life near you. I’ve only one year
before I get my pension.... [Puts one newspaper into his pocket and takes
another out] I’ll come here to you and change my life radically... I’ll be so
quiet... so agree... agreeable, respectable....
IRINA. Yes, you ought to change your life, dear man, somehow or other.
CHEBUTIKIN. Yes, I feel it. [Sings softly.] “Tarara-boom-deay....”
KULIGIN. We won’t reform Ivan Romanovitch! We won’t reform him!
CHEBUTIKIN. If only I was apprenticed to you! Then I’d reform.
IRINA. Feodor has shaved his moustache! I can’t bear to look at him.
KULIGIN. Well, what about it?
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.]
[At the back of the stage ANDREY is wheeling a perambulator containing a
sleeping infant.]
IRINA. Ivan Romanovitch, be a darling. I’m awfully worried. You were out
on the boulevard last night; tell me, what happened?
CHEBUTIKIN. What happened? Nothing. Quite a trifling matter. [Reads
paper] Of no importance!
KULIGIN. They say that Soleni and the Baron met yesterday on the
boulevard near the theatre....
CHEBUTIKIN. I just forgot, somehow. Though I’ll soon see them again,
I’m going to-morrow. Yes... just one day left. I shall be retired in a year,
then I’ll come here again, and finish my life near you. I’ve only one year
before I get my pension.... [Puts one newspaper into his pocket and takes
another out] I’ll come here to you and change my life radically... I’ll be so
quiet... so agree... agreeable, respectable....
IRINA. Yes, you ought to change your life, dear man, somehow or other.
CHEBUTIKIN. Yes, I feel it. [Sings softly.] “Tarara-boom-deay....”
KULIGIN. We won’t reform Ivan Romanovitch! We won’t reform him!
CHEBUTIKIN. If only I was apprenticed to you! Then I’d reform.
IRINA. Feodor has shaved his moustache! I can’t bear to look at him.
KULIGIN. Well, what about it?
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.]
[At the back of the stage ANDREY is wheeling a perambulator containing a
sleeping infant.]
IRINA. Ivan Romanovitch, be a darling. I’m awfully worried. You were out
on the boulevard last night; tell me, what happened?
CHEBUTIKIN. What happened? Nothing. Quite a trifling matter. [Reads
paper] Of no importance!
KULIGIN. They say that Soleni and the Baron met yesterday on the
boulevard near the theatre....
Page 162
TUZENBACH. Stop! What right... [Waves his hand and goes into the
house.]
KULIGIN. Near the theatre... Soleni started behaving offensively to the
Baron, who lost his temper and said something nasty....
CHEBUTIKIN. I don’t know. It’s all bunkum.
KULIGIN. At some seminary or other a master wrote “bunkum” on an
essay, and the student couldn’t make the letters out—thought it was a Latin
word “luckum.” [Laughs] Awfully funny, that. They say that Soleni is in
love with Irina and hates the Baron.... That’s quite natural. Irina is a very
nice girl. She’s even like Masha, she’s so thoughtful.... Only, Irina your
character is gentler. Though Masha’s character, too, is a very good one. I’m
very fond of Masha. [Shouts of “Yo-ho!” are heard behind the stage.]
IRINA. [Shudders] Everything seems to frighten me today. [Pause] I’ve got
everything ready, and I send my things off after dinner. The Baron and I
will be married to-morrow, and to-morrow we go away to the brickworks,
and the next day I go to the school, and the new life begins. God will help
me! When I took my examination for the teacher’s post, I actually wept for
joy and gratitude.... [Pause] The cart will be here in a minute for my
things....
KULIGIN. Somehow or other, all this doesn’t seem at all serious. As if it
was all ideas, and nothing really serious. Still, with all my soul I wish you
happiness.
CHEBUTIKIN. [With deep feeling] My splendid... my dear, precious girl....
You’ve gone on far ahead, I won’t catch up with you. I’m left behind like a
migrant bird grown old, and unable to fly. Fly, my dear, fly, and God be
with you! [Pause] It’s a pity you shaved your moustaches, Feodor Ilitch.
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
house.]
KULIGIN. Near the theatre... Soleni started behaving offensively to the
Baron, who lost his temper and said something nasty....
CHEBUTIKIN. I don’t know. It’s all bunkum.
KULIGIN. At some seminary or other a master wrote “bunkum” on an
essay, and the student couldn’t make the letters out—thought it was a Latin
word “luckum.” [Laughs] Awfully funny, that. They say that Soleni is in
love with Irina and hates the Baron.... That’s quite natural. Irina is a very
nice girl. She’s even like Masha, she’s so thoughtful.... Only, Irina your
character is gentler. Though Masha’s character, too, is a very good one. I’m
very fond of Masha. [Shouts of “Yo-ho!” are heard behind the stage.]
IRINA. [Shudders] Everything seems to frighten me today. [Pause] I’ve got
everything ready, and I send my things off after dinner. The Baron and I
will be married to-morrow, and to-morrow we go away to the brickworks,
and the next day I go to the school, and the new life begins. God will help
me! When I took my examination for the teacher’s post, I actually wept for
joy and gratitude.... [Pause] The cart will be here in a minute for my
things....
KULIGIN. Somehow or other, all this doesn’t seem at all serious. As if it
was all ideas, and nothing really serious. Still, with all my soul I wish you
happiness.
CHEBUTIKIN. [With deep feeling] My splendid... my dear, precious girl....
You’ve gone on far ahead, I won’t catch up with you. I’m left behind like a
migrant bird grown old, and unable to fly. Fly, my dear, fly, and God be
with you! [Pause] It’s a pity you shaved your moustaches, Feodor Ilitch.
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
Page 163
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....
[“The Maiden’s Prayer” is being played on the piano in the house.]
IRINA. To-morrow night I shan’t hear that “Maiden’s Prayer” any more,
and I shan’t be meeting Protopopov.... [Pause] Protopopov is sitting there in
the drawing-room; and he came to-day...
KULIGIN. Hasn’t the head-mistress come yet?
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....
CHEBUTIKIN. Luckum. Rubbish.
NATASHA. [At the window] The head-mistress.
KULIGIN. The head-mistress has come. Let’s go. [Exit with IRINA into the
house.]
CHEBUTIKIN. “It is my washing day.... Tara-ra... boom-deay.”
[MASHA approaches, ANDREY is wheeling a perambulator at the back.]
MASHA. Here you are, sitting here, doing nothing.
CHEBUTIKIN. What then?
“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....
[“The Maiden’s Prayer” is being played on the piano in the house.]
IRINA. To-morrow night I shan’t hear that “Maiden’s Prayer” any more,
and I shan’t be meeting Protopopov.... [Pause] Protopopov is sitting there in
the drawing-room; and he came to-day...
KULIGIN. Hasn’t the head-mistress come yet?
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....
CHEBUTIKIN. Luckum. Rubbish.
NATASHA. [At the window] The head-mistress.
KULIGIN. The head-mistress has come. Let’s go. [Exit with IRINA into the
house.]
CHEBUTIKIN. “It is my washing day.... Tara-ra... boom-deay.”
[MASHA approaches, ANDREY is wheeling a perambulator at the back.]
MASHA. Here you are, sitting here, doing nothing.
CHEBUTIKIN. What then?
Page 164
MASHA. [Sits] Nothing.... [Pause] Did you love my mother?
CHEBUTIKIN. Very much.
MASHA. And did she love you?
CHEBUTIKIN. [After a pause] I don’t remember that.
MASHA. Is my man here? When our cook Martha used to ask about her
gendarme, she used to say my man. Is he here?
CHEBUTIKIN. Not yet.
MASHA. When you take your happiness in little bits, in snatches, and then
lose it, as I have done, you gradually get coarser, more bitter. [Points to her
bosom] I’m boiling in here.... [Looks at ANDREY with the perambulator]
There’s our brother Andrey.... All our hopes in him have gone. There was
once a great bell, a thousand persons were hoisting it, much money and
labour had been spent on it, when it suddenly fell and was broken.
Suddenly, for no particular reason.... Andrey is like that....
ANDREY. When are they going to stop making such a noise in the house?
It’s awful.
CHEBUTIKIN. They won’t be much longer. [Looks at his watch] My
watch is very old-fashioned, it strikes the hours.... [Winds the watch and
makes it strike] The first, second, and fifth batteries are to leave at one
o’clock precisely. [Pause] And I go to-morrow.
ANDREY. For good?
CHEBUTIKIN. I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll return in a year. The devil only
knows... it’s all one.... [Somewhere a harp and violin are being played.]
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.
CHEBUTIKIN. Nothing. A silly little affair. Soleni started irritating the
Baron, who lost his temper and insulted him, and so at last Soleni had to
challenge him. [Looks at his watch] It’s about time, I think.... At half-past
CHEBUTIKIN. Very much.
MASHA. And did she love you?
CHEBUTIKIN. [After a pause] I don’t remember that.
MASHA. Is my man here? When our cook Martha used to ask about her
gendarme, she used to say my man. Is he here?
CHEBUTIKIN. Not yet.
MASHA. When you take your happiness in little bits, in snatches, and then
lose it, as I have done, you gradually get coarser, more bitter. [Points to her
bosom] I’m boiling in here.... [Looks at ANDREY with the perambulator]
There’s our brother Andrey.... All our hopes in him have gone. There was
once a great bell, a thousand persons were hoisting it, much money and
labour had been spent on it, when it suddenly fell and was broken.
Suddenly, for no particular reason.... Andrey is like that....
ANDREY. When are they going to stop making such a noise in the house?
It’s awful.
CHEBUTIKIN. They won’t be much longer. [Looks at his watch] My
watch is very old-fashioned, it strikes the hours.... [Winds the watch and
makes it strike] The first, second, and fifth batteries are to leave at one
o’clock precisely. [Pause] And I go to-morrow.
ANDREY. For good?
CHEBUTIKIN. I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll return in a year. The devil only
knows... it’s all one.... [Somewhere a harp and violin are being played.]
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.
CHEBUTIKIN. Nothing. A silly little affair. Soleni started irritating the
Baron, who lost his temper and insulted him, and so at last Soleni had to
challenge him. [Looks at his watch] It’s about time, I think.... At half-past
Page 165
twelve, in the public wood, that one you can see from here across the
river.... Piff-paff. [Laughs] Soleni thinks he’s Lermontov, and even writes
verses. That’s all very well, but this is his third duel.
MASHA. Whose?
CHEBUTIKIN. Soleni’s.
MASHA. And the Baron?
CHEBUTIKIN. What about the Baron? [Pause.]
MASHA. Everything’s all muddled up in my head.... But I say it ought not
to be allowed. He might wound the Baron or even kill him.
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. In my opinion it’s simply immoral to fight in a duel, or to be
present, even in the quality of a doctor.
CHEBUTIKIN. It only seems so.... We don’t exist, there’s nothing on earth,
we don’t really live, it only seems that we live. Does it matter, anyway!
MASHA. You talk and talk the whole day long. [Going] You live in a
climate like this, where it might snow any moment, and there you talk....
[Stops] I won’t go into the house, I can’t go there.... Tell me when Vershinin
comes.... [Goes along the avenue] The migrant birds are already on the
wing.... [Looks up] Swans or geese.... My dear, happy things.... [Exit.]
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. And your wife?
[FERAPONT enters with some documents.]
ANDREY. A wife’s a wife. She’s honest, well-bred, yes; and kind, but with
all that there is still something about her that degenerates her into a petty,
blind, even in some respects misshapen animal. In any case, she isn’t a man.
river.... Piff-paff. [Laughs] Soleni thinks he’s Lermontov, and even writes
verses. That’s all very well, but this is his third duel.
MASHA. Whose?
CHEBUTIKIN. Soleni’s.
MASHA. And the Baron?
CHEBUTIKIN. What about the Baron? [Pause.]
MASHA. Everything’s all muddled up in my head.... But I say it ought not
to be allowed. He might wound the Baron or even kill him.
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. In my opinion it’s simply immoral to fight in a duel, or to be
present, even in the quality of a doctor.
CHEBUTIKIN. It only seems so.... We don’t exist, there’s nothing on earth,
we don’t really live, it only seems that we live. Does it matter, anyway!
MASHA. You talk and talk the whole day long. [Going] You live in a
climate like this, where it might snow any moment, and there you talk....
[Stops] I won’t go into the house, I can’t go there.... Tell me when Vershinin
comes.... [Goes along the avenue] The migrant birds are already on the
wing.... [Looks up] Swans or geese.... My dear, happy things.... [Exit.]
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. And your wife?
[FERAPONT enters with some documents.]
ANDREY. A wife’s a wife. She’s honest, well-bred, yes; and kind, but with
all that there is still something about her that degenerates her into a petty,
blind, even in some respects misshapen animal. In any case, she isn’t a man.
Page 166
I tell you as a friend, as the only man to whom I can lay bare my soul. I love
Natasha, it’s true, but sometimes she seems extraordinarily vulgar, and then
I lose myself and can’t understand why I love her so much, or, at any rate,
used to love her....
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.]
SOLENI. Doctor, it’s time. It’s half-past twelve already. [Shakes hands with
ANDREY.]
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. Stop it!
SOLENI. How’s your health?
CHEBUTIKIN. [Angry] Mind your own business.
SOLENI. The old man is unnecessarily excited. I won’t go far, I’ll only just
bring him down like a snipe. [Takes out his scent-bottle and scents his
hands] I’ve poured out a whole bottle of scent to-day and they still smell...
of a dead body. [Pause] Yes.... You remember the poem
“But he, the rebel seeks the storm,
As if the storm will bring him rest...”?
CHEBUTIKIN. Yes.
“He didn’t have the time to sigh,
The bear sat on him heavily.”
Natasha, it’s true, but sometimes she seems extraordinarily vulgar, and then
I lose myself and can’t understand why I love her so much, or, at any rate,
used to love her....
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.]
SOLENI. Doctor, it’s time. It’s half-past twelve already. [Shakes hands with
ANDREY.]
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. Stop it!
SOLENI. How’s your health?
CHEBUTIKIN. [Angry] Mind your own business.
SOLENI. The old man is unnecessarily excited. I won’t go far, I’ll only just
bring him down like a snipe. [Takes out his scent-bottle and scents his
hands] I’ve poured out a whole bottle of scent to-day and they still smell...
of a dead body. [Pause] Yes.... You remember the poem
“But he, the rebel seeks the storm,
As if the storm will bring him rest...”?
CHEBUTIKIN. Yes.
“He didn’t have the time to sigh,
The bear sat on him heavily.”
Page 167
[Exit with SOLENI.]
[Shouts are heard. ANDREY and FERAPONT come in.]
FERAPONT. Documents to sign....
ANDREY. [Irritated]. Go away! Leave me! Please! [Goes away with the
perambulator.]
FERAPONT. That’s what documents are for, to be signed. [Retires to back
of stage.]
[Enter IRINA, with TUZENBACH in a straw hat; KULIGIN walks across
the stage, shouting “Co-ee, Masha, co-ee!”]
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. My dear, I shall return soon.
IRINA. Where are you going?
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. [Making a movement of impatience] In an hour’s time I
shall return and be with you again. [Kisses her hands] My darling...
[Looking her closely in the face] it’s five years now since I fell in love with
you, and still I can’t get used to it, and you seem to me to grow more and
more beautiful. What lovely, wonderful hair! What eyes! I’m going to take
you away to-morrow. We shall work, we shall be rich, my dreams will come
true. You will be happy. There’s only one thing, one thing only: you don’t
love me!
IRINA. It isn’t in my power! I shall be your wife, I shall be true to you, and
obedient to you, but I can’t love you. What can I do! [Cries] I have never
been in love in my life. Oh, I used to think so much of love, I have been
thinking about it for so long by day and by night, but my soul is like an
[Shouts are heard. ANDREY and FERAPONT come in.]
FERAPONT. Documents to sign....
ANDREY. [Irritated]. Go away! Leave me! Please! [Goes away with the
perambulator.]
FERAPONT. That’s what documents are for, to be signed. [Retires to back
of stage.]
[Enter IRINA, with TUZENBACH in a straw hat; KULIGIN walks across
the stage, shouting “Co-ee, Masha, co-ee!”]
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. My dear, I shall return soon.
IRINA. Where are you going?
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. [Making a movement of impatience] In an hour’s time I
shall return and be with you again. [Kisses her hands] My darling...
[Looking her closely in the face] it’s five years now since I fell in love with
you, and still I can’t get used to it, and you seem to me to grow more and
more beautiful. What lovely, wonderful hair! What eyes! I’m going to take
you away to-morrow. We shall work, we shall be rich, my dreams will come
true. You will be happy. There’s only one thing, one thing only: you don’t
love me!
IRINA. It isn’t in my power! I shall be your wife, I shall be true to you, and
obedient to you, but I can’t love you. What can I do! [Cries] I have never
been in love in my life. Oh, I used to think so much of love, I have been
thinking about it for so long by day and by night, but my soul is like an
Page 168
expensive piano which is locked and the key lost. [Pause] You seem so
unhappy.
TUZENBACH. I didn’t sleep at night. There is nothing in my life so awful
as to be able to frighten me, only that lost key torments my soul and does
not let me sleep. Say something to me [Pause] say something to me....
IRINA. What can I say, what?
TUZENBACH. Anything.
IRINA. Don’t! don’t! [Pause.]
TUZENBACH. It is curious how silly trivial little things, sometimes for no
apparent reason, become significant. At first you laugh at these things, you
think they are of no importance, you go on and you feel that you haven’t got
the strength to stop yourself. Oh don’t let’s talk about it! I am happy. It is as
if for the first time in my life I see these firs, maples, beeches, and they all
look at me inquisitively and wait. What beautiful trees and how beautiful,
when one comes to think of it, life must be near them! [A shout of Co-ee! in
the distance] It’s time I went.... There’s a tree which has dried up but it still
sways in the breeze with the others. And so it seems to me that if I die, I
shall still take part in life in one way or another. Good-bye, dear.... [Kisses
her hands] The papers which you gave me are on my table under the
calendar.
IRINA. I am coming with you.
TUZENBACH. [Nervously] No, no! [He goes quickly and stops in the
avenue] Irina!
IRINA. What is it?
TUZENBACH. [Not knowing what to say] I haven’t had any coffee to-day.
Tell them to make me some.... [He goes out quickly.]
[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.]
unhappy.
TUZENBACH. I didn’t sleep at night. There is nothing in my life so awful
as to be able to frighten me, only that lost key torments my soul and does
not let me sleep. Say something to me [Pause] say something to me....
IRINA. What can I say, what?
TUZENBACH. Anything.
IRINA. Don’t! don’t! [Pause.]
TUZENBACH. It is curious how silly trivial little things, sometimes for no
apparent reason, become significant. At first you laugh at these things, you
think they are of no importance, you go on and you feel that you haven’t got
the strength to stop yourself. Oh don’t let’s talk about it! I am happy. It is as
if for the first time in my life I see these firs, maples, beeches, and they all
look at me inquisitively and wait. What beautiful trees and how beautiful,
when one comes to think of it, life must be near them! [A shout of Co-ee! in
the distance] It’s time I went.... There’s a tree which has dried up but it still
sways in the breeze with the others. And so it seems to me that if I die, I
shall still take part in life in one way or another. Good-bye, dear.... [Kisses
her hands] The papers which you gave me are on my table under the
calendar.
IRINA. I am coming with you.
TUZENBACH. [Nervously] No, no! [He goes quickly and stops in the
avenue] Irina!
IRINA. What is it?
TUZENBACH. [Not knowing what to say] I haven’t had any coffee to-day.
Tell them to make me some.... [He goes out quickly.]
[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.]
Page 169
FERAPONT. Andrey Sergeyevitch, it isn’t as if the documents were mine,
they are the government’s. I didn’t make them.
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. What? Documents want signing.
ANDREY. I’m tired of you.
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....
FERAPONT. He was saying that two thousand people were frozen to death.
The people were frightened, he said. In Petersburg or Moscow, I don’t
remember which.
they are the government’s. I didn’t make them.
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. What? Documents want signing.
ANDREY. I’m tired of you.
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....
FERAPONT. He was saying that two thousand people were frozen to death.
The people were frightened, he said. In Petersburg or Moscow, I don’t
remember which.
Page 170
ANDREY. [Overcome by a tender emotion] My dear sisters, my beautiful
sisters! [Crying] Masha, my sister....
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 dormée deja. Vous êtes un ours. [Angrily] If you want to talk, then give
the perambulator and the baby to somebody else. Ferapont, take the
perambulator!
FERAPONT. Yes’m. [Takes the perambulator.]
ANDREY. [Confused] I’m speaking quietly.
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....
[Goes into house reading papers; FERAPONT takes the perambulator to the
back of the garden.]
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!”
[Two wandering musicians, a man and a girl, are playing on a violin and a
harp. VERSHININ, OLGA, and ANFISA come out of the house and listen
for a minute in silence; IRINA comes up to them.]
OLGA. Our garden might be a public thoroughfare, from the way people
walk and ride across it. Nurse, give those musicians something!
ANFISA. [Gives money to the musicians] Go away with God’s blessing on
you. [The musicians bow and go away] A bitter sort of people. You don’t
play on a full stomach. [To IRINA] How do you do, Arisha! [Kisses her]
Well, little girl, here I am, still alive! Still alive! In the High School,
together with little Olga, in her official apartments... so the Lord has
appointed for my old age. Sinful woman that I am, I’ve never lived like that
in my life before.... A large flat, government property, and I’ve a whole
sisters! [Crying] Masha, my sister....
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 dormée deja. Vous êtes un ours. [Angrily] If you want to talk, then give
the perambulator and the baby to somebody else. Ferapont, take the
perambulator!
FERAPONT. Yes’m. [Takes the perambulator.]
ANDREY. [Confused] I’m speaking quietly.
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....
[Goes into house reading papers; FERAPONT takes the perambulator to the
back of the garden.]
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!”
[Two wandering musicians, a man and a girl, are playing on a violin and a
harp. VERSHININ, OLGA, and ANFISA come out of the house and listen
for a minute in silence; IRINA comes up to them.]
OLGA. Our garden might be a public thoroughfare, from the way people
walk and ride across it. Nurse, give those musicians something!
ANFISA. [Gives money to the musicians] Go away with God’s blessing on
you. [The musicians bow and go away] A bitter sort of people. You don’t
play on a full stomach. [To IRINA] How do you do, Arisha! [Kisses her]
Well, little girl, here I am, still alive! Still alive! In the High School,
together with little Olga, in her official apartments... so the Lord has
appointed for my old age. Sinful woman that I am, I’ve never lived like that
in my life before.... A large flat, government property, and I’ve a whole
Page 171
room and bed to myself. All government property. I wake up at nights and,
oh God, and Holy Mother, there isn’t a happier person than I!
VERSHININ. [Looks at his watch] We are going soon, Olga Sergeyevna.
It’s time for me to go. [Pause] I wish you every... every.... Where’s Maria
Sergeyevna?
IRINA. She’s somewhere in the garden. I’ll go and look for her.
VERSHININ. If you’ll be so kind. I haven’t time.
ANFISA. I’ll go and look, too. [Shouts] Little Masha, co-ee! [Goes out with
IRINA down into the garden] Co-ee, co-ee!
VERSHININ. Everything comes to an end. And so we, too, must part.
[Looks at his watch] The town gave us a sort of farewell breakfast, we had
champagne to drink and the mayor made a speech, and I ate and listened,
but my soul was here all the time.... [Looks round the garden] I’m so used
to you now.
OLGA. Shall we ever meet again?
VERSHININ. Probably not. [Pause] My wife and both my daughters will
stay here another two months. If anything happens, or if anything has to be
done...
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.
OLGA. [Wipes her eyes] Why isn’t Masha coming...
VERSHININ. What else can I say in parting? Can I philosophize about
anything? [Laughs] Life is heavy. To many of us it seems dull and hopeless,
but still, it must be acknowledged that it is getting lighter and clearer, and it
seems that the time is not far off when it will be quite clear. [Looks at his
oh God, and Holy Mother, there isn’t a happier person than I!
VERSHININ. [Looks at his watch] We are going soon, Olga Sergeyevna.
It’s time for me to go. [Pause] I wish you every... every.... Where’s Maria
Sergeyevna?
IRINA. She’s somewhere in the garden. I’ll go and look for her.
VERSHININ. If you’ll be so kind. I haven’t time.
ANFISA. I’ll go and look, too. [Shouts] Little Masha, co-ee! [Goes out with
IRINA down into the garden] Co-ee, co-ee!
VERSHININ. Everything comes to an end. And so we, too, must part.
[Looks at his watch] The town gave us a sort of farewell breakfast, we had
champagne to drink and the mayor made a speech, and I ate and listened,
but my soul was here all the time.... [Looks round the garden] I’m so used
to you now.
OLGA. Shall we ever meet again?
VERSHININ. Probably not. [Pause] My wife and both my daughters will
stay here another two months. If anything happens, or if anything has to be
done...
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.
OLGA. [Wipes her eyes] Why isn’t Masha coming...
VERSHININ. What else can I say in parting? Can I philosophize about
anything? [Laughs] Life is heavy. To many of us it seems dull and hopeless,
but still, it must be acknowledged that it is getting lighter and clearer, and it
seems that the time is not far off when it will be quite clear. [Looks at his
Page 172
watch] It’s time I went! Mankind used to be absorbed in wars, and all its
existence was filled with campaigns, attacks, defeats, now we’ve outlived
all that, leaving after us a great waste place, which there is nothing to fill
with at present; but mankind is looking for something, and will certainly
find it. Oh, if it only happened more quickly. [Pause] If only education
could be added to industry, and industry to education. [Looks at his watch]
It’s time I went....
OLGA. Here she comes.
[Enter MASHA.]
VERSHININ. I came to say good-bye....
[OLGA steps aside a little, so as not to be in their way.]
MASHA. [Looking him in the face] Good-bye. [Prolonged kiss.]
OLGA. Don’t, don’t. [MASHA is crying bitterly]
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.]
OLGA. Don’t, Masha! Stop, dear.... [KULIGIN enters.]
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...
MASHA. [Restraining her sobs] “There stands a green oak by the sea,
And a chain of bright gold is around it....
And a chain of bright gold is around it....”
I’m going off my head... “There stands... a green oak... by the sea.”...
OLGA. Don’t, Masha, don’t... give her some water....
MASHA. I’m not crying any more....
existence was filled with campaigns, attacks, defeats, now we’ve outlived
all that, leaving after us a great waste place, which there is nothing to fill
with at present; but mankind is looking for something, and will certainly
find it. Oh, if it only happened more quickly. [Pause] If only education
could be added to industry, and industry to education. [Looks at his watch]
It’s time I went....
OLGA. Here she comes.
[Enter MASHA.]
VERSHININ. I came to say good-bye....
[OLGA steps aside a little, so as not to be in their way.]
MASHA. [Looking him in the face] Good-bye. [Prolonged kiss.]
OLGA. Don’t, don’t. [MASHA is crying bitterly]
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.]
OLGA. Don’t, Masha! Stop, dear.... [KULIGIN enters.]
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...
MASHA. [Restraining her sobs] “There stands a green oak by the sea,
And a chain of bright gold is around it....
And a chain of bright gold is around it....”
I’m going off my head... “There stands... a green oak... by the sea.”...
OLGA. Don’t, Masha, don’t... give her some water....
MASHA. I’m not crying any more....
Page 173
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.]
OLGA. Be quiet, Masha. There’s a good girl.... Let’s go in.
MASHA. [Angrily] I shan’t go in there. [Sobs, but controls herself at once]
I’m not going to go into the house, I won’t go....
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.
OLGA. [Laughs] Yes. [MASHA weeps.]
IRINA. Don’t, Masha!
KULIGIN. It’s a very good likeness....
[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
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.]
OLGA. Be quiet, Masha. There’s a good girl.... Let’s go in.
MASHA. [Angrily] I shan’t go in there. [Sobs, but controls herself at once]
I’m not going to go into the house, I won’t go....
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.
OLGA. [Laughs] Yes. [MASHA weeps.]
IRINA. Don’t, Masha!
KULIGIN. It’s a very good likeness....
[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
Page 174
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!”
KULIGIN. A beautiful child, it’s quite true.
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!
KULIGIN. Temper! temper! [A march is played off; they all listen.]
OLGA. They’re going.
[CHEBUTIKIN comes in.]
MASHA. They’re going. Well, well.... Bon voyage! [To her husband] We
must be going home.... Where’s my coat and hat?
KULIGIN. I took them in... I’ll bring them, in a moment.
OLGA. Yes, now we can all go home. It’s time.
CHEBUTIKIN. Olga Sergeyevna!
OLGA. What is it? [Pause] What is it?
CHEBUTIKIN. Nothing... I don’t know how to tell you.... [Whispers to
her.]
OLGA. [Frightened] It can’t be true!
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?
—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!”
KULIGIN. A beautiful child, it’s quite true.
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!
KULIGIN. Temper! temper! [A march is played off; they all listen.]
OLGA. They’re going.
[CHEBUTIKIN comes in.]
MASHA. They’re going. Well, well.... Bon voyage! [To her husband] We
must be going home.... Where’s my coat and hat?
KULIGIN. I took them in... I’ll bring them, in a moment.
OLGA. Yes, now we can all go home. It’s time.
CHEBUTIKIN. Olga Sergeyevna!
OLGA. What is it? [Pause] What is it?
CHEBUTIKIN. Nothing... I don’t know how to tell you.... [Whispers to
her.]
OLGA. [Frightened] It can’t be true!
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?
Page 175
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. The Baron was killed in the duel just now.
IRINA. [Cries softly] I knew it, I knew it....
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!
[The three sisters are standing, pressing against one another.]
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.]
you, dear....
IRINA. What is it? Tell me quickly, what is it? For God’s sake! [Cries.]
CHEBUTIKIN. The Baron was killed in the duel just now.
IRINA. [Cries softly] I knew it, I knew it....
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!
[The three sisters are standing, pressing against one another.]
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.]
Page 176
CHEBUTIKIN. [Sings softly] “Tara... ra-boom-deay.... It is my washing-
day.”... [Reads a paper] It’s all the same! It’s all the same!
OLGA. If only we could know, if only we could know!
Curtain.
day.”... [Reads a paper] It’s all the same! It’s all the same!
OLGA. If only we could know, if only we could know!
Curtain.
Page 177
THE CHERRY ORCHARD
A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS
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
The action takes place on Mme. RANEVSKY’S estate
A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS
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
The action takes place on Mme. RANEVSKY’S estate
Page 178
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. The train’s arrived, thank God. What’s the time?
DUNYASHA. It will soon be two. [Blows out candle] It is light already.
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. I thought you’d gone away. [Listening] I think I hear them
coming.
LOPAKHIN. [Listens] No.... They’ve got to collect their luggage and so
on.... [Pause] Lubov Andreyevna has been living abroad for five years; I
don’t know what she’ll be like now.... She’s a good sort—an easy, simple
person. I remember when I was a boy of fifteen, my father, who is dead—he
used to keep a shop in the village here—hit me on the face with his fist, and
my nose bled.... We had gone into the yard together for something or other,
and he was a little drunk. Lubov Andreyevna, as I remember her now, was
still young, and very thin, and she took me to the washstand here in this
very room, the nursery. She said, “Don’t cry, little man, it’ll be all right in
time for your wedding.” [Pause] “Little man”.... My father was a peasant,
it’s true, but here I am in a white waistcoat and yellow shoes... a pearl out of
an oyster. I’m rich now, with lots of money, but just think about it and
examine me, and you’ll find I’m still a peasant down to the marrow of my
bones. [Turns over the pages of his book] Here I’ve been reading this book,
but I understood nothing. I read and fell asleep. [Pause.]
[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. The train’s arrived, thank God. What’s the time?
DUNYASHA. It will soon be two. [Blows out candle] It is light already.
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. I thought you’d gone away. [Listening] I think I hear them
coming.
LOPAKHIN. [Listens] No.... They’ve got to collect their luggage and so
on.... [Pause] Lubov Andreyevna has been living abroad for five years; I
don’t know what she’ll be like now.... She’s a good sort—an easy, simple
person. I remember when I was a boy of fifteen, my father, who is dead—he
used to keep a shop in the village here—hit me on the face with his fist, and
my nose bled.... We had gone into the yard together for something or other,
and he was a little drunk. Lubov Andreyevna, as I remember her now, was
still young, and very thin, and she took me to the washstand here in this
very room, the nursery. She said, “Don’t cry, little man, it’ll be all right in
time for your wedding.” [Pause] “Little man”.... My father was a peasant,
it’s true, but here I am in a white waistcoat and yellow shoes... a pearl out of
an oyster. I’m rich now, with lots of money, but just think about it and
examine me, and you’ll find I’m still a peasant down to the marrow of my
bones. [Turns over the pages of his book] Here I’ve been reading this book,
but I understood nothing. I read and fell asleep. [Pause.]
Page 179
DUNYASHA. The dogs didn’t sleep all night; they know that they’re
coming.
LOPAKHIN. What’s up with you, Dunyasha...?
DUNYASHA. My hands are shaking. I shall faint.
LOPAKHIN. You’re too sensitive, Dunyasha. You dress just like a lady, and
you do your hair like one too. You oughtn’t. You should know your place.
EPIKHODOV. [Enters with a bouquet. He wears a short jacket and
brilliantly polished boots which squeak audibly. He drops the bouquet as he
enters, then picks it up] The gardener sent these; says they’re to go into the
dining-room. [Gives the bouquet to DUNYASHA.]
LOPAKHIN. And you’ll bring me some kvass.
DUNYASHA. Very well. [Exit.]
EPIKHODOV. There’s a frost this morning—three degrees, and the cherry-
trees are all in flower. I can’t approve of our climate. [Sighs] I can’t. Our
climate is indisposed to favour us even this once. And, Ermolai
Alexeyevitch, allow me to say to you, in addition, that I bought myself
some boots two days ago, and I beg to assure you that they squeak in a
perfectly unbearable manner. What shall I put on them?
LOPAKHIN. Go away. You bore me.
EPIKHODOV. Some misfortune happens to me every day. But I don’t
complain; I’m used to it, and I can smile. [DUNYASHA comes in and
brings LOPAKHIN some kvass] I shall go. [Knocks over a chair] There....
[Triumphantly] There, you see, if I may use the word, what circumstances I
am in, so to speak. It is even simply marvellous. [Exit.]
DUNYASHA. I may confess to you, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that Epikhodov
has proposed to me.
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
coming.
LOPAKHIN. What’s up with you, Dunyasha...?
DUNYASHA. My hands are shaking. I shall faint.
LOPAKHIN. You’re too sensitive, Dunyasha. You dress just like a lady, and
you do your hair like one too. You oughtn’t. You should know your place.
EPIKHODOV. [Enters with a bouquet. He wears a short jacket and
brilliantly polished boots which squeak audibly. He drops the bouquet as he
enters, then picks it up] The gardener sent these; says they’re to go into the
dining-room. [Gives the bouquet to DUNYASHA.]
LOPAKHIN. And you’ll bring me some kvass.
DUNYASHA. Very well. [Exit.]
EPIKHODOV. There’s a frost this morning—three degrees, and the cherry-
trees are all in flower. I can’t approve of our climate. [Sighs] I can’t. Our
climate is indisposed to favour us even this once. And, Ermolai
Alexeyevitch, allow me to say to you, in addition, that I bought myself
some boots two days ago, and I beg to assure you that they squeak in a
perfectly unbearable manner. What shall I put on them?
LOPAKHIN. Go away. You bore me.
EPIKHODOV. Some misfortune happens to me every day. But I don’t
complain; I’m used to it, and I can smile. [DUNYASHA comes in and
brings LOPAKHIN some kvass] I shall go. [Knocks over a chair] There....
[Triumphantly] There, you see, if I may use the word, what circumstances I
am in, so to speak. It is even simply marvellous. [Exit.]
DUNYASHA. I may confess to you, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that Epikhodov
has proposed to me.
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
Page 180
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.”
LOPAKHIN. [Listens] There they come, I think.
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.
DUNYASHA. [Excited] I shall faint in a minute.... Oh, I’m fainting!
[Two carriages are heard driving up to the house. LOPAKHIN and
DUNYASHA quickly go out. The stage is empty. A noise begins in the next
room. FIERS, leaning on a stick, walks quickly across the stage; he has just
been to meet LUBOV ANDREYEVNA. He wears an old-fashioned livery
and a tall hat. He is saying something to himself, but not a word of it can be
made out. The noise behind the stage gets louder and louder. A voice is
heard: “Let’s go in there.” Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA, ANYA, and
CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA with a little dog on a chain, and all dressed in
travelling clothes, VARYA in a long coat and with a kerchief on her head.
GAEV, SIMEONOV-PISCHIN, LOPAKHIN, DUNYASHA with a parcel
and an umbrella, and a servant with luggage—all cross the room.]
ANYA. Let’s come through here. Do you remember what this room is,
mother?
LUBOV. [Joyfully, through her tears] The nursery!
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.]
man; every day something happens. We tease him about it. They call him
“Two-and-twenty troubles.”
LOPAKHIN. [Listens] There they come, I think.
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.
DUNYASHA. [Excited] I shall faint in a minute.... Oh, I’m fainting!
[Two carriages are heard driving up to the house. LOPAKHIN and
DUNYASHA quickly go out. The stage is empty. A noise begins in the next
room. FIERS, leaning on a stick, walks quickly across the stage; he has just
been to meet LUBOV ANDREYEVNA. He wears an old-fashioned livery
and a tall hat. He is saying something to himself, but not a word of it can be
made out. The noise behind the stage gets louder and louder. A voice is
heard: “Let’s go in there.” Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA, ANYA, and
CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA with a little dog on a chain, and all dressed in
travelling clothes, VARYA in a long coat and with a kerchief on her head.
GAEV, SIMEONOV-PISCHIN, LOPAKHIN, DUNYASHA with a parcel
and an umbrella, and a servant with luggage—all cross the room.]
ANYA. Let’s come through here. Do you remember what this room is,
mother?
LUBOV. [Joyfully, through her tears] The nursery!
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.]
Page 181
GAEV. The train was two hours late. There now; how’s that for
punctuality?
CHARLOTTA. [To PISCHIN] My dog eats nuts too.
PISCHIN. [Astonished] To think of that, now!
[All go out except ANYA and DUNYASHA.]
DUNYASHA. We did have to wait for you!
[Takes off ANYA’S cloak and hat.]
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. [Tired] Something else now...?
DUNYASHA. The clerk, Epikhodov, proposed to me after Easter.
ANYA. Always the same.... [Puts her hair straight] I’ve lost all my
hairpins.... [She is very tired, and even staggers as she walks.]
DUNYASHA. I don’t know what to think about it. He loves me, he loves
me so much!
ANYA. [Looks into her room; in a gentle voice] My room, my windows, as
if I’d never gone away. I’m at home! To-morrow morning I’ll get up and
have a run in the garden....Oh, if I could only get to sleep! I didn’t sleep the
whole journey, I was so bothered.
DUNYASHA. Peter Sergeyevitch came two days ago.
ANYA. [Joyfully] Peter!
DUNYASHA. He sleeps in the bath-house, he lives there. He said he was
afraid he’d be in the way. [Looks at her pocket-watch] I ought to wake him,
but Barbara Mihailovna told me not to. “Don’t wake him,” she said.
punctuality?
CHARLOTTA. [To PISCHIN] My dog eats nuts too.
PISCHIN. [Astonished] To think of that, now!
[All go out except ANYA and DUNYASHA.]
DUNYASHA. We did have to wait for you!
[Takes off ANYA’S cloak and hat.]
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. [Tired] Something else now...?
DUNYASHA. The clerk, Epikhodov, proposed to me after Easter.
ANYA. Always the same.... [Puts her hair straight] I’ve lost all my
hairpins.... [She is very tired, and even staggers as she walks.]
DUNYASHA. I don’t know what to think about it. He loves me, he loves
me so much!
ANYA. [Looks into her room; in a gentle voice] My room, my windows, as
if I’d never gone away. I’m at home! To-morrow morning I’ll get up and
have a run in the garden....Oh, if I could only get to sleep! I didn’t sleep the
whole journey, I was so bothered.
DUNYASHA. Peter Sergeyevitch came two days ago.
ANYA. [Joyfully] Peter!
DUNYASHA. He sleeps in the bath-house, he lives there. He said he was
afraid he’d be in the way. [Looks at her pocket-watch] I ought to wake him,
but Barbara Mihailovna told me not to. “Don’t wake him,” she said.
Page 182
[Enter VARYA, a bunch of keys on her belt.]
VARYA. Dunyasha, some coffee, quick. Mother wants some.
DUNYASHA. This minute. [Exit.]
VARYA. Well, you’ve come, glory be to God. Home again. [Caressing her]
My darling is back again! My pretty one is back again!
ANYA. I did have an awful time, I tell you.
VARYA. I can just imagine it!
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?
VARYA. You couldn’t go alone, darling, at seventeen!
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 abbé 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.
ANYA. How’s business? Has the interest been paid?
VARYA. Not much chance of that.
ANYA. Oh God, oh God...
VARYA. Dunyasha, some coffee, quick. Mother wants some.
DUNYASHA. This minute. [Exit.]
VARYA. Well, you’ve come, glory be to God. Home again. [Caressing her]
My darling is back again! My pretty one is back again!
ANYA. I did have an awful time, I tell you.
VARYA. I can just imagine it!
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?
VARYA. You couldn’t go alone, darling, at seventeen!
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 abbé 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.
ANYA. How’s business? Has the interest been paid?
VARYA. Not much chance of that.
ANYA. Oh God, oh God...
Page 183
VARYA. The place will be sold in August.
ANYA. O God....
LOPAKHIN. [Looks in at the door and moos] Moo!... [Exit.]
VARYA. [Through her tears] I’d like to.... [Shakes her fist.]
ANYA. [Embraces VARYA, softly] Varya, has he proposed to you?
[VARYA shakes head] But he loves you.... Why don’t you make up your
minds? Why do you keep on waiting?
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!
VARYA. My darling’s come back, my pretty one’s come back!
[DUNYASHA has already returned with the coffee-pot and is making the
coffee, VARYA stands near the door] I go about all day, looking after the
house, and I think all the time, if only you could marry a rich man, then I’d
be happy and would go away somewhere by myself, then to Kiev... to
Moscow, and so on, from one holy place to another. I’d tramp and tramp.
That would be splendid!
ANYA. The birds are singing in the garden. What time is it now?
VARYA. It must be getting on for three. Time you went to sleep, darling.
[Goes into ANYA’S room] Splendid!
[Enter YASHA with a plaid shawl and a travelling bag.]
YASHA. [Crossing the stage: Politely] May I go this way?
DUNYASHA. I hardly knew you, Yasha. You have changed abroad.
YASHA. Hm... and who are you?
ANYA. O God....
LOPAKHIN. [Looks in at the door and moos] Moo!... [Exit.]
VARYA. [Through her tears] I’d like to.... [Shakes her fist.]
ANYA. [Embraces VARYA, softly] Varya, has he proposed to you?
[VARYA shakes head] But he loves you.... Why don’t you make up your
minds? Why do you keep on waiting?
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!
VARYA. My darling’s come back, my pretty one’s come back!
[DUNYASHA has already returned with the coffee-pot and is making the
coffee, VARYA stands near the door] I go about all day, looking after the
house, and I think all the time, if only you could marry a rich man, then I’d
be happy and would go away somewhere by myself, then to Kiev... to
Moscow, and so on, from one holy place to another. I’d tramp and tramp.
That would be splendid!
ANYA. The birds are singing in the garden. What time is it now?
VARYA. It must be getting on for three. Time you went to sleep, darling.
[Goes into ANYA’S room] Splendid!
[Enter YASHA with a plaid shawl and a travelling bag.]
YASHA. [Crossing the stage: Politely] May I go this way?
DUNYASHA. I hardly knew you, Yasha. You have changed abroad.
YASHA. Hm... and who are you?
Page 184
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!
YASHA. Oh, you little cucumber!
[Looks round and embraces her. She screams and drops a saucer. YASHA
goes out quickly.]
VARYA. [In the doorway: In an angry voice] What’s that?
DUNYASHA. [Through her tears] I’ve broken a saucer.
VARYA. It may bring luck.
ANYA. [Coming out of her room] We must tell mother that Peter’s here.
VARYA. I told them not to wake him.
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....
[Enter FIERS in a short jacket and white waistcoat.]
FIERS. [Goes to the coffee-pot, nervously] The mistress is going to have
some food here.... [Puts on white gloves] Is the coffee ready? [To
DUNYASHA, severely] You! Where’s the cream?
DUNYASHA. Oh, dear me...! [Rapid exit.]
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.]
VARYA. What are you talking about, Fiers?
FIERS. I beg your pardon? [Joyfully] The mistress is home again. I’ve lived
to see her! Don’t care if I die now.... [Weeps with joy.]
hand] I’m Dunyasha, the daughter of Theodore Kozoyedov. You don’t
remember!
YASHA. Oh, you little cucumber!
[Looks round and embraces her. She screams and drops a saucer. YASHA
goes out quickly.]
VARYA. [In the doorway: In an angry voice] What’s that?
DUNYASHA. [Through her tears] I’ve broken a saucer.
VARYA. It may bring luck.
ANYA. [Coming out of her room] We must tell mother that Peter’s here.
VARYA. I told them not to wake him.
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....
[Enter FIERS in a short jacket and white waistcoat.]
FIERS. [Goes to the coffee-pot, nervously] The mistress is going to have
some food here.... [Puts on white gloves] Is the coffee ready? [To
DUNYASHA, severely] You! Where’s the cream?
DUNYASHA. Oh, dear me...! [Rapid exit.]
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.]
VARYA. What are you talking about, Fiers?
FIERS. I beg your pardon? [Joyfully] The mistress is home again. I’ve lived
to see her! Don’t care if I die now.... [Weeps with joy.]
Page 185
[Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA, GAEV, LOPAKHIN, and SIMEONOV-
PISCHIN, the latter in a long jacket of thin cloth and loose trousers. GAEV,
coming in, moves his arms and body about as if he is playing billiards.]
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.
LOPAKHIN. Yes, time does go.
GAEV. Who does?
LOPAKHIN. I said that time does go.
GAEV. It smells of patchouli here.
ANYA. I’m going to bed. Good-night, mother. [Kisses her.]
LUBOV. My lovely little one. [Kisses her hand] Glad to be at home? I can’t
get over it.
ANYA. Good-night, uncle.
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.]
LUBOV. She’s awfully tired.
PISCHIN. It’s a very long journey.
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.]
VARYA. I’ll go and see if they’ve brought in all the luggage. [Exit.]
PISCHIN, the latter in a long jacket of thin cloth and loose trousers. GAEV,
coming in, moves his arms and body about as if he is playing billiards.]
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.
LOPAKHIN. Yes, time does go.
GAEV. Who does?
LOPAKHIN. I said that time does go.
GAEV. It smells of patchouli here.
ANYA. I’m going to bed. Good-night, mother. [Kisses her.]
LUBOV. My lovely little one. [Kisses her hand] Glad to be at home? I can’t
get over it.
ANYA. Good-night, uncle.
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.]
LUBOV. She’s awfully tired.
PISCHIN. It’s a very long journey.
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.]
VARYA. I’ll go and see if they’ve brought in all the luggage. [Exit.]
Page 186
LUBOV. Is it really I who am sitting here? [Laughs] I want to jump about
and wave my arms. [Covers her face with her hands] But suppose I’m
dreaming! God knows I love my own country, I love it deeply; I couldn’t
look out of the railway carriage, I cried so much. [Through her tears] Still, I
must have my coffee. Thank you, Fiers. Thank you, dear old man. I’m so
glad you’re still with us.
FIERS. The day before yesterday.
GAEV. He doesn’t hear well.
LOPAKHIN. I’ve got to go off to Kharkov by the five o’clock train. I’m
awfully sorry! I should like to have a look at you, to gossip a little. You’re
as fine-looking as ever.
PISCHIN. [Breathes heavily] Even finer-looking... dressed in Paris
fashions... confound it all.
LOPAKHIN. Your brother, Leonid Andreyevitch, says I’m a snob, a usurer,
but that is absolutely nothing to me. Let him talk. Only I do wish you would
believe in me as you once did, that your wonderful, touching eyes would
look at me as they did before. Merciful God! My father was the serf of your
grandfather and your own father, but you—you more than anybody else—
did so much for me once upon a time that I’ve forgotten everything and
love you as if you belonged to my family... and even more.
LUBOV. I can’t sit still, I’m not in a state to do it. [Jumps up and walks
about in great excitement] I’ll never survive this happiness.... You can laugh
at me; I’m a silly woman.... My dear little cupboard. [Kisses cupboard] My
little table.
GAEV. Nurse has died in your absence.
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.]
PISCHIN. My daughter, Dashenka, sends her love.
and wave my arms. [Covers her face with her hands] But suppose I’m
dreaming! God knows I love my own country, I love it deeply; I couldn’t
look out of the railway carriage, I cried so much. [Through her tears] Still, I
must have my coffee. Thank you, Fiers. Thank you, dear old man. I’m so
glad you’re still with us.
FIERS. The day before yesterday.
GAEV. He doesn’t hear well.
LOPAKHIN. I’ve got to go off to Kharkov by the five o’clock train. I’m
awfully sorry! I should like to have a look at you, to gossip a little. You’re
as fine-looking as ever.
PISCHIN. [Breathes heavily] Even finer-looking... dressed in Paris
fashions... confound it all.
LOPAKHIN. Your brother, Leonid Andreyevitch, says I’m a snob, a usurer,
but that is absolutely nothing to me. Let him talk. Only I do wish you would
believe in me as you once did, that your wonderful, touching eyes would
look at me as they did before. Merciful God! My father was the serf of your
grandfather and your own father, but you—you more than anybody else—
did so much for me once upon a time that I’ve forgotten everything and
love you as if you belonged to my family... and even more.
LUBOV. I can’t sit still, I’m not in a state to do it. [Jumps up and walks
about in great excitement] I’ll never survive this happiness.... You can laugh
at me; I’m a silly woman.... My dear little cupboard. [Kisses cupboard] My
little table.
GAEV. Nurse has died in your absence.
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.]
PISCHIN. My daughter, Dashenka, sends her love.
Page 187
LOPAKHIN. I want to say something very pleasant, very delightful, to you.
[Looks at his watch] I’m going away at once, I haven’t much time... but I’ll
tell you all about it in two or three words. As you already know, your cherry
orchard is to be sold to pay your debts, and the sale is fixed for August 22;
but you needn’t be alarmed, dear madam, you may sleep in peace; there’s a
way out. Here’s my plan. Please attend carefully! Your estate is only
thirteen miles from the town, the railway runs by, and if the cherry orchard
and the land by the river are broken up into building lots and are then leased
off for villas you’ll get at least twenty-five thousand roubles a year profit
out of it.
GAEV. How utterly absurd!
LUBOV. I don’t understand you at all, Ermolai Alexeyevitch.
LOPAKHIN. You will get twenty-five roubles a year for each dessiatin
from the leaseholders at the very least, and if you advertise now I’m willing
to bet that you won’t have a vacant plot left by the autumn; they’ll all go. In
a word, you’re saved. I congratulate you. Only, of course, you’ll have to put
things straight, and clean up.... For instance, you’ll have to pull down all the
old buildings, this house, which isn’t any use to anybody now, and cut down
the old cherry orchard....
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.
GAEV. This orchard is mentioned in the “Encyclopaedic Dictionary.”
LOPAKHIN. [Looks at his watch] If we can’t think of anything and don’t
make up our minds to anything, then on August 22, both the cherry orchard
and the whole estate will be up for auction. Make up your mind! I swear
there’s no other way out, I’ll swear it again.
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
[Looks at his watch] I’m going away at once, I haven’t much time... but I’ll
tell you all about it in two or three words. As you already know, your cherry
orchard is to be sold to pay your debts, and the sale is fixed for August 22;
but you needn’t be alarmed, dear madam, you may sleep in peace; there’s a
way out. Here’s my plan. Please attend carefully! Your estate is only
thirteen miles from the town, the railway runs by, and if the cherry orchard
and the land by the river are broken up into building lots and are then leased
off for villas you’ll get at least twenty-five thousand roubles a year profit
out of it.
GAEV. How utterly absurd!
LUBOV. I don’t understand you at all, Ermolai Alexeyevitch.
LOPAKHIN. You will get twenty-five roubles a year for each dessiatin
from the leaseholders at the very least, and if you advertise now I’m willing
to bet that you won’t have a vacant plot left by the autumn; they’ll all go. In
a word, you’re saved. I congratulate you. Only, of course, you’ll have to put
things straight, and clean up.... For instance, you’ll have to pull down all the
old buildings, this house, which isn’t any use to anybody now, and cut down
the old cherry orchard....
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.
GAEV. This orchard is mentioned in the “Encyclopaedic Dictionary.”
LOPAKHIN. [Looks at his watch] If we can’t think of anything and don’t
make up our minds to anything, then on August 22, both the cherry orchard
and the whole estate will be up for auction. Make up your mind! I swear
there’s no other way out, I’ll swear it again.
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
Page 188
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....
LUBOV. What was the way?
FIERS. They’ve forgotten. Nobody remembers.
PISCHIN. [To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] What about Paris? Eh? Did you
eat frogs?
LUBOV. I ate crocodiles.
PISCHIN. To think of that, now.
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....
GAEV. [Angry] What rot!
[Enter VARYA and YASHA.]
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. 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....
LUBOV. What was the way?
FIERS. They’ve forgotten. Nobody remembers.
PISCHIN. [To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] What about Paris? Eh? Did you
eat frogs?
LUBOV. I ate crocodiles.
PISCHIN. To think of that, now.
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....
GAEV. [Angry] What rot!
[Enter VARYA and YASHA.]
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.
Page 189
PISCHIN. [Astonished] A hundred years.... Think of that!
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.]
LOPAKHIN. Yes....
LUBOV. You’re just the same as ever, Leon.
GAEV. [A little confused] Off the white on the right, into the corner pocket.
Red ball goes into the middle pocket!
LOPAKHIN. [Looks at his watch] It’s time I went.
YASHA. [Giving LUBOV ANDREYEVNA her medicine] Will you take
your pills now?
PISCHIN. You oughtn’t to take medicines, dear madam; they do you neither
harm nor good.... Give them here, dear madam. [Takes the pills, turns them
out into the palm of his hand, blows on them, puts them into his mouth, and
drinks some kvass] There!
LUBOV. [Frightened] You’re off your head!
PISCHIN. I’ve taken all the pills.
LOPAKHIN. Gormandizer! [All laugh.]
FIERS. They were here in Easter week and ate half a pailful of
cucumbers.... [Mumbles.]
LUBOV. What’s he driving at?
VARYA. He’s been mumbling away for three years. We’re used to that.
YASHA. Senile decay.
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.]
LOPAKHIN. Yes....
LUBOV. You’re just the same as ever, Leon.
GAEV. [A little confused] Off the white on the right, into the corner pocket.
Red ball goes into the middle pocket!
LOPAKHIN. [Looks at his watch] It’s time I went.
YASHA. [Giving LUBOV ANDREYEVNA her medicine] Will you take
your pills now?
PISCHIN. You oughtn’t to take medicines, dear madam; they do you neither
harm nor good.... Give them here, dear madam. [Takes the pills, turns them
out into the palm of his hand, blows on them, puts them into his mouth, and
drinks some kvass] There!
LUBOV. [Frightened] You’re off your head!
PISCHIN. I’ve taken all the pills.
LOPAKHIN. Gormandizer! [All laugh.]
FIERS. They were here in Easter week and ate half a pailful of
cucumbers.... [Mumbles.]
LUBOV. What’s he driving at?
VARYA. He’s been mumbling away for three years. We’re used to that.
YASHA. Senile decay.
Page 190
[CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA crosses the stage, dressed in white: she is very
thin and tightly laced; has a lorgnette at her waist.]
LOPAKHIN. Excuse me, Charlotta Ivanovna, I haven’t said “How do you
do” to you yet. [Tries to kiss her hand.]
CHARLOTTA. [Takes her hand away] If you let people kiss your hand,
then they’ll want your elbow, then your shoulder, and then...
LOPAKHIN. My luck’s out to-day! [All laugh] Show us a trick, Charlotta
Ivanovna!
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA. Charlotta, do us a trick.
CHARLOTTA. It’s not necessary. I want to go to bed. [Exit.]
LOPAKHIN. We shall see each other in three weeks. [Kisses LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA’S hand] Now, good-bye. It’s time to go. [To GAEV] See
you again. [Kisses PISCHIN] Au revoir. [Gives his hand to VARYA, then to
FIERS and to YASHA] I don’t want to go away. [To LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA]. If you think about the villas and make up your mind,
then just let me know, and I’ll raise a loan of 50,000 roubles at once. Think
about it seriously.
VARYA. [Angrily] Do go, now!
LOPAKHIN. I’m going, I’m going.... [Exit.]
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...
VARYA. [Frightened] We haven’t got it, we haven’t got it!
thin and tightly laced; has a lorgnette at her waist.]
LOPAKHIN. Excuse me, Charlotta Ivanovna, I haven’t said “How do you
do” to you yet. [Tries to kiss her hand.]
CHARLOTTA. [Takes her hand away] If you let people kiss your hand,
then they’ll want your elbow, then your shoulder, and then...
LOPAKHIN. My luck’s out to-day! [All laugh] Show us a trick, Charlotta
Ivanovna!
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA. Charlotta, do us a trick.
CHARLOTTA. It’s not necessary. I want to go to bed. [Exit.]
LOPAKHIN. We shall see each other in three weeks. [Kisses LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA’S hand] Now, good-bye. It’s time to go. [To GAEV] See
you again. [Kisses PISCHIN] Au revoir. [Gives his hand to VARYA, then to
FIERS and to YASHA] I don’t want to go away. [To LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA]. If you think about the villas and make up your mind,
then just let me know, and I’ll raise a loan of 50,000 roubles at once. Think
about it seriously.
VARYA. [Angrily] Do go, now!
LOPAKHIN. I’m going, I’m going.... [Exit.]
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...
VARYA. [Frightened] We haven’t got it, we haven’t got it!
Page 191
LUBOV. It’s quite true. I’ve nothing at all.
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.
LUBOV. The coffee’s all gone, we can go to bed.
FIERS. [Brushing GAEV’S trousers; in an insistent tone] You’ve put on the
wrong trousers again. What am I to do with you?
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?
LUBOV. [Looks out into the garden] Oh, my childhood, days of my
innocence! In this nursery I used to sleep; I used to look out from here into
the orchard. Happiness used to wake with me every morning, and then it
was just as it is now; nothing has changed. [Laughs from joy] It’s all, all
white! Oh, my orchard! After the dark autumns and the cold winters, you’re
young again, full of happiness, the angels of heaven haven’t left you.... If
only I could take my heavy burden off my breast and shoulders, if I could
forget my past!
GAEV. Yes, and they’ll sell this orchard to pay off debts. How strange it
seems!
LUBOV. Look, there’s my dead mother going in the orchard... dressed in
white! [Laughs from joy] That’s she.
GAEV. Where?
VARYA. God bless you, little mother.
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.
LUBOV. The coffee’s all gone, we can go to bed.
FIERS. [Brushing GAEV’S trousers; in an insistent tone] You’ve put on the
wrong trousers again. What am I to do with you?
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?
LUBOV. [Looks out into the garden] Oh, my childhood, days of my
innocence! In this nursery I used to sleep; I used to look out from here into
the orchard. Happiness used to wake with me every morning, and then it
was just as it is now; nothing has changed. [Laughs from joy] It’s all, all
white! Oh, my orchard! After the dark autumns and the cold winters, you’re
young again, full of happiness, the angels of heaven haven’t left you.... If
only I could take my heavy burden off my breast and shoulders, if I could
forget my past!
GAEV. Yes, and they’ll sell this orchard to pay off debts. How strange it
seems!
LUBOV. Look, there’s my dead mother going in the orchard... dressed in
white! [Laughs from joy] That’s she.
GAEV. Where?
VARYA. God bless you, little mother.
Page 192
LUBOV. There’s nobody there; I thought I saw somebody. On the right, at
the turning by the summer-house, a white little tree bent down, looking just
like a woman. [Enter TROFIMOV in a worn student uniform and
spectacles] What a marvellous garden! White masses of flowers, the blue
sky....
TROFIMOV. Lubov Andreyevna! [She looks round at him] I only want to
show myself, and I’ll go away. [Kisses her hand warmly] I was told to wait
till the morning, but I didn’t have the patience.
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA looks surprised.]
VARYA. [Crying] It’s Peter Trofimov.
TROFIMOV. Peter Trofimov, once the tutor of your Grisha.... Have I
changed so much?
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA embraces him and cries softly.]
GAEV. [Confused] That’s enough, that’s enough, Luba.
VARYA. [Weeps] But I told you, Peter, to wait till to-morrow.
LUBOV. My Grisha... my boy... Grisha... my son.
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. [Still weeping] My boy’s dead; he was drowned. Why? Why, my
friend? [Softly] Anya’s asleep in there. I am speaking so loudly, making
such a noise.... Well, Peter? What’s made you look so bad? Why have you
grown so old?
TROFIMOV. In the train an old woman called me a decayed gentleman.
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.]
TROFIMOV. I suppose I shall always be a student.
the turning by the summer-house, a white little tree bent down, looking just
like a woman. [Enter TROFIMOV in a worn student uniform and
spectacles] What a marvellous garden! White masses of flowers, the blue
sky....
TROFIMOV. Lubov Andreyevna! [She looks round at him] I only want to
show myself, and I’ll go away. [Kisses her hand warmly] I was told to wait
till the morning, but I didn’t have the patience.
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA looks surprised.]
VARYA. [Crying] It’s Peter Trofimov.
TROFIMOV. Peter Trofimov, once the tutor of your Grisha.... Have I
changed so much?
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA embraces him and cries softly.]
GAEV. [Confused] That’s enough, that’s enough, Luba.
VARYA. [Weeps] But I told you, Peter, to wait till to-morrow.
LUBOV. My Grisha... my boy... Grisha... my son.
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. [Still weeping] My boy’s dead; he was drowned. Why? Why, my
friend? [Softly] Anya’s asleep in there. I am speaking so loudly, making
such a noise.... Well, Peter? What’s made you look so bad? Why have you
grown so old?
TROFIMOV. In the train an old woman called me a decayed gentleman.
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.]
TROFIMOV. I suppose I shall always be a student.
Page 193
LUBOV. [Kisses her brother, then VARYA] Well, let’s go to bed.... And
you’ve grown older, Leonid.
PISCHIN. [Follows her] Yes, we’ve got to go to bed.... Oh, my gout! I’ll
stay the night here. If only, Lubov Andreyevna, my dear, you could get me
240 roubles to-morrow morning—
GAEV. Still the same story.
PISCHIN. Two hundred and forty roubles... to pay the interest on the
mortgage.
LUBOV. I haven’t any money, dear man.
PISCHIN. I’ll give it back... it’s a small sum....
LUBOV. Well, then, Leonid will give it to you.... Let him have it, Leonid.
GAEV. By all means; hold out your hand.
LUBOV. Why not? He wants it; he’ll give it back.
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA, TROFIMOV, PISCHIN, and FIERS go out.
GAEV, VARYA, and YASHA remain.]
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.
GAEV. Really? [To VARYA] What’s he saying?
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. Bless the woman!
VARYA. Shameless man.
YASHA. A lot of use there is in her coming. She might have come
tomorrow just as well. [Exit.]
you’ve grown older, Leonid.
PISCHIN. [Follows her] Yes, we’ve got to go to bed.... Oh, my gout! I’ll
stay the night here. If only, Lubov Andreyevna, my dear, you could get me
240 roubles to-morrow morning—
GAEV. Still the same story.
PISCHIN. Two hundred and forty roubles... to pay the interest on the
mortgage.
LUBOV. I haven’t any money, dear man.
PISCHIN. I’ll give it back... it’s a small sum....
LUBOV. Well, then, Leonid will give it to you.... Let him have it, Leonid.
GAEV. By all means; hold out your hand.
LUBOV. Why not? He wants it; he’ll give it back.
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA, TROFIMOV, PISCHIN, and FIERS go out.
GAEV, VARYA, and YASHA remain.]
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.
GAEV. Really? [To VARYA] What’s he saying?
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. Bless the woman!
VARYA. Shameless man.
YASHA. A lot of use there is in her coming. She might have come
tomorrow just as well. [Exit.]
Page 194
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.
VARYA. [Weeps] If only God helped us.
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.
VARYA. [Whispers] Anya’s in the doorway.
GAEV. Really? [Pause] It’s curious, something’s got into my right eye... I
can’t see properly out of it. And on Thursday, when I was at the District
Court...
[Enter ANYA.]
VARYA. Why aren’t you in bed, Anya?
ANYA. Can’t sleep. It’s no good.
GAEV. My darling! [Kisses ANYA’S face and hands] My child.... [Crying]
You’re not my niece, you’re my angel, you’re my all.... Believe in me,
believe...
ANYA. I do believe in you, uncle. Everybody loves you and respects you...
but, uncle dear, you ought to say nothing, no more than that. What were you
saying just now about my mother, your own sister? Why did you say those
things?
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.
VARYA. [Weeps] If only God helped us.
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.
VARYA. [Whispers] Anya’s in the doorway.
GAEV. Really? [Pause] It’s curious, something’s got into my right eye... I
can’t see properly out of it. And on Thursday, when I was at the District
Court...
[Enter ANYA.]
VARYA. Why aren’t you in bed, Anya?
ANYA. Can’t sleep. It’s no good.
GAEV. My darling! [Kisses ANYA’S face and hands] My child.... [Crying]
You’re not my niece, you’re my angel, you’re my all.... Believe in me,
believe...
ANYA. I do believe in you, uncle. Everybody loves you and respects you...
but, uncle dear, you ought to say nothing, no more than that. What were you
saying just now about my mother, your own sister? Why did you say those
things?
Page 195
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.
ANYA. You’d be so much happier in yourself if you only kept quiet.
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.
VARYA. If only God would help us!
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.]
FIERS. [Reproachfully] Leonid Andreyevitch, don’t you fear God? When
are you going to bed?
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....
ANYA. You’re doing it again, uncle!
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.
ANYA. You’d be so much happier in yourself if you only kept quiet.
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.
VARYA. If only God would help us!
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.]
FIERS. [Reproachfully] Leonid Andreyevitch, don’t you fear God? When
are you going to bed?
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....
ANYA. You’re doing it again, uncle!
Page 196
VARYA. Be quiet, uncle!
FIERS. [Angrily] Leonid Andreyevitch!
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. I’m quieter now. I don’t want to go to Yaroslav, I don’t like
grandmother; but I’m calm now; thanks to uncle. [Sits down.]
VARYA. It’s time to go to sleep. I’ll go. There’s been an unpleasantness
here while you were away. In the old servants’ part of the house, as you
know, only the old people live—little old Efim and Polya and Evstigney,
and Karp as well. They started letting some tramps or other spend the night
there—I said nothing. Then I heard that they were saying that I had ordered
them to be fed on peas and nothing else; from meanness, you see.... And it
was all Evstigney’s doing.... Very well, I thought, if that’s what the matter
is, just you wait. So I call Evstigney.... [Yawns] He comes. “What’s this,” I
say, “Evstigney, you old fool.”... [Looks at ANYA] Anya dear! [Pause]
She’s dropped off.... [Takes ANYA’S arm] Let’s go to bye-bye.... Come
along!... [Leads her] My darling’s gone to sleep! Come on.... [They go. In
the distance, the other side of the orchard, a shepherd plays his pipe.
TROFIMOV crosses the stage and stops on seeing VARYA and ANYA] Sh!
She’s asleep, asleep. Come on, dear.
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.]
TROFIMOV. [Moved] My sun! My spring!
Curtain.
FIERS. [Angrily] Leonid Andreyevitch!
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. I’m quieter now. I don’t want to go to Yaroslav, I don’t like
grandmother; but I’m calm now; thanks to uncle. [Sits down.]
VARYA. It’s time to go to sleep. I’ll go. There’s been an unpleasantness
here while you were away. In the old servants’ part of the house, as you
know, only the old people live—little old Efim and Polya and Evstigney,
and Karp as well. They started letting some tramps or other spend the night
there—I said nothing. Then I heard that they were saying that I had ordered
them to be fed on peas and nothing else; from meanness, you see.... And it
was all Evstigney’s doing.... Very well, I thought, if that’s what the matter
is, just you wait. So I call Evstigney.... [Yawns] He comes. “What’s this,” I
say, “Evstigney, you old fool.”... [Looks at ANYA] Anya dear! [Pause]
She’s dropped off.... [Takes ANYA’S arm] Let’s go to bye-bye.... Come
along!... [Leads her] My darling’s gone to sleep! Come on.... [They go. In
the distance, the other side of the orchard, a shepherd plays his pipe.
TROFIMOV crosses the stage and stops on seeing VARYA and ANYA] Sh!
She’s asleep, asleep. Come on, dear.
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.]
TROFIMOV. [Moved] My sun! My spring!
Curtain.
Page 197
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.]
CHARLOTTA. [Thoughtfully] I haven’t a real passport. I don’t know how
old I am, and I think I’m young. When I was a little girl my father and
mother used to go round fairs and give very good performances and I used
to do the salto mortale and various little things. And when papa and
mamma died a German lady took me to her and began to teach me. I liked
it. I grew up and became a governess. And where I came from and who I
am, I don’t know.... Who my parents were—perhaps they weren’t married
—I don’t know. [Takes a cucumber out of her pocket and eats] I don’t know
anything. [Pause] I do want to talk, but I haven’t anybody to talk to... I
haven’t anybody at all.
EPIKHODOV. [Plays on the guitar and sings]
“What is this noisy earth to me,
What matter friends and foes?”
I do like playing on the mandoline!
DUNYASHA. That’s a guitar, not a mandoline. [Looks at herself in a little
mirror and powders herself.]
EPIKHODOV. For the enamoured madman, this is a mandoline. [Sings]
“Oh that the heart was warmed,
By all the flames of love returned!”
[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.]
CHARLOTTA. [Thoughtfully] I haven’t a real passport. I don’t know how
old I am, and I think I’m young. When I was a little girl my father and
mother used to go round fairs and give very good performances and I used
to do the salto mortale and various little things. And when papa and
mamma died a German lady took me to her and began to teach me. I liked
it. I grew up and became a governess. And where I came from and who I
am, I don’t know.... Who my parents were—perhaps they weren’t married
—I don’t know. [Takes a cucumber out of her pocket and eats] I don’t know
anything. [Pause] I do want to talk, but I haven’t anybody to talk to... I
haven’t anybody at all.
EPIKHODOV. [Plays on the guitar and sings]
“What is this noisy earth to me,
What matter friends and foes?”
I do like playing on the mandoline!
DUNYASHA. That’s a guitar, not a mandoline. [Looks at herself in a little
mirror and powders herself.]
EPIKHODOV. For the enamoured madman, this is a mandoline. [Sings]
“Oh that the heart was warmed,
By all the flames of love returned!”
Page 198
[YASHA sings too.]
CHARLOTTA. These people sing terribly.... Foo! Like jackals.
DUNYASHA. [To YASHA] Still, it must be nice to live abroad.
YASHA. Yes, certainly. I cannot differ from you there. [Yawns and lights a
cigar.]
EPIKHODOV. That is perfectly natural. Abroad everything is in full
complexity.
YASHA. That goes without saying.
EPIKHODOV. I’m an educated man, I read various remarkable books, but I
cannot understand the direction I myself want to go—whether to live or to
shoot myself, as it were. So, in case, I always carry a revolver about with
me. Here it is. [Shows a revolver.]
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.]
EPIKHODOV. As a matter of fact, independently of everything else, I must
express my feeling, among other things, that fate has been as pitiless in her
dealings with me as a storm is to a small ship. Suppose, let us grant, I am
wrong; then why did I wake up this morning, to give an example, and
behold an enormous spider on my chest, like that. [Shows with both hands]
And if I do drink some kvass, why is it that there is bound to be something
of the most indelicate nature in it, such as a beetle? [Pause] Have you read
Buckle? [Pause] I should like to trouble you, Avdotya Fedorovna, for two
words.
DUNYASHA. Say on.
EPIKHODOV. I should prefer to be alone with you. [Sighs.]
DUNYASHA. [Shy] Very well, only first bring me my little cloak.... It’s by
the cupboard. It’s a little damp here.
CHARLOTTA. These people sing terribly.... Foo! Like jackals.
DUNYASHA. [To YASHA] Still, it must be nice to live abroad.
YASHA. Yes, certainly. I cannot differ from you there. [Yawns and lights a
cigar.]
EPIKHODOV. That is perfectly natural. Abroad everything is in full
complexity.
YASHA. That goes without saying.
EPIKHODOV. I’m an educated man, I read various remarkable books, but I
cannot understand the direction I myself want to go—whether to live or to
shoot myself, as it were. So, in case, I always carry a revolver about with
me. Here it is. [Shows a revolver.]
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.]
EPIKHODOV. As a matter of fact, independently of everything else, I must
express my feeling, among other things, that fate has been as pitiless in her
dealings with me as a storm is to a small ship. Suppose, let us grant, I am
wrong; then why did I wake up this morning, to give an example, and
behold an enormous spider on my chest, like that. [Shows with both hands]
And if I do drink some kvass, why is it that there is bound to be something
of the most indelicate nature in it, such as a beetle? [Pause] Have you read
Buckle? [Pause] I should like to trouble you, Avdotya Fedorovna, for two
words.
DUNYASHA. Say on.
EPIKHODOV. I should prefer to be alone with you. [Sighs.]
DUNYASHA. [Shy] Very well, only first bring me my little cloak.... It’s by
the cupboard. It’s a little damp here.
Page 199
EPIKHODOV. Very well... I’ll bring it.... Now I know what to do with my
revolver. [Takes guitar and exits, strumming.]
YASHA. Two-and-twenty troubles! A silly man, between you and me and
the gatepost. [Yawns.]
DUNYASHA. I hope to goodness he won’t shoot himself. [Pause] I’m so
nervous, I’m worried. I went into service when I was quite a little girl, and
now I’m not used to common life, and my hands are white, white as a
lady’s. I’m so tender and so delicate now; respectable and afraid of
everything.... I’m so frightened. And I don’t know what will happen to my
nerves if you deceive me, Yasha.
YASHA. [Kisses her] Little cucumber! Of course, every girl must respect
herself; there’s nothing I dislike more than a badly behaved girl.
DUNYASHA. I’m awfully in love with you; you’re educated, you can talk
about everything. [Pause.]
YASHA. [Yawns] Yes. I think this: if a girl loves anybody, then that means
she’s immoral. [Pause] It’s nice to smoke a cigar out in the open air....
[Listens] Somebody’s coming. It’s the mistress, and people with her.
[DUNYASHA embraces him suddenly] Go to the house, as if you’d been
bathing in the river; go by this path, or they’ll meet you and will think I’ve
been meeting you. I can’t stand that sort of thing.
DUNYASHA. [Coughs quietly] My head’s aching because of your cigar.
[Exit. YASHA remains, sitting by the shrine. Enter LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA, GAEV, and LOPAKHIN.]
LOPAKHIN. You must make up your mind definitely—there’s no time to
waste. The question is perfectly plain. Are you willing to let the land for
villas or no? Just one word, yes or no? Just one word!
LUBOV. Who’s smoking horrible cigars here? [Sits.]
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.
revolver. [Takes guitar and exits, strumming.]
YASHA. Two-and-twenty troubles! A silly man, between you and me and
the gatepost. [Yawns.]
DUNYASHA. I hope to goodness he won’t shoot himself. [Pause] I’m so
nervous, I’m worried. I went into service when I was quite a little girl, and
now I’m not used to common life, and my hands are white, white as a
lady’s. I’m so tender and so delicate now; respectable and afraid of
everything.... I’m so frightened. And I don’t know what will happen to my
nerves if you deceive me, Yasha.
YASHA. [Kisses her] Little cucumber! Of course, every girl must respect
herself; there’s nothing I dislike more than a badly behaved girl.
DUNYASHA. I’m awfully in love with you; you’re educated, you can talk
about everything. [Pause.]
YASHA. [Yawns] Yes. I think this: if a girl loves anybody, then that means
she’s immoral. [Pause] It’s nice to smoke a cigar out in the open air....
[Listens] Somebody’s coming. It’s the mistress, and people with her.
[DUNYASHA embraces him suddenly] Go to the house, as if you’d been
bathing in the river; go by this path, or they’ll meet you and will think I’ve
been meeting you. I can’t stand that sort of thing.
DUNYASHA. [Coughs quietly] My head’s aching because of your cigar.
[Exit. YASHA remains, sitting by the shrine. Enter LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA, GAEV, and LOPAKHIN.]
LOPAKHIN. You must make up your mind definitely—there’s no time to
waste. The question is perfectly plain. Are you willing to let the land for
villas or no? Just one word, yes or no? Just one word!
LUBOV. Who’s smoking horrible cigars here? [Sits.]
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.
Page 200
LUBOV. You’ll have time.
LOPAKHIN. Just one word! [Imploringly] Give me an answer!
GAEV. [Yawns] Really!
LUBOV. [Looks in her purse] I had a lot of money yesterday, but there’s
very little to-day. My poor Varya feeds everybody on milk soup to save
money, in the kitchen the old people only get peas, and I spend recklessly.
[Drops the purse, scattering gold coins] There, they are all over the place.
YASHA. Permit me to pick them up. [Collects the coins.]
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. [Waves his hand] I can’t be cured, that’s obvious.... [Irritably to
YASHA] What’s the matter? Why do you keep twisting about in front of
me?
YASHA. [Laughs] I can’t listen to your voice without laughing.
GAEV. [To his sister] Either he or I...
LUBOV. Go away, Yasha; get out of this....
YASHA. [Gives purse to LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] I’ll go at once. [Hardly
able to keep from laughing] This minute.... [Exit.]
LOPAKHIN. That rich man Deriganov is preparing to buy your estate. They
say he’ll come to the sale himself.
LUBOV. Where did you hear that?
LOPAKHIN. They say so in town.
LOPAKHIN. Just one word! [Imploringly] Give me an answer!
GAEV. [Yawns] Really!
LUBOV. [Looks in her purse] I had a lot of money yesterday, but there’s
very little to-day. My poor Varya feeds everybody on milk soup to save
money, in the kitchen the old people only get peas, and I spend recklessly.
[Drops the purse, scattering gold coins] There, they are all over the place.
YASHA. Permit me to pick them up. [Collects the coins.]
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. [Waves his hand] I can’t be cured, that’s obvious.... [Irritably to
YASHA] What’s the matter? Why do you keep twisting about in front of
me?
YASHA. [Laughs] I can’t listen to your voice without laughing.
GAEV. [To his sister] Either he or I...
LUBOV. Go away, Yasha; get out of this....
YASHA. [Gives purse to LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] I’ll go at once. [Hardly
able to keep from laughing] This minute.... [Exit.]
LOPAKHIN. That rich man Deriganov is preparing to buy your estate. They
say he’ll come to the sale himself.
LUBOV. Where did you hear that?
LOPAKHIN. They say so in town.
Page 201
GAEV. Our Yaroslav aunt has promised to send something, but I don’t
know when or how much.
LOPAKHIN. How much will she send? A hundred thousand roubles? Or
two, perhaps?
LUBOV. I’d be glad of ten or fifteen thousand.
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.
LUBOV. What are we to do? Tell us, what?
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.
LUBOV. Villas and villa residents—it’s so vulgar, excuse me.
GAEV. I entirely agree with you.
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!
LOPAKHIN. Old woman! [Going out.]
LUBOV. [Frightened] No, don’t go away, do stop; be a dear. Please.
Perhaps we’ll find some way out!
LOPAKHIN. What’s the good of trying to think!
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....
know when or how much.
LOPAKHIN. How much will she send? A hundred thousand roubles? Or
two, perhaps?
LUBOV. I’d be glad of ten or fifteen thousand.
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.
LUBOV. What are we to do? Tell us, what?
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.
LUBOV. Villas and villa residents—it’s so vulgar, excuse me.
GAEV. I entirely agree with you.
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!
LOPAKHIN. Old woman! [Going out.]
LUBOV. [Frightened] No, don’t go away, do stop; be a dear. Please.
Perhaps we’ll find some way out!
LOPAKHIN. What’s the good of trying to think!
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....
Page 202
LUBOV. We have been too sinful....
LOPAKHIN. What sins have you committed?
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.]
GAEV. That is our celebrated Jewish band. You remember—four violins, a
flute, and a double-bass.
LUBOV So it still exists? It would be nice if they came along some
evening.
LOPAKHIN. [Listens] I can’t hear.... [Sings quietly] “For money will the
Germans make a Frenchman of a Russian.” [Laughs] I saw such an awfully
funny thing at the theatre last night.
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. What sins have you committed?
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.]
GAEV. That is our celebrated Jewish band. You remember—four violins, a
flute, and a double-bass.
LUBOV So it still exists? It would be nice if they came along some
evening.
LOPAKHIN. [Listens] I can’t hear.... [Sings quietly] “For money will the
Germans make a Frenchman of a Russian.” [Laughs] I saw such an awfully
funny thing at the theatre last night.
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.
Page 203
LOPAKHIN. It’s true. To speak the straight truth, we live a silly life.
[Pause] My father was a peasant, an idiot, he understood nothing, he didn’t
teach me, he was always drunk, and always used a stick on me. In point of
fact, I’m a fool and an idiot too. I’ve never learned anything, my
handwriting is bad, I write so that I’m quite ashamed before people, like a
pig!
LUBOV. You ought to get married, my friend.
LOPAKHIN. Yes... that’s true.
LUBOV. Why not to our Varya? She’s a nice girl.
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.
LOPAKHIN. Well? I don’t mind... she’s a nice girl. [Pause.]
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....
[Enter FIERS with an overcoat.]
FIERS. [To GAEV] Please, sir, put this on, it’s damp.
GAEV. [Putting it on] You’re a nuisance, old man.
FIERS It’s all very well.... You went away this morning without telling me.
[Examining GAEV.]
LUBOV. How old you’ve grown, Fiers!
FIERS. I beg your pardon?
LOPAKHIN. She says you’ve grown very old!
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
[Pause] My father was a peasant, an idiot, he understood nothing, he didn’t
teach me, he was always drunk, and always used a stick on me. In point of
fact, I’m a fool and an idiot too. I’ve never learned anything, my
handwriting is bad, I write so that I’m quite ashamed before people, like a
pig!
LUBOV. You ought to get married, my friend.
LOPAKHIN. Yes... that’s true.
LUBOV. Why not to our Varya? She’s a nice girl.
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.
LOPAKHIN. Well? I don’t mind... she’s a nice girl. [Pause.]
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....
[Enter FIERS with an overcoat.]
FIERS. [To GAEV] Please, sir, put this on, it’s damp.
GAEV. [Putting it on] You’re a nuisance, old man.
FIERS It’s all very well.... You went away this morning without telling me.
[Examining GAEV.]
LUBOV. How old you’ve grown, Fiers!
FIERS. I beg your pardon?
LOPAKHIN. She says you’ve grown very old!
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
Page 204
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.
GAEV. Be quiet, Fiers. I’ve got to go to town tomorrow. I’ve been
promised an introduction to a General who may lend me money on a bill.
LOPAKHIN. Nothing will come of it. And you won’t pay your interest,
don’t you worry.
LUBOV. He’s talking rubbish. There’s no General at all.
[Enter TROFIMOV, ANYA, and VARYA.]
GAEV. Here they are.
ANYA. Mother’s sitting down here.
LUBOV. [Tenderly] Come, come, my dears.... [Embracing ANYA and
VARYA] If you two only knew how much I love you. Sit down next to me,
like that. [All sit down.]
LOPAKHIN. Our eternal student is always with the ladies.
TROFIMOV. That’s not your business.
LOPAKHIN. He’ll soon be fifty, and he’s still a student.
TROFIMOV. Leave off your silly jokes!
LOPAKHIN. Getting angry, eh, silly?
TROFIMOV. Shut up, can’t you.
LOPAKHIN. [Laughs] I wonder what you think of me?
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.
GAEV. Be quiet, Fiers. I’ve got to go to town tomorrow. I’ve been
promised an introduction to a General who may lend me money on a bill.
LOPAKHIN. Nothing will come of it. And you won’t pay your interest,
don’t you worry.
LUBOV. He’s talking rubbish. There’s no General at all.
[Enter TROFIMOV, ANYA, and VARYA.]
GAEV. Here they are.
ANYA. Mother’s sitting down here.
LUBOV. [Tenderly] Come, come, my dears.... [Embracing ANYA and
VARYA] If you two only knew how much I love you. Sit down next to me,
like that. [All sit down.]
LOPAKHIN. Our eternal student is always with the ladies.
TROFIMOV. That’s not your business.
LOPAKHIN. He’ll soon be fifty, and he’s still a student.
TROFIMOV. Leave off your silly jokes!
LOPAKHIN. Getting angry, eh, silly?
TROFIMOV. Shut up, can’t you.
LOPAKHIN. [Laughs] I wonder what you think of me?
Page 205
TROFIMOV. I think, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that you’re a rich man, and
you’ll soon be a millionaire. Just as the wild beast which eats everything it
finds is needed for changes to take place in matter, so you are needed too.
[All laugh.]
VARYA. Better tell us something about the planets, Peter.
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA. No, let’s go on with yesterday’s talk!
TROFIMOV. About what?
GAEV. About the proud man.
TROFIMOV. Yesterday we talked for a long time but we didn’t come to
anything in the end. There’s something mystical about the proud man, in
your sense. Perhaps you are right from your point of view, but if you take
the matter simply, without complicating it, then what pride can there be,
what sense can there be in it, if a man is imperfectly made, physiologically
speaking, if in the vast majority of cases he is coarse and stupid and deeply
unhappy? We must stop admiring one another. We must work, nothing
more.
GAEV. You’ll die, all the same.
TROFIMOV. Who knows? And what does it mean—you’ll die? Perhaps a
man has a hundred senses, and when he dies only the five known to us are
destroyed and the remaining ninety-five are left alive.
LUBOV. How clever of you, Peter!
LOPAKHIN. [Ironically] Oh, awfully!
TROFIMOV. The human race progresses, perfecting its powers. Everything
that is unattainable now will some day be near at hand and comprehensible,
but we must work, we must help with all our strength those who seek to
know what fate will bring. Meanwhile in Russia only a very few of us
work. The vast majority of those intellectuals whom I know seek for
nothing, do nothing, and are at present incapable of hard work. They call
themselves intellectuals, but they use “thou” and “thee” to their servants,
they treat the peasants like animals, they learn badly, they read nothing
you’ll soon be a millionaire. Just as the wild beast which eats everything it
finds is needed for changes to take place in matter, so you are needed too.
[All laugh.]
VARYA. Better tell us something about the planets, Peter.
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA. No, let’s go on with yesterday’s talk!
TROFIMOV. About what?
GAEV. About the proud man.
TROFIMOV. Yesterday we talked for a long time but we didn’t come to
anything in the end. There’s something mystical about the proud man, in
your sense. Perhaps you are right from your point of view, but if you take
the matter simply, without complicating it, then what pride can there be,
what sense can there be in it, if a man is imperfectly made, physiologically
speaking, if in the vast majority of cases he is coarse and stupid and deeply
unhappy? We must stop admiring one another. We must work, nothing
more.
GAEV. You’ll die, all the same.
TROFIMOV. Who knows? And what does it mean—you’ll die? Perhaps a
man has a hundred senses, and when he dies only the five known to us are
destroyed and the remaining ninety-five are left alive.
LUBOV. How clever of you, Peter!
LOPAKHIN. [Ironically] Oh, awfully!
TROFIMOV. The human race progresses, perfecting its powers. Everything
that is unattainable now will some day be near at hand and comprehensible,
but we must work, we must help with all our strength those who seek to
know what fate will bring. Meanwhile in Russia only a very few of us
work. The vast majority of those intellectuals whom I know seek for
nothing, do nothing, and are at present incapable of hard work. They call
themselves intellectuals, but they use “thou” and “thee” to their servants,
they treat the peasants like animals, they learn badly, they read nothing
Page 206
seriously, they do absolutely nothing, about science they only talk, about art
they understand little. They are all serious, they all have severe faces, they
all talk about important things. They philosophize, and at the same time, the
vast majority of us, ninety-nine out of a hundred, live like savages, fighting
and cursing at the slightest opportunity, eating filthily, sleeping in the dirt,
in stuffiness, with fleas, stinks, smells, moral filth, and so on... And it’s
obvious that all our nice talk is only carried on to distract ourselves and
others. Tell me, where are those créches we hear so much of? and where are
those reading-rooms? People only write novels about them; they don’t
really exist. Only dirt, vulgarity, and Asiatic plagues really exist.... I’m
afraid, and I don’t at all like serious faces; I don’t like serious
conversations. Let’s be quiet sooner.
LOPAKHIN. You know, I get up at five every morning, I work from
morning till evening, I am always dealing with money—my own and other
people’s—and I see what people are like. You’ve only got to begin to do
anything to find out how few honest, honourable people there are.
Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I think: “Oh Lord, you’ve given us huge
forests, infinite fields, and endless horizons, and we, living here, ought
really to be giants.”
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.
ANYA. [Thoughtfully] Epikhodov’s there.
GAEV. The sun’s set, ladies and gentlemen.
TROFIMOV. Yes.
GAEV [Not loudly, as if declaiming] O Nature, thou art wonderful, thou
shinest with eternal radiance! Oh, beautiful and indifferent one, thou whom
we call mother, thou containest in thyself existence and death, thou livest
and destroyest....
VARYA. [Entreatingly] Uncle, dear!
ANYA. Uncle, you’re doing it again!
they understand little. They are all serious, they all have severe faces, they
all talk about important things. They philosophize, and at the same time, the
vast majority of us, ninety-nine out of a hundred, live like savages, fighting
and cursing at the slightest opportunity, eating filthily, sleeping in the dirt,
in stuffiness, with fleas, stinks, smells, moral filth, and so on... And it’s
obvious that all our nice talk is only carried on to distract ourselves and
others. Tell me, where are those créches we hear so much of? and where are
those reading-rooms? People only write novels about them; they don’t
really exist. Only dirt, vulgarity, and Asiatic plagues really exist.... I’m
afraid, and I don’t at all like serious faces; I don’t like serious
conversations. Let’s be quiet sooner.
LOPAKHIN. You know, I get up at five every morning, I work from
morning till evening, I am always dealing with money—my own and other
people’s—and I see what people are like. You’ve only got to begin to do
anything to find out how few honest, honourable people there are.
Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I think: “Oh Lord, you’ve given us huge
forests, infinite fields, and endless horizons, and we, living here, ought
really to be giants.”
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.
ANYA. [Thoughtfully] Epikhodov’s there.
GAEV. The sun’s set, ladies and gentlemen.
TROFIMOV. Yes.
GAEV [Not loudly, as if declaiming] O Nature, thou art wonderful, thou
shinest with eternal radiance! Oh, beautiful and indifferent one, thou whom
we call mother, thou containest in thyself existence and death, thou livest
and destroyest....
VARYA. [Entreatingly] Uncle, dear!
ANYA. Uncle, you’re doing it again!
Page 207
TROFIMOV. You’d better double the red into the middle.
GAEV. I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet.
[They all sit thoughtfully. It is quiet. Only the mumbling of FIERS is heard.
Suddenly a distant sound is heard as if from the sky, the sound of a breaking
string, which dies away sadly.]
LUBOV. What’s that?
LOPAKHIN. I don’t know. It may be a bucket fallen down a well
somewhere. But it’s some way off.
GAEV. Or perhaps it’s some bird... like a heron.
TROFIMOV. Or an owl.
LUBOV. [Shudders] It’s unpleasant, somehow. [A pause.]
FIERS. Before the misfortune the same thing happened. An owl screamed
and the samovar hummed without stopping.
GAEV. Before what misfortune?
FIERS. Before the Emancipation. [A pause.]
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.]
ANYA. It’s nothing, mother.
TROFIMOV. Some one’s coming.
[Enter a TRAMP in an old white peaked cap and overcoat. He is a little
drunk.]
TRAMP. Excuse me, may I go this way straight through to the station?
GAEV. You may. Go along this path.
TRAMP. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. [Hiccups] Lovely
weather.... [Declaims] My brother, my suffering brother.... Come out on the
GAEV. I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet.
[They all sit thoughtfully. It is quiet. Only the mumbling of FIERS is heard.
Suddenly a distant sound is heard as if from the sky, the sound of a breaking
string, which dies away sadly.]
LUBOV. What’s that?
LOPAKHIN. I don’t know. It may be a bucket fallen down a well
somewhere. But it’s some way off.
GAEV. Or perhaps it’s some bird... like a heron.
TROFIMOV. Or an owl.
LUBOV. [Shudders] It’s unpleasant, somehow. [A pause.]
FIERS. Before the misfortune the same thing happened. An owl screamed
and the samovar hummed without stopping.
GAEV. Before what misfortune?
FIERS. Before the Emancipation. [A pause.]
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.]
ANYA. It’s nothing, mother.
TROFIMOV. Some one’s coming.
[Enter a TRAMP in an old white peaked cap and overcoat. He is a little
drunk.]
TRAMP. Excuse me, may I go this way straight through to the station?
GAEV. You may. Go along this path.
TRAMP. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. [Hiccups] Lovely
weather.... [Declaims] My brother, my suffering brother.... Come out on the
Page 208
Volga, you whose groans... [To VARYA] Mademoiselle, please give a
hungry Russian thirty copecks....
[VARYA screams, frightened.]
LOPAKHIN. [Angrily] There’s manners everybody’s got to keep!
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. What is to be done with such a fool as I am! At home I’ll give you
everything I’ve got. Ermolai Alexeyevitch, lend me some more!...
LOPAKHIN. Very well.
LUBOV. Let’s go, it’s time. And Varya, we’ve settled your affair; I
congratulate you.
VARYA. [Crying] You shouldn’t joke about this, mother.
LOPAKHIN. Oh, feel me, get thee to a nunnery.
GAEV. My hands are all trembling; I haven’t played billiards for a long
time.
LOPAKHIN. Oh, feel me, nymph, remember me in thine orisons.
LUBOV. Come along; it’ll soon be supper-time.
VARYA. He did frighten me. My heart is beating hard.
LOPAKHIN. Let me remind you, ladies and gentlemen, on August 22 the
cherry orchard will be sold. Think of that!... Think of that!...
[All go out except TROFIMOV and ANYA.]
ANYA. [Laughs] Thanks to the tramp who frightened Barbara, we’re alone
now.
hungry Russian thirty copecks....
[VARYA screams, frightened.]
LOPAKHIN. [Angrily] There’s manners everybody’s got to keep!
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. What is to be done with such a fool as I am! At home I’ll give you
everything I’ve got. Ermolai Alexeyevitch, lend me some more!...
LOPAKHIN. Very well.
LUBOV. Let’s go, it’s time. And Varya, we’ve settled your affair; I
congratulate you.
VARYA. [Crying] You shouldn’t joke about this, mother.
LOPAKHIN. Oh, feel me, get thee to a nunnery.
GAEV. My hands are all trembling; I haven’t played billiards for a long
time.
LOPAKHIN. Oh, feel me, nymph, remember me in thine orisons.
LUBOV. Come along; it’ll soon be supper-time.
VARYA. He did frighten me. My heart is beating hard.
LOPAKHIN. Let me remind you, ladies and gentlemen, on August 22 the
cherry orchard will be sold. Think of that!... Think of that!...
[All go out except TROFIMOV and ANYA.]
ANYA. [Laughs] Thanks to the tramp who frightened Barbara, we’re alone
now.
Page 209
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. [Clapping her hands] How beautifully you talk! [Pause] It is
glorious here to-day!
TROFIMOV. Yes, the weather is wonderful.
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.
TROFIMOV. All Russia is our orchard. The land is great and beautiful,
there are many marvellous places in it. [Pause] Think, Anya, your
grandfather, your great-grandfather, and all your ancestors were serf-
owners, they owned living souls; and now, doesn’t something human look
at you from every cherry in the orchard, every leaf and every stalk? Don’t
you hear voices...? Oh, it’s awful, your orchard is terrible; and when in the
evening or at night you walk through the orchard, then the old bark on the
trees sheds a dim light and the old cherry-trees seem to be dreaming of all
that was a hundred, two hundred years ago, and are oppressed by their
heavy visions. Still, at any rate, we’ve left those two hundred years behind
us. So far we’ve gained nothing at all—we don’t yet know what the past is
to be to us—we only philosophize, we complain that we are dull, or we
drink vodka. For it’s so clear that in order to begin to live in the present we
must first redeem the past, and that can only be done by suffering, by
strenuous, uninterrupted labour. Understand that, Anya.
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.
ANYA. [Enthusiastically] How nicely you said that!
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. [Clapping her hands] How beautifully you talk! [Pause] It is
glorious here to-day!
TROFIMOV. Yes, the weather is wonderful.
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.
TROFIMOV. All Russia is our orchard. The land is great and beautiful,
there are many marvellous places in it. [Pause] Think, Anya, your
grandfather, your great-grandfather, and all your ancestors were serf-
owners, they owned living souls; and now, doesn’t something human look
at you from every cherry in the orchard, every leaf and every stalk? Don’t
you hear voices...? Oh, it’s awful, your orchard is terrible; and when in the
evening or at night you walk through the orchard, then the old bark on the
trees sheds a dim light and the old cherry-trees seem to be dreaming of all
that was a hundred, two hundred years ago, and are oppressed by their
heavy visions. Still, at any rate, we’ve left those two hundred years behind
us. So far we’ve gained nothing at all—we don’t yet know what the past is
to be to us—we only philosophize, we complain that we are dull, or we
drink vodka. For it’s so clear that in order to begin to live in the present we
must first redeem the past, and that can only be done by suffering, by
strenuous, uninterrupted labour. Understand that, Anya.
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.
ANYA. [Enthusiastically] How nicely you said that!
Page 210
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....
ANYA. [Thoughtful] The moon is rising.
[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?”]
TROFIMOV. Yes, the moon has risen. [Pause] There is happiness, there it
comes; it comes nearer and nearer; I hear its steps already. And if we do not
see it we shall not know it, but what does that matter? Others will see it!
THE VOICE OF VARYA. Anya! Where are you?
TROFIMOV. That’s Varya again! [Angry] Disgraceful!
ANYA. Never mind. Let’s go to the river. It’s nice there.
TROFIMOV Let’s go. [They go out.]
THE VOICE OF VARYA. Anya! Anya!
Curtain.
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....
ANYA. [Thoughtful] The moon is rising.
[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?”]
TROFIMOV. Yes, the moon has risen. [Pause] There is happiness, there it
comes; it comes nearer and nearer; I hear its steps already. And if we do not
see it we shall not know it, but what does that matter? Others will see it!
THE VOICE OF VARYA. Anya! Where are you?
TROFIMOV. That’s Varya again! [Angry] Disgraceful!
ANYA. Never mind. Let’s go to the river. It’s nice there.
TROFIMOV Let’s go. [They go out.]
THE VOICE OF VARYA. Anya! Anya!
Curtain.
Page 211
Page 212
ACT THREE
[A reception-room cut off from a drawing-room by an arch. Chandelier
lighted. A Jewish band, the one mentioned in Act II, is heard playing in
another room. Evening. In the drawing-room the grand rond is being
danced. Voice of SIMEONOV PISCHIN “Promenade a une paire!” Dancers
come into the reception-room; the first pair are PISCHIN and
CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA; the second, TROFIMOV and LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA; the third, ANYA and the POST OFFICE CLERK; the
fourth, VARYA and the STATION-MASTER, and so on. VARYA is crying
gently and wipes away her tears as she dances. DUNYASHA is in the last
pair. They go off into the drawing-room, PISCHIN shouting, “Grand rond,
balancez:” and “Les cavaliers à genou et remerciez vos dames!” FIERS, in
a dress-coat, carries a tray with seltzer-water across. Enter PISCHIN and
TROFIMOV from the drawing-room.]
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....
TROFIMOV. Yes. There is something equine about your figure.
PISCHIN. Well... a horse is a fine animal... you can sell a horse.
[Billiard playing can be heard in the next room. VARYA appears under the
arch.]
TROFIMOV. [Teasing] Madame Lopakhin! Madame Lopakhin!
VARYA. [Angry] Decayed gentleman!
TROFIMOV. Yes, I am a decayed gentleman, and I’m proud of it!
[A reception-room cut off from a drawing-room by an arch. Chandelier
lighted. A Jewish band, the one mentioned in Act II, is heard playing in
another room. Evening. In the drawing-room the grand rond is being
danced. Voice of SIMEONOV PISCHIN “Promenade a une paire!” Dancers
come into the reception-room; the first pair are PISCHIN and
CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA; the second, TROFIMOV and LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA; the third, ANYA and the POST OFFICE CLERK; the
fourth, VARYA and the STATION-MASTER, and so on. VARYA is crying
gently and wipes away her tears as she dances. DUNYASHA is in the last
pair. They go off into the drawing-room, PISCHIN shouting, “Grand rond,
balancez:” and “Les cavaliers à genou et remerciez vos dames!” FIERS, in
a dress-coat, carries a tray with seltzer-water across. Enter PISCHIN and
TROFIMOV from the drawing-room.]
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....
TROFIMOV. Yes. There is something equine about your figure.
PISCHIN. Well... a horse is a fine animal... you can sell a horse.
[Billiard playing can be heard in the next room. VARYA appears under the
arch.]
TROFIMOV. [Teasing] Madame Lopakhin! Madame Lopakhin!
VARYA. [Angry] Decayed gentleman!
TROFIMOV. Yes, I am a decayed gentleman, and I’m proud of it!
Page 213
VARYA. [Bitterly] We’ve hired the musicians, but how are they to be paid?
[Exit.]
TROFIMOV. [To PISCHIN] If the energy which you, in the course of your
life, have spent in looking for money to pay interest had been used for
something else, then, I believe, after all, you’d be able to turn everything
upside down.
PISCHIN. Nietzsche... a philosopher... a very great, a most celebrated
man... a man of enormous brain, says in his books that you can forge bank-
notes.
TROFIMOV. And have you read Nietzsche?
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.
[Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA and CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA.]
LUBOV. [Humming a Caucasian dance] Why is Leonid away so long?
What’s he doing in town? [To DUNYASHA] Dunyasha, give the musicians
some tea.
TROFIMOV. Business is off, I suppose.
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. [Gives a pack of cards to PISCHIN] Here’s a pack of cards,
think of any one card you like.
PISCHIN. I’ve thought of one.
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.
[Exit.]
TROFIMOV. [To PISCHIN] If the energy which you, in the course of your
life, have spent in looking for money to pay interest had been used for
something else, then, I believe, after all, you’d be able to turn everything
upside down.
PISCHIN. Nietzsche... a philosopher... a very great, a most celebrated
man... a man of enormous brain, says in his books that you can forge bank-
notes.
TROFIMOV. And have you read Nietzsche?
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.
[Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA and CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA.]
LUBOV. [Humming a Caucasian dance] Why is Leonid away so long?
What’s he doing in town? [To DUNYASHA] Dunyasha, give the musicians
some tea.
TROFIMOV. Business is off, I suppose.
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. [Gives a pack of cards to PISCHIN] Here’s a pack of cards,
think of any one card you like.
PISCHIN. I’ve thought of one.
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.
Page 214
PISCHIN. [Takes a card out of his coat-tail pocket] Eight of spades, quite
right! [Surprised] Think of that now!
CHARLOTTA. [Holds the pack of cards on the palm of her hand. To
TROFIMOV] Now tell me quickly. What’s the top card?
TROFIMOV. Well, the queen of spades.
CHARLOTTA. Right! [To PISCHIN] Well now? What card’s on top?
PISCHIN. Ace of hearts.
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.”]
STATION-MASTER. [Applauds] Madame ventriloquist, bravo!
PISCHIN. [Surprised] Think of that, now! Delightful, Charlotte Ivanovna...
I’m simply in love....
CHARLOTTA. In love? [Shrugging her shoulders] Can you love? Guter
Mensch aber schlechter Musikant.
TROFIMOV. [Slaps PISCHIN on the shoulder] Oh, you horse!
CHARLOTTA. Attention please, here’s another trick. [Takes a shawl from a
chair] Here’s a very nice plaid shawl, I’m going to sell it.... [Shakes it]
Won’t anybody buy it?
PISCHIN. [Astonished] Think of that now!
CHARLOTTA. Ein, zwei, drei.
[She quickly lifts up the shawl, which is hanging down. ANYA is standing
behind it; she bows and runs to her mother, hugs her and runs back to the
drawing-room amid general applause.]
LUBOV. [Applauds] Bravo, bravo!
right! [Surprised] Think of that now!
CHARLOTTA. [Holds the pack of cards on the palm of her hand. To
TROFIMOV] Now tell me quickly. What’s the top card?
TROFIMOV. Well, the queen of spades.
CHARLOTTA. Right! [To PISCHIN] Well now? What card’s on top?
PISCHIN. Ace of hearts.
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.”]
STATION-MASTER. [Applauds] Madame ventriloquist, bravo!
PISCHIN. [Surprised] Think of that, now! Delightful, Charlotte Ivanovna...
I’m simply in love....
CHARLOTTA. In love? [Shrugging her shoulders] Can you love? Guter
Mensch aber schlechter Musikant.
TROFIMOV. [Slaps PISCHIN on the shoulder] Oh, you horse!
CHARLOTTA. Attention please, here’s another trick. [Takes a shawl from a
chair] Here’s a very nice plaid shawl, I’m going to sell it.... [Shakes it]
Won’t anybody buy it?
PISCHIN. [Astonished] Think of that now!
CHARLOTTA. Ein, zwei, drei.
[She quickly lifts up the shawl, which is hanging down. ANYA is standing
behind it; she bows and runs to her mother, hugs her and runs back to the
drawing-room amid general applause.]
LUBOV. [Applauds] Bravo, bravo!
Page 215
CHARLOTTA. Once again! Ein, zwei, drei!
[Lifts the shawl. VARYA stands behind it and bows.]
PISCHIN. [Astonished] Think of that, now.
CHARLOTTA. The end!
[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.
TROFIMOV. [Sarcastically] Oh, yes!
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. Grandmother sent fifteen thousand roubles from Yaroslav to buy
the property in her name—she won’t trust us—and that wasn’t even enough
to pay the interest. [Covers her face with her hands] My fate will be settled
to-day, my fate....
TROFIMOV. [Teasing VARYA] Madame Lopakhin!
VARYA. [Angry] Eternal student! He’s already been expelled twice from
the university.
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.
VARYA. I do look at the matter seriously, little mother, to be quite frank.
He’s a good man, and I like him.
[Lifts the shawl. VARYA stands behind it and bows.]
PISCHIN. [Astonished] Think of that, now.
CHARLOTTA. The end!
[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.
TROFIMOV. [Sarcastically] Oh, yes!
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. Grandmother sent fifteen thousand roubles from Yaroslav to buy
the property in her name—she won’t trust us—and that wasn’t even enough
to pay the interest. [Covers her face with her hands] My fate will be settled
to-day, my fate....
TROFIMOV. [Teasing VARYA] Madame Lopakhin!
VARYA. [Angry] Eternal student! He’s already been expelled twice from
the university.
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.
VARYA. I do look at the matter seriously, little mother, to be quite frank.
He’s a good man, and I like him.
Page 216
LUBOV. Then marry him. I don’t understand what you’re waiting for.
VARYA. I can’t propose to him myself, little mother. People have been
talking about him to me for two years now, but he either says nothing, or
jokes about it. I understand. He’s getting rich, he’s busy, he can’t bother
about me. If I had some money, even a little, even only a hundred roubles,
I’d throw up everything and go away. I’d go into a convent.
TROFIMOV. How nice!
VARYA. [To TROFIMOV] A student ought to have sense! [Gently, in tears]
How ugly you are now, Peter, how old you’ve grown! [To LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA, no longer crying] But I can’t go on without working,
little mother. I want to be doing something every minute.
[Enter YASHA.]
YASHA. [Nearly laughing] Epikhodov’s broken a billiard cue! [Exit.]
VARYA. Why is Epikhodov here? Who said he could play billiards? I don’t
understand these people. [Exit.]
LUBOV. Don’t tease her, Peter, you see that she’s quite unhappy without
that.
TROFIMOV. She takes too much on herself, she keeps on interfering in
other people’s business. The whole summer she’s given no peace to me or
to Anya, she’s afraid we’ll have a romance all to ourselves. What has it to
do with her? As if I’d ever given her grounds to believe I’d stoop to such
vulgarity! We are above love.
LUBOV. Then I suppose I must be beneath love. [In agitation] Why isn’t
Leonid here? If I only knew whether the estate is sold or not! The disaster
seems to me so improbable that I don’t know what to think, I’m all at sea...
I may scream... or do something silly. Save me, Peter. Say something, say
something.
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.
VARYA. I can’t propose to him myself, little mother. People have been
talking about him to me for two years now, but he either says nothing, or
jokes about it. I understand. He’s getting rich, he’s busy, he can’t bother
about me. If I had some money, even a little, even only a hundred roubles,
I’d throw up everything and go away. I’d go into a convent.
TROFIMOV. How nice!
VARYA. [To TROFIMOV] A student ought to have sense! [Gently, in tears]
How ugly you are now, Peter, how old you’ve grown! [To LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA, no longer crying] But I can’t go on without working,
little mother. I want to be doing something every minute.
[Enter YASHA.]
YASHA. [Nearly laughing] Epikhodov’s broken a billiard cue! [Exit.]
VARYA. Why is Epikhodov here? Who said he could play billiards? I don’t
understand these people. [Exit.]
LUBOV. Don’t tease her, Peter, you see that she’s quite unhappy without
that.
TROFIMOV. She takes too much on herself, she keeps on interfering in
other people’s business. The whole summer she’s given no peace to me or
to Anya, she’s afraid we’ll have a romance all to ourselves. What has it to
do with her? As if I’d ever given her grounds to believe I’d stoop to such
vulgarity! We are above love.
LUBOV. Then I suppose I must be beneath love. [In agitation] Why isn’t
Leonid here? If I only knew whether the estate is sold or not! The disaster
seems to me so improbable that I don’t know what to think, I’m all at sea...
I may scream... or do something silly. Save me, Peter. Say something, say
something.
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.
Page 217
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.
TROFIMOV. You know I sympathize with all my soul.
LUBOV. Yes, but it ought to be said differently, differently.... [Takes
another handkerchief, a telegram falls on the floor] I’m so sick at heart to-
day, you can’t imagine. Here it’s so noisy, my soul shakes at every sound. I
shake all over, and I can’t go away by myself, I’m afraid of the silence.
Don’t judge me harshly, Peter... I loved you, as if you belonged to my
family. I’d gladly let Anya marry you, I swear it, only dear, you ought to
work, finish your studies. You don’t do anything, only fate throws you
about from place to place, it’s so odd.... Isn’t it true? Yes? And you ought to
do something to your beard to make it grow better [Laughs] You are funny!
TROFIMOV. [Picking up telegram] I don’t want to be a Beau Brummel.
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...
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.
TROFIMOV. You know I sympathize with all my soul.
LUBOV. Yes, but it ought to be said differently, differently.... [Takes
another handkerchief, a telegram falls on the floor] I’m so sick at heart to-
day, you can’t imagine. Here it’s so noisy, my soul shakes at every sound. I
shake all over, and I can’t go away by myself, I’m afraid of the silence.
Don’t judge me harshly, Peter... I loved you, as if you belonged to my
family. I’d gladly let Anya marry you, I swear it, only dear, you ought to
work, finish your studies. You don’t do anything, only fate throws you
about from place to place, it’s so odd.... Isn’t it true? Yes? And you ought to
do something to your beard to make it grow better [Laughs] You are funny!
TROFIMOV. [Picking up telegram] I don’t want to be a Beau Brummel.
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...
Page 218
TROFIMOV. [Weeping] For God’s sake forgive my speaking candidly, but
that man has robbed you!
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. [Angry, but restrained] You’re twenty-six or twenty-seven, and
still a schoolboy of the second class!
TROFIMOV. Why not!
LUBOV. You ought to be a man, at your age you ought to be able to
understand those who love. And you ought to be in love yourself, you must
fall in love! [Angry] Yes, yes! You aren’t pure, you’re just a freak, a queer
fellow, a funny growth...
TROFIMOV. [In horror] What is she saying!
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!
TROFIMOV. [In horror] This is awful! What is she saying? [Goes quickly
up into the drawing-room, clutching his head] It’s awful... I can’t stand it,
I’ll go away. [Exit, but returns at once] All is over between us! [Exit.]
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?
[ANYA comes running in, laughing.]
ANYA. Peter’s fallen downstairs! [Runs out again.]
LUBOV. This Peter’s a marvel.
[The STATION-MASTER stands in the middle of the drawing-room and
recites “The Magdalen” by Tolstoy. He is listened to, but he has only
delivered a few lines when a waltz is heard from the front room, and the
recitation is stopped. Everybody dances. TROFIMOV, ANYA, VARYA, and
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA come in from the front room.]
that man has robbed you!
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. [Angry, but restrained] You’re twenty-six or twenty-seven, and
still a schoolboy of the second class!
TROFIMOV. Why not!
LUBOV. You ought to be a man, at your age you ought to be able to
understand those who love. And you ought to be in love yourself, you must
fall in love! [Angry] Yes, yes! You aren’t pure, you’re just a freak, a queer
fellow, a funny growth...
TROFIMOV. [In horror] What is she saying!
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!
TROFIMOV. [In horror] This is awful! What is she saying? [Goes quickly
up into the drawing-room, clutching his head] It’s awful... I can’t stand it,
I’ll go away. [Exit, but returns at once] All is over between us! [Exit.]
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?
[ANYA comes running in, laughing.]
ANYA. Peter’s fallen downstairs! [Runs out again.]
LUBOV. This Peter’s a marvel.
[The STATION-MASTER stands in the middle of the drawing-room and
recites “The Magdalen” by Tolstoy. He is listened to, but he has only
delivered a few lines when a waltz is heard from the front room, and the
recitation is stopped. Everybody dances. TROFIMOV, ANYA, VARYA, and
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA come in from the front room.]
Page 219
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.]
YASHA. Well, grandfather?
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.
YASHA. I’m tired of you, grandfather. [Yawns] If you’d only hurry up and
kick the bucket.
FIERS. Oh you... bungler! [Mutters.]
[TROFIMOV and LUBOV ANDREYEVNA dance in the reception-room,
then into the sitting-room.]
LUBOV. Merci. I’ll sit down. [Sits] I’m tired.
[Enter ANYA.]
ANYA. [Excited] Somebody in the kitchen was saying just now that the
cherry orchard was sold to-day.
LUBOV. Sold to whom?
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.
[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.]
YASHA. Well, grandfather?
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.
YASHA. I’m tired of you, grandfather. [Yawns] If you’d only hurry up and
kick the bucket.
FIERS. Oh you... bungler! [Mutters.]
[TROFIMOV and LUBOV ANDREYEVNA dance in the reception-room,
then into the sitting-room.]
LUBOV. Merci. I’ll sit down. [Sits] I’m tired.
[Enter ANYA.]
ANYA. [Excited] Somebody in the kitchen was saying just now that the
cherry orchard was sold to-day.
LUBOV. Sold to whom?
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.
Page 220
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?
YASHA. Epikhodov’s too funny. He’s a silly man. Two-and-twenty
troubles.
LUBOV. Fiers, if the estate is sold, where will you go?
FIERS. I’ll go wherever you order me to go.
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.
YASHA. [To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] Lubov Andreyevna! I want to ask
a favour of you, if you’ll be so kind! If you go to Paris again, then please
take me with you. It’s absolutely impossible for me to stop here. [Looking
round; in an undertone] What’s the good of talking about it, you see for
yourself that this is an uneducated country, with an immoral population, and
it’s so dull. The food in the kitchen is beastly, and here’s this Fiers walking
about mumbling various inappropriate things. Take me with you, be so
kind!
[Enter PISCHIN.]
PISCHIN. I come to ask for the pleasure of a little waltz, dear lady....
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA goes to him] But all the same, you wonderful
woman, I must have 180 little roubles from you... I must.... [They dance]
180 little roubles.... [They go through into the drawing-room.]
YASHA. [Sings softly] “Oh, will you understand
My soul’s deep restlessness?”
[In the drawing-room a figure in a grey top-hat and in baggy check trousers
is waving its hands and jumping about; there are cries of “Bravo, Charlotta
Ivanovna!”]
LUBOV. [Slightly vexed] Why do you laugh? What are you glad about?
YASHA. Epikhodov’s too funny. He’s a silly man. Two-and-twenty
troubles.
LUBOV. Fiers, if the estate is sold, where will you go?
FIERS. I’ll go wherever you order me to go.
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.
YASHA. [To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] Lubov Andreyevna! I want to ask
a favour of you, if you’ll be so kind! If you go to Paris again, then please
take me with you. It’s absolutely impossible for me to stop here. [Looking
round; in an undertone] What’s the good of talking about it, you see for
yourself that this is an uneducated country, with an immoral population, and
it’s so dull. The food in the kitchen is beastly, and here’s this Fiers walking
about mumbling various inappropriate things. Take me with you, be so
kind!
[Enter PISCHIN.]
PISCHIN. I come to ask for the pleasure of a little waltz, dear lady....
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA goes to him] But all the same, you wonderful
woman, I must have 180 little roubles from you... I must.... [They dance]
180 little roubles.... [They go through into the drawing-room.]
YASHA. [Sings softly] “Oh, will you understand
My soul’s deep restlessness?”
[In the drawing-room a figure in a grey top-hat and in baggy check trousers
is waving its hands and jumping about; there are cries of “Bravo, Charlotta
Ivanovna!”]
Page 221
DUNYASHA. [Stops to powder her face] The young mistress tells me to
dance—there are a lot of gentlemen, but few ladies—and my head goes
round when I dance, and my heart beats, Fiers Nicolaevitch; the Post-office
clerk told me something just now which made me catch my breath. [The
music grows faint.]
FIERS. What did he say to you?
DUNYASHA. He says, “You’re like a little flower.”
YASHA. [Yawns] Impolite.... [Exit.]
DUNYASHA. Like a little flower. I’m such a delicate girl; I simply love
words of tenderness.
FIERS. You’ll lose your head.
[Enter EPIKHODOV.]
EPIKHODOV. You, Avdotya Fedorovna, want to see me no more than if I
was some insect. [Sighs] Oh, life!
DUNYASHA. What do you want?
EPIKHODOV. Undoubtedly, perhaps, you may be right. [Sighs] But,
certainly, if you regard the matter from the aspect, then you, if I may say so,
and you must excuse my candidness, have absolutely reduced me to a state
of mind. I know my fate, every day something unfortunate happens to me,
and I’ve grown used to it a long time ago, I even look at my fate with a
smile. You gave me your word, and though I...
DUNYASHA. Please, we’ll talk later on, but leave me alone now. I’m
meditating now. [Plays with her fan.]
EPIKHODOV. Every day something unfortunate happens to me, and I, if I
may so express myself, only smile, and even laugh.
[VARYA enters from the drawing-room.]
VARYA. Haven’t you gone yet, Simeon? You really have no respect for
anybody. [To DUNYASHA] You go away, Dunyasha. [To EPIKHODOV]
dance—there are a lot of gentlemen, but few ladies—and my head goes
round when I dance, and my heart beats, Fiers Nicolaevitch; the Post-office
clerk told me something just now which made me catch my breath. [The
music grows faint.]
FIERS. What did he say to you?
DUNYASHA. He says, “You’re like a little flower.”
YASHA. [Yawns] Impolite.... [Exit.]
DUNYASHA. Like a little flower. I’m such a delicate girl; I simply love
words of tenderness.
FIERS. You’ll lose your head.
[Enter EPIKHODOV.]
EPIKHODOV. You, Avdotya Fedorovna, want to see me no more than if I
was some insect. [Sighs] Oh, life!
DUNYASHA. What do you want?
EPIKHODOV. Undoubtedly, perhaps, you may be right. [Sighs] But,
certainly, if you regard the matter from the aspect, then you, if I may say so,
and you must excuse my candidness, have absolutely reduced me to a state
of mind. I know my fate, every day something unfortunate happens to me,
and I’ve grown used to it a long time ago, I even look at my fate with a
smile. You gave me your word, and though I...
DUNYASHA. Please, we’ll talk later on, but leave me alone now. I’m
meditating now. [Plays with her fan.]
EPIKHODOV. Every day something unfortunate happens to me, and I, if I
may so express myself, only smile, and even laugh.
[VARYA enters from the drawing-room.]
VARYA. Haven’t you gone yet, Simeon? You really have no respect for
anybody. [To DUNYASHA] You go away, Dunyasha. [To EPIKHODOV]
Page 222
You play billiards and break a cue, and walk about the drawing-room as if
you were a visitor!
EPIKHODOV. You cannot, if I may say so, call me to order.
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.
EPIKHODOV. [Offended] Whether I work, or walk about, or eat, or play
billiards, is only a matter to be settled by people of understanding and my
elders.
VARYA. You dare to talk to me like that! [Furious] You dare? You mean
that I know nothing? Get out of here! This minute!
EPIKHODOV. [Nervous] I must ask you to express yourself more
delicately.
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.]
LOPAKHIN. Much obliged.
VARYA. [Angry but amused] I’m sorry.
LOPAKHIN. Never mind. I thank you for my pleasant reception.
VARYA. It isn’t worth any thanks. [Walks away, then looks back and asks
gently] I didn’t hurt you, did I?
LOPAKHIN. No, not at all. There’ll be an enormous bump, that’s all.
VOICES FROM THE DRAWING-ROOM. Lopakhin’s returned! Ermolai
Alexeyevitch!
you were a visitor!
EPIKHODOV. You cannot, if I may say so, call me to order.
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.
EPIKHODOV. [Offended] Whether I work, or walk about, or eat, or play
billiards, is only a matter to be settled by people of understanding and my
elders.
VARYA. You dare to talk to me like that! [Furious] You dare? You mean
that I know nothing? Get out of here! This minute!
EPIKHODOV. [Nervous] I must ask you to express yourself more
delicately.
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.]
LOPAKHIN. Much obliged.
VARYA. [Angry but amused] I’m sorry.
LOPAKHIN. Never mind. I thank you for my pleasant reception.
VARYA. It isn’t worth any thanks. [Walks away, then looks back and asks
gently] I didn’t hurt you, did I?
LOPAKHIN. No, not at all. There’ll be an enormous bump, that’s all.
VOICES FROM THE DRAWING-ROOM. Lopakhin’s returned! Ermolai
Alexeyevitch!
Page 223
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.
[Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA.]
LUBOV. Is that you, Ermolai Alexeyevitch? Why were you so long?
Where’s Leonid?
LOPAKHIN. Leonid Andreyevitch came back with me, he’s coming....
LUBOV. [Excited] Well, what? Is it sold? Tell me?
LOPAKHIN. [Confused, afraid to show his pleasure] The sale ended up at
four o’clock.... We missed the train, and had to wait till half-past nine.
[Sighs heavily] Ooh! My head’s going round a little.
[Enter GAEV; in his right hand he carries things he has bought, with his left
he wipes away his tears.]
LUBOV. Leon, what’s happened? Leon, well? [Impatiently, in tears] Quick,
for the love of God....
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.
[Goes out through the drawing-room; FIERS after him.]
PISCHIN. What happened? Come on, tell us!
LUBOV. Is the cherry orchard sold?
LOPAKHIN. It is sold.
LUBOV. Who bought it?
LOPAKHIN. I bought it.
hear... [Kisses LOPAKHIN] You smell of cognac, my dear, my soul. And
we’re all having a good time.
[Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA.]
LUBOV. Is that you, Ermolai Alexeyevitch? Why were you so long?
Where’s Leonid?
LOPAKHIN. Leonid Andreyevitch came back with me, he’s coming....
LUBOV. [Excited] Well, what? Is it sold? Tell me?
LOPAKHIN. [Confused, afraid to show his pleasure] The sale ended up at
four o’clock.... We missed the train, and had to wait till half-past nine.
[Sighs heavily] Ooh! My head’s going round a little.
[Enter GAEV; in his right hand he carries things he has bought, with his left
he wipes away his tears.]
LUBOV. Leon, what’s happened? Leon, well? [Impatiently, in tears] Quick,
for the love of God....
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.
[Goes out through the drawing-room; FIERS after him.]
PISCHIN. What happened? Come on, tell us!
LUBOV. Is the cherry orchard sold?
LOPAKHIN. It is sold.
LUBOV. Who bought it?
LOPAKHIN. I bought it.
Page 224
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA is overwhelmed; she would fall if she were not
standing by an armchair and a table. VARYA takes her keys off her belt,
throws them on the floor, into the middle of the room and goes out.]
LOPAKHIN. I bought it! Wait, ladies and gentlemen, please, my head’s
going round, I can’t talk.... [Laughs] When we got to the sale, Deriganov
was there already. Leonid Andreyevitch had only fifteen thousand roubles,
and Deriganov offered thirty thousand on top of the mortgage to begin with.
I saw how matters were, so I grabbed hold of him and bid forty. He went up
to forty-five, I offered fifty-five. That means he went up by fives and I went
up by tens.... Well, it came to an end. I bid ninety more than the mortgage;
and it stayed with me. The cherry orchard is mine now, mine! [Roars with
laughter] My God, my God, the cherry orchard’s mine! Tell me I’m drunk,
or mad, or dreaming.... [Stamps his feet] Don’t laugh at me! If my father
and grandfather rose from their graves and looked at the whole affair, and
saw how their Ermolai, their beaten and uneducated Ermolai, who used to
run barefoot in the winter, how that very Ermolai has bought an estate,
which is the most beautiful thing in the world! I’ve bought the estate where
my grandfather and my father were slaves, where they weren’t even
allowed into the kitchen. I’m asleep, it’s only a dream, an illusion.... It’s the
fruit of imagination, wrapped in the fog of the unknown.... [Picks up the
keys, nicely smiling] She threw down the keys, she wanted to show she was
no longer mistress here.... [Jingles keys] Well, it’s all one! [Hears the band
tuning up] Eh, musicians, play, I want to hear you! Come and look at
Ermolai Lopakhin laying his axe to the cherry orchard, come and look at
the trees falling! We’ll build villas here, and our grandsons and great-
grandsons will see a new life here.... Play on, music! [The band plays.
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA sinks into a chair and weeps bitterly.
LOPAKHIN continues reproachfully] Why then, why didn’t you take my
advice? My poor, dear woman, you can’t go back now. [Weeps] Oh, if only
the whole thing was done with, if only our uneven, unhappy life were
changed!
PISCHIN. [Takes his arm; in an undertone] She’s crying. Let’s go into the
drawing-room and leave her by herself... come on.... [Takes his arm and
leads him out.]
standing by an armchair and a table. VARYA takes her keys off her belt,
throws them on the floor, into the middle of the room and goes out.]
LOPAKHIN. I bought it! Wait, ladies and gentlemen, please, my head’s
going round, I can’t talk.... [Laughs] When we got to the sale, Deriganov
was there already. Leonid Andreyevitch had only fifteen thousand roubles,
and Deriganov offered thirty thousand on top of the mortgage to begin with.
I saw how matters were, so I grabbed hold of him and bid forty. He went up
to forty-five, I offered fifty-five. That means he went up by fives and I went
up by tens.... Well, it came to an end. I bid ninety more than the mortgage;
and it stayed with me. The cherry orchard is mine now, mine! [Roars with
laughter] My God, my God, the cherry orchard’s mine! Tell me I’m drunk,
or mad, or dreaming.... [Stamps his feet] Don’t laugh at me! If my father
and grandfather rose from their graves and looked at the whole affair, and
saw how their Ermolai, their beaten and uneducated Ermolai, who used to
run barefoot in the winter, how that very Ermolai has bought an estate,
which is the most beautiful thing in the world! I’ve bought the estate where
my grandfather and my father were slaves, where they weren’t even
allowed into the kitchen. I’m asleep, it’s only a dream, an illusion.... It’s the
fruit of imagination, wrapped in the fog of the unknown.... [Picks up the
keys, nicely smiling] She threw down the keys, she wanted to show she was
no longer mistress here.... [Jingles keys] Well, it’s all one! [Hears the band
tuning up] Eh, musicians, play, I want to hear you! Come and look at
Ermolai Lopakhin laying his axe to the cherry orchard, come and look at
the trees falling! We’ll build villas here, and our grandsons and great-
grandsons will see a new life here.... Play on, music! [The band plays.
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA sinks into a chair and weeps bitterly.
LOPAKHIN continues reproachfully] Why then, why didn’t you take my
advice? My poor, dear woman, you can’t go back now. [Weeps] Oh, if only
the whole thing was done with, if only our uneven, unhappy life were
changed!
PISCHIN. [Takes his arm; in an undertone] She’s crying. Let’s go into the
drawing-room and leave her by herself... come on.... [Takes his arm and
leads him out.]
Page 225
LOPAKHIN. What’s that? Bandsmen, play nicely! Go on, do just as I want
you to! [Ironically] The new owner, the owner of the cherry orchard is
coming! [He accidentally knocks up against a little table and nearly upsets
the candelabra] I can pay for everything! [Exit with PISCHIN]
[In the reception-room and the drawing-room nobody remains except
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA, who sits huddled up and weeping bitterly. The
band plays softly. ANYA and TROFIMOV come in quickly. ANYA goes up
to her mother and goes on her knees in front of her. TROFIMOV stands at
the drawing-room entrance.]
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.
you to! [Ironically] The new owner, the owner of the cherry orchard is
coming! [He accidentally knocks up against a little table and nearly upsets
the candelabra] I can pay for everything! [Exit with PISCHIN]
[In the reception-room and the drawing-room nobody remains except
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA, who sits huddled up and weeping bitterly. The
band plays softly. ANYA and TROFIMOV come in quickly. ANYA goes up
to her mother and goes on her knees in front of her. TROFIMOV stands at
the drawing-room entrance.]
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.
Page 226
ACT FOUR
[The stage is set as for Act I. There are no curtains on the windows, no
pictures; only a few pieces of furniture are left; they are piled up in a corner
as if for sale. The emptiness is felt. By the door that leads out of the house
and at the back of the stage, portmanteaux and travelling paraphernalia are
piled up. The door on the left is open; the voices of VARYA and ANYA can
be heard through it. LOPAKHIN stands and waits. YASHA holds a tray
with little tumblers of champagne. Outside, EPIKHODOV is tying up a
box. Voices are heard behind the stage. The peasants have come to say
good-bye. The voice of GAEV is heard: “Thank you, brothers, thank you.”]
YASHA. The common people have come to say good-bye. I am of the
opinion, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that they’re good people, but they don’t
understand very much.
[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!
LUBOV. I couldn’t help myself, I couldn’t! [They go out.]
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.
LOPAKHIN. Eight roubles a bottle. [Pause] It’s devilish cold here.
YASHA. There are no fires to-day, we’re going away. [Laughs]
[The stage is set as for Act I. There are no curtains on the windows, no
pictures; only a few pieces of furniture are left; they are piled up in a corner
as if for sale. The emptiness is felt. By the door that leads out of the house
and at the back of the stage, portmanteaux and travelling paraphernalia are
piled up. The door on the left is open; the voices of VARYA and ANYA can
be heard through it. LOPAKHIN stands and waits. YASHA holds a tray
with little tumblers of champagne. Outside, EPIKHODOV is tying up a
box. Voices are heard behind the stage. The peasants have come to say
good-bye. The voice of GAEV is heard: “Thank you, brothers, thank you.”]
YASHA. The common people have come to say good-bye. I am of the
opinion, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that they’re good people, but they don’t
understand very much.
[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!
LUBOV. I couldn’t help myself, I couldn’t! [They go out.]
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.
LOPAKHIN. Eight roubles a bottle. [Pause] It’s devilish cold here.
YASHA. There are no fires to-day, we’re going away. [Laughs]
Page 227
LOPAKHIN. What’s the matter with you?
YASHA. I’m just pleased.
LOPAKHIN. It’s October outside, but it’s as sunny and as quiet as if it were
summer. Good for building. [Looking at his watch and speaking through the
door] Ladies and gentlemen, please remember that it’s only forty-seven
minutes till the train goes! You must go off to the station in twenty minutes.
Hurry up.
[TROFIMOV, in an overcoat, comes in from the grounds.]
TROFIMOV. I think it’s time we went. The carriages are waiting. Where
the devil are my goloshes? They’re lost. [Through the door] Anya, I can’t
find my goloshes! I can’t!
LOPAKHIN. I’ve got to go to Kharkov. I’m going in the same train as you.
I’m going to spend the whole winter in Kharkov. I’ve been hanging about
with you people, going rusty without work. I can’t live without working. I
must have something to do with my hands; they hang about as if they
weren’t mine at all.
TROFIMOV. We’ll go away now and then you’ll start again on your useful
labours.
LOPAKHIN. Have a glass.
TROFIMOV. I won’t.
LOPAKHIN. So you’re off to Moscow now?
TROFIMOV Yes. I’ll see them into town and to-morrow I’m off to
Moscow.
LOPAKHIN. Yes.... I expect the professors don’t lecture nowadays; they’re
waiting till you turn up!
TROFIMOV. That’s not your business.
LOPAKHIN. How many years have you been going to the university?
YASHA. I’m just pleased.
LOPAKHIN. It’s October outside, but it’s as sunny and as quiet as if it were
summer. Good for building. [Looking at his watch and speaking through the
door] Ladies and gentlemen, please remember that it’s only forty-seven
minutes till the train goes! You must go off to the station in twenty minutes.
Hurry up.
[TROFIMOV, in an overcoat, comes in from the grounds.]
TROFIMOV. I think it’s time we went. The carriages are waiting. Where
the devil are my goloshes? They’re lost. [Through the door] Anya, I can’t
find my goloshes! I can’t!
LOPAKHIN. I’ve got to go to Kharkov. I’m going in the same train as you.
I’m going to spend the whole winter in Kharkov. I’ve been hanging about
with you people, going rusty without work. I can’t live without working. I
must have something to do with my hands; they hang about as if they
weren’t mine at all.
TROFIMOV. We’ll go away now and then you’ll start again on your useful
labours.
LOPAKHIN. Have a glass.
TROFIMOV. I won’t.
LOPAKHIN. So you’re off to Moscow now?
TROFIMOV Yes. I’ll see them into town and to-morrow I’m off to
Moscow.
LOPAKHIN. Yes.... I expect the professors don’t lecture nowadays; they’re
waiting till you turn up!
TROFIMOV. That’s not your business.
LOPAKHIN. How many years have you been going to the university?
Page 228
TROFIMOV. Think of something fresh. This is old and flat. [Looking for
his goloshes] You know, we may not meet each other again, so just let me
give you a word of advice on parting: “Don’t wave your hands about! Get
rid of that habit of waving them about. And then, building villas and
reckoning on their residents becoming freeholders in time—that’s the same
thing; it’s all a matter of waving your hands about.... Whether I want to or
not, you know, I like you. You’ve thin, delicate fingers, like those of an
artist, and you’ve a thin, delicate soul....”
LOPAKHIN. [Embraces him] Good-bye, dear fellow. Thanks for all you’ve
said. If you want any, take some money from me for the journey.
TROFIMOV. Why should I? I don’t want it.
LOPAKHIN. But you’ve nothing!
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!
LOPAKHIN. In the spring I sowed three thousand acres of poppies, and
now I’ve made forty thousand roubles net profit. And when my poppies
were in flower, what a picture it was! So I, as I was saying, made forty
thousand roubles, and I mean I’d like to lend you some, because I can
afford it. Why turn up your nose at it? I’m just a simple peasant....
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!
LOPAKHIN. Will you get there?
his goloshes] You know, we may not meet each other again, so just let me
give you a word of advice on parting: “Don’t wave your hands about! Get
rid of that habit of waving them about. And then, building villas and
reckoning on their residents becoming freeholders in time—that’s the same
thing; it’s all a matter of waving your hands about.... Whether I want to or
not, you know, I like you. You’ve thin, delicate fingers, like those of an
artist, and you’ve a thin, delicate soul....”
LOPAKHIN. [Embraces him] Good-bye, dear fellow. Thanks for all you’ve
said. If you want any, take some money from me for the journey.
TROFIMOV. Why should I? I don’t want it.
LOPAKHIN. But you’ve nothing!
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!
LOPAKHIN. In the spring I sowed three thousand acres of poppies, and
now I’ve made forty thousand roubles net profit. And when my poppies
were in flower, what a picture it was! So I, as I was saying, made forty
thousand roubles, and I mean I’d like to lend you some, because I can
afford it. Why turn up your nose at it? I’m just a simple peasant....
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!
LOPAKHIN. Will you get there?
Page 229
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.
TROFIMOV. Yes, really, you ought to have enough tact not to do that.
[Exit.]
LOPAKHIN, All right, all right... yes, he’s right. [Exit.]
ANYA. Has Fiers been sent to the hospital?
YASHA. I gave the order this morning. I suppose they’ve sent him.
ANYA. [To EPIKHODOV, who crosses the room] Simeon Panteleyevitch,
please make inquiries if Fiers has been sent to the hospital.
YASHA. [Offended] I told Egor this morning. What’s the use of asking ten
times!
EPIKHODOV. The aged Fiers, in my conclusive opinion, isn’t worth
mending; his forefathers had better have him. I only envy him. [Puts a trunk
on a hat-box and squashes it] Well, of course. I thought so! [Exit.]
YASHA. [Grinning] Two-and-twenty troubles.
VARYA. [Behind the door] Has Fiers been taken away to the hospital?
ANYA. Yes.
VARYA. Why didn’t they take the letter to the doctor?
ANYA. It’ll have to be sent after him. [Exit.]
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.
TROFIMOV. Yes, really, you ought to have enough tact not to do that.
[Exit.]
LOPAKHIN, All right, all right... yes, he’s right. [Exit.]
ANYA. Has Fiers been sent to the hospital?
YASHA. I gave the order this morning. I suppose they’ve sent him.
ANYA. [To EPIKHODOV, who crosses the room] Simeon Panteleyevitch,
please make inquiries if Fiers has been sent to the hospital.
YASHA. [Offended] I told Egor this morning. What’s the use of asking ten
times!
EPIKHODOV. The aged Fiers, in my conclusive opinion, isn’t worth
mending; his forefathers had better have him. I only envy him. [Puts a trunk
on a hat-box and squashes it] Well, of course. I thought so! [Exit.]
YASHA. [Grinning] Two-and-twenty troubles.
VARYA. [Behind the door] Has Fiers been taken away to the hospital?
ANYA. Yes.
VARYA. Why didn’t they take the letter to the doctor?
ANYA. It’ll have to be sent after him. [Exit.]
Page 230
VARYA. [In the next room] Where’s Yasha? Tell him his mother’s come
and wants to say good-bye to him.
YASHA. [Waving his hand] She’ll make me lose all patience!
[DUNYASHA has meanwhile been bustling round the luggage; now that
YASHA is left alone, she goes up to him.]
DUNYASHA. If you only looked at me once, Yasha. You’re going away,
leaving me behind.
[Weeps and hugs him round the neck.]
YASHA. What’s the use of crying? [Drinks champagne] In six days I’ll be
again in Paris. To-morrow we get into the express and off we go. I can
hardly believe it. Vive la France! It doesn’t suit me here, I can’t live here...
it’s no good. Well, I’ve seen the uncivilized world; I have had enough of it.
[Drinks champagne] What do you want to cry for? You behave yourself
properly, and then you won’t cry.
DUNYASHA. [Looks in a small mirror and powders her face] Send me a
letter from Paris. You know I loved you, Yasha, so much! I’m a sensitive
creature, Yasha.
YASHA. Somebody’s coming.
[He bustles around the luggage, singing softly. Enter LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA, GAEV, ANYA, and CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA.]
GAEV. We’d better be off. There’s no time left. [Looks at YASHA]
Somebody smells of herring!
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?
ANYA. Very! A new life is beginning, mother!
and wants to say good-bye to him.
YASHA. [Waving his hand] She’ll make me lose all patience!
[DUNYASHA has meanwhile been bustling round the luggage; now that
YASHA is left alone, she goes up to him.]
DUNYASHA. If you only looked at me once, Yasha. You’re going away,
leaving me behind.
[Weeps and hugs him round the neck.]
YASHA. What’s the use of crying? [Drinks champagne] In six days I’ll be
again in Paris. To-morrow we get into the express and off we go. I can
hardly believe it. Vive la France! It doesn’t suit me here, I can’t live here...
it’s no good. Well, I’ve seen the uncivilized world; I have had enough of it.
[Drinks champagne] What do you want to cry for? You behave yourself
properly, and then you won’t cry.
DUNYASHA. [Looks in a small mirror and powders her face] Send me a
letter from Paris. You know I loved you, Yasha, so much! I’m a sensitive
creature, Yasha.
YASHA. Somebody’s coming.
[He bustles around the luggage, singing softly. Enter LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA, GAEV, ANYA, and CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA.]
GAEV. We’d better be off. There’s no time left. [Looks at YASHA]
Somebody smells of herring!
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?
ANYA. Very! A new life is beginning, mother!
Page 231
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....
LUBOV. I’ll come, my darling. [Embraces her.]
[Enter LOPAKHIN. CHARLOTTA is singing to herself.]
GAEV. Charlotta is happy; she sings!
CHARLOTTA. [Takes a bundle, looking like a wrapped-up baby] My little
baby, bye-bye. [The baby seems to answer, “Oua! Oua!”] Hush, my nice
little boy. [“Oua! Oua!”] I’m so sorry for you! [Throws the bundle back] So
please find me a new place. I can’t go on like this.
LOPAKHIN. We’ll find one, Charlotta Ivanovna, don’t you be afraid.
GAEV. Everybody’s leaving us. Varya’s going away... we’ve suddenly
become unnecessary.
CHARLOTTA. I’ve nowhere to live in town. I must go away. [Hums]
Never mind.
[Enter PISCHIN.]
LOPAKHIN. Nature’s marvel!
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....
LUBOV. I’ll come, my darling. [Embraces her.]
[Enter LOPAKHIN. CHARLOTTA is singing to herself.]
GAEV. Charlotta is happy; she sings!
CHARLOTTA. [Takes a bundle, looking like a wrapped-up baby] My little
baby, bye-bye. [The baby seems to answer, “Oua! Oua!”] Hush, my nice
little boy. [“Oua! Oua!”] I’m so sorry for you! [Throws the bundle back] So
please find me a new place. I can’t go on like this.
LOPAKHIN. We’ll find one, Charlotta Ivanovna, don’t you be afraid.
GAEV. Everybody’s leaving us. Varya’s going away... we’ve suddenly
become unnecessary.
CHARLOTTA. I’ve nowhere to live in town. I must go away. [Hums]
Never mind.
[Enter PISCHIN.]
LOPAKHIN. Nature’s marvel!
Page 232
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....
LOPAKHIN. [Shrugs his shoulders in surprise] As if I were dreaming.
Where did you get this from?
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!
LOPAKHIN. Who were these Englishmen?
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.
LUBOV. We’re just off to town, and to-morrow I go abroad.
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.]
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....
LOPAKHIN. [Shrugs his shoulders in surprise] As if I were dreaming.
Where did you get this from?
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!
LOPAKHIN. Who were these Englishmen?
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.
LUBOV. We’re just off to town, and to-morrow I go abroad.
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.]
Page 233
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.
LUBOV. The second is Varya. She’s used to getting up early and to work,
and now she’s no work to do she’s like a fish out of water. She’s grown thin
and pale, and she cries, poor thing.... [Pause] You know very well, Ermolai
Alexeyevitch, that I used to hope to marry her to you, and I suppose you are
going to marry somebody? [Whispers to ANYA, who nods to
CHARLOTTA, and they both go out] She loves you, she’s your sort, and I
don’t understand, I really don’t, why you seem to be keeping away from
each other. I don’t understand!
LOPAKHIN. To tell the truth, I don’t understand it myself. It’s all so
strange.... If there’s still time, I’ll be ready at once... Let’s get it over, once
and for all; I don’t feel as if I could ever propose to her without you.
LUBOV. Excellent. It’ll only take a minute. I’ll call her.
LOPAKHIN. The champagne’s very appropriate. [Looking at the tumblers]
They’re empty, somebody’s already drunk them. [YASHA coughs] I call
that licking it up....
LUBOV. [Animated] Excellent. We’ll go out. Yasha, allez. I’ll call her in....
[At the door] Varya, leave that and come here. Come! [Exit with YASHA.]
LOPAKHIN. [Looks at his watch] Yes.... [Pause.]
[There is a restrained laugh behind the door, a whisper, then VARYA comes
in.]
VARYA. [Looking at the luggage in silence] I can’t seem to find it....
LOPAKHIN. What are you looking for?
VARYA. I packed it myself and I don’t remember. [Pause.]
LOPAKHIN. Where are you going to now, Barbara Mihailovna?
[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.
LUBOV. The second is Varya. She’s used to getting up early and to work,
and now she’s no work to do she’s like a fish out of water. She’s grown thin
and pale, and she cries, poor thing.... [Pause] You know very well, Ermolai
Alexeyevitch, that I used to hope to marry her to you, and I suppose you are
going to marry somebody? [Whispers to ANYA, who nods to
CHARLOTTA, and they both go out] She loves you, she’s your sort, and I
don’t understand, I really don’t, why you seem to be keeping away from
each other. I don’t understand!
LOPAKHIN. To tell the truth, I don’t understand it myself. It’s all so
strange.... If there’s still time, I’ll be ready at once... Let’s get it over, once
and for all; I don’t feel as if I could ever propose to her without you.
LUBOV. Excellent. It’ll only take a minute. I’ll call her.
LOPAKHIN. The champagne’s very appropriate. [Looking at the tumblers]
They’re empty, somebody’s already drunk them. [YASHA coughs] I call
that licking it up....
LUBOV. [Animated] Excellent. We’ll go out. Yasha, allez. I’ll call her in....
[At the door] Varya, leave that and come here. Come! [Exit with YASHA.]
LOPAKHIN. [Looks at his watch] Yes.... [Pause.]
[There is a restrained laugh behind the door, a whisper, then VARYA comes
in.]
VARYA. [Looking at the luggage in silence] I can’t seem to find it....
LOPAKHIN. What are you looking for?
VARYA. I packed it myself and I don’t remember. [Pause.]
LOPAKHIN. Where are you going to now, Barbara Mihailovna?
Page 234
VARYA. I? To the Ragulins.... I’ve got an agreement to go and look after
their house... as housekeeper or something.
LOPAKHIN. Is that at Yashnevo? It’s about fifty miles. [Pause] So life in
this house is finished now....
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.
VARYA. Well, well!
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. I didn’t look. [Pause] And our thermometer’s broken.... [Pause.]
VOICE AT THE DOOR. Ermolai Alexeyevitch!
LOPAKHIN. [As if he has long been waiting to be called] This minute.
[Exit quickly.]
[VARYA, sitting on the floor, puts her face on a bundle of clothes and
weeps gently. The door opens. LUBOV ANDREYEVNA enters carefully.]
LUBOV. Well? [Pause] We must go.
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.
ANYA. [Joyfully] Away!
GAEV. My friends, my dear friends! Can I be silent, in leaving this house
for evermore?—can I restrain myself, in saying farewell, from expressing
their house... as housekeeper or something.
LOPAKHIN. Is that at Yashnevo? It’s about fifty miles. [Pause] So life in
this house is finished now....
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.
VARYA. Well, well!
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. I didn’t look. [Pause] And our thermometer’s broken.... [Pause.]
VOICE AT THE DOOR. Ermolai Alexeyevitch!
LOPAKHIN. [As if he has long been waiting to be called] This minute.
[Exit quickly.]
[VARYA, sitting on the floor, puts her face on a bundle of clothes and
weeps gently. The door opens. LUBOV ANDREYEVNA enters carefully.]
LUBOV. Well? [Pause] We must go.
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.
ANYA. [Joyfully] Away!
GAEV. My friends, my dear friends! Can I be silent, in leaving this house
for evermore?—can I restrain myself, in saying farewell, from expressing
Page 235
those feelings which now fill my whole being...?
ANYA. [Imploringly] Uncle!
VARYA. Uncle, you shouldn’t!
GAEV. [Stupidly] Double the red into the middle.... I’ll be quiet.
[Enter TROFIMOV, then LOPAKHIN.]
TROFIMOV. Well, it’s time to be off.
LOPAKHIN. Epikhodov, my coat!
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....
LUBOV. Have all the things been taken away?
LOPAKHIN. Yes, all, I think. [To EPIKHODOV, putting on his coat] You
see that everything’s quite straight, Epikhodov.
EPIKHODOV. [Hoarsely] You may depend upon me, Ermolai
Alexeyevitch!
LOPAKHIN. What’s the matter with your voice?
EPIKHODOV. I swallowed something just now; I was having a drink of
water.
YASHA. [Suspiciously] What manners....
LUBOV. We go away, and not a soul remains behind.
LOPAKHIN. Till the spring.
VARYA. [Drags an umbrella out of a bundle, and seems to be waving it
about. LOPAKHIN appears to be frightened] What are you doing?... I never
thought...
ANYA. [Imploringly] Uncle!
VARYA. Uncle, you shouldn’t!
GAEV. [Stupidly] Double the red into the middle.... I’ll be quiet.
[Enter TROFIMOV, then LOPAKHIN.]
TROFIMOV. Well, it’s time to be off.
LOPAKHIN. Epikhodov, my coat!
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....
LUBOV. Have all the things been taken away?
LOPAKHIN. Yes, all, I think. [To EPIKHODOV, putting on his coat] You
see that everything’s quite straight, Epikhodov.
EPIKHODOV. [Hoarsely] You may depend upon me, Ermolai
Alexeyevitch!
LOPAKHIN. What’s the matter with your voice?
EPIKHODOV. I swallowed something just now; I was having a drink of
water.
YASHA. [Suspiciously] What manners....
LUBOV. We go away, and not a soul remains behind.
LOPAKHIN. Till the spring.
VARYA. [Drags an umbrella out of a bundle, and seems to be waving it
about. LOPAKHIN appears to be frightened] What are you doing?... I never
thought...
Page 236
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....
TROFIMOV. [Putting them on] Come on!
GAEV. [Deeply moved, nearly crying] The train... the station.... Cross in the
middle, a white double in the corner....
LUBOV. Let’s go!
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!
ANYA. Good-bye, home! Good-bye, old life!
TROFIMOV. Welcome, new life! [Exit with ANYA.]
[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.]
GAEV. [In despair] My sister, my sister....
LUBOV. My dear, my gentle, beautiful orchard! My life, my youth, my
happiness, good-bye! Good-bye!
ANYA’S VOICE. [Gaily] Mother!
TROFIMOV’S VOICE. [Gaily, excited] Coo-ee!
LUBOV. To look at the walls and the windows for the last time.... My dead
mother used to like to walk about this room....
GAEV. My sister, my sister!
in directly.
VARYA. Peter, here they are, your goloshes, by that trunk. [In tears] And
how old and dirty they are....
TROFIMOV. [Putting them on] Come on!
GAEV. [Deeply moved, nearly crying] The train... the station.... Cross in the
middle, a white double in the corner....
LUBOV. Let’s go!
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!
ANYA. Good-bye, home! Good-bye, old life!
TROFIMOV. Welcome, new life! [Exit with ANYA.]
[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.]
GAEV. [In despair] My sister, my sister....
LUBOV. My dear, my gentle, beautiful orchard! My life, my youth, my
happiness, good-bye! Good-bye!
ANYA’S VOICE. [Gaily] Mother!
TROFIMOV’S VOICE. [Gaily, excited] Coo-ee!
LUBOV. To look at the walls and the windows for the last time.... My dead
mother used to like to walk about this room....
GAEV. My sister, my sister!
Page 237
ANYA’S VOICE. Mother!
TROFIMOV’S VOICE. Coo-ee!
LUBOV. We’re coming! [They go out.]
[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.]
FIERS. It’s locked. They’ve gone away. [Sits on a sofa] They’ve forgotten
about me.... Never mind, I’ll sit here.... And Leonid Andreyevitch will have
gone in a light overcoat instead of putting on his fur coat.... [Sighs
anxiously] I didn’t see.... Oh, these young people! [Mumbles something that
cannot be understood] Life’s gone on as if I’d never lived. [Lying down] I’ll
lie down.... You’ve no strength left in you, nothing left at all.... Oh, you...
bungler!
[He lies without moving. The distant sound is heard, as if from the sky, of a
breaking string, dying away sadly. Silence follows it, and only the sound is
heard, some way away in the orchard, of the axe falling on the trees.]
Curtain.
TROFIMOV’S VOICE. Coo-ee!
LUBOV. We’re coming! [They go out.]
[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.]
FIERS. It’s locked. They’ve gone away. [Sits on a sofa] They’ve forgotten
about me.... Never mind, I’ll sit here.... And Leonid Andreyevitch will have
gone in a light overcoat instead of putting on his fur coat.... [Sighs
anxiously] I didn’t see.... Oh, these young people! [Mumbles something that
cannot be understood] Life’s gone on as if I’d never lived. [Lying down] I’ll
lie down.... You’ve no strength left in you, nothing left at all.... Oh, you...
bungler!
[He lies without moving. The distant sound is heard, as if from the sky, of a
breaking string, dying away sadly. Silence follows it, and only the sound is
heard, some way away in the orchard, of the axe falling on the trees.]
Curtain.
Page 238
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