Ivanoff

by Anton Checkov




IVANOFF

A PLAY

CHARACTERS

NICHOLAS IVANOFF, perpetual member of the Council of Peasant
Affairs

ANNA, his wife. Nee Sarah Abramson

MATTHEW SHABELSKI, a count, uncle of Ivanoff

PAUL LEBEDIEFF, President of the Board of the Zemstvo

ZINAIDA, his wife

SASHA, their daughter, twenty years old

LVOFF, a young government doctor

MARTHA BABAKINA, a young widow, owner of an estate and daughter
of a rich merchant

KOSICH, an exciseman

MICHAEL BORKIN, a distant relative of Ivanoff, and manager of his
estate

AVDOTIA NAZAROVNA, an old woman

GEORGE, lives with the Lebedieffs

FIRST GUEST

SECOND GUEST

THIRD GUEST

FOURTH GUEST

PETER, a servant of Ivanoff

GABRIEL, a servant of Lebedieff

GUESTS OF BOTH SEXES

The play takes place in one of the provinces of central Russia

IVANOFF

ACT I

The garden of IVANOFF'S country place. On the left is a terrace
and the facade of the house. One window is open. Below the
terrace is a broad semicircular lawn, from which paths lead to
right and left into a garden. On the right are several garden
benches and tables. A lamp is burning on one of the tables. It is
evening. As the curtain rises sounds of the piano and violoncello
are heard.

IVANOFF is sitting at a table reading.

BORKIN, in top-boots and carrying a gun, comes in from the rear
of the garden. He is a little tipsy. As he sees IVANOFF he comes
toward him on tiptoe, and when he comes opposite him he stops and
points the gun at his face.

IVANOFF. [Catches sight of BORKIN. Shudders and jumps to his
feet] Misha! What are you doing? You frightened me! I can't stand
your stupid jokes when I am so nervous as this. And having
frightened me, you laugh! [He sits down.]

BORKIN. [Laughing loudly] There, I am sorry, really. I won't do
it again. Indeed I won't. [Take off his cap] How hot it is! Just
think, my dear boy, I have covered twelve miles in the last three
hours. I am worn out. Just feel how my heart is beating.


IVANOFF. [Goes on reading] Oh, very well. I shall feel it later!

BORKIN. No, feel it now. [He takes IVANOFF'S hand and presses it
against his breast] Can you feel it thumping? That means that it
is weak and that I may die suddenly at any moment. Would you be
sorry if I died?

IVANOFF. I am reading now. I shall attend to you later.

BORKIN. No, seriously, would you be sorry if I died? Nicholas,
would you be sorry if I died?

IVANOFF. Leave me alone!

BORKIN. Come, tell me if you would be sorry or not.

IVANOFF. I am sorry that you smell so of vodka, Misha, it is
disgusting.

BORKIN. Do I smell of vodka? How strange! And yet, it is not so
strange after all. I met the magistrate on the road, and I must
admit that we did drink about eight glasses together. Strictly
speaking, of course, drinking is very harmful. Listen, it is
harmful, isn't it? Is it? Is it?

IVANOFF. This is unendurable! Let me warn you, Misha, that you
are going too far.

BORKIN. Well, well, excuse me. Sit here by yourself then, for
heaven's sake, if it amuses you. [Gets up and goes away] What
extraordinary people one meets in the world. They won't even
allow themselves to be spoken to. [He comes back] Oh, yes, I
nearly forgot. Please let me have eighty-two roubles.

IVANOFF. Why do you want eighty-two roubles?

BORKIN. To pay the workmen to-morrow.

IVANOFF. I haven't the money.

BORKIN. Many thanks. [Angrily] So you haven't the money! And yet
the workmen must be paid, mustn't they?

IVANOFF. I don't know. Wait till my salary comes in on the first
of the month.

BORKIN. How is it possible to discuss anything with a man like
you? Can't you understand that the workmen are coming to-morrow
morning and not on the first of the month?

IVANOFF. How can I help it? I'll be hanged if I can do anything
about it now. And what do you mean by this irritating way you
have of pestering me whenever I am trying to read or write or---

BORKIN. Must the workmen be paid or not, I ask you? But, good
gracious! What is the use of talking to you! [Waves his hand] Do
you think because you own an estate you can command the whole
world? With your two thousand acres and your empty pockets you
are like a man who has a cellar full of wine and no corkscrew. I
have sold the oats as they stand in the field. Yes, sir! And
to-morrow I shall sell the rye and the carriage horses. [He
stamps up and down] Do you think I am going to stand upon
ceremony with you? Certainly not! I am not that kind of a man!

ANNA appears at the open window.

ANNA. Whose voice did I hear just now? Was it yours, Misha? Why
are you stamping up and down?

BORKIN. Anybody who had anything to do with your Nicholas would
stamp up and down.

ANNA. Listen, Misha! Please have some hay carried onto the
croquet lawn.

BORKIN. [Waves his hand] Leave me alone, please!

ANNA. Oh, what manners! They are not becoming to you at all. If
you want to be liked by women you must never let them see you
when you are angry or obstinate. [To her husband] Nicholas, let
us go and play on the lawn in the hay!

IVANOFF. Don't you know it is bad for you to stand at the open
window, Annie? [Calls] Shut the window, Uncle!

[The window is shut from the inside.]

BORKIN. Don't forget that the interest on the money you owe
Lebedieff must be paid in two days.

IVANOFF. I haven't forgotten it. I am going over to see Lebedieff
today and shall ask him to wait

[He looks at his watch.]

BORKIN. When are you going?

IVANOFF. At once.

BORKIN. Wait! Wait! Isn't this Sasha's birthday? So it is! The
idea of my forgetting it. What a memory I have. [Jumps about] I
shall go with you! [Sings] I shall go, I shall go! Nicholas, old
man, you are the joy of my life. If you were not always so
nervous and cross and gloomy, you and I could do great things
together. I would do anything for you. Shall I marry Martha
Babakina and give you half her fortune? That is, not half,
either, but all--take it all!

IVANOFF. Enough of this nonsense!

BORKIN. No, seriously, shan't I marry Martha and halve the money
with you? But no, why should I propose it? How can you
understand? [Angrily] You say to me: "Stop talking nonsense!" You
are a good man and a clever one, but you haven't any red blood in
your veins or any--well, enthusiasm. Why, if you wanted to, you
and I could cut a dash together that would shame the devil
himself. If you were a normal man instead of a morbid
hypochondriac we would have a million in a year. For instance, if
I had twenty-three hundred roubles now I could make twenty
thousand in two weeks. You don't believe me? You think it is all
nonsense? No, it isn't nonsense. Give me twenty-three hundred
roubles and let me try. Ofsianoff is selling a strip of land
across the river for that price. If we buy this, both banks will
be ours, and we shall have the right to build a dam across the
river. Isn't that so? We can say that we intend to build a mill,
and when the people on the river below us hear that we mean to
dam the river they will, of course, object violently and we shall
say: If you don't want a dam here you will have to pay to get us
away. Do you see the result? The factory would give us five
thousand roubles, Korolkoff three thousand, the monastery five
thousand more--

IVANOFF. All that is simply idiotic, Misha. If you don't want me
to lose my temper you must keep your schemes to yourself.

BORKIN. [Sits down at the table] Of course! I knew how it would
be! You never will act for yourself, and you tie my hands so that
I am helpless.

Enter SHABELSKI and LVOFF.

SHABELSKI. The only difference between lawyers and doctors is
that lawyers simply rob you, whereas doctors both rob you and
kill you. I am not referring to any one present. [Sits down on
the bench] They are all frauds and swindlers. Perhaps in Arcadia
you might find an exception to the general rule and yet--I have
treated thousands of sick people myself in my life, and I have
never met a doctor who did not seem to me to be an unmistakable
scoundrel.

BORKIN. [To IVANOFF] Yes, you tie my hands and never do anything
for yourself, and that is why you have no money.

SHABELSKI. As I said before, I am not referring to any one here
at present; there may be exceptions though, after all-- [He
yawns.]

IVANOFF. [Shuts his book] What have you to tell me, doctor?

LVOFF. [Looks toward the window] Exactly what I said this
morning: she must go to the Crimea at once. [Walks up and down.]

SHABELSKI. [Bursts out laughing] To the Crimea! Why don't you and
I set up as doctors, Misha? Then, if some Madame Angot or Ophelia
finds the world tiresome and begins to cough and be consumptive,
all we shall have to do will be to write out a prescription
according to the laws of medicine: that is, first, we shall order
her a young doctor, and then a journey to the Crimea. There some
fascinating young Tartar---

IVANOFF. [Interrupting] Oh, don't be coarse! [To LVOFF] It takes
money to go to the Crimea, and even if I could afford it, you
know she has refused to go.

LVOFF. Yes, she has. [A pause.]

BORKIN. Look here, doctor, is Anna really so ill that she
absolutely must go to the Crimea?

LVOFF. [Looking toward the window] Yes, she has consumption.

BORKIN. Whew! How sad! I have seen in her face for some time that
she could not last much longer.

LVOFF. Can't you speak quietly? She can hear everything you say.
[A pause.]

BORKIN. [Sighing] The life of man is like a flower, blooming so
gaily in a field. Then, along comes a goat, he eats it, and the
flower is gone!

SHABELSKI. Oh, nonsense, nonsense. [Yawning] Everything is a
fraud and a swindle. [A pause.]

BORKIN. Gentlemen, I have been trying to tell Nicholas how he can
make some money, and have submitted a brilliant plan to him, but
my seed, as usual, has fallen on barren soil. Look what a sight
he is now: dull, cross, bored, peevish---

SHABELSKI. [Gets up and stretches himself] You are always
inventing schemes for everybody, you clever fellow, and telling
them how to live; can't you tell me something? Give me some good
advice, you ingenious young man. Show me a good move to make.

BORKIN. [Getting up] I am going to have a swim. Goodbye,
gentlemen. [To Shabelski] There are at least twenty good moves
you could make. If I were you I should have twenty thousand
roubles in a week.

[He goes out; SHABELSKI follows him.]

SHABELSKI. How would you do it? Come, explain.

BORKIN. There is nothing to explain, it is so simple. [Coming
back] Nicholas, give me a rouble.

IVANOFF silently hands him the money

BORKIN. Thanks. Shabelski, you still hold some trump cards.

SHABELSKI follows him out.

SHABELSKI. Well, what are they?

BORKIN. If I were you I should have thirty thousand roubles and
more in a week. [They go out together.]

IVANOFF. [After a pause] Useless people, useless talk, and the
necessity of answering stupid questions, have wearied me so,
doctor, that I am ill. I have become so irritable and bitter that
I don't know myself. My head aches for days at a time. I hear a
ringing in my ears, I can't sleep, and yet there is no escape
from it all, absolutely none.

LVOFF. Ivanoff, I have something serious to speak to you about.

IVANOFF. What is it ?

LVOFF. It is about your wife. She refuses to go to the Crimea
alone, but she would go with you.

IVANOFF. [Thoughtfully] It would cost a great deal for us both to
go, and besides, I could not get leave to be away for so long. I
have had one holiday already this year.

LVOFF. Very well, let us admit that. Now to proceed. The best
cure for consumption is absolute peace of mind, and your wife has
none whatever. She is forever excited by your behaviour to her.
Forgive me, I am excited and am going to speak frankly. Your
treatment of her is killing her. [A pause] Ivanoff, let me
believe better things of you.

IVANOFF. What you say is true, true. I must be terribly guilty,
but my mind is confused. My will seems to be paralysed by a kind
of stupor; I can't understand myself or any one else. [Looks
toward the window] Come, let us take a walk, we might be
overheard here. [They get up] My dear friend, you should hear the
whole story from the beginning if it were not so long and
complicated that to tell it would take all night. [They walk up
and down] Anna is a splendid, an exceptional woman. She has left
her faith, her parents and her fortune for my sake. If I should
demand a hundred other sacrifices, she would consent to every one
without the quiver of an eyelid. Well, I am not a remarkable man
in any way, and have sacrificed nothing. However, the story is a
long one. In short, the whole point is, my dear doctor--
[Confused] that I married her for love and promised to love her
forever, and now after five years she loves me still and I-- [He
waves his hand] Now, when you tell me she is dying, I feel
neither love nor pity, only a sort of loneliness and weariness.
To all appearances this must seem horrible, and I cannot
understand myself what is happening to me. [They go out.]

SHABELSKI comes in.

SHABELSKI. [Laughing] Upon my word, that man is no scoundrel, but
a great thinker, a master-mind. He deserves a memorial. He is the
essence of modern ingenuity, and combines in himself alone the
genius of the lawyer, the doctor, and the financier. [He sits
down on the lowest step of the terrace] And yet he has never
finished a course of studies in any college; that is so
surprising. What an ideal scoundrel he would have made if he had
acquired a little culture and mastered the sciences! "You could
make twenty thousand roubles in a week," he said. "You still hold
the ace of trumps: it is your title." [Laughing] He said I might
get a rich girl to marry me for it! [ANNA opens the window and
looks down] "Let me make a match between you and Martha," says
he. Who is this Martha? It must be that Balabalkina--Babakalkina
woman, the one that looks like a laundress.

ANNA. Is that you, Count?

SHABELSKI. What do you want?

ANNA laughs.

SHABELSKI. [With a Jewish accent] Vy do you laugh?

ANNA. I was thinking of something you said at dinner, do you
remember? How was it--a forgiven thief, a doctored horse.

SHABELSKI. A forgiven thief, a doctored horse, and a
Christianised Jew are all worth the same price.

ANNA. [Laughing] You can't even repeat the simplest saying
without ill-nature. You are a most malicious old man. [Seriously]
Seriously, Count you are extremely disagreeable, and very
tiresome and painful to live with. You are always grumbling and
growling, and everybody to you is a blackguard and a scoundrel.
Tell me honestly, Count, have you ever spoken well of any one?

SHABELSKI. Is this an inquisition?

ANNA. We have lived under this same roof now for five years, and
I have never heard you speak kindly of people, or without
bitterness and derision. What harm has the world done to you? Is
it possible that you consider yourself better than any one else?

SHABELSKI. Not at all. I think we are all of us scoundrels and
hypocrites. I myself am a degraded old man, and as useless as a
cast-off shoe. I abuse myself as much as any one else. I was rich
once, and free, and happy at times, but now I am a dependent, an
object of charity, a joke to the world. When I am at last
exasperated and defy them, they answer me with a laugh. When I
laugh, they shake their heads sadly and say, "The old man has
gone mad." But oftenest of all I am unheard and unnoticed by
every one.

ANNA. [Quietly] Screaming again.

SHABELSKI. Who is screaming?

ANNA. The owl. It screams every evening.

SHABELSKI. Let it scream. Things are as bad as they can be
already. [Stretches himself] Alas, my dear Sarah! If I could only
win a thousand or two roubles, I should soon show you what I
could do. I wish you could see me! I should get away out of this
hole, and leave the bread of charity, and should not show my nose
here again until the last judgment day.

ANNA. What would you do if you were to win so much money?

SHABELSKI. [Thoughtfully] First I would go to Moscow to hear the
Gipsies play, and then--then I should fly to Paris and take an
apartment and go to the Russian Church.

ANNA. And what else?

SHABELSKI. I would go and sit on my wife's grave for days and
days and think. I would sit there until I died. My wife is buried
in Paris. [A pause.]

ANNA. How terribly dull this is! Shall we play a duet?

SHABELSKI. As you like. Go and get the music ready. [ANNA goes
out.]

IVANOFF and LVOFF appear in one of the paths.

IVANOFF. My dear friend, you left college last year, and you are
still young and brave. Being thirty-five years old I have the
right to advise you. Don't marry a Jewess or a bluestocking or a
woman who is queer in any way. Choose some nice, common-place
girl without any strange and startling points in her character.
Plan your life for quiet; the greyer and more monotonous you can
make the background, the better. My dear boy, do not try to fight
alone against thousands; do not tilt with windmills; do not dash
yourself against the rocks. And, above all, may you be spared the
so-called rational life, all wild theories and impassioned talk.
Everything is in the hands of God, so shut yourself up in your
shell and do your best. That is the pleasant, honest, healthy way
to live. But the life I have chosen has been so tiring, oh, so
tiring! So full of mistakes, of injustice and stupidity! [Catches
sight of SHABELSKI, and speaks angrily] There you are again,
Uncle, always under foot, never letting one have a moment's quiet
talk!

SHABELSKI. [In a tearful voice] Is there no refuge anywhere for a
poor old devil like me? [He jumps up and runs into the house.]

IVANOFF. Now I have offended him! Yes, my nerves have certainly
gone to pieces. I must do something about it, I must---

LVOFF. [Excitedly] Ivanoff, I have heard all you have to say
and--and--I am going to speak frankly. You have shown me in your
voice and manner, as well as in your words, the most heartless
egotism and pitiless cruelty. Your nearest friend is dying simply
because she is near you, her days are numbered, and you can feel
such indifference that you go about giving advice and analysing
your feelings. I cannot say all I should like to; I have not the
gift of words, but--but I can at least say that you are deeply
antipathetic to me.

IVANOFF. I suppose I am. As an onlooker, of course you see me
more clearly than I see myself, and your judgment of me is
probably right. No doubt I
 am terribly guilty. [Listens] I think I hear the carriage
coming. I must get ready to go. [He goes toward the house and
then stops] You dislike me, doctor, and you don't conceal it.
Your sincerity does you credit. [He goes into the house.]

LVOFF. [Alone] What a confoundedly disagreeable character! I have
let another opportunity slip without speaking to him as I meant
to, but I simply cannot talk calmly to that man. The moment I
open my mouth to speak I feel such a commotion and suffocation
here [He puts his hand on his breast] that my tongue sticks to
the roof of my mouth. Oh, I loathe that Tartuffe, that
unmitigated rascal, with all my heart! There he is, preparing to
go driving in spite of the entreaties of his unfortunate wife,
who adores him and whose only happiness is his presence. She
implores him to spend at least one evening with her, and he
cannot even do that. Why, he might shoot himself in despair if he
had to stay at home! Poor fellow, what he wants are new fields
for his villainous schemes. Oh, I know why you go to Lebedieff's
every evening, Ivanoff! I know.

Enter IVANOFF, in hat and coat, ANNA and SHABELSKI

SHABELSKI. Look here, Nicholas, this is simply barbarous You go
away every evening and leave us here alone, and we get so bored
that we have to go to bed at eight o'clock. It is a scandal, and
no decent way of living. Why can you go driving if we can't? Why?

ANNA. Leave him alone, Count. Let him go if he wants to.

IVANOFF. How can a sick woman like you go anywhere? You know you
have a cough and must not go out after sunset. Ask the doctor
here. You are no child, Annie, you must be reasonable. And as for
you, what would you do with yourself over there?

SHABELSKI. I am ready to go anywhere: into the jaws of a
crocodile, or even into the jaws of hell, so long as I don't have
to stay here. I am horribly bored. I am stupefied by this
dullness. Every one here is tired of me. You leave me at home to
entertain Anna, but I feel more like scratching and biting her.

ANNA. Leave him alone, Count. Leave him alone. Let him go if he
enjoys himself there.

IVANOFF. What does this mean, Annie? You know I am not going for
pleasure. I must see Lebedieff about the money I owe him.

ANNA. I don't see why you need justify yourself to me. Go ahead!
Who is keeping you?

IVANOFF. Heavens! Don't let us bite one another's heads off. Is
that really unavoidable?

SHABELSKI. [Tearfully] Nicholas, my dear boy, do please take me
with you. I might possibly be amused a little by the sight of all
the fools and scoundrels I should see there. You know I haven't
been off this place since Easter.

IVANOFF. [Exasperated] Oh, very well! Come along then! How
tiresome you all are!

SHABELSKI. I may go? Oh, thank you! [Takes him gaily by the arm
and leads him aside] May I wear your straw hat?

IVANOFF. You may, only hurry, please.

SHABELSKI runs into the house.

IVANOFF. How tired I am of you all! But no, what am I saying?
Annie, my manner to you is insufferable, and it never used to be.
Well, good-bye, Annie. I shall be back by one.

ANNA. Nicholas! My dear husband, stay at home to-night!

IVANOFF. [Excitedly] Darling, sweetheart, my dear, unhappy one, I
implore you to let me leave home in the evenings. I know it is
cruel and unjust to ask this, but let me do you this injustice.
It is such torture for me to stay. As soon as the sun goes down
my soul is overwhelmed by the most horrible despair. Don't ask me
why; I don't know; I swear I don't. This dreadful melancholy
torments me here, it drives me to the Lebedieff's and there it
grows worse than ever. I rush home; it still pursues me; and so I
am tortured all through the night. It is breaking my heart.

ANNA. Nicholas, won't you stay? We will talk together as we used
to. We will have supper together and read afterward. The old
grumbler and I have learned so many duets to play to you. [She
kisses him. Then, after a pause] I can't understand you any more.
This has been going on for a year now. What has changed you so?

IVANOFF. I don't know.

ANNA. And why don't you want me to go driving with you in the
evening?

IVANOFF. As you insist on knowing, I shall have to tell you. It
is a little cruel, but you had best understand. When this
melancholy fit is on me I begin to dislike you, Annie, and at
such times I must escape from you. In short, I simply have to
leave this house.

ANNA. Oh, you are sad, are you? I can understand that! Nicholas,
let me tell you something: won't you try to sing and laugh and
scold as you used to? Stay here, and we will drink some liqueur
together. and laugh, and chase away this sadness of yours in no
time. Shall I sing to you? Or shall we sit in your study in the
twilight as we used to, while you tell me about your sadness? I
can read such suffering in your eyes! Let me look into them and
weep, and our hearts will both be lighter. [She laughs and cries
at once] Or is it really true that the flowers return with every
spring, but lost happiness never returns? Oh, is it? Well, go
then, go!

IVANOFF. Pray for me, Annie! [He goes; then stops and thinks for
a moment] No, I can't do it. [IVANOFF goes out.]

ANNA. Yes, go, go-- [Sits down at the table.]

LVOFF. [Walking up and down] Make this a rule, Madam: as soon as
the sun goes down you must go indoors and not come out again
until morning. The damp evening air is bad for you.

ANNA. Yes, sir!

LVOFF. What do you mean by "Yes, sir"? I am speaking seriously.

ANNA. But I don't want to be serious. [She coughs.]

LVOFF. There now, you see, you are coughing already.

SHABELSKI comes out of the house in his hat and coat.

SHABELSKI. Where is Nicholas? Is the carriage here yet? [Goes
quickly to ANNA and kisses her hand] Good-night, my darling!
[Makes a face and speaks with a Jewish accent] I beg your bardon!
[He goes quickly out.]

LVOFF. Idiot!

A pause; the sounds of a concertina are heard in the distance.

ANNA. Oh, how lonely it is! The coachman and the cook are having
a little ball in there by themselves, and I--I am, as it were,
abandoned. Why are you walking about, Doctor? Come and sit down
here.

LVOFF. I can't sit down.

[A pause.]

ANNA. They are playing "The Sparrow" in the kitchen. [She sings]

   "Sparrow, Sparrow, where are you?
    On the mountain drinking dew."

[A pause] Are your father and mother living, Doctor?

LVOFF. My mother is living; my father is dead.

ANNA. Do you miss your mother very much?

LVOFF. I am too busy to miss any one.

ANNA. [Laughing] The flowers return with every spring, but lost
happiness never returns. I wonder who taught me that? I think it
was Nicholas himself. [Listens] The owl is hooting again.

LVOFF. Well, let it hoot.

ANNA. I have begun to think, Doctor, that fate has cheated me.
Other people who, perhaps, are no better than I am are happy and
have not had to pay for their happiness. But I have paid for it
all, every moment of it, and such a price! Why should I have to
pay so terribly? Dear friend, you are all too considerate and
gentle with me to tell me the truth; but do you think I don't
know what is the matter with me? I know perfectly well. However,
this isn't a pleasant subject-- [With a Jewish accent] "I beg
your bardon!" Can you tell funny stories?

LVOFF. No, I can't.

ANNA. Nicholas can. I am beginning to be surprised, too, at the
injustice of people. Why do they return hatred for love, and
answer truth with lies? Can you tell me how much longer I shall
be hated by my mother and father? They live fifty miles away, and
yet I can feel their hatred day and night, even in my sleep. And
how do you account for the sadness of Nicholas? He says that he
only dislikes me in the evening, when the fit is on him. I
understand that, and can tolerate it, but what if he should come
to dislike me altogether? Of course that is impossible, and
yet--no, no, I mustn't even imagine such a thing. [Sings]

   "Sparrow, Sparrow, where are you?"

[She shudders] What fearful thoughts I have! You are not married,
Doctor; there are many things that you cannot understand.

LVOFF. You say you are surprised, but--but it is you who surprise
me. Tell me, explain to me how you, an honest and intelligent
woman, almost a
 saint, could allow yourself to be so basely deceived and dragged
into this den of bears? Why are you here? What have you in common
with such a cold and heartless--but enough of your husband! What
have you in common with these wicked and vulgar surroundings?
With that eternal grumbler, the crazy and decrepit Count? With
that swindler, that prince of rascals, Misha, with his fool's
face? Tell me, I say, how did you get here?

ANNA. [laughing] That is what he used to say, long ago, oh,
exactly! Only his eyes are larger than yours, and when he was
excited they used to shine like coals--go on, go on!

LVOFF. [Gets up and waves his hand] There is nothing more to say.
Go into the house.

ANNA. You say that Nicholas is not what he should be, that his
faults are so and so. How can you possibly understand him? How
can you learn to know any one in six months? He is a wonderful
man, Doctor, and I am sorry you could not have known him as he
was two or three years ago. He is depressed and silent now, and
broods all day without doing anything, but he was splendid then.
I fell in love with him at first sight. [Laughing] I gave one
look and was caught like a mouse in a trap! So when he asked me
to go with him I cut every tie that bound me to my old life as
one snips the withered leaves from a plant. But things are
different now. Now he goes to the Lebedieff's to amuse himself
with other women, and I sit here in the garden and listen to the
owls. [The WATCHMAN'S rattle is heard] Tell me, Doctor, have you
any brothers and sisters?

LVOFF. No.

ANNA sobs.

LVOFF. What is it? What is the matter?

ANNA. I can't stand it, Doctor, I must go.

LVOFF. Where?

ANNA. To him. I am going. Have the horses harnessed. [She runs
into the house.]

LVOFF. No, I certainly cannot go on treating any one under these
conditions. I not only have to do it for nothing, but I am forced
to endure this agony of mind besides. No, no, I can't stand it. I
have had enough of it. [He goes into the house.]

The curtain falls.

ACT II

The drawing-room of LEBEDIEFFÕS house. In the centre is a door
leading into a garden. Doors open out of the room to the right
and left. The room is furnished with valuable old furniture,
which is carefully protected by linen covers. The walls are hung
with pictures. The room is lighted by candelabra. ZINAIDA is
sitting on a sofa; the elderly guests are sitting in arm-chairs
on either hand. The young guests are sitting about the room on
small chairs. KOSICH, AVDOTIA NAZAROVNA, GEORGE, and others are
playing cards in the background. GABRIEL is standing near the
door on the right. The maid is passing sweetmeats about on a
tray. During the entire act guests come and go from the garden,
through the room, out of the door on the left, and back again.
Enter MARTHA through the door on the right. She goes toward
ZINAIDA.

ZINAIDA. [Gaily] My dearest Martha!

MARTHA. How do you do, Zinaida? Let me congratulate you on your
daughter's birthday.

ZINAIDA. Thank you, my dear; I am delighted to see you. How are
you?

MARTHA. Very well indeed, thank you. [She sits down on the sofa]
Good evening, young people!

The younger guests get up and bow.

FIRST GUEST. [Laughing] Young people indeed! Do you call yourself
an old person?

MARTHA. [Sighing] How can I make any pretense to youth now?

FIRST GUEST. What nonsense! The fact that you are a widow means
nothing. You could beat any pretty girl you chose at a canter.

GABRIEL brings MARTHA some tea.

ZINAIDA. Why do you bring the tea in like that? Go and fetch some
jam to eat with it!

MARTHA. No thank you; none for me, don't trouble yourself. [A
pause.]

FIRST GUEST. [To MARTHA] Did you come through Mushkine on your
way here?

MARTHA. No, I came by way of Spassk. The road is better that way.

FIRST GUEST. Yes, so it is.

KOSICH. Two in spades.

GEORGE. Pass.

AVDOTIA. Pass.

SECOND GUEST. Pass.

MARTHA. The price of lottery tickets has gone up again, my dear.
I have never known such a state of affairs. The first issue is
already worth two hundred and seventy and the second nearly two
hundred and fifty. This has never happened before.

ZINAIDA. How fortunate for those who have a great many tickets!

MARTHA. Don't say that, dear; even when the price of tickets is
high it does not pay to put one's capital into them.

ZINAIDA. Quite true, and yet, my dear, one never can tell what
may happen. Providence is sometimes kind.

THIRD GUEST. My impression is, ladies, that at present capital is
exceedingly unproductive. Shares pay very small dividends, and
speculating is exceedingly dangerous. As I understand it, the
capitalist now finds himself in a more critical position than the
man who---

MARTHA. Quite right.

FIRST GUEST yawns.

MARTHA. How dare you yawn in the presence of ladies?

FIRST GUEST. I beg your pardon! It was quite an accident.

ZINAIDA gets up and goes out through the door on the right.

GEORGE. Two in hearts.

SECOND GUEST. Pass.

KOSICH. Pass.

MARTHA. [Aside] Heavens! This is deadly! I shall die of ennui.

Enter ZINAIDA and LEBEDIEFF through the door on the right.

ZINAIDA. Why do you go off by yourself like a prima donna? Come
and sit with our guests!

[She sits down in her former place.]

LEBEDIEFF. [Yawning] Oh, dear, our sins are heavy! [He catches
sight of MARTHA] Why, there is my little sugar-plum! How is your
most esteemed highness?

MARTHA. Very well, thank you.

LEBEDIEFF. Splendid, splendid! [He sits down in an armchair]
Quite right--Oh, Gabriel!

GABRIEL brings him a glass of vodka and a tumbler of water. He
empties the glass of vodka and sips the water.

FIRST GUEST. Good health to you!

LEBEDIEFF. Good health is too much to ask. I am content to keep
death from the door. [To his wife] Where is the heroine of this
occasion, Zuzu?

KOSICH. [In a plaintive voice] Look here, why haven't we taken
any tricks yet? [He jumps up] Yes, why have we lost this game
entirely, confound it?

AVDOTIA. [Jumps up angrily] Because, friend, you don't know how
to play it, and have no right to be sitting here at all. What
right had you to lead from another suit? Haven't you the ace
left? [They both leave the table and run forward.]

KOSICH. [In a tearful voice] Ladies and gentlemen, let me
explain! I had the ace, king, queen, and eight of diamonds, the
ace of spades and one, just one, little heart, do you understand?
Well, she, bad luck to her, she couldn't make a little slam. I
said one in no-trumps--- *

*The game played is vint, the national card-game of Russia and
the direct ancestor of auction bridge, with which it is almost
identical. [translator's note]

AVDOTIA. [Interrupting him] No, I said one in no-trumps; you said
two in no-trumps---

KOSICH. This is unbearable! Allow me--you had--I had--you had--
[To LEBEDIEFF] But you shall decide it, Paul: I had the ace,
king, queen, and eight of diamonds---

LEBEDIEFF. [Puts his fingers into his ears] Stop, for heaven's
sake, stop!

AVDOTIA. [Yelling] I said no-trumps, and not he!

KOSICH. [Furiously] I'll be damned if I ever sit down to another
game of cards with that old cat!

He rushes into the garden. The SECOND GUEST follows him. GEORGE
is left alone at the table.

AVDOTIA. Whew! He makes my blood boil! Old cat, indeed! You're an
old cat yourself!

MARTHA. How angry you are, aunty!

AVDOTIA. [Sees MARTHA and claps her hands] Are you here, my
darling? My beauty! And was I blind as a bat, and didn't see you?
Darling child! [She kisses her and sits down beside her] How
happy this makes me! Let me feast my eyes on you, my milk-white
swan! Oh, oh, you have bewitched me!

LEBEDIEFF. Why don't you find her a husband instead of singing
her praises?

AVDOTIA. He shall be found. I shall not go to my grave before I
have found a husband for her, and one for Sasha too. I shall not
go to my grave-- [She sighs] But where to find these husbands
nowadays? There sit some possible bridegrooms now, huddled
together like a lot of half-drowned rats!

THIRD GUEST. A most unfortunate comparison! It is my belief,
ladies, that if the young men of our day prefer to remain single,
the fault lies not with them, but with the existing, social
conditions!

LEBEDIEFF. Come, enough of that! Don't give us any mo re
philosophy; I don't like it!

Enter SASHA. She goes up to her father.

SASHA. How can you endure the stuffy air of this room when the
weather is so beautiful?

ZINAIDA. My dear Sasha, don't you see that Martha is here?

SASHA. I beg your pardon.

[She goes up to MARTHA and shakes hands.]

MARTHA. Yes, here I am, my dear little Sasha, and proud to
congratulate you. [They kiss each other] Many happy returns of
the day, dear!

SASHA. Thank you! [She goes and sits down by her father.]

LEBEDIEFF. As you were saying, Avdotia Nazarovna, husbands are
hard to find. I don't want to be rude, but I must say that the
young men of the present are a dull and poky lot, poor fellows!
They can't dance or talk or drink as they should do.

AVDOTIA. Oh, as far as drinking goes, they are all experts. Just
give them--give them---

LEBEDIEFF. Simply to drink is no art. A horse can drink. No, it
must be done in the right way. In my young days we used to sit
and cudgel our brains all day over our lessons, but as soon as
evening came we would fly off on some spree and keep it up till
dawn. How we used to dance and flirt, and drink, too! Or
sometimes we would sit and chatter and discuss everything under
the sun until we almost wagged our tongues off. But now-- [He
waves his hand] Boys are a puzzle to me. They are not willing
either to give a candle to God or a pitchfork to the devil! There
is only one young fellow in the country who is worth a penny, and
he is married. [Sighs] They say, too, that he is going crazy.

MARTHA. Who is he?

LEBEDIEFF. Nicholas Ivanoff.

MARTHA. Yes, he is a fine fellow, only [Makes a face] he is very
unhappy.

ZINAIDA. How could he be otherwise, poor boy! [She sighs] He made
such a bad mistake. When he married that Jewess of his he thought
of course that her parents would give away whole mountains of
gold with her, but, on the contrary, on the day she became a
Christian they disowned her, and Ivanoff has never seen a penny
of the money. He has repented of his folly now, but it is too
late.

SASHA. Mother, that is not true!

MARTHA. How can you say it is not true, Sasha, when we all know
it to be a fact? Why did he have to marry a Jewess? He must have
had some reason for doing it. Are Russian girls so scarce? No, he
made a mistake, poor fellow, a sad mistake. [Excitedly] And what
on earth can he do with her now? Where could she go if he were to
come home some day and say: "Your parents have deceived me; leave
my house at once!" Her parents wouldn't take her back. She might
find a place as a house-maid if she had ever learned to work,
which she hasn't. He worries and worries her now, but the Count
interferes. If it had not been for the Count, he would have
worried her to death long ago.

AVDOTIA. They say he shuts her up in a cellar and stuffs her with
garlic, and she eats and eats until her very soul reeks of it.
[Laughter.]

SASHA. But, father, you know that isn't true!

LEBEDIEFF. What if it isn't, Sasha? Let them spin yarns if it
amuses them. [He calls] Gabriel!

GABRIEL brings him another glass of vodka and a glass of water.

ZINAIDA. His misfortunes have almost ruined him, poor man. His
affairs are in a frightful condition. If Borkin did not take such
good charge of his estate he and his Jewess would soon be
starving to death. [She sighs] And what anxiety he has caused us!
Heaven only knows how we have suffered. Do you realise, my dear,
that for three years he has owed us nine thousand roubles?

MARTHA. [Horrified] Nine thousand!

ZINAIDA. Yes, that is the sum that my dear Paul has undertaken to
lend him. He never knows to whom it is safe to lend money and to
whom it is not. I don't worry about the principal, but he ought
to pay the interest on his debt.

SASHA. [Hotly] Mamma, you have already discussed this subject at
least a thousand times!

ZINAIDA. What difference does it make to you? Why should you
interfere?

SASHA. What is this mania you all have for gossiping about a man
who has never done any of you any harm? Tell me, what harm has he
done you?

THIRD GUEST. Let me say two words, Miss Sasha. I esteem Ivanoff,
and have always found him an honourable man, but, between
ourselves, I also consider him an adventurer.

SASHA. I congratulate you on your opinion!

THIRD GUEST. In proof of its truth, permit me to present to you
the following facts, as they were communicated to me by his
secretary, or shall I say rather, by his factotum, Borkin. Two
years ago, at the time of the cattle plague, he bought some
cattle and had them insured--

ZINAIDA. Yes, I remember hearing' of that.

THIRD GUEST. He had them insured, as you understand, and then
inoculated them with the disease and claimed the insurance.

SASHA. Oh, what nonsense, nonsense, nonsense! No one bought or
inoculated any cattle! The story was invented by Borkin, who then
went about boasting of his clever plan. Ivanoff would not forgive
Borkin for two weeks after he heard of it. He is only guilty of a
weak character and too great faith in humanity. He can't make up
his mind to get rid of that Borkin, and so all his possessions
have been tricked and stolen from him. Every one who has had
anything to do with Ivanoff has taken advantage of his generosity
to grow rich.

LEBEDIEFF. Sasha, you little firebrand, that will do!

SASHA. Why do you all talk like this? This eternal subject of
Ivanoff, Ivanoff, and always Ivanoff has grown insufferable, and
yet you never speak of anything else. [She goes toward the door,
then stops and comes back] I am surprised, [To the young men] and
utterly astonished at your patience, young men! How can you sit
there like that? Aren't you bored? Why, the very air is as dull
as ditchwater! Do, for heaven's sake say something; try to amuse
the girls a little, move about! Or if you can't talk of anything
except Ivanoff, you might laugh or sing or dance---

LEBEDIEFF. [Laughing] That's right, Sasha! Give them a good
scolding.

SASHA. Look here, will you do me a favour? If you refuse to dance
or sing or laugh, if all that is tedious, then let me beg you,
implore you, to summon all your powers, if only for this once,
and make one witty or clever remark. Let it be as impertinent and
malicious as you like, so long as it is funny and original. Won't
you perform this miracle, just once, to surprise us and make us
laugh? Or else you might think of some little thing which you
could all do together, something to make you stir about. Let the
girls admire you for once in their lives! Listen to me! I suppose
you want them to like you? Then why don't try to make them do it?
Oh, dear! There is something wrong with you all! You are a lot of
sleepy stick-in-the-muds! I have told you so a thousand times and
shall always go on repeating it; there is something wrong with
every one of you; something wrong, wrong, wrong!

Enter IVANOFF and SHABELSKI through the door on the right.

SHABELSKI. Who is making a speech here? Is it you, Sasha? [He
laughs and shakes hands with her] Many happy returns of the day,
my dear child. May you live as long as possible in this life, but
never be born again!

ZINAIDA. [Joyfully] My dear Count!

LEBEDIEFF. Who can this be? Not you, Count?

SHABELSKI. [Sees ZINAIDA and MARTHA sitting side by side] Two
gold mines side by side! What a pleasant picture it makes! [He
shakes hands with ZINAIDA] Good evening, Zuzu! [Shakes hands with
MARTHA] Good evening, Birdie!

ZINAIDA. I am charmed to see you, Count. You are a rare visitor
here now. [Calls] Gabriel, bring some tea! Please sit down.

She gets up and goes to the door and back, evidently much
preoccupied. SASHA sits down in her former place. IVANOFF
silently shakes hands with every one.

LEBEDIEFF. [To SHABELSKI] What miracle has brought you here? You
have given us a great surprise. Why, Count, you're a rascal, you
haven't been treating us right at all. [Leads him forward by the
hand] Tell me, why don't you ever come to see us now? Are you
offended?

SHABELSKI. How can I get here to see you? Astride a broomstick? I
have no horses of my own, and Nicholas won't take me with him
when he goes out. He says I must stay at home to amuse Sarah.
Send your horses for me and I shall come with pleasure.

LEBE DIEFF. [With a wave of the hand] Oh, that is easy to say!
But Zuzu would rather have a fit than lend the horses to any one.
My dear, dear old friend, you are more to me than any one I know!
You and I are survivors of those good old days that are gone
forever, and you alone bring back to my mind the love and
longings of my lost youth. Of course I am only joking, and yet,
do you know, I am almost in tears?

SHABELSKI. Stop, stop! You smell like the air of a wine cellar.

LEBEDIEFF. Dear friend, you cannot imagine how lonely I am
without my old companions! I could hang myself! [Whispers] Zuzu
has frightened all the decent men away with her stingy ways, and
now we have only this riff-raff, as you see: Tom, Dick, and
Harry. However, drink your tea.

ZINAIDA. [Anxiously, to GABRIEL] Don't bring it in like that! Go
fetch some jam to eat with it!

SHABELSKI. [Laughing loudly, to IVANOFF] Didn't I tell you so ?
[To LEBEDIEFF] I bet him driving over, that as soon as we arrived
Zuzu would want to feed us with jam!

ZINAIDA. Still joking, Count! [She sits down.]

LEBEDIEFF. She made twenty jars of it this year, and how else do
you expect her to get rid of it?

SHABELSKI. [Sits down near the table] Are you still adding to the
hoard, Zuzu? You will soon have a million, eh?

ZINAIDA. [Sighing] I know it seems as if no one could be richer
than we, but where do they think the money comes from? It is all
gossip.

SHABELSKI. Oh, yes, we all know that! We know how badly you play
your cards! Tell me, Paul, honestly, have you saved up a million
yet?

LEBEDIEFF. I don't know. Ask Zuzu.

SHABELSKI. [To MARTHA] And my plump little Birdie here will soon
have a million too! She is getting prettier and plumper not only
every day, but every hour. That means she has a nice little
fortune.

MARTHA. Thank you very much, your highness, but I don't like such
jokes.

SHABELSKI. My dear little gold mine, do you call that a joke? It
was a wail of the soul, a cry from the heart, that burst through
my lips. My love for you and Zuzu is immense. [Gaily] Oh,
rapture! Oh, bliss! I cannot look at you two without a madly
beating heart!

ZINAIDA. You are still the same, Count. [To GEORGE] Put out the
candles please, George. [GEORGE gives a start. He puts out the
candles and sits down again] How is your wife, Nicholas?

IVANOFF. She is very ill. The doctor said to-day that she
certainly had consumption.

ZINAIDA. Really? Oh, how sad! [She sighs] And we are all so fond
of her!

SHABELSKI. What trash you all talk! That story was invented by
that sham doctor, and is nothing but a trick of his. He wants to
masquerade as an Aesculapius, and so has started this consumption
theory. Fortunately her husband isn't jealous. [IVANOFF makes an
inpatient gesture] As for Sarah, I wouldn't trust a word or an
action of hers. I have made a point all my life of mistrusting
all doctors, lawyers, and women. They are shammers and deceivers.

LEBEDIEFF. [To SHABELSKI] You are an extraordinary person,
Matthew! You have mounted this misanthropic hobby of yours, and
you ride it through thick and thin like a lunatic You are a man
like any other, and yet, from the way you talk one would imagine
that you had the pip, or a cold in the head.

SHABELSKI. Would you have me go about kissing every rascal and
scoundrel I meet?

LEBEDIEFF. Where do you find all these rascals and scoundrels?

SHABELSKI. Of course I am not talking of any one here present,
nevertheless----

LEBEDIEFF. There you are again with your "nevertheless." All this
is simply a fancy of yours.

SHABELSKI. A fancy? It is lucky for you that you have no
knowledge of the world!

LEBEDIEFF. My knowledge of the world is this: I must sit here
prepared at any moment to have death come knocking at the door.
That is my knowledge of the world. At our age, brother, you and I
can't afford to worry about knowledge of the world. So then-- [He
calls] Oh, Gabriel!

SHABELSKI. You have had quite enough already. Look at your nose.

LEBEDIEFF. No matter, old boy. I am not going to be married
to-day.

ZINAIDA. Doctor Lvoff has not been here for a long time. He seems
to have forgotten us.

SASHA. That man is one of my aversions. I can't stand his icy
sense of honour. He can't ask for a glass of water or smoke a
cigarette without making a display of his remarkable honesty.
Walking and talking, it is written on his brow: "I am an honest
man." He is a great bore.

SHABELSKI. He is a narrow-minded, conceited medico. [Angrily] He
shrieks like a parrot at every step: "Make way for honest
endeavour!" and thinks himself another St. Francis. Everybody is
a rascal who doesn't make as much noise as he does. As for his
penetration, it is simply remarkable! If a peasant is well off
and lives decently, he sees at once that he must be a thief and a
scoundrel. If I wear a velvet coat and am dressed by my valet, I
am a rascal and the valet is my slave. There is no place in this
world for a man like him. I am actually afraid of him. Yes,
indeed, he is likely, out of a sense of duty, to insult a man at
any moment and to call him a knave.

IVANOFF. I am dreadfully tired of him, but I can't help liking
him, too, he is so sincere.

SHABELSKI. Oh, yes, his sincerity is beautiful! He came up to me
yesterday evening and remarked absolutely apropos of nothing:
"Count, I have a deep aversion to you!" It isn't as if he said
such things simply, but they are extremely pointed. His voice
trembles, his eyes flash, his veins swell. Confound his infernal
honesty! Supposing I am disgusting and odious to him? What is
more natural? I know that I am, but I don't like to be told so to
my face. I am a worthless old man, but he might have the decency
to respect my grey hairs. Oh, what stupid, heartless honesty!

LEBEDIEFF. Come, come, you have been young yourself, and should
make allowances for him.

SHABELSKI. Yes, I have been young and reckless; I have played the
fool in my day and have seen plenty of knaves and scamps, but I
have never called a thief a thief to his face, or talked of ropes
in the house of a man who had been hung. I knew how to behave,
but this idiotic doctor of yours would think himself in the
seventh heaven of happiness if fate would allow him to pull my
nose in public in the name of morality and human ideals.

LEBEDIEFF. Young men are all stubborn and restive. I had an uncle
once who thought himself a philosopher. He would fill his house
with guests, and after he had had a drink he would get up on a
chair, like this, and begin: "You ignoramuses! You powers of
darkness! This is the dawn of a new life!" And so on and so on;
he would preach and preach---

SASHA. And the guests?

LEBEDIEFF. They would just sit and listen and go on drinking.
Once, though, I challenged him to a duel, challenged my own
uncle! It came out of a discussion about Sir Francis Bacon. I was
sitting, I remember, where Matthew is, and my uncle and the late
Gerasim Nilitch were standing over there, about where Nicholas is
now. Well, Gerasim Nilitch propounded this question---

Enter BORKIN. He is dressed like a dandy and carries a parcel
under his arm. He comes in singing and skipping through the door
on the right. A murmur of approval is heard.

THE GIRLS. Oh, Michael Borkin!

LEBEDIEFF. Hallo, Misha!

SHABELSKI. The soul of the company!

BORKIN. Here we are! [He runs up to SASHA] Most noble Signorina,
let me be so bold as to wish to the whole world many happy
returns of the birthday of such an exquisite flower as you! As a
token of my enthusiasm let me presume to present you with these
fireworks and this Bengal fire of my own manufacture. [He hands
her the parcel] May they illuminate the night as brightly as you
illuminate the shadows of this dark world. [He spreads them out
theatrically before her.]

SASHA. Thank you.

LEBEDIEFF. [Laughing loudly, to IVANOFF] Why don't you send this
Judas packing?

BORKIN. [To LEBEDIEFF] My compliments to you, sir. [To IVANOFF]
How are you, my patron? [Sings] Nicholas voila, hey ho hey! [He
greets everybody in turn] Most highly honoured Zinaida! Oh,
glorious Martha! Most ancient Avdotia! Noblest of Counts!

SHABELSKI. [Laughing] The life of the company! The moment he
comes in the air fe els livelier. Have you noticed it?

BORKIN. Whew! I am tired! I believe I have shaken hands with
everybody. Well, ladies and gentlemen, haven't you some little
tidbit to tell me; something spicy? [Speaking quickly to ZINAIDA]
Oh, aunty! I have something to tell you. As I was on my way
here-- [To GABRIEL] Some tea, please Gabriel, but without jam--as
I was on my way here I saw some peasants down on the river-bank
pulling the bark off the trees. Why don't you lease that meadow?

LEBEDIEFF. [To IVANOFF] Why don't you send that Judas away?

ZINAIDA. [Startled] Why, that is quite true! I never thought of
it.

BORKIN. [Swinging his arms] I can't sit still! What tricks shall
we be up to next, aunty? I am all on edge, Martha, absolutely
exalted. [He sings]

   "Once more I stand before thee!"

ZINAIDA. Think of something to amuse us, Misha, we are all bored.

BORKIN. Yes, you look so. What is the matter with you all? Why
are you sitting there as solemn as a jury? Come, let us play
something; what shall it be? Forfeits? Hide-and-seek? Tag? Shall
we dance, or have the fireworks?

THE GIRLS. [Clapping their hands] The fireworks! The fireworks!
[They run into the garden.]

SASHA. [ To IVANOFF] What makes you so depressed today?

IVANOFF. My head aches, little Sasha, and then I feel bored.

SASHA. Come into the sitting-room with me.

They go out through the door on the right. All the guests go into
the garden and ZINAIDA and LEBEDIEFF are left alone.

ZINAIDA. That is what I like to see! A young man like Misha comes
into the room and in a minute he has everybody laughing. [She
puts out the large lamp] There is no reason the candles should
burn for nothing so long as they are all in the garden. [She
blows out the candles.]

LEBEDIEFF. [Following her] We really ought to give our guests
something to eat, Zuzu!

ZINAIDA. What crowds of candles; no wonder we are thought rich.

LEBEDIEFF. [Still following her] Do let them have something to
eat, Zuzu; they are young and must be hungry by now, poor
things--Zuzu!

ZINAIDA. The Count did not finish his tea, and all that sugar has
been wasted. [Goes out through the door on the left.]

LEBEDIEFF. Bah! [Goes out into the garden.]

Enter IVANOFF and SASHA through the door on the right.

IVANOFF. This is how it is, Sasha: I used to work hard and think
hard, and never tire; now, I neither do anything nor think
anything, and I am weary, body and soul. I feel I am terribly to
blame, my conscience leaves me no peace day or night, and yet I
can't see clearly exactly what my mistakes are. And now comes my
wife's illness, our poverty, this eternal backbiting, gossiping,
chattering, that foolish Borkin--My home has become unendurable
to me, and to live there is worse than torture. Frankly, Sasha,
the presence of my wife, who loves me, has become unbearable. You
are an old friend, little Sasha, you will not be angry with me
for speaking so openly. I came to you to be cheered, but I am
bored here too, something urges me home again. Forgive me, I
shall slip away at once.

SASHA. I can understand your trouble, Nicholas. You are unhappy
because you are lonely. You need some one at your side whom you
can love, someone who understands you.

IVANOFF. What an idea, Sasha! Fancy a crusty old badger like
myself starting a love affair! Heaven preserve me from such
misfortune! No, my little sage, this is not a case for romance.
The fact is, I can endure all I have to suffer: sadness, sickness
of mind, ruin, the loss of my wife, and my lonely, broken old
age, but I cannot, I will not, endure the contempt I have for
myself! I am nearly killed by shame when I think that a strong,
healthy man like myself has become--oh, heaven only knows
what--by no means a Manfred or a Hamlet! There are some
unfortunates who feel flattered when people call them Hamlets and
cynics, but to me it is an insult. It wounds my pride and I am
tortured by shame and suffer agony.

SASHA. [Laughing through her tears] Nicholas, let us run away to
America together!

IVANOFF. I haven't the energy to take such a step as that, and
besides, in America you-- [They go toward the door into the
garden] As a matter of fact, Sasha, this is not a good place for
you to live. When I look about at the men who surround you I am
terrified for you; whom is there you could marry? Your only
chance will be if some passing lieutenant or student steals your
heart and carries you away.

Enter ZINAIDA through the door on the right with a jar of jam.

IVANOFF. Excuse me, Sasha, I shall join you in a minute.

SASHA goes out into the garden.

IVANOFF. [To ZINAIDA] Zinaida, may I ask you a favour?

ZINAIDA. What is it?

IVANOFF. The fact is, you know, that the interest on my note is
due day after to-morrow, but I should be more than obliged to you
if you will let me postpone the payment of it, or would let me
add the interest to the capital. I simply cannot pay it now; I
haven't the money.

ZINAIDA. Oh, Ivanoff, how could I do such a thing? Would it be
business-like? No, no, don't ask it, don't torment an unfortunate
old woman.

IVANOFF. I beg your pardon. [He goes out into the garden.]

ZINAIDA. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! What a fright he gave me! I am
trembling all over. [Goes out through the door on the right.]

Enter KOSICH through the door on the left. He walks across the
stage.

KOSICH. I had the ace, king, queen, and eight of diamonds, the
ace of spades, and one, just one little heart, and she--may the
foul fiend fly away with her,--she couldn't make a little slam!

Goes out through the door on the right. Enter from the garden
AVDOTIA and FIRST GUEST.

AVDOTIA. Oh, how I should like to get my claws into her, the
miserable old miser! How I should like it! Does she think it a
joke to leave us sitting here since five o'clock without even
offering us a crust to eat? What a house! What management!

FIRST GUEST. I am so bored that I feel like beating my head
against the wall. Lord, what a queer lot of people! I shall soon
be howling like a wolf and snapping at them from hunger and
weariness.

AVDOTIA. How I should like to get my claws into her, the old
sinner!

FIRST GUEST. I shall get a drink, old lady, and then home I go! I
won't have anything to do with these belles of yours. How the
devil can a man think of love who hasn't had a drop to drink
since dinner?

AVDOTIA. Come on, we will go and find something.

FIRST GUEST. Sh! Softly! I think the brandy is in the sideboard
in the dining-room. We will find George! Sh!

They go out through the door on the left. Enter ANNA and LVOFF
through the door on the right.

ANNA. No, they will be glad to see us. Is no one here? Then they
must be in the garden.

LVOFF. I should like to know why you have brought me into this
den of wolves. This is no place for you and me; honourable people
should not be subjected to such influences as these.

ANNA. Listen to me, Mr. Honourable Man. When you are escorting a
lady it is very bad manners to talk to her the whole way about
nothing but your own honesty. Such behaviour may be perfectly
honest, but it is also tedious, to say the least. Never tell a
woman how good you are; let her find it out herself. My Nicholas
used only to sing and tell stories when he was young as you are,
and yet every woman knew at once what kind of a man he was.

LVOFF. Don't talk to me of your Nicholas; I know all about him!

ANNA. You are a very worthy man, but you don't know anything at
all. Come into the garden. He never said: "I am an honest man;
these surroundings are too narrow for me." He never spoke of
wolves' dens, called people bears or vultures. He left the animal
kingdom alone, and the most I have ever heard him say when he was
excited was: "Oh, how unjust I have been to-day!" or "Annie, I am
sorry for that man." That's what he would say, but you--

ANNA and LVOFF go out. Enter AVDOTIA and FIRST GUEST through the
door on the left.

FIRST GUEST. There isn't any in the dining-room, so it must be
somewhere in the pantry. We must find George. Come this way,
through the sitting-room.

AVDOTIA. Oh, how I should like to get my claws into her!

They go out through the door on the right. MARTHA and BORKIN run
in laughing from the garden. SHABELSK I comes mincing behind
them, laughing and rubbing his hands.

MARTHA. Oh, I am so bored! [Laughs loudly] This is deadly! Every
one looks as if he had swallowed a poker. I am frozen to the
marrow by this icy dullness. [She skips about] Let us do
something!

BORKIN catches her by the waist and kisses her cheek.

SHABELSKI. [Laughing and snapping his fingers] Well, I'll be
hanged! [Cackling] Really, you know!

MARTHA. Let go! Let go, you wretch! What will the Count think?
Stop, I say!

BORKIN. Angel! Jewel! Lend me twenty-three hundred roubles.

MARTHA. Most certainly not! Do what you please, but I'll thank
you to leave my money alone. No, no, no! Oh, let go, will you?

SHABELSKI. [Mincing around them] The little birdie has its
charms! [Seriously] Come, that will do!

BORKIN. Let us come to the point, and consider my proposition
frankly as a business arrangement. Answer me honestly, without
tricks and equivocations, do you agree to do it or not? Listen to
me; [Pointing to Shabelski] he needs money to the amount of at
least three thousand a year; you need a husband. Do you want to
be a Countess?

SHABELSKI. [Laughing loudly] Oh, the cynic!

BORKIN. Do you want to be a Countess or not?

MARTHA. [Excitedly] Wait a minute; really, Misha, these things
aren't done in a second like this. If the Count wants to marry
me, let him ask me himself, and--and--I don't see, I don't
understand--all this is so sudden---

BORKIN. Come, don't let us beat about the bush; this is a
business arrangement. Do you agree or not?

SHABELSKI. [Chuckling and rubbing his hands] Supposing I do marry
her, eh? Hang it, why shouldn't I play her this shabby trick?
What do you say, little puss? [He kisses her cheek] Dearest
chick-a-biddy!

MARTHA. Stop! Stop! I hardly know what I am doing. Go away!
No--don't go!

BORKIN. Answer at once: is it yes or no? We can't stand here
forever.

MARTHA. Look here, Count, come and visit me for three or four
days. It is gay at my house, not like this place. Come to-morrow.
[To BORKIN] Or is this all a joke?

BORKIN. [Angrily] How could I joke on such a serious subject?

MARTHA. Wait! Stop! Oh, I feel faint! A Countess! I am fainting,
I am falling!

BORKIN and SHABELSKI laugh and catch her by the arms. They kiss
her cheeks and lead her out through the door on the right.
IVANOFF and SASHA run in from the garden.

IVANOFF. [Desperately clutching his head] It can't be true! Don't
Sasha, don't! Oh, I implore you not to!

SASHA. I love you madly. Without you my life can have no meaning,
no happiness, no hope.

IVANOFF. Why, why do you say that? What do you mean? Little
Sasha, don't say it!

SASHA. You were the only joy of my childhood; I loved you body
and soul then, as myself, but now--Oh, I love you, Nicholas! Take
me with you to the ends of the earth, wherever you wish; but for
heaven's sake let us go at once, or I shall die.

IVANOFF. [Shaking with wild laughter] What is this? Is it the
beginning for me of a new life? Is it, Sasha? Oh, my happiness,
my joy! [He draws her to him] My freshness, my youth!

Enter ANNA from the garden. She sees her husband and SASHA, and
stops as if petrified.

IVANOFF. Oh, then I shall live once more? And work?

IVANOFF and SASHA kiss each other. After the kiss they look
around and see ANNA.

IVANOFF. [With horror] Sarah!

The curtain falls.

ACT III

Library in IVANOFF'S house. On the walls hang maps, pictures,
guns, pistols, sickles, whips, etc. A writing-table. On it lie in
disorder knick-knacks, papers, books, parcels, and several
revolvers. Near the papers stand a lamp, a decanter of vodka, and
a plate of salted herrings. Pieces of bread and cucumber are
scattered about. SHABELSKI and LEBEDIEFF are sitting at the
writing-table. BORKIN is sitting astride a chair in the middle of
the room. PETER is standing near the door.

LEBEDIEFF. The policy of France is clear and definite; the French
know what they want: it is to skin those German sausages, but the
Germans must sing another song; France is not the only thorn in
their flesh.

SHABELSKI. Nonsense! In my opinion the Germans are cowards and
the French are the same. They are showing their teeth at one
another, but you can take my word for it, they will not do more
than that; they'll never fight!

BORKIN. Why should they fight? Why all these congresses, this
arming and expense? Do you know what I would do in their place? I
would catch all the dogs in the kingdom and inoculate them with
Pasteur's serum, then I would let them loose in the enemy's
country, and the enemies would all go mad in a month.

LEBEDIEFF. [Laughing] His head is small, but the great ideas are
hidden away in it like fish in the sea!

SHABELSKI. Oh, he is a genius.

LEBEDIEFF. Heaven help you, Misha, you are a funny chap. [He
stops laughing] But how is this, gentlemen? Here we are talking
Germany, Germany, and never a word about vodka! Repetatur! [He
fills three glasses] Here's to you all! [He drinks and eats] This
herring is the best of all relishes.

SHABELSKI. No, no, these cucumbers are better; every wise man
since the creation of the world has been trying to invent
something better than a salted cucumber, and not one has
succeeded. [To PETER] Peter, go and fetch some more cucumbers.
And Peter, tell the cook to make four little onion pasties, and
see that we get them hot.

PETER goes out.

LEBEDIEFF. Caviar is good with vodka, but it must be prepared
with skill. Take a quarter of a pound of pressed caviar, two
little onions, and a little olive oil; mix them together and put
a slice of lemon on top--so! Lord! The very perfume would drive
you crazy!

BORKIN. Roast snipe are good too, but they must be cooked right.
They should first be cleaned, then sprinkled with bread crumbs,
and roasted until they will crackle between the teeth--crunch,
crunch!

SHABELSKI. We had something good at Martha's yesterday: white
mushrooms.

LEBEDIEFF. You don't say so!

SHABELSKI. And they were especially well prepared, too, with
onions and bay-leaves and spices, you know. When the dish was
opened, the odour that floated out was simply intoxicating!

LEBEDIEFF. What do you say, gentlemen? Repetatur! [He drinks]
Good health to you! [He looks at his watch] I must be going. I
can't wait for Nicholas. So you say Martha gave you mushrooms? We
haven't seen one at home. Will you please tell me, Count, what
plot you are hatching that takes you to Martha's so often?

SHABELSKI. [Nodding at BORKIN] He wants me to marry her.

LEBEDIEFF. Wants you to marry her! How old are you?

SHABELSKI. Sixty-two.

LEBEDIEFF. Really, you are just the age to marry, aren't you? And
Martha is just suited to you!

BORKIN. This is not a question of Martha, but of Martha's money.

LEBEDIEFF. Aren't you moonstruck, and don't you want the moon
too?

SHABELSKI. Borkin here is quite in earnest about it; the clever
fellow is sure I shall obey orders, and marry Martha.

BORKIN. What do you mean? Aren't you sure yourself?

SHABELSKI. Are you mad? I never was sure of anything. Bah!

BORKIN. Many thanks! I am much obliged to you for the
information. So you are trying to fool me, are you? First you say
you will marry Martha and then you say you won't; the devil only
knows which you really mean, but I have given her my word of
honour that you will. So you have changed your mind, have you?

SHABELSKI. He is actually in earnest; what an extraordinary man!

BORKIN. [losing his temper] If that is how you feel about it, why
have you turned an honest woman's head? Her heart is set on your
title, and she can neither eat nor sleep for thinking of it. How
can you make a jest of such things? Do you think such behaviour
is honourable?

SHABELSKI. [Snapping his fingers] Well, why not play her this
shabby trick, after all? Eh? Just out of spite? I shall certainly
do it, upon my word I shall! What a joke it will be!

Enter LVOFF.

LEBEDIEFF. We bow before you, Aesculapius! [He shakes hands with
LVOFF and sings]

   "Doctor, doctor, save, oh, save me,
    I am scared to death of dying!"

LVOFF. Hasn't Ivanoff come home yet?

LEBEDIEFF. Not yet. I have been waiting for him myself for over
an hour.

LVOFF walks impatiently up and down.

LEBEDIEFF. How is Anna to-day?

LVO FF. Very ill.

LEBEDIEFF. [Sighing] May one go and pay one's respects to her?

LVOFF. No, please don't. She is asleep, I believe.

LEBEDIEFF. She is a lovely, charming woman. [Sighing] The day she
fainted at our house, on Sasha's birthday, I saw that she had not
much longer to live, poor thing. Let me see, why did she faint?
When I ran up, she was lying on the floor, ashy white, with
Nicholas on his knees beside her, and Sasha was standing by them
in tears. Sasha and I went about almost crazy for a week after
that.

SHABELSKI. [To LVOFF] Tell me, most honoured disciple of science,
what scholar discovered that the frequent visits of a young
doctor were beneficial to ladies suffering from affections of the
chest? It is a remarkable discovery, remarkable! Would you call
such treatment Allopathic or Homeopathic?

LVOFF tries to answer, but makes an impatient gesture instead,
and walks out of the room.

SHABELSKI. What a withering look he gave me!

LEBEDIEFF. Some fiend must prompt you to say such things! Why did
you offend him?

SHABELSKI. [Angrily] Why does he tell such lies? Consumption! No
hope! She is dying! It is nonsense, I can't abide him!

LEBEDIEFF. What makes you think he is lying?

SHABELSKI. [Gets up and walks up and down] I can't bear to think
that a living person could die like that, suddenly, without any
reason at all. Don't let us talk about it!

KOSICH runs in panting.

KOSICH. Is Ivanoff at home? How do you do? [He shakes hands
quickly all round] Is he at home?

BORKIN. No, he isn't.

KOSICH. [Sits down and jumps up again] In that case I must say
goodbye; I must be going. Business, you know. I am absolutely
exhausted; run off my feet!

LEBEDIEFF. Where did you blow in from?

KOSICH. From Barabanoff's. He and I have been playing cards all
night; we have only just stopped. I have been absolutely fleeced;
that Barabanoff is a demon at cards. [In a tearful voice] Just
listen to this: I had a heart and he [He turns to BORKIN, who
jumps away from him] led a diamond, and I led a heart, and he led
another diamond. Well, he didn't take the trick. [To LEBEDIEFF]
We were playing three in clubs. I had the ace and queen, and the
ace and ten of spades--

LEBEDIEFF. [Stopping up his ears] Spare me, for heaven's sake,
spare me!

KOSICH. [To SHABELSKI] Do you understand? I had the ace and queen
of clubs, the ace and ten of spades

SHABELSKI. [Pushes him away] Go away, I don't want to listen to
you!

KOSICH. When suddenly misfortune overtook me. My ace of spades
took the first trick--

SHABELSKI. [Snatching up a revolver] Leave the room, or I shall
shoot!

KOSICH. [Waving his hands] What does this mean? Is this the
Australian bush, where no one has any interests in common? Where
there is no public spirit, and each man lives for himself alone?
However, I must be off. My time is precious. [He shakes hands
with LEBEDIEFF] Pass!

General laughter. KOSICH goes out. In the doorway he runs into
AVDOTIA.

AVDOTIA. [Shrieks] Bad luck to you, you nearly knocked me down.

ALL. Oh, she is always everywhere at once!

AVDOTIA. So this is where you all are? I have been looking for
you all over the house. Good-day to you, boys!

[She shakes hands with everybody.]

LEBEDIEFF. What brings you here?

AVDOTIA. Business, my son. [To SHABELSKI] Business connected with
your highness. She commanded me to bow. [She bows] And to inquire
after your health. She told me to say, the little birdie, that if
you did not come to see her this evening she would cry her eyes
out. Take him aside, she said, and whisper in his ear. But why
should I make a secret of her message? We are not stealing
chickens, but arranging an affair of lawful love by mutual
consent of both parties. And now, although I never drink, I shall
take a drop under these circumstances.

LEBEDIEFF. So shall I. [He pours out the vodka] You must be
immortal, you old magpie! You were an old woman when I first knew
you, thirty years ago.

AVDOTIA. I have lost count of the years. I have buried three
husbands, and would have married a fourth if any one had wanted a
woman without a dowry. I have had eight children. [She takes up
the glass] Well, we have begun a good work, may it come to a good
end! They will live happily ever after, and we shall enjoy their
happiness. Love and good luck to them both! [She drinks] This is
strong vodka!

SHABELSKI. [laughing loudly, to LEBEDIEFF] The funny thing is,
they actually think I am in earnest. How strange! [He gets up]
And yet, Paul, why shouldn't I play her this shabby trick? Just
out of spite? To give the devil something to do, eh, Paul?

LEBEDIEFF. You are talking nonsense, Count. You and I must fix
our thoughts on dying now; we have left Martha's money far behind
us; our day is over.

SHABELSKI. No, I shall certainly marry her; upon my word, I
shall!

Enter IVANOFF and LVOFF.

LVOFF. Will you please spare me five minutes of your time?

LEBEDIEFF. Hallo, Nicholas! [He goes to meet IVANOFF] How are
you, old friend? I have been waiting an hour for you.

AVDOTIA. [Bows] How do you do, my son?

IVANOFF. [Bitterly] So you have turned my library into a bar-room
again, have you? And yet I have begged you all a thousand times
not to do so! [He goes up to the table] There, you see, you have
spilt vodka all over my papers and scattered crumbs and cucumbers
everywhere! It is disgusting!

LEBEDIEFF. I beg your pardon, Nicholas. Please forgive me. I have
something very important to speak to you about.

BORKIN. So have I.

LVOFF. May I have a word with you?

IVANOFF. [Pointing to LEBEDIEFF] He wants to speak to me; wait a
minute. [To LEBEDIEFF] Well, what is it?

LEBEDIEFF. [To the others] Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I
want to speak to him in private.

SHABELSKI goes out, followed by AVDOTIA, BORKIN, and LVOFF.

IVANOFF. Paul, you may drink yourself as much as you choose, it
is your weakness, but I must ask you not to make my uncle tipsy.
He never used to drink at all; it is bad for him.

LEBEDIEFF. [Startled] My dear boy, I didn't know that! I wasn't
thinking of him at all.

IVANOFF. If this old baby should die on my hands the blame would
be mine, not yours. Now, what do you want? [A pause.]

LEBEDIEFF. The fact is, Nicholas--I really don't know how I can
put it to make it seem less brutal--Nicholas, I am ashamed of
myself, I am blushing, my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
My dear boy, put yourself in my place; remember that I am not a
free man, I am as putty in the hands of my wife, a slave--forgive
me!

IVANOFF. What does this mean?

LEBEDIEFF. My wife has sent me to you; do me a favour, be a
friend to me, pay her the interest on the money you owe her.
Believe me, she has been tormenting me and going for me tooth and
nail. For heaven's sake, free yourself from her clutches!

IVANOFF. You know, Paul, that I have no money now.

LEBEDIEFF. I know, I know, but what can I do? She won't wait. If
she should sue you for the money, how could Sasha and I ever look
you in the face again?

IVANOFF. I am ready to sink through the floor with shame, Paul,
but where, where shall I get the money? Tell me, where? There is
nothing I can do but to wait until I sell my wheat in the autumn.

LEBEDIEFF. [Shrieks] But she won't wait! [A pause.]

IVANOFF. Your position is very delicate and unpleasant, but mine
is even worse. [He walks up and down in deep thought] I am at my
wit's end, there is nothing I can sell now.

LEBEDIEFF. You might go to Mulbach and get some money from him;
doesn't he owe you sixty thousand roubles?

IVANOFF makes a despairing gesture.

LEBEDIEFF. Listen to me, Nicholas, I know you will be angry, but
you must forgive an old drunkard like me. This is between
friends; remember I am your friend. We were students together,
both Liberals; we had the same interests and ideals; we studied
together at the University of Moscow. It is our Alma Mater. [He
takes out his purse] I have a private fund here; not a soul at
home knows of its existence. Let me lend it to you. [He takes out
the money and lays it on the table] Forget your pride; this is
between friends! I should take it from you, indeed I should! [A
pause] There is the money, one hundred thousand roubles. Take 
it;
go to her y ourself and say: "Take the money, Zinaida, and may
you choke on it." Only, for heaven's sake, don't let her see by
your manner that you got it from me, or she would certainly go
for me, with her old jam! [He looks intently into IVANOFF'S face]
There, there, no matter. [He quickly takes up the money and
stuffs it back into his pocket] Don't take it, I was only joking.
Forgive me! Are you hurt?

IVANOFF waves his hand.

LEBEDIEFF. Yes, the truth is-- [He sighs] This is a time of
sorrow and pain for you. A man, brother, is like a samovar; he
cannot always stand coolly on a shelf; hot coals will be dropped
into him some day, and then--fizz! The comparison is idiotic, but
it is the best I can think of. [Sighing] Misfortunes wring the
soul, and yet I am not worried about you, brother. Wheat goes
through the mill, and comes out as flour, and you will come
safely through your troubles; but I am annoyed, Nicholas, and
angry with the people around you. The whole countryside is
buzzing with gossip; where does it all start? They say you will
be soon arrested for your debts, that you are a bloodthirsty
murderer, a monster of cruelty, a robber.

IVANOFF. All that is nothing to me; my head is aching.

LEBEDIEFF. Because you think so much.

IVANOFF. I never think.

LEBEDIEFF. Come, Nicholas, snap your fingers at the whole thing,
and drive over to visit us. Sasha loves and understands you. She
is a sweet, honest, lovely girl; too good to be the child of her
mother and me! Sometimes, when I look at her, I cannot believe
that such a treasure could belong to a fat old drunkard like me.
Go to her, talk to her, and let her cheer you. She is a good,
true-hearted girl.

IVANOFF. Paul, my dear friend, please go, and leave me alone.

LEBEDIEFF. I understand, I understand! [He glances at his watch]
Yes, I understand. [He kisses IVANOFF] Good-bye, I must go to the
blessing of the school now. [He goes as far as the door, then
stops] She is so clever! Sasha and I were talking about gossiping
yesterday, and she flashed out this epigram: "Father," she said,
"fire-flies shine at night so that the night-birds may make them
their prey, and good people are made to be preyed upon by gossips
and slanderers." What do you think of that? She is a genius,
another George Sand!

IVANOFF. [Stopping him as he goes out] Paul, what is the matter
with me?

LEBEDIEFF. I have wanted to ask you that myself, but I must
confess I was ashamed to. I don't know, old chap. Sometimes I
think your troubles have been too heavy for you, and yet I know
you are not the kind to give in to them; you would not be
overcome by misfortune. It must be something else, Nicholas, but
what it may be I can't imagine.

IVANOFF. I can't imagine either what the matter is, unless--and
yet no-- [A pause] Well, do you see, this is what I wanted to
say. I used to have a workman called Simon, you remember him.
Once, at threshing-time, to show the girls how strong he was, he
loaded himself with two sacks of rye, and broke his back. He died
soon after. I think I have broken my back also. First I went to
school, then to the university, then came the cares of this
estate, all my plans--I did not believe what others did; did not
marry as others did; I worked passionately, risked everything; no
one else, as you know, threw their money away to right and left
as I did. So I heaped the burdens on my back, and it broke. We
are all heroes at twenty, ready to attack anything, to do
everything, and at thirty are worn-out, useless men. How, oh, how
do you account for this weariness? However, I may be quite wrong;
go away, Paul, I am boring you.

LEBEDIEFF. I know what is the matter with you, old man: you got
out of bed on the wrong side this morning.

IVANOFF. That is stupid, Paul, and stale. Go away!

LEBEDIEFF. It is stupid, certainly. I see that myself now. I am
going at once. [LEBEDIEFF goes out.

IVANOFF. [Alone] I am a worthless, miserable, useless man. Only a
man equally miserable and suffering, as Paul is, could love or
esteem me now. Good God! How I loathe myself! How bitterly I hate
my voice, my hands, my thoughts, these clothes, each step I take!
How ridiculous it is, how disgusting! Less than a year ago I was
healthy and strong, full of pride and energy and enthusiasm. I
worked with these hands here, and my words could move the dullest
man to tears. I could weep with sorrow, and grow indignant at the
sight of wrong. I could feel the glow of inspiration, and
understand the beauty and romance of the silent nights which I
used to watch through from evening until dawn, sitting at my
worktable, and giving up my soul to dreams. I believed in a
bright future then, and looked into it as trustfully as a child
looks into its mother's eyes. And now, oh, it is terrible! I am
tired and without hope; I spend my days and nights in idleness; I
have no control over my feet or brain. My estate is ruined, my
woods are falling under the blows of the axe. [He weeps] My
neglected land looks up at me as reproachfully as an orphan. I
expect nothing, am sorry for nothing; my whole soul trembles at
the thought of each new day. And what can I think of my treatment
of Sarah? I promised her love and happiness forever; I opened her
eyes to the promise of a future such as she had never even
dreamed of. She believed me, and though for five years I have
seen her sinking under the weight of her sacrifices to me, and
losing her strength in her struggles with her conscience, God
knows she has never given me one angry look, or uttered one word
of reproach. What is the result? That I don't love her! Why? Is
it possible? Can it be true? I can't understand. She is
suffering; her days are numbered; yet I fly like a contemptible
coward from her white face, her sunken chest, her pleading eyes.
Oh, I am ashamed, ashamed! [A pause] Sasha, a young girl, is
sorry for me in my misery. She confesses to me that she loves me;
me, almost an old man! Whereupon I lose my head, and exalted as
if by music, I yell: "Hurrah for a new life and new happiness!"
Next day I believe in this new life and happiness as little as I
believe in my happiness at home. What is the matter with me? What
is this pit I am wallowing in? What is the cause of this
weakness? What does this nervousness come from? If my sick wife
wounds my pride, if a servant makes a mistake, if my gun misses
fire, I lose my temper and get violent and altogether unlike
myself. I can't, I can't understand it; the easiest way out would
be a bullet through the head!

Enter LVOFF.

LVOFF. I must have an explanation with you, Ivanoff.

IVANOFF. If we are going to have an explanation every day,
doctor, we shall neither of us have the strength to stand it.

LVOFF. Will you be good enough to hear me?

IVANOFF. I have heard all you have told me every day, and have
failed to discover yet what you want me to do.

LVOFF. I have always spoken plainly enough, and only an utterly
heartless and cruel man could fail to understand me.

IVANOFF. I know that my wife is dying; I know that I have sinned
irreparably; I know that you are an honest man. What more can you
tell me?

LVOFF. The sight of human cruelty maddens me. The woman is dying
and she has a mother and father whom she loves, and longs to see
once more before she dies. They know that she is dying and that
she loves them still, but with diabolical cruelty, as if to
flaunt their religious zeal, they refuse to see her and forgive
her. You are the man for whom she has sacrificed her home, her
peace of mind, everything. Yet you unblushingly go gadding to the
Lebedieffs' every evening, for reasons that are absolutely
unmistakable!

IVANOFF. Ah me, it is two weeks since I was there!

LVOFF. [Not listening to him] To men like yourself one must speak
plainly, and if you don't want to hear what I have to say, you
need not listen. I always call a spade a spade; the truth is, you
want her to die so that the way may be cleared for your other
schemes. Be it so; but can't you wait? If, instead of crushing
the life out of your wife by your heartless egoism, you let her
die naturally, do you think you would lose Sasha and Sasha's
money? Such an absolute Tartuffe as you are could turn the girl's
 head and get her money a year from now as easily as you can
to-day. Why are you in such a hurry? Why do you want your wife to
die now, instead of in a month's time, or a year's?

IVANOFF. This is torture! You are a very bad doctor if you think
a man can control himself forever. It is all I can do not to
answer your insults.

LVOFF. Look here, whom are you trying to deceive? Throw off this
disguise!

IVANOFF. You who are so clever, you think that nothing in the
world is easier than to understand me, do you? I married Annie
for her money, did I? And when her parents wouldn't give it to
me, I changed my plans, and am now hustling her out of the world
so that I may marry another woman, who will bring me what I want?
You think so, do you? Oh, how easy and simple it all is! But you
are mistaken, doctor; in each one of us there are too many
springs, too many wheels and cogs for us to judge each other by
first impressions or by two or three external indications. I can
not understand you, you cannot understand me, and neither of us
can understand himself. A man may be a splendid doctor, and at
the same time a very bad judge of human nature; you will admit
that, unless you are too self-confident.

LVOFF. Do you really think that your character is so mysterious,
and that I am too stupid to tell vice from virtue?

IVANOFF. It is clear that we shall never agree, so let me beg you
to answer me now without any more preamble: exactly what do you
want me to do? [Angrily] What are you after anyway? And with whom
have I the honour of speaking? With my lawyer, or with my wife's
doctor?

LVOFF. I am a doctor, and as such I demand that you change your
conduct toward your wife; it is killing her.

IVANOFF. What shall I do? Tell me! If you understand me so much
better than I understand myself, for heaven's sake tell me
exactly what to do!

LVOFF. In the first place, don't be so unguarded in your
behaviour.

IVANOFF. Heaven help me, do you mean to say that you understand
yourself? [He drinks some water] Now go away; I am guilty a
thousand times over; I shall answer for my sins before God; but
nothing has given you the right to torture me daily as you do.

LVOFF. Who has given you the right to insult my sense of honour?
You have maddened and poisoned my soul. Before I came to this
place I knew that stupid, crazy, deluded people existed, but I
never imagined that any one could be so criminal as to turn his
mind deliberately in the direction of wickedness. I loved and
esteemed humanity then, but since I have known you--

IVANOFF. I have heard all that before.

LVOFF. You have, have you?

He goes out, shrugging his shoulders. He sees SASHA, who comes in
at this moment dressed for riding.

LVOFF. Now, however, I hope that we can understand one another!

IVANOFF. [Startled] Oh, Sasha, is that you?

SASHA. Yes, it is I. How are you? You didn't expect me, did you?
Why haven't you been to see us?

IVANOFF. Sasha, this is really imprudent of you! Your coming will
have a terrible effect on my wife!

SASHA. She won't see me; I came in by the back entrance; I shall
go in a minute. I am so anxious about you. Tell me, are you well?
Why haven't you been to see us for such a long time?

IVANOFF. My wife is offended already, and almost dying, and now
you come here; Sasha, Sasha, this is thoughtless and unkind of
you.

SASHA. How could I help coming? It is two weeks since you were at
our house, and you have not answered my letters. I imagined you
suffering dreadfully, or ill, or dead. I have not slept for
nights. I am going now, but first tell me that you are well.

IVANOFF. No, I am not well. I am a torment to myself, and every
one torments me without end. I can't stand it! And now you come
here. How morbid and unnatural it all is, Sasha. I am terribly
guilty.

SASHA. What dreadful, pitiful speeches you make! So you are
guilty, are you? Tell me, then, what is it you have done?

IVANOFF I don't know; I don't know!

SASHA. That is no answer. Every sinner should know what he is
guilty of. Perhaps you have been forging money?

IVANOFF. That is stupid.

SASHA. Or are you guilty because you no longer love your wife?
Perhaps you are, but no one is master of his feelings, and you
did not mean to stop loving her. Do you feel guilty because she
saw me telling you that I love you? No, that cannot be, because
you did not want her to see it--

IVANOFF. [Interrupting her] And so on, and so on! First you say I
love, and then you say I don't; that I am not master of my
feelings. All these are commonplace, worn-out sentiments, with
which you cannot help me.

SASHA. It is impossible to talk to you. [She looks at a picture
on the wall] How well those dogs are drawn! Were they done from
life?

IVANOFF. Yes, from life. And this whole romance of ours is a
tedious old story; a man loses heart and begins to go down in the
world; a girl appears, brave and strong of heart, and gives him a
hand to help him to rise again. Such situations are pretty, but
they are only found in novels and not in real life.

SASHA. No, they are found in real life too.

IVANOFF. Now I see how well you understand real life! My
sufferings seem noble to you; you imagine you have discovered in
me a second Hamlet; but my state of mind in all its phases is
only fit to furnish food for contempt and derision. My
contortions are ridiculous enough to make any one die of
laughter, and you want to play the guardian angel; you want to do
a noble deed and save me. Oh, how I hate myself to-day! I feel
that this tension must soon be relieved in some way. Either I
shall break something, or else--

SASHA. That is exactly what you need. Let yourself go! Smash
something; break it to pieces; give a yell! You are angry with
me, it was foolish of me to come here. Very well, then, get
excited about it; storm at me; stamp your feet! Well, aren't you
getting angry?

IVANOFF. You ridiculous girl!

SASHA. Splendid! So we are smiling at last! Be kind, do me the
favour of smiling once more!

IVANOFF. [Laughing] I have noticed that whenever you start
reforming me and saving my soul, and teaching me how to be good,
your face grows naive, oh so naive, and your eyes grow as wide as
if you were looking at a comet. Wait a moment; your shoulder is
covered with dust. [He brushes her shoulder] A naive man is
nothing better than a fool, but you women contrive to be naive in
such a way that in you it seems sweet, and gentle, and proper,
and not as silly as it really is. What a strange way you have,
though, of ignoring a man as long as he is well and happy, and
fastening yourselves to him as soon as he begins to whine and go
down-hill! Do you actually think it is worse to be the wife of a
strong man than to nurse some whimpering invalid?

SASHA. Yes, it is worse.

IVANOFF. Why do you think so? [Laughing loudly] It is a good
thing Darwin can't hear what you are saying! He would be furious
with you for degrading the human race. Soon, thanks to your
kindness, only invalids and hypochondriacs will be born into the
world.

SASHA. There are a great many things a man cannot understand. Any
girl would rather love an unfortunate man than a fortunate one,
because every girl would like to do something by loving. A man
has his work to do, and so for him love is kept in the
background. To talk to his wife, to walk with her in the garden,
to pass the time pleasantly with her, that is all that love means
to a man. But for us, love means life. I love you; that means
that I dream only of how I shall cure you of your sadness, how I
shall go with you to the ends of the earth. If you are in heaven,
I am in heaven; if you are in the pit, I am in the pit. For
instance, it would be the greatest happiness for me to write all
night for you, or to watch all night that no one should wake you.
I remember that three years ago, at threshing time, you came to
us all dusty and sunburnt and tired, and asked for a drink. When
I brought you a glass of water you were already lying on the sofa
and sleeping like a dead man. You slept there for half a day, and
all that time I watched by the door that no one should disturb
you. How happy I was! The more a girl can do, the greater her
love  will be; that is,
 I mean, the more she feels it

IVANOFF. The love that accomplishes things--hm--that is a fairy
tale, a girl's dream; and yet, perhaps it is as it should be. [He
shrugs his shoulders] How can I tell? [Gaily] On my honour,
Sasha, I really am quite a respectable man. Judge for yourself: I
have always liked to discuss things, but I have never in my life
said that our women were corrupt, or that such and such a woman
was on the down-hill path. I have always been grateful, and
nothing more. No, nothing more. Dear child, how comical you are!
And what a ridiculous old stupid I am! I shock all good Christian
folk, and go about complaining from morning to night. [He laughs
and then leaves her suddenly] But you must go, Sasha; we have
forgotten ourselves.

SASHA. Yes, it is time to go. Good-bye. I am afraid that that
honest doctor of yours will have told Anna out of a sense of duty
that I am here. Take my advice: go at once to your wife and stay
with her. Stay, and stay, and stay, and if it should be for a
year, you must still stay, or for ten years. It is your duty. You
must repent, and ask her forgiveness, and weep. That is what you
ought to do, and the great thing is not to forget to do right.

IVANOFF. Again I feel as if I were going crazy; again!

SASHA. Well, heaven help you! You must forget me entirely. In two
weeks you must send me a line and I shall be content with that.
But I shall write to you--

BORKIN looks in at the door.

BORKIN. Ivanoff, may I come in? [He sees SASHA] I beg your
pardon, I did not see you. Bonjour! [He bows.]

SASHA. [Embarrassed] How do you do?

BORKIN. You are plumper and prettier than ever.

SASHA. [To IVANOFF] I must go, Nicholas, I must go. [She goes
out.]

BORKIN. What a beautiful apparition! I came expecting prose and
found poetry instead. [Sings]

"You showed yourself to the world as a bird---"

IVANOFF walks excitedly up and down.

BORKIN. [Sits down] There is something in her, Nicholas, that one
doesn't find in other women, isn't there? An elfin strangeness.
[He sighs] Although she is without doubt the richest girl in the
country, her mother is so stingy that no one will have her. After
her mother's death Sasha will have the whole fortune, but until
then she will only give her ten thousand roubles and an old
flat-iron, and to get that she will have to humble herself to the
ground. [He feels in his pockets] Will you have a smoke? [He
offers IVANOFF his cigarette case] These are very good.

IVANOFF. [Comes toward BORKIN stifled with rage] Leave my house
this instant, and don't you ever dare to set foot in it again! Go
this instant!

BORKIN gets up and drops his cigarette.

IVANOFF. Go at once!

BORKIN. Nicholas, what do you mean? Why are you so angry?

IVANOFF. Why! Where did you get those cigarettes? Where? You
think perhaps that I don't know where you take the old man every
day, and for what purpose?

BORKIN. [Shrugs his shoulders] What business is it of yours?

IVANOFF. You blackguard, you! The disgraceful rumours that you
have been spreading about me have made me disreputable in the
eyes of the whole countryside. You and I have nothing in common,
and I ask you to leave my house this instant.

BORKIN. I know that you are saying all this in a moment of
irritation, and so I am not angry with you. Insult me as much as
you please. [He picks up his cigarette] It is time though, to
shake off this melancholy of yours; you're not a schoolboy.

IVANOFF. What did I tell you? [Shuddering] Are you making fun of
me?

Enter ANNA.

BORKIN. There now, there comes Anna! I shall go.

IVANOFF stops near the table and stands with his head bowed.

ANNA. [After a pause] What did she come here for? What did she
come here for, I ask you?

IVANOFF. Don't ask me, Annie. [A pause] I am terribly guilty.
Think of any punishment you want to inflict on me; I can stand
anything, but don't, oh, don't ask questions!

ANNA. [Angrily] So that is the sort of man you are? Now I
understand you, and can see how degraded, how dishonourable you
are! Do you remember that you came to me once and lied to me
about your love? I believed you, and left my mother, my father,
and my faith to follow you. Yes, you lied to me of goodness and
honour, of your noble aspirations and I believed every word---

IVANOFF. I have never lied to you, Annie.

ANNA. I have lived with you five years now, and I am tired and
ill, but I have always loved you and have never left you for a
moment. You have been my idol, and what have you done? All this
time you have been deceiving me in the most dastardly way---

IVANOFF. Annie, don't say what isn't so. I have made mistakes,
but I have never told a lie in my life. You dare not accuse me of
that!

ANNA. It is all clear to me now. You married me because you
expected my mother and father to forgive me and give you my
money; that is what you expected.

IVANOFF. Good Lord, Annie! If I must suffer like this, I must
have the patience to bear it. [He begins to weep.]

ANNA. Be quiet! When you found that I wasn't bringing you any
money, you tried another game. Now I remember and understand
everything. [She begins to cry] You have never loved me or been
faithful to me--never!

IVANOFF. Sarah! That is a lie! Say what you want, but don't
insult me with a lie!

ANNA. You dishonest, degraded man! You owe money to Lebedieff,
and now, to escape paying your debts, you are trying to turn the
head of his daughter and betray her as you have betrayed me. Can
you deny it?

IVANOFF. [Stifled with rage] For heaven's sake, be quiet! I can't
answer for what I may do! I am choking with rage and I--I might
insult you!

ANNA. I am not the only one whom you have basely deceived. You
have always blamed Borkin for all your dishonest tricks, but now
I know whose they are.

IVANOFF. Sarah, stop at once and go away, or else I shall say
something terrible. I long to say a dreadful, cruel thing [He
shrieks] Hold your tongue, Jewess!

ANNA. I won't hold my tongue! You have deceived me too long for
me to be silent now.

IVANOFF. So you won't be quiet? [He struggles with himself] Go,
for heaven's sake!

ANNA. Go now, and betray Sasha!

IVANOFF. Know then that you--are dying! The doctor told me that
you are dying.

ANNA. [Sits down and speaks in a low voice] When did he

IVANOFF. [Clutches his head with both hands] Oh, how guilty I
am--how guilty! [He sobs.]

The curtain falls.

About a year passes between the third and fourth acts.

ACT IV

A sitting-room in LEBEDIEFF'S house. In the middle of the wall at
the back of the room is an arch dividing the sitting-room from
the ballroom. To the right and left are doors. Some old bronzes
are placed about the room; family portraits are hanging on the
walls. Everything is arranged as if for some festivity. On the
piano lies a violin; near it stands a violoncello. During the
entire act guests, dressed as for a ball, are seen walking about
in the ball-room.

Enter LVOFF, looking at his watch.

LVOFF. It is five o'clock. The ceremony must have begun. First
the priest will bless them, and then they will be led to the
church to be married. Is this how virtue and justice triumph? Not
being able to rob Sarah, he has tortured her to death; and now he
has found another victim whom he will deceive until he has robbed
her, and then he will get rid of her as he got rid of poor Sarah.
It is the same old sordid story. [A pause] He will live to a fine
old age in the seventh heaven of happiness, and will die with a
clear conscience. No, Ivanoff, it shall not be! I shall drag your
villainy to light! And when I tear off that accursed mask of
yours and show you to the world as the blackguard you are, you
shall come plunging down headfirst from your seventh heaven, into
a pit so deep that the devil himself will not be able to drag you
out of it! I am a man of honour; it is my duty to interfere in
such cases as yours, and to open the eyes of the blind. I shall
fulfil my mission, and to-morrow will find me far away from this
accursed place. [Thoughtfully] But what shall I do? To have an
explanation with Lebedieff would be a hopeless task. Shall I make
a scandal, and challenge Ivanoff to a duel? I am as excited as a
child, and have entirely lost th e power of planning anything.
What shall I do? Shall I fight a duel?

Enter KOSICH. He goes gaily up to LVOFF.

KOSICH. I declared a little slam in clubs yesterday, and made a
grand slam! Only that man Barabanoff spoilt the whole game for me
again. We were playing--well, I said "No trumps" and he said
"Pass." "Two in clubs," he passed again. I made it two in hearts.
He said "Three in clubs," and just imagine, can you, what
happened? I declared a little slam and he never showed his ace!
If he had showed his ace, the villain, I should have declared a
grand slam in no trumps!

LVOFF. Excuse me, I don't play cards, and so it is impossible for
me to share your enthusiasm. When does the ceremony begin?

KOSICH. At once, I think. They are now bringing Zuzu to herself
again. She is bellowing like a bull; she can't bear to see the
money go.

LVOFF. And what about the daughter?

KOSICH. No, it is the money. She doesn't like this affair anyway.
He is marrying her daughter, and that means he won't pay his
debts for a long time. One can't sue one's son-in-law.

MARTHA, very much dressed up, struts across the stage past LVOFF
and KOSICH. The latter bursts out laughing behind his hand.
MARTHA looks around.

MARTHA. Idiot!

KOSICH digs her in the ribs and laughs loudly.

MARTHA. Boor!

KOSICH. [Laughing] The woman's head has been turned. Before she
fixed her eye on a title she was like any other woman, but there
is no coming near her now! [Angrily] A boor, indeed!

LVOFF. [Excitedly] Listen to me; tell me honestly, what do you
think of Ivanoff?

KOSICH. He's no good at all. He plays cards like a lunatic. This
is what happened last year during Lent: I, the Count, Borkin and
he, sat down to a game of cards. I led a---

LVOFF [Interrupting him] Is he a good man?

KOSICH. He? Yes, he's a good one! He and the Count are a pair of
trumps. They have keen noses for a good game. First, Ivanoff set
his heart on the Jewess, then, when his schemes failed in that
quarter, he turned his thoughts toward Zuzu's money-bags. I'll
wager you he'll ruin Zuzu in a year. He will ruin Zuzu, and the
Count will ruin Martha. They will gather up all the money they
can lay hands on, and live happily ever after! But, doctor, why
are you so pale to-day? You look like a ghost.

LVOFF. Oh, it's nothing. I drank a little too much yesterday.

Enter LEBEDIEFF with SASHA.

LEBEDIEFF. We can have our talk here. [To LVOFF and KOSICH] Go
into the ball-room, you two old fogies, and talk to the girls.
Sasha and I want to talk alone here.

KOSICH. [Snapping his fingers enthusiastically as he goes by
SASHA] What a picture! A queen of trumps!

LEBEDIEFF. Go along, you old cave-dweller; go along.

KOSICH and LVOFF go out.

LEBEDIEFF. Sit down, Sasha, there-- [He sits down and looks about
him] Listen to me attentively and with proper respect. The fact
is, your mother has asked me to say this, do you understand? I am
not speaking for myself. Your mother told me to speak to you.

SASHA. Papa, do say it briefly!

LEBEDIEFF. When you are married we mean to give you fifteen
thousand roubles. Please don't let us have any discussion about
it afterward. Wait, now! Be quiet! That is only the beginning.
The best is yet to come. We have allotted you fifteen thousand
roubles, but in consideration of the fact that Nicholas owes your
mother nine thousand, that sum will have to be deducted from the
amount we mean to give you. Very well. Now, beside that---

SASHA. Why do you tell me all this?

LEBEDIEFF. Your mother told me to.

SASHA. Leave me in peace! If you had any respect for yourself or
me you could not permit yourself to speak to me in this way. I
don't want your money! I have not asked for it, and never shall.

LEBEDIEFF. What are you attacking me for? The two rats in Gogol's
fable sniffed first and then ran away, but you attack without
even sniffing.

SASHA. Leave me in peace, and do not offend my ears with your
two-penny calculations.

LEBEDIEFF. [Losing his temper] Bah! You all, every one of you, do
all you can to make me cut my throat or kill somebody. One of you
screeches and fusses all day and counts every penny, and the
other is so clever and humane and emancipated that she cannot
understand her own father! I offend your ears, do I? Don't you
realise that before I came here to offend your ears I was being
torn to pieces over there, [He points to the door] literally
drawn and quartered? So you cannot understand? You two have
addled my brain till I am utterly at my wits' end; indeed I am!
[He goes toward the door, and stops] I don't like this business
at all; I don't like any thing about you--

SASHA. What is it, especially, that you don't like?

LEBEDIEFF. Everything, everything!

SASHA. What do you mean by everything?

LEBEDIEFF. Let me explain exactly what I mean. Everything
displeases me. As for your marriage, I simply can't abide it. [He
goes up to SASHA and speaks caressingly] Forgive me, little
Sasha, this marriage may be a wise one; it may be honest and not
misguided, nevertheless, there is something about the whole
affair that is not right; no, not right! You are not marrying as
other girls do; you are young and fresh and pure as a drop of
water, and he is a widower, battered and worn. Heaven help him. I
don't understand him at all. [He kisses his daughter] Forgive me
for saying so, Sasha, but I am sure there is something crooked
about this affair; it is making a great deal of talk. It seems
people are saying that first Sarah died, and then suddenly
Ivanoff wanted to marry you. [Quickly] But, no, I am like an old
woman; I am gossiping like a magpie. You must not listen to me or
any one, only to your own heart.

SASHA. Papa, I feel myself that there is something wrong about my
marriage. Something wrong, yes, wrong! Oh, if you only knew how
heavy my heart is; this is unbearable! I am frightened and
ashamed to confess this; Papa darling, you must help me, for
heaven's sake. Oh, can't you tell me what I should do?

LEBEDIEFF. What is the matter, Sasha, what is it?

SASHA. I am so frightened, more frightened than I have ever been
before. [She glances around her] I cannot understand him now, and
I never shall. He has not smiled or looked straight into my eyes
once since we have been engaged. He is forever complaining and
apologising for something; hinting at some crime he is guilty of,
and trembling. I am so tired! There are even moments when I
think--I think--that I do not love him as I should, and when he
comes to see us, or talks to me, I get so tired! What does it
mean, dear father? I am afraid.

LEBEDIEFF. My darling, my only child, do as your old father
advises you; give him up!

SASHA. [Frightened] Oh! How can you say that?

LEBEDIEFF. Yes, do it, little Sasha! It will make a scandal, all
the tongues in the country will be wagging about it, but it is
better to live down a scandal than to ruin one's life.

SASHA. Don't say that, father. Oh, don't. I refuse to listen! I
must crush such gloomy thoughts. He is good and unhappy and
misunderstood. I shall love him and learn to understand him. I
shall set him on his feet again. I shall do my duty. That is
settled.

LEBEDIEFF. This is not your duty, but a delusion--

SASHA. We have said enough. I have confessed things to you that I
have not dared to admit even to myself. Don't speak about this to
any one. Let us forget it.

LEBEDIEFF. I am hopelessly puzzled, and either my mind is going
from old age or else you have all grown very clever, but I'll be
hanged if I understand this business at all.

Enter SHABELSKI.

SHABELSKI. Confound you all and myself, too! This is maddening!

LEBEDIEFF. What do you want?

SHABELSKI Seriously, I must really do something horrid and
rascally, so that not only I but everybody else will be disgusted
by it. I certainly shall find something to do, upon my word I
shall! I have already told Borkin to announce that I am to be
married. [He laughs] Everybody is a scoundrel and I must be one
too!

LEBEDIEFF. I am tired of you, Matthew. Look here, man you talk in
such a way that, excuse my saying so, you will soon find yourself
in a lunatic asylum!

SHABELSKI. Could a lunatic asylum possibly be worse than this
house, or any othe r? Kindly take me there at once. Please do!
Everybody is wicked and futile and worthless and stupid; I am an
object of disgust to myself, I don't believe a word I say----

LEBEDIEFF. Let me give you a piece of advice, old man; fill your
mouth full of tow, light it, and blow at everybody. Or, better
still, take your hat and go home. This is a wedding, we all want
to enjoy ourselves and you are croaking like a raven. Yes,
really.

SHABELSKI leans on the piano and begins to sob.

LEBEDIEFF. Good gracious, Matthew, Count! What is it, dear
Matthew, old friend? Have I offended you? There, forgive me; I
didn't mean to hurt you. Come, drink some water.

SHABELSKI. I don't want any water. [Raises his head.]

LEBEDIEFF. What are you crying about?

SHABELSKI. Nothing in particular; I was just crying.

LEBEDIEFF. Matthew, tell me the truth, what is it? What has
happened?

SHABELSKI. I caught sight of that violoncello, and--and--I
remembered the Jewess.

LEBEDIEFF. What an unfortunate moment you have chosen to remember
her. Peace be with her! But don't think of her now.

SHABELSKI. We used to play duets together. She was a beautiful, a
glorious woman.

SASHA sobs.

LEBEDIEFF. What, are you crying too? Stop, Sasha! Dear me, they
are both howling now, and I--and I-- Do go away; the guests will
see you!

SHABELSKI. Paul, when the sun is shining, it is gay even in a
cemetery. One can be cheerful even in old age if it is lighted by
hope; but I have nothing to hope for--not a thing!

LEBEDIEFF. Yes, it is rather sad for you. You have no children,
no money, no occupation. Well, but what is there to be done about
it? [To SASHA] What is the matter with you, Sasha?

SHABELSKI. Paul, give me some money. I will repay you in the next
world. I would go to Paris and see my wife's grave. I have given
away a great deal of money in my life, half my fortune indeed,
and I have a right to ask for some now. Besides, I am asking a
friend

LEBEDIEFF. [Embarrassed] My dear boy, I haven't a penny. All
right though. That is to say, I can't promise anything, but you
understand--very well, very well. [Aside] This is agony!

Enter MARTHA.

MARTHA. Where is my partner? Count, how dare you leave me alone?
You are horrid! [She taps SHABELSKI on the arm with her fan]

SHABELSKI. [Impatiently] Leave me alone! I can't abide you!

MARTHA. [Frightened] How? What?

SHABELSKI. Go away!

MARTHA. [Sinks into an arm-chair] Oh! Oh! Oh! [She bursts into
tears.]

Enter ZINAIDA crying.

ZINAIDA. Some one has just arrived; it must be one of the ushers.
It is time for the ceremony to begin.

SASHA. [Imploringly] Mother!

LEBEDIEFF. Well, now you are all bawling. What a quartette! Come,
come, don't let us have any more of this dampness! Matthew!
Martha! If you go on like this, I--I--shall cry too. [Bursts into
tears] Heavens!

ZINAIDA. If you don't need your mother any more, if you are
determined not to obey her, I shall have to do as you want, and
you have my blessing.

Enter IVANOFF, dressed in a long coat, with gloves on.

LEBEDIEFF This is the finishing touch! What do you want?

SHABELSKI. Why are you here?

IVANOFF. I beg your pardon, you must allow me to speak to Sasha
alone.

LEBEDIEFF. The bridegroom must not come to see the bride before
the wedding. It is time for you to go to the church.

IVANOFF. Paul, I implore you.

LEBEDIEFF shrugs his shoulders. LEBEDIEFF, ZINAIDA, SHABELSKI,
and MARTHA go out.

SASHA. [Sternly] What do you want?

IVANOFF. I am choking with anger; I cannot speak calmly. Listen
to me; as I was dressing just now for the wedding, I looked in
the glass and saw how grey my temples were. Sasha, this must not
be! Let us end this senseless comedy before it is too late. You
are young and pure; you have all your life before you, but I---

SASHA. The same old story; I have heard it a thousand times and I
am tired of it. Go quickly to the church and don't keep everybody
waiting!

IVANOFF. I shall go straight home, and you must explain to your
family somehow that there is to be no wedding. Explain it as you
please. It is time we came to our senses. I have been playing the
part of Hamlet and you have been playing the part of a noble and
devoted girl. We have kept up the farce long enough.

SASHA. [Losing her temper] How can you speak to me like this? I
won't have it.

IVANOFF. But I am speaking, and will continue to speak.

SASHA. What do you mean by coming to me like this? Your
melancholy has become absolutely ridiculous!

IVANOFF. No, this is not melancholy. It is ridiculous, is it?
Yes, I am laughing, and if it were possible for me to laugh at
myself a thousand times more bitterly I should do so and set the
whole world laughing, too, in derision. A fierce light has
suddenly broken over my soul; as I looked into the glass just
now, I laughed at myself, and nearly went mad with shame. [He
laughs] Melancholy indeed! Noble grief! Uncontrollable sorrow! It
only remains for me now to begin to write verses! Shall I mope
and complain, sadden everybody I meet, confess that my manhood
has gone forever, that I have decayed, outlived my purpose, that
I have given myself up to cowardice and am bound hand and foot by
this loathsome melancholy? Shall I confess all this when the sun
is shining so brightly and when even the ants are carrying their
little burdens in peaceful self-content? No, thanks. Can I endure
the knowledge that one will look upon me as a fraud, while
another pities me, a third lends me a helping hand, or worst of
all, a fourth listens reverently to my sighs, looks upon me as a
new Mahomet, and expects me to expound a new religion every
moment? No, thank God for the pride and conscience he has left me
still. On my way here I laughed at myself, and it seemed to me
that the flowers and birds were laughing mockingly too.

SASHA. This is not anger, but madness!

IVANOFF. You think so, do you? No, I am not mad. I see things in
their right light now, and my mind is as clear as your
conscience. We love each other, but we shall never be married. It
makes no difference how I rave and grow bitter by myself, but I
have no right to drag another down with me. My melancholy robbed
my wife of the last year of her life. Since you have been engaged
to me you have forgotten how to laugh and have aged five years.
Your father, to whom life was always simple and clear, thanks to
me, is now unable to understand anybody. Wherever I go, whether
hunting or visiting, it makes no difference, I carry depression,
dulness, and discontent along with me. Wait! Don't interrupt me!
I am bitter and harsh, I know, but I am stifled with rage. I
cannot speak otherwise. I have never lied, and I never used to
find fault with my lot, but since I have begun to complain of
everything, I find fault with it involuntarily, and against my
will. When I murmur at my fate every one who hears me is seized
with the same disgust of life and begins to grumble too. And what
a strange way I have of looking at things! Exactly as if I were
doing the world a favour by living in it. Oh, I am contemptible.

SASHA. Wait a moment. From what you have just said, it is obvious
that you are tired of your melancholy mood, and that the time has
come for you to begin life afresh. How splendid!

IVANOFF. I don't see anything splendid about it. How can I lead a
new life? I am lost forever. It is time we both understood that.
A new life indeed!

SASHA. Nicholas, come to your senses. How can you say you are
lost? What do you mean by such cynicism? No, I won't listen to
you or talk with you. Go to the church!

IVANOFF. I am lost!

SASHA. Don't talk so loud; our guests will hear you!

IVANOFF. If an intelligent, educated, and healthy man begins to
complain of his lot and go down-hill, there is nothing for him to
do but to go on down until he reaches the bottom--there is no
hope for him. Where could my salvation come from? How can I save
myself? I cannot drink, because it makes my head ache. I never
could write bad poetry. I cannot pray for strength and see
anything lofty in the languor of my soul. Laziness is laziness
and weakness weakness. I can find no other names for them. I am
lost, I am lost; there is no doubt of that. [Looking around] Some
one might come in; listen, Sasha, if you love me you must help
me. Renounce me this minute; quickly!

SASHA. Oh, Nicholas! If you only knew how you are torturing me;
what agony I have to endure for your sake! Good thoughtful
friend, judge for yourself; can I possibly solve such a problem?
Each day you put some horrible problem before me, each one more
difficult than the last. I wanted to help you with my love, but
this is martyrdom!

IVANOFF. And when you are my wife the problems will be harder
than ever. Understand this: it is not love that is urging you to
take this step, but the obstinacy of an honest nature. You have
undertaken to reawaken the man in me and to save me in the face
of every difficulty, and you are flattered by the hope of
achieving your object. You are willing to give up now, but you
are prevented from doing it by a feeling that is a false one.
Understand yourself!

SASHA. What strange, wild reasoning! How can I give you up now?
How can I? You have no mother, or sister, or friends. You are
ruined; your estate has been destroyed; every one is speaking ill
of you--

IVANOFF. It was foolish of me to come here; I should have done as
I wanted to--

Enter LEBEDIEFF.

SASHA. [Running to her father] Father! He has rushed over here
like a madman, and is torturing me! He insists that I should
refuse to marry him; he says he doesn't want to drag me down with
him. Tell him that I won't accept his generosity. I know what I
am doing!

LEBEDIEFF. I can't understand a word of what you are saying. What
generosity?

IVANOFF. This marriage is not going to take place.

SASHA. It is going to take place. Papa, tell him that it is going
to take place.

LEBEDIEFF. Wait! Wait! What objection have you to the marriage?

IVANOFF. I have explained it all to her, but she refuses to
understand me.

LEBEDIEFF. Don't explain it to her, but to me, and explain it so
that I may understand. God forgive you, Nicholas, you have
brought a great deal of darkness into our lives. I feel as if I
were living in a museum; I look about me and don't understand
anything I see. This is torture. What on earth can an old man
like me do with you? Shall I challenge you to a duel?

IVANOFF. There is no need of a duel. All you need is a head on
your shoulders and a knowledge of the Russian language.

SASHA. [Walks up and down in great excitement] This is dreadful,
dreadful! Absolutely childish.

LEBEDIEFF. Listen to me, Nicholas; from your point of view what
you are doing is quite right and proper, according to the rules
of psychology, but I think this affair is a scandal and a great
misfortune. I am an old man; hear me out for the last time. This
is what I want to say to you: calm yourself; look at things
simply, as every one else does; this is a simple world. The
ceiling is white; your boots are black; sugar is sweet. You love
Sasha and she loves you. If you love her, stay with her; if you
don't, leave her. We shan't blame you. It is all perfectly
simple. You are two healthy, intelligent, moral young people;
thank God, you both have food and clothing--what more do you
want? What if you have no money? That is no great
misfortune--happiness is not bought with wealth. Of course your
estate is mortgaged, Nicholas, as I know, and you have no money
to pay the interest on the debt, but I am Sasha's father. I
understand. Her mother can do as she likes--if she won't give any
money, why, confound her, then she needn't, that's all! Sasha has
just said that she does not want her part of it. As for your
principles, Schopenhauer and all that, it is all folly. I have
one hundred thousand roubles in the bank. [Looking around him]
Not a soul in the house knows it; it was my grandmother's money.
That shall be for you both. Take it, give Matthew two thousand--

[The guests begin to collect in the ball-room].

IVANOFF. It is no use discussing it any more, I must act as my
conscience bids me.

SASHA. And I shall act as my conscience bids me--you may say what
you please; I refuse to let you go! I am going to call my mother.

LEBEDIEFF. I am utterly puzzled.

IVANOFF. Listen to me, poor old friend. I shall not try to
explain myself to you. I shall not tell you whether I am honest
or a rascal, healthy or mad; you wouldn't understand me. I was
young once; I have been eager and sincere and intelligent. I have
loved and hated and believed as no one else has. I have worked
and hoped and tilted against windmills with the strength of
ten--not sparing my strength, not knowing what life was. I
shouldered a load that broke my back. I drank, I worked, I
excited myself, my energy knew no bounds. Tell me, could I have
done otherwise? There are so few of us and so much to do, so much
to do! And see how cruelly fate has revenged herself on me, who
fought with her so bravely! I am a broken man. I am old at
thirty. I have submitted myself to old age. With a heavy head and
a sluggish mind, weary, used up, discouraged, without faith or
love or an object in life, I wander like a shadow among other
men, not knowing why I am alive or what it is that I want. Love
seems to me to be folly, caresses false. I see no sense in
working or playing, and all passionate speeches seem insipid and
tiresome. So I carry my sadness with me wherever I go; a cold
weariness, a discontent, a horror of life. Yes, I am lost for
ever and ever. Before you stands a man who at thirty-five is
disillusioned, wearied by fruitless efforts, burning with shame,
and mocking at his own weakness. Oh, how my pride rebels against
it all! What mad fury chokes me! [He staggers] I am
staggering--my strength is failing me. Where is Matthew? Let him
take me home.

[Voices from the ball-room] The best man has arrived!

Enter SHABELSKI.

SHABELSKI. In an old worn-out coat--without gloves! How many
scornful glances I get for it! Such silly jokes and vulgar grins!
Disgusting people.

Enter BORKIN quickly. He is carrying a bunch of flowers and is in
a dress-coat. He wears a flower in his buttonhole.

BORKIN. This is dreadful! Where is he? [To IVANOFF] They have
been waiting for you for a long time in the church, and here you
are talking philosophy! What a funny chap you are. Don't you know
you must not go to church with the bride, but alone, with me? I
shall then come back for her. Is it possible you have not
understood that? You certainly are an extraordinary man!

Enter LVOFF.

LVOFF. [To IVANOFF] Ah! So you are here? [Loudly] Nicholas
Ivanoff, I denounce you to the world as a scoundrel!

IVANOFF. [Coldly] Many thanks!

BORKIN. [To LVOFF] Sir, this is dastardly! I challenge you to a
duel!

LVOFF. Monsieur Borkin, I count it a disgrace not only to fight
with you, but even to talk to you! Monsieur Ivanoff, however, can
receive satisfaction from me whenever he chooses!

SHABELSKI. Sir, I shall fight you!

SASHA. [To LVOFF] Why, oh why, have you insulted him? Gentlemen,
I beg you, let him tell me why he has insulted him.

LVOFF. Miss Sasha, I have not insulted him without cause. I came
here as a man of honour, to open your eyes, and I beg you to
listen to what I have to tell you.

SASHA. What can you possibly have to tell me? That you are a man
of honour? The whole world knows it. You had better tell me on
your honour whether you understand what you have done or not. You
have come in here as a man of honour and have insulted him so
terribly that you have nearly killed me. When you used to follow
him like a shadow and almost keep him from living, you were
convinced that you were doing your duty and that you were acting
like a man of honour. When you interfered in his private affairs,
maligned him and criticised him; when you sent me and whomever
else you could, anonymous letters, you imagined yourself to be an
honourable man! And, thinking that that too was honourable, you,
a doctor, did not even spare his dying wife or give her a
moment's peace from your suspicions. And no matter what violence,
what cruel wrong you committed, you still imagined yourself to be
an unusually honourable and clear-sighted man.

IVANOFF. [Laughing] This is not a wedding, but a parliament!
Bravo! Bravo!

SASHA. [To LVOFF] Now, think it over! Do you see what sort of a
man  you are, or not? Oh,
 the stupid, heartless people! [Takes IVANOFF by the hand] Come
away from here Nicholas! Come, father, let us go!

IVANOFF. Where shall we go? Wait a moment. I shall soon put an
end to the whole thing. My youth is awake in me again; the former
Ivanoff is here once more.

[He takes out a revolver.]

SASHA. [Shrieking] I know what he wants to do! Nicholas, for
God's sake!

IVANOFF. I have been slipping down-hill long enough. Now, halt!
It is time to know what honour is. Out of the way! Thank you,
Sasha!

SASHA. [Shrieking] Nicholas! For God's sake hold him!

IVANOFF. Let go! [He rushes aside, and shoots himself.]

The curtain falls.