A garden. The next day. To right and left, benches under the trees; straight ahead, raspberry bushes. Katya and Matvei enter from the right. Katya is carrying a basket.
MATVEI
So what about it, Katerina Vassilievna? Please tell me, finally, I beg you.
KATYA
Matvei Yegorych, really, I . . .
MATVEI
You know very well how I feel about you, Katerina Vassilievna. Of course, I’m older than you; no arguing about that; but I can still hold my own, there’s plenty of juice in me. And you know I’m the quiet sort. What more do you want?
Matvei Yegorych, believe me, I appreciate . . . I’m very grateful to you . . . But . . . I think we should wait.
MATVEI
For God’s sake, Katerina Vassilievna, what’s there to wait for? Let me remind you, that’s not what you said before. As for treating you well, I mean, I think I can guarantee that. You’ll be treated so well, Katerina Vassilievna, nobody could ask for more. Besides, I’m not a drinker, and I’ve never had a bad word from my masters.
KATYA
Really, Matvei Yegorych, I don’t know what to say . . .
MATVEI
Eh, Katerina Vassilievna, it’s only lately you’ve started . . .
KATYA
(Blushing slightly) Lately? Why lately?
MATVEI
That I don’t know . . . only before . . . you acted differently with me before.
KATYA
(Looking off, hastily) Watch it . . . The German’s coming.
MATVEI
(Annoyed) Ah, that long-nosed goose! . . . And I’ve got more to say to you, miss.
Exits right. Katya is about to go into the raspberry bushes. Schaaf enters left with a fishing pole on his shoulder.
SCHAAF
(Following Katya) Vere to? Vere to, Katerin?
(Stops) I’ve been told to pick raspberries, Adam Ivanych.
SCHAAF
Rassperry? . . . rassperry, das ist agreeaple frukt. You like rassperry?
KATYA
Yes, I do.
SCHAAF
Heh, heh! . . . Und me . . . me, too. I like effryting you like. (Seeing that she wants to leave) Oh, Katerin, vait a minute.
KATYA
I haven’t got time, sir . . . The housekeeper will yell at me.
SCHAAF
Ehh, nefer mind! See, I’m goink, too . . . (Points to fishing pole) How do dey say it, fischink, you untershtand, fischink, das ist fish catchen. You like fisch?
KATYA
Yes, sir.
SCHAAF
Eh, heh, heh, und me, too, me, too. And you know vat I’m telling you, Katerin . . . In Cherman dere’s a song: “Cathrinchen, Cathrinchen, wie lieb ich dich so sehr!” . . . das ist in Russian: “O, Katrinushka, Katrinushka, goot girl, I luff you zo!”
He tries to put his arm around her.
KATYA
Stop it, stop it, shame on you . . . They’re coming. (She escapes into the raspberry bushes)
SCHAAF
(Assuming a stern look, in a low voice) Das ist dumm . . .
Natalya Petrovna enters right, arm in arm with Rakitin.
NATALYA
(To Schaaf) Ah! Adam Ivanych! Going fishing?
SCHAAF
Chust zo, ma’am.
NATALYA
And where is Kolya?
SCHAAF
Mit Lisafet Bogdanovna . . . piano lesson . . .
NATALYA
Ah! (Looking around) You’re alone?
SCHAAF
Yes, ma’am.
NATALYA
You haven’t seen Alexei Nikolaich?
SCHAAF
No, I haffn’t.
NATALYA
(After a pause) We’ll go with you, Adam Ivanych—do you mind?—to watch you catch fish?
SCHAAF
Fery klad.
RAKITIN
(In a low voice to Natalya) What’s got into you?
NATALYA
Let’s go, let’s go, beau ténébreux . . . 12
KATYA
(Warily poking her head out of the raspberry bushes) Gone . . . (Comes out, stops briefly and ponders) Ah, that German! . . . (Sighs and starts picking raspberries again, singing in a low voice:)
It’s not fire burning, not pitch boiling,
It’s my heart that boils and burns . . .
And Matvei Yegorych is right! (Goes on singing:)
It’s my heart that boils and burns,
Not for papa, not for mama . . .
Such big raspberries! (Goes on singing:)
Not for papa, not for mama . . .
What heat! Stifling! (Goes on singing:)
Not for papa, not for mama . . .
But for a . . .
She suddenly looks around, falls silent, and half hides behind a bush. Belyaev and Verochka enter left. Belyaev is carrying a kite.
BELYAEV
(Passing by the raspberry bushes, to Katya) Why did you stop, Katya? (Sings:)
But for a pretty maid it yearns . . .
KATYA
(Blushing) That’s not how we sing it.
BELYAEV
How, then?
Katya laughs and does not answer.
So you’re picking raspberries? Give me one.
KATYA
(Handing him the basket) Take all of them . . .
BELYAEV
Why all? . . . Want some, Vera Alexandrovna? (Vera takes some from the basket, and so does he) Well, that’s enough now. (He wants to give the basket back to Katya)
KATYA
(Pushing his hand away) Take all of them, go on.
BELYAEV
No, thank you, Katya. (He gives back the basket) Thank you. (To Vera) Let’s sit on the bench, Vera Alexandrovna. I have to tie the tail on. (Pointing to the kite) You’re going to help me.
They both go and sit on a bench. Belyaev gives her the kite to hold.
That’s right. Keep it straight. (He starts tying on the tail) What’s the matter?
VERA
That way I can’t see you.
BELYAEV
What do you want to see me for?
VERA
I mean, I want to see how you tie the tail on.
BELYAEV
Well, wait a minute. (He places the kite so that Vera can see him) Katya, why aren’t you singing? Sing.
After a little, Katya starts singing in a low voice.
VERA
Tell me, Alexei Nikolaich, do you sometimes fly kites in Moscow, too?
BELYAEV
There’s no time for kites in Moscow! Hold the string . . . like that. Do you think we’ve got nothing else to do in Moscow?
VERA
What do you do in Moscow?
BELYAEV
What do you mean, what? We study, we listen to the professors.
VERA
What do they teach you?
BELYAEV
Everything.
VERA
You must be a very good student. The best of all.
BELYAEV
No, I’m not very good. Hardly the best! I’m lazy.
VERA
How come you’re lazy?
BELYAEV
God knows! I guess I was born that way!
VERA
(After a pause) So, have you got friends in Moscow?
Sure. Nah, this string’s not strong enough.
VERA
And you like them?
BELYAEV
What else! . . . Don’t you like your friends?
VERA
Friends . . . I have no friends.
BELYAEV
I mean, your girlfriends.
VERA
(Slowly) Yes.
BELYAEV
So you do have girlfriends? . . .
VERA
Yes . . . only, I don’t know why . . . I haven’t thought much about them for a while now . . . I haven’t even written back to Liza Moshnina, and she begged me to in her letter.
BELYAEV
And how can you say you have no men friends . . . what about me?
VERA
(With a smile) Well, you . . . That’s different. (After a pause) Alexei Nikolaich!
BELYAEV
What?
VERA
Do you write poetry?
No. Why?
VERA
Just asking. (After a pause) A girl in our boarding school wrote poems.
BELYAEV
(Tightening a knot with his teeth) Really! Good ones?
VERA
I don’t know. She’d read them to us and we’d cry.
BELYAEV
Why did you cry?
VERA
From pity. We pitied her so much!
BELYAEV
The school was in Moscow?
VERA
Yes. With Madame Bolus. Natalya Petrovna took me from there last year.
BELYAEV
Do you love Natalya Petrovna?
VERA
Yes. She’s so kind. I love her very much.
BELYAEV
(With a little smile) And I’ll bet you’re also afraid of her?
VERA
(Also with a little smile) A little.
(After a pause) Who sent you to that school?
VERA
Natalya Petrovna’s late mother. I grew up in her home. I’m an orphan.
BELYAEV
(Dropping his hands) An orphan? And you don’t remember either your father or your mother?
VERA
No.
BELYAEV
My mother died, too. We’re both orphans. What can you do? But anyhow we shouldn’t be sad.
VERA
They say orphans are drawn to each other.
BELYAEV
(Looking into her eyes) Really? And what do you think?
VERA
(Also looking into his eyes, smiling) I think they are.
BELYAEV
(Laughs and goes back to his kite) I’m trying to think how long I’ve been here.
VERA
Today’s the twenty-eighth day.
BELYAEV
What a memory! Well, the kite’s done. Look at that tail! We should go and get Kolya.
(Coming up to them with the basket) Would you like some more raspberries?
BELYAEV
No, thank you, Katya.
Katya silently steps away.
VERA
Kolya’s with Lizaveta Bogdanovna.
BELYAEV
Who would keep a child indoors in such weather!
VERA
Lizaveta Bogdanovna would only be in our way . . .
BELYAEV
I’m not talking about her . . .
VERA
(Hastily) Without her, Kolya couldn’t come with us . . . By the way, she praised you a lot yesterday.
BELYAEV
Really?
VERA
Don’t you like her?
BELYAEV
Her! She can sniff her snuff and good luck to her! . . . Why are you sighing?
VERA
(After a pause) I just am. How clear the sky is!
So that’s what you’re sighing about? (Silence) Maybe you’re bored?
VERA
Me, bored? No! Sometimes I don’t know why I sigh . . . I’m not bored at all. On the contrary . . . (After a pause) I don’t know . . . I must be a little unwell. Yesterday I went upstairs to get a book—and all of a sudden, on the stairs, imagine, I just sat down on a step and burst into tears . . . God knows why. And for the longest time the tears kept welling up . . . What does it mean? And yet I feel fine . . .
BELYAEV
That’s from growing up. You’re growing up. It happens. That’s why your eyes seemed swollen yesterday.
VERA
You noticed?
BELYAEV
Sure!
VERA
You notice everything.
BELYAEV
Well, no . . . not everything.
VERA
(Pensively) Alexei Nikolaich . . .
BELYAEV
What?
VERA
(After a pause) What was it I wanted to ask you? Really, I’ve forgotten what I wanted to ask.
Are you so absentminded?
VERA
No . . . but . . . ah, yes! Here’s what I wanted to ask. Didn’t you tell me you have a sister?
BELYAEV
Yes.
VERA
Do I look like her?
BELYAEV
Oh, no. You’re much prettier.
VERA
How can that be! Your sister . . . I wish I were in her place.
BELYAEV
What? You wish you were in our poor little house now?
VERA
That’s not what I meant . . . Is your house really so small?
BELYAEV
Very small . . . Nothing like here.
VERA
But what’s the use of so many rooms?
BELYAEV
What’s the use? One day you’ll find out what the rooms are for.
VERA
One day . . . When?
When you become mistress of your own house.
VERA
(Pensively) You think so?
BELYAEV
You’ll see. (After a pause) So, then, Vera Alexandrovna, shall I go and get Kolya?
VERA
Why don’t you call me Verochka?
BELYAEV
And could you call me Alexei? . . .
VERA
Why couldn’t I . . . (She suddenly gives a start) Ah!
BELYAEV
What is it?
VERA
(In a low voice) Natalya Petrovna’s coming.
BELYAEV
(Also in a low voice) Where?
VERA
(Nodding in that direction) There—on the path, with Mikhail Alexandrych.
BELYAEV
(Getting up) Let’s see about Kolya . . . He must be done with his lesson.
VERA
Yes, let’s . . . I’m afraid she’ll scold me . . .
They get up and quickly exit left. Katya hides in the raspberry bushes again. Natalya Petrovna and Rakitin enter right.
NATALYA
(Stopping) Wasn’t that Mr. Belyaev going off with Verochka?
RAKITIN
Yes, it was . . .
NATALYA
They seem to be running away from us.
RAKITIN
Maybe so.
NATALYA
(After a pause) Anyway I don’t think Verochka should . . . like that, alone with a young man, in the garden . . . Of course, she’s a child; but even so it’s improper . . . I’ll tell her.
RAKITIN
How old is she?
NATALYA
Seventeen! She’s already seventeen . . . It’s hot today. I’m tired. Let’s sit down.
They sit on the bench that Vera and Belyaev were sitting on.
Has Shpigelsky gone?
RAKITIN
Yes.
NATALYA
Too bad you didn’t keep him here. I don’t know why the man ever thought of becoming a country doctor . . . He’s very amusing. He makes me laugh.
And I was thinking you weren’t in the mood to laugh today.
NATALYA
Why did you think that?
RAKITIN
I just did!
NATALYA
Because I don’t like talking about feelings today? True! I warn you, absolutely nothing can touch me today. But that doesn’t keep me from laughing. On the contrary. Besides, I had to talk with Shpigelsky.
RAKITIN
May I ask about what?
NATALYA
No, you may not. As it is, you know everything I think, everything I do . . . It’s boring.
RAKITIN
I beg your pardon . . . I didn’t mean . . .
NATALYA
I feel like concealing at least something from you.
RAKITIN
Good God! You make it sound as if I know everything . . .
NATALYA
(Interrupting him) Don’t you?
RAKITIN
You’re just laughing at me.
So you insist that you don’t know everything that goes on inside me? In that case, “congratulations.” A man watches me from morning till night . . .
RAKITIN
What’s that, a reproach?
NATALYA
A reproach? (After a pause) No, I see now: you’re not very perceptive.
RAKITIN
Perhaps not . . . But since I do watch you from morning till night, may I make one small observation . . . ?
NATALYA
About me? Please do.
RAKITIN
You won’t be angry with me?
NATALYA
Oh, no! I’d like to be, but no.
RAKITIN
Lately, Natalya Petrovna, you’ve been troubled all the time, troubled by something you can’t help, something inside you. It’s as if you’re struggling with yourself, as if you’re bewildered. I hadn’t noticed it before I went to the Krinitsyns’. It’s a recent thing.
Natalya Petrovna traces lines in front of her with her parasol.
You sometimes sigh so deeply . . . the way someone tired sighs, someone very tired, who can’t get any rest.
NATALYA
And what do you conclude from that, mister observer?
Nothing . . . But it worries me.
NATALYA
I humbly thank you for your concern.
RAKITIN
And besides . . .
NATALYA
(With some impatience) Please let’s change the subject.
Silence.
RAKITIN
Do you plan to go anywhere today?
NATALYA
No.
RAKITIN
Why not? The weather’s nice.
NATALYA
Lazy.
Silence.
Tell me . . . do you know Bolshintsov?
RAKITIN
Our neighbor, Afanasy Ivanych?
NATALYA
Yes.
What a question! No more than two days ago, he and I were playing cards in your house.
NATALYA
What sort of man is he—that’s what I want to know.
RAKITIN
Bolshintsov?
NATALYA
Yes, yes, Bolshintsov.
RAKITIN
Well, I must say, that’s the last thing I expected!
NATALYA
(Impatiently) What didn’t you expect?
RAKITIN
That you’d ever start asking about Bolshintsov! A stupid, fat, tiresome man—though I can’t say anything really bad about him.
NATALYA
He’s not as stupid and tiresome as you think.
RAKITIN
Perhaps not. I admit I haven’t studied the gentleman that closely.
NATALYA
(Ironically) You haven’t observed him?
RAKITIN
(With a forced smile) And what makes you ask . . .
NATALYA
I just . . .
RAKITIN
Look, Natalya Petrovna, how beautiful that deep green oak is against the deep blue sky. It’s all drowned in the rays of the sun, and what mighty colors . . . There’s so much indestructible life and strength in it, especially compared with that young birch . . . It seems about to dissolve in radiance; its little leaves shine with some liquid glitter, as if they’re melting, and yet it, too, is beautiful . . .
NATALYA
You know what, Rakitin? I noticed it long ago . . . You have a very fine feeling for the so-called beauties of nature, and you speak of them very elegantly, very intelligently . . . so elegantly, so intelligently, that I imagine nature must be unspeakably grateful to you for your refined and fortunate phrases. You chase after her like a perfume-drenched marquis on little red heels after a pretty peasant girl . . . Only here’s the trouble: it sometimes seems to me that she couldn’t possibly understand or appreciate your fine observations, any more than a peasant girl could understand the courtly courtesy of a marquis. Nature is much simpler, even cruder, than you suppose, because, thank God, she’s healthy . . . Birches don’t melt and swoon like nervous ladies.
RAKITIN
Quelle tirade!13 Nature is healthy . . . that is, in other words, I am a sickly creature.
NATALYA
You’re not the only sickly creature. We’re both none too healthy.
RAKITIN
Oh, I know that way of making the most unpleasant things sound inoffensive . . . For instance, instead of telling him to his face: “You, brother, are stupid,” you need only say with a good-natured smile: “We’re both of us stupid, you and I.”
So you’re offended? What nonsense! I only wanted to say that you and I are both . . . you don’t like the word “sickly” . . . that we’re both old, very old.
RAKITIN
Why old? I don’t think of myself as old.
NATALYA
Well, anyway, listen: you and I are sitting here now . . . and maybe a quarter of an hour ago, on this same bench, sat . . . two really young creatures.
RAKITIN
Belyaev and Verochka? Of course, they’re younger than us . . . there’s a few years’ difference between us, that’s all . . . That doesn’t make us old.
NATALYA
The difference between us isn’t only in years.
RAKITIN
Ah! I understand . . . You envy their . . . naïveté, their freshness, innocence . . . in short, their stupidity . . .
NATALYA
You think so? Ah, so you think they’re stupid? I see, for you everybody’s stupid today. No, you don’t understand me. And besides . . . stupid! There’s nothing wrong with that! What’s so good about intelligence, if it’s not amusing? . . . There’s nothing more tiresome than humorless intelligence.
RAKITIN
Hm. Why don’t you just say it without beating around the bush? I don’t amuse you—that’s what you want to say . . . Why blame intelligence in general for my sins?
You’ve got it all wrong . . .
Katya emerges from the raspberry bushes.
So you’re picking raspberries, Katya?
KATYA
That’s right, ma’am.
NATALYA
Show me . . .
Katya goes up to her.
Nice raspberries! So red . . . and your cheeks are redder still.
Katya smiles and looks down.
Well, you can go.
Katya exits.
RAKITIN
There’s another young creature to your taste.
NATALYA
Right. (Stands up)
RAKITIN
Where are you going?
NATALYA
In the first place, I want to see what Verochka is up to . . . It’s time she went in . . . and in the second place, I must say, I’m not too pleased with our conversation. Let’s drop our discussion of nature and youth for a while.
Maybe you’d prefer to walk alone?
NATALYA
To tell you the truth, I would. We’ll see each other soon . . . Anyway, we part friends?
She offers him her hand.
RAKITIN
(Standing up) What else!
He presses her hand.
NATALYA
Good-bye.
She opens her parasol and exits left.
RAKITIN
(Pacing back and forth for a while) What’s the matter with her? (After a pause) Just a whim! A whim? I’ve never noticed it in her before. On the contrary, I don’t know a more levelheaded woman. What’s the reason for it? . . . (He paces again and suddenly stops) Ah, how ridiculous they are, people with only one thought in their head, one purpose, one occupation in life . . . Like me, for instance. What she said is true: you observe little trifles from morning till night, and turn into a trifle yourself . . . It’s all true. But I can’t live without her. When I’m with her, I’m more than happy—“happy” doesn’t begin to describe it. I belong to her completely. For me to part with her would be tantamount to parting with life. It’s no exaggeration. What’s the matter with her? This anguish, this involuntary sarcasm—what do they mean? Is she beginning to be tired of me? Hm. (Sits down) I’ve never deceived myself. I know very well how she loves me. But I hoped that in time this comfortable feeling . . . I hoped! Do I have the right, do I dare hope? I admit my position is quite ridiculous . . . almost contemptible. (Pause) Well, why such words? She’s an honest woman, and I’m no seducer. (With a bitter smile) Unfortunately. (Quickly standing up) Well, enough! Get all this nonsense out of your head! (Pacing slowly) What a beautiful day today! (Pause) How skillfully she skewered me . . . My “refined and fortunate phrases” . . . She’s very intelligent, especially when she’s out of sorts. And what’s this sudden worship of simplicity and innocence? . . . This Russian tutor . . . She talks about him a lot. I must say I see nothing special in him. Just a student, like all students. Can it be that she . . . Impossible! She’s out of sorts . . . she doesn’t know what she wants herself, so she kicks me. Children do hit their nannies . . . What a flattering comparison! But there’s no need for me to get into it. When this fit of anguish passes, she’ll be the first to laugh at this lanky fledgling, this fresh youth . . . Your explanation’s not bad, Mikhail Alexandrych, my friend, but is it right? God only knows! We’ll see. This wouldn’t be the first time, my dear fellow, that after a lot of fussing with yourself, you suddenly stop trying to figure things out, fold your arms, and humbly wait for whatever comes. And meanwhile, admit that you yourself feel rather awkward and bitter . . . That’s become your trade . . . (He looks around) Ah! here he is himself, our artless youth . . . Just in time . . . I’ve yet to have a proper talk with him. Let’s see what kind of man he is.
Belyaev enters left.
Alexei Nikolaich! So you, too, are out for some fresh air?
BELYAEV
Yes, sir.
RAKITIN
To tell the truth, the air’s not all that fresh today. It’s terribly hot, but here, under these lindens, in the shade, it’s tolerable enough. (Pause) Have you seen Natalya Petrovna?
I met her just now . . . She and Vera Alexandrovna have gone in.
RAKITIN
Wasn’t it you and Vera Alexandrovna I saw here about half an hour ago?
BELYAEV
Yes, sir . . . We were taking a stroll.
RAKITIN
Ah! (Takes him under the arm) Well, how do you like life in the country?
BELYAEV
I like the country. There’s only one trouble: the hunting’s no good here.
RAKITIN
So you’re a hunter?
BELYAEV
Yes, sir . . . And you?
RAKITIN
Me? No. To be honest, I’m a poor shot. I’m too lazy.
BELYAEV
I’m lazy, too . . . except about taking walks.
RAKITIN
Ah! And what about reading?
BELYAEV
No, I like reading. I get tired of studying for a long time, especially the same subject.
(Smiling) Well, and talking with the ladies, for instance?
BELYAEV
Eh! You’re laughing at me . . . It’s more like I’m afraid of the ladies.
RAKITIN
(Slightly embarrassed) What makes you think . . . why on earth should I laugh at you?
BELYAEV
I just . . . never mind! (Pause) Tell me, where can I get gunpowder around here?
RAKITIN
In town, I think. It’s sold there under the name of poppy seed. Do you need good stuff?
BELYAEV
No, any kind. It’s not for shooting, it’s for fireworks.
RAKITIN
So you know how to . . .
BELYAEV
Yes. I’ve already picked a spot—across the pond. I’ve heard it’s Natalya Petrovna’s birthday in a week, so it will work out nicely.
RAKITIN
Natalya Petrovna will be very pleased by such attention from you . . . She likes you, Alexei Nikolaich, let me tell you.
BELYAEV
That’s very flattering . . . Ah, by the way, Mikhail Alexandrych, it seems you get a magazine. Could you let me read it?
RAKITIN
If you like, I’ll be glad to . . . There’s some good poetry in it.
I’m not a poetry lover.
RAKITIN
Why is that?
BELYAEV
I’m just not. Humorous verse seems forced to me, and besides there’s not much of it; and sentimental verse . . . I don’t know . . . I somehow don’t believe it.
RAKITIN
You prefer stories?
BELYAEV
Yes, sir, I like good stories . . . but critical articles—that’s what really gets to me.
RAKITIN
Why?
BELYAEV
They’re written from the heart . . .
RAKITIN
And you yourself—do you write?
BELYAEV
Oh, no, sir! It’s no good writing if God hasn’t given you talent. People will just laugh. And besides, here’s a surprising thing, please explain this to me: sometimes a man even seems intelligent, but the moment he gets a pen in his hand—all hell breaks loose. No, we’ve got no business writing—it’s good enough if we understand what’s written!
RAKITIN
You know what, Alexei Nikolaich? Not many young men have as much common sense as you have.
Thank you for the compliment. (Pause) I picked the place across the pond for the fireworks, because I know how to make Roman candles that burn on water . . .
RAKITIN
That must be very beautiful . . . Excuse me, Alexei Nikolaich, but may I ask . . . do you know French?
BELYAEV
No. I translated Paul de Kock’s The Milkmaid of Montfermeil—maybe you’ve heard of it—for fifty roubles, but I don’t know a word of French.14 Imagine: I translated quatre-vingt-dix as “four-twenty-ten” . . . I needed the money. Too bad. I’d like to know French. It’s this damned laziness of mine. I wish I could read George Sand in French. Then there’s pronouncing it . . . how am I supposed to deal with that? Ahn, ohn, ehn, iohn . . . Disaster!
RAKITIN
Well, that can be helped . . .
BELYAEV
May I ask what time it is?
RAKITIN
(Looks at watch) Half-past one.
BELYAEV
Why is Lizaveta Bogdanovna making Kolya practice so long . . . He must be dying to run around by now.
RAKITIN
(Gently) But it’s necessary to study, Alexei Nikolaich . . .
BELYAEV
(With a sigh) You don’t need to tell me that, Mikhail Alexandrych—it’s not the first time I hear it . . . Of course, not everybody is a loafer like me.
Well, come now . . .
BELYAEV
That I know . . .
RAKITIN
And I, on the contrary, know, and know for certain, that precisely what you consider your shortcoming—this ease of yours, this freedom—is precisely what people like about you.
BELYAEV
Who, for instance?
RAKITIN
Say, Natalya Petrovna.
BELYAEV
Natalya Petrovna? It’s with her that I don’t feel free, as you put it.
RAKITIN
Ah! Really?
BELYAEV
Yes, and finally, for God’s sake, Mikhail Alexandrych, isn’t upbringing the main thing in a man? It’s easy for you to say . . . I really don’t understand you . . . (He suddenly stops) What was that? A corncrake? (Wants to leave)
RAKITIN
Maybe . . . but where are you going?
BELYAEV
To get my gun . . .
He heads off left, runs into Natalya Petrovna.
(Seeing him, suddenly smiles) Where are you off to, Alexei Nikolaich?
BELYAEV
I’m . . .
RAKITIN
To get his gun . . . He heard a corncrake in the garden . . .
NATALYA
No, please, don’t go shooting in the garden . . . Let the poor bird live . . . Besides, you may frighten grandmother.
BELYAEV
Very well, ma’am.
NATALYA
(Laughing) Alexei Nikolaich, shame on you! “Very well, ma’am”—what is this phrase? How can you . . . talk like that? Wait. Mikhail Alexandrych and I are going to help with your education . . . Yes, yes . . . We’ve already talked about you more than once . . . There’s a conspiracy against you, I’m warning you. Will you let me help with your education?
BELYAEV
Good lord . . . I . . .
NATALYA
In the first place—don’t be shy, it doesn’t suit you at all. Yes, we’ll help you along. (Points to Rakitin) We’re old people—but you are a young man . . . Right? Look how nicely it all works out. You’ll busy yourself with Kolya—and I . . . and we . . . with you.
BELYAEV
I shall be very grateful to you.
Well, there. What were you and Mikhail Alexandrych just talking about?
RAKITIN
(Smiling) He told me how he translated a French book—without knowing a word of French.
NATALYA
Ah! Well, then we’re also going to teach you French. By the way, what have you done with your kite?
BELYAEV
I took it in. I thought you . . . disapproved . . .
NATALYA
(With some embarrassment) Why did you think that? Because I . . . because I sent Verochka in? No, that’s . . . No, you were mistaken. (With animation) Anyway, you know what? Kolya must have finished his lesson by now. Let’s go and get him, and Verochka, and the kite, and we’ll all go to the meadow together—want to?
BELYAEV
I’d be glad to, Natalya Petrovna.
NATALYA
Wonderful. Well, let’s go, let’s go. (Offers him her arm) Oh, do take my arm, what a clumsy one you are! Let’s go . . . come on.
They both quickly exit left.
RAKITIN
(Looking after them) So lively . . . so gay . . . I’ve never seen such a look on her face. And what a sudden change! (Pause) Souvent femme varie . . .15 But I . . . I’m definitely rubbing her the wrong way today. That’s obvious. (Pause) Well, let’s see what happens next. (Slowly) Can it be . . . (Waves his hand) Impossible! . . . But that smile, that soft, bright, welcoming gaze . . . Ah, God spare me the torments of jealousy, especially senseless jealousy! (Suddenly looking around) Well, well, well . . . what wind blows you here?
Shpigelsky and Bolshintsov enter from left. Rakitin goes to meet them.
Greetings, gentlemen . . . I must say, Shpigelsky, I wasn’t expecting you today . . .
Shakes their hands.
SHPIGELSKY
Neither was I . . . I never imagined . . . I went to his place (Pointing to Bolshintsov), and he was already sitting in his carriage to come here. So I did an about face and came back with him.
RAKITIN
Welcome, then.
BOLSHINTSOV
In fact, I was going to . . .
SHPIGELSKY
(Deliberately changing the subject) The servants told us everybody was in the garden . . . At least there was nobody in the drawing room . . .
RAKITIN
You didn’t run into Natalya Petrovna?
SHPIGELSKY
When?
RAKITIN
Just now.
No. We didn’t come straight from the house. Afanasy Ivanych wanted to see if there were mushrooms in the woods.
BOLSHINTSOV
(With perplexity) I . . .
SHPIGELSKY
Oh, yes, we know you’re a great mushroom lover. So Natalya Petrovna has gone to the house? What do you say? Shall we go back, too?
BOLSHINTSOV
All right.
RAKITIN
Yes, she went to the house to invite everybody for a walk . . . It seems they’re intending to fly a kite.
SHPIGELSKY
Wonderful. In such weather everybody should go for a walk.
RAKITIN
You can stay here . . . I’ll go and tell her you’ve come.
SHPIGELSKY
Don’t go to any trouble . . . Please, Mikhail Alexandrych . . .
RAKITIN
No . . . I have to anyway . . .
SHPIGELSKY
Ah! Well, in that case we won’t keep you . . . No formalities . . .
RAKITIN
Good-bye, gentlemen.
SHPIGELSKY
Good-bye. (To Bolshintsov) Well, Afanasy Ivanych . . .
BOLSHINTSOV
(Interrupting him) What’s all this about mushrooms, Ignaty Ilyich . . . I’m astonished—what mushrooms?
SHPIGELSKY
And maybe you think I should have said that my Afanasy Ivanych got cold feet, couldn’t face coming straight here, asked to go the long way around?
BOLSHINTSOV
All right . . . but still, mushrooms . . . I don’t know, maybe I’m making a mistake . . .
SHPIGELSKY
You probably are, my friend. You’d better think about this. See, we’ve come here . . . we’ve done it your way. Watch out! Don’t get egg on your face.
BOLSHINTSOV
Yes, Ignaty Ilyich, but you . . . I mean, you did tell me . . . I want to know definitely what answer . . .
SHPIGELSKY
My most esteemed Afanasy Ivanych! It’s some ten miles from your village to here; every mile you asked me the same question at least three times . . . Enough’s enough! Now listen: only I’m indulging you for the last time. Here’s what Natalya Petrovna said to me: “I . . .”
BOLSHINTSOV
(Nodding) Yes.
(Vexedly) “Yes” . . . “Yes” what? I haven’t said anything yet . . . “I know little of Mr. Bolshintsov,” she says, “but he seems to be a good man. On the other hand, I haven’t the slightest intention of forcing Verochka. So let him visit us, and if he earns . . .”
BOLSHINTSOV
“Earns”? She said “earns”?
SHPIGELSKY
“If he earns her sympathy, Anna Semyonovna and I will not stand in the way . . .”
BOLSHINTSOV
“Will not stand in the way”? She said that? “Will not stand in the way”?
SHPIGELSKY
Yes, yes, yes. What a strange man you are! “Will not stand in the way of their happiness.”
BOLSHINTSOV
Hm.
SHPIGELSKY
“Their happiness.” Yes. But see what your task is now, Afanasy Ivanych . . . You must now persuade Vera Alexandrovna herself that marriage to you is in fact happiness for her. You must earn her sympathy.
BOLSHINTSOV
(Blinking) Yes, yes, earn . . . exactly. I agree with you.
SHPIGELSKY
You insisted that I bring you here today . . . Well, let’s see how you’re going to act.
Act? Yes, yes, I must act, I must earn, exactly. Only the thing is, Ignaty Ilyich . . . You’re my best friend, let me confess to you a weakness of mine: as you say, I wanted you to bring me here today . . .
SHPIGELSKY
Not wanted, but insisted, demanded.
BOLSHINTSOV
Well, yes, let’s say . . . I agree with you. But you see: at home I . . . I really . . . at home it seemed I was ready for anything, but now I’m getting scared.
SHPIGELSKY
What are you scared of?
BOLSHINTSOV
(Glancing at him from under his eyebrows) It’s risky, sir.
SHPIGELSKY
Wha-a-at?
BOLSHINTSOV
Risky, sir. Very risky. I must confess to you, Ignaty Ilyich, as . . .
SHPIGELSKY
(Interrupting) As your best friend . . . I know, I know . . . Go on.
BOLSHINTSOV
Exactly so, sir, I agree with you. I must confess, Ignaty Ilyich, that I . . . I’ve had very little to do with ladies, with the female sex in general; I confess to you frankly, Ignaty Ilyich, I simply can’t think what can be talked about with an individual of the female sex—and alone at that—especially with a young girl.
You surprise me. I don’t know what can’t be talked about with an individual of the female sex, especially a young girl, and especially alone.
BOLSHINTSOV
Well, yes, you . . . But what am I compared to you? That’s why I’m counting on you, Ignaty Ilyich. They say in these matters the hardest thing is getting started, so, for starting the conversation, couldn’t you slip me some pleasant little phrase, like, for instance, some observation—and I’ll go on from there. The rest I’ll somehow manage by myself.
SHPIGELSKY
I won’t slip you any little phrases, Afanasy Ivanych, because no phrases will be any use to you . . . but I can give you a piece of advice, if you like.
BOLSHINTSOV
I’d very much appreciate it . . . And as for my gratitude . . . You know . . .
SHPIGELSKY
Enough, enough. What, am I bargaining with you?
BOLSHINTSOV
(Lowering his voice) About the little troika, you can rest assured.
SHPIGELSKY
Enough, I said! So you see, Afanasy Ivanych . . . You are without question a wonderful man in all respects . . . (Bolshintsov bows slightly) . . . a man of excellent qualities . . .
BOLSHINTSOV
Oh, please!
Besides, I believe you own three hundred souls?
BOLSHINTSOV
Three hundred and twenty, sir.
SHPIGELSKY
Not mortgaged?
BOLSHINTSOV
I’m not in debt for a single kopeck.
SHPIGELSKY
Well, there. I’ve already told you you’re an excellent man and a top-notch suitor. But then you say yourself you’ve had little to do with ladies . . .
BOLSHINTSOV
(With a sigh) That’s right, sir. It might be said, Ignaty Ilyich, that I’ve shunned the female sex since childhood.
SHPIGELSKY
(With a sigh) Well, there. That’s not a flaw in a husband. On the contrary. But all the same, on certain occasions, for instance, a first declaration of love, it’s necessary to be able to say at least something . . . Right?
BOLSHINTSOV
I agree with you completely.
SHPIGELSKY
Otherwise Vera Alexandrovna might think you were just feeling unwell. Besides, your looks, though also acceptable in all respects, offer nothing for the eye, you know, nothing that strikes the eye. And that’s called for nowadays.
BOLSHINTSOV
(With a sigh) That’s called for nowadays.
Girls like it, anyway. Well, and then there’s your age . . . in short, we can’t bring it off by paying compliments. So you can forget about pleasant little phrases. You can’t count on them. But you have something much more firm and reliable to count on—namely, your qualities, my esteemed friend, and your three hundred and twenty souls. If I were you, I’d simply tell Vera Alexandrovna . . .
BOLSHINTSOV
Alone?
SHPIGELSKY
Oh, absolutely alone! “Vera Alexandrovna!”
By Bolshintsov’s moving lips, it is clear that he is silently repeating every word after Shpigelsky.
“I love you and I ask for your hand. I’m a good man, simple, quiet, and not poor: with me you will be perfectly free; I shall try to please you in everything. Kindly make inquiries about me, and kindly pay me a little more attention than you have up to now—and give me an answer, whichever you like, and whenever you like. I’m ready to wait and will even count it a pleasure.”
BOLSHINTSOV
(Repeating the last words aloud) “A pleasure.” Right, right, right . . . I agree with you. Only here’s the thing, Ignaty Ilyich: it seems you were so good as to use the word “quiet”. . . that is, that I’m a quiet man . . .
SHPIGELSKY
You mean you’re not a quiet man?
BOLSHINTSOV
No, I am, sir . . . but all the same, it seems to me . . . Will it be appropriate, Ignaty Ilyich? Wouldn’t it be better to say, for instance . . .
For instance?
BOLSHINTSOV
For instance . . . for instance . . . (Pause) Though maybe we can just as well say “quiet.”
SHPIGELSKY
Eh, Afanasy Ivanych, you listen to me: the simpler you express yourself, the less flowery you speak, the better things will go, believe me. And above all don’t insist, don’t insist, Afanasy Ivanych. Vera Alexandrovna is still very young. You may frighten her . . . Give her time to think your proposal over. Ah, yes! One more thing . . . I almost forgot: you said I could give you advice . . . Don’t speak French. I remember you once called a generous host a “bonzhiban”—you said, “What a bonzhiban he is!” A nice word, of course, but unfortunately it’s totally meaningless. You know, I’m none too clever regarding the French dialect myself, but I do know that much. Avoid eloquence, and I guarantee you success. (Looking around) By the way, here they are, all coming this way.
Bolshintsov starts to leave.
Where are you going? More mushrooms?
Bolshintsov smiles, blushes, and stays.
Above all, don’t be scared!
BOLSHINTSOV
(Hastily) But Vera Alexandrovna doesn’t know anything yet?
SHPIGELSKY
Of course not!
BOLSHINTSOV
Anyway, I’m counting on you . . .
He blows his nose. From left enter Natalya Petrovna, Vera, Belyaev, with the kite, and Kolya, followed by Rakitin and Lizaveta Bogdanovna. Natalya Petrovna is in very high spirits.
NATALYA
(To Bolshintsov and Shpigelsky) Greetings, gentlemen. Shpigelsky. I wasn’t expecting you today, but I’m always glad to see you. Greetings, Afanasy Ivanych.
Bolshintsov makes his bows in some perplexity.
SHPIGELSKY
(To Natalya Petrovna, pointing to Bolshintsov) This gentleman absolutely insisted on bringing me here . . .
NATALYA
(Laughing) I’m much obliged to him . . . But must you really be forced to visit us?
SHPIGELSKY
Good God! But I . . . only this morning . . . From here . . . Good God! . . .
NATALYA
Ah, he’s confused, mister diplomat’s confused!
SHPIGELSKY
I’m very pleased, Natalya Petrovna, to see you in such—so far as I can observe—such high spirits.
NATALYA
Ah! You consider it necessary to tell me that . . . Does it really happen to me so rarely?
SHPIGELSKY
Oh, good God, no . . . but . . .
Monsieur le diplomate, you’re getting more and more confused.
KOLYA
(Who all the while has been fidgeting nervously around Belyaev and Vera) So, maman, when are we going to fly the kite?
NATALYA
Whenever you like . . . Alexei Nikolaich and you, Verochka, let’s go to the meadow . . . (Turning to the rest) I don’t think this can interest you all that much, gentlemen. Lizaveta Bogdanovna and you, Rakitin, I leave you in charge of our good Afanasy Ivanych.
RAKITIN
Why do you think it won’t interest us, Natalya Petrovna?
NATALYA
You’re intelligent people . . . All this must seem silly to you . . . However, as you like. We’re not preventing you from coming with us . . . (To Belyaev and Verochka) Let’s go.
Natalya, Vera, Belyaev and Kolya exit right.
SHPIGELSKY
(Looking with some surprise at Rakitin and Bolshintsov) Our good Afanasy Ivanych, offer Lizaveta Bogdanovna your arm.
BOLSHINTSOV
(Hastily) With great pleasure . . . (He takes Lizaveta Bogdanovna under the arm)
SHPIGELSKY
(To Rakitin) And we’ll go together, if you don’t mind, Mikhail Alexandrych. (Takes him under the arm) Look at them running down the path. Let’s go and watch how they fly the kite, even if we are intelligent people . . . Afanasy Ivanych, why don’t you go first?
(To Lizaveta Bogdanovna, as they walk) The weather, today, is very, you might say, pleasant, ma’am.
LIZAVETA
(Mincing) Oh, very!
SHPIGELSKY
(To Rakitin) I need to talk with you, Mikhail Alexandrych . . .
Rakitin suddenly laughs.
What are you . . . ?
RAKITIN
Just . . . never mind . . . I find it funny that we’ve wound up in the rear guard.
SHPIGELSKY
You know, it’s very easy for the advance guard to become the rear guard . . . All it takes is a change of direction.
Exeunt right.
Curtain.