Антон Чехов
Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series
MERCHUTKINA. Yes, yes, yes… I understand, my dear. In that case, your excellency, just order them to pay me 15 roubles! I don’t mind taking that to be going on with.
SHIPUCHIN. [Sighs] Ouf!
KHIRIN. Andrey Andreyevitch, I’ll never finish the report at this rate!
SHIPUCHIN. One moment. [To MERCHUTKINA] I can’t get any sense out of you. But do understand that your taking this business here is as absurd as if you took a divorce petition to a chemist’s or into a gold assay office. [Knock at the door. The voice of TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA is heard, “Can I come in, Andrey?” SHIPUCHIN shouts] Just wait one minute, dear! [To MERCHUTKINA] What has it got to do with us if you haven’t been paid? As it happens, madam, this is an anniversary to-day, we’re busy… and somebody may be coming here at any moment… Excuse me…
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, have pity on me, an orphan! I’m a weak, defenceless woman… I’m tired to death… I’m having trouble with my lodgers, and on account of my husband, and I’ve got the house to look after, and my son-in-law is out of work…
SHIPUCHIN. Mrs. Merchutkina, I… No, excuse me, I can’t talk to you! My head’s even in a whirl… You are disturbing us and making us waste our time. [Sighs, aside] What a business, as my name’s Shipuchin! [To KHIRIN] Kusma Nicolaievitch, will you please explain to Mrs. Merchutkina. [Waves his hand and goes out into public department.]
KHIRIN. [Approaching MERCHUTKINA, angrily] What do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. I’m a weak, defenceless woman… I may look all right, but if you were to take me to pieces you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit in me! I can hardly stand on my legs, and I’ve lost my appetite. I drank my coffee to-day and got no pleasure out of it.
KHIRIN. I ask you, what do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Tell them, my dear, to give me 15 roubles, and a month later will do for the rest.
KHIRIN. But haven’t you been told perfectly plainly that this is a bank!
MERCHUTKINA. Yes, yes… And if you like I can show you the doctor’s certificate.
KHIRIN. Have you got a head on your shoulders, or what?
MERCHUTKINA. My dear, I’m asking for what’s mine by law. I don’t want what isn’t mine.
KHIRIN. I ask you, madam, have you got a head on your shoulders, or what? Well, devil take me, I haven’t any time to talk to you! I’m busy… [Points to the door] That way, please!
MERCHUTKINA. [Surprised] And where’s the money?
KHIRIN. You haven’t a head, but this [Taps the table and then points to his forehead.]
MERCHUTKINA. [Offended] What? Well, never mind, never mind… You can do that to your own wife, but I’m the wife of a civil servant… You can’t do that to me!
KHIRIN. [Losing his temper] Get out of this!
MERCHUTKINA. No, no, no… none of that!
KHIRIN. If you don’t get out this second, I’ll call for the hall-porter! Get out! [Stamping.]
MERCHUTKINA. Never mind, never mind! I’m not afraid! I’ve seen the like of you before! Miser!
KHIRIN. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more awful woman in my life… Ouf! It’s given me a headache… [Breathing heavily] I tell you once more… do you hear me? If you don’t get out of this, you old devil, I’ll grind you into powder! I’ve got such a character that I’m perfectly capable of laming you for life! I can commit a crime!
MERCHUTKINA. I’ve heard barking dogs before. I’m not afraid. I’ve seen the like of you before.
KHIRIN. [In despair] I can’t stand it! I’m ill! I can’t! [Sits down at his desk] They’ve let the Bank get filled with women, and I can’t finish my report! I can’t.
MERCHUTKINA. I don’t want anybody else’s money, but my own, according to law. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Sitting in a government office in felt boots…
[Enter SHIPUCHIN and TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA.]
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Following her husband] We spent the evening at the Berezhnitskys. Katya was wearing a sky-blue frock of foulard silk, cut low at the neck… She looks very well with her hair done over her head, and I did her hair myself… She was perfectly fascinating…
SHIPUCHIN. [Who has had enough of it already] Yes, yes… fascinating… They may be here any moment…
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency!
SHIPUCHIN. [Dully] What else? What do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency! [Points to KHIRIN] This man… this man tapped the table with his finger, and then his head… You told him to look after my affair, but he insults me and says all sorts of things. I’m a weak, defenceless woman…
SHIPUCHIN. All right, madam, I’ll see to it… and take the necessary steps… Go away now… later on! [Aside] My gout’s coming on!
KHIRIN. [In a low tone to SHIPUCHIN] Andrey Andreyevitch, send for the hall-porter and have her turned out neck and crop! What else can we do?
SHIPUCHIN. [Frightened] No, no! She’ll kick up a row and we aren’t the only people in the building.
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency.
KHIRIN. [In a tearful voice] But I’ve got to finish my report! I won’t have time! I won’t!
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, when shall I have the money? I want it now.
SHIPUCHIN. [Aside, in dismay] A re-mark-ab-ly beastly woman! [Politely] Madam, I’ve already told you, this is a bank, a private, commercial concern.
MERCHUTKINA. Be a father to me, your excellency… If the doctor’s certificate isn’t enough, I can get you another from the police. Tell them to give me the money!
SHIPUCHIN. [Panting] Ouf!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [To MERCHUTKINA] Mother, haven’t you already been told that you’re disturbing them? What right have you?
MERCHUTKINA. Mother, beautiful one, nobody will help me. All I do is to eat and drink, and just now I didn’t enjoy my coffee at all.
SHIPUCHIN. [Exhausted] How much do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. 24 roubles 36 copecks.
SHIPUCHIN. All right! [Takes a 25-rouble note out of his pocket-book and gives it to her] Here are 25 roubles. Take it and… go!
[KHIRIN coughs angrily.]
MERCHUTKINA. I thank you very humbly, your excellency. [Hides the money.]
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Sits by her husband] It’s time I went home… [Looks at watch] But I haven’t done yet… I’ll finish in one minute and go away… What a time we had! Yes, what a time! We went to spend the evening at the Berezhnitskys… It was all right, quite fun, but nothing in particular… Katya’s devoted Grendilevsky was there, of course… Well, I talked to Katya, cried, and induced her to talk to Grendilevsky and refuse him. Well, I thought, everything’s, settled the best possible way; I’ve quieted mamma down, saved Katya, and can be quiet myself… What do you think? Katya and I were going along the avenue, just before supper, and suddenly… [Excitedly] And suddenly we heard a shot… No, I can’t talk about it calmly! [Waves her handkerchief] No, I can’t!
SHIPUCHIN. [Sighs] Ouf!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Weeps] We ran to the summer-house, and there… there poor Grendilevsky was lying… with a pistol in his hand…
SHIPUCHIN. No, I can’t stand this! I can’t stand it! [To MERCHUTKINA] What else do you want?
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, can’t my husband go back to his job?
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Weeping] He’d shot himself right in the heart… here… And the poor man had fallen down senseless… And he was awfully frightened, as he lay there… and asked for a doctor. A doctor came soon… and saved the unhappy man…
MERCHUTKINA. Your excellency, can’t my husband go back to his job?
SHIPUCHIN. No, I can’t stand this! [Weeps] I can’t stand it! [Stretches out both his hands in despair to KHIRIN] Drive her away! Drive her away, I implore you!
KHIRIN. [Goes up to TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA] Get out of this!
SHIPUCHIN. Not her, but this one… this awful woman… [Points] That one!
KHIRIN. [Not understanding, to TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA] Get out of this! [Stamps] Get out!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. What? What are you doing? Have you taken leave of your senses?
SHIPUCHIN. It’s awful? I’m a miserable man! Drive her out! Out with her!
KHIRIN. [To TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA] Out of it! I’ll cripple you! I’ll knock you out of shape! I’ll break the law!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Running from him; he chases her] How dare you! You impudent fellow! [Shouts] Andrey! Help! Andrey! [Screams.]
SHIPUCHIN. [Chasing them] Stop! I implore you! Not such a noise? Have pity on me!
KHIRIN. [Chasing MERCHUTKINA] Out of this! Catch her! Hit her! Cut her into pieces!
SHIPUCHIN. [Shouts] Stop! I ask you! I implore you!
MERCHUTKINA. Little fathers… little fathers! [Screams] Little fathers!..
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Shouts] Help! Help!.. Oh, oh… I’m sick, I’m sick! [Jumps on to a chair, then falls on to the sofa and groans as if in a faint.]
KHIRIN. [Chasing MERCHUTKINA] Hit her! Beat her! Cut her to pieces!
MERCHUTKINA. Oh, oh… little fathers, it’s all dark before me! Ah! [Falls senseless into SHIPUCHIN’S arms. There is a knock at the door; a VOICE announces THE DEPUTATION] The deputation… reputation… occupation…
KHIRIN. [Stamps] Get out of it, devil take me! [Turns up his sleeves] Give her to me: I may break the law!
[A deputation of five men enters; they all wear frockcoats. One carries the velvet-covered address, another, the loving-cup. Employees look in at the door, from the public department. TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA on the sofa, and MERCHUTKINA in SHIPUCHIN’S arms are both groaning.]
ONE OF THE DEPUTATION. [Reads aloud] “Deeply respected and dear Andrey Andreyevitch! Throwing a retrospective glance at the past history of our financial administration, and reviewing in our minds its gradual development, we receive an extremely satisfactory impression. It is true that in the first period of its existence, the inconsiderable amount of its capital, and the absence of serious operations of any description, and also the indefinite aims of this bank, made us attach an extreme importance to the question raised by Hamlet, ‘To be or not to be,’ and at one time there were even voices to be heard demanding our liquidation. But at that moment you become the head of our concern. Your knowledge, energies, and your native tact were the causes of extraordinary success and widespread extension. The reputation of the bank… [Coughs] reputation of the bank…”
MERCHUTKINA. [Groans] Oh! Oh!
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA. [Groans] Water! Water!
THE MEMBER OF THE DEPUTATION. [Continues] The reputation [Coughs]… the reputation of the bank has been raised by you to such a height that we are now the rivals of the best foreign concerns.
SHIPUCHIN. Deputation… reputation… occupation… Two friends that had a walk at night, held converse by the pale moonlight… Oh tell me not, that youth is vain, that jealousy has turned my brain.
THE MEMBER OF THE DEPUTATION. [Continues in confusion] “Then, throwing an objective glance at the present condition of things, we, deeply respected and dear Andrey Andreyevitch… [Lowering his voice] In that case, we’ll do it later on… Yes, later on…” [DEPUTATION goes out in confusion.]
Curtain
THE THREE SISTERS
A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS
CHARACTERS
ANDREY SERGEYEVITCH PROSOROV
NATALIA IVANOVA (NATASHA), his fiancée, later his wife (28)
His sisters:
OLGA
MASHA
IRINA
FEODOR ILITCH KULIGIN, high school teacher, married to MASHA (20)
ALEXANDER IGNATEYEVITCH VERSHININ, lieutenant-colonel in charge of a battery (42)
NICOLAI LVOVITCH TUZENBACH, baron, lieutenant in the army (30)
VASSILI VASSILEVITCH SOLENI, captain
IVAN ROMANOVITCH CHEBUTIKIN, army doctor (60)
ALEXEY PETROVITCH FEDOTIK, sub-lieutenant
VLADIMIR CARLOVITCH RODE, sub-lieutenant
FERAPONT, door-keeper at local council offices, an old man
ANFISA, nurse (80)
The action takes place in a provincial town.
[Ages are stated in brackets.]
ACT I
[In PROSOROV’S house. A sitting-room with pillars; behind is seen a large dining-room. It is midday, the sun is shining brightly outside. In the dining-room the table is being laid for lunch.]
[OLGA, in the regulation blue dress of a teacher at a girl’s high school, is walking about correcting exercise books; MASHA, in a black dress, with a hat on her knees, sits and reads a book; IRINA, in white, stands about, with a thoughtful expression.]
OLGA. It’s just a year since father died last May the fifth, on your name-day, Irina. It was very cold then, and snowing. I thought I would never survive it, and you were in a dead faint. And now a year has gone by and we are already thinking about it without pain, and you are wearing a white dress and your face is happy. [Clock strikes twelve] And the clock struck just the same way then. [Pause] I remember that there was music at the funeral, and they fired a volley in the cemetery. He was a general in command of a brigade but there were few people present. Of course, it was raining then, raining hard, and snowing.
IRINA. Why think about it!
[BARON TUZENBACH, CHEBUTIKIN and SOLENI appear by the table in the dining-room, behind the pillars.]
OLGA. It’s so warm to-day that we can keep the windows open, though the birches are not yet in flower. Father was put in command of a brigade, and he rode out of Moscow with us eleven years ago. I remember perfectly that it was early in May and that everything in Moscow was flowering then. It was warm too, everything was bathed in sunshine. Eleven years have gone, and I remember everything as if we rode out only yesterday. Oh, God! When I awoke this morning and saw all the light and the spring, joy entered my heart, and I longed passionately to go home.
CHEBUTIKIN. Will you take a bet on it?
TUZENBACH. Oh, nonsense.
[MASHA, lost in a reverie over her book, whistles softly.]
OLGA. Don’t whistle, Masha. How can you! [Pause] I’m always having headaches from having to go to the High School every day and then teach till evening. Strange thoughts come to me, as if I were already an old woman. And really, during these four years that I have been working here, I have been feeling as if every day my strength and youth have been squeezed out of me, drop by drop. And only one desire grows and gains in strength…
IRINA. To go away to Moscow. To sell the house, drop everything here, and go to Moscow…
OLGA. Yes! To Moscow, and as soon as possible.
[CHEBUTIKIN and TUZENBACH laugh.]
IRINA. I expect Andrey will become a professor, but still, he won’t want to live here. Only poor Masha must go on living here.
OLGA. Masha can come to Moscow every year, for the whole summer.
[MASHA is whistling gently.]
IRINA. Everything will be arranged, please God. [Looks out of the window] It’s nice out to-day. I don’t know why I’m so happy: I remembered this morning that it was my name-day, and I suddenly felt glad and remembered my childhood, when mother was still with us. What beautiful thoughts I had, what thoughts!
OLGA. You’re all radiance to-day, I’ve never seen you look so lovely. And Masha is pretty, too. Andrey wouldn’t be bad-looking, if he wasn’t so stout; it does spoil his appearance. But I’ve grown old and very thin, I suppose it’s because I get angry with the girls at school. To-day I’m free. I’m at home. I haven’t got a headache, and I feel younger than I was yesterday. I’m only twenty-eight… All’s well, God is everywhere, but it seems to me that if only I were married and could stay at home all day, it would be even better. [Pause] I should love my husband.
TUZENBACH. [To SOLENI] I’m tired of listening to the rot you talk. [Entering the sitting-room] I forgot to say that Vershinin, our new lieutenant-colonel of artillery, is coming to see us to-day. [Sits down to the piano.]
OLGA. That’s good. I’m glad.
IRINA. Is he old?
TUZENBACH. Oh, no. Forty or forty-five, at the very outside. [Plays softly] He seems rather a good sort. He’s certainly no fool, only he likes to hear himself speak.
IRINA. Is he interesting?
TUZENBACH. Oh, he’s all right, but there’s his wife, his mother-in-law, and two daughters. This is his second wife. He pays calls and tells everybody that he’s got a wife and two daughters. He’ll tell you so here. The wife isn’t all there, she does her hair like a flapper and gushes extremely. She talks philosophy and tries to commit suicide every now and again, apparently in order to annoy her husband. I should have left her long ago, but he bears up patiently, and just grumbles.
SOLENI. [Enters with CHEBUTIKIN from the dining-room] With one hand I can only lift fifty-four pounds, but with both hands I can lift 180, or even 200 pounds. From this I conclude that two men are not twice as strong as one, but three times, perhaps even more…
CHEBUTIKIN. [Reads a newspaper as he walks] If your hair is coming out… take an ounce of naphthaline and hail a bottle of spirit… dissolve and use daily… [Makes a note in his pocket diary] When found make a note of! Not that I want it though… [Crosses it out] It doesn’t matter.
IRINA. Ivan Romanovitch, dear Ivan Romanovitch!
CHEBUTIKIN. What does my own little girl want?
IRINA. Ivan Romanovitch, dear Ivan Romanovitch! I feel as if I were sailing under the broad blue sky with great white birds around me. Why is that? Why?
CHEBUTIKIN. [Kisses her hands, tenderly] My white bird…
IRINA. When I woke up to-day and got up and dressed myself, I suddenly began to feel as if everything in this life was open to me, and that I knew how I must live. Dear Ivan Romanovitch, I know everything. A man must work, toil in the sweat of his brow, whoever he may be, for that is the meaning and object of his life, his happiness, his enthusiasm. How fine it is to be a workman who gets up at daybreak and breaks stones in the street, or a shepherd, or a schoolmaster, who teaches children, or an engine-driver on the railway… My God, let alone a man, it’s better to be an ox, or just a horse, so long as it can work, than a young woman who wakes up at twelve o’clock, has her coffee in bed, and then spends two hours dressing… Oh it’s awful! Sometimes when it’s hot, your thirst can be just as tiresome as my need for work. And if I don’t get up early in future and work, Ivan Romanovitch, then you may refuse me your friendship.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Tenderly] I’ll refuse, I’ll refuse…
OLGA. Father used to make us get up at seven. Now Irina wakes at seven and lies and meditates about something till nine at least. And she looks so serious! [Laughs.]
IRINA. You’re so used to seeing me as a little girl that it seems queer to you when my face is serious. I’m twenty!
TUZENBACH. How well I can understand that craving for work, oh God! I’ve never worked once in my life. I was born in Petersburg, a chilly, lazy place, in a family which never knew what work or worry meant. I remember that when I used to come home from my regiment, a footman used to have to pull off my boots while I fidgeted and my mother looked on in adoration and wondered why other people didn’t see me in the same light. They shielded me from work; but only just in time! A new age is dawning, the people are marching on us all, a powerful, health-giving storm is gathering, it is drawing near, soon it will be upon us and it will drive away laziness, indifference, the prejudice against labour, and rotten dullness from our society. I shall work, and in twenty-five or thirty years, every man will have to work. Every one!
CHEBUTIKIN. I shan’t work.
TUZENBACH. You don’t matter.
SOLENI. In twenty-five years’ time, we shall all be dead, thank the Lord. In two or three years’ time apoplexy will carry you off, or else I’ll blow your brains out, my pet. [Takes a scent-bottle out of his pocket and sprinkles his chest and hands.]
CHEBUTIKIN. [Laughs] It’s quite true, I never have worked. After I came down from the university I never stirred a finger or opened a book, I just read the papers… [Takes another newspaper out of his pocket] Here we are… I’ve learnt from the papers that there used to be one, Dobrolubov [Note: Dobroluboy (1836-81), in spite of the shortness of his career, established himself as one of the classic literary critics of Russia], for instance, but what he wrote – I don’t know… God only knows… [Somebody is heard tapping on the floor from below] There… They’re calling me downstairs, somebody’s come to see me. I’ll be back in a minute… won’t be long… [Exit hurriedly, scratching his beard.]
IRINA. He’s up to something.
TUZENBACH. Yes, he looked so pleased as he went out that I’m pretty certain he’ll bring you a present in a moment.
IRINA. How unpleasant!
OLGA. Yes, it’s awful. He’s always doing silly things.
MASHA.
“There stands a green oak by the sea.
And a chain of bright gold is around it…
And a chain of bright gold is around it…”
[Gets up and sings softly.]
OLGA. You’re not very bright to-day, Masha. [MASHA sings, putting on her hat] Where are you off to?
MASHA. Home.
IRINA. That’s odd…
TUZENBACH. On a name-day, too!
MASHA. It doesn’t matter. I’ll come in the evening. Good-bye, dear. [Kisses MASHA] Many happy returns, though I’ve said it before. In the old days when father was alive, every time we had a name-day, thirty or forty officers used to come, and there was lots of noise and fun, and to-day there’s only a man and a half, and it’s as quiet as a desert… I’m off… I’ve got the hump to-day, and am not at all cheerful, so don’t you mind me. [Laughs through her tears] We’ll have a talk later on, but good-bye for the present, my dear; I’ll go somewhere.
IRINA. [Displeased] You are queer…
OLGA. [Crying] I understand you, Masha.
SOLENI. When a man talks philosophy, well, it is philosophy or at any rate sophistry; but when a woman, or two women, talk philosophy – it’s all my eye.
MASHA. What do you mean by that, you very awful man?
SOLENI. Oh, nothing. You came down on me before I could say… help! [Pause.]
MASHA. [Angrily, to OLGA] Don’t cry!
[Enter ANFISA and FERAPONT with a cake.]
ANFISA. This way, my dear. Come in, your feet are clean. [To IRINA] From the District Council, from Mihail Ivanitch Protopopov… a cake.
IRINA. Thank you. Please thank him. [Takes the cake.]
FERAPONT. What?
IRINA. [Louder] Please thank him.
OLGA. Give him a pie, nurse. Ferapont, go, she’ll give you a pie.
FERAPONT. What?
ANFISA. Come on, gran’fer, Ferapont Spiridonitch. Come on. [Exeunt.]
MASHA. I don’t like this Mihail Potapitch or Ivanitch, Protopopov. We oughtn’t to invite him here.
IRINA. I never asked him.
MASHA. That’s all right.
[Enter CHEBUTIKIN followed by a soldier with a silver samovar; there is a rumble of dissatisfied surprise.]
OLGA. [Covers her face with her hands] A samovar! That’s awful! [Exit into the dining-room, to the table.]
IRINA. My dear Ivan Romanovitch, what are you doing!
TUZENBACH. [Laughs] I told you so!
MASHA. Ivan Romanovitch, you are simply shameless!
CHEBUTIKIN. My dear good girl, you are the only thing, and the dearest thing I have in the world. I’ll soon be sixty. I’m an old man, a lonely worthless old man. The only good thing in me is my love for you, and if it hadn’t been for that, I would have been dead long ago… [To IRINA] My dear little girl, I’ve known you since the day of your birth, I’ve carried you in my arms… I loved your dead mother…
MASHA. But your presents are so expensive!
CHEBUTIKIN. [Angrily, through his tears] Expensive presents… You really, are!.. [To the orderly] Take the samovar in there… [Teasing] Expensive presents!
[The orderly goes into the dining-room with the samovar.]
ANFISA. [Enters and crosses stage] My dear, there’s a strange Colonel come! He’s taken off his coat already. Children, he’s coming here. Irina darling, you’ll be a nice and polite little girl, won’t you… Should have lunched a long time ago… Oh, Lord… [Exit.]
TUZENBACH. It must be Vershinin. [Enter VERSHININ] Lieutenant-Colonel Vershinin!
VERSHININ. [To MASHA and IRINA] I have the honour to introduce myself, my name is Vershinin. I am very glad indeed to be able to come at last. How you’ve grown! Oh! oh!
IRINA. Please sit down. We’re very glad you’ve come.
VERSHININ. [Gaily] I am glad, very glad! But there are three sisters, surely. I remember – three little girls. I forget your faces, but your father, Colonel Prosorov, used to have three little girls, I remember that perfectly, I saw them with my own eyes. How time does fly! Oh, dear, how it flies!
TUZENBACH. Alexander Ignateyevitch comes from Moscow.
IRINA. From Moscow? Are you from Moscow?
VERSHININ. Yes, that’s so. Your father used to be in charge of a battery there, and I was an officer in the same brigade. [To MASHA] I seem to remember your face a little.
MASHA. I don’t remember you.
IRINA. Olga! Olga! [Shouts into the dining-room] Olga! Come along! [OLGA enters from the dining-room] Lieutenant Colonel Vershinin comes from Moscow, as it happens.
VERSHININ. I take it that you are Olga Sergeyevna, the eldest, and that you are Maria… and you are Irina, the youngest…
OLGA. So you come from Moscow?
VERSHININ. Yes. I went to school in Moscow and began my service there; I was there for a long time until at last I got my battery and moved over here, as you see. I don’t really remember you, I only remember that there used to be three sisters. I remember your father well; I have only to shut my eyes to see him as he was. I used to come to your house in Moscow…
OLGA. I used to think I remembered everybody, but…
VERSHININ. My name is Alexander Ignateyevitch.
IRINA. Alexander Ignateyevitch, you’ve come from Moscow. That is really quite a surprise!
OLGA. We are going to live there, you see.
IRINA. We think we may be there this autumn. It’s our native town, we were born there. In Old Basmanni Road… [They both laugh for joy.]
MASHA. We’ve unexpectedly met a fellow countryman. [Briskly] I remember: Do you remember, Olga, they used to speak at home of a “lovelorn Major.” You were only a Lieutenant then, and in love with somebody, but for some reason they always called you a Major for fun.
VERSHININ. [Laughs] That’s it… the lovelorn Major, that’s got it!
MASHA. You only wore moustaches then. You have grown older! [Through her tears] You have grown older!
VERSHININ. Yes, when they used to call me the lovelorn Major, I was young and in love. I’ve grown out of both now.
OLGA. But you haven’t a single white hair yet. You’re older, but you’re not yet old.
VERSHININ. I’m forty-two, anyway. Have you been away from Moscow long?
IRINA. Eleven years. What are you crying for, Masha, you little fool… [Crying] And I’m crying too.
MASHA. It’s all right. And where did you live?
VERSHININ. Old Basmanni Road.
OLGA. Same as we.
VERSHININ. Once I used to live in German Street. That was when the Red Barracks were my headquarters. There’s an ugly bridge in between, where the water rushes underneath. One gets melancholy when one is alone there. [Pause] Here the river is so wide and fine! It’s a splendid river!
OLGA. Yes, but it’s so cold. It’s very cold here, and the midges…
VERSHININ. What are you saying! Here you’ve got such a fine healthy Russian climate. You’ve a forest, a river… and birches. Dear, modest birches, I like them more than any other tree. It’s good to live here. Only it’s odd that the railway station should be thirteen miles away… Nobody knows why.
SOLENI. I know why. [All look at him] Because if it was near it wouldn’t be far off, and if it’s far off, it can’t be near. [An awkward pause.]
TUZENBACH. Funny man.
OLGA. Now I know who you are. I remember.
VERSHININ. I used to know your mother.
CHEBUTIKIN. She was a good woman, rest her soul.
IRINA. Mother is buried in Moscow.
OLGA. At the Novo-Devichi Cemetery.
MASHA. Do you know, I’m beginning to forget her face. We’ll be forgotten in just the same way.
VERSHININ. Yes, they’ll forget us. It’s our fate, it can’t be helped. A time will come when everything that seems serious, significant, or very important to us will be forgotten, or considered trivial. [Pause] And the curious thing is that we can’t possibly find out what will come to be regarded as great and important, and what will be feeble, or silly. Didn’t the discoveries of Copernicus, or Columbus, say, seem unnecessary and ludicrous at first, while wasn’t it thought that some rubbish written by a fool, held all the truth? And it may so happen that our present existence, with which we are so satisfied, will in time appear strange, inconvenient, stupid, unclean, perhaps even sinful…
TUZENBACH. Who knows? But on the other hand, they may call our life noble and honour its memory. We’ve abolished torture and capital punishment, we live in security, but how much suffering there is still!
SOLENI. [In a feeble voice] There, there… The Baron will go without his dinner if you only let him talk philosophy.
TUZENBACH. Vassili Vassilevitch, kindly leave me alone. [Changes his chair] You’re very dull, you know.
SOLENI. [Feebly] There, there, there.
TUZENBACH. [To VERSHININ] The sufferings we see to-day – there are so many of them! – still indicate a certain moral improvement in society.
VERSHININ. Yes, yes, of course.
CHEBUTIKIN. You said just now, Baron, that they may call our life noble; but we are very petty… [Stands up] See how little I am. [Violin played behind.]
MASHA. That’s Andrey playing – our brother.
IRINA. He’s the learned member of the family. I expect he will be a professor some day. Father was a soldier, but his son chose an academic career for himself.
MASHA. That was father’s wish.
OLGA. We ragged him to-day. We think he’s a little in love.
IRINA. To a local lady. She will probably come here to-day.
MASHA. You should see the way she dresses! Quite prettily, quite fashionably too, but so badly! Some queer bright yellow skirt with a wretched little fringe and a red bodice. And such a complexion! Andrey isn’t in love. After all he has taste, he’s simply making fun of us. I heard yesterday that she was going to marry Protopopov, the chairman of the Local Council. That would do her nicely… [At the side door] Andrey, come here! Just for a minute, dear! [Enter ANDREY.]
OLGA. My brother, Andrey Sergeyevitch.
VERSHININ. My name is Vershinin.
ANDREY. Mine is Prosorov. [Wipes his perspiring hands] You’ve come to take charge of the battery?
OLGA. Just think, Alexander Ignateyevitch comes from Moscow.
ANDREY. That’s all right. Now my little sisters won’t give you any rest.
VERSHININ. I’ve already managed to bore your sisters.
IRINA. Just look what a nice little photograph frame Andrey gave me to-day. [Shows it] He made it himself.
VERSHININ. [Looks at the frame and does not know what to say] Yes… It’s a thing that…
