A small room in the house ofTORTSÓV,furnished with cupboards of various sorts; chests and shelves with plates and silver. Furniture: sofas, armchairs, and tables, all very expensive and crowded together. Usually this room is used as a sort of sitting-room for the mistress of the house, where she directs her household, and where she receives her guests informally. One door leads into the room where the guests are dining, and the other into the inner rooms.
ARÍNAis seated on a chair near the door leading into the dining-room; near her are several girls and women.
ARÍNA. [Looking into the dining-room] I didn't expect this, my dear friends! I never thought to see it! He fell upon us like a hawk—like snow on the head; he seized our darling swan from the flock of her dear ones, from father, from mother, from kinsfolk, and from friends. We didn't realize what was happening. What things happen in this world of ours! Nowadays people are double-faced and sly, crafty, and cunning. He fairly befogged Gordéy Kárpych with this and that in his old age, and he began to hanker after his wealth. They have engaged our lovely beauty to a disgusting old man. Now she is sitting there, my darling, broken-hearted! Oh, I'm ready to die! After I have brought you up and nursed you, and carried you in my arms! I cared for you like a little bird—in cotton wool! Just now she and I were talking it over together. "We won't give you up, my child," I said, "to a common man! Only if some prince comes from foreign lands, and blows his trumpet at our door." But things didn't turn out our way. Now there he sits—the man who is going to tear her away—fat and flabby! Staring and smirking at her! He likes it! Oh, confound you! Well, now they've finished eating and are getting up; I must set to work.
Rises from her chair; the women go out;PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNAcomes in.
ARÍNAandPELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Come along, Arinushka, and help me to get the table ready. Yes, I'll sit down and rest—I'm tired.
ARÍNA. Of course you are tired, my dear! Day in, day out, on your feet! You aren't as young as you were once!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. [Seating herself on the sofa] Oh! Tell them to send the big samovar to the maids' room—the very biggest; and find Annushka and send her to me.
ARÍNA. Certainly, certainly.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, go along! Go along! Oh, I can't stand it! [ARÍNAgoes out] My head's fairly splitting! Nothing but sorrow—and here comes more trouble! Yes, yes, I'm worried to death! Oh, oh, oh! I'm tired out, absolutely tired out! I've a lot to do, and my head's just spinning. I'm needed here, and I'm needed there, and I don't know what to begin on! Really—yes—[Sits and tries to think] What a husband for her! What a husband! Oh, oh, oh! How can you expect her to love him! Do you think she is hankering after his money? She is a girl now—in the bloom of youth—and I suppose her heart beats now and then! What she ought to have now is a man she can love—even if he's poor—that would be life! That would be paradise!
ANNA IVÁNOVNAcomes in.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNAandANNA IVÁNOVNA
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Here are the keys of the tea cupboard. Go along and pour it out for the guests, and do everything that is necessary—you know yourself! I've walked my legs off! But you don't mind it; you're young yet—yes, go and serve them.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. I'd just as soon as not. It's no great work; my hands won't wear out!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. There—there's the tea in the cupboard, in the little red caddy.
ANNA IVÁNOVNAunlocks the door and takes out the caddy.MÍTYAcomes in.
The same andMÍTYA
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. What do you want, Mítya dear?
MÍTYA. [Keeping back his tears] I—I—Pelagéya Egórovna, for all your kindness, and for all your consideration—even though it may be I am not worth it—seeing that while I was an orphan—you never deserted me—and like a mother—I will be thankful to you all my life, and will always pray to God for you. [Bows down to her feet.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. But what are you doing, Mítya?
MÍTYA. I thank you for everything. And now good-by, Pelagéya Egórovna. [Rises.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Where are you going?
MÍTYA. I plan to go to my mother's.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Are you going for long?
MÍTYA. Yes, I asked the master for a vacation, and it's most likely thatI'll stay there for good.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. But why do you wish to leave us, Mítya?
MÍTYA. [Hesitating] Why, I just!—You see—I've already decided.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. But when are you going?
MÍTYA. To-night. [Is silent] I thought to myself that I shouldn't see you before to-night, and so I came to say good-by.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Very well, Mítya, if you are needed there—we won't keep you; God be with you! Good-by!
MÍTYA. [_Bows down to the feet of _PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA,exchanges kisses with her and withANNA IVÁNOVNA;then bows again and waits] Might I be allowed to say good-by to Lyubóv Gordéyevna? You see we have lived in the same house—maybe I shall die before I see her again!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, you must, you must. Say good-by to her, of course!Annushka, go and fetch Lyubóv.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. [Shaking her head] "One man leads her by one hand, another by the other, a third stands and sheds tears; he loved her, but did not get her."
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA and MÍTYA
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Oh, Mítya, my dear! What trouble we are in! How can we drive it away—get rid of it—I cannot think. It's as if a thunderbolt had struck me! I can't recover myself.
MÍTYA. You have no one to blame but yourself for your unhappiness, PelagéyaEgórovna; you are marrying her off yourself, ma'am.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, we are doing it ourselves; we are marrying her off ourselves! Only it's not with my consent, Mítya! If I had my way, do you think I'd give her up? Do you think I'm her enemy?
MÍTYA. He's a man—from what I hear—not a very great catch! There's nothing good to be heard of him—except what's bad.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. I know, Mítya dear, I know.
MÍTYA. Well, from all accounts, I must say this, that most likely Lyubóv Gordéyevna, married to such a man, and living far away from you, will absolutely perish—no doubt of it.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Oh, don't speak of it to me, don't speak of it! I'm distracted enough about it without your saying anything. I've worn my eyes out with gazing at her! If I could only look at her enough to last me forever! It's as if I were getting ready to bury her.
MÍTYA. [Nearly weeping] How can such things happen? How can people do such things? She's your own daughter, I suppose!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. If she weren't my own, then I shouldn't be weeping and wailing, and my heart wouldn't be breaking over her tears.
MÍTYA. Why weep? It would be better not to marry her. Why are you ruining the girl's life, and giving her into slavery? Isn't this a sin? You will have to answer for it to God.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. I know, I know it all, but I tell you, Mítya, it's not my doing. Why do you keep on blaming me? It's horrible enough for me without your talking about it, and you stir me up still more. Mítya, you should pity me!
MÍTYA. It's true, Pelagéya Egórovna, but I can't endure this sorrow. Maybe it's worse for me than for you! I trust you so much, Pelagéya Egórovna, that I will open my heart to you as if you were my own mother. [Dries his eyes with his handkerchief] Yesterday evening, when you were having the evening party. [Tears prevent him from speaking]
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Well, well, tell me, tell me!
MÍTYA. Well, then, she and I made a compact in the dark, that we would go together to you and to Gordéy Kárpych, and beg you humbly; we were going to say: "Give us your blessing; we cannot live without each other any longer." [Dries his tears] And now suddenly, this morning, I heard—and my arms just dropped by my side!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. What are you saying?
MÍTYA. I swear it, Pelagéya Egórovna, in the name of the Lord!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Oh, my dear boy! What a luck-less lad you are, now thatI know all!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA comes in.
The same and LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Here, Lyubóv dear! Mítya has come to say good-by; he is going away from here to his mother's.
MÍTYA. [Bows] Good-by, Lyubóv Gordéyevna! Don't bear me any ill will!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Good-by, Mítya! [Bows]
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Kiss each other good-by; it may be that God will not let you see each other again. Well, never mind! [MÍTYA and LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA kiss each other; she seats herself on the sofa and weeps; MÍTYA also weeps] Stop, stop your weeping! you will drive me wild!
MÍTYA. Oh, I'll risk everything now; everything in the world! [Goes to PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA] Pelagéya Egórovna, are you sorry to marry your daughter to an old man, or not?
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. If I weren't sorry, I shouldn't be crying.
MÍTYA. Will you permit me to speak, Pelagéya Egórovna?
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Speak!
MÍTYA. This is what I have to say: Get her ready and put on her warm clothes. Let her slip out quietly; I'll seat her in my fairy sleigh, and that's the last of us. Then the old man will never see her any more than his own ears! And no matter if I do go to ruin! I will take her to my mother and there we will get married. Oh, just give us a chance! I want some joy in life! At any rate, if I have to pay the price, at least I shall know that I've really lived.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. What do you mean? What do you mean, you scamp?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. What an idea, Mítya!
MÍTYA. So you don't love me? Or have you ceased to love me?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. What you say is dreadful!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. What an idea, you scamp! Who would dare to take such a sin on his soul? Yes, come to your senses! What are you thinking of?
MÍTYA. Why, I said if you're sorry! But if you're not sorry—then give her to Afrikán Savvich; sell her into slavery forever and ever. You'll be miserable yourselves when you see her wretched life; you'll come to your senses, you and Gordéy Kárpych, but then it will be too late.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. But how could you, without her father's blessing? How could you? Judge for yourself!
MÍTYA. Certainly, how could we live without a blessing! Then you bless us, Pelagéya Egórovna. [Kneels down] and Gordéy Kárpych, it may be—himself, in time—somehow—-
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. What can I say to you? I feel altogether distracted.—Yes, I'm going out of my mind! I don't know anything! I don't remember anything! Yes, yes, my head spins. Oh, my darlings, my heart is torn!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA.Goes to MÍTYA] No, Mítya, this can't be! Don't torture yourself for nothing; stop! [Raises him up] Don't tear my soul! Already my heart is all withered away within me! God be with you; good-by!
MÍTYA. Why did you deceive me and mock at me?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Don't, Mítya! Why should I deceive you? Why? I fell in love with you; so I told you, myself. But now we must not go against the will of our parents. For it is the will of my father that I should marry; I must submit to him—that is a girl's lot. It must be that that's the right thing since it was so ordained of old. I don't want to go against my father; I don't wish people to talk about me and make an example of me. Although it may be I have broken my heart because of this—at any rate I know that I am acting according to law; no one will dare to look me in the face and jeer. Good-by! [They kiss]
MÍTYA. Well, now I know my fate! [LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA seats herself on the sofa and weeps] Good-by! [Bows to PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA] Good-by, Pelagéya Egórovna, you have been my benefactress! So long as I live I shall not forget your goodness and kindness to me; you did not forget the orphan in a strange land.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Good-by, my dear; do not blame us in any way—that would be a sin for you. God grant that you may live happily; we shall not forget you. MÍTYAbows and goes out.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA, LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAand laterKÓRSHUNOV.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. How I pity that boy, Lyubóv dear! Oh, my child, oh, dear! It never entered my head that you loved him. How could I guess it, poor old woman that I am! What do I amount to? There, crying is our business, and I haven't any authority over my daughter! But it would be a good idea! I'd enjoy the sight of you in my old age. The boy is such an honest fellow, with such a tender heart, and he would be fond of me in my old age. And as I look at you, my child, how can you help being sad? And I have no way to help you, my darling!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Well, mother, what's the use of thinking about what's impossible, and only torturing ourselves?
Seats herself and is silent; some one knocks; the voice of KÓRSHUNOV is heard,"May I come in?"
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Come in, sir. KÓRSHUNOV. [Entering] Ah, there she is, my bride! Where were you hiding yourself? He, he! I'll find you, I'll find you anywhere. If you please, Pelagéya Egórovna, permit me to talk confidentially with your daughter about our own affairs.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Certainly. [Goes out. KÓRSHUNOV. [Seats himself nearLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA] What are you crying about, young lady? For shame, for shame! He, he, he! There! I'm older than you, and I don't cry. [Looks at her searchingly] Oh, well, I know what it's about! I suppose you want to marry a young fellow? Now, this, my pretty one [takes her hand and kisses it] is just girlish folly. Now, just listen to what I'm going to tell you; I'll tell you the truth straight out. I don't like to deceive any one, and have no need to. Will you listen, eh?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Yes.
KÓRSHUNOV. Good! Now, we'll begin with this point. Will a young man appreciate your love? Any girl will love a young man; that is nothing unusual for him; but to an old man it is precious. An old man will reward you for your love with some little gift, this and that—with gold, and with velvet—and there's nothing he won't give you. [Kisses her hand] And in Moscow there are lots of nice things in the shops; there are things worth giving! So it's nice to fall in love with an old man. That's number one for you! And then this is what happens with a young and good-looking husband. You see they are a fickle lot! Before you know it he will be running after some one else, or some young lady will fall in love with him, and then his wife may pine away. Then come reproaches and jealousy. And what is this jealousy, eh? He, he, he! Do you know, young lady, what this jealousy is?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. No, I don't know.
KÓRSHUNOV. But I know! It isn't like a needle prick in the finger; it's far more painful than that. You see the cursed thing consumes a man. From jealousy people stab one another, and poison one another with arsenic! [Laughs spasmodically and coughs] But when any one falls in love with an old man, then all is peaceful for his wife. And here's something else I will tell you, my dear young lady: Young men like to go on sprees; they like gayety and distraction, and all sorts of dissipations, and their wives may sit at home and wait for them till midnight. And they come home drunk, and bully their wives, and swagger. But an old man will just sit near his wife; he'll die before he'll leave her. And he would like to look into her eyes all the time and to caress her and to kiss her hands. [Kisses them] Just like that.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Did your deceased wife love you?
KÓRSHUNOV. [Looks at her attentively] And why do you ask this, young lady?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. I just wanted to know.
KÓRSHUNOV. You wanted to know? [Rises] No, she didn't love me, and I didn't love her either. She wasn't worth loving—I took her, poor, a beggar, just for her beauty; I took care of her whole family; I saved her father from prison; she went about in gold.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Love cannot be bought with gold.
KÓRSHUNOV. Whether you love a man or not, you ought to show him some regard. They needed money, they had nothing to live on; I gave it to them, I didn't refuse. AndIneeded their love. Had I a right to exact this or not? You see I paid money for it! It's a sin to make complaints about me. Whoever I love has a good living in the world, and if I don't love any one, then he need not reproach me. [He becomes excited and walks about] Yes, I'm that man's enemy; he'd better keep out of my sight! My words and looks, more than my deeds, shall pursue him! I won't give the man room to breathe! I—[Stops and bursts out laughing] And you really thought that I was such a cross man? He, he! I said it in fun, for a joke! I'm a simple, kind old man! I'll dandle you in my arms [hums]; I'll rock you in a little cradle; I'll sing you to sleep. [Kisses her hands.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCHcomes in.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, KÓRSHUNOV, and GORDÉY KÁRPYCH
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Ah, so that's where my son-in-law is! We've been looking for you. We've already started in on the champagne. Come along to the guests; at our house a feast isn't a feast without you.
KÓRSHUNOV. I like it here.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Then we'll order it to be served here, and we'll drink it with you. [Walks to the door] Hey, boy, serve the wine here! On a silver tray! [Sits down] Now, son-in-law, what do you say?
KÓRSHUNOV. Nothing.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. How, nothing?
KÓRSHUNOV. Just nothing.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. But don't you really? [Looks at him] Can you understand me now?
KÓRSHUNOV. Why shouldn't I understand you?
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Now we've had this little spree! So now you tell me, what sort of a man I am. Can they appreciate me here?
KÓRSHUNOV. Why should they appreciate you?
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. No, tell me this: Isn't everything well done here? In other houses a young fellow waits at table in a Russian smock, or there's a peasant girl; but in my house there's a butler in cotton gloves. This butler is a trained man, from Moscow; he knows all the ways of society—where each man should be seated, and what's to be done. But how is it at other people's houses? They collect in one room, they sit down in a ring, and sing peasant songs. Of course it's jolly, but I consider it's vulgar; there's no style about it. And what do they drink in their boorishness? Home-made cordials, all sorts of cherry water! And they don't evenknowthat champagne is the proper thing! Oh, if I could live in Moscow, or in Petersburg, I'd make a point of following every fashion.
KÓRSHUNOV. You don't mean every fashion?
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Every one. As long as my money held out, I wouldn't stint myself. You just look out, Lyubóv; you toe the mark! Or else your bridegroom—you see he's from Moscow—may be ashamed of you. I suppose you don't even know how to walk gracefully, and you don't understand how to talk as is proper in company.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. I say what I feel, father; I wasn't brought up in a boarding-school.
The butler enters, and gives wine to KÓRSHUNOV and GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. He places the bottles on the table, and goes out.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. That's it, son-in-law! Just let them know what sort of manGordéy Kárpych Tortsóv is!
EGÓRUSHKA comes in.
EGÓRUSHKA. Uncle Gordéy Kárpych, come here, if you please.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. What's the matter with you?
EGÓRUSHKA. Come, please: there's such a scene! [Laughs]
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [Approaching] What's the matter?
EGÓRUSHKA. Uncle Lyubím Kárpych has come in.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Why did they let him in?
EGÓRUSHKA. It must be that he just took it into his head; we can't stop him, anyhow. [Bursts out laughing.]
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. What's he doing?
EGÓRUSHKA. He's turning out the guests. [Bursts out laughing] "You're glad to eat another man's bread," says he. "I'm also the host," says he. "I," says he—— [Bursts out laughing.]
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Sh—he's ruined me!
[Goes out with EGÓRUSHKA.]
KÓRSHUNOV. What's all this about?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. I don't know. It must be that uncle is—Sometimes he takes a notion.
EnterRAZLYULYÁYEV, MÁSHA,andLÍZA.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, KÓRSHUNOV, RAZLYULYÁYEV, MÁSHA,andLÍZA.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. [At the door] Where is your brother? Where is LyubímKárpych? What has he done? Oh, misery!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. He isn't here, mother.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNAgoes out.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. There you are! Lyubím Kárpych is playing some famous tricks!Ha, ha, ha! He's cutting up such capers, it beats all!
LÍZA. It isn't at all funny, it's just rude!
MÁSHA. I simply didn't know what to do from embarrassment.
They seat themselves on the sofa.LYUBÍM KÁRPYCHcomes in.
The same andLYUBÍM KÁRPYCH
LÍZA. Oh, good heavens, again!
MÁSHA. This is terrible!
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Ha, ha, ha!
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Gurr, gurr, gurr; bul, bul, bul! With the finger nine! With the cucumber fifteen! How do, friend! [Holds out his hand toKÓRSHUNOV] My respects! I haven't seen you for a thousand years and a day! How are you?
KÓRSHUNOV. Oh, is this you, Lyubím?
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. [Covering his face with his hands] I'm not I, and the horse is not mine, and I'm not a coachman.
KÓRSHUNOV. I remember you, brother! You used to roam the town and pick up kopeks.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. You remember how I used to pick up kopeks, but do you remember how you and I used to go on sprees together? How we sat through the dark autumn nights, and how we skipped back and forth, from the tavern to the wine-shop? And don't you know who ruined me, and who turned me out with a beggar's wallet?
KÓRSHUNOV. Why didn't you look out for yourself? Nobody dragged you in by the collar, my dear fellow. It's your own fault.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. I was a fool! But, well,youhaven't much to be proud of! You raised me to such heights, you promoted me to such a place—I've stolen nothing, and yet I'm ashamed to look men in the eyes!
KÓRSHUNOV. You're the same old joker as ever! [Turning toLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA] You've got a jolly uncle! For old acquaintance sake, we'll surely have to give him a ruble.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Sh! It's not a question of rubles here! Pay up your old debts, and for my niece here a million three hundred thousand! I won't sell her cheaper.
KÓRSHUNOV. [Laughing] Won't you come down?
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Not a kopek!
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Aha, Lyubím Kárpych! Don't you take any less!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCHcomes in.
The same with GORDÉY KÁRPYCH
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. So you are here! What are you doing in my house? Clear out!
KÓRSHUNOV. Wait a bit, Gordéy Kárpych; don't turn him out! Why turn him out? Let him show off and make jokes. He, he, he!
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. It's my brother that's joking, in giving his daughter to you, but I'll play such a joke on you as won't suit your stomach!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. This isn't the place for him. Get out!
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Wait, brother, don't turn me out! Do you think LyubímTortsóv has come to make jokes? Do you think Lyubím Tortsóv is drunk? Ihave come to you to ask riddles. [To KÓRSHUNOV] Why has an ass long ears?Now, then, give us an answer?
RAZLYULYÁYEV. That's a hard one!
KÓRSHUNOV. How do I know?
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. So that all may know that he is an ass. [To his brother]Here's a riddle for you! To whom are you marrying your daughter?
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. That's not your affair! You've no business to ask me.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. And here's another question for you. Are you an honest merchant, or not? If you are honest, don't associate with a dishonest one. You can't touch soot and not be defiled.
KÓRSHUNOV. Joke away—but don't forget yourself, my dear fellow! Turn him out, or make him keep quiet.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. That meant you! One can see you are as clean as a chimney-sweep!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Brother, go away quietly, or it will be the worse for you.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Starting up in a fright] Uncle, stop!
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. I won't be quiet! Now blood has begun to talk!All the domestics and guests enter.
The same with PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA, ANNA IVÁNOVNA, GÚSLIN, guests, and servants.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Listen, good people! They are insulting Lyubím Tortsóv, they are driving him away. But am I not a guest too? Why should they drive me away? My clothes are not clean, but I have a clean conscience! I'm not Kórshunov; I didn't rob the poor, I didn't ruin another's life, I didn't torment my wife with jealousy. Me they drive away, but he's their most esteemed guest, and he's put in the place of honor. Well, never mind! They'll give him another wife. My brother is marrying his daughter to him! Ha, ha, ha! [Laughs tragically]
KÓRSHUNOV. [Jumps up] Don't believe him; he lies! He says this out of spite to me. He's drunk!
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. How out of spite? I pardoned you long ago. I'm a man of small account, a crawling worm, the lowest of the low! But don't you do evil to others.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [To the servants] Take him away!
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. [Holding up one finger] Sh, don't touch me! It's an easy life in this world for a man whose eyes are shameless! Oh, men, men! Lyubím Tortsóv is a drunkard, but he's better than you! Here, now, I'll go away of my own accord. [Turning to the crowd] Make way—Lyubím Tortsóv is going! [Goes, and suddenly turns round] Unnatural monster! [Goes out]
KÓRSHUNOV. [Laughing in a forced way] So that's the way you keep order in your house! That's how you follow the fashions! At your house drunkards insult the guests! He, he, he! "I," says he, "shall go to Moscow; here they don't understand me!" Such fools are almost extinct in Moscow! They laugh at 'em there! "Son-in-law, son-in-law!" He, he, he! "Dear father-in-law!" No, humbug, I won't let myself be insulted for nothing. No, you come along and bow down to me! Beg me to take your daughter!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. You think I'll bow down to you?
KÓRSHUNOV. Yes, you will; I know you! You want a fine wedding. You'd hang yourself if only to astonish the town! But nobody wants her! How unlucky for you! He, he he!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. After you've said such words as these I won't have anything more to do with you! I never bowed down to any one in my life! If it comes to this, I'll marry her to any man I choose. With the money that I shall give as her dowry any man will——MÍTYA comes in, and stops in the doorway.
The same and MÍTYA
MÍTYA. [Turning towards the crowd] What's all this noise?
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Here, I'll marry her to Mítya!
MÍTYA. What, sir?
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Silence! Yes—I'll marry her to Mítya—to-morrow! And I'll give her such a wedding as you never saw! I'll get musicians from Moscow! I'll ride alone in four coaches!
KÓRSHUNOV. We'll see, we'll see! You'll come to ask my pardon, you will! [Goes out.
The same withoutKÓRSHUNOV
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. To whom, Gordéy Kárpych, did you say?
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. To Mítya—Yes! What airs he put on! As if I were worse than he! "You'll come and bow down!" He lies! I won't go and bow down! Just to spite him I'll marry her to Dmitry. [All are astonished. MÍTYA. [TakesLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAby the hand and goes toGORDÉY KÁRPYCH] Why out of spite, Gordéy Kárpych? One does not do such things out of spite. I don't want you to do it out of spite. I'd rather suffer torment all my life. If you are kind enough, then give us your blessing as is proper, in a fatherly fashion, with love. Because we love each other, and even before this happened, we wanted to confess our guilt to you. And now I'll be a true son to you forever, with all my heart.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. What, what, "with all your heart"? You're glad of the chance! But how did you ever dare to think of it? Is she your equal? Remember to whom you're talking.
MÍTYA. I know very well that you are my master, and that I, because of my poverty, cannot be her equal; but however, think as you please. Here I am; I've fallen in love with your daughter with all my heart and soul.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCHcomes in and takes his stand in the crowd.
The same andLYUBÍM KÁRPYCH
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Well, how could you help loving her? Your taste isn't bad! And you'll get plenty of money with her, which is fine for a penniless fellow like you—without a rag to your back!
MÍTYA. It is so insulting for me to hear this from you, that I have no words. Better keep silent. [Walks away] If you please, Lyubóv Gordéyevna, you speak.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Father, I have never gone against your will! If you wish for my happiness, then give me to Mítya.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Why, why, really, Gordéy Kárpych, why do you keep changing your mind so? Why do you? I was beginning to feel happy; my heart was just beginning to feel easy, and now you begin again. Do stick to something; otherwise what does all this mean? Really! First you say to one man, and then to the other! Was she born your daughter just to be a martyr?
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. [From the crowd] Brother, give Lyubóv to Mítya!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. You here again! Do you understand what you've done to me to-day? You've put me to shame before the whole town! If you felt this you wouldn't dare to show yourself in my sight—and then you slink in and give me advice! If it were only a man talking and not you.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. You'd better bow down to Lyubím Tortsóv's feet, just because he has put you to shame.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. That's it, dear Lyubím! We ought to bow down to your feet; that's just it! You have taken a great sin from our souls; all our prayers could never have freed us from this sin.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. What, am I a monster to my own family?
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. You're no monster, but you would have ruined your daughter through your own folly; I tell you this straight out! They marry girls to old men who are a lot better than Afrikán Savvich, and even so they live miserable lives.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Permit me! [Sings] Tum-ty-tum, tum-ty-tum! [Dances] Look at me, here's an example for you! Lyubím Kárpych stands before you large as life! He went along that road, he knows what it is! And I was rich and respected, I drove about in coaches, I played such pranks as would never come into your head; and then head over heels down. Just see what a dandy I am!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. No matter what you say to me, I don't want to listen; you are my enemy for the rest of my life.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Are you a man, or a wild beast? Have pity on Lyubím Tortsóv! [Kneels down] Brother, give Lyubóv to Mítya—he will give me a corner. I was chilled and hungry. I was growing old, and it was hard for me to play the fool in the cold for a piece of bread; at least in one's old age one wants to live decently. You see I've been cheating people, I've been begging alms, and have spent it in drink. They'll give me work, and then I'll have my kettle of soup. Then I'll thank God, brother; even my tears will reach to heaven. What if he is poor, eh? If I had been poor, I should have been a man. Poverty is no crime.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Gordéy Kárpych, haven't you any feelings?
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [Wiping away a tear] And you really thought that I hadn't? [Lifts up his brother] Well, brother, thank you for bringing me back to reason; I almost went out of my mind completely. I don't know how such a rotten notion got into my head. [EmbracesMÍTYAandLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA] Now, children, say thank you to your Uncle Lyubím Kárpych, and live in happiness.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNAembraces the children.
GÚSLIN. Uncle, may I speak now?
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. You may, you may! Ask for whatever you want, every one of you! Now I have become another man.
GÚSLIN. Well, Annushka, it's our turn now!
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Well, now, we'll have a dance; only hold your hat on!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, let's dance, let's dance!
RAZLYULYÁYEV. [Goes toMÍTYAand slaps him on the shoulder] Mítya! For a friend I give up everything! I loved her myself, but for you—I give her up. Give me your hand. [Clasps his hand] That's all—take her; I give her up to you! For a friend I don't regret anything! That's the way we do it when it comes to the point! [Wipes away his tears with the lappet of his coat and kissesMÍTYA] He told the truth then; drunkenness is no crime—well, I mean—poverty is no crime. I always make slips!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Oh, yes, here they all are! [To the girls] Now, then, girls, a jolly song! Yes, a jolly one! Now we'll celebrate the wedding with all our hearts! With all our hearts! [The girls begin to sing.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Sh! Obey orders!He sings; the girls join in."We have done the business;All the trade is driven.The betrothal we will plight,And upon the wedding nightA fine feast shall be given."
VALENTÍN PÁVLYCH BABÁYEV[1],a young landowner
[Footnote 1: womanish]
LEV RODIÓNYCH KRASNÓV,a shopkeeper, about thirty years of age
TATYÁNA DANÍLOVNA (calledTÁNYA),his wife
LUKÉRYA DANÍLOVNA ZHMIGÚLIN (called,LÚSHA),her sister, an old maid and daughter of a government clerk now dead.
ARKHÍP,blind old man, grandfather ofKRASNÓV
AFÓNYA (AFANÁSY),invalid boy about eighteen years of age, brother ofKRASNÓV
MANÚYLO KALÍNYCH KÚRITSYN,flour dealer about forty-five years of age
ULYÁNA RODIÓNOVNA KÚRITSYNA,his wife, sister ofKRASNÓV
SHISHGÁLEV,government clerk
ZÁYCHIKHA (called PROKÓFYEVNA),landlady of the lodgings taken byBABÁYEV
KARP, BABÁYEV'_s attendant
The action takes place in a district town_.
A room, cheaply papered, shabbily furnished; in the rear two doors, one opening on the street, the other leading into an adjoining room; the windows are hung with chintz curtains.
KARP is unfastening a valise, and ZÁYCHIKHA (PROKÓFYEVNA) is looking out of the window.
PROKÓFYEVNA. Just look, dear sir, how many people have gathered.
KARP. What do they want? Why are they curious?
PROKÓFYEVNA. Every one, dear sir, wishes to know who it is that has arrived.
KARP. They say you're provincials, and you certainly are provincials. Well, tell them that it's Babáyev, Valentin Pávlich, a landowner.
PROKÓFYEVNA. [Speaking through the window] Babáyev, a landowner. [ToKARP] They're asking why you came.
KARP. On business, of course. Did you think we came here for sport? Much chance there would be for that here.
PROKÓFYEVNA. [Through the window] For business. [To KARP] Will you remain long?
KARP. We certainly haven't come to settle here. We may stay two days; not longer, you may be sure.
PROKÓFYEVNA. [Through the window] For two days. [Withdraws from the window] Now I've satisfied them. In five minutes the entire city will know.
KARP. Your lodging is all right; it's clean.
PROKÓFYEVNA. Certainly it's clean, sir. No great frills, but it's clean. Of course there's no great travelling to our town.
KARP. It isn't on the highway.
PROKÓFYEVNA. Highway, not much! Yet the best people that do come here, lodge with me. I know a lot of the landowners who come here. They are used to me; very few of them ever go to the hotel.
KARP. Because it's so noisy.
PROKÓFYEVNA. Yes, I should say so! Down-stairs is a bar-room; and on market days the noise is dreadful. Please tell me, wasn't your master's mother Sofya Pavlovna, the wife of General Babáyev?
KARP. Exactly so.
PROKÓFYEVNA. Is their estate called Zavetnoye?
KARP. Yes.
PROKÓFYEVNA. So, so. I recognized him just now. I used to see him as a youngster. He often rode to town with his mother, and they would call on me. Does he live in the country?
KARP. No, we are most of the time in St. Petersburg; but now we have come to the country to arrange business matters.
PROKÓFYEVNA. So, so. But is he a good man to deal with?
KARP. Pretty good.
PROKÓFYEVNA. Well, thank the Lord! May He reward him! What business brought you to our town?
KARP. Oh, those endless legal matters. Petty business, something to bear witness to; but I suppose he'll waste five days over it.
PROKÓFYEVNA. It wouldn't be surprising. Have you called on the judges?
KARP. Yes, we called on them all. Just now they sent us a clerk from court.
PROKÓFYEVNA. They'll probably do it quicker for you than for us. If you need anything, knock on the wall, and I'll come. [Goes out.
BABÁYEVandSHISHGÁLEVenter at the side door.
BABÁYEV, SHISHGÁLEV,andKARP
BABÁYEV. So you say, my dear sir, that it is absolutely impossible?
SHISHGÁLEV. [Bowing and continually blowing his nose and covering his mouth with his hand] But, believe me, sir, if it were at all possible we should have——
BABÁYEV. Maybe it is possible?
SHISHGÁLEV. Judge for yourself, sir. Now the court session has ended, it is quite impossible to assemble the members; to-morrow is a holiday—then comes Saturday and then Sunday.
BABÁYEV. Just think, my dear sir, how you are treating me!
SHISHGÁLEV. How am I to blame? I'm the humblest sort of man.
BABÁYEV. But, my dear sir, what shall I do here for the next four days? It is dreadful!
SHISHGÁLEV. You can look around, sir, and take a glance at our city.
KARP. What's the use of looking at it? What is there to see here? I suppose you'll say that St. Petersburg is not as fine a city as yours.
BABÁYEV. Have you any kind of social life?
SHISHGÁLEV. I beg pardon, sir?
BABÁYEV. I said, have you any social life, any sort of club, entertainment with music, or parties?
SHISHGÁLEV. No, we haven't.
BABÁYEV. But where do the members of the court and the rest of them spend their time?
SHISHGÁLEV. They usually spend it together.
BABÁYEV. How together?
SHISHGÁLEV. Every day is assigned. For instance, to-day they are with the prefect, to-morrow with the judge, day after to-morrow with the attorney; then with the farmer of the spirit tax, and next with the retired police captain—and so all the week goes by.
BABÁYEV. At what time do they meet?
SHISHGÁLEV. About six o'clock.
BABÁYEV. What do they do then?
SHISHGÁLEV. They play preference.
BABÁYEV. And what else, certainly not only preference?
SHISHGÁLEV. That's the truth, just preference. But usually they have tables with drinks and refreshments—just as it should be. They play, and then they take a bite, and so they pass the time.
BABÁYEV. And do they all drink, from six o'clock on?
SHISHGÁLEV. Oh, no, by no means! Only the dealer, or some one who has to pay a fine.
BABÁYEV. Then, my dear sir, I can't help it. I've got to wait.
SHISHGÁLEV. Just wait awhile, sir. On Monday you will please appear in court, and we'll arrange the matter without delay.
BABÁYEV. Very well, I will be in court on Monday. But you'll have some writing to do for me. Then I'll give you—as is proper—I don't like any one to labor for me for nothing.
SHISHGÁLEV. My family is large, Your Honor——
BABÁYEV. What's that?
SHISHGÁLEV. Do have the kindness to bestow a little something——
BABÁYEV. Really, I don't know; how's that? How much do you want?
KARP. Give him one ruble, sir; that'll be enough for him.
BABÁYEV. [Giving the money] Here you are—I'm really ashamed.
SHISHGÁLEV. [Depositing the coin in his pocket] Not at all. I thank you heartily; I wish you all good fortune. [Goes out.
BABÁYEVandKARP
BABÁYEV. How rude you are, Karp.
KARP. If you begin to be sentimental with 'em, sir, they'll get the habit of calling around here and bewailing their fate. No amount of money will suffice 'em. They're a godless crowd.
BABÁYEV. Well, what'll I do? I'd like to go for a walk, but it's still hot.Karp, what shall I do?
KARP. I'll tell you what, go to sleep; after travelling it's a good thing.
BABÁYEV. But what shall I do at night?
KARP. At night just the same. They say people sleep when they're bored.
BABÁYEV. How stupid I was not to bring any books. If I only had some frivolous intrigue to amuse myself with for four days. [Goes out through the side door.]
KARP. So that's what you wish! An intrigue! That's his style! He was his mother's spoiled darling and he was raised with young ladies and in the housemaids' room, and he has a hankering for that kind of thing now. Since I've lived in St. Petersburg with him, what things I have seen; it was shameful! I wonder if he's asleep? I'd like to have a nap. [He's about to lie down when the door opens] Who's that?
LUKÉRYAcomes in.
KARP and LUKÉRYA
KARP. What do you want?
LUKÉRYA. Valentin Pávlich.
KARP. What do you want of him?
LUKÉRYA. If I want to see him, of course it must be necessary.
KARP. Do you want help of some sort?
LUKÉRYA. How rude! Aren't you aware that the Zhmigulin ladies were always welcome at the home of your master's mother? I am also very intimately acquainted with Valentin Pávlich.
KARP. You are? I doubt it.
LUKÉRYA. Maybe you stupidly misunderstand my words in some way that's beyond me. [Sits down] Your business is to go right off and announce me.
KARP. I tell you he's asleep now.
LUKÉRYA. That can't be, because I've just seen him through the window.
KARP. Well, I see I can't do anything with you; I'll have to announce you. [Goes out.]
LUKÉRYA. In these modern times, these new changes have done a lot to spoil people. He ought to have found out first what my rank was, and then treated me accordingly. And it's not his business whether I came to ask for aid or not. To be sure, people of our station are often engaged in that, but not all. Maybe Valentin Pávlich has become so proud since he has lived in St. Petersburg that he will not wish to see me. But I'm so anxious to show every one here what acquaintances we have. I think he didn't disdain us formerly, especially sister Tánya.
BABÁYEV comes in.
BABÁYEV and LUKÉRYA
BABÁYEV. Whom have I the honor of addressing?
LUKÉRYA. I hardly expected, Valentin Pávlich, that you would so soon forget old acquaintances.
BABÁYEV. Be seated, please. [Both sit down] I somehow do not recall.
LUKÉRYA. Of course, nowadays feelings are not in vogue; now it's all a matter of calculation; but we provincials aren't like you in St. Petersburg; we remember our former acquaintances, and especially our benefactors.
BABÁYEV. I agree with you—benefactors should always be remembered.
LUKÉRYA. We are so indebted to your mother that words fail me to express it. She did so much for the Zhmigulin family.
BABÁYEV. The Zhmigulins?
LUKÉRYA. Especially for sister Tánya and me.
BABÁYEV. [Rising] Tánya—Tatyána Danílovna?
LUKÉRYA. Do you remember, now?
BABÁYEV. So you are her sister?
LUKÉRYA. Lukérya Danílovna Zhmigulin.
BABÁYEV. Pardon me, I beg of you.
LUKÉRYA. I'm not in the least offended because you remember my sister more readily than you do me. She's so beautiful that it's impossible to forget her.
BABÁYEV. Yes, yes, she was an exceedingly beautiful girl; we were great friends.
LUKÉRYA. I'm aware of that. Who should know it if not I? Being the elder sister I had to care for the younger.
BABÁYEV. Yes, yes, to be sure. Tell me, if you please, where is she now?What is she doing?
LUKÉRYA. She's here in the city, married.
BABÁYEV. Married? Does she live happily?
LUKÉRYA. Judge for yourself. She lives in poverty among stupid, ignorant people. It isn't as it was in your mother's house at Zavetnoye. That was an earthly paradise! Your mother was the kindest of ladies, and liked to have everybody happy at her house. There were always lots of young ladies in her house, and likewise young gentlemen, and they played games from morning till night. She made even the chambermaids play tag with us and other games, and she looked on and enjoyed it.
BABÁYEV. Yes, yes, it was but a short time ago. It's no more than three years since I left for St. Petersburg.
LUKÉRYA. I remember it very well. You left three years ago last carnival time. Your mother didn't like any of her guests to be moody or to read books. She would say: "Why, you're spoiling everybody's spirits." Every one was madly gay for her sake, but in the midst of all that gayety anybody who had a keen eye could see quite a little.
BABÁYEV. Nothing more natural! Men, girls, and young ladies continually together—of course they couldn't help falling in love.
LUKÉRYA. You were especially strong in that line. You were continually withTánya, and you never left her, so they called you the "doves."
BABÁYEV. One's heart's not a stone, Lukérya Danílovna. Even you yourself—do you remember the surveyor?
LUKÉRYA. He isn't worth remembering. Later on he behaved in a very ungentlemanly way to me. But fate has punished him for his lack of courtesy towards a girl of noble birth. He's now in jail for being drunk and disorderly.
BABÁYEV. Kindly tell me how it happened that your sister married?
LUKÉRYA. When your mamma died last summer we had absolutely no one left to help us. Our papa in his old age was of no account in the city. He was a timid man, and so he didn't get on well. Our father was a clerk in the Chancery Office, and he received a salary of thirty rubles a year. How could we live on such a sum? And yet we saw something of society. At first we were hardly ever at home, and your mamma aided us in many ways. Suddenly all that stopped, and soon our father died. At that time Tánya received an offer from—I'm almost ashamed to tell you.
BABÁYEV. Why, what are you ashamed of?
LUKÉRYA. You are receiving me so graciously, and your interest in my sister makes me feel that our actions have been very uncivil.
BABÁYEV. That can't be helped. Probably it was all due to circumstances.What are you to blame for?
LUKÉRYA. You can hardly imagine the degree of embarrassment this relationship causes me. In a word, our circumstances were such that she was forced to marry a petty shopkeeper.
BABÁYEV. A petty shopkeeper? What kind of shop has he?
LUKÉRYA. A vegetable shop. You can see it from here, the sign reads, "LevKrasnóv."
BABÁYEV. Yes, I noticed it. Is he a good man?
LUKÉRYA. Considering the type, he's a very nice man, and he loves sister very dearly. Yet there is something so inherently bad about his calling that, judge as you will, he's still not very far removed from a peasant. That trait of character, if you boil a man for seven years in a kettle, you cannot boil out. Yet I must give him credit for taking good care of his house. He doesn't give himself any rest day or night; he toils hard all the time. As for my sister, he's willing to give her whatever her heart desires, even his last kopek, just to please her, so that she does absolutely nothing, and lives like a lady. But his manners are boorish, and his conversation embarrasses us very much. Altogether this is not the kind of happiness I wished for Tánya. Judging by her beauty and the standing of her former admirers, she should now be riding in a carriage. As it is, necessity has forced her to marry a peasant, almost for a crust of bread, and to blush for him whenever she sees anybody.
BABÁYEV. So Tatyána Danílovna has married—I'm sorry.
LUKÉRYA. You needn't feel sorry. She's no match for you.
BABÁYEV. Of course.—Here I am in this city, and owing to circumstances I'm forced to remain at least four days, and maybe more. What am I going to do? I'm very much pleased that you have called on me. If it hadn't been for you I don't know what I should have done with myself. Now, just imagine, if your sister weren't married, we'd spend these four days so that we shouldn't know how the time was passing. [Takes her by the hand] Isn't that true?
LUKÉRYA. Who's keeping you from that now?
BABÁYEV. Well, you see it's awkward; being married, what will her husband think? It's really provoking.
LUKÉRYA. You don't mean it! It seems to me that you used to have different opinions on such things. You weren't so anxious to know what pleased the husbands and what didn't.
BABÁYEV. Yes, but that was in an entirely different social circle. There manners are much more free.
LUKÉRYA. How do you know whether my sister has freedom or hasn't?
BABÁYEV. [Taking both her hands] At all events, I'm so glad, so thankful to you for furnishing me with diversion when I was bored. Don't you want something? Be good enough to make yourself at home; everything is at your service. Will you have some tea?
LUKÉRYA. Thank you, I've just had tea. But I must hurry home now. I have to attend to some matters with sister. Shall I extend her your greetings?
BABÁYEV. Please be so kind.
LUKÉRYA. [Going to the door] Why don't you invite sister and me to call on you?
BABÁYEV. I should be so happy to have you, only I really don't know how to arrange it. I should like very much to see Tatyána Danílovna.
LUKÉRYA. If you wish to see her, then where's the obstacle? She isn't a princess imprisoned behind ten locks. You'll go for a walk, no doubt, as you can't remain in your room?
BABÁYEV. I should like to go, but I hardly know in what direction.
LUKÉRYA. You needn't go far. Stroll out of the rear gate to the river-bank, sit down on the bench and enjoy the beauty of nature. It's a quiet, secluded place; few people ever go there. It's a most delightful walk for sentimental young people. Sister and I will go that way, and there you may be able to see her. Good day! [She goes out.
BABÁYEV. What a surprise! Could I have expected such good fortune? Little Tánya, little Tánya! I shall see her again! I'll go mad with joy. She was so charming, so delicate. Some people said that she didn't have much sense, but is that a fault in a woman? And then her beauty, her beauty! It's likely that instead of four days I'll stay four weeks. [Goes out.
The bank of a river; at one side a fence and gate, at the other a corner of a barn; beyond the river stretches the countryside; sunset.
EnterARKHÍPandAFÓNYA
AFÓNYA. Grandfather, let's rest here awhile. I feel ill to-day. Sit down here, on the bench.
ARKHÍP. Very well, Afónya, we'll sit down here. You and I are unfortunate: age is overcoming me and sickness you.
AFÓNYA. I'm not ailing. I was born so. Grandfather, I shan't live long in this bright world.
ARKHÍP. Don't listen to old wives' tales. No one knows what fate awaits him.
AFÓNYA. What do I care for old wives! I know that I shall not live long. My appetite is failing. Others have such hearty appetites after working. They eat a whole lot and want more. There's brother Lev, when he's tired—just keep giving him food. But I don't care if I never eat at all. My soul won't take anything. I just swallow a crust—and am satisfied.
ARKHÍP. That helps growth.
AFÓNYA. No, it doesn't. Why should I grow any more, anyhow! As it is, I am tall for my age. But it's a sign that I shall not live. Just listen, grandfather; a man who is alive thinks of living things, but I don't have any interest in anything. Some people like nice clothes, but for me it's all the same—whatever rag is near at hand—just so I'm warm. For instance, all the boys have some hobby; some like fishing, others games, some sing songs; but nothing attracts me. While others are happy I feel depressed. Misery seems to grip my heart.
ARKHÍP. That is God's gift to you. From your childhood you have had no love for this vain world. Some lose their faint-heartedness with years, when woes and afflictions, Afónya, crush and grind a man into powder; but you have never lived, have not yet tasted the world's sorrows or joys, and yet you reason like an old man. Thank God that he has made you wise. The world does not charm you: you do not know temptation, so your sins are less. That is your good fortune. Just listen to me. I, Afónya, have known temptation and have not always turned aside from it, and most often I sought temptation of my own free will. You say everything seems the same to you, that nothing in the world delights you; but to me God's world was good and bright. Everything beckoned and charmed me. An unsated eye and free will command one to taste all the pleasures of the universe. But in the world, Afónya, good and evil go hand in hand. Well, one's sins may be more in number than the sands of the sea. Luckily God prolonged my life, that I might repent, and did not strike me down in my sins. We repent and humble ourselves and hope for mercy; but you will have nothing to repent of; you, Afónya, are a man of God.
AFÓNYA. No, grandfather, no, do not speak so. How am I a man of God? I have seen men of God, but they are good and do not remember evil. They are abused and mocked, but they laugh at it, while I am rough and harsh, just like my brother; only brother is forgiving though quick-tempered, while I am not. I, grandfather, I have an evil temper.
ARKHÍP. At whom should you be angry, my child; who injures you?
AFÓNYA. No one injures me, but my heart aches for every one—for you, for brother, for all of you.
ARKHÍP. Why are you grieving for us? We have nothing to complain of.
AFÓNYA. We didn't have anything to complain of, grandfather, before brother married. Grandfather, why does brother love his wife so?
ARKHÍP. Why shouldn't he love her? Why did he marry her? You should be happy because he loves his wife. What a foolish fellow you are!
AFÓNYA. No, I speak the truth. Formerly brother used to love you and me much more than now.
ARKHÍP. So you are jealous! Probably you are envious.
AFÓNYA. No, it isn't envy; but is my brother blind? Does she love him as he does her? Is she worthy of him? Why is he so servile in the presence of her and her kin? His servility offends me. Is he inferior to her and her sister? One marries a wife to have a helper; but she sits with folded hands. Brother alone works and dances attendance on them. I pity him.
ARKHÍP. What business is it of yours? It's his own choice. He works and doesn't force you to. You and I are fed by his kindness.
AFÓNYA. Don't I know that? Tell me, grandfather, is she any better than brother or not?
ARKHÍP. Better or not, she is of different sort.
AFÓNYA. What do you mean by "different sort"! As it is, brother is obliged to work for them, feed and clothe them, while they give themselves airs. There isn't a better man in the world than brother, and they have made him their drudge.
ARKHÍP. How do you know? Your brother himself may not wish her to work.
AFÓNYA. But if she doesn't work then she'd better not put on airs. Since she married a commoner she should be one like the rest of us. Are we a sort of accursed people? Lord, pardon me for saying it! We too have our communal society and we pay taxes and take part in other obligations. My brother gets money by sweat and toil, and contributes it to the community. She might stay at home and play the lady, but if she marries, then she should know that there is one master in the house—her husband. You see, grandfather, I see and hear everything, since they are so shameless as not to pay any heed to me. Brother gives her kerchiefs and silk dresses, while she and her sister laugh at him and call him a fool. I hear it all; it is bitter to me, grandfather, bitter. I began to speak to brother about it, but he scolded me. [Pause] Grandfather, that is why I can't sleep. What I see by day appears to me at night, gnaws at my heart, and I weep all night. I shan't live long. My health cannot improve now because my temper is altogether too violent. If God would only take me quickly so that I should have less suffering!