Picture III.[14]

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Paul.Serafìma,his wife.Madame Prèzhnev.A Person Unknown,a friend of Paul, middle-aged, with Greek profile and gloomy expression of face.A Maid-servant.A Footman.

Paul.

Serafìma,his wife.

Madame Prèzhnev.

A Person Unknown,a friend of Paul, middle-aged, with Greek profile and gloomy expression of face.

A Maid-servant.

A Footman.

(A richly-furnished study.Paulsits at the table writing. EnterFootman.)

Foot.Pàvel Petròvich, the tailor and carriage-builder are waiting.

Paul(turning round). Send them off!

Foot.They won’t go, sir.

Paul.Then tell them to come next week.

Foot.I told them; but they won’t go.

Paul.You surely don’t expect me to come out and speak to them myself? Tell them anything you like. You see I’m busy. You’re always disturbing me; be off with you!

Foot.There’s a gentleman that asks to see you too, sir.

Paul.Turn him out too.

(The person unknown comes in at the door. TheFootmansees him, and exit.)

Unknown.Turn Nature out at the door, she’ll come in at the window.

Paul(rises). Oh! my dear fellow! I didn’t know it was you; I really beg your pardon.

Unknown.No; you didn’t know. (Inspects Paul from head to foot; then begins examining the room.)

Paul.Indeed I didn’t know. You don’t suppose I should have refused to see you?

Unknown(sits down). There, that’ll do, that’ll do.

Paul.Won’t you have a cigar?

Unknown(smiling ironically). A cigar? And when am I to have the money?

Paul.Very soon now.

Unknown.Which do you mean by that—now? or very soon?

Paul.Soon; quite soon.

Unknown.You’ll pay it soon? (Looks intently atPaul.) And supposing I don’t believe you?

Paul.How can you help believing, when the document is in your hands?

Unknown.That’s just it! The date in the document is up; and all this is not yours, but your wife’s.

Paul.That’s all the same.

Unknown.No; not all the same.

Paul.Well, then, what do you want?

Unknown.I’ll tell you. Either you give me all the money to-morrow, or else we’ll re-write the document.

Paul.Certainly. We’ll re-write it now if you like.

Unknown. No; we’ll re-write it to-morrow; only then your wife must sign her name as security.

Paul.What for?

Unknown.Oh! well, the broker will know what for; otherwise I shall simply go to law. (Rises.)

Paul.All right; all right.

Unknown.Mind, then, to-morrow. (Goes to door.) You’re not thinking of getting out of it anyway, are you? You can’t do that with me. (Exit.)

Paul.This sort of thing is really quite annoying! Here I am, as rich as you please, and yet I can’t get any money. I shall have to ask my wife for it; it’s all the same now whether the money is hers or mine; we have everything incommon. It’s even better that it should be in my hands. And what is the use of my putting it off so long? I only get more and more entangled.

(EnterSerafìma.Paulwrites.)

Serafima.Leave off, Paul! Don’t write! (Embraces him. He leaves off writing.) I am so happy! so happy! What have I done to deserve such happiness! (Meditates.) I have abundance of everything; I have such a dear husband! (Kisses him.) So handsome! so clever! only one thing distresses me: you are out so much. Now that we are married, you ought to be always with me; I believe I should love you still more then.

Paul.It’s impossible, my love; I have the office.

Serafima.Are you going to-day?

Paul.Yes; it’s time for me to start now.

Serafima.Take me with you.

Paul.Where? To the Senate House?

Serafima.Yes; why not?

Paul.What things you say! How could I?

Serafima.It’s always, “I can’t” with you! You simply don’t love me; that’s why you don’t want to take me. If you loved me, you’d take me! You’d say to every one, “This is my wife.” You’ll never have cause to be ashamed of me; I was educated at a boarding-school.

Paul.If you don’t believe me, ask any one you like whether men take their wives to Government offices.

Serafima.They don’t take us because they don’t love us; they would take us if they did. If you men loved us as we love you, you’d fulfil every whim we have. We’re ready to do everything in the world for you; and you don’t care to do the merest trifle for us.

Paul.I, too, am willing to do anything you ask; only this is impossible.

Serafima.Well then, at least do me one kindness: don’t go to-day; stop with me.

Paul(shrugs his shoulders). All right, if you like!

Serafima.No! Do you really mean you won’t go?

Paul.I won’t go, if you wish me not to.

Serafima.Dear Paul! How good you are! How you spoil me! What is there in the world I wouldn’t do for you! Now tell me—tell me what you would like! you must tell me! (Caresses him.) Ask me for anything you like—anything—anything in the world! Come now, tell me what you would like; I’ll drive straight into town and buy it for you.

(EnterMaid-servant.)

Maid.If you please, ma’am, the dressmaker has come.

Serafima.Paul, dear Paul! I will come back in a minute. (Exit.)

Paul.What extraordinary fancies she has sometimes! I really can’t make out whether it’s from stupidity or from love for me. For that matter, it’s a very good thing that she’s so much in love with me. The idea of her asking me what I want! What I want? Why, money, of course. It seems it’s quite a true saying that women’s hearts are much tenderer than ours. I confess I used not to believe that; but now I see that, once love has taken a firm hold upon them, you can get anything you like out of them.... And then, she’s so pretty! Even if you look at it from quite another point of view—it’s delightful, there certainly is nothing else to be said about it.... I’d better ask her for a big sum at once; I must take advantage of her momentary exaltation. (Re-enterSerafìma.) Ah! Serafima! I wanted to speak to you.

Serafima.And I wanted to speak to you,Paul.

Paul.Very well; what is it?

Serafima.No, you speak first.

Paul.No, you, Serafima.

Serafima.No, you.

Paul.I give the precedence to you, as a lady, Serafima.

Serafima.This is what I wanted to say, my Paul: you change your shirt every day; that is rather extravagant.

Paul.Are you gone off your head! You can’t call that an extravagance, in our position! No; I wanted to talk to you about something altogether different.

Serafima.All the same, my dear (kisses him), we must think about economy; there’s nothing unreasonable in that.

Paul.Forgive me, Serafima! I understand you, my love; indeed it is a good thing that you are economical in trifles. Trifles are an important matter in life. I am glad that I have found in you such a housewife. But I want to speak to you about more serious business.

Serafima.About what, Paul? No, no, stop! Why should we talk about business? We haven’t done talking about love, yet. We have nothing to do, now, as you didn’t go to the office. Why should we talk about business? Let us talk about love! (Sighs, and raises eyes to heaven.)

Paul.We can talk about love afterwards, whenever you like; but I must speak about business now.

Serafima.Ah! Paul! you have stayed at home with me. Indeed I don’t want to think of anything else now!

Paul.No, Serafima; I really must have a serious talk with you.

Serafima(a little offended). Well, what is it you want?

Paul.How do you wish to employ your capital?

Serafima.What a question! I don’t want to employ it anyhow. It can stop in the Council,[15]and we’ll live on the interest.

Paul.But the interest is very little, my love; we had better put the capital into circulation.

Serafima.Into what circulation?

Paul.We might buy an estate, for instance.

Serafima.No, no, no! Not for the world! What estate?

Paul.Why, a village in some good fertile province—Orèl, or somewhere there.

Serafima.Not for anything on earth! The peasants won’t pay; the village may burn down; or the crops will fail five years running; what should we do then?

Paul.Crops don’t fail five years running.

Serafima.But they may do; you’re not a prophet, you know.

Paul.Well then, let’s buy a house and put in tenants.

Serafima.But the tenants won’t pay.

Paul.How do you mean, they won’t pay? One can prosecute if they don’t.

Serafima.And if the house burns down?

Paul.We must insure it.

Serafima.Then invaders will come and destroy everything! No, no, not for the world!

Paul.Well, well, we won’t talk any more about it.

Serafima.Think of it yourself; you’re a young man still; we may have children.

Paul.Of course we shall have children; but what of that? The more money we get, the more there will be for the children.

Serafima.No, no; I don’t want even to hear about it, or I shall only get miserable; you musn’t put me out. What’s the use of circulation? We can live as we are; we have enough of everything. (Meditates.) You are free to-day; you haven’t gone to the office.... (Embraces him.)

Paul(detaching himself from her arms). No, Serafima; as you like, but I must have a talk with you.

Serafima(seriously). What now?

Paul.This, my dear: if you really love me, give me five thousand silver roubles. I need the money pressingly for a certain business. It is a very profitable business, Serafima;I won’t tell you what it is now; but we may get the amount doubled, or perhaps even more. Indeed, I am almost sure that it will be more.

SERAFIMA: “FIVE—THOUSAND—SILVER—ROUBLES! HOW MUCH WILL THAT BE IN PAPER MONEY?”PAUL: “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?”

Serafima.Five—thousand—silver—roubles! How much will that be in paper money?

Paul.How should I know?

Serafima.Stop; I’ll calculate it. (Takes paper and pencil out of pocket and calculates.) Ah! ah! (Rushes away.)

Paul.What can be the matter now? What’s frightened her? I can’t make it out! Does she suppose I’m going to spend all my life in making love? That’s a good idea! Is she miserly? or what is it? I must find out which she loves best—me or money. If she loves me best, the matter can be set right. But if she loves the money best, I’ve run my neck into a halter.

(EnterMadame Prèzhnev.)

Madame P.Bonjour, Paul!

Paul.Bonjour, Maman!

Madame P.(sits down). I’ve just been into your wife’s room. What is the matter with her? She’s crying, and getting ready to go out.

Paul.We’ve had a little scene.

Madame P.Oh, Paul! already? So soon after the wedding! Did you do anything to hurt her feelings? Woman is such a frail and tender creature.

Paul.Why the devil should I hurt her feelings? I only asked her for money.

Madame P.Were you gentle enough with her?

Paul.Why, dear me, I’ve been spooning with her a whole month, like a turtle-dove. (Bursts out laughing.) I never once asked her for money till just now. First of all, she got as sentimental as you please: “Ask anything you like; I’ll do anything in the world for you; I’ll go straight to town and buy whatever you want.” What should she buy me?—a china poodle? or a hussar in sugar? Well, directly I asked her for five thousand, she just screamed and ran away ... and now she’s in tears! The deuce knows what to make of it!

Madame P.She has no heart, my dear. Women areready to give up everything on earth for the man they love. No, my Paul, she is no woman.

Paul.Oh, she’s a woman all right enough; only she won’t give the money.

Madame P.Oh, Paul! I am convinced that she will appreciate you in time, and will come to love you so much, so much (with enthusiasm) that she will entirely give into your keeping both herself and—and all her possessions.

Paul.Yes; but she hasn’t done it yet; and I can’t wait.

Madame P.Wait a little, Paul! Think what bliss awaits you in the future. (EnterMaid-servantand givesPaulletter and pocket-book.)

Paul.What is that?

Maid.Madame has gone away in the carriage, and told me to give you these. (Exit.)

Paul.A pocket-book! That’s good! (Puts it in pocket.)

Madame P.I told you so!

Paul.Now let’s read the letter. (Reads.) “Dear Paul—Much as I love you, we must separate. My heart will bleed all my life; and I shall weep for you day and night. I wish to go and live with my papa, like a prisoner, and bewail my fate; and I shall sell this house. You will never see me any more. I love you with all my soul; but you showed me to-day that you love me for my money’s sake. In our merchant class, it is not the custom to give away one’s money. Of what significance shall I be, if I have no money? I shall be of no importance at all! If I have no money, and I love a man, he will not love me. But if I have money, and I love any one, he will love me, and we shall be happy. I made a pocket-book for your birthday, and embroidered it myself, and as I hoped that a present from me would be a great pleasure to you, I send it to you now. Don’t ever come to my papa’s house; he is verypassionate, and will be very angry with you when he knows all about it; and I cannot conceal anything. Farewell, Paul! When you are in need of money I shall always be glad to give you help without letting my relatives know; but only small sums—a hundred roubles, not more. Be happy. I shall pass all my life in tears. Yours for ever,Serafìma.” What in the world is this? It’s so extraordinary that I can’t even believe it. I expect she’s joking, or wants to frighten me. Let’s see, though, what there is in this pocket-book. I daresay there’s something in it. (Takes out pocket-book.)

Madame P.I am almost sure of it, Paul. No doubt she wanted to give you a surprise.

Paul.It’s a charming little pocket-book. (Opens and examines it.) Empty!

Madame P.Look; perhaps there’s a secret compartment.

Paul.Here’s the secret compartment, but there’s nothing in it either. (EnterFootman.) What do you want?

Foot.Sir, sir, I never heard of such a thing! They’ve taken away the fur cloak!

Paul.What fur cloak?

Foot.Yours, sir! Madame told us to put it in the carriage with her, and took it away. Anyoùtka and I held out as long as we could; but what could we do? I really don’t know what to think of it!

Paul.Mamma, that’s more than a joke.

Foot.It’s a disgrace, sir! I’ve been in service for many years (clasps his hands), but I never saw such a thing, never! Paul Petròvich! Think of it!

Paul.There, get along with you!

Foot.And to have to say such a thing to people! It’s enough to make one die for shame. I never heard of such a thing,never! (Exit.)

Paul.(Sits down and looks fixedly at his mother).Maman!

Madame P.Women have no hearts nowadays, no hearts at all.

Paul.Permit me,Maman, to thank you, now, for two things: firstly, for squandering my fortune; and, secondly, for bringing me up in such a way that I am fit for nothing. I only know how to spend money. And where is the money to spend? Where? (Passionately.) Where is the money? Give it to me! You liked to see me, at eight years old, in a velvet tunic, dancing better than all the other children in Moscow, and knowing how to make love to the little girls. You liked to see me at sixteen, looking so well on horseback! You looked on proudly when I used to gallop about our ancestral fields with my tutor, your favourite! You enjoyed all that. After such an education, one must have money, if one would play a leading part in our society. Why did you squander everything? Where are our estates gone? Where are our peasants gone? What is to become of us now? Now, perhaps, you will have the pleasure of seeing me dismissed from the service, a vagrant, a card-sharper, and maybe even worse! What am I to do? I can’t marry again, with a wife living! (Covers his face with his hands.)

Curtain Falls.

Back to Index Next