Читать книгу Without a dowry / Бесприданница. Книга для чтения на английском языке - Александр Островский, Александр Николаевич Островский - Страница 3

The action takes place in the present [1878], in the large town of Bryakhimov[1] on the Volga.

A boulevard on the high bank of the Volga, with an open area in front of a coffee house. On the right of the actors is an entrance to the coffee house. On their left are trees. In the background is a low iron railing, beyond it a sweeping view of the Volga with its forests, villages, etc. In front of the coffee house are tables and chairs: one table on the right, close to the coffee house, another on the left.

Gavrilo is standing in the doorway of the coffee house. Ivan is tidying up the furniture.

Ivan. Not a soul on the boulevard.

Gavrilo. It’s always like that on holidays. We keep to the old ways here. After late mass everybody puts away meat pie and cabbage soup, then they treat their guests with hospitality, and after that it’s seven hours of rest.

Ivan. What do you mean, seven! More like three or four. Anyway, it’s a good custom.

Gavrilo. And then about vesper time they wake up and drink tea till they’re bored stiff.

Ivan. Bored stiff! What’s there to be bored about?

Gavrilo. You just sit down by the samovar and drink boiling hot tea a couple of hours, then you’ll find out. A man gets all covered over with sweat, and he starts to get bored… So that’s when he says good-bye to his tea and drags himself out on the boulevard for some fresh air and a walk. This is the time when the high-class folk take their walk; look, over there you can see Moky Parmenych Knurov, stretching his legs.

Ivan. Every morning he paces back and forth on the boulevard, as if he’d made a vow. Why does he go to so much trouble?

Gavrilo. For the exercise.

Ivan. But what’s the exercise for?

Gavrilo. To work up an appetite. He needs the appetite for dinner. You should see the dinners he has! Do you think he could eat dinners like that without exercise?

Ivan. Why is he so quiet all the time?

Gavrilo. “Quiet”! You’re really something. How can you expect him to go on carrying conversations when he has all those millions! Who’s he supposed to talk with? There’s only two or three people in town he can talk with, so he keeps quiet. And that’s why he doesn’t stay here very long, wouldn’t stay at all if he didn’t have business. For talking he goes to Moscow, to St. Petersburg, and abroad too; he has more elbow room there.

Ivan. There comes Vasily Danilych from over the hill. He’s rich too, but he talks a lot.

Gavrilo. Vasily Danilych is still young, still on the timid side, but when he gets older he’ll act like God too.

Knurov enters from the left and, not paying any attention to the bows of Gavrilo and Ivan, sits down at a table, takes out a French newspaper from his pocket, and reads it. Vozhevatov enters from the right.

Vozhevatov (bowing respectfully). Moky Parmenych, I have the honor of greeting you!

Knurov. Ah, Vasily Danilych! (He holds out a hand.) Where did you come from?

Vozhevatov. From the dock. (He sits down.)

Gavrilo comes closer.

Knurov. Were you meeting somebody?

Vozhevatov. I was supposed to but didn’t. I had a telegram yesterday from Sergey Sergeyich Paratov. I’m buying a steamboat from him.

Gavrilo. It’s not the Swallow, Vasily Danilych?

Vozhevatov. Yes, it’s the Swallow. What about it?

Gavrilo. It goes fast, it’s a strong boat.

Vozhevatov. But Sergey Sergeyich let me down, he didn’t come.

Gavrilo. You were expecting him to come on the Flier, but maybe he’ll come on his own boat, the Swallow.

Ivan. Vasily Danilych, there’s another boat coming down the river.

Vozhevatov. A lot of boats sail the Volga.

Ivan. That’s Sergey Sergeyich coming.

Vozhevatov. You think so?

Ivan. It looks like him, sir. The paddle boxes on the Swallow stand out a lot.

Vozhevatov. That means you’d be making out paddle boxes at five miles.

Ivan. I can make them out at seven miles, sir… And it’s coming fast, it’s clear the owner’s with it.

Vozhevatov. And how far is it?

Ivan. It’s come out from behind the island. It’s making a lot of headway, a lot.

Gavrilo. You say it’s making a lot of headway?

Ivan. A lot. An awful lot! It runs faster than the Flier, they’ve timed it.

Gavrilo. It’s him, sir.

Vozhevatov (to Ivan). You tell us when they start coming aside.

Ivan. Yes, sir. I suppose they’ll shoot from the cannon.

Gavrilo. They’re sure to.

Vozhevatov. What cannon?

Gavrilo. He has his own barges anchored in the middle of the Volga.

Vozhevatov. I know.

Gavrilo. One barge has a cannon. Whenever somebody meets Sergey Sergeyich or sees him off they always fire a salute. (Looking beyond the coffee house.) There’s one of Chirkov’s carriages going for him now, sir. They must have let Chirkov know he’d be coming, for Chirkov himself is on the box. That’s him they’re going for, sir.

Vozhevatov. But how do you know it’s for him?

Gavrilo. They’ve got four pacers lined up, it’s really for him. Who else would Chirkov make up four horses for? It’s even scary to look at them… they’re like lions… all four with snaffle bits! And the harness, the harness! They’re going for him, sir.

Ivan. And there’s a gypsy sitting on the box with Chirkov, he has a fancy Cossack coat on, and his belt’s so tight he could snap in two.

Gavrilo. They’re going after him, sir. It couldn’t be anyone else with four horses like those. It’s him, sir.

Knurov. Paratov lives in style.

Vozhevatov. Whatever else, he has plenty of style.

Knurov. Are you buying the boat cheap?

Vozhevatov. Cheap, Moky Parmenych.

Knurov. Yes, of course; otherwise, what’s the advantage of buying? Why is he selling it?

Vozhevatov. I suppose he doesn’t find any profit in it.

Knurov. Of course, how could he! That’s no business for a gentleman. But you’ll make a profit, especially if you buy it cheap.

Vozhevatov. It suits our purpose; we have a lot of cargo down the river.

Knurov. Maybe he needs the money… he’s a great spender, you know.

Vozhevatov. That’s his business. We have the money ready.

Knurov. Yes, with money a man can do business. (With a smile.) A man who has a lot of money, Vasily Danilych, that man’s in good shape.

Vozhevatov. How could he be in bad shape! You yourself know that better than any one, Moky Parmenych.

Knurov. I know it, I know it.

Vozhevatov. Moky Parmenych, couldn’t we have a cool drink?

Knurov. What do you mean, it’s still morning! I haven’t eaten yet.

Vozhevatov. That doesn’t matter, sir. There was an Englishman, a factory director, and he told me that if a man has a cold it’s a good idea to drink champagne on an empty stomach. And yesterday I caught a little cold.

Knurov. How could you do that? We’re having such warm weather now.

Vozhevatov. I caught cold from the drink itself; they served it up very cold.

Knurov. No, what’s the good of that? People will see us, and they’ll say: it’s hardly morning yet, and they’re drinking champagne.

Vozhevatov. But so people won’t say something bad, we’ll drink tea.

Knurov. Tea, that’s another matter.

Vozhevatov (to Gavrilo). Gavrilo, bring us some of my tea, you understand?… Mine!

Gavrilo. Yes, sir. (He goes off.)

Knurov. Do you drink a special kind?

Vozhevatov. It’s really champagne, but he’ll pour it into teapots and serve it in tea glasses with saucers.

Knurov. That’s smart.

Vozhevatov. Necessity is the mother of invention, Moky Parmenych.

Knurov. Are you going to Paris, to the exposition?

Vozhevatov. After I’ve bought the boat and sent it down the river for cargo, then I’ll go.

Knurov. Me too one of these days. I already have somebody waiting for me there.

Gavrilo brings a tray with two teapots containing champagne and two glasses.

Vozhevatov (pouring). Have you heard the news, Moky Parmenych? Larisa Dmitriyevna is getting married.

Knurov. Getting married! You can’t mean it! Who to?

Vozhevatov. Karandyshov.

Knurov. What kind of nonsense is that! It’s insanity! What’s Karandyshov! You know he’s no match for her, Vasily Danilych.

Vozhevatov. Of course he’s no match! But what can they do, where can they find a husband for her? After all, she doesn’t have any dowry.

Knurov. Even girls without a dowry can find good husbands.

Vozhevatov. Times have changed. There used to be enough eligible bachelors, even for girls without a dowry. But now there’s just enough for girls with a dowry, no extras for those without. Do you think Kharita Ignatyevna would marry her daughter off to Karandyshov if she could find anyone better?

Knurov. She’s a resourceful woman.

Vozhevatov. She can’t be Russian.

Knurov. Why not?

Vozhevatov. She’s so energetic.

Knurov. How could she make such a mistake? The Ogudalovs have a respectable family name, and just like that a marriage to the likes of Karandyshov!.. And with all her cleverness… their house is always full of bachelors!.

Vozhevatov. The men all go to her house because it’s so much fun there. Her daughter’s pretty, plays different instruments, sings, has a free and easy manner, all that attracts them. But getting married to her is something to think about.

Knurov. The other two daughters got married off.

Vozhevatov. They got married off all right, but you should ask them how sweet their life is. The oldest girl was taken away by some mountaineer, a young prince from the Caucasus. What fun that was! When he first saw her, he started to shake all over, he even began to cry. He stayed near her for a couple of weeks, he’d hold on to his dagger, and his eyes flashed so that nobody else came close. So they got married and went off, but they say he didn’t even get her to the Caucasus, that he killed her on the way from jealousy. The other girl got married too, to some sort of foreigner, only later it turned out that he was no foreigner at all but a card shark.

Knurov. Madame Ogudalov wasn’t dumb the way she figured it out. She doesn’t have any money and can’t give a dowry, so she keeps open house and receives everybody.

Vozhevatov. She likes to have fun herself, but she just doesn’t have the means for such a life.

Knurov. Then where does she get the money?

Vozhevatov. The suitors pay. If a man likes the daughter, than he shells out. Later on the mother will want money from the groom to pay for the dowry, only he shouldn’t ask for the dowry.

Knurov. Well, I don’t think it’s just the suitors who pay for it. Take you, for example. It must cost you a pretty penny to visit the family so often.

Vozhevatov. It won’t ruin me, Moky Parmenych. What’s a man to do? He has to pay for his pleasures, they don’t come free. And being in their home is a great pleasure.

Knurov. It really is a pleasure, you’re right there.

Vozhevatov. And yet you yourself are almost never there.

Knurov. It’s awkward; there’s so much riffraff there. You run into them later and they exchange greetings, then worm their way into a conversation. Karandyshov is one of them. What kind of an acquaintance is he for me!

Vozhevatov. Yes, their home is like a bazaar.

Knurov. So what’s the good of it? One fellow goes up to Larisa Dmitriyevna with his compliments, another with tender remarks, and they buzz away so you can’t get in a single word with her. I’d like to see her more often when she’s alone, without any interference.

Vozhevatov. Somebody ought to marry her.

Knurov. Marry her! Not everybody can, and not everybody even wants to. Me, for example, I’m a married man.

Vozhevatov. Then there’s nothing to be done. The grapes are pretty but not for picking,[2] Moky Parmenych.

Knurov. You think so?

Vozhevatov. That’s the way it seems. They don’t follow those procedures. There were a few times when they could have, but they weren’t tempted. It’s got to be marriage even if that means Karandyshov.

Knurov. But it would be nice to make a trip to the Paris exposition with a girl like that.

Vozhevatov. Yes, that wouldn’t be boring, a pleasant trip that. What plans you have, Moky Parmenych!

Knurov. And you’ve never had any plans like that?

Vozhevatov. How could I! I’m green at such things.

I just don’t have any boldness with women. You know, I was brought up in a terribly moral, old-fashioned way.

Knurov. Oh come now! Your chances are better than mine; you have youth, a big thing. And you won’t begrudge the money; you’re buying the boat cheap, so you can take it out of the profits. Still, you must realize it would cost you as much as the Swallow.

Vozhevatov. Every piece of goods has its price, Moky Parmenych. I may be young, but I won’t overdo it. I won’t give any more than I have to.

Knurov. Don’t guarantee it! At your age it wouldn’t take much to fall in love, and then we’d see what calculations you’d make!

Vozhevatov. No, Moky Parmenych, somehow or other I don’t notice that sort of thing in myself.

Knurov. What sort of thing?

Vozhevatov. What they call love.

Knurov. That’s commendable, you’ll make a good merchant. All the same, you’re a lot closer to her than the others.

Vozhevatov. But what does my being close to her amount to? Sometimes I’ll pour her an extra glass of champagne when her mother’s not looking, learn a song from her, bring her novels, the kind they don’t give girls to read.

Knurov. In other words, you’re corrupting her a little.

Vozhevatov. What’s that to me! After all, I’m not forcing myself on her. Why should I worry about her morals? I’m not her guardian.

Knurov. I just can’t get over it. Does Larisa Dmitriyevna really have no other suitors besides Karandyshov?

Vozhevatov. She had some, but she’s terribly naive.

Knurov. Naive, how? You mean she’s stupid?

Vozhevatov. She’s not stupid, but she’s not shrewd at all, she doesn’t take after her mother in that. Her mother’s always shrewd and full of flattering, but she for no reason at all will suddenly come out with something she doesn’t have to.

Knurov. You mean the truth?

Vozhevatov. Yes, the truth. But that’s something that young women without a dowry just can’t do. If she likes somebody, she doesn’t hide it at all. Last year Sergey Sergeyich Paratov showed up, and she couldn’t see enough of him. He kept coming for a couple of months, beat away all the other suitors, and then he flew the coop. Nobody knew where he disappeared to.

Knurov. Whatever possessed him to do that?

Vozhevatov. Who knows? He’s a hard one to figure out. But you should have seen how she loved him, she almost died from grief. How sentimental she was! (He laughs.) She set out to try and catch up with him, but her mother got her at the second stop and brought her back.

Knurov. And were there any suitors after Paratov?

Vozhevatov. Two came from somewhere. One was an old man with the gout. Then there was a manager for some prince or other; that manager had gotten rich, but he was always drunk. Larisa didn’t want to have anything to do with them, but she had to be nice to them, Mama’s orders.

Knurov. Her lot is not a happy one.

Vozhevatov. No, it’s even absurd. Sometimes there were a few tears in her eyes, and you could see she was about to cry, but Mama told her to smile. And then a cashier turned up. He threw his money all about, enough to cover Kharita Ignatyevna with it. He won the field over everybody, but he didn’t strut for long, they arrested him at his home. What a great scandal that was! (He laughs.) For about a month the Ogudalovs couldn’t go anywhere. It was then that Larisa told her mother point-blank, “We’ve put up with enough of this shame. I’ll marry the first one who comes along, whether he’s rich or poor. I’m not going to be choosy.” And up pops Karandyshov with his proposal.

Knurov. Where did this Karandyshov come from?

Vozhevatov. He’s been hanging around their house a long time, about three years. They didn’t chase him away, but they didn’t show him much respect either. When the lull set in and there weren’t any rich suitors in sight they held onto Karandyshov and gave him some invitations so the house wouldn’t be empty. But when some rich guy dropped in, it was simply pitiful to look at Karandyshov. They didn’t even talk to him or even look at him. And there he sat in his corner, playing his different roles, throwing out savage looks, pretending to be in despair. Once he wanted to shoot himself, but nothing came of that, he just made everybody laugh. And here’s the funny part. Once they had a costume party, and Paratov was there. So Karandyshov dressed himself up as a highway robber, took an axe in his hands, and threw wild looks at everybody, especially Sergey Sergeyich.

Knurov. Then what?

Vozhevatov. They took his axe away from him and told him to change his clothes or else he’d have to leave!

Knurov. What it all means is, he’s being rewarded for being faithful. He’s happy, I’m sure.

Vozhevatov. Happy and then some, glowing like an orange. It’s so funny! He’s really a nut. What he ought to do is marry her as soon as he can and take her away to his little estate till the talk dies down. The Ogudalovs would like that. But instead he drags Larisa along the boulevard on his arm with his head raised so high he’d run right into you if you didn’t watch out. And then for some reason he’s taken to wearing glasses, but he never used to wear them. When he bows he hardly nods his head, and he’s taken on a certain air. Before you’d hardly hear a word out of him, but now it’s always, “I this, I that, I want, I wish.”

Knurov. He’s like the Russian peasant. It’s not enough fun just getting drunk. He has to act high and mighty so everybody takes notice. So he gets up on his high horse, and they give him a thrashing or two. Then he’s satisfied and goes off to sleep.

Vozhevatov. Yes, I suppose that’s the sort of thing Karandyshov has to go through.

Knurov. Poor girl! She must suffer just looking at him.

Vozhevatov. He got the idea of decorating his apartment, and here’s what he dreamed up. In his study he put up a cheap tapestry on the wall, and he hung up daggers and pistols from Tula. That would be no surprise if he were a hunter, but he’s never held a gun in his life. So he drags you to his place and shows it all off to you, and you have to praise him for it or he’ll take offense. He’s a proud man, envious too. He ordered a horse from the country, some nag or other with different colors, and he has a little coachman who wears a coat handed down from a big coachman. And with that camel he takes Larisa Dmitriyevna driving; he sits there so proudly, as if he were driving with a thousand trotters. He walks up from the boulevard and shouts to the constable, “Have them bring my carriage!” So that carriage of his comes driving up with all its music, the screws and nuts all jangling out of tune, and the springs shaking as if they’re alive.

Knurov. I’m sorry for poor Larisa Dmitriyevna. I’m sorry for her.

Vozhevatov. Why are you so sorry for her?

Knurov. Don’t you see? Here’s a woman made for luxury. A precious jewel demands a costly setting.

Vozhevatov. And a good jeweler.

Knurov. That’s the whole truth. A jeweler and not just an ordinary workman; he has to be an artist. If she’s surrounded by poverty and married to a fool besides, she’ll either perish or become common.

Vozhevatov. But I think she’ll throw him over pretty soon. She’s like a dead woman now, but when she recovers and takes a closer look at her husband, sees what he’s like… (Quietly.) There they are now, speak of the devil.

Karandyshov, Madame Ogudalov, and Larisa enter. Vozhevatov stands up and bows. Knurov takes out a newspaper. Larisa sits down on a bench by the railing and looks through binoculars at the Volga.

Mme Ogudalov (walking over to the table). Greetings, gentlemen!

Karandyshov follows her over. Vozhevatov gives his hand to both of them. Knurov silently and not rising from his place gives his hand to Mme Ogudalov, nods slightly to Karandyshov, and buries himself in his newspaper.

Vozhevatov. Kharita Ignatyenva, please sit down. (He moves a chair forward.)

Mme Ogudalov sits down.

Wouldn’t you like some tea?

Karandyshov sits down some distance away.

Mme Ogudalov. All right, I’ll take a cup.

Vozhevatov. Ivan, bring a cup and add some boiling water.

Ivan takes the teapot and goes off.

Karandyshov. What a crazy idea to drink tea at this time of day? It amazes me.

Vozhevatov. It’s a question of thirst, Yuly Kapitonych, but just what I should drink I don’t know. Give me your advice, I’d appreciate it.

Karandyshov (looks at his watch). At the present moment it’s noon, so you could have a small glass of vodka, a chop, and then a small glass of good wine. That’s how I always lunch.

Vozhevatov (to Mme Ogudalov). Now that’s what I call living, Kharita Ignatyenva, it makes a man jealous. (To Karandyshov.) If I could only live one little day in your shoes. A bit of vodka, a bit of wine! But we can’t do that, sir, we might lose our powers of reasoning. You can do what you want, you’re not running through your capital because you don’t have any, but we poor devils were born into the world with a lot of big deals to attend to, so we’re not allowed to lose our reason.

Ivan brings the teapot and a cup.

Kharita Ignatyenva, please! (He pours out a cup and hands it to her.) I drink my tea cold so people won’t say I use hot drinks.

Mme Ogudalov. The tea’s cold all right. Only, Vasya, you poured mine too strong.

Vozhevatov. That doesn’t matter, ma’am. Drink it, for my sake! It won’t do you any harm in the open air.

Karandyshov (to Ivan). Come to my house tonight to serve dinner.

Ivan. Yes, sir, Yuly Kapitonych.

Karandyshov. And listen, my friend, dress up for it.

Ivan. Of course, a frock coat. As if we didn’t understand that, sir.

Karandyshov. Vasily Danilych, tell you what! You come and have dinner with me tonight!

Vozhevatov. Thank you so much. And are you going to order me to come in a frock coat too?

Karandyshov. As you wish, don’t stand on ceremony. Still, there’ll be ladies.

Vozhevatov (bowing). Yes, sir. I hope I won’t disgrace myself.

Karandyshov (walks over to Knurov). Moky Parmenych, wouldn’t you like to come and have dinner with me tonight?

Knurov (looks at him in astonishment). With you?

Mme Ogudalov. Moky Parmenych, it’s the same as with us; this is a dinner for Larisa.

Knurov. I see, so it’s you who’s inviting me? Fine, I’ll come.

Karandyshov. I’ll look forward to seeing you, then.

Knurov. I already said I’d come. (He reads his newspaper.)

Mme Ogudalov. Yuly Kapitonych is my future son-inlaw; I’m letting him marry Larisa.

Knurov (continuing to read). That’s your affair.

Karandyshov. Yes, sir, Moky Parmenych, I took the risk. In general I’ve always been above prejudices.

Knurov hides behind the newspaper.

Vozhevatov (to Mme Ogudalov). Moky Parmenych is stern.

Karandyshov (moving from Knurov to Vozhevatov). I wish that Larisa Dmitriyevna be surrounded only by choice people.

Vozhevatov. Which means I’m one of the elect? Thank you, that’s something I wasn’t expecting. (To Gavrilo.) Gavrilo, how much do I owe you for the tea?

Gavrilo. You had two orders?

Vozhevatov. Yes, two orders.

Gavrilo. Then you should know yourself, Vasily Danilych, it’s not the first time… Thirteen rubles, sir.

Vozhevatov. I just thought it might have gotten cheaper.

Gavrilo. How could it have gotten cheaper! With the rate of exchange and the customs tax, really!

Vozhevatov. But I’m not arguing with you, why talk about it! Take your money and forget it! (He gives him the money.)

Karandyshov. But why is it so expensive? I don’t understand.

Gavrilo. It’s expensive for some but not for others. You don’t drink that kind of tea.

Mme Ogudalov (to Karandyshov). Stop it, don’t meddle in other people’s affairs.

Ivan. Vasily Danilych, the Swallow is coming in.

Vozhevatov. Moky Parmenych, the Swallow is coming in, wouldn’t you like to take a look? We won’t go down, we can look from the hill.

Knurov. Let’s go. I’m curious. (He gets up.)

Mme Ogudalov. Vasya, I’m going home in your carriage.

Vozhevatov. Take it, only send it back soon. (He goes over to Larisa and speaks quietly with her.)

Mme Ogudalov (goes over to Knurov). Moky Parmenych, we’ve embarked on a wedding, you just can’t believe how many troubles there are.

Knurov. Yes.

Mme Ogudalov. And suddenly there are unexpected expenses… And tomorrow’s Larisa’s birthday, I’d like to give her a present.

Knurov. Good, I’ll drop in on you.

Mme Ogudalov goes off.

Larisa (to Vozhevatov). Good-bye, Vasya!

Vozhevatov and Knurov leave. Larisa approaches Karandyshov.

Larisa. Just now I was looking across the Volga. How nice it is on the other side! Let’s go to the country as soon as we can!

Karandyshov. You were looking across the Volga? And what was Vozhevatov talking with you about?

Larisa. Nothing really, just little things. I want so much to go to the other side of the Volga, into the woods… (Thoughtfully.) Let’s go, let’s leave here!

Karandyshov. But it’s so strange! What could he have to talk with you about?

Larisa. Well, whatever he talked about, what business is it of yours?

Karandyshov. You call him Vasya. Why so familiar with a young man?

Larisa. We’ve known each other since childhood. When we were little we played together. So I’ve gotten used to calling him that.

Karandyshov. You’ll have to throw off your old habits. There’s no reason to be friends with a shallow and stupid boy. It’s not possible to tolerate the sort of life you’ve had so far.

Larisa (offended). There hasn’t been anything bad in our life.

Karandyshov. It’s been a gypsy camp, miss, that’s what it’s been. (Larisa wipes away some tears.) But why are you so offended!

Larisa. So maybe it has been a gypsy camp, but at least it’s been fun. Will you be able to give me something better than this camp?

Karandyshov. Of course.

Larisa. Why do you keep on reproaching me with it? Do you really think I’ve liked our kind of life? Mama told me how she wanted things, and so, whether I wanted to or not, I had to lead that kind of life. Throwing this gypsy life at me all the time is either stupid or heartless. If I weren’t looking for quiet and solitude, I wouldn’t be wanting to run away from people, and would I really be marrying you? So try to understand that and don’t go assigning my choice to your virtues, I don’t see them yet. I still only want to fall in love with you; I’m drawn to the quiet family life, it looks like some kind of heaven. You can see I’m standing at the crossroads, so give me support, I need encouragement and sympathy. Deal with me tenderly, with affection. Seize these moments, don’t let them pass.

Karandyshov. Larisa Dmitriyevna, I didn’t mean to offend you at all, somehow the words just came to my tongue…

Larisa. What is that “somehow”? You mean you weren’t thinking, that you didn’t understand your words might be offensive?

Karandyshov. Exactly, I did it without any intent.

Larisa. That makes it even worse. You should think about what you say. Chatter away with others if you like, but with me speak more carefully. Can’t you see my position is very serious! I feel every word I say and hear. I’ve become very sensitive and impressionable.

Karandyshov. In that case please forgive me.

Larisa. All right, only in the future be more careful. (Thoughtfully.) Gypsy camp… Yes, that’s true… but in that camp have been some good and noble people.

Karandyshov. What noble people? You don’t perhaps mean Sergey Sergeyich Paratov?

Larisa. No, please, don’t speak of him.

Karandyshov. And why not?

Larisa. You don’t know him, and even if you did know him, well… forgive me, but it’s not for you to pass judgment on him.

Karandyshov. People are judged by their actions. Do you think he acted well with you?

Larisa. That’s my affair. If I’m afraid to, if I don’t dare to pass judgment on him, then I’m not going to let you do it.

Karandyshov. Larisa Dmitriyevna, tell me something. Only please, speak frankly.

Larisa. What is it?

Karandyshov. How am I any worse than Paratov?

Larisa. Oh no, don’t ask that!

Karandyshov. But why not?

Larisa. Better not, better not! How can there be any comparison!

Karandyshov. That’s what I’d like to hear from you.

Larisa. Don’t ask, there’s no need!

Karandyshov. But why not?

Larisa. Because the comparison will not be to your advantage. By yourself you have value, you’re a good and honest man. But in comparison with Sergey Sergeyich you lose everything.

Karandyshov. But those are just words, we need proof. Give him and me a real analysis.

Larisa. Do you know the man you’re comparing yourself with! How can you be so blind! Sergey Sergeyich… is the ideal man. Do you understand what ideal is? Maybe I’m wrong, I’m still young and don’t know people, but it will be impossible to change this opinion in me, it will die with me.

Karandyshov. I just can’t understand what’s so special about him, I don’t see anything. There’s a certain boldness, an impudence. But anybody can have that if he wants.

Larisa. And do you know what boldness is?

Karandyshov. Whatever it is, what’s so wonderful about it? All it takes is putting on airs.

Larisa. To show what it is I’ll tell you something that happened. There was an officer from the Caucasus passing through here, an acquaintance of Sergey Sergeyich, and he was a wonderful shot. They were both at our place, and Sergey Sergeyich says to him, “I hear you’re a wonderful shot.” “Yes, not bad,” says the officer. Sergey Sergeyich gives him a pistol, puts a glass on his own head, and he goes off to another room, about twelve steps away. “Shoot,” he says.

Karandyshov. And he shot?

Larisa. He shot, and, of course, he knocked off the glass, only he turned a little pale. Sergey Sergeyich says, “You shoot beautifully, but you turned pale, and you were shooting at a man, and a man not close to you. Look, I’m going to shoot at a young woman who’s dearer to me than anything in the world, and I won’t turn pale.” He gives me a coin to hold, and, with indifference and a smile, he shoots from the same distance and hits it.

Karandyshov. And you obeyed him?

Larisa. How could I do anything else?

Karandyshov. You really had so much confidence in him?

Larisa. How can you ask! How could I not have confidence in him?

Karandyshov. He has no heart, that’s why he’s so bold.

Larisa. No, he has a heart too. I saw myself how he helped the poor, how he gave away all the money he had on him.

Karandyshov. So, let’s grant that Paratov has some virtues, at least in your eyes, but what about this petty merchant, this Vasya of yours?

Larisa. You’re not being jealous, are you? No, you stop all this nonsense. It’s degrading, and I won’t tolerate it, I’m telling you in advance. Don’t worry, I’m not in love with anybody, and I won’t fall in love with anybody.

Karandyshov. But what if Paratov should show up?

Larisa. Of course, if Paratov should show up and were free, then it would take only one look from him… But you can set your mind at ease, he hasn’t showed up, and even if he should show up now, it’s already too late. We’ll probably never see each other again.

A cannon shot on the Volga.

What’s that?

Karandyshov. Some high and mighty merchant is coming in, so they’re firing a salute in his honor.

Larisa. Oh, how it frightened me!

Karandyshov. Why, why should it?

Larisa. My nerves are upset. Just now I was looking down from this bench, and I began to get dizzy. Could one hurt oneself here very much?

Karandyshov. Hurt oneself! Here it’s sure death, it’s paved with stone below. And it’s so high here you’d die before you hit the bottom.

Larisa. Let’s go home, it’s time.

Karandyshov. I have to go too, I have that dinner, you know.

Larisa (going to the railing). Wait awhile. (She looks below.) Oh, oh, hold on to me!

Karandyshov (takes Larisa by the arm). Come on, you’re just being childish!

They leave. Gavrilo and Ivan enter from the coffee house.

Ivan. The cannon! The gentleman’s come, the gentleman’s come, Sergey Sergeyich.

Gavrilo. I told you it was him. I know-you can tell a falcon by its flight.

Ivan. The carriage is coming uphill empty. That means the gentlemen are coming on foot. There they are! (He runs off into the coffee house.)

Gavrilo. Welcome to them. I wish I could figure out what to treat them with.

Paratov enters. He is wearing a single-breasted, close-fitting, black frock coat, varnished high boots, a white service cap; across his shoulder is a traveling bag. With him are Robinson (wearing a cloak, the right flap of which is thrown over his left shoulder, and a tall soft hat perched on one side of his head), Knurov, and Vozhevatov. Ivan runs out of the coffee house with a hand broom to brush off Paratov.

Paratov (to Ivan). What are you doing! I’ve just come from the water, there’s no dust on the Volga.

Ivan. All the same, sir, it’s impossible not to… custom requires it. It’s been a whole year since we saw you… we want to welcome you, sir.

Paratov. All right, fine, thank you. Here. (Hegives him a ruble note.)

Ivan. Thank you very much, sir. (He goes off.)

Paratov. So, Vasily Danilych, you were expecting me to come on the Flier?

Vozhevatov. I didn’t know you’d be coming on your Swallow. I thought you’d be coming with the barges.

Paratov. No, I sold my barges. I thought I’d get here early this morning. I wanted to pass the Flier, but the engineer’s a coward. I keep shouting to the stokers, “Stoke away!”-but he takes the wood from them. He climbs out of the hold and says, “If you throw down just one more log, I’ll throw myself overboard.” He was afraid the boiler wouldn’t stand it. He scratched out some figures for me on paper, calculated the pressure. He’s a foreigner, a Dutchman, a timid soul; they have arithmetic instead of a soul. But gentlemen, I forgot to introduce you to my friend. Moky Parmenych, Vasily Danilych, I present you-Robinson.

Robinson bows solemnly and shakes hands with Knurov and Vozhevatov.

Vozhevatov. And what’s his first name and patronymic?

Paratov. He’s just Robinson, that’s all, no first name or patronymic.

Robinson (to Paratov). Serge!

Paratov. What is it?

Robinson. It’s noon, my friend, I’m suffering.

Paratov. You just wait, we’ll be going to an inn.

Robinson (pointing to the coffee house). Voilà!

Paratov. All right, go ahead, have it your own way!

Robinson goes to the coffee house.

Gavrilo, don’t serve that gentleman more than one small glass; he has a restless disposition.

Robinson (shrugging his shoulders). Serge! (He enters the coffee house, Gavrilo after him.)

Paratov. That, gentlemen, is an actor from the provinces, Arkady Shchastlivtsev by name.

Vozhevatov. Then why is he called Robinson?

Paratov. I’ll tell you. He was traveling on some steamboat or other, I don’t know which one, with a friend of his, a merchant’s son named Neputôvy, both drunk, of course, drunk as could be. They did whatever came into their head, and the passengers put up with it all. At last, to top off all their insane antics, they thought up a dramatic performance. They took off their clothes, cut open a pillow, covered themselves with down and began to play savages. At that point the captain, on the insistence of the passengers, put them ashore on a desert island. We go sailing by that island, I look, and somebody calls out, lifting his arms. Immediately I shout, “Stop,” get into a boat myself, and I find the actor Shchastlivtsev. I take him onto our boat and dress him from head to foot in my own clothes since I have extra. Gentlemen, I have a weakness for actors… That’s why he’s Robinson.

Vozhevatov. And Neputovy stayed on the island?

Paratov. But what good was he to me? Let him get the fresh air. You can judge for yourselves, gentlemen. You know, when you’re traveling it can get awfully boring, you’re glad for any companion.

Knurov. Quite right, of course.

Vozhevatov. That was lucky, a real stroke of luck! Like finding gold!

Knurov. Just one drawback, he’s given to drunkenness.

Paratov. No, gentlemen, he can’t get drunk with me, I’m strict about that. He has no money, and he can’t get anything without my permission. And if he asks me for something, then I make him learn some French conversations from a phrase book I was lucky enough to have. He learns a page first or I won’t give him anything. So he sits down and studies, how hard he tries!

Vozhevatov. How lucky you are, Sergey Sergeyich! I wouldn’t spare anything to have a man like that, but there aren’t any around. Is he a good actor?

Paratov. Well no, hardly! He went through all the roles and was a prompter, but now he plays in operettas. It doesn’t matter, he’ll pass well enough, he’s amusing.

Vozhevatov. You mean he’s fun?

Paratov. He’s entertaining.

Vozhevatov. And can you play jokes on him?

Paratov. Sure, he’s not touchy. Look, to satisfy you I can let you have him for two or three days.

Vozhevatov. Thank you very much. If I like him, he won’t lose by it.

Knurov. How is it, Sergey Sergeyich, that you don’t feel sorry about selling the Swallow?

Paratov. I don’t know what it means to “feel sorry”: for me, Moky Parmenych, nothing is sacred. If it’s to my advantage, I’ll sell anything, no matter what. But now, gentlemen, I have other business and other considerations. I’m going to marry a very rich young woman, I’ll be getting gold mines for a dowry.

Vozhevatov. A good dowry.

Paratov. It won’t come cheap. I have to say good-bye to my freedom and my life of fun. That’s why we should try hard to have a high old time these last days.

Vozhevatov. We’ll try hard, Sergey Sergeyich, we’ll try hard.

Paratov. My fiancée’s father is an important official. He’s a strict old man, and he can’t stand hearing about gypsies, carousals, and the like. He doesn’t even like it if somebody smokes a lot. What you’re supposed to do is put on your frockcoat and parlez français! That’s why I’m practicing now with Robinson. Only he, maybe for show, I don’t know, calls me “la Serge,” not simply “Serge.” He’s terribly funny!

Robinson appears on the steps of the coffee house, chewing something. Gavrilo is behind him.

Paratov (to Robinson). Que faites-vous là? Venez!

Robinson (with a distinguished air). Comment?

Paratov. What charm! What a tone, gentlemen! (To Robinson.) You give up that filthy habit of abandoning respectable society for the tavern.

Vozhevatov. Yes, they have a way of doing that.

Robinson. La Serge, you’ve managed to… There was no need to do that.

Paratov. Yes, forgive me, I gave away your pseudonym.

Vozhevatov. We won’t give you away, Robinson, you’ll pass among us as an Englishman, old man.

Robinson. Why this sudden familiarity? You and I haven’t drunk any fraternal pledge.

Vozhevatov. It doesn’t matter… Why stand on ceremony!

Robinson. But I don’t tolerate familiarity, and I won’t permit just anybody.

Vozhevatov. But I’m not just anybody.

Robinson. Then who are you?

Vozhevatov. A merchant.

Robinson. A rich one?

Vozhevatov. A rich one.

Robinson. And generous?

Vozhevatov. And generous.

Robinson. Now that’s something to my taste. (He extends his hand to Vozhevatov.) Very pleased to meet you. Now I can permit you to deal with me without formalities.

Vozhevatov. That means we’re friends, two bodies, one soul.

Robinson. And one pocket. What’s your first name and patronymic? I mean, your first name, the patronymic’s not necessary.

Vozhevatov. Vasily Danilych.

Robinson. Tell you what, Vasya, in honor of our first acquaintance you pay for me.

Vozhevatov. Gavrilo, write it down to my account. Sergey Sergeyich, we’re getting up a picnic for tonight on the other side of the Volga. In one boat there’ll be gypsies, and we’ll be in the other. When we get there we’ll sit down on a rug and heat up some hot punch.

Gavrilo. And I, Sergey Sergeyich, have two pineapples that have been waiting for you a long time. They should be broken into to celebrate your arrival.

Paratov (to Gavrilo). Fine, cut them up! (To Vozhevatov.) Gentlemen, I’m at your disposal, do what you want with me.

Gavrilo. And I, Vasily Danilych, will make all the necessary arrangements. I have a silver saucepan for such occasions, and I’ll let my help go off with you.

Vozhevatov. All right, very good. Have everything ready by six. If you should get in something extra, it won’t be held against you, but you’ll have to answer for any lack.

Gavrilo. We understand, sir.

Vozhevatov. And when we come back we’ll light up colored lanterns on the boats.

Robinson. I haven’t known him long, and already I’ve grown fond of him, gentlemen. There’s a miracle for you!

Paratov. The main thing is, there should be a good time. I’m saying goodbye to my bachelor life, so I want something to remember it by. And this evening, gentlemen, I invite you to have dinner with me.

Vozhevatov. What a pity! I’m afraid that’s impossible, Sergey Sergeyich.

Knurov. We’ve been invited elsewhere.

Paratov. Decline, gentlemen.

Vozhevatov. We can’t decline. Larisa Dmitriyevna is getting married, so we’re having dinner at her fiancé’s.

Paratov. Larisa is getting married! (He becomes pensive.) So then… God be with her! This is even better… I’m a bit guilty towards her, or rather, I’m so guilty I shouldn’t show my face to them. But now she’s getting married it means the old scores are settled, and I can show up and kiss her little hands, and aunty’s too. I call Kharita Ignatyevna aunty for short. You know, I almost married Larisa; that would have given people something to laugh at! Yes, I almost made a fool of myself. So she’s getting married. That’s very nice on her part; all the same I do feel a bit relieved… and may God grant her health and every blessing! I’ll drop in on them, I’ll drop in. It’ll be interesting, very interesting to have a look at her.

Vozhevatov. They’ll probably invite you.

Paratov. Of course, how could they do without me!

Knurov. I’m very glad. Now at least I’ll have somebody at dinner to exchange a word with.

Vozhevatov. When we’re there we’ll talk over how we can pass time to have more fun. Maybe we can think up something else.

Paratov. Yes, gentlemen, life is short, that’s what the philosophers tell us, so we’ve got to know how to take advantage of it… N’est-ce pas, Robinson?

Robinson. Oui, la Serge.

Vozhevatov. We’ll try hard, you won’t be bored, we’ll stand on that. We’ll take a third boat, and we’ll put the regimental band on it.

Paratov. Good day, gentlemen! I’m going to the inn. Robinson, forward… march!

Robinson (lifting his hat).

Long live merriment!

Long live delight![3]