Delphi Complete Works of Anton Chekhov (Illustrated) (412 page)

SCENE X

SONYA AND ELENA ANDREYEVNA

ELENA ANDREYEVNA (opening the windows): The storm’s over! The air is so wonderfully fresh! (After a pause.)

Where’s the Wood Demon?

SONYA: He’s gone.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: Sophie!

SONYA: Well?

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: How long are you going to be cross with me? We’ve done no wrong to one another. Why be enemies? It’s time we stopped. . . .

SONYA: I myself had wished . . . (Embracing her.)

Dear!

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: Splendid! . . . (Both are agitated.)

SONYA: Has papa gone to bed?

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: No, he’s sitting in the drawing-room.

. . . You and I don’t speak to one another for a month on end — God knows why. It’s time at last to stop it. . . .

(.Looking at the table) What’s all this?

SONYA: The Wood Demon had something to eat.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: And there’s wine, too... Let’s drink to our friendship.

SONYA: Let’s.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: From the same glass... (Pouring out wine.) It’s much better like that. From now on we say “ thou “ to one another. Thou!

SONYA: Thou! (They drink and embrace.) I have long wished to make peace, but I felt shy. . . .
             
(Crying.)

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: Why are you crying then?

SONYA: For no reason, just so.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: You must not, you must not. . . .

(Crying.) You queer creature, I too have started crying!

(After a pause.) You are cross with me because you seem to think that I married your father from calculation. If you believe me, I swear that I married him for love. It was the scholar and famous man in him by whom I was infatuated.

My love was not real love, it was artificial; but indeed it seemed to me that it was real. I am not to blame. And you,

from the very day of our marriage, have punished me with your cunning, suspicious eyes. . . .

SONYA: Come, peace, peace! Let us forget. This is the second time to-day that I’ve heard that I have cunning,

suspicious eyes.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: One must not look at life so cunningly. It does not suit you at all. One must trust,

otherwise life’s impossible.

SONYA: “ A frighted crow fears the bush.” I have so often been disillusioned.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: In whom? Your father is a good,

honest man, a worker. To-day you reproved him for being happy. If he indeed was happy — absorbed in his work, he did not notice his happiness. I have done no deliberate wrong either to your father or to you. Uncle George is a very nice, honest, but unhappy, dissatisfied man... (After a pause.) Whom, then, do you not trust?

SONYA: Tell me truly, as a friend... Are you happy?

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: No.

SONYA: I knew it. One more question. Tell me frankly,

would you like your husband to be young?

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: What a little girl you are! Certainly,

I should! (Laughing.) Well, ask some more questions — do ask. . . .

SONYA: Do you like the Wood Demon?

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: Yes, very much.

SONYA (laughing): I have a silly expression on my face . . . have I? He’s gone, and I still seem to hear his voice,

his steps, and as I look at the dark window I seem to see his face there... Let me tell you everything... But I can’t speak aloud, I’m ashamed. Come to my room, I’ll tell you there. Do I seem silly to you? Tell me... He’s a nice man?

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: Very, very nice. . . .

SONYA: His forests, peat — they seem strange to me. . . .

I can’t make it all out.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: But forests are not the point! My darling, you see, it is talent that matters! You know what talent is? Courage, a free spirit, soaring to the heights . . .

he plants a little tree or digs up a hundredweight of peat —

and already he visualizes what’s to happen in a thousand years, he already dreams of the happiness of mankind. Such men as he are valuable, and should be loved. God bless you.

You both are pure, courageous, honest. He’s rather untamed,

but you are sensible, clear-headed... You will complete one another splendidly... (Getting up.) And I, I am tiresome,

I am an episodic character. ... In my music, in my husband’s house, and in all your love-makings — in everything I have only been an episodic character. Indeed, Sonya, if you come to think of it, I am, probably, very, very unhappy!

(Pacing the room in agitation.) There’s no happiness for me in this world! No! . . . Why do you laugh?

SONYA (laughing and covering her face): I am so happy!

So very happy!

ELENA ANDREYEVNA (wringing her hands): Indeed, how unhappy I am!

SONYA: I am happy . . . happy.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: I want music. ... I should like to play now. . . .

SONYA: Do play. (Embracing her.) I can’t sleep... Do play.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: I will. Your father hasn’t gone to bed. When he’s not well, music irritates him. Go and ask him. If he does not object, I’ll play ... go and ask him.

SONYA: I shall be back in a moment.

[Goes out. The night watchman knocks in the garden.

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: I haven’t played for a long time. I shall play, and cry like a fool... (Going to the window.)

Is it you knocking there, Yefim?

THE WATCHMAN’S VOICE: Ye-s!

ELENA ANDREYEVNA: Stop knocking. The master is not well.

THE WATCHMAN’S VOICE: I’m going! (Whistling.) Nigger!

Jack! (After a pause.) Nigger!

SONYA (returning): No!

CURTAIN

ACT III

The drawing-room of the SEREBRYAKOVS’ house. Three doors:

one to the right, one to the left, and one in the middle.

Time: afternoon. Behind the scene ELENA ANDREYEVNA

is heard playing Lensky’s aria, before the duel, from the opera “ Evgueny Oneyguin.”

SCENE I

ORLOVSKY, VOYNITSKY, and FYODOR IVANOVICH (the latter dressed in Circassian attire with a papakha (a fur cap) in his hand)

VOYNITSKY (listening to the music): It’s Elena Andreyevna playing . . . my favourite aria... (The music coming to an end.) Yes . . . it’s a fine piece. ... It seems never to have been so boring here as it is now. . . .

FYODOR: You’ve never tasted real boredom, my dear fellow. When I was a volunteer in Serbia, there I experienced the real thing! Hot, stuffy, dirty, head simply splitting after a drinking bout... Once I remember sitting in a dirty little shed... Captain Kashkinazi was there, too... Every subject of conversation long exhausted, no place to go to,

nothing to do, no desire to drink — just sickening, you see,

sickening to the point of putting one’s head in a noose! We sat, in a frenzy, gazing at one another. ... He gazes at me,

I at him; he at me, I at him... We gaze and don’t know why we’re doing it... An hour passes, you know, then another hour, and still we keep on gazing. Suddenly he jumps up for no reason, draws his sabre and goes for me... Hey presto! ... I, of course, instantly draw my sabre — for he’ll kill me! — and it started: chic-chac, chic-chac, chic-chac, . . .

with the greatest difficulty we were at last separated. I got off all right, but to this very day Captain Kashkinazi walks about with a scar on his face. See how desperately bored one may get! . . .

ORLOVSKY: Yes, such things do happen.

ENTER SONYA.

SCENE II

THE SAME AND SONYA

SONYA (aside): I don’t know what to do with myself! . . .

(Walking about and laughing.)

ORLOVSKY: Puss, darling, where are you going? Do sit with us a while.

SONYA: Fedya, come here... (Taking FYODOR aside.)

Come here. . . .

FYODOR: What do you want? Why such a radiant face?

SONYA: Give me your word that you will do what I ask you!

FYODOR: Well?

SONYA: Drive over to the . . . Wood Demon.

FYODOR: What for?

SONYA: Just so . . . just drive over to him . . . ask him why he has kept away so long ... a fortnight now.

FYODOR: Blushing! Shame! Here, Sonya’s in love!

ALL: Shame! Shame!

[SONYA covers her face and runs away.

FYODOR: She’s flitting about, like a shadow, from room to room, and doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s in love with the Wood Demon.

ORLOVSKY: She’s a glorious little girl. ... I love her. I longed, Fyodor dear, that you should marry her, you won’t easily find a better bride. But well, probably God wills it so... And what a pleasure and delight mine would be!

I should come over to you, you with your young wife, your family hearth, the samovar chirping away on the table. . . .

FYODOR: I’m unskilled in these matters. If the crazy notion of marriage ever came into my head, I should in any case marry Julie. She, at any rate, is little, and of all evils one should always choose the least. And then, too, she’s a good housekeeper... (Clapping his forehad.) That’s an idea!

ORLOVSKY: What is it?

FYODOR: Let’s have champagt!

VOYNITSKY: It’s too early, and o it’s hot . . . you wait awhile. . . .

ORLOVSKY (admiringly): My sonny, my beauty! ... He wants champagne, the dear soul! . . .

ENTER ELENA ANDREYEVNA.