THE COLLECTED PLAYS OF ANTON CHEKHOV (12 Works in One Edition). Антон ЧеховЧитать онлайн книгу.
remarkable honesty. Walking and talking, it is written on his brow: “I am an honest man.” He is a great bore.
SHABELSKI. He is a narrow-minded, conceited medico. [Angrily] He shrieks like a parrot at every step: “Make way for honest endeavour!” and thinks himself another St. Francis. Everybody is a rascal who doesn’t make as much noise as he does. As for his penetration, it is simply remarkable! If a peasant is well off and lives decently, he sees at once that he must be a thief and a scoundrel. If I wear a velvet coat and am dressed by my valet, I am a rascal and the valet is my slave. There is no place in this world for a man like him. I am actually afraid of him. Yes, indeed, he is likely, out of a sense of duty, to insult a man at any moment and to call him a knave.
IVANOFF. I am dreadfully tired of him, but I can’t help liking him, too, he is so sincere.
SHABELSKI. Oh, yes, his sincerity is beautiful! He came up to me yesterday evening and remarked absolutely apropos of nothing: “Count, I have a deep aversion to you!” It isn’t as if he said such things simply, but they are extremely pointed. His voice trembles, his eyes flash, his veins swell. Confound his infernal honesty! Supposing I am disgusting and odious to him? What is more natural? I know that I am, but I don’t like to be told so to my face. I am a worthless old man, but he might have the decency to respect my grey hairs. Oh, what stupid, heartless honesty!
LEBEDIEFF. Come, come, you have been young yourself, and should make allowances for him.
SHABELSKI. Yes, I have been young and reckless; I have played the fool in my day and have seen plenty of knaves and scamps, but I have never called a thief a thief to his face, or talked of ropes in the house of a man who had been hung. I knew how to behave, but this idiotic doctor of yours would think himself in the seventh heaven of happiness if fate would allow him to pull my nose in public in the name of morality and human ideals.
LEBEDIEFF. Young men are all stubborn and restive. I had an uncle once who thought himself a philosopher. He would fill his house with guests, and after he had had a drink he would get up on a chair, like this, and begin: “You ignoramuses! You powers of darkness! This is the dawn of a new life!” And so on and so on; he would preach and preach ——
SASHA. And the guests?
LEBEDIEFF. They would just sit and listen and go on drinking. Once, though, I challenged him to a duel, challenged my own uncle! It came out of a discussion about Sir Francis Bacon. I was sitting, I remember, where Matthew is, and my uncle and the late Gerasim Nilitch were standing over there, about where Nicholas is now. Well, Gerasim Nilitch propounded this question ——
Enter BORKIN. He is dressed like a dandy and carries a parcel under his arm. He comes in singing and skipping through the door on the right. A murmur of approval is heard.
THE GIRLS. Oh, Michael Borkin!
LEBEDIEFF. Hallo, Misha!
SHABELSKI. The soul of the company!
BORKIN. Here we are! [He runs up to SASHA] Most noble Signorina, let me be so bold as to wish to the whole world many happy returns of the birthday of such an exquisite flower as you! As a token of my enthusiasm let me presume to present you with these fireworks and this Bengal fire of my own manufacture. [He hands her the parcel] May they illuminate the night as brightly as you illuminate the shadows of this dark world. [He spreads them out theatrically before her.]
SASHA. Thank you.
LEBEDIEFF. [Laughing loudly, to IVANOFF] Why don’t you send this Judas packing?
BORKIN. [To LEBEDIEFF] My compliments to you, sir. [To IVANOFF] How are you, my patron? [Sings] Nicholas voila, hey ho hey! [He greets everybody in turn] Most highly honoured Zinaida! Oh, glorious Martha! Most ancient Avdotia! Noblest of Counts!
SHABELSKI. [Laughing] The life of the company! The moment he comes in the air fe els livelier. Have you noticed it?
BORKIN. Whew! I am tired! I believe I have shaken hands with everybody. Well, ladies and gentlemen, haven’t you some little tidbit to tell me; something spicy? [Speaking quickly to ZINAIDA] Oh, aunty! I have something to tell you. As I was on my way here — [To GABRIEL] Some tea, please Gabriel, but without jam — as I was on my way here I saw some peasants down on the river-bank pulling the bark off the trees. Why don’t you lease that meadow?
LEBEDIEFF. [To IVANOFF] Why don’t you send that Judas away?
ZINAIDA. [Startled] Why, that is quite true! I never thought of it.
BORKIN. [Swinging his arms] I can’t sit still! What tricks shall we be up to next, aunty? I am all on edge, Martha, absolutely exalted. [He sings]
“Once more I stand before thee!”
ZINAIDA. Think of something to amuse us, Misha, we are all bored.
BORKIN. Yes, you look so. What is the matter with you all? Why are you sitting there as solemn as a jury? Come, let us play something; what shall it be? Forfeits? Hide-and-seek? Tag? Shall we dance, or have the fireworks?
THE GIRLS. [Clapping their hands] The fireworks! The fireworks! [They run into the garden.]
SASHA. [ To IVANOFF] What makes you so depressed today?
IVANOFF. My head aches, little Sasha, and then I feel bored.
SASHA. Come into the sitting-room with me.
They go out through the door on the right. All the guests go into the garden and ZINAIDA and LEBEDIEFF are left alone.
ZINAIDA. That is what I like to see! A young man like Misha comes into the room and in a minute he has everybody laughing. [She puts out the large lamp] There is no reason the candles should burn for nothing so long as they are all in the garden. [She blows out the candles.]
LEBEDIEFF. [Following her] We really ought to give our guests something to eat, Zuzu!
ZINAIDA. What crowds of candles; no wonder we are thought rich.
LEBEDIEFF. [Still following her] Do let them have something to eat, Zuzu; they are young and must be hungry by now, poor things — Zuzu!
ZINAIDA. The Count did not finish his tea, and all that sugar has been wasted. [Goes out through the door on the left.]
LEBEDIEFF. Bah! [Goes out into the garden.]
Enter IVANOFF and SASHA through the door on the right.
IVANOFF. This is how it is, Sasha: I used to work hard and think hard, and never tire; now, I neither do anything nor think anything, and I am weary, body and soul. I feel I am terribly to blame, my conscience leaves me no peace day or night, and yet I can’t see clearly exactly what my mistakes are. And now comes my wife’s illness, our poverty, this eternal backbiting, gossiping, chattering, that foolish Borkin — My home has become unendurable to me, and to live there is worse than torture. Frankly, Sasha, the presence of my wife, who loves me, has become unbearable. You are an old friend, little Sasha, you will not be angry with me for speaking so openly. I came to you to be cheered, but I am bored here too, something urges me home again. Forgive me, I shall slip away at once.
SASHA. I can understand your trouble, Nicholas. You are unhappy because you are lonely. You need some one at your side whom you can love, someone who understands you.
IVANOFF. What an idea, Sasha! Fancy a crusty old badger like myself starting a love affair! Heaven preserve me from such misfortune! No, my little sage, this is not a case for romance. The fact is, I can endure all I have to suffer: sadness, sickness of mind, ruin, the loss of my wife, and my lonely, broken old age, but I cannot, I will not, endure the contempt I have for myself! I am nearly killed by shame when I think that a strong, healthy man like myself has become — oh, heaven only knows what — by no means a Manfred or a Hamlet! There are some unfortunates who feel flattered when people call them Hamlets and cynics, but to me it is an insult. It wounds my pride and I am tortured by shame and suffer agony.
SASHA. [Laughing through her tears] Nicholas, let us run away to America together!
IVANOFF. I haven’t the energy to take such a step as that, and besides, in