The Collected Works of Anton Chekhov: Plays, Novellas, Short Stories, Diary & Letters. Anton ChekhovЧитать онлайн книгу.
IVANOFF. There is no need of a duel. All you need is a head on your shoulders and a knowledge of the Russian language.
SASHA. [Walks up and down in great excitement] This is dreadful, dreadful! Absolutely childish.
LEBEDIEFF. Listen to me, Nicholas; from your point of view what you are doing is quite right and proper, according to the rules of psychology, but I think this affair is a scandal and a great misfortune. I am an old man; hear me out for the last time. This is what I want to say to you: calm yourself; look at things simply, as every one else does; this is a simple world. The ceiling is white; your boots are black; sugar is sweet. You love Sasha and she loves you. If you love her, stay with her; if you don’t, leave her. We shan’t blame you. It is all perfectly simple. You are two healthy, intelligent, moral young people; thank God, you both have food and clothing — what more do you want? What if you have no money? That is no great misfortune — happiness is not bought with wealth. Of course your estate is mortgaged, Nicholas, as I know, and you have no money to pay the interest on the debt, but I am Sasha’s father. I understand. Her mother can do as she likes — if she won’t give any money, why, confound her, then she needn’t, that’s all! Sasha has just said that she does not want her part of it. As for your principles, Schopenhauer and all that, it is all folly. I have one hundred thousand roubles in the bank. [Looking around him] Not a soul in the house knows it; it was my grandmother’s money. That shall be for you both. Take it, give Matthew two thousand —
[The guests begin to collect in the ballroom].
IVANOFF. It is no use discussing it any more, I must act as my conscience bids me.
SASHA. And I shall act as my conscience bids me — you may say what you please; I refuse to let you go! I am going to call my mother.
LEBEDIEFF. I am utterly puzzled.
IVANOFF. Listen to me, poor old friend. I shall not try to explain myself to you. I shall not tell you whether I am honest or a rascal, healthy or mad; you wouldn’t understand me. I was young once; I have been eager and sincere and intelligent. I have loved and hated and believed as no one else has. I have worked and hoped and tilted against windmills with the strength of ten — not sparing my strength, not knowing what life was. I shouldered a load that broke my back. I drank, I worked, I excited myself, my energy knew no bounds. Tell me, could I have done otherwise? There are so few of us and so much to do, so much to do! And see how cruelly fate has revenged herself on me, who fought with her so bravely! I am a broken man. I am old at thirty. I have submitted myself to old age. With a heavy head and a sluggish mind, weary, used up, discouraged, without faith or love or an object in life, I wander like a shadow among other men, not knowing why I am alive or what it is that I want. Love seems to me to be folly, caresses false. I see no sense in working or playing, and all passionate speeches seem insipid and tiresome. So I carry my sadness with me wherever I go; a cold weariness, a discontent, a horror of life. Yes, I am lost for ever and ever. Before you stands a man who at thirty-five is disillusioned, wearied by fruitless efforts, burning with shame, and mocking at his own weakness. Oh, how my pride rebels against it all! What mad fury chokes me! [He staggers] I am staggering — my strength is failing me. Where is Matthew? Let him take me home.
[Voices from the ballroom] The best man has arrived!
Enter SHABELSKI.
SHABELSKI. In an old worn-out coat — without gloves! How many scornful glances I get for it! Such silly jokes and vulgar grins! Disgusting people.
Enter BORKIN quickly. He is carrying a bunch of flowers and is in a dress-coat. He wears a flower in his buttonhole.
BORKIN. This is dreadful! Where is he? [To IVANOFF] They have been waiting for you for a long time in the church, and here you are talking philosophy! What a funny chap you are. Don’t you know you must not go to church with the bride, but alone, with me? I shall then come back for her. Is it possible you have not understood that? You certainly are an extraordinary man!
Enter LVOFF.
LVOFF. [To IVANOFF] Ah! So you are here? [Loudly] Nicholas Ivanoff, I denounce you to the world as a scoundrel!
IVANOFF. [Coldly] Many thanks!
BORKIN. [To LVOFF] Sir, this is dastardly! I challenge you to a duel!
LVOFF. Monsieur Borkin, I count it a disgrace not only to fight with you, but even to talk to you! Monsieur Ivanoff, however, can receive satisfaction from me whenever he chooses!
SHABELSKI. Sir, I shall fight you!
SASHA. [To LVOFF] Why, oh why, have you insulted him? Gentlemen, I beg you, let him tell me why he has insulted him.
LVOFF. Miss Sasha, I have not insulted him without cause. I came here as a man of honour, to open your eyes, and I beg you to listen to what I have to tell you.
SASHA. What can you possibly have to tell me? That you are a man of honour? The whole world knows it. You had better tell me on your honour whether you understand what you have done or not. You have come in here as a man of honour and have insulted him so terribly that you have nearly killed me. When you used to follow him like a shadow and almost keep him from living, you were convinced that you were doing your duty and that you were acting like a man of honour. When you interfered in his private affairs, maligned him and criticised him; when you sent me and whomever else you could, anonymous letters, you imagined yourself to be an honourable man! And, thinking that that too was honourable, you, a doctor, did not even spare his dying wife or give her a moment’s peace from your suspicions. And no matter what violence, what cruel wrong you committed, you still imagined yourself to be an unusually honourable and clear-sighted man.
IVANOFF. [Laughing] This is not a wedding, but a parliament! Bravo! Bravo!
SASHA. [To LVOFF] Now, think it over! Do you see what sort of a man you are, or not? Oh, the stupid, heartless people! [Takes IVANOFF by the hand] Come away from here Nicholas! Come, father, let us go!
IVANOFF. Where shall we go? Wait a moment. I shall soon put an end to the whole thing. My youth is awake in me again; the former Ivanoff is here once more.
[He takes out a revolver.]
SASHA. [Shrieking] I know what he wants to do! Nicholas, for God’s sake!
IVANOFF. I have been slipping downhill long enough. Now, halt! It is time to know what honour is. Out of the way! Thank you, Sasha!
SASHA. [Shrieking] Nicholas! For God’s sake hold him!
IVANOFF. Let go! [He rushes aside, and shoots himself.]
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
THE ANNIVERSARY or, THE FESTIVITIES [trans. by Julius West]
CHARACTERS
ANDREY ANDREYEVITCH SHIPUCHIN, Chairman of the N —— Joint Stock Bank, a middle-aged man, with a monocle
TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA, his wife, aged 25
KUSMA NICOLAIEVITCH KHIRIN, the bank’s aged bookkeeper
NASTASYA FYODOROVNA MERCHUTKINA, an old woman wearing an old-fashioned cloak
DIRECTORS OF THE BANK
EMPLOYEES OF THE BANK
The action takes place at the Bank
THE ANNIVERSARY
[The private office of the Chairman of Directors. On the left is a door, leading into the public department. There are two desks. The furniture aims at a deliberately luxurious effect, with armchairs covered in velvet, flowers, statues, carpets, and a telephone. It is midday. KHIRIN is alone; he wears long felt boots, and is shouting through the door.]
KHIRIN. Send out to the chemist for 15 copecks’ worth of valerian drops, and tell them to