Delphi Complete Works of Anton Chekhov

SCENE IV.

ANNA PETROVNA, VOINITZEV AND BUGROV.

BUGROV (entering). How do you do! I hope you’re well. . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Yes . . . yes . . . yes ... It is terrible. . . .

BUGROV. It’s raining out-of-doors, yet it’s hot... (Wi-pes his forehead.) Whew, I’ve almost roasted coming here... Well, I hope! (Pause.) I’ve come to see you on account of what happened yesterday, when the sales took place, as you know... As regards that, you know it was somewhat hard and shameful for you, and I . . . please don’t take it ill from me. ... It wasn’t me who bought the estate! Abraham Abramitch bought it, but in my name. . . .

VOINITZEV (ringing the bell hard). May the devil take them all!

BUGROV. It’s like that... Don’t think that... No, it wasn’t me. ... It was only bought in my name! (Sits down.) YAKOV (comes in).

VOINITZEV (to Yakov). How often I’ve asked you wretches (coughs) not to admit anyone without an

nouncing the visitor’s name! You ought to be flogged, every man’s son of you! (Flings the bell under the table.) Get out! You wretches! (Paces up and down.)

YAKOV (shrugging his shoulders, goes out).

BUGROV (coughing). Only in my name, you see... Abram Abramitch sends word that you may live here as long as you like, even until Christmas, if need be... There will be certain repairs to be done, but well, they needn’t hinder you... If it comes to that, you can move into the wing... There are many rooms here, and it’s right warm too... He also asked me to ask you if you won’t sell, that is in my name, your mines... The mines are yours, Anna Petrovna. Wouldn’t you like to sell them now? We’ll give you a good price for them. . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. NO... We shan’t sell these mines to one devil or another! What will you give me for them? A farthing? Take the farthing and choke on it!

BUGROV. Abram Abramitch has also asked me to tell you that if it won’t be convenient for you to sell him your mines to cover the debt owed him by Sergey Pavlitch and his dead father, his Excellency Pavel Ivanitch, then he will protest the note. ... I too will protest with him... (Titters.) Friendship’s one thing, money another... Commerce! It’s such an accursed affair. You see ... I bought your notes from Petrin. . . .

VOINITZEV. I’ll not allow anyone to count on my mother’s property! Her property is not mine to sell! And I haven’t time to chatter with you... Do what you like!

ANNA PETROVNA. Leave us in peace, Timofey Gor- deitch! I’m sorry. ... I must ask you to go!

BUGROV. Very well... (Rises.) Don’t be disturbed... You may stay on even till Christmas. Tomorrow or the day after I’ll drop in... Keep well! (Goes away.)

ANNA PETROVNA. Tomorrow we leave this place. Yes, now I remember... Platonov. ... So that’s why he’s running away!

VOINITZEV. Let them do what they like! Let them all run away! I have no wife any longer, and I don’t need anything more! I have no wife, maman!

ANNA PETROVNA. NO, you haven’t a wife any longer... But what did he find in this spiritless woman, Sofya? What could he find in her? How indiscrimi- nating these stupid men can be! They’re capable of diverting themselves with all sorts of rubbish... Why didn’t you keep your eyes on her? Where were your eyes? Cry-baby! You went on whimpering, while someone snatched your wife from under your very nose! And you call yourself a man! . . . Neither you nor Platonov is worth anything! VOINITZEV. Nothing will help now . . . certainly, not your reproaches. She’s no longer mine, and he’s not yours... What good are words here? Leave me in peace, maman!

ANNA PETROVNA. But what’s to be done? Something must be done! We must try to save . . . VOINITZEV. Save whom? I’m the only one to be saved... After all, they’re happy! (He sighs.)

ANNA PETROVNA. You with your logic! It’s they, not you, who ought to be saved! Platonov doesn’t love her! Do you know it? ... He doesn’t love her, I assure you! What did she tell you? Why don’t you answer?

VOINITZEV. She said that she was his mistress.

ANNA PETROVNA. She’s his fool, not his mistress! Be silent! Maybe, it’s still possible to mend matters. Platonov is the sort to raise a rumpus over a mere kiss or pressure of the hand. The affair hasn’t reached the ultimate stage! I’m sure of that...

VOINITZEV. It has reached it.

ANNA PETROVNA. You don’t understand anything! (Enter Grekova.)