Complete Works of Anton Chekhov

SCENE IV

THE SAME, ZHELTOUKHIN AND JULIE

ZHELTOUKHIN: How do you do, all? (Greeting them.)

JULIE: How do you do, godpa dear? (Kissing him.)

How do you do, Fedya? (Kissing him.) How do you do,

George Petrovich? (Kissing him.)

ZHELTOUKHIN: Alexander Vladiniirovich is at home?

ORLOVSKY: Yes. He’s in his study.

ZHELTOUKHIN: I must go to him. He wrote asking to see me on a matter of business. . . . [Goes out.

JULIE: George Petrovieh, did you receive the barley yesterday, for which you asked in your note?

VOYNITSKY: Thanks, I did. How much is it? We also had something from you in the spring. I don’t remember what ... we must settle our accounts. I can’t bear messing up things and postponing settlements.

JULIE: In the spring you had eight quarters of corn, two heifers, a calf, and also butter for your farm hands.

VOYNITSKY: How much does it all come to?

JULIE: How can I say? I can’t say straight away without a counting-board, George Petrovich.

VOYNITSKY: I’ll fetch you a counting-board, if you must have one. . . .

(Goes out and returns with a counting-board.)

ORLOVSKY: Ducky, is your brother quite well?

JULIE: Thank God he is. Godpa dear, where did you buy that nice tie?

ORLOVSKY: In town, at Kirpichov’s.

JULIE: How pretty! I’ll buy one like it for Lennie.

VOYNITSKY: Here’s the counting-board.

(JULIE sits down and raps the beads on the counting-board.)

ORLOVSKY: What a splendid manager God has given Lennie! A wee thing, hardly visible, and see how she works away! See!

FYODOR: Yes, and he’s only lounging about, smoothing his cheek. Idler!

JULIE: Now, you have confused my reckoning.

VOYNITSKY: Come, let’s go to some other room. Into the hall. It’s so dull here. . . . (Yawning.)

ORLOVSKY: Well, let’s go into the hall. ... I don’t mind. . . . [They go out by the left door.

JULIE (alone: after a pause): Fedya dressed as a Circassian. . . That’s what happens when parents fail to give the right direction. There’s no handsomer man in the whole district, clever, rich, and yet no earthly good. . . Hopeless. . .

(Raps on the counting-board.)

ENTER SONYA.