Ivanov

Act Three

Ivanov’s study. A desk on which papers, books, official packages and knick-knacks and revolvers lie in disorder; among the papers is a lamp, a carafe of vodka, a plate with salted herrings, pieces of bread and pickled cucumbers. On the walls, maps, pictures, guns, pistols, sickles, whips and so on. Midday.

Shabelsky and Lebedev sit on either side of the desk. Borkin is in the middle of the stage, astride a chair. They sprawl, somewhat in their cups, like lords of the earth, ruling on the great issues of the world. Pyotr stands by the door.

LebedevNow France . . . France has a clear-cut and definite policy . . . Your Frenchy knows what he wants. He wants to kick the tripes out of your German sausage-maker, simple as that. But Germany’s whistling a different tune, my friend. Germany has plenty of other geese to cook besides France.

ShabelskyYou’re talking rubbish. If you ask me, the Germans are cowards, and so are the French. They’re pulling faces behind each other’s backs, but take my word for it, that’s as far as it will go. They won’t fight.

BorkinBut what I’m saying is, there’s no need to fight. All these rearmament congresses and vast expenditure . . . it’s completely unnecessary. You know what I’d do? Round up every dog in the country, give ‘em a good dose of rabies and let them loose across the border. The enemy will be frothing at the mouth in a month.

Lebedev(laughs) There’s a billion brilliant ideas swimming about in that little head, one for every fish in the ocean.

ShabelskyHe’s a genius.

LebedevGod bless you, Michel Michelich! You’re a hoot. (Soberly.) However, gentlemen, here we are jawing away and hardly a mention of vodka. Repetatur!

He fills three glasses.

Here’s to us.

They drink and eat.

Salted herring, Lord love it – greatest snack there is.

ShabelskyNo – cucumber. The best minds have been thinking about this since the world began and they haven’t come up with anything to beat a pickled cucumber. (To Pyotr.) We need more cucumbers, Pyotr, and tell the kitchen to do four onion pasties. Make sure they’re hot.

Pyotr goes out.

LebedevAnother snack vodka’s good with is caviar. I’ll tell you what, though, it requires intelligence. You take four ounces of caviar, two spring onions, some olive oil, mix it well and serve with a squeeze of lemon. The aroma by itself is enough to make you swoon.

BorkinTo follow a shot of vodka, fried gudgeon makes a nice little snack, I find. Only, you have to know how to fry it. You clean it, dip it in breadcrumbs, and fry till crisp – it’s got to be crunchy to the bite, crunch, crunch.

ShabelskyThat was a good snack at Babakina’s yesterday – white mushrooms.

LebedevOh, yes, indeed –

ShabelskyBut to a special recipe, you know, with onion, bay leaf, different kinds of herbs . . . The steam when they took the lid off the pan had a fragrance that was pure joy.

LebedevWho’s for another? Repetatur, gentlemen!

They drink.

Good health. (Looks at his pocket watch.) I’m going to miss Nicolas by the look of it. I must be going. So – white mushrooms at Babakina’s, is it? Is that why you’ve taken to calling on Marfutka all the time?

Shabelsky(nods at Borkin) It’s him – he wants to marry me off to her.

LebedevReally? . . . How old are you?

ShabelskySixty-two.

LebedevJust the right age for marriage. And Marfa’s just the woman for you.

BorkinThis is not about Marfutka, it’s about Marfutka’s cash in the bank.

LebedevIs that all you’re after? You might as well ask a goose for its liver.

BorkinJust wait till he’s married, it’ll be goose liver galore and you’ll be licking your lips in envy.

ShabelskyMy God, he’s serious. This genius here really thinks I’m going to do what he says and get married.

BorkinWhat do you mean? You’re already sold on it, aren’t you?

ShabelskyYou must be off your head . . . When was I ever sold on it?

BorkinWell, thanks very much! You mean you’re going to back out? First he’ll marry her, then he won’t marry her . . . Let the devil work it out. And I’ve given her my solemn word. So you won’t marry her, is that it?

Shabelsky(shrugs his shoulders) He’s serious. Extraordinary chap.

Borkin(indignant) If that’s the case, what was the point of getting an honest woman all excited for nothing? She’s mad keen to be a Countess, she can’t sleep or eat. Is that your idea of honourable behaviour?

Shabelsky(snaps his fingers) All right then, supposing I take the plunge into this dung-hill . . . eh? Just for the hell of it. Yes, all right. I’ll do it. Word of honour. What a lark.

Lvov enters.

LebedevAh, Aesculapius, we’re honoured . . . (Shakes hands with Lvov and sings.) ’Oh save me, Doctor, dear Doctor, I’m dying and scared to death . . .’

LvovIsn’t Ivanov here?

LebedevNot yet – I’ve been over an hour waiting for him, too.

Lvov paces up and down the stage impatiently.

LebedevHow is Anna Petrovna?

LvovShe’s bad.

Lebedev(sighs) Would it be all right to look in on her, just to show we –

LvovNo, please don’t. I think she’s asleep now.

Pause.

LebedevShe’s a nice woman, I like her . . . (Sighs.) When she fell down in a faint that day on Sasha’s birthday, I took one look at her face and I knew she hadn’t got long. I never understood what made her faint just then. I run in, I take one look, there she is, pale as death, lying on the floor, Nikolay on his knees beside her, also gone white, and Shurochka in tears. It shook us up for a week.

Shabelsky(to Lvov) Here’s one for you, as one of the medical priesthood. Who’s the genius who worked out that women with bad chests might benefit from frequent visits from a young doctor? It’s a great discovery. A breakthrough. Does it come under homeopathy or allopathy, would you say?

Lvov makes to answer, but gestures contemptuously and goes out.

What’s known as a withering look.

LebedevStill, that was uncalled for. Why insult him?

Shabelsky(irritably) Because he’s a liar. ‘Tuberculosis – no hope – death’s door’ . . . It’s just lies and I won’t have it.

LebedevWhat makes you think he’s lying?

Shabelsky(stands up and walks around) I refuse to accept that somebody all of a sudden and for no particular reason can just die. Can we drop the subject?

Kosykh runs in, catching his breath.

KosykhIs Nikolay Alekseevich here? Good morning, good day, everyone.

He quickly shakes hands with everyone.

Is he at home?

BorkinNo, he isn’t.

Kosykh(sits down and then jumps up) In that case, I’m off! (Drinks a shot of vodka and takes a snack.) Must get on. Things to do . . . I’m so tired I can barely stand.

LebedevWhere’ve you come from?

KosykhBarabanov’s. Been playing cards all night, just finished. Lost my shirt. That Barabanov plays like a blacksmith. (In a tearful voice.) Just listen to this. I was holding hearts from the off.

He turns to Borkin, who jumps back from him.

He leads diamonds – I follow with hearts – and he plays another diamond! I didn’t get a trick. (To Lebedev.) We play four clubs. I had ace, queen, five, and in spades, ace, ten, two . . .

Lebedev(stops his ears) Spare me, for the love of Christ!

Kosykh(to the Count) You understand. Ace, queen and five of clubs – ace, ten and two of spades –

Shabelsky(pushes him away) Go away. I’m not listening.

KosykhAnd then disaster – my ace of spades trumped in the first round –

Shabelsky(grabs a revolver from the table) Go away or I’ll shoot!

KosykhBloody hell, can’t one even have a conversation? It’s like living in Australia. No community spirit, every man for himself. Anyway, I’ve got to go – (Grabs his cap.) time is precious –

He gives Lebedev his hand.

Pass!

Laughter. Kosykh goes out and in the doorway bumps into Avdotya.

Avdotya(shrieks) Hey you! You nearly knocked me off my feet!

AllAh – here she is again – you can’t get away from her! She’s everywhere!

Avdotya(shaking hands) So this is where you’ve got to. I’ve been all round the house. Hello all, you young hawks – bon appétit.

LebedevWhat brings you?

AvdotyaBusiness, my friend! (To the Count.) Concerning you, Your Excellency. (Bows.) I was told to give you her regards and enquire after your health . . . and I have orders from my little darling to tell you if you don’t come to see her this evening, she’ll cry her little eyes out. She says to me, ‘Get him alone, my dear, whisper it in secret.’ But we’re not stealing the chickens, it’s all above board and true love on both sides – so what’s the big secret? I never touch a drop, sinner though I am, but on an occasion like this, I think I’ll have one.

LebedevSo will I. (Pours out.) You haven’t changed, you old hen – I remember you as an old lady thirty years ago.

AvdotyaI’ve lost count of my years . . . I buried two husbands and would have married again if I’d found someone to take me without a dowry. I’ve had eight children, too . . . (Takes the glass.) Anyway, we got off to a good start with this business, and God willing we’ll end it well. They’ll be happy enough, and we’ll look on and be happy for them. Here’s to love and good friends to help it run smooth. (Drinks.) I say, this vodka’s strong stuff.

Shabelsky(laughing loudly, to Lebedev) And, you know, the remarkable thing is, they seriously think I’m going to . . . Amazing! (Stands up.) All the same, Pasha, should we go ahead with the dirty deed, eh? – just for the hell of it? How about it, then, you old dog, what do you say, Pasha?

LebedevYou’re not making any sense. Our only business – yours and mine – is to prepare our minds for falling off the bucket – for kicking up the daisies – you see what I’m saying, it’s all too late for us and Marfa’s millions.

ShabelskyYes – I’m going to do it. My word of honour, I’ll do it.

Enter Ivanov and Lvov.

LvovI just need you for five minutes.

LebedevNicolas! (Goes to meet Ivanov and kisses him.) Hello, my dear chap . . . I’ve been waiting an hour for you.

Avdotya(bows) Good day, Your Honour.

Ivanov(annoyed) You’ve turned my office into a bar room again, I’ve asked you a thousand times not to do this.

He goes over to the desk.

Look at this – you’ve spilled vodka all over my papers – crumbs, cucumbers . . . it’s disgusting, it really is!

Pyotr enters with a plate of pasties.*

Pyotr(entering) Pasties.

IvanovWhat?

PyotrOnion pasties. The Count . . .

ShabelskyAre they hot?

Ivanov snatches the plate and flings it at the wall. Pyotr leaves. Ivanov stands trembling.

LebedevIt’s all my fault, Nicolas . . . I’m sorry. But I need to have a chat about something of great importance.

BorkinSo do I.

LvovIvanov, may I have a word with you?

Ivanov(to Lebedev) What is it?

LebedevWould you mind . . .? Gentlemen, I need to speak to Nicolas in private.

The Count goes out with Avdotya, followed by Borkin and Lvov.

IvanovPasha, you can drink as much as you like, it’s your funeral, but I ask you not to encourage my uncle. He never used to drink, and it’s not good for him.

Lebedev(alarmed) My dear fellow, I had no idea – I wasn’t even paying attention . . .

IvanovIf that old booby died on you, God forbid . . . So what do you want?

Pause.

LebedevWell, let’s see . . . I don’t know how to start, I don’t want it to come out all tactless – this is so embarrassing. I’m all tongue-tied, but, dear friend, put yourself in my place – you have to see I’m just an errand boy, a doormat – forgive me –

IvanovWhat are you talking about?

LebedevMy wife sent me. Do me a favour, as a friend, please pay the interest! I’m worn out with her nagging me about it – For God’s sake get her off my back – pay her!

IvanovPasha, you know I’ve got nothing to pay with at the moment.

LebedevI know, I know, but what am I supposed to do? She won’t wait. If she takes you to court, Sasha and I will never be able to meet your eye ever again.

IvanovI feel so ashamed, Pavel, I wish the earth would just swallow me up. But where am I to get the money? Just tell me. There’s nothing for it but to wait till I can sell the grain in autumn.

Lebedev(shouts) She won’t wait!

Pause.

IvanovIt’s an awkward situation for you, but mine is worse. There’s nothing I can think of . . . nothing I could sell . . .

LebedevMilbach owes you sixteen thousand, you must go and ask him.

Ivanov flaps his arm in a hopeless gesture.

All right, here’s what, Nicky . . . I know you’ll start objecting but . . . just humour an old soak, between friends, all right? Look on me as a friend. We were students together, liberals together, we had the same ideas. Moscow University is our alma mater –

He takes out his wallet.

So, look, here – I’ve got a secret stash, no one at home knows about it. Take it as a loan.

He takes out money and lays it on the table.

Swallow your pride and take it as an act of friendship. I’d do the same for you, cross my heart.

Pause.

Here it is on the table. Eleven hundred. You can drive over today and hand it to her in person. ‘Here you are, Zinaida Saveshna, ‘ you can say, ‘and may it choke you!’ Only, for God’s sake don’t let on you borrowed it from me, or I’ll be gooseberry jam. (Stares at Ivanov’s face.) All right, all right, no need for that -

He quickly takes the money from the table and puts it back in his pocket.

Forget it – I was only joking. I’m sorry, oh Christ, I’m really sorry!

Pause.

It’s all getting you down, isn’t it?

Ivanov waves his hand dismissively.

I know, what a business . . . (Sighs.) A time of pain and sorrow. You know, old friend, a man is like a samovar. For much of the time he’s put away on the kitchen shelf, cold and empty, but there comes the moment when he’s taken down, filled with hot coals and – psht, psht – he’s in business! Actually a man is not like a samovar, you’re right, it’s balls, I just couldn’t think of anything a man is like. (Sighs.) Ill fortune tempers the soul. I’m not offering you my pity, Nikolay, you’ll bounce back and things will come right. But I get angry when I hear what people are saying. It hurts me. Can you please tell me what’s behind this gossip about you? There are so many rumours going around the district, one half expects you to be arrested. People are saying you’re a murderer, a bloodsucker, a robber. . .

IvanovIt’s all nonsense . . . and I’ve got a headache.

LebedevThat’s from thinking too much.

IvanovI’m not thinking anything at all.

LebedevAnyway, don’t take any notice of all that – come over to us. Shurochka is fond of you, she appreciates you. She’s a good honest girl, Nikolay. Unlike her mother. Or her father. Perhaps he was a passing stranger . . . Sometimes I look at her and I can’t believe an old soak with this drunk’s nose on my face could own such a treasure. Drive over and have some intelligent conversation, you’ll enjoy it. She’s a true friend to you.

Pause.

IvanovPasha, my dear chap, leave me alone . . .

LebedevFair enough, quite understand . . .

He hurriedly looks at his watch and kisses Ivanov.

Goodbye, I have to go, they’re consecrating the new school.

He goes towards the door and stops.

She’s so clever. Yesterday we were talking and she came out with a gem: ‘Daddy dear – they say glow-worms shine in the dark so the night-birds can see to eat them. Well, good people exist for the same reason, to be easy meat for gossip and slander.’ What do you think of that? Another George Sand!

IvanovPasha! (Stops him.) What’s wrong with me?

LebedevThat’s what I’ve been wanting to ask you, but frankly I was too embarrassed. I wish I knew, old chap! On one hand it looks as if it’s just bad luck getting the better of you. On the other hand you don’t seem to be the sort to lie down under your troubles. So I don’t think it’s that, but I don’t know what it can be exactly.

IvanovI don’t know either. Sometimes I think –

Pause.

Well, what I was going to say was . . . I used to have a workman called Semyon, you remember him – well, at threshing time once, to show how strong he was, to impress the girls, he hoisted two sacks of rye on his back and something gave way inside. He died not long after. That’s what it feels like with me. First there was school, then university, then farming, then starting up the village school and all sorts of projects . . . I had different ideas from other people, didn’t marry the usual kind of girl, got carried away by things, took risks, threw my money away, as you well know . . . I’ve had more good times and bad times than any man in the district. These were my sacks of rye, Pasha. I hoisted them up and something gave way inside. When we’re twenty there’s nothing we can’t take on, we’re all heroes, and at forty we’ve had it, no good for anything. What’s the reason for this utter weariness? Well, anyway, that’s probably not what it was at all. Go on now, Pasha – goodbye and God be with you, I didn’t mean to bore you.

Lebedev(eagerly) Do you know what I think? You need a change of scenery.

IvanovThat’s silly, and not very original. Off you go!

LebedevYes, that was really silly. Very, very silly, I can see that. I’m off – I’m going . . .

Lebedev leaves.

Ivanov(aside) Well, what a miserable, pathetic, contemptible creature I am! Only somebody as sozzled and played out as Pasha could have any respect left for me. Oh God, how I despise myself! I hate the sound of my voice, my footsteps, hate my hands, these clothes, my very thoughts . . . It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? – It’s infuriating. Hardly a year ago I was a fit man, cheerful, always on the go . . . I was good with my hands, I could talk to bring tears to the eyes, even of some loutish peasant. I could weep myself when I saw suffering – and get angry when I saw wickedness. I knew inspiration, knew the charm and poetry of quiet nights when I’d work at my desk till dawn, or let my mind go wandering. I had faith, I looked at the future as trustfully as I’d look into my mother’s eyes . . . and now, oh God, I’m so tired, I believe in nothing, idling away the nights. My brain, my hands, my feet won’t do what I tell them. The estate is going to ruin, the woods fall to the axe. (Weeps.) My land looks back at me like an abandoned child. I’m not hoping for anything, I’m not sorry for anything, and I dread every new day. And then there’s Anna. I’ve watched her fading away, worn away by her feelings of guilt, and still – God knows – never a glance or a word of reproach! And now I’ve fallen out of love. How? Why? What for? I just don’t understand it. And here she is, dying in pain, and here am I, running away from her pale face, her sunken chest, her pleading eyes, like a complete coward. It’s beyond shame.

Pause.

And now Sasha – a mere child . . . feeling sorry for me and thinking she’s in love with me – and suddenly I’m intoxicated, I forget everything, like someone carried away by a piece of Beethoven or something, shouting about happiness and a new life, and next moment I have about as much belief in this happy new life as I have in fairies. What is wrong with me?! What is this edge I’m pushing myself over? Why am I so helpless? What’s happening to my nerves? If my sick wife says a word out of place, or a servant annoys me, or a book goes missing, I explode, I’m horrible to everyone, I don’t recognise myself any more.

Pause.

I simply don’t know what’s going on with me. I might just as well put a bullet in my head!

Lvov enters.

LvovWe have to have a few words, Nikolay Alekseevich!

IvanovIf we’re going to have to have a few words every time we meet, it’ll be more than flesh and blood can stand.

LvovWill you listen to me?

IvanovI listen to you every day, and so far I haven’t understood a thing. What exactly do you want from me?

LvovI always express myself precisely and clearly. Only someone whose heart is closed could fail to understand me.

IvanovI understand that my wife hasn’t got long to live. I understand that I am irredeemably guilty. I understand that you are an honest, upright fellow. What else do you want to tell me?

LvovI find human cruelty shocking, you know. The woman is dying, and you openly and for reasons obvious to everybody abandon her every day to go over to those Lebedevs.

IvanovAs a matter of fact, I haven’t been there for two weeks.

Lvov(not listening to him) With people like you, one has to speak plainly and get straight to the point, and if you don’t like it, don’t listen. I’m used to calling things by their proper name. You need her to die so that you can move on to fresh conquests. So be it, but can’t you show a little patience? Do you think you’ll lose the Lebedev girl if you let death take its natural course – instead of harrying your wife to the grave with your bare-faced cynicism? You’ll have no trouble turning some young woman’s head for a dowry, so what’s the hurry? Why do you need your wife to die now and not in a month or a year?

IvanovThis is unbearable. You’re a pretty poor doctor if you think a man can control himself indefinitely – I’m making a huge effort not to give your insults the answer they deserve.

LvovOh, you can drop that pose, Pushkin! I’m not taken in by it.

IvanovIf you’re so clever, consider for a moment. You think it’s a simple matter to understand me, do you? I married Anna for her money; I didn’t get any of it, so now I’m hastening her death so I can try someone else. Simple! What a simple machine is man. But there’s too many cogs and springs and wheels within wheels for such easy judgements. I don’t understand what’s going on inside you; you don’t understand me, and neither of us understands himself.

LvovDo you really think you’re so complicated, and I’m so simple, that I don’t know wickedness when I see it?

IvanovIt’s a waste of breath. So for the last time, and without going off at a tangent, tell me exactly what you want me to do. What are you driving at? And, incidentally, am I addressing the public prosecutor or my wife’s doctor?

LvovI am a doctor, and as a doctor I ask you to amend your behaviour. It’s killing your wife.

IvanovBut what do you wish me to do? If you know something about me that I don’t, just spell it out.

LvovAt least don’t be so indiscreet about . . . you know who I mean.

Ivanov(enlightened) God Almighty, do you know what you’re saying? Get out. I’m a sinner a thousand times over, but I’ll answer to God. No one has given you the right to hound me day after day.

LvovAnd who gave you the right to destroy my belief in human nature? Until I met you, I could accept that people can lose their minds and do wicked things when they couldn’t help themselves, but I never knew there were wicked people who could consciously and wilfully commit evil. You’ve poisoned my faith in humanity.

IvanovYou should see a doctor.

Lvov sees Sasha entering; she is in a riding habit.

LvovReally? Well, now I hope we understand each other perfectly!

He shrugs his shoulders and goes out.

Ivanov(alarmed) Sasha – what are you doing here?

SashaHello. Did you think I wouldn’t come? Why have you kept away all this time?

IvanovSasha, for God’s sake, this is crazy. If my wife knew you were here, it would be the finish of her.

SashaShe won’t see me. I came in the back way. I’ll only stay a minute. I was worried about you. Are you all right? Why haven’t you come to see us?

IvanovMy wife is upset with me as it is, she’s almost dead and you show up here! Oh, Sasha, that was thoughtless and selfish.

SashaWhat else could I do? I haven’t seen you for two weeks, and you haven’t answered my letters. I was at my wits’ end. You could have been ill or dead for all I knew. I’ve hardly slept. Well, I’ll go now – just tell me you’re all right.

IvanovWell, I’m not, I’m exhausted. People won’t leave me alone. I’m out flat. And now you show up. This is all wrong, it’s not right. Oh, Sasha, I’m to blame for everything!

SashaHow you love to say all these doomy things. Blame for what? What are you supposed to have done?

IvanovI don’t know, I don’t know . . .

SashaThat’s no answer. You must know what you feel guilty about. Have you been forging banknotes or what?

IvanovDon’t joke.

SashaAre you guilty of not loving your wife any more? I don’t see how that’s your fault, you didn’t want to stop loving her. Or do you feel guilty because she saw us when I told you I loved you? – but you didn’t ask for that to happen either.

Ivanov(interrupting) And on and on . . . I fell in love, fell out of love, didn’t want to stop loving her . . . One shop-worn banality after another, none of it helps –

SashaIt’s so tiring talking to you. (Looks at a picture on the wall.) I like the painting of the dog. Was it done from life?

IvanovYes, it was. And our love affair is banality from beginning to end. He had lost heart, he felt himself drowning – then she appeared, so full of life and strength, and held out her hand to him . . . Very nice, but it’s only in novels, not life.

SashaIt’s life, too.

IvanovOh, I can see what a profound knowledge you have of real life. My moping around moves you to admiration and awe, you think you’ve found your very own Hamlet. As far as I’m concerned, my case and all its symptoms are the stuff of comedy and nothing more. People should be laughing themselves silly at my carrying on – but not you, you want to leap to my rescue, and save me by some act of heroism. God, I’m in such a fury with myself today, something’s got to give – maybe I’ll smash something or . . .

SashaThat’s it, that’s just what you should do – break something, smash up the place, scream your head off. You’re angry with me. It was stupid of me to come. So get angry, shout at me, stamp your feet, what are you waiting for?

Pause.

Well?

IvanovYou’re very funny.

SashaBetter! I think I saw a smile. Could you manage another. Just to please me?

Ivanov(laughs) Whenever you start trying to save me, your eyes become wide and so deep, as though you were gazing at a comet. Don’t move, your shoulder is all dusty. There. A man with that look looks like a cretin, but women have a way of making it seem kind and warm, instead of moronic. Why do you girls always turn aside healthy, cheerful men and as soon as they start going downhill you’re all over them. Is it really better to be a sick-nurse to a bleating failure than to be married to some fit, strong fellow . . .?

SashaYes, much better.

IvanovWhy?

SashaThere’s a lot that men don’t understand. Every girl is drawn to a man who needs her, because what we’re looking for is love that gives us something to do. Not passive love. Do you see? Active love. Men put their work first, love has to take second place – a chat, a walk in the garden, some pleasant times, a few tears on her grave, and that’s about it. But for us, love is the reason for living. Loving you means dreaming of curing you of your unhappiness, of following you to the ends of the earth. Where you go, there I’ll go – to the mountaintop or into the abyss. I’d love more than anything to spend all night doing your paperwork for you, or to walk by your side for miles and miles. Once, about three years ago, at harvest time, you showed up all covered in dust and sunburnt, you were exhausted, and you asked for a drink of water. I brought you a glass, but you were stretched out on the sofa, dead to the world. You slept the whole day, and I stood by the door keeping watch so that no one came in. I felt so happy. The more you do for love, the more love you feel.

IvanovActive love . . . huh! . . . Is it a mutation? – a schoolgirl’s daydream? – or is it love as love ought to be? (Shrugs his shoulders.) Who knows? (Cheerfully.) Sasha, God’s truth, as a man I’m as decent as the next. I know I sound off on all kinds of things but never in my life have I said, ‘Our women have got something wrong with them, ‘ or, ‘That woman there is going to come to no good.’ Heavens, all I feel is gratitude for them. You’re a dear, good girl, and you cheer me up, too. (Walks quickly off to one side.) You’ve got to go, Sasha! We’re forgetting ourselves.

SashaYes, it’s time to go. I’m afraid that honest doctor of yours might think it’s his duty to tell Anna Petrovna I’m here. Listen – go to your wife – now, this minute – and sit by her and keep sitting by her – for a year if you have to – or ten years. Be sad with her, beg her forgiveness, cry with her. Do your duty. And – most important – don’t neglect your work!

IvanovNot for the first time, I feel I’ve eaten the wrong kind of mushroom.

SashaWell, God bless you, Nikolay! Put me out of your head. Write me a line in a couple of weeks – I’d be grateful. I’ll write to you, too . . .

Borkin looks in through the door.

BorkinNikolay, may I? (Seeing Sasha.) Oh, excuse me – (Comes in.) Bon jour! (Bows.)

Sasha(embarrassed) Hello.

BorkinYou’ve put on weight, pretty one, it suits you.

Sasha(to Ivanov) Well, I’ll be going now, Nikolay Alekseevich . . . I’m off.

Sasha leaves.

BorkinShe’s a vision! I came on a prosaic matter of business and found poetry. (Sings.) ’You appeared like a bird towards the light . . .’

Ivanov walks up and down the stage agitatedly. Borkin sits down.

She’s got something about her the others haven’t got – don’t you think so, Nicolas? Something special, something not of this world . . . (Sighs.) As it happens, she’s the richest match in the district, but her mama is such an old bag, no one is willing to pop the question. Everything will go to Shurochka, but till then – ten thousand and a couple of ladles, and she’ll have to beg for that. (Rummages in his pocket.) Care for a cigar? De los Majores. (Holds out his cigar case.) They’re good.

Ivanov goes up to Borkin, catching his breath with rage.

IvanovGet out of this house, this instant!

Borkin pulls himself up slightly and drops his cigar.

Out! Now!

BorkinNicolas, what does this mean? Are you angry about something?

IvanovWhere did you get hold of those cigars? And don’t think I don’t know where you take that old man every day, and what you do there!

Borkin(shrugs his shoulders) And what’s that got to do with you?

IvanovYou bastard! You’ve given me a bad name all over the district with your crooked schemes. We have nothing in common and I’m asking you to leave my house right this minute.

BorkinI’m not angry with you, because I know you don’t mean it; you’re just irritable about something. Insult me as much as you like. (Picks up the cigar.) But it’s about time you got out of your sulk – you’re not a schoolboy.

IvanovDid you hear what I said? Do you think I’m an idiot?

Anna enters.

BorkinWell, your wife’s here now . . . I’ll leave you to it.

Borkin leaves.

Ivanov stops near the table and stands with his bead banging down.

Anna(after a pause) What was she doing here?

Pause.

I said – what was she doing here?

IvanovDon’t ask me to explain, Anyuta.

Pause.

She’s not to blame. You can make me pay any way you like, I won’t complain . . . but don’t ask me about her, I haven’t the strength.

Anna(angrily) Why did she come here?

Pause.

So now I know. Now at last I know what kind of man you are. A man without honour. Everything you told me about truth and goodness and your high-minded plans was a lie, and I believed every word . . .

IvanovAnyuta, I have never lied to you.

AnnaI’ve lived with you for five years, I’ve been sick with anguish about giving up my faith, but I loved you and never stopped loving you for a single minute. I idolised you. And all for what? You were deceiving me the whole time and not caring who knew it.

IvanovAnyuta, don’t say things which aren’t true. I made mistakes, I know, but I’ve never told a lie in my life . . . Don’t you dare accuse me of that.

AnnaEverything’s clear now. You married me thinking my parents would forgive me and you’d get a large dowry – that’s what you thought.

IvanovOh God, not you too!

AnnaBe quiet! When you realised there wasn’t going to be any money . . . you had to think again . . . I can see it all now. (Weeps.) You never loved me and were never faithful to me – never! . . .

IvanovAnna, that’s not true! Say anything you like, but don’t insult my honour with these lies.

AnnaYou have no honour to insult, you’re a swine. You owe money to Lebedev and to get out of paying you’re trying to seduce his daughter – to deceive her just like you deceived me. That’s the truth, isn’t it?

IvanovStop it, for God’s sake! I won’t answer you, you’re making me so angry I’ll say something I’ll wish I hadn’t.

AnnaIt’s not just me you’ve managed to fool –

IvanovAnna, please stop it –

AnnaAll those shady deals you blame on Borkin –

IvanovLeave me alone or I won’t be responsible for what I say –

AnnaIt wasn’t Borkin –

IvanovI mean it, I’m just about ready to –

AnnaIt was you all the time –

IvanovOh, shut up, you silly yid, just –

AnnaNo, I won’t shut up! It’s too late for that –

IvanovWon’t you? Oh – God –

Anna– so you might as well go over to the Lebedevs and carry on making a fool of him –

Ivanov(cries out) What do you care?! – You’re a dead woman! The doctor says you’ll be dead before . . . before . . .

Anna sits down. Her voice drops.

AnnaWhen did he say that?

Pause.

IvanovThat’s the worst thing I’ve ever done.

Ivanov sobs.

End of Act Three.

* The re-entrance of Pyotr with the onion pasties – though at a later moment in the scene – was the irresistible innovation of David Hare’s translation for Jonathan Kent’s production of Ivanov at the Almeida Theatre, London (1997).