The Complete Plays

UNTITLED PLAY

While still in high school Chekhov wrote a four-act play so full of incident, “with horse-stealing, a gunshot, a woman who throws herself under a train,”¹ that a family friend described it as a “drrama,” the two rs bespeaking its sensational quality. The critical consensus today sees it as the early stage of a work that may or may not be identical to a play called Without Patrimony or Disinherited (Bezottsovshchina). The hopeful neophyte sent it to his literary brother Aleksandr in Moscow. He got back a very negative critique, and may either have shelved it or else launched into the work now usually known as Platonov. This play also underwent intense rewriting, probably between 1878 and 1879. Chekhov toned down the dialogue, dropped two characters (Shcherbuk’s ugly daughters), and omitted a lurid scene in which Voinitsev pulls a dagger on Platonov, who disarms him with the shout, “Stand back!” and a torrent of rhetoric. Even with cuts, it was over twice the length of an ordinary play of the period.

Chekhov took it to Mariya Yermolova, one of the stars of Moscow’s Maly Theatre, an ill-considered move since the part suitable for her would have been the merry widow Anna Petrovna. Yermolova, noted for her heroic Joan of Arc, never played roles of sexual laxity. She returned the play, and the chagrined young playwright tore up the manuscript. However, his younger brother Mikhail had made two copies for submission to the censorship; and one of these survived in a safety-deposit box, to be published in 1923. Since then, actors and producers have tried to reconstitute it for the stage as a “newly discovered play by Chekhov.” Cut to the bone and drastically rewritten, it was first staged in German as Der unnützige Mensch Platonoff (The Superfluous Man Platonov) in 1928, and since then has appeared as A Country Scandal, A Provincial Don Juan, Ce Fou Platonov, Fireworks on the James, Untitled Play, Comédie russe, Wild Honey (Michael Frayn’s version), Player Piano (Trevor Griffith’s version), and Platonov (David Hare’s version). None of these adaptations has managed to secure a place for the protracted piece of juvenilia in the repertory. Its interest lies primarily in its being a storehouse of Chekhov’s later themes and characters: the cynical doctor, the cynosure attractive woman, the parasitic buffoons, the practical housewife, and the failed idealist. Most intricately reworked of all, the threat of losing the estate to debts was to become the connecting thread and constitutive symbol of The Cherry Orchard.

The characters are neatly divided into debtors and creditors. The older generation corrupts and suborns the younger generation through mortgages, loans, bribes, and gifts. Many of them are shown as nouveaux-riches, upstarts whose incomes derive from such suspect sources as leasing out dramshops and ruining old, established families. Yet their juniors are easy prey, depicted as wastrels and profligates. In Act Two, the clownish young doctor Triletsky puts the touch on an enriched grocer “just because,” and then hands out the cash he has received, ruble by ruble, to anyone who comes along. The passing of the banknotes from hand to hand graphically illustrates the mindless prodigality of Chekhov’s nobly born contemporaries.

Whether or not this play is identical to Without Patrimony, the obsession with paternal relations and dispossession runs through it. Platonov has descended in status from gentleman to village schoolmaster. Voinitsev loses his estate through his own and his stepmother’s extravagances; a deceased general looms over their lives as one will in Three Sisters. A bleak picture is drawn of fathers and sons on a moral level: Platonov’s recollections of his late father are contemptuous; Glagolyev Jr. heartlessly tricks his father and goads him into a stroke; both Glagolyevs woo the same woman and drown their disappointment in Parisian debauchery. The Triletskys are ashamed of their drunken father, whom they treat as a kind of wayward child. Shcherbuk hates his two daughters. Only the Vengerovichs seem to preserve a mutually respectful alliance, and they are Jews, outsiders in this society.

Chekhov was unable to pursue all the hares he started in this play, or to find the proper angle from which to view his protagonist. Awkwardly, he puts his own opinion in the mouth of Glagolyev Sr. shortly before Platonov’s first appearance, setting him up as “the finest exponent of modern infirmity of purpose.” This rural Don Juan is irresistible to women, but he is also a cracker-barrel Schopenhauer whose alleged idealism and skepticism appeal to the men. Shallow and vacillating, he has a silver tongue, not unlike Tur-genev’s Rudin, the exemplar of superfluous man. He bears all the earmarks of the type: alienated, hypersensitive, and mired in inertia.

Irony swamps Platonov’s claims to heroic stature; with ambitions to be Hamlet, “a second Byron,” “a prospective cabinet minister and a Christopher Columbus,” he is shamefaced to reveal his paunchy schoolmaster status to a former girlfriend. He has not even graduated from the university, which does not prevent him from lecturing others on their spiritual and moral failings. Since most of the men in the community are grotesque clowns or flaccid weaklings, he seems in contrast a paragon, and hence a lodestone to women.

Four of the mille e tre this village Don Giovanni numbers in his catalogue of conquests contradict Glagolyev’s notion that a woman is a paragon. Platonov’s wife, Sasha, is a long-suffering homebody whom he forces to read Sacher-Masoch’s Ideals of Our Times; her two attempts at suicide, both thwarted, are not to be taken seriously. Twenty-year-old Mariya Grekova is shown to be a hypocritical bluestocking, whose highminded scorn melts into infatuation when Platonov writes her a love letter. The sophisticated widow Anna Petrovna manipulates the men in her circle for financial security, and sees Platonov as a better quality of plaything, although her feelings may run deeper than she is willing to admit. Sofiya, her daughter-in-law, commits adultery with Platonov in hopes of a “new life” but shoots him when he shrugs off the affair. If Mariya is the Donna Elvira, then Sofiya is the Donna Anna of this opera.

Osip the thief does not play Leporello to Platonov, however; rather, he is a kind of double. He tries to set himself above his fellows by being a “bad man.” He is a Nietzschean superman on a plebeian plane. Platonov harms others by manipulating their emotions; Osip harms them physically and materially. And they are both destroyed by their victims. When the two men grapple in the schoolroom, it is like a man fighting his shadow or Doppelgänger.

For all its overstatement, what makes this play a real portent of Chekhov’s mature work is the unsteady listing from the comic side to the serious. It bespeaks a view of the cohesiveness of life, in which critical issues and meaningless trivia coexist. Chekhov’s career as a professional humorist made him alert to the grotesque detail, the absurd facet of any situation; but more important is his ingrained awareness that the current of life, awash with the banal flotsam of everyday, carries away heroic poses and epic aspirations. A comic effect is natural when grandiose philosophical questions and emotional crises have to share space with the inexorable demands of the humdrum.

NOTE

1 M. P. Chekhov, “Ob A. P. Chekhove,” Novoe slovo 1 (1907): 198.

UNTITLED PLAY

ПЬeca ·eз нaз‚aния

sometimes known as

WITHOUT PATRIMONY (DISINHERITED) or PLATONOV

Бeэoтцo‚щинa or Плaтoнo‚

Play in Four Acts

CHARACTERS

ANNA PETROVNA VOINITSEVA, the young widow of a general

SERGEY PAVLOVICH VOINITSEV, General Voinitsev’s son by his first marriage

SOFYA YEGOROVNA, his wife

PORFIRY SEMYONOVICH GLAGOLYEV SR.

landowners, neighbors of the Voinitsevs

KIRILL PORFIRYEVICH GLAGOLYEV JR.

GERASIM KUZMICH PETRIN

PAVEL PETROVICH SHCHERBUK

MARIYA YEFIMOVNA GREKOVA,

a girl of 20

IVAN IVANOVICH TRILETSKY,

a retired colonel

NIKOLAY IVANOVICH,

his son, a young physician

ABRAM ABRAMOVICH VENGEROVICH SR,

a rich Jew

ISAK ABRAMOVICH, his son, a university student

TIMOFEY GORDEEVICH BUGROV, a merchant

MIKHAIL VASILYEVICH PLATONOV, a village schoolmaster

ALEKSANDRA IVANOVNA (SASHA), his wife, daughter of 1.1. Triletsky

OSIP, a fellow about 30, a horse thief

MARKO, messenger for the Justice of the Peace, a little old geezer

VASILY

servants of the Voinitsevs

YAKOV

KATYA

GUESTS, SERVANTS

The action takes place on the Voinitsevs’ estate in

one of the southern provinces.

ACT ONE

A drawing-room in the Voinitsevs’ home. A French window to the garden and two doors to the inner rooms. A mixture of both old-and new-fashioned furniture. A grand piano, beside it a music-stand with a violin and sheet music. A harmonium. Pictures (oleographs) in gilt frames.

SCENE I

ANNA PETROVNA is sitting at the piano, her head bowed over the keys. NIKOLAY IVANOVICH TRILETSKY enters.

TRILETSKY (walks over to Anna Petrovna). What’s the matter?

ANNA PETROVNA (raises her head). Nothing . . . Just a little bored . . .

TRILETSKY. Let’s have a smoke, mon ange!¹ My flesh is itching for a smoke. For some reason I haven’t had a smoke since this morning.

ANNA PETROVNA (hands him hand-rolled cigarettes). Take a lot so you won’t be pestering me later.

They light up.

It’s so boring, Nikolya! It’s tedious, there’s nothing to do, I’m depressed . . . I don’t even know what there is to do . . .

TRILETSKY takes her by the hand.

ANNA PETROVNA. You’re taking my pulse? I’m all right . . .

TRILETSKY. No, I’m not taking your pulse . . . I’m going to plant a sloppy kiss . . .

Kisses her hand.

Kissing her hand is like falling into a downy pillow. What do you wash your hands with to make them so white? Wonderful hands! I’ve really got to kiss them again.

Kisses her hand.

Feel like a game of chess?

ANNA PETROVNA. Go ahead . . .

Looks at the clock.

A quarter past twelve . . . I suppose our guests must be famished . . .

TRILETSKY (sets up the chess board). Highly likely. Speaking for myself, I’m ravenous.

ANNA PETROVNA. I wasn’t referring to you . . . You’re always hungry, although you never stop eating . . .

Sits down at the chessboard.

Your move . . . Made a move already . . . You should think first and then make your move . . . I’m moving here . . . You’re always hungry . . .

TRILETSKY. So that’s your move . . . All right, ma’am . . . I am hungry, ma’am . . . Will we be having dinner soon?

ANNA PETROVNA. I don’t think so . . . To celebrate our return home, the cook got soused and now he’s flat on his back. We’ll have lunch eventually. Seriously, Nikolay Ivanych, when will you be full? Eat, eat, eat . . . you never stop eating! It’s really horrible! Such a little man and such a big stomach!

TRILETSKY. Oh yes! Remarkable!

ANNA PETROVNA. You barge into my room and without a by-your-leave eat half a pie! As if you didn’t know it wasn’t my pie? You’re a pig, dovie! Your move!

TRILETSKY. I didn’t know. I only knew that it would go bad on you if I didn’t eat it. That’s your move? Might work, ma’am . . . And this is mine . . . If I do eat a lot, it means I’m healthy, and if I’m healthy, don’t give me a hard time . . . Mens sans in corpore sano.²

Why think? Make your move, my dear little lady, without thinking . . . (Sings.) “I have a tale to tell, to tell . . .”³

ANNA PETROVNA. Be quiet . . . You’re keeping me from thinking.

TRILETSKY. What a shame that a woman as intelligent as yourself never gives a thought to gastronomy. A man who doesn’t know how to eat is a monster . . . A moral monster! . . . Because . . . Excuse me, excuse me! You can’t make that move! What? Where are you going? Well, that’s another story. Because taste bears the same relation to nature as hearing and sight, I mean it’s one of the five senses, which taken as a whole belong to the realm, my good woman, of psychology. Psychology!

ANNA PETROVNA. I do believe you’re planning to be witty . . . Don’t be witty, my dear! I’m sick and tired of it, and besides it’s not in your line . . . Have you noticed that I never laugh when you’re being witty? I do believe it’s high time you noticed it . . .

TRILETSKY. Your move, votre excellence! . . .⁴ Protect your knight. You don’t laugh because you don’t get the joke . . . That’s right, ma’am . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. What are you gawking at? It’s your move! What do you think? Will your “one and only” come here today or not?

TRILETSKY. She promised to come. Gave her word.

ANNA PETROVNA. In that case it’s high time she was here. It’s one o’clock . . . You . . . forgive me for the bluntness of the question . . . Are you and she “just friends” or is it serious?

TRILETSKY. Meaning?

ANNA PETROVNA. Be frank, Nikolay Ivanych! I’m not asking as a gossip, but as a good friend . . . What’s Miss Grekova to you and you to her? Frankly and without being witty, please . . . Well? Tell me the truth, I’m asking as a good friend . . .

TRILETSKY. What is she to me and I to her? So far I don’t know, ma’am . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. At the very least . . .

TRILETSKY. I drop in on her, chat with her, bore her silly, put her dear mama to the expense of making coffee and . . . that’s all. Your move. I drop by, I ought to tell you, every other day, and sometimes every day, I walk down shady lanes . . . I talk to her about my stuff, she talks to me about her stuff, then she takes me by this button and flicks lint off my collar . . . I’m constantly covered in lint.⁵

ANNA PETROVNA. Well?

TRILETSKY. Well, nothing . . . Just what it is I find attractive about her is hard to define. Whether it’s boredom or love or something else, I can’t figure out . . . I know that when dinner’s over she bores me stiff . . . It has incidentally come to my attention that I bore her as well . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Love, in other words?

TRILETSKY (shrugs his shoulders). Quite possibly. What do you think, do I love her or not?

ANNA PETROVNA. Isn’t that sweet! You should know better than I . . .

TRILETSKY. Uh-oh . . . you really don’t understand me! . . . Your move!

ANNA PETROVNA. I’m moving. I don’t understand, Nikolya! It’s not easy for a woman to understand the way you’re behaving in this sort of relationship . . .

Pause.

TRILETSKY. She’s a good girl.

ANNA PETROVNA. I like her. Got her wits about her . . . Only here’s the thing, my friend . . . Don’t get her involved in any hanky-panky! . . . None of that sort of thing . . . That’s your besetting sin . . . You hang around and hang around, talk arrant nonsense, make promises, spread rumors and then you call the whole thing off . . . I’d be awfully sorry . . . What is she up to these days? . . .

TRILETSKY. Reading.

ANNA PETROVNA. And studying chemistry?

They laugh.

TRILETSKY. I suppose so.

ANNA PETROVNA. A marvelous creature . . . Careful! You knocked over that piece with your sleeve! I like her with that pointy little nose of hers! She might make quite a good scientist . . .

TRILETSKY. She can’t figure out what she wants to do, poor girl!

ANNA PETROVNA. Tell you what, Nikolay . . . Ask Mariya Yefimovna to come over and see me some time . . . I’ll find out what she’s like . . . Now, I won’t act as a marriage broker, I’ll just . . . You and I will get a taste of her quality, and we’ll either let her go about her business or take her on approval . . . Whichever way it turns out . . .

Pause.

I think of you as a babe in arms, fickle as the wind, and that’s why I’m interfering in your affairs. Your move. Here’s my advice. Either drop her entirely or else marry her . . . Only do marry her, and . . . nothing else! If, to your great surprise, you want to marry her, please think it over first . . . Please examine her from every angle, not superficially, give it some thought, turn it over in your mind, discuss it, so you won’t have cause for tears later on . . . You hear me?

TRILETSKY. How can I help it . . . I’m all ears.

ANNA PETROVNA. I know you. You do everything without a second thought and you’ll get married without a second thought. A woman has only to crook her finger, and you’re ready to go the whole hog. You should consult with your closest friends . . . Yes . . . You can’t rely on your own stupid head . . . (Raps on the table.) That’s what your head’s made of! (Whistles.) The wind whistles through it, my good man! It’s packed with brains, but not an ounce of sense . . .

TRILETSKY. Whistles like a farmhand! Wonderful woman!

Pause.

She won’t come here for a visit.

ANNA PETROVNA. Why not?

TRILETSKY. Because Platonov hangs around here . . . She can’t stand him after those stunts he’s pulled. The man’s convinced that she’s a fool, imbedded the idea in his shaggy head, and now there’s no way in hell to shake it loose! For some reason he thinks it’s his responsibility to give fools a hard time, play all sorts of tricks on them . . . Your move! . . . But what kind of a fool is she? As if he understands people!

ANNA PETROVNA. Hogwash. We won’t let him do anything out of line. Tell her that she’s got nothing to be afraid of. But what’s taking Platonov so long? He should have been here long ago . . . (Looks at the clock.) It’s bad manners on his part. We haven’t seen one another for six months.

TRILETSKY. When I drove over here, the shutters on the school-house were closed tight. I suppose he’s still asleep. What a scoundrel the fellow is! I haven’t seen him for a long time either.

ANNA PETROVNA. Is he well?

TRILETSKY. He’s always well. Alive and kicking!

Enter GLAGOLYEV SR. and VOINITSEV.

SCENE II

The same, GLAGOLYEV SR. and VOINITSEV.

GLAGOLYEV SR. (entering). That’s the way it used to be, my dear Sergey Pavlovich. In that respect we, the setting suns, are better off and happier than you, the rising suns. Man, as you see, wasn’t the loser, and woman was the winner.

They sit down.

Let’s sit down, besides I’m worn out . . . We loved women like the most chivalrous of knights, put our faith in them, worshiped them, because we regarded them as the paragon of humanity . . . For a woman is the paragon of humanity, Sergey Pavlovich!

ANNA PETROVNA. Why are you cheating?

TRILETSKY. Who’s cheating?

ANNA PETROVNA. And who put that pawn here?

TRILETSKY. Why, you put it there yourself!

ANNA PETROVNA. Oh, right . . . Pardon . . .

TRILETSKY. You’re darn right pardon.

GLAGOLYEV SR. We had friends as well . . . In our day friendship wasn’t so simple-minded and so superficial. In our day there were clubs, liberal literary circles⁶. . . For our friends, among other things, we were expected to go through fire.

VOINITSEV (yawns). Those were the days!

TRILETSKY. And in these horrid days of ours it’s the firemen who go through fire for their friends.

ANNA PETROVNA. Don’t be silly, Nikolya!

Pause.

GLAGOLYEV SR. Last winter at the Moscow opera I saw a young man burst into tears under the influence of good music . . . Isn’t that a fine thing?

VOINITSEV. I’d say it’s a very fine thing.

GLAGOLYEV SR. That’s what I think. But why, do tell me, please, when they noticed it, did the little ladies sitting nearby and their male companions smirk at him? What were they smirking at? And when he realized that these good people were watching him weep, he started to slouch in his seat, blush, planted a crooked grin on his face and then left the theater . . . In our day we weren’t ashamed of honest tears and we didn’t make fun of them . . .

TRILETSKY (to Anna Petrovna). I wish this sack of saccharine would die of melancholy! I can’t stand it! He gives me an earache!

ANNA PETROVNA. Sssh . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. We were much happier than you are. In our day people who appreciated music did not leave the theater, but sat through the opera to the end . . . You’re yawning, Sergey Pavlovich . . . I’ve been imposing on you . . .

VOINITSEV. No . . . But come to the point, Porfiry Semyonych! It’s high time . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. Well, sir . . . And so on and so forth . . . Now the point I’m trying to make to you is that in our day there were people who could love and hate, and consequently, feel indignation and contempt . . .

VOINITSEV. Fine, and in our day there aren’t any, is that it?

GLAGOLYEV SR. I don’t think there are.

VOINITSEV gets up and goes to the window.

The deficit of such people is responsible for our present state of decline . . .

Pause.

VOINITSEV. Not proven, Porfiry Semyonych!

ANNA PETROVNA. I can’t stand it! He reeks so badly of that unbearable cheap cologne⁷ that I’m starting to feel faint. (Coughs.) Move back a bit!

TRILETSKY (moves back). She’s losing and it’s all the fault of my poor cologne. Wonderful woman!

VOINITSEV. It’s wrong, Porfiry Semyonych, to cast aspersions on a person based only on conjecture and a partiality for the youth of days gone by!

GLAGOLYEV SR. It may be I’m mistaken.

VOINITSEV. May be . . . In this case there’s no room for “may be” . . . Your accusation is no laughing matter!

GLAGOLYEV SR. (laughs). But . . . you’re starting to get angry, my dear man . . . Hm . . . All this proves is that there’s no chivalry in you, you don’t know how to treat the views of an adversary with the proper respect.

VOINITSEV. The only thing it proves is that I do know how to get indignant.

GLAGOLYEV SR. Of course, I don’t mean everyone . . . There are exceptions, Sergey Pavlovich!

VOINITSEV. Of course . . . (Bows.) I thank you most humbly for the little concession! The whole charm of your approach lies in such concessions. But what if you ran into some simple-minded person, who didn’t know you, and who actually believed you knew what you were talking about? You’d end up convincing him that we, I mean, myself, Nikolay Ivanych, my maman and more or less every young person is incapable of feeling indignation and contempt . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. But . . . you just . . . I didn’t say . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. I want to listen to Porfiry Semyonych. Let’s call this off! Enough.

TRILETSKY. No, no . . . Play and listen at the same time!

ANNA PETROVNA. Enough. (Gets up.) I’m fed up with it. We’ll finish the game later.

TRILETSKY. When I’m losing, she sits glued to her spot, but as soon as I start to win, it turns out she longs to listen to Porfiry Semyonych! (To Glagolyev.) And who’s asking you to talk? You’re only in the way! (To Anna Petrovna.) Please sit back down and carry on, otherwise I’ll assume that you lost!

ANNA PETROVNA. Go ahead! (Sits facing Glagolyev.)

SCENE III

The same and VENGEROVICH SR.

VENGEROVICH SR. (enters). It’s hot! This heat reminds a Yid like me of Palestine. (Sits at the piano and runs his fingers over the keys.) I’m told it’s very hot there!

TRILETSKY (gets up). We’ll make a note of it. (Takes a notebook out of his pocket.) We’ll make a note of it, my good woman! (Makes a note.) The general’s lady . . . the general’s lady three rubles . . . With what’s owing—ten rubles! Uh-oh! When shall I have the honor of receiving that sum?

GLAGOLYEV SR. Eh, my friends, my friends! You didn’t know the past! You’d be singing a different tune . . . You’d understand . . . (Sighs.) You just can’t understand!

VOINITSEV. Literature and history are more to be trusted, I think . . . We didn’t know the past, Porfiry Semyonych, but we feel it . . . Very often this is where we feel it the most . . . (Slaps himself on the back of the neck.) You’re the one who doesn’t know or feel the present.

TRILETSKY. Would you like me to put it on your tab, votre excellence, or are you ready to pay up now?

ANNA PETROVNA. Stop it! You’re not letting me listen!

TRILETSKY. And why should you listen to them? They’ll go on talking till nightfall!

ANNA PETROVNA. Serzhel, give this maniac ten rubles!

VOINITSEV. Ten? (Takes out his billfold.) Let’s change the subject, Porfiry Semyonovich . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. Let’s, if you don’t care for it.

VOINITSEV. I don’t mind listening to you, but I do mind listening to what sounds like defamation of character . . . (Gives Triletsky ten rubles.)

TRILETSKY. Merci. (Claps Vengerovich on the shoulder.) That’s how you’ve got to live in this world! Sit a defenseless woman down at the chessboard and clean her out of a ten-spot without a twinge of conscience. How about it? Praiseworthy behavior?

VENGEROVICH SR. Praiseworthy behavior. Doctor, you’re a real Jerusalem gentleman!

ANNA PETROVNA. Stop it, Triletsky! (To Glagolyev.) So a woman is the paragon of humanity, Porfiry Semyonovich?

GLAGOLYEV SR. The paragon.

ANNA PETROVNA. Hm . . . Evidently, you are a great ladies’ man, Porfiry Semyonovich!

GLAGOLYEV SR. Yes, I do love the ladies. I worship them, Anna Petrovna. I see in them almost everything I love: heart, and . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. You adore them . . . And are they worthy ofyour adoration?

GLAGOLYEV SR. They are.

ANNA PETROVNA. You’re sure about that? Firmly convinced or only talking yourself into thinking that way?

TRILETSKY takes the violin and draws the bow along it.

GLAGOLYEV SR. Firmly convinced. I only need to know one of you to be convinced of it . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Seriously? You’ve got a funny way of looking at things.

VOINITSEV. He’s a romantic.

GLAGOLYEV SR. Maybe . . . What of it? Romanticism is not entirely a bad thing. You’ve discarded romanticism . . . That’s all right, but I’m afraid you discarded something else along with it . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Don’t start a debate, my friend. I don’t know how to make a logical argument. Whether we discarded it or not, in any case we’ve become more intelligent, thank God! Aren’t we more intelligent, Porfiry Semyonych? And that’s the main thing . . . (Laughs.) So long as there are intelligent people and they keep growing more intelligent, the rest will take care of itself . . .⁸ Ah! stop that scraping, Nikolay Ivanych! Put the violin away!

TRILETSKY (hangs up the violin). Nice instrument.

GLAGOLYEV SR. Platonov once put it very neatly . . . He said, we have become more intelligent about women, and to become more intelligent about women means trampling ourselves and women in the mire . . .

TRILETSKY (roars with laughter). I suppose it was his saint’s day⁹ . . . He’d had a bit too much . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. What did he say? (Laughs.) Yes, sometimes he likes to come out with snide remarks like that . . . But he probably said it for effect . . . By the way, while we’re on the subject . . . What sort of a man, in your view, is our Platonov? A hero or an anti-hero?

GLAGOLYEV SR. How can I put this? Platonov, as I see it, is the finest exponent of modern infirmity of purpose . . . He is the hero of the best, still, unfortunately, unwritten, modern novel . . . (Laughs.) By infirmity of purpose I mean the current state of our society: the Russian novelist experiences this infirmity. He has turned up a blind alley, he’s lost, he doesn’t know what to focus on, he doesn’t understand . . . Indeed it’s no easy task to understand gentlemen like these! (Indicates Voinitsev.) The novels are impossibly bad, stilted, trivial . . . and no wonder! Everything is extremely tentative, unintelligible . . . Everything is so utterly confused, muddled . . . And the exponent of this infirmity of purpose, in my opinion, is our highly intelligent Platonov. Is he well?

ANNA PETROVNA. I’m told he is.

Pause.

A remarkable man . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. Yes . . . It’s a mistake to underestimate him. I dropped in on him a few times last winter and will never forget those few hours which I had the good fortune to spend with him.

ANNA PETROVNA (looks at the clock). It’s high time he was here. Sergey, did you send for him?

VOINITSEV. Twice.

ANNA PETROVNA. You’re all talking nonsense, gentlemen. Triletsky, run and send Yakov to fetch him!

TRILETSKY (stretching). Shall I tell them to set the table?

ANNA PETROVNA. I’ll do it myself.

TRILETSKY (goes and at the door bumps into Bugrov). Chugging like a locomotive, it’s the grocery man! (Slaps him on the stomach and exits.)

SCENE IV

ANNA PETROVNA, GLAGOLYEV SR., VENGEROVICH SR., VOINITSEV, and BUGROV.

BUGROV (entering). Oof! This terrible heat! About to rain, looks like.

VOINITSEV. You came through the garden?

BUGROV. I did, sir . . .

VOINITSEV. Is Sophie there?

BUGROV. Who’s Sophie?

VOINITSEV. My wife, Sofya Yegorovna!¹⁰

VENGEROVICH SR. I’ll just go and . . . (Exits into the garden.)

SCENE V

ANNA PETROVNA, GLAGOLYEV SR., VOINITSEV, BUGROV, PLATONOV, and SASHA (in Russian folk costume).¹¹

PLATONOV (in the doorway, to Sasha). Please! After you, young woman! (Enters behind Sasha.) Well, we didn’t stay at home after all! Make your curtsey, Sasha! Good afternoon, your excellency! (Walks over to Anna Petrovna, kisses one hand and then the other.)

ANNA PETROVNA. You cruel, discourteous creature . . . How could you make us wait so long? Don’t you know how impatient I am? Dear Aleksan-dra Ivanovna . . . (Exchanges kisses with Sasha.)¹²

PLATONOV. So we didn’t stay at home after all! Hallelujah, gentlemen! For six months we haven’t seen a parquet floor, or easy chairs, or high ceilings, or even the decent people beneath them . . . All winter we hibernated in our den like bears, and only today have we crawled out into broad daylight! This is for Sergey Pavlovich! (Exchanges kisses with Voinitsev.)

VOINITSEV. And you’ve got taller, and put on weight and . . . who the hell knows what else . . . Aleksandra Ivanovna! Good Lord, you’ve put on weight! (Shakes Sasha’s hand.) Are you well? You’ve got prettier and plumper!

PLATONOV (shakes Glagolyev’s hand). Porfiry Semyonovich . . . Very pleased to see you . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. How are you? How are you getting on, Aleksandra Ivanovna? Please take seats, my friends! Tell us about yourselves . . . Sit down!

PLATONOV (roars with laughter). Sergey Pavlovich! Is that you? Lord! What’s happened to the long hair, the charming little blouse, and that sweet tenor voice? Come on, say something!

VOINITSEV. I’m a blithering idiot. (Laughs.)

PLATONOV. A basso, a basso profundo! Well? Let’s take a load off . . . Move over, Porfiry Semyonych! I’m sitting down. (Sits.) Sit down, ladies and gentlemen! Phew . . . It’s hot . . . So, Sasha! Can you smell it?

He sits down.

SASHA. I smell it.

PLATONOV. It smells of human flesh. What a marvelous aroma! I feel as if we haven’t seen one another for ages. Damn last winter, it dragged on forever! Look, there’s my armchair! You recognize it, Sasha? Six months ago I was ensconced in it day and night, threshing out the eternal verities with the general’s lady and gambling away your shiny ten-kopek coins . . . It’s hot . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. I was getting tired of waiting for you, I was losing patience . . . Are you all right?

PLATONOV. Quite well . . . I have to tell you, your excellency, that you have got plumper and a smidgeon prettier . . . Today it’s so hot, and muggy . . . I’m already beginning to miss the cold.

ANNA PETROVNA. How monstrously fat these two have gotten! Such a happy tribe! How’s life treating you, Mikhail Vasilich?

PLATONOV. Lousy as usual . . . All winter I slept and didn’t see the sky for six months. Drank, ate, slept, read adventure stories¹³ aloud to my wife . . . Lousy!

SASHA. Life treated us well, only it was boring, naturally . . .

PLATONOV. Not just boring, but extremely boring, my darling. I missed you all terribly . . . Now you’re a sight for sore eyes! To see you, Anna Petrovna, after a long, extra-tedious period of decentpeoplelessness and rottenpeo-pleitude, this is really an unpardonable luxury!

ANNA PETROVNA. Have a cigarette for that! (Gives him a cigarette.)

PLATONOV. Merci.

Lights up.

SASHA. You got here yesterday?

ANNA PETROVNA. At ten o’clock.

PLATONOV. At eleven I saw the lights on over here, but was afraid to drop by. I expect you were exhausted.

SASHA whispers in Platonov’s ear.

PLATONOV. Ah, damn it! (Slaps himself on the forehead.) What a memory! Why didn’t you say something before? Sergey Pavlovich!

VOINITSEV. What?

PLATONOV. And he didn’t say a word either! Got married and didn’t say a word! (Gets up.) I forgot, and they don’t say a word.

SASHA. I forgot too, while he was talking away . . . Congratulations, Sergey Pavlovich! I wish you . . . all the best, all the best!

PLATONOV. I am honored to . . . (Bows.) Best wishes and much love, my dear man! You’ve performed a miracle, Sergey Pavlovich! I never expected such a grave and brave move on your part! So swift and so speedy! Who could have expected such a heresy from you?

VOINITSEV. That’s the kind of fellow I am! Both swift and speedy! (Roars with laughter.) I didn’t expect such a heresy on my part. It all came together in a flash, old man. I fell in love and I got married!

PLATONOV. Not a winter has gone by without your “falling in love,” but this winter you got married as well, adding a critic to your team, as our parish priest says. A wife is the harshest, most fault-finding of critics! You’re in for it if she’s stupid! Have you found a little job?

VOINITSEV. They’re offering me a job at the prep school, but I don’t know what will come of it. I don’t see myself in a prep school! The pay is low, and on the whole . . .

PLATONOV. Going to take it?

VOINITSEV. So far I really don’t know. Probably not . . .

PLATONOV. Hm . . . Which means you’ll loaf around. Hasn’t it been three years since you graduated from the university?

VOINITSEV. Yes.

PLATONOV. You see . . . (Sighs.) There’s nobody to give you a good hiding! Have to tell your wife to do it . . . Loafing for three whole years! Eh?

ANNA PETROVNA. It’s too hot now to discuss important matters . . . I feel like yawning. What kept you so long, Aleksandra Ivanovna?

SASHA. We had no time . . . Misha had to fix the bird-cage, and I had to go to church . . . The cage was broken, and we couldn’t leave our nightingale like that.

GLAGOLYEV SR. But why go to church today? Is it some holiday?

SASHA. No . . . I went to order a mass from Father Konstantin. Today is the memorial of Misha’s father’s death, and somehow it’s awkward not to have prayers said . . . So I had a requiem sung . . .

Pause.

GLAGOLYEV SR. How long has it been since your father passed away, Mikhail Vasilich?

PLATONOV. About three, four years . . .

SASHA. Three years and eight months.

GLAGOLYEV SR. You don’t say so? Goodness me! How time flies! Three years and eight months! Can it be that long since our last meeting? (Sighs.) The last time he and I met was at Ivanovka, both on the same jury . . . And something happened which was perfectly characteristic of the deceased . . . I remember they were trying a certain wretched, alcoholic government surveyor for bribery and corruption and (laughs) we acquitted him . . . Vasily Andreich, the deceased, insisted on it . . . He insisted for three hours straight, made all sorts of arguments, got hot under the collar . . . “I won’t convict him,” he shouts, “until you swear an oath that you yourselves never take bribes!” Illogical, but . . . there was nothing to be done with him! He wore us down dreadfully with his tolerance . . . We had with us the late General Voinitsev, your husband, Anna Petrovna . . . Another man of the same stripe.

ANNA PETROVNA. He wouldn’t have been for acquittal . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. Right, he insisted on conviction . . . I remember them both, red-faced, fuming, truculent . . . The peasants sided with the general, but we gentry sided with Vasily Andreich . . . We carried the day, of course . . . (Laughs.) Your father challenged the general to a duel, the general called him . . . forgive me, a sonuvabitch . . . Great fun! Later on we got them drunk and they made up . . . There’s nothing easier than to get Russians to make up . . . A kind fellow your father, he had a kind heart . . .

PLATONOV. Not kind, but sloppy . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. He was a great man in his way . . . I respected him. We were on the most excellent terms!

PLATONOV. Well, look, I can’t sing his praises like that. We had a falling-out, when I still didn’t have a hair on my chin, and for the last three years we were bitter enemies. I did not respect him, he considered me to be good for nothing, and . . . we were both right. I do not like the man! I do not like the fact that he died in his bed. He died the way honest men die. He was a sonuvabitch and at the same time refused to admit it—terribly characteristic of the Russian scoundrel!

GLAGOLYEV SR. De mortuis aut bene, aut nihil,¹⁴ Mikhail Vasilich!

PLATONOV. No . . . That’s a Latin heresy. The way I see it: de omnibus aut nihil, aut veritas.¹⁵ But veritas is better than nihil, it’s more instructive, at any rate . . . I insist that you don’t have to make excuses for the dead . . .

Enter IVAN IVANOVICH.

SCENE VI

The same and IVAN IVANOVICH.

IVAN IVANOVICH (enters). Ta-ran-ta-ra . . . My son-in-law and my daughter! Luminaries from the constellation of Colonel Triletsky! Good afternoon, my dears! A Krupp gun¹⁶ salute! My friends, this heat! Mishenka, my dear boy . . .

PLATONOV (gets up). Greetings . . . Colonel! (Embraces him.) How’s your health?

IVAN IVANOVICH. Never better . . . The Lord is patient and doesn’t punish me. Sashenka . . . (Kisses Sasha on the head.) Haven’t set eyes on you for ever so long . . . How’s your health, Sashenka?

SASHA. Good . . . You’re all right?

IVAN IVANOVICH (sits next to Sasha). I’m always healthy. Never been sick a day in my life . . . It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! Every day I intend to visit you, see my grandson and carp about the whole wide world with my son-in-law, but I can never make up my mind to do it . . . Too busy, my angel! Day before yesterday I wanted to drive over, wanted to show you my new double-barrel shotgun, Mishenka, but the district police chief detained me and I had to sit down to a game of cards . . . It’s a wonderful double-barrel! Anglish make, buckshot range of five hundred feet . . . Is my grandson well?

SASHA. He is, and sends his regards . . .

IVAN IVANOVICH. Does he really know how to send regards?

VOINITSEV. You have to take it figuratively.

IVAN IVANOVICH. All right, all right . . . Figuratively . . . Tell him, Sashurka, to grow up fast. I’ll take him hunting with me . . . I’ve already got a little double-barrel ready for him . . . I’ll make a huntsman of him, so that I can leave him my hunting gear . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Our Ivan Ivanych is a sweetheart! He and I shall go shooting quail on St. Peter’s day.¹⁷

IVAN IVANOVICH. Ho-ho! Anna Petrovna, we shall mount an expedition against the snipe. We shall mount a polar expedition to Devil’s Swamp . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. We’ll try out your double-barrel . . .

IVAN IVANOVICH. We shall indeed. Diana¹⁸ the divine! (Kisses her hand.) You remember last year, my dear? Ha, ha! I love your kind of person, god-damit! I don’t care for the faint-hearted! Why, she’s a women’s emancipation movement all by herself! Get a whiff of her lovely shoulder, and it’s scented with gunpowder. It smells of Hannibals and Hamilcars!¹⁹ A military governor, quite the military governor! Give her a pair of epaulettes, and the world will be at her feet! Let’s go! And take Sasha with us! We’ll take everybody! We’ll show them what a warrior’s blood is like, Diana the divine, your excellency, Alexandra the Great!

PLATONOV. Had a drop already, colonel?

IVAN IVANOVICH. Naturally . . . Sans doute . . .²⁰

PLATONOV. So that accounts for all the blather . . .

IVAN IVANOVICH. I got here, my dear chum, around eight o’clock . . . You were all still asleep . . . I got here, and cooled my heels . . . I look, she comes out . . . laughs . . . A bottle of Madeira we opened. Diana drank three little glasses, and I had the rest . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. You don’t have to tell them about it!

TRILETSKY runs in.

SCENE VII

The same and TRILETSKY.

TRILETSKY. Welcome, nearest and dearest!

PLATONOV. Ah-ah-ah . . . The quack personal physician to her Excellency! Argentum nitricum . . . aquae destillatae . . .²¹ Delighted to see you, my dear fellow! He’s healthy, sleek, glistening, and aromatic!

TRILETSKY (kisses Sasha’s head). Your Mikhail’s damn well bulked up! An ox, an honest-to-God ox!

SASHA. Faugh, what a stench of cologne! Are you well?

TRILETSKY. Fit as a fiddle. Nice of you to show up. (Sits down.) How’s business, Michel?

PLATONOV. What business?

TRILETSKY. Yours, naturally.

PLATONOV. Mine? Who knows what that may be! It would take a long time in the telling, pal, and be of no interest. Where did you get such a chic haircut? A handsome coiffure! Did it cost a ruble?

TRILETSKY. I don’t let barbers get near it . . . I’ve got some ladies for that, and I don’t pay ladies for haircuts in rubles . . . (Eats fruit-flavored jelly beans.) Dear old pal, what I . . .

PLATONOV. About to be witty? That’s a no-no . . . Don’t take the trouble! Spare us, please.

SCENE VIII

The same, PETRIN, and VENGEROVICH SR.

PETRIN enters with a newspaper and sits down.

VENGEROVICH SR. sits in the corner.

TRILETSKY (to Ivan Ivanovich). If you have tears, prepare to shed them now, my progenitor!

IVAN IVANOVICH. Why should I shed tears?

TRILETSKY. Well, for instance, for joy . . . Look upon me! I am thy son! . . . (Points at Sasha.) She is thy daughter! (Points at Platonov.) That youth is thy son-in-law! The daughter alone is worth a tidy sum! She is a pearl of great price, daddy dearest! Thou alone couldst have engendered such an enchanting daughter! And what about the son-in-law?

IVAN IVANOVICH. Why should I shed tears over that, my son? There’s no need for tears.

TRILETSKY. And what about the son-in-law? Oh . . . that son-in-law! You couldn’t find another like him if you searched the wide world over! Honest, noble, big-hearted, just! And your grandson? He’s the double-damnedest little boy! Waves his hands, reaches out like this and won’t stop squealing: “Grampa! grampa! Where’s grampa? Let me at him, the cutthroat, let me at his whiskers!”

IVAN IVANOVICH (looks in his pocket for a handkerchief). Why should I shed tears? Well, God be praised . . . (Weeps.) There’s no call for tears.

TRILETSKY. Shedding tears, colonel?

IVAN IVANOVICH. No . . . What for? Well, praise the Lord! . . . So what?

PLATONOV. Stop it, Nikolay!

TRILETSKY (gets up and sits down next to Bugrov). The atmospheric temperature is a hot one today, Timofey Gordeich!

BUGROV. That’s a fact. It’s as hot as the top bench in a steam bath. The temperature’s up in the nineties, I can’t deny it.

TRILETSKY. What can this mean? Why is it so hot, Timofey Gordeich?

BUGROV. You know that better than me.

TRILETSKY. I don’t know. I majored in medicine.

BUGROV. Well, the way I see it, sir, the reason it’s so hot is that you and me would have a good laugh if it was cold in June.

Laughter.

TRILETSKY. I see, sir . . . Now I understand . . . What’s the best thing for grass, Timofey Gordeich, climate or atmosphere?

BUGROV. They’re both all right, Nikolay Ivanych, only you need a little rain for the wheat . . . What’s the sense of a climate if there ain’t no rain? Without rain it ain’t worth a plug nickle.

TRILETSKY. I see . . . That’s so true . . . Your lips, I cannot deny, give utterance to the purest wisdom . . . And what’s your opinion, Mr. Grocery Man, concerning everything else?

BUGROV (laughs). Don’t have none.

TRILETSKY. Q.E.D. You are the most intelligent of men, Timofey Gordeich! Well, now, what would you say to an astronomic anomaly that would make Anna Petrovna give us something to eat? Huh?

ANNA PETROVNA. Wait a while, Triletsky! Everyone else is waiting, so you can wait too!

TRILETSKY. She doesn’t know our appetites! She doesn’t know how much you and I, but especially I and you, want a drink! And we shall eat and drink gloriously, Timofey Gordeich! In the first place . . . In the first place . . . (Whispers in Bugrov’s ear.) Not bad? And that’s just the booze . . . Cre-matum simplex . . .²² Whatever your heart desires: consumption on and off the premises . . . Caviar, sturgeon, salmon, sardines . . . Next a six- or seven-layer pie . . . That high! Filled with every conceivable wonder of flora and fauna from the Old and New Testaments . . . The sooner the better . . . Starving to death, Timofey Gordeich? Be honest . . .

SASHA (to Triletsky). You don’t so much want to eat as to make a fuss! You don’t like it when people sit quietly!

TRILETSKY. I don’t like it when people keel over with hunger, my chubby little cherub!

PLATONOV. If you’re being witty now, Nikolay Ivanych, why aren’t people laughing?

ANNA PETROVNA. Ah, I’m sick and tired of him! So sick and tired of him! His impertinence is overstepping the bounds! It’s terrible! Well, just you wait, you nasty man! I’ll give you something to eat! (Exits.)

TRILETSKY. About time too.

SCENE IX

The same, without ANNA PETROVNA.

PLATONOV. Although I wouldn’t object . . . What time is it? I’m hungry too.

VOINITSEV. Where did my wife go, gentlemen? Platonov still hasn’t met her . . . They have to get acquainted. (Gets up.) I’ll go and look for her. She’s so fond of the garden that she can’t leave it.

PLATONOV. By the way, Sergey Pavlovich . . . I’d prefer you not to introduce me to your wife . . . I’d like to know if she recognizes me or not? I was once slightly acquainted with her and . . .

VOINITSEV. Acquainted with her? Sonya?

PLATONOV. A long time ago . . . When I was still a student, I think. Please make no introductions, and don’t say anything, don’t tell her anything about me.

VOINITSEV. All right. The man knows everybody! And when does he have time to make acquaintances? (Exits into the garden.)

TRILETSKY. That was quite a leading article I inserted in the Russian Courier,²³ gentlemen! Have you read it? Did you read it, Abram Abramych?

VENGEROVICH SR. I did.

TRILETSKY. Am I right, a remarkable article? You there, you, Abram Abra-mych, I made out to be a real man-eater! What I wrote about you would put all of Europe in a panic!

PETRIN (roars with laughter). So that was who it was about?! So that’s who V is! Well then, who is B?

BUGROV (laughs). That’s me, sir. (Mops his forehead.) Let’s forget about it!

VENGEROVICH SR. So what! It’s most commendable. If I knew how to write, I would definitely write for the papers. In the first place, they pay cash for it, and in the second, for some reason people who write are assumed to be highly intelligent. Only it wasn’t you, Doctor, who wrote that article. It was by Porfiry Semyonych.

GLAGOLYEV SR. How did you find that out?

VENGEROVICH SR. I know it.

GLAGOLYEV SR. Strange . . . I did write it, that’s true, but how did you manage to find out?

VENGEROVICH SR. One can find out anything if only one wants to. You sent it as a registered letter, well, the clerk at our post office has a good memory. That’s all . . . And there’s no guesswork involved. My Jewish cunning has nothing to do with it . . . (Laughs.) Don’t be afraid, I won’t take revenge.

GLAGOLYEV SR. I’m not afraid, but . . . I do find it strange!

GREKOVA enters.

SCENE X

The same and GREKOVA.

TRILETSKY (leaps up). Mariya Yefimovna! Well, this is nice! What a surprise!

GREKOVA (gives him her hand). Good afternoon, Nikolay Ivanych! (Nods her head to the rest.) Good afternoon, gentlemen!

TRILETSKY (takes her cape). I’ll take your little cape . . . Alive and well? Good afternoon again! (Kisses her hand.) Are you well?

GREKOVA. As always . . . (Embarrassed, sits on the first chair she finds.) Is Anna Petrovna at home?

TRILETSKY. She is. (Sits beside her.)

GLAGOLYEV SR. Good afternoon, Mariya Yefimovna!

IVAN IVANOVICH. Is this Mariya Yefimovna? I barely recognized her! (Walks over to Grekova and kisses her hand.) I’m pleased to meet you . . . Most pleased . . .

GREKOVA. Good afternoon, Ivan Ivanych! (Coughs.) It’s awfully hot . . . Don’t kiss my hand, please . . . It makes me feel awkward . . . I don’t like it . . .

PLATONOV (walks over to Grekova). I’m pleased to convey my regards! . . . (Tries to kiss her hand.) How are you? May I take your hand?

GREKOVA (withdrawing her hand). Don’t . . .

PLATONOV. Why not? I’m unworthy?

GREKOVA. I don’t know whether you’re worthy or not, but . . . you can’t mean it?

PLATONOV. Can’t mean it? How do you know if I mean it or not?

GREKOVA. You wouldn’t have started to kiss my hand, if I hadn’t said that I didn’t like hand-kissing . . . For the most part you like to do whatever I don’t like . . .

PLATONOV. Already jumping to conclusions!

TRILETSKY (to Platonov). Go away!

PLATONOV. Right this minute . . . How is your essence of bedbugs, Mariya Yefimovna?

GREKOVA. What essence?

PLATONOV. I heard that you are extracting ether from bedbugs . . . You want to make a contribution to science . . . An excellent idea!

GREKOVA. You’re always joking . . .

TRILETSKY. Yes, he’s always joking . . . So, you came after all, Mariya Yefi-movna . . . How is your maman?

PLATONOV. What a pink little rosebud you are! How overheated you are!

GREKOVA (gets up). Why do you keep saying these things to me?

PLATONOV. I’m just making conversation . . . I haven’t had a talk with you for a long time. Why get angry? When are you going to stop getting angry with me?

GREKOVA. I’ve noticed that you don’t feel at ease, whenever you see me . . . I don’t know how I’m interfering with you, but . . . I shall try to make life easy for you and avoid you as much as possible . . . If Nikolay Ivanych hadn’t given me his word of honor that you wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t have come . . . (To Triletsky.) Shame on you for lying!

PLATONOV. Shame on you for lying, Nikolay! (To Grekova.) You’re getting ready to cry . . . Go ahead and cry! Tears are occasionally a relief . . .

GREKOVA quickly goes to the door, where she runs into ANNA PETROVNA.

SCENE XI

The same and ANNA PETROVNA.

TRILETSKY (to Platonov). It’s stupid . . . stupid! Do you understand? Stupid! Do it again and . . . we’re enemies!

PLATONOV. What’s it got to do with you?

TRILETSKY. Stupid! You don’t know what you’re doing!

GLAGOLYEV SR. It’s cruel, Mikhail Vasilich!

ANNA PETROVNA. Mariya Yefimovna! I’m delighted! (Shakes Grekova’s hand.) Delighted . . . You so rarely come to call on me . . . You’ve come, and I love you for that . . . Let’s sit down . . .

They sit down.

Delighted . . . Thanks to Nikolay Ivanovich . . . He worked hard to pry you loose from your little village . . .

TRILETSKY (to Platonov). And what if, let’s say, I love her?

PLATONOV. Love her . . . Be my guest!

TRILETSKY. You don’t know what you’re saying!

ANNA PETROVNA. How are you, my dear?

GREKOVA. Well, thank you.

ANNA PETROVNA. You’re exhausted . . . (Looks her in the face.) It must be hard to drive fourteen miles when you’re not used to it . . .

GREKOVA. No . . . (Put a handkerchief to her eyes and weeps.)

ANNA PETROVNA. What’s wrong, Mariya Yefimovna?

Pause.

GREKOVA. No . . .

TRILETSKY paces up and down the stage.

GLAGOLYEV SR. (to Platonov). You have to apologize, Mikhail Vasilich!

PLATONOV. For what?

GLAGOLYEV SR. You have to ask?! You were cruel . . .

SASHA (walks over to Platonov). Apologize, or else I’m going! . . . Apologize!

ANNA PETROVNA. I would usually burst into tears after a trip . . . One’s nerves are so on edge! . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. Finally . . . I insist on it! It’s bad manners! I didn’t expect it of you!

SASHA. Apologize, I’m telling you! You shameless creature!

ANNA PETROVNA. I understand. (Looks at Platonov.) He’s already had time to . . . Forgive me, Mariya Yefimovna. I forgot to have a word with this . . . this . . . It’s my fault.

PLATONOV (walks over to Grekova). Mariya Yefimovna!

GREKOVA (raises her head). What can I do for you?

PLATONOV. I apologize . . . I publicly beg your pardon . . . I am consumed with shame in fifty different bones! . . . Give me your hand . . . I swear on my honor that I mean it . . . (Takes her hand.) Let’s make peace . . . No more sniveling . . . Friends? (Kisses her hand.)

GREKOVA. Friends. (Covers her face with her handkerchief and runs off.)

TRILETSKY goes after her.

SCENE XII

The same, less GREKOVA and TRILETSKY.

ANNA PETROVNA. I never thought that you would go that far . . . You!

GLAGOLYEV SR. Take it easy, Mikhail Vasilyevich, for heaven’s sake take it easy!

PLATONOV. That’s enough . . . (Sits on the sofa.) Forget about her . . . I did something stupid in talking to her, but stupidity doesn’t deserve all this discussion . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Why did Triletsky have to run after her? Few women enjoy being seen in tears.

GLAGOLYEV SR. I respect this sensitivity in women . . . You really didn’t say . . . anything in particular to her, I think, but . . . A mere hint, one little word . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. It’s wrong, Mikhail Vasilich, wrong.

PLATONOV. I apologized, Anna Petrovna.

Enter VOINITSEV, SOFYA YEGOROVNA, and VENGEROVICH JR.

SCENE XIII

The same, VOINITSEV, SOFYA YEGOROVNA, VENGEROVICH JR., and then TRILETSKY.

VOINITSEV (runs in). She’s coming, she’s coming! (Sings.) She’s coming!

VENGEROVICH JR. stops in the doorway, and crosses his arms over his chest.

ANNA PETROVNA. At last Sophie’s had enough of this unbearable heat! Please come in!

PLATONOV (aside). Sonya! Good God Almighty, how she’s changed!

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. I was so busy chatting with Monsieur Vengerovich that I completely forgot about the heat . . . (Sits on the sofa, a good yard’s distance from Platonov.) I’m thrilled by our garden, Sergey.

GLAGOLYEV SR. (sits beside Sofya Yegorovna.) Sergey Pavlovich!

VOINITSEV. What can I do for you?

GLAGOLYEV SR. Sofya Yegorovna, my dearest friend, gave me her word that you’ll all come and visit me on Thursday.

PLATONOV (aside). She looked at me!

VOINITSEV. We shall keep that word. The whole gang will come over to your place . . .

TRILETSKY (enters). Oh women, women! as Shakespeare said,²⁴ but he got it wrong. He should have said: Ouch, you women, women!

ANNA PETROVNA. Where’s Mariya Yefimovna?

TRILETSKY. I took her into the garden. Let her walk off her aggravation!

GLAGOLYEV SR. You’ve never once been to my place, Sofya Yegorovna! I hope you’ll like it there . . . The garden is better than yours, the river is deep, the horsies are good ones . . .

Pause.

ANNA PETROVNA. Silence . . . A fool has been born.

Laughter.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (quietly to Glagolyev, nodding at Platonov). Who is that man? The one who’s sitting beside me!

GLAGOLYEV SR. (laughs). That’s our schoolmaster . . . I don’t know his last name . . .

BUGROV (to Glagolyev). Tell me please, Nikolay Ivanych, can you cure all sorts of diseases or only some sorts?

TRILETSKY. All sorts.

BUGROV. Even anthrax?

TRILETSKY. Even anthrax.

BUGROV. So if a mad dog bit me, you could deal with it?

TRILETSKY. Did a mad dog bite you? (Moves away from him.)

BUGROV (nonplussed). God forbid! What do you mean, Nikolay Ivanych! Christ protect us!

Laughter.

ANNA PETROVNA. How do we get to your place, Porfiry Semyonych? By way of Yusnovka?

GLAGOLYEV SR. No . . . You’d be going in a circle if you drive by way of Yus-novka. Drive straight to Platonovka. I practically live in Platonovka, only a mile and a half away.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. I know that Platonovka. Does it still exist?

GLAGOLYEV SR. How else . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. I once knew the landowner there, Platonov. Sergey, do you know where that Platonov is now?

PLATONOV (aside). She should ask me where he is.

VOINITSEV. I think I do . . . You don’t remember his first name? (Laughs.)

PLATONOV. I knew him once as well. His name, I think, is Mikhail Vasilich.

Laughter.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Yes, yes . . . His name is Mikhail Vasilich. When I knew him, he was still a student, almost a boy . . . You’re laughing, gentlemen . . . But I really don’t see anything funny about what I said . . .

ANNA PETROVNA (roars with laughter and points to Platonov). Well, recognize him at last or else he’ll explode with the suspense!

PLATONOVgets to his feet.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (gets to her feet and looks at Platonov). Yes . . . it is him. Why don’t you say something, Mikhail Vasilich? . . . Is it . . . really you?

PLATONOV. You don’t recognize me, Sofya Yegorovna? No wonder! Four and a half years have gone by, almost five, and my last five years were worse than rats for chewing up a human face . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (gives him her hand). Only now I’m beginning to recognize you. How you’ve changed!

VOINITSEV (escorts Sasha to Sofya Yegorovna). And let me introduce his wife! . . . Aleksandra Ivanovna, the sister of one of our wittiest people — Nikolay Ivanych!

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (gives Sasha her hand). Pleased to meet you. (Sits.) You’re already married! . . . A long time? Still, five years . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Attaboy, Platonov! He never goes anywhere, but he knows everybody. Sophie, I commend him as a friend of ours!

PLATONOV. This magnificent commendation gives me the right to ask you, Sofya Yegorovna, how are you in general? How’s your health?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. I’m all right in general, but my health is rather poor. And how are you? What are you doing these days?

PLATONOV. Fate has toyed with me in a way I never could have predicted in the days when you regarded me as a second Byron,²⁵ and I saw myself as a future Minister of Special Affairs and a Christopher Columbus. I’m a school teacher, Sofya Yegorovna, and that’s all.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. You?

PLATONOV. Yes, me . . .

Pause.

I suppose it does seem a bit odd . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Incredible! Why . . . Why not something more?

PLATONOV. One sentence wouldn’t be enough, Sofya Yegorovna, to answer your question . . .

Pause.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. You didn’t even graduate from the university?

PLATONOV. No. I dropped out.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Hm . . . All the same, that doesn’t prevent your being a somebody, does it?

PLATONOV. Sorry . . . I don’t understand your question . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. I didn’t express myself clearly. It doesn’t stand in the way of your being a person . . . I mean, someone who works for a cause . . . for instance, at least, freedom, women’s emancipation . . . It doesn’t stand in the way of your being the spokesman for a cause?²⁶

TRILETSKY (aside). What a load of rubbish!

PLATONOV (aside). Here we go! Hm . . . (To her.) How can I put it? It probably doesn’t stand in my way, but . . . what way is there to stand in? (Laughs.) Nothing can stand in my way . . . I am an immovable rock. Immovable rocks are created to stand in the way all on their own . . .

Enter SHCHERBUK.

SCENE XIV

The same and SHCHERBUK.

SHCHERBUK (in the doorway). Don’t give the horses any oats: they pulled very badly!

ANNA PETROVNA. Hoorah! My gentleman friend is here!

EVERYONE. Pavel Petrovich!

SHCHERBUK (silently kisses the hands of Anna Petrovna and Sasha, then bows to the men, each one individually, and makes a bow all ‘round). My friends! Tell me, unworthy individual that I am, where is that singular female, whom my soul yearns to behold! I suspect and believe that this singular female is she! (Points to Sofya Yegorovna.) Anna Petrovna, may I ask you to introduce me to her, so that she learns what sort of man I am!

ANNA PETROVNA (links arms with him and leads him to Sofya Yegorovna). Retired Guards Cornet Pavel Petrovich Shcherbuk!

SHCHERBUK. And what about my qualities?

ANNA PETROVNA. Oh yes . . . Our friend, neighbor, dance partner, guest, and creditor.

SHCHERBUK. Indeed! Closest friend of His Excellency the late General! Under his command I would capture the fortresses, known by the name of the ladies’ polonaise.²⁷ (Bows.) May I take your hand, ma’am!

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (extends her hand and then withdraws it). Very kind of you, but . . . it isn’t necessary.

SHCHERBUK. Offense taken, ma’am . . . Your husband I held in my arms, when he was still toddling under the table . . . I bear a mark from him which I shall carry to my grave. (Opens his mouth.) In here! Missing tooth! See it?

Laughter.

I held him in my arms, and Seryozhenka, with a pistol he happened to be fooling around with, delivered a reprimand to my teeth. Heh, heh, heh . . . The scalawag! Dear lady, whose name I have not the honor of knowing, keep him in line! Your beauty reminds me of a certain picture . . . Only the little nose is different . . . Won’t you give me your hand?

PETRIN takes a seat next to Vengerovich Sr. and reads the paper aloud to him.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (extends her hand). If you insist . . .

SHCHERBUK (kisses her hand). Merci to you! (to Platonov.) Are you well, Mishenka? What a fine young fellow you’ve grown to be! (Sits down.) I knew you back in the days when you still gazed at God’s green earth in bewilderment . . . And you keep growing and growing . . . Phooey!²⁸ evil eye begone! Well done! What a good-looking fellow! Now why don’t you join the army, Cupid?²⁹

PLATONOV. Weak chest, Pavel Petrovich!

SHCHERBUK (points at Triletsky). He told you that? Believe him, that empty vessel, and you’ll soon be losing your head!

TRILETSKY. Please don’t be abusive, Pavel Petrovich.

SHCHERBUK. He treated my lumbago . . . Don’t eat this, don’t eat that, don’t sleep on the floor . . . Well, he didn’t cure it. So I ask him: “Why did you take my money, and not cure me?” So he says: “It’s an either-or situation,” he says, “either I cure you or I take your money.” How do you like that sort of fellow?

TRILETSKY. Why are you lying, Beelzebub Bucephalovich?³⁰ How much money did you give me, may I ask? Try to remember! I paid you six visits and got only a ruble, and a torn one at that . . . I wanted to give it to a beggar and the beggar wouldn’t take it. “It’s all tore up,” he says, “ain’t no serial number!”

SHCHERBUK. He came by six times not because I was sick, but because my tenant’s daughter is a kek shows.³¹

TRILETSKY. Platonov, you’re sitting next to him . . . Bop him one on his bald spot for me! Do me a favor!

SHCHERBUK. Leave me alone! That’s enough! Do not rouse the sleeping lion! You’ve got a lot to learn. (To Platonov.) And your father was a fine fellow too! He and I and the colonel were great friends. Quite the practical joker he was! Nowadays you won’t find three such mischief-makers as we were . . . Ehhh. Those times are gone forever . . . (to Petrin.) Gerasya! Show some fear of God! We’re conversing here, and you’re reading aloud! Show some manners!

PETRIN goes on reading.

SASHA (nudges Ivan Ivanovich’s shoulder). Papa! Papa, don’t fall asleep here! Shame on you!

IVAN IVANOVICH wakes up and a minute later falls asleep again.

SHCHERBUK. No . . . I can’t talk! . . . (Gets up.) Listen to him . . . He’s reading! . . .

PETRIN (gets up and walks over to Platonov). What did you say, sir?

PLATONOV. Absolutely nothing . . .

PETRIN. No, you said something, sir . . . You said something about Petrin . . .

PLATONOV. You were dreaming, I suppose . . .

PETRIN. Are you criticizing, sir?

PLATONOV. I didn’t say anything! I assure you that you dreamed it up!

PETRIN. You can say whatever you like . . . Petrin . . . Petrin . . . What about Petrin? (Stuffs the paper into his pocket.) Petrin, maybe, studied at the university, got a degree in law, maybe . . . Are you aware of that? . . . My law degree will be part of me until my dying day . . . So that’s how it is, sir. A senior civil servant . . . Are you aware of that? And I have lived longer than you. Six decades, thank God, I have endured.

PLATONOV. Pleased to hear it, but . . . what’s the point of all this?

PETROV. Live as long as I have, dear heart, and you’ll find out! Living a life is no joke! Life takes a bite out of you . . .

PLATONOV (shrugs). Honestly, I don’t know what you’re getting at, Gerasim Kuzmich . . . I don’t understand you . . . You started talking about yourself, and made a transition from yourself to life . . . What do you and life have in common?

PETRIN. When life breaks you down, shakes you up, when you start to be wary of young people . . . Life, my good sir . . . What is life? Here’s what it is, sir! When a man is born, he walks down one of three roads in life, for there are no other paths: you go to the right—wolves will devour you, you go to the left—you will devour the wolves, you go straight ahead—you will devour yourself.

PLATONOV. Do tell . . . Hm . . . You came to this conclusion by a scientific method, by experience?

PETRIN. By experience.

PLATONOV. By experience . . . (Laughs.) With due respect, Gerasim Kuz-mich, tell it to the judge, not to me . . . On the whole I’d advise you not to talk to me about higher matters . . . It makes me laugh and, honest to God, I don’t believe it. I don’t believe in your senile, home-spun wisdom! I don’t believe, friends of my father, I deeply, ever so sincerely don’t believe in your simple-minded speeches about profound topics, or in anything your minds can come up with.

PETRIN. Indeed, sir . . . Really . . . You can make anything out of a young tree: a cottage and a ship and anything you like . . . but one that’s old, stout and tall is good for damn all . . .

PLATONOV. I’m not talking about old men in general; I’m talking about my father’s friends.

GLAGOLYEV SR. I was also a friend of your father, Mikhail Vasilich!

PLATONOV. He had no end of friends . . . Once upon a time, the whole yard would be packed with carriages and gigs.

GLAGOLYEV SR. No . . . So that means you don’t believe in me either? (Roars with laughter.)

PLATONOV. Hm . . . How can I put this? . . . Even in you, Porfiry Semy-onych, I believe very little.

GLAGOLYEV SR. Is that so? (Extends his hand.) Thank you, my dear boy, for your frankness! Your frankness makes you even more appealing.

PLATONOV. You’re a good sort . . . I even respect you profoundly, but . . . but . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. Please, go on and say it!

PLATONOV. But . . . but one has to be only too gullible to believe in those characters from Fonvizin’s comedies, those mealy-mouthed do-gooders and sickly-sweet lovers who spend their lives rubbing elbows with total swine and riffraff,³² and those petty tyrants who are venerated because they do neither good nor evil. Don’t be angry, please!

ANNA PETROVNA. I don’t care for this sort of conversation, especially when it’s Platonov doing the talking . . . It always ends badly. Mikhail Vasilich, let me introduce you to our new acquaintance! (Indicates Vengerovich Jr.) Isak Abramovich Vengerovich, a university student . . .

PLATONOV. Ah . . . (Gets up and goes to Vengerovich Jr.) Pleased to meet you! Delighted. (Extends his hand.) I’d give a great deal nowadays to have the right to be called a student again . . .

Pause.

I’m holding out my hand . . . Take mine or give me yours . . .

VENGEROVICH JR. I won’t do either . . .

PLATONOV. What?

VENGEROVICH JR. I won’t give you my hand.

PLATONOV. A riddle . . . Why not, sir?

ANNA PETROVNA (aside). What the hell!

VENGEROVICH JR. Because I have my reasons . . . I despise such persons as you!

PLATONOV. Bully for you . . . (Looks him over.) I would tell you that makes me feel awfully good, except that it would tickle your vanity, which has to be safeguarded for what comes next . . .

Pause.

You look down on me like a giant gazing on a pygmy. Could it be you are in fact a giant?

VENGEROVICH JR. I’m an honest man and not a vulgarian.

PLATONOV. For which I congratulate you . . . It would be pretty strange for a young student to be a dishonest man . . . None of us is questioning your honesty . . . Won’t you give me your hand, young man?

VENGEROVICH JR. I don’t dole out charity.

TRILETSKY goes “Boo.”

PLATONOV. You don’t? That’s your business . . . I was referring to courtesy, not charity . . . You despise me that intensely?

VENGEROVICH JR. As much as a man can, who wholeheartedly hates vulgarity, servility, buffoonery . . .

PLATONOV (sighs). It’s been a long time since I’ve heard a speech like that . . . “And a mem’ry of home rings out in the songs of the coachman!” . . .³³ I too was once an expert at tossing such bouquets . . . Only, unfortunately, this is all rhetoric . . . Charming rhetoric, but mere rhetoric . . . If only there were a smidgeon of sincerity . . . False notes jar terribly on an unpracticed ear . . .

VENGEROVICH JR. Shouldn’t we put an end to this talk?

PLATONOV. What for? They’re listening to us so avidly, and besides we haven’t had time to get sick of one another . . . Let’s keep talking in the same vein . . .

VASILY runs in, followed by OSIP.

SCENE XV

The same and OSIP.

OSIP (enters). Ahem . . . I have the honor and pleasure of wishing Your Excellency well on her arrival . . .

Pause.

I wish you all that you wish God to grant you.

Laughter.

PLATONOV. Whom do I see?! The devil’s bosom buddy! The terror of the countryside! The most hair-raising of mortals!

ANNA PETROVNA. What have you got to say for yourself! You’re not wanted here! Why did you come?

OSIP. To wish you well.

ANNA PETROVNA. A lot I need that! Clear out of here!

PLATONOV. Are you the one who, in darkest night and light of day, strikes fearsome terror into the hearts of men? I haven’t seen you for ages, manslaughterer, the six sixty-six prophesied by the Apocalypse!³⁴ Well, my friend? Expatiate on something! Lend your ears to Osip the great!

OSIP (bows). On your arrival, Your Excellency! Sergey Pavlych! On your lawful marriage! God grant that everything . . . that when it comes to family you get the best . . . of everything! God grant it!

VOINITSEV. Thank you! (to Sofya Yegorovna.) Here, Sophie, may I introduce the Voinitsev bogeyman!

ANNA PETROVNA. Don’t detain him, Platonov! Let him go! I’m angry with him. (To Osip.) Tell them in the kitchen to give you something to eat . . . Look at those animal-like eyes! Did you steal a lot of our wood last winter?

OSIP (laughs). Three or four little trees . . .

Laughter.

ANNA PETROVNA (laughs). You’re lying, it’s a lot more! And he’s even got a watch-chain! Tell me! Is it a gold watch-chain? Would you tell me what time it is?

OSIP (looks at the clock on the wall). Twenty-two minutes past one . . . May I kiss your little hand!

ANNA PETROVNA (extends her hand to him). There, kiss it . . .

OSIP (kisses her hand). Most grateful to Your Excellency for your kind indulgence! (Bows.) Why are you holding on to me, Mikhail Vasilich?

PLATONOV. I’m afraid that you’re going to leave. I love you, my dear fellow! What a strapping youth, double damn you! What was the bright idea, wiseguy, in coming here?

OSIP. I was chasing that fool, that Vasily, and wound up in here by accident.

PLATONOV. A clever man chases a fool, and not the other way round! I am honored, gentlemen, to make an introduction! A most interesting specimen! One of the most interesting bloodthirsty beasts of prey in the zoological museum of today! (Turns Osip around in all directions.) Known to each and every one as Osip, horse thief, freeloader, homicide, and thief. Born in Voinitsevka, committed robbery and murder in Voinitsevka, and lost and gone forever in that same Voinitsevka!

Laughter.

OSIP (laughs). You’re a wonderful man, Mikhail Vasilich!

TRILETSKY (inspects Osip). What’s your occupation, my good man?

OSIP. Stealing.

TRILETSKY. Hm . . . A pleasant occupation . . . But what a cynic you are!

OSIP. What does cynic mean?

TRILETSKY. Cynic is a Greek word, which, translated into your language, means: a swine who wants the whole world to know he is a swine.

PLATONOV. He’s smiling, ye gods! What a smile! And that face, what a face! There’s two tons of iron in that face! You’ve have a hard time breaking it on a stone! (Walks him over to the mirror.) Look at that, you monstrosity! See it? Doesn’t it surprise you?

OSIP. Just an ordinary man! Not so much as that . . .

PLATONOV. Is that right? And not a paladin? Not Ilya Muromets?³⁵ (Claps him on the shoulder.) O courageous, unconquered Russian! What sense do we make compared to thee? Petty little creatures, parasites, we huddle in our corner, we don’t know where we belong . . . We should be thy companions, we need a wilderness with champions, paladins with heads that weigh a ton, hissing and whistling. Could you have bumped off Nightingale the Bandit?³⁶ Eh?

OSIP. Who can tell!

PLATONOV. You would have bumped him off! After all, you’re strong enough! Those aren’t muscles, but steel cables! Which reminds me, why aren’t you on a chain gang?³⁷

ANNA PETROVNA. Cut it short, Platonov! Honestly, you make me sick and tired.

PLATONOV. You’ve been in jail at least once, Osip?

OSIP. On occasion . . . I’m there every winter.

PLATONOV. That’s the way it should be . . . It’s cold in the forest—go to jail. But why aren’t you on a chain gang?

OSIP. I don’t know . . . Let me go, Mikhail Vasilich!

PLATONOV. Aren’t you of this world? Are you beyond time and space? Are you beyond customs and laws?

OSIP. Excuse me, sir . . . What it says in the law is, you only get sent to Siberia when they prove a case against you or catch you in the commission of a crime . . . Everybody knows, let’s say, that I’m, let’s say, a thief and a robber (laughs), but not everybody can prove it . . . Hm . . . Nowadays folks ain’t got no gumption, they’re stupid, no brains, I mean . . . Scared of everything . . . So they’re scared to testify . . . They could have got me exiled, but they ain’t got the hang of the law . . . Everything puts ‘em in a panic . . . Folks nowadays are jackasses, long story short . . . They’d rather be trying something on the sly, ganging up on you . . . Lowdown, no-good folks . . . Ignorant . . . And it’s no shame if folks like that get hurt . . .

PLATONOV. What cogent reasoning from a scoundrel! Arrived at his own conclusions, the repulsive brute! And on a theoretical basis at that . . . (Sighs.) The foul things that are still possible in Russia! . . .

OSIP. I ain’t the only one to figure it out, Mikhail Vasilich! Nowadays everybody figures like that. Take, for instance, Abram Abramych there . . .

PLATONOV. Yes, he’s yet another outlaw . . . Everybody knows it, and nobody testifies.

VENGEROVICH SR. I suggest you leave me in peace . . .

PLATONOV. There’s no point in bringing him up . . . You two are the same; the only difference is that he’s smarter than you and happy as the day is long. Besides . . . he can’t be called names to his face, but you can. Two peas in a pod, but . . . Sixty taverns, my friend, sixty taverns, and you haven’t got sixty kopeks!

VENGEROVICH SR. Sixty-three taverns.

PLATONOV. In a year’s time he’ll have seventy-three . . . He’s a public benefactor, gives charity dinners, is widely respected, everyone doffs his cap to him, whereas you . . . you’re a great man, but . . . pal, you don’t know how to lead your life! You don’t know how to lead your life, you public enemy!

VENGEROVICH SR. You’re letting your imagination run away with you, Mikhail Vasilich! (Gets up and sits on a different chair.)

PLATONOV. He’s got more lightning rods to protect his head . . . He’ll live peaceably for as many years as he’s lived already, if not more, and he’ll die . . . he’ll die even more peaceably!

ANNA PETROVNA. Stop it, Platonov!

VOINITSEV. Take it easy, Mikhail Vasilich! Osip, get out of here! Your presence is only aggravating the Platonovian instincts.

VENGEROVICH SR. He wants to chase me out of here, but he won’t succeed!

PLATONOV. I will succeed! If I don’t succeed, I’ll leave myself!

ANNA PETROVNA. Platonov, won’t you give over? Stop speechifying, and tell me plainly: are you going to give over or not?

SASHA. Shut up, for heaven’s sake! (Quietly.) It’s indecent! You’re embarrassing me!

PLATONOV (to Osip). Beat it! My cordial wishes for your speediest departure!

OSIP. Marya Petrovna’s got a parrot that calls everybody and their dog fools, and when it gets an eyeful of a vulture or Abram Abramych, it screeches: “Damn you!” (Roars with laughter.) Good-bye, sir! (Exits.)

SCENE XVI

The same, less OSIP.

VENGEROVICH SR. Of all people, you’re the last one, young man, to venture to lecture me on morality and certainly not in that way. I am a citizen and, to tell the truth, a useful citizen . . . I’m a father, and who are you? Who are you, young man? Excuse me, a show-off, a landowner who’s frittered away his estate, who has assumed a sacred duty, to which he has not the slighest qualification, being a depraved individual . . .

PLATONOV. A citizen . . . If you’re a citizen, then it is a very dirty word! A four-letter word!

ANNA PETROVNA. He won’t give over! Platonov, why are you poisoning the day for us with your preaching? Why do you have to talk out of turn? And who gave you the right?

TRILETSKY. How can one live in peace with these most righteous and honorable of men . . . They meddle in everything, make everything their business, poke their noses in everything . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. They started, gentlemen, with Are you well? and end with Please drop dead . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Bear in mind, Platonov, that “if guests start name-calling, the hostess starts bawling . . .”

VOINITSEV. That is correct, and from this moment on let there be a general hush . . . Peace, harmony, and silence!

VENGEROVICH SR. He won’t give me a moment’s peace! What did I ever do to him? He’s a fraud!

VOINITSEV. Hush . . .

TRILETSKY. Let them call each other names! All the more fun for us.

Pause.

PLATONOV. When you take a hard look and give it serious thought, you could faint! . . . And what’s worst of all is that anyone who is the least bit honest, sensible, keeps his mouth shut, silent as the tomb, and only stares . . . Everyone stares at him in fear, everyone kowtows to this obese, gilded upstart, everyone is in debt to him up to their eyebrows! Honor’s gone down the drain!

ANNA PETROVNA. Calm down, Platonov! This is last year’s story all over again, and I won’t stand for it!

PLATONOV (drinks some water). All right. (Sits down.)

VENGEROVICH SR. All right.

Pause.

SHCHERBUK. I am a martyr, my friends, a martyr!

ANNA PETROVNA. Now what?

SHCHERBUK. Woe is me, my friends! Better lie in your grave than live with a shrewish wife! We had another blow-up! She almost killed me a week ago with that devil of hers, that red-headed Don Juan.³⁸1 was asleep in the yard under the apple tree, I was savoring my dreams, and poring over visions of the past with envy . . . (Sighs.) All of a sudden . . . all of a sudden it’s as if someone’s bopping me on the head! Good Lord! The end, I think, has come! An earthquake, warring elements, a flood, a rain of fire . . . I open my eyes, and there stands Rusty . . . Rusty attacks me by my flank, and wallops that contingent with all his might, and then drops me on the ground! Then that wild woman jumped on me . . . Grabbed me by my innocent beard (grabs himself by the beard), and that was no picnic! (Slaps his bald spot.) They nearly killed me . . . I thought I’d kick the bucket . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. You’re exaggerating, Pavel Petrovich . . .

SHCHERBUK. She’s an old hag, older than anything on this earth, uglier than sin, and yet she’s . . . in love! Oh, you witch! And this suits Rusty fine . . . It’s my money he’s after, and not her love . . .

YAKOV enters and hands Anna Petrovna a calling card.

VOINITSKY. Who is it?

ANNA PETROVNA. Stop, Pavel Petrovich! (Reads.) “Comte Glagolief.” What’s all this formality for? Please, show him in! (to Glagolyev Sr.) Your son, Por-firy Semyonych!

GLAGOLYEV SR. My son? Out of the blue? He’s abroad!

Enter GLAGOLYEV JR.

SCENE XVII

The same and GLAGOLYEV JR.

ANNA PETROVNA. Kirill Porfirich! How kind of you!

GLAGOLYEV SR. (stands up). Kirill, you’re . . . here? (Sits down.)

GLAGOLYEV JR. Good afternoon, mesdames! Platonov, Vengerovich, Trilet-sky! . . . So that crackpot Platonov’s here . . . Greetings, regards, and respects! It’s awfully hot in Russia . . . Straight from Paris! Straight as an arrow from the land of the French! Phew . . . You don’t believe it? Word of honor as a gentleman! Only dropped off my trunk at home . . . Well, that Paris, ladies and gentleman! There’s a city for you!

VOINITSEV. Take a seat, Frenchie!

GLAGOLYEV JR. No, no, no . . . I didn’t come as a guest, but just . . . I just have to see my father . . . (To his father.) Listen, why are you doing this?

GLAGOLYEV SR. Doing what?

GLAGOLYEV JR. You want to pick a fight? Why didn’t you send me any money, when I asked for it, eh?

GLAGOLYEV SR. We’ll discuss it at home.

GLAGOLYEV JR. Why didn’t you send me any money? Are you making fun of me? Is everything a joke to you? Are you joking? Gentlemen, how can one live abroad without money?

ANNA PETROVNA. How did you find life in Paris? Do sit down, Kirill Porfirych!

GLAGOLYEV JR. Thanks to him I’ve come back with nothing but a toothbrush! I sent him thirty-five telegrams from Paris! Why didn’t you send me any money, I’m asking you! Are you blushing? Are you ashamed?

TRILETSKY. Don’t shout, please, your lordship! If you do shout, I shall send your calling card to the examining magistrate and have you legally charged with misappropriating the title of count which does not belong to you! It’s indecent!

GLAGOLYEV SR. Don’t, Kirill, there’ll be a scandal! I assumed that six thousand would be enough. Calm down!

GLAGOLYEV JR. Give me money, and I’ll go away again! Give it right now! Right now give it! I’ll go! Give it this minute! I’m in a hurry!

ANNA PETROVNA. Where are you off to in such a hurry? You’ve got time! Tell us about your travels instead . . .

YAKOV (enters). Luncheon is served!

ANNA PETROVNA. Really? In that case, ladies and gentlemen, let’s go and eat!

TRILETSKY. Eat! Hurra-a-ah! (With one hand he seizes Sasha’s hand and with the other Glagolyev Jr.’s and starts to run.)

SASHA. Let go! Let go, you holy terror! I can go by myself!

GLAGOLYEV JR. Let go of me! What is this boorishness? I don’t care for jokes. (Tears himself away.)

SASHA and TRILETSKY run out.

ANNA PETROVNA (takes Glagolyev Jr. by the arm). Let’s go, Parisian! There’s no point in fuming over nothing! Abram Abramych, Timofey Gordeich . . . Please! (Exits with Glagolyev Jr.)

BUGROV (gets up and stretches). Takes so long for lunch to show up around here, you can’t stop drooling. (Exits.)

PLATONOV (gives Sofya Yegorovna his hand). May I? What a look of wonder in your eyes! For you this world is undiscovered territory! This world (in an undertone) of fools, Sofya Yegorovna, arrant, obtuse, hopeless fools . . . (Exits with Sofya Yegorovna. )

VENGEROVICH SR. (to his son). Now you’ve seen him?

VENGEROVICH JR. He is a most original villain! (Exits with his father.)

VOINITSEV (nudges Ivan Ivanovich). Ivan Ivanych! Ivan Ivanych! Lunch!

IVAN IVANOVICH (leaps up). Huh? Somebody?

VOINITSEV. Nobody . . . Let’s go have lunch!

IVAN IVANOVICH. Very good, my dear fellow!

SCENE XVIII

PETRIN and GLAGOLYEV SR.

PETRIN. You’re willing to do it?

GLAGOLYEV SR. I’m not against it . . . I’ve already told you!

PETRIN. Darling boy . . . You definitely want to get married?

GLAGOLYEV SR. I don’t know, old pal. Is she still willing?

PETRIN. She is! Goddamn me, but she is!

GLAGOLYEV SR. Who knows? It isn’t right to think about . . . “Another’s heart is a shadowy part.” Why are you so concerned?

PETRIN. Who else should I be concerned about, darling boy? You’re a good man, she’s a wonderful woman . . . You want me to put in a word with her?

GLAGOLYEV SR. I’ll put in my own word. You keep still in the meantime and . . . if possible, please, don’t get involved! I know how to marry myself off. (Exits.)

PETRIN (alone). I wish he did! Saints in heaven, put yourselves in my shoes! . . . If the general’s lady marries him, I’m a rich man! My I.O.U.s will be paid, saints in heaven! I’ve even lost my appetite at this joyous prospect. The servants of God, Anna and Porfiry, be joined in holy matrimony, or, rather, Porfiry and Anna . . .

Enter ANNA PETROVNA.

SCENE XIX

PETRIN and ANNA PETROVNA.

ANNA PETROVNA. Why haven’t you gone in to lunch?

PETRIN. Dear lady, Anna Petrovna, may I drop a hint to you?

ANNA PETROVNA. Drop it, but do it quickly, please . . . I’ve got no time . . .

PETRIN. Hm . . . Could you let me have a little bit of money, dear lady?

ANNA PETROVNA. You call that a hint? That is far from a hint. How much do you need? One ruble, two?

PETRIN. Make a dent in your I.O.U.s. I’m fed up staring at those I.O.U.s . . . I.O.U.s are nothing but delusions, a nebulous dream. They say: you own something! But in fact it turns out you own nothing!

ANNA PETROVNA. Are you still on about that sixteen thousand? Aren’t you ashamed? Doesn’t it make your skin crawl every time you beg for that loan? Isn’t it disgraceful? What do you, an old bachelor, need with such ill-gotten gains?

PETRIN. I need them because they’re mine, dear lady.

ANNA PETROVNA. You finagled those I.O.U.s out of my husband, when he wasn’t sober, was ill . . . Do you remember?

PETRIN. What if I did, dear lady? In any case they are I.O.U.s, which means that they require repayment in cash. Money loves to be accounted for.

ANNA PETROVNA. All right, all right . . . That’s enough. I don’t have any money and never shall have for your sort! Beat it, sue me! Ech, you and your law degree! You’re going to die any day now, after all, so what’s the point of cheating people? You crank!

PETRIN. May I drop a hint, dear lady?

ANNA PETROVNA. You may not. (Goes to the door.) Go and work your gums!

PETRIN. If I may, dear lady! Dearest cousin, just one little minute! Do you like Porfiry?

ANNA PETROVNA. What’s this about? What business is it of yours, you shyster?

PETRIN. What business? (Slaps his chest.) And who, may I ask, was the best friend of the late major-general? Who closed his eyes on his deathbed?

ANNA PETROVNA. You, you, you! And said what a good boy am I!

PETRIN. I shall go and drink to the repose of his soul . . . (Sighs.) And to your health! Proud and arrogant, madam! Pride goeth before a fall . . . (Exits.)

Enter PLATONOV.

SCENE XX

ANNA PETROVNA and PLATONOV.

PLATONOV. How damned conceited can you get! You throw him out, and he sits there, as if nothing had happened . . . That is truly boorish, profiteering conceit! Penny for your thoughts, Excellency?

ANNA PETROVNA. Have you calmed down?

PLATONOV. I’ve calmed down . . . But let’s not get angry . . . (Kisses her hand.) Anybody, our dear general’s lady, has the right to throw every last one of them out of your house . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. How delighted I’d be, insufferable Mikhail Vasilich, to throw out all these guests! . . . But here’s the problem: the honor you speechified about on my behalf today is digestible only in theory, and not in practice. Neither I nor your eloquence has the right to throw them out. After all, they’re all our benefactors, our creditors . . . I only have to look cross-eyed at them — and tomorrow we will be off this estate . . . It’s either estate or honor, you see . . . I pick estate . . . Take this, dear windbag, any way you like, but if you don’t want me to depart these beautiful precincts, then stop reminding me about honor and don’t disturb my geese . . .³⁹ They’re calling me . . . Today after dinner we’ll go for a drive . . . Don’t you dare leave! (Claps him on the shoulder.) We’ll live it up! Let’s go and eat! (Exits.)

PLATONOV (after a pause). All the same I will kick them out . . . I’ll kick all of them out! . . . It’s stupid, tactless, but . . . I’ll kick them out . . . I promised myself to have nothing to do with that herd of swine, but what can you do? Character is something innate, and lack of character is even more so . . .

Enter VENGEROVICH JR.

SCENE XXI

PLATONOV and VENGEROVICH JR.

VENGEROVICH JR. Listen, Mister Schoolmaster, I would advise you to keep off my father.

PLATONOV. Merci for the advice.

VENGEROVICH JR. I’m not joking. My father has a great many friends and so could easily have your job. I’m warning you.

PLATONOV. A big-hearted youngster! What’s your name?

VENGEROVICH JR. Isaak.

PLATONOV. In other words, Abram begat Isaac. Thank you, big-hearted youngster! In your turn, be so kind as to convey to your dear papa that I wish that he and his great many friends drop dead! Go and have something to eat, otherwise they’ll gobble all of it up without you, youngster!

VENGEROVICH JR. (shrugs and goes to the door). Strange, if it weren’t so stupid . . . (Stops.) Do you assume that I am angry with you because you won’t leave my father in peace? Not at all. I’m studying you, I’m not angry . . . I’m studying you as an example of the modern Chatsky⁴⁰ and . . . I understand you! If you had been a cheerful sort, if you hadn’t been bored with being bone idle, then, believe me, you wouldn’t be picking on my father. You, Mister Chatsky, are not seeking truth, but amusing yourself, having fun at others’ expense . . . You haven’t got any menials around these days, but you have to take it out on somebody! So you take it out on all and sundry . . .

PLATONOV (laughs). Honest to God, that’s great! Why, you know, you’ve got the slightest glimmer of an imagination . . .

VENGEROVICH JR. The extraordinary thing is the revolting circumstance that you never pick a quarrel with my father one on one, tête-a-tête; you select the drawing-room for your amusements, where the fools can behold you in all your glory! Oh, what a ham!

PLATONOV. I’d like to have a talk with you ten years from now, even five . . . What shape will you be in then? Will you have the same impassive tone of voice, those flashing eyes? Actually, you’ll deteriorate a bit, youngster! Are your studies coming along all right? . . . I see by your face that they aren’t . . . You’re deteriorating! Anyway, go and eat! I won’t bandy words with you any more. I don’t like the dirty look on your face . . .

VENGEROVICH JR. (laughs). An aesthete. (Goes to the door.) Better a face with a dirty look on it than one that’s asking to be slapped.

PLATONOV. Yes, it is better . . . But . . . go and eat!

VENGEROVICH JR. We are not on speaking terms . . . Don’t forget that, please . . . (Exits.)

PLATONOV (alone). A youngster who doesn’t know a lot, thinks a lot, and talks a lot behind your back. (Looks through the doorway to the dining room.) And Sofya’s in there. Looking in all directions . . . She’s looking for me with her velvety eyes. What a pretty creature she is! How much beauty there is in her face! Her hair hasn’t changed! The same color, the same style . . . The many times I managed to kiss that hair! Wonderful memories that head of hair brings back to me . . .

Pause.

Has the time come when I have to settle for memories?

Pause.

Memory is a very good thing, but . . . can it be that for me . . . the end has come? Ugh, God forbid, God forbid! Death is preferable . . . I have to live . . . Keep on living . . . I’m still young!

Enter VOINITSEV.

SCENE XXII

PLATONOV and VOINITSEV and then TRILETSKY.

VOINITSEV (enters and wipes his mouth with a napkin). Let’s go and drink to Sophie’s health, there’s no reason to hide! . . . What’s wrong?

PLATONOV. I’ve been looking at and admiring your bride . . . A splendid young lady!

VOINITSEV laughs.

PLATONOV. You’re a lucky bastard!

VOINITSEV. Yes . . . I admit it . . . I am lucky. Not exactly lucky, from the point of view of . . . I can’t say that I’m completely . . . But generally speaking very lucky!

PLATONOV (looks through the doorway to the dining room). I’ve known her a long time, Sergey Pavlovich! I know her like the palm of my hand. How pretty she is now, but how much prettier she was then! It’s a shame you didn’t know her in those days! How pretty she is!

VOINITSEV. Yes.

PLATONOV. Those eyes?!

VOINITSEV. And the hair?!

PLATONOV. She was a wonderful girl! (Laughs.) As for my Sasha, my Avdotya, Matryona, Pelageya⁴¹ . . . She’s sitting over there! You can just see her behind that decanter of vodka! Touchy, excitable, upset by my behavior! Tormenting herself, poor thing, with the idea that now everyone condemns and hates me because I insulted Vengerovich!

VOINITSEV. Forgive the bluntness of the question . . . Are you happy with her?

PLATONOV. Family, pal . . . Take that away from me and I think I’d be a complete goner . . . Hearth and home! You’ll live and learn. Only it’s a shame you didn’t raise more hell, then you’d have a better idea of what a family is worth. I wouldn’t sell my Sasha for a million. We get along better than you can imagine . . . She’s brainless, and I’m worthless . . .

TRILETSKY enters.

(To Triletsky.) Full up?

TRILETSKY. To the max. (Slaps himself on the stomach.) Solid as a rock! Let’s go, my fine feathered friends, and have a drink . . . Gentlemen, we should toast the arrival of the hosts . . . Eh, pals . . . (Embraces the two of them.) So let’s have a drink! Eh! (Stretches.) Eh! This human life of ours! Blessed the man who heeds not the counsel of the unrighteous . . . (Stretches.) My fine feathered friends! You swindlers . . .

PLATONOV. Visited your patients today?

TRILETSKY. That’s for later . . . Or here’s what, Michel . . . I tell you once and for all. Stop bothering me! You and your sermons make me sick to my stomach! Be a lover of mankind! Recognize that I am a brick wall and you are a pea-shooter! Or if you absolutely must, if your tongue starts itching, then write down whatever you have to say. I’ll learn it by heart! Or, worst case scenario, you can even read your sermon to me at an appointed hour. I’ll give you one hour a day . . . From four to five in the afternoon, for instance . . . Are you willing? I’ll even pay you a ruble for that hour. (Stretches.) All day long, all day long . . .

PLATONOV (to Voinitsev). Explain to me, please, the meaning of that ad you put in the Intelligencer? Are things really that bad?

VOINITSEV. No, don’t worry! (Laughs.) It’s a little business deal . . . There’ll be an auction, and Glagolyev will buy our estate. Porfiry Semyonych will free us from the bank, and we’ll pay him, not the bank, the interest. It was his bright idea.

PLATONOV. I don’t understand. What’s in it for him? He’s not donating it to you, is he? I don’t understand this sort of donation, and you hardly . . . need it.

VOINITSEV. No . . . Actually, I don’t quite understand it myself . . . Ask maman, she’ll explain it . . . I just know that after the sale the estate will remain ours and that we’ll be paying off Glagolyev. Maman will immediately give him her five thousand as a down payment. Anyway, it’s not as easy to do business with the bank as it is with him. Ugh, I’m so fed up with that bank! Triletsky isn’t as fed up with you as I’m fed up with that bank! Let’s forget about business! (Takes Platonov by the arm.) Let’s go and drink to good feelings, my friends! Nikolay Ivanych! Let’s go, pal! (Takes Triletsky by the arm.) Let’s drink to our good relations, friends! Let fate take everything I own! All these business deals be damned! So long as the people I love are alive and well, you and my Sonya and my stepmother! My life is bound up in you! Let’s go!

PLATONOV. I’m coming. I’ll drink to it all and I suppose I’ll drink it all! It’s a long time since I’ve been drunk, and I’d like to get drunk.

ANNA PETROVNA (in the doorway). O friendship, ‘tis of thee! A lovely troika! (Drinks.) “Shall I harness to the troika swift . . .”

TRILETSKY. “Chestnut steeds . . .” Let’s start on the cognac, boys!

ANNA PETROVNA (in the doorway). Go on and eat, you scroungers! It’s all gone cold!

PLATONOV. Ugh, O friendship, ‘tis of thee! I was always lucky in love, but never lucky in friendship. I am afraid, gentlemen, that you may come to grief on account of my friendship! Let’s drink to the prosperous outcome of all friendships, ours included! May it end as calmly and gradually as it began! (They exit into the dining room.)

End of Act One

ACT TWO

TABLEAU ONE

The garden. Downstage a flowerbed with a little path around it. In the middle of the flowerbed a statue. On the statue’s head a lampion. Benches, chairs, little tables. At right the facade of the house. Porch steps. The windows are open. From the windows waft laughter, talk, the sounds of a piano and violin (a quadrille, waltzes, and so on). Upstage of the garden a Chinese gazebo, adorned with lanterns. Over the entrance to the gazebo a monogram with the letters “S. V.” Behind the gazebo a game of skittles is being played; we can hear the balls rolling and exclamations of “Five down! Four to go!” etc. The garden and the house are lit up. Guests and servants scurry about the garden. VASILY and YAKOV (in black tailcoats, drunk) are hanging lanterns and lighting lampions.

SCENE I

BUGROV and TRILETSKY (in a peaked cap with a cockade).

TRILETSKY (enters from the house, arm in arm with Bugrov). Come on, Tim-ofey Gordeich! What’s it cost you to let me have it? After all, it’s only a loan I’m asking for!

BUGROV. Honest to goodness, I can’t, sir! Please don’t be offended, Nikolay Ivanych!

TRILETSKY. You can, Timofey Gordeich! You can do anything! You can buy the whole universe and buy it back again, only you don’t want to! It’s a loan I’m asking for, isn’t it! Do you understand, you crackpot! Word of honor, I won’t pay it back!

BUGROV. You see, sir, you see, sir? You’ve blurted out I won’t get repaid!

TRILETSKY. I see nothing! All I see is your heartlessness. Let me have it, great man! You won’t? Let me have it, I tell you! I’m pleading, you’ve got me imploring you! Can you really be so heartless? Where is your heart?

BUGROV (sighs). Eh-heh-heh, Nikolay Ivanych! When it comes to treating patients, you don’t treat ‘em, but you do take your fee . . .

TRILETSKY. You said it! (Sighs.) You’re right.

BUGROV (pulls out his wallet). And the way you’re always sneering . . . The least little thing, and it’s: ha, ha, ha! How can you? You really shouldn’t . . . Maybe we’re uneducated, but even so we’re Christians, same as you, friend bookworm . . . If I’m talking foolish, then you should set me to rights and not laugh at me . . . All right then. We’re of peasant stock, rough and ready, we got thick hides, don’t ask too much of us, make allowances . . . (Opens his wallet.) This is the last time, Nikolay Ivanych! (Counts.) One . . . six . . . twelve . . .

TRILETSKY (looks into the wallet). Good Lord! And they keep saying Russians have no money! Where did you get all that?

BUGROV. Fifty . . . (Hands him the money.) The last time.

TRILETSKY. And what’s that banknote? Hand it over too. It’s peeking at me so winsomely! (Takes the money.) Let me have that note too!

BUGROV (gives it to him). Take it, sir! You’re awfully greedy, Nikolay Ivanych!

TRILETSKY. And all in one-ruble notes, all one-ruble notes . . . You been begging with a tin cup or what? Would you be passing me counterfeit money?

BUGROV. Please give ‘em back, if they’re counterfeit!

TRILETSKY. I would give them back, if you needed them . . . Merci, Timofey Gordeich! I hope you put on lots more weight and get a medal. Tell me, please, Timofey Gordeich, why do you lead such an abnormal life? You drink a lot, talk in a bass voice, sweat, don’t sleep when you should . . . For instance, why aren’t you sleeping now? You’re a hot-blooded fellow, sulky, touchy, grocery, for you it should be early to bed! You’ve got more veins than other people. How can you kill yourself this way?

BUGROV. Huh?

TRILETSKY. You and your huh! Anyway, don’t be afraid . . . I’m joking . . . It’s too soon for you to die . . . Go on living! Have you got lots of money, Timofey Gordeich?

BUGROV. Enough to last our lifetime.

TRILETSKY. You’re a good, clever fellow, Timofey Gordeich, but a terrific crook! Excuse me . . . I speak as a friend . . . We are friends, aren’t we? A terrific crook! How come you’re buying up Voinitsev’s I.O.U.s? How come you’re lending him money?

BUGROV. This business is past your understanding, Nikolay Ivanych!

TRILETSKY. You and Vengerovich want to get your hands on the General’s lady’s mines? The General’s lady, you figure, will take pity on her stepson, won’t let him go bankrupt, and will give you her mines? You’re a great man, but a crook! A swindler!

BUGROV. Tell you what, Nikolay Ivanych, sir . . . I’m going to take a little nap somewhere near the gazebo, and when they start serving supper, you wake me up.

TRILETSKY. Splendid! Get some sleep.

BUGROV (goes). And if they don’t serve supper, wake me up at half past ten! (Exits to the gazebo.)

SCENE II

TRILETSKY and then VOINITSEV.

TRILETSKY (inspects the money). Smells of peasant . . . He’s been robbing people blind, the scum! What can I do with it? (to Vasily and Yakov.) Hey, you hired hands! Vasily, call Yakov over here. Yakov, call Vasily over here! Crawl over here! Step lively!

YAKOV and VASILY walk over to Triletsky.

They’re in tailcoats! Ah, what the hell! You’re the spittin’ image of your betters! (Gives Yakov a ruble.) Here’s a ruble for you! (To Vasily.) Here’s a ruble for you! That’s because you’ve got long noses.

YAKOV and VASILY (bow). Much obliged, Nikolay Ivanych!

TRILETSKY. What’s wrong with you, you Slav slaves, wobbly on your legs? Drunk? Drunk as owls, the pair of you? You’ll catch it from the General’s lady, if she finds out! She’ll smack your ugly kissers! (Gives them each another ruble.) Here’s another ruble for you! That’s because your name is Yakov and his is Vasily, and not the other way ‘round. Take a bow!

YAKOV and VASILY bow.

Very good! And here’s another ruble for each of you because my name is Nikolay Ivanych, and not Ivan Nikolaevich! (Gives them more.) Take a bow! That’s it! Make sure you don’t spend it on drink! Or I’ll prescribe you bitter medicine! You are the spittin’ image of your betters! Go and light the lanterns! March! I’ve had enough of you!

YAKOV and VASILY walk away. VOINITSEV crosses the stage.

(To Voinitsev.) Here’s three rubles for you!

VOINITSEV takes the money, automatically puts it in his pocket and walks far upstage.

You might say thank you!

IVAN IVANOVICH and SASHA enter from the house.

SCENE III

TRILETSKY, IVAN IVANOVICH, and SASHA.

SASHA (entering). My God! When will it all end? And why hast Thou punished me this way? This one’s drunk, Nikolay’s drunk, so is Misha . . . At least have some fear of God, you shameless creatures, even if you don’t care what people think! Everybody’s staring at you! How, how can I show my face, when everyone’s pointing a finger at you!

IVAN IVANOVICH. That’s wrong, that’s wrong! Hold on . . . You’ve got me confused . . . Hold on . . .

SASHA. It’s impossible to take you to a respectable house. You’ve barely walked in the door and you’re already drunk! Ooh, you’re a disgrace! And an old man at that! You ought to set an example for them, and not drink with them!

IVAN IVANOVICH. Hold on, hold on . . . You’ve got me confused . . . What was I on about? Oh yes! And I’m not lying, Sasha girl! Believe you me! If I’d served another five years, I would’ve been a general! So you don’t think I’d have been a general? Shame! . . . (Roars with laughter.) With my temperament and not be a general? With my upbringing? You haven’t got a clue in that case . . . It means you haven’t got a clue . . .

SASHA. Let’s go! Generals don’t drink like this.

IVAN IVANOVICH. When they’re high-spirited, everybody drinks!! I would have been a general! And you shut up, do me a favor! Take after your mother! Yap-yap-yap . . . Good Lord, honest to God! She never let up, day and night, night and day . . . This isn’t right, that isn’t right . . . Yap-yap-yap . . . what was I on about? Oh yes! And you take after your late mother every which way, my teeny-weeny! All over . . . All . . . Your little eyes, and your pretty hair . . . And she waddled the same way, like a gosling . . . (Kisses her.) My angel! You’re your late mother every which way . . . Awful how I loved that poor woman! I didn’t look after her, old Fool Ivanych Merrymaker!

SASHA. That’s enough out of you . . . Let’s go! Seriously, papa . . . It’s time you gave up drinking and making scenes. Leave it to those roughnecks . . . They’re young, and besides it’s out of keeping for an old man like you, honestly . . .

IVAN IVANOVICH. I obey, my dear! I understand! I won’t . . . I obey . . . Yes indeed, yes indeed . . . I understand . . . What was I on about?

TRILETSKY (to Ivan Ivanovich). For you, your honor, a hundred kopeks! (Gives him a ruble.)

IVAN IVANOVICH. All right, sir . . . I’ll take it, my son! Merci . . . I wouldn’t take it from a stranger, but I’ll always take from my son . . . I’ll take it and rejoice . . . I don’t like strangers’ bank accounts, my dear children. God help me, I really don’t like ‘em! Honest, children! Your father’s honest! Not once in my life have I robbed either the nation or my household! And all I had to do was stick the tip of a finger in a certain place, and I would have been rich and famous!

TRILETSKY. Praiseworthy, but there’s no need to boast, Father!

IVAN IVANOVICH. I’m not boasting, Nikolay! I’m teaching you, my children! I’m instructing . . . We’ve got to answer for you before the Lord!

TRILETSKY. Where are you off to?

IVAN IVANOVICH. Home. I’m driving this buzzing bee home . . . Take me home, take me home . . . She made me promise . . . So I’ll drive her home. She’s afraid on her own . . . I’ll drive her home, and come back again.

TRILETSKY. Naturally, come back. (To Sasha.) Should I give some to you too? This is for you, and this is for you! A three-spot! A three-spot for you!

SASHA. Add another two while you’re at it. I’ll buy Misha some summer trousers, otherwise he’ll only have one pair. And there’s nothing worse than having only one! When they’re in the wash, he has to wear the heavyweight ones . . .

TRILETSKY. I wouldn’t give him anything, summer or heavyweight, if it were up to me: he can walk around you-know-how! But what’s to be done with you? Here, take another two! (Gives her money.)

IVAN IVANOVICH. What was I on about? Oh yes . . . Now I remember . . . All right . . . I served on the general staff, my children . . . I fought the foe-man with my wits, spilled Turkish blood⁴² with my brains . . . Never had any use for cold steel, no, no use at all . . . All right . . .

SASHA. Why are we standing around? It’s high time. Good-bye, Kolya! Let’s go, papa!

IVAN IVANOVICH. Hold on! Shut up, for Christ’s sake! Cheep-cheep-cheep . . . It’s like an aviary! This is how you should live, my children! Honorably, nobly, irreproachably . . . All right, all right . . . I got the Vladimir third class . . .⁴³

SASHA. That’s enough out of you, papa! Let’s go!

TRILETSKY. We know, without the speechifying, what sort of man you are . . . Go on, drive her home!

IVAN IVANOVICH. You are the cleverest fellow, Nikolay! A regular Pirogov!⁴⁴

TRILETSKY. Go on, go on . . .

IVAN IVANOVICH. What was I on about? Oh yes . . . I met Pirogov . . . Once when I was in Kiev⁴⁵. . . All right, all right . . . The cleverest fellow . . . Not standoffish . . . Now I’m going . . . Let’s go, Sashurka! I’ve got weak, children . . . Ready for the last rites . . . Ugh, Lord, forgive us sinners! We have sinned, we have sinned . . . All right, all right . . . I’m a sinner, dear children! Now I serve Mammon, and when I was young I didn’t pray to God. Nobody drove a harder bargain than me . . . Materialism! Stuff and Craft!⁴⁶ Ah, Lord . . . All right . . . Pray, dear children, that I don’t die! Have you gone already, Sashurochka? Where are you? That’s where you are . . . Let’s go . . .

ANNA PETROVNA looks out a window.

TRILETSKY. And won’t budge from the spot . . . Poor guy’s let his tongue run away with him . . . Well, go on! Don’t go by the mill, the dogs will nip at you.

SASHA. Kolya, you’ve got his cap on . . . Give it to him or he’ll catch cold . . .

TRILETSKY (takes off the cap and puts it on his father). Forward march, old fella! Left face . . . march!

IVAN IVANOVICH. Le-e-ft face! All right, all right . . . You’re right, Nikolay! God knows you’re right! And Mikhailo, my son-in-law, is right! A freethinker, but right! I’m going, I’m going . . . (They go.) Let’s go, Sasha . . . You going? Let me carry you!

SASHA. More of your nonsense!

IVAN IVANOVICH. Let me carry you! I always carried your mother . . . Used to carry her, though I’d be weaving back and forth . . . Once the two of us came tumbling down a hill . . . Only burst out laughing, the love, didn’t get angry at all . . . Let me carry you!

SASHA. Don’t make things up . . . Put your cap on straight. (Straightens his cap.) You’re still a splendid fellow to us!

IVAN IVANOVICH. All right, all right . . .

They exit. Enter PETRIN and SHCHERBUK.

SCENE IV

TRILETSKY, PETRIN, and SHCHERBUK.

PETRIN (comes out of the house arm in arm with Shcherbuk). Put down fifty thousand in front of me, and I’ll steal it . . . Word of honor, I’ll steal it . . . Just so long as nobody catches me . . . I’ll steal it . . . Put it down in front of you, and you’d steal it.

SHCHERBUK. I wouldn’t steal it, Gerasya! No!

PETRIN. Put down a ruble, and I’ll steal the ruble! Honest to goodness! Feh, feh! Who wants your honesty? An honest man is a stupid man . . .

SHCHERBUK. I’m a stupid man . . . Let me be a stupid man . . .

TRILETSKY. Here’s a ruble for each of you, elders of the tribe! (Gives each of them a ruble.)

PETRIN (takes the money). Let’s have it . . .

SHCHERBUK (roars with laughter and takes the money). Merci, Mister Doctor!

TRILETSKY. Bubbling over with the bubbly, respected gents?

PETRIN. A bit . . .

TRILETSKY. And here’s another ruble for each of you for a mass for your souls! You’re sinners, right? Take it! What you deserve is a turd apiece, but seeing it’s a party . . . I’m feeling generous, damn it all!

ANNA PETROVNA (out the window). Triletsky, give me a ruble too! (Hides.)

TRILETSKY. You get not one ruble, but five rubles, Major-General Widow! Right away! (Exits into the house.)

PETRIN (looks at the window). So the fairy is in hiding?

SHCHERBUK (looks at the window). She’s in hiding.

PETRIN. Can’t stand her! A bad woman! Too much pride . . . A woman ought to be modest, respectful . . . (Shakes his head.) Seen Glagolyev? There’s another tailor’s dummy! He sits in one spot, like a mushroom, keeps his mouth shut and bugs his eyes! Is that the way to woo the ladies?

SHCHERBUK. He’ll get married!

PETRIN. When will he get married? In a hundred years? Thank you kindly! In a hundred years I don’t need it.

SHCHERBUK. He doesn’t have to get married, Gerasya, he’s an old man . . . He should marry, if he absolutely has to, some little dimwit . . . And he’s not right for her . . . She’s young, high-spirited, a European lady, educated . . .

PETRIN. If only he would get married! I mean I want this so much I can’t find the words! After all, they got literally nothing from the death of the late General, may he rest in peace! She’s got the mines, but Vengerovich has been angling for them . . . How can I contend with Vengerovich? What can I get for their I.O.U.s now? If I call them in now, how much will I get?

SHCHERBUK. Nihil.⁴⁷

PETRIN. But if she marries Glagolyev, then I know what I’ll get . . . I’ll call in the I.O.U.s right away, force the sale of their property . . . No chance she’ll let her stepson be ruined, she’ll pay up! Eh-yeh-ugh! Come true, my dreams! Sixteen thousand, Pavochka!

SHCHERBUK. Three thousand of them mine . . . My battle-axe demands that I get it back . . . How can I get it? I don’t know how to get it . . . They’re not peasants . . . They’re friends . . . Let her come here herself and get it . . . Let’s go, Gerasya, to the servants’ quarters!

PETRIN. What for?

SHCHERBUK. To whisper ballads to the lady’s polonaise . . .

PETRIN. Is Dunyasha in the servants’ quarters?

SHCHERBUK. She is. (They go.) It’s more fun there . . . (Sings.) “Ah, unhappy is my lot, for no more do I dwell there!”

PETRIN. Tick-tock, tick-tock . . . (Shouts.) Yes, sir! (Sings.) “The new year merrily we’ll greet in true friends’ company . . .”

They exit.

SCENE V

VOINITSEV and SOFYA YEGOROVNA enter from the garden upstage.

VOINITSEV. What are you thinking about?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. I really don’t know . . .

VOINITSEV. You spurn my help . . . Aren’t I in a position to help you? What are these secrets, Sophie? Secrets from your husband . . . Hm . . .

They sit down.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. What secrets? I don’t know myself what’s going on inside me . . . Don’t torture yourself for no reason, Sergey! Don’t pay any attention to my moods . . .

Pause.

Let’s get away from here, Sergey!

VOINITSEV. From here?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Yes.

VOINITSEV. What for?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. I want to . . . Let’s go abroad. Shall we?

VOINITSEV. If you want to . . . But what for?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. It’s nice here, healthy, fun, but I just can’t . . . Everything’s going along nicely, happily, only . . . we have to leave. You gave your word not to ask questions.

VOINITSEV. We’ll leave tomorrow . . . Tomorrow we won’t be here any more! (Kisses her hand.) You’re bored here! That’s understandable! I understand you! It’s a hell of an environment! Petrins, Shcherbuks . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. It’s not their fault . . . Leave them out of it.

Pause.

VOINITSEV. Why is it you women always get so broody? What’s there to brood about? (Kisses his wife’s cheek.) Enough! Cheer up! Live as long as you’re alive! Why not give your brooding the brush-off, as Platonov would say? Aha! Platonov’s just the thing! Why don’t you talk to him more often? He’s not a shallow person, badly educated, or overly boring! Have a heart-to-heart with him, get it off your chest! He’ll soon cure you of your brooding! Talk to mama more often, and Triletsky . . . (Laughs.) Have a good talk, and don’t look down your nose at them! You still haven’t figured out these people . . . I commend them to you because these people are my kind of people. I love them. You’ll love them too when you get to know them better.

ANNA PETROVNA (out the window). Sergey! Sergey! Who’s there? Call Sergey Pavlovich!

VOINITSEV. What can I do for you?

ANNA PETROVNA. There you are! Let me have a minute!

VOINITSEV. Right away! (to Sofya Yegorovna.) We’ll leave tomorrow, if you don’t change your mind. (Goes into the house.)

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (after a pause). This is getting to be a real problem! I already go whole days without thinking about my husband, ignoring his presence, paying no attention to what he says . . . He’s starting to get on my nerves . . . What am I to do? (Thinks.) It’s dreadful! We haven’t been married very long and already . . . And all because of that . . . Platonov! I haven’t the strength, the character, nothing that could help me resist that man! He persecutes me all day long, tracks me down, his sharp eyes don’t let me alone for a moment . . . It’s dreadful . . . and stupid, after all! I haven’t even got the strength to answer for myself! If he were to make a move, anything might happen!

SCENE VI

SOFYA YEGOROVNA and PLATONOV.

PLATONOV comes out of the house.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Here he comes! His eyes are roaming, looking for someone! Whom is he looking for? From his way of walking I can see whom he’s after! How despicable of him not to leave me alone for a moment!

PLATONOV. It’s hot! Shouldn’t be drinking . . . (On seeing Sofya Yegorovna.) You here, Sofya Yegorovna? All on your lonesome? (Laughs.)

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Yes.

PLATONOV. Avoiding the mortals.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. There’s no reason for me to avoid them. They don’t bother me or get in my way.

PLATONOV. Really? (Sits beside her.) May I? But if you aren’t avoiding people, why, Sofya Yegorovna, are you avoiding me? What for? Excuse me, let me finish! I’ve very glad that I can finally have a word with you. You avoid me, pass me by, don’t look at me . . . Why is this? Are you being funny or serious?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. I wasn’t intending to avoid you! Where did you get that idea?

PLATONOV. At first your attitude seemed to be friendly toward me, you favored me with your kind attention, and now you don’t even want to see me! I go into one room — you go into another, I walk into the garden—you walk out of the garden, I start to talk to you, you clam up or say some flat, mopey “yes” and walk away . . . Our relationship has changed into a kind of misunderstanding . . . Is it my fault? Am I repulsive? (Gets up.) I don’t feel at fault in any way. Please be so kind right now as to spare me this boarding-school-miss, stupid situation! I don’t intend to put up with it any longer!

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. I admit I . . . do avoid you a bit . . . If I’d known that you found it unpleasant, I would have behaved differently . . .

PLATONOV. You do avoid me? (Sits down.) You admit it? But . . . what for, what’s the point?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Don’t shout, I mean . . . don’t talk so loudly! I hope you’re not going to scold me. I don’t like it when people shout at me. I am not avoiding you as a person, but talks with you . . . As a person you are, so far as I know, a good man . . . Everyone here loves you, respects you, some even admire you, consider it an honor to converse with you . . .

PLATONOV. Oh come on . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. When I first came here, right after our first talk, I became one of your fans myself, but, Mikhail Vasilich, I was unlucky, luck definitely did not come my way . . . You soon became almost unbearable to me . . . I can’t put it less harshly, forgive me . . . Almost every day you talked to me about how you loved me once, how I loved you, and so on . . . A student loved a girl, a girl loved a student . . . the story is too old and ordinary for anyone to talk about it so much and for either of us to invest any special significance in it . . . That’s not the point, though . . . The point is that when you talked to me about the past, you . . . you talked as if you were asking for something, as if back then, in the past, you had failed to obtain something that you wanted to have now . . . Every day your tone was monotonously the same, and every day it struck me that you were hinting at some sort of obligation laid on the two of us by our common past . . . And then it struck me that you are attaching too much significance . . . or, to put it more plainly, exaggerating our relationship as close friends! You stare so strangely, get carried away, shout, grab my hand, and follow me around . . . As if you were spying on me! What is it for? . . . In short, you won’t leave me alone . . . What is this surveillance all about? What am I to you? Honestly, one might think you were lying in wait for the right moment, which would somehow serve your purposes . . .

Pause.

PLATONOV. Is that all? (Gets up.) Merci for your candor! (Goes to the door.)

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Are you angry? (Gets up.) Wait, Mikhail Vasilich! Why take offense? I didn’t mean . . .

PLATONOV (stops). Eh you!

Pause.

So it turns out that you are not sick and tired of me, but that you’re scared, a coward . . . Are you a coward, Sofya Yegorovna? (Walks up to her.)

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Stop, Platonov! You’re a liar! I was not scared and I don’t intend to be scared!

PLATONOV. Where’s your will power, where’s the force of your well-regulated mind, if every slightly above-average man who comes along can pose a threat to your Sergey Pavlovich! I used to hang around here long before you showed up, but I talked to you, because I took you to be an intelligent woman who might understand! What deeply entrenched depravity! Nevertheless . . . Sorry, I got carried away . . . I have no right to say that to you . . . Forgive me for my bad manners . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. No one gave you the right to say such things! Just because people listen to you, it doesn’t follow that you have the right to say whatever comes into your head! Get away from me!

PLATONOV (roars with laughter). People are persecuting you?! Following you around, grabbing you by the hand? They want to abduct you, poor creature, from your husband?! Platonov is in love with you, the eccentric Platonov?! What happiness! Bliss! Why, what bonbons to feed our petty vanity, such as no candy store ever offered! Ridiculous . . . Gorging on sweets is out of character for a progressive woman! (Exits into the house.)

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. You’re rude and impertinent, Platonov! You’ve gone crazy! (Follows him and stops in the doorway.) It’s horrid! Why did he say all that? He wanted to confuse me . . . No, I won’t put up with it . . . I will go and tell him . . . (Exits into the house.)

SCENE VII

OSIP, YAKOV, and VASILY.

OSIP (enters). Five down! Six to go! What the hell are they up to! Would have had better luck playing cards with ‘em . . . Ten rubles a game . . . Whist or poker . . . (To Yakov.) How’re ya, Yasha! That fella . . . u-u-uh . . . Vengerovich here?

YAKOV. He’s here.

OSIP. Go and call ‘im! But call ‘im on the quiet! Tell ‘im that there’s a big deal on . . .

YAKOV. Sure. (Exits into the house.)

OSIP (breaks off a lantern, puts it out and sticks it in his pocket). Last year I was in town at Darya Ivanovna’s, the fence who runs a barroom with girls on tap, played cards . . . Three kopeks was the lowest stakes . . . But the forfeits came to two rubles . . . Won eight rubles . . . (Breaks off another lantern.) A hot time in the old town!

VASILY. Them lanterns ain’t hung up for you! Why tear ‘em down?

OSIP. Why, I didn’t see you there! How’re ya, jackass! How you getting on? (Walks over to him.) How’s business?

Pause.

Oh you swayback! Oh you pig’s nursemaid! (Takes off Vasily’s cap.) You’re a funny guy! Honest to God, real funny! Have you got even an ounce o’ brains? (Throws the cap on to a tree.) Slap my face because I’m a menace to society!

VASILY. Let somebody else slap it for you, I’m not going to hit you!

OSIP. But will you kill me? No, if you’re smart, you won’t gang up to kill me, but do it yourself! Spit in my face because I’m a menace to society!

VASILY. I won’t spit. Why don’t you leave me alone?

OSIP. You won’t spit? Afraid of me, is that it? Get down on your knees before me!

Pause.

Well? Kneel down! Who’m I talking to? The wall or flesh-and-blood?

Pause.

Who’m I talking to?

VASILY (kneeling down). This is wrong of you, Osip Ivanych!

OSIP. Ashamed to kneel? I like that a lot . . . A gent in a tailcoat, and on his knees in front of a robber . . . Well, now shout hurray at the top of your lungs . . . How about it?

Enter VENGEROVICH SR.

SCENE VIII

OSIP and VENGEROVICH SR.

VENGEROVICH SR. (enters from the house). Who is calling for me here?

OSIP (quickly removes his cap). Me, sir, your highandmightiness.

VASILY gets up, sits on the bench, and weeps.

VENGEROVICH SR. What do you want?

OSIP. You pleased to look in at the barroom and ask for me, so I came!

VENGEROVICH SR. Oh yes . . . But . . . couldn’t you at least pick another spot?

OSIP. For decent people, Your Excellency, any spot will do!

VENGEROVICH SR. I need you more or less . . . Let’s get away from here . . . Over to that bench!

They go to the bench far upstage.

Stand somewhat farther off, as if you weren’t talking to me . . . That’s it! The tavern-keeper Lev Solomonych sent you?

OSIP. Just so.

VENGEROVICH SR. No point to it . . . I didn’t want you, but . . . what’s to be done? You’re hopeless. It isn’t right to do business with you . . . You’re such a bad man . . .

OSIP. Very bad! Worse than anyone on earth.

VENGEROVICH SR. Not so loud! The amount of money I’ve made over to you, it’s dreadful, but you act as if my money were a pebble or some other piece of trash . . . You take liberties, you steal . . . You’re turning away? You don’t like the truth? Truth dazzles your eyes?

OSIP. It does, but not your kind, Your Excellency! You asked me here just to read me a lecture?

VENGEROVICH SR. Not so loud . . . You know . . . Platonov?

OSIP. Yes, the schoolteacher. Why wouldn’t I know ‘im?

VENGEROVICH SR. Yes, the schoolteacher. A teacher, who only teaches how to insult people and nothing more. How much would you charge to disable that teacher?

OSIP. What do you mean disable?

VENGEROVICH SR. Not kill, but disable . . . It doesn’t do to kill people . . . What’s the point of killing them? Murder is something that . . . Disable means beating him up so that he’ll remember it all his life long . . .

OSIP. That can be done, sir . . .

VENGEROVICH SR. Break some of his bones, disfigure his face . . . What’ll you charge? Shhh . . . Someone’s coming . . . Let’s go someplace farther off. . .

They walk far upstage . . . Enter from the house PLATONOV and GREKOVA.

SCENE IX

VENGEROVICH SR. and OSIP (upstage), PLATONOV and GREKOVA.

PLATONOV (laughs). What, what? How’s that? (Roars with laughter.) How’s that? I didn’t catch that . . .

GREKOVA. You didn’t catch it? Is that so? I can repeat it . . . I can express myself even more rudely . . . You won’t be offended, of course . . . You’re so used to all sorts of rudeness that my words will hardly come as a surprise . . .

PLATONOV. Speak out, speak out, my beauty!

GREKOVA. I am not a beauty. Anyone who thinks I’m a beauty has no taste . . . Frankly—I’m not beautiful, am I? What do you think?

PLATONOV. I’ll tell you later. Now you speak out!

GREKOVA. Then listen here . . . You are either an above-average man or else . . . a scoundrel, one or the other.

PLATONOV roars with laughter.

You’re laughing . . . Actually, it is funny . . . (Bursts out laughing.)

PLATONOV (roars with laughter). She said it! Bully for the little fool! Well, I’ll be! (Takes her round the waist.)

GREKOVA (sits down). However, let me . . .

PLATONOV. She’s just the same as other people! She philosophizes, practices chemistry, and the remarks she comes up with! Who’d have thought it of her, the wallflower! (Kisses her.) Very pretty little, crack-brained rascal . . .

GREKOVA. Do let me . . . What is this? I . . . I didn’t say . . . (Gets up and sits down again.) Why are you kissing me? I’m quite . . .

PLATONOV. She spoke and bowled me over! Let’s say something, says she, and startle him! Let him see how clever I am! (Kisses her.) She’s confused . . . she’s confused . . . Looks around stupidly . . . Ah, ah . . .

GREKOVA. You . . . you love me? Yes? . . . Yes?

PLATONOV (squeaks). And you love me?

GREKOVA. If . . . if . . . then . . . yes . . . (Weeps.) You do love me? Otherwise you shouldn’t act this way . . . You do love me?

PLATONOV. Not a smidge, my precious! I don’t love little fools, being a sinful man! I do love one fool, but there’s nothing to be done about that . . . Oh! She’s turned pale! Her eyes are shooting sparks! You’ll find out who you’re dealing with, says she! . . .

GREKOVA (rises). Are you making fun of me or what?

PLATONOV. Who knows, there may be a slap in the offing . . .

GREKOVA. I am proud . . . I don’t mean to soil my hands . . . I told you, my dear sir, that you are either an above-average man or a scoundrel, now I tell you that you are an above-average scoundrel! I despise you! (Exits into the house.) I won’t break into tears now . . . I’m glad that I’ve found out at last the sort of creature you are . . .

Enter TRILETSKY.

SCENE X

The same and TRILETSKY (in a top hat).

TRILETSKY (enters). The cranes are crying! Where did they drop in from? (Looks aloft.) So early . . .

GREKOVA. Nikolay Ivanych, if you respect me . . . even the slightest bit, break off relations with that man! (Points at Platonov.)

TRILETSKY (laughs). For pity’s sake! He is my most respected in-law!

GREKOVA. And friend?

TRILETSKY. And friend.

GREKOVA. I don’t envy you. And I don’t think I envy him either. You’re a kind man, but . . . that facetious tone . . . There are times when your jokes make me sick . . . No offense meant, but . . . I’ve been insulted, and you . . . make jokes! (Weeps.) I’ve been insulted . . . But, nevertheless, I will not burst into tears . . . I am proud. Be on good terms with this man, love him, admire his intelligence, fear him . . . You all think he’s like Hamlet . . . Well, admire him! It’s nothing to do with me . . . I don’t need anything from you . . . Crack jokes with him, as much as you like, that . . . scoundrel! (Exits into the house.)

TRILETSKY (after a pause). Got all that, pal?

PLATONOV. Not a clue . . .

TRILETSKY. It’s about time, Mikhail Vasilich, in all honor, in all conscience you left her alone. It’s really disgraceful . . . Such an intelligent, such a big man, and you get involved in this damned stuff . . . That’s why people call you a scoundrel . . .

Pause.

I can’t actually tear myself in half so that one half respects you and the other stays on friendly terms with a girl who’s called you a scoundrel . . .

PLATONOV. Don’t respect me, and you won’t have to tear yourself in half.

TRILETSKY. I can’t help but respect you! You don’t know yourself what you’re saying!

PLATONOV. That means there’s only one thing left: don’t be on friendly terms with her. I don’t understand you, Nikolay! What good can an intelligent man like you see in that little fool?

TRILETSKY. Hm . . . The General’s lady often scolds me for not being enough of a gentleman and points you out as a model gentleman . . . The way I see it, that scolding should be entirely directed at you, the model. Everyone, and especially you, is shouting from every rooftop that I’m in love with her, you laugh, tease, suspect, spy . . .

PLATONOV. Can you be a bit more explicit . . .

TRILETSKY. I think I am being perfectly explicit . . . And at the same time you can in all conscience call her a little fool, a piece of trash to my face . . . You’re no gentleman! Gentlemen know that people in love have a certain vanity . . . She is not a fool, buddy boy! She is not a fool! She is an innocent victim, that’s what! There are moments, my friend, when you need somebody to hate, somebody to sink your teeth into, somebody to play your dirty tricks on . . . Why not try it on her? She’s perfect! Weak, defenseless, looks up to you with such gullible confidence . . . I understand it all very well . . . (Gets up.) Let’s go get a drink!

OSIP (to Vengerovich). If you don’t let me have the rest afterward, I’ll steal hundreds more. Never you fear!

VENGEROVICH SR. (to Osip). Not so loud! Once you’ve beaten him up, don’t forget to say: “With the tavern-keeper’s compliments!” Ssh . . . Go away! (Goes towards the house.)

OSIP exits.

TRILETSKY. What the hell, Abram Abramych! (To Vengerovich.) Are you ill, Abram Abramych?

VENGEROVICH SR. Not at all . . . Thank God, I’m well.

TRILETSKY. What a pity! And I’m in such need of money! Can you believe it? Ready to cut my throat, as the saying goes . . .

VENGEROVICH SR. Consequently, Doctor, do your words imply that you need patients with throats to cut? (Laughs.)

TRILETSKY. A clever riposte! A bit heavy-handed, but still clever! Ha-ha-ha and encore ha-ha-ha! Laugh, Platonov! Lend me something, my dear man, if you can!

VENGEROVICH SR. You already owe me a great deal, Doctor!

TRILETSKY. Why bring that up? Common knowledge, isn’t it? Just how much do I owe you?

VENGEROVICH SR. Nearly . . . All right . . . Two hundred and forty-five rubles, I believe.

TRILETSKY. Give, great man! Oblige me, and I’ll oblige you one of these days! Be ever so kind, generous, and daring! The most daring of Jews is the one who lends money without a receipt! Be the most daring of Jews!

VENGEROVICH SR. Hm . . . Jews . . . Always Jews and more Jews . . . I assure you, gentlemen, that in all my life I’ve never seen a Russian who would lend money without a receipt, and I assure you that nowhere is it practiced so widely as by underhanded Jewry! . . . May God strike me dead, if I’m lying! (Sighs.) There are many, a great many things you young people could learn to your success and advantage from us Jews, and particularly from old Jews . . . A very great many things . . . (Pulls his wallet out of his pocket.) A person lends you money with enthusiasm, with pleasure, and you . . . love to laugh and make jokes . . . That’s no good, gentlemen! I’m an old man . . . I have got children . . . Think of me as a lowlife, but treat me like a human being . . . That’s what your studies at the university were all about . . .

TRILETSKY. Well said, Abram Abramych my friend!

VENGEROVICH SR. It’s no good, gentleman, it’s bad . . . A person might think that there was no difference between you, educated people, and my employees . . . And no one is permitted to call me his friend . . . How much do you want? It’s very bad, young people . . . How much do you want?

TRILETSKY. How much will you let me have . . .

Pause.

VENGEROVICH SR. I’ll let you have . . . I can give you . . . five hundred rubles . . . (Gives him the money.)

TRILETSKY. Splendid! (Takes the money.) Great man!

VENGEROVICH SR. You’ve got my hat, Doctor!

TRILETSKY. Yours, is it? Hm . . . (Takes off the hat.) Here, take it . . . Why don’t you have it cleaned? After all, it doesn’t cost much! What’s the Yiddish for top hat?

VENGEROVICH SR. Whatever you like. (Puts on the top hat.)

TRILETSKY. That top hat suits you, it’s in character. A baron, a regular baron!⁴⁸ Why don’t you buy yourself a title?

VENGEROVICH SR. I don’t know anything about that! Leave me alone, please!

TRILETSKY. You’re a great man! Why aren’t people willing to understand you?

VENGEROVICH SR. Why don’t people leave a man in peace, you ought to say! (Exits into the house.)

SCENE XI

PLATONOV and TRILETSKY.

PLATONOV. How come you took that money from him?

TRILETSKY. Just did . . . (Sits down.)

PLATONOV. What do you mean: just did?

TRILETSKY. I took it, end of story! Are you sorry for him or something?

PLATONOV. That’s not the point, chum!

TRILETSKY. Then what is?

PLATONOV. You don’t know?

TRILETSKY. I don’t know.

PLATONOV. Liar, you do know!

Pause.

I could have been smitten with a great love for you, my darling, if for at least one week, at least one day you had lived according to some rules, even the flimsiest ones! For characters like you, rules are as necessary as daily bread . . .

Pause.

TRILETSKY. I don’t know about that . . . It’s not up to you and me, pal, to reinvent our flesh! It’s not up to us to repress it . . . I knew this when you and I were still in high school getting flunked in Latin . . . Let’s cut the pointless chatter . . . Or may the roof of our mouths cleave to our tongues!⁴⁹

Pause.

The other day, pal o’ mine, I was visiting a certain lady I know, looking at the portraits of “Contemporary Movers and Shakers” and reading their biographies. And what do you think, dear fellow? Why, neither of us was among them, no! Couldn’t find us, no matter how hard I tried! Lasciate, Mikhail Vasilich, ogni speranza!⁵⁰—as the Italians say. I could not find you or me among the contemporary movers and shakers and — imagine! I couldn’t care less! Now Sofya Yegorovna is not like that . . . she does care . . .

PLATONOV. What’s Sofya Yegorovna got to do with this?

TRILETSKY. She’s miffed not to be amongst the “Contemporary Movers and Shakers” . . . She imagines all she has to do is lift her little finger—the terrestrial globe will gasp in amazement, humanity will fling up its cap in delight . . . She imagines . . . Hm . . . Not one intellectual novel contains as much twaddle as she does . . . And actually she’s not worth a red cent. Ice! Stone! A statue! It makes me feel like walking up to her and scraping a chip of plaster off her nose . . . The least little thing . . . instant hysterics, raising her voice, deep sighs . . . Not an ounce of grit in her . . . A clever doll . . . She regards me with contempt, considers me a waste of time . . . Just what makes her Seryozhenka better than you or I? Tell me what? His only virtues are that he doesn’t drink vodka, thinks lofty thoughts and without a twinge of conscience describes himself as a man of the future. However, judge not lest ye be judged . . . (Gets up.) Let’s go get a drink!

PLATONOV. I’m not coming. I suffocate in there.

TRILETSKY. I’ll go on my own. (Stretches.) By the way, what does that monogram S. and V. mean? Is it Sofya Voinitseva or Sergey Voinitsev? Whom did our philologist intend to honor by those initials, himself or his spouse?

PLATONOV. It occurs to me that those initials signify: “Salve Vengerovich!”⁵¹ On his money merrily we roll along.

TRILETSKY. Right . . . What’s up with the general’s lady today? She bursts out laughing, groans, goes around kissing everybody . . . As if she were in love . . .

PLATONOV. Who is there for her to fall in love with? Herself? Don’t you believe in her laughter. It’s impossible to believe in the laughter of a clever woman who never weeps: she laughs out loud whenever she wants to cry. Though our general’s lady doesn’t want to cry, but to shoot herself . . . You can see it in her eyes . . .

TRILETSKY. Women don’t shoot themselves, they take poison . . . But let’s not talk philosophy . . . Whenever I talk philosophy, I make up a pack of lies . . . A wonderful female that general’s lady of ours! Ordinarily I think awfully dirty thoughts whenever I look at a woman, but she is the only woman off whom my unbridled fantasies bounce like pebbles off a wall. The only one . . . When I look into her no-nonsense face, I start to believe in Platonic love. You coming?

PLATONOV. No.

TRILETSKY. I’ll go by myself . . . I’ll have a drink with the parish priest . . . (Goes and in the doorway bumps into Glagolyev Jr.) Ah! His lordship, the do-it-yourself count! Here’s three rubles for you! (Shoves three rubles into his hand and exits.)

SCENE XII

PLATONOV and GLAGOLYEV JR.

GLAGOLYEV JR. Curious personality! Right out of the blue: here’s three rubles for you! (Shouts.) I can give you three rubles myself! Hm . . . What an idiot! (to Platonov.) I’m genuinely appalled by his stupidity. (Laughs.) Monstrously stupid!

PLATONOV. Why aren’t you dancing, dancing-boy?

GLAGOLYEV JR. Dancing? Here? With whom, might I ask? (Sits beside him.)

PLATONOV. So there’s no one here?

GLAGOLYEV JR. Nothing but stereotypes! They’re all stereotypes, wherever you look! Those snouts, acquiline noses, airs and graces . . . And the ladies? (Roars with laughter.) What the hell do you call them! At such gatherings I always prefer the refreshments to the dancing.

Pause.

Here in Russia, however, the air is so stale! So dank, suffocating . . . I can’t stand Russia! . . . Ignorance, stench . . . Brrr . . . What a difference . . . You ever been to Paris?

PLATONOV. Never.

GLAGOLYEV JR. Pity. Even so, you’ve still got time to visit it. When you do go there, let me know. I shall reveal all the secrets of Paris to you. I shall give you three hundred letters of introduction, and put three hundred of the chic-est French tarts at your disposal . . .

PLATONOV. Thank you, I’ve got a full plate. Tell me, is it true what they’re saying, that your father wants to buy Platonovka?

GLAGOLYEV JR. I don’t know if it’s true. I keep myself aloof from business matters . . . But have you noticed how mon père⁵² is courting your general’s lady? (Roars with laughter.) There’s yet another stereotype! The old goat wants to get married! As thick as a plank! Though your general’s lady is charmante! Not bad at all!

Pause.

She’s quite a darling, quite a darling . . . And her figure?! Naughty, naughty! (Claps Platonov on the shoulder.) Lucky devil! Does she lace herself up? Lace herself up really tight?

PLATONOV. I don’t know . . . I’m not present when she gets dressed . . .

GLAGOLYEV JR. But I was told . . . Then you’re not . . .

PLATONOV. You’re the idiot, Count!

GLAGOLYEV JR. But I was joking . . . Why get angry? What a crackpot you are, really! (Quietly.) Is it true what they say, that sometimes she loves money to the point of blacking out?

PLATONOV. You’ll have to ask her about that yourself. I don’t know.

GLAGOLYEV JR. Ask her myself? (Roars with laughter.) What an idea! Platonov! What are you saying?!

PLATONOV (sits on another bench). You really are an expert at boring people stiff!

GLAGOLYEV JR. (roars with laughter). But what if I did ask her myself? And yet, why not ask her?

PLATONOV. Stands to reason . . . (Aside.) Just ask her . . . She’ll box your stupid ears for you! (To him.) Ask her!

GLAGOLYEV JR. (leaps up). I swear it’s a great idea! Damn and blast! I shall ask, Platonov, and I give you my word of honor that she’ll be mine! I feel it in my bones! I’ll ask her right away! I’ll make a bet that she’ll be mine! (Runs into the house and in the doorway bumps into Anna Petrovna and Triletsky.) Mille pardons, madame!⁵³ (Bows and scrapes and exits into the house.)

PLATONOV sits back in his old place.

SCENE XIII

PLATONOV, ANNA PETROVNA, and TRILETSKY.

TRILETSKY (on the porch steps). There he sits, our great sage and philosopher! He sits on the alert, impatient to pounce on his prey: whom shall he read a lecture to before bedtime?

ANNA PETROVNA. Not a nibble, Mikhail Vasilich!

TRILETSKY. That’s bad! Not taking the bait today for some reason! Poor moralist! I feel sorry for you, Platonov! However, I am drunk and . . . however, the deacon is waiting for me! Good-bye! (Exits.)

ANNA PETROVNA (goes to Platonov). Why are you sitting here?

PLATONOV. It’s suffocating inside the house, and this lovely sky is better than your ceiling whitewashed by peasant women!

ANNA PETROVNA (sits down). Isn’t it splendid weather! Pure air, cool, a starry sky, and the moon! I’m sorry that it isn’t possible for our class to sleep outside in the open air. When I was a little girl, I always spent the night in the garden in summer.

Pause.

Is that a new necktie?

PLATONOV. It is.

Pause.

ANNA PETROVNA. I’ve been in rather an odd mood today . . . Today I like everything . . . I’m having fun! Now tell me something, Platonov! Why do you keep silent? I came out here precisely to hear you talk . . . That’s just like you!

PLATONOV. Talk about what?

ANNA PETROVNA. Tell me something a bit novel, a bit nice, a bit spicy . . . Today you’re so very clever, so very good-looking . . . Honestly, I think that I’m more in love with you today than ever . . . You’re such a darling today! And not such a trouble-maker!

PLATONOV. And today you are such a beauty . . . But then you always are a beauty!

ANNA PETROVNA. Are we friends, Platonov?

PLATONOV. In all likelihood . . . Probably we are friends . . . What else can you call it but friendship?

ANNA PETROVNA. In any case, friends, right?

PLATONOV. I would even declare, great friends . . . I’m extremely used to you and attached . . . It would take a long time to break myself of the habit of you . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Great friends?

PLATONOV. Why all these niggling questions? Cut it out, dear lady! Friends . . . friends . . . Just like an old maid . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. All right . . . We are friends, and you do know that a friendship between a man and a woman is only one step away from love, my dear sir?

PLATONOV. So that’s it! (Laughs.) Why are you bringing that up? You and I are never going to stroll down the road to perdition, no matter how far we stray . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Love as the road to perdition . . . What a metaphor! Your wife’s not listening now! Pardon, if I’m getting too familiar . . . For heaven’s sake, Michel, it just popped out! Why shouldn’t we stroll down that road? Are we human or not? Love is a good thing . . . What’s there to blush about?

PLATONOV (stares fixedly at her). You, I see, are either having your charming joke or else you want . . . to make a deal . . . Let’s go and dance a waltz!

ANNA PETROVNA. You don’t know how to dance! I have to have a proper talk with you . . . It’s about time . . . (Looks around.) Make an effort, mon cher, to listen and not spout philosophy!

PLATONOV. Let’s go and kick up our heels, Anna Petrovna!

ANNA PETROVNA. Let’s sit farther off . . . Come over here! (Sits on a different bench.) Only I don’t know how to begin . . . You’re such an awkward and tricky piece of humanity . . .

PLATONOV. Shouldn’t I begin, Anna Petrovna?

ANNA PETROVNA. You talk nothing but stuff and nonsense, Platonov, when you begin! Well, I’ll be! He’s embarrassed! That’ll be the day! (Claps Platonov on the shoulder.) Misha’s a joker! Well, go on and talk, talk . . . Only keep it short . . .

PLATONOV. I will be brief . . . All I have to say is: why bother?

Pause.

Word of honor, it isn’t worth it, Anna Petrovna!

ANNA PETROVNA. Why not? Now you listen to me . . . You don’t understand me . . . If you had been unattached, I would have become your wife without a second thought, my rank and title would have been yours to have and to hold forever, but as it is . . . . Well? Is silence a token of assent? So, how about it?

Pause.

Listen here, Platonov, in cases like this it is indecent to keep silent!

PLATONOV (leaps up). Let’s forget this conversation, Anna Petrovna! Come on, for God’s sake, let’s act as if it had never happened! It never was!

ANNA PETROVNA (shrugs). Strange man! Why ever not?

PLATONOV. Because I respect you! I respect my respect for you so much that giving it up would be harder for me than dropping dead! My friend, I am a free man, I am not averse to having a good time, I am not opposed to relations with women, not even opposed to passionate romances, but . . . to have a tawdry little affair with you, to make you the subject of my idle thoughts, you, an intelligent, beautiful, independent woman?! No! That’s too much! You’d better banish me to the ends of the earth! To spend a month stupidly, then another, and then . . . to part with a blush?!

ANNA PETROVNA. The subject is love!

PLATONOV. And what if I don’t love you? I do love you as a good, intelligent, kind-hearted woman . . . I love you desperately, madly! I would give my life for you, if you wanted it! I love you as a woman — as a human being! Does every kind of love have to be mixed up with one particular kind of love? My love for you is a thousand times more precious than the one you’ve got in mind! . . .

ANNA PETROVNA (gets up). Go, my dear, and take a nap! When you wake up, we’ll talk about it . . .

PLATONOV. Let’s forget this conversation . . . (Kisses her hand.) Let’s be friends, but let’s not play tricks on one another: our relationship deserves a better fate! . . . And besides, after all, I am . . . even if only a little bit, married! Let’s drop this conversation! Let everything be as it was before!

ANNA PETROVNA. Go on, my dear, go on! Married . . . Do you really love me? Then why do you bring up your wife? March! Later we’ll talk, in an hour or two . . . Now you’re having a fit of lying . . .

PLATONOV. I don’t know how to lie to you . . . (Quietly, in her ear.) If I did know how to lie to you, I would have been your lover a long time ago . . .

ANNA PETROVNA (sharply). Get out of here!

PLATONOV. You’re lying, you’re not angry . . . It’s only make-believe . . . (Exits into the house.)

ANNA PETROVNA. The man’s a crackpot! (Sits down.) He doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s saying . . . “To mix up every kind of love with one specific kind of love . . .” What nonsense! Like a male novelist writing about his love for a female novelist . . .

Pause.

Insufferable man! You and I will be nattering away like this till Judgment Day! If I can’t take you honorably, I’ll take you by force . . . This very day! It’s high time we both gave up this stupid waiting game . . . I’m fed up . . . I’ll take you by force . . . Who’s that coming? Glagolyev . . . looking for me . . .

Enter GLAGOLYEV SR.

SCENE XIV

ANNA PETROVNA and GLAGOLYEV SR.

GLAGOLYEV SR. It’s boring! These people talk about things I heard years ago: they think things that I thought about when I was a child . . . It’s all old, there’s nothing new . . . I’ll have a word with her and then go.

ANNA PETROVNA. What are you mumbling about, Porfiry Semyonych? May I know?

GLAGOLYEV SR. You’re here? (Comes to her.) I’m scolding myself for being unwanted here . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Because you’re not like us? That’s enough of that! People can get used to cockroaches, so you can get used to our sort! Come sit next to me, let’s have a talk!

GLAGOLYEV SR. (sits beside her). I’ve been looking for you, Anna Petrovna! I have something I have to talk to you about . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Well, go ahead and talk . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. I’d like to discuss something with you . . . I’d like to know the answer to my . . . letter . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. Hm . . . What is it you want of me, Porfiry Semyonych?

GLAGOLYEV SR. I, as you know, renounce . . . any conjugal rights . . . Those rights aren’t for me! I need a friend, a clever housekeeper . . . I have a paradise, but it contains no . . . angels.

ANNA PETROVNA (aside). Whatever he says, it’s a lump of sugar! (to him.) I often wonder what I would do in paradise — I’m a human being, not an angel — if I got into it?

GLAGOLYEV SR. How can you know what you will do in paradise, if you don’t know what you will do tomorrow? A good person will always find something to do, on earth or in heaven . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. That’s all very pretty, but will my life with you be worth my while? It’s rather peculiar, Porfiry Semyonych! Excuse me, Porfiry Semyonych, but your proposal strikes me as very peculiar . . . Why do you want to get married? What use can a friend in a skirt be to you? It’s none of my business, excuse me . . . but it’s gone this far, I’ll finish my thought. If I were your age, had as much money, intelligence, and sense of fair play as you do, I would never go after anything in this world except the general welfare . . . I mean, if I may put it this way, I would never go after anything except the satisfaction of loving my fellow man . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. I don’t know how to fight for people’s welfare . . . For that you need a will of iron and knowhow, but God hasn’t bestowed them on me! I was born only to love great deeds and perform a lot of cheap, worthless ones . . . Only to love! Come to me!

ANNA PETROVNA. No. Not another word on this subject . . . Do not take my refusal to be of any vital significance . . . Vanity, my friend! If we could possess everything that we love, there would be no room left . . . for our possessions . . . Which means, people aren’t behaving entirely without intelligence and affection when they turn you down . . . (Laughs out loud.) There’s some philosophy for your dessert! What’s all that noise? Do you hear? I’ll bet it’s Platonov making trouble . . . What a temperament!

Enter GREKOVA and TRILETSKY.

SCENE XV

ANNA PETROVNA, GLAGOLYEV SR., GREKOVA, and TRILETSKY.

GREKOVA (entering). This is the meanest insult imaginable! (Weeps.) The meanest! Only someone truly corrupt could see it and keep still!

TRILETSKY. I believe you, I believe you, but what’s my part in all this? What’s it got to do with me? Am I supposed to club him on the head, is that it?

GREKOVA. You should club him on the head, if there’s nothing else to do! Get away from me! I, I, a woman, would not keep still, if someone had insulted you to my face so vilely, so shamelessly and undeservedly!

TRILETSKY. But actually I did . . . Please be reasonable! . . . What did I do wrong? . . .

GREKOVA. You’re a coward, that’s what you are! Get away from me and back to your revolting refreshments! Good-bye! Be so kind as not to visit me any more! We don’t need one another . . . Good-bye!

TRILETSKY. Good-bye, as if I care, good-bye! I’m fed up with all of this, it’s become infinitely sickening! Tears, tears . . . Ah, my God! My head’s swimming . . . coenurus cerebralis!⁵⁴ Oh dear oh dear oh dear . . . (Waves his hand in dismissal and exits.)

GREKOVA. Coenurus cerebralis . . . (Starts to leave.) Another insult . . . What for? What did I do?

ANNA PETROVNA (walks over to her). Mariya Yefimovna . . . I won’t keep you . . . I would leave here myself if I were you . . . (Kisses her.) Don’t cry, my pet . . . Most women were created to put up with all sorts of nastiness from men . . .

GREKOVA. Well, I wasn’t . . . I’ll get him . . . fired! He won’t be a teacher here any more! He hasn’t got the right to be a teacher! Tomorrow I’ll go to the superintendent of public schools . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. That’s enough of that . . . In a day or two I’ll pay you a visit, and together we’ll sit in judgment on Platonov, but until then calm down . . . Stop crying . . . You shall have satisfaction . . . Don’t be angry with Triletsky, my pet . . . He didn’t stand up for you because he’s too kind and gentle, and people like that aren’t capable of standing up . . . What did he do to you?

GREKOVA. In front of everybody he kissed me . . . called me a fool and . . . and . . . shoved me up against the table . . . Don’t think he can get away with that with impunity! Either he’s a madman or else . . . I’ll show him! (Exits.)

ANNA PETROVNA (follows her). Good-bye! See you soon! (to Yakov.) Yakov! Get Mariya Yefimovna’s carriage! Ah, Platonov, Platonov . . . He’ll go on making trouble until he gets into trouble himself . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. A beautiful girl! Our gracious Mikhail Vasilich doesn’t like her . . . Insults her . . .

ANNA PETROVNA. For no good reason! Today he’ll insult her, tomorrow he’ll apologize . . . That’s the blue blood in him talking!

Enter GLAGOLYEV JR.

SCENE XVI

The same and GLAGOLYEV JR.

GLAGOLYEV JR. (aside). With her! With her again! What the hell is going on, after all? (Looks point-blank at his father.)

GLAGOLYEV SR. (after a pause). What do you want?

GLAGOLYEV JR. You’re sitting here, and people are looking for you! Go on, people are calling for you!

GLAGOLYEV SR. Who’s calling for me?

GLAGOLYEV JR. People!

GLAGOLYEV SR. I assume it’s people . . . (Gets up.) As you like, but I won’t give up on you, Anna Petrovna! Chances are you’ll be talking out of the other side of your mouth once you get to know me! I’ll be seeing you . . . (Exits into the house.)

SCENE XVII

ANNA PETROVNA and GLAGOLYEV JR.

GLAGOLYEV JR. (sitting beside her). The old goat! The jackass! No one is calling for him! I put one over on him!

ANNA PETROVNA. When you learn to be more clever, you will curse yourself for the way you treat your father!

GLAGOLYEV JR. You must be joking . . . Here’s why I came out here . . . Two words . . . Yes or no?

ANNA PETROVNA. Meaning?

GLAGOLYEV JR. (laughs). As if you don’t understand? Yes or no?

ANNA PETROVNA. I have no idea what you mean!

GLAGOLYEV JR. You will in a minute . . . A flash of gold is great at giving people ideas . . . If it’s “yes,” then wouldn’t you like, generalissimo of my heart, to creep into my pocket and pull out my billfold with Daddy’s money in it? . . . (Holds out his side pocket.)

ANNA PETROVNA. That’s frank . . . Clever people actually get slapped for that kind of talk!

GLAGOLYEV JR. From an attractive woman even a slap can be attractive . . . First she slaps you, and then a little later she says “yes” . . .

ANNA PETROVNA (gets up). Pick up your cap and clear out of here this very second!

GLAGOLYEV JR. (gets up). Where to?

ANNA PETROVNA. Wherever you like! Clear out and never dare show your face here again!

GLAGOLYEV JR. Phoo . . . What’s there to get angry about? I will not leave, Anna Petrovna!

ANNA PETROVNA. Well then, I’ll give orders to have you turned out! (Exits into the house.)

GLAGOLYEV JR. What a temper you’ve got. After all I didn’t say anything so very, specially . . . What did I say? There’s no need to lose your temper . . . (Exits following her.)

SCENE XVIII

PLATONOV and SOFYA YEGOROVNA enter from the house.

PLATONOV. Even now at the school I’m stuck in a job which really isn’t my sort of thing, but ought to belong to a real teacher . . . So that’s how things have been since we split up! . . . (Sits down.) Putting aside what I’ve done to other people, what good have I done to myself? What seeds have I planted, nurtured, and cultivated in myself? . . . And now! Ech! Things are ghastly and hideous . . . It’s outrageous! Evil is bubbling all around me, polluting the earth, swallowing up my brothers in Christ and my fellow Russians, while I just sit with my arms at my sides, as if I’d been doing hard labor; I sit, I stare, I keep my mouth shut . . . I’m twenty-seven, at thirty I’ll be the same — I don’t foresee any changes! — later on obesity and torpor, obtuseness, complete indifference to anything that isn’t of the flesh, and then death!! A wasted life! My hair starts to stand on end, whenever I think about that death!

Pause.

How am I to rise above this, Sofya Yegorovna?

Pause.

You don’t say anything, you don’t know . . . Well, how could you? Sofya Yegorovna, I’m not feeling sorry for myself! To hell with this fellow, with my ego! But what’s happened to you? Where is your pure heart, your sincerity, sense of fair play, your boldness? Where is your health? What have you done with it? Sofya Yegorovna! To idle away whole years, to make other people work for you, to feast your eyes on other people’s sufferings and yet look them square in the face — that’s what I call depravity!

SOFYA YEGOROVNA gets up.

(Sits her down again.) This is my last word, just hold on! What turned you into such an affected, languid, mealy-mouthed creature? Who taught you to lie? And the way you used to be! Excuse me! I’ll let you go right away! Let me speak! You were so good, Sofya Yegorovna, so great! Dearest, Sofya Yegorovna, maybe you could still rise above it, it’s not too late! Think about it! Gather all your strength and rise above it, for heaven’s sake! (Grasps her by the hand.) My dearest, tell me frankly, for the sake of what we’ve shared in the past, what compelled you to marry that man? What lured you into that marriage?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. He’s a fine man . . .

PLATONOV. Don’t say what you don’t believe!

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (gets up). He’s my husband, and I must ask you . . .

PLATONOV. Let him be whatever he wants, but I’m telling the truth! Sit down! (Sits her down.) Why didn’t you pick out a hard-working man, a man who was suffering? Why didn’t you pick out anybody except that pygmy, bogged down in debts and idleness? . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Leave me alone! Stop shouting! Someone’s coming . . .

GUESTS pass by.

PLATONOV. The hell with them! Let everybody hear! (Quietly.) Forgive me for my crudeness . . . But I did love you! I loved you more than anything in the world, and that’s why you are dear to me now . . . I so loved this hair, these arms, this face . . . Why do you powder your face, Sofya Yegorovna? Stop doing it! Ech! If someone else had come your way, you would quickly have risen above this, but now you’ll just sink deeper into the mud! Poor creature . . . Wretch though I am, if I had the strength, I’d tear both of us out of this morass by the roots . . .

Pause.

Life! Why don’t we live the way we could?!

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (gets up and hides her face in her hands). Leave me alone!

A noise inside the house.

Get away from me! (Walks toward the house.)

PLATONOV (follows her). Take your hands away from your face! That’s right! You aren’t leaving? Surely not? Let’s be friends, Sophie! You can’t be leaving? We’ll have another talk? All right?

Inside the house louder noise and running down stairs.

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. All right.

PLATONOV. Let’s be friends, my dearest . . . Why should we be enemies? Let me . . . Just a few words more . . .

VOINITSEV runs in from the house, followed by GUESTS.

SCENE XIX

The same, VOINITSEV and GUESTS, then ANNA PETROVNA and TRILETSKY.

VOINITSEV (running in). Ah . . . There they are, the leading characters! Let’s go set off the fireworks! (Shouts.) Yakov, to the river, march! (to Sofya Yegorovna.) Changed your mind, Sophie?

PLATONOV. She’s not going, she’s staying here . . .

VOINITSEV. Really? In that case hurray! Your hand, Mikhail Vasilich! (Squeezes Platonov’s hand.) I always trusted your powers of persuasion! Let’s go set off the fireworks! (Goes with the guests upstage into the garden.)

PLATONOV (after a pause). Yes, that’s how things are, Sofya Yegorovna . . . Hm . . .

VOINITSEV’S VOICE. Maman, where are you? Platonov!

PLATONOV. I guess I’ll go over there too, damn it . . . (Shouts.) Sergey Pavlovich, wait, don’t set them off without me! Send Yakov to me, pal, for the balloon! (Runs into the garden.)

ANNA PETROVNA (runs out of the house). Wait, all of you! Sergey, wait, not everybody’s here yet! Shoot off the cannon in the meantime! (To Sofya.) Come along, Sophie! Why so down in the mouth?

PLATONOV’S VOICE. Over here, my little lady! We’ll strike up the old song, and not start a new one!

ANNA PETROVNA. I’m coming, moan share!⁵⁵ (Runs out.)

PLATONOV’S VOICE. Who’s coming with me in the boat? Sofya Yegorovna, don’t you want to come on the river with me?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. To go or not to go? (Thinks.)

TRILETSKY (enters). Hey! Where are you? (Sings.) I’m coming, I’m coming! (He stares fixedly at Sofya Yegorovna.)

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. What do you want?

TRILETSKY. Nothing, ma’am . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Well, then get away from here! I’m not in the mood today to converse or listen . . .

TRILETSKY. I know, I know . . .

Pause.

For some reason I have this awful desire to run a finger down your forehead: what is it made of? A burning desire! . . . Not to insult you, but just . . . to put my mind at ease . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Clown! (Turns away.) You’re not a comedian, but a clown, a buffoon!

TRILETSKY. Yes . . . A clown . . . My clowning earns me my grub from the general’s lady . . . Yes indeed, ma’am . . . And pocket money . . . And when they’re fed up with me, they’ll kick me off the premises in disgrace. It’s the truth I’m telling, isn’t it, ma’am? However, I’m not the only one saying it . . . Even you said it, when you chose to call on Glagolyev, that freemason of our times . . .

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. All right, all right . . . I’m glad you’ve heard about it . . . Now, you see, it means I am able to tell the difference between clowns and true wits! If you were an actor, you would be the favorite of the gallery, but the expensive seats would hiss you . . . I hiss you.

TRILETSKY. The witticism is successful to a supernatural degree . . . Praiseworthy . . . I am honored to make my bow! (Bows.) Till our next pleasant meeting! I would go on bandying words with you, but . . . I’m tongue-tied, struck dumb! (Goes upstage to the garden.)

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (stamps her foot). The scoundrel! He has no idea of my opinion of him! Trivial little man!

PLATONOV’S VOICE. Who’ll come on the river with me?

SOFYA YEGOROVNA. Oh, well . . . Whatever will be will be! (Shouts.) I’m coming! (Runs off.)

SCENE XX

GLAGOLYEV SR. and GLAGOLYEV JR. enter from the house.

GLAGOLYEV SR. That’s a lie! That’s a lie, you vicious little brat!

GLAGOLYEV JR. Don’t be silly! What’s my motive for lying? Ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me! As soon as you left, on that very same bench I whispered a few words to her, put my arms around her, planted a juicy one on her . . . At first she asked for three thousand, well, uh, I got her to lower it to a thousand! So give me a thousand rubles!

GLAGOLYEV SR. Kirill, a woman’s honor is at stake! Don’t besmirch that honor, she is sacred! Keep quiet!

GLAGOLYEV JR. I swear on my honor! You don’t believe me? I swear by all that’s holy! Give me the thousand rubles! I’ll bring her the thousand right now . . .

GLAGOLYEV SR. This is horrible . . . You’re lying! She was joking with you, with a fool!

GLAGOLYEV JR. But . . . I put my arms around her, I tell you! What’s so surprising about that? All women are like that nowadays! Don’t believe in their innocence! I know them! And you wanted to get married again! (Roars with laughter.)

GLAGOLYEV SR. For God’s sake, Kirill! Do you know the meaning of slander?

GLAGOLYEV JR. Give me a thousand rubles! I’ll hand them over to her before your very eyes! On this very bench I held her in my arms, kissed her, and made her lower her price . . . I swear! What more do you need? That’s why I chased you away, so that I could bargain with her! He doesn’t believe that I’m able to win over a woman! Offer her two thousand, and she’s yours! I know women, pal!

GLAGOLYEV SR. (pulls his billfold out of his pocket and throws it on the ground). Take it!

GLAGOLYEV JR. picks up the billfold and counts the money.

VOINITSEV’S VOICE. I’m going to begin! Maman, fire! Triletsky, climb on to the gazebo! Who stepped on that box? You!

TRILETSKY’S VOICE. I’m climbing, damn it all! (Roars with laughter.) Who is that? Bugrov’s been squashed! I stepped on Bugrov’s head! Where’re the matches?

GLAGOLYEV JR. (aside). I am avenged! (Shouts.) Hoo-oo-ray! (Runs out.)

TRILETSKY. Who’s howling out there? Give it to him in the neck!

VOINITSEV’S VOICE. Shall we begin?

GLAGOLYEV SR. (clutches his head). My God! The depravity! The iniquity! I worshiped her! Forgive her, Lord! (Sits on a bench and hides his face in his hands.)

VOINITSEV’S VOICE. Who took the fuse? Maman, aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Where’s my fuse, the one that was lying here?

ANNA PETROVNA’S VOICE. Here it is, scatterbrain!

GLAGOLYEV SR. tumbles off the bench.

ANNA PETROVNA’S VOICE. You! Who are you! Don’t hang around here! (Shouts.) Hand it over! Hand it over!

SOFYA YEGOROVNA runs in.

SCENE XXI

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (alone).

SOFYA YEGOROVNA (pale, with her hair in disarray). I can’t! It’s too much, beyond my strength! (Clutches her breast.) My ruin or . . . happiness! It’s stifling here! . . . He will either ruin me, or . . . be the harbinger of a new life! I welcome, I bless . . . you . . . new life! I’ve come to a decision!

VOINITSEV’S VOICE (shouts). Watch out!

Fireworks.

TABLEAU TWO

A forest. A railroad cutting. At the start of the cutting, on the left side a schoolhouse. Alongside the cutting, which disappears into the distance, stretches a railroad track, which takes a right turn near the school. A row of telegraph poles. Night.

SCENE I

SASHA (sits in an open window) and OSIP (with a rifle on his back, stands in front of the window).

OSIP. How did it happen? Couldn’t be simpler . . . I’m walking along a ravine, not far from here, I see her standing in a little gully: she’s tucked up her dress and with a burdock leaf she’s scooping up water from a stream. Scoops and drinks, scoops and drinks, and then wets her head . . . I slide down, walk close up and stare at her . . . She pays me no mind: fool, it’s like, you’re a peasant, it’s like, why should I give you a second thought? “Ma’am,” says I, “your excellency, I figure you want a drink of nice cold water?” — “And what business is it of yours,” says she. “Go back where you came from!” That’s what she says and don’t look at me . . . I got bashful . . . Shame came all over me, and I was embarrassed that I’m of the peasant persuasion . . . “Why are you looking at me, nitwit? Never seen people before,” says she, “or what?” And she looked me through and through . . . “Or do you like what you see,” says she. — “I like it like crazy,” says I. “Someone like you, your excellency, a noble, refined critter, what a beauty . . . A woman more beautiful than you,” says I, “I never seen in all my born days . . . Our village beauty Manka, the constable’s daughter,” says I, “next to you looks like a horse, a camel . . . You got so much refinement! If I could kiss you,” says I, “I think I’d drop down dead.” She bursts out laughing . . . “Is that so,” says she. “Kiss me, if you feel like it!” When I heard them words a fire ran through me. I walked up to her, took her nice as you please by her pretty shoulder and kissed her hard as I could right here, on this here spot, on the cheek and neck in one go . . .

SASHA (laughs out loud). And what’d she do?

OSIP. “Well, now,” says she, “clear off! Wash yourself more often,” says she, “and don’t forget your fingernails!” So away I went.

SASHA. She’s bold as brass! (Gives Osip a plate of cabbage soup.) Here, eat this! Sit somewhere!

OSIP. I’m no great lord, so I’ll stand . . . Thank you very much for your loving kindness, Aleksandra Ivanovna! I’ll pay you back for your caring one of these days . . .

SASHA. Take off your cap . . . You shouldn’t eat with your cap on. And say grace when you eat!

OSIP (takes off his cap). It’s a long time since I observed them religious things . . . (Eats.) And ever since then it’s like I been off my head . . . Would you believe it? I don’t eat, don’t sleep . . . She’s always there before my eyes . . . Used to be I’d close my eyes, and there she stands . . . Such tenderness came over me that I like to strung myself up! With mooning over her I almost did drown myself, I wanted to shoot the General . . . And when she became a widow, I began running all sorts of errands . . . I shot partridges for her, snared quail, painted her gazebo all the colors of the rainbow . . . Once I even brought her a live wolf . . . Did her all sorts of pleasures . . . Used to be, she’d give an order, I’d carry it out . . . If she’d ordered me to eat my head, I’d eat my head . . . Tender feelings . . . You can’t do nothing about ‘em . . .

SASHA. Yes . . . When I fell in love with Mikhail Vasilich and still didn’t know that he loved me, I mooned about horribly too . . . Many’s the time I prayed God for death, sinner that I am . . .

OSIP. There you see, ma’am . . . Feelings like that . . . (Drinks from the plate.) Might there be any more of that soup? (Hands back the plate.)

SASHA (exits and half a minute later reappears in the window with a small saucepan). There’s no soup, but would you like some potatoes? Fried in goose fat . . .

OSIP. Merci. . . (Takes the saucepan and eats.) Something awful the way I put that soup away! And so I’d walk up and down, up and down, like a crazy man . . . I mean ‘cause of what I was saying, Aleksandra Ivanovna . . . I’d walk up and down, up and down . . . Last year after Holy Week⁵⁶1 bring her a hare . . . “Here if you please,” says I, “your excellency . . . Brought you this cross-eyed little critter!” She took it in her hands, stroked it and asks me: “Is it true what folks are saying, Osip, that you’re a robber?” — “The Gospel truth,” says I. “Folks don’t say things like that just to hear theirselves talk . . .” I went and told her everything . . . — “You got to reform,” says she. “Go on a pilgrimage,” says she, “go on foot to Kiev. From Kiev to Moscow, from Moscow to Trinity Monastery, from Trinity Monastery to New Jerusalem, and then home again. Go and in a year you’ll be a new man.” I put on a beggar’s rags, slung a knapsack on my back, and walked to Kiev . . . Nothing doing! I was reformed, but only halfway . . . Those spuds hit the spot! Outside Kharkov⁵⁷1 linked up with a swell gang traveling my way, drank up my money, got in a fight and came back here. Even lost my patchport . . .⁵⁸

Pause.

Now she won’t take nothing from me . . . She’s angry . . .

SASHA. Why don’t you go to church, Osip?

OSIP. I’d go, but then . . . Folks would start laughing . . . “Looky,” they’ll say, “he’s come to make a confession!” Besides, it’s dangerous to go near a church in the daytime. Lots of people there — they’ll kill ya.

SASHA. Well, then, why do you do harm to poor people?

OSIP. And why not harm them? That’s no concern o’ yours, Aleksandra Ivanovna! Don’t trouble your head over the rough stuff. It’s nothing you got to understand. Besides, don’t Mikhail Vasilich do harm to people?

SASHA. No one! If he does harm someone, it’s unintentionally, accidentally. He’s a good man!

OSIP. I admit I respect him more than anybody else . . . The General’s kid, Sergey Pavlych, is a stupid guy, no brains; your brother’s got no brains either, even if he is a doctor, but Mikhail Vasilich’s sharp, got lots of knowhow! Has he got a rank in the civil service?

SASHA. Of course! He’s a registrar, junior grade!⁵⁹

OSIP. That so?

Pause.

Good for him! So he’s got a rank . . . Hm . . . Good for him! Only there ain’t much charity in him . . . For him everybody’s a fool, for him everybody’s a flunky . . . How can you act that way? If I was a good man, I wouldn’t act like that . . . I would be kind to the worst flunkies, fools, and crooks . . . They’re the most miserable of folks, mark my words! You got to feel sorry for them . . . There ain’t much goodness in him, not much . . . He ain’t proud, he’s chummy with all sorts, but not a lick o’ goodness . . . It’s nothing you got to worry your head about . . . Thank you kindly! I could eat spuds like that till my dying day . . . (Hands over the saucepan.) Thanks . . .

SASHA. Don’t mention it.

OSIP (sighs). You’re a wonderful woman, Aleksandra Ivanovna! How come you feed me all the time? Is there even a drop of womanly bitchiness in you, Aleksandra Ivanovna? (Laughs.) Religious! (Laughs.) First time I seen the likes of you . . . Saint Aleksandra, pray God for us sinners! (Bows.) Oh be joyful, Saint Aleksandra!

SASHA. Mikhail Vasilich is coming.

OSIP. You’re fibbing . . . At this very moment he’s with the young mistress talking about tender feelings . . . A good-looking man you’ve got there! If he wanted, the whole female sex would be after him . . . And such a sweet-talker . . . (Laughs.) Keeps playing up to the general’s lady . . . She’ll send him packing, she don’t care how good-looking he is . . . He’d like to, maybe, but she . . .

SASHA. You’re starting to make uncalled-for remarks . . . I don’t like it . . . Get going!

OSIP. I’ll go right now . . . You should have been in bed long ago . . . I suppose you’re waiting up for your husband?

SASHA. Yes . . .

OSIP. A good wife! Platonov, I figure, musta took ten years searching for such a wife, with candles and detectives . . . Found her somewheres . . . (Bows.) Good-bye, Aleksandra Ivanovna! Good night!