The Collected Works of Anton Chekhov. Anton Chekhov
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MARINA. [Trying to wind more quickly] I am a little tired.
TELEGIN. They are going to Kharkoff to live.
MARINA. They do well to go.
TELEGIN. They have been frightened. The professor’s wife won’t stay here an hour longer. “If we are going at all, let’s be off,” says she, “we shall go to Kharkoff and look about us, and then we can send for our things.” They are travelling light. It seems, Marina, that fate has decreed for them not to live here.
MARINA. And quite rightly. What a storm they have just raised! It was shameful!
TELEGIN. It was indeed. The scene was worthy of the brush of Aibazofski.
MARINA. I wish I’d never laid eyes on them. [A pause] Now we shall have things as they were again: tea at eight, dinner at one, and supper in the evening; everything in order as decent folks, as Christians like to have it. [Sighs] It is a long time since I have eaten noodles.
TELEGIN. Yes, we haven’t had noodles for ages. [A pause] Not for ages. As I was going through the village this morning, Marina, one of the shopkeepers called after me, “Hi! you hanger-on!” I felt it bitterly.
MARINA. Don’t pay the least attention to them, master; we are all dependents on God. You and Sonia and all of us. Every one must work, no one can sit idle. Where is Sonia?
TELEGIN. In the garden with the doctor, looking for Ivan. They fear he may lay violent hands on himself.
MARINA. Where is his pistol?
TELEGIN. [Whispers] I hid it in the cellar.
VOITSKI and ASTROFF come in.
VOITSKI. Leave me alone! [To MARINA and TELEGIN] Go away! Go away and leave me to myself, if but for an hour. I won’t have you watching me like this!
TELEGIN. Yes, yes, Vanya. [He goes out on tiptoe.]
MARINA. The gander cackles; ho! ho! ho!
[She gathers up her wool and goes out.]
VOITSKI. Leave me by myself!
ASTROFF. I would, with the greatest pleasure. I ought to have gone long ago, but I shan’t leave you until you have returned what you took from me.
VOITSKI. I took nothing from you.
ASTROFF. I am not jesting, don’t detain me, I really must go.
VOITSKI. I took nothing of yours.
ASTROFF. You didn’t? Very well, I shall have to wait a little longer, and then you will have to forgive me if I resort to force. We shall have to bind you and search you. I mean what I say.
VOITSKI. Do as you please. [A pause] Oh, to make such a fool of myself! To shoot twice and miss him both times! I shall never forgive myself.
ASTROFF. When the impulse came to shoot, it would have been as well had you put a bullet through your own head.
VOITSKI. [Shrugging his shoulders] Strange! I attempted murder, and am not going to be arrested or brought to trial. That means they think me mad. [With a bitter laugh] Me! I am mad, and those who hide their worthlessness, their dullness, their crying heartlessness behind a professor’s mask, are sane! Those who marry old men and then deceive them under the noses of all, are sane! I saw you kiss her; I saw you in each other’s arms!
ASTROFF. Yes, sir, I did kiss her; so there. [He puts his thumb to his nose.]
VOITSKI. [His eyes on the door] No, it is the earth that is mad, because she still bears us on her breast.
ASTROFF. That is nonsense.
VOITSKI. Well? Am I not a madman, and therefore irresponsible? Haven’t I the right to talk nonsense?
ASTROFF. This is a farce! You are not mad; you are simply a ridiculous fool. I used to think every fool was out of his senses, but now I see that lack of sense is a man’s normal state, and you are perfectly normal.
VOITSKI. [Covers his face with his hands] Oh! If you knew how ashamed I am! These piercing pangs of shame are like nothing on earth. [In an agonised voice] I can’t endure them! [He leans against the table] What can I do? What can I do?
ASTROFF. Nothing.
VOITSKI. You must tell me something! Oh, my God! I am forty-seven years old. I may live to sixty; I still have thirteen years before me; an eternity! How shall I be able to endure life for thirteen years? What shall I do? How can I fill them? Oh, don’t you see? [He presses ASTROFF’S hand convulsively] Don’t you see, if only I could live the rest of my life in some new way! If I could only wake some still, bright morning and feel that life had begun again; that the past was forgotten and had vanished like smoke. [He weeps] Oh, to begin life anew! Tell me, tell me how to begin.
ASTROFF. [Crossly] What nonsense! What sort of a new life can you and I look forward to? We can have no hope.
VOITSKI. None?
ASTROFF. None. Of that I am convinced.
VOITSKI. Tell me what to do. [He puts his hand to his heart] I feel such a burning pain here.
ASTROFF. [Shouts angrily] Stop! [Then, more gently] It may be that posterity, which will despise us for our blind and stupid lives, will find some road to happiness; but we — you and I — have but one hope, the hope that we may be visited by visions, perhaps by pleasant ones, as we lie resting in our graves. [Sighing] Yes, brother, there were only two respectable, intelligent men in this county, you and I. Ten years or so of this life of ours, this miserable life, have sucked us under, and we have become as contemptible and petty as the rest. But don’t try to talk me out of my purpose! Give me what you took from me, will you?
VOITSKI. I took nothing from you.
ASTROFF. You took a little bottle of morphine out of my medicine-case. [A pause] Listen! If you are positively determined to make an end to yourself, go into the woods and shoot yourself there. Give up the morphine, or there will be a lot of talk and guesswork; people will think I gave it to you. I don’t fancy having to perform a post-mortem on you. Do you think I should find it interesting?
SONIA comes in.
VOITSKI. Leave me alone.
ASTROFF. [To SONIA] Sonia, your uncle has stolen a bottle of morphine out of my medicine-case and won’t give it up. Tell him that his behaviour is — well, unwise. I haven’t time, I must be going.
SONIA. Uncle Vanya, did you take the morphine?
ASTROFF. Yes, he took it. [A pause] I am absolutely sure.
SONIA. Give it up! Why do you want to frighten us? [Tenderly] Give it up, Uncle Vanya! My misfortune is perhaps even greater than yours, but I am not plunged in despair. I endure my sorrow, and shall endure it until my life comes to a natural end. You must endure yours, too. [A pause] Give it up! Dear, darling Uncle Vanya. Give it up! [She weeps] You are so good, I am sure you will have pity on us and give it up. You must endure your sorrow, Uncle Vanya; you must endure it.
VOITSKI takes a bottle from the drawer of the table and hands it to ASTROFF.
VOITSKI. There it is! [To SONIA] And now, we must get to work at once; we must do something, or else I shall not be able to endure it.
SONIA. Yes, yes, to work! As soon as we have seen them off we shall go to work. [She nervously straightens out the papers on the table] Everything is in a muddle!
ASTROFF. [Putting the bottle in his case, which he straps together] Now I can be off.
HELENA comes in.
HELENA. Are you here, Ivan? We are starting in a moment. Go to Alexander, he wants to speak to you.
SONIA. Go, Uncle Vanya. [She takes VOITSKI ‘S arm] Come, you and papa must make peace; that is absolutely necessary.
SONIA and VOITSKI go out.
HELENA. I am going away. [She gives ASTROFF her hand] Goodbye.
ASTROFF.