The Collected Works of Anton Chekhov: Plays, Novellas, Short Stories, Diary & Letters. Anton Chekhov
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all is, Sasha. I am terribly guilty.
SASHA. What dreadful, pitiful speeches you make! So you are guilty, are you? Tell me, then, what is it you have done?
IVANOFF I don’t know; I don’t know!
SASHA. That is no answer. Every sinner should know what he is guilty of. Perhaps you have been forging money?
IVANOFF. That is stupid.
SASHA. Or are you guilty because you no longer love your wife? Perhaps you are, but no one is master of his feelings, and you did not mean to stop loving her. Do you feel guilty because she saw me telling you that I love you? No, that cannot be, because you did not want her to see it —
IVANOFF. [Interrupting her] And so on, and so on! First you say I love, and then you say I don’t; that I am not master of my feelings. All these are commonplace, worn-out sentiments, with which you cannot help me.
SASHA. It is impossible to talk to you. [She looks at a picture on the wall] How well those dogs are drawn! Were they done from life?
IVANOFF. Yes, from life. And this whole romance of ours is a tedious old story; a man loses heart and begins to go down in the world; a girl appears, brave and strong of heart, and gives him a hand to help him to rise again. Such situations are pretty, but they are only found in novels and not in real life.
SASHA. No, they are found in real life too.
IVANOFF. Now I see how well you understand real life! My sufferings seem noble to you; you imagine you have discovered in me a second Hamlet; but my state of mind in all its phases is only fit to furnish food for contempt and derision. My contortions are ridiculous enough to make any one die of laughter, and you want to play the guardian angel; you want to do a noble deed and save me. Oh, how I hate myself to-day! I feel that this tension must soon be relieved in some way. Either I shall break something, or else —
SASHA. That is exactly what you need. Let yourself go! Smash something; break it to pieces; give a yell! You are angry with me, it was foolish of me to come here. Very well, then, get excited about it; storm at me; stamp your feet! Well, aren’t you getting angry?
IVANOFF. You ridiculous girl!
SASHA. Splendid! So we are smiling at last! Be kind, do me the favour of smiling once more!
IVANOFF. [Laughing] I have noticed that whenever you start reforming me and saving my soul, and teaching me how to be good, your face grows naive, oh so naive, and your eyes grow as wide as if you were looking at a comet. Wait a moment; your shoulder is covered with dust. [He brushes her shoulder] A naive man is nothing better than a fool, but you women contrive to be naive in such a way that in you it seems sweet, and gentle, and proper, and not as silly as it really is. What a strange way you have, though, of ignoring a man as long as he is well and happy, and fastening yourselves to him as soon as he begins to whine and go downhill! Do you actually think it is worse to be the wife of a strong man than to nurse some whimpering invalid?
SASHA. Yes, it is worse.
IVANOFF. Why do you think so? [Laughing loudly] It is a good thing Darwin can’t hear what you are saying! He would be furious with you for degrading the human race. Soon, thanks to your kindness, only invalids and hypochondriacs will be born into the world.
SASHA. There are a great many things a man cannot understand. Any girl would rather love an unfortunate man than a fortunate one, because every girl would like to do something by loving. A man has his work to do, and so for him love is kept in the background. To talk to his wife, to walk with her in the garden, to pass the time pleasantly with her, that is all that love means to a man. But for us, love means life. I love you; that means that I dream only of how I shall cure you of your sadness, how I shall go with you to the ends of the earth. If you are in heaven, I am in heaven; if you are in the pit, I am in the pit. For instance, it would be the greatest happiness for me to write all night for you, or to watch all night that no one should wake you. I remember that three years ago, at threshing time, you came to us all dusty and sunburnt and tired, and asked for a drink. When I brought you a glass of water you were already lying on the sofa and sleeping like a dead man. You slept there for half a day, and all that time I watched by the door that no one should disturb you. How happy I was! The more a girl can do, the greater her love will be; that is, I mean, the more she feels it.
IVANOFF. The love that accomplishes things — hm — that is a fairy tale, a girl’s dream; and yet, perhaps it is as it should be. [He shrugs his shoulders] How can I tell? [Gaily] On my honour, Sasha, I really am quite a respectable man. Judge for yourself: I have always liked to discuss things, but I have never in my life said that our women were corrupt, or that such and such a woman was on the downhill path. I have always been grateful, and nothing more. No, nothing more. Dear child, how comical you are! And what a ridiculous old stupid I am! I shock all good Christian folk, and go about complaining from morning to night. [He laughs and then leaves her suddenly] But you must go, Sasha; we have forgotten ourselves.
SASHA. Yes, it is time to go. Goodbye. I am afraid that that honest doctor of yours will have told Anna out of a sense of duty that I am here. Take my advice: go at once to your wife and stay with her. Stay, and stay, and stay, and if it should be for a year, you must still stay, or for ten years. It is your duty. You must repent, and ask her forgiveness, and weep. That is what you ought to do, and the great thing is not to forget to do right.
IVANOFF. Again I feel as if I were going crazy; again!
SASHA. Well, heaven help you! You must forget me entirely. In two weeks you must send me a line and I shall be content with that. But I shall write to you —
BORKIN looks in at the door.
BORKIN. Ivanoff, may I come in? [He sees SASHA] I beg your pardon, I did not see you. Bonjour! [He bows.]
SASHA. [Embarrassed] How do you do?
BORKIN. You are plumper and prettier than ever.
SASHA. [To IVANOFF] I must go, Nicholas, I must go. [She goes out.]
BORKIN. What a beautiful apparition! I came expecting prose and found poetry instead. [Sings]
“You showed yourself to the world as a bird — —”
IVANOFF walks excitedly up and down.
BORKIN. [Sits down] There is something in her, Nicholas, that one doesn’t find in other women, isn’t there? An elfin strangeness. [He sighs] Although she is without doubt the richest girl in the country, her mother is so stingy that no one will have her. After her mother’s death Sasha will have the whole fortune, but until then she will only give her ten thousand roubles and an old flat-iron, and to get that she will have to humble herself to the ground. [He feels in his pockets] Will you have a smoke? [He offers IVANOFF his cigarette case] These are very good.
IVANOFF. [Comes toward BORKIN stifled with rage] Leave my house this instant, and don’t you ever dare to set foot in it again! Go this instant!
BORKIN gets up and drops his cigarette.
IVANOFF. Go at once!
BORKIN. Nicholas, what do you mean? Why are you so angry?
IVANOFF. Why! Where did you get those cigarettes? Where? You think perhaps that I don’t know where you take the old man every day, and for what purpose?
BORKIN. [Shrugs his shoulders] What business is it of yours?
IVANOFF. You blackguard, you! The disgraceful rumours that you have been spreading about me have made me disreputable in the eyes of the whole countryside. You and I have nothing in common, and I ask you to leave my house this instant.
BORKIN. I know that you are saying all this in a moment of irritation, and so I am not angry with you. Insult me as much as you please. [He picks up his cigarette] It is time though, to shake off this melancholy of yours; you’re not a schoolboy.
IVANOFF. What did I tell you? [Shuddering] Are you making fun of me?
Enter ANNA.
BORKIN. There now, there comes Anna! I shall go.
IVANOFF