The Collected Works of Anton Chekhov: Plays, Novellas, Short Stories, Diary & Letters. Anton Chekhov
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How? What?
SHABELSKI. Go away!
MARTHA. [Sinks into an armchair] Oh! Oh! Oh! [She bursts into tears.]
Enter ZINAIDA crying.
ZINAIDA. Some one has just arrived; it must be one of the ushers. It is time for the ceremony to begin.
SASHA. [Imploringly] Mother!
LEBEDIEFF. Well, now you are all bawling. What a quartette! Come, come, don’t let us have any more of this dampness! Matthew! Martha! If you go on like this, I — I — shall cry too. [Bursts into tears] Heavens!
ZINAIDA. If you don’t need your mother any more, if you are determined not to obey her, I shall have to do as you want, and you have my blessing.
Enter IVANOFF, dressed in a long coat, with gloves on.
LEBEDIEFF This is the finishing touch! What do you want?
SHABELSKI. Why are you here?
IVANOFF. I beg your pardon, you must allow me to speak to Sasha alone.
LEBEDIEFF. The bridegroom must not come to see the bride before the wedding. It is time for you to go to the church.
IVANOFF. Paul, I implore you.
LEBEDIEFF shrugs his shoulders. LEBEDIEFF, ZINAIDA, SHABELSKI, and MARTHA go out.
SASHA. [Sternly] What do you want?
IVANOFF. I am choking with anger; I cannot speak calmly. Listen to me; as I was dressing just now for the wedding, I looked in the glass and saw how grey my temples were. Sasha, this must not be! Let us end this senseless comedy before it is too late. You are young and pure; you have all your life before you, but I ——
SASHA. The same old story; I have heard it a thousand times and I am tired of it. Go quickly to the church and don’t keep everybody waiting!
IVANOFF. I shall go straight home, and you must explain to your family somehow that there is to be no wedding. Explain it as you please. It is time we came to our senses. I have been playing the part of Hamlet and you have been playing the part of a noble and devoted girl. We have kept up the farce long enough.
SASHA. [Losing her temper] How can you speak to me like this? I won’t have it.
IVANOFF. But I am speaking, and will continue to speak.
SASHA. What do you mean by coming to me like this? Your melancholy has become absolutely ridiculous!
IVANOFF. No, this is not melancholy. It is ridiculous, is it? Yes, I am laughing, and if it were possible for me to laugh at myself a thousand times more bitterly I should do so and set the whole world laughing, too, in derision. A fierce light has suddenly broken over my soul; as I looked into the glass just now, I laughed at myself, and nearly went mad with shame. [He laughs] Melancholy indeed! Noble grief! Uncontrollable sorrow! It only remains for me now to begin to write verses! Shall I mope and complain, sadden everybody I meet, confess that my manhood has gone forever, that I have decayed, outlived my purpose, that I have given myself up to cowardice and am bound hand and foot by this loathsome melancholy? Shall I confess all this when the sun is shining so brightly and when even the ants are carrying their little burdens in peaceful self-content? No, thanks. Can I endure the knowledge that one will look upon me as a fraud, while another pities me, a third lends me a helping hand, or worst of all, a fourth listens reverently to my sighs, looks upon me as a new Mahomet, and expects me to expound a new religion every moment? No, thank God for the pride and conscience he has left me still. On my way here I laughed at myself, and it seemed to me that the flowers and birds were laughing mockingly too.
SASHA. This is not anger, but madness!
IVANOFF. You think so, do you? No, I am not mad. I see things in their right light now, and my mind is as clear as your conscience. We love each other, but we shall never be married. It makes no difference how I rave and grow bitter by myself, but I have no right to drag another down with me. My melancholy robbed my wife of the last year of her life. Since you have been engaged to me you have forgotten how to laugh and have aged five years. Your father, to whom life was always simple and clear, thanks to me, is now unable to understand anybody. Wherever I go, whether hunting or visiting, it makes no difference, I carry depression, dulness, and discontent along with me. Wait! Don’t interrupt me! I am bitter and harsh, I know, but I am stifled with rage. I cannot speak otherwise. I have never lied, and I never used to find fault with my lot, but since I have begun to complain of everything, I find fault with it involuntarily, and against my will. When I murmur at my fate every one who hears me is seized with the same disgust of life and begins to grumble too. And what a strange way I have of looking at things! Exactly as if I were doing the world a favour by living in it. Oh, I am contemptible.
SASHA. Wait a moment. From what you have just said, it is obvious that you are tired of your melancholy mood, and that the time has come for you to begin life afresh. How splendid!
IVANOFF. I don’t see anything splendid about it. How can I lead a new life? I am lost forever. It is time we both understood that. A new life indeed!
SASHA. Nicholas, come to your senses. How can you say you are lost? What do you mean by such cynicism? No, I won’t listen to you or talk with you. Go to the church!
IVANOFF. I am lost!
SASHA. Don’t talk so loud; our guests will hear you!
IVANOFF. If an intelligent, educated, and healthy man begins to complain of his lot and go downhill, there is nothing for him to do but to go on down until he reaches the bottom — there is no hope for him. Where could my salvation come from? How can I save myself? I cannot drink, because it makes my head ache. I never could write bad poetry. I cannot pray for strength and see anything lofty in the languor of my soul. Laziness is laziness and weakness weakness. I can find no other names for them. I am lost, I am lost; there is no doubt of that. [Looking around] Some one might come in; listen, Sasha, if you love me you must help me. Renounce me this minute; quickly!
SASHA. Oh, Nicholas! If you only knew how you are torturing me; what agony I have to endure for your sake! Good thoughtful friend, judge for yourself; can I possibly solve such a problem? Each day you put some horrible problem before me, each one more difficult than the last. I wanted to help you with my love, but this is martyrdom!
IVANOFF. And when you are my wife the problems will be harder than ever. Understand this: it is not love that is urging you to take this step, but the obstinacy of an honest nature. You have undertaken to reawaken the man in me and to save me in the face of every difficulty, and you are flattered by the hope of achieving your object. You are willing to give up now, but you are prevented from doing it by a feeling that is a false one. Understand yourself!
SASHA. What strange, wild reasoning! How can I give you up now? How can I? You have no mother, or sister, or friends. You are ruined; your estate has been destroyed; every one is speaking ill of you —
IVANOFF. It was foolish of me to come here; I should have done as I wanted to —
Enter LEBEDIEFF.
SASHA. [Running to her father] Father! He has rushed over here like a madman, and is torturing me! He insists that I should refuse to marry him; he says he doesn’t want to drag me down with him. Tell him that I won’t accept his generosity. I know what I am doing!
LEBEDIEFF. I can’t understand a word of what you are saying. What generosity?
IVANOFF. This marriage is not going to take place.
SASHA. It is going to take place. Papa, tell him that it is going to take place.
LEBEDIEFF. Wait! Wait! What objection have you to the marriage?
IVANOFF. I have explained it all to her, but she refuses to understand me.
LEBEDIEFF. Don’t explain it to her, but to me, and explain it so that I may understand. God forgive you, Nicholas, you have brought a great deal of darkness into our lives. I feel as if I were living in a museum; I look about me and don’t understand anything I see. This is torture. What on earth can an old man like