The Collected Works of Anton Chekhov: Plays, Novellas, Short Stories, Diary & Letters. Anton Chekhov
Читать онлайн книгу.
We are going to live there, you see.
IRINA. We think we may be there this autumn. It’s our native town, we were born there. In Old Basmanni Road…. [They both laugh for joy.]
MASHA. We’ve unexpectedly met a fellow countryman. [Briskly] I remember: Do you remember, Olga, they used to speak at home of a “lovelorn Major.” You were only a Lieutenant then, and in love with somebody, but for some reason they always called you a Major for fun.
VERSHININ. [Laughs] That’s it… the lovelorn Major, that’s got it!
MASHA. You only wore moustaches then. You have grown older! [Through her tears] You have grown older!
VERSHININ. Yes, when they used to call me the lovelorn Major, I was young and in love. I’ve grown out of both now.
OLGA. But you haven’t a single white hair yet. You’re older, but you’re not yet old.
VERSHININ. I’m forty-two, anyway. Have you been away from Moscow long?
IRINA. Eleven years. What are you crying for, Masha, you little fool…. [Crying] And I’m crying too.
MASHA. It’s all right. And where did you live?
VERSHININ. Old Basmanni Road.
OLGA. Same as we.
VERSHININ. Once I used to live in German Street. That was when the Red Barracks were my headquarters. There’s an ugly bridge in between, where the water rushes underneath. One gets melancholy when one is alone there. [Pause] Here the river is so wide and fine! It’s a splendid river!
OLGA. Yes, but it’s so cold. It’s very cold here, and the midges….
VERSHININ. What are you saying! Here you’ve got such a fine healthy Russian climate. You’ve a forest, a river… and birches. Dear, modest birches, I like them more than any other tree. It’s good to live here. Only it’s odd that the railway station should be thirteen miles away…. Nobody knows why.
SOLENI. I know why. [All look at him] Because if it was near it wouldn’t be far off, and if it’s far off, it can’t be near. [An awkward pause.]
TUZENBACH. Funny man.
OLGA. Now I know who you are. I remember.
VERSHININ. I used to know your mother.
CHEBUTIKIN. She was a good woman, rest her soul.
IRINA. Mother is buried in Moscow.
OLGA. At the Novo-Devichi Cemetery.
MASHA. Do you know, I’m beginning to forget her face. We’ll be forgotten in just the same way.
VERSHININ. Yes, they’ll forget us. It’s our fate, it can’t be helped. A time will come when everything that seems serious, significant, or very important to us will be forgotten, or considered trivial. [Pause] And the curious thing is that we can’t possibly find out what will come to be regarded as great and important, and what will be feeble, or silly. Didn’t the discoveries of Copernicus, or Columbus, say, seem unnecessary and ludicrous at first, while wasn’t it thought that some rubbish written by a fool, held all the truth? And it may so happen that our present existence, with which we are so satisfied, will in time appear strange, inconvenient, stupid, unclean, perhaps even sinful….
TUZENBACH. Who knows? But on the other hand, they may call our life noble and honour its memory. We’ve abolished torture and capital punishment, we live in security, but how much suffering there is still!
SOLENI. [In a feeble voice] There, there…. The Baron will go without his dinner if you only let him talk philosophy.
TUZENBACH. Vassili Vassilevitch, kindly leave me alone. [Changes his chair] You’re very dull, you know.
SOLENI. [Feebly] There, there, there.
TUZENBACH. [To VERSHININ] The sufferings we see to-day — there are so many of them! — still indicate a certain moral improvement in society.
VERSHININ. Yes, yes, of course.
CHEBUTIKIN. You said just now, Baron, that they may call our life noble; but we are very petty…. [Stands up] See how little I am. [Violin played behind.]
MASHA. That’s Andrey playing — our brother.
IRINA. He’s the learned member of the family. I expect he will be a professor some day. Father was a soldier, but his son chose an academic career for himself.
MASHA. That was father’s wish.
OLGA. We ragged him to-day. We think he’s a little in love.
IRINA. To a local lady. She will probably come here to-day.
MASHA. You should see the way she dresses! Quite prettily, quite fashionably too, but so badly! Some queer bright yellow skirt with a wretched little fringe and a red bodice. And such a complexion! Andrey isn’t in love. After all he has taste, he’s simply making fun of us. I heard yesterday that she was going to marry Protopopov, the chairman of the Local Council. That would do her nicely…. [At the side door] Andrey, come here! Just for a minute, dear! [Enter ANDREY.]
OLGA. My brother, Andrey Sergeyevitch.
VERSHININ. My name is Vershinin.
ANDREY. Mine is Prosorov. [Wipes his perspiring hands] You’ve come to take charge of the battery?
OLGA. Just think, Alexander Ignateyevitch comes from Moscow.
ANDREY. That’s all right. Now my little sisters won’t give you any rest.
VERSHININ. I’ve already managed to bore your sisters.
IRINA. Just look what a nice little photograph frame Andrey gave me to-day. [Shows it] He made it himself.
VERSHININ. [Looks at the frame and does not know what to say] Yes…. It’s a thing that…
IRINA. And he made that frame there, on the piano as well. [Andrey waves his hand and walks away.]
OLGA. He’s got a degree, and plays the violin, and cuts all sorts of things out of wood, and is really a domestic Admirable Crichton. Don’t go away, Andrey! He’s got into a habit of always going away. Come here!
[MASHA and IRINA take his arms and laughingly lead him back.]
MASHA. Come on, come on!
ANDREY. Please leave me alone.
MASHA. You are funny. Alexander Ignateyevitch used to be called the lovelorn Major, but he never minded.
VERSHININ. Not the least.
MASHA. I’d like to call you the lovelorn fiddler!
IRINA. Or the lovelorn professor!
OLGA. He’s in love! little Andrey is in love!
IRINA. [Applauds] Bravo, Bravo! Encore! Little Andrey is in love.
CHEBUTIKIN. [Goes up behind ANDREY and takes him round the waist with both arms] Nature only brought us into the world that we should love! [Roars with laughter, then sits down and reads a newspaper which he takes out of his pocket.]
ANDREY. That’s enough, quite enough…. [Wipes his face] I couldn’t sleep all night and now I can’t quite find my feet, so to speak. I read until four o’clock, then tried to sleep, but nothing happened. I thought about one thing and another, and then it dawned and the sun crawled into my bedroom. This summer, while I’m here, I want to translate a book from the English….
VERSHININ. Do you read English?
ANDREY. Yes father, rest his soul, educated us almost violently. It may seem funny and silly, but it’s nevertheless true, that after his death I began to fill out and get rounder, as if my body had had some great pressure taken off it. Thanks to father, my sisters and I know French, German, and English, and Irina knows Italian as well. But we paid dearly for it all!
MASHA. A knowledge of three languages is an unnecessary luxury in this