Anton Chekhov: Plays, Short Stories, Diary & Letters (Collected Edition). Anton Chekhov
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it, just for such trifles?
A GROOMSMAN. [Shouts] The health of the bride’s parents, Evdokim Zaharitch and Nastasya Timofeyevna! [Band plays a flourish. Cheers.]
ZHIGALOV. [Bows in all directions, in great emotion] I thank you! Dear guests! I am very grateful to you for not having forgotten and for having conferred this honour upon us without being standoffish And you must not think that I’m a rascal, or that I’m trying to swindle anybody. I’m speaking from my heart — from the purity of my soul! I wouldn’t deny anything to good people! We thank you very humbly! [Kisses.]
DASHENKA. [To her mother] Mama, why are you crying? I’m so happy!
APLOMBOV. Maman is disturbed at your coming separation. But I should advise her rather to remember the last talk we had.
YATS. Don’t cry, Nastasya Timofeyevna! Just think what are human tears, anyway? Just petty psychiatry, and nothing more!
ZMEYUKINA. And are there any redhaired men in Greece?
DIMBA. Yes, everysing is zere.
ZHIGALOV. But you don’t have our kinds of mushroom.
DIMBA. Yes, we’ve got zem and everysing.
MOZGOVOY. Harlampi Spiridonovitch, it’s your turn to speak! Ladies and gentlemen, a speech!
ALL. [To DIMBA] Speech! speech! Your turn!
DIMBA. Why? I don’t understand…. What is it!
ZMEYUKINA. No, no! You can’t refuse! It’s you turn! Get up!
DIMBA. [Gets up, confused] I can’t say what… Zere’s Russia and zere’s Greece. Zere’s people in Russia and people in Greece…. And zere’s people swimming the sea in karavs, which mean sips, and people on the land in railway trains. I understand. We are Greeks and you are Russians, and I want nussing…. I can tell you… zere’s Russia and zere’s Greece…
[Enter NUNIN.]
NUNIN. Wait, ladies and gentlemen, don’t eat now! Wait! Just one minute, Nastasya Timofeyevna! Just come here, if you don’t mind! [Takes NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA aside, puffing] Listen… The General’s coming… I found one at last…. I’m simply worn out…. A real General, a solid one — old, you know, aged perhaps eighty, or even ninety.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. When is he coming?
NUNIN. This minute. You’ll be grateful to me all your life. [Note: A few lines have been omitted: they refer to the “General’s” rank and its civil equivalent in words for which the English language has no corresponding terms. The “General” is an ex-naval officer, a second-class captain.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. You’re not deceiving me, Andrey darling?
NUNIN. Well, now, am I a swindler? You needn’t worry!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Sighs] One doesn’t like to spend money for nothing, Andrey darling!
NUNIN. Don’t you worry! He’s not a general, he’s a dream! [Raises his voice] I said to him: “You’ve quite forgotten us, your Excellency! It isn’t kind of your Excellency to forget your old friends! Nastasya Timofeyevna,” I said to him, “she’s very annoyed with you about it!” [Goes and sits at the table] And he says to me: “But, my friend, how can I go when I don’t know the bridegroom?” “Oh, nonsense, your excellency, why stand on ceremony? The bridegroom,” I said to him, “he’s a fine fellow, very free and easy. He’s a valuer,” I said, “at the Law courts, and don’t you think, your excellency, that he’s some rascal, some knave of hearts. Nowadays,” I said to him, “even decent women are employed at the Law courts.” He slapped me on the shoulder, we smoked a Havana cigar each, and now he’s coming…. Wait a little, ladies and gentlemen, don’t eat….
APLOMBOV. When’s he coming?
NUNIN. This minute. When I left him he was already putting on his goloshes. Wait a little, ladies and gentlemen, don’t eat yet.
APLOMBOV. The band should be told to play a march.
NUNIN. [Shouts] Musicians! A march! [The band plays a march for a minute.]
A WAITER. Mr. Revunov-Karaulov!
[ZHIGALOV, NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA, and NUNIN run to meet him. Enter REVUNOV-KARAULOV.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. [Bowing] Please come in, your excellency! So glad you’ve come!
REVUNOV. Awfully!
ZHIGALOV. We, your excellency, aren’t celebrities, we aren’t important, but quite ordinary, but don’t think on that account that there’s any fraud. We put good people into the best place, we begrudge nothing. Please!
REVUNOV. Awfully glad!
NUNIN. Let me introduce to you, your excellency, the bridegroom, Epaminond Maximovitch Aplombov, with his newly born… I mean his newly married wife! Ivan Mihailovitch Yats, employed on the telegraph! A foreigner of Greek nationality, a confectioner by trade, Harlampi Spiridonovitch Dimba! Osip Lukitch Babelmandebsky! And so on, and so on…. The rest are just trash. Sit down, your excellency!
REVUNOV. Awfully! Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I just want to say two words to Andrey. [Takes NUNIN aside] I say, old man, I’m a little put out…. Why do you call me your excellency? I’m not a general! I don’t rank as the equivalent of a colonel, even.
NUNIN. [Whispers] I know, only, Fyodor Yakovlevitch, be a good man and let us call you your excellency! The family here, you see, is patriarchal; it respects the aged, it likes rank.
REVUNOV. Oh, if it’s like that, very well…. [Goes to the table] Awfully!
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA. Sit down, your excellency! Be so good as to have some of this, your excellency! Only forgive us for not being used to etiquette; we’re plain people!
REVUNOV. [Not hearing] What? Hm… yes. [Pause] Yes…. In the old days everybody used to live simply and was happy. In spite of my rank, I am a man who lives plainly. To-day Andrey comes to me and asks me to come here to the wedding. “How shall I go,” I said, “when I don’t know them? It’s not good manners!” But he says: “They are good, simple, patriarchal people, glad to see anybody.” Well, if that’s the case… why not? Very glad to come. It’s very dull for me at home by myself, and if my presence at a wedding can make anybody happy, then I’m delighted to be here….
ZHIGALOV. Then that’s sincere, is it, your excellency? I respect that! I’m a plain man myself, without any deception, and I respect others who are like that. Eat, your excellency!
APLOMBOV. Is it long since you retired, your excellency?
REVUNOV. Eh? Yes, yes…. Quite true…. Yes. But, excuse me, what is this? The fish is sour… and the bread is sour. I can’t eat this! [APLOMBOV and DASHENKA kiss each other] He, he, he… Your health! [Pause] Yes…. In the old days everything was simple and everybody was glad…. I love simplicity…. I’m an old man. I retired in 1865. I’m 72. Yes, of course, in my younger days it was different, but — [Sees MOZGOVOY] You there… a sailor, are you?
MOZGOVOY. Yes, just so.
REVUNOV. Aha, so… yes. The navy means hard work. There’s a lot to think about and get a headache over. Every insignificant word has, so to speak, its special meaning! For instance, “Hoist her top-sheets and mainsail!” What’s it mean? A sailor can tell! He, he! — With almost mathematical precision!
NUNIN. The health of his excellency Fyodor Yakovlevitch Revunov-Karaulov! [Band plays a flourish. Cheers.]
YATS. You, your excellency, have just expressed yourself on the subject of the hard work involved in a naval career. But is telegraphy any easier? Nowadays, your excellency, nobody is appointed to the telegraphs if he cannot read and write French and German. But the transmission of telegrams is the most difficult thing of all. Awfully difficult!