Ivanov. Anton Chekhov
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practise.
Borkin(resuming, to Ivanov) Yes, tie my hands and sit on your own – that’s why we’re broke.
ShabelskyPresent company excepted, as I say – there could be anomalies . . . (Yawns.) though frankly I doubt it.
Ivanov(closing his book) So, doctor, what’s the verdict?
Lvov(glancing round at the window) No different from this morning – she needs to go south immediately – to the Crimea.
Shabelsky(snorts with laughter) To the Crimea! . . . We should all be doctors! It’s so simple – Madame’s got a tickle in her throat, or coughing for something to do, so grab a sheet of paper and prescribe as follows: take one young doctor, followed by one trip to the Crimea, and in the Crimea, one good-looking Tartar to put the colour in her cheeks . . .
Ivanov(to Shabelsky) Would you stop blathering on! (To Lvov.) To go to the Crimea requires money, and even supposing I find it, she won’t hear of it.
LvovI know.
BorkinI say, Doctor, is Anna Petrovna really as ill as all that? – Crimea and everything?
Lvov(glancing round at the window) Yes, it’s tuberculosis.
BorkinOof! . . . Not good . . . I could see in her face for a while now she’s not long for this world.
LvovPlease keep your voice down – you can be heard indoors.
Borkin(sighing) Life . . .! Life is like a flower in a field – we just have time to come into bloom, then along comes a goat and goodbye flower.
ShabelskyIt’s all nonsense and nothing but nonsense! . . . (Yawns.) Nonsense and humbug . . .
Pause.
BorkinI’ve been telling Nikolay Alekseevich how to make some money. I gave him a wonderful idea, but as ever the powder flashed in the pan. You can’t shift him . . . Look at him – a picture of misery . . . apathetic, worried sick.
Shabelsky(stands up and stretches) You have a fat-headed genius for scheming and telling everybody how to change their lives – but you’ve never once taught me anything – go on, show me how, if you’re so clever – show me the way.
Borkin(moving off) I’m going for a swim . . . Au revoir, gents – I could teach you twenty ways –
Shabelsky(following him) Go on then, show me.
BorkinNothing to it. In your shoes I’d have twenty thousand in a week. (Comes back.) Nikolay Alekseevich, can you give me a rouble?
Ivanov silently hands him the money.
Merci! (To Shabelsky.) You’ve got all the cards in your hand.
Shabelsky(following him) So, what are they?
BorkinIn your place I’d have thirty thousand in a week.
Shabelsky follows Borkin out.
Ivanov(aside) Useless people, useless talk, stupid questions . . . I’m ill with it. I’ve become crotchety, bad-tempered, rude to everyone . . . small-minded . . . I don’t know myself any more. My headaches last for days, I can’t sleep, there’s a buzzing in my ears, and there’s nowhere, absolutely nowhere, I can get away from everything.
LvovI need to have a serious talk with you.
Ivanov(continuing) Nowhere.
LvovAbout your wife. She won’t agree to the Crimea but she’d go if you went with her.
Ivanov turns to Lvov.
IvanovThe cost of both of us going . . . Anyway I can’t get away. I’ve already taken time off this year.
LvovAll right, say you can’t. Next point. The best medicine for TB is complete rest, and your wife doesn’t get a moment’s peace. She’s constantly upset by the way you treat her. Forgive me – I’m upset myself and I have to speak plainly. Your behaviour is killing her. Nikolay Alekseevich – please help me to think better of you.
IvanovIt’s true. It’s all true. I’m terribly to blame no doubt, but my mind is so confused, I’m sick to my soul with a sort of lassitude, I haven’t the energy to make sense of anything. (Glances at the window.) Let’s move off, go for a stroll . . . I wish I could tell you everything from the very beginning but I’d need all night.
They start to move off.
Anna was – is – a rare, remarkable woman. She changed her faith for me, her name – abandoned home and family, gave up her fortune . . . and if I’d asked her for a hundred other sacrifices she’d have made them without a second’s thought. Not like me. I haven’t sacrificed a thing, and there’s nothing remarkable about me. Well, anyway . . . (Ponders.) Well, briefly, I married her because I was madly in love, I swore I would love her for ever, but . . . five years went by, she still loves me but I . . . (Spreads hands in a gesture of helplessness.) And here you are telling me she’ll soon be dead, and I feel no love or pity but only a kind of hollowness. To you it must look awful – I don’t understand what’s happening to me myself . . .
They walk away into the garden.
Shabelsky enters, laughing heartily.
ShabelskyI swear to God, he’s a genius, a virtuoso! They should put up a statue. He’s a walking compendium of contemporary venality – lawyer, doctor, huckster, confidence trickster – (Sits down on the step of the terrace.) And, you know, he never finished school, that’s the extraordinary thing. If only he’d acquired a bit of culture and picked up some science he’d be a master criminal! ‘You, ‘ he says, ‘you could have twenty thousand in a week – you’re holding the ace of trumps, your title: Count!’ (Laughs heartily.) ’Any girl with a dowry would marry you . . . Do you want me to set up Marfa for you?’ he says. ‘What Marfa?’ Oh, of course, it’s that widow whatsername, Babakina, the one who looks like a washerwoman.
Anna opens the window and looks out.
AnnaIs that you, Count?
ShabelskyWhat is it?
Anna laughs.
(With a Jewish accent.) Oy, vy are you laughink?
AnnaI was just remembering what you came out with at dinner. The thief, the lame horse, how did it go?
ShabelskyA Jew baptised, a thief gone straight and a lame horse mended are all worth much of a muchness.
Anna(laughs) Even your little jokes are spiteful. You’re full of spite. (Unsmiling.) No, seriously. Living with you is a bore, it gets one down. You’re always sniping, everyone’s a crook or up to no good. Tell the truth, have you ever had a good word to say for anybody?
ShabelskyWhat is this, a cross-examination?
AnnaIn five years under the same roof I haven’t once heard you speak of anyone without sneering. What have they ever done to you? Do you think you’re better than they are?
ShabelskyNot at all. I’m as big a swine as any swine in a skullcap. I never have a good word for myself either. What am I? I used to be rich, I could do as I liked, I was quite happy . . . and now . . . I’m a leech, a buffoon. If I get angry people just laugh at me. If I laugh, they shake their heads and say the old boy’s past it. That’s when they don’t ignore me.
AnnaThere it goes again.
ShabelskyWhat?
AnnaThat owl . . . screeching, it does it every evening.
ShabelskyWell, let it. It can’t make things any worse. (Stretches himself.) Oh, Anna, if only my lottery number had come up – a hundred thousand, or two hundred . . . I’d have shown you . . . I’d have been out of here, no more of your charity, the Day of Judgement would have come before you caught me back in this hole.
AnnaOh yes? – and what would you have done with the money?
Shabelsky(having thought for a moment) First I’d have gone to Moscow to listen to some gypsy music.