Delphi Complete Works of Anton Chekhov (Illustrated) (401 page)

BOOK: Delphi Complete Works of Anton Chekhov (Illustrated)
11.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
 

LUKA. Go away, sir, and I’ll always pray to God for you!

 

SMIRNOV. She is a woman! That’s the sort I can understand! A real woman! Not a sour-faced jellybag, but fire, gunpowder, a rocket! I’m even sorry to have to kill her!

 

LUKA.
[Weeps]
Dear... dear sir, do go away!

 

SMIRNOV. I absolutely like her! Absolutely! Even though her cheeks are dimpled, I like her! I’m almost ready to let the debt go... and I’m not angry any longer.... Wonderful woman!

 

[Enter POPOVA with pistols.]

 

POPOVA. Here are the pistols.... But before we fight you must show me how to fire. I’ve never held a pistol in my hands before.

 

LUKA. Oh, Lord, have mercy and save her.... I’ll go and find the coachman and the gardener.... Why has this infliction come on us....
[Exit.]

 

SMIRNOV.
[Examining the pistols]
You see, there are several sorts of pistols.... There are Mortimer pistols, specially made for duels, they fire a percussion-cap. These are Smith and Wesson revolvers, triple action, with extractors.... These are excellent pistols. They can’t cost less than ninety roubles the pair.... You must hold the revolver like this....
[Aside]
Her eyes, her eyes! What an inspiring woman!

 

POPOVA. Like this?

 

SMIRNOV. Yes, like this.... Then you cock the trigger, and take aim like this.... Put your head back a little! Hold your arm out properly.... Like that.... Then you press this thing with your finger — and that’s all. The great thing is to keep cool and aim steadily.... Try not to jerk your arm.

 

POPOVA. Very well.... It’s inconvenient to shoot in a room, let’s go into the garden.

 

SMIRNOV. Come along then. But I warn you, I’m going to fire in the air.

 

POPOVA. That’s the last straw! Why?

 

SMIRNOV. Because... because... it’s my affair.

 

POPOVA. Are you afraid? Yes? Ah! No, sir, you don’t get out of it! You come with me! I shan’t have any peace until I’ve made a hole in your forehead... that forehead which I hate so much! Are you afraid?

 

SMIRNOV. Yes, I am afraid.

 

POPOVA. You lie! Why won’t you fight?

 

SMIRNOV. Because... because you... because I like you.

 

POPOVA.
[Laughs]
He likes me! He dares to say that he likes me!
[Points to the door]
That’s the way.

 

SMIRNOV. [Loads the revolver in silence, takes his cap and goes to the door. There he stops for half a minute, while they look at each other in silence, then he hesitatingly approaches POPOVA] Listen.... Are you still angry? I’m devilishly annoyed, too... but, do you understand... how can I express myself?... The fact is, you see, it’s like this, so to speak....
[Shouts]
Well, is it my fault that I like you? [He snatches at the back of a chair; the chair creaks and breaks] Devil take it, how I’m smashing up your furniture! I like you! Do you understand? I... I almost love you!

 

POPOVA. Get away from me — I hate you!

 

SMIRNOV. God, what a woman! I’ve never in my life seen one like her! I’m lost! Done for! Fallen into a mousetrap, like a mouse!

 

POPOVA. Stand back, or I’ll fire!

 

SMIRNOV. Fire, then! You can’t understand what happiness it would be to die before those beautiful eyes, to be shot by a revolver held in that little, velvet hand.... I’m out of my senses! Think, and make up your mind at once, because if I go out we shall never see each other again! Decide now.... I am a landowner, of respectable character, have an income of ten thousand a year. I can put a bullet through a coin tossed into the air as it comes down.... I own some fine horses.... Will you be my wife?

 

POPOVA. [Indignantly shakes her revolver] Let’s fight! Let’s go out!

 

SMIRNOV. I’m mad.... I understand nothing.
[Yells]
Waiter, water!

 

POPOVA.
[Yells]
Let’s go out and fight!

 

SMIRNOV. I’m off my head, I’m in love like a boy, like a fool! [Snatches her hand, she screams with pain] I love you!
[Kneels]
I love you as I’ve never loved before! I’ve refused twelve women, nine have refused me, but I never loved one of them as I love you.... I’m weak, I’m wax, I’ve melted.... I’m on my knees like a fool, offering you my hand.... Shame, shame! I haven’t been in love for five years, I’d taken a vow, and now all of a sudden I’m in love, like a fish out of water! I offer you my hand. Yes or no? You don’t want me? Very well! [Gets up and quickly goes to the door.]

 

POPOVA. Stop.

 

SMIRNOV.
[Stops]
Well?

 

POPOVA. Nothing, go away.... No, stop.... No, go away, go away! I hate you! Or no.... Don’t go away! Oh, if you knew how angry I am, how angry I am! [Throws her revolver on the table] My fingers have swollen because of all this.... [Tears her handkerchief in temper] What are you waiting for? Get out!

 

SMIRNOV. Good-bye.

 

POPOVA. Yes, yes, go away!...
[Yells]
Where are you going? Stop.... No, go away. Oh, how angry I am! Don’t come near me, don’t come near me!

 

SMIRNOV.
[Approaching her]
How angry I am with myself! I’m in love like a student, I’ve been on my knees....
[Rudely]
I love you! What do I want to fall in love with you for? To-morrow I’ve got to pay the interest, and begin mowing, and here you....
[Puts his arms around her]
I shall never forgive myself for this....

 

POPOVA. Get away from me! Take your hands away! I hate you! Let’s go and fight!

 

[A prolonged kiss. Enter LUKA with an axe, the GARDENER with a rake, the COACHMAN with a pitchfork, and WORKMEN with poles.]

 

LUKA. [Catches sight of the pair kissing] Little fathers!
[Pause.]

 

POPOVA.
[Lowering her eyes]
Luka, tell them in the stables that Toby isn’t to have any oats at all to-day.

 

Curtain.

 
THE PROPOSAL

 

 

Chekhov family (Top row, left to right) Ivan, Alexander, Father; (second row) unknown friend, Lika Mizinova, Masha, Mother, Seryozha Kiselev; (bottom row) Misha, Anton

 

CHARACTERS

 
STEPAN STEPANOVITCH CHUBUKOV, a landowner
 
NATALYA STEPANOVNA, his daughter, twenty-five years old
 
IVAN VASSILEVITCH LOMOV, a neighbour of Chubukov, a large and
 
hearty, but very suspicious landowner
 

The scene is laid at CHUBUKOV’s country-house

 

A drawing-room in CHUBUKOV’S house.

 

[LOMOV enters, wearing a dress-jacket and white gloves. CHUBUKOV rises to meet him.]

 

CHUBUKOV. My dear fellow, whom do I see! Ivan Vassilevitch! I am extremely glad!
[Squeezes his hand]
Now this is a surprise, my darling... How are you?

 

LOMOV. Thank you. And how may you be getting on?

 

CHUBUKOV. We just get along somehow, my angel, to your prayers, and so on. Sit down, please do.... Now, you know, you shouldn’t forget all about your neighbours, my darling. My dear fellow, why are you so formal in your get-up? Evening dress, gloves, and so on. Can you be going anywhere, my treasure?

 

LOMOV. No, I’ve come only to see you, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch.

 

CHUBUKOV. Then why are you in evening dress, my precious? As if you’re paying a New Year’s Eve visit!

 

LOMOV. Well, you see, it’s like this.
[Takes his arm]
I’ve come to you, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch, to trouble you with a request. Not once or twice have I already had the privilege of applying to you for help, and you have always, so to speak... I must ask your pardon, I am getting excited. I shall drink some water, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch.
[Drinks.]

 

CHUBUKOV.
[Aside]
He’s come to borrow money! Shan’t give him any!
[Aloud]
What is it, my beauty?

 

LOMOV. You see, Honour Stepanitch... I beg pardon, Stepan Honouritch... I mean, I’m awfully excited, as you will please notice.... In short, you alone can help me, though I don’t deserve it, of course... and haven’t any right to count on your assistance....

 

CHUBUKOV. Oh, don’t go round and round it, darling! Spit it out! Well?

 

LOMOV. One moment... this very minute. The fact is, I’ve come to ask the hand of your daughter, Natalya Stepanovna, in marriage.

 

CHUBUKOV.
[Joyfully]
By Jove! Ivan Vassilevitch! Say it again — I didn’t hear it all!

 

LOMOV. I have the honour to ask...

 

CHUBUKOV.
[Interrupting]
My dear fellow... I’m so glad, and so on.... Yes, indeed, and all that sort of thing.
[Embraces and kisses LOMOV]
I’ve been hoping for it for a long time. It’s been my continual desire.
[Sheds a tear]
And I’ve always loved you, my angel, as if you were my own son. May God give you both His help and His love and so on, and I did so much hope... What am I behaving in this idiotic way for? I’m off my balance with joy, absolutely off my balance! Oh, with all my soul... I’ll go and call Natasha, and all that.

 

LOMOV.
[Greatly moved]
Honoured Stepan Stepanovitch, do you think I may count on her consent?

 

CHUBUKOV. Why, of course, my darling, and... as if she won’t consent! She’s in love; egad, she’s like a love-sick cat, and so on.... Shan’t be long!
[Exit.]

 

LOMOV. It’s cold... I’m trembling all over, just as if I’d got an examination before me. The great thing is, I must have my mind made up. If I give myself time to think, to hesitate, to talk a lot, to look for an ideal, or for real love, then I’ll never get married.... Brr!... It’s cold! Natalya Stepanovna is an excellent housekeeper, not bad-looking, well-educated.... What more do I want? But I’m getting a noise in my ears from excitement.
[Drinks]
And it’s impossible for me not to marry.... In the first place, I’m already 35 — a critical age, so to speak. In the second place, I ought to lead a quiet and regular life.... I suffer from palpitations, I’m excitable and always getting awfully upset.... At this very moment my lips are trembling, and there’s a twitch in my right eyebrow.... But the very worst of all is the way I sleep. I no sooner get into bed and begin to go off when suddenly something in my left side — gives a pull, and I can feel it in my shoulder and head.... I jump up like a lunatic, walk about a bit, and lie down again, but as soon as I begin to get off to sleep there’s another pull! And this may happen twenty times....

 

[NATALYA STEPANOVNA comes in.]

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Well, there! It’s you, and papa said, “Go; there’s a merchant come for his goods.” How do you do, Ivan Vassilevitch!

 

LOMOV. How do you do, honoured Natalya Stepanovna?

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. You must excuse my apron and négligé... we’re shelling peas for drying. Why haven’t you been here for such a long time? Sit down.
[They seat themselves]
Won’t you have some lunch?

 

LOMOV. No, thank you, I’ve had some already.

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Then smoke.... Here are the matches.... The weather is splendid now, but yesterday it was so wet that the workmen didn’t do anything all day. How much hay have you stacked? Just think, I felt greedy and had a whole field cut, and now I’m not at all pleased about it because I’m afraid my hay may rot. I ought to have waited a bit. But what’s this? Why, you’re in evening dress! Well, I never! Are you going to a ball, or what? — though I must say you look better. Tell me, why are you got up like that?

 

LOMOV.
[Excited]
You see, honoured Natalya Stepanovna... the fact is, I’ve made up my mind to ask you to hear me out.... Of course you’ll be surprised and perhaps even angry, but a...
[Aside]
It’s awfully cold!

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What’s the matter?
[Pause]
Well?

 

LOMOV. I shall try to be brief. You must know, honoured Natalya Stepanovna, that I have long, since my childhood, in fact, had the privilege of knowing your family. My late aunt and her husband, from whom, as you know, I inherited my land, always had the greatest respect for your father and your late mother. The Lomovs and the Chubukovs have always had the most friendly, and I might almost say the most affectionate, regard for each other. And, as you know, my land is a near neighbour of yours. You will remember that my Oxen Meadows touch your birchwoods.

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Excuse my interrupting you. You say, “my Oxen Meadows....” But are they yours?

 

LOMOV. Yes, mine.

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What are you talking about? Oxen Meadows are ours, not yours!

 

LOMOV. No, mine, honoured Natalya Stepanovna.

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Well, I never knew that before. How do you make that out?

 

LOMOV. How? I’m speaking of those Oxen Meadows which are wedged in between your birchwoods and the Burnt Marsh.

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Yes, yes.... They’re ours.

 

LOMOV. No, you’re mistaken, honoured Natalya Stepanovna, they’re mine.

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Just think, Ivan Vassilevitch! How long have they been yours?

 

LOMOV. How long? As long as I can remember.

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Really, you won’t get me to believe that!

 

LOMOV. But you can see from the documents, honoured Natalya Stepanovna. Oxen Meadows, it’s true, were once the subject of dispute, but now everybody knows that they are mine. There’s nothing to argue about. You see, my aunt’s grandmother gave the free use of these Meadows in perpetuity to the peasants of your father’s grandfather, in return for which they were to make bricks for her. The peasants belonging to your father’s grandfather had the free use of the Meadows for forty years, and had got into the habit of regarding them as their own, when it happened that...

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. No, it isn’t at all like that! Both my grandfather and great-grandfather reckoned that their land extended to Burnt Marsh — which means that Oxen Meadows were ours. I don’t see what there is to argue about. It’s simply silly!

 

LOMOV. I’ll show you the documents, Natalya Stepanovna!

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. No, you’re simply joking, or making fun of me.... What a surprise! We’ve had the land for nearly three hundred years, and then we’re suddenly told that it isn’t ours! Ivan Vassilevitch, I can hardly believe my own ears.... These Meadows aren’t worth much to me. They only come to five dessiatins [Note: 13.5 acres], and are worth perhaps 300 roubles [Note: £30.], but I can’t stand unfairness. Say what you will, but I can’t stand unfairness.

 

LOMOV. Hear me out, I implore you! The peasants of your father’s grandfather, as I have already had the honour of explaining to you, used to bake bricks for my aunt’s grandmother. Now my aunt’s grandmother, wishing to make them a pleasant...

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I can’t make head or tail of all this about aunts and grandfathers and grandmothers! The Meadows are ours, and that’s all.

 

LOMOV. Mine.

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Ours! You can go on proving it for two days on end, you can go and put on fifteen dress-jackets, but I tell you they’re ours, ours, ours! I don’t want anything of yours and I don’t want to give up anything of mine. So there!

 

LOMOV. Natalya Ivanovna, I don’t want the Meadows, but I am acting on principle. If you like, I’ll make you a present of them.

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. I can make you a present of them myself, because they’re mine! Your behaviour, Ivan Vassilevitch, is strange, to say the least! Up to this we have always thought of you as a good neighbour, a friend: last year we lent you our threshing-machine, although on that account we had to put off our own threshing till November, but you behave to us as if we were gipsies. Giving me my own land, indeed! No, really, that’s not at all neighbourly! In my opinion, it’s even impudent, if you want to know....

 

LOMOV. Then you make out that I’m a land-grabber? Madam, never in my life have I grabbed anybody else’s land, and I shan’t allow anybody to accuse me of having done so.... [Quickly steps to the carafe and drinks more water] Oxen Meadows are mine!

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s not true, they’re ours!

 

LOMOV. Mine!

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. It’s not true! I’ll prove it! I’ll send my mowers out to the Meadows this very day!

 

LOMOV. What?

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. My mowers will be there this very day!

 

LOMOV. I’ll give it to them in the neck!

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. You dare!

 

LOMOV.
[Clutches at his heart]
Oxen Meadows are mine! You understand? Mine!

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Please don’t shout! You can shout yourself hoarse in your own house, but here I must ask you to restrain yourself!

 

LOMOV. If it wasn’t, madam, for this awful, excruciating palpitation, if my whole inside wasn’t upset, I’d talk to you in a different way!
[Yells]
Oxen Meadows are mine!

 

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Ours!

 

Other books

Ride or Die by Solomon Jones
Star-Crossed by Kele Moon
Safeword: Davenport by Candace Blevins
The Etruscan Net by Michael Gilbert
East Hope by Katharine Davis
McKettricks of Texas: Austin by Linda Lael Miller
Mrs. Ted Bliss by Stanley Elkin
Rounding the Mark by Andrea Camilleri