Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (437 page)
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Authors: IVAN TURGENEV
(Ten years later) Scene: The office of an important official. Discovered: The secretary at the table.
[Don Pablo Sangre and Count Torreno enter.] Count Pablo [busily, to the secretary]: Are my papers ready? It is time for me . . .
Secretary [respectfully]: Here they are, Your Highness. [Both go out.]
Curtain
CHARACTERS
Timofei (Timosha) Petrovich Zhazikov, a young man
Matvei, his servant, an old man
Vasili Vasilevich Blinov, a land - owner from the steppes
A Russian merchant
A German shoemaker
A French artist
A girl A driver
An unknown man
A dog fancier
A lithographer’s clerk
Scene:
A reasonably well - furnished room.
[Zhazikov is sleeping in the bed behind the screen.’]
Matvei [entering and going up to the led]: Timofei Petrovich! Please get up. Timofei Petrovich! [Silence.] Timofei Petrovich! Timofei Petrovieh!
Zhazikov: M - m - m.
Matvei: Please get up, sir; it is time.
Zhazikov: What time is it?
Matvei: Quarter past ten.
Zhazikov [unusually provoked]: Why didn’t you wake me up before this? I told you yesterday Matvei: I did wake you, but you wouldn’t get up.
Zhazikov: You should have pulled the comfortable off. [Comes out from behind the screen, dressed in a bath - robe. Goes up to the window and looks out.~\ Brrr! It must be cold out. It is cold here too. Matvei, make the fire.
Matvei: There is no wood.
Zhazikov: How is that? Is it all gone?
Matvei: It is over a week since it is gone.
Zhazikov: What nonsense! What are you heating with?
Matvei: I am not heating.
Zhazikov [after a short silence]: That’s why I nearly froze to death. . . . You must get wood. However, about that later. Have you made tea?
Matvei: I have.
Zhazikov: Very well; let’s have some tea.
Matvei: All right. Only, there is no sugar.
Zhazikov: Sugar gone too? Every bit of it?
Matvei: Every piece of it.
Zhazikov [indignantly]: I can’t get along without tea. Go, and get sugar somewhere! Go!
Matvei: Where shall I get it, Timofei Petrovich?
Zhazikov: In the store. Have it charged. Say that I will pay to - morrow.
Matvei: He won’t trust any more, Timofei Petrovich. He scolds now.
Zhazikov: How much do we owe him?
Matvei: Seven rubles and sixty kopecks.
Zhazikov: Mean thing! Go and try once more; maybe he will give you some.
Matvei: He won’t, Timofei Petrovich.
Zhazikov: Tell him that in a couple of days your master will receive money from home, and that he will pay immediately. Go!
Matvei: There is no use going, Timofei Petrovich; he will not give any more without money. I know -
Zhazikov: He won’t give credit because you are a fool! You ask him for it as a favor: “Please trust us.” You haven’t got the least bit of — what do they call it in Kus - sian? . . . Well, what’s the difference, you wouldn’t understand it anyway. [Bell rings. Zhazikov runs behind the screen. In a low voice.] Don’t let anyone in; don’t let anyone in! Do you hear me? Say that I went out of town early this morning. [Stops up his ears with his fingers.] [Matvei goes out.]
Shoemaker’s Voice: Master home?
Matvei’s Voice: No.
Shoemaker’s Voice: Gott Donnerwetter! No?
Matvei’s Voice: No, he is not home, I tell you. Shoemaker’s Voice: Will he be home soon? Matvei’s Voice: I don’t know! no, not soon. Shoemaker’s Voice: How is that? That’s not right. I need money.
Matvei’s Voice: He went away. I tell you, he went away. He went away on business.
Shoemaker’s Voice: Mm! I’ll wait. Matvei’s Voice: You can’t wait here. Shoemaker’s Voice: I’ll wait.
Matvei’s Voice: No, you can’t wait here, you can’t. Go. I’ll go myself, pretty soon. Shoemaker’s Voice: I’ll wait. Matvei’s Voice: You can’t wait, I tell you. Shoemaker’s Voice: I need money; money I need. I won’t go away.
Matvei’s Voice: Go, go, I tell you. Shoemaker’s Voice: Shame, shame! A nice man and makes such things! Shame. . . .
Matvei’s Voice: Go to the devil! I can’t talk to you for an hour.
Shoemaker’s Voice: When money? When money? Matvei’s Voice: Come the day after to - morrow. Shoemaker’s Voice: What time? Matvei’s Voice: About this time. Shoemaker’s Voice: Well, good - bye. Matvei’s Voice: Good - bye.
[Clink of the door closing is heard. Matvei enters.] Zhazikov [timidly looking out from behind the screen]: Has he gone? Matvei: Yes, sir.
Zhazikov: Very well, very well. What a cursed German,!
All he wants is money, money. ... I don’t like Germans. Now go for sugar.
Matvei: But, Timofei Petrovich
Zhazikov: I don’t want to know anything! You want me to go without tea? Steal it, but bring it. . . . Go, go, go!
[Matvei goes out.~\ Zhazikov [alone]: That old fool is positively good - for - nothing! I must write for a younger one. [Short silence.] I must get money somewhere. ... Of whom shall I borrow? That’s the question. [Bell rings.] The devil! Another creditor! And Matvei has gone after sugar. [Rings again.] I can’t open the door for that devil. . . . [Bell rings.] It is surely some creditor — beast! [Bell.] How insolent he is! . . . [Starts to go to the door.] No, I mustn’t; and it is not proper. [Desperate ringing.] Burst, I don’t care. . . . [Shudders.] I think he has broken the bell. . . . How dare he? . . . Suppose it wasn’t a creditor? Suppose it was the letter - carrier with a money order? No, the letter - carrier wouldn’t ring like that. ... He would come later.
[Matvei enters.] Zhazikov: Where did you get lost? Someone broke the bell in your absence. It’s monstrous, awful! Well, did you bring sugar?
Matvei [taking a small package in gray paper from his pocket]: Here it is.
Zhazikov [opening it]: Is that all? There are only four pieces here, and they are full of dust. . . . Matvei: I had hard work getting that, sir. Zhazikov: Well, it’ll have to do. Let’s have the tea. [Begins to hum an Italian aria.] Matvei! Matvei: Yes, sir?
Zhazikov: Matvei, I want to order a livery for you.
Matvei: As you please, sir.
Zhazikov: What do you think? I want to order a livery of the very latest style for you, a purple - gray, with blue shoulder knots. . . . [Bell.] Hell! [Runs behind the screen.]
[Matvei goes out.]
Merchant’s Voice: Is your esteemed master still asleep?
Matvei’s Voice: No, he’s gone out.
Merchant’s Voice: Gone out?
Matvei’s Voice: Gone out.
Merchant’s Voice: So; got up quite early. How about money? Is there any lying around here?
Matvei’s Voice: I must say, not just now, but there will be soon.
Merchant’s Voice: That is, when? If not long, I’ll wait.
Matvei’s Voice: No, you had better come in two or three days.
Merchant’s Voice: So; so there is none lying around now?
Matvei’s Voice: Not now.
Merchant’s Voice: He doesn’t owe very much; but I declare, I have worn out my boots trying to collect it.
Matvei’s Voice: In about two days.
Merchant’s Voice: That is, on Thursday? I’d rather come in Friday or Saturday.
Matvei’s Voice: Well, all right; make it Saturday.
Merchant’s Voice: There is no money lying around now?
Matvei’s Voice: No, not just now.
Merchant’s Voice: So; then when shall I come?
Matvei’s Voice: I have told you — Saturday. Merchant’s Voice: Saturday? Well, all right, I’ll come Saturday. And so, you haven’t any now? Matvei’s Voice: Oh, Christ! We haven’t any. Merchant’s Voice: Not even twenty - five rubles? Matvei’s Voice: No, no; not even a copper. Merchant’s Voice: Not even twenty? Matvei’s Voice: Where should I get it? Merchant’s Voice: So you haven’t any money? Matvei’s Voice: I haven’t, I haven’t, I haven’t! Merchant’s Voice: Then when shall I come? Matvei’s Voice: Saturday, Saturday! Merchant’s Voice: Not before?
Matvei’s Voice: You can come before if you like; it won’t make any difference.
Merchant’s Voice: I’ll come Friday. Matvei’s Voice: All right, come Friday. Merchant’s Voice: And I’ll get the money? Matvei’s Voice: You’ll get it. Merchant’s Voice: Now you haven’t any? Matvei’s Voice: No, no. Merchant’s Voice: So! Friday? Matvei’s Voice: Yes. Merchant’s Voice: About this time? Matvei’s Voice: Yes, yes.
Merchant’s Voice: Or would it be better Saturday? Matvei’s Voice: You know best.
Merchant’s Voice: So, I’ll come Friday or Saturday, as I find it handier. You know, as I find it handier. Matvei’s Voice: Just as you see fit. Merchant’s Voice: Perhaps Friday. . . . And now, it isn’t possible to get any money?
Matvei’s Voice: 0 Lord, 0 Lord! 0 Lord!
Merchant’s Voice: Then Saturday. Excuse me.
Matvei’s Voice: Good - bye.
Merchant’s Voice: Good - bye. I’ll come in Friday or Saturday about this time. Excuse me.
[Click of door closing is heard. Matvei enters. He is pale and all in a perspiration.]
Zhazikov [coming out from behind the screen]: You ought to be ashamed of yourself, talking to that fool for an hour! Who was it?
Matvei [surlily]: The furnichure (furniture) man.
Zhazikov: Do I owe him anything?
Matvei: Fifty - two rubles.
Zhazikov: Is that so? For what? The desk has all gone to pieces. See. It doesn’t look like anything. In the future, I shall buy my furniture of Hambs. I hate Russian - made furniture. Russians know how to grow long beards, but not to make furniture. It is cheap but rotten. [Bell.] The devil take it! Again! They don’t let me do anything. I can’t even drink my tea in peace . . . it’s terrible. [Disappears behind the screen.]
[Matvei goes to the vestibule.]
Girl’s Voice: Is your master home?
[Zhazikov looks out from behind the screen quickly.]
Matvei’s Voice: No, he went away this morning.
Zhazikov [loudly]: Who is there?
Girl’s Voice: Why did you say he wasn’t home?
Matvei’s Voice: Well, go in ... If he himself . . .
