Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series
BORTSOV. Marie... is it you? Where do you come from? [MARIA EGOROVNA
recognizes BORTSOV, screams and runs off into the centre of the floor.
BORTSOV follows] Marie, it is I... I [Laughs loudly] My wife! Marie!
Where am I? People, a light!
MARIA EGOROVNA. Get away from me! You lie, it isn’t you! It can’t be!
[Covers her face with her hands] It’s a lie, it’s all nonsense!
BORTSOV. Her voice, her movements.... Marie, it is I! I’ll stop in
a moment.... I was drunk.... My head’s going round.... My God! Stop,
stop.... I can’t understand anything. [Yells] My wife! [Falls at her
feet and sobs. A group collects around the husband and wife.]
MARIA EGOROVNA. Stand back! [To the COACHMAN] Denis, let’s go! I can’t
stop here any longer!
MERIK. [Jumps up and looks her steadily in the face] The portrait!
[Grasps her hand] It is she! Eh, people, she’s the gentleman’s wife!
MARIA EGOROVNA. Get away, fellow! [Tries to tear her hand away from him]
Denis, why do you stand there staring? [DENIS and TIHON run up to her
and get hold of MERIK’S arms] This thieves’ kitchen! Let go my hand! I’m
not afraid!... Get away from me!
MERIK. [Note: Throughout this speech, in the original, Merik uses the
familiar second person singular.] Wait a bit, and I’ll let go.... Just
let me say one word to you.... One word, so that you may understand....
Just wait.... [Turns to TIHON and DENIS] Get away, you rogues, let go! I
shan’t let you go till I’ve had my say! Stop... one moment. [Strikes
his forehead with his fist] No, God hasn’t given me the wisdom! I can’t
think of the word for you!
MARIA EGOROVNA. [Tears away her hand] Get away! Drunkards... let’s go,
Denis!
[She tries to go out, but MERIK blocks the door.]
MERIK. Just throw a glance at him, with only one eye if you like! Or say
only just one kind little word to him! God’s own sake!
MARIA EGOROVNA. Take away this... fool.
MERIK. Then the devil take you, you accursed woman!
[He swings his axe. General confusion. Everybody jumps up noisily and
with cries of horror. SAVVA stands between MERIK and MARIA EGOROVNA....
DENIS forces MERIK to one side and carries out his mistress. After this
all stand as if turned to stone. A prolonged pause. BORTSOV suddenly
waves his hands in the air.]
BORTSOV. Marie... where are you, Marie!
NAZAROVNA. My God, my God! You’ve torn up my your murderers! What an
accursed night!
MERIK. [Lowering his hand; he still holds the axe] Did I kill her or no?
HIGH ROAD
TIHON. Thank God, your head is safe....
MERIK. Then I didn’t kill her.... [Totters to his bed] Fate hasn’t sent
me to my death because of a stolen axe.... [Falls down and sobs] Woe!
Woe is me! Have pity on me, Orthodox people!
Curtain.
THE PROPOSAL
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