C h e b u t i k i n. I shan’t work.
T u z e n b a c h. You don’t matter.
S o l e n i. In twenty-five years’ time, we shall all be dead, thank the Lord. In two or three years’ time apoplexy will carry you off, or else I’ll blow your brains out, my pet. [Takes a scent-bottle out of his pocket and sprinkles his chest and hands.]
C h e b u t i k i n. [Laughs] It’s quite true, I never have worked. After I came down from the university I never stirred a finger or opened a book, I just read the papers. … [Takes another newspaper out of his pocket] Here we are. … I’ve learnt from the papers that there used to be one, Dobrolubov, for instance, but what he wrote – I don’t know … God only knows. … [Somebody is heard tapping on the floor from below] There. … They’re calling me downstairs, somebody’s come to see me. I’ll be back in a minute … won’t be long. … [Exit hurriedly, scratching his beard.]
I r i n a. He’s up to something.
T u z e n b a c h. Yes, he looked so pleased as he went out that I’m pretty certain he’ll bring you a present in a moment.
I r i n a. How unpleasant!
O l g a. Yes, it’s awful. He’s always doing silly things.
M a s h a.
“There stands a green oak by the sea.
And a chain of bright gold is around it …
And a chain of bright gold is around it. …”
O l g a. You’re not very bright today, Masha. [Masha sings, putting on her hat] Where are you off to?
M a s h a. Home.
I r i n a. That’s odd. …
T u z e n b a c h. On a name-day, too!
M a s h a. It doesn’t matter. I’ll come in the evening. Good-bye, dear. [Kisses Masha] Many happy returns, though I’ve said it before. In the old days when father was alive, every time we had a name-day, thirty or forty officers used to come, and there was lots of noise and fun, and today there’s only a man and a half, and it’s as quiet as a desert … I’m off … I’ve got the hump today, and am not at all cheerful, so don’t you mind me. [Laughs through her tears] We’ll have a talk later on, but good-bye for the present, my dear; I’ll go somewhere.
I r i n a. [Displeased] You are queer. …
O l g a. [Crying] I understand you, Masha.
S o l e n i. When a man talks philosophy, well, it is philosophy or at any rate sophistry; but when a woman, or two women, talk philosophy – it’s all my eye.
M a s h a. What do you mean by that, you very awful man?
S o l e n i. Oh, nothing. You came down on me before I could say … help! [Pause.]
M a s h a. [Angrily, to Olga] Don’t cry!
A n f i s a. This way, my dear. Come in, your feet are clean. [To Irina] From the District Council, from Mihail Ivanitch Protopopov … a cake.
I r i n a. Thank you. Please thank him. [Takes the cake.]
F e r a p o n t. What?
I r i n a. [Louder] Please thank him.
O l g a. Give him a pie, nurse. Ferapont, go, she’ll give you a pie.
F e r a p o n t. What?
A n f i s a. Come on, gran’fer, Ferapont Spiridonitch. Come on. [Exeunt.]
M a s h a. I don’t like this Mihail Potapitch or Ivanitch, Protopopov. We oughtn’t to invite him here.
I r i n a. I never asked him.
M a s h a. That’s all right.
O l g a. [Covers her face with her hands] A samovar! That’s awful! [Exit into the dining-room, to the table.]
I r i n a. My dear Ivan Romanovitch, what are you doing!
T u z e n b a c h. [Laughs] I told you so!
M a s h a. Ivan Romanovitch, you are simply shameless!
C h e b u t i k i n. My dear good girl, you are the only thing, and the dearest thing I have in the world. I’ll soon be sixty. I’m an old man, a lonely worthless old man. The only good thing in me is my love for you, and if it hadn’t been for that, I would have been dead long ago. … [To Irina] My dear little girl, I’ve known you since the day of your birth, I’ve carried you in my arms … I loved your dead mother. …
M a s h a. But your presents are so expensive!
C h e b u t i k i n. [Angrily, through his tears] Expensive presents. … You really, are! … [To the orderly] Take the samovar in there. … [Teasing] Expensive presents!
[The orderly goes into the dining-room with the samovar.]
A n f i s a. [Enters and crosses stage] My dear, there’s a strange Colonel come! He’s taken off his coat already. Children, he’s coming here. Irina darling, you’ll be a nice and polite little girl, won’t you. … Should have lunched a long time ago. … Oh, Lord. … [Exit.]
T u z e n b a c h. It must be Vershinin. [Enter Vershinin] Lieutenant-Colonel Vershinin!
V e r s h i n i n. [To Masha and Irina] I have the honour to introduce myself, my name is Vershinin. I am very glad indeed to be able to come at last. How you’ve grown! Oh! oh!
I r i n a. Please sit down. We’re very glad you’ve come.
V e r s h i n i n. [Gaily] I am glad, very glad! But there are three sisters, surely. I remember – three little girls. I forget your faces, but your father, Colonel Prosorov, used to have three little girls, I remember that perfectly, I saw them with my own eyes. How time does fly! Oh, dear, how it flies!
T u z e n b a c h. Alexander Ignateyevitch comes from Moscow.
I r i n a. From Moscow? Are you from Moscow?
V e r s h i n i n. Yes, that’s so. Your father used to be in charge of a battery there, and I was an officer in the same brigade. [To Masha] I seem to remember your face a little.
M a s h a. I don’t remember you.
I r i n a. Olga! Olga! [Shouts into the dining-room] Olga! Come along! [Olga enters from the dining-room] Lieutenant Colonel Vershinin comes from Moscow, as it happens.
V e r s h i n i n. I take it that you are Olga Sergeyevna, the eldest, and that you are Maria … and you are Irina, the youngest. …
O l g a. So you come from Moscow?
V e r s h i n i n. Yes. I went to school in Moscow and began my service there; I was there for a long time until at last I got my battery and moved over here, as you see. I don’t really remember you, I only remember that there used to be three sisters. I remember your father well; I have only to shut my eyes to see him as he was. I used to come to your house in Moscow. …
O l g a. I used to think I remembered everybody, but …
V e r s h i n i n. My name is Alexander Ignateyevitch.
I r i n a. Alexander Ignateyevitch, you’ve come from Moscow. That is really quite a surprise!
O l g a. We are going to live there, you see.
I r i n a. We think we may be there this autumn. It’s our native town, we were born there. In Old Basmanni Road. … [They both laugh for joy.]
M a s h a. We’ve unexpectedly met a fellow countryman. [Briskly] I remember: Do you remember, Olga, they used to speak at home of a “lovelorn Major.” You were only a Lieutenant then, and in love with somebody, but for some reason they