Enter IVANOFF, in hat and coat, ANNA and SHABELSKI
SHABELSKI. Look here, Nicholas, this is simply barbarous You go away every evening and leave us here alone, and we get so bored that we have to go to bed at eight o’clock. It is a scandal, and no decent way of living. Why can you go driving if we can’t? Why?
ANNA. Leave him alone, Count. Let him go if he wants to.
IVANOFF. How can a sick woman like you go anywhere? You know you have a cough and must not go out after sunset. Ask the doctor here. You are no child, Annie, you must be reasonable. And as for you, what would you do with yourself over there?
SHABELSKI. I am ready to go anywhere: into the jaws of a crocodile, or even into the jaws of hell, so long as I don’t have to stay here. I am horribly bored. I am stupefied by this dullness. Every one here is tired of me. You leave me at home to entertain Anna, but I feel more like scratching and biting her.
ANNA. Leave him alone, Count. Leave him alone. Let him go if he enjoys himself there.
IVANOFF. What does this mean, Annie? You know I am not going for pleasure. I must see Lebedieff about the money I owe him.
ANNA. I don’t see why you need justify yourself to me. Go ahead! Who is keeping you?
IVANOFF. Heavens! Don’t let us bite one another’s heads off. Is that really unavoidable?
SHABELSKI. [Tearfully] Nicholas, my dear boy, do please take me with you. I might possibly be amused a little by the sight of all the fools and scoundrels I should see there. You know I haven’t been off this place since Easter.
IVANOFF. [Exasperated] Oh, very well! Come along then! How tiresome you all are!
SHABELSKI. I may go? Oh, thank you! [Takes him gaily by the arm and leads him aside] May I wear your straw hat?
IVANOFF. You may, only hurry, please.
SHABELSKI runs into the house.
IVANOFF. How tired I am of you all! But no, what am I saying? Annie, my manner to you is insufferable, and it never used to be. Well, goodbye, Annie. I shall be back by one.
ANNA. Nicholas! My dear husband, stay at home tonight!
IVANOFF. [Excitedly] Darling, sweetheart, my dear, unhappy one, I implore you to let me leave home in the evenings. I know it is cruel and unjust to ask this, but let me do you this injustice. It is such torture for me to stay. As soon as the sun goes down my soul is overwhelmed by the most horrible despair. Don’t ask me why; I don’t know; I swear I don’t. This dreadful melancholy torments me here, it drives me to the Lebedieff’s and there it grows worse than ever. I rush home; it still pursues me; and so I am tortured all through the night. It is breaking my heart.
ANNA. Nicholas, won’t you stay? We will talk together as we used to. We will have supper together and read afterward. The old grumbler and I have learned so many duets to play to you. [She kisses him. Then, after a pause] I can’t understand you any more. This has been going on for a year now. What has changed you so?
IVANOFF. I don’t know.
ANNA. And why don’t you want me to go driving with you in the evening?
IVANOFF. As you insist on knowing, I shall have to tell you. It is a little cruel, but you had best understand. When this melancholy fit is on me I begin to dislike you, Annie, and at such times I must escape from you. In short, I simply have to leave this house.
ANNA. Oh, you are sad, are you? I can understand that! Nicholas, let me tell you something: won’t you try to sing and laugh and scold as you used to? Stay here, and we will drink some liqueur together, and laugh, and chase away this sadness of yours in no time. Shall I sing to you? Or shall we sit in your study in the twilight as we used to, while you tell me about your sadness? I can read such suffering in your eyes! Let me look into them and weep, and our hearts will both be lighter. [She laughs and cries at once] Or is it really true that the flowers return with every spring, but lost happiness never returns? Oh, is it? Well, go then, go!
IVANOFF. Pray for me, Annie! [He goes; then stops and thinks for a moment] No, I can’t do it. [IVANOFF goes out.]
ANNA. Yes, go, go — [Sits down at the table.]
LVOFF. [Walking up and down] Make this a rule, Madam: as soon as the sun goes down you must go indoors and not come out again until morning. The damp evening air is bad for you.
ANNA. Yes, sir!
LVOFF. What do you mean by “Yes, sir”? I am speaking seriously.
ANNA. But I don’t want to be serious. [She coughs.]
LVOFF. There now, you see, you are coughing already.
SHABELSKI comes out of the house in his hat and coat.
SHABELSKI. Where is Nicholas? Is the carriage here yet? [Goes quickly to ANNA and kisses her hand] Goodnight, my darling! [Makes a face and speaks with a Jewish accent] I beg your bardon! [He goes quickly out.]
LVOFF. Idiot!
A pause; the sounds of a concertina are heard in the distance.
ANNA. Oh, how lonely it is! The coachman and the cook are having a little ball in there by themselves, and I — I am, as it were, abandoned. Why are you walking about, Doctor? Come and sit down here.
LVOFF. I can’t sit down.
[A pause.]
ANNA. They are playing “The Sparrow” in the kitchen. [She sings]
“Sparrow, Sparrow, where are you?
On the mountain drinking dew.”
[A pause] Are your father and mother living, Doctor?
LVOFF. My mother is living; my father is dead.
ANNA. Do you miss your mother very much?
LVOFF. I am too busy to miss any one.
ANNA. [Laughing] The flowers return with every spring, but lost happiness never returns. I wonder who taught me that? I think it was Nicholas himself. [Listens] The owl is hooting again.
LVOFF. Well, let it hoot.
ANNA. I have begun to think, Doctor, that fate has cheated me. Other people who, perhaps, are no better than I am are happy and have not had to pay for their happiness. But I have paid for it all, every moment of it, and such a price! Why should I have to pay so terribly? Dear friend, you are all too considerate and gentle with me to tell me the truth; but do you think I don’t know what is the matter with me? I know perfectly well. However, this isn’t a pleasant subject — [With a Jewish accent] “I beg your bardon!” Can you tell funny stories?
LVOFF. No, I can’t.
ANNA. Nicholas can. I am beginning to be surprised, too, at the injustice of people. Why do they return hatred for love, and answer truth with lies? Can you tell me how much longer I shall be hated by my mother and father? They live fifty miles away, and yet I can feel their hatred day and night, even in my sleep. And how do you account for the sadness of Nicholas? He says that he only dislikes me in the evening, when the fit is on him. I understand that, and can tolerate it, but what if he should come to dislike me altogether? Of course that is impossible, and yet — no, no, I mustn’t even imagine such a thing. [Sings]
“Sparrow, Sparrow, where are you?”
[She shudders] What fearful thoughts I have! You are not married, Doctor; there are many things that you cannot understand.
LVOFF. You say you are surprised, but — but it is you who surprise