LEBEDEV. Well, so what? Let ‘em gossip if it keeps ‘em healthy . . . (Shouts.) Gavrila!
GAVRILA serves him vodka and water.
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA. So that’s why he’s ruined, poor thing. His business, sweetheart, has quite fallen off . . . If Borkin weren’t looking after the estate, there wouldn’t be anything for him and his kike bitch to eat. (Sighs.) As for us, sweetheart, the way we’ve suffered on account of him! . . . Suffered so much that only God can tell! Would you believe, my dear, for three years now, he’s owed us nine thousand . . .
BABAKINA (horrified). Nine thousand!
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA. Yes . . . It was that hubby dear of mine who arranged to lend it to him . . . He can’t tell the difference between someone you can lend to and someone you can’t . . . The principal I’ve given up on already, may it rest in peace, but I wish he’d pay the interest on time . . .
SASHA (heatedly). Mama, you’ve told us about this a thousand times already.
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA. What’s got into you? Why are you standing up for him?
SASHA (rises). But how can you have the heart to say such things about an honest, decent man who never did you any harm? Why, what has he done to you?
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA (sneering). Decent and honest man . . .
FIRST GUEST (sincerely). Aleksandra Pavlovna, I assure you that you’re quite mistaken . . . How is he honest? (Gets up.) Do you call that honesty? Two years ago, during the cattle epidemic, he bought livestock, insured the cattle . . .
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA (interrupting). He insured the cattle, infected them with cow-pox and collected the insurance money. Honesty . . .
FIRST GUEST. Everyone knows it perfectly well. . .
SASHA. It’s not true, it a lie. Nobody bought cattle and infected them, it’s only Borkin who concocted that scheme and bragged about it all over the place. When Ivanov found out about it, Borkin had to beg his forgiveness for two weeks running. Ivanov’s only fault is that he has a weak and generous nature and doesn’t have the heart to kick Borkin out . . .
FIRST GUEST. A weak nature . . . (Laughs.) Aleksandra Pavlovna, honest to God, open your eyes . . .
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA. You should be ashamed to stand up for him . . .
SASHA. I’m sorry that I got involved in this conversation . . . (Walks quickly to the door at right.)
LEBEDEV. Shura’s a hothead! . . . (Laughs.) The girl’s a powder-keg . . .
FIRST GUEST (stands in her path). Aleksandra Pavlovna, honest to God, I won’t go on! . . . Sorry . . . word of honor, I won’t do it any more! . . .
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA. At least in front of the guests, Sashenka, don’t display your temper.
SASHA (in a quavering voice). All his life he’s worked for others; everything he had has been filched and pilfered from him; because of his generous projects anyone who wanted could make a fortune out of him . . . Never in his life has he defiled himself with lies, scheming, not once have I heard that he spoke ill of anyone . . . and what’s the result? Wherever you go, all you hear is: Ivanov, Ivanov, Ivanov . . . as if there were no other topic of conversation.
LEBEDEV. Hot head . . . That’ll do . . . .
SASHA. Yes, he’s made mistakes, but every mistake made by such people as he is worth twenty times our good deeds . . . If you could only . . . (Looks around and sees Ivanov and Shabelsky.)
IV
The same, IVANOV, and SHABELSKY.
SHABELSKY (entering with Ivanov from the door at right). Who’s speechifying around here? You, Shurochka! (Roars with laughter and shakes her hand.) Congratulations, my angel. May God postpone your death and make sure you’re not reincarnated . . .
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA (gleefully). Nikolay Alekseevich . . . Count! . . .
LEBEDEV. Bah . . . Who do I see . . . Count! . . . (Goes to meet him.)
SHABELSKY (on seeing Zinaida Savishna and Babakina, extends his arms in their direction). Two gold-mines on one sofa! A sight for sore eyes . . . (Greets them; to Zinaida Savishna.) How are you, Zyuzyushka. (to Babakina.) How are you, my little puff-ball . . .
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA. I’m so pleased. You’re such an infrequent guest here, Count! (Shouts ) Gavrila, tea . . . Please, take a seat . . . (Gets up, exits through the door right, and immediately returns, with an extremely preoccupied look.)
SASHA sits in her former seat. IVANOV, after silently exchanging greetings with everyone, sits beside her. The YOUNG LADIES like a flock of geese pass back and forth to the veranda.
LEBEDEV (to Shabelsky). Where’ve you turned up from out of the blue? What wild horses have dragged you here? This is a surprise, or I’ll be damned . . . (Kisses him.) Count, you’re a real cutthroat . . . Respectable people don’t behave this way . . . (Takes him by the arm down to the footlights.) Why haven’t you visited us? Angry or something?
SHABELSKY. How am I supposed to visit you? Flying on a broomstick? I haven’t got horses of my own, and Nikolay won’t take me with him, makes me stay with the kike so she won’t get bored. Send your own horses for me, and then I’ll pay you a visit . . .
LEBEDEV (waves his hand in dismissal). Oh sure . . . Zyuzyushka would rather drop dead than use the horses. Old pal, dear man, you really are dearer and sweeter to me than all the rest of them! Of all the old-timers, you and I are the only ones left! “In you I love my bygone suff’rings, In you I love my wasted youth . . .”28 Joking aside, I could almost weep. (Kisses the Count.)
SHABELSKY. Cut it out, cut it out! You smell like a wine cellar . . .
LEBEDEV. Dear heart, you can’t imagine how bored I am without my friends! Ready to hang myself from tedium . . . (Quietly.) Zyuzyushka and her money-lending have driven away all the respectable people, there’s only Zulus left . . . these Dudkins, Budkins . . . Here, have some tea . . .
GAVRILA serves the Count tea.
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA (walks over to the Count; worried, to Gavrila). Well, how are you serving it? You should bring some preserves . . . Gooseberry or something . . .
SHABELSKY (roars with laughter; to Ivanov). There, didn’t I tell you? (to Lebedev.) I made a bet with him on the way that, as soon as we got here, Zyuzyushka would immediately offer us gooseberry preserves . . .
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA. Count, you’re still the same scoffer . . . (Sits on the sofa.)
LEBEDEV. Twenty kegs they made of it, how else can you get rid of the stuff?
SHABELSKY (sitting in an armchair next to the table). Still saving up, Zyuzyushka? Well now, are you a millionaire yet, eh?
ZINAIDA SAVISHNA (with a deep sigh). Yes, if you judge by appearances, nobody’s richer than we are, but where’s the money coming from? Nothing but talk . . .