X
ANNA PETROVNA and LVOV enter through the door at right.
LVOV. Why, I ask you, did we have to come here?
ANNA PETROVNA. Never mind, they’ll be glad we came . . . Nobody here. They must be in the garden . . . Let’s go into the garden.
They go into the garden.
XI
AVDOTYA NAZAROVNA and DUDKIN.
DUDKIN (entering from the door at left). It’s not in the dining room, so I bet it’s somewhere in the pantry. We’ve got to worm it out of Yegorushka. Let’s go through the drawing-room.
AVDOTYA NAZAROVNA. How I’d like to tear her to shreds! . . .
They go out through the door at right.
XII
BABAKINA, BORKIN, and SHABELSKY.
BABAKINA and BORKIN run in from the garden, laughing; behind them, laughing and rubbing his hands, minces SHABELSKY.
BABAKINA. Such boredom! (Roars with laughter.) Such boredom! . . . They all walk and sit around as if they’d swallowed a poker. All my bones are numb with boredom. (Skips about.) Have to limber up!
BORKIN takes her round the waist and kisses her on the cheek.
SHABELSKY (roars with laughter and snaps his fingers). I’ll be damned! (Wheezes.) In a manner of speaking . . .
BABAKINA. Let go, take your hands away, you shameless creature, or else God knows what the Count will think! Leave me alone . . .
BORKIN. Love of my life, red carbuncle of my heart! . . . (Kisses her.) Lend me 2,300 rubles! . . .
BABAKINA. N-O — no . . . Anything else, but when it comes to money—thanks ever so . . . No, no, no . . . Ah, take your hands off me . . .
SHABELSKY (minces near them). Little puff-ball . . . She has her charms . . .
BORKIN (seriously). That’s enough . . . Let’s talk business . . . Let’s consider things objectively, in a businesslike way. Answer me straight, without equivocation or hocus-pocus: yes or no? Listen to me! (Points to the Count.) He needs money, a minimal income of three thousand a year. You need a husband. Want to be a countess?
SHABELSKY (roars with laughter). A wonderful cynic!
BORKIN. Want to be a countess? Yes or no?
BABAKINA (upset). You’re making this up, Misha, honestly . . . And people don’t do business this way, off the cuff like this . . . If the Count cares to, he can himself or . . . or I don’t know how this suddenly, all at once . . .
BORKIN. Now, now . . . don’t confuse the issue . . . It’s a business deal . . . Yes or no?
SHABELSKY (laughing and rubbing his hands). Actually, how about it? Damn it, should I really commit this dirty deed myself? Eh? Little puff-ball . . . . (Kisses Babakina on the cheek.) Superb . . . A tasty little pickle . . .
BABAKINA. Leave off, leave off, you’ve quite upset me . . . Go away, go away . . . No, don’t go away . . .
BORKIN. Quickly . . . Yes or no? Time’s running out . . .
BABAKINA. You know what, Count? You . . . you drive over to my place on a visit for two or three days . . . We’ll have fun there, not like here . . . Drive over tomorrow . . . (To Borkin.) No, you were joking, weren’t you?
BORKIN (angrily). Now who’d start joking about serious business?
BABAKINA. Leave off, leave off . . . Ah, I feel faint . . . I feel faint . . . A countess . . . I feel faint . . . I’m falling . . .
BORKIN and the COUNT, laughing, take her by the arms and, kissing her on the cheeks, lead her out the door at right.
XIII
IVANOV, SASHA, then ANNA PETROVNA.
IVANOV and SASHA run in from the garden.
IVANOV (clutching his head, in horror). It can’t be! Don’t, don’t, Shurochka! . . . Ah, don’t!
SASHA (passionately). I love you madly . . . Without you there’s no meaning to my life, no happiness and joy . . . For me, you’re everything . . .
IVANOV. What for, what for, my God, I don’t understand a thing . . . Shu-rochka, don’t do this!. .
SASHA. In my childhood you were my only joy, I loved you and your soul, like myself, and now your form incessantly fills my thoughts day and night and keeps me from living. I love you, Nikolay Alekseevich . . . With you anywhere to the ends of the earth, wherever you want, even the grave, only, for God’s sake, soon, otherwise I’ll suffocate . . .
IVANOV (bursts into peals of happy laughter). What is this? Does this mean starting life over from the beginning? Shurochka, does it? . . . Happiness is mine for the taking! (Draws her to him.) My youth, my prime . . .
ANNA PETROVNA enters from the garden and, on seeing her husband and Sasha, stops as if rooted to the spot.
Does it mean coming to life? Does it? Back to an active role again?
Kiss. After they kiss, IVANOV and SASHA look around and see Anna Petrovna.
(In horror.) Sarra!
Curtain
ACT THREE
Ivanov’s study. Desk, covered with an unruly sprawl of papers, books, official letters, knickknacks, revolvers; alongside the papers, a lamp, a carafe of vodka, a plate of herring, pieces of bread and pickled gherkins. On the wall regional maps, pictures, shotguns, pistols, sickles, riding crops, and so on. It is midday.
I
SHABELSKY, LEBEDEV, BORKIN, and PYOTR.
SHABELSKY and LEBEDEV are sitting on either side of the desk. BORKIN is center stage astride a chair. PYOTR is standing by the door.
LEBEDEV. France has a clear and well-defined policy . . . The French know what they want. They need to give the Krauts a good thrashing and that’ll be that, while Germany, my boy, is singing a very different tune. Germany has plenty of other irons in the fire besides France . . .
SHABELSKY. Hogwash! . . . In my opinion, the Germans are cowards and so are the French . . . They give each other the finger behind their backs. Believe me, it won’t go beyond giving each other the finger. They won’t fight.36
BORKIN. The way I see it, why fight? What’s the point of all these arms buildups, conferences, defense budgets? You know what I’d do? I’d get together all the dogs in the whole nation, infect them with a good dose of Pasteur’s rabies37 and let ‘em loose behind enemy lines. All the combatants would be raving mad within a month.
SHABELSKY bursts out laughing.
LEBEDEV (laughs). That head may not look all that large, but it swarms with big ideas, countless multitudes of ‘em, like fishes in the sea.
SHABELSKY. A virtuoso . . . every day he gives birth to a thousand projects, snatches the stars from the sky, but all to no avail . . . He’s never got a penny in his pocket . . .
LEBEDEV. Art for art’s sake.
BORKIN. I’m not toiling for myself, but for others, for love of humanity.