II
The same, SHABELSKY (offstage), and ANNA PETROVNA.
SHABELSKY’s voice from the window: “It’s impossible to play with you . . . You’ve no more ear than a gefilte fish, and your touch is a disgrace.”
ANNA PETROVNA (appears in the open window). Who was talking out here just now? Was it you, Misha? Why are you stamping around like that?
BORKIN. Talk to your Nicolas-voila[7] and it’d get you stamping too.
ANNA PETROVNA. Listen, Misha, have them bring some hay to the croquet lawn.
BORKIN (waves his hand in dismissal). Leave me alone, please . . .
ANNA PETROVNA. Really, what a tone to take . . . That tone of voice doesn’t suit you at all. If you want women to love you, never get angry with them and don’t act self-important . . . (to her husband.) Nikolay, let’s turn somersaults in the hay! . . .
IVANOV. Anyuta, it’s bad for your health to stand in an open window. Go in, please . . . (Shouts.) Uncle, shut the window!
The window is shut.
BORKIN. Don’t forget, day after tomorrow, the interest has to be paid to Lebedev.
IVANOV. I remember. I’ll be at Lebedev’s today and I’ll ask them to postpone it . . . (Looks at his watch.)
BORKIN. When are you going over there?
IVANOV. Right now.
BORKIN (quickly). Hold on, hold on! isn’t today, I think, Shurochka’s birthday? . . . Well, well, well, well . . . And me forgetting all about it . . . What a memory, eh? (Skips.) I’ll go, I’ll go . . . (Sings.) I’ll go . . . I’ll go for a swim, chew some paper, take three drops of ammonia,[8] and it’s off to a fresh start . . . Darling, Nikolay Alekseevich, sweetie-pie, love of my life, you’re always a nervous wreck, no kidding, you’re whining, constantly melancholeric,[9] and yet you and I, no kidding, could get a hell of a lot of things done together! I’m ready to do anything for you . . . You want me to marry Marfusha Babakina for your sake? Half the dowry is yours . . . I mean, not half, but all of it, take all of it! . . .
IVANOV. If you’re going to talk rot . . .
BORKIN. No, seriously, no kidding, you want me to marry Marfusha? Go fifty-fifty in the dowry . . . But why am I talking to you? As if you understood me? (Mimics him.) “If you’re going to talk rot.” You’re a good man, an intelligent man, but you haven’t got an ounce of, what d’y’call it, you know, get up and go. If only you’d do things in a big way, raise a little hell . . . You’re a neurotic, a crybaby, but if you were a normal man, you could make a million in a year’s time. For instance, if I had two thousand three hundred rubles right now, in two weeks I’d have twenty thousand. You don’t believe me? You think I’m talking nonsense? No, it’s not nonsense . . . Just give me two thousand three hundred rubles, and in a week I’ll show you twenty thousand. On the other side of the river Ovsyanov is selling a strip of land, just across from us, for two thousand three hundred rubles. If we buy that strip, we’ll own both sides of the riverbank. And if we own both sides, you understand, we have the right to dam the river. Get it? We could put up a mill, and as soon as we announce that we want to build a dam, everyone who lives downstream will kick up a fuss, and right away we go kommen Sie hier,[10] if you don’t want a dam, pay up. Get it? Zarev’s factory will pay us five thousand, Korolkov three thousand, the monastery will pay five thousand . . .
IVANOV. It’s all hocus-pocus, Misha . . . If you want us to stay friends, keep it to yourself.
BORKIN (sits at the table). Of course! . . . I knew it! You won’t do anything yourself, and you tie my hands . . .
III
The same, SHABELSKY, and LVOV.
SHABELSKY (coming out of the house with Lvov). Doctors are just like lawyers, the sole difference being, lawyers only rob you, while doctors rob you and kill you . . . Present company excepted. (Sits on a little settee.) Quacks, charlatans . . . Perhaps in some Utopia you can come across an exception to the general rule, but . . . over the course of a lifetime I’ve squandered about twenty thousand and never met a single doctor who didn’t strike me as a barefaced impostor.
BORKIN (to Ivanov). Yes, you won’t do anything yourself and you tie my hands. That’s why we don’t have any money . . .
SHABELSKY. I repeat, present company excepted . . . There may be exceptions, although, even so . . . (Yawns.)
IVANOV (closing the book). Doctor, what have you got to say?
LVOV (with a glance at the window). The same thing I said this morning: she has to go to the Crimea at once. (Walks up and down the stage.)
SHABELSKY (bursts out laughing). The Crimea! . . . Why don’t you and I, Misha, hang out a shingle as medicos? It’s so easy . . . A woman sneezes or coughs because she’s bored, some Madame Angot or Ophelia,’[11] quick, take a scrap of paper and prescribe along scientific principles: first, a young doctor, then a trip to the Crimea, in the Crimea a strapping Tatar . . .
IVANOV (to the Count). Ah, stop pestering, you pest! (To Lvov.) To go to the Crimea you need money. Suppose I find it, she definitely refuses to take the trip . . .
LVOV. Yes, she does.
Pause.
BORKIN. Say, Doctor, is Anna Petrovna really so seriously ill that she has to go to the Crimea?
LVOV (with a glance at the window). Yes, tuberculosis.
BORKIN. Psss! . . . that’s no good . . . For some time now I’ve noticed from her face that she wasn’t long for this world.
LVOV. But . . . don’t talk so loudly . . . you can be heard in the house . . .
Pause.
BORKIN (sighing). This life of ours . . . Human life is like a posy, growing gloriously in a meadow, a goat comes along, eats it, end of posy . . .
SHABELSKY. Nonsense, nonsense and more nonsense! . . . (Yawns.) Nonsense and monkey shines.
Pause.
BORKIN. Well, gentlemen, I keep trying to teach Nikolay Alekseevich how to make money. I’ve let him in on one wonderful idea, but my pollen, as usual, has fallen on barren ground. You can’t hammer anything into him . . . Look at him: melancholy, spleen, tedium, depression, heartache . . .
SHABELSKY (rises and stretches). You’re a brilliant thinker, you come up with something for everyone, you teach everyone how to live, but you’ve never taught me a single thing . . . Teach me, Mr. Know-it-all, show me the way to get ahead . . .
BORKIN (rises). I’m going for a swim . . . Good-bye, gentlemen . . . (to the Count.) You’ve got twenty ways to get ahead . . . If I were in your shoes, I’d make about twenty thousand in a week. (Going.)