ZMEYUKINA. Phooey, don’t be so vulgar! Don’t you dare use such expressions!
YAT. Sorry! Of course, you’re accustomed, pardon the expression, to aristo-cratical society and . . .
ZMEYUKINA. Aah, leave me alone! I need poetry, excitement! Fan me, fan me . . .
ZHIGALOV (to Dymba). Shall we have another? (Pours.) There’s always time for a drink. The main thing, Kharlampy Spiridonych, don’t neglect your business. Drink up, but keep a clear head . . . Though if you want a little nip, why not have a little nip? Always time for a little nip . . . Your health! (They drink.) Say, have you got any tigers in Greece!
DYMBA. We got.
ZHIGALOV. How about lions?
DYMBA. And lions we got. In Russia is notting, in Greece is all ting.8 Dere I got fodder and oncle and brodders, but here is notting.
ZHIGALOV. Hmm . . . any whales in Greece?
DYMBA. All ting we got.
NASTASYA TIMOFEEVNA (to her husband). Why are you eating and drinking any old way? It’s time we all sat down. Don’t stick your fork in the lobsters . . . That’s there for the General. He may show up yet . . .
ZHIGALOV. Have you got lobsters in Greece?
DYMBA. We got . . . All ting we got dere.
ZHIGALOV. Hmm . . . have you got senior civil servants too?
ZMEYUKINA. I can imagine what a wonderful atmosphere there is in Greece!
ZHIGALOV. And I’ll bet a lot of monkeyshines as well. Greeks are just like Armenians or gypsies. Can’t sell you a sponge or a goldfish without trying to put one over on you. Shall we have another?
NASTASYA TIMOFEEVNA. Why keep drinking any old way? It’s time to sit down. Almost midnight! . . .
ZHIGALOV. If it’s sitting you want, sitting you’ll get. Ladies and gentlemen, please be so kind! Do me the favor! (He shouts.) Supper’s on! Young people!
NASTASYA TIMOFEEVNA. Dear guests! Be so kind! Take your seats!
ZMEYUKINA (sitting at the table). I need poetry! “But he, the rebel, seeks the storm, as if a storm could offer peace.”91 need a storm!
YAT (aside). Wonderful woman! I’m in love! Head over heels in love!
Enter DASHENKA, MOZGOVOY, BEST MAN, GROOM’S MEN, MAIDS OF HONOR, etc. Everyone sits noisily at the table. A moment’s pause, the band plays a march.
MOZGOVOY (rising). Ladies and gentlemen! I’m supposed to say the following . . . We’ve got all sorts of toasts and speeches lined up. So let’s not beat around the bush, but start right in! Ladies and gentlemen, I propose a toast to the newlyweds!
The band plays a fanfare. Cheers. Clinking glasses.
MOZGOVOY. It’s bitter!10 Sweeten it up!
EVERYONE. It’s bitter! Sweeten it up!
APLOMBOV and DASHENKA kiss.
YAT. Spectacular! Spectacular! I must remark, ladies and gentlemen, and give credit where credit’s due, that this room and the whole affair is magnificent! First-rate, enchanting! But do you know the one thing missing for absolute perfection? Electric lighting, pardon the expression! Every country has already installed electric lighting, and only Russia lags behind.
ZHIGALOV (weightily). Electricity . . . Hm . . . Well, in my opinion, electric light is just a lot of monkeyshines . . . They shovel in a little coal and think they’ve pulled the wool over your eyes! No, pal, if you’re going to light us up, don’t give us coal, but something with body to it, something special that a man can sink his teeth into! Give us fire—got me? —fire, which comes from nature, not your imagination!
YAT. If you’d ever seen what an electric battery’s made out of, maybe you’d change your mind.
ZHIGALOV. But I don’t want to see it. Monkeyshines. They’re swindling the common man . . . Squeezing the last drop out of him . . . We know their kind . . . As for you, young man, why stick up for monkeyshines, better have a drink and fill the glasses. That’s the thing to do!
APLOMBOV. I’m in complete agreement, Dad. What’s the point of trotting out these highbrow conversations? Personally I’ve got nothing against discussing any kind of invention in a scientific context, but is this the proper time! (To Dashenka.) What’s your opinion, “ma chair”?11
DASHENKA. The gentleman’s just trying to show off his eddication, talking about what nobody understands.
NASTASYA TIMOFEEVNA. We’ve lived all our life without education, thank God, and this is the third daughter we’ve married off to a good man. If, according to you, we’re so uneducated, why come here? Go back to your educated friends!
YAT. Nastasya Timofeevna, I’ve always respected your family, so if I bring up the electric light, it doesn’t mean I’m showing off. I’ll even have a drink. I’ve always wished Darya Yevdokimovna a good husband from the bottom of my heart. Nowadays, Nastasya Timofeevna, it’s not easy to find a good husband. These days everyone’s getting married for what he can make off it, for the money . . .
APLOMBOV. That’s an insinuation!
YAT (backing off). No insinuations intended . . . I wasn’t talking about present company . . . I just . . . generally speaking . . . For heaven’s sake! Everybody knows you’re marrying for love . . . The dowry’s skimpy enough.
NASTASYA TIMOFEEVNA. No, it is not skimpy! You open your mouth, young sir, and pay no mind to what comes out. Besides the thousand rubles cash money, we’re giving three ladies’ coats, a bed, and all the furniture. Just try and dig up such a dowry anywheres else!
YAT. I didn’t mean . . . Certainly, furniture’s a fine thing and . . . so are coats, of course, but I was concerned about this gentleman’s taking offense at my insinuations.
NASTASYA TIMOFEEVNA. Then don’t make any. Out of consideration for your parents we invited you to this wedding, and you make all kinds of remarks. If you knew that Epaminond Maksimych was marrying for money, why didn’t you say something earlier? (Tearfully.) I reared her, nursed her, cared for her . . . she was her mother’s pride and joy, my little girl . . .
APLOMBOV. So you believe him? Thank you ever so much! Most grateful to you! (To Yat.) As for you, Mr. Yat, although you’re a friend of mine, I won’t have you acting so discourteously in other people’s houses! I’ll thank you to clear out!
YAT. How’s that again?
APLOMBOV. If only you were the same kind of gentleman what I am! In a word, please clear out of here!
The band plays a fanfare.
GROOM’S MEN (to Aplombov). Let it alone! Calm down! Hey, cut it out! Sit down! Take it easy!
YAT. I didn’t do a thing . . . I just . . . I certainly don’t understand why . . . As you like, I’ll go . . . Only first pay me back the five rubles you borrowed last year for a quilted, pardon the expression, waistcoat. I’ll have one more drink, and then . . . I’ll go, only first you pay me what you owe me.
GROOM’S MEN. Hey, come on, come on! That’s enough! Is it worth arguing over nothing?