FYODOR IVANOVICH. Hm . . . you don’t understand . . . Once I was on my way home from hunting, lo and behold — on a tree there sits a screech owl. I send him a blast of buckshot! He goes on sitting . . . I send a number nine cartridge . . . He goes on sitting . . . Nothing gets through to him. He goes on sitting and just blinks his eyes.
SEREBRYAKOV. To what are you referring?
FYODOR IVANOVICH. To the screech owl. (Returns to the table.)
ORLOVSKY (hearkening). Excuse me, gentlemen . . . Quiet . . . I think there’s an alarm bell ringing somewhere . . .
FYODOR IVANOVICH (who has seen the glow). Oy-oy-oy! Look at the sky! What a glow!
ORLOVSKY. Good heavens, we’re sitting here and we’ll miss it!
DYADIN. Neat.
FYODOR IVANOVICH. My, my, my! That’s what I call fireworks! It’s near Alekseevskoe.
KHRUSHCHOV. No, Alekseevskoe would be more to the right . . . More likely it’s at Novo-Petrovskoe.
YULYA. How awful! I’m afraid of fires!
KHRUSHCHOV. It’s definitely Novo-Petrovskoe.
DYADIN (shouts). Semyon, run to the dam, and find out where the fire is coming from. Maybe you can see it!
SEMYON (shouts). It’s the Telibeev forest on fire.
DYADIN. What?
SEMYON. The Telibeev forest!
DYADIN. The forest . . .
Prolonged pause.
KHRUSHCHOV. I have to go there . . . to the fire. Good-bye . . . Excuse me, I was brusque—it’s because I’ve never felt so depressed as today . . . My heart is heavy . . . But that’s not a problem . . . One has to be a man and stand firmly on one’s own feet. I won’t shoot myself and throw myself under the mill wheel . . . I may not be a hero, but I shall become one! I shall grow eagle’s wings, and neither this glow nor the devil himself will frighten me! Let the forests burn — I shall plant new ones! If one woman fails to love me, I shall love another woman! (Exits quickly.)
YELENA ANDREEVNA. What a fine fellow!
ORLOVSKY. Yes . . . “If one woman fails to love me,—I shall love another woman.” What’s that supposed to mean?
SONYA. Take me away from here . . . I want to go home . . .
SEREBRYAKOV. Yes, it’s high time we went. The damp here is impossible. My lap rug and my overcoat are somewhere . . .
ZHELTUKHIN. The lap rug’s in the carriage, and the overcoat’s here. (Hands him the overcoat.)
SONYA (powerfully agitated). Take me away from here . . . Take me away . . .
ZHELTUKHIN. I’m at your service . . .
SONYA. No, I’ll go with my godfather. Take me with you, godfather dear . . .
ORLOVSKY. Let’s go, my dear girl, let’s go. (Helps her to put on her things.)
ZHELTUKHIN (aside). Damn it all . . . Nothing but bad behavior and humiliation.
FYODOR IVANOVICH and YULYA pack the dishes and napkins into the basket.
SEREBRYAKOV. The heel of my left foot is aching . . . Rheumatism, I suppose . . . I won’t sleep all night again.
YELENA ANDREEVNA (buttoning up her husband’s overcoat). Dear Ilya Ilyich, bring my hat and my cape from the house!
DYADIN. Right this minute! (Exits into the house and returns with the hat and the cape.)
ORLOVSKY. The glow, my dear girl, has terrified you. Don’t be afraid, it’s dying down. The fire is being put out . . .
YULYA. There’s half a jar of sour-cherry jam left . . . Well, let Ilya Ilyich finish it off. (To her brother.) Lyonochka, take the basket.
YELENA ANDREEVNA. I’m ready. (To her hushand.) Well, take me, statue of the Commendatore,50 and let’s go to hell together in your twenty-six melancholy rooms! That’s all I’m good for!
SEREBRYAKOV. Statue of the Commendatore . . . I ought to laugh at that metaphor, but the pain in my foot prevents me. (To everyone.) Good-bye, my friends! Thank you for your hospitality and the pleasant company . . . A magnificent evening, excellent tea — it’s all very nice, but, excuse me, there’s something of yours that I cannot accept—this homegrown philosophy of yours and your views on life. One must take action, gentlemen. Your way is impossible! One must take action . . . Yes, indeed . . . Good-bye. (Exits with his wife.)
FYODOR IVANOVICH. Let’s go, cape-able lady! (To his father.) Good-bye, progenitor! (Exits with YULYA.)
ZHELTUKHIN (with the hasket, following him). This basket is heavy, damn it . . . I can’t stand these picnics. (Exits and shouts offstage.) Aleksey, drive up!
X
ORLOVSKY, SONYA, and DYADIN.
ORLOVSKY (to Sonya). Well, why are you still sitting? Let’s go, sweetie-pie . . . (Exits with Sonya.)
DYADIN (aside). And nobody said good-bye to me . . . It’s fascinating! (Puts out the candles.)
ORLOVSKY (to Sonya). What’s wrong with you?
SONYA. I can’t go, godfather dear . . . I haven’t got the strength! I’m in despair, godfather dear . . . I’m in despair! It’s unbearably hard!
ORLOVSKY (anxious). What is it? My dear girl, my beauty . . .
SONYA. Let’s stay . . . Let’s remain here a while.
ORLOVSKY. First it’s take me home, then it’s stay here . . . I can’t figure you out . . .
SONYA. This is where I lost my happiness today . . . I can’t . . . Ah, godfather dear, why aren’t I dead! (Embraces him.) Ah, if only you knew, if only you knew!
ORLOVSKY. Take a sip of water . . . Let’s sit for a while . . . come on . . .
DYADIN. What’s the matter? Sofya Aleksandrovna, dearie . . . I can’t, I’m all a-tremble . . . (Tearfully.) I can’t look at this . . . My dear little child . . .
SONYA. Ilya Ilyich, my dear, take me to the fire! I implore you!
ORLOVSKY. Why do you have to be at the fire? What are you going to do there?
SONYA. I implore you, take me or I’ll go there on my own. I’m in despair . . . Godfather dear, it’s hard for me, unbearably hard. Take me to the fire.
KHRUSHCHOV enters hurriedly.
XI
The same and KHRUSHCHOV.
KHRUSHCHOV (shouts). Ilya Ilyich!
DYADIN. Over here! What’s up with you?
KHRUSHCHOV. I can’t get there on foot, lend me a horse.
SONYA ( on recognizing Khrushchov, joyously cries out). Mikhail Lvovich! (Goes to him.) Go on, godfather dear, I have to talk to him. (To Khrushchov.) Mikhail Lvovich, you said that you will love another woman . . . (To Orlovsky.) Go on, godfather dear . . . (To Khrushchov.) I am another woman now . . . I want nothing but the truth . . . Nothing, nothing but the truth! I love, love you . . . love . . .