Pause.
The green color indicates the places where there were forests in our grandfathers’ day and earlier; the light green is where forests have been felled in the last twenty-five years, well, and the light blue is where forests are still intact. There’s twice as much light green as light blue.
Pause.
I want to make a map of the whole province . . .
Pause.
Well, what about you? Happy? Sorry, it’s a ridiculous question; I didn’t ask it the right way . . .
SONYA. Now, Mikhail Lvovich, is not the time to think about happiness.
KHRUSHCHOV. What else is there to think about?
SONYA. Our sorrow came about only because we were thinking too much about our happiness.
KHRUSHCHOV. Sorry.
SONYA. Every cloud has its silver lining. Sorrow has taught me, and now I understand how I went astray . . . We have to forget about our happiness, Mikhail Lvovich, and every moment think only about other people’s happiness. Our whole life has to be made up of sacrifices.
KHRUSHCHOV. Well, yes, marrying Zheltukhin . . .
Pause.
Mariya Vasilyevna had a son who shot himself and she still keeps on looking for contradictions in her pamphlets. A disaster befell you, and you solace your vanity with ideas about some kind of sacrifices . . . Nobody’s got any heart . . . Neither you nor I . . . Things are going wrong, it’s all falling to rack and ruin . . . I’m going to leave now . . .
SONYA. They’re coming here, and I’m crying . . .
Enter YULYA, DYADIN, and ZHELTUKHIN.
V
The same, YULYA, DYADIN, ZHELTUKHIN, then SEREBRYAKOV.
SEREBRYAKOV’s voice: “Yoo-hoo! Where are you, my friends?”
SONYA (shouts). Papa, over here! (Quickly dries her eyes.)
DYADIN. They’re bringing the samovar! Fascinating! (He and YULYA fuss with things on the table.)
Enter SEREBRYAKOV; with him the HOUSEKEEPER with a basket.
SONYA. Over here, Papa!
SEREBRYAKOV. I see, I see . . .
ZHELTUKHIN (loudly). Gentlemen, I call this session to order! Uncork the cordial!
KHRUSHCHOV (to Serebryakov). Professor, let’s forget everything that passed between us! (Extends his hand.) I beg your pardon. Believe in my sincerity!
SEREBRYAKOV. Thank you. Most delighted. You should forgive me as well. The day after that episode when I tried to contemplate all that had occurred and recalled our interchange, I was horrified by my cruelty. Let us be friends. (Takes him by the arm and goes to the table.)
DYADIN. Your excellency, I’m glad that you have chosen to pay a visit to my oasis . . . Very, very pleased!
SEREBRYAKOV. Thank you. Sit down, my friends. (Sits at the table.) It is beautiful here indeed. A veritable oasis. Let us not be silent, my friends, let us talk. In our situation that’s by far the best thing. We are responsible for our own misfortunes, let us bear them cheerfully. I can look at them more cheerfully than the rest of you, and that is because I am more to blame than the rest of you.
YULYA. Gentlemen, I don’t provide any sugar; drink it with jam.
DYADIN (bustling around among the guests). I’m so pleased, I’m so pleased! A little bit of cordial! Mishenka, have a little sweet roll!
SEREBRYAKOV. Recently, Mikhail Lvovich, I have experienced so much and done so much thinking that I believe I could write a whole treatise on the art of living. I repeat, the day after that event I was horrified by my cruelty; I was surprised how little I had seen and understood before and at the same time how much I had talked. Now it strikes me as strange that I never to talked to my wife about anything except my gout and my rights, but at the time I thought that what was needed . . . (His voice quavering with tears.) Of course, it’s all my fault . . . I won’t even mention Georges, who, if only . . .
ZHELTUKHIN. Aleksandr Vladimirovich, we promised each other not to talk about that today. You’ve forgotten our agreement.
DYADIN. Let the dead past bury the dead. God is merciful, all’s well that ends well. Away with melancholy! Let us drink tea with jam, with sugar, with a little bit of lemon and a little bit of cordial, while Lenichka himself will recite a bit of poetry.
SEREBRYAKOV. As a matter of fact, Leonid Stepanych, do recite something. You recite beautifully.
ZHELTUKHIN. What shall I recite for you?
SEREBRYAKOV. Something inoffensive . . . You’ve got a large supply.
ZHELTUKHIN. As you wish, sir . . . (After a moment’s thought.) Here’s a bit of Nekrasov, something in your line, Misha . . .
The Green Sound hums its way along,5
The Sound of Green, the Sound of Spring!
Like spilt milk,
The cherry orchards stand,
Ever so quietly they hum:
Warmed by the heat of the sun,
The cheerful pinewood
Forests hum;
And close at hand, with new green
The pale-leafed face
And little white birch tree
With a green braid
Sough the new song!
The lowly reed hums,
The stately maple hums . . .
They hum in a new way,
A new way, a springtime way . . .
The Green Sound hums its way along,
The Sound of Green, the Sound of Spring!
The savage thought grows weak,
The knife falls from the hand,
And I keep hearing but one song
— In the forest, in the meadow:
“Love, when the loving is good.
Be patient, when patience is called for,
Bid farewell, when farewell’s to be said,
And — God be thy judge!”
SONYA shudders.
ZHELTUKHIN. What made you shudder like that?
SONYA. Someone was shouting.
DYADIN. It’s the peasants down by the river catching crayfish.
Pause.
SEREBRYAKOV. How is Ivan Ivanych’s health?
KHRUSHCHOV. Bad.
Pause.
ZHELTUKHIN. Gentlemen, after all we did make an agreement to spend this evening as if nothing had happened . . . Honestly, there’s a kind of tension . . .
DYADIN. Your Excellency, I cherish for learning not just reverence, but even a kindred feeling. My brother Grigory Ilyich’s wife’s brother, maybe you deign to know him, Konstantin Gavrilych Novosyolov, had a master’s degree in comparative literature.
SEREBRYAKOV. I didn’t know him, but I know of him.
Pause.
SONYA. Yesterday was exactly fifteen days since Uncle Georges died.
ZHELTUKHIN. Sofya Aleksandrovna, the agreement!
SONYA. Sorry.
YULYA weeps.
ZHELTUKHIN. What’s come over you?
YULYA. Lyonichka said it first.
ZHELTUKHIN. What did I say?
YULYA. You did, you did!
KHRUSHCHOV. Yulichka, let’s not talk about it! I implore you!
SEREBRYAKOV. Cheer up, cheer up, cheer up! Even though the doctor’s forbidden it, all the same, I’ll have a little cordial. Follow my example, my friends! (Drinks.)