Pause.
ZHELTUKHIN. All the same, you can feel a kind of tension . . . Ladies and gentleman, more life, more noise! (Raps with his knife.) The chairman has the floor!
SEREBRYAKOV. A psychological wrinkle. What strange desires people sometimes have! For some reason I’d very much like someone to insult me grossly or I’d like to fall ill . . . Obviously, my soul, I mean my psyche, is in need of a powerful reaction.
Pause. KHRUSHCHOV jumps up abruptly.
ZHELTUKHIN. What’s wrong?
KHRUSHCHOV (agitated). My God, I can’t stand it, I haven’t got the strength to put up with it any more! It makes me sick to my stomach! A villain, a shameless slanderer! At a difficult moment in her life she held out her arms to me and offered me her friendship, and I said to her: “Get away from me! I despise your friendship!” Just like everyone else, like a common slave, I insulted her, slandered her, hated her! Despise me, hate me, point your fingers at me . . .
DYADIN (anxiously). Mishenka, you mustn’t . . . (Kisses him.) You mustn’t . . .
KHRUSHCHOV. Aleksandr Vladimirovich, for twenty-five years you were a professor and served learning, I plant forests, but what’s the point, who’s it for, if we have no heart, we give each other no quarter, but destroy each other? Could you and I have done anything to save Georges? Where is your wife, whom I so inhumanly insulted? Where is our peace, where is my love? Everything’s been destroyed, wrecked, it’s all gone to rack and ruin! It’s all destroyed! Everyone run and shout . . .
SONYA and YULYA leap up. Total confusion.
DYADIN. Dear boy, Mishenka, calm down . . .
KHRUSHCHOV. It’s horrible! Horrible! It’s all destroyed!
YULYA (embraces and kisses him). Mikhail Lvovich, darling, precious . . .
SEREBRYAKOV. Give him some water.
KHRUSHCHOV. Forgive me, friends, I lost my self-control . . . I can’t endure this tension. Now I’ve got it off my chest. Sit down . . . Calm down.
ZHELTUKHIN. That’s enough! Basta!
DYADIN. Ladies and gentlemen, I swear that everything will come out all right. I don’t have the right to explain it to you, but . . . but, in short, God is merciful.
SONYA. Papa, it’s already getting dark. Let’s go home.
SEREBRYAKOV. No, let’s sit a while longer, my dear child. I can’t stand the walls at home. The later we go home, the better.
Enter FYODOR IVANOVICH.
VI
The same and FYODOR IVANOVICH.
SONYA (alarmed). Uncle Georges!
KHRUSHCHOV. Where do you see him? That’s enough!
SONYA. There he is!
KHRUSHCHOV. Where? That’s Fyodor . . . Friends, the best thing to do is keep still, don’t answer questions . . . Professor, pay him no attention.
SEREBRYAKOV. I have nothing against him. Let him be.
KHRUSHCHOV. Ssh!
FYODOR IVANOVICH (walking over to the table). Greetings! In the lap of nature? An amusing story. Afternoon, Wood Goblin!
Pause.
Why don’t you give me your hand?
KHRUSHCHOV (extending his hand). Here, take it . . .
FYODOR IVANOVICH (sits down). Is that you, Professor? Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. Too much rich living.
Pause.
It’s a lucky thing you’re here, Professor. I have to have a serious talk with you. These are all our friends, so I imagine we can speak frankly. Here’s what it’s all about. Sooner or later I’ll find Yelena Andreevna and marry her. Give her a divorce. I’ll pay you whatever you like . . .
KHRUSHCHOV. Ssh . . .
FYODOR IVANOVICH. However, does it sound as if I’m asking for the moon? Let’s discuss things calmly. (To Zheltukhin.) Lyonya, I rode over to your place in person. When I found out you were having a picnic, I hastened, as you see, to visit a friend. Why didn’t you invite me to the picnic?
ZHELTUKHIN. A peculiar question. How can I invite you? In the first place, I didn’t know where you were, in the second place, this idea, I mean the idea of a picnic, struck us just this afternoon. I didn’t have the time . . . Besides, given the situation . . .
FYODOR IVANOVICH. You’re not very astute. Answer me: why didn’t you invite me to this picnic?
ZHELTUKHIN. Let’s change the subject.
FYODOR IVANOVICH. Hm . . . My friend, I’ve experienced everything in this world. Except for flying in hot-air balloons, and I still haven’t challenged you to a duel even once. The balloons are unlikely, but a duel is an imminent possibility.
KHRUSHCHOV (shouts). Get out of here, you impudent fellow!
FYODOR IVANOVICH. Hush, hush! I’m a bundle of nerves.
KHRUSHCHOV. Get out of here!
FYODOR IVANOVICH. Let’s discuss things calmly. What I mean is this: first I’ll fight you, Lyonya, and then you, Wood Goblin . . .
KHRUSHCHOV. What’s going on here, at last? Don’t be afraid, Yulichka! Sofya Aleksandrovna, sit down! (To Fyodor Ivanovich.) Come with me and we’ll talk it over!
TRIFON enters rapidly, goes to the house, and raps on the window.
VII
The same and TRIFON.
DYADIN. Who is that? What do you want?
TRIFON. Is that you, Ilya Ilyich?
DYADIN. What do you want?
TRIFON. Good afternoon. Greetings to your honor. Regards from Lyudmila Ivanovna and she wants me to inform you that today at dinner Ivan Ivanych passed away.
FYODOR IVANOVICH. Father!? My God . . . Who’s that? That you, Trifon?
TRIFON. That’s right, sir . . .
FYODOR IVANOVICH. When did this happen?
TRIFON. Today at dinner.
FYODOR IVANOVICH. My God . . . I haven’t been home for a week . . . Father . . . Poor soul . . . Let’s go, Trifon . . . Hurry . . . (In a faltering voice.) Excuse me, friends . . . Professor, I still have something to talk to you about . . . I can’t remember . . . You’re a friend of my father . . . No, that’s not it . . . Here it is: your wife is a saint . . . (Exits with TRIFON.)
YULYA (after a pause). Poor Godfather!
SEREBRYAKOV. Let’s go home, Sonya. It’s time now.
SONYA. No, Papa, I can’t now. Let’s all sit here. That was the last straw . . . Nothing more can happen now . . . Nothing . . .
Pause.
KHRUSHCHOV. How depressing, how tense it all is! Lyonya, say something, sing, recite, or something! Recite!
ZHELTUKHIN. What should I recite?
Pause.
We hear someone in the house playing Lensky’s aria from
Yevgeny Onegin.
KHRUSHCHOV. What’s that? That’s Yelena Andreevna playing. Where did she come from? Where is she? What does this mean?