MERCHUTKINA. Ah, ah . . . saints alive, I’m blacking out! Ah! (Falls unconscious into Shipuchin’s arms.)
A knock at the door and a voice offstage: “The deputation!”
SHIPUCHIN. Deputation . . . reputation . . . occupation . . .
KHIRIN (stamps his feet). Get out, damn it to hell! (Rolls up his sleeves.) Hand her over to me! I could do something violent!
Enter the five-man deputation; all in tailcoats. One of them is holding the testimonial in a velvet binder, another the loving cup. EMPLOYEES look on through the doorway to the boardroom. TATYANA ALEKSEEVNA is on the sofa, MERCHUTKINA in Shipuchin’s arms, both moaning quietly.
SHAREHOLDER (reads loudly). Highly respected and cherished Andrey Andreich! On casting a retrospective glance at the past of our financial institution and running our mind’s eye over the course of its gradual development, the impression we receive is gratifying to the nth degree. True, in the early days of its existence the limited scope of its original capital, the lack of any profitable operations, as well as the vagueness of its goals gave point to Hamlet’s question: “To be or not to be?,” and at one time voices were even raised in favor of closing the bank. But then you put yourself at the head of our institution. Your knowhow, energy and characteristic discretion were reasons for its exceptional success and rare prosperity. The reputation of the bank . . . (coughs) the reputation of the bank . . .
MERCHUTKINA (groans). Ugh! Ugh!
TATYANA ALEKSEEVNA (groans). Water! Water!
SHAREHOLDER (carries on). Reputation . . . (coughs) reputation of the bank was raised by you to such a height that our institution can now compete with the best foreign institutions . . .
SHIPUCHIN. Deputation . . . reputation . . . occupation . . . “two friends went for a walk one night and business talked in the moonlight . . .”11 “Say not that your youth was wasted, that my jealousy tormented you.”12
SHAREHOLDER (carries on in embarrassment). Then, casting an objective glance at the present, highly respected and cherished Andrey Andreich, we . . . (Lowering his voice.) Under the circumstances we’ll come back later . . . We’d better come back later . . .
They leave in confusion.
VARIANTS TO
The Celebration
Early version of the ending to the play (from the autograph manuscript). In this earlier version, Shipuchin is called Kistunov and Merchutkina is Shchukina.
VII
KISTUNOV, KHIRIN, and TATYANA ALEKSEEVNA.
TATYANA ALEKSEEVNA is lying on the sofa and groaning.
KHIRIN (after a brief pause). What did I tell you? What did I tell you? They came, they wrecked the place, they made scenes, one got twenty-five smackers and left, and there’s the other baby-doll . . . (Points at Tatyana Alekseevna.) They outdid themselves! I told you a thousand times that you mustn’t let them within shooting distance of you.
KISTUNOV. Deputation . . . reputation . . . Old bag, wife, felt boots . . . Somebody shot himself . . . “Two friends one night went for a walk and business talked.” (Rubbing his eyes.) For two weeks I’ve being composing this speech for the shareholders, bought on my own account a silver loving cup, paid my own seventy-five rubles for the binder for the speech, five whole days stood in front of the mirror and rehearsed the pose . . . and now what? It’s all failed! All of it! I’m disgraced! Ruined! My reputation gone!
KHIRIN. And whose fault is it? Yours! Yours! You ruined the whole business!
KISTUNOV. Shut up! It’s your fault, not mine!
KHIRIN. Yours! Yours!
KISTUNOV. No, yours! If it wasn’t for your nasty felt boots and your damned insufferable temper, none of this would have happened! Why did you chase my wife? Why did you shout at her? How dared you?
KHIRIN. And if you weren’t a coquette, and tried to throw a little less dust in their eyes . . . But, to hell with me, I don’t want to work here any more! Please let me have the gold medal and three hundred bonus! Please hand them over!
KISTUNOV. You’ll get nothing, you old bastard! I’ll give you the finger!
KHIRIN. Is that right? . . . Then here’s your report! (Tears up the report.) There! That’s for you! I’ve put you in hot water! Just you wait!
KISTUNOV (shouts). Clear out of here! (Rings.) Hey, throw him out!
KHIRIN (stamps his feet). Out of my sight! I’m ready to do something violent! I won’t answer for myself! Get away!
KISTUNOV. Get out!
with cries of “Get away! Get out!” they chase one another.
Noise. The employees rush in.
Curtain
Lines from the autograph manuscript.
page 708 / After: while I sit here and — do the sums and calculate the percentages and make fair copies, and
page 710 / After: Pause. —
KISTUNOV. For what . . . Hm . . . Women, my dear fellow, are . . . the sort of thing . . . it’s when . . . it’s the aroma of life . . . But go on writing, my dear man . . . Have to make haste.
KHIRIN. There are all sorts of aromas . . .
Pause.
page 710 / Replace: You’re part of the team, so of course you know what’s going on . . . a stately doorman at the entrance.
with: Only I don’t know where the ceremony of reading the speech is to take place: at the club before the banquet or else here? I’d like it to be here, and hinted as much to them . . . (Looks around.) Such furniture! Neat and tidy! They may say I’m a fussbudget, that all I need is for the doorknobs to be polished, the employees to wear fashionable neckties, and a stately doorman to stand at the entrance, but look—the rest can go to hell.
page 710 / Before: The main thing is tone! — You have to pay attention to public opinion! It’s not a bank, they say, but a government department! There, they say, it’s awesome to go in! . . .
page 714 / After: What was there to do? — If she marries him, what will they live on? On love alone you don’t get fat!
page 715 / After: and that’s all . . . — And who has to deal with it? They’re all hanging ‘round my neck! Mine! (Weeps.)
page 716 / After: and besides that my son-in-law is out of work. — It’s a wonder that I can eat and drink and I can barely keep body and soul together. I didn’t sleep a wink all night . . .
page 717 / Replace: We seen your sort before
with: KHIRIN. Get out of here!
SHCHUKINA. We seen your sort. I’ll go to the lawyer Dmitry Karlych, and you’ll be out of a job. Three lodgers I’ve sued, and for your foul mouth I’ll strip you down to your felt boots.
NOTES
1 The names are suggestive: Shipuchin from shipat, to fizzle or sputter; Khirin from khirit, to be sickly or to decay; and Merchutkina from mertsat, to flicker, mertsalka, nightlight.