YELENA ANDREEVNA. No one is disputing your rights.
The window rattles in the wind.
The wind’s rising, I’ll close the window. (Closes it.) It’ll rain presently. No one is disputing your rights.
Pause. The WATCHMAN in the garden taps and sings a song.
SEREBRYAKOV. To labor all one’s life in the cause of learning, to grow accustomed to one’s study, to the lecture hall, to esteemed colleagues—and suddenly, for no rhyme or reason, to find oneself in this mausoleum, to spend every day seeing stupid people, listening to trivial chitchat . . . I want to live, I love success, I love celebrity, fame, and here — it’s like being in exile. Every minute yearning for the past, watching the successes of others, fearing death . . . I can’t do it! I haven’t got the strength! And on top of that they won’t forgive me my old age!
YELENA ANDREEVNA. Wait, be patient! In five or six years I too shall be old.
Enter SONYA.
SONYA. Papa, you specifically asked us to send for Doctor Astrov and when he came, you refused to let him in. That is discourteous. To disturb a man for no reason . . .
SEREBRYAKOV. What do I care about your Astrov? He understands as much about medicine as I do about astronomy.
SONYA. Just for your gout we can’t send for a whole medical school.
SEREBRYAKOV. I won’t even give that maniac[23] the time of day.
SONYA. Have it your way. (Sits.) It’s all the same to me.
SEREBRYAKOV. What’s the time now?
YELENA ANDREEVNA. Past twelve.
SEREBRYAKOV. It’s stifling . . . Sonya, get me the drops from the table!
SONYA. Right away. (Gives him the drops.)
SEREBRYAKOV (aggravated). Ah, not those! A person can’t ask for a thing!
SONYA. Please don’t be crotchety. Some people may care for it, but don’t try it on me, for goodness sake! I do not like it. And I have no time, I have to get up early tomorrow, I have hay to mow.
Enter VOINITSKY in dressing gown, holding a candle.
VOINITSKY. Outside there’s a storm brewing.
Lightning.
Clear out now! Hélène and Sonya, go to bed. I’ve come to take over for you.
SEREBRYAKOV (terrified). No, no! Don’t leave me with him! No. He’ll talk me blue in the face.
VOINITSKY. But they’ve got to get some rest! This is the second night they’ve had no sleep.
SEREBRYAKOV. Let them go to bed, but you go away too. Thank you. I implore you. For the sake of our former friendship, don’t protest. We’ll talk later.
VOINITSKY (with a sneer). Our former friendship . . . Former . . .
SONYA. Be quiet, Uncle Vanya.
SEREBRYAKOV (to his wife). My dear, don’t leave me alone with him! He’ll talk me blue in the face!
VOINITSKY. This is starting to get ridiculous.
Enter MARINA with a candle.
SONYA. You should be in bed, Nanny dear. It’s very late.
MARINA. The samovar’s not cleared from the table. Not likely a body’d be in bed.
SEREBRYAKOV. Nobody sleeps, everybody’s worn out, I’m the only one who’s deliriously happy.
MARINA (walks over to Serebryakov; tenderly). What is it, dearie? Achy? These legs o’ mine got twinges too, such twinges. (Adjusts the lap rug.) This complaint o’ yours goes back a long ways. Vera Petrovna, rest in peace, little Sonya’s mother could never sleep nights, wasting away . . . Oh, how she loved you.
Pause.
Old folks’re like little ‘uns, they want a body to feel sorry for ‘em, but old folks got no one to feel sorry for ‘em. (Kisses Serebryakov on the shoulder.)21 Let’s go, dearie, bedtime . . . Let’s go, my sunshine . . . Some lime-flower tea I’ll brew for you, your li’l legs I’ll warm . . . God I’ll pray to for you . . .
SEREBRYAKOV (moved). Let’s go, Marina.
MARINA. These legs o’ mine got twinges too, such twinges. (Leads him with SONYA’s help.) Vera Petrovna never stopped wasting away, never stopped crying . . . You, Sonya darlin’, were just a little ‘un then, a silly . . . Come, come, dearie . . .
SEREBRYAKOV, SONYA, and MARINA leave.
YELENA ANDREEVNA. I’ve worried myself sick over him. Can hardly stand on my feet.
VOINITSKY. He makes you sick and I make myself sick. This is the third night now I haven’t slept.
YELENA ANDREEVNA. There’s something oppressive about this house. Your mother hates everything except her pamphlets and the Professor; the Professor is irritable, won’t trust me, is afraid of you; Sonya’s nasty to her father, nasty to me, and hasn’t spoken to me for two weeks now; you hate my husband and openly despise your mother; I’m irritable and today some twenty times I was ready to burst into tears . . . There’s something oppressive about this house.
VOINITSKY. Let’s drop the philosophizing!
YELENA ANDREEVNA. Ivan Petrovich, you’re an educated, intelligent man, I should think you’d understand that the world is being destroyed not by criminals, not by fires, but by hatred, animosities, all this petty bickering . . . You shouldn’t be growling, you should be bringing everyone together.
VOINITSKY. First bring the two of us together! My darling . . . (Clutches her hand.)
YELENA ANDREEVNA. Stop it! (Extricates her hand.) Go away!
VOINITSKY. Any moment now the rain will end, and everything in nature will be refreshed and breathe easy. I’ll be the only thing not refreshed by the storm. Day and night, like an incubus,22 the idea chokes me that my life has been wasted irretrievably. I’ve got no past, it’s been stupidly squandered on trivialities, and the present is horrible in its absurdity. Here, take my life and my love; what am I to do with them? My better feelings are fading away for no reason at all, like a sunbeam trapped at the bottom of a mineshaft, and I’m fading along with them.
YELENA ANDREEVNA. Whenever you talk to me about your love, it’s as if I go numb and don’t know what to say. Forgive me, there’s nothing I can say to you. (About to go.) Goodnight.
VOINITSKY (blocks her path). And if only you had any idea how I suffer at the thought that right beside me in this house another life is fading away— yours! What are you waiting for? What damned philosophizing stands in your way? Seize the day, seize it . . .
YELENA ANDREEVNA (stares fixedly at him). Ivan Petrovich, you’re drunk!
VOINITSKY. Could be, could be . . .
YELENA ANDREEVNA. Where’s the doctor?