FEDOTIK (to Irina). Just now at Pyzhikov’s on Moscow Street I bought you some colored pencils. And here’s a little penknife.
IRINA. You’re used to treating me like a child, but I really am grown up now . . . (Takes the pencils and penknife; with delight.) What fun!
FEDOTIK. And for myself I bought a jackknife . . . here, have a look at it . . . one blade, then another blade, a third, that’s for cleaning out the ears, this is a tiny scissors, this one’s for trimming nails . . .
RODÉ (loudly). Doctor, how old are you?
CHEBUTYKIN. Me? Thirty-two.
Laughter.
FEDOTIK. Now I’m going to show you another kind of solitaire . . . (Deals out a game ofsolitaire.)
The samovar is brought in. ANFISA is by the samovar; a bit of a wait and then NATASHA enters and also fusses around the samovar. SOLYONY enters and, after exchanging greetings, sits at the table.
VERSHININ. Incidentally, that’s quite a wind!
MASHA. Yes. I’m sick and tired of winter. I’ve already forgot what summer’s like.
IRINA. The solitaire’s coming out, I see. We’ll be in Moscow.
FEDOTIK. No it isn’t. You see, the eight was on top of the deuce of spades. (Laughs.) That means, you won’t be in Moscow.
CHEBUTYKIN (reads the paper). Tsitsikar.35 Smallpox is raging there.
ANFISA (coming over to Masha). Masha, have some tea, dearie. (To Vershinin.) Please, your honor . . . forgive me, dearie, I’ve forgot your name . . .
MASHA. Bring it here, Nanny. I refuse to go in there.
IRINA. Nanny!
ANFISA. Co-oming!
NATASHA (to Solyony). Breastfed children understand one perfectly. “Good morning,” I’ll say, “Good morning, Bobik darling!” He’ll stare at me in a special sort of way. You probably think that’s the mother in me talking but no, no, absolutely not! He’s an exceptional baby.
SOLYONY. If that baby were mine, I’d fry him in a pan and eat him. (Takes his glass into the drawing-room and sits in a corner.)
NATASHA (hiding her face in her hands). Rude, uncouth man!
MASHA. Happy the man who doesn’t notice whether it’s summer or winter. I think if I were in Moscow, I wouldn’t pay any attention to the weather. . .
VERSHININ. A few days ago I was reading the diary of a French cabinet minister, written in prison. The cabinet minister had been sentenced for taking bribes in the Panama scandal.36 With what intoxication, what ecstasy he recalls the birds he saw from his prison window and which he failed to notice before when he was a cabinet minister. Of course, now that he’s released and at liberty, he’s stopped noticing birds, just as before. And you’ll stop noticing Moscow once you’re living there. We have no happiness, there is none, we only long for it.
TUSENBACH (takes a little box from the table). Where are the chocolates?
IRINA. Solyony ate them.
TUSENBACH. All of ‘em?
ANFISA (handing round the tea). There’s a letter for you, dearie.
VERSHININ. For me? (Takes the letter.) From my daughters. (Reads.) Yes, naturally . . . Excuse me, Mariya Sergeevna, I’ll leave ever so quietly. I won’t have any tea. (Rises in great agitation.) These everlasting scenes . . .
MASHA. What is it? Not a secret?
VERSHININ (quietly). My wife poisoned herself again. I’ve got to go. I’ll slip out without being noticed. Awfully unpleasant all this. (Kisses Masha’s hand.) My dear, wonderful, lovely woman . . . I’ll slip out of here ever so quietly . . . (Exits.)
ANFISA. Where’s he off to? Why, I gave him tea . . . What a one.
MASHA (losing her temper). Stop it! Forever badgering us, you never give us a moment’s peace . . . (Goes with her cup to the table.) I’m sick and tired of you, old woman!
ANFISA. Why are you so touchy? Sweetheart!
ANDREY’S VOICE. Anfisa!
ANFISA (mimics). Anfisa! There he sits . . . (Exits.)
MASHA (in the reception room at the table, angrily). Do let me sit down! (Messes up the cards on the table.) Sprawling all over with your cards. Drink your tea!
IRINA. Mashka, you’re being nasty.
MASHA. If I’m nasty, don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me!
CHEBUTYKIN (laughing). Don’t touch her, don’t touch . . .
MASHA. You’re sixty years old, but you’re like a snotty little boy, nobody knows what the hell you’re babbling about.
NATASHA (sighs). Masha dear, what’s the point of using such expressions in polite conversation? With your lovely looks you’d be simply enchanting in decent society, I’ll say that straight to your face, if it weren’t for that vocabulary of yours. Je vous prie, pardonnez moi, Marie, mais vous avez des manières un peu grossières.37
TUSENBACH (restraining his laughter). May I . . . may I . . . I think there’s some cognac . . .
NATASHA. Il paraít, que mon Bobik déjå ne dort pas,38 he woke up. He isn’t well today. I’ll go to him, excuse me . . . (Exits.)
IRINA. But where has the Colonel gone?
MASHA. Home. His wife again—something unexpected.
TUSENBACH (goes to Solyony, carrying a decanter of cognac). You always sit by yourself, thinking about something—and you have no idea what. Well, let’s make peace. Let’s have some cognac. (They drink.) I’ll have to tickle the ivories all night tonight, I suppose, play all sorts of trash . . . Come what may!
SOLYONY. Why make peace? I haven’t quarreled with you.
TUSENBACH. You always make me feel that something has happened between us. You’ve got a strange personality, you must admit.
SOLYONY (declaiming). “Strange I may be, but then who is not?”39 “Contain your wrath, Aleko!”40
TUSENBACH. What’s Aleko got to do with it . . .
Pause.
SOLYONY. When I’m alone with anyone, it’s all right, I’m like everybody else, but in company I’m dejected, inhibited, and . . . I talk all sorts of rubbish. But all the same I’m more honest and decent than lots and lots of people. And I can prove it.
TUSENBACH. I often get angry with you, you’re constantly needling me when we’re in public, but all the same for some reason I have an affinity to you. Come what may, I’ll get drunk tonight. Let’s drink!
SOLYONY. Let’s drink. (They drink.) I don’t have anything against you, Baron. But my temperament is like Lermontov’s. (Quietly.) I even look a little like Lermontov41 . . . so they say . . . (Takes the flask of perfume from his pocket and sprinkles it on his hands.)