NATASHA passes through with a candle.
NATASHA (peers through one door, then another, and passes the door leading to her husband’s room). Andrey’s in there. Let him read. Do forgive me, Vasily Vasilich, I didn’t know you were here, I’m in a housecoat.
SOLYONY. It doesn’t matter to me. Good-bye! (Exits.)
NATASHA. And you’re tired, darling, my poor little girl. (Kisses Irina.) You should have gone to bed much sooner.
IRINA. Is Bobik asleep?
NATASHA. He’s asleep. But he sleeps so restlessly. By the way, darling, I wanted to tell you, but you’re never around, or I never have the time . . . Bobik’s present nursery seems to me to be cold and damp. But your room is so right for a baby. Dearest, sweetheart, move in with Olya for a while!
IRINA (confused). Where?
A troika with harness bells can be heard pulling up to the house.
NATASHA. You and Olya can be in one room for a while, and your room will go to Bobik. He’s such a little darling, today I say to him, “Bobik, you’re mine! All mine!” And he stares at me with his pretty little peepers. (Doorbell.) That’s Olga, I suppose. Isn’t she late! (The PARLOR MAID walks over to Natasha and whispers in her ear.) Protopopov? What a character. Pro-topopov’s here and wants me to go for a ride with him in the troika.45 (Laughs.) How funny men are . . . (Doorbell.) Someone’s ringing . . . Olga’s back, I suppose. (Exits.)
The PARLOR MAID runs out; IRINA sits rapt in thought; enter KULYGIN and OLGA, followed by VERSHININ.
KULYGIN. Would you look at this. But they said they’d be having a party.
VERSHININ. Strange, I left not long ago, half an hour, and they were waiting for the masqueraders . . .
IRINA. They’ve all gone.
KULYGIN. Masha’s gone too? Where did she go? And why is Protopopov downstairs waiting in a troika? Who’s he waiting for?
IRINA. Don’t give me a quiz . . . I’m tired.
KULYGIN. Temper, temper . . .
OLGA. The meeting only just ended. I’m exhausted. Our headmistress is ill, and I’m taking her place now. My head, my head aches, my head . . . (Sits.) Andrey lost two hundred rubles at cards yesterday . . . The whole town’s talking about it.
KULYGIN. Yes, the meeting wore me out too. (Sits.)
VERSHININ. My wife just now took it into her head to give me a scare, she all but poisoned herself. It’s all blown over, and I’m relieved, I can take it easy now . . . So, I suppose, we’ve got to go? Well then, let me wish you all the best. Fyodor Ilyich, walk somewhere with me! I can’t stay at home, I simply cannot . . . Let’s go for a walk!
KULYGIN. I’m tired. I’m going nowhere. (Rises.) I’m tired. Did my wife go home?
IRINA. I suppose so.
KULYGIN (kisses Irina’s hand). Good-bye. Tomorrow and the day after I’ve got the whole day to relax. All the best! (Goes.) I’d really like some tea. I counted on spending the evening in congenial company and — o, fallacem hominum spem!46. . . Accusative case, used in the vocative . . .
VERSHININ. Which means, I’m on my own. (Exits with KULYGIN, whistling.)
OLGA. My head aches, my poor head . . . Andrey lost . . . the whole town’s talking . . . I’ll go lie down. (Goes.) Tomorrow I’m free . . . Oh, goodness, how nice it’ll be! Free tomorrow, free the day after . . . My head aches, my poor head . . . (Exits.)
IRINA (alone). They’ve all gone. No one’s left.
In the street there’s a concertina, the NURSEMAID sings a song.
NATASHA (wearing a fur coat and hat walks through the reception room, followed by the PARLOR MAID). I’ll be back in half an hour. Just going for a little ride. (Exits.)
IRINA (alone, yearning). To Moscow! To Moscow! To Moscow!
Curtain
ACT THREE
Olga’s and Irina’s room. Beds at left and right, fenced round with screens. Between two and three o’clock in the morning. Offstage an alarm bell is ringing to fight a fire that started much earlier. Quite clearly no one in the house has been to bed yet. On a sofa lies MASHA, dressed, as usual, in black.
Enter OLGA and ANFISA.
ANFISA. They’re sitting downstairs now under the staircase . . . And I says, “Please go upstairs,” I says, “‘tain’t right for you to sit here,”—they’re crying. “Papa,” they says, “we don’t know where he’s at. God forbid,” they says, “he ain’t burnt up.” Where they’d get a notion like that! And there’s some more in the yard . . . undressed too.
OLGA (pulls dresses out of a wardrobe). Here, take this gray one . . . And this one too . . . The housecoat as well . . . And take this skirt, my dear . . . What a thing to happen, dear God! Kirsanov Lane is burnt to the ground, it seems. (Flings the dresses into her arms.) The poor Vershinins are in a panic . . . Their house was nearly burned down. Have them spend the night with us . . . we can’t let them go home . . . At poor Fedotik’s everything was burnt, nothing was saved . . .
ANFISA. You’d better call Ferapont, Olyushka, otherwise I can’t handle it all . . .
OLGA (rings). I’m not getting through . . . (Out the door.) Come in here, somebody!
Through the open door can be seen a window, red with the glow in the sky, and the fire brigade can be heard driving past the house.
How horrible. And I’m sick and tired of it!
Enter FERAPONT
Here, take this and carry it downstairs . . . The young Kolotilin ladies are standing under the stairs . . . give it to them. And give them this . . .
FERAPONT. Yes, ma’am. In the year ‘12 Moscow was burned down too. Lord God almighty! It sure surprised the Frenchies.47
OLGA. Go, go on . . .
FERAPONT. Yes ma’am. (Exits.)
OLGA. Nanny dear, darling, give it all away. We don’t need any of it, give it all away, nanny dear . . . I’m worn out, can barely stand on my feet . . . we can’t let the Vershinins go home . . . The little girls will sleep in the drawing-room, have the Colonel go to the baron’s . . . Fedotik can go to the baron’s too, or let him stay here with us in the reception room . . . The Doctor, as if he did it on purpose, is drunk, hideously drunk, and no one can be put in with him. And Vershinin’s wife in the drawing-room too.
ANFISA (faintly). Olyushka darling, don’t drive me away! Don’t drive me away!
OLGA. Don’t be silly, Nanny. No one’s going to drive you away.