TUSENBACH. They keep asking me to organize a concert on behalf of the fire victims.
IRINA. Why, who could . . .
TUSENBACH. A person could organize one, if a person wanted to. Your sister Mariya, for instance, plays the piano marvelously.
KULYGIN. Marvelously is the way she plays!
IRINA. By now she’s forgotten. She hasn’t played for three years . . . or four.
TUSENBACH. Absolutely no one in this town understands music, not a single soul, but I do understand it and I give you my word of honor, your sister Mariya plays magnificently, there’s talent there.
KULYGIN. You’re right, Baron. I love her very much, my Masha. She’s superb.
TUSENBACH. To be able to play so splendidly and at the same time to realize that no one, absolutely no one understands you!
KULYGIN (sighs). Yes . . . But is it proper for her to take part in a concert? (Pause.) Of course I know nothing about it, gentlemen. Perhaps it might even be a good thing. Still, I must confess, our headmaster is a good man, a very good man indeed, the most intelligent of men, but the views he holds . . . Of course, it’s none of my business, but even so, if you like, I can probably talk to him about it.
CHEBUTYKIN picks up a porcelain clock in both hands and scrutinizes it.
VERSHININ. I got covered in filth at the fire, must look a sight. (Pause.) Yesterday I heard in passing that they intend to transfer our brigade somewhere far away. Some say, to the Kingdom of Poland, others—possibly to Chita.51
TUSENBACH. I heard that too. Then what? The town will be quite empty.
IRINA. And we shall go away!
CHEBUTYKIN (drops the clock, which shatters in pieces). Smithereens!
Pause; everyone is distressed and embarrassed.
KULYGIN (picks up the fragments). To break such an expensive object—ah, Ivan Romanych, Ivan Romanych! You get F minus for conduct!52
IRINA. That clock was our poor mama’s.
CHEBUTYKIN. Could be . . . If it’s mama’s, then it’s mama’s. Could be I didn’t break it, it only seems like I broke it. Maybe it only seems to us that we exist, but as a matter of fact we don’t. I don’t know anything, nobody knows anything. (At the door.) What are you staring at? Natasha’s having a cute little affair with Protopopov, and you don’t see it . . . There you sit and don’t see a thing, while Natasha’s having a little affair with Protopopov . . . (Sings.) “A fig for you and tell me how you like it . . .”53 (Exits.)
VERSHININ. Yes . . . (Laughs.) How altogether strange this is! When the fire broke out, I rushed home right away; I get there, take a look—our house is intact and unharmed and out of danger, but my two little girls are standing on the doorstep in nothing but their underwear, their mother’s missing, people are milling about, horses running, dogs, and their little girl faces express alarm, panic, entreaty, I don’t know what; my heart clenched when I saw those faces. My God, I think, what else will those girls have to live through in the course of a long life! I grab them, run, and keep thinking that thought: what else will they have to live through in this world!
Alarm bell; pause.
I get here, and their mother’s here, shouting, throwing a tantrum.
MASHA enters with a pillow and sits on the sofa.
And when my little girls were standing on the doorstep in nothing but their underwear, barefoot, and the street was red with flames, and there was a terrible racket, it occurred to me that things like that used to happen many years ago when there’d be a sudden enemy invasion, looting and burning . . . And yet, what a fundamental difference there is between how things are now and how they were then! And a little more time will go by, say two hundred, three hundred years, and our present life will be regarded in the same way with horror and contempt, everything that exists now will seem awkward and clumsy and very uncomfortable and strange. Oh, for all we know, what a life that’s going to be, what a life! (Laughs.) Forgive me, I’ve started philosophizing again. Do let me go on, ladies and gentlemen. I very much want to philosophize, the fit is on me now.
Pause.
Absolutely everyone’s asleep. As I was saying: what a life that’s going to be! Can you imagine . . . in town now there are only three like you, in generations to come there’ll be more, ever more and more, and there’ll come a time when everything will change to be your way, people will live your way, and then even you will become obsolete, people will evolve and be superior to you . . . (Laughs.) I’m in a funny mood today. I want like hell to live . . . (Sings.) “All ages bend the knee to love, its pangs are blessings from above . . .”54 MASHA. Trom-tom-tom.
VERSHININ. Trom-tom . . .
MASHA. Tra-ra-ra?
VERSHININ. Tra-ta-ta. (Laughs.)55
Enter FEDOTIK.
FEDOTIK (dances). AU burned up, all burned up! Every last thing!
Laughter.
IRINA. What’s so funny about that? Everything’s burnt?
FEDOTIK (laughs). Every last thing. Nothing’s left. Even the guitar was burnt, and the camera equipment burnt, and all my letters . . . And the notebook I wanted to give you — burnt too.
Enter SOLYONY.
IRINA. No, please, go away, Vasily Vasilich. You can’t come in here.
SOLYONY. Why can the Baron, and not me?
VERSHININ. We’d all better leave, in fact. How’s the fire?
SOLYONY. They say it’s dying down. No, I find this particularly odd, why can the Baron and why can’t I? (Takes out the flask of perfume and sprinkles it about.)
VERSHININ. Trom-tom-tom.
MASHA. Trom-tom.
VERSHININ (laughs; to Solyony). Let’s go into the reception room.
SOLYONY. All right, sir, but we’re making a note of it. “I’d make my meaning crystal clear, But ‘twould upset the geese, I fear . . .”56 (Looking at Tusenbach.) Cheep, cheep, cheep . . .
He exits with VERSHININ and FEDOTIK.
IRINA. That Solyony’s smoked up the place . . . (Startled.) The Baron’s asleep! Baron! Baron!
TUSENBACH (coming to). I was tired, though . . . The brickworks . . . I’m not raving, as a matter of fact I’ll be going to the brickworks soon, I’ll start working there . . . There’s been some talk about it already. (To Irina, tenderly.) You’re so pale, beautiful, bewitching . . .I feel as if your pallor brightens the dark atmosphere like a beacon . . . You’re sad, you’re dissatisfied with life . . . Oh, come away with me, come away to work together!
MASHA. Nikolay Lvovich, get out of here.
TUSENBACH (laughing). You’re here? I didn’t see you. (Kisses Irina’s hand.) Good-bye, I’ll be going . . . I look at you now and call to mind how once, long ago, on your saint’s day, you were confident and carefree and talked of the joys of hard work . . . And what a happy life flashed before me then! Where is it? (Kisses her hand.) You’ve got tears in your eyes. Go to bed, it’s daylight already . . . here comes the morning . . . If only I might give my life for you!