PLATONOV (after a pause). All the same I will kick them out . . . I’ll kick all of them out! . . . It’s stupid, tactless, but . . . I’ll kick them out . . . I promised myself to have nothing to do with that herd of swine, but what can you do? Character is something innate, and lack of character is even more so . . .
Enter VENGEROVICH JR.
SCENE XXI
PLATONOV and VENGEROVICH JR.
VENGEROVICH JR. Listen, Mister Schoolmaster, I would advise you to keep off my father.
PLATONOV. Merci for the advice.
VENGEROVICH JR. I’m not joking. My father has a great many friends and so could easily have your job. I’m warning you.
PLATONOV. A big-hearted youngster! What’s your name?
VENGEROVICH JR. Isaak.
PLATONOV. In other words, Abram begat Isaac. Thank you, big-hearted youngster! In your turn, be so kind as to convey to your dear papa that I wish that he and his great many friends drop dead! Go and have something to eat, otherwise they’ll gobble all of it up without you, youngster!
VENGEROVICH JR. (shrugs and goes to the door). Strange, if it weren’t so stupid . . . (Stops.) Do you assume that I am angry with you because you won’t leave my father in peace? Not at all. I’m studying you, I’m not angry . . . I’m studying you as an example of the modern Chatsky40 and . . . I understand you! If you had been a cheerful sort, if you hadn’t been bored with being bone idle, then, believe me, you wouldn’t be picking on my father. You, Mister Chatsky, are not seeking truth, but amusing yourself, having fun at others’ expense . . . You haven’t got any menials around these days, but you have to take it out on somebody! So you take it out on all and sundry . . .
PLATONOV (laughs). Honest to God, that’s great! Why, you know, you’ve got the slightest glimmer of an imagination . . .
VENGEROVICH JR. The extraordinary thing is the revolting circumstance that you never pick a quarrel with my father one on one, tête-a-tête; you select the drawing-room for your amusements, where the fools can behold you in all your glory! Oh, what a ham!
PLATONOV. I’d like to have a talk with you ten years from now, even five . . . What shape will you be in then? Will you have the same impassive tone of voice, those flashing eyes? Actually, you’ll deteriorate a bit, youngster! Are your studies coming along all right? . . . I see by your face that they aren’t . . . You’re deteriorating! Anyway, go and eat! I won’t bandy words with you any more. I don’t like the dirty look on your face . . .
VENGEROVICH JR. (laughs). An aesthete. (Goes to the door.) Better a face with a dirty look on it than one that’s asking to be slapped.
PLATONOV. Yes, it is better . . . But . . . go and eat!
VENGEROVICH JR. We are not on speaking terms . . . Don’t forget that, please . . . (Exits.)
PLATONOV (alone). A youngster who doesn’t know a lot, thinks a lot, and talks a lot behind your back. (Looks through the doorway to the dining room.) And Sofya’s in there. Looking in all directions . . . She’s looking for me with her velvety eyes. What a pretty creature she is! How much beauty there is in her face! Her hair hasn’t changed! The same color, the same style . . . The many times I managed to kiss that hair! Wonderful memories that head of hair brings back to me . . .
Pause.
Has the time come when I have to settle for memories?
Pause.
Memory is a very good thing, but . . . can it be that for me . . . the end has come? Ugh, God forbid, God forbid! Death is preferable . . . I have to live . . . Keep on living . . . I’m still young!
Enter VOINITSEV.
SCENE XXII
PLATONOV and VOINITSEV and then TRILETSKY.
VOINITSEV (enters and wipes his mouth with a napkin). Let’s go and drink to Sophie’s health, there’s no reason to hide! . . . What’s wrong?
PLATONOV. I’ve been looking at and admiring your bride . . . A splendid young lady!
VOINITSEV laughs.
PLATONOV. You’re a lucky bastard!
VOINITSEV. Yes . . . I admit it . . . I am lucky. Not exactly lucky, from the point of view of . . . I can’t say that I’m completely . . . But generally speaking very lucky!
PLATONOV (looks through the doorway to the dining room). I’ve known her a long time, Sergey Pavlovich! I know her like the palm of my hand. How pretty she is now, but how much prettier she was then! It’s a shame you didn’t know her in those days! How pretty she is!
VOINITSEV. Yes.
PLATONOV. Those eyes?!
VOINITSEV. And the hair?!
PLATONOV. She was a wonderful girl! (Laughs.) As for my Sasha, my Avdotya, Matryona, Pelageya41 . . . She’s sitting over there! You can just see her behind that decanter of vodka! Touchy, excitable, upset by my behavior! Tormenting herself, poor thing, with the idea that now everyone condemns and hates me because I insulted Vengerovich!
VOINITSEV. Forgive the bluntness of the question . . . Are you happy with her?
PLATONOV. Family, pal . . . Take that away from me and I think I’d be a complete goner . . . Hearth and home! You’ll live and learn. Only it’s a shame you didn’t raise more hell, then you’d have a better idea of what a family is worth. I wouldn’t sell my Sasha for a million. We get along better than you can imagine . . . She’s brainless, and I’m worthless . . .
TRILETSKY enters.
(To Triletsky.) Full up?
TRILETSKY. To the max. (Slaps himself on the stomach.) Solid as a rock! Let’s go, my fine feathered friends, and have a drink . . . Gentlemen, we should toast the arrival of the hosts . . . Eh, pals . . . (Embraces the two of them.) So let’s have a drink! Eh! (Stretches.) Eh! This human life of ours! Blessed the man who heeds not the counsel of the unrighteous . . . (Stretches.) My fine feathered friends! You swindlers . . .
PLATONOV. Visited your patients today?
TRILETSKY. That’s for later . . . Or here’s what, Michel . . . I tell you once and for all. Stop bothering me! You and your sermons make me sick to my stomach! Be a lover of mankind! Recognize that I am a brick wall and you are a pea-shooter! Or if you absolutely must, if your tongue starts itching, then write down whatever you have to say. I’ll learn it by heart! Or, worst case scenario, you can even read your sermon to me at an appointed hour. I’ll give you one hour a day . . . From four to five in the afternoon, for instance . . . Are you willing? I’ll even pay you a ruble for that hour. (Stretches.) All day long, all day long . . .
PLATONOV (to Voinitsev). Explain to me, please, the meaning of that ad you put in the Intelligencer? Are things really that bad?