LEDENTSOV. Why get up! I would rather die at your feet!!
KRASNUSHKINA. Get up . . . and get out! You’re always in a hurry to die . . .
LEDENTSOV. How can I leave you . . . before I receive a definite answer?
KRASNUSHKINA. You will get a definite answer in half an hour: it can’t be done earlier . . . On the other hand I promise you something (correcting herself), something you least expect! . . .
LEDENTSOV. You promise . . . something? Oh! . . . (Clutches at his heart.)
KRASNUSHKINA. Yes, but on one condition: you tidy yourself up a bit first . . . The way you look now you’d better not appear before me!
LEDENTSOV (looking himself over). What doesn’t look right? What’s untidy about me?
KRASNUSHKINA. Both what’s in your head . . . and on your head! . . . It’s your long hair (tousles his hair). Isn’t this really unsightly? It’s quite out of keeping for a suitor . . . And besides, I can’t stand long hair . . . you understand, I can’t stand it!!.
LEDENTSOV. But excuse me, Yuliya Adamovna, I am a poet, aren’t I? . . . After all, it’s inconceivable: a poet . . . and no long hair! . . .
KRASNUSHKINA. You . . . a poet! Since when?
LEDENTSOV. Since six o’clock this morning! Yesterday when you gave me a violet from your bouquet, I could not sleep all night from bliss, and towards morning I composed verses devoted entirely to you . . . (declaims with strong emotion).
In the twilight of life, so wretched and gritty,
You made me smell sweet with your violet pretty . . .
I came back to life—no longer a vagrant,
I soared in the air amidst odors so fragrant! . . .
I soared!! . . .
KRASNUSHKINA. Merci, the verses are very charming . . . But all the same it shouldn’t keep you from dropping by the barbershop! . . .
LEDENTSOV (depressed). Which means, I’ve got to be . . . shorn!
KRASNUSHKINA. If I say so, that’s what it means . . . What sort of love is it that cannot make even an empty sacrifice! (Hypnotizes him.) Why don’t you have it done? . . .
LEDENTSOV. Does it have to be close-cropped,—I mean, like a hedgehog?
KRASNUSHKINA. Definitely “like a hedgehog” . . . I can’t imagine my husband-to-be as anything but a hedgehog! . . .
LEDENTSOV. In that case . . . I shall have it done!
KRASNUSHKINA. It’s about time. (Hypnotizes him.) Snip-snip . . . and no one will recognize you! . . .
LEDENTSOV (under the hypnotic spell). Snip-snip . . . and no one will recognize me!! (Sends a kiss through the air.) I evacuate! . . . I evaporate! . . . (Exits.)
IV
KRASNUSHKINA (alone).
KRASNUSHKINA. It looks as if I’ve gone rather far with my “summer flirtations”! . . . If Boris doesn’t show up today, I really don’t know how I’m going to get myself out of this . . . Judging by his letter, he was supposed to be back from his cruise last night . . . Boris darling, come back quickly! (Stops pensively by the balcony.) Ah, it’s really my fault that things have turned out this way! Being alone in a cottage is so boring that you’re glad for any chance acquaintance . . . And besides it’s so interesting: to try out the power of my feminine charms on men! . . . Just last winter a gypsy fortune teller predicted that I would cause all sorts of trouble with my eyes . . . Yes, and then she predicted . . . (Laughs.) Well, what nonsense! . . . That I should beware . . . “of meeting a red-headed messenger” . . . Apparently, if I meet a red-headed messenger, all my powers will suddenly disappear . . . And here’s the problem: now I’m afraid of all red-headed messengers!! (She suddenly screams, on seeing a tall messenger with a big red beard coming through the gate. The messenger, despite the summer weather, is wearing a long overcoat with a turned-up collar, with a satchel over his shoulder.)
V
KRASNUSHKINA and MESSENGER (BORIS in disguise).
BORIS (in a feigned hoarse voice). Does Yuliya Adamovna Krasnushkina live here?
KRASNUSHKINA (upset). Krasnushkina . . . that’s me!
BORIS. Here’s a telegram for you, ma’am . . . (Hands her a telegram and jealously looks on.)
KRASNUSHKINA. God forbid there’s been an accident! (With trembling hands she tears open the envelope.) “Arriving today. Your Boris”—(excited). He’s coming! He’s coming! At last . . . Oh, how happy I am!! (Rummages in her purse.) Here’s a half-ruble tip . . . drink to the health of Boris! (The messenger bows low.) Lord, how happy I am! . . . If it weren’t for that red beard, I think I might kiss him in my delight! . . .
BORIS. Well, in that case . . . we can take off the beard! (Pulls off the beard and the cap. Before Krasnushkina stands a young officer in a naval uniform. A cry of joy.)
KRASNUSHKINA. Boris . . . is it you?
BORIS. Why, of course . . . (A prolonged kiss.)
KRASNUSHKINA (helping him out of his overcoat and satchel). Well, what’s the reason for the mystification? Are you trying to test my love? . . . (BORIS cheerfully nods assent.) Naughty boy! How can you doubt my feelings for even a moment!! And, finally, how can you . . . try a woman’s patience so long? Furthermore . . .
BORIS. It hasn’t been so long. We arrived at Cronstadt only this morning . . . and I took a torpedo boat straight to here! I lingered only five minutes to change my clothes . . . From early morning, as the saying goes, not a morsel has passed my lips. And there’s coffee, right on cue! That’s just what I need . . . (Goes to the balcony and pours coffee into the cup, into which the love powder has been sprinkled.)
KRASNUSHKINA (tragically). Boris . . . do not drink! . . .
BORIS. What do you mean: “Do not drink”? That’s very kind of you . . .
KRASNUSHKINA (agitated). What I meant to say was “Do drink!” . . . I’m so excited by your unexpected arrival . . . (to herself.) God knows what he sprinkled in it! However, if it stimulates love . . . let it be!!
BORIS (drinks). The coffee’s delicious, but awfully sweet . . . (Raises the cup.) “I drink to the health of Boris!” (Laughs).
KRASNUSHKINA. And how about the “fifty-kopek piece”? . . .
BORIS. Well, forgive me: we won’t give back the “fifty-kopek piece” for anything! I’ll have it made into a charm for my watch chain and will wear it as the dearest memento . . . (Finishing his coffee.) I don’t know what’s come over me? . . . I have never loved so madly! . . . Oh Yuliya, love is setting my blood on fire!! (Speeds from the balcony and enfolds Krasnushkina in an ardent embrace.) I feel like smothering you today in my embrace!!! . . .