Selected plays Read online

  VOYNITSKY. Yes, I suppose it is.

  MARINA comes back carrying a tray on which are a glass of vodka and a piece of bread.

  MARINA. Help yourself.

  ASTROV drinks the vodka.

  MARINA. To your good health, my dear! [She bows deeply] Eat your bread with it.

  ASTROV. No, I like it so. And now, all the best to you! [To MARINA] You needn't come out to see me off, Nanny.

  He goes out. SONYA follows him with a candle to light him to the carriage. MARINA sits down in her armchair.

  VOYNITSKY. [Writing] On the 2d of February, twenty pounds of butter; on the 16th, twenty pounds of butter again. Buckwheat flour -- [A pause. Bells are heard tinkling.]

  MARINA. He's gone. [A pause.]

  SONYA comes in and sets the candle stick on the table.

  SONYA. He has gone.

  VOYNITSKY. [Adding on an abacus and writing] Total, fifteen -- twenty-five --

  SONYA sits down and begins to write.

  MARINA. [Yawning] Oh, ho! The Lord have mercy.

  TELEGIN comes in on tiptoe, sits down near the door, and begins to tune his guitar.

  VOYNITSKY. [To SONYA, stroking her hair] Oh, my child, I'm terribly depressed; if you only knew how miserable I am!

  SONYA. What can we do? We must live our lives. [A pause] Yes, we shall live, Uncle Vanya. We shall live through the long procession of days before us, and through the long evenings; we shall patiently bear the trials that fate imposes on us; we shall work for others without rest, both now and when we are old; and when our last hour comes we shall meet it humbly, and there, beyond the grave, we shall say that we have suffered and wept, that our life was bitter, and God will have pity on us. Ah, then dear, dear Uncle, you and I shall see that bright and beautiful life; we shall rejoice and look back upon our sorrow here; a tender smile -- and -- we shall rest. I have faith, Uncle, fervent, passionate faith. [SONYA kneels down before her uncle and lays her head on his hands. She speaks in a weary voice] We shall rest. [TELEGIN plays softly on the guitar] We shall rest. We shall hear the angels. We shall see heaven all shining with diamonds. We shall see all evil and all our pain sink away in the great compassion that shall enfold the world. Our life will be as peaceful and tender and sweet as a caress. I have faith; I have faith. [She wipes away her tears with a handkerchief] My poor, poor Uncle Vanya, you are crying! [Weeping] You have never known what happiness was, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait! We shall rest. [She embraces him] We shall rest! [The WATCHMAN'S rattle is heard in the garden; TELEGIN plays softly; MME. VOYNITSKAYA writes something on the margin of her pamphlet; MARINA knits her stocking] We shall rest!

  The curtain slowly falls.

  Notes

  Following notes are by James Rusk and A. S. Man, 1998: TITLE

  Vanya is a familiar diminutive of the Russian name Ivan -- the title's English equivalent would be "Uncle Johnny." CHARACTERS

  privy councilor: a high rank in the Russian civil service ACT I

  Nanny, nurse: nyanka, a pet name for a female nurse or nanny

  Sonya's mother: lit. Sonechka, a pet name for Sonya; her mother's name was Vera Petrovna, but modern English adaptations of the play don't need to use the name and patronymic as in Russian.

  typhoid: Fell uses "eruptive typhoid", while some other translators have "typhus" here. They are two different diseases, but both epidemic. It makes no difference to the play which it really was.

  Straining the mind...: From the poem "Other People's Views" (1794) by I. I. Dmitriyev (1760-1837)

  I've come to see your husband. It was very impolite of the family to ignore the doctor's presence for so long, a point not lost on a Russian audience.

  quantum satis: As much as needed (prescription terminology); still used today but more likely abbreviated as "q.s." or replaced by the similar Latin "p.r.n."

  Pardon me, Jean...: "Jean" is the French version of "Ivan." The Russian upper class spoke French among themselves extensively in the early 19th century, but by the time of this play (1896) using French was considered pretentious.

  perpetuum mobile: non-stop

  Ostrovsky's plays: A. N. Ostrovsky (1823-1886) is considered by many to be the greatest Russian dramatist between Gogol and Chekhov

  nursery and seed bed: At the time this play was adapted from the one-act play "The Wood-Demon," Chekhov, a physician, was living in the Crimea and loved nothing so much as spending his time working in his garden, where he planted many fruit trees. However, the note of pomposity and dandyism that Astrov displays here should not be overlooked. ACT II

  Watchman's rattle: Russian estates often had night watchmen. They tapped both to warn possible trespassers and to let their employer know they were awake. Typically, the tapping consisted of two strokes in two seconds, a five second pause, and then the sequence was repeated.

  Nelly: lit., Lenochka, a pet name for Yelena (Helena)

  Batyushkov's works: K. N. Batyushkov (1787-1855), Russian poet

  Turgenev: I. S. Turgenev (1818-1883), famous Russian novelist

  lime-flower tea: a Russian folk remedy

  I can't think or feel: modern audiences, with a modern view of adultery, may consider Helena insincere here and thus disregard what she is saying, but it is more complex than that. Although she is falling in love, she cannot say it openly, since she is married to another. That is not to say that adultery was less common then, but it was not openly approved.

  Barring the way: The doctor's crude persistence might not seem in character to modern audiences, but evidently this is exactly how Russian men behaved. ACT III

  at the Conservatory: Helena must have been a very good musician to study at the world-famous St. Petersburg Conservatory

  forget myself: This is a difficult speech, as Astrov is unconsciously making love to Helena, while Helena's feelings must obviously be in great conflict. At the same time, the whole speech is ironical with its pretensions to art and nature and painting of Russian history.

  an inspector general is coming: Russian audiences would immediately recognize the joking reference to Gogol's satirical play "The Inspector General"

  manet omnes una nox: "Night awaits us all," from Horace, Odes, I, 28, 15

  summer cottage in Finland: a dacha, a vacation home (at the time of the play Finland was part of Russia)

  and not Turks: In the 19th century, Turkish law allowed a husband to retain the dowry even if his wife died

  Schopenhauer or Dostoyevsky: Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) was a German philosopher and F. M. Dostoyevsky (1821-1881) was a great Russian novelist. (A bit of comic irony here, because each was a great pessimist about success in this world.)

  Oh, Nanny, Nanny!: Oh, Nyanechka, Nyanechka, another pet name for a nanny

  Mama! What should I do?: The word translated as Mama is Matushka, an old-fashioned word for mother ACT IV

  brush of Ayvazovsky: I. K. Ayvazovsky (1817-1900) painted stormy seas and naval battles, Chekhov visited his estate in 1888 and described him as an old man married to a young and very beautiful woman

  You're full of beans: lit., "you're a clown full of peas"

  Finita la comedia!: The comedy is over (Italian)

  for your hospitality: lit., "for your bread and salt"

  trace horse: In the Russian troika, or cart with three horses, the two outside horses are called trace horses

  * * *

  The Three Sisters, Anton Chekhov, 1901

  Based on the copy-text Plays by Anton Tchekov, translated from the Russian by Constance Garnett, New York, Macmillan, 1916, also available in early Modern Library editions. Scanned by A. S. Man. Translation revised and notes added 1998 by James Rusk and A. S. Man. Some obsolete spelling and idioms have been changed.

  The action takes place in a provincial town. Act I

  In the house of the PROZOROVS. A drawing-room with columns beyond which a large room is visible. Mid-day; it is bright and sunny. The table in the farther room is being laid for lunch.

  OLGA, in the dark blue
uniform of a high-school teacher, is correcting exercise books, at times standing still and then walking up and down; MASHA, in a black dress, with her hat on her knee, is reading a book; IRINA, in a white dress, is standing plunged in thought.

  OLGA. Father died just a year ago, on this very day -- the fifth of May, your name-day, Irina. It was very cold, snow was falling. I felt as though I should not live through it; you lay fainting as though you were dead. But now a year has passed and we can think of it calmly; you are already in a white dress, your face is radiant. [The clock strikes twelve.] The clock was striking then too [a pause]. I remember the band playing and the firing at the cemetery as they carried the coffin. Though he was a general in command of a brigade, yet there weren't many people there. It was raining, though. Heavy rain and snow.

  IRINA. Why recall it!

  [BARON TUZENBAKH, CHEBUTYKIN and SOLYONY appear near the table in the dining-room, beyond the columns.]

  OLGA. It is warm today, we can have the windows open, but the birches are not in leaf yet. Father was given his brigade and came here with us from Moscow eleven years ago and I remember distinctly that in Moscow at this time, at the beginning of May, everything was already in flower; it was warm, and everything was bathed in sunshine. It's eleven years ago, and yet I remember it all as though we had left it yesterday. Oh, dear! I woke up this morning, I saw a blaze of sunshine. I saw the spring, and joy stirred in my heart. I had a passionate longing to be back at home again!

  CHEBUTYKIN. The devil it is!

  TUZENBAKH. Of course, it's nonsense.

  [MASHA, brooding over a book, softly whistles a song.]

  OLGA. Don't whistle, Masha. How can you! [a pause] Being all day in school and then at my lessons till the evening gives me a perpetual headache and thoughts as gloomy as though I were old. And really these four years that I have been at the high-school I have felt my strength and my youth oozing away from me every day. And only one yearning grows stronger and stronger. . . .

  IRINA. To go back to Moscow. To sell the house, to make an end of everything here, and off to Moscow. . . .

  OLGA. Yes! To Moscow, and quickly.

  [CHEBUTYKIN and TUZENBAKH laugh.]

  IRINA. Andrey will probably be a professor, he will not live here anyhow. The only difficulty is poor Masha.

  OLGA. Masha will come and spend the whole summer in Moscow every year.

  [MASHA softly whistles a tune.]

  IRINA. Please God it will all be managed. [Looking out of window] How fine it is today. I don't know why I feel so light-hearted! I remembered this morning that it was my name-day and at once I felt joyful and thought of my childhood when mother was living. And I was thrilled by such wonderful thoughts, such thoughts!

  OLGA. You are radiant today and looking lovelier than usual. And Masha is lovely too. Andrey would be nice-looking, but he has grown too fat and that does not suit him. And I've grown older and ever so much thinner. I suppose it's because I get so cross with the girls at school. Today now I am free, I'm at home, and my head doesn't ache, and I feel younger than yesterday. I'm only twenty-eight. . . . It's all quite right, it's all from God, but it seems to me that if I were married and sitting at home all day, it would be better [a pause]. I would love my husband.

  TUZENBAKH [to SOLYONY]. You talk such nonsense, I'm tired of listening to you. [Coming into the drawing-room] I forgot to tell you, you will receive a visit today from Vershinin, the new commander of our battery [sits down to the piano].

  OLGA. Well, I'll be delighted.

  IRINA. Is he old?

  TUZENBAKH. No, not particularly. . . . Forty or forty-five at the most [softly plays the piano]. He seems to be a nice fellow. He's not stupid, that's certain. Only he talks a lot.

  IRINA. Is he interesting?

  TUZENBAKH. Yes, he's all right, only he has a wife, a mother-in-law and two little girls. And it's his second wife too. He is paying calls and telling everyone that he has a wife and two little girls. He'll tell you so too. His wife seems a bit crazy, with her hair in a long braid like a girl's, always talks in a high-flown style, makes philosophical reflections and frequently attempts to commit suicide, evidently to annoy her husband. I should have left a woman like that years ago, but he puts up with her and merely complains.

  SOLYONY [coming into the drawing-room with CHEBUTYKIN]. With one hand I can only lift up half a hundredweight, but with both hands I can lift up two or even two-and-a-half hundredweight. From that I conclude that two men are not only twice but three times as strong as one man, or even more. . . .

  CHEBUTYKIN [reading the newspaper as he comes in]. For hair falling out. . . two ounces of naphthaline in half a bottle of alcohol. ., to be dissolved and used daily. . . [puts it down in his note-book]. Let's make a note of it! No, I don't want it. . . [scratches it out]. It doesn't matter.

  IRINA. Ivan Romanitch, dear Ivan Romanitch!

  CHEBUTYKIN. What is it, my child, my joy?

  IRINA. Tell me, why is it I am so happy today? As though I were sailing with the great blue sky above me and big white birds flying over it. Why is it? Why?

  CHEBUTYKIN [kissing both her hands, tenderly]. My white bird. . . .

  IRINA. When I woke up this morning, got up and washed, it suddenly seemed to me as though everything in the world was clear to me and that I knew how one ought to live. Dear Ivan Romanitch, I know all about it. A man ought to work, to toil in the sweat of his brow, whoever he may be, and all the purpose and meaning of his life, his happiness, his ecstasies lie in that alone. How delightful to be a workman who gets up before dawn and breaks stones on the road, or a shepherd, or a schoolmaster teaching children, or an engine-driver. . . . Oh, dear! to say nothing of human beings, it would be better to be an ox, better to be a humble horse as long as you can work, than a young woman who wakes at twelve o'clock, then has coffee in bed, then spends two hours dressing. . . . Oh, how awful that is! Just as one has a craving for water in hot weather I have a craving for work. And if I don't get up early and work, give me up as a friend, Ivan Romanitch.

  CHEBUTYKIN [tenderly]. I'll give you up, I'll give you up. . . .

  OLGA. Father trained us to get up at seven o'clock. Now Irina wakes at seven and lies in bed at least till nine thinking about things. And she looks so serious! [Laughs]

  IRINA. You are used to thinking of me as a child and are surprised when I look serious. I'm twenty!

  TUZENBAKH. The yearning for work, oh dear, how well I understand it! I've never worked in my life. I was born in cold, idle Petersburg, in a family that had known nothing of work or cares of any kind. I remember, when I came home from the military school, a valet used to pull off my boots. I used to be troublesome, but my mother looked at me with reverential awe, and was surprised when other people didn't do the same. I was shielded from work. But I doubt if they have succeeded in shielding me completely, I doubt it! The time is at hand, an avalanche is moving down upon us, a mighty clearing storm which is coming, is already near and will soon blow the laziness, the indifference, the distaste for work, the rotten boredom out of our society. I'll work, and in another twenty-five or thirty years every one will have to work. Every one!

  CHEBUTYKIN. I'm not going to work.

  TUZENBAKH. You don't count.

  SOLYONY. In another twenty-five years you won't be here, thank God. In two or three years you will kick the bucket, or I shall lose my temper and put a bullet through your head, my angel. [Pulls a scent-bottle out of his pocket and sprinkles his chest and hands.]

  CHEBUTYKIN [laughs]. And I really have never done anything at all. I haven't done a stroke of work since I left the University, I have never read a book, I read nothing but newspapers . . . [takes another newspaper out of his pocket]. Here. . . I know, for instance, from the newspapers that there was such a person as Dobrolyubov, but what he wrote, I can't say. . . . Goodness only knows. . . . [A knock is heard on the floor from the floor below.] There. . . they are calling me downstairs, someone has come for me. I'll be back directly. .
. . Wait a minute. . . [goes out hurriedly, combing his beard].

  IRINA. He's got something up his sleeve.

  TUZENBAKH. Yes, he went out with a solemn face, evidently he's just going to bring you a present.

  IRINA. What a nuisance!

  OLGA. Yes, it's awful. He's always doing something silly.

  MASHA. By the sea-strand an oak-tree green. ., upon that oak a chain of gold. . . upon that oak a chain of gold. . . [gets up, humming softly].

  OLGA. You are not very cheerful today, Masha.

  [MASHA, humming, puts on her hat.]

  OLGA. Where are you going?

  MASHA. Home.

  IRINA. That's odd! . . .

  TUZENBAKH. To walk out on a name-day party!

  MASHA. Never mind. . . . I'll come in the evening. Good-bye, my darling. . . [kisses IRINA]. Once again I wish you, be well and happy. In old days, when Father was alive, we always had thirty or forty officers here on name-days; it was noisy, but today there's only a man and a half, and it's as still as the desert. . . . I'll go. . . . I've got the blues today, I'm feeling glum, so don't you mind what I say [laughing through her tears]. We'll talk some other time, and so for now good-bye, darling, I'm going. . . .

  IRINA [discontentedly]. Oh, how tiresome you are. . . .

  OLGA [with tears]. I understand you, Masha.

  SOLYONY. If a man philosophises, there will be philosophy or sophistry, anyway, but if a woman philosophises, or two do it, then it will be so much twiddle-twaddle!

  MASHA. What do you mean to say by that, you terrible person?

  SOLYONY. Nothing. He had not time to say "alack," before the bear was on his back [a pause].

  MASHA [to OLGA, angrily]. Don't blubber!

  [Enter ANFISA and FERAPONT carrying a cake.]

  ANFISA. This way, my good man. Come in, your boots are clean. [To IRINA] From the District Council, from Mihail Ivanitch Protopopov. . . . A cake.

  IRINA. Thanks. Thank him [takes the cake].