The Collected Works of Anton Chekhov: Plays, Novellas, Short Stories, Diary & Letters. Anton Chekhov

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СКАЧАТЬ I am honest or a rascal, healthy or mad; you wouldn’t understand me. I was young once; I have been eager and sincere and intelligent. I have loved and hated and believed as no one else has. I have worked and hoped and tilted against windmills with the strength of ten — not sparing my strength, not knowing what life was. I shouldered a load that broke my back. I drank, I worked, I excited myself, my energy knew no bounds. Tell me, could I have done otherwise? There are so few of us and so much to do, so much to do! And see how cruelly fate has revenged herself on me, who fought with her so bravely! I am a broken man. I am old at thirty. I have submitted myself to old age. With a heavy head and a sluggish mind, weary, used up, discouraged, without faith or love or an object in life, I wander like a shadow among other men, not knowing why I am alive or what it is that I want. Love seems to me to be folly, caresses false. I see no sense in working or playing, and all passionate speeches seem insipid and tiresome. So I carry my sadness with me wherever I go; a cold weariness, a discontent, a horror of life. Yes, I am lost for ever and ever. Before you stands a man who at thirty-five is disillusioned, wearied by fruitless efforts, burning with shame, and mocking at his own weakness. Oh, how my pride rebels against it all! What mad fury chokes me! [He staggers] I am staggering — my strength is failing me. Where is Matthew? Let him take me home.

      [Voices from the ballroom] The best man has arrived!

      Enter SHABELSKI.

      SHABELSKI. In an old worn-out coat — without gloves! How many scornful glances I get for it! Such silly jokes and vulgar grins! Disgusting people.

      Enter BORKIN quickly. He is carrying a bunch of flowers and is in a dress-coat. He wears a flower in his buttonhole.

      BORKIN. This is dreadful! Where is he? [To IVANOFF] They have been waiting for you for a long time in the church, and here you are talking philosophy! What a funny chap you are. Don’t you know you must not go to church with the bride, but alone, with me? I shall then come back for her. Is it possible you have not understood that? You certainly are an extraordinary man!

      Enter LVOFF.

      LVOFF. [To IVANOFF] Ah! So you are here? [Loudly] Nicholas Ivanoff, I denounce you to the world as a scoundrel!

      IVANOFF. [Coldly] Many thanks!

      BORKIN. [To LVOFF] Sir, this is dastardly! I challenge you to a duel!

      LVOFF. Monsieur Borkin, I count it a disgrace not only to fight with you, but even to talk to you! Monsieur Ivanoff, however, can receive satisfaction from me whenever he chooses!

      SHABELSKI. Sir, I shall fight you!

      SASHA. [To LVOFF] Why, oh why, have you insulted him? Gentlemen, I beg you, let him tell me why he has insulted him.

      LVOFF. Miss Sasha, I have not insulted him without cause. I came here as a man of honour, to open your eyes, and I beg you to listen to what I have to tell you.

      SASHA. What can you possibly have to tell me? That you are a man of honour? The whole world knows it. You had better tell me on your honour whether you understand what you have done or not. You have come in here as a man of honour and have insulted him so terribly that you have nearly killed me. When you used to follow him like a shadow and almost keep him from living, you were convinced that you were doing your duty and that you were acting like a man of honour. When you interfered in his private affairs, maligned him and criticised him; when you sent me and whomever else you could, anonymous letters, you imagined yourself to be an honourable man! And, thinking that that too was honourable, you, a doctor, did not even spare his dying wife or give her a moment’s peace from your suspicions. And no matter what violence, what cruel wrong you committed, you still imagined yourself to be an unusually honourable and clear-sighted man.

      IVANOFF. [Laughing] This is not a wedding, but a parliament! Bravo! Bravo!

      SASHA. [To LVOFF] Now, think it over! Do you see what sort of a man you are, or not? Oh, the stupid, heartless people! [Takes IVANOFF by the hand] Come away from here Nicholas! Come, father, let us go!

      IVANOFF. Where shall we go? Wait a moment. I shall soon put an end to the whole thing. My youth is awake in me again; the former Ivanoff is here once more.

      [He takes out a revolver.]

      SASHA. [Shrieking] I know what he wants to do! Nicholas, for God’s sake!

      IVANOFF. I have been slipping downhill long enough. Now, halt! It is time to know what honour is. Out of the way! Thank you, Sasha!

      SASHA. [Shrieking] Nicholas! For God’s sake hold him!

      IVANOFF. Let go! [He rushes aside, and shoots himself.]

      THE CURTAIN FALLS.

      THE ANNIVERSARY or, THE FESTIVITIES [trans. by Julius West]

       Table of Contents

      CHARACTERS

      ANDREY ANDREYEVITCH SHIPUCHIN, Chairman of the N —— Joint Stock Bank, a middle-aged man, with a monocle

      TATIANA ALEXEYEVNA, his wife, aged 25

      KUSMA NICOLAIEVITCH KHIRIN, the bank’s aged bookkeeper

      NASTASYA FYODOROVNA MERCHUTKINA, an old woman wearing an old-fashioned cloak

      DIRECTORS OF THE BANK

      EMPLOYEES OF THE BANK

      The action takes place at the Bank

      THE ANNIVERSARY

      [The private office of the Chairman of Directors. On the left is a door, leading into the public department. There are two desks. The furniture aims at a deliberately luxurious effect, with armchairs covered in velvet, flowers, statues, carpets, and a telephone. It is midday. KHIRIN is alone; he wears long felt boots, and is shouting through the door.]

      KHIRIN. Send out to the chemist for 15 copecks’ worth of valerian drops, and tell them to bring some drinking water into the Directors’ office! This is the hundredth time I’ve asked! [Goes to a desk] I’m absolutely tired out. This is the fourth day I’ve been working, without a chance of shutting my eyes. From morning to evening I work here, from evening to morning at home. [Coughs] And I’ve got an inflammation all over me. I’m hot and cold, and I cough, and my legs ache, and there’s something dancing before my eyes. [Sits] Our scoundrel of a Chairman, the brute, is going to read a report at a general meeting. “Our Bank, its Present and Future.” You’d think he was a Gambetta…. [At work] Two… one… one… six… nought… seven…. Next, six… nought… one… six…. He just wants to throw dust into people’s eyes, and so I sit here and work for him like a galley-slave! This report of his is poetic fiction and nothing more, and here I’ve got to sit day after day and add figures, devil take his soul! [Rattles on his counting-frame] I can’t stand it! [Writing] That is, one… three… seven… two… one… nought…. He promised to reward me for my work. If everything goes well to-day and the public is properly put into blinkers, he’s promised me a gold charm and 300 roubles bonus…. We’ll see. [Works] Yes, but if my work all goes for nothing, then you’d better look out…. I’m very excitable…. If I lose my temper I’m capable of committing some crime, so look out! Yes!

      [Noise СКАЧАТЬ