The Three Sisters / Три сестры. Антон Чехов

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СКАЧАТЬ r i n a. You’re so used to seeing me as a little girl that it seems queer to you when my face is serious. I’m twenty!

      T u z e n b a c h. How well I can understand that craving for work, oh God! I’ve never worked once in my life. I was born in Petersburg, a chilly, lazy place, in a family which never knew what work or worry meant. I remember that when I used to come home from my regiment, a footman used to have to pull off my boots while I fidgeted and my mother looked on in adoration and wondered why other people didn’t see me in the same light. They shielded me from work; but only just in time! A new age is dawning, the people are marching on us all, a powerful, health-giving storm is gathering, it is drawing near, soon it will be upon us and it will drive away laziness, indifference, the prejudice against labour, and rotten dullness from our society. I shall work, and in twenty-five or thirty years, every man will have to work. Every one!

      C h e b u t i k i n. I shan’t work.

      T u z e n b a c h. You don’t matter.

      S o l e n i. In twenty-five years’ time, we shall all be dead, thank the Lord. In two or three years’ time apoplexy will carry you off, or else I’ll blow your brains out, my pet. [Takes a scent-bottle out of his pocket and sprinkles his chest and hands.]

      C h e b u t i k i n. [Laughs] It’s quite true, I never have worked. After I came down from the university I never stirred a finger or opened a book, I just read the papers. … [Takes another newspaper out of his pocket] Here we are. … I’ve learnt from the papers that there used to be one, Dobrolubov, for instance, but what he wrote – I don’t know … God only knows. … [Somebody is heard tapping on the floor from below] There. … They’re calling me downstairs, somebody’s come to see me. I’ll be back in a minute … won’t be long. … [Exit hurriedly, scratching his beard.]

      I r i n a. He’s up to something.

      T u z e n b a c h. Yes, he looked so pleased as he went out that I’m pretty certain he’ll bring you a present in a moment.

      I r i n a. How unpleasant!

      O l g a. Yes, it’s awful. He’s always doing silly things.

      M a s h a.

      “There stands a green oak by the sea.

      And a chain of bright gold is around it …

      And a chain of bright gold is around it. …”

[Gets up and sings softly.]

      O l g a. You’re not very bright today, Masha. [Masha sings, putting on her hat] Where are you off to?

      M a s h a. Home.

      I r i n a. That’s odd. …

      T u z e n b a c h. On a name-day, too!

      M a s h a. It doesn’t matter. I’ll come in the evening. Good-bye, dear. [Kisses Masha] Many happy returns, though I’ve said it before. In the old days when father was alive, every time we had a name-day, thirty or forty officers used to come, and there was lots of noise and fun, and today there’s only a man and a half, and it’s as quiet as a desert … I’m off … I’ve got the hump today, and am not at all cheerful, so don’t you mind me. [Laughs through her tears] We’ll have a talk later on, but good-bye for the present, my dear; I’ll go somewhere.

      I r i n a. [Displeased] You are queer. …

      O l g a. [Crying] I understand you, Masha.

      S o l e n i. When a man talks philosophy, well, it is philosophy or at any rate sophistry; but when a woman, or two women, talk philosophy – it’s all my eye.

      M a s h a. What do you mean by that, you very awful man?

      S o l e n i. Oh, nothing. You came down on me before I could say … help! [Pause.]

      M a s h a. [Angrily, to Olga] Don’t cry!

[Enter Anfisa and Ferapont with a cake.]

      A n f i s a. This way, my dear. Come in, your feet are clean. [To Irina] From the District Council, from Mihail Ivanitch Protopopov … a cake.

      I r i n a. Thank you. Please thank him. [Takes the cake.]

      F e r a p o n t. What?

      I r i n a. [Louder] Please thank him.

      O l g a. Give him a pie, nurse. Ferapont, go, she’ll give you a pie.

      F e r a p o n t. What?

      A n f i s a. Come on, gran’fer, Ferapont Spiridonitch. Come on. [Exeunt.]

      M a s h a. I don’t like this Mihail Potapitch or Ivanitch, Protopopov. We oughtn’t to invite him here.

      I r i n a. I never asked him.

      M a s h a. That’s all right.

[Enter Chebutikin followed by a soldier with a silver samovar; there is a rumble of dissatisfied surprise.]

      O l g a. [Covers her face with her hands] A samovar! That’s awful! [Exit into the dining-room, to the table.]

      I r i n a. My dear Ivan Romanovitch, what are you doing!

      T u z e n b a c h. [Laughs] I told you so!

      M a s h a. Ivan Romanovitch, you are simply shameless!

      C h e b u t i k i n. My dear good girl, you are the only thing, and the dearest thing I have in the world. I’ll soon be sixty. I’m an old man, a lonely worthless old man. The only good thing in me is my love for you, and if it hadn’t been for that, I would have been dead long ago. … [To Irina] My dear little girl, I’ve known you since the day of your birth, I’ve carried you in my arms … I loved your dead mother. …

      M a s h a. But your presents are so expensive!

      C h e b u t i k i n. [Angrily, through his tears] Expensive presents. … You really, are! … [To the orderly] Take the samovar in there. … [Teasing] Expensive presents!

      [The orderly goes into the dining-room with the samovar.]

      A n f i s a. [Enters and crosses stage] My dear, there’s a strange Colonel come! He’s taken off his coat already. Children, he’s coming here. Irina darling, you’ll be a nice and polite little girl, won’t you. … Should have lunched a long time ago. … Oh, Lord. … [Exit.]

      T u z e n b a c h. It must be Vershinin. [Enter Vershinin] Lieutenant-Colonel Vershinin!

      V e r s h i n i n. [To Masha and Irina] I have the honour to introduce myself, my name is Vershinin. I am very glad indeed to be able to come at last. How you’ve grown! Oh! oh!

      I r i n a. Please sit down. We’re very glad you’ve come.

      V e r s h i n i n. [Gaily] I am glad, very glad! But there are three sisters, surely. I remember – three little girls. I forget your faces, but your father, Colonel Prosorov, used to have three little girls, I remember that perfectly, I saw them with my own eyes. How time does fly! Oh, dear, how it flies!

      T u z e n b a c h. Alexander Ignateyevitch comes from Moscow.

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