Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (462 page)

Fonk: Yes, I play, but now, I think dinner is nearly ready. Moreover, I am in such pleasant company — [Points to Masha; Vilitski bites his lips slightly.]

Moshkin: Surely, not now. We will have dinner now. I merely asked. If you like, we’ll play a little after dinner.

Fonk: With pleasure. [To Masha.] I think you must be quite indifferent to card - playing?

Masha: Yes, I am. I don’t play cards.

Fonk: That’s understood. At your age, other thoughts occupy your mind. Does your esteemed aunt play?

Masha [turning slightly in Priazhkina’s direction]: She plays.

Fonk [to Priazhkina]: Preference?

Priazhkina: Hearts.

Fonk: I don’t know that game. Ladies have a perfect right to complain about cards
           

Masha [naively]: Why?

Fonk: Why? Your question surprises me.

Vilitski: Really, Maria Vasilevna
       

[Masha gets more confused.]

Stratilat [coming in from the vestibule; loudly]: Eating is done!

Moshkin: Thank God! [All get up.] Please, come and help yourselves, to whatever the Lord has given us. Masha, give your hand to Rodion Karlych. Petrusha, you take Ekaterina Savishna’s hand.

Shpundik: And we, my boy, will go together. [Takes him by the arm.] So, like this.

[All go into the vestibule. Moshkin and Shpundik in the rear.]

Moshkin: Soon we will march this way to the wedding, Filipp. Why do you look so dejected?

Shpundik [urith a sigh]: Nothing, my boy, I feel better now. Only, I see that here, in St. Petersburg, things are different from what they are at home. I am puzzled . . .

Moshkin: Ah, my boy, that’s all nonsense. Wait, you’ll see. We’ll open a bottle of champagne and drink to the health of the betrothed. That’ll be better. Come on, my friends. [All go out.]

CURTAIN

ACT TWO

Scene
: A poorly furnished room of a young bachelor. A door in the background; another on the right. A table, sofa, and several chairs. A few books on some shelves; pipes lying around on the bureau. Vilitski sits on a chair, dressed. Holds an open book in his lap.

Vilitski [after a moment’s silence]: Mitka!

Mitka [coming in from the vestibule]: Yes, sir?

Vilitski [having looked at him]: A pipe. [Mitka goes to the bureau, and fills a pipe with tobacco and gives it to him.] Didn’t anyone bring a note from Rodion Karlych to - day?

Mitka: No, sir. [Gives him a match.]

Vilitski [lighting the pipe]: Mikhail Ivanych may come in to - day. So tell him again that I am not at home. Do you hear me?

Mitka: I do. [Goes out.]

Vilitski [after having puffed at his pipe, gets up]: This must end somehow! It is unbearable; it’s positively unbearable. [Walks around the room.] My behavior, I know, was unpardonably harsh. It is five days since I have been to see them — Since that cursed dinner. But what can I do? Oh, Lord! I can’t dissemble. However, it must come to some end. I can’t go on hiding myself; sit around for days in other people’s houses; and stay overnight again somewhere else. I must decide upon something. What will they think about me in the office? It is an unpardonable weakness; it is childishness. [After a moment’s silence] Mitka!

Mitka [coming in from the vestibule]: Yes, sir?

Vilitski: Did you tell me that Mikhail was here last evening?

Mitka [throinng his hands behind his back]: Yes, sir, he has been here daily, since Sunday. Vilitski: Hm, hm!

Mitka: Sunday, he was very uneasy. He was worried about your health, and he asked why you hadn’t been to see them yesterday.

Vilitski: Yes, yes, you told me that. What did you say to him? That I
         

Mitka: I told him that you were out of town; that you had gone away on business, so to say.

Vilitski: And what did he say?

Mitka: He was surprised. He didn’t know that you had business, nor why you went away so suddenly, without saying a word to them. Then he said that he had asked about you in the office and nobody there knew anything about it, so he concluded that it wasn’t on official business. He was very uneasy about it. He even asked whether you had hired a vehicle from the stand or the post - chaise; and whether you had taken enough underclothing, etc. He was very uneasy.

Vilitski: What did you tell him?

Mitka: I told him what you told me to tell him. “I don’t know where the boss has gone; only he went with friends, — that means, that he has gone out of town for a good time, and they expect his return ‘most any hour.” He thought for a while, then he went away. And since then he has come every day to find out what he can. Day before yesterday, he was even here twice. Yesterday, he waited for an hour and a half in your room. He was waiting for you. Then he left a note.

Vilitski: Yes, I have read that. Now listen. If Mikhail Ivanych should come to - day, tell him that I returned and went away again, but that I will be in to see him to - day, positively. Do you hear me? Positively. Go, and get my uniform ready.

Mitka [going away smilingly]: He even asked of the janitor; he asked him if he didn’t know where Petr Ilich had gone to.

Vilitski: What did the janitor say?

Mitka: The janitor said that he didn’t know, only that he thought that you were not at home, that’s all.

Vilitski [after a moment’s silence]: Well, go. [Mitka goes out. Vilitski commences to pace the room.] How childish! And what a foolish thought, to hide myself, as though it were possible to hide myself forever. Now, I’ll have to lie about it and invent stories. It will be hard to fool the old man. Everything will come out. It’s pretty bad, pretty bad. [Stops a moment.] And what on earth has possessed me? Why do I feel a chill all over me? As soon as I think that I am going to go there? I am going to get married in a few days! And everything about that is settled; I have given my word. Moreover, I have nothing against it. [Shrugs his shoulders.] It is surprising, I confess. I never foresaw a situation like this. [Sits down again.] That dinner! That dinner! I shall never forget that dinner as long as I live. And what ailed Masha? She isn’t a foolish girl; of course, she isn’t a foolish girl. But she couldn’t say a single word; positively, not a single word. Fonk tried this way and that way and another way and every which way, but she sat there as if she were mummified. “Yes, I am very glad ...” I blushed for her all the while. I can’t look Fonk straight in the face now, so help me God! It seems to me as if he is laughing at me all the time; and he has good reason for it. Surely, being a polite man, he wouldn’t express his full opinion of the matter. [Short pause.] She is timid, bashful; she has never seen enough of the world. Surely, she has had no one from whom to learn the necessary manners; she couldn’t have learned them from Mikhail Ivanych. But she is so kind; she loves me so much. . . . Yes, and I love her. [Warmly.] Did I ever say that I didn’t love her? Only that . . . [Another short pause.] I quite agree with Fonk: education is a very important thing, a very important thing. Yes, I’ll go there to - day. [Throws down the book.] Oh, how bad things are! [Mitka enters.] What do you want?

Mitka [giving him a letter]: A letter, sir.

Vilitski [looking at the hand - writing]: Oh, all right. Go. [Mitka goes out. Vilitski opens the letter quickly.] From Masha. [Reads to himself, and then, having finished, puts his hands on his knees.] What exaggeration! To what purpose? [Gets up and reads aloud.] “You don’t love me any more! That’s clear to me now.” How many times has that been written? “Don’t feel yourself bound; we are both still free. I have noticed in you for some time, a gradual cooling off towards me.” That’s not true! “Although externally, you haven’t changed any . . . but now, I think it has become harder for you to pretend. And what for? It was said that you had gone out of town. Is that true? It is apparent that you are afraid to meet me. At any rate, I would like to have an understanding with you. Your devoted . . .” and so on, and so on. “When you have returned, you will find this letter. Come to see us, not for my sake, but for the sake of the old man, who is losing his mind, on account of it. If I am making a mistake, and if I am vexing you with my letter, pardon me. But your last visit . . . Good - bye.” [Somewhat agitated.] Why all this? What for? How shameful it is — everlasting misunderstandings. This is a great prospect for the future! Well, I must admit, that I am wrong. I haven’t been there for five successive days. But why draw such dark conclusions from it, in such a solemn tone? [Looks at the letter again and shakes his head.] There is more selfishness in it than love. Eeal love doesn’t express itself that way. [Short silence.] However, I must go to see them to - day. I am guilty before her. [Paces the room again.] I will go to see them right now, before I go to the office. It’s on the way, anyway. Yes, yes, I am positively going. [Stops.] Yes. It will be rather awkward to begin with . . . but, there is nothing else to be done about it.

noise is heard in the vestibule. He listens to it, and puts the letter in his pocket. Mitka enters.]

Mitka: Mr. Fonk has come. He wants to see you. He has another man with him.

Vilitski [after a short silence]: Ask them in.

[Mitka goes out. Fonk and Sozomenos enter. Vilit - ski goes to meet them.]

Vilitski: How glad I am
         

Fonk [pressing his hand]: Petr Ilich! Permit me to make you acquainted with one of my friends — [Vilitski and Sozomenos bow to one another.] Perhaps you have heard of the name, — Mr. Sozomenos?

Vilitski: I have, I have.

Fonk: I am quite sure that you will like each other.

Vilitski: I don’t doubt

Fonk: He busies himself with literature, and is meeting with great success.

Vilitski [respectfully]: Aha!

Fonk: He hasn’t had anything published yet, but he showed me a story a couple of days ago — a most beautiful composition! Especially the style; it is excellent.

Vilitski [to Sozomenos]: May I know the title?

Sozomenos [abruptly]: “The Nobility of the Judges of the Shores of the Volga.”

Vilitski: Ah!

Fonk: There’s a lot of feeling and sympathy. . . . There are even very exalted places.

Vilitski: I should feel highly flattered, if Mr. Sozomenos would see fit to read the story to me.

Fonk: Oh, I think he would be very glad to do it. [Looking at Sozomenos.] Authors seldom refuse to do that. [Ee laughs.]

[Sozomenos replies with coarse lawghter.]

Vilitski: Sit down, gentlemen. Would you like to have some pipes? [Ee hands them pipes and tobacco.]

[Fonk refuses. Sozomenos sits down, slowly fills the pipe, and looks around.]

Fonk [to Vilitski, while Sozomenos is filling his pipe]: Just think, how strange! Up to now, Mr. Sozomenos didn’t even suspect that he had literary inclinations. And, as you see, he has passed his first youth. How old are you, Alkiviad Martynych?

Sozomenos: Thirty - five. May I have a light?

Vilitski [handing him the matches from the table]: Here it is.

Fonk [to Vilitski]: Moreover, he’s not a Russian. However, it must be said, he left his native country very young, and has done a number of things here. Mostly, he has passed his time in the provinces. He came to St. Petersburg intending to learn the soap - making trade. And suddenly, he began to write. That’s a talent! [Vilitski looks at Sozomenos.] I confess that I am not a great admirer of contemporary literature. Nowadays, they write so peculiarly! Moreover, although I consider myself a Russian and acknowledge the Russian language as my mother tongue, so to say, still, like Alkiviad Martynych, I am not a Russian by birth, and therefore, I haven’t, so to say, the voice
       

Vilitski: Oh, nonsense! On the contrary, you speak most excellent Russian. I always admire the clearness and the beauty of your style. Why
     

Fonk [smiling modestly]: That may be, that may be.

Sozomenos: He is a scholar.

Fonk: Well, not quite that. What did I want to say? Oh, yes, — I am not a great lover of contemporary literature. [Sits down. Vilitski aJso.] But I love the good Russian style; the expressive style. That’s why I was so pleased with Sozomenos’ story. I didn’t lose the opportunity of expressing to him my innate satisfaction. However, I do not advise him to publish it, because, I am sorry to say, the contemporary critics have very poor taste.

Sozomenos [having removed the pipe from his mouth, and lowered his head]: None of these critics know anything.

Vilitski: Yes, they write a lot of wiseacre stuff.

Sozomenos: They simply know nothing.

Vilitski [to Fonk]: All you have told me about Mr. Sozomenos, has greatly excited my curiosity, and I should like to become familiar with his writings.