but it is better to live down a scandal than to ruin one’s life.
SASHA. Don’t say that, father. Oh, don’t. I refuse to listen! I must crush such gloomy thoughts. He is good and unhappy and misunderstood. I shall love him and learn to understand him. I shall set him on his feet again. I shall do my duty. That is settled.
LEBEDIEFF. This is not your duty, but a delusion —
SASHA. We have said enough. I have confessed things to you that I have not dared to admit even to myself. Don’t speak about this to any one. Let us forget it.
LEBEDIEFF. I am hopelessly puzzled, and either my mind is going from old age or else you have all grown very clever, but I’ll be hanged if I understand this business at all.
Enter SHABELSKI.
SHABELSKI. Confound you all and myself, too! This is maddening!
LEBEDIEFF. What do you want?
SHABELSKI Seriously, I must really do something horrid and rascally, so that not only I but everybody else will be disgusted by it. I certainly shall find something to do, upon my word I shall! I have already told Borkin to announce that I am to be married. [He laughs] Everybody is a scoundrel and I must be one too!
LEBEDIEFF. I am tired of you, Matthew. Look here, man you talk in such a way that, excuse my saying so, you will soon find yourself in a lunatic asylum!
SHABELSKI. Could a lunatic asylum possibly be worse than this house, or any othe r? Kindly take me there at once. Please do! Everybody is wicked and futile and worthless and stupid; I am an object of disgust to myself, I don’t believe a word I say —— -
LEBEDIEFF. Let me give you a piece of advice, old man; fill your mouth full of tow, light it, and blow at everybody. Or, better still, take your hat and go home. This is a wedding, we all want to enjoy ourselves and you are croaking like a raven. Yes, really.
SHABELSKI leans on the piano and begins to sob.
LEBEDIEFF. Good gracious, Matthew, Count! What is it, dear Matthew, old friend? Have I offended you? There, forgive me; I didn’t mean to hurt you. Come, drink some water.
SHABELSKI. I don’t want any water. [Raises his head.]
LEBEDIEFF. What are you crying about?
SHABELSKI. Nothing in particular; I was just crying.
LEBEDIEFF. Matthew, tell me the truth, what is it? What has happened?
SHABELSKI. I caught sight of that violoncello, and — and — I remembered the Jewess.
LEBEDIEFF. What an unfortunate moment you have chosen to remember her. Peace be with her! But don’t think of her now.
SHABELSKI. We used to play duets together. She was a beautiful, a glorious woman.
SASHA sobs.
LEBEDIEFF. What, are you crying too? Stop, Sasha! Dear me, they are both howling now, and I — and I — Do go away; the guests will see you!
SHABELSKI. Paul, when the sun is shining, it is gay even in a cemetery. One can be cheerful even in old age if it is lighted by hope; but I have nothing to hope for — not a thing!
LEBEDIEFF. Yes, it is rather sad for you. You have no children, no money, no occupation. Well, but what is there to be done about it? [To SASHA] What is the matter with you, Sasha?
SHABELSKI. Paul, give me some money. I will repay you in the next world. I would go to Paris and see my wife’s grave. I have given away a great deal of money in my life, half my fortune indeed, and I have a right to ask for some now. Besides, I am asking a friend.
LEBEDIEFF. [Embarrassed] My dear boy, I haven’t a penny. All right though. That is to say, I can’t promise anything, but you understand — very well, very well. [Aside] This is agony!
Enter MARTHA.
MARTHA. Where is my partner? Count, how dare you leave me alone? You are horrid! [She taps SHABELSKI on the arm with her fan]
SHABELSKI. [Impatiently] Leave me alone! I can’t abide you!
MARTHA. [Frightened] How? What?
SHABELSKI. Go away!
MARTHA. [Sinks into an armchair] Oh! Oh! Oh! [She bursts into tears.]
Enter ZINAIDA crying.
ZINAIDA. Some one has just arrived; it must be one of the ushers. It is time for the ceremony to begin.
SASHA. [Imploringly] Mother!
LEBEDIEFF. Well, now you are all bawling. What a quartette! Come, come, don’t let us have any more of this dampness! Matthew! Martha! If you go on like this, I — I — shall cry too. [Bursts into tears] Heavens!
ZINAIDA. If you don’t need your mother any more, if you are determined not to obey her, I shall have to do as you want, and you have my blessing.
Enter IVANOFF, dressed in a long coat, with gloves on.
LEBEDIEFF This is the finishing touch! What do you want?
SHABELSKI. Why are you here?
IVANOFF. I beg your pardon, you must allow me to speak to Sasha alone.
LEBEDIEFF. The bridegroom must not come to see the bride before the wedding. It is time for you to go to the church.
IVANOFF. Paul, I implore you.
LEBEDIEFF shrugs his shoulders. LEBEDIEFF, ZINAIDA, SHABELSKI, and MARTHA go out.
SASHA. [Sternly] What do you want?
IVANOFF. I am choking with anger; I cannot speak calmly. Listen to me; as I was dressing just now for the wedding, I looked in the glass and saw how grey my temples were. Sasha, this must not be! Let us end this senseless comedy before it is too late. You are young and pure; you have all your life before you, but I ——
SASHA. The same old story; I have heard it a thousand times and I am tired of it. Go quickly to the church and don’t keep everybody waiting!
IVANOFF. I shall go straight home, and you must explain to your family somehow that there is to be no wedding. Explain it as you please. It is time we came to our senses. I have been playing the part of Hamlet and you have been playing the part of a noble and devoted girl. We have kept up the farce long enough.
SASHA. [Losing her temper] How can you speak to me like this? I won’t have it.
IVANOFF. But I am speaking, and will continue to speak.
SASHA. What do you mean by coming to me like this? Your melancholy has become absolutely ridiculous!
IVANOFF. No, this is not melancholy. It is ridiculous, is it? Yes, I am laughing, and if it were possible for me to laugh at myself a thousand times more bitterly I should do so and set the whole world laughing, too, in derision. A fierce light has suddenly broken over my soul; as I looked into the glass just now, I laughed at myself, and nearly went mad with shame. [He laughs] Melancholy indeed! Noble grief! Uncontrollable sorrow! It only remains for me now to begin to write verses! Shall I mope and complain, sadden everybody I meet, confess that my manhood has gone forever, that I have decayed, outlived my purpose, that I have given myself up to cowardice and am bound hand and foot by this loathsome melancholy? Shall I confess all this when the sun is shining so brightly and when even the ants are carrying their little burdens in peaceful self-content? No, thanks. Can I endure the knowledge that one will look upon me as a fraud, while another pities me, a third lends me a helping hand, or worst of all, a fourth listens reverently to my sighs, looks upon me as a new Mahomet, and expects me to expound a new religion every moment? No, thank God for the pride and conscience he has left me still. On my way here I laughed at myself, and it seemed to me that the flowers and birds were laughing mockingly too.
SASHA. This is not anger, but madness!
IVANOFF. You think so, do you? No, I am not mad. I see things in their right light now, and my mind is as clear as your conscience. We love each other, but we shall never be married.