you give? Why, this: Whistle all hands on deck for a tack across before the wind. Hee, hee!
Newnin: Yes, yes! Take something to eat.
Revunov-Karayúlov: Just as they all come running out, at once you give the command: “Stand to stations for a tack across before the wind!” Ah! That’s life! You give the order and watch how the sailors, like lightning, run to their places and adjust the lashings and the halliards. You finish by shouting out, “Bravo, my fine fellows.” (Shouts and chokes.)
Master of Ceremonies (hastens to take advantage of the probable pause): On this day, to-day, so to speak, on which we are collected together here to do honour to our beloved——
Revunov-Karayúlov (breaking in): Yes! Yes! And all this has to be remembered. For instance, halliard-royals, tops’l gallants——
Master of Ceremonies (offended): What’s he interrupting for? We can’t say a single word.
Nastasia: We ignorant people, your excellency, do not understand anything of this. But tell us instead something to please——
Revunov-Karayúlov (misunderstanding): I’ve just eaten some, thank you. You said “cheese,” did you not? Thank you. Yes! I was recalling old times. But certainly it’s fine, young man. “If you sail on the sea, you’ll know no care.” (With a trembling voice.) You recollect the delight of tacking in a gale? What seaman does not light up at the recollection of this manœuvre? The very moment the command resounds, “Pipe all hands aloft,” an electric spark seems to fly over everybody. From the commander to the lowest sailor — all tremble with excitement——
Zmewkin: O, how dull! How dull! (General murmur.)
Revunov-Karayúlov (misunderstanding): Thank you, I have had some. (With rapture.) Everyone gets ready and turns his eyes on the first officer. “Stand to the gallants and starboard tops’l braces, and the port main braces, and port counter-braces,” orders the first officer. All is accomplished in a moment; halliard royals and tops’l lashings heaved. All right on board! (Stands up.) Off flies the vessel in the wind and at last the sails begin to get wet. The first officer cries, “The braces, don’t dawdle at the braces,” and fixes his eyes on the maintop, and when at last the tops’l gets wet, at that moment the vessel begins to tack, and you hear the loud command, “Loose the maintop halliards, let go the braces,” then everything flies off with a crack — like the Tower of Babel — and all is accomplished without a fault. You’ve tacked!
Nastasia (bursting out): But, General, you’re being unpleasant! You ought to know better, at your age! You’re unpleasant!
Revunov-Karayúlov: Pheasant? No, I haven’t had any. Thank you.
Nastasia (loudly): I said, you’re being unpleasant! You ought to know better, at your age, General.
Newnin (agitated): Now, come — there, there. Really——
Revunov-Karayúlov: For the first thing, I’m not a general, but a second-grade captain, which corresponds on the list to a lieutenant-colonel——
Nastasia: Then, if you’re not a general, why did you take the money? And we didn’t pay you money for you to be unpleasant.
Revunov-Karayúlov (perplexed): What money?
Nastasia: You know what money! You received through Mr. Newnin twen—— (To Newnin.) But it’s your fault, Andrew. I didn’t ask you to hire such a man.
Newnin: Now, there — let it be! Is it worth while?
Revunov-Karayúlov: Hired — paid — what’s this?
Aplombov: But excuse me. You received the twenty-five roubles from Mr. Newnin?
Revunov-Karayúlov: What twenty-five roubles? (Ponders.) Ah! I see! Now I understand everything. How disgustin! How disgusting!
Aplombov: Then you did receive the money?
Revunov-Karayúlov: I received no money at all! Off with you! (Leaves the table.) How disgusting! How low! To affront an old man, a sailor, an officer of merit! If this were decent society, I’d challenge you to a duel, but now what can I do? (Muddled.) Where’s the door? Which is the way out? Waiter! Show me out! Waiter! How low! How disgusting! (Exit.)
Nastasia: Andrew, where are those twenty-five roubles?
Newnin: Come, is it worth while to speak of such trifles? Everybody else is gay, but you, Heaven knows why — (Shouts.) To the health of the young people! Musicians, play a march! Musicians! (Band begins to play a march.) To the health of the young people!
Zmewkin: I feel stifled! Give me atmosphere! Beside you I feel stifled!
Yat (in an ecstasy): Wonderful woman! Wonderful woman! (The noise gets louder.)
Master of Ceremonies (stands and shouts): Dear ladies and gentlemen! On this day, to-day, so to speak——
(Curtain)
THE JUBILEE [trans. by C. E. Bechhofer Roberts ]
Characters
| Shipuchin Hirin | Tatiana Mrs. Merchutkin |
Managers
The Jubilee
(Scene: The managing director’s study at a bank; furnished with affected sumptuousness. Velvet-covered furniture, flowers, statues, rugs, telephone. Midday. Hirin, the bookkeeper, is alone.)
Hirin (shouts at the door): Go to the chemist’s and get three ha’penny worth of nerve tonic, and tell them to bring some fresh water to the director’s study. I’ve got to tell you a hundred times! (Goes to table.) I’m tired out. I’ve been writing for four days without closing my eyes; from morning to evening I’m writing here, and from evening to morning, at home. (Coughs.) My whole body’s inflamed. Shivering, fever, coughing; I’ve got rheumatism in my legs, things keep coming in front of my eyes. (Sits down.) Our old joker, this brute, this managing director, is going to read the report to-day at the general meeting: “Our bank at the present moment and in time to come” — you’d think he was Gambetta. (Writes.) Two, one, one, six, nought, seven, add six, nought, one, six — He wants to throw dust in their eyes; so I’ve got to sit here and work for him like a nigger. He just puts the poetry into the report; but I must tap away on the counting machine all day long, hell take him. (Taps the machine.) I can’t stand it. (Writes.) One to carry, three, seven, two, one, nought. He promised to pay me for my trouble. If everything goes off well to-day and he takes in the public, he’s promised me a gold pendant and three hundred roubles. We’ll see. (Writes.) Well, and if all my trouble goes for nothing, well, my friend, I’m sorry — I’m a passionate man! Yes, my friend, in a fit of temper I can even commit a crime. Yes! (Off, noise and applause. Shipuchin’s voice, “Thank you! Thank you! I am moved!” Enter Shipuchin, middle-aged, in a frock-coat and white tie, with a monocle. He carries an album which has just been presented to him. All the while he is on the stage, employees bring him papers to sign.)
Shipuchin (standing at the door): This gift of yours, dear colleagues, I shall preserve to my death, as a remembrance of the happiest days of my life! Yes, my dear, dear sirs! Once again I thank you. (Throws them a kiss, and goes up to Hirin.) My dear fellow, my esteemed Hirin!
Hirin (rising): I have the honour to congratulate you, Mr. Shipuchin, on your fifteenth year at the head of the bank and I hope that ——
Shipuchin