The Greatest Dramatic Works of Anton Chekhov: 12 Plays in One Edition. Антон Чехов

I never gave you kingdom, call’d you children.”

      Ah! there is strength, there is talent for you! I’m a great artist! Now, then, here’s something else of the same kind, to bring back my youth to me. For instance, take this, from Hamlet, I’ll begin … Let me see, how does it go? Oh, yes, this is it. [Takes the part of Hamlet]

      “O! the recorders, let me see one. — To withdraw with you. Why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me into a toil?”

      IVANITCH. “O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.”

      SVIETLOVIDOFF. “I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?”

      IVANITCH. “My lord, I cannot.”

      SVIETLOVIDOFF. “I pray you.”

      IVANITCH. “Believe me, I cannot.”

      SVIETLOVIDOFF. “I do beseech you.”

      IVANITCH. “I know no touch of it, my lord.”

      SVIETLOVIDOFF. “’Tis as easy as lying: govern these vantages with your finger and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.”

      IVANITCH. “But these I cannot command to any utterance of harmony: I have not the skill.”

      SVIETLOVIDOFF. “Why, look you, how unworthy a thing you make of me. You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. S’blood! Do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me!” [laughs and clasps] Bravo! Encore! Bravo! Where the devil is there any old age in that? I’m not old, that is all nonsense, a torrent of strength rushes over me; this is life, freshness, youth! Old age and genius can’t exist together. You seem to be struck dumb, Nikitushka. Wait a second, let me come to my senses again. Oh! Good Lord! Now then, listen! Did you ever hear such tenderness, such music? Sh! Softly;

      “The moon had set. There was not any light,

       Save of the lonely legion’d watch-stars pale

       In outer air, and what by fits made bright

       Hot oleanders in a rosy vale

       Searched by the lamping fly, whose little spark

       Went in and out, like passion’s bashful hope.”

      [The noise of opening doors is heard] What’s that?

      IVANITCH. There are Petrushka and Yegorka coming back. Yes, you have genius, genius, my master.

      SVIETLOVIDOFF. [Calls, turning toward the noise] Come here to me, boys! [To IVANITCH] Let us go and get dressed. I’m not old! All that is foolishness, nonsense! [laughs gaily] What are you crying for? You poor old granny, you, what’s the matter now? This won’t do! There, there, this won’t do at all! Come, come, old man, don’t stare so! What makes you stare like that? There, there! [Embraces him in tears] Don’t cry! Where there is art and genius there can never be such things as old age or loneliness or sickness … and death itself is half … [Weeps] No, no, Nikitushka! It is all over for us now! What sort of a genius am I? I’m like a squeezed lemon, a cracked bottle, and you — you are the old rat of the theatre … a prompter! Come on! [They go] I’m no genius, I’m only fit to be in the suite of Fortinbras, and even for that I am too old…. Yes…. Do you remember those lines from Othello, Nikitushka?

      “Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content!

       Farewell the plumed troops and the big wars

       That make ambition virtue! O farewell!

       Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,

       The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,

       The royal banner, and all quality,

       Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war!”

      IVANITCH. Oh! You’re a genius, a genius!

      SVIETLOVIDOFF. And again this:

      “Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,

       Rapid clouds have drunk the last pale beam of even:

       Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,

       And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.”

       They go out together, the curtain falls slowly.

IVANOFF

       Table of Contents

       CHARACTERS

       ACT I

       ACT II

       ACT III

       ACT IV

      CHARACTERS

       Table of Contents

      NICHOLAS IVANOFF, perpetual member of the Council of Peasant Affairs

      ANNA, his wife. Nee Sarah Abramson

      MATTHEW SHABELSKI, a count, uncle of Ivanoff

      PAUL LEBEDIEFF, President of the Board of the Zemstvo

      ZINAIDA, his wife

      SASHA, their daughter, twenty years old

      LVOFF, a young government doctor

      MARTHA BABAKINA, a young widow, owner of an estate and daughter of a rich merchant

      KOSICH, an exciseman

      MICHAEL BORKIN, a distant relative of Ivanoff, and manager of his estate

      AVDOTIA NAZAROVNA, an old woman

      GEORGE, lives with the Lebedieffs

      FIRST GUEST

      SECOND GUEST

      THIRD GUEST

      FOURTH GUEST

      PETER, a servant of Ivanoff

      GABRIEL, a servant of Lebedieff

      GUESTS OF BOTH SEXES

      The play takes place in one of the provinces of central Russia

      ACT I

       Table of Contents

      The garden of IVANOFF’S country place. On the left is a terrace and the facade of the house. One window is open. Below the terrace is a broad semicircular lawn, from which paths lead to right and left into a garden. On the right are several garden benches and tables. A lamp is burning on one of the tables. It is evening. As the curtain rises sounds of the piano and violoncello are heard.

      IVANOFF is sitting at a table reading.

      BORKIN, in top-boots and carrying a gun, comes in from the rear of the garden. He is a little tipsy. As he sees IVANOFF he comes toward him on tiptoe, and when he comes opposite him he stops and points the gun at his face.

      IVANOFF.