man with that look looks like a cretin, but women have a way of making it seem kind and warm, instead of moronic. Why do you girls always turn aside healthy, cheerful men and as soon as they start going downhill you’re all over them. Is it really better to be a sick-nurse to a bleating failure than to be married to some fit, strong fellow . . .?
Sasha Yes, much better.
Ivanov Why?
Sasha There’s a lot that men don’t understand. Every girl is drawn to a man who needs her, because what we’re looking for is love that gives us something to do. Not passive love. Do you see? Active love. Men put their work first, love has to take second place – a chat, a walk in the garden, some pleasant times, a few tears on her grave, and that’s about it. But for us, love is the reason for living. Loving you means dreaming of curing you of your unhappiness, of following you to the ends of the earth. Where you go, there I’ll go – to the mountaintopor into the abyss. I’d love more than anything to spend all night doing your paperwork for you, or to walk by your side for miles and miles. Once, about three years ago, at harvest time, you showed up all covered in dust and sunburnt, you were exhausted, and you asked for a drink of water. I brought you a glass, but you were stretched out on the sofa, dead to the world. You slept the whole day, and I stood by the door keeping watch so that no one came in. I felt so happy. The more you do for love, the more love you feel.
Ivanov Active love . . . huh! . . . Is it a mutation? – a schoolgirl’s daydream? – or is it love as love ought to be? ( Shrugs his shoulders. )Who knows? ( Cheerfully. )Sasha, God’s truth, as a man I’m as decent as the next. I know I sound off on all kinds of things but never in my life have I said, ‘Our women have got something wrong with them, ‘ or, ‘That woman there is going to come to no good.’ Heavens, all I feel is gratitude for them. You’re a dear, good girl, and you cheer me up, too. ( Walks quickly off to one side. )You’ve got to go, Sasha! We’re forgetting ourselves.
Sasha Yes, it’s time to go. I’m afraid that honest doctor of yours might think it’s his duty to tell Anna Petrovna I’m here. Listen – go to your wife – now, this minute – and sit by her and keep sitting by her – for a year if you have to – or ten years. Be sad with her, beg her forgiveness, cry with her. Do your duty. And – most important – don’t neglect your work!
Ivanov Not for the first time, I feel I’ve eaten the wrong kind of mushroom.
Sasha Well, God bless you, Nikolay! Put me out of your head. Write me a line in a couple of weeks – I’d be grateful. I’ll write to you, too . . .
Borkin looks in through the door.
Borkin Nikolay, may I? ( Seeing Sasha. )Oh, excuse me – ( Comes in. ) Bon jour! ( Bows. )
Sasha ( embarrassed )Hello.
Borkin You’ve put on weight, pretty one, it suits you.
Sasha ( to Ivanov )Well, I’ll be going now, Nikolay Alekseevich . . . I’m off.
Sasha leaves.
Borkin She’s a vision! I came on a prosaic matter of business and found poetry. ( Sings. )’You appeared like a bird towards the light . . .’
Ivanov walks up and down the stage agitatedly. Borkin sits down.
She’s got something about her the others haven’t got – don’t you think so, Nicolas? Something special, something not of this world . . . ( Sighs. )As it happens, she’s the richest match in the district, but her mama is such an old bag, no one is willing to pop the question. Everything will go to Shurochka, but till then – ten thousand and a couple of ladles, and she’ll have to beg for that. ( Rummages in his pocket. )Care for a cigar? De los Majores. ( Holds out his cigar case. )They’re good.
Ivanov goes up to Borkin, catching his breath with rage.
Ivanov Get out of this house, this instant!
Borkin pulls himself up slightly and drops his cigar.
Out! Now!
Borkin Nicolas, what does this mean? Are you angry about
Sasha Yes, much better.
Ivanov Why?
Sasha There’s a lot that men don’t understand. Every girl is drawn to a man who needs her, because what we’re looking for is love that gives us something to do. Not passive love. Do you see? Active love. Men put their work first, love has to take second place – a chat, a walk in the garden, some pleasant times, a few tears on her grave, and that’s about it. But for us, love is the reason for living. Loving you means dreaming of curing you of your unhappiness, of following you to the ends of the earth. Where you go, there I’ll go – to the mountaintopor into the abyss. I’d love more than anything to spend all night doing your paperwork for you, or to walk by your side for miles and miles. Once, about three years ago, at harvest time, you showed up all covered in dust and sunburnt, you were exhausted, and you asked for a drink of water. I brought you a glass, but you were stretched out on the sofa, dead to the world. You slept the whole day, and I stood by the door keeping watch so that no one came in. I felt so happy. The more you do for love, the more love you feel.
Ivanov Active love . . . huh! . . . Is it a mutation? – a schoolgirl’s daydream? – or is it love as love ought to be? ( Shrugs his shoulders. )Who knows? ( Cheerfully. )Sasha, God’s truth, as a man I’m as decent as the next. I know I sound off on all kinds of things but never in my life have I said, ‘Our women have got something wrong with them, ‘ or, ‘That woman there is going to come to no good.’ Heavens, all I feel is gratitude for them. You’re a dear, good girl, and you cheer me up, too. ( Walks quickly off to one side. )You’ve got to go, Sasha! We’re forgetting ourselves.
Sasha Yes, it’s time to go. I’m afraid that honest doctor of yours might think it’s his duty to tell Anna Petrovna I’m here. Listen – go to your wife – now, this minute – and sit by her and keep sitting by her – for a year if you have to – or ten years. Be sad with her, beg her forgiveness, cry with her. Do your duty. And – most important – don’t neglect your work!
Ivanov Not for the first time, I feel I’ve eaten the wrong kind of mushroom.
Sasha Well, God bless you, Nikolay! Put me out of your head. Write me a line in a couple of weeks – I’d be grateful. I’ll write to you, too . . .
Borkin looks in through the door.
Borkin Nikolay, may I? ( Seeing Sasha. )Oh, excuse me – ( Comes in. ) Bon jour! ( Bows. )
Sasha ( embarrassed )Hello.
Borkin You’ve put on weight, pretty one, it suits you.
Sasha ( to Ivanov )Well, I’ll be going now, Nikolay Alekseevich . . . I’m off.
Sasha leaves.
Borkin She’s a vision! I came on a prosaic matter of business and found poetry. ( Sings. )’You appeared like a bird towards the light . . .’
Ivanov walks up and down the stage agitatedly. Borkin sits down.
She’s got something about her the others haven’t got – don’t you think so, Nicolas? Something special, something not of this world . . . ( Sighs. )As it happens, she’s the richest match in the district, but her mama is such an old bag, no one is willing to pop the question. Everything will go to Shurochka, but till then – ten thousand and a couple of ladles, and she’ll have to beg for that. ( Rummages in his pocket. )Care for a cigar? De los Majores. ( Holds out his cigar case. )They’re good.
Ivanov goes up to Borkin, catching his breath with rage.
Ivanov Get out of this house, this instant!
Borkin pulls himself up slightly and drops his cigar.
Out! Now!
Borkin Nicolas, what does this mean? Are you angry about
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