MME KUKUSHKIN. It’s time you knew, young lady! I don’t get income from anywhere, only my pension. I have to make ends meet as best I can. I deny myself everything. I bustle about like a thief at the fair, but for all that I’m not an old woman yet, I could find myself a match. Do you understand that?
JULIE. I understand, ma’am.
MME KUKUSHKIN. I make stylish dresses and all sorts of knick-knacks for you, but for myself I take my old things and cut and dye them. Now you probably think I’m dressing you up for your own pleasure, just so you can look smart. But you’re mistaken. I’m doing all this to get you married, to get you off my hands. With my means I couldn’t keep you in anything but cotton house dresses. If you don’t want or don’t know how to land yourself a bridegroom, so be it. But I don’t intend to cut down and limit myself for you to no good purpose.
PAULINE. Mama, this is an old story. Tell us what it’s all about.
MME KUKUSHKIN. You be quiet! Nobody’s talking to you. To make up for your stupidity God gave you good luck, so be quiet. If this Zhadov weren’t such a fool, you’d end up an old maid, you’re so emptyheaded. What man in his right mind would take you? Who’d want to? You don’t have a thing to brag about, not a brain in your head. You can’t say you charmed the man, he came running himself, he’s putting his own neck in the noose, nobody dragged him here. But Julie’s a bright girl, and that’s why she’s sure to win happiness. Tell me, does your Belogubov show any promise or not?
JULIE. I don’t know, Mama.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Then who does? You know very well, young lady, I don’t receive just any young men. Only a suitor or one who might be. If a man looks something like that, come right in, please, open house. But when he starts getting evasive it’s the gate for him. We don’t need that type. I’m protecting my reputation, yes, and yours too.
JULIE. But Mama, what do you want me to do?
MME KUKUSHKIN. Do as you’re told. Just remember one thing, you can’t stay single. If you do, you’ll have to live in the kitchen.
JULIE. I’ve done all you told me, Mama.
MME KUKUSHKIN. What have you done? Tell me, I’m all ears.
JULIE. When he came that second time, you remember, you almost had to drag him in, I made eyes at him.
MME KUKUSHKIN. And what did he do?
JULIE. In a strange way he stuck his lips together, and then he licked them. I think he was too stupid to understand. Nowadays any schoolboy would do better.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Maybe you know something I don’t, but what I do see is that he shows his bosses respect. He knows how to be pleasant and make up to them. That means he’ll go far. I understood that right away.
JULIE. The third time he came, you remember, it was a Friday. I read some love poems to him. I don’t think he understood any of that either. The fourth time I wrote him a little note.
MME KUKUSHKIN. What did he do then?
JULIE. He came over to me, and he says, “My heart has never turned away from you. It always was, is, and ever will be.”
Pauline laughs.
MME KUKUSHKIN (threatening her with her finger). Then what?
JULIE. He says, “As soon as I get the position of department head then I’ll ask your mama for your hand, and I’ll have tears in my eyes.”
MME KUKUSHKIN. Will he get it soon?
JULIE. He says it’ll be soon.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Come here, Julie, kiss me. (Julie kisses her.) Getting married, my dear, is a big thing in a girl’s life. Some day you’ll understand that. I’m a mother, you know, and I’m a strict mother. If a suitor is serious, you can do what you want; I won’t say a thing, dear, I’ll keep quiet. But if it’s going to be hanky panky with a man just in from the street, no! I won’t allow that. Go, Julie, take your place.
Julie sits down.
So when you get married, children, here’s my advice to you. Don’t indulge your husbands, but keep pecking away at them to bring in money. Otherwise, they get lazy, and later on they’re sorry themselves. There’s a lot I ought to tell you girls, but I can’t say all of it now. If something comes up, run straight to me. You’ll always find a welcome with me; I’ll never turn you away. I know all the ins and outs, and I can give you all kinds of advice, even on medical things.
PAULINE. Mama, somebody’s at the door.
JULIE (looking out the window). It’s Belogubov and some old man.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Sit in your places. Julie, lower your cape a bit on your right shoulder.
Yusov and Belogubov enter.
BELOGUBOV. Hello, Felisata Gerasimovna. (To the young ladies.) Hello, ladies. (Indicating Yusov.) Ma’am, he wanted… this is my superior and my benefactor, Akim Akimych Yusov. You know it’s better, Felisata Gerasimovna, when it’s with your superior, ma’am.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Welcome, welcome! Please sit down.
Yusov and Belogubov sit down.
Let me introduce you to my two daughters, Julie and Pauline. They’re absolute children, don’t understand a thing; they should still be playing with their dolls instead of getting married. It’s a great pity to part with them, but what can you do? Goods like that can’t be kept at home.
YUSOV. Yes, ma’am, that’s the law of our fates, ma’am. It’s the very sphere of life itself, ma’am! Whatever has been foreordained for ages and ages, that is something, ma’am, which man cannot…
MME KUKUSHKIN. I’ll tell you the honest truth, Akim Akimych. I’ve brought them up strictly, away from everything. I can’t give a big dowry for them, but when it comes to morality their husbands will be grateful. I love my children, Akim Akimych, but I’m strict, terribly strict. (Sternly.) Pauline, go get the tea ready.
PAULINE (gets up). Right away, Mama. (She goes out.)
YUSOV. I’m strict myself, ma’am. (Sternly.) Belogubov!
BELOGUBOV. What would you like, sir?
YUSOV. Isn’t that right, that I’m strict?
BELOGUBOV. You’re strict, sir. (To Julie.) I have a new vest, miss, take a look.
JULIE. It’s very nice. Did the same merchant give it to you?
BELOGUBOV. No, this was another one, miss. This one has a better mill.
JULIE. Let’s go into the living room. I’ll show you my fancywork.
They leave.
MME KUKUSHKIN. How they love each other, it’s so touching to watch them. The young man lacks just one thing; he says he doesn’t have a good position. He says he can’t guarantee his wife complete tranquillity. If, he says, they would make me a department head, then, he says, I could support a wife. It’s such a shame, Akim Akimych! He’s such a wonderful young man, so much in love…
YUSOV (taking some snuff). It comes bit by bit, Felisata Gerasimovna, bit by bit.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Still you ought to know if he’s going to get this position soon. It might even depend on you. I’ll submit a request on his behalf. (She bows to him.) You really can’t ignore my request, for I’m a mother, a tender mother fussing about for the happiness of her children, her baby birds.
YUSOV (assuming a serious expression). It’ll be soon, soon. I’ve already submitted a report about him to our chief. And that chief is completely in my hands; whatever I say goes. We’ll make him a department head. If I want, he’ll be a department head, and if I don’t, he won’t…Heh, heh, he will be, he will. I have that chief right there. (He shows his hand.)
MME KUKUSHKIN. I’ll have to own up to you I don’t even like bachelors. What do they accomplish? All they do is weigh down the earth.
YUSOV (solemnly). They’re a burden on the earth, a burden… and empty chatter too.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Yes, sir. And it’s even dangerous to admit a bachelor into a home, especially where there are daughters or a young wife. Who knows what he has on his mind? The way I look at it, you have to get a young man married off as soon as you can; later on he himself will want to thank you. Otherwise they’re stupid; they don’t know what’s good for them.
YUSOV. Yes, ma’am. It’s because they get distr
acted. You see, life… is the sea of life… it swallows a man up.
MME KUKUSHKIN. A bachelor can’t set up a proper household; he pays no attention to the house; he goes to the tavern.
YUSOV. But some of us go there too, ma’am… it’s a repose from our labors…
MME KUKUSHKIN. But there’s a big difference, Akim Akimych. You go when you’re invited, when somebody wants to treat you, to show their respect. But you don’t really go at your own expense.
YUSOV. I should say not. No, ma’am, in that case I don’t go.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Take a case like this. A man submitting an official request invites your bachelor to a tavern, treats him to a dinner, and that’s the end of it. A lot of money spent but no good from it. But your married man, Akim Akimych, will tell the man making that request, “What good are your dinners to me? I’m better off having dinner with my wife, family style, quietly, in my own little nook. Just give me some pure cash.” And he’ll bring home the money. From that you have two advantages: he comes home sober, and he has money… How many years have you been married?
YUSOV. It’s been forty-three years, ma’am.
MME KUKUSHKIN. You don’t say! But your face looks so young!
YUSOV. It’s the regularity of my life… Yesterday I had my blood drawn with cupping glasses.
MME KUKUSHKIN. A healthy man is always healthy, especially a man at rest in his soul, a man who’s well off.
YUSOV. Let me make a report to you about the game of nature taking its course… with a man… from poverty to riches. They took me, ma’am… this was a long time ago… into the office, I had on a shabby miserable coat, and I’d just learned to read and write… I can see them now sitting there, all older men, looking important, as if they were angry. Those days they didn’t shave much,3 and it made them look even more important. I was so frightened I couldn’t say a word. For a couple of years I ran errands, did all kinds of things: went for vodka, for meat pies, and for kvass if somebody had a hangover. And I didn’t sit at a table or on a chair but by the window on a pile of papers; I didn’t write out of an inkwell but out of an old hairgrease jar. But I made something of myself. Of course it’s not all our doing… it’s from above… it seems it just had to be that I would become somebody and hold an important position. Sometimes my wife and I wonder: why did God favor us so with His gifts? For everything there’s a fate… and one has to do good deeds… help the poor. Yes, ma’am, at the present time I have three little homes, far away, to be sure, but that doesn’t stop me, for I have a team of four horses. Their being far away makes it even better; there’s more land and less noise made about it, less talk, less malicious gossip.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Yes, of course. I suppose you have a little flower garden near your homes?
YUSOV. Yes, I do, ma’am. In the summer heat it’s all good for cooling off and resting the limbs. But I don’t have any pride, ma’am. Pride blinds people… Even if it’s a peasant… I treat him like my own brother… after all, he’s my neighbor… But at work that’s out… The ones I especially don’t care for are those emptyheaded ones, the educated fellows they have now. With them I’m strict and demanding. They have such a high opinion of themselves. I just don’t go along with their crazy notions, as if scholars could grab stars from the sky. I’ve seen their kind; they’re no better than us sinners, and they’re not so attentive to their work. I have a rule: I make things as hard for them as I can for the good of the service… because they do harm. Somehow or other, Felisata Gerasimovna, my heart goes out more to the simple folk. Things are so strict now a man can suffer a setback; for failing grades he can be expelled from a district school or from the lower classes of a preparatory school. How can you not help a man like that? He’s been killed by fate, deprived of everything, treated badly all around. But in our office those are the very ones who catch on faster and are more compliant; they have a more open mind. Out of Christian duty you make something out of him, and he’ll be grateful for the rest of his life; he’ll ask you to stand at his wedding, be godfather to his children. You get your reward in the future life… Now take Belogubov. It’s true he can’t read or write, but I love him, Felisata Gerasimovna, like a son; he has feeling. But I must confess to you, your other suitor… you know, he’s under me too… So I’m in a position to judge…
MME KUKUSHKIN. What is it?
YUSOV (makes a serious face). He’s not reliable.
MME KUKUSHKIN. But why not? He’s not a drunkard or a spendthrift or lazy, is he?
YUSOV. No, ma’am. But…(He takes some snuff.) He’s not reliable.
MME KUKUSHKIN. In what way? Explain it to me, my dear Akim Akimych. After all, I’m the mother.
YUSOV. It’s this way. He has a certain man for a relative… Aristarkh Vladimirych Vyshnevsky.
MME KUKUSHKIN. I know.
YUSOV. He’s a big man, no question, a big man.
MME KUKUSHKIN. I know.
YUSOV. But Zhadov’s disrespectful to him.
MME KUKUSHKIN. I know, I know.
YUSOV. He’s rude to his superiors… high and mighty above all limits… and the thoughts he has… he’s corrupting the youth… above all, his freethinking. His superiors have to take a stern view.
MME KUKUSHKIN. I know.
YUSOV. If you know, then you can judge for yourself. What times we’ve come to, Felisata Gerasimovna, no real life at all! And whose fault is it? It’s that trash, those little boys. They’re being graduated by the hundreds; they’ll take us all over.
MME KUKUSHKIN. But when he gets married, Akim Akimych, he’ll change. If I didn’t know all that, I couldn’t go through with it; I’m not a mother to rush into things with eyes closed. I have a rule. As soon as a young man starts coming here I send somebody to find out every last thing about him, or I find out from people myself. The way I see it, all those stupid things come from his being a bachelor. But once he’s married we women will go to work on him. He’ll make it up with his uncle, and he’ll be good at work.
YUSOV. If he changes, his superiors will change towards him…(He becomes silent for awhile.) We don’t have the officials we used to have, Felisata Gerasimovna! Officials are degenerating. They don’t have any spirit. What a life it used to be, Felisata Gerasimovna, heaven itself! A man could live that kind of life forever. We were swimming, simply swimming, Felisata Gerasimovna. In those days officials were eagles… eagles, but nowadays youth is emptyheaded, there’s something missing.
Zhadov enters.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Welcome, Vasily Nikolaich, welcome. Pauline has missed you terribly. She kept looking for you, running up to one window, then the other. Such love, such love!… Really, I’ve never seen the like. You’re a lucky man, Vasily Nikolaich. Tell me, why is it you’re loved like that?
ZHADOV. Excuse me, Felisata Gerasimovna, I’m a bit late. Oh, Akim Akimych. (He bows.) What brings you here?
MME KUKUSHKIN. Akim Akimych is kind enough to take good care of his officials… I just don’t know how to thank him. He took it on himself to come and get acquainted.
ZHADOV (to Yusov). Thank you. Still, there was no need to trouble yourself.
YUSOV. I came more for Belogubov, Felisata Gerasimovna. He doesn’t have any relatives, so I’m trying to act like a father for him.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Don’t say another word, Akim Akimych. You’re a family man yourself, and I could see right away how you make every effort to encourage young men in the direction of family life. I myself share that feeling, Akim Akimych. (To Zhadov.) You can’t imagine, Vasily Nikolaich, how much I suffer when I see two hearts in love sharing obstacles. When you read a novel, you see how circumstances keep the lovers from seeing each other, or the parents are opposed, or class considerations interfere, how it makes you suffer. I cry, I just cry! And sometimes parents can be so cruel, parents who don’t want to respect their children’s feelings. In cases like that some children even die from love. But when you see that everything is leading up to a happy ending, that all the obstacles are disappe
aring, (in rapture) that love is triumphant, and that the young people are joined in legal wedlock, how all that sweetens up your soul. A kind of sweet bliss goes through all your limbs.
Pauline enters.
PAULINE. Won’t you come in? The tea’s all ready. (Seeing Zhadov.) Vasily Nikolaich! Aren’t you ashamed to make me suffer so? I waited and waited for you.
ZHADOV (kisses her hand). I’m sorry.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Come here, my child, kiss me.
PAULINE (to Zhadov). Let’s go in.
MME KUKUSHKIN. Let’s go in, Akim Akimych.
They leave. Belogubov and Julie enter with cups in hand.
JULIE. As I see it, you’ve been deceiving me all the time.
BELOGUBOV. How could I dare deceive you, miss? Wherever did you get that idea?
They sit down.
JULIE. You can’t believe men in anything, anything at all.
BELOGUBOV. What makes you so critical of men?
JULIE. How am I critical when it’s the absolute truth?
BELOGUBOV. That’s not possible, miss. It’s just a matter of talk. It’s the usual thing for men to pay compliments, but the young ladies don’t believe them. They say men deceive them.
JULIE. You know everything. You yourself have probably paid a lot of compliments in your life.
BELOGUBOV. I didn’t have anyone to pay them to, and then again I don’t know how to, miss. You know that I’ve just started coming to the house, miss, and before that I didn’t have any acquaintances.
JULIE. And you didn’t deceive anyone?
BELOGUBOV. In what regard?
JULIE. Don’t talk to me. I don’t believe a single word you say. (She turns away.)
BELOGUBOV. But what’s the point of this, miss? One could take offense.
JULIE. I should think you’d understand.
BELOGUBOV. I don’t understand, miss.
JULIE. You don’t want to! (She covers her eyes with her handkerchief.)
BELOGUBOV. I can assure you any way you want, miss, that I have always… the way it was when I fell in love, miss, that’s the way it is now… I’ve already told you…
JULIE. You’re in love, but you keep putting things off.
Without a Dowry and Other Plays Page 4
