NAROKOV. There’s some kind of vile devilish plot going on.
TRAGEDIAN (threateningly). A plot? Where? Against who?
NAROKOV. Against Alexandra Nikolavna.
TRAGEDIAN (still more threateningly). Who’s the man? Where is he? Tell him from me that he’s going to have to deal with me, with Yerast Gromilov!
NAROKOV. You won’t do a thing. Be quiet, don’t irritate me! As it is I’m all upset, and you make a lot of noise but no sense. All the trouble you give me! You people all have a lot you don’t need, but there’s a lot you don’t have enough of. It wears me out just looking at you. The comics have too much of the comic, and you have too much of the tragic. And you don’t have enough grace… grace, or a sense of measure. And it’s a sense of measure that makes for art… You’re not actors, you’re only buffoons!
TRAGEDIAN. No, Martyn, I’m noble… Oh, how noble I am! The one thing that hurts, brother Martyn, is that I’m noble only when I’m drunk…(He lowers his head and sobs in a tragic manner.)
NAROKOV. So, you see what a buffoon you are, you’re a buffoon!
TRAGEDIAN. Martyn! People say you’re crazy. Tell me, is that true or not?
NAROKOV. That’s true, I’ll go along with that, but only on one condition. If all of you here are smart, then I’m crazy, then I won’t argue.
TRAGEDIAN. Do you know, Martyn, what you and I are like?
NAROKOV. What?
TRAGEDIAN. Do you know King Lear?
NAROKOV. I know it.
TRAGEDIAN. Then you remember, there in the forest and out into the storm… I’m Lear, and you’re my fool.
NAROKOV. No, don’t delude yourself. There are no Lears among us, and as to which of us is the fool, I’ll let you figure it out for yourself.
Alexandra comes out of the theater.
ALEXANDRA. What’s going on, Martyn Prokofyich? What are they doing to me?
NAROKOV (grasping his head). I don’t know, I don’t know. Don’t ask me.
ALEXANDRA. It hurts me so much I could cry.
NAROKOV. Oh, don’t cry. Those people aren’t worth your tears. You’re a white dove in a flock of black crows, and they’re pecking away at you. Your whiteness is what offends them, your purity.
ALEXANDRA (in tears). Listen, Martyn Prokofyich, you know it was in your very presence, you remember, he promised to let me play before my benefit performance. But I’ve been waiting, I haven’t played for a whole week, and today’s the last day before the benefit. So what does the nasty man do! He assigns the role of Frou-frou8 to Nina!
NAROKOV. A dagger in the chest right up to the hilt!
ALEXANDRA. They set up ovations for her on the eve of my benefit, they bring her bouquets, and the public has forgotten me completely. What kind of a take can I get at the box office!
TRAGEDIAN. Ophelia, get thee to a nunnery!
ALEXANDRA. I tried to talk to him, but he just makes a joke of it and laughs in my face.
NAROKOV. He’s as hard as an oak tree.
TRAGEDIAN. Ophelia, get thee to a nunnery!
ALEXANDRA. Martyn Prokofyich, you’re the only one who loves me.
NAROKOV. Oh yes, more than life, more than the world.
ALEXANDRA. I understand you and love you myself.
NAROKOV. You understand, you love? Well, then I’m happy, yes… yes… (He laughs quietly.) Happy as a child.
ALEXANDRA. Martyn Prokofyich, do me a favor, go look for Peter Yegorych. Tell him to come to me at the theater.
NAROKOV. I’m so happy it’ll be a pleasure to get your lover.
ALEXANDRA. He’s a fiancé, Martyn Prokofyich, not a lover.
NAROKOV. It’s all the same, the same thing, my white dove! Fiancé, husband, but if you love him, then he’s your lover. But I’m not jealous of him, I’m happy myself.
ALEXANDRA. And drop by at the box office. Find out if they’re taking in anything for my benefit. I’ll wait for you in my dressing room. We’ll have some tea.
Narokov leaves.
TRAGEDIAN. If you’ll have it with rum, then I’ll come too.
ALEXANDRA. No, it won’t have any rum. (She goes off into the theater.)
TRAGEDIAN. Where’s my Vasya? Where’s my Vasya? (He goes off into the depths of the garden.)
Prince Dulyebov and Migaev enter.
DULYEBOV. I’m telling you, Alexandra Nyegin doesn’t suit us. It’s your obligation to please the noble public, the good society, not the gallery. And besides, she’s not to our taste. She’s too simple. She has no manners, no tone.
MIGAEV. She doesn’t have a good wardrobe, but she has a lot of talent, sir.
DULYEBOV. Talent, you say! A lot you understand, my dear fellow!
MIGAEV. That is so, Your Excellency, there’s a great deal I don’t understand. But you know, we judge… excuse me, Your Excellency, by what we can pocket, and she brings in a lot at the box office. Which means she has talent.
DULYEBOV. Why yes, of course. You people are materialists.
MIGAEV. You’re absolutely correct, Your Excellency, when you choose to call us materialists.
DULYEBOV. What you don’t understand is that… delicate… how should I put it?… That style.
MIGAEV. We do understand it, Your Excellency. But let me tell you that last year I sent away for a celebrity with style so she could play high society roles.
DULYEBOV. And what happened?
MIGAEV. We suffered a loss, Your Excellency. There wasn’t any beauty, no joy either.
DULYEBOV. No beauty? Now how can you say such a thing, that there wasn’t any beauty?
MIGAEV. My mistake, Your Excellency. There was some beauty when she’d get dressed for her part and the whole company would crowd around her dressing room, some at the door, some at the cracks. You see, our dressing rooms are transparent—the way they’re built you can see through them.
DULYEBOV (laughs loudly). Ha, ha, ha! So you see! There was joy after all.
MIGAEV. Yes, sir, there was joy… for Your Excellency. But for me it was grief.
DULYEBOV. Ha, ha, ha! How you play with words.
MIGAEV. We can’t get along without that, a little bit of everything, or we’re lost. That’s what our calling is like, Your Excellency.
DULYEBOV. You should write vaudeville sketches, old man. Excuse my familiarity; it’s from good will.
MIGAEV. And why do we knock ourselves out if not for that good will? Just make us happy, Your Excellency… if you want to be familiar or not, it really doesn’t matter.
DULYEBOV. No, don’t say that! I’m polite, and I’m always respectful. So tell me, why not write vaudeville sketches?
MIGAEV. I tried, Your Excellency.
DULYEBOV. And what happened?
MIGAEV. The Theater Commission wouldn’t accept them.
DULYEBOV. That’s strange. Why not?
MIGAEV. I don’t know, Your Excellency.
DULYEBOV. Next time you write something, tell me. Right away I could… in the Commission I have… well, why go into it now? Only tell me.
MIGAEV. Yes, Your Excellency.
DULYEBOV. And I’ll take care of it right away… In the Commission I have… well, why talk about it, only tell me… And instead of that Alexandra Nyegin I’ll send for a real actress for you. A pretty one (He spreads his hands.), with my compliments! You’ll lick your fingers.
MIGAEV. Licking fingers I can put up with, but have you ever had to wipe away tears with your fist, Your Excellency?
DULYEBOV. Ha, ha, ha! You really play with words! No, you really should write vaudeville sketches, I urge you to. But that actress, I’m telling you, she’s a delight.
MIGAEV. What about the cost, Your Excellency?
DULYEBOV. Well, the cost, of course, is rather high.
MIGAEV. And from what sources are we to pay it, Your Excellency? Where do you think we can get it from? Every year our costs go up and the box office take goes down. We pay out salaries recklessly, like millionaires. Could we go halves, Your Excellency?
>
DULYEBOV. “Go halves”! What do you mean, “go halves”?
MIGAEV. Fifty-fifty. You pay half her salary, and I’ll pay half.
DULYEBOV. Ha, ha, ha! Well, all right… So, what about this Alexandra Nyegin? What kind of a leading actress is she? She’s dull, old man. She doesn’t bring any life to our society, she leaves us dejected.
MIGAEV. What can you do! If Your Excellency wishes, I won’t renew her contract.
DULYEBOV. Don’t renew it, don’t.
MIGAEV. Her contract is expiring.
DULYEBOV. Good, fine. All our public will be grateful to you.
MIGAEV. You mean your public, Your Excellency, just the first row of seats.
DULYEBOV. But we’re the ones who set the tone.
MIGAEV. Let’s hope we haven’t made a mistake.
DULYEBOV. Oh no, don’t worry your head about that! The public’s grown cold to her. Just watch, her benefit performance will take in hardly anything at the box office. Want to bet on it?
MIGAEV. I won’t argue with you.
DULYEBOV. It’s out of the question to argue with me. I know the public better than you, and I understand this business. And I’ll send off for an actress who’ll put some life into everybody here. Then we’ll be singing with the larks.
MIGAEV. Singing with the larks? If only we don’t howl with the wolves, Your Excellency.
DULYEBOV. Ha, ha, ha! You really play with words, you really do. Oh, excuse me for getting so carried away in a friendly conversation, but in general I’m tactful… I’m tactful even with servants… (He takes out a cigar case.) Would you care for a cigar?
MIGAEV. Please. (He takes a cigar.) Are they expensive, Your Excellency?
DULYEBOV. I don’t smoke cheap ones.
MIGAEV. I have something that’s troubling me, Your Excellency.
DULYEBOV. What’s that?
MIGAEV. Our tragedian is on a binge. There he is now, in the garden.
DULYEBOV. Are his papers in order?
MIGAEV. Are their papers ever in order, Your Excellency?
DULYEBOV. Then you could scare him. Say you’ll have the police send him back to his place of registration.
MIGAEV. No, trying to scare people like him doesn’t work; I always come out the loser.
DULYEBOV. How’s that?
MIGAEV. Tragedians are full of spirit, Your Excellency. He says to me, “Even if you send me all the way to Kamchatka, you’re still a scoundrel!” And he puts so much expression into that word “scoundrel” that I can’t say anything, I just want to get away.
DULYEBOV. Yes, in that case it’s better to be friendly.
MIGAEV. Friendly is right. People are astonished, Your Excellency, that lion tamers can go into a lion cage, but that doesn’t impress us. I’d much rather go in to the lions than to a tragedian when he’s in a bad mood or drunk.
DULYEBOV. Ha, ha, ha! They’ve really struck fear into you. I’m going to look for some of my friends. (He goes off behind the theater.)
The tragedian enters.
MIGAEV (offering him a cigar). Would you care for a cigar?
TRAGEDIAN. One of those two-kopeck cigars? One could hardly expect a good one from you.
MIGAEV. No, it’s a good one, one of the Prince’s.
TRAGEDIAN. Then why aren’t you smoking it yourself?
MIGAEV. My own are better. (He takes out a silver cigar case.)
TRAGEDIAN. You have a cigar case like that, but you say you have no money.
MIGAEV. Yes, I’m a queer one, I should have pawned it long ago, but I can’t. It’s a gift, a remembrance, I guard it like the apple of my eye. You can see the inscription: “To Gavriil Petrovich Migaev from the public.”
TRAGEDIAN. You gypsy you!
MIGAEV. Talk with yourself if you don’t understand sense. There’s the audience, the act must be over. (He goes off.)
TRAGEDIAN (shouts after him). You gypsy you! (He sits down at a table.) O people, people! (He lowers his head onto his hands.)
Dulyebov, Velikatov, Bakin and Vasya enter.
BAKIN. It’s great, that’s how to teach those people a lesson, in the future they’ll act smarter. I inquired at the box office; they’ve taken in fourteen rubles.
VASYA. Not much, sir. But they’ll sell more tickets tomorrow morning and evening; they’ll take in something.
BAKIN. A hundred rubles. No more.
VASYA. Even that is money, sir.
BAKIN. Not a whole lot. And she surely must have some debts, for clothes here and there. Actresses can’t live without that. (To Vasya.) Doesn’t she owe you anything?
VASYA. We don’t give credit, sir.
BAKIN. You’re covering up for her. I like that, it’s nice when public opinion is so friendly. (To Velikatov.) How do you feel about that?
VELIKATOV. I agree with you completely.
BAKIN. In the person of the Prince our society has been insulted by her, so society is paying her back with its indifference, letting her realize it has forgotten her existence. When she won’t have anything to eat, she’ll learn proper manners.
VASYA. But how did Miss Nyegin insult His Excellency?
BAKIN. You know Prince Irakly Stratonych, don’t you?
VASYA. How could I help knowing him, sir? Who in our region doesn’t know His Excellency?
DULYEBOV. Yes, we’ve known each other a long time, I knew his father too…
BAKIN (to Vasya). Then you know what kind of a man he is, don’t you? A man respected in the highest degree, our most learned critic. The soul of our society, a man with great taste, one who knows how to live well. He loves art and understands its fine points. A patron of all artists, actors and especially actresses…
DULYEBOV. Isn’t that enough?
BAKIN. To each according to his merits. Not only that, this is a man who’s generous, hospitable, an excellent family man. Take note of that, gentlemen! For that’s something rare in our day. In a word, a man respected in all respects. Isn’t that so?
VASYA. Exactly, sir.
BAKIN (to Velikatov). There can’t be two opinions about it?
VELIKATOV. I agree with you completely.
BAKIN. And this man, gentlemen, a man respected in all respects and an excellent family man, wanted to make a young woman, Miss Nyegin, happy by bestowing his favor on her. I ask you, what’s bad about that? He says to her very politely, “How would you like being kept by me, my dear?” But she took it into her head to take offense and start crying.
DULYEBOV. No, really now, Grigory Antonych, do me a favor, give it a rest!
BAKIN. But why, Prince?
DULYEBOV. When you start praising somebody, the man respected in all respects ends up completely disrespected.
BAKIN. As you wish. I don’t know… I always speak the truth. Allow me, Prince, to continue a bit more. So, please note, Miss Nyegin took offense. There wasn’t any reason for her to take offense, or even think of it, because in essence there’s nothing offensive there. It turns out there’s an outside influence.
DULYEBOV. Yes, I heard.
BAKIN. That young lady has a student teaching her, and that explains the matter quite simply.
DULYEBOV. They’ve even infiltrated the theater.
BAKIN. If they knew what was good for them, they’d stick to cutting up their dogs and frogs, but they’ve taken it into their head to educate actresses. And in actresses learning is a dangerous thing. We have to take immediate steps against it.
DULYEBOV. Absolutely.
BAKIN. And suppose they really would educate them. What would the Prince and I do with ourselves then?
DULYEBOV. All right now, that’s enough! Please!
BAKIN. As you wish, I’ve finished. (To Velikatov.) Am I correct in thinking you wanted to leave today?
VELIKATOV. One can’t always plan things for certain. I really did want to leave today, but now I see the possibility of an operation I wasn’t counting on.
BAKIN. You’re tempted by the chance of gaining something?<
br />
VELIKATOV. It’s a business with a risk. I could gain something, but I could very easily lose too.
BAKIN. It would be nice if we could eat together tonight.
VELIKATOV. That’s all right by me.
BAKIN. And how about you, Prince?
DULYEBOV. Yes, fine, let’s do it.
BAKIN. We’ll meet here after the performance and go somewhere. What’s going on there now? The divertissement?
VASYA. Some storyteller’s doing his thing.
DULYEBOV. Good, let’s go in for a laugh or two.
BAKIN. If he pleases you, Prince, add something for him.
Bakin, Dulyebov, and Velikatov leave.
TRAGEDIAN. Where’s my Vasya?
VASYA (approaching). Here’s your Vasya. What do you want?
TRAGEDIAN. Where did you disappear to, brother?
VASYA. What do you want from me?! Speak fast!
TRAGEDIAN. What do I want?! I want respect. Do you mean to tell me you don’t know your obligation?
VASYA. Well, you just be patient, and I’ll learn to respect you. Since you’ve waited so long for it you can wait a while longer. I’m going in to hear the storyteller, all my friends are there. So be nice about it and don’t hold me up.
TRAGEDIAN. Go on! I’m noble.
Vasya leaves. Alexandra, Nina, and Meluzov come out. of the theater. Meluzov is carrying a plaid for the shoulders and Alexandra’s short cloak.
NINA. Yes, Sasha, your position is very unpleasant, I understand that. But none of it’s my fault, Sasha. I’m in a lot of trouble too.
ALEXANDRA. That can’t be, what trouble are you in! I can’t believe it. It’s all so easy for you, things are going your way.
NINA. I’ll tell you…(She leads Alexandra aside.) The Prince is showing me a lot of attention.
ALEXANDRA. So what! That’s your affair.
NINA. I know it’s my affair. But I don’t want to let go of Velikatov.
ALEXANDRA (with some agitation). You mean Velikatov is showing you attention too?
NINA. He’s strange. He comes to see me every day, he carries out my every wish, but he doesn’t say anything… He must be shy, there are types like that. I just don’t know how to act. If I’m cold to the Prince, I’ll gain a enemy. But Velikatov’s leaving tomorrow, and I could lose him. If I’m nice to the Prince, I’ll be ungrateful to Velikatov, and anyway, I like Velikatov a lot more.
Without a Dowry and Other Plays Page 32
