Man From the USSR & Other Plays
Page 16
KUPRIKOV
He did not see me, and I observed him for some time from behind a thick tree trunk, on which somebody had carved some initials, which, however, were already blackened with age. Barbashin was gazing at the ground and thinking weighty thoughts. Then he shifted his position and began looking to one side at a bit of sunbathed lawn. After about twenty minutes he got up and left. The first yellow leaf of the season fell onto the empty bench.
WRITER
A vital and beautifully phrased report. Does anyone wish to comment?
KUPRIKOV
From which I concluded that he was planning some evil deed and therefore I once again address to you, Lyubov’ Ivanovna, and to you, dear Alyosha, in the presence of witnesses, an emphatic appeal that you take maximum precautions.
TROSHCHEYKIN
Yes! But what precautions? What precautions?
WRITER
That, as Shakespeare would have said, is the question, (to the Reporter) And what do you have to say, my dear Sun?
REPORTER
I’d like to ask Mrs. Troshcheykin a few questions. May I?
LYUBOV’
Have a cup of tea instead. Or a brandy?
REPORTER
My humble thanks. I wanted to ask you for a general description of your emotions when you found out.
WRITER
Quite useless, dear chap. She won’t tell you a single thing. Keeps silent but burns you up with her gaze. I confess that such women make me tremble with desire. As for this brandy—well, I advise against it.
ANTONINA PAVLOVNA
I’ll start now if I may....
WRITER
(to Reporter)
By the way, your paper has again started printing all kinds of cheap trash about me. I haven’t been preparing a story based on gypsy life and would never prepare one. Shame on you.
ANTONINA PAVLOVNA
Pyotr Nikolaevich, may I?
WRITER
By all means. Attention, everybody.
ANTONINA PAVLOVNA
The first rays of the sun.... Oh yes, I forgot to tell you, Pyotr Nikolaevich. This is from my Illumined Lakes cycle. Maybe you have read some of it.... “The first rays of the sun playing and, as it were, frolicking, ran in a tentative chromatic scale across the smooth surface of the lake, touched the keys of the reeds, and paused amid the dark-green sedge. On this sedge, with one wing folded, and the other”—
(Ryovshin comes in with Meshaev One: a ruddy blond fellow with a bouquet of similarly ruddy roses.)
RYOVSHIN
Here, Lyubov’ Ivanovna, I think this is the last one. I’m tired.... May I have some—
LYUBOV’
Sh-sh!...Sit down, Osip Mikheyevich. Mama is reading her fairy tale.
MESHAEV ONE
May I interrupt the reading for just one second? I have sensational news.
SEVERAL VOICES
What happened? Tell us! How interesting!
MESHAEV ONE
Lyubov’ Ivanovna! Alexey Maximovich! Know who got home from jail? Last night? Barbashin!
(general laughter}
WRITER
Is that all? My dear fellow, they even know about it in the maternity wards by now. Ye-es—Came barbashing in a little late, didn’t you?
MESHAEV ONE
In that case I shall limit myself to wishing you a happy birthday, Antonina Pavlovna, (takes out crib notes) My wish to you is that you may entertain us for a long time to come with your splendid female talent. The days go by, but books—books, Antonina Pavlovna—remain on their shelves, and the grand cause that you selflessly serve is truly grand and abundant, and every one of your lines rings on and on in our minds and hearts in an eternal refrain. How beautiful, how fresh the roses were.5 (gives her the roses) (applause)
ANTONINA PAVLOVNA
Thank you for the kind wishes, my dear Osip Mikheyevich. But why are you alone? Didn’t you promise to bring your brother who lives in the country?
MESHAEV ONE
I thought he’d be here already. He probably missed his train and will come on the evening one. It’s a pity: I particularly wanted to entertain all of you with our striking resemblance. But please go on with your reading!
WRITER
Yes, please. Make yourselves comfortable, ladies and gentlemen. We are probably in for a long session. Closer, closer together.
(They all move slightly upstage.)
ANTONINA PAVLOVNA
“On this sedge, with one wing folded, and the other spread wide, lay a dead swan. Its eyes were half-open, and tears still glistened on the long lashes. Meanwhile the east was coming aglow, and the sun’s chords rang ever more brightly on the broad lake. With each touch of the long rays, with every light breath of air, the leaves....”
(As she reads, her face remains distinct, but she seems to have receded with her armchair into the distance, so that her voice grows inaudible even though her lips continue to move and her hand keeps on turning the pages. The listeners around her, who have also lost all contact with the front of the stage, sit in motionless, drowsy attitudes: Ryovshin has frozen with a bottle of champagne between his knees; the Writer’s eyes are shaded by his hand. Actually, a scrim ought to descend, or a drop on which the whole group is depicted with all their attitudes exactly reproduced.)
(Troshcheykin and Lyubov’advance quickly to the proscenium.)
LYUBOV’
Alyosha, I can’t stand it any longer.
TROSHCHEYKIN
I can’t either....
LYUBOV’
The most terrible day of our lives—
TROSHCHEYKIN
... our last day—
LYUBOV’
... has turned into a grotesque farce. From these painted specters we can expect neither salvation nor-compassion.
TROSHCHEYKIN
We must run...
LYUBOV’
Yes, oh yes!
TROSHCHEYKIN
... Run—and for some reason we dawdle like motionless operatic characters singing of escape under immobile palm trees. I can sense the approaching—
LYUBOV’
... Danger. But what kind of danger? Oh, if only you could understand!
TROSHCHEYKIN
... Danger just as real as our hands, our shoulders, our cheeks. Lyuba, we are absolutely alone....
LYUBOV’
Yes, alone. But these are two solitudes, and each is a closed circle. Try to understand me!
TROSHCHEYKIN
... Alone on this narrow, lighted stage. Behind us, the old theatrical frippery of our whole life, the frozen masks of a second-rate comedy, and in front a dark chasm full of eyes, eyes, eyes watching us, awaiting our destruction.
LYUBOV’
Answer quick: you know that I deceive you?
TROSHCHEYKIN
Yes. But you will never leave me.
LYUBOV’
I’m so overcome with regret sometimes. Things weren’t always like this.
TROSHCHEYKIN
Don’t let go, Lyuba!
LYUBOV’
Our little son broke the mirror with a ball today. Hold me, Alyosha. Don’t loosen your grip.
TROSHCHEYKIN
I can’t see clearly.... Everything is growing hazy again. I don’t feel you anymore. You are merging with life again. We are sinking again. Lyuba, it’s all over!
LYUBOV’
Onegin, I was younger then, I was, I daresay, better-looking.6...Yes, I’ve weakened too. I can’t remember.... How marvelous it was on those momentary heights.
TROSHCHEYKIN
Fantasies. Delusions. If somebody doesn’t get me money today I won’t live through the night.
LYUBOV’
Look, how strange: Marfa is tiptoeing toward us from the door. Look at the awful expression on her face. Just look! She’s creeping in with some terrible news. She can barely move....
TROSHCHEYKIN
(to Marfa)
Is it him? Out with it: is he here?
<
br /> LYUBOV’
(clapping her hands and laughing)
She’s nodding. Alyoshen’ka, she’s nodding!
(Shekel’ enters. He is round-shouldered and wean dark glasses.)
SHCHEL’
I beg your pardon.... My name is Ivan Ivanovich Shchel’. Your half-witted maid didn’t want to let me in. You don’t know me, but you may know that I have a gun store across from the cathedral.
TROSHCHEYKIN
I’m listening.
SHCHEL’
I felt it my duty to come and see you. I must warn you about something.
TROSHCHEYKIN
Come closer, come closer. Here, kitty, kitty.
SHCHEL’
But you are not alone. This is a gathering....
TROSHCHEYKIN
Don’t pay any attention.... It’s a kind of mirage. They are extras. They don’t exist. Actually, I daubed it all myself. A poor painting, but innocuous.
SHCHEL’
Don’t try to fool me. That man over there bought a shotgun from me last year.
LYUBOV’
You’re imagining things. Believe us! We know better. My husband painted it in very natural colors. We are alone. You may speak freely.
SHCHEL’
In that case allow me to inform you.... Immediately upon learning who has returned, I recollected with alarm that at noon today a Browning-type automatic was purchased in my store.
(The drop rises, and the reader's voice loudly concludes: “.,. and then the swan came back to life. ”Ryovshin uncorks the champagne. The sound of animation is immediately cut short, however.)
TROSHCHEYKIN
Did Barbashin buy it?
SHCHEL’
No, the buyer was a Mr. Arshinski. However, I can see that you understand for whom the weapon was intended.
CURTAIN
ACT THREE
The studio again. The balls in the picture have all been painted in. Lyubov’ is alone. She looks out the window, then slowly draws the blind. On the table lies a pack of cigarettes that Ryovshin forgot that morning. She lights one. Sits down. A mouse (the illusion of a mouse), taking advantage of the stillness, emerges from a crack, and Lyubov’follows its movements with a smile; she cautiously changes her position, leans forward, but suddenly the mouse skitters away. Marfa enters from the left.
LYUBOV’
There’s a little mouse here again.
MARFA
And in the kitchen there are cockroaches. It’s all part of the same thing.
LYUBOV’
What’s wrong with you?
MARFA
What do you think? If you don’t need anything else today,
Lyubov’ Ivanovna, I’ll be going.
LYUBOV’
Where are you off to?
MARFA
I’ll spend the night at my brother’s, and tomorrow please let me leave for good. I am afraid to remain here. I’m a feeble old woman, and this house is an unhealthy place.
LYUBOV’
That wasn’t a very good performance. I’ll show you how it ought to be done. “Have mercy on me....I am a feeble, sickly old woman.... I’m all in a funk.... The Evil One is on the loose here....” That’s the way. A very common part, actually.... You can get the hell out of here whenever you want, for all I care.
MARFA
I’ll do just that, Lyubov’ Ivanovna, I’ll do just that. Living with a bunch of loonies isn’t for me.
LYUBOV’
Don’t you think that’s a pretty swinish thing to do, though? You could at least have stayed the night.
MARFA
Swinish? Had my fill of swinery. Boyfriend here, boyfriend there....
LYUBOV’
Oh no—not like that at all: More tremolo, more indignation. Something about Jezebel.
MARFA
I am afraid of you, Lyubov’ Ivanovna. You ought to call a doctor.
LYUBOV’
A healer, not a doctor. No, I’m definitely not pleased with your acting. I was going to recommend you for the part of a cantankerous biddy, but now I see I can’t.
MARFA
I don’t need to be mended by you.
LYUBOV’
Better, better. That’s enough, though. Good-by.
MARFA
Killers all over the place. ’Tis a night of ill omens.
LYUBOV’
Good-by!
MARFA
I’m going, I’m going. And tomorrow you’ll pay me for the last two months, (leaves)
LYUBOV’
Onegin, I was younger then....I was, I daresay, better-looking... What a nasty old woman! Have you ever seen anything like it? Oh, what a....
(Troshcheykin comes in from the right.)
TROSHCHEYKIN
Lyuba, it’s all over! Baumgarten just called—there won’t be any money.
LYUBOV’
I beg you.... Don’t get so excited all the time. This tension is unbearable.
TROSHCHEYKIN
He promised to have it for me in a week. Who needs it then? What for? To hand out tips in the afterworld?
LYUBOV’
Please, Alyosha.... I have a splitting headache.
TROSHCHEYKIN
All right. But what do we do now? What?
LYUBOV’
It’s eight-thirty now. In an hour we’ll go to bed. That’s all. I’m so worn out from today’s bedlam that my teeth are chattering.
TROSHCHEYKIN
I beg your pardon. I’m going to have one more visitor tonight. Did you really think I was going to leave it at that? Until I am certain that no one is going to come charging in here tonight, I’m not going to bed. No siree!
LYUBOV’
And I am. And to sleep. And that is that.
TROSHCHEYKIN
Only now do I realize how destitute, how helpless we are. Somehow our life went on and our poverty went unnoticed. Listen, Lyuba: the way things are going, the only solution is to accept Ryovshin’s proposal.
LYUBOV’
What do you mean, Ryovshin’s proposal?
TROSHCHEYKIN
My proposal, actually. You see, he will give me money for the trip and so forth, and you will temporarily move in with his sister in the country.
LYUBOV’
A splendid plan.
TROSHCHEYKIN
Of course it’s splendid. I can see no other solution to the problem. Tomorrow we’ll be off—if we live through the night.
LYUBOV’
Alyosha, look into my eyes.
TROSHCHEYKIN
Cut it out. I consider it indispensable, if only for two weeks. We’ll have a rest, we’ll catch our breath.
LYUBOV’
Then let me tell you something. Not only will I never go to Ryovshin’s sister’s, but I won’t budge from here.
TROSHCHEYKIN
Lyuba, Lyuba, Lyuba. Don’t exasperate me. My nerves are out of control today. You obviously want to perish.... Goodness, it’s practically night. Look, I never noticed—there’s not a single street lamp outside our building. Look how far it is to the nearest one. If only the moon would hurry and come up.
LYUBOV’
Let me give you the glad news. Marfa has given notice. And already left.
TROSHCHEYKIN
There we are. The rats are abandoning the ship. Great.... Lyuba, I beg you on bended knee: let’s go away tomorrow. Don’t you see—this is inexorable hell. Fate itself is evicting us. All right, let’s assume there will be a detective with us, but we can’t send him out to the store, can we ? That means tomorrow we have to start looking for a new maid, going to all kinds of trouble, asking your idiot sister to help.... These are headaches I can’t face in the present situation. Come on, Lyubushka, come on, sweet, what will it cost you? If you don’t do it, Ryovshin won’t give me the money—after all, it’s a question of life and death, not of philistine propriety.