by Brian Friel
Arkady (off) Katya! Katya?
She approaches Bazarov and realizes at once that something is amiss. Pause.
Katya (quietly, seriously) Yevgeny? Are you all right, Yevgeny?
Arkady (off) Katya! Where are you?
She gazes at him, hunched, tense, behind his book. She reaches out to touch him.
Katya Yevgeny?
Arkady You’re for it, madam – I’m telling you!
Arkady is just outside. She withdraws her hand and runs out of the gazebo.
Katya I’ve hidden it in the gazebo, Arkady!
She runs into the living-room and hides behind a door. Arkady enters, limping; a limp similar to his father’s.
Arkady I’m warning you, girl! You’ve crippled me – that’s what you’ve done! (to himself) The gazebo … (He goes to the gazebo and searches it. As he does:) Was Katya here, Bazarov? Where did she hide my shoe? I’m going to kill that girl!
Katya (appearing on the veranda) Cold, Arkady. Very cold. Getting colder, much colder.
Arkady Come on, Katya! Where is it? Where is it? My feet are wrecked with bloody thorns!
Katya (holding up a shoe) This isn’t yours, is it?
She laughs and disappears into the living-room. He runs/hops after her. As he does:
Arkady You told me lies! You misled me! Just you wait there, madam! I’m going to twist your neck! Katya! Katya! Wait there! Wait!
He disappears into the living-room. Their laughter dies away. Bazarov closes his book. He sits with his eyes shut tight, his shoulders tensed and hunched, his whole body rigid and anguished. Fenichka enters carrying a large bunch of roses she has just cut. Just before she enters the house she glances over at the gazebo, thinks she sees somebody, looks again and recognizes Bazarov. She approaches slowly and studies him for a few seconds before she speaks to him. She speaks softly.
Fenichka Yevgeny, is there something wrong?
He opens his eyes suddenly. He is startled.
Bazarov Hello? – yes? – yes?
Fenichka Are you all right, Yevgeny? Is something the matter?
He flashes a smile at her and speaks with excessive enthusiasm, almost in panic.
Bazarov Fenichka! It’s you! How are you? I’m glad to see you – I’m delighted to see you! Yes, yes, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m really fine, Fenichka. I mean that – I really do – honestly. It’s all over and I’m still alive. In fact I’m perfectly well. But how are you? I haven’t seen you for days and days and I’ve missed you. Where have you been hiding?
Fenichka You’re the one who has been hiding – upstairs reading those books of yours.
Bazarov Sit down beside me. Talk to me.
She sits beside him.
Fenichka What about?
Bazarov It doesn’t matter. About chasms and relationships and happiness – about your healing presence in this disturbed house – about those tranquil roses. They’re beautiful roses.
Sound of Nikolai playing the cello in the distance: Beethoven’s Romance for violin and orchestra in G-major, Op. 40.
Fenichka They’re past their best. But Nikolai likes to have flowers on the dining-room table.
Bazarov Nikolai is blessed. That’s a strange word for me to use – blessed. Six months ago I would have said the word had no meaning. But it has – it describes the condition of someone, anyone, to whom the beautiful Fenichka turns her open face and on whom she smiles. Yes, I have missed you. It’s not that we ever talk – this is probably the first time we’ve ever been alone together – but I’m always aware of your presence in the house, even when you’re not there. I think it’s because you generate goodness. That’s another strange word for me. And suddenly it has meaning, too. You’re equipping me with a new vocabulary, Fenichka!
Fenichka Will you stop talking like that, Yevgeny! I don’t understand a word you’re saying!
Bazarov Are you happy, Fenichka? I hope you are. Are you?
He takes her hand in his. Pavel enters from the living-room. He is engrossed in a book. He pauses on the veranda and then moves slowly downstage.
Fenichka I don’t think about things like that.
Bazarov Then you are.
Fenichka I’m young. I have my health. I have Mitya.
Bazarov And you have Nikolai.
She withdraws her hand.
Fenichka Nikolai is a kind man.
Bazarov Yes, he is. Do you love him?
Fenichka Do you remember those drops you gave me for Mitya? Three days ago – remember? – he was vomiting – you thought he had eaten something. Well, they worked miracles. He was as right as rain in a couple of hours.
Bazarov I’m glad of that. So now you must pay me.
Fenichka is unsure and embarrassed.
Fenichka I –?
Bazarov Doctors have to be paid, don’t they? Doctors are notoriously greedy people, aren’t they?
Fenichka You’re right, Yevgeny. I’m sorry. I’ll speak to Nikolai today and he’ll –
Bazarov No, no, no, no, no, no, Fenichka. I don’t want money. It’s not mere money I want. I want something personal – from you.
Fenichka What is that?
Bazarov Guess.
Fenichka I’m no good at guessing, Yevgeny.
Bazarov All right. I’ll tell you what I want from you. I want … one of those roses.
The cello music stops.
She laughs with relief. He laughs with her.
Fenichka What colour would you like, sir?
Bazarov A red one. A small red one, Fenichka Fedosya.
Fenichka There you are, Yevgeny Vassilyich – one small red rose.
Between them they drop it. Together they stoop down to pick it up. Their hands meet on the ground. They laugh briefly and then stop. They look at one another. He kisses her on the lips. Pavel is now downstage and happens to look across at them at the moment they kiss. Fenichka looks over Bazarov’s shoulder and sees Pavel watching.
Pavel So this is how Nihilists betray hospitality.
Fenichka (jumping to her feet and moving towards Pavel) There is nothing, Pavel Petrovich – I swear before God – there is nothing at all – (She rushes off.)
Bazarov Fenichka, your flowers – (He begins to pick them up.)
Pavel What are your views on duelling, Monsieur Bazarov?
Bazarov Sorry?
Pavel I said what are your views on duelling?
Bazarov I have no ‘views’ on duelling.
Pavel Would you accept that it is a method by which gentlemen can settle their differences?
Bazarov I think it’s just another method of killing – or being killed.
Pavel But if you were insulted you would demand satisfaction?
Bazarov I don’t know. Maybe. I suppose so.
Pavel Excellent.
Bazarov has now gathered the scattered flowers and for the first time faces Pavel.
Bazarov What’s all this about?
Pavel I wish to fight you.
Bazarov now realizes that Pavel is deadly serious.
Bazarov A duel? You want to fight a duel with me?!
Pavel Tomorrow morning at six.
Bazarov You’re not serious!
Pavel Behind the birch plantation.
Bazarov But – but – but why would you want to fight with me?
Pavel It is sufficient for you to know that I despise you – indeed, I detest you.
Bazarov But that’s no reason to fight, Pavel Petrovich!
Pavel raises his walking-stick as if to strike Bazarov.
Pavel If you wish I’ll give you a more immediate reason.
Bazarov You’re serious! Good God, the man’s serious!
Pavel We will use pistols at a distance of ten paces.
Bazarov I can’t shoot.
Pavel Every gentleman can shoot.
Bazarov I haven’t got a pistol.
Pavel We will use my pistols.
Bazarov I’m not taking part in this, Pavel.
Pavel We will dispe
nse with seconds. I’ll get Piotr to act as witness.
Bazarov Why are you doing this? What is this all –?
Pavel Nobody else need be involved. Tomorrow morning at six, then.
Bazarov Good God Almighty! What in Christ’s name is the – (He stops suddenly because he suddenly knows the reason for the challenge.) You’re jealous, Pavel Petrovich! You saw me kissing Fenichka and you thought –
Pavel Behind the birch plantation. Be there. (He moves away.)
Nikolai appears on the veranda. Neither Pavel nor Bazarov sees him nor hears him.
Nikolai Ah, Pavel. We should both go and have a word with –
Bazarov That’s it! Of course! You’re jealous, Pavel Petrovich! You’re jealous because you’re in love with Fenichka! Oh, my God! (remembering his duel) Oh, my God …
Nikolai retreats into the living-room. Bazarov drops into a seat.
SCENE TWO
The following morning.
Dunyasha is gathering up dishes that are on a table downstage left close to the gazebo. She has only recently stopped crying – her face is red and she is snivelling.
Prokofyich enters from the living-room. He is carrying a case which he leaves upstage left. When Dunyasha sees the case she sobs again.
Prokofyich Get a move on, Dunyasha. Don’t spend all morning picking up a few dishes.
Dunyasha (sotto voce) Shut up, you old get.
Prokofyich I’m talking to you, miss.
Dunyasha (sotto voce) Bugger off.
Prokofyich The guest room is empty – at last. Change the sheets and the pillowcases and sweep the place out thoroughly.
Dunyasha Have I your permission to finish this job first, Prokofyich, sir?
Prokofyich We’ll do without your lip, missy. Then take the mattress and the floor mats and leave them out in the sun for the rest of the day. Maybe they should be fumigated. (to Piotr who has entered with another case) Come on, boy! Move! Move! Move! The sooner this house gets back to normal the better.
Prokofyich goes back into the house. Piotr leaves his case beside the first and goes downstage to join Dunyasha. All the assurance, all the perkiness is gone. He is thoroughly wretched. He has to tell his story to somebody. Dunyasha does not want to listen – she has her own grief. He holds out his hands. They are trembling.
Piotr Look, Dunyasha – look – look – I can’t stop them – look. And my whole body feels as if it’s trembling, too. Give me your hand – put it there (his heart) – it’s galloping like a bloody horse; and about every ten minutes or so it stops – dead.
She ignores him and continues working and snivelling.
Dunyasha Get out of my road, will you!
Piotr What – what – what’s that?
Dunyasha You’re in my way, Piotr!
Piotr (almost in tears) I don’t hear a word you’re saying, Dunyasha. As true as God’s above. I’m as deaf as a post.
Dunyasha So you’ve told me.
Piotr What happened was this –
Dunyasha I don’t want to hear about it.
Piotr Yevgeny was about there and I was about here and the Tailor’s Dummy was about there – (His hands tremble.) – look! – didn’t I tell you – there! – there! – there! God, the sight of this is going to break my mammy’s heart. Anyway, Yevgeny and the Tailor’s Dummy had their backs to one another; and just when they were about to turn to face each other, Yevgeny called me to him and he whispered, ‘How do you cock a gun, Piotr?’ and the sweat’s standing out on his forehead and he’s holding the gun like this and his eyes are half-shut and he’s facing the other way. ‘How do you cock a gun?’ – for Christ’s sake! And I’m standing as close to him as I am to you now and I reach over to pull the hammer back and he sort of turns towards me and whatever messing we’re both at, suddenly, suddenly there’s this huge explosion right beside my cheek –
Prokofyich (on the veranda) Piotr!
Piotr – and I thought, my God, I thought, he’s blown my head off –
Dunyasha You’re wanted, Piotr.
Piotr – because I fell to the ground and I could hear nothing and see nothing and feel nothing. And then the smoke cleared and there, lying across a fallen birch tree, there’s –
Prokofyich has come up behind Piotr and now grips him by the arm.
Prokofyich Are you a guest here, boy?
Piotr What’s that, Prokofyich? I think my drums are ruptured.
Prokofyich (very loudly into his face) Can you hear me now, Piotr?
Piotr Shouting’s no help, Prokofyich.
Prokofyich If you don’t get back to work at once – at once! – I’ll rupture your head, Piotr. Harness the carriage. Bring it round to the back. Now!
He pushes Piotr roughly. Piotr goes off left. Prokofyich now turns to Dunyasha. She is wiping the surface of the table.
That’s all right. Leave it now. No need to make a meal of it. Get upstairs and clean out that guest-room.
As he is about to go off left:
Dunyasha I’m thinking of leaving, Prokofyich.
Prokofyich (without hesitation) Don’t think about it, miss. Just leave.
Dunyasha Well, if I do, I won’t do it just because you would want me to do it. If I do it, I’ll do it because I want to …
But he has already gone. She wipes her nose, lifts her tray and goes towards the house.
Just as she approaches the veranda steps, Arkady and Pavel and Nikolai come out of the living-room. Pavel is very pale and his arm is in a sling.
Arkady comes first, walking backwards. Nikolai holds Pavel’s ‘good’ arm even though Pavel has a walking-stick. Arkady and Nikolai fuss over him as if he were very ill. He is barely able to keep his temper.
Arkady Careful, Uncle Pavel, careful.
Nikolai Watch that step.
Arkady Take it slowly. There’s no rush.
Nikolai (to Dunyasha) Watch, girl. Out of the way.
Arkady Get a cushion, Dunyasha. Two cushions.
She goes into the house.
Nikolai Let me take that stick, Pavel, and you can hold on to my arm.
Arkady (preparing a seat) Here we are, Uncle Pavel.
Nikolai Turn it round. He doesn’t like the direct sun. Splendid. Now get something for his feet.
Pavel (groaning) Oh, my God …
Nikolai (misunderstanding the groan) I know you’re in pain. Hang on for another second. That’s it now, Pavel – here we are. Sink back into that – gently – gently – that’s it – lovely. Can you lean forward a little? (He slips a cushion behind Pavel.) Excellent.
At the same time Arkady puts the second cushion, which Dunyasha has brought, on a stool and slips the stool under Pavel’s feet.
Thank you, Arkady. Now we’re more comfortable, aren’t we?
Dunyasha leaves.
Arkady Should I get a lower stool?
Nikolai I think that’s about right, (to Pavel) That bandage isn’t too tight, is it?
Arkady He lost a lot of blood, you know.
Nikolai As long as the fingers are free to –
Pavel (almost a shout) Please! (now softly and controlled) S’il vous plaît. I got a superficial cut. I lost a few drops of blood. I am properly bandaged. I am in no pain.
Nikolai Pavel, you have been through a shocking –
Pavel I am perfectly well and perfectly comfortable, thank you very much, and I would be very grateful if both of you would leave me alone now. There’s a green-backed book sitting on the couch in the conservatory, Arkady. Would you bring it to me?
Arkady goes into the house. Pause.
I owe you an apology, Nikolai. I am sorry to have caused all this … upset. I apologize. I won’t mention it again. (Pause. He puts perfume on his hands.) If anybody’s going into town today, I’d be grateful if they’d get me some eau-de-Cologne. (Pause.) I overhead young Katya talking to her sister yesterday afternoon. She referred to me as ‘beau-de-Cologne’. Not bad, I thought. I like that little lady. Spirited. (Pause.) And I understand Bazaro
v is leaving us.
Nikolai Why did you have the duel with him, Pavel?
Pavel It was my fault entirely.
Nikolai What did you fight about?
Pavel We had a political disagreement.
Nikolai What about?
Pavel I don’t wish to discuss it further, Nikolai.
Nikolai I would like you to tell me exactly what the disagreement was about, Pavel.
Arkady returns with the book.
Arkady The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne – is this it?
Pavel Set in Scotland. The wonderful Mrs Ann Ward Radcliffe. She’s charming – she understands nothing.
Arkady There’s something I’d like to say, Uncle Pavel. Formally. In my father’s presence.
Pavel Oh dear – a manifesto.
Arkady Because I brought Bazarov to this house, I feel at least partly responsible for whatever happened this morning – I know now I shouldn’t have brought him here in the first place but –
Nikolai Nonsense, Arkady. This is your home.
Arkady I’m trying to be rational and fair, Father. Our friendship was very important to me. It still is. So I want to be fair to that friendship and at the same time I don’t want to judge anybody quickly or rashly. So I’m afraid I must ask you, Uncle Pavel, to tell me exactly, if you would, please, exactly what –
Pavel Exactly – exactly – exactly! Why this sudden passion for exactitude? Very well. Let’s get the damned thing said once and for all. But first I want a promise from you both that what I am going to tell you will not be repeated by either of you to anybody. Do I have that assurance?
They both nod.
Arkady Of course you do.
Pavel Well. Monsieur Bazarov and I were talking about English politicians. About Sir Robert Peel, to be exact, and his family background. I said Peel’s father was a wealthy land-owner. Bazarov said he was a cotton manufacturer. I’ve looked it up since. I was wrong. Bazarov was in the right. Not that that matters – the issue itself was trivial. But one word, as they say, borrowed another. Tempers, as they say, too, flared. In a moment of irrationality I challenged him to a duel. He was astonished – naturally. And he met me this morning merely to flatter my pathetic pride. All in all he behaved admirably. His gun went off accidentally. I fired into the air. I have acquired some respect for Monsieur Bazarov. Some modest respect. (Pause.) I will never mention that episode ever again. (Pause.) Now will somebody please tell my why Prokofyich is stumping about the house like an enraged beast?
