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by Anton Chekhov


  VOYNITSKY. Age has nothing to do with it. When real life is missing, one must create an illusion. It is better than nothing.

  SONYA. Our hay is all cut and rotting in these daily rains, and here you are busy creating illusions! You've given up the farm altogether. I've done all the work alone until I'm at the end of my strength -- [Frightened] Uncle! Your eyes are full of tears!

  VOYNITSKY. Tears? Nonsense, there are no tears in my eyes. You looked at me then just as your dead mother used to, my darling -- [He eagerly kisses her face and hands] My sister, my dearest sister, where are you now? Ah, if you only knew, if you only knew!

  SONYA. If she only knew what, Uncle?

  VOYNITSKY. My heart is bursting. It's awful. No matter, though. I must go. [He goes out.]

  SONYA. [Knocks at the door] Dr. Astrov! Are you awake? Please come here for a minute.

  ASTROV. [Behind the door] In a moment.

  He appears after a short delay. He has put on his tie and waistcoat.

  ASTROV. What do you want?

  SONYA. Drink as much as you want to, if you don't find it revolting, but I implore you not to let my uncle do it. It's bad for him.

  ASTROV. Very well; we won't drink any more. [A pause] I'm going home at once. It's all settled. It'll be dawn by the time the horses are harnessed.

  SONYA. It's still raining; wait till morning.

  ASTROV. The storm's blowing over. This is only the edge of it. I must go. And please don't ask me to come and see your father any more. I tell him he has gout, and he says it is rheumatism. I tell him to lie down, and he sits up. Today he refused to see me at all.

  SONYA. He has been spoilt. [She looks in the sideboard] Won't you have a bite to eat?

  ASTROV. Yes, please. I believe I will.

  SONYA. I love to eat at night. I'm sure we shall find something in here. They say that he has made a great many conquests in his life, and that the women have spoiled him. Here's some cheese for you.

  [They stand eating by the sideboard.]

  ASTROV. I haven't eaten anything today. I've just been drinking. Your father has a very difficult nature. [He takes a bottle out of the sideboard] May I? [He pours himself a glass of vodka and drinks] We're alone here, and I can speak frankly. Do you know, I couldn't stand living in this house for even a month? This atmosphere would stifle me. There's your father, entirely absorbed in his books, and his gout; there's your Uncle Vanya with his depression, your grandmother, and finally, your step-mother --

  SONYA. What about her?

  ASTROV. A human being should be beautiful in every way: the face, the clothes, the mind, the thoughts. Your step-mother is, of course, beautiful to look at, but don't you see? She does nothing but sleep and eat and walk and bewitch us, and that's all. She has no responsibilities, everything is done for her -- am I not right? There's no integrity in an idle life. [A pause] However, I may be judging her too severely. Like your Uncle Vanya, I'm discontented, and so we're both grumblers.

  SONYA. Aren't you satisfied with life, then?

  ASTROV. I like life in general, but I hate and despise it in a little Russian country village, and as far as my own personal life goes, by heaven! there's absolutely no redeeming feature about it. Haven't you noticed if you are riding through a dark wood at night and see a little light shining ahead, how you forget your fatigue and the darkness and the sharp twigs that whip your face? I work, you well know, as no one else in the district works. Fate beats me on without rest; at times I suffer unendurably and I see no light ahead. I have no hope; I don't like people. It's a long time since I've loved any one.

  SONYA. You love no one?

  ASTROV. Not a soul. I only feel a sort of tenderness for your old nanny for old-times' sake. The peasants are all alike; they're stupid and live in dirt, and the educated people are hard to get along with. One gets tired of them. All our good friends are petty and shallow and see no farther than their own noses; in one word, they're stupid. Those that have brains and more to offer are hysterical, devoured with a mania for self-analysis. They whine, they hate, they pick faults everywhere with unhealthy sharpness. They sneak up to me sideways, look at me out of a corner of the eye, and say: "That man is a lunatic," "That man is a wind-bag." Or, if they don't know what else to label me with, they say I am strange, odd. I like forests, so that's strange. I don't eat meat; that's strange, too. Simple, natural relations between man and man, or man and nature, don't exist. [He tries to take a drink; SONYA prevents him.]

  SONYA. I beg you, I implore you, don't drink any more!

  ASTROV. Why not?

  SONYA. It's so unworthy of you. You're well-bred, your voice is sweet, you're so different from everyone else I know -- you're a fine, good man. Why do you want to be like the common people that drink and play cards? Oh, don't, I beg you! You always say that people don't create anything, but only destroy what heaven has given them. Why, oh, why, do you destroy yourself? Oh, don't, I implore you not to! I entreat you!

  ASTROV. [Gives her his hand] I won't drink any more.

  SONYA. Promise me.

  ASTROV. I give you my word of honour.

  SONYA. [Squeezing his hand] Thank you.

  ASTROV. I've done with it. You see, I'm perfectly sober again, and so I shall stay till the end of my life. [He looks his watch] But, as I was saying, life holds nothing for me; my race is run. I'm old, I'm tired, I'm mediocre; my sensibilities are dead. I could never attach myself to any one again. I love no one, and never shall! Beauty alone has the power to touch me still. I am deeply moved by it. Helena could turn my head in a day if she wanted to, but that's not love, that's not affection --

  [He shudders and covers his face with his hands.]

  SONYA. What is it?

  ASTROV. Nothing. During Lent one of my patients died under chloroform.

  SONYA. It's time to forget that. [A pause] Tell me, doctor, if I had a friend or a younger sister, and if you knew that she, well -- loved you, what would you do?

  ASTROV. [Shrugging his shoulders] I don't know. I don't think I should do anything. I should make her understand that I couldn't return her love -- after all, I've got other things on my mind. I must start at once -- it's time for me to go. Good-bye, my dear girl. At this rate we'll stand here talking till morning. [He shakes hands with her] I'll go out through the sitting-room, because I'm afraid your uncle might detain me. [He goes out.]

  SONYA. [Alone] Not a word from him! His heart and soul are still hidden from me, and yet for some reason I'm strangely happy. I wonder why? [She laughs with pleasure] I told him that he was a good man and that his voice was sweet. Was that the proper thing to do? I can still feel his voice vibrating in the air; it caresses me. [Wringing her hands] Oh! how terrible it is that I'm not pretty! I'm plain, I know it. As I came out of church last Sunday I heard people talking about me and I overheard a woman say, "She's a nice, kind girl, but what a pity she's so ugly!" So ugly!

  HELENA comes in and throws open the window.

  HELENA. The storm is over. What delicious air! [A pause] Where's the doctor?

  SONYA. He's gone. [A pause.]

  HELENA. Sonya!

  SONYA. Yes?

  HELENA. How much longer are you going to sulk at me? We haven't hurt each other. Why not be friends? It's time we ended this.

  SONYA. I've wanted to -- [She embraces HELENA] Let's make peace.

  HELENA. Oh, that's splendid. [They are both moved.]

  SONYA. Has papa gone to bed?

  HELENA. No, he is sitting up in the drawing-room. Heaven knows what reason you and I had for not speaking to each other for weeks. [Sees the open sideboard] What's this?

  SONYA. Dr. Astrov has just had supper.

  HELENA. There's some wine. Let's seal our friendship.

  SONYA. Yes, let's.

  HELENA. Out of one glass. [She fills a wine-glass] It's better like this. So, we're friends, are we?

  SONYA. Yes. [They drink and kiss each other] I've long wanted to make friends, but somehow, I was ashamed to. [She w
eeps.]

  HELENA. Why are you crying?

  SONYA. I don't know. It's nothing.

  HELENA. There, there, don't cry. [She weeps] Silly! Now I'm crying too. [A pause] You're angry with me because I seem to have married your father for selfish reasons. I swear to you, if that means anything to you, that I married him for love. I was fascinated by his fame and learning. I know now that it was not real love, but it seemed real at the time. I'm innocent, and yet your clever, suspicious eyes have been punishing me for an imaginary crime ever since my marriage.

  SONYA. Peace, peace! Let us forget the past.

  HELENA. You must not look at people that way. It's not becoming to you. You must trust people, or life becomes impossible. [A pause]

  SONYA. Tell me truly, as a friend, are you happy?

  HELENA. Truly, no.

  SONYA. I knew it. One more question, tell me frankly, do you wish your husband were young?

  HELENA. What a child you are! Of course I do. [Laughs] Go on, ask me something else.

  SONYA. Do you like the doctor?

  HELENA. Yes, very much indeed.

  SONYA. [Laughing] I have a stupid look on my face, haven't I? He's just gone out, and his voice is still in my ears; I hear his step; I see his face in the dark window. Let me say all I have in my heart! But no, I can't speak of it so loudly. I'm ashamed. Come to my room and let me tell you there. I seem foolish to you, don't I? Talk to me about him.

  HELENA. What can I say?

  SONYA. He is intelligent. He can do everything. He can cure the sick, and plant forests.

  HELENA. It is not a question of medicine and forests, my dear, he is a man of genius. Do you know what that means? It means he is brave, profound, and has great vision. He plants a tree and his mind travels a thousand years into the future, and he sees visions of the happiness of the human race. People like him are rare and should be cherished. What if he does drink and act roughly at times? A man of genius cannot be a saint in Russia. There he lives, cut off from the world by cold and storm and endless roads of bottomless mud, surrounded by a rough people who are crushed by poverty and disease, his life one continuous struggle, with never a day's respite; how can a man live like that for forty years and keep himself sober and unspotted? [Kissing SONYA] I wish you happiness with all my heart; you deserve it. [She gets up] As for me, I'm a tiresome, unimportant person. In music, in romance, in my husband's house -- everywhere, in fact, I've always been an unimportant person. When you come to think of it, Sonya, the truth is -- I'm really very, very unhappy. [Walks excitedly up and down] Happiness can never exist for me in this world. Never. Why do you laugh?

  SONYA. [Laughing and covering her face with her hands] I am so happy, so happy!

  HELENA. I want to play the piano now. I might play a little something now.

  SONYA. Oh, do, do! [She embraces her] I couldn't possibly go to sleep now. Do play!

  HELENA. In a minute. Your father is still awake. Music irritates him when he's ill, but if he says I may, then I'll play a little. Go, Sonya, and ask him.

  SONYA. Very well.

  [She goes out. The WATCHMAN'S rattle is heard in the garden.]

  HELENA. It's a long time since I've played anything. And now, I'll sit and play, and cry like a silly girl. [Speaking out of the window] Is that you rattling out there, Yefim?

  VOICE OF THE WATCHMAN. It's me.

  HELENA. Don't make such a noise. Your master is ill.

  VOICE: OF THE WATCHMAN. I'm going away this minute. [Whistles a tune.] Hey you dogs, Zhuckha, Malchik!

  SONYA. [Comes back] He says, no.

  The curtain falls.

  ACT III

  The drawing-room of SEREBRYAKOV'S house. There are three doors: one to the right, one to the left, and one in the centre of the room. VOYNITSKY and SONYA are sitting down. HELENA is walking up and down, absorbed in thought.

  VOYNITSKY. We were requested by the Herr Professor to be here at one o'clock. [Looks at his watch] It's now a quarter to one. It seems he has some communication to make to the world.

  HELENA. Probably a matter of business.

  VOYNITSKY. He's never had any business. He writes nonsense, grumbles, and eats his heart out with jealousy; that's all he does.

  SONYA. [Reproachfully] Uncle!

  VOYNITSKY. All right. I beg your pardon. [He points to HELENA] Look at her. Wandering around and ready to fall over from sheer idleness. A sweet picture, really.

  HELENA. I wonder you're not tired, droning on in the same key from morning till night. [Despairingly] I'm dying of this boredom. What'll I do?

  SONYA. [Shrugging her shoulders] There's plenty to do if you would.

  HELENA. For instance?

  SONYA. You could help run this place, teach the children, care for the sick -- isn't that enough? Before you and papa came, Uncle Vanya and I used to go to market ourselves to sell our own flour.

  HELENA. I don't know anything about such things, and besides, they don't interest me. It's only in idealistic novels that women go out and teach and heal the peasants; how can I suddenly begin to do it?

  SONYA. How can you live here and not do it? Wait awhile, you'll get used to it all. [Embraces her] Don't be bored, dearest. [Laughing] You feel miserable and restless, and can't seem to fit into this life, and your restlessness is infectious. Look at Uncle Vanya, he does nothing now but follow you like a shadow, and I have left my work today to come here and talk with you. I'm getting lazy, and don't want to go on with anything. Dr. Astrov hardly ever used to come here; it was all we could do to persuade him to visit us once a month, and now he's abandoned his forestry and his practice, and comes every day. You must be a witch.

  VOYNITSKY. Why are you so down? [Vigorously] Come, my dearest, my beauty, be sensible! The blood of a mermaid runs in your veins. Oh, won't you let yourself be one? Give free rein to your nature for once in your life; fall head over heels in love with some other water sprite and plunge down head first into a deep pool, so that the Herr Professor and all of us just throw up our hands.

  HELENA. [Angrily] Leave me alone! How cruel you are! [She tries to go out.]

  VOYNITSKY. [Preventing her] There, there, my beauty, I apologise. [He kisses her hand] Forgive me.

  HELENA. Confess it -- you'd try the patience of an angel.

  VOYNITSKY. As a peace offering I'm going to fetch a bouquet of flowers which I picked for you this morning: some autumn roses, beautiful, sorrowful roses. [He goes out.]

  SONYA. Autumn roses, beautiful, sorrowful roses!

  [She and HELENA stand looking out of the window.]

  HELENA. September already! How shall we live through the long winter here? [A pause] Where's the doctor?

  SONYA. He's writing in Uncle Vanya's room. I'm glad Uncle Vanya has gone out, I want to talk to you about something.

  HELENA. About what?

  SONYA. About what? [She lays her head on HELENA'S breast.]

  HELENA. There, there, that will do. [Stroking her hair] Don't, Sonya.

  SONYA. I'm ugly!

  HELENA. You have lovely hair.

  SONYA. No! [She turns to look at herself in the mirror] No, when a woman is ugly they always say she has beautiful hair or eyes. I've loved him now for six years, I've loved him more than one loves one's mother. I seem to hear him beside me every moment of the day. I feel the pressure of his hand on mine. If I look up, I seem to see him coming, and as you see, I run to you to talk of him. He's here every day now, but he never looks at me, he doesn't notice my presence. It's agony. I have absolutely no hope, no, no hope. [Desperately] Oh, my God! Give me strength to endure. I prayed all last night. I often go up to him and speak to him and look into his eyes. My pride is gone. My self-control. Yesterday I couldn't control myself and told Uncle Vanya I was in love, and all the servants know it. Every one knows that I love him.

  HELENA. Does he?

  SONYA. No, he never notices me.

  HELENA. [Thoughtfully] He's a strange man. Listen, Sonya, will you allow me to speak to him? I'll b
e careful, only hint. [A pause] Really, to be in uncertainty all these years! Let me do it!

  SONYA nods an affirmative.

  HELENA. Good! It'll be easy to find out whether he loves you or not. Don't be ashamed, sweetheart, don't worry. I'll be careful; he won't notice a thing. We only want to find out whether it is yes or no, don't we? [A pause] And if it is no, then he must stop coming here, is that so?

  SONYA nods.

  HELENA. It will be easier not to see him any more. We won't put off the examination an instant. He said he had some sketches to show me. Go and tell him at once that I want to see him.

  SONYA. [Very agitated] Will you tell me the whole truth?

  HELENA. Of course I will. I am sure that no matter what it is, the truth will be easier for you to bear than this uncertainty. Trust me, dearest.

  SONYA. Yes, yes. I'll say that you want to see his sketches. [She starts out, but stops near the door and looks back] No, it is better not to know -- at least -- then there may be hope.

  HELENA. What do you say?

  SONYA. Nothing. [She goes out.]

  HELENA. [Alone] There's no greater sorrow than to know another's secret when you can't help them. [In deep thought] He's obviously not in love with her, but why shouldn't he marry her? She's not pretty, but she's so clever and pure and good, she would make a splendid wife for a country doctor of his years. But, no, that' s not exactly it at all. [A pause] I can understand how the poor child feels. She lives here in this desperate loneliness with no one around her except these colourless shadows that go mooning about talking nonsense and knowing nothing except that they eat, drink, and sleep. Among them appears from time to time this Dr. Astrov, so different, so handsome, so interesting, so charming. It's like seeing the moon rise on a dark night. Oh, to surrender oneself to his embrace! To lose oneself in his arms! I'm a little in love with him myself! Yes, I'm lonely without him, and when I think of him I smile. That Uncle Vanya says I have the blood of a mermaid in my veins: "Give free rein to your nature for once in your life!" Perhaps it's right that I should. Oh, to be free as a bird, to fly away from all your sleepy faces and your talk and forget that you have existed at all! But I'm a coward, I'm afraid; my conscience torments me. He comes here every day now. I can guess why, and feel guilty already; I should like to fall on my knees at Sonya's feet and beg her forgiveness, and to cry.

 

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