Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series

MERIK. Just throw a glance at him, with only one eye if you like! Or say only just one kind little word to him! God’s own sake!

MARIA EGOROVNA. Take away this… fool.

MERIK. Then the devil take you, you accursed woman!

[He swings his axe. General confusion. Everybody jumps up noisily and with cries of horror. SAVVA stands between MERIK and MARIA EGOROVNA… DENIS forces MERIK to one side and carries out his mistress. After this all stand as if turned to stone. A prolonged pause. BORTSOV suddenly waves his hands in the air.]

BORTSOV. Marie… where are you, Marie!

NAZAROVNA. My God, my God! You’ve torn up my your murderers! What an accursed night!

MERIK. [Lowering his hand; he still holds the axe] Did I kill her or no?

HIGH ROAD

TIHON. Thank God, your head is safe…

MERIK. Then I didn’t kill her… [Totters to his bed] Fate hasn’t sent me to my death because of a stolen axe… [Falls down and sobs] Woe! Woe is me! Have pity on me, Orthodox people!

Curtain

THE PROPOSAL

CHARACTERS

STEPAN STEPANOVITCH CHUBUKOV, a landowner

NATALYA STEPANOVNA, his daughter, twenty-five years old

IVAN VASSILEVITCH LOMOV, a neighbour of Chubukov, a large and hearty, but very suspicious landowner

The scene is laid at CHUBUKOV’s country-house

A drawing-room in CHUBUKOV’S house.

[LOMOV enters, wearing a dress-jacket and white gloves. CHUBUKOV rises to meet him.]

CHUBUKOV. My dear fellow, whom do I see! Ivan Vassilevitch! I am extremely glad! [Squeezes his hand] Now this is a surprise, my darling… How are you?

LOMOV. Thank you. And how may you be getting on?

CHUBUKOV. We just get along somehow, my angel, to your prayers, and so on. Sit down, please do… Now, you know, you shouldn’t forget all about your neighbours, my darling. My dear fellow, why are you so formal in your get-up? Evening dress, gloves, and so on. Can you be going anywhere, my treasure?

LOMOV. No, I’ve come only to see you, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch.

CHUBUKOV. Then why are you in evening dress, my precious? As if you’re paying a New Year’s Eve visit!

LOMOV. Well, you see, it’s like this. [Takes his arm] I’ve come to you, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch, to trouble you with a request. Not once or twice have I already had the privilege of applying to you for help, and you have always, so to speak… I must ask your pardon, I am getting excited. I shall drink some water, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch. [Drinks.]

CHUBUKOV. [Aside] He’s come to borrow money! Shan’t give him any! [Aloud] What is it, my beauty?

LOMOV. You see, Honour Stepanitch… I beg pardon, Stepan Honouritch… I mean, I’m awfully excited, as you will please notice… In short, you alone can help me, though I don’t deserve it, of course… and haven’t any right to count on your assistance…

CHUBUKOV. Oh, don’t go round and round it, darling! Spit it out! Well?

LOMOV. One moment… this very minute. The fact is, I’ve come to ask the hand of your daughter, Natalya Stepanovna, in marriage.

CHUBUKOV. [Joyfully] By Jove! Ivan Vassilevitch! Say it again – I didn’t hear it all!

LOMOV. I have the honour to ask…

CHUBUKOV. [Interrupting] My dear fellow… I’m so glad, and so on… Yes, indeed, and all that sort of thing. [Embraces and kisses LOMOV] I’ve been hoping for it for a long time. It’s been my continual desire. [Sheds a tear] And I’ve always loved you, my angel, as if you were my own son. May God give you both His help and His love and so on, and I did so much hope… What am I behaving in this idiotic way for? I’m off my balance with joy, absolutely off my balance! Oh, with all my soul… I’ll go and call Natasha, and all that.

LOMOV. [Greatly moved] Honoured Stepan Stepanovitch, do you think I may count on her consent?

CHUBUKOV. Why, of course, my darling, and… as if she won’t consent! She’s in love; egad, she’s like a love-sick cat, and so on… Shan’t be long! [Exit.]

LOMOV. It’s cold… I’m trembling all over, just as if I’d got an examination before me. The great thing is, I must have my mind made up. If I give myself time to think, to hesitate, to talk a lot, to look for an ideal, or for real love, then I’ll never get married… Brr!.. It’s cold! Natalya Stepanovna is an excellent housekeeper, not bad-looking, well-educated… What more do I want? But I’m getting a noise in my ears from excitement. [Drinks] And it’s impossible for me not to marry… In the first place, I’m already 35 – a critical age, so to speak. In the second place, I ought to lead a quiet and regular life… I suffer from palpitations, I’m excitable and always getting awfully upset… At this very moment my lips are trembling, and there’s a twitch in my right eyebrow… But the very worst of all is the way I sleep. I no sooner get into bed and begin to go off when suddenly something in my left side – gives a pull, and I can feel it in my shoulder and head… I jump up like a lunatic, walk about a bit, and lie down again, but as soon as I begin to get off to sleep there’s another pull! And this may happen twenty times…

[NATALYA STEPANOVNA comes in.]

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Well, there! It’s you, and papa said, “Go; there’s a merchant come for his goods.” How do you do, Ivan Vassilevitch!

LOMOV. How do you do, honoured Natalya Stepanovna?

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. You must excuse my apron and négligé… we’re shelling peas for drying. Why haven’t you been here for such a long time? Sit down. [They seat themselves] Won’t you have some lunch?

LOMOV. No, thank you, I’ve had some already.

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Then smoke… Here are the matches… The weather is splendid now, but yesterday it was so wet that the workmen didn’t do anything all day. How much hay have you stacked? Just think, I felt greedy and had a whole field cut, and now I’m not at all pleased about it because I’m afraid my hay may rot. I ought to have waited a bit. But what’s this? Why, you’re in evening dress! Well, I never! Are you going to a ball, or what? – though I must say you look better. Tell me, why are you got up like that?

LOMOV. [Excited] You see, honoured Natalya Stepanovna… the fact is, I’ve made up my mind to ask you to hear me out… Of course you’ll be surprised and perhaps even angry, but a… [Aside] It’s awfully cold!

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What’s the matter? [Pause] Well?

LOMOV. I shall try to be brief. You must know, honoured Natalya Stepanovna, that I have long, since my childhood, in fact, had the privilege of knowing your family. My late aunt and her husband, from whom, as you know, I inherited my land, always had the greatest respect for your father and your late mother. The Lomovs and the Chubukovs have always had the most friendly, and I might almost say the most affectionate, regard for each other. And, as you know, my land is a near neighbour of yours. You will remember that my Oxen Meadows touch your birchwoods.

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Excuse my interrupting you. You say, “my Oxen Meadows…” But are they yours?

LOMOV. Yes, mine.

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. What are you talking about? Oxen Meadows are ours, not yours!

LOMOV. No, mine, honoured Natalya Stepanovna.

NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Well, I never knew that before. How do you make that out?

LOMOV. How? I’m speaking of those Oxen Meadows which are wedged in between your birchwoods and the Burnt Marsh.