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Uncle Vanya

by Anton Checkov

May, 1999 [Etext #1756]

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Uncle Vanya

by Anton Checkov

UNCLE VANYA

SCENES FROM COUNTRY LIFE

IN FOUR ACTS

CHARACTERS

ALEXANDER SEREBRAKOFF, a retired professor

HELENA, his wife, twenty-seven years old

SONIA, his daughter by a former marriage

MME. VOITSKAYA, widow of a privy councilor, and mother of

Serebrakoff's first wife

IVAN (VANYA) VOITSKI, her son

MICHAEL ASTROFF, a doctor

ILIA (WAFFLES) TELEGIN, an impoverished landowner

MARINA, an old nurse

A WORKMAN

The scene is laid on SEREBRAKOFF'S country place

UNCLE VANYA

ACT I

A country house on a terrace. In front of it a garden. In an

avenue of trees, under an old poplar, stands a table set for tea,

with a samovar, etc. Some benches and chairs stand near the

table. On one of them is lying a guitar. A hammock is swung near

the table. It is three o'clock in the afternoon of a cloudy day.

MARINA, a quiet, grey-haired, little old woman, is sitting at the

table knitting a stocking.

ASTROFF is walking up and down near her.

MARINA. [Pouring some tea into a glass] Take a little tea, my

son.

ASTROFF. [Takes the glass from her unwillingly] Somehow, I don't

seem to want any.

MARINA. Then will you have a little vodka instead?

ASTROFF. No, I don't drink vodka every day, and besides, it is

too hot now. [A pause] Tell me, nurse, how lo ng have we known

each other?

MARINA. [Thoughtfully] Let me see, how long is it? Lord--help me

to remember. You first came here, into our parts--let me

think--when was it? Sonia's mother was still alive--it was two

winters before she died; that was eleven years

ago--[thoughtfully] perhaps more.

ASTROFF. Have I changed much since then?

MARINA. Oh, yes. You were handsome and young then, and now you

are an old man and not handsome any more. You drink, too.

ASTROFF. Yes, ten years have made me another man. And why?

Because I am overworked. Nurse, I am on my feet from dawn till

dusk. I know no rest; at night I tremble under my blankets for

fear of being dragged out to visit some one who is sick; I have

toiled without repose or a day's freedom since I have known you;

could I help growing old? And then, existence is tedious, anyway;

it is a senseless, dirty business, this life, and goes heavily.

Every one about here is silly, and after living with them for two

or three years one grows silly oneself. It is inevitable.

[Twisting his moustache] See what a long moustache I have grown.

A foolish, long moustache. Yes, I am as silly as the rest, nurse,

but not as stupid; no, I have not grown stupid. Thank God, my

brain is not addled yet, though my feelings have grown numb. I

ask nothing, I need nothing, I love no one, unless it is yourself

alone. [He kisses her head] I had a nurse just like you when I

was a child.

MARINA. Don't you want a bite of something to eat?

ASTROFF. No. During the third week of Lent I went to the epidemic

at Malitskoi. It was eruptive typhoid. The peasants were all

lying side by side in their huts, and the calves and pigs were

running about the floor among the sick. Such dirt there was, and

smoke! Unspeakable! I slaved among those people all day, not a

crumb passed my lips, but when I got home there was still no rest

for me; a switchman was carried in from the railroad; I laid him

on the operating table and he went and died in my arms under

chloroform, and then my feelings that should have been deadened

awoke again, my conscience tortured me as if I had killed the

man. I sat down and closed my eyes--like this--and thought: will

our descendants two hundred years from now, for whom we are

breaking the road, remember to give us a kind word? No, nurse,

they will forget.

MARINA. Man is forgetful, but God remembers.

ASTROFF. Thank you for that. You have spoken the truth.

Enter VOITSKI from the house. He has been asleep after dinner and

looks rather dishevelled. He sits down on the bench and

straightens his collar.

VOITSKI. H'm. Yes. [A pause] Yes.

ASTROFF. Have you been asleep?

VOITSKI. Yes, very much so. [He yawns] Ever since the Professor

and his wife have come, our daily life seems to have jumped the

track. I sleep at the wrong time, drink wine, and eat all sorts

of messes for luncheon and dinner. It isn't wholesome. Sonia and

I used to work together and never had an idle moment, but now

Sonia works alone and I only eat and drink and sleep. Something

is wrong.

MARINA. [Shaking her head] Such a confusion in the house! The

Professor gets up at twelve, the samovar is kept boiling all the

morning, and everything has to wait for him. Before they came we

used to have dinner at one o'clock, like everybody else, but now

we have it at seven. The Professor sits up all night writing and

reading, and suddenly, at two o'clock, there goes the bell!

Heavens, what is that? The Professor wants some tea! Wake the

servants, light the samovar! Lord, what disorder!

ASTROFF. Will they be here long?

VOITSKI. A hundred years! The Professor has decided to make his

home here.

MARINA. Look at this now! The samovar has been on the table for

two hours, and they are all out walking!

VOITSKI. All right, don't get excited; here they come.

Voices are heard approaching. SEREBRAKOFF, HELENA, SONIA, and

TELEGIN come in from the depths of the garden, returning from

their walk.

SEREBRAKOFF. Superb! Superb! What beautiful views!

TELEGIN. They are wonderful, your Excellency.

SONIA. To-morrow we shall go into the woods, shall we, papa?

VOITSKI. Ladies and gentlemen, tea is ready.

SEREBRAKOFF. Won't you please be good enough to send my tea into

the library? I still have some work to finish.

SONIA. I am sure you will love the woods.

HELENA, SEREBRAKOFF, and SONIA go into the house. TELEGIN sits

down at the table beside MARINA.

VOITSKI. There goes our learned scholar on a hot, sultry day like

this, in his overcoat and goloshes and carrying an umbrella!

ASTROFF. He is trying to take good care of his health.

VOITSKI. How lovely she is! How lovely! I have never in my life

seen a more beautiful woman.

TELEGIN. Do you know, Marina, that as I walk in the fields or in

the shady garden, as I look at this table here, my heart swells

with unbounded happiness. The weather is enchanting, the birds

are singing, we are all living in peace and contentment--what

more could the soul desire? [Takes a glass of tea.]

VOITSKI. [Dreaming] Such eyes--a glorious woman!

ASTROFF. Come, Ivan, tell us something.

VOITSKI. [Indolently] What shall I tell you?

ASTROFF. Haven't you any news for us?

VOITSKI. No, it is all stale. I am just the same as usual, or

perhaps worse, because I have become lazy. I don't do anything

now but croak like an old raven. My mother, the old magpie, is

still chattering about the emancipation of woman, with one eye on

her grave and the other on her learned books, in which she is

always looking for the dawn of a new life.

ASTROFF. And the Professor?

VOITSKI. The Professor sits in his library from morning till

night, as usual--

"Straining the mind, wrinkling the brow,

We write, write, write,

Without respite

Or hope of praise in the future or now."

Poor paper! He ought to write his autobiography; he would make a

really splendid subject for a book! Imagine it, the life of a

retired professor, as stale as a piece of hardtack, tortured by

gout, headaches, and rheumatism, his liver bursting with jealousy

and envy, living on the estate of his first wife, although he

hates it, because he can't afford to live in town. He is

everlastingly whining about his hard lot, though, as a matter of

fact, he is extraordinarily lucky. He is the son of a common

deacon and has attained the professor's chair, become the

son-in-law of a senator, is called "your Excellency," and so on.

But I'll tell you something; the man has been writing on art for

twenty-five years, and he doesn't know the very first thing about

it. For twenty-five years he has been chewing on other men's

thoughts about realism, naturalism, and all such foolishness; for

twenty-five years he has been reading and writing things that

clever men have long known and stupid ones are not interested in;

for twenty-five years he has been making his imaginary mountains

out of molehills. And just think of the man's self-conceit and

presumption all this time! For twenty-five years he has been

masquerading in false clothes and has now retired absolutely

unknown to any living soul; and yet see him! stalking across the

earth like a demi-god!

ASTROFF. I believe you envy him.

VOITSKI. Yes, I do. Look at the success he has had with women!

Don Juan himself was not more favoured. His first wife, who was

my sister, was a beautiful, gentle being, as pure as the blue

heaven there above us, noble, great-hearted, with more admirers

than he has pupils, and she loved him as only beings of angelic

purity can love those who are as pure and beautiful as

themselves. His mother-in-law, my mother, adores him to this day,

and he still inspires a sort of worshipful awe in her. His second

wife is, as you see, a brilliant beauty; she married him in his

old age and has surrendered all the glory of her beauty and

freedom to him. Why? What for?

ASTROFF. Is she faithful to him?

VOITSKI. Yes, unfortunately she is.

ASTROFF. Why unfortunately?

VOITSKI. Because such fidelity is false and unnatural, root and

branch. It sounds well, but there is no logic in it. It is

thought immoral for a woman to deceive an old husband whom she

hates, but quite moral for her to strangle her poor youth in her

breast and banish every vital d esire from her heart.

TELEGIN. [In a tearful voice] Vanya, I don't like to hear you

talk so. Listen, Vanya; every one who betrays husband or wife is

faithless, and could also betray his country.

VOITSKI. [Crossly] Turn off the tap, Waffles.

TELEGIN. No, allow me, Vanya. My wife ran away with a lover on

the day after our wedding, because my exterior was

unprepossessing. I have never failed in my duty since then. I

love her and am true to her to this day. I help her all I can and

have given my fortune to educate the daughter of herself and her

lover. I have forfeited my happiness, but I have kept my pride.

And she? Her youth has fled, her beauty has faded according to

the laws of nature, and her lover is dead. What has she kept?

HELENA and SONIA come in; after them comes MME. VOITSKAYA

carrying a book. She sits down and begins to read. Some one hands

her a glass of tea which she drinks without looking up.

SONIA. [Hurriedly, to the nurse] There are some peasants waiting

out there. Go and see what they want. I shall pour the tea.

[Pours out some glasses of tea.]

MARINA goes out. HELENA takes a glass and sits drinking in the

hammock.

ASTROFF. I have come to see your husband. You wrote me that he

had rheumatism and I know not what else, and that he was very

ill, but he appears to be as lively as a cricket.

HELENA. He had a fit of the blues yesterday evening and

complained of pains in his legs, but he seems all right again

to-day.

ASTROFF. And I galloped over here twenty miles at break-neck

speed! No matter, though, it is not the first time. Once here,

however, I am going to stay until to-morrow, and at any rate

sleep _quantum satis._

SONIA. Oh, splendid! You so seldom spend the night with us. Have

you had dinner yet?

ASTROFF. No.

SONIA. Good. So you will have it with us. We dine at seven now.

[Drinks her tea] This tea is cold!

TELEGIN. Yes, the samovar has grown cold.

HELENA. Don't mind, Monsieur Ivan, we will drink cold tea, then.

TELEGIN. I beg your pardon, my name is not Ivan, but Ilia,

ma'am--Ilia Telegin, or Waffles, as I am sometimes called on

account of my pock-marked face. I am Sonia's godfather, and his

Excellency, your husband, knows me very well. I now live with

you, ma'am, on this estate, and perhaps you will be so good as to

notice that I dine with you every day.

SONIA. He is our great help, our right-hand man. [Tenderly] Dear

godfather, let me pour you some tea.

MME. VOITSKAYA. Oh! Oh!

SONIA. What is it, grandmother?

MME. VOITSKAYA. I forgot to tell Alexander--I have lost my

memory--I received a letter to-day from Paul Alexevitch in

Kharkoff. He has sent me a new pamphlet.

ASTROFF. Is it interesting?

MME. VOITSKAYA. Yes, but strange. He refutes the very theories

which he defended seven years ago. It is appalling!

VOITSKI. There is nothing appalling about it. Drink your tea,

mamma.

MME. VOITSKAYA. It seems you never want to listen to what I have

to say. Pardon me, Jean, but you have changed so in the last year

that I hardly know you. You used to be a man of settled

convictions and had an illuminating personality---

VOITSKI. Oh, yes. I had an illuminating personality, which

illuminated no one. [A pause] I had an illuminating personality!

You couldn't say anything more biting. I am forty-seven years

old. Until last year I endeavoured, as you do now, to blind my

eyes by your pedantry to the truths of life. But now--Oh, if you

only knew! If you knew how I lie awake at night, heartsick and

angry, to think how stupidly I have wasted my time when I might

have been winning from life everything which my old age now

forbids.

SONIA. Uncle Vanya, how dreary!

MME. VOITSKAYA. [To her son] You speak as if your former

convictions were somehow to blame, but you yourself, not they,

were at fault. You have forgotten that a conviction, in itself,

is nothing but a dead letter. You should have done something.

VOITSKI. Done something! Not every man is capable of being a

writer _perpetuum mobile_ like your Herr Professor.

MME. VOITSKAYA. What do you mean by that?

SONIA. [Imploringly] Mother! Uncle Vanya! I entreat you!

VOITSKI. I am silent. I apologise and am silent. [A pause.]

HELENA. What a fine day! Not too hot. [A pause.]

VOITSKI. A fine day to hang oneself.

TELEGIN tunes the guitar. MARINA appears near the house, calling

the chickens.

MARINA. Chick, chick, chick!

SONIA. What did the peasants want, nurse?

MARINA. The same old thing, the same old nonsense. Chick, chick,

chick!

SONIA. Why are you calling the chickens?

MARINA. The speckled hen has disappeared with her chicks. I am

afraid the crows have got her.

TELEGIN plays a polka. All listen in silence. Enter WORKMAN.

WORKMAN. Is the doctor here? [To ASTROFF] Excuse me, sir, but I

have been sent to fetch you.

ASTROFF. Where are you from?

WORKMAN. The factory.

ASTROFF. [Annoyed] Thank you. There is nothing for it, then, but

to go. [Looking around him for his cap] Damn it, this is

annoying!

SONIA. Yes, it is too bad, really. You must come back to dinner

from the factory.

ASTROFF. No, I won't be able to do that. It will be too late. Now

where, where-- [To the WORKMAN] Look here, my man, get me a glass

of vodka, will you? [The WORKMAN goes out] Where--where-- [Finds

his cap] One of the characters in Ostroff's plays is a man with a

long moustache and short wits, like me. However, let me bid you

good-bye, ladies and gentlemen. [To HELENA] I should be really

delighted if you would come to see me some day with Miss Sonia.

My estate is small, but if you are interested in such things I

should like to show you a nursery and seed-bed whose like you

will not find within a thousand miles of here. My place is

surrounded by government forests. The forester is old and always

ailing, so I superintend almost all the work myself.

HELENA. I have always heard that you were very fond of the woods.

Of course one can do a great deal of good by helping to preserve

them, but does not that work interfere with your real calling?

ASTROFF. God alone knows what a man's real calling is.

HELENA. And do you find it interesting?

ASTROFF. Yes, very.

VOITSKI. [Sarcastically] Oh, extremely!

HELENA. You are still young, not over thirty-six or seven, I

should say, and I suspect that the woods do not interest you as

much as you say they do. I should think you would find them

monotonous.

SONIA. No, the work is thrilling. Dr. Astroff watches over the

old woods and sets out new plantations every year, and he has

already received a diploma and a bronze medal. If you will listen

to what he can tell you, you will agree with him entirely. He

says that forests are the ornaments of the earth, that they teach

mankind to understand beauty and attune his mind to lofty

sentiments. Forests temper a stern climate, and in countries

where the climate is milder, less strength is wasted in the

battle with nature, and the people are kind and gentle. The

inhabitants of such countries are handsome, tractable, sensitive,

graceful in speech and gesture. Their philosophy is joyous, art

and science blossom among them, their treatment of women is full

of exquisite nobility---

VOITSKI. [Laughing] Bravo! Bravo! All that is very pretty, but it

is also unconvincing. So, my friend [To ASTROFF] you must let me

go on burning firewood in my stoves and building my sheds of

planks.

ASTROFF. You can burn peat in your stoves and build your sheds of

stone. Oh, I don't object, of course, to cutting wood from

necessity, but why destroy the forests? The woods of Russia are

trembling under the blows of the axe. Millions of trees have

perished. The homes of the wild animals and birds have been

desolated; the rivers are shrinking, and many beautiful

landscapes are gone forever. And why? Because men are too lazy

and stupid to stoop down and pick up their fuel from the ground.

[To HELENA] Am I not right, Madame? Who but a stupid barbarian

could burn so much beauty in his stove and destroy that which he

cannot make? Man is endowed with reason and the power to create,

so that he may increase that which has been given him, but until

now he has not created, but demolished. The forests are

disappearing, the rivers are running dry, the game

is exterminated, the climate is spoiled, and the earth becomes

poorer and uglier every day. [To VOITSKI] I read irony in your

eye; you do not take what I am saying seriously, and--and--after

all, it may very well be nonsense. But when I pass

peasant-forests that I have preserved from the axe, or hear the

rustling of the young plantations set out with my own hands, I

feel as if I had had some small share in improving the climate,

and that if mankind is happy a thousand years from now I will

have been a little bit responsible for their happiness. When I

plant a little birch tree and then see it budding into young

green and swaying in the wind, my heart swells with pride and

I--[Sees the WORKMAN, who is bringing him a glass of vodka on a

tray] however--[He drinks] I must be off. Probably it is all

nonsense, anyway. Good-bye.

He goes toward the house. SONIA takes his arm and goes with him.

SONIA. When are you coming to see us again?

ASTROFF. I can't say.

SONIA. In a month?

ASTROFF and SONIA go into the house. HELENA and VOITSKI walk over

to the terrace.

HELENA. You have behaved shockingly again. Ivan, what sense was

there in teasing your mother and talking about _perpetuum

mobile?_ And at breakfast you quarreled with Alexander again.

Really, your behaviour is too petty.

VOITSKI. But if I hate him?

HELENA. You hate Alexander without reason; he is like every one

else, and no worse than you are.

VOITSKI. If you could only see your face, your gestures! Oh, how

tedious your life must be.

HELENA. It is tedious, yes, and dreary! You all abuse my husband

and look on me with compassion; you think, "Poor woman, she is

married to an old man." How well I understand your compassion! As

Astroff said just now, see how you thoughtlessly destroy the

forests, so that there will soon be none left. So you also

destroy mankind, and soon fidelity and purity and self-sacrifice

will have vanished with the woods. Why cannot you look calmly at

a woman unless she is yours? Because, the doctor was right, you

are all possessed by a devil of destruction; you have no mercy on

the woods or the birds or on women or on one another.

VOITSKI. I don't like your philosophy.

HELENA. That doctor has a sensitive, weary face--an interesting

face. Sonia evidently likes him, and she is in love with him, and

I can understand it. This is the third time he has been here

since I have come, and I have not had a real talk with him yet or

made much of him. He thinks I am disagreeable. Do you know, Ivan,

the reason you and I are such friends? I think it is because we

are both lonely and unfortunate. Yes, unfortunate. Don't look at

me in that way, I don't like it.

VOITSKI. How can I look at you otherwise when I love you? You are

my joy, my life, and my youth. I know that my chances of being

loved in return are infinitely small, do not exist, but I ask

nothing of you. Only let me look at you, listen to your voice--

HELENA. Hush, some one will overhear you.

[They go toward the house.]

VOITSKI. [Following her] Let me speak to you of my love, do not

drive me away, and this alone will be my greatest happiness!

HELENA. Ah! This is agony!

TELEGIN strikes the strings of his guitar and plays a polka. MME.

VOITSKAYA writes something on the leaves of her pamphlet.

The curtain falls.

ACT II

The dining-room of SEREBRAKOFF'S house. It is night. The tapping

of the WATCHMAN'S rattle is heard in the garden. SEREBRAKOFF is

dozing in an arm-chair by an open window and HELENA is sitting

beside him, also half asleep.

SEREBRAKOFF. [Rousing himself] Who is here? Is it you, Sonia?

HELENA. It is I.

SEREBRAKOFF. Oh, it is you, Nelly. This pain is intolerable.

HELENA. Your shawl has slipped down. [She wraps up his legs in

the shawl] Let me shut the window.

SEREBRAKOFF. No, leave it open; I am suffocating. I dreamt just

now that my left leg belonged to some one else, and it hurt so

that I woke. I don't believe this is gout, it is more like

rheumatism. What time is it?

HELENA. Half past twelve. [A pause.]

SEREBRAKOFF. I want you to look for Batushka's works in the

library to-morrow. I think we have him.

HELENA. What is that?

SEREBRAKOFF. Look for Batushka to-morrow morning; we used to have

him, I remember. Why do I find it so hard to breathe?

HELENA. You are tired; this is the second night you have had no

sleep.

SEREBRAKOFF. They say that Turgenieff got angina of the heart

from gout. I am afraid I am getting angina too. Oh, damn this

horrible, accursed old age! Ever since I have been old I have

been hateful to myself, and I am sure, hateful to you all as

well.

HELENA. You speak as if we were to blame for your being old.

SEREBRAKOFF. I am more hateful to you than to any one.

HELENA gets up and walks away from him, sitting down at a

distance.

SEREBRAKOFF. You are quite right, of course. I am not an idiot; I

can understand you. You are young and healthy and beautiful, and

longing for life, and I am an old dotard, almost a dead man

already. Don't I know it? Of course I see that it is foolish for

me to live so long, but wait! I shall soon set you all free. My

life cannot drag on much longer.

HELENA. You are overtaxing my powers of endurance. Be quiet, for

God's sake!

SEREBRAKOFF. It appears that, thanks to me, everybody's power of

endurance is being overtaxed; everybody is miserable, only I am

blissfully triumphant. Oh, yes, of course!

HELENA. Be quiet! You are torturing me.

SEREBRAKOFF. I torture everybody. Of course.

HELENA. [Weeping] This is unbearable! Tell me, what is it you

want me to do?

SEREBRAKOFF. Nothing.

HELENA. Then be quiet, please.

SEREBRAKOFF. It is funny that everybody listens to Ivan and his

old idiot of a mother, but the moment I open my lips you all

begin to feel ill-treated. You can't even stand the sound of my

voice. Even if I am hateful, even if I am a selfish tyrant,

haven't I the right to be one at my age? Haven't I deserved it?

Haven't I, I ask you, the right to be respected, now that I am

old?

HELENA. No one is disputing your rights. [The window slams in the

wind] The wind is rising, I must shut the window. [She shuts it]

We shall have rain in a moment. Your rights have never been

questioned by anybody.

The WATCHMAN in the garden sounds his rattle.

SEREBRAKOFF. I have spent my life working in the interests of

learning. I am used to my library and the lecture hall and to the

esteem and admiration of my colleagues. Now I suddenly find

myself plunged in this wilderness, condemned to see the same

stupid people from morning till night and listen to their futile

conversation. I want to live; I long for success and fame and the

stir of the world, and here I am in exile! Oh, it is dreadful to

spend every moment grieving for the lost past, to see the success

of others and sit here with nothing to do but to fear death. I

cannot stand it! It is more than I can bear. And you will not

even forgive me for being old!

HELENA. Wait, have patience; I shall he old myself in four or

five years.

SONIA comes in.

SONIA. Father, you sent for Dr. Astroff, and now when he comes

you refuse to see him. It is not nice to give a man so much

trouble for nothing.

SEREBRAKOFF. What do I care about your Astroff? He understands

medicine about as well as I understand astronomy.

SONIA. We can't send for the whole medical faculty, can we, to

treat your gout?

SEREBRAKOFF. I won't talk to that madman!

SONIA. Do as you please. It's all the same to me. [She sits

down.]

SEREBRAKOFF. What time is it?

HELENA. One o'clock.

SEREBRAKOFF. It is stifling in here. Sonia, hand me that bottle

on the table.

SONIA. Here it is. [She hands him a bottle of medicine.]

SEREBRAKOFF. [Crossly] No, not that one! Can't you understand me?

Can't I ask you to do a thing?

SONIA. Please don't be captious with me. Some people may like it,

but you must spare me, if you please, because I don't. Besides, I

haven't the time; we are cutting the hay to-morrow and I must get

up early.

VOITSKI comes in dressed in a long gown and carrying a candle.

VOITSKI. A thunderstorm is coming up. [The lightning flashes]

There it is! Go to bed, Helena and Sonia. I have come to take

your place.

SEREBRAKOFF. [Frightened] No, n o, no! Don't leave me alone with

him! Oh, don't. He will begin to lecture me.

VOITSKI. But you must give them a little rest. They have not

slept for two nights.

SEREBRAKOFF. Then let them go to bed, but you go away too! Thank

you. I implore you to go. For the sake of our former friendship

do not protest against going. We will talk some other time---

VOITSKI. Our former friendship! Our former---

SONIA. Hush, Uncle Vanya!

SEREBRAKOFF. [To his wife] My darling, don't leave me alone with

him. He will begin to lecture me.

VOITSKI. This is ridiculous.

MARINA comes in carrying a candle.

SONIA. You must go to bed, nurse, it is late.

MARINA. I haven't cleared away the tea things. Can't go to bed

yet.

SEREBRAKOFF. No one can go to bed. They are all worn out, only I

enjoy perfect happiness.

MARINA. [Goes up to SEREBRAKOFF and speaks tenderly] What's the

matter, master? Does it hurt? My own legs are aching too, oh, so

badly. [Arranges his shawl about his legs] You have had this

illness such a long time. Sonia's dead mother used to stay awake

with you too, and wear herself out for you. She loved you dearly.

[A pause] Old people want to be pitied as much as young ones, but

nobody cares about them somehow. [She kisses SEREBRAKOFF'S

shoulder] Come, master, let me give you some linden-tea and warm

your poor feet for you. I shall pray to God for you.

SEREBRAKOFF. [Touched] Let us go, Marina.

MARINA. My own feet are aching so badly, oh, so badly! [She and

SONIA lead SEREBRAKOFF out] Sonia' s mother used to wear herself

out with sorrow and weeping. You were still little and foolish

then, Sonia. Come, come, master.

SEREBRAKOFF, SONIA and MARINA go out.

HELENA. I am absolutely exhausted by him, and can hardly stand.

VOITSKI. You are exhausted by him, and I am exhausted by my own

self. I have not slept for three nights.

HELENA. Something is wrong in this house. Your mother hates

everything but her pamphlets and the professor; the professor is

vexed, he won't trust me, and fears you; Sonia is angry with her

father, and with me, and hasn't spoken to me for two weeks; I am

at the end of my strength, and have come near bursting into tears

at least twenty times to-day. Something is wrong in this house.

VOITSKI. Leave speculating alone.

HELENA. You are cultured and intelligent, Ivan, and you surely

understand that the world is not destroyed by villains and

conflagrations, but by hate and malice and all this spiteful

tattling. It is your duty to make peace, and not to growl at

everything.

VOITSKI. Help me first to make peace with myself. My darling!

[Seizes her hand.]

HELENA. Let go! [She drags her hand away] Go away!

VOITSKI. Soon the rain will be over, and all nature will sigh and

awake refreshed. Only I am not refreshed by the storm. Day and

night the thought haunts me like a fiend, that my life is lost

for ever. My past does not count, because I frittered it away on

trifles, and the present has so terribly miscarried! What shall I

do with my life and my love? What is to become of them? This

wonderful feeling of mine will be wasted and lost as a ray of

sunlight is lost that falls into a dark chasm, and my life will

go with it.

HELENA. I am as it were benumbed when you speak to me of your

love, and I don't know how to answer you. Forgive me, I have

nothing to say to you. [She tries to go out] Good-night!

VOITSKI. [Barring the way] If you only knew how I am tortured by

the thought that beside me in this house is another life that is

being lost forever--it is yours! What are you waiting for? What

accursed philosophy stands in your way? Oh, understand,

understand---

HELENA. [Looking at him intently] Ivan, you are drunk!

VOITSKI. Perhaps. Perhaps.

HELENA. Where is the doctor?

VOITSKI. In there, spending the night with me. Perhaps I am

drunk, perhaps I am; nothing is impossible.

HELENA. Have you just been drinking together? Why do you do that?

VOITSKI. Because in that way I get a taste of life. Let me do it,

Helena!

HELENA. You never used to drink, and you never used to talk so

much. Go to bed, I am tired of you.

VOITSKI. [Falling on his knees before her] My sweetheart. my

beautiful one---

HELENA. [Angrily] Leave me alone! Really, this has become too

disagreeable.

HELENA goes out. A pause.

VOITSKI [Alone] She is gone! I met her first ten years ago, at

her sister's house, when she was seventeen and I was

thirty-seven. Why did I not fall in love with her then and

propose to her? It would have been so easy! And now she would

have been my wife. Yes, we would both have been waked to-night by

the thunderstorm, and she would have been frightened, but I would

have held her in my arms and whispered: "Don't be afraid! I am

here." Oh, enchanting dream, so sweet that I laugh to think of

it. [He laughs] But my God! My head reels! Why am I so old? Why

won't she understand me? I hate all that rhetoric of hers, that

morality of indolence, that absurd talk about the destruction of

the world--- [A pause] Oh, how I have been deceived! For years I

have worshipped that miserable gout-ridden professor. Sonia and I

have squeezed this estate dry for his sake. We have bartered our

butter and curds and peas like misers, and have never kept a

morsel for ourselves, so that we could scrape enough pennies

together to send to him. I was proud of him and of his learning;

I received all his words and writings as inspired, and now? Now

he has retired, and what is the total of his life? A blank! He is

absolutely unknown, and his fame has burst like a soap-bubble. I

have been deceived; I see that now, basely deceived.

ASTROFF comes in. He has his coat on, but is without his

waistcoat or collar, and is slightly drunk. TELEGIN follows him,

carrying a guitar.

ASTROFF. Play!

TELEGIN. But every one is asleep.

ASTROFF. Play!

TELEGIN begins to play softly.

ASTROFF. Are you alone here? No women about? [Sings with his arms

akimbo.]

"The hut is cold, the fire is dead;

Where shall the master lay his head?"

The thunderstorm woke me. It was a heavy shower. What time is it?

VOITSKI. The devil only knows.

ASTROFF. I thought I heard Helena's voice.

VOITSKI. She was here a moment ago.

ASTROFF. What a beautiful woman! [Looking at the medicine

bottles on the table] Medicine, is it? What a variety we have;

prescriptions from Moscow, from Kharkoff, from Tula! Why, he has

been pestering all the towns of Russia with his gout! Is he ill,

or simply shamming?

VOITSKI. He is really ill.

ASTROFF. What is the matter with you to-night? You seem sad. Is

it because you are sorry for the professor?

VOITSKI. Leave me alone.

ASTROFF. Or in love with the professor's wife?

VOITSKI. She is my friend.

ASTROFF. Already?

VOITSKI. What do you mean by "already"?

ASTROFF. A woman can only become a man's friend after having

first been his acquaintance and then his beloved--then she

becomes his friend.

VOITSKI. What vulgar philosophy!

ASTROFF. What do you mean? Yes, I must confess I am getting

vulgar, but then, you see, I am drunk. I usually only drink like

this once a month. At such times my audacity and temerity know no

bounds. I feel capable of anything. I attempt the most difficult

operations and do them magnificently. The most brilliant plans

for the future take shape in my head. I am no longer a poor fool

of a doctor, but mankind's greatest benefactor. I evolve my own

system of philosophy and all of you seem to crawl at my feet like

so many insects or microbes. [To TELEGIN] Play, Waffles!

TELEGIN. My dear boy, I would with all my heart, but do listen to

reason; everybody in the house is asleep.

ASTROFF. Play!

TELEGIN plays softly.

ASTROFF. I want a drink. Come, we still have some brandy left.

And then, as soon as it is day, you will come home with me. [He

sees SONIA, who comes in at that moment.]

ASTROFF. I beg your pardon, I have no collar on.

[He goes out quickly, followed by TELEGIN.

SONIA. Uncle Vanya, you and the doctor have been drinking! The

good fellows have been getting together! It is all very well for

him, he has always done it, but why do you follow his example? It

looks dreadfully at your age.

VOITSKI. Age has nothing to do with it. When real life is

wanting one must create an illusion. It is better than nothing.

SONIA. Our hay is all cut and rotting in these daily rains, and

here you are busy creating illusions! You have given up the farm

altogether. I have done all the work alone until I am at the end

of my strength--[Frightened] Uncle! Your eyes are full of tears!

VOITSKI. 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!

SONIA. If she only knew what, Uncle?

VOITSKI. My heart is bursting. It is awful. No matter, though. I

must go. [He goes out.]

SONIA. [Knocks at the door] Dr. Astroff! Are you awake? Please

come here for a minute.

ASTROFF. [Behind the door] In a moment.

He appears in a few seconds. He has put on his collar and

waistcoat.

ASTROFF. What do you want?

SONIA. Drink as much as you please yourself if you don't find it

revolting, but I implore you not to let my uncle do it. It is bad

for him.

ASTROFF. Very well; we won't drink any more. I am going home at

once. That is settled. It will be dawn by the time the horses are

harnessed.

SONIA. It is still raining; wait till morning.

ASTROFF. The storm is 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. To-day he refused to see me

at all.

SONIA. He has been spoilt. [She looks in the sideboard] Won't you

have a bite to eat?

ASTROFF. Yes, please. I believe I will.

SONIA. I love to eat at night. I am 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 is some cheese

for you.

[They stand eating by the sideboard.]

ASTROFF. I haven't eaten anything to-day. Your father has a very

difficult nature. [He takes a bottle out of the sideboard] May I?

[He pours himself a glass of vodka] We are alone here, and I can

speak frankly. Do you know, I could not stand living in this

house for even a month? This atmosphere would stifle me. There is

your father, entirely absorbed in his books, and his gout; there

is your Uncle Vanya with his hypochondria, your grandmother, and

finally, your step-mother--

SONIA. What about her?

ASTROFF. A human being should be entirely beautiful: 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 is all. She

has no responsibilities, everything is done for her--am I not

right? And an idle life can never be a pure one. [A pause]

However, I may be judging her too severely. Like your Uncle

Vanya, I am discontented, and so we are both grumblers.

SONIA. Aren't you satisfied with life?

ASTROFF. I like life as life, but I hate and despise it in a

little Russian country village, and as far as my own personal

life goes, by heaven! there is 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, that you know--as no one else in the

country works. Fate beats me on without rest; at times I suffer

unendurably and I see no light ahead. I have no hope; I do not

like people. It is long since I have loved any one.

SONIA. You love no one?

ASTROFF. Not a soul. I only feel a sort of tenderness for your

old nurse for old-times' sake. The peasants are all alike; they

are 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 are dull. Those that have brains 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. I like the woods; that is strange. I don't eat meat;

that is strange, too. Simple, natural relations between man and

man or man and nature do not exist. [He tries to go out; SONIA

prevents him.]

SONIA. I beg you, I implore you, not to drink any more!

ASTROFF. Why not?

SONIA. It is so unworthy of you. You are well-bred, your voice is

sweet, you are even--more than any one I know--handsome. Why do

you want to resemble the common people that drink and play cards?

Oh, don't, I beg you! You always say that people do not 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!

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

SONIA. Promise me.

ASTROFF. I give you my word of honour.

SONIA. [Squeezing his hand] Thank you.

ASTROFF. I have done with it. You see, I am 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 am old, I am tired, I am trivial; 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 is not love, that is not

affection--

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

SONIA. What is it?

ASTROFF. Nothing. During Lent one of my patients died under

chloroform.

SONIA. It is 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?

ASTROFF. [Shrugging his shoulders] I don't know. I don't think I

should do anything. I should make her understand that I could not

return her love--however, my mind is not bothered about those

things now. I must start at once if I am ever to get off.

Good-bye, my dear girl. At this rate we shall stand here talking

till morning. [He shakes hands with her] I shall go out through

the sitting-room, because I am afraid your uncle might detain me.

[He goes out.]

SONIA. [Alone] Not a word! His heart and soul are still locked

from me, and yet for some reason I am strangely happy. I wonder

why? [She laughs with pleasure] I told him that he was well-bred

and handsome and that his voice was sweet. Was that a mistake? I

can still feel his voice vibrating in the air; it caresses me.

[Wringing her hands] Oh! how terrible it is to be plain! I am

plain, I know it. As I came out of church last Sunday I overheard

a woman say, "She is a dear, noble girl, but what a pity she is

so ugly!" So ugly!

HELENA comes in and throws open the window.

HELENA. The storm is over. What delicious air! [A pause] Where is

the doctor?

SONIA. He has gone. [A pause.]

HELENA. Sonia!

SONIA. Yes?

HELENA. How much longer are you going to sulk at me? We have not

hurt each other. Why not be friends? We have had enough of this.

SONIA. I myself--[She embraces HELENA] Let us make peace.

HELENA. With all my heart. [They are both moved.]

SONIA. 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] Who left the sideboard open?

SONIA. Dr. Astroff has just had supper.

HELENA. There is some wine. Let us seal our friendship.

SONIA. Yes, let us.

HELENA. Out of one glass. [She fills a wine-glass] So, we are

friends, are we?

SONIA. Yes. [They drink and kiss each other] I have long wanted

to make friends, but somehow, I was ashamed to. [She weeps.]

HELENA. Why are you crying?

SONIA. I don't know. It is nothing.

HELENA. There, there, don't cry. [She weeps] Silly! Now I am

crying too. [A pause] You are angry with me because I seem to

have married your father for his money, but don't believe the

gossip you hear. I swear to you 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 am

innocent, and yet your clever, suspicious eyes have been

punishing me for an imaginary crime ever since my marriage.

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

HELENA. You must not look so at people. It is not becoming to

you. You must trust people, or life becomes impossible.

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

HELENA. Truly, no.

SONIA. I knew it. One more question: do you wish your husband

were young?

HELENA. What a child you are! Of course I do. Go on, ask

something else.

SONIA. Do you like the doctor?

HELENA. Yes, very much indeed.

SONIA. [Laughing] I have a stupid face, haven't I? He has 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 cannot speak of it so loudly. I am ashamed. Come

to my room and let me tell you there. I seem foolish to you,

don't I? Talk to me of him.

HELENA. What can I say?

SONIA. He is clever. He can do everything. He can cure the sick,

and plant woods.

HELENA. It is not a question of medicine and woods, my dear, he

is a man of genius. Do you know what that means? It means he is

brave, profound, and of clear insight. 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 loved. 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 SONIA] I

wish you happiness with all my heart; you deserve it. [She gets

up] As for me, I am a worthless, futile woman. I have always been

futile; in music, in love, in my husband's house--in a word, in

everything. When you come to think of it, Sonia, I am really

very, very unhappy. [Walks excitedly up and down] Happiness can

never exist for me in this world. Never. Why do you laugh?

SONIA. [Laughing and covering her face with her hands] I am so

happy, so happy!

HELENA. I want to hear music. I might play a little.

SONIA. Oh, do, do! [She embraces her] I could not possibly go to

sleep now. Do play!

HELENA. Yes, I will. Your father is still awake. Music irritates

him when he is ill, but if he says I may, then I shall play a

little. Go, Sonia, and ask him.

SONIA. Very well.

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

HELENA. It is long since I have heard music. And now, I shall sit

and play, and weep like a fool. [Speaking out of the window] Is

that you rattling out there, Ephim?

VOICE OF THE WATCHMAN. It is I.

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

VOICE OF THE WATCHMAN. I am going away this minute. [Whistles a

tune.]

SONIA. [Comes back] He says, no.

The curtain falls.

ACT III

The drawing-room of SEREBRAKOFF'S house. There are three doors:

one to the right, one to the left, and one in the centre of the

room. VOITSKI and SONIA are sitting down. HELENA is walking up

and down, absorbed in thought.

VOITSKI. We were asked by the professor to be here at one

o'clock. [Looks at his watch] It is now a quarter to one. It

seems he has some communication to make to the world.

HELENA. Probably a matter of business.

VOITSKI. He never had any business. He writes twaddle, grumbles,

and eats his heart out with jealousy; that's all he does.

SONIA. [Reproachfully] Uncle!

VOITSKI. All right. I beg your pardon. [He points to HELENA] Look

at her. Wandering up and down from sheer idleness. A sweet

picture, really.

HELENA. I wonder you are not bored, droning on in the same key

from morning till night. [Despairingly] I am dying of this

tedium. What shall I do?

SONIA. [Shrugging her shoulders] There is plenty to do if you

would.

HELENA. For instance?

SONIA. 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 deal in flour.

HELENA. I don't know anything about such things, and besides,

they don't interest me. It is only in novels that women go out

and teach and heal the peasants; how can I suddenly begin to do

it?

SONIA. How can you live here and not do it? Wait awhile, you will

get used to it all. [Embraces her] Don't be sad, dearest.

[Laughing] You feel miserable and restless, and can't seem to fit

into this life, and your restlessness is catching. Look at Uncle

Vanya, he does nothing now but haunt you like a shadow, and I

have left my work to-day to come here and talk with you. I am

getting lazy, and don't want to go on with it. Dr. Astroff hardly

ever used to come here; it was all we could do to persuade him to

visit us once a month, and now he has abandoned his forestry and

his practice, and comes every day. You must be a witch.

VOITSKI. Why should you languish here? Come, my dearest, my

beauty, be sensible! The blood of a Nixey runs in your veins. Oh,

won't you let yourself be one? Give your nature the reins for

once in your life; fall head over ears 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 may have our hands free again.

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

to go out.]

VOITSKI. [Preventing her] There, there, my beauty, I apologise.

[He kisses her hand] Forgive me.

HELENA. Confess that you would try the patience of an angel.

VOITSKI. As a peace offering I am going to fetch some flowers

which I picked for you this morning: some autumn roses,

beautiful, sorrowful roses. [He goes out.]

SONIA. 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 is the doctor?

SONIA. He is writing in Uncle Vanya's room. I am glad Uncle Vanya

has gone out, I want to talk to you about something.

HELENA. About what?

SONIA. About what?

[She lays her head on HELENA'S breast.]

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

Sonia.

SONIA. I am ugly!

HELENA. You have lovely hair.

SONIA. Don't say that! [She turns to look at herself in the

glass] No, when a woman is ugly they always say she has beautiful

hair or eyes. I have loved him now for six years, I have 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 is here every day now, but he never

looks at me, he does not notice my presence. It is agony. I have

absolutely no hope, no, no hope. 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. I am not

mistress of myself. Yesterday I told Uncle Vanya I couldn't

control myself, and all the servants know it. Every one knows

that I love him.

HELENA. Does he?

SONIA. No, he never notices me.

HELENA. [Thoughtfully] He is a strange man. Listen, Sonia, will

you allow me to speak to him? I shall be careful, only hint. [A

pause] Really, to be in uncertainty all these years! Let me do

it!

SONIA nods an affirmative.

HELENA. Splendid! It will be easy to find out whether he loves

you or not. Don't be ashamed, sweetheart, don't worry. I shall be

careful; he will not 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 keep away from here, is that so?

SONIA 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 a sketch to show

me. Go and tell him at once that I want to see him.

SONIA. [In great excitement] Will you tell me the whole truth?

HELENA. Of course I will. I am sure that no matter what it is, it

will be easier for you to bear than this uncertainty. Trust to

me, dearest.

SONIA. Yes, yes. I shall say that you want to see his sketch.

[She starts out, but stops near the door and looks back] No, it

is better not to know--and yet--there may be hope.

HELENA. What do you say?

SONIA. Nothing. [She goes out.]

HELENA. [Alone] There is no greater sorrow than to know another's

secret when you cannot help them. [In deep thought] He is

obviously not in love with her, but why shouldn't he marry her?

She is not pretty, but she is so clever and pure and good, she

would make a splendid wife for a country doctor of his years. [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. Astroff, so different, so

handsome, so interesting, so charming. It is like seeing the moon

rise on a dark night. Oh, to surrender oneself to his embrace! To

lose oneself in his arms! I am a little in love with him myself!

Yes, I am lonely without him, and when I think of him I smile.

That Uncle Vanya says I have the blood of a Nixey in my veins:

"Give rein to your nature for once in your life!" Perhaps it is

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 am a coward, I am 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 Sonia's

feet and beg her forgiveness, and weep.

ASTROFF comes in carrying a portfolio.

ASTROFF. How do you do? [Shakes hands with her] Do you want to

see my sketch?

HELENA. Yes, you promised to show me what you had been doing.

Have you time now?

ASTROFF. Of course I have!

He lays the portfolio on the table, takes out the sketch and

fastens it to the table with thumb-tacks.

ASTROFF. Where were you born?

HELENA. [Helping him] In St. Petersburg.

ASTROFF. And educated?

HELENA. At the Conservatory there.

ASTROFF. You don't find this life very interesting, I dare say?

HELENA. Oh, why not? It is true I don't know the country very

well, but I have read a great deal about it.

ASTROFF. I have my own desk there in Ivan's room. When I am

absolutely too exhausted to go on I drop everything and rush over

here to forget myself in this work for an hour or two. Ivan and

Miss Sonia sit rattling at their counting-boards, the cricket

chirps, and I sit beside them and paint, feeling warm and

peaceful. But I don't permit myself this luxury very often, only

once a month. [Pointing to the picture] Look there! That is a map

of our country as it was fifty years ago. The green tints, both

dark and light, represent forests. Half the map, as you see, is

covered with it. Where the green is striped with red the forests

were inhabited by elk and wild goats. Here on this lake, lived

great flocks of swans and geese and ducks; as the old men say,

there was a power of birds of every kind. Now they have vanished

like a cloud. Beside the hamlets and villages, you see, I have

dotted down here and there the various settlements, farms,

hermit's caves, and water-mills. This country carried a great

many cattle and horses, as you can see by the quantity of blue

paint. For instance, see how thickly it lies in this part; there

were great herds of them here, an average of three horses to

every house. [A pause] Now, look lower down. This is the country

as it was twenty-five years ago. Only a third of the map is green

now with forests. There are no goats left and no elk. The blue

paint is lighter, and so on, and so on. Now we come to the third

part; our country as it appears to-day. We still see spots of

green, but not much. The elk, the swans, the black-cock have

disappeared. It is, on the whole, the picture of a regular and

slow decline which it will evidently only take about ten or

fifteen more years to complete. You may perhaps object that it is

the march of progress, that the old order must give place to the

new, and you might be right if roads had been run through these

ruined woods, or if factories and schools had taken their place.

The people then would have become better educated and healthier

and richer, but as it is, we have nothing of the sort. We have

the same swamps and mosquitoes; the same disease and want; the

typhoid, the diphtheria, the burning villages. We are confronted

by the degradation of our country, brought on by the fierce

struggle for existence of the human race. It is the consequence

of the ignorance and unconsciousness of starving, shivering, sick

humanity that, to save its children, instinctively snatches at

everything that can warm it and still its hunger. So it destroys

everything it can lay its hands on, without a thought for the

morrow. And almost everything has gone, and nothing has been

created to take its place. [Coldly] But I see by your face that I

am not interesting you.

HELENA. I know so little about such things!

ASTROFF. There is nothing to know. It simply isn't interesting,

that's all.

HELENA. Frankly, my thoughts were elsewhere. Forgive me! I want

to submit you to a little examination, but I am embarrassed and

don't know how to begin.

ASTROFF. An examination?

HELENA. Yes, but quite an innocent one. Sit down. [They sit down]

It is about a certain young girl I know. Let us discuss it like

honest people, like friends, and then forget what has passed

between us, shall we?

ASTROFF. Very well.

HELENA. It is about my step-daughter, Sonia. Do you like her?

ASTROFF. Yes, I respect her.

HELENA. Do you like her--as a woman?

ASTROFF. [Slowly] No.

HELENA. One more word, and that will be the last. You have not

noticed anything?

ASTROFF. No, nothing.

HELENA. [Taking his hand] You do not love her. I see that in your

eyes. She is suffering. You must realise that, and not come here

any more.

ASTROFF. My sun has set, yes, and then I haven't the time.

[Shrugging his shoulders] Where shall I find time for such

things? [He is embarrassed.

HELENA. Bah! What an unpleasant conversation! I am as out of

breath as if I had been running three miles uphill. Thank heaven,

that is over! Now let us forget everything as if nothing had been

said. You are sensible. You understand. [A pause] I am actually

blushing.

ASTROFF. If you had spoken a month ago I might perhaps have

considered it, but now--[He shrugs his shoulders] Of course, if

she is suffering--but I cannot understand why you had to put me

through this examination. [He searches her face with his eyes,

and shakes his finger at her] Oho, you are wily!

HELENA. What does this mean?

ASTROFF. [Laughing] You are a wily one! I admit that Sonia is

suffering, but what does this examination of yours mean? [He

prevents her from retorting, and goes on quickly] Please don't

put on such a look of surprise; you know perfectly well why I

come here every day. Yes, you know perfectly why and for whose

sake I come! Oh, my sweet tigress! don't look at me in that way;

I am an old bird!

HELENA. [Perplexed] A tigress? I don't understand you.

ASTROFF. Beautiful, sleek tigress, you must have your victims!

For a whole month I have done nothing but seek you eagerly. I

have thrown over everything for you, and you love to see it. Now

then, I am sure you knew all this without putting me through your

examination. [Crossing his arms and bowing his head] I surrender.

Here you have me--now, eat me.

HELENA. You have gone mad!

ASTROFF. You are afraid!

HELENA. I am a better and stronger woman than you think me.

Good-bye. [She tries to leave the room.]

ASTROFF. Why good-bye? Don't say good-bye, don't waste words. Oh,

how lovely you are--what hands! [He kisses her hands.]

HELENA. Enough of this! [She frees her hands] Leave the room! You

have forgotten yourself.

ASTROFF. Tell me, tell me, where can we meet to-morrow? [He puts

his arm around her] Don't you see that we must meet, that it is

inevitable?

He kisses her. VOITSKI comes in carrying a bunch of roses, and

stops in the doorway.

HELENA. [Without seeing VOITSKI] Have

pity! Leave me, [lays her head on ASTROFF'S shoulder] Don't!

[She tries to break away from him.]

ASTROFF. [Holding her by the waist] Be in the forest tomorrow at

two o'clock. Will you? Will you?

HELENA. [Sees VOITSKI] Let me go! [Goes to the window deeply

embarrassed] This is appalling!

VOITSKI. [Throws the flowers on a chair, and speaks in great

excitement, wiping his face with his handkerchief] Nothing--yes,

yes, nothing.

ASTROFF. The weather is fine to-day, my dear Ivan; the morning

was overcast and looked like rain, but now the sun is shining

again. Honestly, we have had a very fine autumn, and the wheat is

looking fairly well. [Puts his map back into the portfolio] But

the days are growing short.

HELENA. [Goes quickly up to VOITSKI] You must do your best; you

must use all your power to get my husband and myself away from

here to-day! Do you hear? I say, this very day!

VOITSKI. [Wiping his face] Oh! Ah! Oh! All right! I--Helena, I

saw everything!

HELENA. [In great agitation] Do you hear me? I must leave here

this very day!

SEREBRAKOFF, SONIA, MARINA, and TELEGIN come in.

TELEGIN. I am not very well myself, your Excellency. I have been

limping for two days, and my head--

SEREBRAKOFF. Where are the others? I hate this house. It is a

regular labyrinth. Every one is always scattered through the

twenty-six enormous rooms; one never can find a soul. [Rings] Ask

my wife and Madame Voitskaya to come here!

HELENA. I am here already.

SEREBRAKOFF. Please, all of you, sit down.

SONIA. [Goes up to HELENA and asks anxiously] What did he say?

HELENA. I'll tell you later.

SONIA. You are moved. [looking quickly and inquiringly into her

face] I understand; he said he would not come here any more. [A

pause] Tell me, did he?

HELENA nods.

SEREBRAKOFF. [To TELEGIN] One can, after all, become reconciled

to being an invalid, but not to this country life. The ways of it

stick in my throat and I feel exactly as if I had been whirled

off the earth and landed on a strange planet. Please be seated,

ladies and gentlemen. Sonia! [SONIA does not hear. She is

standing with her head bowed sadly forward on her breast] Sonia!

[A pause] She does not hear me. [To MARINA] Sit down too, nurse.

[MARINA sits down and begins to knit her stocking] I crave your

indulgence, ladies and gentlemen; hang your ears, if I may say

so, on the peg of attention. [He laughs.]

VOITSKI. [Agitated] Perhaps you do not need me--may I be excused?

SEREBRAKOFF. No, you are needed now more than any one.

VOITSKI. What is it you want of me?

SEREBRAKOFF. You--but what are you angry about? If it is anything

I have done, I ask you to forgive me.

VOITSKI. Oh, drop that and come to business; what do you want?

MME. VOITSKAYA comes in.

SEREBRAKOFF. Here is mother. Ladies and gentlemen, I shall begin.

I have asked you to assemble here, my friends, in order to

discuss a very important matter. I want to ask you for your

assistance and advice, and knowing your unfailing amiability I

think I can count on both. I am a book-worm and a scholar, and am

unfamiliar with practical affairs. I cannot, I find, dispense

with the help of well-informed people such as you, Ivan, and you,

Telegin, and you, mother. The truth is, _manet omnes una nox,_

that is to say, our lives are in the hands of God, and as I am

old and ill, I realise that the time has come for me to dispose

of my property in regard to the interests of my family. My life

is nearly over, and I am not thinking of myself, but I have a

young wife and daughter. [A pause] I cannot continue to live in

the country; we were not made for country life, and yet we cannot

afford to live in town on the income derived from this estate. We

might sell the woods, but that would be an expedient we could not

resort to every year. We must find some means of guaranteeing to

ourselves a certain more or less fixed yearly income. With this

object in view, a plan has occurred to me which I now have the

honour of presenting to you for your consideration. I shall only

give you a rough outline, avoiding all details. Our estate does

not pay on an average more than two per cent on the money

invested in it. I propose to sell it. If we then invest our

capital in bonds, it will earn us four to five per cent, and we

should probably have a surplus over of several thousand roubles,

with which we could buy a summer cottage in Finland--

VOITSKI. Hold on! Repeat what you just said; I don't think I

heard you quite right.

SEREBRAKOFF. I said we would invest the money in bonds and buy a

cottage in Finland with the surplus.

VOITSKI. No, not Finland--you said something else.

SEREBRAKOFF. I propose to sell this place.

VOITSKI. Aha! That was it! So you are going to sell the place?

Splendid. The idea is a rich one. And what do you propose to do

with my old mother and me and with Sonia here?

SEREBRAKOFF. That will be decided in due time. We can't do

everything at once.

VOITSKI. Wait! It is clear that until this moment I have never

had a grain of sense in my head. I have always been stupid enough

to think that the estate belonged to Sonia. My father bought it

as a wedding present for my sister, and I foolishly imagined that

as our laws were made for Russians and not Turks, my sister's

estate would come down to her child.

SEREBRAKOFF. Of course it is Sonia's. Has any one denied it? I

don't want to sell it without Sonia's consent; on the contrary,

what I am doing is for Sonia's good.

VOITSKI. This is absolutely incomprehensible. Either I have gone

mad or--or--

MME. VOITSKAYA. Jean, don't contradict Alexander. Trust to him;

he knows better than we do what is right and what is wrong.

VOITSKI. I shan't. Give me some water. [He drinks] Go ahead! Say

anything you please--anything!

SEREBRAKOFF. I can't imagine why you are so upset. I don't

pretend that my scheme is an ideal one, and if you all object to

it I shall not insist. [A pause.]

TELEGIN. [With embarrassment] I not only nourish feelings of

respect toward learning, your Excellency, but I am also drawn to

it by family ties. My brother Gregory's wife's brother, whom you

may know; his name is Constantine Lakedemonoff, and he used to be

a magistrate--

VOITSKI. Stop, Waffles. This is business; wait a bit, we will

talk of that later. [To SEREBRAKOFF] There now, ask him what he

thinks; this estate was bought from his uncle.

SEREBRAKOFF. Ah! Why should I ask questions? What good would it

do?

VOITSKI. The price was ninety-five thousand roubles. My father

paid seventy and left a debt of twenty-five. Now listen! This

place could never have been bought had I not renounced my

inheritance in favour of my sister, whom I deeply loved--and what

is more, I worked for ten years like an ox, and paid off the

debt.

SEREBRAKOFF. I regret ever having started this conversation.

VOITSKI. Thanks entirely to my own personal efforts, the place is

entirely clear of debts, and now, when I have grown old, you want

to throw me out, neck and crop!

SEREBRAKOFF. I can't imagine what you are driving at.

VOITSKI. For twenty-five years I have managed this place, and

have sent you the returns from it like the most honest of

servants, and you have never given me one single word of thanks

for my work, not one--neither in my youth nor now. You allowed me

a meagre salary of five hundred roubles a year, a beggar's

pittance, and have never even thought of adding a rouble to it.

SEREBRAKOFF. What did I know about such things, Ivan? I am not a

practical man and don't understand them. You might have helped

yourself to all you wanted.

VOITSKI. Yes, why did I not steal? Don't you all despise me for

not stealing, when it would have been only justice? And I should

not now have been a beggar!

MME. VOITSKAYA. [Sternly] Jean!

TELEGIN. [Agitated] Vanya, old man, don't talk in that way. Why

spoil such pleasant relations? [He embraces him] Do stop!

VOITSKI. For twenty-five years I have been sitting here with my

mother like a mole in a burrow. Our every thought and hope was

yours and yours only. By day we talked with pride of you and your

work, and spoke your name with veneration; our nights we wasted

reading the books and papers which my soul now loathes.

TELEGIN. D on't, Vanya, don't. I can't stand it.

SEREBRAKOFF. [Wrathfully] What under heaven do you want, anyway?

VOITSKI. We used to think of you as almost superhuman, but now

the scales have fallen from my eyes and I see you as you are! You

write on art without knowing anything about it. Those books of

yours which I used to admire are not worth one copper kopeck. You

are a hoax!

SEREBRAKOFF. Can't any one make him stop? I am going!

HELENA. Ivan, I command you to stop this instant! Do you hear me?

VOITSKI. I refuse! [SEREBRAKOFF tries to get out of the room, but

VOITSKI bars the door] Wait! I have not done yet! You have

wrecked my life. I have never lived. My best years have gone for

nothing, have been ruined, thanks to you. You are my most bitter

enemy!

TELEGIN. I can't stand it; I can't stand it. I am going. [He goes

out in great excitement.]

SEREBRAKOFF. But what do you want? What earthly right have you to

use such language to me? Ruination! If this estate is yours, then

take it, and let me be ruined!

HELENA. I am going away out of this hell this minute. [Shrieks]

This is too much!

VOITSKI. My life has been a failure. I am clever and brave and

strong. If I had lived a normal life I might have become another

Schopenhauer or Dostoieffski. I am losing my head! I am going

crazy! Mother, I am in despair! Oh, mother!

MME. VOITSKAYA. [Sternly] Listen, Alexander!

SONIA falls on her knees beside the nurse and nestles against

her.

SONIA. Oh, nurse, nurse!

VOITSKI. Mother! What shall I do? But no, don't speak! I know

what to do. [To SEREBRAKOFF] And you will understand me!

He goes out through the door in the centre of the room and MME.

VOITSKAYA follows him.

SEREBRAKOFF. Tell me, what on earth is the matter? Take this

lunatic out of my sight! I cannot possibly live under the same

roof with him. His room [He points to the centre door] is almost

next door to mine. Let him take himself off into the village or

into the wing of the house, or I shall leave here at once. I

cannot stay in the same house with him.

HELENA. [To her husband] We are leaving to-day; we must get ready

at once for our departure.

SEREBRAKOFF. What a perfectly dreadful man!

SONIA. [On her knees beside the nurse and turning to her father.

She speaks with emotion] You must be kind to us, papa. Uncle

Vanya and I are so unhappy! [Controlling her despair] Have pity

on us. Remember how Uncle Vanya and Granny used to copy and

translate your books for you every night--every, every night.

Uncle Vanya has toiled without rest; he would never spend a penny

on us, we sent it all to you. We have not eaten the bread of

idleness. I am not saying this as I should like to, but you must

understand us, papa, you must be merciful to us.

HELENA. [Very exited, to her husband] For heaven's sake,

Alexander, go and have a talk with him--explain!

SEREBRAKOFF. Very well, I shall have a talk with him, but I won't

apologise for a thing. I am not angry with him, but you must

confess that his behaviour has been strange, to say the least.

Excuse me, I shall go to him.

[He goes out through the centre door.]

HELENA. Be gentle with him; try to quiet him. [She follows him

out.]

SONIA. [Nestling nearer to MARINA] Nurse, oh, nurse!

MARINA. It's all right, my baby. When the geese have cackled they

will be still again. First they cackle and then they stop.

SONIA. Nurse!

MARINA. You are trembling all over, as if you were freezing.

There, there, little orphan baby, God is merciful. A little

linden-tea, and it will all pass away. Don't cry, my sweetest.

[Looking angrily at the door in the centre of the room] See, the

geese have all gone now. The devil take them!

A shot is heard. HELENA screams behind the scenes. SONIA

shudders.

MARINA. Bang! What's that?

SEREBRAKOFF. [Comes in reeling with terror] Hold him! hold him!

He has gone mad!

HELENA and VOITSKI are seen struggling in the doorway.

HELENA. [Trying to wrest the revolver from him] Give it to me;

give it to me, I tell you!

VOITSKI. Let me go, Helena, let me go! [He frees himself and

rushes in, looking everywhere for SEREBRAKOFF] Where is he? Ah,

there he is! [He shoots at him. A pause] I didn't get him? I

missed again? [Furiously] Damnation! Damnation! To hell with him!

He flings the revolver on the floor, and drops helpless into a

chair. SEREBRAKOFF stands as if stupefied. HELENA leans against

the wall, almost fainting.

HELENA. Take me away! Take me away! I can't stay here--I can't!

VOITSKI. [In despair] Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?

SONIA. [Softly] Oh, nurse, nurse!

The curtain falls.

ACT IV

VOITSKI'S bedroom, which is also his office. A table stands near

the window; on it are ledgers, letter scales, and papers of every

description. Near by stands a smaller table belonging to ASTROFF,

with his paints and drawing materials. On the wall hangs a cage

containing a starling. There is also a map of Africa on the wall,

obviously of no use to anybody. There is a large sofa covered

with buckram. A door to the left leads into an inner room; one to

the right leads into the front hall, and before this door lies a

mat for the peasants with their muddy boots to stand on. It is an

autumn evening. The silence is profound. TELEGIN and MARINA are

sitting facing one another, winding wool.

TELEGIN. Be quick, Marina, or we shall be called away to say

good-bye before you have finished. The carriage has already been

ordered.

MARINA. [Trying to wind more quickly] I am a little tired.

TELEGIN. They are going to Kharkoff to live.

MARINA. They do well to go.

TELEGIN. They have been frightened. The professor's wife won't

stay here an hour longer. "If we are going at all, let's be off,"

says she, "we shall go to Kharkoff and look about us, and then we

can send for our things." They are travelling light. It seems,

Marina, that fate has decreed for them not to live here.

MARINA. And quite rightly. What a storm they have just raised! It

was shameful!

TELEGIN. It was indeed. The scene was worthy of the brush of

Aibazofski.

MARINA. I wish I'd never laid eyes on them. [A pause] Now we

shall have things as they were again: tea at eight, dinner at

one, and supper in the evening; everything in order as decent

folks, as Christians like to have it. [Sighs] It is a long time

since I have eaten noodles.

TELEGIN. Yes, we haven't had noodles for ages. [A pause] Not for

ages. As I was going through the village this morning, Marina,

one of the shop-keepers called after me, "Hi! you hanger-on!" I

felt it bitterly.

MARINA. Don't pay the least attention to them, master; we are all

dependents on God. You and Sonia and all of us. Every one must

work, no one can sit idle. Where is Sonia?

TELEGIN. In the garden with the doctor, looking for Ivan. They

fear he may lay violent hands on himself.

MARINA. Where is his pistol?

TELEGIN. [Whispers] I hid it in the cellar.

VOITSKI and ASTROFF come in.

VOITSKI. Leave me alone! [To MARINA and TELEGIN] Go away! Go away

and leave me to myself, if but for an hour. I won't have you

watching me like this!

TELEGIN. Yes, yes, Vanya. [He goes out on tiptoe.]

MARINA. The gander cackles; ho! ho! ho!

[She gathers up her wool and goes out.]

VOITSKI. Leave me by myself!

ASTROFF. I would, with the greatest pleasure. I ought to have

gone long ago, but I shan't leave you until you have returned

what you took from me.

VOITSKI. I took nothing from you.

ASTROFF. I am not jesting, don't detain me, I really must go.

VOITSKI. I took nothing of yours.

ASTROFF. You didn't? Very well, I shall have to wait a little

longer, and then you will have to forgive me if I resort to

force. We shall have to bind you and search you. I mean what I

say.

VOITSKI. Do as you please. [A pause] Oh, to make such a fool of

myself! To shoot twice and miss him both times! I shall never

forgive myself.

ASTROFF. When the impulse came to shoot, it would have been as

well had you put a bullet through your own head.

VOITSKI. [Shrugging his shoulders] Strange! I attempted murder,

and am not going to be arrested or brought to trial. That means

they think me mad. [With a bitter laugh] Me! I am mad, and those

who hide their worthlessness, their dullness, their crying he

artlessness behind a professor's mask, are sane! Those who marry

old men and then deceive them under the noses of all, are sane! I

saw you kiss her; I saw you in each other's arms!

ASTROFF. Yes, sir, I did kiss her; so there. [He puts his thumb

to his nose.]

VOITSKI. [His eyes on the door] No, it is the earth that is mad,

because she still bears us on her breast.

ASTROFF. That is nonsense.

VOITSKI. Well? Am I not a madman, and therefore irresponsible?

Haven't I the right to talk nonsense?

ASTROFF. This is a farce! You are not mad; you are simply a

ridiculous fool. I used to think every fool was out of his

senses, but now I see that lack of sense is a man's normal state,

and you are perfectly normal.

VOITSKI. [Covers his face with his hands] Oh! If you knew how

ashamed I am! These piercing pangs of shame are like nothing on

earth. [In an agonised voice] I can't endure them! [He leans

against the table] What can I do? What can I do?

ASTROFF. Nothing.

VOITSKI. You must tell me something! Oh, my God! I am forty-seven

years old. I may live to sixty; I still have thirteen years

before me; an eternity! How shall I be able to endure life for

thirteen years? What shall I do? How can I fill them? Oh, don't

you see? [He presses ASTROFF'S hand convulsively] Don't you see,

if only I could live the rest of my life in some new way! If I

could only wake some still, bright morning and feel that life had

begun again; that the past was forgotten and had vanished like

smoke. [He weeps] Oh, to begin life anew! Tell me, tell me how to

begin.

ASTROFF. [Crossly] What nonsense! What sort of a new life can you

and I look forward to? We can have no hope.

VOITSKI. None?

ASTROFF. None. Of that I am convinced.

VOITSKI. Tell me what to do. [He puts his hand to his heart] I

feel such a burning pain here.

ASTROFF. [Shouts angrily] Stop! [Then, more gently] It may be

that posterity, which will despise us for our blind and stupid

lives, will find some road to happiness; but we--you and I--have

but one hope, the hope that we may be visited by visions, perhaps

by pleasant ones, as we lie resting in our graves. [Sighing] Yes,

brother, there were only two respectable, intelligent men in this

county, you and I. Ten years or so of this life of ours, this

miserable life, have sucked us under, and we have become as

contemptible and petty as the rest. But don't try to talk me out

of my purpose! Give me what you took from me, will you?

VOITSKI. I took nothing from you.

ASTROFF. You took a little bottle of morphine out of my

medicine-case. [A pause] Listen! If you are positively determined

to make an end to yourself, go into the woods and shoot yourself

there. Give up the morphine, or there will be a lot of talk and

guesswork; people will think I gave it to you. I don't fancy

having to perform a post-mortem on you. Do you think I should

find it interesting?

SONIA comes in.

VOITSKI. Leave me alone.

ASTROFF. [To SONIA] Sonia, your uncle has stolen a bottle of

morphine out of my medicine-case and won't give it up. Tell him

that his behaviour is--well, unwise. I haven't time, I must be

going.

SONIA. Uncle Vanya, did you take the morphine?

ASTROFF. Yes, he took it. [A pause] I am absolutely sure.

SONIA. Give it up! Why do you want to frighten us? [Tenderly]

Give it up, Uncle Vanya! My misfortune is perhaps even greater

than yours, but I am not plunged in despair. I endure my sorrow,

and shall endure it until my life comes to a natural end. You

must endure yours, too. [A pause] Give it up! Dear, darling Uncle

Vanya. Give it up! [She weeps] You are so good, I am sure you

will have pity on us and give it up. You must endure your sorrow,

Uncle Vanya; you must endure it.

VOITSKI takes a bottle from the drawer of the table and hands it

to ASTROFF.

VOITSKI. There it is! [To SONIA] And now, we must get to work at

once; we must do something, or else I shall not be able to endure

it.

SONIA. Yes, yes, to work! As soon as we have seen them off we

shall go to work. [She nervously straightens out the papers on

the table] Everything is in a muddle!

ASTROFF. [Putting the bottle in his case, which he straps

together] Now I can be off.

HELENA comes in.

HELENA. Are you here, Ivan? We are starting in a moment. Go to

Alexander, he wants to speak to you.

SONIA. Go, Uncle Vanya. [She takes VOITSKI 'S arm] Come, you and

papa must make peace; that is absolutely necessary.

SONIA and VOITSKI go out.

HELENA. I am going away. [She gives ASTROFF her hand] Good-bye.

ASTROFF. So soon?

HELENA. The carriage is waiting.

ASTROFF. Good-bye.

HELENA. You promised me you would go away yourself to-day.

ASTROFF. I have not forgotten. I am going at once. [A pause] Were

you frightened? Was it so terrible?

HELENA. Yes.

ASTROFF. Couldn't you stay? Couldn't you? To-morrow--in the

forest--

HELENA. No. It is all settled, and that is why I can look you so

bravely in the face. Our departure is fixed. One thing I must ask

of you: don't think too badly of me; I should like you to respect

me.

ASTROFF. Ah! [With an impatient gesture] Stay, I implore you!

Confess that there is nothing for you to do in this world. You

have no object in life; there is nothing to occupy your

attention, and sooner or later your feelings must master you. It

is inevitable. It would be better if it happened not in Kharkoff

or in Kursk, but here, in nature's lap. It would then at least be

poetical, even beautiful. Here you have the forests, the houses

half in ruins that Turgenieff writes of.

HELENA. How comical you are! I am angry with you and yet I shall

always remember you with pleasure. You are interesting and

original. You and I will never meet again, and so I shall tell

you--why should I conceal it?--that I am just a little in love

with you. Come, one more last pressure of our hands, and then let

us part good friends. Let us not bear each other any ill will.

ASTROFF. [Pressing her hand] Yes, go. [Thoughtfully] You seem to

be sincere and good, and yet there is something strangely

disquieting about all your personality. No sooner did you arrive

here with your husband than every one whom you found busy and

actively creating something was forced to drop his work and give

himself up for the whole summer to your husband's gout and

yourself. You and he have infected us with your idleness. I have

been swept off my feet; I have not put my hand to a thing for

weeks, during which sickness has been running its course

unchecked among the people, and the peasants have been pasturing

their cattle in my woods and young plantations. Go where you

will, you and your husband will always carry destruction in your

train. I am joking of course, and yet I am strangely sure that

had you stayed here we should have been overtaken by the most

immense desolation. I would have gone to my ruin, and you--you

would not have prospered. So go! E finita la comedia!

HELENA. [Snatching a pencil off ASTROFF'S table, and hiding it

with a quick movement] I shall take this pencil for memory!

ASTROFF. How strange it is. We meet, and then suddenly it seems

that we must part forever. That is the way in this world. As long

as we are alone, before Uncle Vanya comes in with a

bouquet--allow me--to kiss you good-bye--may I? [He kisses her on

the cheek] So! Splendid!

HELENA. I wish you every happiness. [She glances about her] For

once in my life, I shall! and scorn the consequences! [She kisses

him impetuously, and they quickly part] I must go.

ASTROFF. Yes, go. If the carriage is there, then start at once.

[They stand listening.]

ASTROFF. E finita!

VOITSKI, SEREBRAKOFF, MME. VOITSKAYA with her book, TELEGIN, and

SONIA come in.

SEREBRAKOFF. [To VOITSKI] Shame on him who bears malice for the

past. I have gone through so much in the last few hours that I

feel capable of writing a whole treatise on the conduct of life

for the instruction of posterity. I gladly accept your apology,

and myself ask your forgiveness. [He kisses VOITSKI three times.]

HELENA embraces SONIA.

SEREBRAKOFF. [Kissing MME. VOITSKAYA'S hand] Mother!

MME. VOITSKAYA. [Kissing him] Have your picture taken, Alexander,

and send me one. You know how dear you are to me.

TELEGIN. Good-bye, your Exce llency. Don't forget us.

SEREBRAKOFF. [Kissing his daughter] Good-bye, good-bye all.

[Shaking hands with ASTROFF] Many thanks for your pleasant

company. I have a deep regard for your opinions and your

enthusiasm, but let me, as an old man, give one word of advice at

parting: do something, my friend! Work! Do something! [They all

bow] Good luck to you all. [He goes out followed by MME.

VOITSKAYA and SONIA.]

VOITSKI [Kissing HELENA'S hand fervently] Good-bye--forgive me. I

shall never see you again!

HELENA. [Touched] Good-bye, dear boy.

She lightly kisses his head as he bends over her hand, and goes

out.

ASTROFF. Tell them to bring my carriage around too, Waffles.

TELEGIN. All right, old man.

ASTROFF and VOITSKI are left behind alone. ASTROFF collects his

paints and drawing materials on the table and packs them away in

a box.

ASTROFF. Why don't you go to see them off?

VOITSKI. Let them go! I--I can't go out there. I feel too sad. I

must go to work on something at once. To work! To work!

He rummages through his papers on the table. A pause. The

tinkling of bells is heard as the horses trot away.

ASTROFF. They have gone! The professor, I suppose, is glad to go.

He couldn't be tempted back now by a fortune.

MARINA comes in.

MARINA. They have gone. [She sits down in an arm-chair and knits

her stocking.]

SONIA comes in wiping her eyes.

SONIA. They have gone. God be with them. [To her uncle] And now,

Uncle Vanya, let us do something!

VOITSKI. To work! To work!

SONIA. It is long, long, since you and I have sat together at

this table. [She lights a lamp on the table] No ink! [She takes

the inkstand to the cupboard and fills it from an ink-bottle] How

sad it is to see them go!

MME. VOITSKAYA comes slowly in.

MME. VOITSKAYA. They have gone.

She sits down and at once becomes absorbed in her book. SONIA

sits down at the table and looks through an account book.

SONIA. First, Uncle Vanya, let us write up the accounts. They are

in a dreadful state. Come, begin. You take one and I will take

the other.

VOITSKI. In account with [They sit silently writing.]

MARINA. [Yawning] The sand-man has come.

ASTROFF. How still it is. Their pens scratch, the cricket sings;

it is so warm and comfortable. I hate to go. [The tinkling of

bells is heard.]

ASTROFF. My carriage has come. There now remains but to say

good-bye to you, my friends, and to my table here, and

then--away! [He puts the map into the portfolio.]

MARINA. Don't hurry away; sit a little longer with us.

ASTROFF. Impossible .

VOITSKI. [Writing] And carry forward from the old debt two

seventy-five--

WORKMAN comes in.

WORKMAN. Your carriage is waiting, sir.

ASTROFF. All right. [He hands the WORKMAN his medicine-case,

portfolio, and box] Look out, don't crush the portfolio!

WORKMAN. Very well, sir.

SONIA. When shall we see you again?

ASTROFF. Hardly before next summer. Probably not this winter,

though, of course, if anything should happen you will let me

know. [He shakes hands with them] Thank you for your kindness,

for your hospitality, for everything! [He goes up to MARINA and

kisses her head] Good-bye, old nurse!

MARINA. Are you going without your tea?

ASTROFF. I don't want any, nurse.

MARINA. Won't you have a drop of vodka?

ASTROFF. [Hesitatingly] Yes, I might.

MARINA goes out.

ASTROFF. [After a pause] My off-wheeler has gone lame for some

reason. I noticed it yesterday when Peter was taking him to

water.

VOITSKI. You should have him re-shod.

ASTROFF. I shall have to go around by the blacksmith's on my way

home. It can't be avoided. [He stands looking up at the map of

Africa hanging on the wall] I suppose it is roasting hot in

Africa now.

VOITSKI. Yes, I suppose it is.

MARINA comes back carrying a tray on which are a glass of vodka

and a piece of bread.

MARINA. Help yourself.

ASTROFF drinks

MARINA. To your good health! [She bows deeply] Eat your bread

with it.

ASTROFF. No, I like it so. And now, good-bye. [To MARINA] You

needn't come out to see me off, nurse.

He goes out. SONIA follows him with a candle to light him to the

carriage. MARINA sits down in her armchair.

VOITSKI. [Writing] On the 2d of February, twenty pounds of

butter; on the 16th, twenty pounds of butter again. Buckwheat

flour--[A pause. Bells are heard tinkling.]

MARINA. He has gone. [A pause.]

SONIA comes in and sets the candle stick on the table.

SONIA. He has gone.

VOITSKI. [Adding and writing] Total, fifteen--twenty-five--

SONIA sits down and begins to write.

[Yawning] Oh, ho! The Lord have mercy.

TELEGIN comes in on tiptoe, sits down near the door, and begins

to tune his guitar.

VOITSKI. [To SONIA, stroking her hair] Oh, my child, I am

miserable; if you only knew how miserable I am!

SONIA. What can we do? We must live our lives. [A pause] Yes, we

shall live, Uncle Vanya. We shall live through the long

procession of days before us, and through the long evenings; we

shall patiently bear the trials that fate imposes on us; we shall

work for others without rest, both now and when we are old; and

when our last hour comes we shall meet it humbly, and there,

beyond the grave, we shall say that we have suffered and wept,

that our life was bitter, and God will have pity on us. Ah, then

dear, dear Uncle, we shall see that bright and beautiful life; we

shall rejoice and look back upon our sorrow here; a tender

smile--and--we shall rest. I have faith, Uncle, fervent,

passionate faith. [SONIA kneels down before her uncle and lays

her head on his hands. She speaks in a weary voice] We shall

rest. [TELEGIN plays softly on the guitar] We shall rest. We

shall hear the angels. We shall see heaven shining like a jewel.

We shall see all evil and all our pain sink away in the great

compassion that shall enfold the world. Our life will be as

peaceful and tender and sweet as a caress. I have faith; I have

faith. [She wipes away her tears] My poor, poor Uncle Vanya, you

are crying! [Weeping] You have never known what happiness was,

but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait! We shall rest. [She embraces him] We

shall rest. [The WATCHMAN'S rattle is heard in the garden;

TELEGIN plays softly; MME. VOITSKAYA writes something on the

margin of her pamphlet; MARINA knits her stocking] We shall rest.

The curtain slowly falls.

End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Uncle Vanya, by Anton Checkov