Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (445 page)

Stanitsyn: If that’s the case . . . surely . . . pardon me . . . Permit me to ask you one thing, Viera Nikolaevna: Don’t deprive me of the happiness of seeing you at times . . . I assure you that I won’t bother you ... If you should . . . with some one else . . . You . . . with your chosen one . . . I assure you ... I shall always rejoice in your happiness . . . I know the value . . . Where do I come in? . . . You, undoubtedly, are right . . .

Viera: Let me think it over, Vladimir Petrovich.

Stanitsyn: What do you mean?

Viera: Leave me now for a short time . . . I’ll see you . . . I’ll talk it over with you . . .

Stanitsyn: No matter what you decide, I’ll consent without a murmur. [Bows, goes into the drawing - room, and shuts the door after hvm.]

Viera [looking after him, goes up to the garden door, and calls]: Gorski! Gorski, come in! [Goes to the front of the stage.]

[Gorski enters after a few moments.]

Gorski: Did you call me?

Viera: Did you know that Stanitsyn wanted to talk to me alone?

Gorski: Yes, he told me.

Viera: You knew what he wanted?

Gorski: No; not for sure.

Viera: He asked me to marry him.

Gorski: What did you tell him?

Viera: Nothing.

Gorski: You have not refused him?

Viera: I asked him to wait a while.

Gorski: Why?

Viera: Gorski, what do you mean by “Why?” What’s the matter with you; why are you looking at me so coldly; why are you talking so indifferently? How peculiarly you are smiling! You see that I have come to you for advice; that I am reaching out my hand to you, — and you . . .

Gorski: Pardon me, Viera Nikolaevna ...
At times, I feel woefully dull ... I have been walking in the sun without a hat . . . Don’t laugh . . . Truly, it is possible that that . . . And so Stanitsyn has asked for your hand, and you have asked me for my advice, and now I am asking you for your opinion about family life in general which can be compared with milk . . . milk soon gets sour.

Viera: Gorski! I do not understand you. Fifteen minutes ago, in this very place — [pointing to the piano] — recollect, is this what you said to me? Did I leave you in this frame of mind? What’s the matter with you? Are you making fun of me? Gorski, have I deserved that?

Gorski [painfully]: i assure you that I am not making fun of you.

Viera: How shall I explain this sudden change? Why can’t I understand you? Why, on the contrary, am I . . . Tell me, tell me, yourself, have I not always been as frank with you as a sister?

Gorski [somewhat agitated]: Viera Nikolaevna! I
     

Viera: Or, perhaps — see what you are forcing me to say — perhaps Stanitsyn awakens in you, — what shall I say, — jealousy?

Gorski: Why not?

Viera: Oh, do not pretend — you know only too well — After all, what am I talking about? Do I know what you are thinking about me, what your feelings are towards me?

Gorski: Viera Nikolaevna! Truly, it would be better for us to be separated for a time . . .

Viera: Gorski! . . . What did you say?

Gorski: Jesting aside . . . Our relations are peculiar . . . We are fated to misunderstand and to torment one another.

Viera: I do not resent any one’s tormenting me; but I do not want any one to make fun of me . . . Misunderstand one another? — why should we? Don’t I look you straight in the face? Do I like misunderstandings? Don’t I say everything I think? Am I not trustworthy? Gorski, if we are to be separated, let’s remain friends, at least.

Gorski: If we should part, would you think even once about me?

Viera: Gorski, you apparently like me to . . . you want me to confess. But I am not in the habit of either lying or exaggerating. Yes, I like you — I have feelings of affection for you, regardless of your peculiarities — and . . . that’s all. This friendly feeling may develop, may stop. It all depends upon you . . . This is what I am living through . . . Now you, you say what you want, what you are thinking. Don’t you understand that I am not asking you out of mere curiosity; that I must know, at least . . . [She stops and turns away.]

Gorski: Viera Nikolaevna! Listen to me: You were born fortunate. From childhood you have breathed freedom . . . The truth for you is as essential as light for the eyes; air for the lungs . . . Boldly, you look around you, and boldly, you march forward, because you don’t know life; therefore, life will have no impediments for you. But for God’s sake, do not demand the same boldness from an obscure and frightened man, such as I am; from a man, who is guilty before himself, and who has sinned incessantly, and will continue to sin . . . Don’t force from me that last decisive word, which I will never speak out loud in your presence, possibly because I have said it to myself a thousand times. I repeat to you: be indulgent with me or drop me altogether — wait a little longer . . .

Viera: Gorski, shall I believe you? Tell me, — I will believe you, — if you will tell me to believe you.

Gorski [with an involuntary movement]: The Lord knows . . .

Viera [after a moment’s silence]: Think it over and give me a better answer.

Gorski: I always give a better answer when I am not thinking.

Viera: You are as capricious as a little girl.

Gorski: And you are terribly contrary . . . But you’ll pardon me ... I believe I told you to “wait.” That un - pardonably foolish word simply dropped off my lips . . .

Viera [growing red quickly]: Really? Thank you for your frankness.

[Gorski starts to answer her, but the reception - room door opens suddenly and everybody except Mlle. Belnaime enters. Anna Vasilevna is in a very agreeable and jolly mood; Mukhin walks arm in arm with her. Stanitsyn throws a quick look at Viera and Gorski.]

Libanova: Just imagine, Eugene, we have completely ruined Mr. Mukhin. Literally ruined. But what a passionate player he is!

Gorski: I did not know that.

Libanova: C’est incroyable! He loses on every play . . . [Sits down.] Now, we can have a walk.

Mukhin [going up to the window and speaking with restrained anger]: We can hardly go for a walk. It is beginning to rain.

Varvara Ivanovna: The barometer has dropped down very much to - day . . . [Sits down in back of Libanova.]

Libanova: Is that so? Comme c’est contrariant! Eh bien, we must think up something . . . Eugene, and you, Waldemar, it’s your business.

Chukhanov: Does anyone want to play pool with me? [2Vo one answers him.] Otherwise, we’ll have a lunch and a little vodka. [Silence again.] Then I’ll go myself and drink to the health of the whole company. [Goes into the dining - room.]

[In the meanwhile Stanitsyn goes up to Viera but dares not speak to her . . . Gorski stands to one side. Mukhin examines the drawings on the table.]

Libanova: Well, ladies and gentlemen! Gorski, start something.

Gobski: If you want me to, I’ll read to you the preface to Buffon’s “History of Natural Science.”

Libanova: Stop your nonsense.

Gobski: Then let’s play petits jeus innocents.

Libanova: Whatever you like. However, I am not talking for myself . . . the manager must be waiting for me in the office . . . Has he come, Varvara Ivanovna?

Varvara Ivanovna: Very likely he has come.

Libanova: Find out, my dear.

[Varvara Ivanovna goes out.]

Libanova: Viera, come here . . .
Why are you so pale? Aren’t you well?

Viera: I am all right.

Libanova: That’s good. Oh, yes, Waldemar, don’t forget to remind me. ... I want you to do something for me in the city.
[To Viera.] II est si complaisant!

Viera: II est plus que cela, mama, il est bien.

[Stanitsyn smiles.]

Libanova: What is it you are examining so attentively, Mr. Mukhin?

Mukhin: Italian views.

Libanova: Oh, yes. I bought those . . . un souvenir . . . I love Italy ... I was very happy there! [Sighs.]

Varvara Ivanovna [entering]: Fedot has come, Anna Vasilevna.

Libanova [getting up]: He has come? [To Mukhin.] Find — there is a view of Lake Maggiore. It is beautiful! [To Varvara Ivanovna.] Is the bailiff there too?

Varvara Ivanovna: He is there.

Libanova: Well, good - bye, mes enfants . . . Eugene, I leave them in your care. Amusez - vous . . . Mlle. Beinaime is coming to your assistance.

[Mlle. Beinaime enters from the reception - room.]

Libanova: Come, Varvara Ivanovna. [They go out into the reception - room.]

[A short silence ensues.]

Mlle. Beinaime [dryly]: Et bien, que ferons - nous?

Mukhin: Yes, what are we going to do?

Stanitsyn: That is the question.

Gorski: Hamlet said that before you, Vladimir Petrovich! [Suddenly livening up.] Well, let’s, let’s . . . You see how it pours . . . Really, why should we sit with our hands folded?

Stanitsyn: I am ready . . . and you, Viera Nikolaevna?

Viera [who has remained immovable all the time]: I am also . . . ready.

Stanitsyn: That’s fine!

Mukhin: Have you thought up something, Evgeni Andreevich?

Gorski: I have, Ivan Pavlych! This is what we’ll do: we’ll sit around the table . . .

Mlle. Beinaime: Ah, ce sera charmant!

Gorski: N’est - ce pas? We’ll write our names on pieces of paper, and the person whose name is drawn out first, will have to tell some impossible, fantastic story — about himself, or somebody else, or anything at all. Libert^ entiere, as Anna Vasilevna says.

Stanitsyn: Very well, very well.

Mlle. Beinaime: Ah! Tres bien, tres bien.
[Together.]