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Vozhevatov (to Gavrilo). Gavrilo, bring us some of my tea, you understand?… Mine!
Gavrilo. Yes, sir. (He goes off.)
Knurov. Do you drink a special kind?
Vozhevatov. It’s really champagne, but he’ll pour it into teapots and serve it in tea glasses with saucers.
Knurov. That’s smart.
Vozhevatov. Necessity is the mother of invention, Moky Parmenych.
Knurov. Are you going to Paris, to the exposition?
Vozhevatov. After I’ve bought the boat and sent it down the river for cargo, then I’ll go.
Knurov. Me too one of these days. I already have somebody waiting for me there.
Gavrilo brings a tray with two teapots containing champagne and two glasses.
Vozhevatov (pouring). Have you heard the news, Moky Parmenych? Larisa Dmitriyevna is getting married.
Knurov. Getting married! You can’t mean it! Who to?
Vozhevatov. Karandyshov.
Knurov. What kind of nonsense is that! It’s insanity! What’s Karandyshov! You know he’s no match for her, Vasily Danilych.
Vozhevatov. Of course he’s no match! But what can they do, where can they find a husband for her? After all, she doesn’t have any dowry.
Knurov. Even girls without a dowry can find good husbands.
Vozhevatov. Times have changed. There used to be enough eligible bachelors, even for girls without a dowry. But now there’s just enough for girls with a dowry, no extras for those without. Do you think Kharita Ignatyevna would marry her daughter off to Karandyshov if she could find anyone better?
Knurov. She’s a resourceful woman.
Vozhevatov. She can’t be Russian.
Knurov. Why not?
Vozhevatov. She’s so energetic.
Knurov. How could she make such a mistake? The Ogudalovs have a respectable family name, and just like that a marriage to the likes of Karandyshov!.. And with all her cleverness… their house is always full of bachelors!.
Vozhevatov. The men all go to her house because it’s so much fun there. Her daughter’s pretty, plays different instruments, sings, has a free and easy manner, all that attracts them. But getting married to her is something to think about.
Knurov. The other two daughters got married off.
Vozhevatov. They got married off all right, but you should ask them how sweet their life is. The oldest girl was taken away by some mountaineer, a young prince from the Caucasus. What fun that was! When he first saw her, he started to shake all over, he even began to cry. He stayed near her for a couple of weeks, he’d hold on to his dagger, and his eyes flashed so that nobody else came close. So they got married and went off, but they say he didn’t even get her to the Caucasus, that he killed her on the way from jealousy. The other girl got married too, to some sort of foreigner, only later it turned out that he was no foreigner at all but a card shark.
Knurov. Madame Ogudalov wasn’t dumb the way she figured it out. She doesn’t have any money and can’t give a dowry, so she keeps open house and receives everybody.
Vozhevatov. She likes to have fun herself, but she just doesn’t have the means for such a life.
Knurov. Then where does she get the money?
Vozhevatov. The suitors pay. If a man likes the daughter, than he shells out. Later on the mother will want money from the groom to pay for the dowry, only he shouldn’t ask for the dowry.
Knurov. Well, I don’t think it’s just the suitors who pay for it. Take you, for example. It must cost you a pretty penny to visit the family so often.
Vozhevatov. It won’t ruin me, Moky Parmenych. What’s a man to do? He has to pay for his pleasures, they don’t come free. And being in their home is a great pleasure.
Knurov. It really is a pleasure, you’re right there.
Vozhevatov. And yet you yourself are almost never there.
Knurov. It’s awkward; there’s so much riffraff there. You run into them later and they exchange greetings, then worm their way into a conversation. Karandyshov is one of them. What kind of an acquaintance is he for me!
Vozhevatov. Yes, their home is like a bazaar.
Knurov. So what’s the good of it? One fellow goes up to Larisa Dmitriyevna with his compliments, another with tender remarks, and they buzz away so you can’t get in a single word with her. I’d like to see her more often when she’s alone, without any interference.
Vozhevatov. Somebody ought to marry her.
Knurov. Marry her! Not everybody can, and not everybody even wants to. Me, for example, I’m a married man.
Vozhevatov. Then there’s nothing to be done. The grapes are pretty but not for picking,[2 - Altered quotation from the fable “The Fox and the Grapes” (Lisitsa i vinograd) by I. Krylov based on Aesop’s fable with the same title.] Moky Parmenych.
Knurov. You think so?
Vozhevatov. That’s the way it seems. They don’t follow those procedures. There were a few times when they could have, but they weren’t tempted. It’s got to be marriage even if that means Karandyshov.
Knurov. But it would be nice to make a trip to the Paris exposition with a girl like that.
Vozhevatov. Yes, that wouldn’t be boring, a pleasant trip that. What plans you have, Moky Parmenych!
Knurov. And you’ve never had any plans like that?
Vozhevatov. How could I! I’m green at such things.
I just don’t have any boldness with women. You know, I was brought up in a terribly moral, old-fashioned way.
Knurov. Oh come now! Your chances are better than mine; you have youth, a big thing. And you won’t begrudge the money; you’re buying the boat cheap, so you can take it out of the profits. Still, you must realize it would cost you as much as the Swallow.
Vozhevatov. Every piece of goods has its price, Moky Parmenych. I may be young, but I won’t overdo it. I won’t give any more than I have to.
Knurov. Don’t guarantee it! At your age it wouldn’t take much to fall in love, and then we’d see what calculations you’d make!
Vozhevatov. No, Moky Parmenych, somehow or other I don’t notice that sort of thing in myself.
Knurov. What sort of thing?
Vozhevatov. What they call love.
Knurov. That’s commendable, you’ll make a good merchant. All the same, you’re a lot closer to her than the others.
Vozhevatov. But what does my being close to her amount to? Sometimes I’ll pour her an extra glass of champagne when her mother’s not looking, learn a song from her, bring her novels, the kind they don’t give girls to read.
Knurov. In other words, you’re corrupting her a little.
Vozhevatov. What’s that to me! After all, I’m not forcing myself on her. Why should I worry about her morals? I’m not her guardian.
Knurov. I just can’t get over it. Does Larisa Dmitriyevna really have no other suitors besides Karandyshov?
Vozhevatov. She had some, but she’s terribly naive.
Knurov. Naive, how? You mean she’s stupid?
Vozhevatov. She’s not stupid, but she’s not shrewd at all, she doesn’t take after her mother in that. Her mother’s always shrewd and full of flattering, but she for no reason at all will suddenly come out with something she doesn’t have to.
Knurov. You mean the truth?
Vozhevatov. Yes, the truth. But that’s something that young women without a dowry just can’t do. If she likes somebody, she doesn’t hide it at all. Last year Sergey Sergeyich Paratov showed up, and she couldn’t see enough of him. He kept coming for a couple of months, beat away all the other suitors, and then he flew the coop. Nobody knew where he disappeared to.
Knurov. Whatever possessed him to do that?
Vozhevatov. Who knows? He’s a hard one to figure out. But you should have seen how she loved him, she almost died from grief. How sentimental she was! (He laughs.) She set out to try and catch up with him, but her mother got her at the second stop and brought her back.
Knurov. And were there any suitors after Paratov?
Vozhevatov. Two came from somewhere. One was an old man with the gout. Then there was a manager for some prince or other; that manager had gotten rich, but he was always drunk. Larisa didn’t want to have anything to do with them, but she had to be nice to them, Mama’s orders.
Knurov. Her lot is not a happy one.
Vozhevatov. No, it’s even absurd. Sometimes there were a few tears in her eyes, and you could see she was about to cry, but Mama told her to smile. And then a cashier turned up. He threw his money all about, enough to cover Kharita Ignatyevna with it. He won the field over everybody, but he didn’t strut for long, they arrested him at his home. What a great scandal that was! (He laughs.) For about a month the Ogudalovs couldn’t go anywhere. It was then that Larisa told her mother point-blank, “We’ve put up with enough of this shame. I’ll marry the first one who comes along, whether he’s rich or poor. I’m not going to be choosy.” And up pops Karandyshov with his proposal.
Knurov. Where did this Karandyshov come from?
Vozhevatov. He’s been hanging around their house a long time, about three years. They didn’t chase him away, but they didn’t show him much respect either. When the lull set in and there weren’t any rich suitors in sight they held onto Karandyshov and gave him some invitations so the house wouldn’t be empty. But when some rich guy dropped in, it was simply pitiful to look at Karandyshov. They didn’t even talk to him or even look at him. And there he sat in his corner, playing his different roles, throwing out savage looks, pretending to be in despair. Once he wanted to shoot himself, but nothing came of that, he just made everybody laugh. And here’s the funny part. Once they had a costume party, and Paratov was there. So Karandyshov dressed himself up as a highway robber, took an axe in his hands, and threw wild looks at everybody, especially Sergey Sergeyich.
Knurov. Then what?
Vozhevatov. They took his axe away from him and told him to change his clothes or else he’d have to leave!
Knurov. What it all means is, he’s being rewarded for being faithful. He’s happy, I’m sure.
Vozhevatov. Happy and then some, glowing like an orange. It’s so funny! He’s really a nut. What he ought to do is marry her as soon as he can and take her away to his little estate till the talk dies down. The Ogudalovs would like that. But instead he drags Larisa along the boulevard on his arm with his head raised so high he’d run right into you if you didn’t watch out. And then for some reason he’s taken to wearing glasses, but he never used to wear them. When he bows he hardly nods his head, and he’s taken on a certain air. Before you’d hardly hear a word out of him, but now it’s always, “I this, I that, I want, I wish.”
Knurov. He’s like the Russian peasant. It’s not enough fun just getting drunk. He has to act high and mighty so everybody takes notice. So he gets up on his high horse, and they give him a thrashing or two. Then he’s satisfied and goes off to sleep.
Vozhevatov. Yes, I suppose that’s the sort of thing Karandyshov has to go through.
Knurov. Poor girl! She must suffer just looking at him.
Vozhevatov. He got the idea of decorating his apartment, and here’s what he dreamed up. In his study he put up a cheap tapestry on the wall, and he hung up daggers and pistols from Tula. That would be no surprise if he were a hunter, but he’s never held a gun in his life. So he drags you to his place and shows it all off to you, and you have to praise him for it or he’ll take offense. He’s a proud man, envious too. He ordered a horse from the country, some nag or other with different colors, and he has a little coachman who wears a coat handed down from a big coachman. And with that camel he takes Larisa Dmitriyevna driving; he sits there so proudly, as if he were driving with a thousand trotters. He walks up from the boulevard and shouts to the constable, “Have them bring my carriage!” So that carriage of his comes driving up with all its music, the screws and nuts all jangling out of tune, and the springs shaking as if they’re alive.
Knurov. I’m sorry for poor Larisa Dmitriyevna. I’m sorry for her.
Vozhevatov. Why are you so sorry for her?
Knurov. Don’t you see? Here’s a woman made for luxury. A precious jewel demands a costly setting.
Vozhevatov. And a good jeweler.
Knurov. That’s the whole truth. A jeweler and not just an ordinary workman; he has to be an artist. If she’s surrounded by poverty and married to a fool besides, she’ll either perish or become common.
Vozhevatov. But I think she’ll throw him over pretty soon. She’s like a dead woman now, but when she recovers and takes a closer look at her husband, sees what he’s like… (Quietly.) There they are now, speak of the devil.
Karandyshov, Madame Ogudalov, and Larisa enter. Vozhevatov stands up and bows. Knurov takes out a newspaper. Larisa sits down on a bench by the railing and looks through binoculars at the Volga.
Mme Ogudalov (walking over to the table). Greetings, gentlemen!
Karandyshov follows her over. Vozhevatov gives his hand to both of them. Knurov silently and not rising from his place gives his hand to Mme Ogudalov, nods slightly to Karandyshov, and buries himself in his newspaper.
Vozhevatov. Kharita Ignatyenva, please sit down. (He moves a chair forward.)
Mme Ogudalov sits down.
Wouldn’t you like some tea?
Karandyshov sits down some distance away.
Mme Ogudalov. All right, I’ll take a cup.
Vozhevatov. Ivan, bring a cup and add some boiling water.
Ivan takes the teapot and goes off.
Karandyshov. What a crazy idea to drink tea at this time of day? It amazes me.
Vozhevatov. It’s a question of thirst, Yuly Kapitonych, but just what I should drink I don’t know. Give me your advice, I’d appreciate it.
Karandyshov (looks at his watch). At the present moment it’s noon, so you could have a small glass of vodka, a chop, and then a small glass of good wine. That’s how I always lunch.
Vozhevatov (to Mme Ogudalov). Now that’s what I call living, Kharita Ignatyenva, it makes a man jealous. (To Karandyshov.) If I could only live one little day in your shoes. A bit of vodka, a bit of wine! But we can’t do that, sir, we might lose our powers of reasoning. You can do what you want, you’re not running through your capital because you don’t have any, but we poor devils were born into the world with a lot of big deals to attend to, so we’re not allowed to lose our reason.
Ivan brings the teapot and a cup.
Kharita Ignatyenva, please! (He pours out a cup and hands it to her.) I drink my tea cold so people won’t say I use hot drinks.
