VARVARA: Bantered?
PRASCOVYA: Yes, that’s the word. In any case, Lisa constantly tried to start a quarrel with Nicholas. Sometimes when she was aware that he was talking with Dasha, you couldn’t hold her back. Really, my dear, it was unbearable. The doctors forbade me to get excited, and, furthermore, I was so bored on the shores of that lake, and I had a toothache. Since then I have learned that the Lake of Geneva predisposes people to toothaches, and that that’s one of its peculiarities. Finally Nicholas left. In my opinion, they will make up. VARVARA: Such a slight misunderstanding doesn’t mean a thing. Besides, I know my Dasha too well. It’s utterly absurd. Moreover, I shall get at the facts of the matter. (She rings.)
PRASCOVYA: No, I assure you . . . (ALEXEY YEGOROVICH enters.)
VARVARA: Tell Dasha that I am waiting for her. (ALEXEY YEGOROVICH leaves.)
PRASCOVYA: I was wrong, dear, to speak to you of Dasha. There was nothing but the most ordinary conversations between her and Nicholas, and there was no whispering. At least in my presence. But I felt Lisa’s irritation. And then that lake— you have no idea! It does calm you, to be sure, but only because it bores you. Yet, if you know what I mean, simply by boring you it irritates you. . . . (DASHA enters.) My Dashenka, my little one! How I hate giving you up. We shall miss our good evening conversations in Geneva. Oh! Geneva! Au revoir, chere! (To DASHA) AU revoir, ma mignonne, ma cherie, ma colombe. (She leaves.)
VARVARA: Sit down there, (DASHA sits down.) Embroider, (DASHA picks up an embroidery frame from the table.) Tell me about your trip.
DASHA (in a steady, dull voice, somewhat tired): Oh! I had a good time, and I learned a great deal. Europe is very instructive—yes, instructive. We are so far behind them. They—
VARVARA: Forget Europe. You have nothing particular to tell me?
DASHA (looks at her): No, nothing.
VARVARA: Nothing on your mind, or on your conscience, or in your heart?
DASHA (with a sort of colorless conviction) : Nothing.
VARVARA: I was sure of it. I never had the slightest doubt about you. I have treated you as my daughter, and I am aiding your brother. You wouldn’t do anything that might hurt me, would you?
DASHA: No, nothing, God bless you.
VARVARA: Listen. I have been thinking about you. Drop your embroidery and come over near me. (DASHA moves closer to her.) Do you want to get married? (DASHA looks at her.) Wait a moment, don’t answer. I am thinking of someone older than you. But you are a reasonable girl. Besides, he is still very presentable. I am thinking of Stepan Trofimovich, who was your professor
and whom you have always esteemed. Well? (DASHA keeps on looking at her fixedly.) I know, he is frivolous. He whimpers and he thinks about himself too much. But he has decided qualities that you will appreciate, particularly because I ask it of you. He deserves to be loved because he is defenseless. Do you understand that? (DASHA nods affirmatively. Bursting out) I was sure of it; I was sure of you. As for him, he will love you because he is obligated! He must adore you! Listen, Dasha. He will obey you. Unless you are an idiot, you can force him to. But never push him to extremes—that is the first rule of conjugal life. Oh, Dasha, there is no greater happiness than sacrificing oneself. Besides, you will be doing me a great favor, and that is the important thing. But I am not forcing you in any way. It is up to you to decide. Speak.
DASHA (slowly): If it is absolutely necessary, I shall do it.
VARVARA: Absolutely? What are you alluding to, my child? (DASHA lowers her head in silence.) What you have just said is a stupidity. I am going to marry you off, to be sure, but not out of necessity, you understand. The idea just came to me, that’s all. There’s nothing to hide, is there? DASHA: No. I shall do as you wish.
VARVARA: Hence you consent. So let’s get to the details. Right after the ceremony, I shall give you fifteen thousand rubles. Out of those fifteen thousand, you will give eight thousand to Stepan Trofimovich. Allow him to receive his friends once a week. If they should come more often, put them out. Moreover, I shall be there to keep an eye on things.
DASHA: Has Stepan Trofimovich said anything to you about this?
VARVARA: No, he hasn’t said anything. But he will. (She rises suddenly and throws her black shaivl over her shoulders, DASHA continues to stare at her.) You are an ungrateful girl! What are you thinking of? Do you think I am going to compromise you? Why, he will come on his knees to beg you to marry him! He will be bursting with happiness, that’s how it will be!
(STEPAN TROFIMOVICH enters, DASHA rises.) STEPAN: Oh! Dashenka, my pretty girl, what a delight to find you among us again. (He kisses her.) Here you are at last!
VARVARA: Leave her alone. You have all of life ahead of you to caress her. And I have something to say to you.
(DASHA leaves.)
STEPAN: Soit, mon amie, soit. But you know how much I love my little pupil.
VARVARA: I know. But don’t keep calling her «my little pupil.» She is grownup! It’s irritating! Hum, you have been smoking.
STEPAN: Cestadire . . .
VARVARA: Sit down. That’s not the question. The question is that you must get married.
STEPAN (stupefied): Get married? A third time, and at the age of fiftythree!
VARVARA: Well, what difference does that make? At fiftythree we are at the peak of life. I know what I am saying, for I am almost there. Besides, you are a handsome man.
STEPAN: YOU have always been indulgent toward me, mon amie. Mais je dois vons dire . . . je ne m’attendais pas . . . Yes, at the age of fifty we are not yet old. That is obvious. (He looks at her.)
VARVARA: I shall help you. She will not be without a dowry. Oh! I forgot: you are marrying Dasha. STEPAN (giving a start): Dasha . . . But I thought . . . Dasha! But she’s only a child!
VARVARA: A twentyyearold child, grace a Dieul Don’t roll your eyes that way, please; you’re not in the circus. You are intelligent, but you don’t understand anything. You need someone to take care of you constantly. What will you do if I die? Dasha will be an excellent housekeeper for you. Moreover, I shall be there; I’m not going to die right away. Besides, she is an angel of kindness. (Bursting out in anger) You understand, I am telling you that she is an angel of kindness! STEPAN: I know, but such a difference in age . . . I was thinking … If necessary, you see, someone of my own age . . .
VARVARA: Well, you will educate her, you will develop her heart. You will give her an honorable name. Perhaps you will be her savior—yes, her savior. …
STEPAN: But what about her? . . . Have you talked to her?
VARVARA: Don’t worry about her. Of course, it is up to you to urge her, to beg her to do you that honor, you understand. But don’t worry, for / shall be there. Besides, you love her. (STEPAN TROFIMOVICH rises and staggers.) What’s the matter with yon?
STEPAN: I … I accept, of course, of course, because you wish it, but I should never have thought that you would agree . . .
VARVARA: What do you mean?
STEPAN: Without an overriding reason, without an urgent reason … I should never have thought that you could accept seeing me married to … to another woman.
VARVARA (rises suddenly): Another woman! (She looks at him with flashing eyes, then heads toward the door. Before reaching it, she turns to him.) I shall never forgive you, never, you understand, for having imagined for one second that between you and me . . . (She is on the point of leaving, hut GRIGORIEV enters.) I . . . Good day, Grigoriev. (To STEPAN TROFIMOVICH) So you have accepted. I shall arrange the details myself. Moreover, I am on my way to Prascovya’s to tell her about the plan. And take care of yourself. Don’t let yourself get any older! (She leaves.)
GRIGORIEV: Our friend seems thoroughly upset. STEPAN: In other words . . . Oh, I shall eventually lose all patience and cease wanting . . . GRIGORIEV: Wanting what?
STEPAN: I agreed because I am bored with life and nothing matters to me. But if she exasperates me, things might begin to matter to me. I shall be aware of the insult and I shall refuse.
GRIGORIEV: YOU will refuse?
STEPAN: TO get married. Oh, I shouldn’t have talked about it! But you are rny friend; it is as if I were talking to myself. Yes, I am asked to marry Dasha, and I accepted in principle, I accepted. At my age! Oh, my dear friend, for any soul that is the least bit proud, the least bit free, marriage is death itself. Marriage will corrupt me and sap my energy; I shall no longer be able to serve the cause of humanity. Children will come, and God alone will know whether they are mine. No, after all, they won’t be mine; the wise man can face the truth. And I have accepted! Because I am bored. No, it’s not because I am bored that I accepted. But there’s that debt. .
