VARVARA (in a state of rapture): Why, of course not! It’s just like Nicholas! It’s just like me! Being carried away like that, blind generosity taking up the defense of anything weak, infirm, perhaps even unworthy . . . (She looks at STE PAN TROFIMOVICH.) . . . protecting the creature for years on end . . . Why, it’s me all over again! Oh, I have been guilty toward Nicholas!
As for that poor creature, it’s very simple: I shall adopt her.
PETER: And you will be doing right. For her brother persecutes her. He got it into his head that he had a right to dispose of her allowance. Not only does he take everything she has, not only does he beat her and take her money, but he drinks it all up, he insults her benefactor, threatens to drag him before the law if the allowance is not paid to him directly. In fact, he considers Nicholas’s gift as if it were a sort of tribute.
LISA: A tribute for what?
PETER: Well, how should I know? He talks of his sister’s honor, of his family. But honor is a vague word, isn’t it? Very vague.
SHATOV: Is it a vague word, really? (All look at him.) Dasha, is it a vague word to you? (DASHA looks at him.) Answer me.
DASHA: No, brother, honor exists.
(STAVROGIN enters, VARVARA rises and goes rapidly toward him.)
VARVARA: Oh, Nicholas, will you forgive me? STAVROGIN: I am the one to be forgiven, Mother. I should have explained to you. But I was sure that Peter Verkhovensky would inform you. VARVARA: Yes, he did. And I am happy. . . . You were chivalrous.
STEPAN: Sublime is the word.
STAVROGIN: Chivalrous, indeed! So that’s how you see it? I suppose I owe this compliment to Peter Verkhovensky. And you must believe him, Mother. He lies only in exceptional circumstances, (PETER VERKHOVENSKY and STAVROGIN look at each other and smile.) Good, but I beg your forgiveness once more for my attitude. (In a harsh, crisp voice) In any case, the subject is closed now. There’s no point in bringing it up again.
(LISA bursts out with a hysterical laugh.) STAVROGIN: Good day, Lisa. I hope you are well. LISA: Please forgive me. I believe you know Maurice Nicolaevich. Good Lord, Maurice, how is it possible to be so tall?
MAURICE: I don’t understand.
LISA: Oh, nothing … I was just thinking. . . . Supposing that I were lame, you would lead me through the streets, you would be chivalrous, wouldn’t you? You would be devoted to me? MAURICE: Most certainly, Lisa. But why talk of such a misfortune?
LISA: Most certainly you would be chivalrous. Well, you so tall and I crippled and deformed, we’d make a ridiculous couple.
(VARVARA STAVROGIN and PRASCOVYA DROZDOV go toward LISA. But STAVROGIN turns and goes toward DASHA.)
STAVROGIN: I’ve heard of your marriage, Dasha, and I want to congratulate you. (DASHA turns her head away.) My congratulations are sincere.
DASHA: I know it.
PETER: Why these congratulations? Am I to assume that there is some good news? PRASCOVYA: Yes, Dasha is getting married. PETER: Why, it’s wonderful! Accept my con gratulations too. But you have lost your bet. You told me in Switzerland that you would never get married. Decidedly, it’s an epidemic. Do you know that my father is getting married too? STEPAN: Peter!
PETER: Well, didn’t you write me so? To be sure, you weren’t very clear. First you declare yourself to be delighted and then you ask me to save you; you tell me that the girl is a pure diamond, but that you must get married to cover sins committed in Switzerland; you ask my consent— what a topsyturvy world this is!—and you beg me to save you from this marriage. (To the others, laughing) What on earth could he mean? But that’s the way his generation is—big words and vague ideas! (He seems suddenly to become aivare of the effect of his ivords.) Well, what’s the matter? … It looks as if I’ve pulled a boner. . . .
VARVARA (stepping toward him with flushed face) : Did Stepan Trofimovich write you that in so many words?
PETER: Yes, here is his letter. It is long, like all of his letters. I never read them all the way through, I must confess. Besides, he doesn’t care, for he writes them especially for posterity. But there’s no harm in what he says.
VARVARA: Nicholas, was it Stepan Trofimovich who informed you of this marriage? In the same manner, I suppose?
STAVROGIN: He did write me, in fact, but a verynoble letter.
VARVARA: That’s enough! (She turns toward STEPAN TROFIMOVICH.) Stepan Trofimovich, I expect a great service of you. I expect you to leave this house and never appear in my presence again. (STEPAN TROFIMOVICH steps toward her and bows with great dignity, then goes over toward DASHA.) STEPAN: Dasha, forgive me for all this. I thank you for having accepted.
DASHA: I forgive you, Stepan Trofimovich. I feel nothing but affection and esteem for you. You, at least, continue to respect me.
PETER (striking his forehead): Now I understand! Why, he meant with Dasha! Forgive me, Dasha. I didn’t know. If only my father had had the sense to tell me instead of indulging in innuendo! STEPAN (looking at him): Is it possible that you knew nothing! Is it possible that you are not putting on an act?
PETER: Well, you see, Varvara Stavrogin, he’s not only an aged child, he’s also an aged naughty child. How could I have understood? A sin committed in Switzerland! Just try to make out what he means!
STAVROGIN: Be quiet, Peter, your father acted nobly. And you have insulted Dasha, whom all of us here respect.
(SHATOV gets up and walks toward STAVROGIN, who smiles at him but ceases to smile when SHATOV is close to him. Everyone stares at them. Silence. Then SHATOV slaps him as hard as he can. VARVARA screams, STAVROGIN seizes SHATOV by the shoulders, then lets him go and puts his hands behind his back, SHATOV backs up as STAVROGIN stares at him. STAVROGIN smiles, bows, and leaves.) LISA: Maurice, come here. Give me your hand! (Pointing to STAVROGIN) YOU see that man? You won’t see any better. Maurice, before all let me declare that I have agreed to be your wife! MAURICE: Are you sure, Lisa, are you sure?
LISA (staring at the door through which STAVROGIN has gone out, her face bathed in tears): Yes, yes, I am sure!
CURTAIN
SECOND PART
ISsm*
SCENE 5
At Varvara Stavrogin,s. ALEXEY YEGOROVICH holds on his arm a coat, a scarf, and a hat. In front of him STAVROGIN is dressing to go out. PETER VERKHOVENSKY, looking sullen, is near the table.
STAVROGIN (to PETER) : And if you speak to me again like that, you will feel my cane.
PETER: There was nothing insulting in my proposition. If you really think of marrying Lisa . . . STAVROGIN: . . . you can free me from the only obstacle separating me from her. I know it, but don’t say it again. I’d rather not have to use my cane on you. My gloves, Alexey.
ALEXEY: It is raining, sir. At what time shall I expect you?
STAVROGIN: At two o’clock at the latest. ALEXEY: Very well, sir. (STAVROGIN takes his cane and is about to leave by the small door.) May God bless you, sir. But only if you are planning a good deed.
STAVROGIN: What?
ALEXEY: May God bless you. But only if you are planning a good deed.
STAVROGIN (after a silence and with his hand on ALEXEY’S arm): My good Alexey, I remember the time when you used to carry me in your arms.
(He goes out. ALEXEY leaves by a door upstage.
PETER VERKHOVENSKY looks around him, then goes over and ransacks the drawer of a secretary. He takes out some letters and reads them, STEPAN TROFIMOVICH enters, PETER hides the letters.)
STEPAN: Alexey Yegor ovich told me you were here, son.
PETER: Why, what are you doing in this house? I thought you had been driven out.
STEPAN: I came to get the last of my things, and I am going to leave without hope of returning and without recriminations.
PETER: Oh, you’ll come back! A parasite is always a parasite.
STEPAN: I don’t like the way you talk to me. [PETER: You have always said that truth was paramount. The truth is that you pretended to be in love with Varvara Petrovna and that she pretended not to see that you were in love with her. As a reward for such silliness, she was keeping you. Hence you are a parasite. I advised her yesterday to put you in a suitable home.
STEPAN: YOU spoke to her about me?
PETER: Yes. She told me that tomorrow she would have a conversation with you to settle everything. The truth is that she wants to see you squirm once more. She showed me your letters. How I laughed—good Lord, how I laughed! STEPAN: YOU laughed. Have you no heart?] Do you know what a father is?
PETER: You taught me what a father is. You never provided for me. I wasn’t weaned yet when you shipped me off to Berlin by the post. Like a parcel.
STEPAN: Wretch! Although I sent you by the post, my heart continued to bleed! PETER: Mere words!
STEPAN: Are you or aren’t you my son, monster? PETER: You must know better than I. To be sure, fathers are inclined to have illusions about such things.
STEPAN: Shut up!
PETER: I will not. And don’t whimper. You are a patriotic, sniveling, whimpering
