STÁKHOV. Gúsev is a rascal, and needs a firm hand on him.
KOROTKÓV [shouts] No!
FÉDYA. Wait a bit — I’ll settle your differences.… Who won the Moscow Derby?
KOROTKÓV. He did — but what of that? It was only chance. If Crakus had not fallen ill.… [Enter footman].
AFRÉMOV. What is it?
FOOTMAN. A lady has come, and is asking for Mr. Protásov.
AFRÉMOV. What is she like? A real lady?
FOOTMAN. I don’t know her name, but she’s a real lady.
AFRÉMOV. Fédya! a lady to see you!
FÉDYA [startled] Who is it?
AFRÉMOV. He doesn’t know.
FOOTMAN. Shall I ask her into the dining-room?
FÉDYA. No, wait.… I’ll go myself and see.
Exeunt Fédya and footman.
KOROTKÓV. Who can it be? It must be Másha.
STÁKHOV. Which Másha?
KOROTKÓV. The gipsy. She’s in love with him, like a cat.
STÁKHOV. What a darling she is …! And how she sings!
AFRÉMOV. Charming! Tanyúsha and she! They sang with Peter yesterday.
STÁKHOV. What a lucky fellow that is!
AFRÉMOV. Why? Because the girls are all sweet on him? Not much luck in that!
KOROTKÓV. I can’t bear gipsies — nothing refined about them.
BUTKÉVICH. No, you can’t say that!
KOROTKÓV. I’d give the whole lot for one French woman!
AFRÉMOV. Yes, we know you — and your æsthetics!… I’ll go and see who it is. [Exit].
STÁKHOV. If it’s Másha, bring her in here! We’ll make her sing.… No, the gipsies aren’t what they used to be. Tanyúsha, now — by Gad!
BUTKÉVICH. And I believe they’re just the same.
STÁKHOV. Just the same? When instead of their own pieces they sing empty drawing-room songs?
BUTKÉVICH. Some drawing-room songs are very good.
KOROTKÓV. Will you bet I don’t get them to sing a drawing-room song so that you won’t know it from one of their own?
STÁKHOV. Korotkóv always wants to bet!
Enter Afrémov.
AFRÉMOV. I say, you fellows, it’s not Másha — and there’s no room he can ask her into but this. Let us clear out to the billiard room. [Exeunt].
Enter Fédya and Sásha.
SÁSHA [confused] Fédya, forgive me if it’s unpleasant — but for God’s sake hear me!… [Her voice trembles].
Fédya walks up and down the room. Sásha sits down, and follows him with her eyes.
SÁSHA. Fédya! Come home!
FÉDYA. Just listen to me, Sásha … I quite understand you, Sásha dear, and in your place I should do the same — I should try to find some way to bring back the old state of affairs. But if you were me, if — strange as it sounds — you, dear sensitive girl, were in my place … you would certainly have done as I did, and have gone away and ceased to spoil someone else’s life.
SÁSHA. Spoil? How? As if Lisa could live without you!
FÉDYA. Oh, Sásha dear! Dear heart!… She can, she can! And she will yet be happy — far happier than with me.
SÁSHA. Never!
FÉDYA. It seems so to you [Takes her hand] … But that’s not the point. The chief thing is, that I can’t!… You know, one folds a piece of thick paper this way and that a hundred times and still it holds together; but fold it once more, and it comes in half.… So it was with Lisa and me. It hurts me too much to look into her eyes — and she feels the same, believe me!
SÁSHA. No, no!
FÉDYA. You say “No,” but you yourself know that it is “Yes”!
SÁSHA. I can only judge by myself. If I were in her place, and you answered as you are doing, it would be dreadful!
FÉDYA. Yes, for you … [Pause; both are agitated].
SÁSHA [rises] Must things really remain so?
FÉDYA. I suppose …
SÁSHA. Fédya come back!
FÉDYA. Thank you, Sásha dear! You will always remain a precious memory to me.… But good-bye, dear heart!… Let me kiss you. [Kisses her forehead].
SÁSHA [agitated] No, I don’t say good-bye, and I don’t believe, and won’t believe … Fédya!
FÉDYA. Well then, listen! But give me your word that what I tell you, you won’t repeat to anybody — do you promise?
SÁSHA. Of course!
FÉDYA. Well then, listen, Sásha.… It’s true that I am her husband and the father of her child, but I am — superfluous! Wait, wait — don’t reply.… You think I’m jealous? Not at all! In the first place, I have no right; secondly, I have no cause. Victor Karénin is her old friend and mine too. He loves her, and she him.
SÁSHA. No!
FÉDYA. She does — as an honest, moral woman can, who does not allow herself to love anyone but her husband. But she loves, and will love him when this obstacle [points to himself] is removed; and I will remove it, and they shall be happy! [His voice trembles].
SÁSHA. Fédya, don’t talk like that!
FÉDYA. Why, you know very well that it’s true! And I shall be glad of their happiness, and it’s the best I can do. I shall not return, but shall give them their freedom.… Tell them so.… Don’t answer — and good-bye!
Kisses her on the forehead, and opens the door for her.
SÁSHA. Fédya — you are wonderful!
FÉDYA. Good-bye, good-bye!… [Exit Sásha].
FÉDYA. Yes, yes.… That’s the thing … that’s the thing!… [Rings].
Enter footman.
FÉDYA. Call your master.… [Exit footman].… And it’s true — it’s true.
Enter Afrémov.
FÉDYA. Come along!
AFRÉMOV. Have you settled matters?
FÉDYA. Splendidly! [Sings]
“And she swore by ev’ry power …”
Splendidly!… Where are they all?
AFRÉMOV. They’re playing billiards.
FÉDYA. That’s right — we will too [Sings]
“Rest here, just an hour …”
Come along!
Curtain.
Act III
Scene 1
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV, A sixty-year-old bachelor with moustaches, a retired army man, elegant, very dignified and melancholy-looking. Anna Dmítrievna Karénina (Victor’s mother), a fifty-year-old “grande dame” who tries to appear younger, and intersperses her remarks with French expressions.
Anna Dmítrievna’s sitting-room, furnished with expensive simplicity, and filled with souvenirs.
Anna Dmítrievna is writing. Footman enters.
FOOTMAN. Prince Abrézkov …
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. Yes, certainly … [Turns round and touches herself up before the looking-glass].
Enter Abrézkov.
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. J’espère que je ne force pas la consigne.… [Kisses her hand].
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. You know that vous êtes toujours le bienvenu — and to-day especially! You got my note?
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. I did, and this is my answer.
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. Ah, my friend! I begin quite to despair. Il est positivement ensorcelé! I never before knew him so insistent, so obstinate, so pitiless, and so indifferent to me. He has quite changed since that woman dismissed her husband!
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. What are the fActs? How do matters Actually stand?
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. He wants to marry her come what may.
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. And how about the husband?
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. He agrees to a divorce.
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. Dear me!
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. And he, Victor, lends himself to it, with all the abominations — lawyers, proofs of guilt — tout ça est dégoutant! And it doesn’t seem to repel him. I don’t understand him — he was always so sensitive, so reserved …
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. He is in love! Ah, when a man really loves …
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. Yes, but how is it that in our day love could be pure — could be a loving friendship, lasting through life? That kind of love I understand and value.
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. Nowadays the young generation no longer Contents itself with those ideal relations. La possession de l’âme ne leur suffit plus. It can’t be helped!… What can one do with him?
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. You must not say that of him — but it’s as if he were under a spell. It’s just as if he were someone else.… You know, I called on her. He begged me so. I went there, did not find her in, and left my card. Elle m’a fait demander si je ne pourrais la recevoir; and to-day [looks at the clock] at two o’clock, that is in a few minutes’ time, she will be here. I promised Victor I would receive her, but you understand how I am placed! I am not myself at all; and so, from old habit, I sent for you. I need your help!
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. Thank you.
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. This visit of hers, you understand, will decide the whole matter — Victor’s fate! I must either refuse my consent — but how can I?
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. Don’t you know her at all?
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. I have never seen her. But I’m afraid of her. A good woman could not consent to leave her husband, and he a good man, too! As a fellow-student of Victor’s he used to visit us, you know, and was very nice. But whatever he may be, quels que soient les torts qu’il a eu vis-à-vis d’elle, one must not leave one’s husband. She ought to bear her cross. What I don’t understand is how Victor, with the convictions he holds, can think of marrying a divorced woman! How often — quite lately — he has argued warmly with Spítsin in my presence, that divorce was incompatible with true Christianity; and now he himself is going in for it! Si elle a pu le charmer à un tel point … I am afraid of her! But I sent for you to know what you have to say to it all, and instead of that I have been doing all the talking myself! What do you think of it? Tell me your opinion. What ought I to do? You have spoken with Victor?
PRINCE ABRÉZKOV. I have: and I think he loves her. He has grown used to loving her; and love has got a great hold on him. He is a man who takes things slowly but firmly. What has once entered his heart will never leave it again; and he will never love anyone but her; and he can never be happy without her, or with anyone else.
ANNA DMÍTRIEVNA. And how willingly Várya Kazántseva would have married him! What a girl she is, and how she
