Ivanoff | Page 6

it were not so long and complicated that to tell it would take all night. [They walk up and down] Anna is a splendid, an exceptional woman. She has left her faith, her parents and her fortune for my sake. If I should demand a hundred other sacrifices, she would consent to every one without the quiver of an eyelid. Well, I am not a remarkable man in any way, and have sacrificed nothing. However, the story is a long one. In short, the whole point is, my dear doctor-- [Confused] that I married her for love and promised to love her forever, and now after five years she loves me still and I-- [He waves his hand] Now, when you tell me she is dying, I feel neither love nor pity, only a sort of loneliness and weariness. To all appearances this must seem horrible, and I cannot understand myself what is happening to me. [They go out.]
SHABELSKI comes in.
SHABELSKI. [Laughing] Upon my word, that man is no scoundrel, but a great thinker, a master-mind. He deserves a memorial. He is the essence of modern ingenuity, and combines in himself alone the genius of the lawyer, the doctor, and the financier. [He sits down on the lowest step of the terrace] And yet he has never finished a course of studies in any college; that is so surprising. What an ideal scoundrel he would have made if he had acquired a little culture and mastered the sciences! "You could make twenty thousand roubles in a week," he said. "You still hold the ace of trumps: it is your title." [Laughing] He said I might get a rich girl to marry me for it! [ANNA opens the window and looks down] "Let me make a match between you and Martha," says he. Who is this Martha? It must be that Balabalkina--Babakalkina woman, the one that looks like a laundress.
ANNA. Is that you, Count?
SHABELSKI. What do you want?
ANNA laughs.
SHABELSKI. [With a Jewish accent] Vy do you laugh?
ANNA. I was thinking of something you said at dinner, do you remember? How was it--a forgiven thief, a doctored horse.
SHABELSKI. A forgiven thief, a doctored horse, and a Christianised Jew are all worth the same price.
ANNA. [Laughing] You can't even repeat the simplest saying without ill-nature. You are a most malicious old man. [Seriously] Seriously, Count you are extremely disagreeable, and very tiresome and painful to live with. You are always grumbling and growling, and everybody to you is a blackguard and a scoundrel. Tell me honestly, Count, have you ever spoken well of any one?
SHABELSKI. Is this an inquisition?
ANNA. We have lived under this same roof now for five years, and I have never heard you speak kindly of people, or without bitterness and derision. What harm has the world done to you? Is it possible that you consider yourself better than any one else?
SHABELSKI. Not at all. I think we are all of us scoundrels and hypocrites. I myself am a degraded old man, and as useless as a cast-off shoe. I abuse myself as much as any one else. I was rich once, and free, and happy at times, but now I am a dependent, an object of charity, a joke to the world. When I am at last exasperated and defy them, they answer me with a laugh. When I laugh, they shake their heads sadly and say, "The old man has gone mad." But oftenest of all I am unheard and unnoticed by every one.
ANNA. [Quietly] Screaming again.
SHABELSKI. Who is screaming?
ANNA. The owl. It screams every evening.
SHABELSKI. Let it scream. Things are as bad as they can be already. [Stretches himself] Alas, my dear Sarah! If I could only win a thousand or two roubles, I should soon show you what I could do. I wish you could see me! I should get away out of this hole, and leave the bread of charity, and should not show my nose here again until the last judgment day.
ANNA. What would you do if you were to win so much money?
SHABELSKI. [Thoughtfully] First I would go to Moscow to hear the Gipsies play, and then--then I should fly to Paris and take an apartment and go to the Russian Church.
ANNA. And what else?
SHABELSKI. I would go and sit on my wife's grave for days and days and think. I would sit there until I died. My wife is buried in Paris. [A pause.]
ANNA. How terribly dull this is! Shall we play a duet?
SHABELSKI. As you like. Go and get the music ready. [ANNA goes out.]
IVANOFF and LVOFF appear in one of the paths.
IVANOFF. My dear friend, you left college last year, and you are still young and brave. Being thirty-five years old I have the right to advise you. Don't marry