Uncle Vanya | Page 5

hope of praise in the future or now."
Poor paper! He ought to write his autobiography; he would make a
really splendid subject for a book! Imagine it, the life of a retired
professor, as stale as a piece of hardtack, tortured by gout, headaches,
and rheumatism, his liver bursting with jealousy and envy, living on the
estate of his first wife, although he hates it, because he can't afford to
live in town. He is everlastingly whining about his hard lot, though, as
a matter of fact, he is extraordinarily lucky. He is the son of a common
deacon and has attained the professor's chair, become the son-in-law of
a senator, is called "your Excellency," and so on. But I'll tell you

something; the man has been writing on art for twenty-five years, and
he doesn't know the very first thing about it. For twenty-five years he
has been chewing on other men's thoughts about realism, naturalism,
and all such foolishness; for twenty-five years he has been reading and
writing things that clever men have long known and stupid ones are not
interested in; for twenty-five years he has been making his imaginary
mountains out of molehills. And just think of the man's self-conceit and
presumption all this time! For twenty-five years he has been
masquerading in false clothes and has now retired absolutely unknown
to any living soul; and yet see him! stalking across the earth like a
demi-god!
ASTROFF. I believe you envy him.
VOITSKI. Yes, I do. Look at the success he has had with women! Don
Juan himself was not more favoured. His first wife, who was my sister,
was a beautiful, gentle being, as pure as the blue heaven there above us,
noble, great-hearted, with more admirers than he has pupils, and she
loved him as only beings of angelic purity can love those who are as
pure and beautiful as themselves. His mother-in-law, my mother,
adores him to this day, and he still inspires a sort of worshipful awe in
her. His second wife is, as you see, a brilliant beauty; she married him
in his old age and has surrendered all the glory of her beauty and
freedom to him. Why? What for?
ASTROFF. Is she faithful to him?
VOITSKI. Yes, unfortunately she is.
ASTROFF. Why unfortunately?
VOITSKI. Because such fidelity is false and unnatural, root and branch.
It sounds well, but there is no logic in it. It is thought immoral for a
woman to deceive an old husband whom she hates, but quite moral for
her to strangle her poor youth in her breast and banish every vital d
esire from her heart.
TELEGIN. [In a tearful voice] Vanya, I don't like to hear you talk so.
Listen, Vanya; every one who betrays husband or wife is faithless, and
could also betray his country.
VOITSKI. [Crossly] Turn off the tap, Waffles.
TELEGIN. No, allow me, Vanya. My wife ran away with a lover on the
day after our wedding, because my exterior was unprepossessing. I
have never failed in my duty since then. I love her and am true to her to

this day. I help her all I can and have given my fortune to educate the
daughter of herself and her lover. I have forfeited my happiness, but I
have kept my pride. And she? Her youth has fled, her beauty has faded
according to the laws of nature, and her lover is dead. What has she
kept?
HELENA and SONIA come in; after them comes MME.
VOITSKAYA carrying a book. She sits down and begins to read. Some
one hands her a glass of tea which she drinks without looking up.
SONIA. [Hurriedly, to the nurse] There are some peasants waiting out
there. Go and see what they want. I shall pour the tea. [Pours out some
glasses of tea.]
MARINA goes out. HELENA takes a glass and sits drinking in the
hammock.
ASTROFF. I have come to see your husband. You wrote me that he
had rheumatism and I know not what else, and that he was very ill, but
he appears to be as lively as a cricket.
HELENA. He had a fit of the blues yesterday evening and complained
of pains in his legs, but he seems all right again to-day.
ASTROFF. And I galloped over here twenty miles at break-neck speed!
No matter, though, it is not the first time. Once here, however, I am
going to stay until to-morrow, and at any rate sleep _quantum satis._
SONIA. Oh, splendid! You so seldom spend the night with us. Have
you had dinner yet?
ASTROFF. No.
SONIA. Good. So you will have it with us. We dine at seven now.
[Drinks her tea] This tea is cold!
TELEGIN. Yes, the samovar has grown cold.
HELENA. Don't