Without a dowry / Бесприданница. Книга для чтения на английском языке

Knurov. That’s the whole truth. A jeweler and not just an ordinary workman; he has to be an artist. If she’s surrounded by poverty and married to a fool besides, she’ll either perish or become common.

Vozhevatov. But I think she’ll throw him over pretty soon. She’s like a dead woman now, but when she recovers and takes a closer look at her husband, sees what he’s like… (Quietly.) There they are now, speak of the devil.

Karandyshov, Madame Ogudalov, and Larisa enter. Vozhevatov stands up and bows. Knurov takes out a newspaper. Larisa sits down on a bench by the railing and looks through binoculars at the Volga.

Mme Ogudalov (walking over to the table). Greetings, gentlemen!

Karandyshov follows her over. Vozhevatov gives his hand to both of them. Knurov silently and not rising from his place gives his hand to Mme Ogudalov, nods slightly to Karandyshov, and buries himself in his newspaper.

Vozhevatov. Kharita Ignatyenva, please sit down. (He moves a chair forward.)

Mme Ogudalov sits down.

Wouldn’t you like some tea?

Karandyshov sits down some distance away.

Mme Ogudalov. All right, I’ll take a cup.

Vozhevatov. Ivan, bring a cup and add some boiling water.

Ivan takes the teapot and goes off.

Karandyshov. What a crazy idea to drink tea at this time of day? It amazes me.

Vozhevatov. It’s a question of thirst, Yuly Kapitonych, but just what I should drink I don’t know. Give me your advice, I’d appreciate it.

Karandyshov (looks at his watch). At the present moment it’s noon, so you could have a small glass of vodka, a chop, and then a small glass of good wine. That’s how I always lunch.

Vozhevatov (to Mme Ogudalov). Now that’s what I call living, Kharita Ignatyenva, it makes a man jealous. (To Karandyshov.) If I could only live one little day in your shoes. A bit of vodka, a bit of wine! But we can’t do that, sir, we might lose our powers of reasoning. You can do what you want, you’re not running through your capital because you don’t have any, but we poor devils were born into the world with a lot of big deals to attend to, so we’re not allowed to lose our reason.

Ivan brings the teapot and a cup.

Kharita Ignatyenva, please! (He pours out a cup and hands it to her.) I drink my tea cold so people won’t say I use hot drinks.

Mme Ogudalov. The tea’s cold all right. Only, Vasya, you poured mine too strong.

Vozhevatov. That doesn’t matter, ma’am. Drink it, for my sake! It won’t do you any harm in the open air.

Karandyshov (to Ivan). Come to my house tonight to serve dinner.

Ivan. Yes, sir, Yuly Kapitonych.

Karandyshov. And listen, my friend, dress up for it.

Ivan. Of course, a frock coat. As if we didn’t understand that, sir.

Karandyshov. Vasily Danilych, tell you what! You come and have dinner with me tonight!

Vozhevatov. Thank you so much. And are you going to order me to come in a frock coat too?

Karandyshov. As you wish, don’t stand on ceremony. Still, there’ll be ladies.

Vozhevatov (bowing). Yes, sir. I hope I won’t disgrace myself.

Karandyshov (walks over to Knurov). Moky Parmenych, wouldn’t you like to come and have dinner with me tonight?

Knurov (looks at him in astonishment). With you?

Mme Ogudalov. Moky Parmenych, it’s the same as with us; this is a dinner for Larisa.

Knurov. I see, so it’s you who’s inviting me? Fine, I’ll come.

Karandyshov. I’ll look forward to seeing you, then.

Knurov. I already said I’d come. (He reads his newspaper.)

Mme Ogudalov. Yuly Kapitonych is my future son-inlaw; I’m letting him marry Larisa.

Knurov (continuing to read). That’s your affair.

Karandyshov. Yes, sir, Moky Parmenych, I took the risk. In general I’ve always been above prejudices.

Knurov hides behind the newspaper.

Vozhevatov (to Mme Ogudalov). Moky Parmenych is stern.

Karandyshov (moving from Knurov to Vozhevatov). I wish that Larisa Dmitriyevna be surrounded only by choice people.

Vozhevatov. Which means I’m one of the elect? Thank you, that’s something I wasn’t expecting. (To Gavrilo.) Gavrilo, how much do I owe you for the tea?

Gavrilo. You had two orders?

Vozhevatov. Yes, two orders.

Gavrilo. Then you should know yourself, Vasily Danilych, it’s not the first time… Thirteen rubles, sir.

Vozhevatov. I just thought it might have gotten cheaper.

Gavrilo. How could it have gotten cheaper! With the rate of exchange and the customs tax, really!

Vozhevatov. But I’m not arguing with you, why talk about it! Take your money and forget it! (He gives him the money.)

Karandyshov. But why is it so expensive? I don’t understand.

Gavrilo. It’s expensive for some but not for others. You don’t drink that kind of tea.

Mme Ogudalov (to Karandyshov). Stop it, don’t meddle in other people’s affairs.

Ivan. Vasily Danilych, the Swallow is coming in.

Vozhevatov. Moky Parmenych, the Swallow is coming in, wouldn’t you like to take a look? We won’t go down, we can look from the hill.

Knurov. Let’s go. I’m curious. (He gets up.)

Mme Ogudalov. Vasya, I’m going home in your carriage.

Vozhevatov. Take it, only send it back soon. (He goes over to Larisa and speaks quietly with her.)

Mme Ogudalov (goes over to Knurov). Moky Parmenych, we’ve embarked on a wedding, you just can’t believe how many troubles there are.

Knurov. Yes.

Mme Ogudalov. And suddenly there are unexpected expenses… And tomorrow’s Larisa’s birthday, I’d like to give her a present.

Knurov. Good, I’ll drop in on you.

Mme Ogudalov goes off.

Larisa (to Vozhevatov). Good-bye, Vasya!

Vozhevatov and Knurov leave. Larisa approaches Karandyshov.

Larisa. Just now I was looking across the Volga. How nice it is on the other side! Let’s go to the country as soon as we can!

Karandyshov. You were looking across the Volga? And what was Vozhevatov talking with you about?

Larisa. Nothing really, just little things. I want so much to go to the other side of the Volga, into the woods… (Thoughtfully.) Let’s go, let’s leave here!

Karandyshov. But it’s so strange! What could he have to talk with you about?

Larisa. Well, whatever he talked about, what business is it of yours?

Karandyshov. You call him Vasya. Why so familiar with a young man?

Larisa. We’ve known each other since childhood. When we were little we played together. So I’ve gotten used to calling him that.

Karandyshov. You’ll have to throw off your old habits. There’s no reason to be friends with a shallow and stupid boy. It’s not possible to tolerate the sort of life you’ve had so far.

Larisa (offended). There hasn’t been anything bad in our life.

Karandyshov. It’s been a gypsy camp, miss, that’s what it’s been. (Larisa wipes away some tears.) But why are you so offended!

Larisa. So maybe it has been a gypsy camp, but at least it’s been fun. Will you be able to give me something better than this camp?

Karandyshov. Of course.

Larisa. Why do you keep on reproaching me with it? Do you really think I’ve liked our kind of life? Mama told me how she wanted things, and so, whether I wanted to or not, I had to lead that kind of life. Throwing this gypsy life at me all the time is either stupid or heartless. If I weren’t looking for quiet and solitude, I wouldn’t be wanting to run away from people, and would I really be marrying you? So try to understand that and don’t go assigning my choice to your virtues, I don’t see them yet. I still only want to fall in love with you; I’m drawn to the quiet family life, it looks like some kind of heaven. You can see I’m standing at the crossroads, so give me support, I need encouragement and sympathy. Deal with me tenderly, with affection. Seize these moments, don’t let them pass.

Karandyshov. Larisa Dmitriyevna, I didn’t mean to offend you at all, somehow the words just came to my tongue…

Larisa. What is that “somehow”? You mean you weren’t thinking, that you didn’t understand your words might be offensive?

Karandyshov. Exactly, I did it without any intent.

Larisa. That makes it even worse. You should think about what you say. Chatter away with others if you like, but with me speak more carefully. Can’t you see my position is very serious! I feel every word I say and hear. I’ve become very sensitive and impressionable.

Karandyshov. In that case please forgive me.

Larisa. All right, only in the future be more careful. (Thoughtfully.) Gypsy camp… Yes, that’s true… but in that camp have been some good and noble people.

Karandyshov. What noble people? You don’t perhaps mean Sergey Sergeyich Paratov?

Larisa. No, please, don’t speak of him.

Karandyshov. And why not?

Larisa. You don’t know him, and even if you did know him, well… forgive me, but it’s not for you to pass judgment on him.

Karandyshov. People are judged by their actions. Do you think he acted well with you?

Larisa. That’s my affair. If I’m afraid to, if I don’t dare to pass judgment on him, then I’m not going to let you do it.

Karandyshov. Larisa Dmitriyevna, tell me something. Only please, speak frankly.

Larisa. What is it?

Karandyshov. How am I any worse than Paratov?

Larisa. Oh no, don’t ask that!

Karandyshov. But why not?

Larisa. Better not, better not! How can there be any comparison!

Karandyshov. That’s what I’d like to hear from you.

Larisa. Don’t ask, there’s no need!

Karandyshov. But why not?

Larisa. Because the comparison will not be to your advantage. By yourself you have value, you’re a good and honest man. But in comparison with Sergey Sergeyich you lose everything.

Karandyshov. But those are just words, we need proof. Give him and me a real analysis.

Larisa. Do you know the man you’re comparing yourself with! How can you be so blind! Sergey Sergeyich… is the ideal man. Do you understand what ideal is? Maybe I’m wrong, I’m still young and don’t know people, but it will be impossible to change this opinion in me, it will die with me.

Karandyshov. I just can’t understand what’s so special about him, I don’t see anything. There’s a certain boldness, an impudence. But anybody can have that if he wants.

Larisa. And do you know what boldness is?

Karandyshov. Whatever it is, what’s so wonderful about it? All it takes is putting on airs.

Larisa. To show what it is I’ll tell you something that happened. There was an officer from the Caucasus passing through here, an acquaintance of Sergey Sergeyich, and he was a wonderful shot. They were both at our place, and Sergey Sergeyich says to him, “I hear you’re a wonderful shot.” “Yes, not bad,” says the officer. Sergey Sergeyich gives him a pistol, puts a glass on his own head, and he goes off to another room, about twelve steps away. “Shoot,” he says.

Karandyshov. And he shot?

Larisa. He shot, and, of course, he knocked off the glass, only he turned a little pale. Sergey Sergeyich says, “You shoot beautifully, but you turned pale, and you were shooting at a man, and a man not close to you. Look, I’m going to shoot at a young woman who’s dearer to me than anything in the world, and I won’t turn pale.” He gives me a coin to hold, and, with indifference and a smile, he shoots from the same distance and hits it.

Karandyshov. And you obeyed him?

Larisa. How could I do anything else?

Karandyshov. You really had so much confidence in him?

Larisa. How can you ask! How could I not have confidence in him?

Karandyshov. He has no heart, that’s why he’s so bold.

Larisa. No, he has a heart too. I saw myself how he helped the poor, how he gave away all the money he had on him.

Karandyshov. So, let’s grant that Paratov has some virtues, at least in your eyes, but what about this petty merchant, this Vasya of yours?

Larisa. You’re not being jealous, are you? No, you stop all this nonsense. It’s degrading, and I won’t tolerate it, I’m telling you in advance. Don’t worry, I’m not in love with anybody, and I won’t fall in love with anybody.

Karandyshov. But what if Paratov should show up?

Larisa. Of course, if Paratov should show up and were free, then it would take only one look from him… But you can set your mind at ease, he hasn’t showed up, and even if he should show up now, it’s already too late. We’ll probably never see each other again.

A cannon shot on the Volga.

What’s that?

Karandyshov. Some high and mighty merchant is coming in, so they’re firing a salute in his honor.

Larisa. Oh, how it frightened me!

Karandyshov. Why, why should it?

Larisa. My nerves are upset. Just now I was looking down from this bench, and I began to get dizzy. Could one hurt oneself here very much?

Karandyshov. Hurt oneself! Here it’s sure death, it’s paved with stone below. And it’s so high here you’d die before you hit the bottom.

Larisa. Let’s go home, it’s time.

Karandyshov. I have to go too, I have that dinner, you know.

Larisa (going to the railing). Wait awhile. (She looks below.) Oh, oh, hold on to me!

Karandyshov (takes Larisa by the arm). Come on, you’re just being childish!

They leave. Gavrilo and Ivan enter from the coffee house.

Ivan. The cannon! The gentleman’s come, the gentleman’s come, Sergey Sergeyich.

Gavrilo. I told you it was him. I know-you can tell a falcon by its flight.

Ivan. The carriage is coming uphill empty. That means the gentlemen are coming on foot. There they are! (He runs off into the coffee house.)

Gavrilo. Welcome to them. I wish I could figure out what to treat them with.

Paratov enters. He is wearing a single-breasted, close-fitting, black frock coat, varnished high boots, a white service cap; across his shoulder is a traveling bag. With him are Robinson (wearing a cloak, the right flap of which is thrown over his left shoulder, and a tall soft hat perched on one side of his head), Knurov, and Vozhevatov. Ivan runs out of the coffee house with a hand broom to brush off Paratov.

Paratov (to Ivan). What are you doing! I’ve just come from the water, there’s no dust on the Volga.

Ivan. All the same, sir, it’s impossible not to… custom requires it. It’s been a whole year since we saw you… we want to welcome you, sir.

Paratov. All right, fine, thank you. Here. (Hegives him a ruble note.)

Ivan. Thank you very much, sir. (He goes off.)

Paratov. So, Vasily Danilych, you were expecting me to come on the Flier?

Vozhevatov. I didn’t know you’d be coming on your Swallow. I thought you’d be coming with the barges.

Paratov. No, I sold my barges. I thought I’d get here early this morning. I wanted to pass the Flier, but the engineer’s a coward. I keep shouting to the stokers, “Stoke away!”-but he takes the wood from them. He climbs out of the hold and says, “If you throw down just one more log, I’ll throw myself overboard.” He was afraid the boiler wouldn’t stand it. He scratched out some figures for me on paper, calculated the pressure. He’s a foreigner, a Dutchman, a timid soul; they have arithmetic instead of a soul. But gentlemen, I forgot to introduce you to my friend. Moky Parmenych, Vasily Danilych, I present you-Robinson.

Robinson bows solemnly and shakes hands with Knurov and Vozhevatov.

Vozhevatov. And what’s his first name and patronymic?

Paratov. He’s just Robinson, that’s all, no first name or patronymic.

Robinson (to Paratov). Serge!

Paratov. What is it?

Robinson. It’s noon, my friend, I’m suffering.

Paratov. You just wait, we’ll be going to an inn.

Robinson (pointing to the coffee house). Voilà!

Paratov. All right, go ahead, have it your own way!

Robinson goes to the coffee house.

Gavrilo, don’t serve that gentleman more than one small glass; he has a restless disposition.

Robinson (shrugging his shoulders). Serge! (He enters the coffee house, Gavrilo after him.)

Paratov. That, gentlemen, is an actor from the provinces, Arkady Shchastlivtsev by name.

Vozhevatov. Then why is he called Robinson?

Paratov. I’ll tell you. He was traveling on some steamboat or other, I don’t know which one, with a friend of his, a merchant’s son named Neputôvy, both drunk, of course, drunk as could be. They did whatever came into their head, and the passengers put up with it all. At last, to top off all their insane antics, they thought up a dramatic performance. They took off their clothes, cut open a pillow, covered themselves with down and began to play savages. At that point the captain, on the insistence of the passengers, put them ashore on a desert island. We go sailing by that island, I look, and somebody calls out, lifting his arms. Immediately I shout, “Stop,” get into a boat myself, and I find the actor Shchastlivtsev. I take him onto our boat and dress him from head to foot in my own clothes since I have extra. Gentlemen, I have a weakness for actors… That’s why he’s Robinson.

Vozhevatov. And Neputovy stayed on the island?

Paratov. But what good was he to me? Let him get the fresh air. You can judge for yourselves, gentlemen. You know, when you’re traveling it can get awfully boring, you’re glad for any companion.

Knurov. Quite right, of course.

Vozhevatov. That was lucky, a real stroke of luck! Like finding gold!

Knurov. Just one drawback, he’s given to drunkenness.

Paratov. No, gentlemen, he can’t get drunk with me, I’m strict about that. He has no money, and he can’t get anything without my permission. And if he asks me for something, then I make him learn some French conversations from a phrase book I was lucky enough to have. He learns a page first or I won’t give him anything. So he sits down and studies, how hard he tries!

Vozhevatov. How lucky you are, Sergey Sergeyich! I wouldn’t spare anything to have a man like that, but there aren’t any around. Is he a good actor?

Paratov. Well no, hardly! He went through all the roles and was a prompter, but now he plays in operettas. It doesn’t matter, he’ll pass well enough, he’s amusing.

Vozhevatov. You mean he’s fun?

Paratov. He’s entertaining.

Vozhevatov. And can you play jokes on him?

Paratov. Sure, he’s not touchy. Look, to satisfy you I can let you have him for two or three days.

Vozhevatov. Thank you very much. If I like him, he won’t lose by it.

Knurov. How is it, Sergey Sergeyich, that you don’t feel sorry about selling the Swallow?

Paratov. I don’t know what it means to “feel sorry”: for me, Moky Parmenych, nothing is sacred. If it’s to my advantage, I’ll sell anything, no matter what. But now, gentlemen, I have other business and other considerations. I’m going to marry a very rich young woman, I’ll be getting gold mines for a dowry.

Vozhevatov. A good dowry.

Paratov. It won’t come cheap. I have to say good-bye to my freedom and my life of fun. That’s why we should try hard to have a high old time these last days.

Vozhevatov. We’ll try hard, Sergey Sergeyich, we’ll try hard.

Paratov. My fiancée’s father is an important official. He’s a strict old man, and he can’t stand hearing about gypsies, carousals, and the like. He doesn’t even like it if somebody smokes a lot. What you’re supposed to do is put on your frockcoat and parlez français! That’s why I’m practicing now with Robinson. Only he, maybe for show, I don’t know, calls me “la Serge,” not simply “Serge.” He’s terribly funny!

Robinson appears on the steps of the coffee house, chewing something. Gavrilo is behind him.

Paratov (to Robinson). Que faites-vous là? Venez!

Robinson (with a distinguished air). Comment?

Paratov. What charm! What a tone, gentlemen! (To Robinson.) You give up that filthy habit of abandoning respectable society for the tavern.

Vozhevatov. Yes, they have a way of doing that.

Robinson. La Serge, you’ve managed to… There was no need to do that.

Paratov. Yes, forgive me, I gave away your pseudonym.

Vozhevatov. We won’t give you away, Robinson, you’ll pass among us as an Englishman, old man.

Robinson. Why this sudden familiarity? You and I haven’t drunk any fraternal pledge.

Vozhevatov. It doesn’t matter… Why stand on ceremony!

Robinson. But I don’t tolerate familiarity, and I won’t permit just anybody.

Vozhevatov. But I’m not just anybody.

Robinson. Then who are you?

Vozhevatov. A merchant.

Robinson. A rich one?

Vozhevatov. A rich one.

Robinson. And generous?

Vozhevatov. And generous.

Robinson. Now that’s something to my taste. (He extends his hand to Vozhevatov.) Very pleased to meet you. Now I can permit you to deal with me without formalities.

Vozhevatov. That means we’re friends, two bodies, one soul.

Robinson. And one pocket. What’s your first name and patronymic? I mean, your first name, the patronymic’s not necessary.

Vozhevatov. Vasily Danilych.

Robinson. Tell you what, Vasya, in honor of our first acquaintance you pay for me.

Vozhevatov. Gavrilo, write it down to my account. Sergey Sergeyich, we’re getting up a picnic for tonight on the other side of the Volga. In one boat there’ll be gypsies, and we’ll be in the other. When we get there we’ll sit down on a rug and heat up some hot punch.