The Collected Works of Anton Chekhov. Anton Chekhov
what does that mean, what’s the meaning of it? It’s very simple. To furl, you know, the foretop halliards and the tops’l gallants and hoist the mains’l — all at once! They must level the foretopmains and the tops’l gallant halliards on the hoist; at the same time, there’s the necessity of strengthening the braces of all the sails; and when the stays are taut and the braces raised all round, then the foretop halliards and the tops’l gallants, settling conformably with the direction of the wind——
Newnin: Your excellency, the host begs you to speak of something else. The guests don’t understand all this, and it’s dull.
Revunov-Karayúlov: What? Who’s dull? (To Mozgovy.) Young man, suppose the vessel is lying by the wind, on the starboard course, under full stretch of canvas, and you have to bring her over before the wind? What orders must you give? Why, this: Whistle all hands on deck for a tack across before the wind. Hee, hee!
Newnin: Yes, yes! Take something to eat.
Revunov-Karayúlov: Just as they all come running out, at once you give the command: “Stand to stations for a tack across before the wind!” Ah! That’s life! You give the order and watch how the sailors, like lightning, run to their places and adjust the lashings and the halliards. You finish by shouting out, “Bravo, my fine fellows.” (Shouts and chokes.)
Master of Ceremonies (hastens to take advantage of the probable pause): On this day, to-day, so to speak, on which we are collected together here to do honour to our beloved——
Revunov-Karayúlov (breaking in): Yes! Yes! And all this has to be remembered. For instance, halliard-royals, tops’l gallants——
Master of Ceremonies (offended): What’s he interrupting for? We can’t say a single word.
Nastasia: We ignorant people, your excellency, do not understand anything of this. But tell us instead something to please——
Revunov-Karayúlov (misunderstanding): I’ve just eaten some, thank you. You said “cheese,” did you not? Thank you. Yes! I was recalling old times. But certainly it’s fine, young man. “If you sail on the sea, you’ll know no care.” (With a trembling voice.) You recollect the delight of tacking in a gale? What seaman does not light up at the recollection of this manœuvre? The very moment the command resounds, “Pipe all hands aloft,” an electric spark seems to fly over everybody. From the commander to the lowest sailor — all tremble with excitement——
Zmewkin: O, how dull! How dull! (General murmur.)
Revunov-Karayúlov (misunderstanding): Thank you, I have had some. (With rapture.) Everyone gets ready and turns his eyes on the first officer. “Stand to the gallants and starboard tops’l braces, and the port main braces, and port counter-braces,” orders the first officer. All is accomplished in a moment; halliard royals and tops’l lashings heaved. All right on board! (Stands up.) Off flies the vessel in the wind and at last the sails begin to get wet. The first officer cries, “The braces, don’t dawdle at the braces,” and fixes his eyes on the maintop, and when at last the tops’l gets wet, at that moment the vessel begins to tack, and you hear the loud command, “Loose the maintop halliards, let go the braces,” then everything flies off with a crack — like the Tower of Babel — and all is accomplished without a fault. You’ve tacked!
Nastasia (bursting out): But, General, you’re being unpleasant! You ought to know better, at your age! You’re unpleasant!
Revunov-Karayúlov: Pheasant? No, I haven’t had any. Thank you.
Nastasia (loudly): I said, you’re being unpleasant! You ought to know better, at your age, General.
Newnin (agitated): Now, come — there, there. Really——
Revunov-Karayúlov: For the first thing, I’m not a general, but a second-grade captain, which corresponds on the list to a lieutenant-colonel——
Nastasia: Then, if you’re not a general, why did you take the money? And we didn’t pay you money for you to be unpleasant.
Revunov-Karayúlov (perplexed): What money?
Nastasia: You know what money! You received through Mr. Newnin twen—— (To Newnin.) But it’s your fault, Andrew. I didn’t ask you to hire such a man.
Newnin: Now, there — let it be! Is it worth while?
Revunov-Karayúlov: Hired — paid — what’s this?
Aplombov: But excuse me. You received the twenty-five roubles from Mr. Newnin?
Revunov-Karayúlov: What twenty-five roubles? (Ponders.) Ah! I see! Now I understand everything. How disgustin! How disgusting!
Aplombov: Then you did receive the money?
Revunov-Karayúlov: I received no money at all! Off with you! (Leaves the table.) How disgusting! How low! To affront an old man, a sailor, an officer of merit! If this were decent society, I’d challenge you to a duel, but now what can I do? (Muddled.) Where’s the door? Which is the way out? Waiter! Show me out! Waiter! How low! How disgusting! (Exit.)
Nastasia: Andrew, where are those twenty-five roubles?
Newnin: Come, is it worth while to speak of such trifles? Everybody else is gay, but you, Heaven knows why — (Shouts.) To the health of the young people! Musicians, play a march! Musicians! (Band begins to play a march.) To the health of the young people!
Zmewkin: I feel stifled! Give me atmosphere! Beside you I feel stifled!
Yat (in an ecstasy): Wonderful woman! Wonderful woman! (The noise gets louder.)
Master of Ceremonies (stands and shouts): Dear ladies and gentlemen! On this day, to-day, so to speak——
(Curtain)
THE BEAR [trans. by Julius West]
CHARACTERS
ELENA IVANOVNA POPOVA, a landowning little widow, with dimples on her cheeks
GRIGORY STEPANOVITCH SMIRNOV, a middle-aged landowner
LUKA, Popova’s aged footman
THE BEAR
[A drawing-room in POPOVA’S house.]
[POPOVA is in deep mourning and has her eyes fixed on a photograph. LUKA is haranguing her.]
LUKA. It isn’t right, madam…. You’re just destroying yourself. The maid and the cook have gone off fruit picking, every living being is rejoicing, even the cat understands how to enjoy herself and walks about in the yard, catching midges; only you sit in this room all day, as if this was a convent, and don’t take any pleasure. Yes, really! I reckon it’s a whole year that you haven’t left the house!
POPOVA. I shall never go out…. Why should I? My life is already at an end. He is in his grave, and I have buried myself between four walls…. We are both dead.
LUKA. Well, there you are! Nicolai Mihailovitch is dead, well, it’s the will of God, and may his soul rest in peace…. You’ve mourned him — and quite right. But you can’t go on weeping and wearing mourning for ever. My old woman died too, when her time came. Well? I grieved over her, I wept for a month, and that’s enough for her, but if I’ve got to weep for a whole age, well, the old woman isn’t worth it. [Sighs] You’ve forgotten all your neighbours. You don’t go anywhere, and you see nobody. We live, so to speak, like spiders, and never see the light. The mice have eaten my livery. It isn’t as if there were no good people around, for the district’s full of them. There’s a regiment