HELENA. Hush, some one will overhear you.
[They go toward the house.]
VOYNITSKY. [Following her] Let me speak to you of my love, don't drive me away, and this alone will be my greatest happiness!
HELENA. Ah! This is agony! [Both go into the house.]
TELEGIN strikes the strings of his guitar and plays a polka. MME. VOYNITSKAYA writes something on the margins of her pamphlet.
The curtain falls.
ACT II
The dining-room of SEREBRYAKOV'S house. It is night. The tapping of the WATCHMAN'S rattle is heard in the garden. SEREBRYAKOV is dozing in an arm-chair by an open window and HELENA is sitting beside him, also half asleep.
SEREBRYAKOV. [Rousing himself] Who is here? Is it you, Sonya?
HELENA. It's me.
SEREBRYAKOV. Oh, it is you, Nelly. This pain is intolerable.
HELENA. Your shawl has slipped down. [She wraps up his legs in the shawl] Let me shut the window, Alexander.
SEREBRYAKOV. No, leave it open; I am suffocating. I dreamt just now that my left leg belonged to some one else, and it hurt so that I woke. I don't believe this is gout, it is more like rheumatism. What time is it?
HELENA. Half past twelve. [A pause.]
SEREBRYAKOV. I want you to look for Batyushkov's works in the library tomorrow. I think we have him.
HELENA. What?
SEREBRYAKOV. Look for Batyushkov tomorrow morning; we used to have him, I remember. Why do I find it so hard to breathe?
HELENA. You're tired; this is the second night you've had no sleep.
SEREBRYAKOV. They say that Turgenev got angina of the heart from gout. I am afraid I am getting angina too. Oh, damn this horrible, accursed old age! Ever since I have been old I have been hateful to myself, and I am sure, hateful to you all as well.
HELENA. You speak as if we were to blame for your being old.
SEREBRYAKOV. I am more hateful to you than to any one.
HELENA gets up and walks away from him, sitting down at a distance.
SEREBRYAKOV. You are quite right, of course. I am not an idiot; I can understand you. You are young and healthy and beautiful, and longing for life, and I am an old man, almost a corpse already. Don't I know it? Of course I see that it is foolish for me to live so long, but wait! I shall soon set you all free. My life cannot drag on much longer.
HELENA. You're overtaxing my powers of endurance. Be quiet, for God's sake!
SEREBRYAKOV. It appears that, thanks to me, everybody's power of endurance is being overtaxed; everybody is miserable, only I am blissfully triumphant. Oh, yes, isn't it obvious?
HELENA. Be quiet! You're torturing me.
SEREBRYAKOV. I torture everybody. Obviously.
HELENA. [Weeping] This is unbearable! Tell me, what is it you want from me?
SEREBRYAKOV. Nothing.
HELENA. Then be quiet, please.
SEREBRYAKOV. It is funny that everybody listens to Ivan and his old idiot of a mother, but the moment I open my lips you all begin to feel ill-treated. You can't even stand the sound of my voice. Even if I am hateful, even if I am a selfish tyrant, haven't I the right to be one at my age? Haven't I earned it? Haven't I, I ask you, the right to be respected, now that I am old?
HELENA. No one is disputing your rights. [The window slams in the wind] The wind's rising, I'd better shut the window. [She shuts it] We'll have rain in a moment. Your rights have never been questioned by anybody. [Pause]
The WATCHMAN in the garden sounds his rattle and sings a song.
SEREBRYAKOV. I have spent my life working in the interests of learning. I am used to my library and the lecture hall and to the esteem and admiration of my colleagues. Now I suddenly find myself plunged in this wilderness, condemned to see the same stupid people from morning till night and listen to their futile conversation. I want to live; I long for success and fame and the stir of the world, and here I am in exile! Oh, it is dreadful to spend every moment grieving for the lost past, to see the success of others and sit here with nothing to do but to fear death. I can't stand it! I don't have the strength. And they will not even forgive me for being old!
HELENA. Wait, have patience; I'll be old myself in four or five years.
SONYA comes in.
SONYA. Father, you sent for Dr. Astrov, and now when he comes you refuse to see him. It's inconsiderate to give a man so much trouble for nothing.
SEREBRYAKOV. What do I care about your Astrov? He understands medicine about as well as I understand astronomy.
SONYA. We can't send for the whole medical faculty, can we, to treat your gout?
SEREBRYAKOV. I won't talk to that madman!
SONYA. Do as you please. [She sits down.] It's all the same to me.
SEREBRYAKOV. What time is it?
HELENA. After midnight.
SEREBRYAKOV. It is stifling in here. Sonya, hand me that bottle on the table.
SONYA. Here it is. [She hands him a bottle of medicine.]
SEREBRYAKOV. [Crossly] No, not that one! Can't you understand me? Can't I ask you to do a thing?
SONYA. Will you stop throwing tantrums? Some people may like it, but you can please leave me out of it. I don't like it. Besides, I haven't the time; we're cutting the hay tomorrow and I must get up early.
VOYNITSKY comes in wearing a dressing gown and carrying a candle.
VOYNITSKY. A thunderstorm is coming up. [The lightning flashes] There it is! Go to bed, Helena and Sonya. I've come to take your place.
SEREBRYAKOV. [Frightened] No, no, no! Don't leave me alone with him! Oh, don't. He will talk me to death.
VOYNITSKY. But you must give them a little rest. They have not slept for two nights.
SEREBRYAKOV. Then let them go to bed, but you go away too! Thank you. I implore you to go. For the sake of our former friendship do not protest against going. We will talk some other time ---
VOYNITSKY. [Smiles ironically] Our former friendship! Our former ---
SONYA. Hush, Uncle Vanya!
SEREBRYAKOV. [To his wife] My darling, don't leave me alone with him. He will talk me to death.
VOYNITSKY. This is ridiculous.
MARINA comes in carrying a candle.
SONYA. You must go to bed, Nanny, it's late.
MARINA. I haven't cleared away the tea things. Can't go to bed yet.
SEREBRYAKOV. No one can go to bed. They are all worn out, only I enjoy perfect happiness.
MARINA. [Goes up to SEREBRYAKOV and speaks tenderly] What's the matter, master? Does it hurt? My own legs are aching too, oh, so badly. [Arranges his shawl about his legs] You've had this illness such a long time. Sonya's poor mother used to stay awake with you too, and wear herself out for you. She loved you dearly. [A pause] Old people want to be pitied as much as young ones, but nobody cares about them somehow. [She kisses SEREBRYAKOV'S shoulder] Come, master, let me give you some lime-flower tea and warm your poor feet for you. I shall pray to God for you.
SEREBRYAKOV. [Deeply touched] Let us go, Marina.
MARINA. My own feet are aching so badly, oh, so badly! [She and SONYA lead SEREBRYAKOV out] Sonya's mother used to wear herself out with sorrow and weeping. You were still little and silly then, Sonya. Come, come, master.