TRILETSKY. Whistles like a farmhand! Wonderful woman!
Pause.
She won’t come here for a visit.
ANNA PETROVNA. Why not?
TRILETSKY. Because Platonov hangs around here . . . She can’t stand him after those stunts he’s pulled. The man’s convinced that she’s a fool, imbedded the idea in his shaggy head, and now there’s no way in hell to shake it loose! For some reason he thinks it’s his responsibility to give fools a hard time, play all sorts of tricks on them . . . Your move! . . . But what kind of a fool is she? As if he understands people!
ANNA PETROVNA. Hogwash. We won’t let him do anything out of line. Tell her that she’s got nothing to be afraid of. But what’s taking Platonov so long? He should have been here long ago . . . (Looks at the clock.) It’s bad manners on his part. We haven’t seen one another for six months.
TRILETSKY. When I drove over here, the shutters on the school-house were closed tight. I suppose he’s still asleep. What a scoundrel the fellow is! I haven’t seen him for a long time either.
ANNA PETROVNA. Is he well?
TRILETSKY. He’s always well. Alive and kicking!
Enter GLAGOLYEV SR. and VOINITSEV.
SCENE II
The same, GLAGOLYEV SR. and VOINITSEV.
GLAGOLYEV SR. (entering). That’s the way it used to be, my dear Sergey Pavlovich. In that respect we, the setting suns, are better off and happier than you, the rising suns. Man, as you see, wasn’t the loser, and woman was the winner.
They sit down.
Let’s sit down, besides I’m worn out . . . We loved women like the most chivalrous of knights, put our faith in them, worshiped them, because we regarded them as the paragon of humanity . . . For a woman is the paragon of humanity, Sergey Pavlovich!
ANNA PETROVNA. Why are you cheating?
TRILETSKY. Who’s cheating?
ANNA PETROVNA. And who put that pawn here?
TRILETSKY. Why, you put it there yourself!
ANNA PETROVNA. Oh, right . . . Pardon . . .
TRILETSKY. You’re darn right pardon.
GLAGOLYEV SR. We had friends as well . . . In our day friendship wasn’t so simple-minded and so superficial. In our day there were clubs, liberal literary circles6. . . For our friends, among other things, we were expected to go through fire.
VOINITSEV (yawns). Those were the days!
TRILETSKY. And in these horrid days of ours it’s the firemen who go through fire for their friends.
ANNA PETROVNA. Don’t be silly, Nikolya!
Pause.
GLAGOLYEV SR. Last winter at the Moscow opera I saw a young man burst into tears under the influence of good music . . . Isn’t that a fine thing?
VOINITSEV. I’d say it’s a very fine thing.
GLAGOLYEV SR. That’s what I think. But why, do tell me, please, when they noticed it, did the little ladies sitting nearby and their male companions smirk at him? What were they smirking at? And when he realized that these good people were watching him weep, he started to slouch in his seat, blush, planted a crooked grin on his face and then left the theater . . . In our day we weren’t ashamed of honest tears and we didn’t make fun of them . . .
TRILETSKY (to Anna Petrovna). I wish this sack of saccharine would die of melancholy! I can’t stand it! He gives me an earache!
ANNA PETROVNA. Sssh . . .
GLAGOLYEV SR. We were much happier than you are. In our day people who appreciated music did not leave the theater, but sat through the opera to the end . . . You’re yawning, Sergey Pavlovich . . . I’ve been imposing on you . . .
VOINITSEV. No . . . But come to the point, Porfiry Semyonych! It’s high time . . .
GLAGOLYEV SR. Well, sir . . . And so on and so forth . . . Now the point I’m trying to make to you is that in our day there were people who could love and hate, and consequently, feel indignation and contempt . . .
VOINITSEV. Fine, and in our day there aren’t any, is that it?
GLAGOLYEV SR. I don’t think there are.
VOINITSEV gets up and goes to the window.
The deficit of such people is responsible for our present state of decline . . .
Pause.
VOINITSEV. Not proven, Porfiry Semyonych!
ANNA PETROVNA. I can’t stand it! He reeks so badly of that unbearable cheap cologne7 that I’m starting to feel faint. (Coughs.) Move back a bit!
TRILETSKY (moves back). She’s losing and it’s all the fault of my poor cologne. Wonderful woman!
VOINITSEV. It’s wrong, Porfiry Semyonych, to cast aspersions on a person based only on conjecture and a partiality for the youth of days gone by!
GLAGOLYEV SR. It may be I’m mistaken.
VOINITSEV. May be . . . In this case there’s no room for “may be” . . . Your accusation is no laughing matter!
GLAGOLYEV SR. (laughs). But . . . you’re starting to get angry, my dear man . . . Hm . . . All this proves is that there’s no chivalry in you, you don’t know how to treat the views of an adversary with the proper respect.
VOINITSEV. The only thing it proves is that I do know how to get indignant.
GLAGOLYEV SR. Of course, I don’t mean everyone . . . There are exceptions, Sergey Pavlovich!
VOINITSEV. Of course . . . (Bows.) I thank you most humbly for the little concession! The whole charm of your approach lies in such concessions. But what if you ran into some simple-minded person, who didn’t know you, and who actually believed you knew what you were talking about? You’d end up convincing him that we, I mean, myself, Nikolay Ivanych, my maman and more or less every young person is incapable of feeling indignation and contempt . . .
GLAGOLYEV SR. But . . . you just . . . I didn’t say . . .
ANNA PETROVNA. I want to listen to Porfiry Semyonych. Let’s call this off! Enough.
TRILETSKY. No, no . . . Play and listen at the same time!
ANNA PETROVNA. Enough. (Gets up.) I’m fed up with it. We’ll finish the game later.
TRILETSKY. When I’m losing, she sits glued to her spot, but as soon as I start to win, it turns out she longs to listen to Porfiry Semyonych! (To Glagolyev.) And who’s asking you to talk? You’re only in the way! (To Anna Petrovna.) Please sit back down and carry on, otherwise I’ll assume that you lost!
ANNA PETROVNA. Go ahead! (Sits facing Glagolyev.)
SCENE III
The same and VENGEROVICH SR.
VENGEROVICH SR. (enters). It’s hot! This heat reminds a Yid like me of Palestine. (Sits at the piano and runs his fingers over the keys.) I’m told it’s very hot there!
TRILETSKY (gets up). We’ll make a note of it. (Takes a notebook out of his pocket.) We’ll make a note of it, my good woman! (Makes a note.) The general’s lady . . . the general’s lady three rubles . . . With what’s owing—ten rubles! Uh-oh! When shall I have the honor of receiving that sum?