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SASHA. You’re starting to make uncalled-for remarks . . . I don’t like it . . . Get going!

OSIP. I’ll go right now . . . You should have been in bed long ago . . . I suppose you’re waiting up for your husband?

SASHA. Yes . . .

OSIP. A good wife! Platonov, I figure, musta took ten years searching for such a wife, with candles and detectives . . . Found her somewheres . . . (Bows.) Good-bye, Aleksandra Ivanovna! Good night!

SASHA (yawns). Get going!

OSIP. I’m going . . . (Goes.) I’m going home . . . My home is where the floor is the earth, the ceiling is the sky, and nobody knows where the walls and roof are . . . Anybody cursed by God lives in this home . . . It’s vast, but there’s nowhere to lay your head . . . The only good thing is you don’t have to pay the county propitty taxes on it . . . (Stops.) Good night, Aleksandra Ivanovna! Please pay me a visit! In the forest! Ask for Osip, every bird and lizard knows who I am! Look there at how that little stump is glowing! Like a dead man riz up from his grave . . . And there’s another! My mother told me that under a stump that’s glowing there’s a sinner buried, and the stump glows so that folks’ll pray for him . . . There’ll be a stump glowing over me . . . I’m a sinner too . . . And there’s a third! A heap of sinners in this world! (Exits and whistles for a couple of minutes.)

SCENE II

SASHA (alone).

SASHA (comes out of the school with a candle and a book). How long Misha’s been away . . . (Sits down.) I hope he won’t damage his health . . . These open-air parties always make a person sick . . . Besides, I want to go to bed . . . Where did I leave off? (Reads.) “It is high time, at long last, to proclaim once more those great, eternal ideals of humanity, those immortal principles of freedom which were the guiding stars of our fathers and which we betrayed, to our dismay.” What does that mean? (Thinks.) I don’t understand . . . Why don’t they write so that everyone can understand? What’s next . . . Mmm . . . I’ll skip the preface . . . (Reads.) “Sacher Masoch”60. . . What a funny name! . . . Masoch . . . I suppose he’s not Russian . . . What’s next . . . Misha insists I read it, so I’ve got to read it . . . (Yawns and reads.) “One merry winter’s evening” . . . Well, this can be skipped . . . A description . . . (Turns over the pages and reads.) “It was hard to decide who was playing which instrument . . . Powerful, majestic tones of an organ played by a firm male hand suddenly shifted to a delicate flute as if sounded by magnificent female lips and finally died away . . . “ Shhh . . . Someone’s coming . . . (Pause.) Those are Misha’s footsteps . . . (Blows out the candle.) At last . . . (Gets up and shouts.) Hey! One, two, one, two! Left, right, left, right! Left! left!

Enter PLATONOV.

SCENE III

SASHA and PLATONOV.

PLATONOV (entering). To spite you: right! right! Actually, my dear, neither right nor left! A drunken man knows neither right nor left: he knows forward, backward, sideways, and down . . .

SASHA. Please come here, my little drunkard, sit over here! Let me show you how to step sideways and down! Sit down! (Throws her arms round Platonov’s neck.)

PLATONOV. Let’s sit . . . (Sits.) Why aren’t you asleep, you infusoria?61

SASHA. I don’t feel like it . . . (Sits beside him.) They kept you late!

PLATONOV. Yes, late . . . . Has the passenger train gone by yet?

SASHA. Not yet. The freight train went by about an hour ago.

PLATONOV. Which means, it isn’t two o’clock yet. Have you been back a long time?

SASHA. I’ve been home since ten . . . When I got back, Kolka was screaming to beat the band . . . I left without saying good-bye, I hope they forgive me . . . Was there dancing after I left?

PLATONOV. There was dancing, and there was a supper, and there were scandalous scenes . . . Among other things . . . did you know? Did it happen while you were there? Old man Glagolyev had a stroke!

SASHA. What are you saying?!

PLATONOV. Yes . . . Your brother let his blood and intoned a requiem mass . . .

SASHA. How did it happen? What came over him? He seemed healthy by the look of him . . .

PLATONOV. A mild stroke . . . Mild luckily for him and unluckily for his little jackass, whom he stupidly dignifies by the name of son . . . They drove him home . . . Can’t have a party without a scandal! Such is our fate, I suppose!

SASHA. I can imagine how frightened Anna Petrovna and Sofya Yegorovna must have been! How gorgeous that Sofya Yegorovna is! I rarely see such pretty women . . . There’s something special about her . . .

Pause.

PLATONOV. Ugh! Stupid, despicable . . .

SASHA. What?

PLATONOV. What have I done?! (Covers his face with his hands.) Shameful!

SASHA. What did you do?

PLATONOV. What did I do? Nothing nice! When have I ever done anything I wasn’t ashamed of afterwards?

SASHA (aside). He’s drunk, poor dear! (to him.) Let’s go to bed!

PLATONOV. I was more despicable than ever! Where’s your self-respect after that! What’s worse than to be devoid of self respect! My God! There’s nothing about me anyone could count on, nothing anyone could respect and love!

Pause.

Although you love me . . . I don’t understand! Evidently you’ve found something in me that can be loved? You love me?

SASHA. What a question! How could I not love you?

PLATONOV. I know, but tell me specifically the good thing that you love me for! Point out the good thing that you love about me!

SASHA. Hm . . . What do I love you for? How cranky you are today, Misha! How can I help but love you, since you’re my husband?

PLATONOV. You love me only because I’m your husband?

SASHA. I don’t understand you.

PLATONOV. You don’t understand? (Laughs.) Oh, you, my perfect little fool! Why aren’t you a fly? With your brains you could be the smartest fly in the world of flies! (Kisses her on the forehead.) What would happen to you if you did understand me, if you lost your lovely ignorance! Would you be so happy a woman, if you and your pristine little mind could realize that there is nothing lovable about me? Don’t understand, my treasure, don’t get informed, if you want to love me! (Kisses her hand.) My ownliest one! And I am happy basking in the warmth of your ignorance! I have a family, like other people . . . I have a family . . .

SASHA (laughs). Crackpot!

PLATONOV. You’re my treasure! My dear little, stupid little country girl! Shouldn’t have you as a wife, but keep you on the table under glass! And how did you and I manage to bring Nikolka into God’s green world? You shouldn’t be giving birth to Nikolkas, but shaping toy soldiers out of cookie-dough, my better half!