PLATONOV. No man is a poet who is ashamed of being young! You are experiencing youth, so be young! Ridiculous, stupid, perhaps, but still human!
VENGEROVICH JR. All right . . . What stupidity! You are one big crackpot, Platonov! You are all crackpots around here . . . You should have lived in the time of Noah . . . And the general’s lady is a crackpot, and Voinitsev is a crackpot . . . By the way, the general’s lady isn’t bad from the physical standpoint . . . What sharp eyes she’s got! What dainty fingers she’s got! . . . Not bad, when you take her to pieces . . . Breast, neck . . .
Pause.
Why not? Am I your inferior or what? At least once in my life! If thoughts have such a powerful attractive effect on my . . . spinal cord, what bliss would inflame me body and soul if she were to appear right now between those trees and beckon me with her diaphanous fingers! . . . Don’t look at me like that . . . I’m being a fool now, a little boy . . . And yet, who dares forbid me at least once in my life to be a fool? On scientific grounds I’d like to be a fool right now, and happy the way you are . . . I’m happy too . . . Whose business is it? Hm . . .
PLATONOV. But . . . (Looks closely at Vengerovich’s watch-chain.)
VENGEROVICH JR. Anyway, personal happiness is selfish!
PLATONOV. Oh yes! Personal happiness is selfish, and personal unhappiness is virtuous! You really are full of crap! What a chain! What wonderful trinkets! How it shines!
VENGEROVICH JR. Taken a fancy to this chain?! (Laughs.) You’re attracted by this pinchbeck, this glitter . . . (Shakes his head.) Just when you’re preaching to me almost in verse, you can get turned on by gold! Take the chain! Throw it away! (Tears off his chain and throws it aside.)
PLATONOV. What a pompous jingle-jangle! The sound alone lets you know it’s heavy!
VENGEROVICH JR. The gold is heavy in more than weight! You’re lucky that you can sit on these filthy steps! Here you don’t suffer the full heaviness of this filthy gold! Oh, for me these are golden shackles, golden fetters!
PLATONOV. Fetters which don’t last forever! Our fathers knew how to drink them away!
VENGEROVICH JR. How many wretches, how many starvelings, how many drunkards there are under the sun! When, at long last, will the millions who sow in abundance and have nothing to eat cease to starve! When, I ask you? Platonov, why don’t you answer me?
PLATONOV. Leave me out of it! Do me a favor! I don’t like bells that go on ringing for no rhyme or reason! Excuse me, but leave me out of it! I want to go to bed!
VENGEROVICH JR. I’m a bell? Hm . . . More likely you’re the bell . . .
PLATONOV. I’m a bell and you’re a bell, only the difference is I ring myself, and you’re rung by other people . . . Good night! (Gets up.)
VENGEROVICH JR. Good night!
Inside the school a clock strikes two.
It’s two o’clock already . . . One should have been asleep all this time, but I’m not asleep . . . Insomnia, champagne, excitement . . . An abnormal life, responsible for the breakdown of one’s organism . . . (Gets up.) I think I’m getting an ache in my chest . . . Good night! I won’t give you my hand and I’m proud of it. You have no right to shake my hand . . .
PLATONOV. How stupid! As if I cared.
VENGEROVICH JR. I hope that our talk and my . . . running off at the mouth were heard by no one but ourselves and will stay that way . . . (Goes far upstage and comes back again.)
PLATONOV. What do you want now?
VENGEROVICH JR. My chain was somewhere around here . . .
PLATONOV. There it is, your chain! (Tosses the chain with his foot.) Didn’t forget it after all! Listen here, do me a favor, donate this chain to someone I know who is in the ranks of those who sow in abundance but have nothing to eat! This chain will feed him and his family for a whole year! . . . May I present it to him?
VENGEROVICH JR. No . . . I’d be happy to give it to you, but, word of honor, I can’t! It’s a gift, a keepsake . . .
PLATONOV. Yes, yes . . . Clear out of here!
VENGEROVICH JR. (picks up the chain). Leave me alone, please! (Goes back upstage, exhausted, sits down on the railroad track, and hides his face in his hands.)
PLATONOV. The vulgarity! To be young and yet not to be a guiding light! What profound depravity! (Sits down.) It’s disgusting when we run into people who give us a glimpse of our own shameless past! I was once a bit like him . . . Ugh!
Horse’s hoofbeats are heard.
SCENE VI
PLATONOV and ANNA PETROVNA (enters in a riding-habit, holding a hunting crop).
PLATONOV. Madam General!
ANNA PETROVNA. How am I to see him? Should I knock? (On seeing Platonov.) You’re here? How a propos! I knew that you weren’t asleep yet . . . Besides, how can one sleep at a time like this? God gave us the winter for sleeping . . . Good evening, you brute of a man! (Holds out her hand.) Well? What’re you waiting for? Your hand!
PLATONOV holds out his hand.
ANNA PETROVNA. You’re not drunk?
PLATONOV. Who the hell knows! I’m either sober, or as drunk as the most confirmed alcoholic . . . And what’s come over you? Chose to take a walk to keep your weight down, most respected somnambula?
ANNA PETROVNA (sits beside him). N-yes-sir . . .
Pause.
Yes, sir, dearest Mikhail Vasilich! (Sings.) “All this gladness, all this torment . . .”66 (Roars with laughter.) What big, wondering eyes! That’s enough, don’t be afraid, dear friend!
PLATONOV. I’m not afraid . . . for myself at any rate . . .
Pause.
You, I see, have made up your mind to do something silly . . .
ANNA PETROVNA. In my old age . . .
PLATONOV. Old women have an excuse . . . They’re senile . . . But what kind of old woman are you? You’re as young as summer in June. Your life is ahead of you.
ANNA PETROVNA. I need life now, and not ahead of me . . . And I am young, Platonov, dreadfully young! I feel . . . My youth is running alongside me like a wind! Diabolically young . . . It’s cold!
Pause.
PLATONOV (leaps up). I don’t want to understand or guess or assume . . . I don’t want any of it! Go away! Call me an ignoramus and leave me! I’m begging you! Hm . . . How come you’re looking at me that way? You should . . . you should give it some thought!
ANNA PETROVNA. I’ve already given it some thought . . .
PLATONOV. You give it some more thought, you proud, intelligent, beautiful woman! Why, what motive has brought you here?! Ah! . . .
ANNA PETROVNA. I wasn’t brought here, I rode over, my dear!
PLATONOV. With such a mind, such beauty, youth . . . you come to me? My eyes, my ears are deceiving me. . She came to conquer, to capture the fortress! I’m no fortress! It wasn’t for conquests that you came here . . . I’m weak, terribly weak! Understand that!
ANNA PETROVNA (gets up and walks over to him). Running yourself down is worse than pride . . . What’s it to be, Michel? Doesn’t this have to end somehow? You agree yourself, that . . .