Ivanov

SashaI can’t understand why you have to insult my feelings with this penny-pinching arithmetic.

Lebedev(exploding with rage) I give up! I’ll end up sticking a knife in my guts – or someone’s. If it’s not her out there raging non-stop, nagging me about every kopek, it’s her in here, the so-called intelligent, liberated one, God help us, feeling insulted because she can’t understand her own father. Well, let me tell you. I came in here to insult your feelings because out there I was being torn limb from limb and drawn and quartered! ‘Can’t understand’! I feel dizzy, I’m losing my mind. So to hell with you.

He goes towards the door and stops.

But I don’t like what’s going on. I don’t like any of it.

SashaWhat don’t you like?

LebedevAll of it!

SashaAll of what?

LebedevDo you think I’m going to sit you down and spill everything? I don’t like anything that’s going on . . . I mean, this wedding.

He goes up to Sasha and speaks gently.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Shurochka. Perhaps this marriage of yours is a good idea and honest-to-God, but there’s something about it that just isn’t made in heaven. It’s not like other marriages. You’re so young – as clean as a pane of glass, and so lovely. And he’s a widower, all patched up and threadbare . . . and I can’t make him out, God help him.

He kisses his daughter.

Forgive me, Shurochka, but something is not quite decent about it. People are talking . . . about how his wife died, and then suddenly he sets his cap at you for who-knows-what reason . . . (Briskly.) I’m talking like an old gossip. I’m an old woman in a crinoline. Don’t listen to me. Don’t listen to anybody. Listen to your heart.

SashaNo, I’ve had the same feeling . . . that something isn’t right. It’s true, isn’t it? If only you knew how unhappy I am. It’s horrible. I’m frightened to admit it. Dear darling Daddy, make me feel better, tell me what to do.

LebedevWhat are you . . . What do you want me to

say?

SashaI’ve never been so scared. I feel I don’t know him, and never will. All the time we’ve been engaged, he’s never once smiled at me, or looked me in the face . . . complaining all the time, reproaching himself for this or that, dropping hints about some guilt he carries . . . His hands never stop shaking . . . I’m worn out with it. There are even times when I feel . . . that I don’t love him as much as I should . . . and when he comes to see us and talks to me, I find myself getting bored. What does it mean, Papa? I’m scared.

LebedevMy little dove, my only child – listen to your father. Give him up!

Sasha(alarmed) What are you saying?

LebedevIt’s the right thing to do, Shurochka. There’ll be a fuss, tongues going like clappers in a church bell for miles around – but better put up with a bit of scandal than ruin your whole life.

SashaDon’t say it – don’t say that, Papa! I don’t want to hear it. I have to fight against these gloomy thoughts. He’s a good, unhappy, misunderstood man. I’m going to love him, and put him back on his feet. It’s my duty, I’ll do it, and that’s all there is to be said.

LebedevThat’s not duty, that’s obsession.

SashaI don’t want to talk about it. I told you something I didn’t even want to admit to myself. Please don’t tell anybody else, just forget about it.

LebedevI’m lost. Either I’m getting stupid or everyone else is getting cleverer, but I’m damned if I understand anything any more.

Shabelsky enters.

ShabelskyTo hell with everybody, me included. It’s an absolute disgrace.

LebedevWhat is?

ShabelskyNo, I mean it – whatever the consequences, I’m going to have to do something so vile I hate myself for it, and so will everyone else. But on my word of honour, I’m going to go ahead with it. I’ve told Borkin he can announce my engagement. (Laughs.) I can be just as rotten as the rest of them!

LebedevIf you go on like this they’ll lock you up with the loonies.

ShabelskyThe loony bin can’t be any worse than this place. Take me to it, you’ll be doing me a favour. What a bunch of third-rate, small-minded dolts, and I’m as bad or worse, I’ve stopped believing a word I say . . .

LebedevWhy don’t you just set fire to a mouthful of meths and blow it in their faces? Alternatively, get your hat and go home. There’s a wedding going on here, everybody’s enjoying themselves, and you’re going around cawing like a crow. Or –

Shabelsky drapes himself over the piano and sobs.

Oh, Lord . . . what’s up, Matvey? . . . Count! . . . What’s the matter? Matyushka, dear fellow, my angel – was it something I said? You mustn’t mind an old soak like me. Drink some water . . .

ShabelskyNo.

LebedevWhat are you crying about?

ShabelskyIt’s really nothing . . .