[The maids run into the hall, coming into collision with Pyotr in the doorway. He is carrying in both hands a dish with a huge bread ring and a salt - cellar on it.]
Pyotr. Look out, you crazy creatures!
Trembinsky [snatches the dish from Pyotr and puts it into Yegor’s hands]. That’s for you. . . . Go out on the steps, go along! [Pushes him off together with Pyotr and Praskovya Ivanovna, runs after them himself and shouts in the hall: ‘And where are the men - servants . . . send the men here!’]
Voice of Pyotr. Call Anpadist!
Another Voice. The foreman has taken away his boots.
Voice of Trembinsky. The coachmen this way, the coachmen!
Voices of the Maids. They’re coming, they’re coming!
Voice of Trembinsky. Silence now! Silence!
[A complete silence reigns. Kuzovkin, who has throughout this excitement been in a state of great agitation, yet has scarcely stirred, listens eagerly. Suddenly the band begins playing out of tune: ‘ Thunder of victory resound....’ A carriage drives up to the steps, there is a sound of talk, the band stops. Kissing is heard.... A moment later Olga Petrovna walks in with her husband; in one hand he holds the bread; they are followed by Trembinsky, Yegor with the dish, Praskovya Ivanovna and the Servants, who, however, remain in the doorway.]
Olga [with a smile to her husband]. Well here we are at home at last, Paul. [Yelets ky presses her hand.] How glad I am! [Turns to the servants.] Thank you, thank you! [Indicating Yelets ky.] Here is your new master. . . . I beg you to love him and welcome him. [To her husband.] Rendez cela, mon ami. [Yeletsky hands the bread ring to Yegor.]
Trembinsky [bowing with the whole upper half of his body]. Will you be pleased to order something .. . to eat... or tea, perhaps?
Olga. No, thank you, not yet. [To her husband.] I want to show you the whole house, your study. ... It’s seven long years since I’ve been here . . . seven years!
Yeletsky. Do show me.
Praskovya Ivanovna [taking Olga’s hat and cloak from her. Our dear lady, our darling. . . .
Olga [smiles in response and looks round]. Our house has grown older. . . . And the rooms look smaller.
Yeletsky [in the tone of a kind schoolmaster]. It always seems like that. You were a child when you left it.
Kuzovkin [who all this time has not taken his eyes off Olga, goes up to her]. Olga Petrovna, allow me. . . . [His voice breaks.]
Olga [does not recognize him for the first moment]. Ah — ah, Vassily. . . . Vassily Petrovitch, how are you? I hardly knew you at first.
Kuzovkin [kissing her hand]. Allow me ... to congratulate you.
Olga [to her husband, indicating Kuzovkin]. Our old friend, Vassily Petrovitch. .. .
Yeletsky [bows]. Pleased to meet you.
[Ivanov, too, bows in the distance, though nobody has yet noticed him.]
Kuzovkin [bows to Yeletsky]. . . . Congratulations. ... We are ... all... so glad.
Yeletsky [bows again; aside to his wife], < Who’s this?
Olga [aside], A poor gentleman who lives in our house. [Aloud.] Well, let us go, I want to show you the whole house. ... I was born here, Paul, I grew up here. . . .
Yeletsky. Delighted, let us . . . [To Trembinsky.] And you, please tell my valet to carry my things up.
Trembinsky [in a fluster]. Yes, sir, yes, sir.
Olga. Come along, Paul. [They go out into the drawing - room.]
Trembinsky [in a low voice to all the servants]. Well, my friends, now go to your places. You, Yegor Alexeyitch, stay in the hall — the master may ask for you.
[Yegor and the menservants go out into the hall. Praskovya Ivanovna and the maids into the corridor.]
Praskovya Ivanovna [in the doorway]. Go along, go along. . . . What are you laughing at, Masha? [Goes out.]
Trembinsky [to Kuzovkin and Ivanov]. And you are staying here, gentlemen?
Kuzovkin. Yes. We will stay here.
Trembinsky. Oh, very well. . . . But, please, you know . . . [Gesticulates.] . . . Quiet, for goodness sake, or I shall be to blame for it. [Goes out on tip - toe into hall.]
Kuzovkin [looks after him, then turns quickly to Ivanov]. Well, Vanya, what do you think of her? Come, tell me what you think of her? Hasn’t she grown? Isn’t she lovely? And she hasn’t forgotten me. Has she? You see, Vanya, you see: I was right.
Ivanov. Hadn’t forgotten you. . . . Then why did she call you Vassily Petrovitch?
Kuzovkin. What a man you are, Vanya! Why — what does it matter, Petrovitch or Semyonitch — it’s all the same . . . you can see that for yourself, you’re a sensible man. She introduced me to her husband. A fine - looking man! A splendid fellow. You can see from his face. .. Oh yes, he’s a great man in the service, I expect. Don’t you think so, Vanya?
Ivanov. I don’t know, Vassily Semyonitch, I’d better be going.
Kuzovkin. Oh, Vanya! What’s the matter with you? Why, you’re not like yourself. You must go and you must go! You’d much better tell me what you thought of our young lady.
Ivanov. She’s handsome, I’m not denying it.
Kuzovkin. Her smile alone is worth . . . And her voice? Sweet as a warbler, simply, a canary singing. And she loves her husband. You can see that at once. You can, Vanya, can’t you?
Ivanov. Goodness only knows, Vassily Semyonitch.
Kuzovkin. It’s too bad of you, Ivan Kuzmitch, it’s too bad. A man’s happy, and you . . . But here they are coming back.
[Olga and Yeletsky come in from the drawing - room.’]
Olga. Our house is not very grand, as you see. Such as it is, it’s all yours.
Yeletsky. Why, it’s a very fine house; so very well designed.
Olga. Well, now let us go into the garden.
Yeletsky. I shall be delighted . . . but ... I should like to have two or three words with your bailiff.
Olga [reproachfully]. Mine?
Yeletsky [with a smile]. Ours. [Kisses her hand.]
Olga. Well, as you like. I’ll take Vassily Petrovitch with me. Vassily Petrovitch, let us go into the garden. ... Will you come with me?
Kuzovkin [his face beaming with pleasure]. Certainly.
Yeletsky. Put on your hat, Olga.
Olga. I don’t need it. [Throws a scarf over her head.] Come, Vassily Petrovitch.
Kuzovkin. Allow me, Olga Petrovna, to introduce a neighbour . . . Ivanov. [Ivanov bows, embarrassed.]
Olga. Delighted. [To Ivanov.] Will you care to come into the garden with us? Give me your arm, Vassily Petrovitch.
Kuzovkin [hardly able to believe his ears]. How? . . .
Olga [laughing]. Why, like this. [Takes his arm and puts hers on it.] Do you remember, Vassily Petrovitch?. . . [They go out through the glass door. Ivanov fallows them.]
Yeletsky [goes to the glass door, looks after his wife, comes back to table on Left and sits down]. Here! Boy! Who - ever’s there!
Pyotr [coming in from the hall]. What is your pleasure?
Yeletsky. What is your name, my lad?
Pyotr. Pyotr, sir.
Yeletsky. Ah! Well, then, fetch me the bailiff — what’s his name — Yegor, isn’t it?
Pyotr. Yes, sir.
Yeletsky. Fetch him here.
[Pyotr goes out. A moment later Yegor comes in, stands in the doorway and folds his hands behind his back.~
Yeletsky [speaking like the head of a government department]. Yegor, I intend to inspect Olga Petrovna’s estate to - morrow.
Yegor. Yes, sir.
Yeletsky. How many serfs are there?
Yegor. Three hundred and eighty - four of the male sex at the last census. More by now.
Yeletsky. And how many more?
Yegor [coughs with his hand over his mouth]. There’ll be a couple of dozen or so.
Yeletsky. H’m. ... I beg you to ascertain exactly and report to me. Is the land all in one piece?
Yegor. The estate’s in one round, sir.
Yeletsky [stares at Yegor in some perplexity], H’m. . . . I
s there much good arable land?
Yegor. A fair amount, sir. Eight hundred and twenty - five acres in a wedge.
Yeletsky [again stares at Yegor in perplexity]. And how much that is not good?
Yegor [hesitating]. How can I reckon, sir? . . . Under copse . . . there’s the ravines, too. . . . And round the homestead . . . and the pastures too. . . . [With more assurance.] It’s mown for hay.
Yeletsky [raising his eyebrows]. How much precisely?
Yegor. Who can say, sir? The land hasn’t been measured. Perhaps it may be marked on a plan. It runs up to a hundred and fifty acres, may be.
Yeletsky [to himself]. This is all very irregular. [Aloud.] And is there any forest?
Yegor. Eighty - four acres and a rood or so.
Yeletsky [aloud and impressively]. So then there are about fifteen hundred acres in all?
Yegor. Fifteen hundred, sir? It’s over six thousand.
Yeletsky. Why, you said yourself. . . . [Stops short.]
Yes . . . yes ... I meant to say that. Do you understand?
Yegor. Yes, sir.
Yeletsky [very seriously] And what about the peasants here? Are they well - conducted? Obedient?
Yegor. They’re a good set. Like being kept in order.
Yeletsky. H’m. . . . And not very poor?
Yegor. Oh dear, no, sir. Not at all. Very well satisfied.
Yeletsky. Well, I’ll go into all that myself to - morrow. You can go. Oh, tell me, please, that person living here — who is he?
Yegor. Vassily Semyonitch Kuzovkin, a gentleman. He just lives here. He’s been here since the old master’s time. His honour kept him for sport and diversion, you may say.
Yeletsky. He’s been living here a long time then?
Yegor. For years, sir. It’s twenty years since the old master died, and it was in his lifetime Vassily Semyonitch came to live here.
Yeletsky. Oh, very good. ... I suppose you have a counting - house?
Yegor. To be sure, we couldn’t do without. . . .
Yeletsky. I’ll inspect it all to - morrow. You can go. [Yegor goes out.] This bailiff seems stupid. However, we shall see. [Gets up and walks to and fro.] Here I am in the country — on my own estate. It feels strange. But it’s pleasant. [In the hall the voice of Tropatchov, saying: ‘They’ve arrived? To - day?’]
Yeletsky [to himself]. Who’s that?
Pyotr [coming from the hall], Flegont Alexandritch Tropatchov has arrived, sir. Wishes to see you, sir. Shall I show him in, sir?
Yeletsky [to himself]. Who on earth is it?... I seem to know the name. [Aloud.] Ask him in.
Tropatchov [entering]. Good morning, Pavel Nikolaitch, bonjour. [Yeletsky bows with obvious surprise.]
believe you don’t recognize me. . . . Don’t you remember, in Petersburg, at Count Kuntsov’s?
Yeletsky. Oh, yes . . . delighted to meet you. . . . [Shakes hands.]
Tropatchov. I’m your nearest neighbour. I live only a mile and a half from here. I pass your very door on my way to the town. I heard you were expected. ... I thought I’d drive round and inquire to - day. But if I’ve come at the wrong moment, please say so. Entre gens comme il faut, you know ... no standing on ceremony!
Yeletsky. On the contrary — I hope you’ll stay and dine with us . .. though I don’t know what our country cook may be giving us.
Tropatchov [affectedly and playing with his stick]. Oh, come, I say, I know you have everything in grand style. I hope you will do me the honour of dining with me one day soon. . . . You wouldn’t believe how glad I am that you have come. . . . There are so few decent people here, des gens comme il faut. Et Madame? How is she? I used to know her as a little girl. Yes, yes, I know your wife, I know her very well. I congratulate you, Pavel Nikolaitch, I do indeed. Ha! ha! But I dare say she doesn’t remember me. [Strikes an attitude and strokes his whiskers.]
Yeletsky. She’ll be very glad to see you. . . . She is in the garden with that. .. that gentleman who lives here.
Tropatchov [contemptuously]. Ah! that fellow! He’s something in the way of a clown, I fancy. He’s a harmless person, though. And by the way, I brought another gentleman with me... . He’s outside in the hall. ... May I call him?
Yeletsky. By all means. ... The idea of leaving him.
Tropatchov. Oh, ne faites pas attention. That’s all right. . . it’s of no consequence. He lives with me because he’s poor, too. He drives about with me. It’s a bore going about alone, you know. Please don’t trouble about him . . . je vous en prie. [Goes towards the hall.] Karpatchov!
come in, old boy. [Karpatchov appears from the hall and bows.] Here, Pavel Nikolaitch, I commend him to you.
Yeletsky. Pleased to meet you.
Tropatchov [takes Yeletsky by the arm and gently draws him away from Karpatchov, who humbly retires to one side], C’est bien, c’est bien. Are you staying long among us, Pavel Nikolaitch?
Yeletsky. I have taken three months’ leave. [They begin walking up and down the room.]
Tropatchov. That’s a short holiday. But I quite understand you can’t be spared longer. I expect it was difficult for you to get away at all. Ha, ha! But you must have a rest. Are you fond of shooting?
Yeletsky. I have never had a gun in my hand in my life.... But I did buy a dog before I came away. Is there much game here?
Tropatchov. Yes, plenty. Only leave it to me. We’ll make a sportsman of you. [To Karpatchov.] How many coveys have we in Malinnik?
Karpatchov [from the corner, in a deep bass]. Two, and three more in Kamenny Gryada.
Tropatchov. Good.
Karpatchov. Fedul, the forester, was telling me, too, the other day that in Goryelye . . . [Olga comes in from the garden with Kuzovkin and Ivanov. Karpatchov breaks off and bows.]
Olga. Oh, Paul, our garden is so lovely. .. . [Stops on seeing Tropatchov.]
Yeletsky [to Olga]. Let me introduce . . .
Tropatchov [interrupting]. Excuse me, excuse me, we’re old friends. ... I dare say Olga Petrovna does not recognize me. . . . And no wonder. I knew her [Holds his hand about a yard from the floor] comme 5a. [Strikes an attitude and goes on.] Flegont Tropatchov, don’t you remember your neighbour, Flegont Tropatchov? Do you remember i used to bring you playthings from town? You were such a charming child then, but now . . . [Emphasizes the last word significantly, bows, takes one step back and draws himself up, very self - satisfied.]
Olga. Oh, Monsieur Tropatchov ... yes. ... I know you now. . . . [Holds out her hand to him.] You wouldn’t believe how happy I am ever since we arrived home.
Tropatchov [sugarily]. Only since then?
Olga [smiles in answer]. My childhood comes back so vividly.... Paul, you really must come into the garden with me. I’ll show you the acacia I planted myself. . . . It’s much taller than I am now.
Yeletsky [to Olga, indicating Karpatchov]. Monsieur Karpatchov, another neighbour.
[Karpatchov bows and shrinks into the corner, into which Kuzovkin and Ivanov have already retired.]
Olga. I’m glad to meet you. . . .
Tropatchov [to Olga]. Ne faites pas attention. [Aloud, rubbing his hands.] So here you are at home and mistress in your own house. How time does fly, doesn’t it?
Olga. I hope you will stay to dinner with us?
Yeletsky. I have already asked . . . pardon . . . what is your name and your father’s?
Tropatchov. Flegont Alexandritch.
Yeletsky. I have asked Flegont Alexandritch. I’m only afraid the dinner may not. . .
Tropatchov. Oh! Nonsense!
Olga [drawing Yeletsky a little aside]. Unlucky this gentleman has come just now.
Yeletsky. Yes. He seems a decent fellow, though.
Tropatchov [walks away with a careless swing, biting the knob of his stick, goes up to Kuzovkin and says in his face]. Hullo! Well, how are you?
Kuzovkin. Very well. I humbly thank you.
Tropatchov [jerking his elbow towards Karpatchov]. You know him, of course?
Kuz
ovkin. To be sure. . . . We have met, sir.
Tropatchov. Yes, yes, yes. [to Ivanov.] And you, what’s your name? Let me see — you here too?
Ivanov. I’m here, too.
A Sportsman's Sketches: Works of Ivan Turgenev 1 Page 343