Vilitski: Mikhail Ivanych told me that you were here alone. Pardon me, the old man is so worried.
Fonk: That’s nothing.
Vilitski [pressing his hand]: You are very kind and indulgent. I told you — Mikhail Ivanych is a very good man. . . . I can really call him my benefactor. ... He is quite a simple man. . . . [Vilitski is waiting for Fonk to interrupt him, but Fonk keeps quiet.] Isn’t he? . . .
Fonk: Why, no, I think Mr. Moshkin is quite a nice man. Of course, as far as I have seen him, he hasn’t had a very good education, but thafs of secondary consideration. By the way, I saw a lady here. ... Is she the aunt of your bride?
Vilitski [blushing slightly, and smiling forcedly]: She . . . she isn’t a rich woman. However, she is very kind and
Fonk: I don’t doubt that. [After a moment’s silence.] Have you been acquainted with Mr. Moshkin long?
Vilitski: Three years.
Fonk: Has he been working long in St. Petersburg?
Vilitski: Yes, a long time.
Fonk: How old is Mr. Moshkin?
Vilitski: About fifty, i think.
Fonk: Will he remain chairman much longer? — How soon may I have the pleasure of seeing your bride?
Vilitski: She will be in presently.
Fonk: Mr. Moshkin spoke very highly of her.
Vilitski: That isn’t at all surprising. Mikhail Ivanych thinks the world of her. And really, Masha is a very amiable, very kind girl. To be sure, she grew up in poverty, in seclusion; she saw hardly anybody. Well, on account of that, of course, she is a little timid; even a little unconventional. She hasn’t that dash, you know, and — but don’t judge her severely from the first meeting.
Fonk: Why, on the contrary, my dear Petr Ilich, I am convinced
Vilitski: Don’t judge her at first sight, that’s all I ask of you.
Fonk: Pardon me, but your confidence, your full confidence in me gives me a certain right. . . . However, on the other hand, I don’t know really . . .
Vilitski: Speak out, please.
Fonk: Your bride hasn’t much wealth.
Vilitski: She hasn’t anything.
Fonk [after a moment’s silence]: Yes. Well, I can understand that — Love!
Vilitski [after another silence]: Yes, I love her very much.
Fonk: Hm, hm! In that case, there is nothing more to wish for. And if the marriage will bring you happiness, I congratulate you from the depths of my heart. Do you intend to go to the theatre this evening? Rubini is singing in “Lucia.”
Vilitski: This evening? No, I don’t think I’ll go. I intend to go some other time with my bride and with Mikhail Ivanych. It seems to me that you wanted to tell me something else, concerning my marriage?
Fonk: I? No. . . . Tell me, please, your bride’s name is Maria — Maria Vasilevna, isn’t it?
Vilitski: Yes, Maria Vasilevna.
Fonk: And what’s her last name?
Vilitski: Her last name? [Looks one side.] Bielova — Maria Vasilevna Bielova.
Fonk [after a moment’s silence]: Yes. By the way, are we going, to - morrow, to see Baron Videngopf?
Vilitski: Surely, if you want to introduce me to him.
Fonk: With the greatest of pleasure. By the way, what time is it? [Looks at the clock.] Quarter of four!
Vilitski: It’s time to eat. What’s the matter with Mikhail Ivanych? [Looks around.]
[Shpundik enters. He wears an old - fashioned black dress - coat, high - waisted and with a high collar. Wears a white, close - fitting tie, with a buckle; a very short, striped, velvet vest with mother - of - pearl buttons; and very light, pea - colored pantaloons. He has in his hand a soft velour hat. Seeing two strange people, he begins to curtsy, drawing back his right foot and occasionally lifting his left. He presses his hat hard against his stomach. He seems quite confused. Vilitski and Fonk bow to him silently.]
Fonk [semi - audibly to Vilitski]: Who is that gentleman?
Vilitski [in the same tone]: I really don’t know. [To Shpundik.] May I know what you wish, sir?
Shpundik: Shpundik, Filipp Egorych. I am a landowner from Tambov. However, you needn’t bother your
selves about me. [Takes out a handkerchief and wipes his forehead.]
Vilitski: I am very pleased — Maybe you’d like to see Mikhail Ivanych?
Shpundik: Don’t bother yourselves, please. I’ll — I — [He blushes, laughs a little, then walks off to the right sideways.]
Fonk [to Vilitski]: What a funny fellow!
Vilitski: He must be an acquaintance of Mikhail Ivan - ych’s. I have never seen him here before. [Loudly to Shpundik.] Mikhail Ivanych will be here presently.
[Shpundik makes an uncertain movement with his head, smiles, and turns away. Vilitski turns to Fonk, pleadingly.]
Vilitski: Eodion Karlych! Please. . . . Pardon. . . .
Fonk [pressing his hand]: Oh, nonsense, nonsense! [Turns around.] Oh, here is Mr. Moshkin himself.
[Mosiikin and Masha appear in the door on the left. He leads her by the hand, Priazhkina follows them in. Masha is dressed in white, with a blue sash. She is very confused.]
Moshkin [triumphantly, but with some timidity]: Masha! I have the honor of introducing to you Mr. von Fonk.
[Masha curtsies. Priazhkina curtsies in back of her.]
Mosiikin [speaking to Fonk and pointing to Masha]: This, Rodion Karlych, is my Masha.
Fonk [to Masha]: I am very flattered. ... I consider myself very fortunate. ... I have long desired the pleasure of
[Masha does not answer; bows slightly with her head.]
Shpundik: Yes, sir, exactly. From the government of Tambov, the county of Ostrogozhsk.
Fonk: Quite a grain producing district!
Shpundik: Yes, it is quite a grain producing district, but I can’t say that it has been very satisfactory of late, to us land - owners.
Fonk: Why?
Shpundik: The crops have been bad. For the last three years, they have been bad.
Fonk: Well, that is discouraging.
Shpundik: There has been very little good in it, very little good in it. Still, we’ve tried to the best of our ability, for we realize our duty. Surely, we are simple people, country people. We can’t all run to the capital. The best products are there. At least, we try to the best of our ability ... to the best of our ability
Fonk: That’s very praiseworthy.
Shpundik: Duty first. But there are great inconveniences involved. Sometimes, one doesn’t know what to do. One tries this and that, but — simply gets to his wits’ ends. Even one’s imagination grows dull. [He assumes a tired pose.]
Fonk: What are the inconveniences, for instance?
Shpundik: Well, the dam breaks; the cattle, with your permission, die out. [With a sigh.] Of course, it is God’s will in all that, and we must submit humbly.
Fonk: That is discouraging. [He turns his attention to Masha.]
Shpundik: Moreover, — [Noticing that Fonk has turned away from him, he gets confused and stops talking.]
Fonk [to Masha, in whose ear Vilitski has been whisper
ing during the previous conversation]: You must also like dancing?
Masha: No, sir, not very much.
Fonk: Is that possible? How strange! [To Vilitski.] The last ball at the Noblemen’s Club was a brilliant success. There must have been three thousand people there.
Moshkin: Just think of it! [Turning to Shpdndik.] Ha! Filipp, that’s where you ought to go. What do you think? Can you see a ball like that at home? [Laughs. Shpundik lifts his eyes sadly.]
Fonk [to Masha]: Don’t you like to dress — and pleasure in general? That’s so innate
Masha: Why, yes. I like to . . .
Fonk [smiling in the direction of Priazhkina]: Does your aunt attend to your dresses? Surely, that cannot be Moshkin’s duty?
[Priazhkina puffs up with fright.]
Masha: Yes, my aunt attends to that.
[Fonk looks at her for a while and Masha drops her eyes.]
&
nbsp; Vilitski [getting in hack of Moshkin; semi - audibly]: How about the dinner, Mikhail Ivanych? It’s terrible. The conversation doesn’t go at all.
Moshkin [getting up and almost murmuring to Vilitski, but with unusual energy]: But what can you do with that cursed cook? That creature will be the death of me. Go, Petr, for God’s sake, and tell her that I’ll kick her out tomorrow, if she doesn’t send the dinner in at once. [Vilitski starts to go.] And tell that good - for - nothing Stratilat to bring in some appetizers, on the new tray. Otherwise, he might use the old one. He doesn’t care who is here. All he knows is how to make a noise in the vestibule. [Vilitski goes out. Moshkin turns quickly to Fonk.] So, so, I fully agree with you.
Fonk [looking at Moshkin with some surprise]: Yes. Tell me, please . . . [He doesn’t know what to say.] Yes. Where does Mr. Kufnagel live?
Moshkin: On Podiacheski Street, in Blinnikov’s house, in the yard, on the third floor. At the entrance to that house, there is a very bright sign, a very interesting sign, for you can’t understand it. Still, the trade that it advertises must be a pretty good one.
Fonk: I am very much obliged to you. I want to see Kufnagel. [He laughs.] Once, a most unusual incident happened to him in my presence. Imagine! Once, while we were walking on Nevski
Moshkin: Yes, yes?
Fonk: We were walking on Nevski. Suddenly, a very short man in a bear’s skin approached him and wanted to embrace him and kiss him — Just imagine! Kufnagel, of course, pushed him away and said: “Are you out of your head, sir?” And the man in the fur coat started to embrace him again and asked him if he had been away from Kharkov a long time and similar questions. Just imagine, on the street! Finally, it all came out. The man in the fur coat had mistaken Kufnagel for one of his friends. The interesting point about it, I want you to note, is the fact that there are people who look alike.
Moshkin [in ecstasies]: It’s a most interesting, a most interesting anecdote. However, such resemblances do happen. Do you remember, Filipp, how two neighbors of ours, the brothers Polgusev? — It was impossible to distinguish between them. It is true, one had a very wide nose, and a cataract on his eye — Then he became bald - headed, due to drink. But the resemblance was most surprising. Isn’t that true, Filipp?
Shpundik: Yes, there was a great resemblance. [Thoughtfully] It is said, that such things depend on various causes. Science, of course, can discover those things.
Moshkin [warmly]: And it will, it positively will.
Shpundik [with dignity]: I don’t think it can be said so, positively. However, it’s apt to be so. [After a short silence] Why not?
Fonk [to Masha]: The pranks of Nature in such cases are extraordinary.
[Masha doesn’t say anything. Stratilat comes in from the vestibule, carrying a tray with appetizers on it. Vilitski follows him.]
Moshkin [who has been standing; anxiously]: Wouldn’t you like an appetizer before dinner? [Motioning to Stratilat to come towards the front.] Come up here. [To Fonk.] Wouldn’t you like a little caviar? [Fonk refuses.] No? As you please. Ekaterina Savishna! Help yourself. And you, Masha. [Priazhkina takes a piece of bread and caviar and eats. Masha refuses.] Filipp, don’t you want some? [Shpundik gets up, pulls Stratilat to one side, and helps himself to a glass of vodka. Vilitski goes up to Fonk. Suddenly Malania appears in the vestibule door.]
Malania: Mikhail Ivanych!
Moshkin [furious, running to meet her, and barring her entrance; semi - audibly]: Where are you going, you idiot?
Malania: Dinner
Moshkin [pushing her out]: All right. Go. [Turning around quickly] Does anyone want some more? No? Nobody? [All are silent. Moshkin murmurs something to Stratilat.] Go, go, quickly, and announce that dinner is ready. [Stratilat goes out. Mosiikin turns to Fonk.] May I know, Eodion Karlych, whether you play cards?
Fonk: Yes, I play, but now, I think dinner is nearly ready. Moreover, I am in such pleasant company — [Points to Masha; Vilitski bites his lips slightly.]
Moshkin: Surely, not now. We will have dinner now. I merely asked. If you like, we’ll play a little after dinner.
Fonk: With pleasure. [To Masha.] I think you must be quite indifferent to card - playing?
Masha: Yes, I am. I don’t play cards.
Fonk: That’s understood. At your age, other thoughts occupy your mind. Does your esteemed aunt play?
Masha [turning slightly in Priazhkina’s direction]: She plays.
Fonk [to Priazhkina]: Preference?
Priazhkina: Hearts.
Fonk: I don’t know that game. Ladies have a perfect right to complain about cards
Masha [naively]: Why?
Fonk: Why? Your question surprises me.
Vilitski: Really, Maria Vasilevna
[Masha gets more confused.]
Stratilat [coming in from the vestibule; loudly]: Eating is done!
Moshkin: Thank God! [All get up.] Please, come and help yourselves, to whatever the Lord has given us. Masha, give your hand to Rodion Karlych. Petrusha, you take Ekaterina Savishna’s hand.
Shpundik: And we, my boy, will go together. [Takes him by the arm.] So, like this.
[All go into the vestibule. Moshkin and Shpundik in the rear.]
Moshkin: Soon we will march this way to the wedding, Filipp. Why do you look so dejected?
Shpundik [urith a sigh]: Nothing, my boy, I feel better now. Only, I see that here, in St. Petersburg, things are different from what they are at home. I am puzzled . . .
Moshkin: Ah, my boy, that’s all nonsense. Wait, you’ll see. We’ll open a bottle of champagne and drink to the health of the betrothed. That’ll be better. Come on, my friends. [All go out.]
CURTAIN
ACT TWO
Scene: A poorly furnished room of a young bachelor. A door in the background; another on the right. A table, sofa, and several chairs. A few books on some shelves; pipes lying around on the bureau. Vilitski sits on a chair, dressed. Holds an open book in his lap.
Vilitski [after a moment’s silence]: Mitka!
Mitka [coming in from the vestibule]: Yes, sir?
Vilitski [having looked at him]: A pipe. [Mitka goes to the bureau, and fills a pipe with tobacco and gives it to him.] Didn’t anyone bring a note from Rodion Karlych to - day?
Mitka: No, sir. [Gives him a match.]
Vilitski [lighting the pipe]: Mikhail Ivanych may come in to - day. So tell him again that I am not at home. Do you hear me?
Mitka: I do. [Goes out.]
Vilitski [after having puffed at his pipe, gets up]: This must end somehow! It is unbearable; it’s positively unbearable. [Walks around the room.] My behavior, I know, was unpardonably harsh. It is five days since I have been to see them — Since that cursed dinner. But what can I do? Oh, Lord! I can’t dissemble. However, it must come to some end. I can’t go on hiding myself; sit around for days in other people’s houses; and stay overnight again somewhere else. I must decide upon something. What will they think about me in the office? It is an unpardonable weakness; it is childishness. [After a moment’s silence] Mitka!
Mitka [coming in from the vestibule]: Yes, sir?
Vilitski: Did you tell me that Mikhail was here last evening?
Mitka [throinng his hands behind his back]: Yes, sir, he has been here daily, since Sunday. Vilitski: Hm, hm!
Mitka: Sunday, he was very uneasy. He was worried about your health, and he asked why you hadn’t been to see them yesterday.
A Sportsman's Sketches: Works of Ivan Turgenev 1 Page 369