Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)

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Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) Page 327

by Ivan Turgenev


  ISLAYEV. Won’t you come with us, Natasha?

  NATALYA PETROVNA. As though I know anything about your machines! You go by yourselves - - and mind you’re not late.

  ISLAYEV [going out with RAKITIN]. We’ll be back immediately.

  [BELIAYEV is about to follow them.]

  NATALYA PETROVNA [to BELIAYEV]. Where are you going, Alexey Nikolaitch?

  BELIAYEV. I ... I. ...

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Of course go, if you want a walk. . . .

  BELIAYEV. Why no, I’ve been out of doors all the morning.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Well, then, sit down. ... Sit here. [Motions him to a chair.] We have not had a proper talk, Alexey Nikolaitch. We have not made friends yet. [BELIAYEV bows and sits down.] I want to get to know you.

  BELIAYEV. I’m . . . it’s very kind of you.

  NATALYA PETROVNA [with a smile]. You are afraid of me, I see ... but wait a little, you won’t be afraid of me, when you know me. Tell me . .. tell me now how old are you?

  BELIAYEV. Twenty - one.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Are your parents living?

  BELIAYEV. My mother is dead, my father is living.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Has your mother been dead long?

  BELIAYEV. Yes, a long time.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. But you remember her?

  BELIAYEV. Oh yes ... I remember her.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. And does your father live in Moscow?

  BELIAYEV. Oh no, in the country.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. And have you any brothers and sisters?

  BELIAYEV. One sister. NATALYA PETROVNA. Are you fond of her? BELIAYEV. Yes. She’s much younger than I am. NATALYA PETROVNA. And what’s her name? BELIAYEV. Natalya.

  NATALYA PETROVNA [eagerly]. Natalya! How odd! I’m Natalya too! . . . [Pauses.] And you are very fond of her?

  BELIAYEV. Yes.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Tell me what do you think of my Kolya?

  BELIAYEV. He is a dear boy.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. He is, isn’t he? And so affectionate. He’s devoted to you already.

  BELIAYEV. I’ll do my best. . . . I’m glad.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. You see, Alexey Nikolaitch, of of course I should like to make him a thoroughly able man - - I don’t know whether I shall succeed in that, but anyway I want him to look back on his childhood with pleasure. Let him grow up in freedom, that’s the great thing. I was brought up very differently, Alexey Nikolaitch; my father was not an unkind man, but he was stern and irritable; everyone in the house, including my mother, was afraid of him. My brother and I used to cross ourselves in terror whenever we were summoned to his room. Sometimes my father would pet me, but even in his arms I was in a panic. My brother grew up, and you may perhaps have heard of his rupture with my father. ... I shall never forget that awful day. ... I remained an obedient daughter up to my father’s death. . . . He used to call me his consolation, his Antigone (he was blind for some years before his death) ... but however tender he was he could never make me forget those early impressions. ... I was afraid of him, a blind old man, and never felt at ease in his presence. The traces of timidity, of those years of repression, haven’t perhaps quite disappeared even now.... I know that at first sight I seem ... how shall I say? . . . frigid, perhaps. . . . But I notice I’m talking to you about myself, instead of talking about Kolya. I only meant to say that I know from my own experience how good it is for a child to grow up in freedom. You now, I imagine, have never been repressed as a child, have you?

  BELIAYEV. I don’t know really. . . . Of course nobody repressed me, nobody bothered about me.

  NATALYA PETROVNA [shyly]. Why, didn’t your father....

  BELIAYEV. He’d no time to spare. He was always going round among the neighbours ... on business ... or if not business exactly. . . . He got his living through them, in a way. . . . By his services. . . .

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Oh! So then nobody troubled about bringing you up?

  BELIAYEV. As a matter of fact, nobody did. I dare say that’s evident though, I’m only too aware of my defects.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Perhaps ... but on the other hand. . . . [Checks herself and adds in some embarrassment.] Oh, by the way, Alexey Nikolaitch, was that you singing in the garden yesterday?

  BELIAYEV. When?

  NATALYA PETROVNA. In the evening ... by the pond . .. was it you?

  BELIAYEV. Yes. [Hurriedly.] I didn’t think . . . the pond is such a long way off. ... I didn’t think it could be heard from here.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Are you apologizing? You have a very pleasant musical voice and you sing so well. You have studied music?

  BELIAYEV. No, not at all. I only sing by ear ... only simple songs.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. You sing them capitally. ... I’ll ask you some time . . . not just now, but when we know each other better, when we are friends. . . . We are going to be friends, Alexey Nikolaitch, aren’t we? I feel confidence in you; the way I’ve been chattering is a proof of it. . . . [She holds out her hand for him to shake hands. BELIAYEV takes it irresolutely and after some hesitation, not knowing what to do with the hand, kisses it. NATALYA PETROVNA flushes and draws away her hand. At that moment SHPIGELSKY comes in from the outer room, stops short, then takes a step forward, NATALYA PETROVNA gets up quickly, BELIAYEV does the same.] NATALYA PETROVNA [embarrassed]. Oh, it’s you, Doctor . . . here Alexey Nikolaitch and I have been having

  . . . [Stops.]

  SHPIGELSKY [in a loud, free and easy voice]. Really, Natalya Petrovna, the goings on in your house! I walk into the servants’ hall and ask for the sick coachman, and my patient is sitting at the table gobbling up pancake and onion. Much good it is being a doctor and relying on illness for getting a living.

  NATALYA PETROVNA [with a constrained smile]. Really. [BELIAYEV is about to go away.] Alexey Nikolaitch, I forgot to tell you . . .

  VERA [running in from the outer room]. Alexey Nikolaitch! Alexey Nikolaitch! [She stops abruptly at the sight of NATALYA PETROVNA.]

  NATALYA PETROVNA [with some surprise]. What is it?

  What do you want?

  VERA [blushing and dropping her eyes, indicates BELIAYEV].

  He is wanted.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. By whom?

  VERA. Kolya . . . that is Kolya asked me . . . about the kite. . ..

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Oh! [Aside to VERA.] On n’entre pas comme cela dans une chambre. . . . Cela ne convient pas. [Turning to SHPIGELSKY.] What time is it, Doctor? Your watch is always right. . . . It’s time for dinner.

  SHPIGELSKY. Allow me. [Takes out his watch.] It is just... I beg to inform you . . . just exactly twenty minutes past four.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. There, you see, it’s dinner - time. [Goes to the looking - glass and tidies her hair. Meanwhile VERA whispers something to BELIAYEV. Both laugh. NATALYA PETROVNA sees them reflected in the looking - glass. SHPIGELSKY gives her a sidelong look.]

  BELIAYEV [laughing, in a low voice]. Really?

  VERA [nodding and speaking in a low voice too]. Yes, yes, she just went flop.

  NATALYA PETROVNA [turning with assumed indifference to VERA]. What? Who went flop?

  VERA [in confusion]. Oh no ... Alexey Nikolaitch made us a swing, and so nurse took it into her head . . .

  NATALYA PETROVNA [without waiting for her to finish, turns to SHPIGELSKY]. Oh, by the way, Shpigelsky, come here. . . . [She draws him aside and speaks again to VERA.] She wasn’t hurt, I hope?

  VERA. Oh, no!

  NATALYA PETROVNA. But ... all the same, Alexey Nikolaitch, you shouldn’t have done it.

  MATVEY [enters from the outer room and announces]. Dinner is served.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Ah! But where is Arkady Sergey - itch? They’ll be late again, he and Mihail Alexandritch.

  MATVEY. The gentlemen are in the dining - room.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. And mother?

  MATVEY. Madam is in the dining - room too.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Well, then, come along. [Motioning to BELIAYEV.] Vera, allez en avant avec monsieur.

>   [MATVEY goes out, followed by VERA and BELIAYEV. SHPIGELSKY [to NATALYA PETROVNA]

  You had something to say to me.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Oh yes! To be sure. ... You see ... we’ll have another talk about. ... your proposal. SHPIGELSKY. Concerning . . . Vera Alexandrovna? NATALYA PETROVNA. Yes . . .I will think about it.

  I’ll think about it. [Both go out.]

  ACT II

  The garden. Seats to Right and to Left under trees; in the foreground raspberry bushes. KATYA and MATVEY come in on Right. KATYA has a basket in her hand.

  MATVEY. So how is it to be, Katerina Vassilyevna? Kindly explain yourself, I beg you earnestly.

  KATYA. Matvey Yegoritch, I really can’t.

  MATVEY. You are very well aware, Katerina Vassilyevna, what my feelings, I may say, are for you. To be sure, I’m older than you in years, there’s no denying that, certainly; but I can still hold my own, I’m still in my prime. I’m of mild disposition, as you are aware; I should like to know what more you want?

  KATYA. Matvey Yegoritch, believe me, I feel it very much, I’m very grateful, Matvey Yegoritch. . . . But you see ... Better wait a bit, I think.

  MATVEY. But, dear me, what is there to wait for, Katerina Vassilyevna? You used not to say that, allow me to tell you. And as for consideration, I can answer for that, I believe I may say - - - - - - You couldn’t ask for more consideration than you will get from me, Katerina Vassilyevna. And I’m not given to drink, and I never hear a word of blame from the master and mistress either.

  KATYA. Really, Matvey Yegoritch, I don’t know what to say. . . .

  MATVEY. Ah, Katerina Vassilyeina, something’s come over you lately. . . .

  KATYA [blushing a little]. Lately? Why lately?

  MATVEY. I don’t know . . . but there was a time when you didn’t treat me like this.

  KATYA [glancing hurriedly behind the scene]. Mind.... The German’s coming.

  MATVEY [with annoyance]. Bother him, the long - nosed crane! ... I must talk to you again. [He goes out to Right. KATYA is moving towards the raspberries. Enter SCHAAF from the Left with a fishing - rod on his shoulder.]

  SCHAAF [calling after KATYA]. Vere you go, vere you go,

  Katerin?

  KATYA [stopping]. We’ve been told to pick raspberries, Adam Ivanitch.

  SCHAAF. Raspberries? . . . The raspberry is a pleasant fruit. You love raspberries?

  KATYA. Yes, I like them.

  SCHAAF. He ... he! And I do too! I love all that you love. [Seeing that she is going.] Oh, Katerin, vait a leetle.

  KATYA. I’ve no time to spare. The housekeeper will scold me.

  SCHAAF. Oh! That’s nothing. You see I’m going . . . [Points to the rod] how do you say ... to feesh, you understand, to feesh, that is, to catch feesh. You love feesh?

  KATYA. Yes.

  SCHAAF. He, he, I do too, I do too. Do you know vhat I vill tell you, Katerin. There’s a song in German: [Sings] Katrinchen, Katrinchen, wie lieb ich dich so sehr! that is, in Russian, O Katrinushka, Katrinushka, you are so pretty I love you! [Tries to put one arm round her.]

  KATYA. Give over, give over, for shame. . . . Here’s the mistress coming! [Escapes into the raspberry patch.]

  SCHAAF [assuming a glum expression, aside]. Das ist dumm. . . .

  [Enter on Right NATALYA PETROVNA, arm in arm with RAKITIN.]

  NATALYA PETROVNA [to SCHAAF]. Ah! Adam Ivanitch! Are you going fishing? SCHAAF. Yes, madam. NATALYA PETROVNA. Where’s Kolya?

  SCHAAF. With Lizaveta Bogdanovna . . . the music lesson.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Ah! [Looking round.] You are alone here?

  SCHAAF. Yes.

  NATALYA PETROVNA. You haven’t seen Alexey Nikolai then?

  SCHAAF. No, madam.

  NATALYA PETROVNA [after a pause]. We’ll go with you, Adam Ivanitch, shall we? We’ll look on while you fish.

  SCHAAF. I am very glad.

  RAKITIN [aside to NATALYA PETROVNA]. What possesses you?

  NATALYA PETROVNA. Come along, come along, beau ténébreux.

  [All three go out on Right.]

  KATYA [cautiously raising her head above the raspberries]. They’ve gone. . . . [Comes out, stops for a little and ponders.] That German! . . . [Sighs and begins picking raspberrits again, singing in a low voice.]

  ‘No fire is burning, no ember is glowing, But the wild heart is glowing, is burning.’

  Yes, Matvey Yegoritch is right! [Goes on singing.]

  ‘But the wild heart is glowing, is burning, Not for father dear, not for mother dear. . . .’

  What big raspberries! . . . [Goes on singing.]

  ‘Not for father dear, not for mother dear.’ How hot it is! Stifling. . . . [Goes on singing.]

  ‘Not for father dear, not for mother dear, It glows and it burns for. . . .’

  [Suddenly turns round; is quiet and half hides behind the bushes. From Left BELIAYEV and VERA come in; BELIAYEV has a kite in his hand.]

  BELIAYEV [as he passes the raspberries, to KATYA]. Why have you stopped, Katya? [Sings.]

  ‘It glows and it burns for a maiden so fair.’

  KATYA [blushing]. That’s not how we sing it.

  BELIAYEV. How then? [KATYA laughs and does not answer.’] What are you doing? Picking raspberries? Let

  us taste them.

  KATYA [giving him the basket]. Take them all.

  BELIAYEV. Why all? . . . Vera Alexandrovna, won’t you have some? [VERA takes some from the basket, and he does so too.] Well, that’s enough. [Is giving back the basket

  to KATYA.]

  KATYA [putting back his hand]. Take them, take them

  all.

  BELIAYEV. No, thanks, Katya. [Gives her the basket.] Thank you. [To VERA.] Vera Alexandrovna, let’s sit down on this seat. You see [Showing the kite] we must fasten the tail on. You’ll help me. [They go and sit down on the seat. BELIAYEV puts the kite in her hands.] That’s it. Mind now, hold it straight. [Begins to tie on the tail.] What’s the matter?

  VERA. I can’t see you. BELIAYEV. Why must you see me? VERA. I mean I want to see how you fix the tail on. BELIAYEV. Oh - - wait a minute. [Arranges the kite so that she can see him.] Katya, why aren’t you singing? Sing. [After a brief interval KATYA begins singing in a low voice.] VERA. Tell me, Alexey Nikolaitch, do you sometimes fly kites in Moscow too?

  BELIAYEV. I’ve no time for kites in Moscow! Hold the string, that’s right. Do you suppose we’ve nothing else to do in Moscow?

  VERA. What do you do in Moscow?

  BELIAYEV. What do we do? We study, listen to the professors.

  VERA. What do they teach you?

  BELIAYEV. Everything.

  VERA. I expect you’re a very good student. Better than all the rest.

  BELIAYEV. No, I’m not very good. Better than all the rest, indeed! I’m lazy.

  VERA. Why are you lazy?

  BELIAYEV. Goodness knows! I was born so, apparently.

  VERA [after a pause]. Have you any friends in Moscow?

  BELIAYEV. Of course. ... I say, this string isn’t strong enough.

  VERA. And are you fond of them?

  BELIAYEV. I should think so. Aren’t you fond of your friends?

  VERA. I haven’t any.

  BELIAYEV. I meant the girls you know.

  VERA [slowly]. Yes.

  BELIAYEV. I suppose you have some girl - friends?

  VERA. Yes . . . only I don’t know why ... for some time past I’ve not thought much about them. ... I haven’t even answered Lisa Moshnin, though she begged me to in her letter.

  BELIAYEV. How can you say you have no friends . . . what am I?

  VERA [with a smile]. Oh, you ... that’s a different thing. [After a pause], Alexey Nikolaitch.

  BELIAYEV. Well?

  VERA. Do you write poetry?

  BELIAYEV. No. . . . Why?

  VERA. Oh, nothing. [After a pause] A girl in our school used to write poetry.

  BELIAYEV [pulling the knot with his teeth]. Did she? Was it good?

/>   VERA. I don’t know. She used to read it to us, and we cried.

 

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