Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)

by Ivan Turgenev

Stupendyev. Ah! your Excellency, please ...

  Count [giving his arm to Darya Ivanovna, says to Stupendyev]. You permit me?

  Stupendyev. Please, your Excellency. [Count and Darya Ivanovna go towards door.] I came in though, not at three, but at a quarter to ... no matter; I don’t know what it’s all about; but my wife is a great woman!

  Misha. Come along, Alexey Ivanitch.

  Darya. Count, I must beg you to make allowances for our provincial dinner.

  Count. Yes, yes. . . . Au revoir in Petersburg, my provincial lady!

  Curtain

  A POOR GENTLEMAN

  A Comedy in Two Acts (1841)

  Translated by Constance Garnett, 1899

  CONTENTS

  CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY

  ACT I

  ACT II

  CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY

  Pavel Nikola yevitch Yeletsky, aged 32, a collegiate councillor, and typical Petersburg official; frigid, formal, precise and quite intelligent; simply dressed, in good taste. A commonplace man, not ill - natured, but cold - hearted.

  Olga Petrovna, his wife, aged 21. A kind, soft - hearted creature; dreams of the great world and is afraid of it; loves her husband. Well - bred and well - dressed.

  Vassily Semyonitch Kuzovkin, a gentleman by birth, aged 50, who is living in the Yeletskys’ house at their expense. Wears a frock - coat with a stand - up collar and brass buttons.

  Flegont Alexandrovitch Tropatchov, a neighbour of the Yeletskys, aged 36. A landowner with 400 serfs, unmarried. Tall, good - looking, loud - voiced, and affected. Has served in the cavalry, and retired with the rank of lieutenant. Visits Petersburg and talks of going abroad. Coarse and even rather base in character. Wears a dark green cut - away coat, pea - green trousers, a check waistcoat, a silk cravat with a huge pin, and patent - leather top - boots. Carries a cane with a gold knob. His hair is cropped short a la malcontent.

  Ivan Kuzmitch Ivanov, another neighbour, aged 45. A silent and unassuming person, not without a certain pride of his own. A friend of Kuzovkin’s. Is easily depressed. Wears an old cinnamon - coloured coat, a yellowish waistcoat, faded from much washing, and grey trousers. Very poor.

  Karpatchov, another neighbour, about 40. A very stupid man with moustaches, and a bass voice. By way of a follower of Tropatchov’s. Not well - off. Wears a braided coat and full trousers.

  Nartsyss Konstantinitch Trembinsky, butler and maitre d’hStel of the Yeletskys. Cunning, clamorous, fussy. Fundamentally a brute. Well - dressed, as befitting the butler in a wealthy household. Speaks correctly, but with a White Russian accent.

  Yegor Kartashov, the bailiff, aged 60. A fat, drowsy man. Steals where he can. Dressed in a dark blue coat with long skirts.

  Praskovya Ivanovna, the housekeeper, aged 50. A callous, ill - natured and ill - humoured woman. Wears a kerchief and a dark dress.

  Masha, a maid, aged 20. A fresh - looking girl.

  Anpadist, the tailor, aged 70. A decrepit, worn - out serf, with legs bowed with age, sinking into dotage.

  Pyotr, the footman, aged 25. A sturdy young fellow. Fond of fun and joking.

  Vaska, the page, aged 14.

  A POOR GENTLEMAN

  ACT I

  The large dining - room in the house of a wealthy landowner; on Right, two windows and a door into the garden; on Left, a door into the drawing - room; in Centre, door into the hall. Between the windows, a folding table with a draught - board on it. In the foreground on the Left, two arm - chairs and another table. Between the doors into drawing - room and hall there is a door into the corridor.

  Trembinsky [behind the scenes]. What a muddle! I find everything here at sixes and sevens! There’s no excuse for it! [Enters accompanied by Pyotr and Vaska.] I have express instructions from our lady! Everybody here is to obey me! [To Pyotr.] Do you understand me? Pyotr. Yes, sir.

  Trembinsky. Our lady and her spouse are arriving here to - day . . . here I’ve been sent on beforehand — and what are we all doing? Nothing! [Turns to the page.] What are you here for? You like idling about, too, do you? You like doing nothing, eh? [Takes him by the ear and pulls it.] Doing nothing for your bread and butter! That’s what suits you all! We know you! Go along! Go to your proper place! [Vaska goes out. Trembinsky sits down in an armchair.] Upon my word, I’m tired out! [Leaps up.] And why hasn’t the tailor been sent to me? Where is the tailor, pray?

  Pyotr [glancing into the hall]. The tailor’s come, sir. Trembinsky. Why doesn’t he come in? What’s he waiting for? Come here, my good man, what’s your name?

  [Anpadist comes in and stands in the doorway, his hands behind his back.]

  Trembinsky [to Pyotr]. Is this the tailor?

  Pyotr. Why, yes, sir.

  Trembinsky [to Anpadist]. How old are you, my good man?

  Anpadist. In my seventieth year, good sir.

  Trembinsky [to Pyotr]. And have you no other tailor?

  Pyotr. No, sir. There was another, but he turned out good for nothing. Owing to his stuttering.

  Trembinsky [flinging up his hands]. What a state of things! [To Anpadist.] Well, old man, have you done what was ordered?

  Anpadist. Yes, sir.

  Trembinsky. Put the collars on the liveries?

  Anpadist. I have, sir. Only there wasn’t yellow cloth enough .. . good sir.

  Trembinsky. Oh! How did you manage then?

  Anpadist. Well, sir, they gave me an old yellow petticoat out of the storeroom.

  Trembinsky [waving his hands in horror]. What next!

  . . Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. We can’t send to town for the cloth now. You can go! [Anpadist is about to go.] But mind now! Look alive! Or really I shall have to . . . There, go along. [Anpadist goes out. Trembinsky again sits down and at once jumps up.] Ah, yes! are they weeding the paths in the garden?

  Pyotr. To be sure, they are. Those who haven’t to work in the fields have been sent in from the village to do it.

  Trembinsky [stepping up to Pyotr]. And who are you?

  Pyotr [surprised]. What is it, sir?

  Trembinsky [stepping closer still]. Who are you, I ask you, who are you?

  Pyotr [still more surprised.]. I?

  Trembinsky [speaking right in Pyotr’s face]. Yes, you, you . .. who are you?

  [Pyotr, bewildered, stares at Trembinsky and is mute.]

  Trembinsky. Can’t you speak — I ask you, who are you?

  Pyotr. I’m Pyotr, sir.

  Trembinsky. No, you’re the footman — that’s what you are. The house is your job; and cleaning the lamps, that’s your job, too; but the garden’s not your business. Whether it’s those in the fields they’ve fetched or others — it’s nothing to do with you. That’s the bailiff’s business. I didn’t ask you; I didn’t want an answer from you. It’s your business to fetch the bailiff. That’s your job.

  Pyotr. Well, here he is, just coming in.

  [Yegor comes in from the hall.]

  Trembinsky. Ah! Yegor Alexeyitch! You’ve come in the nick of time. Tell me, please, have you seen to things in the garden? . . .

  Yegor. I have, Nartsyss Konstantinitch. Don’t you be uneasy. . . . Won’t you take some snuff?

  Trembinsky [takes snufffrom Yegor and sniffs it.] You wouldn’t believe, Yegor Alexeyitch, what a rush I’ve been in all day. I tell you honestly I didn’t expect to find such a state of things in a big place like this! Not in your department, of course, not on the land — but in the house!

  Yegor. The - ere now!

  Trembinsky. Only fancy, for instance, I ask is there a band? We must give the master and mistress a proper reception, you know. I’m told there is. Well, I say, send the musicians along. And would you believe it, all these — musicians indeed! — are employed in other jobs. One’s in the kitchen - garden, another’s the bootmaker; the bassoon looks after the cattle. Did you ever hear anything like it! And their instruments, too, are in a wretched state. It’s all I could do to manage anything. [Takes snuff again.]

  Yegor. You’ve a
troublesome task here.

  Trembinsky. Yes, I think I may say I don’t eat the bread of idleness. . . . Oh, were the musicians standing at the porch?

  Yegor. To be sure, they were. It was beginning to spot with rain — so they were all huddling into the servants’ room; they said it would wet their instruments. Well, I’ll own I turned them out. Suppose the messenger fails us and the gentry arrive all of a sudden? And they can hold their instruments under their skirts.

  Trembinsky. Quite right. And I do believe everything’s ready now.

  Yegor. Don’t you worry, Nartsyss Konstantinitch. [Glances at Pyotr.] Why are you hanging about here? Go along — to your proper place, my lad. [Pyotr goes out into the hall. Masha runs in from the corridor.] Hullo, hullo, why in such a hurry, my lady?

  Masha. Oh, Yegor Alexeyitch, let me alone! Pras - kovya Ivanovna is worrying me to death as it is! [Runs into hall.]

  Yegor [looks after her, then turns to Trembinsky and winks. Trembinsky smirks]. Allow me to ask, Nartsyss Konstantinitch, what time is it?

  Trembinsky [looking at his watch]. A quarter to eleven. They may be here any moment now.

  [Kuzovkin appears in the doorway, stops, makes signs to somebody behind him in the hall, comes in cautiously, and is making his way to the table by the window.J

  Yegor. I’ll run round to the counting - house. I’ll be bound, the foreman hasn’t combed his beard, and he’ll be shoving forward to be kissed, too, I dare say. . . . [As he goes out, stumbles against Kuzovkin.]

  Kuzovkin. Good morning, Yegor Alexeyitch.

  Yegor [with some annoyance]. Oh, Vassily Semyonitch! I’ve not time for you. [Goes out into the hall. Kuzovkin continues on his way to the window.]

  Trembinsky [looks round and notices Kuzovkin. Aside], Oh! that fellow! [Kuzovkin bows to Trembinsky. The latter nods casually and speaks over his shoulder to him.] Hullo! So you’re coming in here? You’re getting ready to welcome our young master and mistress, too ... eh?

  Kuzovkin. To be sure.

  Trembinsky. Well — and are you pleased? [Without waiting for an answer.] Changed into your best, have you?

  Kuzovkin. Yes ... that is ...

  Trembinsky. All right... all right. . . . You can sit here in the corner. [Kuzovkin bows.J Oh, dear ... I was forgetting! Pyotr! . . . Pyotr! . . . Petrushka! . . . What’s the meaning of it? Is there nobody in the hall?

  Ivanov [poking his head in from the hall]. What is it?

  Trembinsky [somewhat taken aback]. But excuse me . . . how did you? . . .

  Ivanov [advancing no further]. Ivanov, Ivan Kuzmitch ... a friend of this gentleman’s. . . . [Points to Kuzovkin.]

  Kuzovkin [to Trembinsky]. A neighbour . . . from near by ... he has come to see me.

  Trembinsky [speaking impressively and shaking his head]. Ech, it’s not the right moment... nor the right place, gentlemen. [Pyotr comes out of the hall, brushing past Ivanov, who disappears.] Where have you been? Follow me. . . . I want to see what you’ve been up to in the study. ... I expect you’ve not done as I told you.... There’s no relying on you fellows!

  [Both go out into the drawing - room Kuzovkin is left alone.]

  Kuzovkin [after a brief silence], Vanya! . . . Vanya!

  Ivanov [from the hall, not showing himself]. Well?

  Kuzovkin. Come in, Vanya, it’s all right.

  Ivanov [coming in slowly]. I’d better be going.

  Kuzovkin. No, do stay. What does it matter? You’ve come to see me. Come over here. There, sit down. This is my corner, you know.

  Ivanov. We’d better go up to your room.

  Kuzovkin. We can’t go to my room just now. They are sorting the linen there. . . . They’ve taken a lot of feather - beds in, too. . . . And what’s wrong here?

  Ivanov. I’d rather go home.

  Kuzovkin. No, Vanya, do stay. You sit here ... sit you down. And I’ll sit down. [He sits down.] Our people will be here soon, you know. You must have a look at them.

  Ivanov. What is there to look at?

  Kuzovkin. How can you! Olga Petrovna has been married in Petersburg. What is her good husband like? Besides, we haven’t seen her for ever so long. More than six years. Sit down.

  Ivanov. But, dear me, Vassily Semyonitch. . . .

  Kuzovkin. Sit down, sit down, I tell you. Don’t you take any notice of the new butler’s shouting. Bless the man! That’s what he’s here for.

  Ivanov. Olga Petrovna has married a rich man, I suppose? [5zV.r down.]

  Kuzovkin. I don’t know what to say about that, Vanya, but he’s something important in the government, so they say. Well, that’s just how it should be. Olga Petrovna couldn’t go on living with her aunt for ever.

  Ivanov. But what if the new master turns us out, Vassily Semyonitch?

  Kuzovkin. Why should he turn us out?

  Ivanov. You, I mean.

  Kuzovkin [with a sigh]. I know, Vanya, I know. Say what you will you’ve a place of your own after all, old man. While even my clothes are never new. They are all secondhand. The new master won’t turn me out, though. . . . Even the old master didn’t do that. . . . And wasn’t he violent at times!

  Ivanov. But you don’t know these fine Petersburg gentlemen, Vassily Semyonitch.

  Kuzovkin. Why, Ivan Kuzmitch, surely they’re not so . . . dreadful?

  Ivanov. Simply terrible, I’m told! I don’t know them either, but I’ve heard so.

  Kuzovkin [after a moment’s pause]. Well, we shall see. I rely on Olga Petrovna. She’ll take my part.

  Ivanov. Take your part! I expect she has completely forgotten you! Why, she was only a child when she went away with her aunt. What was she? Not more than fourteen. You used to play with dolls with her — what does that amount to? She’ll pass by without looking at you.

  Kuzovkin. Oh, no, Vanya.

  Ivanov. Well, you’ll see.

  Kuzovkin. Do stop, Vanya, please.

  Ivanov. Well, you will see, Vassily Semyonitch.

  Kuzovkin. Leave off, Vanya, really. . . . We’d better have a game of draughts. Shall we? [Ivanov does not speak.] We may as well do something. Come, old man, let us. [Takes the draught - board and begins setting the men.]

  Ivanov [also setting the men], A queer time for a game. I must say. The butler won’t allow it, most likely.

  Kuzovkin. We’re not in anybody’s way, are we?

  Ivanov. Well, the young people will be arriving in a minute.

  Kuzovkin. When they come — we’ll leave off. Right or left?

  Ivanov. They’ll chase us out, Vassily Semyonitch, you’ll see. Left. You to begin.

  Kuzovkin. Well, I’m going to begin like this to - day.

  Ivanov. So that’s your move. And I do this.

  Kuzovkin. I’ll go there.

  Ivanov. And I here.

  [Suddenly there is a loud shouting in the hall. The page, Vaska, runs in headlong, shouting: ‘They’re coming! They’re coming! Nartsyss Konstantinitch! They’re coming! they’re coming!’ Kuzovkin and Ivanov jump up.J

  Kuzovkin [in great excitement]. Are they coming? Are they coming?

  Vaska [shouting]. The messenger has signalled — they’re coming!

  [From the drawing - room the voice of Trembinsky is heard: ‘What is it? Are they coming?’ He runs out of the drawing - room with Pyotr.]

  Trembinsky [shouting]. The band! Musicians to their places!

  [Runs out into the hall followed by Pyotr and Vaska. Masha rushes in from the corridor.]

  Masha. Are they coming?

  Kuzovkin. Yes, yes.

  [Ivanov in acute discomfort effaces himself in the comer. Masha runs into the corridor, calling: ‘They are coming!’ A moment later Praskovya Ivanovna bursts in from the corridor and Trembinsky from the hall.]

  Praskovya Ivanovna. Are they coming?

  Trembinsky. Call the maids here, the maids!

  Praskovya Ivanovna [shouting into the corridor]. Girls! Girls!

  Yegor [running in from the hall]. Where’s the bread and salt, Nar
tsyss Konstantinitch?

  Trembinsky [shouting at the top of his voice], Pyotr! Pyotr! The bread and salt! Where’s the bread and salt? [iSV* maidservants, dressed up in their best, come out from the corridor.] Into the hall, girls, into the hall!