MARY IVaNOVNA. Yes, he is one of the terrible sacrifices caused by Nicholas"s ideas. Why need he have been ruined? I never wished it.
Enter Pianist.
MARY IVaNOVNA [to Pianist] Have you come to play?
PIANIST. Yes, I am the pianist.
MARY IVaNOVNA. Please take a seat and wait a little. Won"t you have a cup of tea?
PIANIST [goes to piano] No, thank you!
MARY IVaNOVNA. I never wished it. I liked Borya, but still he was not a suitable match for Lyuba--especially after he let himself be carried away by Nicholas Ivanovich"s ideas.
ALEXaNDRA IVaNOVNA. But still, the strength of his convictions is astonishing. See what he endures! They tell him that as long as he persists in refusing to serve, he will either remain where he is or be sent to the fortress; but his reply is always the same. And yet Lisa says he is full of joy and even merry!
MARY IVaNOVNA. Fanatic! But here comes Alexander Mikaylovich!
Enter Alexander Mikaylovich Starkovsky,[35] an elegant man in evening dress.
[35] Alexander in his Christian name, Mikaylovich (= son of Michael) is his patronymic, and Starkovsky in his surname which is seldom used in ordinary social life.
STARKoVSKY. I am afraid I have come too soon. [Kisses the hands of both ladies].
MARY IVaNOVNA. So much the better.
STARKoVSKY. And Lyubov Nikolayevna?[36] She proposed to dance a great deal so as to make up for the time she has lost, and I have undertaken to help her.
[36] Lyubov Nikolayevna (= Love daughter of Nicholas) is the courteous way of naming Lyuba. The latter is a pet name.
MARY IVaNOVNA. She is sorting favours for the cotillion.
STARKoVSKY. I will go and help her, if I may?
MARY IVaNOVNA. Certainly.
As Starkovsky is going out he meets Lyuba in evening, but not low-necked, dress carrying a cushion with stars and ribbons.
LYuBA. Ah! here you are. Good! Now you can help me. There are three more cushions in the drawing-room. Go and fetch them all.
STARKoVSKY. I fly to do so!
MARY IVaNOVNA. Now, Lyuba; friends are coming, and they will be sure to hint and ask questions. May we announce it?
LYuBA. No, Mamma, no. Why? Let them ask! Papa will not like it.
MARY IVaNOVNA. But he knows or guesses; and he will have to be told sooner or later. I think it would be better to announce it to-day. Why, _C"est le secret de la comedie_.[37]
[37] It is only a comedy secret.
LYuBA. No, no, Mamma, please don"t. It would spoil our whole evening.
No, no, you must not.
MARY IVaNOVNA. Well, as you please.
LYuBA. All right then: after the dance, just before supper.
Enter Starkovsky.
LYuBA. Well, have you got them?
MARY IVaNOVNA. I"ll go and have a look at the little ones. [Exit with Alexandra Ivanovna].
STARKoVSKY [carrying three cushions, which he steadies with his chin, and dropping things on the way] Don"t trouble, Lyubov Nikolayevna, I"ll pick them up. Well, you have prepared a lot of favours. If only I can manage to lead the dance properly! Vanya, come along.
VaNYA [bringing more favours] This is the whole lot. Lyuba, Alexander Mikaylovich and I have a bet on, which of us will win the most favours.
STARKoVSKY. It will be easy for you, for you know everybody here, and will gain them easily, while I shall have to charm the young ladies first before winning anything. It means that I am giving you a start of forty points.
VaNYA. But then you are a fiance, and I am a boy.
STARKoVSKY. Well no, I am not a fiance yet, and I am worse than a boy.
LYuBA. Vanya, please go to my room and fetch the gum and the pin-cushion from the what-not. Only for goodness" sake don"t break anything.
VaNYA. I"ll break everything! [Runs off].
STARKoVSKY [takes Lyuba"s hand] Lyuba, may I? I am so happy. [Kisses her hand] The mazurka is mine, but that is not enough. One can"t say much in a mazurka, and I must speak. May I wire to my people that I have been accepted and am happy?
LYuBA. Yes, to-night.
STARKoVSKY. One word more: how will Nicholas Ivanovich take it? Have you told him? Yes?
LYuBA. No, I haven"t; but I will. He will take it as he now takes everything that concerns the family. He will say, "Do as you think best." But he will be grieved at heart.
STARKoVSKY. Because I am not Cheremshanov? Because I am a Marechal de la n.o.blesse?
LYuBA. Yes. But I have struggled with myself and deceived myself for his sake; and it is not because I love him less that I am now doing not what he wants, but it is because I can"t lie. He himself says so. I do so want to _live_!
STARKoVSKY. And life is the only truth! Well, and what of Cheremshanov?
LYuBA [excitedly] Don"t speak of him to me! I wish to blame him, to blame him whilst he is suffering; and I know it is because I feel guilty towards him. All I know is that I feel there is a kind of love--and I think a more real love than I ever felt for him.
STARKoVSKY. Lyuba, is that true?
LYuBA. You wish me to say that I love you with that real love--but I won"t say it. I do love you with a different kind of love; but it is not the real thing either! Neither the one nor the other is the real thing--if only they could be mixed together!
STARKoVSKY. No, no, I am satisfied with mine. [Kisses her hand] Lyuba!
LYuBA [pushes him away] No, let us sort these things. They are beginning to arrive.