A Month in the Country

BELIAYEV. What's the matter?

VERA [in a low voice]. There's Natalya Petrovna coming this way.

BELIAYEV [also in a low voice]. Where? VERA [nodding towards the Right]. Over there . . . along the path, with Mihail Alexandritch.

BELIAYEV [getting up]. Let's go to Kolya.... He must have finished his lesson by now.

VERA. Let's go ... or I'm afraid she'll scold me. . . . [They get up and walk away quickly to the Left. KATYA hides again in the raspberry bushes. NATALYA PETROVNA and RAKITIN come in on Right.] NATALYA PETROVNA [standing still]. I believe that's Mr. Beliayev with Vera. RAKITIN. Yes, it is. ...

NATALYA PETROVNA. It looks as though they were running away from us.

RAKITIN. Perhaps they are.

NATALYA PETROVNA [after a pause]. But I don't think Verotchka ought... to be alone like this with a young man in the garden. . . . Of course, she's only a child, still, it's not the proper thing. . . . I'll tell her.

RAKITIN. How old is she?

NATALYA PETROVNA. Seventeen! She's actually seventeen. ... It is hot to-day. I'm tired. Let's sit down. [They sit down on the seat on which VERA and BELIAYEV have been sitting.] Has Shpigelsky gone home?

RAKITIN. Yes, he's gone.

NATALYA PETROVNA. It's a pity you didn't keep him. I can't imagine what induced that man to become a district doctor. . . . He's very amusing. He makes me laugh.

RAKITIN. Well, I thought you were not in a very laughing humour to-day.

NATALYA PETROVNA. What made you think that?

RAKITIN. Oh, I don't know.

NATALYA PETROVNA. Because nothing sentimental appeals to me to-day? Oh, certainly, I must warn you there's absolutely nothing that could touch me to-day. . . . But that doesn't prevent me from laughing; on the contrary. Besides, there's something I had to discuss with Shpigelsky to-day.

RAKITIN. May I ask what?

NATALYA PETROVNA. No, you mayn't. As it is, you know everything I think, everything I do. That's boring.

RAKITIN. I beg your pardon. ... I had no idea. . . .

NATALYA PETROVNA. I want to have some secrets from you.

RAKITIN. What next! From what you say, one might suppose I know everything. . . .

NATALYA PETROVNA [interrupting]. And don't you?

RAKITIN. You are pleased to make fun of me.

NATALYA PETROVNA. Why don't you know everything that goes on in me? If you don't I can't congratulate you on your insight. When a man watches me from morning to night. . . .

RAKITIN. What do you mean? Is that a reproach. . . .

NATALYA PETROVNA. A reproach? [A pause.] No, I see; you certainly have not much insight.

RAKITIN. Perhaps not . . . but since I watch you from morning to night, allow me to tell you one thing I have noticed. . . .

NATALYA PETROVNA. About me? Please do.

RAKITIN. You won't be angry with me?

NATALYA PETROVNA. Oh no! I should like to be, but I shan't.

RAKITIN. For some time past, Natalya Petrovna, you have been in a state of permanent irritability, and that irritability is something unconscious, involuntary: you seem to be in a state of inward conflict, as though you were perplexed. I had never observed anything of the sort in you before my visit to the Krinitsyns'; it has only come on lately. [NATALYA PETROVNA draws lines in the sand before her with her parasol.] At times you sigh--such deep, deep sighs --like a man who's very tired, so tired that he can't find rest.

NATALYA PETROVNA. And what do you deduce from that, you observant person?

RAKITIN. I deduce? Nothing.. .. But it worries me.

NATALYA PETROVNA. Humbly grateful for your sympathy.

RAKITIN. And besides . . .

NATALYA PETROVNA [with some impatience]. Please, change the subject.

[A pause.]

RAKITIN. You have no plans for going out anywhere to-day?

NATALYA PETROVNA. No. RAKITIN. Why not? It's so fine.

NATALYA PETROVNA. Too lazy. [A pause.] Tell me . . . you know Bolshintsov, of course?

RAKITIN. Our neighbour, Afanasy Ivanitch?

NATALYA PETROVNA. Yes.

RAKITIN. What a question! Only the day before yesterday we were playing preference with him in your house.

NATALYA PETROVNA. I want to know what sort of man he is.

RAKITIN. Bolshintsov?

NATALYA PETROVNA. Yes, yes, Bolshintsov.

RAKITIN. Well, I must say, that I never expected that!

NATALYA PETROVNA [impatiently]. What didn't you expect?

RAKITIN. That you would ever be making inquiries about Bolshintsov! A foolish, fat, tedious man--though of course there's no harm in the man.

NATALYA PETROVNA. He's by no means so foolish or tedious as you think.

RAKITIN. Perhaps not. I must own, I haven't studied the gentleman very carefully.

NATALYA PETROVNA [ironically]. You haven't been watching him.

RAKITIN [with a constrained smile]. And what has induced you? . . .

NATALYA PETROVNA. Oh, nothing!

[Again a pause.]

RAKITIN. Look, Natalya Petrovna, how lovely that dark green oak is against the dark blue sky. It's all bathed in the sunlight and what rich colours. . . . What inexhaustible life and strength in it especially when you compare it with that young birch tree. . . . She looks as though she might pass away in radiance, her tiny leaves gleam with a liquid brilliance, as though melting, yet she is lovely too. . . .

NATALYA PETROVNA. Do you know, Rakitin, I noticed it ages ago. You have a very delicate feeling for the so-called beauties of nature, and talk very elegantly and cleverly about them ... so elegantly and cleverly that I imagine nature ought to be unutterably grateful for your choice and happy phrases; you dance attendance on her like a perfumed marquis on high red heels dallying with a pretty peasant girl. . . . Only I'll tell you what's wrong, it sometimes seems to me that she could never understand or appreciate your subtle observations, just as the peasant girl wouldn't understand the courtly compliments of the marquis; nature is far simpler, even coarser, than you suppose, because, thank God, she's healthy. . . . Birch trees don't melt or fall into swoons like nervous ladies.

RAKITIN. Quelle tirade! Nature is healthy . . . that is, in other words, I'm a sickly creature.

NATALYA PETROVNA. You're not the only sickly creature, we are neither of us too healthy.

RAKITIN. Oh, I know that way of telling a person the most unpleasant things in the most inoffensive way. . . . Instead of telling him to his face, for instance, you're a fool, my friend, you need only tell him with a good-natured smile, we are both fools, you know.

NATALYA PETROVNA. You're offended? What nonsense! I only meant to say that we are both . . . since you don't like the word sickly .. . we are both old, very old.

RAKITIN. In what way are we old? I don't think so of myself.

NATALYA PETROVNA. Well, listen; here we are sitting ... on this very seat a quarter of an hour ago two