Why are you in such a hurry? You might as well stay.
Astrov
I can’t.
Voynitsky
Writes. “Account delivered, two roubles and seventy-five kopecks.”
Enter a Labourer.
Labourer
Mihail Lvovitch, the horses are ready.
Astrov
I heard them. Hands him the medicine-chest, the portmanteau and the portfolio. Here, take these. Mind you don’t crush the portfolio.
Labourer
Yes, sir.
Astrov
Well? Goes to say goodbye.
Sonya
When shall we see you again?
Astrov
Not before next summer, I expect. Hardly in the winter. … Of course, if anything happens, you’ll let me know, and I’ll come shakes hands. Thank you for your hospitality, for your kindness—for everything, in fact. Goes up to nurse and kisses her on the head. Goodbye, old woman.
Marina
You are not going without tea?
Astrov
I don’t want any, nurse.
Marina
Perhaps you’ll have a drop of vodka?
Astrov
Irresolutely. Perhaps.
Marina goes out.
Astrov
After a pause. My trace-horse has gone a little lame. I noticed it yesterday when Petrushka was taking it to water.
Voynitsky
You must change his shoes.
Astrov
I shall have to call in at the blacksmith’s in Rozhdestvennoye. It can’t be helped. Goes up to the map of Africa and looks at it. I suppose in that Africa there the heat must be something terrific now!
Voynitsky
Yes, most likely.
Marina
Comes back with a tray on which there is a glass of vodka and a piece of bread. There you are.
Astrov drinks the vodka.
Marina
To your good health, my dear makes a low bow. You should eat some bread with it.
Astrov
No, I like it as it is. And now, good luck to you all. To Marina. Don’t come out, nurse, there is no need.
He goes out; Sonya follows with a candle, to see him off; Marina sits in her easy chair.
Voynitsky
Writes. “February the second, Lenten oil, twenty pounds. February sixteenth, Lenten oil again, twenty pounds. Buckwheat …” A pause.
The sound of bells.
Marina
He has gone a pause.
Sonya
Comes back and puts the candle on the table. He has gone.
Voynitsky
Counts on the beads and writes down. “Total … fifteen … twenty-five …”
Sonya sits down and writes.
Marina
Yawns. Lord have mercy on us!
Telyegin comes in on tiptoe, sits by the door and softly tunes the guitar.
Voynitsky
To Sonya, passing his hand over her hair. My child, how my heart aches! Oh, if only you knew how my heart aches!
Sonya
There is nothing for it. We must go on living! A pause. We shall go on living, Uncle Vanya! We shall live through a long, long chain of days and weary evenings; we shall patiently bear the trials which fate sends us; we shall work for others, both now and in our old age, and have no rest; and when our time comes we shall die without a murmur, and there beyond the grave we shall say that we have suffered, that we have wept, that life has been bitter to us, and God will have pity on us, and you and I, uncle, dear uncle, shall see a life that is bright, lovely, beautiful. We shall rejoice and look back at these troubles of ours with tenderness, with a smile—and we shall rest. I have faith, uncle; I have fervent, passionate faith. Slips on her knees before him and lays her head on his hands; in a weary voice. We shall rest!
Telyegin softly plays on the guitar.
Sonya
We shall rest! We shall hear the angels; we shall see all Heaven lit with radiance; we shall see all earthly evil, all our sufferings, drowned in mercy which will fill the whole world, and our life will be peaceful, gentle and sweet as a caress. I have faith, I have faith wipes away his tears with her handkerchief. Poor Uncle Vanya, you are crying. Through her tears. You have had no joy in your life, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait. We shall rest puts her arms round him. We shall rest! The watchman taps.
Telyegin plays softly; Marya Vassilyevna makes notes on the margin of her pamphlet; Marina knits her stocking.
Sonya
We shall rest!
Curtain drops slowly.
Colophon
Uncle Vanya
was published in by Anton Chekhov.
It was translated from Russian in by Constance Garnett.
The cover page is adapted from Alfred Sisley,
a painting completed in by Pierre-Auguste Renoir.
The cover and title pages feature the League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in and by The League of Moveable Type.
The volunteer-driven Standard Ebooks project relies on readers like you to submit typos, corrections, and other improvements. Anyone can contribute at standardebooks.org.
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