Selected plays

it. When real life is missing, one must create an illusion. It is better than nothing.

SONYA. Our hay is all cut and rotting in these daily rains, and here you are busy creating illusions! You've given up the farm altogether. I've done all the work alone until I'm at the end of my strength -- [Frightened] Uncle! Your eyes are full of tears!

VOYNITSKY. Tears? Nonsense, there are no tears in my eyes. You looked at me then just as your dead mother used to, my darling -- [He eagerly kisses her face and hands] My sister, my dearest sister, where are you now? Ah, if you only knew, if you only knew!

SONYA. If she only knew what, Uncle?

VOYNITSKY. My heart is bursting. It's awful. No matter, though. I must go. [He goes out.]

SONYA. [Knocks at the door] Dr. Astrov! Are you awake? Please come here for a minute.

ASTROV. [Behind the door] In a moment.

He appears after a short delay. He has put on his tie and waistcoat.

ASTROV. What do you want?

SONYA. Drink as much as you want to, if you don't find it revolting, but I implore you not to let my uncle do it. It's bad for him.

ASTROV. Very well; we won't drink any more. [A pause] I'm going home at once. It's all settled. It'll be dawn by the time the horses are harnessed.

SONYA. It's still raining; wait till morning.

ASTROV. The storm's blowing over. This is only the edge of it. I must go. And please don't ask me to come and see your father any more. I tell him he has gout, and he says it is rheumatism. I tell him to lie down, and he sits up. Today he refused to see me at all.

SONYA. He has been spoilt. [She looks in the sideboard] Won't you have a bite to eat?

ASTROV. Yes, please. I believe I will.

SONYA. I love to eat at night. I'm sure we shall find something in here. They say that he has made a great many conquests in his life, and that the women have spoiled him. Here's some cheese for you.

[They stand eating by the sideboard.]

ASTROV. I haven't eaten anything today. I've just been drinking. Your father has a very difficult nature. [He takes a bottle out of the sideboard] May I? [He pours himself a glass of vodka and drinks] We're alone here, and I can speak frankly. Do you know, I couldn't stand living in this house for even a month? This atmosphere would stifle me. There's your father, entirely absorbed in his books, and his gout; there's your Uncle Vanya with his depression, your grandmother, and finally, your step-mother --

SONYA. What about her?

ASTROV. A human being should be beautiful in every way: the face, the clothes, the mind, the thoughts. Your step-mother is, of course, beautiful to look at, but don't you see? She does nothing but sleep and eat and walk and bewitch us, and that's all. She has no responsibilities, everything is done for her -- am I not right? There's no integrity in an idle life. [A pause] However, I may be judging her too severely. Like your Uncle Vanya, I'm discontented, and so we're both grumblers.

SONYA. Aren't you satisfied with life, then?

ASTROV. I like life in general, but I hate and despise it in a little Russian country village, and as far as my own personal life goes, by