THE BOOR
by: Anton Chekhov
TIME: The
present.
SCENE: A
well-furnished reception-room in MRS. POPOV'S home. MRS. POPOV is discovered in
deep mourning, sitting upon a sofa, gazing steadfastly at a photograph. LUKA is
also present.
LUKA: It isn't
right, ma'am. You're wearing yourself out! The maid and the cook have gone
looking for berries; everything that breathes is enjoying life; even the cat knows
how to be happy--slips about the courtyard and catches birds--but you hide
yourself here in the house as though you were in a cloister. Yes, truly, by
actual reckoning you haven't left this house for a whole year.
MRS. POPOV: And
I shall never leave it--why should I? My life is over. He lies in his grave,
and I have buried myself within these four walls. We are both dead.
LUKA: There you
are again! It's too awful to listen to, so it is! Nikolai Michailovitch is
dead; it was the will of the Lord, and the Lord has given him eternal peace.
You have grieved over it and that ought to be enough. Now it's time to stop.
One can't weep and wear mourning forever! My wife died a few years ago. I
grieved for her. I wept a whole month--and then it was over. Must one be
forever singing lamentations? That would be more than your husband was worth! [He
sighs.] You have forgotten all your neighbors. You don't go out and you
receive no one. We live--you'll pardon me--like the spiders, and the good light
of day we never see. All the livery is eaten by mice--as though there weren't
any more nice people in the world! But the whole neighborhood is full of
gentlefolk. The regiment is stationed in Riblov--officers--simply beautiful!
One can't see enough of them! Every Friday a ball, and military music every
day. Oh, my dear, dear ma'am, young and pretty as you are, if you'd only let
your spirits live--! Beauty can't last forever. When ten short years are over,
you'll be glad enough to go out a bit and meet the officers--and then it'll be
too late.
MRS. POPOV: [Resolutely.]
Please don't speak of these things again. You know very well that since the
death of Nikolai Michailovitch my life is absolutely nothing to me. You think I
live, but it only seems so. Do you understand? Oh, that his departed soul may
see how I love him! I know, it's no secret to you; he was often unjust to me,
cruel, and--he wasn't faithful, but I shall be faithful to the grave and prove
to him how I can love. There, in the Beyond, he'll find me the same as I
was until his death.
LUKA: What is
the use of all these words, when you'd so much rather go walking in the garden
or order Tobby or Welikan harnessed to the trap, and visit the neighbors?
MRS. POPOV: [Weeping.]
Oh!
LUKA: Madam,
dear madam, what is it? In Heaven's name!
MRS. POPOV: He
loved Tobby so! He always drove him to the Kortschagins or the Vlassovs. What a
wonderful horseman he was! How fine he looked when he pulled at the reigns with
all his might! Tobby, Tobby--give him an extra measure of oats to-day!
LUKA: Yes,
ma'am.
[A bell rings
loudly.]
MRS. POPOV: [Shudders.]
What's that? I am at home to no one.
LUKA: Yes,
ma'am.
[He goes out,
centre.]
MRS. POPOV: [Gazing
at the photograph.] You shall see, Nikolai, how I can love and forgive! My
love will die only with me--when my poor heart stops beating. [She smiles
through her tears.] And aren't you ashamed? I have been a good, true wife;
I have imprisoned myself and I shall remain true until death, and
you--you--you're not ashamed of yourself, my dear monster! You quarrelled with
me, left me alone for weeks--
[LUKA enters in
great excitement.]
LUKA: Oh,
ma'am, someone is asking for you, insists on seeing you--
MRS. POPOV: You
told him that since my husband's death I receive no one?
LUKA: I said
so, but he won't listen; he says it is a pressing matter.
MRS. POPOV: I
receive no one!
LUKA: I told
him that, but he's a wild man; he swore and pushed himself into the room; he's
in the dining-room now.
MRS. POPOV: [Excitedly.]
Good. Show him in. The impudent--!
[LUKA goes out,
centre.]
MRS. POPOV:
What a bore people are! What can they want with me? Why do they disturb my
peace? [She sighs.] Yes, it is clear I must enter a convent. [Meditatively.]
Yes, a convent.
[SMIRNOV
enters, followed by LUKA.]
SMIRNOV: [To
LUKA.] Fool, you make too much noise! You're an ass! [Discovering MRS.
POPOV--politely.] Madam, I have the honor to introduce myself: Lieutenant
in the Artillery, retired, country gentleman, Grigori Stapanovitch Smirnov! I'm
compelled to bother you about an exceedingly important matter.
MRS. POPOV: [Without
offering her hand.] What is it you wish?
SMIRNOV: Your
deceased husband, with whom I had the honor to be acquainted, left me two notes
amounting to about twelve hundred roubles. Inasmuch as I have to pay the interest
to-morrow on a loan from the Agrarian Bank, I should like to request, madam,
that you pay me the money to-day.
MRS. POPOV:
Twelve-hundred--and for what was my husband indebted to you?
SMIRNOV: He
bought oats from me.
MRS. POPOV: [With
a sigh, to LUKA.] Don't forget to give Tobby an extra measure of oats.
[LUKA goes
out.]
MRS. POPOV: [To
SMIRNOV.] If Nikolai Michailovitch is indebted to you, I shall, of course,
pay you, but I am sorry, I haven't the money to-day. To-morrow my manager will
return from the city and I shall notify him to pay you what is due you, but
until then I cannot satisfy your request. Furthermore, today is just seven
months since the death of my husband, and I am not in the mood to discuss money
matters.
SMIRNOV: And I
am in the mood to fly up the chimney with my feet in the air if I can't lay
hands on that interest to-morrow. They'll seize my estate!
MRS. POPOV: Day
after to-morrow you will receive the money.
SMIRNOV: I
don't need the money day after to-morrow; I need it to-day.
MRS. POPOV: I'm
sorry I can't pay you today.
SMIRNOV: And I
can't wait until day after to-morrow.
MRS. POPOV: But
what can I do if I haven't it?
SMIRNOV: So you
can't pay?
MRS. POPOV: I
cannot.
SMIRNOV: Hm! Is
that your last word?
MRS. POPOV: My
last.
SMIRNOV:
Absolutely?
MRS. POPOV:
Absolutely.
SMIRNOV: Thank
you. [He shrugs his shoulders.] And they expect me to stand for all
that. The toll-gatherer just now met me in the road and asked why I was always
worrying. Why, in Heaven's name, shouldn't I worry? I need money, I feel the
knife at my throat. Yesterday morning I left my house in the early dawn and
called on all my debtors. If even one of them had paid his debt! I worked the
skin off my fingers! The devil knows in what sort of Jew-inn I slept; in a room
with a barrel of brandy! And now at last I come here, seventy versts from home,
hope for a little money, and all you give me is moods! Why shouldn't I worry?
MRS. POPOV: I
thought I made it plain to you that my manager will return from town, and then
you will get your money.
SMIRNOV: I did
not come to see the manager; I came to see you. What the devil--pardon the
language--do I care for your manager?
MRS. POPOV:
Really, sir, I am not used to such language or such manners. I shan't listen to
you any further.
[She goes out,
left.]
SMIRNOV: What
can one say to that? Moods! Seven months since her husband died! Do I have to
pay the interest or not? I repeat the question, have I to pay the interest or
not? The husband is dead and all that; the manager is--the devil with
him!--travelling somewhere. Now, tell me, what am I to do? Shall I run away
from my creditors in a balloon? Or knock my head against a stone wall? If I
call on Grusdev he chooses to be "not at home," Iroschevitch has
simply hidden himself, I have quarrelled with Kurzin and came near throwing him
out of the window, Masutov is ill and this woman has--moods! Not one of them
will pay up! And all because I've spoiled them, because I'm an old whiner,
dish-rag! I'm too tender-hearted with them. But wait! I allow nobody to play
tricks with me, the devil with 'em all! I'll stay here and not budge until she
pays! Brr! How angry I am, how terribly angry I am! Every tendon is trembling
with anger, and I can hardly breathe! I'm even growing ill! [He calls out.]
Servant!
[LUKA enters.]
LUKA: What is
it you wish?
SMIRNOV: Bring
me Kvas or water! [LUKA goes out.] Well, what can we do? She hasn't it
on hand? What sort of logic is that? A fellow stands with the knife at his
throat, he needs money, he is on the point of hanging himself, and she won't
pay because she isn't in the mood to discuss money matters. Women's logic!
That's why I never liked to talk to women, and why I dislike doing it now. I
would rather sit on a powder barrel than talk with a woman. Brr!--I'm getting
cold as ice; this affair has made me so angry. I need only to see such a
romantic creature from a distance to get so angry that I have cramps in my
calves! It's enough to make one yell for help!
[Enter LUKA.]
LUKA: [Hands
him water.] Madam is ill and is not receiving.
SMIRNOV: March!
[LUKA goes out.] Ill and isn't receiving! All right, it isn't necessary.
I won't receive, either! I'll sit here and stay until you bring that money. If
you're ill a week, I'll sit here a week. If you're ill a year, I'll sit here a
year. As Heaven is my witness, I'll get the money. You don't disturb me with
your mourning--or with your dimples. We know these dimples! [He calls out
the window.] Simon, unharness! We aren't going to leave right away. I am
going to stay here. Tell them in the stable to give the horses some oats. The
left horse has twisted the bridle again. [Imitating him.] Stop! I'll
show you how. Stop! [Leaves window.] It's awful. Unbearable heat, no
money, didn't sleep last night and now--mourning-dresses with moods. My head
aches; perhaps I ought to have a drink. Ye-s, I must have a drink. [Calling.]
Servant!
LUKA: What do
you wish?
SMIRNOV:
Something to drink! [LUKA goes out. SMIRNOV sits down and looks at his
clothes.] Ugh, a fine figure! No use denying that. Dust, dirty boots,
unwashed, uncombed, straw on my vest--the lady probably took me for a highwayman.
[He yawns.] It was a little impolite to come into a reception-room with
such clothes. Oh, well, no harm done. I'm not here as a guest. I'm a creditor.
And there is no special costume for creditors.
LUKA: [Entering
with glass.] You take great liberty, sir.
SMIRNOV: [Angrily.]
What?
LUKA: I--I--I
just----
SMIRNOV: Whom
are you talking to? Keep quiet.
LUKA: [Angrily.]
Nice mess! This fellow won't leave!
[He goes out.]
SMIRNOV: Lord,
how angry I am! Angry enough to throw mud at the whole world! I even feel ill!
Servant!
[MRS. POPOV
comes in with downcast eyes.]
MRS. POPOV:
Sir, in my solitude I have become unaccustomed to the human voice and I cannot
stand the sound of loud talking. I beg you, please to cease disturbing my rest.
SMIRNOV: Pay me
my money and I'll leave.
MRS. POPOV: I
told you once, plainly, in your native tongue, that I haven't the money at
hand; wait until day after to-morrow.
SMIRNOV: And I
also had the honor of informing you in your native tongue that I need the
money, not day after to-morrow, but to-day. If you don't pay me to-day I shall
have to hang myself to-morrow.
MRS. POPOV: But
what can I do if I haven't the money?
SMIRNOV: So you
are not going to pay immediately? You're not?
MRS. POPOV: I
cannot.
SMIRNOV: Then
I'll sit here until I get the money. [He sits down.] You will pay day
after to-morrow? Excellent! Here I stay until day after to-morrow. [Jumps
up.] I ask you, do I have to pay that interest to-morrow or not? Or do you
think I'm joking?
MRS. POPOV:
Sir, I beg of you, don't scream! This is not a stable.
SMIRNOV: I'm
not talking about stables, I'm asking you whether I have to pay that interest
to-morrow or not?
MRS. POPOV: You
have no idea how to treat a lady.
SMIRNOV: Oh,
yes, I have.
MRS. POPOV: No,
you have not. You are an ill-bred, vulgar person! Respectable people don't
speak so to ladies.
SMIRNOV: How
remarkable! How do you want one to speak to you? In French, perhaps! Madame, je
vous prie! Pardon me for having disturbed you. What beautiful weather we are
having to-day! And how this mourning becomes you!
[He makes a low
bow with mock ceremony.]
MRS. POPOV: Not
at all funny! I think it vulgar!
SMIRNOV: [Imitating
her.] Not at all funny--vulgar! I don't understand how to behave in the
company of ladies. Madam, in the course of my life I have seen more women than
you have sparrows. Three times have I fought duels for women, twelve I jilted
and nine jilted me. There was a time when I played the fool, used honeyed
language, bowed and scraped. I loved, suffered, sighed to the moon, melted in
love's torments. I loved passionately, I loved to madness, loved in every key,
chattered like a magpie on emancipation, sacrificed half my fortune in the
tender passion, until now the devil knows I've had enough of it. Your obedient
servant will let you lead him around by the nose no more. Enough! Black eyes,
passionate eyes, coral lips, dimples in cheeks, moonlight whispers, soft,
modest sights--for all that, madam, I wouldn't pay a kopeck! I am not speaking
of present company, but of women in general; from the tiniest to the greatest,
they are conceited, hypocritical, chattering, odious, deceitful from top to
toe; vain, petty, cruel with a maddening logic and [he strikes his forehead]
in this respect, please excuse my frankness, but one sparrow is worth ten of
the aforementioned petticoat-philosophers. When one sees one of the romantic
creatures before him he imagines he is looking at some holy being, so wonderful
that its one breath could dissolve him in a sea of a thousand charms and delights;
but if one looks into the soul--it's nothing but a common crocodile. [He
siezes the arm-chair and breaks it in two.] But the worst of all is that
this crocodile imagines it is a masterpiece of creation, and that it has a
monopoly on all the tender passions. May the devil hang me upside down if there
is anything to love about a woman! When she is in love, all she knows is how to
complain and shed tears. If the man suffers and makes sacrifices she swings her
train about and tries to lead him by the nose. You have the misfortune to be a
woman, and naturally you know woman's nature; tell me on your honor, have you
ever in your life seen a woman who was really true and faithful? Never! Only
the old and the deformed are true and faithful. It's easier to find a cat with
horns or a white woodcock, than a faithful woman.
MRS. POPOV: But
allow me to ask, who is true and faithful in love? The man, perhaps?
SMIRNOV: Yes,
indeed! The man!
MRS. POPOV: The
man! [She laughs sarcastically.] The man true and faithful in love!
Well, that is something new! [Bitterly.] How can you make such a
statement? Men true and faithful! So long as we have gone thus far, I may as
well say that of all the men I have known, my husband was the best; I loved him
passionately with all my soul, as only a young, sensible woman may love; I gave
him my youth, my happiness, my fortune, my life. I worshipped him like a
heathen. And what happened? This best of men betrayed me in every possible way.
After his death I found his desk filled with love-letters. While he was alive
he left me alone for months--it is horrible even to think about it--he made
love to other women in my very presence, he wasted my money and made fun of my
feelings--and in spite of everything I trusted him and was true to him. And more
than that: he is dead and I am still true to him. I have buried myself within
these four walls and I shall wear this mourning to my grave.
SMIRNOV: [Laughing
disrespectfully.] Mourning! What on earth do you take me for? As if I
didn't know why you wore this black domino and why you buried yourself within
these four walls. Such a secret! So romantic! Some knight will pass the castle,
gaze up at the windows, and think to himself: "Here dwells the mysterious
Tamara who, for love of her husband, has buried herself within four
walls." Oh, I understand the art!
MRS. POPOV: [Springing
up.] What? What do you mean by saying such things to me?
SMIRNOV: You
have buried yourself alive, but meanwhile you have not forgotten to powder your
nose!
MRS. POPOV: How
dare you speak so?
SMIRNOV: Don't
scream at me, please; I'm not the manager. Allow me to call things by their
right names. I am not a woman, and I am accustomed to speak out what I think.
So please don't scream.
MRS. POPOV: I'm
not screaming. It is you who are screaming. Please leave me, I beg you.
SMIRNOV: Pay me
my money, and I'll leave.
MRS. POPOV: I
won't give you the money.
SMIRNOV: You
won't? You won't give me my money?
MRS. POPOV: I
don't care what you do. You won't get a kopeck! Leave me!
SMIRNOV: As I
haven't had the pleasure of being either your husband or your fiancé, please
don't make a scene. [He sits down.] I can't stand it.
MRS. POPOV: [Breathing
hard.] You are going to sit down?
SMIRNOV: I
already have.
MRS. POPOV:
Kindly leave the house!
SMIRNOV: Give
me the money.
MRS. POPOV: I
don't care to speak with impudent men. Leave! [Pause.] You aren't going?
SMIRNOV: No.
MRS. POPOV: No?
SMIRNOV: No.
MRS. POPOV:
Very well.
[She rings the
bell. Enter LUKA.]
MRS. POPOV:
Luka, show the gentleman out.
LUKA: [Going
to SMIRNOV.] Sir, why don't you leave when you are ordered? What do you
want?
SMIRNOV: [Jumping
up.] Whom do you think you are talking to? I'll grind you to powder.
LUKA: [Puts
his hand to his heart.] Good Lord! [He drops into a chair.] Oh, I'm
ill; I can't breathe!
MRS. POPOV:
Where is Dascha? [Calling.] Dascha! Pelageja! Dascha!
[She rings.]
LUKA: They're
all gone! I'm ill! Water!
MRS. POPOV: [To
SMIRNOV.] Leave! Get out!
SMIRNOV: Kindly
be a little more polite!
MRS. POPOV: [Striking
her fists and stamping her feet.] You are vulgar! You're a boor! A monster!
SMIRNOV: What
did you say?
MRS. POPOV: I
said you were a boor, a monster!
SMIRNOV: [Steps
toward her quickly.] Permit me to ask what right you have to insult me?
MRS. POPOV:
What of it? Do you think I am afraid of you?
SMIRNOV: And
you think that because you are a romantic creature you can insult me without
being punished? I challenge you!
LUKA: Merciful
Heaven! Water!
SMIRNOV: We'll
have a duel!
MRS. POPOV: Do
you think because you have big fists and a steer's neck I am afraid of you?
SMIRNOV: I
allow no one to insult me, and I make no exception because you are a woman, one
of the "weaker sex!"
MRS. POPOV: [Trying
to cry him down.] Boor, boor, boor!
SMIRNOV: It is
high time to do away with the old superstition that it is only the man who is
forced to give satisfaction. If there is equity at all let their be equity in
all things. There's a limit!
MRS. POPOV: You
wish to fight a duel? Very well.
SMIRNOV:
Immediately.
MRS. POPOV:
Immediately. My husband had pistols. I'll bring them. [She hurries away,
then turns.] Oh, what a pleasure it will be to put a bullet in your
impudent head. The devil take you!
[She goes out.]
SMIRNOV: I'll
shoot her down! I'm no fledgling, no sentimental young puppy. For me there is
no weaker sex!
LUKA: Oh, sir. [Falls
to his knees.] Have mercy on me, an old man, and go away. You have
frightened me to death already, and now you want to fight a duel.
SMIRNOV: [Paying
no attention.] A duel. That's equity, emancipation. That way the sexes are
made equal. I'll shoot her down as a matter of principle. What can a person say
to such a woman? [Imitating her.] "The devil take you. I'll put a
bullet in your impudent head." What can one say to that? She was angry,
her eyes blazed, she accepted the challenge. On my honor, it's the first time
in my life that I ever saw such a woman.
LUKA: Oh, sir.
Go away. Go away!
SMIRNOV: That is
a woman. I can understand her. A real woman. No shilly-shallying, but fire, powder,
and noise! It would be a pity to shoot a woman like that.
LUKA: [Weeping.]
Oh, sir, go away.
[Enter MRS.
POPOV.]
MRS. POPOV:
Here are the pistols. But before we have our duel, please show me how to shoot.
I have never had a pistol in my hand before!
LUKA: God be
merciful and have pity upon us! I'll go and get the gardener and the coachman.
Why has this horror come to us?
[He goes out.]
SMIRNOV: [Looking
at the pistols.] You see, there are different kinds. There are special
duelling pistols, with cap and ball. But these are revolvers, Smith &
Wesson, with ejectors; fine pistols! A pair like that cost at least ninety
roubles. This is the way to hold a revolver. [Aside.] Those eyes, those
eyes! A real woman!
MRS. POPOV:
Like this?
SMIRNOV: Yes,
that way. Then you pull the hammer back--so--then you aim--put your head back a
little. Just stretch your arm out, please. So--then press your finger on the
thing like that, and that is all. The chief thing is this: don't get excited,
don't hurry your aim, and take care that your hand doesn't tremble.
MRS. POPOV: It
isn't well to shoot inside; let's go into the garden.
SMIRNOV: Yes.
I'll tell you now, I am going to shoot into the air.
MRS. POPOV:
That is too much! Why?
SMIRNOV:
Because---because. That's my business.
MRS. POPOV: You
are afraid. Yes. A-h-h-h. No, no, my dear sir, no flinching! Please follow me.
I won't rest until I've made a hole in that head I hate so much. Are you
afraid?
SMIRNOV: Yes,
I'm afraid.
MRS. POPOV: You
are lying. Why won't you fight?
SMIRNOV:
Because--because--I--like you.
MRS. POPOV: [With
an angry laugh.] You like me! He dares to say he likes me! [She points
to the door.] Go.
SMIRNOV: [Laying
the revolver silently on the table, takes his hat and starts. At the door he
stops a moment, gazing at her silently, then he approaches her, hesitating.]
Listen! Are you still angry? I was mad as the devil, but please understand
me--how can I express myself? The thing is like this--such things are-- [He
raises his voice.] Now, is it my fault that you owe me money? [Grasps
the back of the chair, which breaks.] The devil know what breakable
furniture you have! I like you! Do you understand? I--I'm almost in love!
MRS. POPOV:
Leave! I hate you.
SMIRNOV: Lord!
What a woman! I never in my life met one like her. I'm lost, ruined! I've been
caught like a mouse in a trap.
MRS. POPOV: Go,
or I'll shoot.
SMIRNOV: Shoot!
You have no idea what happiness it would be to die in sight of those beautiful
eyes, to die from the revolver in this little velvet hand! I'm mad! Consider it
and decide immediately, for if I go now, we shall never see each other again.
Decide--speak--I am a noble, a respectable man, have an income of ten thousand,
can shoot a coin thrown into the air. I own some fine horses. Will you be my wife?
MRS. POPOV: [Swings
the revolver angrily.] I'll shoot!
SMIRNOV: My
mind is not clear--I can't understand. Servant--water! I have fallen in love
like any young man. [He takes her hand and she cries with pain.] I love
you! [He kneels.] I love you as I have never loved before. Twelve women
I jilted, nine jilted me, but not one of them all have I loved as I love you. I
am conquered, lost; I lie at your feet like a fool and beg for your hand. Shame
and disgrace! For five years I haven't been in love; I thanked the Lord for it,
and now I am caught, like a carriage tongue in another carriage. I beg for your
hand! Yes or no? Will you?--Good!
[He gets up and
goes quickly to the door.]
MRS. POPOV:
Wait a minute!
SMIRNOV: [Stopping.]
Well?
MRS. POPOV:
Nothing. You may go. But--wait a moment. No, go on, go on. I hate you. Or--no;
don't go. Oh, if you knew how angry I was, how angry! [She throws the
revolver on to the chair.] My finger is swollen from this thing. [She
angrily tears her handkerchief.] What are you standing there for? Get out!
SMIRNOV:
Farewell!
MRS. POPOV:
Yes, go. [Cries out.] Why are you going? Wait--no, go!! Oh, how angry I
am! Don't come too near, don't come too near--er--come--no nearer.
SMIRNOV: [Approaching
her.] How angry I am with myself! Fall in love like a schoolboy, throw
myself on my knees. I've got a chill! [Strongly.] I love you. This is
fine--all I needed was to fall in love. To-morrow I have to pay my interest,
the hay harvest has begun, and then you appear! [He takes her in his arms.]
I can never forgive myself.
MRS. POPOV: Go
away! Take your hands off me! I hate you--you--this is--
[A long kiss.
Enter LUKA with an axe, the gardener with a rake, the coachman with a
pitchfork, and workmen with poles.]
LUKA: [Staring
at the pair.] Merciful heavens!
[A long pause.]
MRS. POPOV: [Dropping
her eyes.] Tell them in the stable that Tobby isn't to have any oats.
WAKTU : Masa kini .
SCENE : A dilengkapi penerimaan kamar di MRS . Rumah Popov
'S . MRS . Popov ditemukan di berkabung yang mendalam , duduk di atas sofa ,
menatap teguh pada sebuah foto . LUKA juga hadir .
LUKA : Itu tidak benar , Bu . Kau mengenakan diri keluar !
Para pelayan dan juru masak telah pergi mencari buah , apa pun yang bernafas
menikmati hidup , bahkan kucing tahu bagaimana menjadi bahagia - slip tentang
halaman dan menangkap burung - tapi Anda menyembunyikan diri di sini di rumah
seolah-olah Anda berada di biara . Ya , benar-benar , dengan perhitungan yang
sebenarnya Anda tidak meninggalkan rumah ini selama satu tahun .
MRS . Popov : Dan aku tidak akan meninggalkannya - mengapa
harus saya? Hidup saya sudah berakhir . Ia terletak di dalam kuburnya , dan
saya telah membenamkan diri dalam empat dinding. Kami berdua mati .
LUKA : Ada kamu lagi ! Ini terlalu mengerikan untuk mendengarkan
, sehingga ! Nikolai Michailovitch sudah mati, itu adalah kehendak Tuhan , dan
Tuhan telah memberinya kedamaian abadi . Anda telah menyesali hal itu dan itu
seharusnya cukup . Sekarang saatnya untuk berhenti . Seseorang tidak dapat
menangis dan berkabung memakai selamanya ! Istri saya meninggal beberapa tahun
yang lalu . Aku berduka untuknya . Aku menangis satu bulan - dan kemudian itu
berakhir. Harus satu selamanya ratapan bernyanyi ? Itu akan lebih dari suami
Anda layak ! [ Dia mendesah . ] Anda telah melupakan semua tetangga Anda . Anda
tidak pergi keluar dan Anda tidak menerima satu. Kita hidup - Anda akan maafkan
saya - seperti laba-laba , dan cahaya yang baik dari hari kita tidak pernah
melihat . Semua livery yang dimakan oleh tikus - seolah-olah tidak ada apapun
lebih banyak orang baik di dunia ini ! Tapi seluruh lingkungan penuh ningrat .
Resimen ditempatkan di Riblov - petugas - hanya indah ! Seseorang tidak bisa
melihat cukup dari mereka ! Setiap Jumat bola , dan musik militer setiap hari .
Oh , sayang , sayang Bu , muda dan cantik seperti Anda , jika Anda hanya akan
membiarkan semangat Anda hidup - ! Kecantikan tidak bisa bertahan selamanya .
Ketika sepuluh tahun lebih pendek , Anda akan cukup senang untuk pergi keluar
sedikit dan bertemu petugas - dan kemudian itu akan terlambat .
MRS . Popov : [ Tegas . ] Tolong jangan berbicara tentang
hal-hal ini lagi. Anda tahu betul bahwa sejak kematian Nikolai Michailovitch
hidup saya benar-benar apa-apa bagiku . Kau pikir aku hidup , tetapi hanya
tampaknya begitu . Apakah Anda mengerti? Oh , bahwa jiwa meninggal nya dapat
melihat bagaimana aku mencintainya ! Aku tahu , bukan rahasia kepada Anda, ia
sering tidak adil bagi saya , kejam , dan - dia tidak setia , tapi aku akan
setia ke kubur dan membuktikan kepadanya bagaimana aku bisa mencintai . Di
sana, di luar , dia akan menemukan saya sama seperti aku sampai kematiannya .
LUKA : Apa gunanya dari semua kata-kata , ketika kau
begitu banyak suka pergi berjalan-jalan di taman atau perintah Tobby atau
Welikan dimanfaatkan untuk perangkap , dan mengunjungi tetangga ?
MRS . Popov : [ Menangis . ] Oh !
LUKA : Madam, Madam sayang , apa itu ? Dalam nama Surga !
MRS . Popov : Dia mencintai Tobby begitu! Dia selalu
mengantarnya ke Kortschagins atau Vlassovs . Apa penunggang kuda yang indah dia
! Bagaimana ia tampak baik-baik saja ketika ia menarik di pemerintahan dengan
sekuat ! Tobby , Tobby - memberinya ukuran ekstra gandum -hari !
LUKA : Ya, Bu .
[A bel berbunyi keras . ]
MRS . Popov : [ bergetar . ] Apa itu? Saya di rumah kepada
siapa pun .
LUKA : Ya, Bu .
[ Dia pergi keluar , pusat . ]
MRS . Popov : [ Menatap foto itu . ] Anda akan melihat ,
Nikolai , bagaimana saya bisa mengasihi dan mengampuni ! Cintaku akan mati
hanya dengan saya - ketika jantung saya miskin berhenti berdetak . [ Dia
tersenyum melalui air matanya . ] Dan apakah kamu tidak malu ? Saya telah baik
, istri benar, saya telah memenjarakan diri saya dan saya akan tetap benar
sampai mati, dan Anda - Anda - Anda tidak malu pada dirimu sendiri , Sayang rakasa
saya! Anda bertengkar dengan saya , meninggalkan aku sendirian selama
berminggu-minggu -
[ LUKA masuk dalam kegembiraan besar . ]
LUKA : Oh , Bu , seseorang meminta Anda , bersikeras
melihat Anda -
MRS . Popov : Anda mengatakan kepadanya bahwa sejak kematian
suami saya, saya tidak menerima satu?
LUKA : aku bilang begitu , tapi dia tidak mau mendengarkan
, ia mengatakan itu adalah masalah mendesak.
MRS . Popov : Saya tidak menerima satu!
LUKA : Saya mengatakan kepadanya bahwa , tapi dia seorang
pria liar , ia bersumpah dan mendorong dirinya ke dalam ruangan , ia ada di
ruang makan sekarang .
MRS . Popov : [ Penuh semangat . ] Bagus . Tunjukkan
padanya masuk kurang ajar - !
[ LUKA padam, pusat . ]
MRS . Popov : Apa orang bore ! Apa yang bisa mereka inginkan
dariku ? Mengapa mereka mengganggu ketenangan saya? [ Dia mendesah . ] Ya ,
jelas saya harus masuk biara . [ Merenung . ] Ya , sebuah biara .
[ Smirnov masuk , diikuti oleh LUKA . ]
Smirnov : [ . Untuk LUKA ] Mop , Anda membuat terlalu
banyak suara ! Kau keledai ! [ Menemukan MRS . . Popov - sopan ] Madam, saya
mendapat kehormatan untuk memperkenalkan diri : Letnan di Artileri , pensiunan
, negara gentleman , Grigori Stapanovitch Smirnov ! Saya dipaksa untuk
mengganggu Anda tentang suatu hal yang sangat penting .
MRS . Popov : [ . Tanpa menawarkan tangannya ] Apa yang
Anda berharap ?
Smirnov : suami almarhum Anda , dengan siapa saya mendapat
kehormatan untuk berkenalan , meninggalkan aku dua catatan sebesar sekitar
seribu dua ratus rubel . Sejauh saya harus membayar bunga untuk besok pada
pinjaman dari Bank Agraria , saya ingin meminta , Madam , bahwa Anda membayar
saya uang -hari .
MRS . Popov : Dua belas ratus - dan untuk apa suami saya
berhutang kepada Anda ?
Smirnov : Dia membeli gandum dari saya .
MRS . Popov : [ Sambil menghela napas , untuk LUKA . ]
Jangan lupa untuk memberikan Tobby ukuran ekstra gandum .
[ LUKA padam. ]
MRS . Popov : [ Untuk Smirnov . ] Jika Nikolai
Michailovitch berhutang padamu , aku akan , tentu saja , membayar Anda , tapi
saya minta maaf , saya tidak punya uang -hari . Untuk besok manajer saya akan
kembali dari kota dan saya harus memberitahu dia untuk membayar Anda apa karena
Anda , tapi sampai saat itu saya tidak bisa memenuhi permintaan Anda . Selain
itu, saat ini hanya tujuh bulan sejak kematian suami saya , dan saya tidak
dalam mood untuk membicarakan masalah uang .
Smirnov : Dan aku dalam mood untuk terbang cerobong dengan
kaki saya di udara jika saya tidak bisa meletakkan tangan pada yang menarik
untuk besok . Mereka akan merebut real saya!
MRS . Popov : Hari demi untuk besok Anda akan menerima
uang .
Smirnov : Saya tidak perlu hari setelah uang untuk besok ,
saya membutuhkannya untuk hari .
MRS . Popov : Maaf saya tidak dapat membayar Anda hari
ini.
Smirnov : Dan aku tidak bisa menunggu sampai hari setelah
untuk besok .
MRS . Popov : Tapi apa yang bisa saya lakukan jika saya
bukan?
Smirnov : Jadi Anda tidak bisa membayar ?
MRS . Popov : Saya tidak bisa.
Smirnov : Hm ! Apakah itu kata terakhir Anda ?
MRS . Popov : My terakhir.
Smirnov : Absolutely ?
MRS . Popov : Tentu saja.
Smirnov : Terima kasih . [ Dia mengangkat bahunya . ] Dan
mereka mengharapkan saya untuk berdiri untuk semua itu. Korban -pengumpul
sekarang bertemu saya di jalan dan bertanya mengapa saya selalu khawatir .
Mengapa , dalam nama Surga , seharusnya tidak saya khawatir ? Aku butuh uang ,
saya merasa pisau di leher saya . Kemarin pagi aku meninggalkan rumah saya di
waktu subuh dan meminta semua debitur saya. Bahkan jika salah satu dari mereka
telah membayar utangnya ! Saya bekerja kulit jari-jari saya ! Iblis tahu dalam
apa semacam Yahudi -inn aku tidur , di kamar dengan laras brendi ! Dan sekarang
akhirnya aku datang ke sini , versts tujuh dari rumah , berharap untuk sedikit
uang , dan semua yang anda berikan suasana hati ! Mengapa saya tidak perlu
khawatir ?
MRS . Popov : Saya pikir saya sudah menjelaskan kepada
Anda bahwa manajer saya akan kembali dari kota , dan kemudian Anda akan
mendapatkan uang Anda .
Smirnov : Aku tidak datang untuk melihat manajer , saya
datang untuk melihat Anda . Apa iblis - maaf bahasa - saya peduli untuk manajer
Anda ?
MRS . Popov : Sungguh, Pak , saya tidak terbiasa dengan
bahasa tersebut atau perilaku tersebut . Aku tidak akan mendengarkan Anda lebih
jauh .
[ Dia pergi keluar , meninggalkan . ]
Smirnov : Apa yang bisa katakan tentang itu? Moods ! Tujuh
bulan sejak suaminya meninggal ! Apakah saya harus membayar bunga atau tidak ?
Saya ulangi pertanyaan, harus saya membayar bunga atau tidak ? Suami sudah mati
dan semua itu, manajer - iblis dengan dia - bepergian di suatu tempat ! .
Sekarang , katakan padaku , apa yang harus saya lakukan? Haruskah aku lari dari
kreditur saya dalam sebuah balon ? Atau mengetuk kepala saya ke dinding batu ?
Jika saya memanggil Grusdev ia memilih untuk menjadi " tidak di rumah ,
" Iroschevitch telah cukup tersembunyi dirinya , saya bertengkar dengan
Kurzin dan datang dekat melemparkan dia keluar dari jendela , Masutov sakit dan
wanita ini memiliki - suasana hati ! Tidak salah satu dari mereka akan membayar
! Dan semua karena saya sudah dimanjakan mereka, karena aku seorang perengek
tua, piring kain ! Aku terlalu lembut hati dengan mereka . Tapi tunggu ! Aku
membiarkan ada untuk bermain trik dengan saya , setan dengan mereka semua !
Saya akan tinggal di sini dan tidak bergerak sampai dia membayar ! BRR ! Betapa
marahnya aku, betapa sangat marah saya ! Setiap tendon gemetar karena marah ,
dan saya hampir tidak bisa bernapas ! Aku bahkan tumbuh sakit ! [ Dia memanggil
. ] Hamba !
[ LUKA masuk . ]
LUKA : Apa yang Anda berharap ?
Smirnov : Bawa saya Kvas atau air ! [ LUKA padam. ] Nah ,
apa yang bisa kita lakukan? Dia belum di tangan ? Macam apa logika itu? Seorang
rekan berdiri dengan pisau di lehernya , ia membutuhkan uang , dia berada di
titik gantung diri , dan dia tidak akan membayar karena dia tidak dalam mood
untuk membicarakan masalah uang . Logika Wanita ! Itu sebabnya aku tidak pernah
menyukai untuk berbicara dengan perempuan , dan mengapa saya tidak suka
melakukannya sekarang . Saya lebih suka duduk di sebuah tong bubuk daripada
berbicara dengan seorang wanita . BRR - saya semakin dingin seperti es ; !
Urusan ini telah membuat saya begitu marah . Aku hanya perlu untuk melihat
seperti makhluk romantis dari jarak untuk mendapatkan begitu marah bahwa saya
mengalami kram di betis saya ! Ini cukup untuk membuat satu berteriak minta
tolong !
[Enter LUKA . ]
LUKA : [ Tangan dia air . ] Ibu sakit dan tidak menerima .
Smirnov : Maret! [ LUKA padam. ] Ill dan tidak menerima !
Baiklah , itu tidak perlu . Aku tidak akan menerima , baik ! Aku akan duduk di
sini dan tinggal sampai Anda membawa uang itu. Jika Anda sakit seminggu, saya
akan duduk di sini seminggu . Jika Anda sakit setahun, saya akan duduk di sini
setahun . Seperti Surga adalah saksi saya, saya akan mendapatkan uang . Anda
tidak mengganggu saya dengan berkabung Anda - atau dengan lesung Anda . Kita
tahu lesung ini! [ Dia memanggil jendela . ] Simon , unharness ! Kami tidak
akan meninggalkan segera. Saya akan tinggal di sini . Beritahu mereka di kandang
untuk memberikan kuda beberapa oat . Kuda kiri telah memutar tali kekang lagi.
[ Meniru dia. ] Stop! Aku akan menunjukkan kepada Anda bagaimana . Stop! [ Daun
jendela . ] Ini mengerikan . Panas tak tertahankan , tidak ada uang , tidak
tidur semalam dan sekarang - berkabung - gaun dengan suasana hati . Kepalaku
sakit , mungkin saya harus minum. Ye - s , saya harus minum. [ Calling . ]
Hamba !
LUKA : Apa yang Anda inginkan ?
Smirnov : Sesuatu untuk minum ! [ LUKA padam. Smirnov
duduk dan melihat pakaiannya . ] Ugh , sosok baik ! Tidak ada gunanya
menyangkal hal itu. Debu, sepatu kotor, kotor , tidak disisir , jerami di rompi
- wanita mungkin membawa saya untuk seorang penyamun . [ Dia menguap . ] Itu
sedikit tidak sopan untuk datang ke resepsi kamar dengan pakaian seperti itu.
Oh , well , tidak ada salahnya dilakukan . Aku tidak di sini sebagai tamu . Aku
kreditur . Dan tidak ada kostum khusus untuk kreditur .
LUKA : [ Memasuki dengan kaca . ] Anda mengambil kebebasan
yang besar , Pak .
Smirnov : [ berang . ] Apa?
LUKA : I - I - aku hanya ----
Smirnov : Siapa kau bicara ? Diam.
LUKA : [ berang . ] Bagus berantakan ! Orang ini tidak
akan meninggalkan !
[ Dia pergi keluar . ]
Smirnov : Tuhan , betapa marahnya saya ! Cukup marah untuk
membuang lumpur di seluruh dunia ! Aku bahkan merasa sakit ! Hamba !
[ MRS . Popov datang dengan mata tertunduk . ]
MRS . Popov : Sir , dalam kesendirian saya, saya telah
menjadi terbiasa dengan suara manusia dan saya tidak tahan suara keras
berbicara . Saya mohon, untuk berhenti mengganggu istirahat saya .
Smirnov : Membayar uang saya dan saya akan pergi.
MRS . Popov : Aku bilang sekali , jelas , dalam bahasa ibu
Anda , bahwa saya tidak punya uang di tangan , menunggu sampai hari setelah
untuk besok .
Smirnov : Dan saya juga mendapat kehormatan
menginformasikan dalam bahasa Anda bahwa saya membutuhkan uang, tidak sehari
setelah untuk besok , tapi -hari . Jika Anda tidak membayar saya untuk hari aku
harus gantung diri untuk besok .
MRS . Popov : Tapi apa yang bisa saya lakukan jika saya
tidak punya uang ?
Smirnov : Jadi Anda tidak akan membayar segera ? Anda
tidak ?
MRS . Popov : Saya tidak bisa.
Smirnov : Lalu aku akan duduk di sini sampai aku
mendapatkan uang . [ Dia duduk . ] Anda akan membayar hari setelah untuk besok
? Luar biasa ! Di sini saya tinggal sampai hari setelah untuk besok . [ Jumps
up . ] Saya bertanya, apakah saya harus membayar bunga untuk besok atau tidak ?
Atau apakah Anda pikir aku bercanda ?
MRS . Popov : Pak, saya mohon, jangan berteriak ! Ini
bukan stabil .
Smirnov : Saya tidak berbicara tentang kandang , saya
minta Anda apakah saya harus membayar bunga untuk besok atau tidak ?
MRS . Popov : Anda tidak tahu bagaimana memperlakukan
seorang wanita .
Smirnov : Oh , ya, aku punya .
MRS . Popov : Tidak, Anda belum . Anda adalah kurang ajar
, orang vulgar ! Orang terhormat tidak berbicara sehingga untuk wanita .
Smirnov : Bagaimana luar biasa ! Bagaimana Anda ingin satu
untuk berbicara kepada Anda ? Dalam bahasa Prancis , mungkin ! Madame , je vous
prie ! Maafkan saya karena telah mengganggu Anda . Apa cuaca yang indah kami
harus - hari ! Dan bagaimana berkabung ini menjadi Anda !
[ Dia membuat busur rendah dengan upacara pura-pura. ]
MRS . Popov : Sama sekali tidak lucu! Saya pikir itu
vulgar !
Smirnov : [ Meniru nya . ] Sama sekali tidak lucu - vulgar
! Saya tidak mengerti bagaimana berperilaku di perusahaan wanita . Madam, dalam
perjalanan hidup saya, saya telah melihat lebih banyak perempuan daripada yang
Anda miliki burung pipit . Tiga kali saya berjuang duel untuk wanita , dua
belas aku dicampakkan dan sembilan ditolak cintanya padaku . Ada waktu ketika
aku bermain bodoh , digunakan bahasa manis , membungkuk dan tergores . Aku
mencintai , menderita , mendesah ke bulan , meleleh di cinta siksaan . Aku
mencintai gairah , aku mencintai kegilaan , dicintai di setiap kunci ,
berceloteh seperti murai pada emansipasi , mengorbankan setengah keberuntungan
saya di gairah lembut , sampai sekarang iblis tahu aku sudah cukup itu . Hamba
yang taat akan membiarkan Anda membawanya sekitar dengan hidung lagi. Cukup!
Mata hitam , mata bergairah , bibir karang, lesung pipi , berbisik cahaya bulan
, lembut , pemandangan sederhana - untuk semua itu, Madam , saya tidak akan
membayar kopeck a ! Saya tidak berbicara tentang perusahaan ini, tetapi wanita
pada umumnya, dari terkecil sampai yang besar , mereka sombong , munafik ,
berceloteh , najis , penipu dari atas sampai ujung kaki , sia-sia, kecil ,
kejam dengan logika menjengkelkan dan [ dia menyerang dahinya ] dalam hal ini ,
mohon maaf keterusterangan saya, tapi satu sparrow bernilai sepuluh tersebut
rok - filsuf . Ketika seseorang melihat salah satu makhluk romantis sebelum dia
membayangkan ia melihat beberapa makhluk suci , begitu indah bahwa yang satu
nafas bisa melarutkan dirinya dalam lautan seribu pesona dan kesenangan ,
tetapi jika kita melihat ke dalam jiwa - itu tidak ada tapi buaya umum. [ Dia
siezes lengan - kursi dan mengelompokkannya dalam dua . ] Tetapi yang terburuk
dari semua adalah bahwa buaya ini membayangkan itu adalah karya penciptaan ,
dan bahwa ia memiliki monopoli atas semua nafsu lembut. Semoga setan
menggantung saya terbalik jika ada sesuatu untuk mencintai tentang seorang
wanita ! Ketika ia jatuh cinta , semua yang dia tahu adalah bagaimana untuk
mengeluh dan menangis . Jika seorang pria menderita dan membuat pengorbanan
yang dia mengayunkan kereta padanya tentang dan mencoba untuk menuntun dia
hidung. Anda memiliki kemalangan untuk menjadi seorang wanita , dan tentu Anda
tahu sifat wanita , ceritakan pada kehormatan Anda , apakah Anda pernah dalam
hidup Anda melihat seorang wanita yang benar-benar benar dan setia ? Tidak
pernah ! Hanya tua dan cacat adalah tepat dan benar . Lebih mudah untuk
menemukan kucing dengan tanduk atau woodcock putih , dari seorang wanita yang
setia .
MRS . Popov : Tapi izinkan saya untuk bertanya , siapa
yang benar dan setia dalam cinta? Pria itu , mungkin ?
Smirnov : Ya , memang! Pria itu !
MRS . Popov : Pria ! [ Dia tertawa sinis. ] Orang yang
benar dan setia dalam cinta! Yah, itu adalah sesuatu yang baru ! [ Pahit . ]
Bagaimana Anda bisa membuat pernyataan seperti itu ? Pria benar dan setia !
Selama kita sudah sejauh ini , saya mungkin juga mengatakan bahwa dari semua
orang yang saya kenal , suami saya adalah yang terbaik , saya mencintainya
penuh gairah dengan segenap jiwa saya , karena hanya seorang muda, wanita yang
masuk akal mungkin cinta , saya berikan dia muda saya , kebahagiaan saya ,
keberuntungan saya , hidup saya . Aku memujanya seperti kafir . Dan apa yang
terjadi ? Ini terbaik pria mengkhianati saya dalam setiap cara yang mungkin .
Setelah kematiannya saya menemukan mejanya penuh dengan cinta - surat .
Sementara ia masih hidup dia meninggalkan aku sendirian selama berbulan-bulan -
itu mengerikan bahkan untuk berpikir tentang hal itu - ia bercinta dengan
perempuan lain di hadapan saya sangat , ia menghabiskan uang saya dan
mengolok-olok perasaan saya - dan terlepas dari segala sesuatu saya
mempercayainya dan benar baginya . Dan lebih dari itu : dia sudah mati dan saya
masih setia kepada-Nya . Saya telah membenamkan diri dalam empat dinding dan
aku akan memakai berkabung ini ke kuburan .
Smirnov : [ Tertawa tidak hormat . ] Mourning ! Apa yang
kau aku ini apa? Seolah-olah saya tidak tahu mengapa Anda mengenakan domino ini
hitam dan mengapa Anda mengubur diri dalam empat dinding. Rahasia yang dimaksud
! So romantic ! Beberapa knight akan melewati benteng , memandang ke arah
jendela , dan berpikir untuk dirinya sendiri : "Di sini tinggallah Tamara
misterius yang , karena cinta suaminya , telah mengubur dirinya dalam empat
dinding . " Oh , saya mengerti seni !
MRS . Popov : [ meloncat ke atas. ] Apa? Apa yang Anda
maksud dengan mengatakan hal-hal seperti itu kepada saya ?
Smirnov : Anda telah terkubur hidup-hidup sendiri , tetapi
sementara itu Anda tidak lupa untuk bubuk hidung Anda !
MRS . Popov : Beraninya kau bicara begitu ?
Smirnov : Jangan berteriak pada saya, silakan , saya tidak
manajer . Izinkan saya untuk hal-hal dengan nama hak mereka. Saya bukan seorang
wanita , dan saya terbiasa untuk berbicara apa yang saya pikirkan . Jadi jangan
berteriak .
MRS . Popov : Aku tidak berteriak . Ini adalah Anda yang
berteriak . Silakan tinggalkan aku , aku mohon .
Smirnov : Membayar uang saya , dan saya akan pergi.
MRS . Popov : Aku tidak akan memberikan uang Anda .
Smirnov : Anda tidak akan ? Anda tidak akan memberikan
uang saya ?
MRS . Popov : Saya tidak peduli apa yang Anda lakukan .
Anda tidak akan mendapatkan kopeck sebuah ! Tinggalkan aku !
Smirnov : Seperti yang saya belum punya kesenangan yang
baik suami atau tunangan Anda , jangan membuat keributan. [ Dia duduk . ] Aku
tidak tahan .
MRS . Popov : [ . Pernapasan keras ] Anda akan duduk?
Smirnov : Saya sudah punya .
MRS . Popov : Mohon meninggalkan rumah !
Smirnov : Beri aku uang .
MRS . Popov : Saya tidak peduli untuk berbicara dengan
laki-laki kurang ajar . Tinggalkan ! [ Pause . ] Anda tidak akan ?
Smirnov : No
MRS . Popov : Tidak ada ?
Smirnov : No
MRS . Popov : Sangat baik .
[ Dia membunyikan bel . Masukkan LUKA . ]
MRS . Popov : Luka , menunjukkan pria keluar .
LUKA : [ Pergi ke Smirnov . ] Sir , kenapa tidak Anda
meninggalkan ketika Anda memesan ? Apa yang Anda inginkan?
Smirnov : [ Melompat . ] Siapa yang Anda pikir Anda ajak
bicara ? Aku akan menggiling Anda untuk bedak.
LUKA : [ Menempatkan tangannya ke hatinya . ] Ya Tuhan ! [
Dia turun ke kursi . ] Oh , aku sakit , aku tidak bisa bernapas !
MRS . Popov : Dimana Dascha ? [ Calling . ] Dascha !
Pelageja ! Dascha !
[ Dia berdering . ]
LUKA : Mereka semua telah pergi! Aku sakit ! Air !
MRS . Popov : [ Untuk Smirnov . ] Tinggalkan ! Pergi!
Smirnov : Mohon menjadi sedikit lebih sopan !
MRS . Popov : [ . Menyerang tinjunya dan stamping kakinya
] Anda vulgar ! Kau yg kurang sopan ! Rakasa A !
Smirnov : Apa katamu ?
MRS . Popov : Aku bilang kau yg kurang sopan , sebuah
rakasa !
Smirnov : [ . Langkah ke arahnya dengan cepat ] Ijinkan
saya untuk bertanya apa hak Anda harus menghina saya ?
MRS . Popov : Apa itu ? Apakah Anda pikir aku takut padamu
?
Smirnov : Dan Anda berpikir bahwa karena Anda adalah
makhluk romantis yang dapat Anda menghina saya tanpa dihukum ? Saya menantang
Anda !
LUKA : Penyayang surga ! Air !
Smirnov : Kita harus duel !
MRS . Popov : Apakah Anda pikir karena Anda memiliki tinju
besar dan leher yang mengarahkan saya takut padamu ?
Smirnov : Saya mengizinkan seorang pun untuk menghina saya
, dan saya tidak membuat pengecualian karena Anda seorang wanita , salah satu
dari " kaum hawa ! "
MRS . Popov : Boor , sopan santun , sopan santun [ Mencoba
menangis dia. ] !
Smirnov : Ini adalah waktu yang tinggi untuk melakukan
jauh dengan tahayul kuno bahwa hanya orang yang dipaksa untuk memberikan
kepuasan . Jika ada ekuitas sama sekali membiarkan ekuitas BE mereka dalam
segala hal . Ada batas !
MRS . Popov : Anda ingin berduel ? Sangat baik .
Smirnov : Segera .
MRS . Popov : Segera . Suami saya punya pistol . Aku akan
membawa mereka . [ Dia bergegas pergi , kemudian berubah . ] Oh , apa yang
menyenangkan akan menempatkan peluru di kepala kurang ajar Anda . Iblis membawa
Anda !
[ Dia pergi keluar . ]
Smirnov : Aku akan menembak dia! Aku bukan pemula , ada
anjing muda sentimental . Bagi saya tidak ada kaum hawa !
LUKA : Oh , Pak. [ Falls ke lututnya . ] Kasihanilah aku ,
orang tua , dan pergi. Anda telah takut saya mati sudah, dan sekarang Anda
ingin berduel .
Smirnov : [ Membayar ada perhatian . ] Duel A . Itu
ekuitas , emansipasi . Dengan cara itu jenis kelamin yang dibuat sama . Aku
akan menembak ke bawah sebagai masalah prinsip . Apa yang bisa orang katakan
kepada wanita seperti itu? [ Meniru dia. ] " Iblis membawa Anda . Aku akan
menaruh peluru di kepala Anda kurang ajar . " Apa yang bisa katakan
tentang itu? Dia marah , matanya menyala , ia menerima tantangan itu . Pada
kehormatan saya , itu adalah pertama kalinya dalam hidup saya bahwa saya pernah
melihat seorang wanita seperti itu .
LUKA : Oh , Pak. Pergi. Pergi !
Smirnov : Itulah seorang wanita . Saya bisa memahaminya .
Seorang wanita sejati . Tidak sungkan mengakui , namun api , bubuk, dan
kebisingan ! Ini akan sangat sayang untuk menembak seorang wanita seperti itu .
LUKA : [ Menangis . ] Oh , Pak , pergi.
[Enter MRS . Popov . ]
MRS . Popov : Berikut adalah pistol . Tapi sebelum kita
memiliki duel kami , tolong tunjukkan saya cara menembak . Aku tidak pernah
memiliki pistol di tangan saya sebelum !
LUKA : Ya Allah, kasihanilah dan kasihanilah kami! Aku
akan pergi dan mendapatkan tukang kebun dan kusir . Mengapa horor ini datang
kepada kita ?
[ Dia pergi keluar . ]
Smirnov : [ . Melihat pistol ] Anda lihat, ada berbagai
jenis . Ada pistol duel khusus, dengan topi dan bola . Tapi ini adalah revolver
, Smith & Wesson , dengan ejector , pistol baik ! Sepasang seperti itu
biaya setidaknya sembilan puluh rubel . Ini adalah cara untuk memegang pistol .
[ Selain . ] Mata itu , mata itu ! Seorang wanita sejati !
MRS . Popov : Seperti ini ?
Smirnov : Ya , seperti itu. Kemudian Anda tarik palu
kembali - jadi - maka Anda bertujuan - meletakkan kepala Anda kembali sedikit .
Hanya meregangkan lengan Anda keluar, silakan . Jadi - kemudian tekan jari Anda
pada hal seperti itu , dan itu semua . Yang utama adalah: tidak mendapatkan
bersemangat , jangan terburu-buru tujuan Anda , dan berhati-hati bahwa tangan
Anda tidak gemetar .
MRS . Popov : Hal ini tidak baik untuk menembak di dalam ,
mari kita pergi ke kebun .
Smirnov : Ya . Aku akan memberitahu Anda sekarang , saya
akan menembak ke udara .
MRS . Popov : Itu terlalu banyak ! Kenapa?
Smirnov : Karena --- karena . Itulah bisnis saya .
MRS . Popov : Anda takut . Ya. A- h- h- h. Tidak, tidak ,
saya Tuan, tidak berkedip ! Silakan ikuti saya . Aku tidak akan beristirahat
sampai aku sudah membuat lubang di kepala yang aku benci begitu banyak. Apakah
Anda takut ?
Smirnov : Ya , aku takut .
MRS . Popov : Anda berbohong . Mengapa kau tidak mau
berperang ?
Smirnov : Karena - karena - I - seperti Anda .
MRS . Popov : [ Dengan tertawa marah . ] Anda seperti saya
! Dia berani mengatakan dia menyukaiku ! [ Dia menunjuk ke pintu . ] Go .
Smirnov : [ Pemasangan revolver diam-diam di atas meja ,
mengambil topinya dan mulai . Di pintu ia berhenti sejenak , menatap dalam diam
, lalu ia mendekatinya , ragu-ragu . ] Dengar ! Apakah Anda masih marah ? Aku
marah karena setan , tapi tolong mengerti saya - bagaimana saya bisa
mengekspresikan diri ? Masalahnya adalah seperti ini - hal-hal seperti - [ .
Dia mengangkat suaranya ] Sekarang , ini salahku bahwa Anda berutang uang ? [
Menggenggam bagian belakang kursi , yang istirahat . ] Iblis tahu apa furnitur
pecah yang Anda miliki ! Aku menyukaimu ! Apakah Anda mengerti? Aku - aku
hampir jatuh cinta !
MRS . Popov : Tinggalkan ! Aku benci kamu .
Smirnov : Tuhan ! Apa seorang wanita ! Saya pernah dalam
hidup saya bertemu salah satu seperti dia . Aku tersesat , hancur ! Aku sudah
tertangkap seperti tikus dalam perangkap .
MRS . Popov : Pergilah , atau aku akan menembak .
Smirnov : Tembak ! Anda tidak tahu apa kebahagiaan itu
akan mati dalam pandangan mata yang indah , untuk mati dari revolver di tangan
beludru kecil ini ! Aku marah ! Anggap saja dan memutuskan segera , karena jika
aku pergi sekarang , kita tidak akan pernah bertemu lagi . Putuskan - berbicara
- Saya seorang mulia , seorang pria terhormat , memiliki penghasilan sepuluh
ribu , bisa menembak koin dilemparkan ke udara . Saya memiliki beberapa kuda
baik . Maukah kau menjadi istriku ?
MRS . Popov : [ . Swings revolver dengan marah ] aku akan
menembak !
Smirnov : Pikiranku tidak jelas - aku tidak bisa mengerti
. Hamba - air ! Saya telah jatuh cinta seperti orang muda. [ Dia mengambil
tangannya dan dia menangis dengan rasa sakit . ] I love you ! [ Dia berlutut .
] Aku mencintaimu seperti aku tidak pernah mencintai sebelumnya. Dua belas
wanita saya ditolak cintanya , sembilan ditolak cintanya saya, tapi bukan salah
satu dari mereka semua juga Aku telah mengasihi seperti aku mencintaimu . Saya
ditaklukkan , hilang, aku berbaring di kaki Anda seperti orang bodoh dan
meminta tangan Anda . Malu dan aib ! Selama lima tahun saya belum pernah jatuh
cinta , saya berterima kasih kepada Tuhan untuk itu , dan sekarang saya
tertangkap , seperti lidah kereta di gerbong lain. Saya mohon untuk tangan Anda
! Ya atau tidak ? Maukah kau - ? Bagus !
[ Dia bangkit dan berjalan cepat ke pintu . ]
MRS . Popov : Tunggu dulu!
Smirnov : [ Menghentikan . ] Yah ?
MRS . Popov : Tidak ada. Anda mungkin pergi. Tapi - tunggu
sebentar . Tidak, pergi , pergi . Aku benci kamu . Atau - tidak, jangan pergi .
Oh , jika Anda tahu betapa marahnya aku, betapa marah ! [ Dia melempar pistol
ke kursi. ] Jari saya bengkak karena hal ini . [ Dia marah menangis saputangan
. ] Apa yang Anda berdiri di sana selama ? Pergi!
Smirnov : Perpisahan !
MRS . Popov : Ya , pergi. [ Tangisan keluar . ] Mengapa
Anda akan pergi? Tunggu - tidak , pergi! Oh , betapa marahnya saya ! Jangan
datang terlalu dekat , tidak datang terlalu dekat - er - datang - tidak lebih
dekat .
Smirnov : [ Mendekati dia . ] Bagaimana saya marah dengan
diriku sendiri ! Jatuh cinta seperti anak sekolah , menjatuhkan diri berlutut .
Aku punya dingin ! [ Sangat . ] Aku mencintaimu . Ini baik-baik saja - semua
saya butuhkan adalah untuk jatuh cinta . Untuk besok saya harus membayar bunga
saya, panen jerami telah dimulai , dan kemudian Anda muncul ! [ Dia membawanya
dalam pelukannya . ] Aku tidak pernah bisa memaafkan diriku sendiri .
MRS . Popov : Pergi! Ambil Lepaskan aku ! Aku benci kamu -
Anda - ini -
[ Sebuah ciuman panjang . Masukkan LUKA dengan kapak ,
tukang kebun dengan menyapu , kusir dengan garpu rumput , dan pekerja dengan
tiang . ]
LUKA : [ Menatap pasangan . ] Langit Penyayang !
[A jeda panjang . ]
MRS . Popov : [ . Menjatuhkan matanya ] Katakan kepada
mereka di kandang yang Tobby tidak memiliki apapun oat .
The Analysis of "The Boor" by Anton
Chekhov
First Impression
The Boor is an interesting one–act play. It is
a play about the fickleness of feelings and commitment. It tells about how
faithful a woman, even her husband had died, she was still faithful, and how
irritated she was, after knowing that her husband had betrayed her, but she
didn’t change, she still loved her husband very much by imprisoning herself in
her house and receiving no one. Her faithful and personality made one man, Mr.
Smirnov, finally fell in love with her, even it had been a confrontation, duel,
and insulting each other. The main problem is she couldn’t pay her husband debt
but Mr. Smirnov wanted her to pay, because he needed the many. This problem
seems like a door open Mrs. Popov’s new life after about seven month
imprisoning her herself. This play explores the ironies of life. It could
happen today to life of any body.
The Fact of the
Play
Mrs. Popov was a widow grieving a lot because
of her husband death. She had been imprisoning herself for about seven months
after her husband death and receiving no one. She had no spirit of life. It was
showed from her saying “My life is over. He lies in his grave, and I have
buried myself within these four walls. We are both dead.” She had proved her
faithful even her husband betrayed her. Mr. Smirnov, proprietor of a country
estate, a farmer, came asking for money that her husband had loaned because he
had bought oats. Mrs. Popov and Mr. Smirnov had a duel after insulting each
other. It seems that they looked like a dog and cat, which couldn’t be
together. But, unpredictable Mr. Smirnov said that he loved her.
Exposition and
Antecedent action
The story started by appearance of Mrs. Popov
and her servant, Luka, it was stated “A well-furnished reception-room in MRS.
POPOV'S home. MRS. POPOV is discovered in deep mourning, sitting upon a sofa,
gazing steadfastly at a photograph. LUKA is also present.” It showed that Mrs.
Popov was grieving. And her servant tried to rise her spirit of life; “It isn't
right, ma'am. You're wearing yourself out! The maid and the cook have gone
looking for berries; everything that breathes is enjoying life; even the cat
knows how to be happy-slips about the courtyard and catches birds--but you hide
yourself here in the house as though you were in a cloister. Yes, truly, by
actual reckoning you haven't left this house for a whole year.” The next
statement of Luka answer the cause of her grieving, “There you are again! It's
too awful to listen to, so it is! Nikolai Michailovitch is dead; it was the
will of the Lord, and the Lord has given him eternal peace. You have grieved
over it and that ought to be enough.”
The Setting
In the beginning of the story the author stated
the setting clearly, “A well-furnished reception-room in MRS. POPOV'S home.
MRS. POPOV is discovered in deep mourning, sitting upon a sofa, gazing
steadfastly at a photograph. LUKA is also present.” Then the entire story set
in Mrs. Popov house, in the reception room, in the dining room and at the
garden. Setting is much less consequence in this story. The Greek convention of
the unities of place and time reduce the significance of setting in Antigone. The action occurred in one
place, in Mrs. Popov’s house, within one day.
The plot
The
plot or the structure of action which this one-act play has is closed plot,
where in here with its definite resolution of conflict. And the drama seems
happy ending.
The story began with a conversation between
Mrs. Popov and her servant. This is the exposition. Luka, they talk about her
grieving because of her husband death. She had been imprisoning herself since
her husband death and receiving no one.
Then she had to meet Mr. Smirnov who asked her
to pay her husband loan. This is the complication appeared, she couldn’t pay
him because she hadn’t any money in hand. She could pay it the following two
days. But Mr. Smirnov couldn’t receive it. He wanted the money directly at that
time, because he needed it to pay interest of a bank. But Mrs. Popov had
nothing to do. Mr. Smirnov didn’t want to leave; consequently, she started to feel
disturbed, while she was in grief and not interesting in talking about money
matter. But Mr. Smirnov was mad, he could not receive it that because she was
in grief, she didn’t care about this problem, while he needed the money very
much to pay interest tomorrow, he was being pursued by the bank. He told her
his problems and especially the problem with women and then he stared to throw
off on women, he said he said “I am not
speaking of present company, but of women in general; from the tiniest to the greatest,
they are conceited, hypocritical, chattering, odious, deceitful from top to
toe; vain, petty, cruel with a maddening logic ……… have you ever in your life
seen a woman who was really true and faithful? Never! Only the old and the
deformed are true and faithful. It's easier to find a cat with horns or a white
woodcock, than a faithful woman.”
Then the crisis started to appear with a
conflict when they were insulting each other. Mrs. Popov could not receive what
he talked about women. She told her how she was irritated because her husband
had betrayed her, but she still love her husband very much, she could not
forget about him and she was still in grief after seven months imprisoning her
herself and receive no one, she explain “Men
true and faithful! So long as we have gone thus far, I may as well say that of
all the men I have known, my husband was the best; I loved him passionately
with all my soul, as only a young, sensible woman may love; I gave him my
youth, my happiness, my fortune, my life. I worshipped him like a heathen. And
what happened? This best of men betrayed me in every possible way. After his
death I found his desk filled with love-letters. While he was alive he left me
alone for months--it is horrible even to think about it--he made love to other
women in my very presence, he wasted my money and made fun of my feelings--and
in spite of everything I trusted him and was true to him. And more than that:
he is dead and I am still true to him. I have buried myself within these four
walls and I shall wear this mourning to my grave.” Mrs. Popov was really
mad, many times she wanted him to leave her house, but he would just if she
paid him the money. They were insulting each other and starting to use bad
language.
Then, this is the crisis, Mrs. Popov and Mr.
Smirnov in a duel with guns, pistols. He was surprised he had never met a woman
like her. After Mrs. Popov took the pistols she wanted them to move to the
garden and have a duel there. But then suddenly he didn’t want to fight. It was
because he liked her.
Then the falling action happened with a
surprised statement of Mr. Smirnov that he loved her. She couldn’t understand
how came, she didn’t believe it after all what had happened; they were
confronting, insulting, and even dueling. But he tried to make her sure “I love you as I have never loved before.
Twelve women I jilted, nine jilted me, but not one of them all have I loved as
I love you. I am conquered, lost; I lie at your feet like a fool and beg for
your hand. Shame and disgrace! For five years I haven't been in love; I thanked
the Lord for it, and now I am caught, like a carriage tongue in another
carriage. I beg for your hand! Yes or no? Will you?--Good!” Mrs. Popov had a conflict inside she was
confused she wanted him to leave but would she let him go.
Finally she couldn’t avoid Mr. Smirnov kiss and
the story ended.
Characters
HELENA IVANOVNA POPOV, Mrs. Popov, was a
grieving widow because of her husband death. She was a faithful woman that even
her husband had betrayed her she was still true and faithful. She was a pretty
woman as her servant, Luka, said “Oh, my dear, dear ma'am, young and pretty as
you are, if you'd only let your spirits live--! Beauty can't last forever. When
ten short years are over, you'll be glad enough to go out a bit and meet the
officers--and then it'll be too late.”
GRIGORI STEPANOVITCH SMIRNOV, proprietor of a
country estate, Mr. Smirnov was a farmer, he stated his self “I'm too
tender-hearted with them. But…” and there is some of Mr. Smirnov saying about himself,
“Ugh, a fine figure! No use denying that. Dust, dirty boots, unwashed,
uncombed, straw on my vest--the lady probably took me for a highwayman.” He was
a frank man, even Mrs. Popov considered him as a Boor and vulgar man. But I
think Mr. Smirnov was honest and expressive.
LUKA, servant of Mrs. Popov was an obedient
man. He was kind and gentle, he suggested the best for Mrs. Popov.
A gardener, a Coachman, and several workmen
were as obedient as Luka.
The Brief
Summary
Mrs. Popov was a widow grieving a lot because
of her husband death. She had been imprisoning herself for about seven months
after her husband death and receiving no one. Then suddenly a man, Mr. Smirnov,
came asking for money that her husband had loaned and he needed the money very
much. But Mrs. Popov couldn’t pay at that day; she could pay the following two
days. That made them, Mrs. Popov and Mr. Smirnov, had a confrontation and then
insulted each other. Then they changed the conversation about their own problem
in their insulting, about a faithful of a man or a woman. They started to be
angry then she took guns, pistols, they had a duel. But they didn’t fight,
because he told her that he like her. That was hard to believe. And the story
ended in contrasting point Mr. Smirnov fell in love with Mrs. Popov.
