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    Chekov - The Seagull - translated by Jean-Claude van Itallie

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    Chekov - The Seagull - translated by Jean-Claude van Itallie

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    Download as pdf
    6 views26 pages

    The Seagull

    Uploaded by

    Michael Henry
    Chekov - The Seagull - translated by Jean-Claude van Itallie

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    Download as pdf
    of 26
    cast OF CHARACTERS Nmcouavevna (married mame Trepleyes), an actress Ansan, IS ‘pany, KONTANTINE GAPRLOVIC, He 00, young man Sons, Prork NIKOLAYEVICH, area NEA MICHALOVNS, 2 yoUnE git daughter of rich lundowner sour, lis ArwAsvEMTH, a retred army lestenant, manager of Soria esate actin ANDRENEN, his wie Masi, his daughter “Taconts, Bons ALEXYEMICH, 4 novelist Dons, even SERGEY 2 doctor Mrovepresno, SenvON SEMONOVICH, a teacher ‘Yaxo, 2 worker Coox Mu er brother ‘he ation takes place om Soin’ country estate ‘Twoyrars apse between Act II and Act TV Actt Fr of the pork in Sorin’ eee. A rad avo dso fromthe ai 2a: Leer te park tard ake, b the soma He ofthe ake Fe boked by a temporary stage bing bul for an smatewr performance right Brow hebind the Ged erat of th temprty sae ROW ad Sts worker ere eed coughing and banoering. Base on th igh and eft [Farther enc the ake fo cars and mall table. The sn bas ast Ait and MEDVEDTESD enter fom the lf, returning from ah Mrpvepriaco: Why do you always wear black? Masi I'm in mourning for my life. 'm unhappy. Meoweprnsxo: (vndeing) Why? I don't understand. You're healthy. "Your father's not rch, but he's nt poor. My hfe is mach harder than yours. Tear only twenty-three rubles month, an from that they deduct forthe pension fund. But I don't wear mourning. (Tig sit) Masia: Ies nota mater of money. Even a poor person can be hap. Mepveorewwo: That's a nice theory, but in practice it doesn't work. “Take my case—ther’s me, my mother, my two sisters and my lit tle brother. On my salary of twenty-three rubles 4 month we all have to eat and drink, to bay sugar and tea and tobacco and soon and soon and soon. Masi king tsar te sage) The play will begin s000, ‘Manvazmanaco Yes. Nin Zarechnaya isto perform in a play by Konsan- tine Gavilovch, They're in lore, Tonight their oul will mingle in ar tre to both of them. But my sou and your sul have no sch ‘omnmon ground. Ilove you so mich Ian’ stay home alone. Each day L walle si miles here, and st mules back—to mest nothing but iniference on your par. I suppose i's tobe expected. Ihave no vate means and big family. Who'd want to marry & man who ‘n't promde?| ‘asus Nonsense. (aking uf 1 touched by your love But I can't sean iThat al She orn hema fo) Herter -Mupveprenxo: No, thank you. I don’ fc like it (pus) ‘Masuae The ats heavy. Well probably have a storm. All you do is phi- soa Chow a a derstand =. Mla of ets) aes se aie Lecee irey Sc eng les and 0 eo change = ih nor welt Thmeing wl ae 2 tt cd brain omy sal Ie bes. ang Sa ee er lnch And now Tn eck nei Pere Doyo kaw the eng? spuren You shold be living in town. (cing MASHA and MeD- se Rayo to shale be hee. Yul be called whee Senay, bt pe bare 0 sono ou) Mira Icha, plese sk your fther nt ve vp ‘cee op ny sae va pn se othe kin oursel on ashi, and please do’ a rea stares) 1 sown) Dont forget cll us when the play str aa ed MEDVEOTENO oont) Sonn That mens he og wil howl gui alnight You see how it? Tee pry way te county. When Teame here on tent ‘hed knetoreendso ones s00n 5d ar, they'd peer certs Scenic ae Trcred~nowtere fo ond So lie or not Tm here ‘ow: (eran Kontanine Gaeavich, wer ging fort sim "Tu ih tek nen ie ing at iat 1 a Ye lee) Laer fore the sage) This is our theatre. Curtain, the wings, |enpy spac, No scenery. Al yl sei the ae exo “one ‘Sone Perfect, =e , by now. Her father and stepmother watch her ike TO The Sea Gull 15 hhawhs. I's as hard for er to escape from home as from a pris (He sraightens bis uncle's te.) Your hair and beard are a mess. You. should have them trimmed. Sona: (combing out bis Beard) e's the bane of my life. Even when Twas young, I always looked drunk or something. Women were never attracted to me. (ittng) Why is your mother in such a bad mood, today? “Tureuxev: Why? She's bored. (iting by bis unde) And she's jealous. She's ‘angry about my play because Nina's acting int, and she's not. She hasn't seen or read it, but she hates i Sona: (laughing) Is that really rue? ‘Tureurev: Yes, she's angry in advance because, even though i's just on this lie stage, ie willbe Nina's suceess and not hers. king at bis swatch) She's a psychological case, my mother. Certainly talented and simart—she can cry over 2 book, and recite the whole of Nekrassov by heart. And when you're sic, she'll nurse you like an angel. But just try praising Duse around her. Oh no, not that. You, ‘may praise only Mother, write only about productions that “Mothers in, ave only about Mother's performance in Camille or ‘The Fume of Life. And since she finds no intoxicating adulation in the country-—Mother's bored, She's cross, we're all her enemies it's our fault, And she's supersticious—afraid of of three candles on, 4 table, and the number thirteen. And she's a miser. She has sev~ tenty thousand in the bank at Odessa. now that fora fact But ask hae fora loan, and she bursts into teas. Sonn: You think your mother doesn't like your play, or something. Don't worry. Your mother adores you ‘Turrivev: (pulling petals off a flover) She loves me, she loves me not, she Toves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not. (He Jeughs) You see—my mother doesn't love me. Why should she? ‘She wants excitement, romance, and pretty clothes. I'm twenty-five ‘now, That reminds her she's no longer young. When I'm not, around, she's chiy-two. When Iam, she's forty-three. She hates ‘me for that, and because I don’ believe in The Theatre. She adores The Theatre. She believes she's serving Mankind and the Sacred Cause of Art I think theatre today is boring and trite. The curtain goes up on three walls within which our famous actors are careflly lit. Our high priest of art strut about, showing us how to Anson Chebhor , walk an oy ite 7 He anala with tiny vations. Thats why ere ae ht fee cheapen his mind ec imowing it would chetPe vec have a heat sone Ba too une kind f hear We need new fom, ‘Trem What ve theme's ave no theatre a al. (He lok fake here mh tee a Se gabon that weiter of her ava Waning a oper string Maybe selsh, Du witha ern Tbe apy she were fs an ordinary SET ie wh ee with er, Uncehe par om of fms actor and writers? Can you imaging dows a nly nobody theres me. And who am? Heron, That’ the only reason they talk vo me. I left University my thied Jo du ws ceostances, a they sey, beyond my conta TO Lope And no lent. According £0 my paspors Tn 3 SES br Ke That's my social postion. My father wag ¢ = FRE Gr Ki wo, but he was «famous actor. When my se etn cane rns ond mencin ends de tae irae rege thongs hamlining scams By Sawa tl nek f mes tht win eto Tim oat He ever opens his mouth “Turse Hesialigen simple rather melancholy He seems desea es unde fry and fos. He has everything he wants. As fr is wig you cond sy is carang and clever Bat af Seep esky bady emer ‘Son: love literary people, my boy. In my life I wanted two things pas-_ sont any and to bcome a writer. Neither happened So, even econ writer sound prety good to me. Turse: neg Semon’ coming (He embrace bis unde) Van le whout her. Even he sound of her footsteps bean lly happy! (ing omer Da ZARECHENAYA a Se enters) My dar= Tg oon ny dea ‘Nowe (agitated) I'm not late? I hope I'm not late. 3 ares. The playwright squeezes out g port fr home consumption, Bagh The Sea Gull 17 “pnsrexen (ining ber band) No, n0, no. ‘Ni worried ll day. asso afta Father woulda let me come. He and my stepmother jst went out: Traced the horse. The sky's already red. The moon wil be up soon, Gaugly) Bt Tm happy how. Im here. (She takes Sonn’ band) Sonne: Ganghing te) You've been crying. Ican tll by your pretty eyes "That won't do. I really won't. ‘Now Tim alright now. 'm jst out of breath, Please let's hurry. have ‘to leave in half an hour. have to. Please don't ask me to stay longer. can't. My father doesn't even know I'm hee. “Twar.vev e's time, Tl call them, Sonn: I'l go. I'm going now. (He gos of singing “Tbe Toe Grenadier.) “To France we're returning, two Grenadiers.” (He stp, tum: duck tard them) Once when I started to sing ik that, an asis- tant prosecutor said, "Your Excellency as a strong vice.” Then he stopped to think, and added, “Strong, bu not very good.” He er ut laughing) ‘Now: My father and his wife forbid me to come here. They say its Bohemia. They'se afraid I'l become an actress. But Tm drawn here, to the lake—Hke asa gull. My hearts filled with you. (She looks arvend) ‘Tuunuyev: We've alone. [ive Is that someone over there? ‘Taxrtxev: No, no one (is) ivi: What kind of rei that? ‘Tusnivev An elm. [Nivts Why does it look so dark? ‘Tusnivev Is evening. Everything looks darker now. Don't go away carly. Please dont. Nove mast ‘Trsrey: Then follow you home. I'l stand all night in your looking up at your window. mee ‘Next: No, don't The watchman would see you. And Tresor doesn't ‘know you yet—he'd bark. “Trent Hove you. Nowe Sth! asc Chtbor q Sa yh Ros cirighel ies Sach a rom atin I the 000 wp? recom ‘yaxow Yes st holited spirit? Ts the sulphur wo yo hve the me feud ure De re pate mst be the el of sph: y We Ved beter go. Ererthing’s ready. Are you nervous? ely I dont mind your mater so mach—T'm not afd so Yes ela ee merit an i em im A Famous writer... he young? ‘Taurus: Yes rvs He writes wonderfal tories, Nn: (i) I woulda’ know. [haven't read them, ‘a You know, your plays hard to perform. There are no people init, Numan. Why should there be? I don't want to show life asi tll onl hw things shouldbe T want to show life in dreams, ‘Nowe But almost nothing happens. Is just talk: And T think there should always be lovers in a play (Ty diapear bend te sage. ENULINA ANDREYEVNA and Dom er) Pav ANDRETEVN Ie’ getting damp. Go back and put on your gash Dow I'm to hot uuu ANoAFYEYNA: You dont take care of yourself—so stubborn, ‘You're a doctor, you know pefetly well damp ar is bad for you. Buryos want me to suffer. You set onthe terrace the whole of ye ‘erday evening on purpose. ors: (ingirg) “Ob, never say your young life's ruined...” Pacuns Axomrrevns: You were so busy talking to Irina Nikolayewna you dia’ even notice the cold. Admit you find her attractive. Dow I'm fy, ‘Pause Anwar So what? For a man that's not old. You're stil handsome. Wome like you Dons: What do you want me todo? ‘cus ANDRE Men aluays throw themselves at the feet of an ae The Sen Gull 19 Door Gnging fly “Once mote, bce more, Let before you, lore” Beayors Ire acne We tink of thea fret taney, shopkeepers ts natural Fs iedizng. Pauuna Avonrmna: Women fil in love with you, away. They throw hema at you. lta easing oo? Doar dragging) MeyBe."Thaits te pod a the feciogt women have for me, What hey love hat Tm » good doctor, Tenor teen years ago waste only good midwife inthe coun. And Tm 2 pron Pasnew Aner (ing bis bend) Ad dato, my dating! ‘Dome Careful. Someone's coming (neaDisa enters om SORNY arm wth TRIGORIN, SIAMRAEY, SGoveoma ad ns) Suaaar Atte Plt ai in 1873 she was fantasti, fate ser delight w KADDU) And do you happen to know where ee Cede a ere ap reeo teeer han Sadoatys Iya den lady, Laure you. Whee ise ay ‘Anson: Stop asking me sboet ata from before the loud. How hould I know where bei (Sha) waa: (ighng) Aa, Pavel Chadin, Ther’ noone lke him now. “The theatre's not what it was rim Nikslyeva, There were Tigh is ree pS wc aly spe Dons There may not be many great lens, bet the general level of 2c Tags higke. Syma: Ten’ agrees. Buti a mater of tste—De guts ant tea at i (IMEPLYEV come from bind he age) Anxaoews Dearestson, whe wl it str? “Terran Tas moment. Plwe be patient asic (big fom Hark) Oh, Hae, speak no more ‘Thom rn oe eyes int my ery sol (edete testis Ghckead guieal as ‘ASwrilet ear i tics ™ “Tess arephrcng from Hamlet) Nay, but ove in wickedness, soni sce love in sand gentlemen, your attention please, The 4 nothin ta . ed chosand years what wil be is nothing, 1 oo heed Sih eon sven mA i ut er Caco it Se caacnin a 8 Se cere a Renee eam, eg ee cana sod ek prep eiee p pera ea ee eel Paper my cory ner ae [omaapereeped Se Pan Nene plete con beams Tate octet Steal nme acc taof ond ts Gran af ae, Stiri Aol Nien of ee over ooe oencee Se eee eee ‘me, (The wills-the-wups appear.) * mane range) TO ting ded. ‘Tusvir: (reproactfully imploring ber) Mother. Nm de Brey bonded jess Tope ny Bip and pen, bt wie eho yin te Note ha? nt een you le fume Te den fe mah presse aa eo pated len eter as aa dat ‘what might be born from you, Satan, Father of Eternal Matter, ‘continuously changes your atoms. You, the stones and water con- ‘invowsly change. Only I, Spirit of the World, remain unchanged. | The Sea Gull 11 1 am etemal. pa) Lam ikea prsonce down a deep, empty wel {don't know where Fam, or what awaits me. [know only that in the caage struggle with Satan Prince of Matcer—T shall ulimate Jy win Then, when Spirit and Mater merge harmoniously, become one-the reign of Universal Will hall begin. Bu that will be ony aer countless millenia, when the moon, the bright Dog. gn the earth have tore to dst... Ul then—horror, hor or. (A pase. Too redspt appear oe he lake) Satan, my mighty remy, approaches. 1 se his tebe blood-red eyes. Ansan: Tse sulphur Ts that par ofthe play “Tass. Yes. Ansan ging) Ob Tee. A scenic effect. “Tasnivsv: Mother! ‘Nov Without humans, Satan is lonely PAULIN ANDREVEYNA ( DORN) You've taken your hat off again. Put i ‘on, or youl catch cold [Ausannw The doctor has taken his hat off to Satan, the Father of ternal Mater. “trance: eng, nal ie) The pla is over. That's enough. Caran! Assan: Why are you angry? “Taameev: That's enough! Curtain! Close che curtain! (He stamps bis ot) Crain! (Tecra des) Forgive me. forgot that only a chosen few are permited to wite plas, or actin them. Tve infringed on a monopoly. YouI-— (head of saying more, be makes a guare of domising the wble bing, goes ou.) “Anxaoive: What's the mater with him? Sonn Trin, you cant hare young man’s rie like tha. ‘Anxaoene: What di say? Som: You hort his feelings. Amann: He sid the play was tobe for our amusement. simply took him a his word. Sonne Yes, but. ‘Auxaoene: And now itseems he's writen a masterpiece. Good Lond he's concocted this whole performance, fumigating ws with sulphur, not as an entertainment but a lesion. He wants to teach us how to write, how to at Tim sick oft. Is boring. His perpetal fry ——- — ae fc ite Va pet conceited boy. mo Te i si aa bee a A eta heneeeaet eal etetaanee en sone He only Asxapose Ith spel mind -pecones Everyone writes what he wants and what he can sane Welt him write whathe wants and what he can—but don't oskme tole tt Done Gret Jove is ney URecove Tin nt Great Jove. Ym a woman (She ight a egerit) And Tr not ngey—Tm ost sony to see a young man Waste his time T did mean tor his feelings Maovepnewo, There's no scenic basis for dividing Sprit from "Mater eral Spin may ust ea different combination of atoms, (bg, icons) Twi someone would write «play about 3 ‘chooltacher. We have a ery hard fe, very hard saan: OF couse you do, but let's not talk about plys or atoms on ‘uch + bei evening. Listen, do you bear? They're singing. (She poe tien) Ws lovely. ‘Pana ANDREYEYN I’ from the other sid ofthe ake pene) ‘Assan (0 TAGORD) St er by me. Ten oF fifteen yeas ago we had ‘music and singing onthe lake every night. In the sx big houses along the shore there was always laughter, noise, people Bring {gus and endlessly making lve. And the jee premier ofall the lof sx houses, was our fend here. (She madr tard DORN) Dacor Yevgeny Sergeyvich. Hes charming now, but then he wat simply imessile My consciences beginning to bother me. Why Aid Thur my poor boy's feelings? I feel badly. (She call.) Kost! Darling! Konstanie! Mas: go lok for him Aumape: Would you, my dar? ‘Masa: ng a) Yooh. Konstantine Garlovich. Yoo-hoo, Lo The Sea Gull 113 ow pearing from bebind the cera) ess we're not ging 0020 Tan come out. Good evening. (She hier AMRADINN ond xk ssDREYENA) sone Bravo, brvo Aunanou: Bravo, bravo, Enchanting. Such beauty, such + lovely woe Tra sin to bury youself hee in the country. You have talent elie me. You must go on the tage ‘nw Thats the dream of my if. aghing) But il never happen “Anxapena: Who can tell? Let me introduce Boris Alexyevich Trigorin. Nex: Ob, Pm sappy. (mbar) Tread everthing you wre Assan (making ber it dom Bieber) Done be shy, dear. He has Simple soul for such a famous man, dort you, dear? See how shy hea? ‘Dowse Can we open the curtin now? Is oppresive this way. Samar (adh) Yakov, ny boy, open the curin (The curtain is opened.) ww TatGORN) I's a strange lay, is ie? “conn I dda’ understand it But enjoyed watching you in it. You ‘rere sincere. And the sentry was lovely. (pam) Tsuppote there se cmay Goh in hia be Now Yes “Taicoen Hove to fish, There's nothing Td rather do than sit by the wate t sunset watching the cork lat ‘Now: But surely for one whos experienced the joy of creston, no other plate imei Axxo: engine) You musta alto him ik that. He doesnt know ‘what oy when people compliment him. Swuamarv I remember one evening a the Moscow Oper, the great Sila hit low C. By sheer coincidence the bass fom our church choir was in the second balcony, and suddenly we heard “Bravo, Silva*—a whole octave lower! Like this. Gn # dep as, loud) Brav, Silva. The audience was thundersrck. You could have heard pin drop. pe) Dome An angel of lence has foun over us. ‘no: Tost go. Goode. Chekhov 14 Anton fesse Where ep ep oe aan A essa close YOU a ‘much I want to stay! - you home, darling. vot yo go? Why’s0 soon? We won't let you go, (eining ber) Well, we can't help nove I yo only ew hose ‘Anca: Soro MUS ml) On ‘Sony: (mplrog ber) DONE BO- Se ar Nae ren oe, Coc Sane) ean, he ses hn, are ot) Sa pa Thy ote mote everthing ne Tit te dope Ann be wild al ag ear ey ek ih hinge sbodking. an hr her an imposible scoundrel CE a image cater acts yrange in? Ie’s getting damp. My oe, 7 hi a eee als nod Hee lene help you, Come Po eh he berm) se Gh orm if Madan? aa Ore oxhokng agin. sustay Plesse el hem edgy ABmayeich. sua Cant foe Py itor, wel have thieves in Soe ei tp itera nan, rarcencenastete ee pear rcw neem eee coven How ach dos en dary coi person ea? Th a an cp OHS) ot fg [docs eh. ak pi sa sere i There someting fe and dec sb When eee Sakic (ietleiehed ear aytiedarae i sens nn Pinel yo Doe Pater The Sea Gull 115 -Turruvey: Mashenka's stalking the woods for me, What an annoying owe Konsantine Grwilovch, 1 liked your play, very mach. I's Serange, and ofcourse T didn't hear the end, bo t made an im pression on me. You have talent. You mast write moe. (TEP.7EV ‘ate bis bend wary, impuioey embraces im) Flow nervous yoo tres my fend—tarsin your eyes. What was I aying? You chose dn absract topic. ‘Thats good. Art should express rest ies. Nothing canbe besutifl fs nor serious, You're looking pal. “tarrrnv: Do you thik I should go on? Domne Yes, be write only whats tre and timeless. ve ha good lif, Waried—T've made good choices, But if Pd had the ck to expen nce th cosas of creating, I would have soared shove the earth, teen cared off tothe heights — ‘Turney: Excuse me, bu wher is Zarchnays? Dons One more thing. Awork fart must have ace, concise purpose ‘You must now why you writ, Ifyou merely wander down ana thetic path with no definite aim, youl lose your way-—and your {alent willbe your downfall. “Trev vev: (impatiently) Where's Nina? Doms: She's gone hore “Turney despair) What shall I do? want see her. Thave to see he. T'm going afer her (usin enters) Dons: Calm down, my friend. “Turron Fm going afer er. Tost Masia: Pes come ise, Konstncine Gswilovich, Your mather’s ‘worried about you, She wants to see you. “Twrryrv: Tell her Pve gone. And please, ll of you, leave me slone— jus leve me slone: Stop fllowing me around Dons Calm down, Kostys. Don't get so excite i's not good for you, ny dear “Tuer: (oth tarsi bis ys) Goodbye, Doctor. Thank you. (He vere) Dons: (ging) Ab, youth, youth son Chekhov ene oe seis 9 9 a, Masi Perse aka ph of 8) ra or af ran i ae) Dieting Donn: ein MA usc atte house We should o in abi. ese) THE ns Wat Dons: Wha ie hing. ve wanted tell you bef el you something. re. ss ano mane 1 dn owe my father. Bat yo lp me. Help me, or Tl do some” Se a matt Ob Curain yo | acrn A croquet lawn. Plowerbeds. In back, om the righ, i the large porch of the On the ft blake, the rf of te mia nn ng ote Sat tb owned state, DOS end ath pes Inthe shade ofan ld linden tee. DORN bat am open bi Anwapnes: (t) MASHA) Come, stand next to me, (They stand together.) You're twenty-two, and T'm nearly twice your age. Yevgeny Sergeyvich, which of us looks younger? Dorn: You, of course “AneaDonn:(t MASiA) There. You see? And why? Because I work, I feel, Tmove all the time. You say put, you don’ realy live... I make it a mule never to worry about the future. I don't think about aging or

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