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THE BOOR Anton Chekhov PERSONS IN THE PLAY HELENA IVANOVA POPOV, a young widow mistress of a country estate GRIGORI STEPANOVITCH SMIRNOV, proprietor of a country estate LUKa, servant of MRS. POPOV Agardener. A Coachman. Several workmen TIME: The present. SCENE: A well-furnished reception-room tm MRS. POPOV'S home. MRS. POPOYs Wistovered mn deep mourning, sitting upon asoja, saxing steadfastly at aphotograph. LLIKA is also preset. LUKA: It isn’t right, ma’am, You're wearing yourself out! The maid andithe cook have gone looking for berriss; everything that breathes is enjoying life; even the cat knows hiow tobe happy —slips about the courtyard and catches birds —but you hide yourself here in the hous’ asthough you were in a cloister, Yes, truly, by actual reckoning you haven't left thic house for a whole year. MRS. POPOV: And Ishall never leaveit why should I? Mylifeis over, Heliesin his grave, and Thave buried myself within these four walls. We are both dead. LUKA: There you are again! It too awful to listen to, s0 itis! Nikolai Michailovitch is dead; it was the will of the Lord, aind the Lord has given him eternal peace. You have grieved over it and that ought tobe enough. Now it’s time to stop. One cantt weep and wear mourning forever! My wife died a faw years ago. I grieved for her. I wept a whole month—andhilien it was over. Must one be forever singing lamentations? That would be mora than your hustisnd was worth! [He sighs.) You have forgotten all your neighbors. Youdon’t go out and youreceivend-dne, Welive—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 werent any morenice people in the world! But the whole ~ighborhood is fullof gentlefolk. The regiment isstationed in Riblov—officers—simply beautifull Orie can’t see enough of thern! Every Friday ball, and military emusic avery day. Oh, my daar, dear ra"im, young and pratty as you are, if you'd only let your epirits live—| Beauty can’t last forever. When'van short yearsareover, you'll be glad enough to goouta bit and meet the officers—and then it'll be to late. MRS. POPOV: [Resoluiily.] Please don’t speak of these things again. You know very well that since the death of Nikolai Michailoviteh my life isabsolutely nothing to me. You think Ilive, but it only seams s0, Do you understand? Oh, that his departed soul may see how Jove him! know, it's no secrat toyou, he was often unjust to me, cruel, and —he wasn’t faithful, but Ishall be faithful to the grave and prove to him how [canlove, There, in the Beyond, he'll find me the sameas I was until his death, LUKA: Wit is the use of all these words, when yould somuch rather go walking in the garden or order Tobby\of Welikan harnessed to the trap, and visit the neighbors? MRS: POPOV: [Werping.] Oh! WOKA: 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 Viassovs, 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, [4 bell rings lowaly.1 MRS. POPOV: [Shudders.] What's that? I am at home tono one. LUKA: Yes, ma'am. BA.I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/L [He goes cut, centre.] MRS, POPOV: [Gazing at the photograph} You shall see, Nikolai, how Ican loveand forgivel My love will die only with me—when my poor heart stops beating, [She smiles through her tears.} Anclarer’t you ashamed? Ihave been a good, true wife; I have imprisoned myself and Ishall remain true until death, and you—you—you're not ashamed of yourself, my dear monster! You quarrelled with me, left me alonefor weeks— [LUKA entersin great excitement} LUKA: Oh, ma’em, someone is asking for you, insists on secing you— MRS. POPOV: Youtold him that sinca my husband's death I receive no one? LUKA: I said 50, but he won't listen; he says it isa pressing matter. MRS. POPOV: [receive noone! LUKA: [told him that, but hea wild man; he swore and pushed himself into thé room; hein the dining-rcom now. MRS, POPOV: [Exaitedly, ]Good, Show him in, The impudent —! [LUKA goes out, centre,] MRS, POPOV: What a bore people are! What can they want with sie? Why dothey disturb my peace? [She sighs.) Yes, itis clear I must enter a convent, [Meditatively} Yes.a convent, [SMIRNOV enters, followed by LUKA.} SMIRNOV: [To LUKA,] Fool, you make too much néige! You're an ass! [Discovering MRS. POPOV—politely.] Madam, I have the honor to introduce njsalf: Lieutenant in the Artillery, retired, country gentlernan, Grigori Stapanovitch Smirnov! I'm compelled to bother you about an exceedingly important matter. MRS. POPOV: [Without offering her hand ]\Whatis it you wish? SMIRNOV: Your deceased husband, witfiwhom I had the honor to be acquainted, left me two notesamounting to about twelve hundred roublas. Inasmuch as [ have to pay the interest to-morrow on a loan from the Agrarian Bank, I should liketo request, madam, thet you pay me the money to-day. MRS. POPOV: Twelve hundred Zand for what was my husband indebted to you? SMIRNOV: He bought oats from me. MRS. POPOV: [With asigh, to LUKA.] Don’t forget to give Tobby an extra measure of oats [LUIKA goes cut] MRS. POPOV: [75'SMIRNOV,] If Nikolai Michailovitch is indebted to you, Ishall, of course, pay you, but | amsorry, [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 imonths since the death of my husband, and Iam not in the mood to discuss money matters, SMIRNOV: And Iam in the mood to fly up the chimney with my feet in the air if I can’t lay hands onthat 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 Ido if Lhaven't it? SMIRNOV: So youcan’t pay? MRS. POPOV: Icannot, BA.I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/2 SMIRNOV: Hmm! Isthat 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 [ was always worrying. Why, in Heaver’s narne, shouldn’t I worry? I need money, I feel the knife at my throat, Yesterday moming [left my house intheearly dawn and called on all my debtors. If even one of them had paid hisdebt! Iworked the skin off my fingers! The devil knows in what sort of Jew-inn Islept; ina oom with a barrel of brandy! And now at last I come here, seventy versts from home, hope for allittle money, and all you give mes inoods! Why shouldn’t womry? MRS. POPOV: [ thought I made it plain to you that my manager will return 25m town, and then you will get your money. SMIRNOV: I did not come to see the manager; [carne to see you. Whet the devil — pardon the language—do Icare for your manager? MRS. POPOV: Really, sit, lar not used to such language or such rrmnners, Ishan’tlistan to you any further. [she goes out, left] SMIRNOV: What can one say to that? Mcods! Seven month¥ since her husband died! Do Ihave to pay the interest or not? Irepeat the question, havel 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 Ito do? Shall I run away from my creditors in a balloon? Or knock my head against a stone wall? If | call on Grusdev he chooses ta be “nat at hore,” Iroschavitch hsasimply hidden hirnself, Ihave quarrelled with Kurzin and came near throwing him out of the window, Masutoy is ill and this wornan has—moods! Not one of them will pay up! And all because I've cpoiied them, because 'm an old whiner, dish-rag! I'm too tender-hearted with them, But wait! lallohobody to play tricks with me, the devil with ‘erm all! Ill stay hereand not budge until she pays! Brrl'How an gry Iam, how terribly angry Iam! Every tendon is trembling with anger, and Ican hardly breathe! Im even growing ill [He calls out] Servant! (LUKA enters] LUKA: What isit you wish? SMIRNOV: Bring me Kas or water! [LUKA goes out.] Well, what can we do? She hasn't it on hand? What cort of logicis that? A fellow stands with the knife at hic throat, he naede money, he ic cn the point of hanging himself,.and she won’t pay because she isr’t in the mood to discuss money matters. ‘Wornen’slogic! That's why [never liked to talk to women, and why I dislike doing itnow. Iwould rather sitona powder barrel'than talk with a woman. Brr!—I'm getting cold as ice; this affairhas made me so angry Ineed only te seesuch a romantic creature from adistance to get so angry that | have cramps in my calves! It enough to make one yell for help! [Enter LUKA] IUKA: [Hands hima water,] Madarn is ill and isnot receiving, SMIRNOV: March! [LUKA goes out,] Ill and isn’t receiving! All right, it isn’t necessary. I won't receive, either! Il sit here and stay until you being that money. IFyowre ill a week, Ill sit here a week. If you're illa year, llsit herea year. As Heaven is my witness, I'l get the money. You don’t disturb me with your mourning —or withyour dimples, We know these dimples! [He calls out the window] Simon, unhamess! ‘We aran’t going to leaveright away. lam going to stay here, Tell therm in the stable to givethe horsessome oats, The left horse has twisted the bridle again, [Fmitating hum.] Stop! Ill show you how. Stop! [Leaves window ] I’sewful. Unbearable heat, no money, didn’t sleep last night and now —mourning-dresses with moods. My headaches; perhaps I ought tohave a drink. Ye-s, I rust havea drink, [Caliing.] Servant! BA.I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/3 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 yauns.]It vasa little impolite to comeinto a reception- room with such clothes. Oh, well, no harm done, I'm not here asa guest. I'ma creditor. And there is no special costume for creditors. LURKA: [Entering with glass.} You take great liberty, sir. SMIRNOV: [Angrily. ] What? LUKA: 1—I-1 just—— SMIRNOV: Whom are you talking to? Keep quiet LUKA: [Angrily.] Nice mess! This fellow won't leavel [He goes out.] SMIRNOV: Lord, how angry lam! Angry enough tothrow mud atthe whole world! I even feel ill! Servant! [MBS POPOV comes inwith downcast tyes ] MRS. POPOV: Sir, in my solitude I have become unaccustomée’ to the human veice and I cannot stand the sound of loud talking. I beg you, please to cease distarbing my rest. SMIRNOV: Pay me my money and I'll leave. MRS. POPOV: Itold you once, plainly, in your native tohgue, that Ihaven’t the money at hand; wait until day after to-morrow, SMIRNOV: And I also had the honor of informifig'you in your native tongue that Ineed the money, not day after to-morrow, but to-day. you dee't pay me to-day I shall have tohang mycelf to- morrow. MRS. POPOV: But what can Ido if I haven't the money? SMIRNOV: So you arenot going toyay immediately? You're not? MRS. POPOV: Icannot. SMIRNOV: Then I'll sit here intl I get the money, [He sits down.] You will pay day after to- morrow? Excellent! Here I stay until.cay after to-morrow, [jumps up.] Lask you, do Ihave to pay that interest to-morrow or not? Or do you think I'm joking? MRS. POPOV: Sir, | beg of you, don’t scrzam! This is not a stable SMIRNOV: 1'm sicttalking about stables, 'masking you whether Ihave to pay that interest to- morrow or not? MRS. POPOW: Youhave no idea howto treata lady. SMIRNOW? Oh, yes, Ihave MRS. POPOV: No, you have not. You are an ill-bred, vulgar person! Respectable people don’t speak so io ladies. SMIRNOV: How remarkable! How do you want one to speak to you? In French, pethaps! Madartie, je vous priel 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 eeremony.] MRS. POPOV: Notat 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 [have seen more wornen than you have sparrows. ‘Three times have I fought duels for women, twelve I jilted and nine jilted me, There wasa time when I BA.I/Eng, Lit /P-1/4 played the fool, used honeyed language, bowed and scraped. I loved, suffered, sighed to the moon, melted in love's torments, 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 ve had enough of it. Your obedient servant will let you lead him around by thenose 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! Iam not speaking of present company, but of wornen in general; from the tiniest to the greatest, they are conceited, hypocritical, chattering, odious, deceitful from top to toe; vain, patty. 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 lookingat some hcly. 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 —its 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, anid that ithasa monopoly on all the tender passions. May the devil hang me upside down if there is anything to love abouta woman! When che is in love, all she knows is how to complain and shed tears, Ii the man suffers and makes sacrifices sheswings her train about and tries to lead him by the nose, You have the misfortune to bea woman, and naturally you know wornan’s nature; tell me on your hori: have you ever in your life seen a wornan who wasreally true and faithful? Never! Only theold ang the deformedare true and faithful. I's easier to find a cat with horns or a white woodcock, than a faithful woman. MRS. POPOV: Butallow me to ask, who is true and faithfulit love? The man, perhaps? SMIRNOV: Yes, indeed! The man! MRS. POPOV: The man! (She laughs sarcastically, Ta kaan true and faithful in love! Well, that issomething new! [Bitterly, | How can you make sucha statement? Men true and faithful! So longas we have gone thus far, Imay as well say that ofall themen Lbave known, my husband was the best; Iloved hhim passionately with all my soul, 2s only a young, eefisible woman may love; I gave him my youth, my happiness, ery fortune, my life, Iworshipped him likes heathen. And what happened? This best of ren betrayed me in every possible way. After his deat’ found his desk filled with love-letters. While he was alive he left me aloné for months —it is horrible even to think about ithe made love toother wornen in my vary presence, he wasted my money-anu made fun of my feelings —and in spite of everything I trusted him and was true tohim. And more than that: he is dead and Lam still true to him. have buried myself within these four walls and I shall wear this mourning tomy grave. SMIRNOV: [Laughing disrespectfully.] Mourning! What on earth do you take me for? As if I didnt know why you wore this black domino and why you buried yourself within these four walls Such a secret! So romanticl-Some knight will pass the castle, gaze up at the windows, and think to himself: “Here dwells thé iystericus Tamara who, for love of her husband, has buried herself within four walls.” Oh, I understand the art! MRS. POPOW [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 nosel MRS: POPOV: How dare you speak 80? SMIRNOV: Don't scream at me, please; I'm not the manager. Allow me to call things by their right names, Iam not a woman, and Iam accustomed to speak out what I think. So plesse don’t screarn. MRS. POPOV: I'm not screaming. It is you who are screaming, Please leave me, Ibeg you. SMIRNOV: Pay me my money, and Il leave. MRS. POPOV: | won't give you the money. SMIRNOV: You won't? You won't give me my money? MRS. POPOV: {don’t carewhat you do. You won't geta kopack! Leave mel BA.I/Eng, Lit/P-1/5 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 kard.] You are going tosit down? SMIRNOV: 1 already have. MRS. POPOV: Kindly leave the house! SMIRNOV: Give me the money, MRS. POPOV: I don’t careto speak with impudent men, Leavel [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 ef@ordered? What do you want? SMIRNOV: [Jumping up.] Whom do youthink youare talkingis? Ill grind you to powder. LUKA: [Puts his hand to his heart,] Good Lord! [He drops ibaa chair.] Oh, I'm ill; I can’t breathe! MRS. POPOV: Whereis Dascha? {Cailing.] Dascha! Pelageja! Dascha! [She rings} LUKA: They'reall gone! I'm ill! Water! MRS. POPOV: [To SMIRNOV.] Leave! Get out SMIRNOV: Kindly bea little more pelite! MRS, POPOV: [Striking her fists and stafoping her feet ]You are vulgar! You're a boor! Amonster! SMIRNOV: What did you say? MRS. POPOV: | said you werea baor,a monster! SMIRNOV: [Steps toward er yictly.] Permit me to ask what right you have to insult me? MRS. POPOV: What of it? Doyou think Lam afraid of you? SMIRNOV: And you i{liiik that because you are a romantic creature you can insult me without being punished? I challenge you! LUKA: Mercifush Héaven! Water! SMIRNOV: havea duel! MRS, POPOV: Do you think because you have big fists anda steers neck Lam afraid of you? SMIRNOV: allow no oneto 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, boot, boor! SMIRNOV: It is high time to do away with the old superstition that it is only the man whois forced to give satisfaction. If theres equity at all let their be equity in all things. There a limit! MRS. POPOV: You wish to fighta duel? Very well SMIRNOV: Immediately. MRS. POPOV: Immediately. My husband had pistols, Tl bring them, [She hurriss away, then turns.) Oh, whata pleasure it wil be to puta bullet in your impudent head, The devil take you! [She goes out.} BA.I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/6 SMIRNOV: I'll shoot har down! I’m no fledgling, no sentimental young puppy. For me thereis no weaker sex! LUKA: Oh; sis, [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 tofight a duel. SMIRNOV: [Paying no attention.] A duel. That's equity, emancipation. That way the sexes are made equal. Ill shoot her down asa matter of principle. What can a person say to such a woman? [mitating her.] “The devil take you. Il puta bullet in your impudent head.” What can one say to that? She vas angry, her eyes blazed, she accepted the challenge. On my honor, it’ the first time in my life that lever saw sucha woman. LUKA: Oh, sir. Go away. Go away! SMIRNOV: That isa woman. Ican understand her. A real woman, No shilly-shallying, but fire, powder, and noise! It would bea pity to shoot a woman like that LUKA: [Weeping.] Oh, sit, go away [Enter MRS. POPOV] MRS. POPOV: Hereare the pistols, But before we have our duel, pleaseshow me how to shoot Thave never hada pistol inmy hand before! LUKA: God be merciful and have pity upon us! I'll go and get tlie'gardener and the coachman. Why has this horror come to us? [Fe goes out.) SMIRNOV: [Looking at the pistols.) You ceo, there aredifférent kinds, There are special duclling pistols, with cap and ball. But thesearerevolvers, Smith & Wosson, with ejectors; fine pistols! A pair like that cost at least ninety roubles. This is the way tohold a sdvolver. [Aside.} Those eyes, those eyes! Areal MRS. POPOV: Like this? SMIRNOV: Yec, that way. Then you puill the hammer back —so—than you ain — put yourhead back alittle, Just stretch your arm out, please: So —then press your finger on the thing like that, and that isall. 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 icn’t well_to choot inside; lets go into the garden. SMIRNOV: Yes I'll tell yoit now, Tam going to shoot into the air. MRS. POPOV: That.is #50 much! Why? SMIRNOV: Becatsd2~ because. That's my business. MRS. POPOV! You areafraid. Yes, A-h-h-h. No, no, my dear sir, no flinching! Please follow me. I won't rest until I've rnade a hole in that head I hate so much. Are you afraid? SMIRNGY Yes, I'm afraid. MRS. POPOV: Youare lying, Why won't youfight? SMIRNOV: Because—beceuse—I—like you. MRS. POPOV: [With an angry laugh. You like mel He dares to say he likes mel [She pointsto the door.) Go. SMIRNOV: [Laying the revolver silently on the table, takes hishat and starts, At the door he stops a moment, axing at her silently, then he approaches her, hesitating] Listen! are you stillangry? I was mad as the devil, but please understand me—how can lexpress myself? The thing is like this —such things are— [Heraives his veice.] Now, is it my fault that you owe memoney? [Grasps the back of the chair, which breaks.] The devil know what breakable furniture you havel I like you! Do you understand? I—I’m almost in lovel B,A.I/Eng, Lit,/?-1/? MRS. POPOV: Leavel I hate you. SMIRNOV: Lord! Whata wornan! I never in my life metone like her. Pm lost, ruined! I've been caught like arouse in a trap. MRS. POPOV: Go, of I'll shoot. SMIRNOV: Shoot! Youhave no idea what happiness it would be to die in sight of those beautiful eyes, to die from therevolver in this little velvet hand I'm mad! Consider it and decide immediately, for if gonaw, we shall never see each ather again. Decide —speak —I am a nable, a respectable man, have an income of ten thousand, can shcot a coin thrown into the air. own somefine horses. Will you be my wife? MRS. POPOV: [Swings the revelver angrily. ] Yl shoot! SMIRNOV: My mind is not clear—Ican’tunderstand. Servant —water! [have fallen in love like any young man. [He tates her hand and ske cries with pain] llove you! [He kneels:}| love you as Ihave never loved hefere, Twelve women Ijilted, nine jilted me, but not one of them all have [loved as I love you. lam conquered, lost; Iie at your feet like a fool and beg for your hand Share and disgrace! For five years I haven't been in love; I thanked the Lord for it, and now Iam catight, like a carriage tongue in another carriage. I beg for your hand! Yes or no? Will you? — Good! [He getsup and goes quickly to the door.) MRS. POPOV: Waita minute! SMIRNOV: [Stopping.] Well? MRS. POPOV: Nothing. You may go. But—waittnoment, No, goon, goon, I hate you. Or— no; don’t go. Oh, if you knew how angry 1 was, how angry! [She throws the revolver on to the chawr.] My finger is swollen from this thing, [She angrily tears her handberchief.] What are you standing there for? Gat out! SMIRNOV: Farewell! MRS. POPOV: Yes, go. [Cries olf] Why are you going? Wait—no, gol! Oh, how angry Tam! Don't come too neat, don’t come too fiear —er—come—no nearer, SMIRNOV: [Approaching/ir. How angry Lam with myself! Fall in love like a schcolboy, throw myself on my knees, I've got a chill! (Strongly.] [love you. This is fine —all [needed was to fall in love. To- morrow Ihave to pay my itterest, thehay harvest has begun, and then you appear! [He takes herin his arms.} Ian never forgive eryself. MRS. POPOV: ‘Go away! Takeyour hands off mel I hateyou—you— thie ic— FA long kisip)Enter LUKA with an ane, the gardener with arake, the coachmanwith apitchfork, and workmen witiepoles.] LUKA: [Staring at the pair] Merciful heavens! We long pause) MRS. POPOV: [Dropping her eyes,] Tell thern in thestable that Tobby isn’tto have any oats. CURTAIN BA.I/Eng, Lit/P-1/8 The Boor The playwright Anton Chekav (1860 — 1904) is famous, even a hundred years after his death, forhis impressive shortstories and one-act plays. The Cherry Orchard, Three Sisters, Uncle Vanya end The Seagull are plays that have been studied and performed innumeraole times. Many of Chekov's plays were produced bythe Moscow Art Theatre. They have been translated into many languages. They continue tohave awide eppeal becauss thereis sympathy as well as areal stic portrayal of the troubles in lite inhis plays. There is also an elementof humour, which often turns into rolicking cored, Chekovis arepresentative of pre-revolut onary Russia, well aware of its glaring disparities in the lives of the ch and the poor. In his plays, he often ridicules the sentiments and custome of the bored rich and sympathises with the lot of the poor. His training as @ doctor probably gave him an insight into the harsh realities of life. He helpedito put down an epidemic of chaiera but succumbed to tuoerculosis attne age of forty-four. The play The Boor, ike The Provosal, is acomedy. kprogressés by a series of contrasts. When the play opens, we find Luka the servart tying to persuade ‘45. Popov to give up moumning far her husband. Sho is determined to bury herseff within the four walls of her house, to show her dead husband how devoted she is to his memory, eventhouchfie had tormerted herand had been unfaithful toher. Smimov marches into her house unceremoniously, demanding the money that ner husband had borrowed from him. She tells him that she does notheve the moneyat the moment butthet she will see that t is returned to him in a day or tis: He refuses to leave without te money and decides to stay as lang as ittakes her to find the arfidunt He rants and rages atthe situation of havingto go. from debtor to debtor to find his money andi also at the fickle nature of women, who have given hima great deal of trouble. Mrs. Popov argues thet itis the man andnot the woman who is fickle and their argument goes s0 far as to cal foraduel. Mrs. Popov bravely brings her husband's pistols, although sho doos not know how to use them. While trying to instruct her on how to shoot, Smimnoy falls hopelesslyinlove with her and ioposes tohet. Mrs. Popovis at irstscandelised but soon reciprocates his ardour and at the fakoFthe curtain, whenher servants rush in armed withsticks and staves, they are found in an embrace The apenifid of the olay resembles the first scene of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, with Mrs. Popov being sniimental about love. Towards the end itis more ike The Temiag of the Shrew, for Mrs. Popost has outgrown her sentiments and the rough soldier Smimov has been tamed into expressing his love for her ‘iter Mrs. Popov leaves the room, Smimov explodes into a violent soliloquy, listing all his troubles. The language he uses and the crcumstances he describes make the audience sympathetic to him, even though he is behaving like @ bor. When Mrs, Popov returns, she requests him to stop shouting and leave her house. He refuses and they enter into an argument about who is faithful in love. BA.I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/9 The ergument soontakes a violent tum. Mrs. Popov cals him aboor and he challenges herto a duel or insulting him, saying thathie does not consider women the weaker sex. While inthe pracess of teaching her to fire the pistols, Smirnov falls in love with her and is appalled athimsett forfalling in love ke ayoung man. Thisis the climax of the play. Mrs. Popov too is shocked et her response; she asks hirnto go but alsoasks him to stay. Their confusion and cisrray make the scene hilarious. The rough and baorish creditor andthedelicate, sentimertal young widow find themselves falling unwillingly inlove The last ine, "Tobby isn’t to have any cats" sums up the transformation in Mrs. Popey., also marks the deniouernent or resolution of the conflict. She is nc longer inclined to feed extra dats to Tobby just because her dead husband was fond of the horse and looked very handsome when he rode, as she had been saying at the beginning of the play. Nowshe is ready to forgethimand give up mourning for him because she has fallen in love again Notes wearing yourself out tiring yourself cloister convent, building in which nuns live lamentations expressions of sorrow: livery uniform of the servants, worn on formal occasions Tobby, Welikan names of horses‘owned by Mrs. Popov verst Russian méazirre of distance, equal to 3500 feet, Exercises I. Answer the following questions 1, For how long has IVs. Popov deen in mourning? 2. Whyis MrscRopov mourning? 3. What kindof a person was her husband? 4. Whdlinsists on seeing Mrs. Popov? 5. ‘itiat does the visitor want? 6. Whyis rs. Popov unableto cblige her unwelcome guest? 7. What does the quest do whenhe sees thathe cannot gat whathe wants? 8. Why is the quest angry? 9. Whatis the argument the developes between the two of ther? 10. What does the guest challenge Mrs. Popovio do? B,A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/10 11. Why dogs he give up his challenge? 12. How does Mrs. Popov react to the guest's declaration? I Complete the following sentences Mrs. Popovis in mourning because Luka wants Mrs. Popov to give up mourning as itis Ivirs. Popov wants to be faithtulto The questwho forces his wayinto Mrs. Popov's house is Smimovwants Mrs, Popovto rs. Popovis unable te oblige Smimov because Smimovthinks that women Mrs. Popov believes thatmen 9. Smimov chellenges Mrs. Popov to a duel because OA OARwANS 10. Tho play ends with Ill. Explain with reference to the context 1... everything that breathes is enjoying life 2. Tobby, Tobby ... give him an extra measure of ots today! 3. And lamin the mood to fly up the chimneyinith my feetin the air 4. | would rather sit on a powder barrel thahtalk with a woman 5. lam nota woman and lam accustomed to speak outwhat! think 6. I'm lost, ruined! 've been caughtlike a mouse ina trap. IV. Write a short paragraph on each of the following 1. The opening scene of tie play 2. The climax of the pay 3. The character of Mrs. Popow 4, The contrast’ between the twa main charactars in the play V. Attempt'a short essay on The dPatnatic element in the play, “The Boor B,A.-I/Eng, Lit/P-1/11 THE DEAR DEPARTED —Stanley Houghton Characters Mrs, SLATER, Mrs, JORDAN-sisters HENRY SLATER, BEN JORDAN- their husbands VICTORIA SLATER-a gitl of ten ABELMERRYWEATHER (The scene is the sitting-room of « small house in @ lewermiddle-class district of a provincial:tqum. On the spectator’s left is the window, with the blinds down. A sofa is in front of it. On his Fight isa ‘firepclae with an armchair by it. In the middle of the wall facing the spectator isthe docr into #ha-passage. To the left of the door @ cheap, shabby chest of drawers, to the right a sideboard. Inthe middle of the room is the table, with chairs round it. Ornaments and a cheap American clock are om the mantelpiece, In the hearth a kettle. By the sideboard apar of sanudy new carpet slippers, The table is partly laid for tet, and the necessaries ‘for the meal are on the sideboard, as also are copies of anevering proper and of Tit-Bivs and Pearson's Weekly. Turning 10 the left through the door takes you to the front door, to the right, upstairs, Im the passage a hat- standis visible When the curtain rises Mrs, SLATER is seen laying the table. Shes a vigorous, plump, red-faced, vulgar woman, prepared to do any amount of straight talking to get her pwn way, Sheis ix black, but not in complete mourning, She listens a moment and then goes to the windory, opens it and calls into the street.) Mrs, SLATER [sharply]: Victoria! D'yehesr? Come in (Will you? [Mrs, SLATER eloces the window and pute the blind st¥elyht and then returns to her work at the table. VICTORIA, a precocious girl of ten, dressed in colours, enters:] Mrs, SLATER: Vm amazed at you, Victoria, Leally am, How you can be gallivanting about in the street with your grandfather lying dead and cold,upstaits, [don’t know. Be off now, and change your dress before your Aunt Elizabeth and your Untle Ben come, It would never do for them to find you in colours. VICTORIA: What ate they coming for? They haven't been here for ages. Mrs, SLATER: They're coming t>talk over poor grandpa’s affairs. Your father sent them a telegram as soon as we found he was dead, [Anoise is heard.] Good gracious, that's never them. [Mrs. SLATER hurries ta the daor and apensit.] Nethank goodness! its only your father. [HENRY SLATER, astesiping, heavy man with a drooping moustache, enters, He is wearing a black tail coat, grey trousers, a bOick te and a bowler hat He carries a little paper parcel.) HENRY: Notcone yet, ch? Mrs, SLATER: You can see they haven’, can’t you? Now, Victoria, be off upstairs and that quick, Put your white fréck on with a black sash. [VICTORIA goesout] Mrs, SLATER [te HENRY]; 'm not satisfied, but Its the best we can do till our new blacks ready, and Ben art¢h. Elizabeth will never have thought about mourning yet, so we'll outshine them there. [HENRY ts i the armchair by the fire.] Get your boots off, Henry, Elzabeth’s that prying she notices the least peck of ditt. HENRY: I'm wondering if they'll comeat all. When you and Elizabeth quarralled she said ched never set foot in your house again. Mrs, SLATER: She'll come fast enough after her share of what grandfather'sleft. You know how hard she can be when she kes. Where she gets it from, | can’t tal. [ Mrs, SLATER wuwraps the parcel HENRY has broug ht. It contains sliced tongue, which she puts on adishon the table} HENRY: | suppose it’s in the family, B.A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/12 Mrs, SLATER: What do you mean by that, Henry Slater? HENRY: | was referring to your father, not to you, Where are my slippers? Mrs, SLATER: In the kitchen; but you want a new pair, those old ones are nearly worn out, [nearly breaking down] You don’t seem to realize what its costing me to bear up like I am doing. My hearts fit to break when Isee the little rifles that belonged to grandfather lyingaround, and think he'll never use them again. [briskly] Herel you'd better wear these slippers of grandfather's now. It lucky he'd just got a new pain HENRY: Thay’ll be very small for me, my dear. Mrs, SLATER: They'll siretch, won't they? I'm not going to have them wasted. [She has finished laying the table] Henry, ?'ve been thinking that bureau of grandfather's that in his bedroom. You know always wanted to have it after he died, HENRY; Youmust arrange with Elizabeth when you're dividin g things up. Mrs, SLATER: Elizabeth's that sharp she'll see I'm after it, and she'll drive a hard bargain over it. Eh, whatit is to have a low money-grubbing spirit! HENRY: Perhaps she’s got her eye on the bureau as well, Mrs, SLATER: Shes never been here since grandfather bought it. If itwas only down here instead of in his room, she'd never guess it wasn’tour own, HENRY [started]: Amelia! [He rises] Mrs, SLATER: Henry, why shouldn’t we bring that bureaii down here now, We could do it before they core, HENRY [stupefied]: I wouldn't’ care to. Mrs, SLATER: Don't look so daft. Why not? HENRY; It doesn’t seem delicate, sornehow, Mrs, SLATER: We could put that shabby cld’chest of drawers upstairs where the buresu isnow. Elizabeth could have that and welcome. I’ve always wanted to get rid of it. [She points to the drawers] HENRY: Suppose they core whertwe're doing it Mrs, SLATER: I'll fasten the frérit door. Get your coat off, Henry; we'll change it. [Mrrs, SLATER goes to faster front door. HENRY takes his coat off. Mrs, SLATER reappears.) Mrs, SLATER: Ill run Gp'and move the chairs out of the way. [VICTORIA appedts, dressed according to her mother's instructions. VICTORIA: Willyou fasten my frock up the back, mother? Mrs, SLATER: Ven busy: get your father to do it, (Mrs, SLATER [furries upstairs, and HENRY fastens the frock] VICTORIA: What have you got your coat off for, father? HENRY: Motherand me are going ta bring grandfather's bureau down hers. SICTORIA [after ammoment’s thought]: Arewe pinching it before Aunt Elizabeth comes? HENRY [Shocked]: No, my child, Grandpa gave it to your mother before he died, VICTORIA: This morning? HENRY: Yes, VICTORIA: Ah! He was drunk this morning HENRY: Hush: you mustn't ever say he was drunk now. [HENRY has fastened the frock, aad Mrs, SLATER appears carrying 2 handsome clockunder herarme,] B,A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/13 Mrs, SLATER: I thought Idfetch this down as well. [She putrit on the mantelpiece.) Our clock’s worth nothing and this always appealed to me, VICTORIA: Thaté grandpat clock. Mrs, SLATER: Chut! Beqiet! It’s oursnow. Come, Henry, lift your end, Victoria, don't breathe a word to your auntabout the clock and the bureau, [ They carry the chest of drawers through the doorway.) VICTORIA [to herself] :| thought we'd pinched them, [After ashort pause thereis a sharp knock at the front door.] Mrs, SLATER [from upstairs): Victoria, if thats your aunt and uncle you're not to open thedoor. [VICTORIA peeps through the window] VICTORIA: Mother, it’tthem! Mrs, SLATER: You're nat ta open the door till Tcame dawn. [Knecking refiegtéd] Let them knock avay. [There is a heavy bumping noise] Mind the wall, Henry, [HENRY and Mr, SLATER, very hot and jlushed, stagger in with a preity bld-fashioned bureau contaming a locked desk. They put 1 where the chest of drawerstwas, and straaphten the ornaments, ett. The knocking is repeated.) Mrs, SLATER: That was a near thing. Open the door, Victorian’ Now, Henry, get your coat on, [she helps hea] HENRY: Did we knock much plaster off the wall? Mrs, SLATER: Never mind the plaster. Do I look allaiglit? (Straightening her hair at the glass] Just watch Elisabeth's face when she sees we'te all in half snourning. [throwing kim TH-Bite] Take this and sit down. Try and lookas if we'd been waiting for thern. [HENRY sits in the armchair and Mrs, SLATER left of table. (They read ostentatiously. VICTORIA users in BEN and Mrs. JORDAN. The latter ws a stout, complacent woman with an impasswe jace and-an irritating air of being always right. She is wearing a complete and deadly outfit of new mourniig cYouned by a great black hat with plumes. BEN ie also in complete newmourrting with black gloves aaé a band round his hat. Heis rather vjoily little man, accustomed to be hemorous, but at present trying to\eilopt hiraself to the regrettable occasion. He hasa bright, chirpy little voice. Mrs, JORDAN sails into the room andsolemnly goes straightto Mrs. SLATER and kisses her. The mun shake hands. Mrs, JORDAN kisses HENRY. BEN kisses Mrs, SLATER, Not a word is spoken, Mrs, SLATER furtively inspects the new mourning] Mrs, |ORDAN: Well, Amelia, and so he's goneat last. Mrs, SLATER: Yes, He's gone. He was seventy-two a fortnight last Sunday. [She saiffs hozkatear. Mrs, JORDAN sits on the left of the table. Mrs, SLATER on the tight, HENRY din the armchair, BEN on the sofa with VICTORIA near hima] BEN [chispily]: Now, Amelia, you mustn’t give way. We've all got to die some time or other. It might haverheen worse, Ws, SLATER: I don't see how. BEN: It might have been one of us. HENRY: It taken you along time to get here Elizabeth. Mrs, |ORDAN: Oh, I could’t do it, I really couldiv't do it. Mrs, SLATER. [euspiviously]: Couldn't do what? Mrs, JORDAN: I couldn't start without getting the mourning, [glancing at her sister] Mrs, SLATER: We've ordered curs, you may be sure. [Acidly) B.A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/14 Inever could fancy buying ready-made things. Mrs, JORDAN: No? For myself it’s such a relief to get into the black, and now perhaps youll tell tus allabout it, What did the doctor say? Mrs, SLATER: Oh, he’s not bean near yat. Mrs. JORDAN: Not been near? BEN [in the same breath] : Didn't you sand forhim at once? Mrs, SLATER: Of course I did, Do you take me fora fool? Isent Henry at once for Dr, Pringle but he was out BEN: You should have gone for another. En, Eliza? Mrs, [ORDAN; Oh, yes, Ita fatal mistake. Mrs, SLATER: Pringle attended him when he was alive and Pringle shall attend itn when he's dead, That's professional etiquette. BEN: Well, you know your own business best, but- Mr. JORDAN: Yes-it’ a fatal mistake. Mrs, SLATER: Don’t talk so silly, Elizabeth, What good could a doctix have done? Mrs, [ORDAN: Look at the many cases of persons being restored to life hours after they were thought to be ‘gone’. HENRY: That's when they’ve been drowned. Your father. wasn't drowned, Elizabeth, BEN: [humorously]: There wasn't rnuch fear of that, If there was one thing he couldn’t bear it was water [He laughs, but no one else dds] Mrs, |ORDAN [pained]: Ben! [BEN is crushed at once] Mrs, SLATER: [piqued] : 'm sure he washedregular enough. Mrs, |ORDAN: Ifhe did take adrop tod rluch attirnes, we'll not dwellon that, now. Mrs, SLATER: Father had been ‘mer’ this morning, He went out soon after breakfast to pay his insurance BEN: My word, its 2 good thitig he did. Mrs, JORDAN: He alwaysvivas thoughtful in that way. He was too honourable to have ‘gone’ without paying his premium. Mrs, SLATER: Welle inust have gone round to the ‘Ring-o’- Bells’ afterwards, for he came in as merry as a sandboy. I says; We're only waiting Henry to start dinner. ‘Dinner’, he says, ‘Idon’t want no dinner. I'm going to bec! BEN [Shakizij Ris head] : Ab! Dear, dear, HENRY An when I came in I found hirn undressed sure enough and snug in bed. [He rises and stands on the hearthrug, Mts [ORDAN [definitely]: Yes, he'd had a ‘warning’, I'm sure ofthat, Did he know you? HENRY: Yes. He spoke to me. Mrs, [ORDAN: Did he say hedhad a ‘warning’? HENERY No, He said, ‘Henry, would you mind taking my boots off; [forgot before I got into bed.” Mrs, JORDAN: He must have been wandering HENRY: No, he'd got ‘em on all right. MMs, SLATER: And when we'd finished dinner I thought (dl take up a bit of somethin gon a tray, He was lying there for all the world as if he was asleep, so I put the tray down on the burastt-[correcting B,A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/15 herself] on the chest of drawers-and went to waken him. (A pause) He was quite cold. HENRY: Then I heard Amelia calling for me, and Iran upstairs Mrs, SLATER: Of course we could do nothing Mrs, JORDAN; He was ‘gone’? Mrs, SLATER: There wasn’tany doubt. Mrs, [JORDANS I always knew held go sudden in the end. [A pause, they wive their eyer and sniff back tears] Mrs, SLATER [rising briskly at length; m a businesstike tong): Well, will you go upand look at him now, or shall we have tea? Mrs, JORDAN: What do you say, Een? BEN: 'mnot particular. Mrs, [ORDAN [nerveying the table): Well, then, if the kettles nearly ready wealay as well have tea first. [ Mr. SLATER puts the kettle onthe fire and gets tea ready.] HENRY: One thing we mayas well decide now, the announcement ifthe papers, Mrs, [ORDAN: I was thinking of that, What would you put? Mrs, SLATER: At the residenceof his daughter, 235 Upper Cofnbank Street, etc, HENRY: You wouldn't care for a bit of poetry? Mrs, [ORDAN: Ilike ‘Never Forgotten’, Its refined, HENRY; Yes, but it's rather soon for that. BEN: You couldn't vary well have forgotten bint the day after Mrs, SLATER: I always fancy, “A loving husbard, a leind father, and a faithful friend’ BEN [doubefully]: Do you think that’s right? HENRY: [don’t think itmatters whethet its rightor not, Mrs, [ORDAN: No, it’ mote for tho'iook of the thing HENRY: [saw a verse in the Evaning News yesterday, Proper poetry it was, It rhymed, [He gets the paper and reads] ‘Despised and forgotten bipscme youmay be But the spot that covittins you ws sacred to we Mrs, [ORDAN; That never do, You don't say ‘Sacred to we’ HENRY: Its inthe paper Mrs, SLATER: You wouldnt say it if you were speaking properly, but its differentin poetry. HENRY: Poetic licence, you know. Mrs JORDAN: No, that'll never do, We want a verse that says how much we loved him and refers toll his good qualities and says what a heavy loss we've had, Mrs, SLATER: You want a whole poem, That'll cost a good lot, Mrs, JORDAN: Well, we'll think about it after tea,and then we'll look through his bits of things and makea list of them. Thare’ all the fumiture in his rcorn, HENRY: There's no jewellery or valuables of that sort. Mrs, |ORDANY Except his gold watch. He promised that to our [inmy. Mrs, SLATER: Promised your Jimmy! never heard of that. Mrs, JORDAN: Oh, but he did, Amelia, when he was living with us, He was very fond of Jimmy. B,A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/16 Mrs, SLATER: Well. [amazed] Idon’t know! BEN: Anyhow, there’s his insurance money, Have you got the receipt for the premiurn he paid this morning? Mrs, SLATER: I've not saen it [VICTORIA juemaps wo from the sofa and comes behind the table] VICTORIA: Mother, I don’t think Grandpa went to pay his insurance this morning, Mrs, SLATER: He went out. VICTORIA: Yes, but he didn’t go into the town, He met old Mr. Tattersall down the street, and they went off past St, Phillip’s Church Mrs, SLATER: To the ‘Ring-o'-Bells’, I'll be bound. BEN: The ‘Rin g-o'-Bolle’? Mrs, Slater: That publichouse that John Shorrocks’ widow keeps. He is always hanging about there. Oh, ifhe hasn't paid it- BEN: Doyou think he hasn't paid it? Wasit overciue? Mrs, SLATER: I should think it was overdue. Mrs, [ORDAN: Something tells me hes not paid st. I've a ‘warniny’, I know it; he's not pavd it BEN: The drunken old beggar. Mrs, [ORDAN;: Hes done iton purpose, just to annoy us Mrs, SLATER: After all I've done for him, having to p(@tip with him in the house these three years, It'snothing short of swindling, Mrs, [ORDAN: I had to put up with him for five Mrs, SLATER: And you were trying to turn hin over to us all the time. HENRY: But we don’t know for certain thet e's not paid the premium, Mrs, [ORDAN: Ido. It’s come over meal at oncethat he hasn't Mrs, SLATER: Victoria, run upsteit-and fetch that bunch of keys that’s on your Grandpa's dressing-table. VICTORIA [timnidly] : In Grandpa's room? Mrs, SLATER: Yes, VICTORIA: FI don't like to, Mrs, SLATER: Defy" talk so silly. There's no one can hurtyou, [VICTORIA goes out reluctantly] ‘We'll see if he's locked the ¥eceipt up in the bureau. BEN: In where? In this thing? [Me rises and exanaines t.] Mrs, |ORDAN [also rising]: Where did out pick that 4p, Amelia? Its new since last I was there [They exarnive.2 closely.] MrsoSLATER: Oh-Henty picked it upone day, Wis, [ORDAN: llike it, It’s artistic, Did you buy itat an auction? HENRY: Eh! Where did I buy it, Amelia? Mrs, SLATER: Yes, at an auction. BEN [@sparagingly]: Oh, second-hand. Mrs, JORDAN: Don't show your ignorance, Ben. All artistic things are second-had, Look at those old masters [VICTORIA returns, very sacred She closes the door after her.] VICTORIA: Mother! Mother! ars B,A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/17 Mrs, SLATER: What isit, child? VICTORIA: Grandpa’s getting up. Mrs, JORDON: The chiki’s crazy. BEN: What? Mrs, SLATER: What do you say? VICTORIA : Grandpa's Mrs, SLATER: getting up. Mrs, SLATER: Don’t talk so silly. Don’t you know your Grandpa's dead? VICTORIA : No, no; he’s getting up. I saw him, [They are transfixed with amazement; BEN and Mrs. JORDAN left of table; VICTORIA clings to ‘Mrs, SLATER, right of table; HENRY near fireplace.] Mrs, [ORDAN: You'd better goup and see for yourself, amelia. Mrs, SLATER; Here-come with me, Henry [HENRY draws back terrified] BEN [suddenly] : Hist! Listen. [hey look at the door. slight chuckling & heard outside. The door opensivevraling an old man cladin afaded but gay dressing-gown. He is in his stockinged feet. Although over seventy he is vigorous and well coloured; his bright, maticious eyes twinkle under his heavy, reddish-grey eyebrows. He is obviously either Grandfather ABEL MERRYWEATHER or else his ghost] ABEL: What's the matter with little Vicky? (He sees BEN and Mrs. JORDAN.) Hallow! What brings you here? How's yourself, Ben? [ABEL thrusts his hand at BEN, who skips back sniértly and retreats with Mrs. JORDAN to safe distance below the sofa.] Mrs, SLATER: [approaching ABEL gingerly} Grandfather, is that you? [She pokes him with her hand to cee af he ie Seti] ABEL: Of courseit’sme, Don’t do that." Melia. What the devil do you mean by this tomfoolery? Mrs, SLATER: (to the others] : Héziot dead, BEN: Doesn’t seem likeiit. ABEL [irritated by the whispering): You've keptaway longenough, Lizzie; and now you've come you don’t seem over pleased tosee me, Mrs, [ORDAN: You'Gok us by surprise, father, Are you keeping quite well? ABEL [Thying tociétdh the word] : Eh? What? Mrs, JORDAN: Are youquite well? ABEL: Aye, th rightenough but fora bit of a headache, Iwouldn’t mind betting that I'm not the first in this house to be carried to the cemetery. always think Henry there looks none too healthy. MrsofORDAN: Well, I never! [ABEL crosses to the armchawr and HENRY gets out of his way 10 the front of the table] "ABEL: “Melia, what the dickens did Ido with my new slippers? Mrs, SLATER: [confused] : Aren't they by the hearth, grandfather? ABEL: Idontt see them, [Odserving HENRY trying to remove the slippers] Why, you've got ‘em on, Henry, Mrs, SLATER: [promptly]: Itold him to put them on to stretch them, they were that new and hard. Now, Henry. Mrs, SLATER saatchesthe sppers fromHEWRY andgioes thernto ABEL, who pias themonandsismanrchar'| B,A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/18 Mrs, JORDAN: [to BEN]: Well, I don’t call that delicate, stepping into a dead man’s shoes in such haste. [HENRY goesup to the windew and pulls up the blind, VICTORIA runs across to ABEL andsits on the ‘floor at his feet.] VICTORIA : Oh, Grandpa I'm so glad you're not dead. Mrs, SLATER: [in @ vindictive whisper] : Hold your tongue, Victoria. ABEL: Eh? What's that? Who’ gone dead? Mrs, SLATER: [Jowdly] : Victoria says she’s sorry about your head. ABEL: Ah, thank you, Vicky, but Im feeling better. Mrs, SLATER; [to Mrs. [ORDAN] : Hes so ford of Victoria, Mrs, [ORDAN: [to Mrs, SLATER] : Yes; he’s fond of our Jimmy, too, Mrs, SLATER: You'd better ask him if he promised your jimmy his gold wath, Mrs, [ORDAN: [disconcerted]: Icouldn’t just now. I don’tfeel equal to it, ABEL: Why, Ben, you're in mourning! And Lizzie too. And “Melia, and Henry and little Vicky! Who’ gone dead? It’s sorneone in the family. [Fe chuckles] Mrs, SLATER: No one you know, father, A relation of Ber’s, ABEL: And what relation of Ben's? Mrs, SLATER; His brother. BEN [ to Mrs, SLATER] : Dangit, Inever had one, ABEL: Dear, dear. And what was his name, Ben? BEN [at a loss] : Er.-er, [He crosses to front of tabler) Mrs, SLATER: [R. of table, prompting.] Fredetick, Mrs, JORDAN: [ Z. of table, prompting.) Albert. BEN: Et-Fred-Alb-Isaac. ABEL: Isaac? And where did your brother Isaac cle? BEN: In-er-in Australia, ABEL: Dear, deer. He'd be older than you, eh? BEN: Yes, five years. ABEL: Aye, aye, Aregou going to the funeral? BEN: Oh, yes. Mrs, SLATER and Mrs, JORDAN: No, no. BEN: No, fcourse not, [He retires to L.] ABEL|?sing]: Well, I suppose you've only been waiting for me to begin tea, I'm feeling hungry. MrsoSLATER: [taking up the kettle): Vil make tea, ABEL: Come along, now; sit you down and Let's be jolly, FABEL sits at the head of the table, facing spectators. BEN and Mrs, JORDAN on the left, VICTORIA brings a chair and sits by ABEL. Mrs, SLATER and HENRY sit on the right. Both the women are wext to ABEL] Mrs, SLATER: Henty, give Grandpa some tongue. ABEL: Thank you, Ill make a start. [He helps himself to bread and butter. HENRY serves the tongue and Mrs, SLATER pours out tea. Only ABEL eats with any heartiness.] B.A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/19 BEN: Glad to see you've got an appetite, Mr. Merryweather, although you've not been so well. ABEL: Nothing serious, I’ve been lying down fora bit. Mrs, SLATER: Been to sleep, Grandfather? ABEL : No, I've not been tosleep, Mrs, SLATER and HENRY: Oh! ABEL [eating and drinking]: I can’t exactly call everything to mind, but I remember Iwas a bit dazed like, I couldn't move an inch, hand or foot. BEN: And could you see and hear, Mr. Merryweather? ABEL: Yes, but Idon’t remember seeing anything particular. Mustard, Ben, [BEN passes the mustard.] Mrs, SLATER: Of course not, Grandfather, It wasall your fancy, You must have joesn asleep. ADEL [meappishly]; Itell you I wasnt asleep, “Melia, Darnn it, Tought to know: Mrs, [ORDAN: Didn't you see Henry or Amelia come into the room? ABEL [scratching his head] : Now let me think- Mrs, SLATER: I wouldn't presshim, Elizabeth, Don’t press him. HENRY: No, I wouldn’tworry him, ABEL [suddenly recollecting): Ay, begad! Melia and Henry, what the devil did you mean by shifting my bureau out of my bedroom? [HENRY and Mrs. SLATER arspeechless] D’you hear me? Henry! Melia! Mrs, |ORDAN: What bureau: was that, father? ABEL: Why? My bureau, the one Ibought- Mrs, |ORDAN: [pointing to the bureau: Wat ittinat one, father? ABEL: Ah, that’ it. What's it doing here? Zh? [A pause. The clock on the mantelpiece, sthikes six. Everyone looks at it] Drat meif that isn’t my clock, too. What the devil's been going on in this house? [A slight pause.) BEN: Well, I'l be hanged. Mrs, JORDAN [risizg] : 1i2tell you what's been going on in this hause, father, Nothing short of robbery. Mrs, SLATER: Beqjutet, Elizabeth. Mrs, [ORDAN: il hot be quiet, Oh, I call it double-faced, HENRY: Novi, how, Elizabeth. Mrs, [ORDAN: And you, too, Are you such a poor creature that you must do every dirty thing she talle you? WS. SLATER: [rising] : Rernember where youare, Elizabeth, HENRY [rising]: Come, come, No quatrelling, BEN [rising] : My wife’s every right to speck her own mind, Mrs, SLATER: Then she can speak it outside, not here. ABEL [rising; thumping the table): damn it all, will someone tell me whet’s been going on? Mrs, [ORDAN: Yes, I will, Ill not see you robbed. ABEL: Who's been robbing me? Mrs, [ORDAN: Amelia and Henry. They've stolen your clock and bureau, [Working herself up] They sneaked into your room likea thief in the night and stole them after you were dead. B,A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/20 HENRY and Mrs. SLATER: Hush! Quiet, Elizabeth! Mrs, [ORDAN: Il not be stopped, After you were dead, I say. ABEL: After who was dead? Mrs, JORDAN; You. ABEL: But I’m not dead. Mrs, JORDAN: No, but they thought you were [Apause, ABEL gazes round at them] ABEL: Oho! So thats why you'reall in black today. You thought was dead, [He chuckles,] That vas abig mistake [He sits and resumes his tea.] Mrs, SLATER: [sobbing]: Grandfather. ABEL: It didn’t take you long to start dividing my things between you. Mrs, [ORDAN: No, father: you mustn't think that. Amelia was simply. getiirig hold of them on her own account ABEL: You always were a keen one, Amelia, Isuppose you thoughtthe will wasn't fair, HENRY: Didyou makea will? ABEL: Yes, it was locked up in the bureau, Mrs, [ORDAN: And what was in it, father? ABEL: That doesn’t matter now, I'm thinking of desteéying it and makin g another, Mrs, SLATER [svbbing]: Grandfather, you'll not befiard on me. ABEL: Til trouble you for another cup of teayMidlia; two lumps and plenty of milk. Mrs, SLATER: With pleasure, Grandfather. [She powrs niet the teal ABEL: I don't want to be hard on anione [I'll tell you what I'm gong to do. Since your mother died, ’'velived part of the time with you,’ Melia, and part with you, Lizzie, Well, Ishall make anew will, leaving all my bits of things to whoever Yn living with when Idie, How does that strike you? HENDRY: It's bit of a lottery like Mrs, JORDAN: And wha és you intend to live with from now? ABEL [arinking his teal (I'm just coming to that Mrs, [ORDAN: Yéu khow, father, i's quite time you came to live with us again, Wed make you very comfortable Mrs, SLATER: No, he’s not been with us as long as he was with you. Mrs, JOREAN: Imay be wrong, but don’t think father will fancy livingon with you after what’s happened toda: ABED: So you'd like to have me again, Lizzie? Mis, JORDAN: You know we'te ready for you to make your horne with us for as long as you please ABEL: Whatdo yousay to that,’ Melia? Mrs, SLATER: All Ican say ss that Elizabeth's changed her mind in the lest two years, [Rising] Grandfather, do you know what the quarrel between us was about? Mrs. [ORDAN: Amelia, don’t be a fool; sit down. Mrs, SLATER: No, if 'mnotto havehim, you shan’teither, Wequarrelled inecause Elizabeth said she wouldnt take you off our hands at any price She said chet! had enough of you to lastalifatiene, and wedl got to keep you. B,A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/21 ABEL : It seems to me that neither of you has any cause to feel proud about the way you're treated me Mrs, SLATER: If I've done anything wrong, I'm cure Fm sorry for it. Mrs, |ORDAN: And can’t say more than that, too. ABEL: Its bit late to say it, now. Youneither of you cared to put up with me. Mrs, SLATER and Mrs. JORDAN: No, no, Grandfather. ABEL: Aye, you both say that because of what I've told you about leaving my money, Well, since you don’t want me Il go to someone that does BEN: Come, Mr. Merryweather you've got to live with one of your daughters. ABEL: I'll tell you what I've got todo, On Monday next I've got to go to three thingsal"¥e got to goto the lawyers’ and alter my will: and I've got to goto the insurance officeand pay my pramium: and Tre got to goto the St. Philip’s Church and get married. BEN and HENRY: What! Mrs, [ORDAN: Get married! Mis, SLATER: He's out of his sense, [General consternanon.| ABEL: I say 'm going to get rmarried. Mrs, SLATER: Who to? ABEL: To Mrs, John Shorrocks who keeps the Ring-c’-Ballé We've had it fixed up a good while now, but I was keeping it for a pleasant surprise, [He rises] Ifelt Iwasa bit ofa burden to you, so I found someone who'd think ita pleasure to look after me. We shall be very glad to see you at the ceremony. [He gets te the docr] Till Monday, then. Twelve ofdock at St, Philip's Church. [Opening the door] Its. agood thing you brought that bureau downstairs’ Melia, It'll behandier to carry across to the Ring-o'-Bells’ on Monday. [Hegoes out] Curtain B,A.-I/Eng, Lit /P-1/22 Dear Departed The playwright William Stanley Houghton (1881 — 1913) belonged to Manchester, in Britain. Although he was inthe cotton trade, he was greatly intarested in the theatre, He reviewed plays for the Manchaster Guardian, In time, he began to write plays for the Manchester School of drama, along with well- known playwrights such as Harold Brighouse end Alan Monkhouse, which were performed at the Gaiety Theatre in Manchester. The Deer Departed was his frst play and was performed in 1908. Other plays followed in quick succession: Independent (Means (1908), The Younger Generation (1910), Masterorire House (also in 1910), Fancy-frae (1911) and Hindle Wakes (1912), the lastand best of his plays Houghton's plays are strongly based on the simple, day-to-day lives of osdinary people The action consists ofthe little deeds of ambition, greed, pride and jealousy. The characters are usually micle.class peaple, trying to reach above their Lmitations. The cramatic effectis often provided by an unexpected tun of events. The dialegueis colloquial andin keeping with the social levels of the characters. Theplay The play The Dear Departed’ is a sardonic commeritun the greed and insersitive behaviour Abel's the bvo daughter's. In contrast to the daughters, the-suns-in-lawand the grand-daughter appear more affectionate towards Abel. The playwnght Stanley Houghton, has succeeded in presenting a study of contrasts, in tone andaction, as well asin character. The play opens on an animated note, witf!Mrs. Slater issuing instructions to her daughter and husband, It soon becomes clear that her father has died and that she is trying to take ris valuables before her sister arrives to stake her clair WhenIrs. Jordan arrives with her husband, itis obvious that sheis as calculating and sefish astersisier. Whenthe asters have exchanged veiled accusations and insinuatons, and are ready to.gat down to the business of sharing their father’s property, the unexpected happens and the plzy ends with the speechless discomfiture of the vitriolic wornen Although Abel Merryweather etpears onlyin the latter part of theplay, he is undoubtedly the protagonist and steals the show venyetjectively. The characters are drawn as individuals, with ideas and habits that set them apart Mrs Slater and Mrs. Jordan, both acquisitive and selfish, are stil identifiably different, as are their ausbands, both meek and obecient to their wives, but with sentiments and humour of their own Meanings provineialiown small town binds shade or covering fora window fireplace place in a room to light afire in cold weather sideboard . aside table, usually with shelves and drawers mantelpiece shef surrounding a fireplace hearth part of the fireplace where the fire is lt Tit-Bits, Pearson's Weekly names of magazines B,A.-I/Eng, Lit,/P-1/23 in black svaighttalking precocious gallivanting about incolours tail coat bowler hat sash new black ‘You Imow... tell sliced tongue nearly breaking down You don'tseam again sharp after it drive a hard bargain have alow money- gtubbing spirit got her eye on stupefiod daft delicate fasten the front door fasten my frock pincting near thing ostertatiousy ushers in complacent Impassive deadly: terribid accustomedto regrettablecccasion chirpy ®, apy; cheerful sails intothe room furtively give way acidly fatal mistake professional etiquette restoredto life inbiack clathes, as asign of mourning frank talk child who knows more than is normal atthat ago enjoying oneself in brightly coloured clothes and not in black (mourning) a coat which is long atthe back, with divided ends, resembling the tail of aswallow (so oftencalled "swallow") hard, round, black hat with a curved rim broad cloth belt new set of black clothes for the period of mourning Mrs. Slater accuses her sister of being greedy and dnving ahard bargain she also comments that she does not know’ fromwhere shegets this trait. This is ironical.forsheherseffhas the samequelifies, Her husband remarks:"| suppose it's in the family-and quickly retract when she is annoyed tongue of an ox orsheep, cutinto pieces ane Cooked and cocked and eaten cold almost weeping pretends to be overwhelmed by her ather's death quick to notice something want itbadly ask for something valuable Instead of it be greedy wants: shacked foolish decent bolt the'front door hocksot zip the frockat the back stealing managed just in tme making a show of doing something brings them in satisfied with oneself without any expression used to sad event of Grandfather's death walks majestically, with great dignity secretly give in to grief. cry sarcastically sefious mistake following the conventions of a profession brought back to lite B,A.-I/Eng, Lit, /P-1/24 be ‘gone crushed piqued take a drop too much merry "Ring-o-Bells merry asa sand boy dinner ‘waming’ wandering was quite cold Evening News despised poetic licence You ... poem That'l... lot swindling reluctantly disparagingly transfixed with wonder chuckling clad gay stocking feet vigorous and well-coloured malicious eyes skipsback smartly tomfaolery delicate stepping into a dead man’s shoes vindictive about your hoad Dangit Ef... er begad Illbe hanged doublefaced working herself up bit ofa lottery fancy handier have died subdued irritated get drunk drunk name of a pub, where drinks are available completely drunk main meal of the day feeling that he was going to die not clear in his thinking telt cold to the touch, as ithe were dead name of a newspaper not thoughtwell of freedom to change the rules of the language While writing poetry said sarcastically thinks that it would bea waste of money tolave @ long obituary cheating unwillingly expressing a low opinion of sorrething paralysed with shock laughing dressed 2 brightly coloured wearing stockings Dutniot shoes active and healiny sarcastic look moves away quickly nonsense in ‘bod taste iviom meaning taking a dead man’s place; here, also literally wearing a dead mar's slippers harsh, about your headache an expression of swearing, like damn it uncertain, because he has no brother. The conversation that follows is hilarious, because they are

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