Page:Plays by Anton Tchekoff (1916).djvu/93

ACT I

ground, the better. My dear boy, do not try to fight alone against thousands; do not tilt with windmills; do not dash yourself against the rocks. And, above all, may you be spared the so-called rational life, all wild theories and impassioned talk. Everything is in the hands of God, so shut yourself up in your shell and do your best. That is the pleasant, honest, healthy way to live. But the life I have chosen has been so tiring, oh, so tiring! So full of mistakes, of injustice and stupidity! [Catches sight of, and speaks angrily] There you are again, Uncle, always under foot, never letting one have a moment’s quiet talk!

. [In a tearful voice] Is there no refuge anywhere for a poor old devil like me?

[He jumps up and runs into the house.

. Now I have offended him! Yes, my nerves have certainly gone to pieces. I must do something about it, I must

. [Excitedly] Ivanoff, I have heard all you have to say and—and—I am going to speak frankly. You have shown me in your voice and manner, as well as in your words, the most heartless egotism and pitiless cruelty. Your nearest friend is dying simply because she is near you, her days are numbered, and you can feel such indifference that you go about, giving advice and analysing your feelings. I cannot say all I should like to; I have not the gift of words, but—but I can at least say that you are deeply antipathetic to me.

. I suppose I am. As an onlooker, of course you see me more clearly than I see myself, and your judgment of me is probably right. No doubt I am terribly guilty. [Listens] I think I hear the carriage coming. I must get ready to go. [He goes toward the house and then stops] You dislike me, doctor, and you don’t conceal it. Your sincerity does you credit.

[He goes into the house.