The Bear - Chekhov lines

I reckon it's a whole year that you haven't left the house!

I shall never go out. . . . Why should I? My life is already at an end. He is in his grave, and I have

buried myself between four walls. . . .

In ten years' time you'll want to be a pea−hen yourself among the officers, but they won't look at you, it will be

too late

I must ask you never to talk to me about it! You know that when Nicolai Mihailovitch left, life lost all its meaning for me. I vowed never to the end of my days to cease to wear mourning, or to see the light. . . . You hear? Let him see how well I love him. . . . Yes, I know it's no secret to you that he was often unfair to me, cruel, and . . . and even unfaithful, but I shall be true till death, and show him how I can love.

Instead of talking like that you ought to go and have a walk in the garden, or else order Toby or Giant to

be harnessed, and then drive out to see some of the neighbours.

Oh! [Weeps.]

Madam! Dear madam! What is it? Bless you!

He was so fond of Toby! He always used to ride on him to the Korchagins and Vlasovs. How well he

could ride! What grace there was in his figure when he pulled at the reins with all his strength! Do you remember?

Toby, Toby! Tell them to give him an extra feed of oats.

Yes, madam. [A bell rings noisily.]

[Shaking] Who's that? Tell them that I receive nobody.

Yes, madam. [Exit.]

[Looks at the photograph] You will see, Nicolas, how I can love and forgive. . . . My love will die out

with me, only when this poor heart will cease to beat. [Laughs through her tears] And aren't you ashamed? I am a good and virtuous little girlfriend. I've locked myself in, and will be true to you till the grave, and you . . . aren't you ashamed, you bad child? You deceived me, had rows with me, left me alone for weeks on end . . . .

Madam, somebody is asking for you. He wants to see you. . . .

But didn't you tell him that since the breakup I've stopped receiving?

I did, but he wouldn't even listen; says that it's a very pressing affair.

I do not re−ceive!

I told him so, but the . . . the devil . . . curses and pushes himself right in. . . . He's in the dining−room now.

Very well, ask him in. . . . What manners! [Exit LUKA] How these people annoy me!

What does he want of me? Why should he disturb my peace? [Sighs] No, I see that I shall have to go into a

convent after all. [Thoughtfully] Yes, into a convent. . . . [Enter LUKA with SMIRNOV.]

[To LUKA] You fool, you're too fond of talking. . . . Ass! [Sees POPOVA and speaks with respect]

Madam, I have the honour to present myself, I am Grigory Stepanovitch Smirnov, landowner and retired

lieutenant of artillery! I am compelled to disturb you on a very pressing affair.

[Not giving him her hand] What do you want?

Your ex boyfriend, with whom I had the honour of being acquainted, was in my debt for one thousand two hundred roubles, on two bills of exchange. As I've got to pay the interest on a mortgage to−morrow, I've come to ask you, madam, to pay me the money to−day.

One thousand two hundred. . . . And what was my EX boyfriend in debt to you for?

He used to buy oats from me.

[Sighing, to LUKA] So don't you forget, Luka, to give Toby an extra feed of oats. [Exit LUKA] If

Nicolai Mihailovitch was in debt to you, then I shall certainly pay you, but you must excuse me to−day, as I

haven't any spare cash. The day after to−morrow my steward will be back from town, and I'll give him

instructions to settle your account, but at the moment I cannot do as you wish. . . . Moreover, it's exactly seven months to−day since our breakup, and I'm in a state of mind which absolutely prevents me from giving money matters my attention.

And I'm in a state of mind which, if I don't pay the interest due to−morrow, will force me to make a

graceful exit from this life feet first. They'll take my estate!

You'll have your money the day after to−morrow.

I don't want the money the day after tomorrow, I want it to−day.

You must excuse me, I can't pay you.

And I can't wait till after to−morrow.

Well, what can I do, if I haven't the money now!

You mean to say, you can't pay me?

I can't.

Hm! Is that the last word you've got to say?

Yes, the last word.

The last word? Absolutely your last?

Absolutely.

How shouldn't I get angry.

I thought I distinctly said my steward will pay you when he returns from town.

I didn't come to your steward, but to you! What the devil, excuse my saying so, have I to do with your steward!

Excuse me, sir, I am not accustomed to listen to such expressions or to such a tone of voice. I want to

hear no more. [Makes a rapid exit.]

I even feel sick. . . . [Yells] Waiter!

[Her eyes downcast] Sir, in my solitude I have grown unaccustomed to the masculine voice, and I

can't stand shouting. I must ask you not to disturb my peace.

Pay me the money, and I'll go.

I told you perfectly plainly; I haven't any money to spare; wait until the day after to−morrow.

And I told you perfectly plainly I don't want the money the day after to−morrow, but to−day. If you don't pay me to−day, I'll have to hang myself to−morrow.

But what can I do if I haven't got the money? You're so strange!

Then you won't pay me now? Eh?

I can't.

[Jumps up] I ask you: Have I got to pay the interest to−morrow, or haven't I? Or do you think I'm doing this for a joke?

Please don't shout! This isn't a stable!

I wasn't asking you about a stable, but whether I'd got my interest to pay to−morrow or not?

You don't know how to behave before women!

No, I do know how to behave before women!

No, you don't! You're a rude, ill−bred man! Decent people don't talk to a woman like that!

Ah, pardon. I have disturbed you! Such lovely weather to−day! And how well you look in mourning! [Bows.]

That's silly and rude.

Only freaks and old women are faithful and constant! You'll meet a

cat with a horn or a white woodcock sooner than a constant woman!

Then, according to you, who is faithful and constant in love? Is it the man?

Yes, the man!

The man! [Laughs bitterly] Men are faithful and constant in love! What an idea! [With heat] What

right have you to talk like that? Men are faithful and constant! Since we are talking about it, I'll tell you that of all the men I knew and know, the best was my boyfriend. . . . I loved him passionately with all my being, as only a young and imaginative woman can love, I gave him my youth, my happiness, my life, my fortune, I breathed in him, I worshipped him as if I were a heathen, and . . . and what then? This best of men shamelessly deceived me at every step! After he left, I found in his desk a whole drawerful of love−letters, and when he was aliveit's an

awful thing to remember! he used to leave me alone for weeks at a time, and make love to other women and betray me before my very eyes; he wasted my money, and made fun of my feelings. . . . And, in spite of all that, I loved him and was true to him. And not only that, but, now that he is gone, I am still true and constant to him. I have shut myself for ever within these four walls, and will wear these weeds to the very end. . . .

"There lives the mysterious Tamara who, for the love of her husband, buried herself between four walls." We know these games!

[Exploding] What? How dare you say all that to me?

You may have buried yourself alive, but you haven't forgotten to powder your face!

How dare you speak to me like that?

Please don't shout, I'm not your steward! You must allow me to call things by their real names. I'm

not a woman, and I'm used to saying what I think straight out! Don't you shout, either!

I'm not shouting, it's you! Please leave me alone!

Pay me my money and I'll go.

I shan't give you any money!

Oh, no, you will.

I shan't give you a farthing, just to spite you. You leave me alone!

I have not the pleasure of being either your husband or your fiancé, so please don't make scenes.

[Sits] I don't like it.

[Choking with rage] So you sit down?

I do.

I ask you to go away!

Give me my money. . . . [Aside] Oh, how angry I am! How angry I am!

I don't want to talk to impudent scoundrels! Get out of this! [Pause] Aren't you going? No?

No.

No?

No!

Very well then! [Rings, enter LUKA] Luka, show this gentleman out!

[Clutches at his heart] Little fathers! . . . What people! . . . [Falls into a chair] Oh, I'm ill, I'm ill! I can't breathe!

Where's Dasha? Dasha! [Shouts] Dasha! Pelageya! Dasha! [Rings.]

Oh! They've all gone out to pick fruit. . . . There's nobody at home! I'm ill! Water!

Get out of this, now

Can't you be more polite?

[Clenches her fists and stamps her foot] You're a boor! A coarse bear! A Bourbon! A monster!

What? What did you say?

I said you are a bear, a monster!

[Approaching her] May I ask what right you have to insult me?

And suppose I am insulting you? Do you think I'm afraid of you?

Pistols!

Do you think I'm afraid of you just because you have large fists and a bull's throat? Eh? You Bourbon!

We'll fight it out ! I'm not going to be insulted by anybody, and I don't care if you are a woman, one of the "softer sex," indeed!

[Trying to interrupt him] Bear! Bear! Bear!

It's about time we got rid of the prejudice that only men need pay for their insults. Devil take it, if you want equality of rights you can have it. We're going to fight it out!

With pistols? Very well!

This very minute.

This very minute! My ex had some pistols. . . . I'll bring them here. [Is going, but turns back]

What pleasure it will give me to put a bullet into your thick head! Devil take you! [Exit.]

I'm almost ready to let the debt go . . . and I'm not angry any longer. . . . Wonderful woman!

Here are the pistols. . . . But before we fight you must show me how to fire. I've never held a pistol in my hands before.

You must hold the revolver like this. . . . [Aside] Her eyes, her eyes! What an inspiring woman!

Like this?

The great thing is to keep cool and aim steadily. . . . Try not to jerk your arm.

Very well. . . . It's inconvenient to shoot in a room, let's go into the garden.

Come along then. But I warn you, I'm going to fire in the air.

That's the last straw! Why?

Because . . . because . . . it's my affair.

Are you afraid? Yes? Ah! No, sir, you don't get out of it! You come with me! I shan't have any peace

until I've made a hole in your forehead . . . that forehead which I hate so much! Are you afraid?

Yes, I am afraid.

You lie! Why won't you fight?

Because . . . because you . . . because I like you.

[Laughs] He likes me! He dares to say that he likes me! [Points to the door] That's the way.

Devil take it, how I'm smashing up your furniture! I like you! Do you understand? I . . . I almost love you!

Get away from me. I hate you!

God, what a woman! I've never in my life seen one like her! I'm lost! Done for! Fallen into a

mousetrap, like a mouse!

Stand back, or I'll fire!

I own some fine horses. . . . Will you be my wife?

[Indignantly shakes her revolver] Let's fight! Let's go out!

I'm mad. . . . I understand nothing. [Yells] Waiter, water!

[Yells] Let's go out and fight!

I offer you my hand. Yes or no? You don't want me? Very well! [Gets up and quickly goes to the door.]

Stop.

[Stops] Well?

Nothing, go away. . . No, stop. . . . No, go away, go away! I hate you! Or no. . . . Don't go away! Oh,

if you knew how angry I am, how angry I am! [Throws her revolver on the table] My fingers have swollen

because of all this. . . . [Tears her handkerchief in temper] What are you waiting for? Get out!

Good−bye.

Yes, yes, go away! . . . [Yells] Where are you going? Stop. . . . No, go away. Oh, how angry I am! Don't come near me, don't come near me!

I shall never forgive myself for this. . . .

Get away from me! Take your hands away! I hate you! Let's go and fight!

Little fathers!

Luka, tell them in the stables that Toby isn't to have any oats at all to−day.