Online Read Free Novel
  • Home
  • Romance & Love
  • Fantasy
  • Science Fiction
  • Mystery & Detective
  • Thrillers & Crime
  • Actions & Adventure
  • History & Fiction
  • Horror
  • Western
  • Humor

    Man From the USSR & Other Plays

    Prev Next


      LYUBOV’

      No.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      That it is something halfway between a poem in prose and prose in verse. I think it was a compliment. What do you say?

      LYUBOV’

      Of course it was a compliment.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      And did you like it?

      LYUBOV’

      Very much.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      Only some parts or the whole thing?

      LYUBOV’

      The whole thing, the whole thing. Mummy, in a moment I’m going to burst into tears. Please go to bed.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      Would you like some of my drops?

      LYUBOV’

      I don’t want anything. I want to die.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      You know what your mood reminds me of?

      LYUBOV’

      Please, Mummy....

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      No, it’s a strange thing.... You were nineteen, and crazy about Barbashin, and would come home more dead than alive, and I was afraid to say a word to you.

      LYUBOV’

      In that case you ought to be afraid now, too.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      Promise me you won’t do anything rash or unreasonable. Promise me, Lyubinka!

      LYUBOV’

      Is it any of your business? Stop nagging me.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      I am not afraid of the same thing as Alyosha. I fear something very different.

      LYUBOV’

      And I’m telling you: leave me alone! You live in your world, and I live in mine. Let’s not try to set up interplanetary communications. Nothing will come of it anyway.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      I am very sad that you withdraw into yourself like this. I often think you are unfair toward Alyosha. You have to admit he is a very good man and worships you.

      LYUBOV’

      What is this, a tactical maneuver?

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      No, it’s just that I keep remembering certain things.... Your insanity at the time, and what Father used to say to you.

      LYUBOV’

      Good night.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      And now somehow it’s happening all over again. May the good Lord help you overcome it this time, too.

      LYUBOV’

      Stop it, stop it, stop it.... It’s you yourself who are involving me in some turbid, viscous, trite staging of the senses. I don’t want it. What does it have to do with you? Alyosha plagues me with his fears, and you with yours. Leave me alone, both of you. Keep away from me. Who cares if for six years I’ve been squeezed and stretched until I turned into some kind of gazelle-like provincial vamp, huge eyes and nothing else? I don’t want it. And, furthermore, what right do you have to interrogate me? After all, you really couldn’t care less—you just gather momentum and then can’t stop....

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      Just one question, then I’ll go to bed: are you going to see him?

      LYUBOV’

      I shall send the nurse with a note in French.7 I’ll fly to him. I’ll leave my husband. I’ll...

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      Lyuba, you’re ... you’re joking, aren’t you?

      LYUBOV’

      Yes. It’s a draft for the third act.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      I hope to God he has fallen out of love with you during these years—if not, we’re in for no end of trouble.

      LYUBOV’

      Mother, stop it! Stop, do you hear?

      (Troshcheykin enters from the right and turns back to speak in the direction of the door.)

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      In here, please....

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      (to Lyubov’)

      Good night. God bless you.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Why did you get stuck out there in the hallway? These are just old magazines, just rubbish—don’t bother with them.

      ANTONINA PAVLOVNA

      Good night, Alyosha.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Sleep well, sleep well, (toward the door) In here, please.

      (Antonina Pavlovna goes out. Enter Barboshin. He is wearing sporty clothes: a checked suit consisting of jacket and plus fours; but he has a tragic actor’s head, with long grayish-red hair. His movements are slow and sweeping. He is solemnly absentminded. He is a detective with a Dostoyevskian flawed soul. He enters, and bows deeply to Lyubov’.)

      BARBOSHIN

      I bow not to you, no, not to you, but to all wives who are deceived, strangled, and burned, and to the lovely adulteresses of the last century beneath their veils thick as night itself.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      This is my studio. The attempted murder took place in here. I fear that he will be attracted precisely to this room.

      BARBOSHIN

      You child! What enchanting, philistine naivete! No, the place of the crime attracted criminals only until that fact became the property of the general public. When a wild canyon becomes a resort, the eagles fly away, (with another deep bow to Lyubov’) I bow also to reticent wives, to pensive ones.... I bow to the enigma of womanhood....

      LYUBOV’

      Alyosha, what does this gentleman want from me?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      (softly)

      Don’t be afraid, everything is under control. This is the best man the local private detective agency could give me.

      BARBOSHIN

      Those who are in love should be advised that I have been trained to hear asides even more clearly than normal speech. This shoe has been bothering me for a long time, (pulls it off)

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      I also wanted you to investigate the window.

      BARBOSHIN

      (investigating the shoe)

      Just as I thought: a nail. Yes, you gave your spouse a correct description of me. This past spring I had a particularly successful season. A small hammer, or something.... All right, give me that.... Incidentally, I had one most interesting assignment right here on your street. A case of ultra-adultery, type B, Series 18. Unfortunately, for obvious reasons of professional ethics, I cannot name any names. But I’m sure you know her: Mrs. Tamara Grekov, age 23, blond, with pomeranian dog.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      The window, please....

      BARBOSHIN

      Excuse me for limiting myself to hints. The secret of the confessional. But back to business. What is it you don’t like about this excellent window?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Look: right next to it is a drainpipe up which it’s very easy to climb.

      BARBOSHIN

      The counter-client could break his neck.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      He’s agile as a monkey!

      BARBOSHIN

      In that case, I can suggest a certain secret method, employed infrequently but to good effect. You will be pleased. The thing to do is install a so-called False Comice, i.e., a cornice or window ledge that detaches at the slightest pressure. It comes with a three-year guarantee. Is the implication clear?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Yes, but how shall we go about it?...Workmen will be needed.... It’s late!

      BARBOSHIN

      Oh, it’s not so important; anyway, I’ll be walking under your windows until dawn, as we agreed. Incidentally, you’ll find it quite curious to watch how I do it. Instructive and fascinating. In short, only dunces walk to and fro like a pendulum. I do it this way. (walks) I walk in a preoccupied manner along one side of the street, then cross to the other on a reverse diagonal.... So.... And, just as preoccupied, walk along the other side. Thus, initially, you get the letter “N.” Then I traverse on the opposite diagonal, making a cross ... so ... returning to the point of departure, and then I repeat the whole process. Now: you see that I always move along both sidewalks in the same direction, thereby achieving inconspicuousness and naturalness. This is Dr. Rubini’s method. There are others.

      LYUBOV’

      Alyosha, send him home. He gives m
    e the creeps. I’m going to scream in a minute.

      BARBOSHIN

      There is absolutely no need to worry, Madam. You may go beddy-bye without a worry in the world, and, in case of insomnia, observe my movements from your window. There’s a full moon tonight, and it’ll be very effective. One further observation: I generally receive an advance, as the party under protection sometimes suddenly disappears for no reason at all.... But you are so beautiful, the night so moonlit, that I feel somehow embarrassed to broach the subject.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Well, thank you. This is all very comforting.

      BARBOSHIN

      What else.... Hey, listen, what about those paintings—are you sure they are not fakes?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      No, they are mine. Painted them myself.

      BARBOSHIN

      So they are fakes! You know, you really ought to consult an expert. Now tell me—what would you like me to undertake tomorrow?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Tomorrow morning, about eight, you’ll come up and see me. By the way, here’s the key. Then we’ll decide what to do next.

      BARBOSHIN

      I have grandiose plans! Did you know that I am able to eavesdrop on the counter-client’s thoughts? Yes, tomorrow I’ll be shadowing his intentions. What is his last name? I think you told me.... It began with “Sh.” Do you happen to remember?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Leonid Viktorovich Barbashin.

      BARBOSHIN

      No, no—don’t mix things up: the name is Barboshin, Al’fred Afanasyevich.

      LYUBOV’

      Can’t you see, Alyosha? He’s a sick man.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      The man who threatens us is named Barbashin.

      BARBOSHIN

      And I’m telling you my name is Barboshin. Al’fred Barboshin. Which is, incidentally, one of my many authentic names. Mmm—what marvelous plans! Oh, you’ll see! Life will be beautiful. Life will taste good. Birds will sing among the sticky young leaves, the blind shall hear, and the deaf-and-dumb shall see. Young women shall lift up their raspberry-colored infants to the sun. Yesterday’s enemies shall embrace each other. And the enemies of their enemies. And the enemies of their children. And the children of their enemies. You only have to believe.... Now give me a straight and simple answer: do you have a gun in the house?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      No, alas! I would have gotten one, but I don’t know how to use itl I’m afraid even to touch a gun. You must understand that I am an artist. I don’t know how to do anything.

      BARBOSHIN

      I recognize my youth in you. I was like that too—a poet, a student, a dreamer.... Under the chestnut trees of Heidelberg I loved an amazon.... But life has taught me many things. O.K. Let’s not stir up the past, (sings) “Well, shall we start....”8 All right—I’m off to walk beneath your windows, while over you hover Cupid, Morpheus, and little Valium. Tell me, Mister—you don’t happen to have a cigarette, do you?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      I’m a nonsmoker myself ... but I saw some somewhere.... Lyuba, Ryovshin forgot a pack here this morning. Where is it? Oh, here.

      BARBOSHIN

      It will cheer me up during my hours of vigil. Only take me out the back way, through the yard. It’s more proper that way.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Oh, in that case, this way please.

      BARBOSHIN

      (bowing deeply to Lyubov')

      I bow, also, to all the misunderstood...

      LYUBOV’

      All right, I’ll pass it on.

      BARBOSHIN

      I thank you.

      (leaves with Troshcheykin to the left Lyubov’ is alone for a few seconds. Troshcheykin returns hurriedly.)

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Matches! Where are the matches? He needs matches.

      LYUBOV’

      For God’s sake, get him out of here quick. Where is he?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      I left him on the back stairs. I’ll see him out and be back in a minute. Don’t worry. The matches!

      LYUBOV’

      There they are, right under your nose.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      I don’t know about you, Lyuba, but my spirits are a lot better after that conversation. He seems to be a great expert in his field, and there’s something very original and cozy about him. Don’t you think so?

      LYUBOV’

      As far as I’m concerned, he’s insane. Go.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Be right back.

      (Troshcheykin runs off to the left. Lyubov’ is alone for about three seconds. The doorbell rings. A tfirst she freezes, then quickly goes off to the right. The stage remains empty. Through the open door can be heard the voice of Meshaev Two, and presently he enters, carrying a basket of apples, and accompanied by Lyubov’. His appearance can be deduced from the following dialogue.)

      MESHAEV TWO

      So you’re sure I didn’t make a mistake? Mrs. Opayashin does live here?

      LYUBOV’

      Yes, she’s my mother.

      MESHAEV TWO

      Ah! Glad to know you.

      LYUBOV’

      You can put it here....

      MESHAEV TWO

      Oh, don’t bother—I’U just place it on the floor.... You see, my brother told me to come here as soon as I arrived. Is he here yet? Don’t tell me I’m the first guest?

      LYUBOV’

      Actually, we expected you in the afternoon, for tea. But that’s all right. Let me go look—I’m sure Mama isn’t asleep yet.

      MESHAEV TWO

      Oh my Lord—did I get it all wrong? What a mix-up! Forgive me.... I’m awfully embarrassed. Don’t wake her, please. Here, I’ve brought some apples—please give them to her, and ask her to excuse me. I’ll be running along....

      LYUBOV’

      No, no—I won’t hear of it. Do sit down. If only she’s not asleep, she’ll be very glad.

      (Troshcheykin enters and stops in his tracks.)

      LYUBOV’

      Alyosha, this is Osip Mikheyevich’s brother.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Brother? Oh, yes, of course. Welcome.

      MESHAEV TWO

      I feel so guilty....I don’t have the honor of knowing Mrs. Opayashin personally. But a few days ago I informed Osip that I would be coming here on business, and yesterday he answers to shoot right over from the station to the birthday party—we’ll meet there, he says.

      LYUBOV’

      I’ll go tell her right away, (goes out)

      MESHAEV TWO

      Since I’d written him that I was coming on the evening express train, I naturally concluded from his answer that Mrs. Opayashin’s party was in the evening, too. Either I wrote him the wrong arrival time or he didn’t pay attention to my letter, which is more likely. Hell of a shame. So you must be her son?

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Son-in-law.

      MESHAEV TWO

      Ah, the husband of this charming lady. So. I see you’re amazed by my resemblance to my brother.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Oh, well, you know-nothing could amaze me today. I’m in bad trouble....

      MESHAEV TWO

      Yes, everybody’s complaining. If only you lived in the country!

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      Actually, the resemblance is amazing.

      MESHAEV TWO

      Today, quite by chance, I ran into a jokester I hadn’t seen since I was a boy. He once made a comment to the effect that both I and my brother were played by one and the same actor, only in the part of my brother he was good, and in mine he was bad.

      TROSHCHEYKIN

      You seem to be balder.

      MESHAEV TWO

     


    Prev Next
Online Read Free Novel Copyright 2016 - 2025