PAGE 8
The Proposal
by
CHUBUKOV.
I’m sick!… I can’t breathe!… Air!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA.
He’s dead.
[Pulls LOMOV’S sleeve]
Ivan Vassilevitch! Ivan Vassilevitch! What have you done to me? He’s dead.
[Falls into an armchair]
A doctor, a doctor!
[Hysterics.]
CHUBUKOV.
Oh!… What is it? What’s the matter?
NATALYA STEPANOVNA.
[Wails]
He’s dead… dead!
CHUBUKOV.
Who’s dead?
[Looks at LOMOV]
So he is! My word! Water! A doctor!
[Lifts a tumbler to LOMOV’S mouth]
Drink this!… No, he doesn’t drink…. It means he’s dead, and all that…. I’m the most unhappy of men! Why don’t I put a bullet into my brain? Why haven’t I cut my throat yet? What am I waiting for? Give me a knife! Give me a pistol! [LOMOV moves] He seems to be coming round…. Drink some water! That’s right….
LOMOV.
I see stars… mist…. Where am I?
CHUBUKOV.
Hurry up and get married and–well, to the devil with you! She’s willing!
[He puts LOMOV’S hand into his daughter’s]
She’s willing and all that. I give you my blessing and so on. Only leave me in peace!
LOMOV.
[Getting up]
Eh? What? To whom?
CHUBUKOV.
She’s willing! Well? Kiss and be damned to you!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA.
[Wails]
He’s alive… Yes, yes, I’m willing….
CHUBUKOV.
Kiss each other!
LOMOV.
Eh? Kiss whom?
[They kiss]
Very nice, too. Excuse me, what’s it all about? Oh, now I understand… my heart… stars… I’m happy. Natalya Stepanovna….
[Kisses her hand]
My foot’s gone to sleep….
NATALYA STEPANOVNA.
I… I’m happy too….
CHUBUKOV.
What a weight off my shoulders…. Ouf!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA.
But… still you will admit now that Guess is worse than Squeezer.
LOMOV.
Better!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA.
Worse!
CHUBUKOV.
Well, that’s a way to start your family bliss! Have some champagne!
LOMOV.
He’s better!
NATALYA STEPANOVNA.
Worse! worse! worse!
CHUBUKOV.
[Trying to shout her down]
Champagne! Champagne!
[Curtain.]