UNCLE VANYA
A monologue from the
play by Anton
Chekhov
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from The Moscow Arts Theatre Series of Plays. Ed. Oliver
M. Sayler. New York: Brentanos, 1922. |
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VOINITSKY: It was ten years ago that I met her first,
at her late sister's home. She was seventeen and I thirty-seven.
Why didn't I fall in love with her then and propose to her? It
would have been so easy! And if I had, she would now be my wife.
Yes, to-night's thunderstorm would have wakened us both. But
I would have held her in my arms and whispered: "Don't be
afraid! I am here." Oh, bewitching dream, so sweet that
I smile when I think of it. [He laughs.] God! My head
reels! Why am I so old? Why won't she understand me? I despise
all that rhetoric of hers, that indolent morality, that absurd
talk about the destruction of the world-- [A pause.] Oh,
how I have been deceived! For years I have worshipped that miserable
gout-ridden professor. Sonya and I have milked this estate dry
for his sake. We have sold our butter and curds and wheat like
misers, and never kept a bit for ourselves, so that we could
scrape together enough pennies to send to him. I was proud of
him and his learning; I thought all his words and writings were
inspired. And now? Now he has retired, and what is the grand
total of his life? A blank! He is absolutely unknown, and his
fame has burst like a soap-bubble. I have been deceived; I see
that now, grossly deceived.
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MONOLOGUES BY ANTON CHEKHOV |
