impressionable.
Karandyshov. In that case please forgive me.
Larisa. All right, only in the future be more careful. (Thoughtfully.) Gypsy camp… Yes, that’s true… but in that camp have been some good and noble people.
Karandyshov. What noble people? You don’t perhaps mean Sergey Sergeyich Paratov?
Larisa. No, please, don’t speak of him.
Karandyshov. And why not?
Larisa. You don’t know him, and even if you did know him, well… forgive me, but it’s not for you to pass judgment on him.
Karandyshov. People are judged by their actions. Do you think he acted well with you?
Larisa. That’s my affair. If I’m afraid to, if I don’t dare to pass judgment on him, then I’m not going to let you do it.
Karandyshov. Larisa Dmitriyevna, tell me something. Only please, speak frankly.
Larisa. What is it?
Karandyshov. How am I any worse than Paratov?
Larisa. Oh no, don’t ask that!
Karandyshov. But why not?
Larisa. Better not, better not! How can there be any comparison!
Karandyshov. That’s what I’d like to hear from you.
Larisa. Don’t ask, there’s no need!
Karandyshov. But why not?
Larisa. Because the comparison will not be to your advantage. By yourself you have value, you’re a good and honest man. But in comparison with Sergey Sergeyich you lose everything.
Karandyshov. But those are just words, we need proof. Give him and me a real analysis.
Larisa. Do you know the man you’re comparing yourself with! How can you be so blind! Sergey Sergeyich… is the ideal man. Do you understand what ideal is? Maybe I’m wrong, I’m still young and don’t know people, but it will be impossible to change this opinion in me, it will die with me.
Karandyshov. I just can’t understand what’s so special about him, I don’t see anything. There’s a certain boldness, an impudence. But anybody can have that if he wants.
Larisa. And do you know what boldness is?
Karandyshov. Whatever it is, what’s so wonderful about it? All it takes is putting on airs.
Larisa. To show what it is I’ll tell you something that happened. There was an officer from the Caucasus passing through here, an acquaintance of Sergey Sergeyich, and he was a wonderful shot. They were both at our place, and Sergey Sergeyich says to him, “I hear you’re a wonderful shot.” “Yes, not bad,” says the officer. Sergey Sergeyich gives him a pistol, puts a glass on his own head, and he goes off to another room, about twelve steps away. “Shoot,” he says.
Karandyshov. And he shot?
Larisa. He shot, and, of course, he knocked off the glass, only he turned a little pale. Sergey Sergeyich says, “You shoot beautifully, but you turned pale, and you were shooting at a man, and a man not close to you. Look, I’m going to shoot at a young woman who’s dearer to me than anything in the world, and I won’t turn pale.” He gives me a coin to hold, and, with indifference and a smile, he shoots from the same distance and hits it.
Karandyshov. And you obeyed him?
Larisa. How could I do anything else?
Karandyshov. You really had so much confidence in him?
Larisa. How can you ask! How could I not have confidence in him?
Karandyshov. He has no heart, that’s why he’s so bold.
Larisa. No, he has a heart too. I saw myself how he helped the poor, how he gave away all the money he had on him.
Karandyshov. So, let’s grant that Paratov has some virtues, at least in your eyes, but what about this petty merchant, this Vasya of yours?
Larisa. You’re not being jealous, are you? No, you stop all this nonsense. It’s degrading, and I won’t tolerate it, I’m telling you in advance. Don’t worry, I’m not in love with anybody, and I won’t fall in love with anybody.
Karandyshov. But what if Paratov should show up?
Larisa. Of course, if Paratov should show up and were free, then it would take only one look from him… But you can set your mind at ease, he hasn’t showed up, and even if he should show up now, it’s already too late. We’ll probably never see each other again.
A cannon shot on the Volga.
What’s that?
Karandyshov. Some high and mighty merchant is coming in, so they’re firing a salute in his honor.
Larisa. Oh, how it frightened me!
Karandyshov. Why, why should it?
Larisa. My nerves are upset. Just now I was looking down from this bench, and I began to get dizzy. Could one hurt oneself here very much?
Karandyshov. Hurt oneself! Here it’s sure death, it’s paved with stone below. And it’s so high here you’d die before you hit the bottom.
Larisa. Let’s go home, it’s time.
Karandyshov. I have to go too, I have that dinner, you know.
Larisa (going to the railing). Wait awhile. (She looks below.) Oh, oh, hold on to me!
Karandyshov (takes Larisa by the arm). Come on, you’re just being childish!
They leave. Gavrilo and Ivan enter from the coffee house.
Ivan. The cannon! The gentleman’s come, the gentleman’s come, Sergey Sergeyich.
Gavrilo. I told you it was him. I know-you can tell a falcon by its flight.
Ivan. The carriage is coming uphill empty. That means the gentlemen are coming on foot. There they are! (He runs off into the coffee house.)
Gavrilo. Welcome to them. I wish I could figure out what to treat them with.
Paratov enters. He is wearing a single-breasted, close-fitting, black frock coat, varnished high boots, a white service cap; across his shoulder is a traveling bag. With him are Robinson (wearing a cloak, the right flap
