Ivanov

es. And this love affair’s a cliché as well. It sounds like a bad novel. ‘He lost heart and he began sinking down, down… No-one could reach him until she appeared, strong and spirited and held out her hand for him to cling to.’
SASHA: But this is life. Whether you like it or not.
IVANOV: You’ve such a sensitive understanding of life… I start whining and you’re awestruck. You think I’m Hamlet but I’d say all I deserve is to be laughed at; nothing else. People should laugh at me until they drop, but you – you raise the alarm, crying out in concern. You want to save me, to do your good deed for the day… My God, why am I so angry today? I want to smash something or…
SASHA: Do it. Smash something, break something, start shouting. Get angry with me. I was stupid to come here. Go on. (Pause) Well?
IVANOV: You make me laugh sometimes.
SASHA: I saw you smile. I did. Come on. Smile again.
IVANOV: (Laughs) Whenever you talk about saving me you have this naïve expression on your face and your pupils dilate – as though you were staring at a comet. Wait a moment. You’ve dust on your shoulder. (Brushes dust from her shoulder) If a man’s healthy, strong and cheerful you pay him no attention at all but as soon as he’s started sliding downhill you drape yourself around his neck. Isn’t it better to be the wife of a strong and brave man, than the sick-nurse of a failure?
SASHA: No, it’s worse.
IVANOV: (Laughs) It’s a good thing Darwin can’t hear you – he’d have something to say about that. You’re damaging the human race. Soon there’ll only be moaners and neurotics born into this world.
SASHA: There are so many things you don’t understand. Men are taken up with work – love for them is something in the background. But for us, love is life. I love you and that means that I dream constantly of how I’ll cure you of your unhappiness, of following you to the ends of the earth… If you climb a mountain, I’ll climb it too. If you fall into the abyss, so will I. To sit up at night copying out your papers; to keep watch over you so you sleep undisturbed; to walk on foot with you for miles and miles. At threshing time, three years ago, you came to see us. You were exhausted, sunburnt, covered in dust and you asked for a drink. When I came back with the glass, you’d fallen fast asleep on the sofa. You slept for twelve hours and I stood by the door the whole time and kept watch. What a wonderful feeling that was. The more effort you put in, the better love is… I mean you feel it more strongly.

ANNA: Nikolay does. (Pause.) And I’ve started to be amazed at how unfair people can be. Why don’t they respond to love with love; why do they pay back truth with lies? My mother and father – how long are they going to go on hating me? They live forty miles away and day and night, even while I’m sleeping, I can feel their hatred. And what do I make of Nikolay’s depression? He says it’s worse in the evenings – it grinds him down and he stops loving me. I understand and can accept it but what if he stops loving me altogether? What if it ends just like that? No, I don’t want to even think about it. (Sings.) ‘Little siskin, little siskin, where have you been?’ (She shudders) I have such awful thoughts sometimes… You’re not married, doctor, there’s a lot you don’t understand…
LVOV: You say you’re amazed… No, it’s… I’m amazed. That you – an intelligent, decent woman have allowed yourself to be deceived; dragged into this pit of snakes. Why? What have you in common with that cold, heartless man? Why this sterile, vulgar environment. That half-crazed old count who never stops grum