Uncle Vanya by Anton Chekhov
MARINA:
Man is forgetful, but God remembers.
.....
VOITSKI:
But I'll tell you something; the man has been
writing on art for twenty-five years, and he doesn't know the very first thing about it. For twenty-five years he
has been chewing on other men's thoughts about realism, naturalism, and all such foolishness; for twenty-five
years he has been reading and writing things that clever men have long known and stupid ones are not
interested in; for twenty-five years he has been making his imaginary mountains out of molehills. And just
think of the man's self-conceit and presumption all this time! For twenty-five years he has been masquerading
in false clothes and has now retired absolutely unknown to any living soul; and yet see him! stalking across
the earth like a demi-god!
.....
HELENA:
Do you know, Ivan, the
reason you and I are such friends? I think it is because we are both lonely and unfortunate. Yes, unfortunate.
Don't look at me in that way, I don't like it.
VOITSKI:
How can I look at you otherwise when I love you? You are my joy, my life, and my youth. I know
that my chances of being loved in return are infinitely small, do not exist, but I ask nothing of you. Only let
me look at you, listen to your voice--
.....
VOITSKI:
Help me first to make peace with myself. My darling! [Seizes her hand.]
HELENA:
Let go! [She drags her hand away] Go away!
VOITSKI:
Soon the rain will be over, and all nature will sigh and awake refreshed. Only I am not refreshed
by the storm. Day and night the thought haunts me like a fiend, that my life is lost for ever. My past does not
count, because I frittered it away on trifles, and the present has so terribly miscarried! What shall I do with my
life and my love? What is to become of them? This wonderful feeling of mine will be wasted and lost as a ray
of sunlight is lost that falls into a dark chasm, and my life will go with it.
HELENA:
I am as it were benumbed when you speak to me of your love, and I don't know how to answer
you. Forgive me, I have nothing to say to you. [She tries to go out] Good-night!
VOITSKI:
[Barring the way] If you only knew how I am tortured by the thought that beside me in this house
is another life that is being lost forever--it is yours! What are you waiting for? What accursed philosophy
stands in your way? Oh, understand, understand---
HELENA:
[Looking at him intently] Ivan, you are drunk!
VOITSKI:
Perhaps. Perhaps.
.....
VOITSKI:
[To SONIA, stroking her hair] Oh, my child, I am miserable; if you only knew how miserable I
am!
SONIA:
What can we do? We must live our lives. [A pause] Yes, we shall live, Uncle Vanya. We shall live
through the long procession of days before us, and through the long evenings; we shall patiently bear the trials
that fate imposes on us; we shall work for others without rest, both now and when we are old; and when our
last hour comes we shall meet it humbly, and there, beyond the grave, we shall say that we have suffered and
wept, that our life was bitter, and God will have pity on us. Ah, then dear, dear Uncle, we shall see that bright
and beautiful life; we shall rejoice and look back upon our sorrow here; a tender smile--and--we shall rest. I
have faith, Uncle, fervent, passionate faith.
We shall rest. We shall rest. We
shall hear the angels. We shall see heaven shining like a jewel. We shall see all evil and all our pain sink away
in the great compassion that shall enfold the world. Our life will be as peaceful and tender and sweet as a
caress. I have faith; I have faith. My poor, poor Uncle Vanya, you are crying!
You have never known what happiness was, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait! We shall rest.
We shall rest.
(The curtain slowly falls.)