Oblomov--Ivan Goncharov

Adapted from the novel By F. J. MORLOCK

  • Note:
  • Act I
  • Act II
  • Act III
  • Note:

    A point of interest is that in the 19th century the term 
    "Oblomovism" passed into the vocabulary to describe a kind of 
    helpless nobleman who couldn't "do" anything, but lived a life 
    of torpor. 
    This Etext is for private use only. No republication for profit in 
    print or other media may be made without the express consent of the 
    Copyright Holder. The Copyright Holder is especially concerned about 
    performance rights in any media on stage, cinema, or television, or 
    audio or any other media, including readings for which an entrance fee 
    or the like is charge. Permissions should be addressed to: Frank 
    Morlock, 6006 Greenbelt Rd, #312, Greenbelt, MD 20770, USA or 
    frankmorlock@msn.com. Other works by this author may be found at 
    
    http://www.cadytech.com/dumas/personnage.asp?key=130
    
    Act I.
      Scene 1.  Oblomov's bedroom in St. Petersburg, the first of May.
    
    Act II.
      Scene 1.  The same, a few days later.
      Scene 2.  The same, a few days later.
      Scene 3.  The same, early next morning.
    
    Act III.
      Scene 1.  Madame Pshenitsyn's, four months later.
      Scene 2.  The same, the next day.
      Scene 3.  The same, about eight months later.
    
    
    The action takes place in nineteenth century Russia.
    
    Characters:
    
    Oblomov, around thirty years of age
    Zakhar, an old serf about fifty years of age
    Alekseyev, a well-dressed man about Oblomov's age
    Stolz, a vigorous man of about thirty
    Tarantyev, a large overbearing man
    Olga Sergeyevna, a handsome woman, a few years older than Oblomov
    Madame Pshenitsyn, "Katrinka" a doll-like woman, with very little 
                        intellect, but an excellent housekeeper and mother
    

    Act I

    Scene 1

    Oblomov's bedroom, late morning. To the audience's left, a large four- poster bed in which Oblomov is blissfully sleeping. To the far left, a door leading to the street. To the right of the bed, against the far wall, a desk. To the right, a door leading into the rest of the house. A couch and table to the right of the bed. The house is quiet. Oblomov stirs, stretches, and to his surprise finds himself fully awake. He starts to rise, even putting one foot out of bed, then, as if shocked by his own temerity, pulls it back again. Cautiously, he begins to move again.

    Oblomov
    Enough of this! Time to get to work. It's almost noon. (despite these vigorous words, Oblomov barely stirs) Now or never, as Stolz would say. (with great effort he sits up) Yahh! (yawning) If only Stolz were here. (lies back down) It's still early. (pause) Zakhar! (pause) Zakhar! (irritated, he sits up) Now where is that lazy fellow? . . . I have to do everything myself! (he puts a naked foot out, touching the cold floor, and recoils, trembling) Zakhar! Zakhar!

    (Entering from the right is an old serf. Not particularly lazy, but by no means a bundle of energy. He is dressed rather shabbily. He has taken care of Oblomov since Oblomov was a child. Zakhar is irascible, as any man would be who has spent most of his adult life waiting on a child, but it is obvious that he retains affection for Oblomov.)

    Zakhar (grumbling) Zakhar, Zakhar, Zakhar! That's all I ever hear. For thirty years! When will he ever learn to do anything for himself like other people? (to Oblomov) Well? What do you want now?

    Oblomov (shrieking) My slippers! You know I can't get out of bed without my slippers.

    Zakhar
    Your slippers?

    Oblomov
    My slippers. What have you done with them this time?

    Zakhar
    Me? Done with your slippers?

    Oblomov
    Yes, you. You always do this to me.

    Zakhar
    I never touched your slippers. You had them on last night.

    Oblomov
    That's what you always say. No more excuses.

    Zakhar
    Hmm.

    Oblomov
    Don't just stand there . . . find them!

    Zakhar
    O Lord—when will my sufferings cease? (spotting the slippers under the bed) There they are!

    Oblomov
    Where?

    Zakhar
    Right there. You kicked them under the bed.

    Oblomov
    Well, put them on for me, can't you? You're preventing me from getting out of bed.

    Zakhar
    Couldn't you do that yourself?

    Oblomov
    So! You're being impudent again.

    Zakhar
    Impudent! Me?

    Oblomov
    Yes, you. You know very well your job is to take care of me.

    Zakhar
    I suppose you couldn't do it?

    Oblomov (innocently) Of course not. You know very well, I can't do anything by myself.

    Zakhar
    Oh, very well. Here. (putting on Oblomov's slippers)

    Oblomov
    Thank you. Next time, mind where you put them.

    Zakhar
    Argghh!

    Oblomov
    I really don't know how I put up with your laziness. You're lucky I'm good natured.

    Zakhar
    Do you want to eat now?

    Oblomov
    Not yet. I haven't bathed yet. I always bathe before I eat.

    Zakhar
    You mean, I always take a bath for you, before I feed you. Do you want your bath, then?

    Oblomov (considering, it's a difficult decision) Hmm. It's still a little early. But, I'm getting hungry and I have to bathe before I eat, hmm. What shall I do? (pause) Well?

    Zakhar
    Well, what?

    Oblomov
    Do I have to tell you every time? Can't you remember anything? I'll bathe.

    Zakhar (furious) Oh, very well.

    (Oblomov begins to remove his long, flowing Persian gown, while Zakhar places a screen in front of him. Zakhar goes out and returns with a portable tub.)

    Oblomov
    I don't understand why Zakhar is so lazy, so slow in doing the simplest thing. It's beyond me how anybody can be like that. Brr! It's cold. (puts his robe back on)

    Zakhar
    Get in.

    Oblomov
    But, there's no water.

    Zakhar
    Get in, and I'll put the water in.

    Oblomov
    Put the water in first then, I'll get in.

    Zakhar
    O Lord! (goes out and returns with several buckets of water which are splashing all over the place) Now, get in.

    Oblomov
    Wait! I have to take off my robe.

    Zakhar
    All right.

    Oblomov
    Aiee! This water is too hot!

    Zakhar
    I'll fix that. (more splashing)

    Oblomov
    That's better. (Zakhar starts to leave) Where are you going?

    Zakhar
    What's the use of standing here while you're bathing?

    Oblomov
    Don't leave me alone. You always want to leave me alone. Can't you wait a little?

    Zakhar
    All right. I'll wait.

    Oblomov
    Where did you put that letter I received yesterday? Scrub my back.

    Zakhar
    What letter?

    Oblomov
    The one you gave me. To the left a little. Ahh—

    Zakhar
    I gave it to you? How should I know what you did with it?

    Oblomov (petulantly) You never know anything. Look behind the sofa. Just look at that sofa. Still unrepaired. Why don't you have it fixed? Aiee! Don't scrub so hard. Go look for it right now.

    Zakhar
    I didn't break the sofa. It broke by itself. Things can't last forever.

    (Zakhar, without drying his hands, proceeds to look for the letter, leaving stains all over the place.)

    Oblomov
    Haven't you found it yet?

    (Zakhar finds some old letters wedged in behind a book. He brings them to Oblomov.)

    Zakhar
    Here's some kind of letters.

    Oblomov
    No, these are five years old. Now, help me out of the bath.

    Zakhar (washing is hands of the whole affair) Well, that's all there are. (he rubs Oblomov down)

    Oblomov
    Get out, I'll find it myself. (Zakhar helps Oblomov on with his robe and, offended, by Oblomov's remark, starts to leave) Where are you going now? (back in bed)

    Zakhar
    What torture. I wish I were dead. What is it now?

    Oblomov
    My handkerchief. Why do you always have to be told?

    Zakhar
    How should I know where your dirty handkerchief is? Maybe it's in your gown someplace. (pointing to the sumptuous folds of Oblomov's gown)

    Oblomov (upset) You always lose everything. This time you're got to look everywhere.

    (This Zakhar proceeds to do, pulling out drawers, looking under the bed, etc. Oblomov grows more and more petulant. Finally, Zakhar spots a corner of it under Oblomov.

    Zakhar
    Ha! (angrily) There it is! Underneath you. You're lying on top of it and you want me to find it. (menacingly) Is this one of your tricks?

    (Oblomov, realizing he has been in the wrong, finds something else to blame Zakhar for.)

    Oblomov
    How spotless you keep everything! The dust! The dirt!

    Zakhar
    What dust? What dirt? I sweep almost every day, see—it's clean. (pointing to the chair and table) What more do you want?

    Oblomov (pointing to the walls) What about that? (pointing to the ceiling) And that? And (triumphantly) that! (pointing to the remains of a meal, dishes and a bottle on the table)

    Zakhar
    Well, I suppose I could take this away.

    Oblomov
    Is that all? What about the dust on the walls? And the cobwebs?

    Zakhar
    I do all that before Easter.

    Oblomov
    And the books and the pictures?

    Zakhar
    Books and pictures, before Christmas.

    Oblomov
    Don't you know that dust breeds moths? I sometimes even see bedbugs and roaches on the wall.

    Zakhar (indifferently) And I've got fleas.

    Oblomov
    Disgusting!

    Zakhar
    Is it my fault there are bugs in the world? Do you think I invented them?

    Oblomov
    It's because of the dirt.

    Zakhar
    Did I invent dirt?

    Oblomov
    And you've got mice in here. I hear them running about at night.

    Zakhar
    I didn't invent mice either—mice—moths—bedbugs—there's plenty of them everywhere—

    Oblomov
    And, why is it other people don't have them, if you please?

    Zakhar (with calm conviction) They've got em, too.

    Oblomov
    Nonsense.

    Zakhar
    They just hide it from outsiders.

    Oblomov
    You sweep, clean the filth from out of the corners, and there won't be any.

    Zakhar
    You can't go crawling into the cracks after every bug you see.— Besides, clean up dirt today, and it will be back again tomorrow.

    Oblomov
    If it is—sweep it up again.

    Zakhar
    Surely, you're mad. Every day—like a scullery maid. I'd rather be dead.

    Oblomov
    Why are other people's houses clean? Look at those Germans across the street.

    Zakhar (with great contempt) And, where would such people get dirt from? The way they live.

    Oblomov
    It's no good talking. You'd better start cleaning up.

    Zakhar
    Many a time I would have done it. It's you who won't let me.

    Oblomov
    There you go again! Blame me.

    Zakhar
    Of course, I blame you. Who else? How am I going to clean this place up with you always lying in bed? Why don't you go out for the afternoon like other people—?

    Oblomov
    What an idea. Why should I have to go out?

    Zakhar
    So I can clean up, of course. But, I'll need some women to help with the scrubbing.

    Oblomov
    What a fantastic idea. Hire some women! (the clock strikes eleven) It's eleven o'clock and I still haven't gotten up and shaved. Zakhar! Zakhar!

    Zakhar
    Now what?

    Oblomov
    Is the water ready for shaving?

    Zakhar
    It's been ready a long time; why don't you get up?

    Oblomov (ready with an excuse) Why didn't you ell me? I'd have got up long ago. But first, I've go to write a letter.

    Zakhar
    In that case, you may as well pay these bills.

    Oblomov (annoyed) What bills?

    Zakhar
    The butcher, the laundress, the greengrocer—they're all asking for money.

    Oblomov (petulantly) Couldn't you give me these bills one at a time, instead of all at once?

    Zakhar
    You—you're the one always says they can wait until tomorrow.

    Oblomov
    Well, and why can't they?

    Zakhar
    No—they're pestering me to death and they won't give me any more credit.

    Oblomov
    Nothing but money and trouble. Well, what are you standing there for? Put them on the table—I'll look at them after I bathe.— You say the water is ready?

    Zakhar
    It's ready— Oh, I forgot to tell you—the landlord says we must move.

    Oblomov
    Well, what of it? We'll move— You've already told me about moving three times.

    Zakhar
    That's true. But, we haven't moved, and the landlord says unless we move this time, he'll go to the police.

    Oblomov
    What a bother! We'll move as soon as the weather improves. In a month.

    Zakhar
    He says we must move by Wednesday—

    Oblomov
    What am I to do—? I don't want to hear any more about it. You take care of it.

    Zakhar
    And, what am I to do—?

    Oblomov
    That's your way of getting out of things! Ask me! As if I knew— Do whatever you like, so long as you arrange things so we don't have to move.

    Zakhar (in a pitiful state of confusion, whining) I don't see how you can avoid moving out of someone's house if they're putting you out—

    Oblomov (indignant) Why are you so helpless?

    (There is a knock at the door. Zakhar exits to admit a visitor. Zakhar returns)

    Zakhar
    There's someone to see you.

    Oblomov (annoyed) Can't you say I'm not here?

    Zakhar
    I already said you were in.

    Oblomov
    Well, tell him I'm sick or—

    Zakhar
    No.

    Oblomov
    No? Why not?

    Zakhar
    That would be the sin of lying.

    Oblomov
    But how can I see anyone so early in the day?

    Zakhar
    It's almost noon.

    Oblomov
    Besides, I have too many things to do.

    Zakhar
    Eh?

    Oblomov
    I can't have people just swarming around when I'm so busy. It's so much—(distastefully)—work, confusion. Who is it, anyway?

    Zakhar
    Mr. Alekseyev, your old friend from the office—

    Oblomov
    Oh, Alekseyev, hmm. If I didn't have so much to do, I'd really like to see him.

    (Enter Alekseyev, a man about Oblomov's age, but otherwise, a rather nondescript individual.)

    Alekseyev (extending his hands) How are you, Ilya? I hope I'm not disturbing you?

    Oblomov
    Don't come near! Don't come near! You've just come in from the cold.

    Alekseyev
    Not up yet! Why, it's nearly noon. What's that dressing gown you're wearing?

    (Alekseyev looks for a place to put his hat, but each time recoils because of the filth. Eventually, he holds his hat in his hand and ends up twirling it.)

    Oblomov
    It's not a dressing gown, it's a robe. But, why are you out so early?

    Alekseyev
    To see my tailor. How do you like my coat? (pirouetting around)

    Oblomov
    Splendid. But why so wide in the back?

    Alekseyev
    It's a riding coat.

    (Zakhar tries to take Alekseyev's hat and reluctantly Alekseyev gives it to him. Zakhar exits.)

    Oblomov (aghast) You mean you ride?

    Alekseyev
    Doesn't everyone?

    Oblomov
    Not quite everyone. I never do.

    Alekseyev (astounded) Really, why not? Shy of horses?

    Oblomov
    Oh, no. I like horses, but riding is so complicated.

    Alekseyev
    Complicated? Ha, ha. I never heard anyone say that—

    Oblomov
    Yes, you have to mount the horse from one side—I could never remember which it was.

    Alekseyev
    The left. The left.

    Oblomov
    To be sure. But I always forget. Besides, the horse had a tendency to move, and all that bouncing around. No, no, a sled or carriage is as much as I can manage.

    Alekseyev
    But there's nothing like riding, really.

    Oblomov
    Isn't it somewhat fatiguing?

    Alekseyev
    On the contrary, very invigorating. But the reason I came is that Misha Goryunov received his commission.

    Oblomov
    What of it?

    Alekseyev
    Of it? I've come to fetch you.

    Oblomov (apprehensively) To go where?

    Alekseyev
    Why, to Misha's.

    Oblomov (annoyed) What does he want with me?

    Alekseyev
    Why, he's invited you to dinner, and expressly detailed me to fetch you. And, afterwards to the park.

    Oblomov
    But, what is there to do there?

    Alekseyev
    Why, it's a holiday. There'll be fireworks and a parade. The royal family will be there.

    Oblomov
    Sit down and we'll think about it.

    Alekseyev
    Do get up.

    Oblomov
    Wait a bit. It's early.

    Alekseyev
    Since you won't ride, how shall we go—on foot or by carriage?

    Oblomov
    Well, neither.

    Alekseyev
    But, everyone will be there.

    Oblomov
    Not quite everyone.

    Alekseyev
    My dear, Ilya, the most attractive women will be there.

    Oblomov
    What should I do there?

    Alekseyev
    You could admire the ladies.

    Oblomov
    Me? Admire the ladies!! Ridiculous. But, why have you taken up with Misha Goryunov?

    Alekseyev
    You won't tell?

    Oblomov
    Word of honor.

    Alekseyev
    I'm in love with his sister, Olga.

    Oblomov
    Aha—I knew you had an ulterior motive for hanging around with that bore. So—it's the sister you like?

    Alekseyev (forgetting himself and sitting down) Yes, yes, the divine Olga. (remembering himself and jumping up) What a lot of dust. (brushing himself off fussily)

    Oblomov
    That's Zakhar!

    Alekseyev
    How about it?

    Oblomov
    How about what?

    Alekseyev
    Are you going to come?

    Oblomov (indolently) Oh, no. I've too much to do.

    Alekseyev
    By the way, have you read my poem?

    Oblomov
    Was it in the papers?

    Alekseyev
    No, in a magazine.

    Oblomov
    Then I haven't read it.

    Alekseyev
    It's entitled "The love of a swindler for a fallen woman."

    Oblomov
    Well, that's certainly an uplifting title. What's it about?

    Alekseyev
    It satirizes our whole society mercilessly— It has the ring of Swift —of Voltaire— A savage satire on vice.

    Oblomov
    How can there be poetry in that? Anyway, I find verse tiresome. Isn't writing poetry a little—difficult?

    Alekseyev
    Well, you've got to apply yourself—

    Oblomov
    When do you find time for it?

    Alekseyev
    Oh, late at night.

    Oblomov
    And you visit many people?

    Alekseyev
    Oh, not more than a dozen a day—

    Oblomov
    Unfortunate man. When do you stop to rest?

    Alekseyev
    Who wants to stop to rest? It's important to be in the swing of things.

    Oblomov
    But don't you find it a bother to go about day after day, ceaselessly?

    Alekseyev
    The things you say! Well, if you won't go, I must—

    Oblomov
    Wait! I want your advice about something.

    Alekseyev (glancing at his watch) No time. Another day. Why don't you have lunch with me on Friday? You can tell me about it then.

    Oblomov
    But that would mean I'd have to go out. Wait, please.

    Alekseyev
    All right. I've got a few minutes.

    Oblomov
    Zakhar! Zakhar!

    Zakhar (entering) What now?

    Oblomov
    Have you found that letter yet?

    Zakhar
    How am I to find it?

    Oblomov
    Oh, you're so helpless. Do I have to do everything myself?

    Zakhar (stomping around looking ineffectively for the letter here and there) When will this torture end?

    Alekseyev
    Ilya, since I'm here, it occurs to me, you know I've been promoted at the office, you know—

    Oblomov
    Yes, I've heard. Head of Department. My, my, congratulations. You deserve it. (Oblomov is never jealous, his congratulations are sincere)

    Alekseyev
    Thank you, Ilya— I knew you'd be pleased. But now, I've got twice as much to do as before.

    Oblomov
    Good Lord. There was plenty enough before.

    Alekseyev
    It's too bad you left.

    Oblomov
    Oh, I couldn't stand getting up practically every day of the week at the crack of dawn. Besides, I have so much work to do on my estate, that it was just too much—

    Alekseyev
    But, many people take care of their estates and hold down civil service jobs—

    Oblomov
    But, to go out in all kinds of weather simply to get to the office when one has enough to live on—it seems so unnecessary.

    Alekseyev
    Hmm. But you really did good work.

    Oblomov
    But, I never could keep up with the pace. There were always so many papers that had to be signed. No matter how much I did, no matter how furiously I drudged signing my name, the in-box always seemed to be full at the end of the day.

    Alekseyev (laughing) Sometimes I think you're serious.

    Oblomov
    Come, have dinner with me. We'll drink to your good luck.

    Alekseyev
    Can't. I've got to go to Misha's.

    Oblomov
    Bah Misha! Tell me what's new at the office while Zakhar is finding that letter.

    Alekseyev
    Oh, lots of things. We have to keep records in triplicate now. It's supposed to be a reform. Too much getting lost before.

    Oblomov
    That's true. I was always losing things. What about our former comrades?

    Alekseyev
    Not much. Grushaka is married. Svinkin lost a file of documents, and the Director says he did it on purpose.

    Oblomov
    Impossible. He wouldn't do that.

    Alekseyev
    It will turn up. But the Director is giving me a great deal of grief about it.

    Oblomov
    Well, I can see that you're kept busy. You really work.

    Alekseyev
    Terrible, terrible. But the Director's a very good man.

    Oblomov
    Is your salary good?

    Alekseyev
    Oh, very good. Twelve hundred roubles plus a travel allowance.

    Oblomov (getting out of bed) Not bad! Not bad! About as much as an opera star. Still, working from eight to five and then taking work home with you. Not for me.

    Alekseyev
    Actually, Ilya, I need an assistant, and I thought of you—

    Oblomov (flattered and horrified) Me? Whatever gave you that idea?

    Alekseyev
    Well, you know the work very well— There'd be no need to train you.

    Oblomov
    Yes, I know the work— (considering) — but——

    Alekseyev
    And, I thought you might prefer coming to work to being shut up here.

    Oblomov
    But, going to work is such a bother. It gets dark before it's time to go home. I hate going home in the dark.

    Alekseyev
    Well, if you like, you can leave early.

    Oblomov (protesting) But I'm managing my estate. It's a full time job. I'm working on a new plan—introducing improvements—agonizing work, really.

    Alekseyev
    Even a half day would be good. I could offer you a thousand roubles plus travel—

    Oblomov
    It's very generous, but impossible. This estate is a full time job, I assure you. I can hardly manage it with all the energy I devote to it.

    Alekseyev
    Think it over. You don't have to decide now.

    Oblomov
    I'll certainly think it over. But I'm just not an eight to five person.

    Alekseyev
    Who is? Think it over. I'll drop in again in a few days.

    Oblomov
    Do stay a little longer. I want your advice about this letter I received.

    Alekseyev
    Come on, get dressed. We'll go to Misha's and talk about the letter when we get back. Zakhar will have found the letter by then.

    Oblomov
    It's too early to get dressed.

    Alekseyev
    Early! Why, we're invited for dinner at two. Actually, if we don't hurry, we'll be late.

    Oblomov
    But, I can't dress. Zakhar hasn't pressed up my clothes yet.

    Alekseyev
    Well, tell him to do so. It won't take a minute. I'll just look around while you do. (walking around the room, looking at a picture, then a book, giving a little whistle, mildly disturbed by the dust)

    Oblomov (who has not stirred) Whatever are you doing?

    Alekseyev (amused) You're back in bed?

    Oblomov
    Is there any reason to get up?

    Alekseyev
    Of course. They're waiting for us. You wanted to go.

    Oblomov
    Go where? I don't want to go somewhere.

    Alekseyev
    See here, Ilya, we just agreed you'd go to Misha's and later to the Park—

    Oblomov
    Me? In this damp weather? I'd probably catch my death.

    Alekseyev
    It's the best weather we've had in months.

    Oblomov
    And, what is there to see? It's overcast.

    Alekseyev
    There's not a cloud in the sky. It only looks overcast because your windows haven't been washed properly.

    Oblomov
    Yes, and if you so much as mention it to Zakhar, he'll insist on hiring women to do it, and forcing me out of the house for a whole day.

    Alekseyev
    Well, what a splendid opportunity to hoist him on his own petard. Just come along to dinner and let him wash the place. He'll have no excuse—

    Oblomov (aghast) Leave the house?

    Alekseyev
    That's what one usually does when one goes out for dinner. Don't you want to go?

    Oblomov
    You keep coming back to the same thing! Why can't you stay here? Isn't it nice here?

    Alekseyev (guardedly) Oh, very nice, of course. (looking apprehensively for a clean place to sit)

    Oblomov
    Then, spend the day here, and have dinner with me. In the evening you can go to the Park. Oh, I completely forgot. Today is Saturday, and Tarantyev is coming to dine.

    Alekseyev
    Hmm, Tarantyev. (smothering distaste)

    Oblomov
    Now that you've decided to stay, I'll tell you about my affairs.

    Alekseyev (surprised) Your affairs?

    Oblomov
    Why do you suppose I am late rising? I've been THINKING!

    Alekseyev (even more surprised) Indeed?

    Oblomov
    I don't know what to do.

    Alekseyev
    What on earth has happened?

    Oblomov
    First, I'm being evicted, for no reason.

    Alekseyev
    Have you got a lease?

    Oblomov
    It's expired.

    Alekseyev
    What will you do?

    Oblomov
    Nothing.

    Alekseyev
    Nothing?

    Oblomov
    I don't even want to think about it. Zakhar will simply have to do something.

    Alekseyev
    Some people like to move.

    Oblomov
    Well, let them! I can not endure any sort of change. But, this is a minor problem. Wait till you see this letter, this terrible letter. Now, where can it be? Zakhar! Zakhar!

    Zakhar (entering) Oh, Mother of God, when will the Good Lord end my sufferings?

    Oblomov
    Haven't you found the letter?

    Zakhar
    How can I find it? You know I can't read.

    Oblomov
    Look for it anyway.

    Zakhar
    But I haven't seen it since yesterday—

    Oblomov
    Then, where is it? I haven't swallowed it. I remember precisely that you took the letter from me and put it—somewhere. Why can't you ever remember?

    Zakhar
    I think—have you looked under the blankets?

    (Zakhar gives the blanket a quick shake.)

    Oblomov
    So, that's where it is? Now, why did you put it there?

    Zakhar (finding the letter, outraged) Me! Me?

    Oblomov
    You'd forget your head if I wasn't here to ask you where you'd put it. Now, go make us some tea—

    Zakhar (going out) Jesus, Mary, and Joseph and all the Saints—

    Oblomov (giving the letter to Alekseyev) Here, read it.

    Alekseyev
    Hmmm—rambles a bit—crop failures—floods— Aha, so that's why he's beating around the bush. Two thousand roubles a year less than last year.

    Oblomov
    I'll die of starvation— What will I do— What will I live on?

    Alekseyev
    Well, it's a great loss. But, perhaps, things will work out? It's only an estimate.

    Oblomov
    Well, if it's only an estimate, why does he have to upset me in advance? Now I'll worry to death.

    Alekseyev
    These peasants have no tact.

    Oblomov
    Well, what would you do in my place?

    Alekseyev
    Perhaps you should go to your estate? Personally take charge—

    Oblomov
    Go to my estate. Personally take charge. What a thought!

    Alekseyev
    Well, it's only a suggestion.

    Oblomov
    Can't you think of something else? My estate is so far away— If only Stolz would come. Stolz always knows what to do.

    Alekseyev
    Stolz—hmmm——

    (Suddenly there is a violent knocking at the door. Both jump.)

    Alekseyev
    Speak of the devil, I guess.

    Oblomov
    No, no. Stolz doesn't ring like that. It's Tarantyev.

    Alekseyev (trembling) Tarantyev.

    (Enter Tarantyev. His booming voice is heard off: "Well, is he home?" He sounds like Zeus the Thunderer himself. Zakhar's voice: "Does he ever go out?" Tarantyev is tall, heavy-set, bearded, coarse, slovenly, and powerful as a bear. He is indifferent to personal grooming and clothes style. He is hostile and cynical. His gestures are bold and sweeping—and he always makes a great commotion, for he loves noise. He is a proletarian and proud of it. When he enters, Alekseyev cringes into a corner and is completely ignored by Tarantyev, who goes directly to Oblomov.)

    Oblomov
    Ah, Tarantyev.

    Tarantyev
    Greetings, friend. And why are you lying in bed at this hour? (approaching the bed and holding out a hairy paw)

    Oblomov
    Don’t come near! Don't come near! You've just come in from the cold!

    Tarantyev
    What do you mean cold! Come, take a hand when it's offered to you. (grabbing Oblomov's hand in a crushing grip and pumping it vigorously) Come, now—before I lift you out myself.

    Oblomov (hurriedly sitting up and putting his feet in his slippers) I was just getting up.

    Tarantyev
    I know you were getting up: you'd be lying there till dinner time. Hey, Zakhar, you old wretch. Come dress your master, and be quick about it.

    Zakhar (entering) Who are you calling a wretch? (with a malevolent stare) You've tracked up the floor with mud like a peddler.

    Tarantyev
    The monster still talks too much. (aiming a lazy but powerful kick at Zakhar)

    Zakhar (furious) You just try touching me! I'm going— (Zakhar retreats to the other door)

    Oblomov
    Oh, leaven him alone, Tarantyev. Come Zakhar—help me out of bed.

    (Zakhar dodges around Tarantyev to reach the bed. Oblomov, leaning on Zakhar like a wounded soldier, moves to the armchair. Zakhar brushes and pomades Oblomov's hair. Meanwhile, Tarantyev has discovered Alekseyev.)

    Tarantyev (menacingly) Oh, so you're here too— What are you doing here? I've been meaning to tell you what a swine that relative of yours is—

    Alekseyev (terrified) What relative? I have no relatives—

    Tarantyev
    Afanasyev, that's who. What do you mean he's not your relative? He's your cousin.

    Alekseyev
    My name is Alekseyev, and he's not my cousin—or my relative—

    Tarantyev
    He must be your relative—he looks like you—exactly. And he's a swine. Tell him that when you see him.

    Alekseyev
    Never laid eyes on him.

    Tarantyev
    Well, I borrowed fifty roubles from him once. Now, that's a small sum. You'd think he'd forget it. But, no. He's been pestering me for almost two years about it. Yesterday, he even followed me to my office. "It's payday," he said. "Now you can repay me." Did I go for him! I disgraced him before everyone; he couldn't find the door quick enough. (solemnly) I've never seen such a swine as that relative of yours. (to Oblomov) Give us a cigar, friend.

    Oblomov
    The cigars are on the table in a box.

    Zakhar
    Will you shave now?

    Oblomov
    I'll wait a bit.

    Tarantyev (annoyed) Still the same old ones. I told you to get some Havanas.

    Oblomov
    Still the same.

    Tarantyev
    See that you get some Havanas by next Saturday, or it'll be a long time before you see me again! These are simply vile, you know. (lighting up and puffing) Impossible for a civilized person to smoke them.

    Oblomov
    You've come early today.

    Tarantyev
    What's the matter—getting tired of me?

    Oblomov
    No, no. But you usually come just in time for dinner.

    Tarantyev
    I came early to find out what's for dinner. You always feed me such trash.

    Oblomov
    Ask Zakhar.

    Tarantyev
    Zakhar, what's for dinner?

    Zakhar
    Beef and veal. (ducking out again)

    Tarantyev
    Ah, my dear Ilya, you don't know how to live. And you, a landowner and gentleman. Well, at least you must have some champagne.

    Oblomov
    If not, we can send for some.

    Tarantyev
    Here. Give me the money. I'll pick it up.

    Oblomov
    Champagne costs seven—here's ten.

    Tarantyev
    Let's have it—I'll be back shortly.

    Oblomov
    Wait—I want to ask your advice about something.

    Tarantyev
    What is it? Be quick, I have no time.

    Oblomov
    You see, they are putting me out of my apartment.

    Tarantyev
    You probably don't pay your rent. Serves you right.

    Oblomov
    Nonsense. I always pay in advance. They want the apartment for something else.

    Tarantyev
    Why ask me? Why not ask that thing, or his swinish cousin—?

    Oblomov
    You're a practical man.

    Tarantyev (thinking) Very well. I have it. Tomorrow, you must move.

    Oblomov
    What kind of advice is that? I could have told myself that—

    Tarantyev (shouting) Don't interrupt. Tomorrow, you must move into my friend's house.

    Oblomov
    Where?

    Tarantyev
    In the Vyborg district.

    Oblomov (shuddering) But there are wolves there in the winter!

    Tarantyev
    That needn't concern you. You never go out anyway.

    Oblomov
    But, what if they should come in?

    Tarantyev
    Nonsense. Wolves don't come in.

    Oblomov
    But, nobody lives there.

    Tarantyev
    Nonsense. My friend lives there.

    Oblomov
    It's practically a wilderness.

    Tarantyev
    My friend is a widow with two children. Lives with her brother. He's a sharp one, not like that fellow (pointing to Alekseyev) or his swinish cousin.

    Oblomov
    But, what has it to do with me? I'm not going to move there.

    Tarantyev
    We shall see about that! If you ask my advice, you must take it. I'll move you myself.

    Oblomov (with surprising energy) I am not going to move!

    Tarantyev
    To hell with you, then! What's the attraction here?

    Oblomov
    Everything's here. Shops, theatres—my friends. It's right in the center of everything.

    Tarantyev
    And why the devil do you have to be in the center of everything? You never go out.

    Oblomov
    Why, lots of reasons—

    Tarantyev
    For example?

    (Oblomov tries to think of some reasons, but cannot, and falls silent.)

    Tarantyev (triumphant) You see! Now, in my friend's house everything will be peaceful. No one will ever come to see you except me. (Oblomov winces) And think of all the money you will save. She has been wanting a quiet, reliable tenant for some time. (Oblomov shakes his head) Don't be stupid. You have to move. It will cost you half what you're spending here. Your food will be twice as good. She's an excellent cook, and Zakhar won't be able to steal the way he has.

    Zakhar (overhearing this) Arghh!

    Tarantyev
    There will be more order. This place is never clean—in fact, it's disgusting. There, a women will look after things. You can get rid of Zakhar, or send him back to the estate.

    Zakhar (with rising indignation) ARGGHHH!

    Oblomov (amazed) Rid of Zakhar?

    Tarantyev
    Let the old dog go to pasture.— Why hesitate? Move and be done with it.

    Oblomov
    But, to move into a wilderness, without rhyme or reason. What a wild idea. I don't want to change. If only Stolz were here— He'd find a way—

    Tarantyev
    It's all settled then. You must move. I'll skip dinner and go tell her. She'll be delighted—

    Oblomov
    Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I've got another problem.

    Tarantyev
    Eh? What's that?

    Oblomov
    You've got to read this letter.

    Tarantyev
    Where is it?

    Oblomov
    Where is it? Damn! Zakhar has lost it, again. Zakhar! Zakhar!

    Alekseyev (timidly) Here it is—on the blanket—

    Oblomov (handing the letter to Tarantyev) Well, what do you think?

    Tarantyev
    You are ruined. Absolutely ruined.

    Oblomov
    What shall I do?

    Tarantyev
    Oh, ask him—or his lout of a cousin.

    Oblomov
    I'm asking you.

    Tarantyev
    All right. Your steward is a thief. Don't believe a word of it.

    Oblomov
    But, it sounds so convincing.

    Tarantyev
    That proves he's a thief. What honest man can write convincingly?

    Oblomov
    But, what shall I do?

    Tarantyev
    Replace him at once.

    Oblomov
    With whom? I haven't been there in twelve years.

    Tarantyev
    Go there at once. Raise hell. Take charge.

    Oblomov
    That's what Alekseyev said.

    Tarantyev
    Did he, the swine? If you don't go, you're done for. That thief will make off with everything.

    Oblomov (suddenly) You go. You.

    Tarantyev
    What am I, your manager?

    Oblomov
    Then, what am I to do?

    Tarantyev
    Ask your neighbours, perhaps?

    Oblomov
    I shall write them the day after tomorrow.

    Tarantyev
    Sit down and write at once.

    Oblomov
    But, the mail doesn't leave till the day after tomorrow. I can write tomorrow.

    Tarantyev
    You're a lost man.

    Oblomov
    What more do you want?

    Tarantyev
    Sit down and write.

    Oblomov
    Couldn't you do it?

    Tarantyev
    Me? Oh, you sluggard.

    Oblomov
    If only Stolz were here. He'd fix everything.

    Tarantyev
    That damned German!

    Oblomov
    See here, Tarantyev, please be more careful about what you say, especially about someone close to me.

    Tarantyev
    Close to you!

    Oblomov
    He's closer to me than any relative. We were raised together. I will not permit you—

    Tarantyev
    Ah, if you prefer a German to me, I will never set foot in your house again—

    Oblomov
    You ought to respect him as MY friend—

    Tarantyev
    Respect a German? For what?

    Oblomov
    I've already told you: because I grew up with him, and went to school with him.

    Tarantyev
    Who cares? You went to school with lots of people. You might even have gone to school with his cousin. (pointing to Alekseyev) Am I supposed to respect that swine because you went to school with him?

    Oblomov
    If he were here, he would solve everything, without insisting on champagne and Havana cigars.

    Tarantyev
    Oh! Now, you reproach me! To hell with you and your champagne. (he spits out the cigar and crushes it underfoot) Here, take your money. Now, where have I put it? I can't remember what I did with those damned roubles. (pulling out a greasy piece of paper) No, that's not it. Now, where did I put it?

    Oblomov
    Don't trouble yourself. I'm not reproaching you. I only want you to speak decently of a man who has done so much for me.

    Tarantyev
    He's going to do much more for you. Just wait.

    Oblomov
    What do you mean?

    Tarantyev
    When your German friend fleeces you, you'll know what it is to prefer a Russian to (pronouncing the word with unspeakable contempt) a GERMAN.

    Oblomov
    Listen, Tarantyev!

    Tarantyev
    No more listening. I've had enough of you. God knows how many insults I've endured. My father warned me to beware of Germans. Look at his father, for example.

    Oblomov
    What's wrong with Stolz's father?

    Tarantyev
    Look at all the money he made.

    Oblomov
    He did it honestly—

    Tarantyev
    Honestly! Do you think a Russian, a good Russian, would do all that— No, no— There's something shady about him.

    Oblomov
    But, he invested, and saved—

    Tarantyev
    Bah! And the son—he's always got his nose in a book. Probably figuring some swindle—

    Oblomov
    Let's drop it— Go get the champagne, and I'll write the letters.

    Tarantyev
    All right. Oh, I forgot. I wan to borrow your dress coat tomorrow. I'm going to a wedding.

    Oblomov
    It won't fit—

    Tarantyev
    Of course it will. It will look as though it were made for me. Besides, you never wear it. Zakhar! Zakhar!!

    Zakhar (entering) Arghh! (but he won't fully enter the room)

    Tarantyev
    Come here, you old brute. (Zakhar won't come any further) Call him, Ilya. What's the matter with him, I wonder?

    Oblomov
    Zakhar.

    Zakhar (responding to his master) Damnation! (he finally enters with a terrible thud)

    Oblomov
    Bring my dress coat. Tarantyev wants to see if it fits him.

    Zakhar (defiantly) I will not give it to him!

    Tarantyev
    Why don't you send him to a house of correction, Ilya?

    Oblomov
    We won't come to that. Bring the coat, Zakhar: don't be obstinate.

    Zakhar
    No, let him first bring back the shirt he borrowed six months ago. I'm not going to give him the coat.

    Tarantyev
    Oh, go to the devil! I'll bring back the shirt with the champagne. And, I'm going to rent that apartment for you, Ilya. Do you hear?

    Oblomov
    Very well, very well.

    Tarantyev
    And, see the soup is ready at five— As for you— (grabbing Alekseyev by the sleeve) You come along. I want to talk to you about that swine, your cousin.

    Alekseyev
    He's not my cousin.

    Tarantyev
    A likely story. He looks just like you. Now hop— (he exits nosily, propelling Alekseyev)

    Zakhar
    Arghh.

    (Oblomov has returned to the bed; Zakhar, who has been watching Tarantyev, has not noticed.)

    Zakhar (astonished) Why are you lying down again?

    Oblomov
    Don't bother me. I'm reading.

    Zakhar
    But, the bath water will be cold?

    Oblomov
    You're right. But first, I want to think.

    (Zakhar goes out grumpily; Oblomov passes into a brief reverie, then wakes with a start.)

    Oblomov
    Zakhar! Zakhar!

    Zakhar (entering) Now what? I wonder my legs can drag me.

    Oblomov
    Zakhar! I'll tell you what—it's a long time till dinner. I'll have a bit of lunch. There was some cheese left last night.

    Zakhar
    Left!— Where? There wasn't anything left.

    Oblomov
    Of course there was. I remember it quite well.

    Zakhar (stubbornly) There wasn't anything left.

    Oblomov
    There was, I tell you.

    Zakhar (with finality) There was no such cheese.

    Oblomov (reproachfully) You ate it.

    Zakhar
    Me? You accuse me?

    Oblomov (with conviction) You ate it.

    Zakhar (obstinately) How could I eat it? There was no cheese left.

    Oblomov (wearily) Buy some then.

    Zakhar
    Give me money.

    Oblomov
    There's change on the table.

    Zakhar (going to the table) Not enough.

    Oblomov
    There were some coppers, too.

    Zakhar
    I don't see any—

    Oblomov
    There were. I took them from a peddler myself.

    Zakhar
    There were no coppers.

    Oblomov (with crushing reproach) Zakhar, you took them—

    Zakhar (withered but obstinate There were no coppers.

    Oblomov (finding some money) Never mind. Here—and hurry—

    (Zakhar goes out muttering "There were no coppers".)

    Oblomov
    What a headache. I really must take everything in hand. Tarantyev is perfectly right. I shall write immediately. I must do something immediately. Immediately. (yawning) Still, there's plenty of time. After a brief nap.

    (The lights dim, indicating a short lapse of time. Then, there is a commotion as Zakhar enters clumsily carrying a tray. Zakhar pushes through the door on the left with a tray, managing to bump into everything and knocking off the top of the decanter which rolls noisily on the floor.)

    Oblomov (waking up) See what happens! You might at least pick it up.

    Zakhar (without putting the tray down, tries to pick up the decanter, but cannot) Arghh.

    Oblomov (laughing) Go on, pick it up! What's stopping you?

    Zakhar
    Damnation. (to the decanter) I wish you were at the bottom of the sea. (straightening up) Whoever heard of having lunch right before dinner? (putting the dray down, he picks up the decanter)

    (Oblomov begins to eat.)

    Zakhar
    The landlord just sent another message.

    (Oblomov says nothing, but continues to eat.)

    Zakhar
    We have to move Wednesday. (pause) What are you going to do?

    Oblomov (rising) What a venomous man you are, Zakhar. You won't even let me eat. You know I have forbidden you to mention it. (advancing on Zakhar who backs away, knocking over furniture in his retreat)

    Zakhar
    Why am I venomous? I haven't killed anybody.

    Oblomov (advancing) You are poisoning my life.

    Zakhar (retreating) I am not venomous.

    Oblomov
    Why do you keep pestering me about the apartment? (advancing)

    Zakhar (retreating) Something must be done.

    Oblomov
    What can I do? (advancing)

    Zakhar (retreating) What can I do? (bumping) You can write a letter—you might do it— (dares to say it) NOW.

    Oblomov (thunderstruck) Now? As if I didn't have more important things to do. (goes back to the desk) No ink! How am I to write?

    Zakhar
    Well, I'll get some more.

    Oblomov
    No paper either. How is it there's no paper in the house? And, you say you're not venomous!

    (Zakhar shuffles about and pulls out an ordinary writing sheet.)

    Oblomov
    Do you think I can write a letter on that?

    Zakhar
    Why not?

    (Zakhar goes out and returns with ink. Oblomov has almost fallen asleep.)

    Oblomov (yawning) Next time, look sharp, Zakhar, and do your work properly. Maybe I can make a draft. (he sits down and dips his pen) "Dear sir—" (writing) What vile ink— (he writes with growing irritation) Oh, damn this letter anyhow! I can't go on racking my brain over such trifles— Here— (tearing the letter into pieces and throwing it on the floor)

    Oblomov
    Zakhar! Do you see all that? (pointing to the mess he has just made)

    Zakhar
    I see it. (pulling bills out of his pockets)

    Oblomov
    Don't pester me anymore about the apartment!

    Zakhar
    All right.

    Oblomov
    Now, what have you got there?

    Zakhar
    Bills.

    Oblomov
    Oh, for Heaven's sake— That again! Will you please pick that stuff up? I have to tell you everything.

    (Zakhar picks up the remains of the letter, but nearly knocks over the table in doing so. The ink spills on Oblomov.)

    Oblomov
    Now, see what you've done.

    Zakhar (drying him off with a handkerchief) Here.

    Oblomov
    How much do these bills come to—? Be quick.

    Zakhar
    The butcher—eighty roubles—

    Oblomov
    Are you out of your mind? All that for the butcher alone?

    Zakhar
    You haven't paid him for three months.

    Oblomov
    And you say you're not a venomous man. Spending a fortune on meat.

    Zakhar
    It wasn't me that ate it.

    Oblomov
    It wasn't. It wasn't. I suppose it wasn't you that ate the cheese!

    Zakhar (savagely) There was no cheese!

    Oblomov
    All right, all right.

    Zakhar
    If you didn't let Tarantyev come here, you'd spend less.

    Oblomov
    But, how do I get you to eat less?

    Zakhar
    Are you at it again?— Reproaching me for eating.

    Oblomov
    What a heap of money! I told you to pay a little at a time. Suddenly, the whole thing has to be paid.

    Zakhar
    Give me the money.

    Oblomov
    Here— Now leave me alone. I have work to do. (returning to bed) What people!

    Zakhar
    Ilya—

    Oblomov
    Are you still here?

    Zakhar
    What am I to tell the landlord?

    Oblomov
    About what?

    Zakhar
    About moving.

    Oblomov
    Are you at it again? You mean to be the death of me. Don't you? Admit it.

    Zakhar
    God be with you. Who wishes you ill?

    Oblomov
    You do! I forbade you to mention moving— You know it upsets me. Do you know what it means to move?

    Zakhar
    Well, it's like going out! You could walk about the street. It's not healthy staying home.

    Oblomov
    Walk about the streets! Stop chattering nonsense. Moving—means noise —breakage—work— That's what moving means: Work! And nowhere to rest—to lie down. It would make me miserable! Do you see what you're exposing me to with your laziness?

    Zakhar
    My laziness!

    Oblomov
    You haven't—you won't—figure out a way to prevent this disaster.

    Zakhar
    But other people move.

    Oblomov
    So, it comes to that! I am no different from other people in your eyes.

    Zakhar
    Pardon me. You know you're very—special—to me.

    Oblomov
    Come here. (Zakhar hesitates) Come here. (Zakhar still hesitates) Here! (Zakhar edges slowly towards him) Nearer!

    Zakhar
    I wish I were dead. (Oblomov stares at him) What is it, sir?

    Oblomov
    Are you sorry for your misbehaviour? Your misdemeanor?

    Zakhar
    What's a misdemeanor?

    Oblomov
    Do you understand what you have done? Answer me.

    Zakhar
    Couldn't I just hang myself?

    Oblomov
    Now, aren't you a venomous man? (solemnly) You have grieved me.

    Zakhar (almost in tears) How have I grieved you?

    Oblomov
    You think I am like other people. And, what are other people? People who clean their own boots, dress themselves, and pretend to be gentlemen.

    Zakhar
    Germans are like that.

    Oblomov
    But, how can you think I am like that?

    Zakhar (gasping) You're very different.

    Oblomov
    Exactly. Have you considered how these other people live? Why, they work without ceasing and—and they even run their own errands. How could you—you who have cared for me since I was a child—have the audacity to compare me to others?

    Zakhar (broken) I am sorry.

    Oblomov
    Here I am, beset with cares—working till my head spins— Ingrate—

    Zakhar
    Please don't.

    Oblomov
    Ingrate. I've let you care for me all my life and this is what I get.

    Zakhar (strangled) Please, sir.

    Oblomov
    Now I see what a serpent I've been harboring in my bosom.

    Zakhar
    Serpent! (wailing) When have I ever mentioned such vile things?

    Oblomov
    I'm absolutely exhausted. You see what you've done to me?— I'll have to lie down. To atone for your guilt, you have better make some arrangements with the landlord— (yawns, drops off for a minute)

    Zakhar
    But, it will soon be dinner time— Get up! It's disgraceful.

    Oblomov
    You'd better repent.

    Zakhar (roaring) Get up, I tell you!

    Oblomov (menacingly) What! What!

    Zakhar (softly) I said, why don't you get up, sir?

    Oblomov
    How dare you speak so rudely?

    Zakhar
    Rudely! You must have been dreaming.

    Oblomov
    You think I'm sleeping. Well, I'm not. (drowses off)

    Zakhar (shouts) Fire! Help! Fire!

    Oblomov (jumps up, looks around) Will you stop it? You just wait till I wake up— (about to lie down)

    (Stolz enters quietly; he has been watching for about a minute. Stolz roars with laughter.)

    Stolz
    Fire Department, at your service.

    Oblomov
    Stolz! Stolz!

    (Oblomov jumps up and embraces Stolz as the curtain falls.)

    CURTAIN

    Act II

    Scene 1

    The same as Act I. A few days later. The room is noticeably cleaner, the bed is made. Zakhar enters from the kitchen, grumbling.

    Zakhar (furious) Cook says I must sweep. I've already swept today. What is there to sweep? (increasingly upset) Who asked her advice? She was hired to cook. Whoever heard of dusting the furniture first, then sweeping? The little chit. The little miss know-it-all. I've been sweeping first, then dusting for fifty years. I'm not going to sweep ten times a day. (he throws the broom down) Women think they know everything about housekeeping—just because they're women. (yelling towards the kitchen) Go back to where you belong. Master hired you to cook. Leave cleaning to me, the expert. Know your place, woman. (stomping around) I don't see why the master hired you in the first place. This is all Stolz's doing. I've cooked for twenty years—no complaints. First thing she did when she got here, she upset everything in the kitchen. I purposely put everything together so I could get at it. And she put it, God knows where. Why? (defiantly) So that the tea and sugar don't taste of soap, she says! Bah! Now, where am I going to find anything? God, what a mess a single woman can make! And not only that, I don't like your cooking! Do you hear? I don't like your cooking, even if master does! (Zakhar goes back out into the kitchen, still grumbling)

    (Stolz and Oblomov enter from the street entrance. Oblomov is fashionably dressed and proves a find looking gentleman.)

    Oblomov
    I haven't had my boots off for days. My feet are killing me. (starting to call Zakhar, but Stolz frowns) Can't I call him this once?

    Stolz
    Remember our bargain. If you could do it for yourself, you do it for yourself.

    Oblomov
    Still—it's hard getting them off.

    Stolz (sternly) Try.

    Oblomov (struggles with his boots) There and (grunt) there. Can I?

    Stolz
    Yes.

    Oblomov
    Zakhar. (Zakhar enters) Put my boots away and bring my slippers.

    (Zakhar collects the boots and returns with the slippers, muttering "I don't believe it; it won't last.")

    Oblomov
    I don't like this Petersburg life.

    Stolz
    What sort of life do you like?

    Oblomov
    Well, not this one.

    Stolz
    What exactly don't you like about it?

    Oblomov
    Everything! This eternal competition—gossip— And then, rushing about like flies—it's—fatiguing—. I don't see how I'm more guilty of wasting my life than they are. At least I don't bother anyone dozing at home. What sort of life is that—running about, getting drunk, spreading malicious stories, ogling women? Far better to stay in bed.

    Stolz
    Everyone else is chasing the brass ring. You alone want nothing.

    Oblomov
    And worst of all, for all their frenetic activity, not one of them looks happy.

    Stolz
    And, what is your idea, then?

    Oblomov
    Well, I should move to the country—

    Stolz
    But, you won't even move from this apartment!

    Oblomov
    But staying here is only temporary—

    Stolz
    You've been here ten years.

    Oblomov
    But—in fact—I'm planning to move—into more permanent quarters—

    Stolz
    That's the first I've heard of that—

    Oblomov
    Oh, I've been planning to move practically since I got here. This place really isn't suitable.

    Stolz (looking at Oblomov with amazement) Then, why did you make such a fuss about moving?

    Oblomov
    Well, one can't move just like that. I wouldn't have time to find anything—suitable. Anyway, it was kind of you to manage things with the landlord. I can't imagine how you did it.

    Stolz
    Simple. I bribed him. I offered to increase your rent.

    Oblomov (aghast) But, why didn't you tell me? How much?

    Stolz
    About fifty roubles a month. You can well afford it. Especially with the additional money your steward is sending.

    Oblomov
    I still can't understand how you did that.

    Stolz
    Nothing could be simpler. I wrote him that unless he rendered up an additional four thousand roubles, you would sack him and prosecute him for embezzlement. Amazing the effect of such a letter on his managerial abilities. And, it probably represents only part of the interest on what he's stolen. He can well afford it. You really ought to sack him.

    Oblomov
    But he's been steward since my father's time. I really can't do that. (Stolz shakes his head) I can't tell you how happy you've made me. I wish I knew how to repay you.

    Stolz
    Keep your promise—break out of this sloth.

    Oblomov
    Well, you see, I'm trying. But it's not easy to do—all at once.

    Stolz
    You were telling me your idea of the good life—tell me more.

    Oblomov
    Well, I should move to the country. In the mornings, I would get up and walk around the estate. Then, I would breakfast with my wife. In the afternoon, bathe or swim. Play with the children. Take another walk before dinner. Listen to music, perhaps. Have you to tea.

    Stolz
    And then?

    Oblomov
    And then, go to bed.

    Stolz
    Every day—just like that?

    Oblomov
    Certainly. What more is there?

    Stolz
    Just sit about with empty hands?

    Oblomov (puzzled) What would be in one's hands? A handkerchief, perhaps? Isn't that life?

    Stolz
    No, that is not life.

    Oblomov (still perplexed) What is it, then?

    Stolz
    It's—it's Oblomovism!

    Oblomov
    But, good Heavens—what do people work for, if not to be able to retire at ease? Why all this rushing about except to get enough so one can laze about?

    Stolz
    I work.

    Oblomov
    Someday you'll stop.

    Stolz (puzzled in his turn) Never. Why should I?

    Oblomov
    When you've reached your goal—doubled your capital—

    Stolz
    I've done that several times already— I shall never stop.

    Oblomov
    Why work hard all your life?

    Stolz
    For the sake of work. Work is the very essence of life. Take away my work and where is my life?

    Oblomov
    How horrible? To live for nothing but work. Surely, that is a disease worse than mine?

    Stolz (uncomfortable) Of course, one must stop to smell the flowers. (deliberately changing the subject) As for flowers, I thought it not amiss that you find a little rose to cheer you up and rouse you from this lethargy.

    Oblomov
    A rose? What do you mean? Roses don't do that.

    Stolz
    I mean a woman: Olga Sergeyevna.

    Oblomov
    Oh, yes. You introduced me to her yesterday.

    Stolz
    That's the one.

    Oblomov (troubled) But, so vivacious. So overpowering— (frightened) What do you mean, you arranged—I will not pay visits to ladies—

    Stolz (easily) That won't be necessary. You can't confine yourself to male society.

    Oblomov (uneasily) Just what do you mean?

    Stolz
    Don't you like her?

    Oblomov
    Yes, of course, but—

    Stolz
    Well then, it's all arranged.

    Oblomov
    But I won't go calling on her. Don't think I will go calling— I refuse to go calling on anyone.

    Stolz
    I said, it won't be necessary—

    Oblomov (relieved) Good.

    Stolz
    I've arranged for her to call on you.

    Oblomov (jumping up) What?

    Stolz
    She's very advanced, radical intelligentsia. But quite respectable.

    Oblomov
    But, but, but—she can't come here—

    Stolz
    What not?

    Oblomov
    It's unheard of. Besides, she looked at me so intently; it was most— disconcerting. She was positively staring at me as if she wanted to eat me. And, the woman is so energetic— (gestures) All motion—like a whirlwind—

    Stolz
    Yes, she would like to gobble you up. You're quite a catch, you know— good looking—well off—

    Oblomov
    Me—good looking?

    Stolz
    Indeed! The ladies can't believe you've been hiding away so long.

    Oblomov (humbly) What an idea! What woman would be interested in me?

    Stolz
    Oh, you've already turned several heads.

    Oblomov
    This is some kind of joke.

    Stolz
    I assure you, it is not. Anastasia Fillipovna and Natalia Ivanovna both told me in unmistakable terms that you would be a most welcome caller. Unfortunately, I had to tell them that there are limits, even to my powers over you.

    Oblomov
    Thanks God for limits—

    Stolz
    Olga, however, is made of tougher stuff. "If Mohammed will not go to the mountain, the mountain must go to Mohammed." Her exact words. Fact.

    Oblomov
    What an amazon! And the way she looks at people. It's agony, I tell you. She looks right into your soul. It's terrifying. You must go to her and stop this. Tell her not to come.

    Stolz
    Nonsense.

    (A noise at the door.)

    Oblomov
    Tell her I'm ill. Tell her I've gone to the country, tell her—

    Stolz
    Too late, old friend. She's at the door now.

    Oblomov (turning, looking for a place to hide) But, I'm not dressed. The place is filthy. See all that dust. Zakhar! Zakhar ! Stolz! Help—

    Stolz
    Buck up, old man. Now or never.

    (Enter Olga Sergeyevna. She is beautiful and perfectly in command of every social situation. Although young and unmarried, she has the assurance of a widow. She is emancipated, but has not ceased to be a woman. Rather, she sees her freedom as an enhanced way of expressing her femininity. Oblomov is awestruck by her presence.)

    Olga
    Monsieur Oblomov, I hope you will receive a visitor?

    (Oblomov is awestruck, speechless, but still manages to execute a bow which is the more charming because of it's confusion.)

    SHORT CURTAIN

    Scene 2

    The same a few days later. Stolz, Oblomov and Olga enter from the street door. Stolz is humming an aria: La Donna e mobile.

    Stolz
    I don't know the reason, Olga, but you sang tonight as you never sang before.

    Olga
    You're too kind.

    Oblomov
    You were magnificent.

    Olga (looking fondly at him) Monsieur Oblomov, tu est tres gallant.

    Oblomov
    Your singing comes from the heart.

    Olga
    Yes. (pressing her amble bosom) It comes from here. (smiling at him again)

    Oblomov (whispering to Stolz) She's looking at me again.

    Stolz
    You're in luck, Ilya.

    Oblomov
    You didn't tell her my socks don't match, did you?

    (Olga seats herself on the couch and looks at an album.)

    Olga
    Was this you as a baby?

    Oblomov
    What? I'm sorry.

    Olga
    Was it you?

    Oblomov
    Oh, yes—when I was a child.

    Stolz (rising) I have some work to do, Ilya. I must be going. (to Olga) You see, I keep my promises.

    Oblomov (low to Stolz) Don't leave. Whatever shall I do? I've never been alone with—

    Stolz
    You're doing fine. She likes you. Be yourself. (loud) This work really won't wait.

    Oblomov
    But, I shall be here all alone—with her!

    Olga
    I'll keep you company.

    Oblomov (to Stolz) This is treachery. (to Olga) You are very kind.

    Stolz (bowing to Olga who gives him her hand) I'm off— (low) Don't eat him all in one bite.

    Olga
    You leave him in good hands.

    Stolz (aside) Experienced hands.

    (Stolz exits to the street. A long silence. Olga smiles at Oblomov; Oblomov cringes, but smiles in return—shyly. Oblomov, with a wretched effort, tries to say something, but manages only a crooked grimace.)

    Oblomov (in a heroic effort to make conversation) Do—you—like—the theatre?

    Olga
    Not particularly.

    Oblomov (in an agony) The ballet, perhaps?

    Olga
    Not at all.

    Oblomov (desperate, pathetic) What do you like, then?

    Olga (mischievously) Men!

    Oblomov (strangled) Ah—

    Olga (rising and sitting beside Oblomov) Is it true you find life very dull?

    Oblomov
    Yes. Not really.

    Olga (amused by his confusion) Stolz says you are going abroad with him.

    Oblomov
    Yes. Certainly, certainly.

    Olga
    Do you want to go?

    Oblomov
    Certainly. Of course not.

    Olga
    Stolz says it's hard to get you to do anything—

    Oblomov
    I'm a little lazy.

    Olga (edging closer) Lazy! Is it possible? I don't understand that in a man.

    Oblomov
    What is there to understand? I just sit at home most of the time.

    Olga
    Where do you sit? Here?

    Oblomov
    Actually—I err—lie in the bed.

    (They both look at the bed, Oblomov apprehensively, Olga with anticipation.)

    Olga
    You must read a lot there—

    Oblomov (unable to stand the heat, he gets out of the kitchen and stands up) Well, in actuality—I— It's so very hot in here, don't you think?

    Olga
    Hot? It's probably going to get hotter.

    Oblomov
    Do you think so? (mopping his brow) Zakhar! Zakhar!

    Zakhar (stumping in) Well, what is it?

    Oblomov
    Can't you open the windows?

    Zakhar
    Are you insane? It's freezing out there. Besides, they're nailed shut.

    Oblomov (babbling) Try anyway.

    Zakhar (grumbling, goes to the window and rattles it) Hopeless. (he goes out before Oblomov can stop him)

    Olga (ironically) Don't feel it your duty as host to entertain me! I'm actually having lots of fun. (she rises) May I walk around?

    Oblomov (who has surrendered to his fate) Of course.

    (Olga proceeds to look at everything, but winds up very close to Oblomov, who retreats. Finally, she maneuvers him into a corner.)

    Olga
    Do you have any secrets?

    Oblomov
    Heavens no! What kind of secrets would I have?

    Olga
    Oh—that you wear unmatched stockings for example.

    Oblomov (hotly) Stolz told you that!

    Olga
    Don't be angry with him. He loves you—really he does. (she puts her hand on the bookcase) My, what dust.

    Oblomov
    It's because of Zakhar! Zakhar! Zakhar!

    Zakhar (stumping in) What now?

    Oblomov
    Do you see that, Zakhar?

    Zakhar
    To be sure, I see it.

    Oblomov
    What is it?

    Zakhar
    It's a bookcase, as far as I can tell.

    Oblomov
    It's a dirty bookcase. Dust it.

    Zakhar
    But I can't dust.

    Oblomov
    Why not, if you please?

    Zakhar
    Because Anissya dusts.

    Oblomov
    But, why didn't she dust?

    Zakhar
    She had the morning off.

    Oblomov
    Dust it, then.

    Zakhar
    Can't.

    Oblomov
    Why not?

    Zakhar
    Can't dust when you have company. (he goes out quickly)

    Oblomov
    All right, all right. First thing in the morning, then. Zakhar! Zakhar!

    Zakhar (offstage) Well?

    Oblomov (helplessly) Err—nothing. Make sure you dust in the morning. Well, that takes care of him.

    Olga (agreeing) That takes care of him.

    Oblomov
    I must be boring you.

    Olga
    No—no. You are quite interesting—as a specimen.

    Oblomov
    I seldom have an opportunity to go into society, and I don't make interesting conversation—

    Olga
    You're very entertaining, just being yourself.

    Oblomov
    You're very kind.

    Olga (aside) I shall be kinder still. (aloud) You're very—sweet.

    Oblomov
    You're so—polite.

    Olga
    You're very cute.

    Oblomov
    You're so beautiful—

    Olga
    You manage well for someone who has never been in society. (pause) Do you like the company of women, Monsieur Oblomov?

    Oblomov
    Oh, yes—theoretically—

    Olga
    Theoretically?

    Oblomov
    I seldom have the opportunity—

    Olga
    If you were to have an opportunity—?

    Oblomov
    An opportunity—I rarely—

    Olga
    Would you know how to make use of it?

    Oblomov
    I—I—don't know—err—

    Olga
    Have you ever been in love?

    Oblomov
    In love? Me?

    Olga
    Have you ever done anything WICKED with a woman?

    Oblomov
    How should I do that? No, no—you see—I—

    Olga
    I like you better and better—

    Oblomov
    I must be tiring you—

    Olga
    Not at all—I find you very—refreshing — (Oblomov shifts nervously from one foot to the other) You must think of me as your friend. We understand each other so perfectly.

    Oblomov
    We do? (Olga takes his hand)

    Olga
    Of course, Can't you feel it? (pressing his hand to her bosom) I feel it here.

    Oblomov (spluttering, trying to disengage his hand) I—I—that is to say—

    Olga
    Don't you feel something EXALTING? (still pressing his hand)

    Oblomov
    Oh yes. I've never been so exalted in my life.

    Olga
    When something like this happens, one must surrender to it.— It happens only once in a lifetime. Don't fight it.

    Oblomov
    Fighting is—fatiguing.

    Olga
    Doubtless you have a sublime will, above mundane, physical matters. You dream great dreams, Monsieur Oblomov. (still pressing his hand)

    Oblomov (yawning) I can't recall any. I usually think about dinner, or when I was a child.

    Olga
    I know what you are made of. (she still has his hand)

    Oblomov (tugging weakly) Do you?

    Olga
    It's so grand that it puts me all in a tremble. (Olga trembles, every inch of her)

    Oblomov
    How it must tire you.

    Olga
    It makes me feel faint— Ohh! (collapsing into his arms)

    Oblomov
    Olga Sergeyevna!

    Olga
    I'll be all right. Help me to lie down—there. (pointing to the bed)

    Oblomov (assisting her to the bed) I will call Zakhar. (Olga hangs about his neck) Zakh— (but she smothers his call with a kiss, he tries again, this time a call for help) ZA! (smothered again)

    BLACKOUT

    Scene 3

    The same, morning of the next day. There is a stirring, yawning, in Oblomov's bed. Olga in Oblomov's Persian robe, yawns and sits up.

    Olga
    Zakhar! Zakhar!

    Oblomov (next to her, naked at least to the waist jumps up) What are you doing?

    Olga
    I'm calling Zakhar! I want some breakfast.

    Oblomov
    You can't do that!

    Olga
    Why not, for Heaven's sake? I'm hungry. Famished.

    Oblomov
    But, it's not proper.

    Olga
    I'm dressed, silly. The old goat won't see anything of—me. (pointing to her robe)

    (Oblomov suddenly looks at himself, his nakedness and rushes about to put something on, while trying to cover himself from view. Finally, he finds his coat and puts it on, without any shirt. He buttons it up tight.)

    Oblomov
    I wonder where my shirt went? (starting to call) Zak— (but he realizes his mistake and shuts off in mid call; he almost chokes)

    (Olga is thoroughly enjoying Oblomov's embarrassment. There is a loud thumping noise off.)

    Oblomov (frantic) That's Zakhar! Under the blankets, quick! He mustn't see you here.

    Olga (protesting) This is ridiculous!

    Oblomov (pushing her under the blankets) Quick!

    (Zakhar enters with a broom, bucket, mop, pail, and feather duster. He clanks along clumsily, catching the mop in the door.)

    Zakhar
    I though I head you calling, sir.

    Oblomov
    Me! Calling? Ridiculous!

    Zakhar
    Yes, you.

    Oblomov
    You must be hearing things.

    Zakhar
    Strange, I could have sworn—

    (Olga peeps out from under the covers; Zakhar does not see her, but Oblomov does and pushes her back.)

    Zakhar
    Well, I'm here anyway. I'm going to give this place a thorough cleaning. A little dust upsets you so.

    Oblomov
    Dust, upset me? What are you talking about?

    Zakhar
    I'm going to clean this place once and for all. I'm tired of your endless complaints.

    Oblomov
    Who's complaining? Me, complain about dust!

    Zakhar
    You are—who else? Never give me any peace about it. Well, when I'm finished, you won't be able to find any dust with a microscope. Now, clear out so I can make the bed and get to work.

    Oblomov (in great agitation) It really isn't necessary at this time.

    Zakhar (astounded) Eh?

    Oblomov
    Do it later.

    Zakhar
    Didn't you tell me last night to do it this morning?

    Oblomov
    Last night?

    Zakhar
    Last night!

    Oblomov
    I don't seem to remember.

    Zakhar
    Well, I do. Now, if you'll just clear out, I'll start with the bed— (moving toward the bed)

    Oblomov (horrified and putting himself between Zakhar and the bed) You mustn't do that.

    Zakhar
    Why not? You're up and dressed.

    Oblomov
    You can't start there!

    Zakhar
    Yes, I can. You'll see.

    (The blankets heave up and down with Olga's suppressed laughter.)

    Oblomov (blocking Zakhar who has again started toward the bed) You'd better do it some other time.

    Zakhar
    But, Anissya says you must make the bed first, then dust. Just let me make it. It will only take a minute.

    Oblomov (blocking him) No. No.

    Zakhar (puzzled) But, why not?

    Oblomov
    I may want to lie down again.

    Zakhar
    Well, then lie down—who's stopping you? I'll make it again.

    Oblomov (another block) No. No.

    Zakhar
    But, why not?

    Oblomov
    Why not?

    Zakhar
    Why not?

    Oblomov
    Because there's no need.

    Zakhar
    But the bed is unmade.

    Oblomov
    True.

    Zakhar
    Therefore, it needs to be made.

    Oblomov
    Nonsense.

    Zakhar
    Anyway, you're dressed.

    Oblomov
    So I am.

    Zakhar
    But, where's your shirt?

    Oblomov
    My shirt?

    Zakhar
    Your shirt.

    Oblomov (lapsing) I don't know. Where did you put it?

    Zakhar
    Me? YOU probably left it in the bed! (lurching towards the bed)

    Oblomov (blocking again) That's all right, that's all right.

    Zakhar
    You're always blaming me, when you do it yourself. It's probably right under the blanket.

    Oblomov
    I'll find it myself.

    Zakhar (thunderstruck) Eh?

    Oblomov
    I'll find it myself. I don't need a shirt anyway. See, I have my coat. It's warm enough—

    Zakhar
    Are you ill, Ilya?

    Oblomov
    Never better.

    Zakhar
    I thought I should never live to hear you talk like that.

    Oblomov
    I've changed.

    Zakhar
    You're beginning to sound like other people.

    Oblomov
    I'll make the bed myself. Get out. Dust later. Make us— (horrified, quickly correcting himself) me some biscuits for breakfast. Make a lot.

    Zakhar
    Anissya doesn't like to make biscuits for breakfast.

    Oblomov
    You make them, then.

    Zakhar
    But, I'm not the cook anymore.

    Oblomov
    Do it anyway.

    Zakhar
    But she'll be furious. She won't allow me to touch anything in HER kitchen.

    Oblomov
    Don't mind her.

    Zakhar
    I'd rather clean the place.

    Oblomov
    No.

    Zakhar
    But, I'm ready to clean, Ilya.

    Oblomov
    No.

    Zakhar
    But, it's so dirty.

    Oblomov
    You must be crazy; it doesn't need cleaning at all!

    Zakhar (throwing up his hands and dropping the mop and broom) Lord, how much longer am I to be punished like this?

    Oblomov
    Now, get out, and make some biscuits—with honey, mind you.

    (Zakhar picks up the mop and broom and exits clumsily, knocking things over and bumping into things, cursing and talking to himself.)

    Olga (popping up) Ha, ha, ha.

    Oblomov
    Shh! You've got to get dressed before he comes back.

    Olga
    I'm fine like this.

    Oblomov
    But, you can't just stay there in bed all day!

    Olga
    Why not? You do. I'll keep you company.

    Oblomov
    But, this is scandalous.

    Olga
    What, staying in bed?

    Oblomov
    You are young and innocent. You don't realize how people would misunderstand the situation.

    Olga
    I think people would understand perfectly— They would assume we spent the night together and were having an affair—

    Oblomov
    People will talk.

    Olga
    Let them. We've better things to do.

    Oblomov
    But the danger is far greater than that. In the presence of an attractive woman, a man may lose his self control; his respect for purity and innocence is clouded, carried away in a whirlwind; swayed by passion, he no longer knows what he is doing—then—then—

    Olga
    And, then?

    Oblomov (shuddering at the horror of it) A fate worse than death for the woman.

    Olga
    You are clearly mad.

    Oblomov
    No, no, Olga—I am a man and I know— Promise me you will never sacrifice your precious honor—even if I beg you to do it.

    Olga (interrupting) Darling—

    Oblomov
    Yes, my love.

    Olga
    You have rather odd ideas—

    Oblomov
    You are such an innocent, Olga—people will think—you just don't understand—that we are having an affair.

    Olga (emphatically) We are having an affair.

    Oblomov
    It seems to me that is not quite the way to put it—

    Olga
    What did we do— (pointing to the bed) there last night—?

    Oblomov
    Last night?

    Olga
    Last night.

    Oblomov
    Why, nothing.

    Olga
    Nothing. It seems to me we did something.

    Oblomov
    That is an indelicate way to put it. I would rather say—

    Olga
    What do you prefer to say?

    Oblomov
    Err—nothing. Yes, I prefer to say nothing.

    Olga
    Doesn't your memory fail you sometimes? Because I fancy you don't remember what you do overnight?

    Oblomov (helplessly) Olga, my dear old friend. Olga—

    Olga
    Is that a jibe at my age?

    Oblomov
    No, no, of course not.

    Olga
    What did you do to me last night?

    Oblomov
    It wasn't that way.

    Olga (upset) What way was it?

    Oblomov
    Olga Sergeyevna, don't excite yourself, please.

    Olga
    Do you feel yourself confined?

    Oblomov
    No, no. (he could as easily have said, "Yes, yes")

    Olga
    Are you tired of me?

    Oblomov
    Certainly not.

    Olga
    Speak freely.

    Oblomov
    I—

    Olga
    Answer me with the same truth and sincerity I have answered you.

    Oblomov
    What is it I must answer you?

    Olga
    Speak from your soul.

    Oblomov
    Why am I asked so strange a question?

    Olga
    And to think, I want to marry a man like you?

    Oblomov
    How could a woman like you want to marry a man like me? Why make so strange a choice?

    Olga
    You make me impatient.

    Oblomov
    Marriage is a fine thing, a fine thing. But, I'd rather see my friends happy that way than myself. Marriage requires so much of one.

    Olga
    The dullest solitude is more pleasing to you than my company.

    Oblomov
    No, no.

    Olga
    My reputation—

    Oblomov
    Yes, about that, I think it would be better—

    Olga
    Reputation should always be sacred.

    Oblomov
    That is my opinion exactly, therefore—

    Olga
    I took you for quite another man.

    Oblomov
    What is it disturbs you?

    Olga
    Nothing—

    Oblomov
    The world will certainly report from false appearances, that I'm—

    Olga
    You don't love me—

    Oblomov
    Of course I do. Only let me love you in my own way. Quietly.

    Olga
    Secretly.

    Oblomov (wildly) You're the only person for whom I've made a journey. Can't you resign yourself to accepting me with all my infirmities—

    Olga
    I want to know if something actually happened last night—to me—to us—or if I was just dreaming.

    Oblomov
    It was like a dream to me.

    Olga
    You're incorrigible. (softening) Kiss me.

    Oblomov
    Now?

    Olga
    Now.

    Oblomov
    But, someone might come.

    Olga
    Let them.

    Oblomov
    Wouldn't it be better to wait?

    Olga
    You can be infuriating.

    (They embrace. Suddenly, there is a thunderous knocking on the door.)

    Oblomov
    It's Tarantyev— Quick under the blankets.

    Olga
    I'll never forgive you, if you hide me—if you're ashamed—

    Oblomov
    Please, Olga, I beg you—

    Olga
    Oh, very well. (she hides in the bed)

    (Tarantyev stumps in; he is in a jovial mood.)

    Tarantyev
    Well friend, what about having a look at your new apartment?

    Oblomov
    That won't be necessary now. I—I—shan't be moving.

    Tarantyev (flabbergasted) Wha-at? What do you mean? you rented it, didn't you? What about the lease?

    Oblomov
    The lease?

    Tarantyev
    Forgotten, have you? You signed a lease for a year. Just give me the thousand roubles and you can go wherever you like.

    Oblomov
    But, I don't need an apartment. I'm going to Paris. I've promised Stolz to join him.

    Tarantyev
    With that Teuton? Not you! You'll never do it.

    Oblomov
    Oh no? I even have my passport and I've bought luggage.

    Tarantyev
    You won't go! You'd better let me have the rent for two months in advance.

    Oblomov
    But I haven't any money.

    Tarantyev
    Well, you can get it. I've already paid the landlady with my own money, so you can pay me.

    Oblomov
    Where did you get so much money?

    Tarantyev
    Is that your business? Give me the money!

    Oblomov
    Very well; in a few days I'll come and sublet the apartment, but just now, I'm in a hurry.

    Tarantyev
    You really ought to see it—very cozy—

    Oblomov
    I don't want to see it. Why should I move there? It's too far—

    Tarantyev
    From what?

    Oblomov (sighing to himself) From Olga Sergeyevna. (aloud) From the center.

    Tarantyev
    Eh? From the center of what? And why be near the center to lie in bed?

    Oblomov
    I don't lie in bed anymore.

    Tarantyev
    How is that?

    Oblomov
    I don't. Today, for example, I am dining out.

    Tarantyev
    Give me the money then, and go to the devil.

    Oblomov
    What money? I'll call at the apartment and talk it over with the landlady.

    Tarantyev
    The landlady? What does she know? You must talk to her brother. He'll give it to you. Just wait and see.

    Oblomov
    Very well. I'll talk with him.

    Tarantyev
    Better give me the money and let me manage him.

    Oblomov
    I told you I don't have it right now.

    Tarantyev (determined to get something out of him) Well, give me the money for my cab, at least.

    Oblomov
    How much?

    Tarantyev
    Three silver roubles.

    Oblomov
    Isn't that a lot?

    Tarantyev
    Well, it's a long drive.

    Oblomov
    Here—

    Tarantyev
    Now, give me the money for lunch.

    Oblomov
    Why lunch?

    Tarantyev
    Because, you've made me late, and I'll have to stop at a tavern—at least five silver roubles.

    Oblomov (anxious to get rid of him) Here.

    Tarantyev
    Tell Zakhar to give me something to eat.

    Oblomov
    But, I just paid for your lunch?

    Tarantyev
    Lunch, yes. But I want a snack.

    Oblomov
    Zakhar!

    Zakhar (entering cautiously) What now?

    Oblomov
    Have the cook make Tarantyev a snack.

    Tarantyev
    Some beef and a glass of wine.

    Zakhar
    No. Not until he returns your shirt and coat.

    Tarantyev
    What are you talking about? I returned them long ago.

    Zakhar
    When was that?

    Tarantyev
    I put them right in your hands. You stuck them in some bundle, and now you ask me for them—probably sold them for drink.

    Zakhar (hissing) I never in my life sold anything of my master's for drink. You—

    Oblomov
    Stop it, Zakhar.

    Zakhar
    You took a broom and two cups, too.

    Tarantyev
    Broom? What the hell are you talking about? You'd better get me something to eat before I get mad.

    Zakhar
    Never. There's no food in the house. And the cook is out. (he stalks off)

    Tarantyev
    Well, I'm damned. That's the influence of that damned Teuton!

    Oblomov (sharply) Tarantyev! Don't talk about what you don't understand.

    Tarantyev
    Such energy! Well then, I'm going. (he sees Oblomov's cap and puts it on) Lend me your cap, you don't wear it. (Tarantyev starts to leave and without a word Oblomov removes the cap from Tarantyev's head and places it on the bookstand; Tarantyev is completely nonplussed) Oh, the hell with you. (Tarantyev exits more puzzled than angry)

    Olga (popping out again) I've never been so humiliated in all my life!

    Oblomov
    But, Olga—

    Olga
    Making me hide like—like I don't know what—as if you were ashamed of me? Are you? (without waiting for an answer, Olga throws off the robe in a fury)

    Oblomov
    Olga Sergeyevna, what are you doing?

    (Olga finds her clothes and, as rapidly as possible, proceeds to dress. Oblomov casts various conciliatory glances and gestures towards her, even begins several times to speak, but is cowed into silence by her scornful looks. Just as she is completing her toilet, Zakhar stumps in and stares speechlessly. Without a word, Olga storms past Zakhar and out of the house.)

    Oblomov
    Olga Sergeyevna, Olga Sergeyevna!

    Zakhar (softly) She's gone.

    Oblomov (in a daze) What?

    Zakhar
    She's gone.

    (Oblomov regains control of himself and is now determined to make Zakhar deny his own senses.)

    Oblomov
    What are you talking about?

    Zakhar
    Olga Sergeyevna, of course.

    Oblomov
    Are you mad?

    Zakhar
    Huh?

    Oblomov
    There's no one here.

    Zakhar
    Eh? That's what I said. She just left.

    Oblomov
    No one just left.

    Zakhar
    I saw her myself. Two minutes ago. Less.

    Oblomov
    Are you seeing things?

    Zakhar
    I saw her with my own eyes.

    Oblomov
    Did she say anything to you?

    Zakhar
    No—uh. She just rushed out. All in a dither.

    Oblomov
    Is it likely she would do that?

    Zakhar (cagily) What do you mean?

    Oblomov
    If she had been here, wouldn't she have said, "Hello, Zakhar"?

    Zakhar
    Well she usually does.

    Oblomov
    Did she?

    Zakhar
    No. She didn't.

    Oblomov (with maddening reasonability) Then, how could she have been here?

    Zakhar
    But, I saw her.

    Oblomov
    You are seeing things.

    Zakhar
    But, I saw her.

    Oblomov (threateningly) If you continue to see such things, I shall have to send you away, Zakhar. I can't have servants that see things—

    Zakhar (comprehending) Perhaps, I was mistaken—

    Oblomov
    Of course you were— (Zakhar starts to leave) Zakhar.

    Zakhar
    What is it?

    Oblomov
    Where has the money gone? We've almost nothing left.

    Zakhar
    Do I know where you spend your money?

    Oblomov
    If only you had written it down.

    Zakhar
    I've lived my life without knowing how to read or write, what of it? You probably spent it on preparations for the wedding.

    Oblomov
    What wedding?

    Zakhar
    Yours, of course.

    Oblomov
    Me? Getting married? To whom?

    Zakhar
    To Olga Sergeyevna.

    Oblomov (advancing) Who put that in your head, you miserable wretch?

    Zakhar
    Why am I a miserable wretch?

    Oblomov
    Not another word.

    Zakhar
    Did I invent it? Miss Olga's servant told cook, and cook told me.

    Oblomov (low) So. Even the servants are talking. This is what it has come to. (aloud) How did you know—err, I mean what makes you think I am getting married?

    Zakhar
    Vasilisa told Anissya and Anissya told me.

    Oblomov (sternly) Zakhar!

    Zakhar
    Yes, sir.

    Oblomov
    Come here!

    Zakhar (not coming) Do you want me to fetch something?

    Oblomov
    Come here!

    Zakhar (not budging) There's no room. I can hear fine from where I am.

    Oblomov
    Closer.

    Zakhar (not moving) This is as far as I can go. (aside) Aiee! I'm in for it now.

    Oblomov
    How could you ask me such a venomous question?

    Zakhar
    I'd better call Anissya.

    Oblomov
    I want to speak to you, not the cook. Why did you invent such a story?

    Zakhar (stubbornly) I did not invent it.

    Oblomov
    It's a lie, do you hear? (pause) It cannot be.

    Zakhar
    Why can't it be? Lots of other people get married.

    Oblomov
    There you go, again, comparing me to other people. Are you listening to me? What is a wedding?

    Zakhar
    A wedding is a wedding—when people get married.

    Oblomov
    Listen, I'll explain to you. A wedding is when dozens of idle people buzz around. A wedding is constant rehearsals and dressing up in fancy clothes that don't fit right because they are rented— Do you dare to suggest that I could endure that?

    Zakhar
    Well, you'd only have to do it once. Can I go?

    Oblomov
    Stay here. You have forgotten all the confusion, the running about— the unwelcome guests— In short, weddings are—work.

    Zakhar
    Shall I call Anissya?

    Oblomov (puzzled) What for?

    Zakhar (fingering prayer beads) What have I done to deserve such punishment?

    Oblomov
    And the expense? What about the expense? I have no money left. And, I have to settle up for the apartment Tarantyev rented— How could I get married?

    Zakhar
    Other people with your income—less—get married.

    Oblomov
    Other people again! Take care! Other people live in one room and have only one maid to do the housework and the wife to do the shopping. Do you imagine Olga Sergeyevna could go to the—market?

    Zakhar
    Well, I could do that. Besides, she's got bundles of money.

    Oblomov
    Don't you see how fatiguing it would all be— (he breaks off into an agonized revelry)

    (Zakhar waits patiently, afraid that if he leaves he will be called back, although he starts to leave several times, but thinks better of it.)

    Oblomov (ending his trance) Well, what is it?

    Zakhar
    Well, you told me to stand here—

    Oblomov
    Go—

    (Zakhar obediently starts to leave.)

    Oblomov
    Wait!

    Zakhar
    Here we go again!

    Oblomov
    How did you dare to spread such a venomous rumor about me?

    Zakhar (hurt) When did I spread it, Ilya Ilyich? Somebody told me, that's all.

    Oblomov
    Not a word—ever— Do you hear?

    Zakhar
    Yes, sir. (leaving again)

    Oblomov
    Zakhar! (Zakhar stops in his tracks without turning) Look at this dirt! You'd better dust and sweep again. Olga Sergeyevna gives me no peace. "You must like dirt," she says. I thought I told you to sweep first thing.

    Zakhar (almost, but not quite speechless, staring reproachfully) It's all very well for her to talk. She has five servants.

    Oblomov
    Well, why don't you start sweeping? What are you standing there for?

    (Zakhar helplessly begins to putter around and suddenly triumphantly brings up a lady's unmentionable.)

    Zakhar
    Ha, ha. ha.

    CURTAIN

    Act III

    Scene 1

    Oblomov's room in Madame Pshenitsyn's house. The room is furnished with Oblomov's furniture, but rearranged. We can tell from the presence of a balcony that we are in a different house. Everything is neat and clean; not a speck of dust. Enter Tarantyev and Madame Pshenitsyn.

    Tarantyev
    I wonder where he can have gone?

    Madame
    Oh, sometimes, he's in the garden hammock.

    Tarantyev
    Well, do I deserve my reward?

    Madame
    Yes, if he stays.

    Tarantyev
    He'll stay.

    Madame
    Still—

    Tarantyev
    Let's have a drink.

    (Madame Pshenitsyn pours from a decanter. They both drink.)

    Tarantyev
    To Oblomov.

    Madame
    To Oblomovism.

    Tarantyev
    This is good stuff, what is it?

    Madame
    Real Jamaica Rum. (she offers more, he accepts)

    Tarantyev
    You must admit I deserve a treat. The house might have rotted and never seen a lodger like this.

    Madame
    That's so, that's so.

    Tarantyev
    And, if it comes off, and you marry him—

    Madame
    I am afraid he may be leaving. He keeps saying it's only temporary—

    Tarantyev
    Where will he go? A woman like you ought to have more sense! You'd have to drive him away by force. They couldn't get rid of him where he was before. He stayed there ten years—temporarily.

    Madame
    But they say his is going to marry.

    Tarantyev
    Marry! Why, he can't go to sleep without Zakhar's help. How could he marry? He doesn't know what's what.

    Madame
    Still—he is so—attractive.

    Tarantyev (puzzled) What woman would be attracted to a pitiful, helpless thing like that?

    Madame
    That's exactly what makes him so—exciting—his helplessness.

    Tarantyev
    Bah! Not a man.

    Madame
    All I am afraid of is his marriage to Miss Olga.

    Tarantyev
    Don't worry. It will come to nothing, I tell you.

    Madame
    But, she's so bold. I can't keep up with shamelessness like that. (gaily) Do you know he is casting sheep's eyes at yours truly?

    Tarantyev
    Already? You don't say so!

    Madame
    Don't you let on.

    Tarantyev
    I wouldn't have dreamed it. And, how do you feel about it?

    Madame (serenely) Oh—you know me.

    Tarantyev
    Just think what it may lead to—

    Madame
    He's always asking to see my brother—

    Tarantyev
    He never will.

    Madame
    As I haven't got one. He intended to leave and break the lease. But, as he had to see my brother—and as my brother has never been around, he's been here four months.

    Tarantyev
    Did he ask about me?

    Madame
    I told him you were a friend of my brother—

    (They both laugh. Oblomov returns.)

    Oblomov
    Ah, Tarantyev. I was just about to lie down—an afternoon siesta.

    Tarantyev
    Good day, friend.

    Oblomov (gallantly) Ah, Madame Pshenitsyn. How peaceful and happy you look.

    Tarantyev (with feeling) This woman is a perfect jewel, as I told you.

    Oblomov
    You're quite right. Quite right. A diamond. Madame Pshenitsyn, has your brother come round lately?

    Madame
    No. He's still away.

    Oblomov
    I'd really like to meet him.

    Madame
    Is it the pigs or the chickens that are bothering you?

    Oblomov
    No, no. I pay them no heed.

    Madame
    The chickens make a frightful racket and the pigs smell awfully. We will take them further off—

    Oblomov
    That doesn't matter either—but I can't stay indefinitely.

    Madame
    As you please. But my brother will make you pay compensation— A whole year's rent.

    Oblomov
    That's unfair.

    Madame
    But my brother is very exact. He told me it was in the contract.

    Oblomov
    Surely, you can persuade your brother—

    Madame
    He never listens to me. You must speak to him yourself.

    Oblomov
    But, he never comes—

    Madame
    But he's away on business—and I can do nothing without him— Well, I must attend to my work— (she leaves)

    Oblomov
    She is a jewel.

    Tarantyev
    I thought you might like to go to the Park?

    Oblomov
    Whatever for?

    Tarantyev
    Well, there'll be fireworks. I love fireworks.

    Oblomov
    Fireworks is not very exciting. Besides I have work to do.

    Tarantyev
    I'll stop back in a while for dinner.

    Oblomov
    Good. I don't get much company out here.

    (Tarantyev exits. Oblomov looks longingly at the bed, but decides, after an agonizing struggle, against it. He sees a bowl of coffee and pours it into a cup and drinks. He tries to look at some papers, yawns, puts them aside, sips more coffee, looks back at the bed.)

    Oblomov
    Zakhar.

    Zakhar
    Sir?

    Oblomov
    What excellent coffee. Did Anissya make it?

    Zakhar
    Could Anissya do anything right? The landlady, of course.

    Oblomov
    Go thank her for me.

    (Zakhar goes out. Oblomov moves from one seat to the armchair. Still casting avid glances at the bed, he takes up first a paper, then a book, yawns as he casts them aside. But he steels himself, smothers a yawn and continues to read. Olga, looking well, but somewhat perturbed enters. She is wearing a riding cloak.)

    Oblomov (startled, looks up) You here?

    Olga
    You are well! You're not in bed!

    Oblomov
    My health is almost back to normal.

    Olga
    Why didn't you come yesterday?

    Oblomov (confused) Yesterday. Well, that is to say—

    Olga (furious) I'm waiting.

    Oblomov
    But, Olga—do you realize what you are doing, coming here? My landlady—

    Olga
    We'll discuss that later! I ask you: what is the meaning of your staying away?

    (Oblomov makes no reply.)

    Olga
    Was your throat sore, like the last time?

    Oblomov (after saying nothing at first) No. (timidly) You see, Olga—

    Olga
    You have deceived me. Why?

    Oblomov
    I'll explain everything, Olga. An important reason forced me to stay away for two weeks— I was afraid—

    Olga
    Of what?

    Oblomov (under his breath) You. (aloud) Talk. Gossip.

    Olga
    But, you weren't afraid of my spending nights alone, thinking God knows what!

    Oblomov
    You don't know what is going on—

    Olga
    What's going on?

    Oblomov
    The rumors about us.

    Olga
    That is bourgeois.

    Oblomov
    I didn't want to alarm you. I was afraid to face you.

    Olga
    That, too, is bourgeois. Never mind. (brightening up, she is glad to see him) We must announce our marriage. Then, there will be no more rumours. (smiling) When will we be married?

    Oblomov (uneasily) Soon.

    Olga
    If I didn't know you to be the most honest man in the world, and terribly in love with me, I might suspect you were trying to get rid of me.

    Oblomov
    No, no—Olga. Never think it. I worship you. I only thought the talk would upset you.

    Olga
    But I've known about it all along.

    Oblomov
    You're known?

    Olga
    Of course. I've already been congratulated many times by my servants.

    Oblomov
    But, this is horrible.

    Olga
    But the rumors are not without foundation, are they?

    Oblomov
    No, no. Of course not. But, I thought if I stayed away— I was hoping they'd quiet down— I was afraid—

    Olga
    Afraid! You're trembling like a little boy. I, on the other hand, am not easily upset by trifles.

    Oblomov
    But, is your reputation a trifle?

    Olga
    What a man to have an affair with, really.

    Oblomov
    I'm hopeless, I know it. I'm not up to these love affairs. I worry about everything.

    Olga (amused) Why not worry about me? (she smiles mischievously and takes off her cloak) What have you been doing all this time?

    Oblomov (sincerely) Reading. Writing— Mostly thinking about you.

    Olga (examining the book) The pages are uncut— You haven't been reading.

    Oblomov (faltering) There was so little time. In the morning, they tidy up the rooms— which is disturbing—then there's dinner. When is there time to read?

    Olga (flatly) You slept after lunch?

    Oblomov (guiltily) Usually.

    Olga (imperiously) Why?

    Oblomov
    So I wouldn't notice the time. You were not with me, and life is so dull, unbearable, without you—

    Olga
    You are sliding back. You have deceived me!

    Oblomov
    Deceived you! Do you doubt my love? I would make any sacrifice—

    Olga
    But, who is asking you to make any special sacrifice?

    Oblomov
    You don't know what all this passion has done to my health! I have had no other thought since I met you. You are the aim of my life. Is it any wonder that when I don't see you, I give up and fall asleep?

    Olga (laughing) Oh, it's impossible to be angry with you! (walking about) What a depressing place this is. The windows are so small (shutting the blinds) The wallpaper so old. (beginning to disrobe)

    Oblomov
    Yes, it really is a terrible place. But, it's only temporary. Only temporary. (he sees what she is doing) Good God, Olga, you can't—

    Olga
    Why not?

    Oblomov
    It's the middle of the afternoon.

    Olga
    So? One time's as good as another.

    Oblomov
    But, my landlady— (picking up her clothes as she sheds them)

    Olga
    To hell with your landlady. Lock the door. (Olga is now in her chemise and lying on the couch) I miss you. (he locks the door)

    Oblomov
    But, Olga—

    Olga
    Haven't you missed me?

    Oblomov
    Of course, of course. Terribly.

    Olga (languorously) Then, come here.

    Oblomov
    But Tarantyev may be back any minute.

    Olga (furious) Why did you invite him?

    Oblomov
    You see, he's going to help me.

    Olga (getting up and dressing in a rage) What do you need his help for?

    Oblomov
    My estate is in disorder again. I'll give him a power of attorney. That way I don't have to go there myself. (coaxingly) I won't have to leave you. I couldn't bear it. (Olga is slightly mollified) You see, I'm not used to traveling. And even if I did go, I wouldn't know what to do— If only Stolz would come back.

    Olga
    Yes, Stolz is a real man. (Meaning Oblomov is not. The irony is lost on Oblomov. Olga finishes dressing and opens the windows. She looks out the window for a while, then softens.) Poor darling. You're not very good at the administrative side of love, are you?

    Oblomov
    I—Olga—you are not angry?

    Olga
    Oh, what's the use? When we are married, we can stay in bed all day.

    Oblomov (shudders) Yes, my dear.

    Olga
    When will we be married?

    Oblomov (uneasily) Soon.

    Olga
    Darling, I meant to tell you. We shouldn't delay much longer.

    Oblomov
    No—no—only until this business with my estate is settled.

    Olga
    Because—how long will that take?

    Oblomov
    Oh, perhaps, a year.

    Olga
    A year!

    Oblomov
    Until then, we mustn't see each other like this too often.

    Olga (sitting down) A whole year—but, in six months—

    Oblomov
    Eh?

    Olga
    Nothing. Nothing at all. Why must we wait a year to put your estate in order?

    Oblomov
    Because I may have no money. Everything is such a mess. Olga—we can't marry—

    Olga
    I see. (pause) (in a low voice) And in six months—

    Oblomov
    In six months?

    Olga
    Nothing.

    (Zakhar attempts to enter; Oblomov blocks his entrance.)

    Zakhar
    I thanked her.

    Oblomov
    Zakhar, the other day you asked to go visit your cousin. Well, you can go—now.

    Zakhar
    Today? No, tomorrow would be better.

    Oblomov
    Go, and have a good time.

    Zakhar
    Who goes visiting on a weekday? I won't go.

    Oblomov
    Yes, you will.

    Zakhar
    But, I can't have a good time on a weekday.

    Oblomov
    Nonsense—go on.

    Zakhar
    No—I'm staying home all day today. But, I might go Sunday.

    Oblomov (in great agitation) Go now! At once!

    Zakhar
    Why should I go all that distance?

    Oblomov
    Go for a walk, then—look at your face. You need fresh air.

    Zakhar
    I'd rather sit on the front steps—

    Oblomov
    Here's money—go have some Vodka.

    Zakhar
    That's very kind of you, Ilya, but I'd rather sit on the front steps.

    Oblomov
    You will not sit on the steps. I will not allow you to sit on the steps.

    Zakhar
    Well, I'll sit by the gate then.

    Oblomov
    If you don't want the day off, go to the market.

    Zakhar
    But, I just went to the market this morning.

    Oblomov
    Go, again.

    Zakhar
    But, it's a long way.

    Oblomov
    Be quiet and listen. I want you to buy some asparagus.

    Zakhar
    Asparagus is out of season.— Where would I find it?

    Oblomov
    Look very hard. Run as fast as you can—and don't look back.

    Zakhar (going out) What a plague!

    Oblomov (exhausted) What a venomous man. Well, at least I got rid of him.

    Olga
    Yes. Now we can—

    Oblomov (apprehensively looking at the bed) Of course.

    Olga
    —talk.

    Oblomov (visibly relieved) Certainly, certainly.

    Olga
    There's something I must ask you.

    Oblomov (amiably What is it?

    Olga
    Do you like children?

    Oblomov
    Of course I like children.

    Olga
    I mean, do you want to be a father?

    Oblomov
    Me? A father! What an incredible idea? What would I do with children? I mean they make noise, and they're so dirty, and—

    Olga
    I see.

    Oblomov
    I really don't.

    Olga
    There's something I must tell you.

    Oblomov
    What is it?

    Olga
    It's rather important.

    Oblomov
    Well?

    (Oblomov quits his post at the door and Tarantyev enters. Olga and Oblomov spring apart.)

    Tarantyev
    I must have dropped some money here, brother. Did you find five silver roubles?

    Oblomov
    Good God!

    Tarantyev
    Olga Sergeyevna. (bowing)

    Olga
    Good day, Mr. Tarantyev.

    Tarantyev
    Fancy meeting you here.

    Olga
    I came to visit Mr. Oblomov, who I heard was ill.

    Tarantyev
    Him, ill?

    Olga
    It was just a lie someone told me.

    Tarantyev
    The rumors people spread nowadays.

    Olga
    I am just going. (slyly) You must call on us, Mr. Tarantyev.

    Tarantyev (preening like a peacock) Tomorrow, if I may.

    Olga (frowning) Certainly, I shall expect you. (firmly) Goodbye, Mr. Oblomov. (exits)

    Oblomov (in agony) Please don't misunderstand. She was concerned for my health. Don't mention seeing her here.

    Tarantyev
    Seeing who here? There's no one here.

    Oblomov
    Thank you.

    Tarantyev
    Now, if I could only find that ten roubles I lost here. Lend it to me, Ilya. It will turn up eventually.

    Oblomov (prostrated) Gladly, gladly.

    SHORT CURTAIN OR BLACKOUT

    Scene 2

    The same, next morning. Zakhar is clearing up a bit. Oblomov is in the armchair. Zakhar picks up a woman's—well Goncharov said it was a woman's glove. Perhaps Olga had an odd shaped hand.)

    Zakhar
    Olga Sergeyevna must have left this.

    Oblomov
    Devil! Nothing of the sort! (rising) What are you talking about? It was a dressmaker who came to fit my shirts. How dare you invent such stories.

    Zakhar
    Why devil? What am I inventing? They are saying downstairs that—

    Oblomov
    What?

    Zakhar
    Why, Olga Sergeyevna was here—

    Oblomov
    And, how should they know? You and Anissya must have gossiped—

    Zakhar (indignant) I did not—

    Oblomov
    Get out, you venomous creature—

    (Deeply wounded, Zakhar leaves. Oblomov paces briefly, then resumes his seat in the armchair. Enter Madame Pshenitsyn. She resembles a plump doll that cries "mama" and "papa". She is pretty, affable, and totally unaware of the effect she has on men. She wears a shawl that covers her ample bosom, but occasionally slides loose.)

    Madame
    I've been darning your socks today.

    Oblomov (rising) How kind of you.

    Madame
    It's nothing. It's my job to look after things. You have no one to sort them for you.

    Oblomov
    Just throw them away. Why should you spend your time on such rubbish? I can buy new ones.

    Madame
    Throw them away! But, why? These can be mended.

    Oblomov
    Do sit down, please. Why do you stand?

    Madame
    No, thank you. This is our wash day. I must get the clothes ready.

    Oblomov (with his eyes fixed on her neck and bosom) You're a wonder, not a housekeeper.

    Madame
    Well, then, shall I darn the socks?

    Oblomov (still cannot take his eyes off her) Since you are so kind, it would be a great favor; but I am really ashamed to give you so much trouble.

    Madame
    Not at all—

    Oblomov
    I don't know how to thank you—

    Madame
    That's all right. (starting to leave)

    Oblomov
    Why are you in such a hurry? Do sit down. (practically pushing her into a chair) Stay a little. (pause) Listen, my servants talk a lot of nonsense, but don't believe them, for Heaven's sake.

    Madame
    What are they saying?

    Oblomov
    They are saying that a young lady comes to visit me.

    Madame
    It's none of our business what visitors our tenants may have, is it?

    Oblomov
    Don't believe it. It isn't a young lady at all. Just a dressmaker that is making some shirts for me.

    Madame
    But it's all right for you to have visitors.

    Oblomov (hotly) It was a dressmaker!

    Madame
    But, it makes no difference. (rising) Anyway, I have to go.

    Oblomov (coyly, holding her in the chair) What if I won't let you?

    Madame (easily, not disconcerted) Please, let me go. I have to prepare dinner.

    Oblomov (distracted by the thought of dinner) What are we having?

    Madame
    Salmon—your favorite.

    Oblomov
    Excellent. You always remember what I like.

    Madame
    And, what am I here for?

    Oblomov
    You should get married.

    Madame
    And, who would marry me, with two children?

    Oblomov
    Lots of men, lots of men. (very gallant) I've noticed how pretty you are— I can't help noticing—

    Madame
    Mr. Oblomov—

    Oblomov
    Tell me, what if I fell in love with you—?

    Madame (smiling a Mona Lisa smile) Pish—

    Oblomov
    Would you love me?

    Madame
    Why not? God commanded us to love everyone.

    Oblomov
    And if I stole a kiss?

    Madame
    Take care—

    (Oblomov kisses her lightly on the cheek. Madame shows no embarrassment, but stands like a horse when its collar is being put on.)

    Madame
    Do you still want to see my brother about cancelling the lease?

    Oblomov
    No. (hoarsely) I, I shall stay longer—than I intended. It's very— cozy—and restful here.

    Madame
    I really must get back to my kitchen. (darting out)

    (Zakhar enters. He is still upset.)

    Oblomov
    What do you want?

    Zakhar
    A visitor for you.

    Oblomov
    Who is it? Tarantyev or Alekseyev?

    Zakhar
    Mr. Stolz.

    Oblomov
    Stolz? Good Heavens, what will he say when he sees—? (looking around for a way out) Tell him, I have gone out.

    (Enter Stolz.)

    Stolz
    Have I disturbed you?

    Oblomov (uneasily) Where are you coming from? How did you find me? How long are you staying?

    Stolz
    Finding you was easy. But, I shan't stay more than a few days.

    Oblomov (a little relieved) Ahh—

    Stolz (sternly) Well, Ilya? (pause) Then, it's never.

    Oblomov
    What do you mean, never?

    Stolz
    You have forgotten "now or never".

    Oblomov
    I am not the same now as I was then.

    Stolz
    Why didn't you join me in Paris?

    Oblomov
    I was—prevented.

    Stolz
    Olga? That's wonderful. When is the wedding?

    Oblomov
    No, no. You mustn't say that. We're not—

    Stolz
    She turned you down?

    Oblomov
    Not, no, that is to say—

    Stolz
    Did you make an offer?

    Oblomov
    No. No, I didn't.

    Stolz
    No. Hmmm. Are you unhappy?

    Oblomov (honestly) No. It's better this way.

    Stolz
    You're letting me down, old boy. As for Olga—

    Oblomov
    Don't speak of it. Don't recall it. It's over. I was not worthy of so energetic a woman. I knew it from the beginning. If I've caused her pain— The thought that I've made her suffer is a burden to me.

    Stolz
    You really are a soul as clear as crystal.

    Oblomov
    It is quiet and restful here. No one disturbs me in my work.

    Stolz (astonished) What work?

    Oblomov
    Oh, I've almost completed my five year plan for reorganizing my estate.

    Stolz
    Well, now there is nothing to prevent you from joining me in Paris. Let us go next week.

    Oblomov
    But all my belongings are here. I can't go just like that.

    Stolz
    You don't take your furniture on a trip.

    Oblomov
    My health isn't what it used to be—

    Stolz
    You must come to yourself, Ilya. I will not leave you in peace.

    Oblomov
    Life!

    Stolz
    What about it?

    Oblomov
    It disturbs one, gives a body no peace. I wish I could lie down and sleep forever—

    Stolz
    Fine sort of life! You want to put the light out and remain in darkness. Oh, I wish I could live two or three hundred years! How much one could do then!

    Oblomov
    You are different. You have wings, you fly! You are not fat, the back of your head doesn't itch.

    Stolz
    Nonsense! Man was created to arrange life for himself. You had wings once, but you cut them off.

    Oblomov (pathetically) Where are they, those wings? I don't know how to do anything.

    Stolz
    You don't want to know! There isn't a man living who can't do something.

    Oblomov
    There's me.

    Stolz
    You can do it.

    Oblomov
    There's no going back.

    Stolz
    Go forward.

    Oblomov
    No, I can't go forward either. I'm stuck—right where I am.

    Stolz
    What shall I tell Olga?

    Oblomov
    Say you haven't seen me.

    Stolz
    She won't believe that.

    Oblomov
    Tell her I'm dead.

    Stolz
    I can't do that.

    Oblomov
    For all practical purposes—

    Stolz
    Do you mean what I think you mean?

    Oblomov
    Ah—yes.

    (Enter Madame Pshenitsyn.)

    Madame
    I just thought you might want some more desert, Ilya dear.

    Oblomov
    Katrinka, you shouldn't.

    Madame
    Never mind. (she puts the desert down) I've got to go. (she curtsies to Stolz) My stove is waiting.

    (Stolz watches this exchange with growing wonder.)

    Stolz
    All right. I'll tell Olga. She'll be hurt. I'll lie to her. I'll say you're living on memories of her. And I'll say nothing about Katrinka?

    Oblomov
    What do you mean?

    Stolz
    You know very well, or you wouldn't be blushing. I am beginning to think you love her.

    Oblomov
    What next?

    Stolz
    Mind you don't fall into the pit. An uneducated woman.

    Oblomov
    And, why does one need an educated woman, may I ask?

    Stolz
    Ilya.

    Oblomov
    What good are they?

    Stolz
    You speak with such heat.

    Oblomov
    What are you talking about?

    Stolz
    I see what's happening.

    Oblomov
    Nothing's happening.

    Stolz
    Goodbye, Ilya.

    Oblomov
    Goodbye.

    (Stolz leaves. After a moment Tarantyev enters.)

    Tarantyev
    How do you do, neighbor? Have you said goodbye to your benefactor?

    Oblomov
    You still don't like him?

    Tarantyev
    I should like to hang him!

    Oblomov
    What for?

    Tarantyev
    Isn't he trying to persuade you to leave? I have settled you here, have found a perfect treasure of a woman for you! I have assured peace and comfort for you, have simply showered benefits on you, and you turn your back on me for that Teuton.

    Oblomov
    Don't worry, I'm staying. I think I will go lie in the garden hammock.

    (Oblomov goes out, Madame comes in a moment later.)

    Madame
    I don't like this German.

    Tarantyev
    Yes, the devil brought him back.

    Madame
    He will take my Oblomov away— (blubbering)

    Tarantyev
    You are too easily scared. The German may be angry and shout—Germans always do—but Oblomov will never leave now.

    Madame (cheering up) Is that so? Well, let's have a little vodka. (goes to table and pours)

    Tarantyev
    Meanwhile, I'll tell you what I must do—

    Madame
    No—I'll tell you.

    Tarantyev
    Well?

    Madame
    He comes to my room very often— You speak to him and say it isn't right to bring disgrace upon a family—tell him that people are talking—that I had a suitor—a rich merchant, but now that he has heard about Oblomov spending his time with me, he has backed out—

    Tarantyev
    Well, what then? He will be frightened, get into bed, sigh—and turn from side to side like a pig, that's all. What's the advantage?

    Madame
    You will see; he hates a scandal.

    Tarantyev
    I called on Olga Sergeyevna. I believe she likes me.

    Madame
    And, why not? Many women like a man who is a little—uncouth.

    Tarantyev
    And, if I should marry her—what a catch!

    Madame
    Go to her.

    Tarantyev
    I shall make her an offer.

    Madame
    Do—

    Tarantyev
    I will.

    BLACKOUT

    Scene 3

    Oblomov's bedroom about eight months later. It is the same room, but it has undergone some changes. The bed has moved into the central position. It has somewhat the appearance of a sickroom, or at any rate of a room from which the occupant is never absent. Everything has been sacrificed to comfort. Soft pillows line the chairs. Oblomov lies propped up in bed, stuffed between massive pillows. He is in his dressing gown. Madame Pshenitsyn sits by him spooning soup into his mouth.

    Madame
    Do you like it, my Ilya?

    Oblomov
    It's delicious.

    Madame
    It's my special recipe. (she dips out a spoonful more)

    Oblomov
    Mmm!

    Madame
    Wait a minute, I'll give you fish. The best sturgeon.

    Oblomov
    Don't trouble yourself. (he slurps his food and Madame wipes his chin) Zakhar! Zakhar!

    (Zakhar reels in, staggering drunk.)

    Zakhar (in mock English accent) You rang, sir!

    Oblomov (shocked) Zakhar, you're drunk. You should be ashamed of yourself. It's the middle of the day, too.

    Zakhar
    I didn't invent drunkenness. Why shouldn't I be drunk? I have nothing to do. (pointing accusingly at Madame) SHE does everything for you. I don't even get to pull off your boots anymore. (weeping)

    Oblomov
    But Zakhar, I never get out of bed. Do you expect me to wear boots in bed?

    Zakhar
    You never even order me to sweep up, either.

    Oblomov
    But Madame keeps the place spotless.

    Zakhar
    So, why shouldn't I be drunk? Being drunk doesn't prevent me from doing nothing—cos I have nothing to do.

    Oblomov
    Please go fetch a pie from the kitchen.

    Zakhar
    But I'm drunk. How can you ask a drunk to go fetch a pie? It's unreasonable.

    Oblomov
    Zakhar! Fetch it now!

    Zakhar (aside) Now, that's what I like to hear. (aloud, grumbling) When am I to be released from this misery, Lord? (he staggers off, delighted)

    (Enter Alekseyev.)

    Alekseyev
    Greetings, Ilya.

    Oblomov
    Ah, Alekseyev. Glad you've come. You're just in time for lunch.

    Alekseyev
    Well, I can't eat.

    Oblomov
    But, the food's delicious—

    Alekseyev
    All the more reason, I'm on a diet. Greetings, Madame Pshenitsyn.

    Madame
    Greetings, Mr. Alekseyev.

    Oblomov
    Tell me something.

    Alekseyev
    There's nothing to tell.

    Oblomov
    How can that be? You go to people—to visit.

    Alekseyev
    Well, nothing much. Madame Tarantyev has had a baby.

    Oblomov
    A baby?

    Alekseyev
    Yes. Sleepy little fellow. I expect Tarantyev will be by to brag about it.

    Oblomov
    Oh—I'm so glad to hear there was a safe delivery.

    Alekseyev
    Olga Sergeyevna is fine. But she's been awfully bad tempered since she got married.

    Oblomov
    I am sorry she's not at ease.

    Alekseyev
    She gives that lout Tarantyev what for. I saw them together the other day. She marches him about like a drill sergeant.

    Oblomov
    I'm sure she would do that to any man. (aside) There, but for the grace of God—

    Alekseyev
    She's been spending most of her time in bed recently. You two have a lot in common.

    Oblomov (uneasily) Oh, I think not. (changing the subject) Let's talk about politics— what's the news?

    Alekseyev
    Oh, the English have recalled their Ambassador.

    Oblomov
    To what country?

    Alekseyev
    To Spain or Turkey, I think.

    Oblomov
    I suppose it makes little difference.

    (Zakhar returns with the pie. He is still drunk. He clumsily places the pie on the table near Madame.)

    Oblomov
    Go set a place for Mr. Alekseyev.

    Zakhar (aside) Ah. That's more like it. (aloud) What next?

    (Zakhar goes out. A thunderous noise is heard. Alekseyev cringes.)

    Oblomov
    It must be Tarantyev.

    Tarantyev (entering) Good morning, friend, good morning. Well, you look as though you were well cared for. Madame Pshenitsyn. (bowing)

    Oblomov
    Everything is just perfect. I need hardly move. Madame is a wonder. She sees to my every comfort.

    Tarantyev
    You see. I knew it would suit you perfectly. And you wanted to move away.

    Oblomov
    That would have been a great mistake. I like it here.

    Tarantyev
    Well, I am a father—how about that? A bouncing baby boy. I've named him Ilya, after you.

    Oblomov (uneasily) That's very kind.

    Tarantyev
    Cute little mite. Looks just like his mother. But he sleeps all the time—never seen a baby so—torpid.

    Oblomov
    Then he is well named. (pause) Why don't you offer Alekseyev a cigar?

    Tarantyev
    Eh? Is that sniveling creature here? Sorry—didn't see you—have a cigar in honor of my child.

    Madame
    Oh dear, dear. I almost forgot the meat. (she rushes off)

    Tarantyev
    Yes, that's virility for you. One turn in the hay—and she's pregnant. It takes a real man to do that.

    Alekseyev
    Don't boast.

    Tarantyev
    Silence, weasel! And tell that cousin of yours to stop writing me letters.

    Alekseyev
    I told you before, I have no cousin.

    Tarantyev
    A likely story. Tell him, if he keeps it up, I'll throttle him—like this— (he squeezes Alekseyev by the neck till he turns red, then purple) Just like that.

    (Enter Stolz.)

    Oblomov
    Is it you, Stolz?

    (Tarantyev releases Alekseyev and makes a gesture of distaste.)

    Stolz
    It's me. Are you well?

    Oblomov
    In the very pink of health.

    Stolz
    But, why are you like that?

    Oblomov
    Oh, my landlady pampers me.

    Stolz
    Why didn't you follow me to Paris, as you promised?

    Oblomov
    What am I to tell you? You know me and you mustn't ask.

    Stolz
    And you just lay in bed?

    Oblomov
    My landlady occasionally rolls the bed into the garden in the summer.

    Stolz
    Good heavens, you can't stay like this.

    Oblomov
    Why not?

    Stolz
    It's unnatural.

    Oblomov
    Don't speak so loud; she might hear you.

    Stolz
    Who?

    Oblomov
    My landlady.

    Stolz
    What of it? Let her.

    Oblomov
    Oh, no. She might actually think I meant to leave.

    Stolz
    You're done for, Ilya. Come to your senses.

    Oblomov
    But, I have. Why try to change one's nature? I'm happy this way.

    Stolz
    But, what about your dreams?

    Oblomov
    But, I still have them. I dream all day. Seriously, Stolz, don't disturb the past. Don't remind me. I have grown into this little world. Forcibly tear me from it and I will perish like an uprooted tree.

    Stolz
    Is this you, Ilya? You favor your landlady over me— What is that woman to you?

    Oblomov
    She is my wife.

    Stolz
    I'll arrange an annulment.

    Oblomov
    What for? We are very happy.

    Tarantyev
    Why don't you just leave him alone? Can't you see he's happy this way? Go back to Germany and work all day long. We Russians have better things to do.

    Stolz
    I'm leaving—and I won't come back. But, we're still friends, Ilya?

    Oblomov
    Of course—I love you still. I just can't take your way.

    (Stolz embraces Oblomov with tears in his eyes. Tarantyev makes disparaging gestures unseen by either Oblomov or Stolz.)

    Oblomov
    Goodbye, friend of my youth.

    (Stolz hurries out.)

    Tarantyev
    At last, now we'll have some peace over here. (going towards the door)

    (Madame Oblomov enters with a meat dish.)

    Tarantyev (to Madame) You're a saint to endure this. How do you manage?

    Madame (smiling) Oh, we know how to care for our guests.

    (Zakhar returns)

    Zakhar (to Tarantyev) You. When are you going to return those trousers?

    Tarantyev (aiming a kick at Zakhar) Are you at it, again? I returned them. (to Oblomov) By the way, Ilya, can I use your watch? You don't need it.

    (Oblomov is about to reply, but Madame Oblomov spoons some meat into his mouth.)

    Madame
    Is it good, darling? See how mumsie takes care of her dear one.

    (Tarantyev makes off with the watch as)

    THE CURTAIN FALLS.