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.
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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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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.