ACT ONE
A late afternoon in June. A garden beneath the branches of old trees. Part of a house with a veranda can be seen. On the path a table is laid for tea and snacks. Benches, chairs, a guitar. It’s overcast and heavy, the sense of a storm brewing.
NANA, a slow-moving woman in her seventies, sits knitting. ASTROV, a doctor in his forties, is strolling back and forth. He’s a fine-looking man, but a sense of his mortality hangs about him, giving him a darker energy. Unseen beneath a pile of old coats VANYA sleeps on the veranda.
NANA. Will you stop walking up and down? You’re making me seasick.
ASTROV. I’m sorry…
NANA. Drink some tea.
ASTROV. I’m not sure I can.
NANA. Then be done with it and have a vodka.
ASTROV. You think I’m that bad? I don’t drink every single day you know!
NANA. Oh. I see. I didn’t realise.
ASTROV considers for a moment.
ASTROV. Nana?
NANA. Mm?
ASTROV. How long have we known each other?
NANA. How long? Too long! I’m joking. Well, a long time. Sonya’s mother was still alive, so…
ASTROV. That’s right.
NANA. So what – sixteen, seventeen years?
ASTROV. Yes, it must be. You think I’ve changed? In that time?
NANA. Oh God yes. You used to be gorgeous. Young and dashing – we were all mad about you. And now – well – you’re older…
ASTROV. Yes.
NANA. …Still handsome, there’s no denying that. We all like that. But also…
ASTROV. What…
NANA. …Well you drink now.
ASTROV. Yes.
NANA. So…
ASTROV. No, it’s true. I’m a completely different person, you’re right.
NANA. You’re not a completely different person but you’re a drinker now, and what of it? Good for you. So what?
ASTROV. You know why I drink, don’t you? Because I’m worn out! The moment I lie down, it’s bang bang at the door. Up and out to someone’s deathbed. Sometimes twenty miles away. And the rare nights when no one bangs at the door? Well you lie awake anyway – in dread of the knock that never comes! So of course you age and wither and get old. Who wouldn’t? That’s what happens.
NANA (shrugs. Almost to herself). If you can hold your drink, what of it?
ASTROV. You start going a bit wonky because you have to. I mean, look at this beard – have you seen it, Nana?
They laugh.
NANA. I like it!
ASTROV. No you don’t!
NANA. No I do! I don’t.
ASTROV. I mean everybody gets a bit… but you know… I just never really feel anything any more, that’s what it is. I never look forward to anything.
NANA (fondly, trying to rouse his spirits). Oh Doctor…
She holds out her hand to him. He comes to her.
ASTROV. Except you, Nana. I’ll always love you. When I was a little boy I had a lovely nana just like you. Gave me long deep hugs. I used to feel like nothing could harm me.
NANA. You remind me of someone too. Please – have a drink.
ASTROV (shakes his head). During Lent, earlier this year, I went up to Malitskóe – typhus epidemic. They’d thrown all the sick ones into huts – side by side on the floor, pigs coming in and out. Filthy. Depressing. I never stopped all day. Nothing to eat. By the time I got home I could hardly stand.
Bang bang bang on the door, they carry in this… boy. Trainee signalman. Stock car had sliced off half his foot. I got him up on the table, quickly gave him the chloroform and he – he just died. Right there. And just when you could really do without it – all my feelings came back. I felt like I had killed him. They were all looking at me – asking me if he was alright – and I just sat on the… Just covered my eyes. All I could think was why can’t it be a hundred or two hundred years from now. You know? We’ll all be gone, none of it will matter. I mean, the people then, will they even remember us? Have anything good to say about us? They’ll just forget all about us.
NANA. The people may not remember but God will.
VANYA is waking up on the veranda.
ASTROV (laughs mordantly). Yes! Well said, Nana. (Absently.) Yes.
VANYA. Yes! (Yawns and stretches, getting up, looking about.) Yes indeed! What were we talking about?
ASTROV. Typhus.
VANYA. Lovely.
ASTROV. Good sleep?
VANYA. Too good. Horrible black hole in the middle of the day. You see this is what’s happened! Ever since the professor and his young bride returned they’ve knocked me right off my beanpole. I take these stupid catnaps in the middle of the day which means I wander about awake all night. I’ve missed all the regular mealtimes, so I stuff my face with snacks which means I drink too much wine which means then I start into the liqueurs which inevitably lead me on to the spirits – which always knock me sideways – suddenly I wake up, I’ve missed my breakfast, I’ve missed my lunch, and the whole blasted nightmare starts all over again. It’s no good. I need to be occupied. I need to be worn out, because of all my…
ASTROV. Your nervous energy.
VANYA. Yes – my energy, it’s not nervous. It’s…
ASTROV. It’s edgy.
VANYA (enjoying his friend’s familiarity). It’s a little bit edgy. But ever since the professor came I’m… well Sonya’s quicker than me, and her eyesight’s better so she gets it all done before I even wake up so I’m…
ASTROV. You’re cast adrift.
VANYA. I’ve been cast adrift. Haven’t I, Nana?
NANA. The professor never even stirs till noon. Before he came we always ate our dinner at the normal hour of twelve o’clock in the afternoon, same as everyone else all over the world, didn’t we, Vanya?
VANYA. Yes, Nana.
NANA. You know what time the professor eats his dinner?
ASTROV. I don’t know.
NANA. Go on, guess.
ASTROV. I don’t know.
NANA. Six o’clock! Six o’clock in the evening!
VANYA. Six o’clock.
NANA. Six o’clock.
ASTROV. Good Lord.
NANA. Then up he sits the whole night, reading, writing, working, insists on keeping that poor young girl he’s married up with him, ‘attending his needs’. Suddenly then, at three o’clock in the morning, he’s ringing the bell…
ASTROV. What bell?
VANYA. He’s brought a bell.
NANA. We’re all supposed to come running.
VANYA. Everybody’s up.
NANA. ‘Tea! Tea for the professor!’ At three o’clock in the morning! I ask you. No one gets a moment’s rest.
ASTROV. How long are they staying?
VANYA. Staying? They’re not staying – they’re moving here!
ASTROV. To live?
VANYA. The university’s retired him off! Took his apartment back. He can’t afford to live in the city.
NANA (attending the hot water). I mean look at this. You know how long I’ve been keeping this hot water on the go now? Two hours. ‘Tea! Tea for the professor!’ he says two hours ago, then up he suddenly announces, ‘I’m going for a walk.’
VANYA. ‘A quick walk.’
NANA. A quick walk.
VANYA. ‘Quick inspection.’
NANA. Quick inspection. And we’re all supposed to just…
Voices and laughter are heard coming through the garden.
TELEGIN (in the distance, indistinct). So I ended up paying twice what I paid for it before I sold it for half what I got it for in the first place!
SEREBRYAKOV (in the distance). That’s very good!
Upstage, beneath the branches at the far end of the garden, SEREBRYAKOV, SONYA and TELEGIN are returning from their stroll…
NANA. Give you a pain up your backside…
VANYA. Look – he’ll hear you. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
SONYA. And you haven’t even seen what’s happening at the old forest yet, Papa.
TELEGIN. Yes, wait till you see up there.
SONYA. We can go tomorrow.
VANYA. Professor! Your tea is ready.
SEREBRYAKOV (on his way towards the house)....