BELYAEV

Yes, sir.

RAKITIN

To tell the truth, the air’s not all that fresh today. It’s terribly hot, but here, under these lindens, in the shade, it’s tolerable enough. (Pause) Have you seen Natalya Petrovna?

BELYAEV

I met her just now . . . She and Vera Alexandrovna have gone in.

RAKITIN

Wasn’t it you and Vera Alexandrovna I saw here about half an hour ago?

BELYAEV

Yes, sir . . . We were taking a stroll.

RAKITIN

Ah! (Takes him under the arm) Well, how do you like life in the country?

BELYAEV

I like the country. There’s only one trouble: the hunting’s no good here.

RAKITIN

So you’re a hunter?

BELYAEV

Yes, sir . . . And you?

RAKITIN

Me? No. To be honest, I’m a poor shot. I’m too lazy.

BELYAEV

I’m lazy, too . . . except about taking walks.

RAKITIN

Ah! And what about reading?

BELYAEV

No, I like reading. I get tired of studying for a long time, especially the same subject.

RAKITIN

(Smiling) Well, and talking with the ladies, for instance?

BELYAEV

Eh! You’re laughing at me . . . It’s more like I’m afraid of the ladies.

RAKITIN

(Slightly embarrassed) What makes you think . . . why on earth should I laugh at you?

BELYAEV

I just . . . never mind! (Pause) Tell me, where can I get gunpowder around here?

RAKITIN

In town, I think. It’s sold there under the name of poppy seed. Do you need good stuff?

BELYAEV

No, any kind. It’s not for shooting, it’s for fireworks.

RAKITIN

So you know how to . . .

BELYAEV

Yes. I’ve already picked a spot—across the pond. I’ve heard it’s Natalya Petrovna’s birthday in a week, so it will work out nicely.

RAKITIN

Natalya Petrovna will be very pleased by such attention from you . . . She likes you, Alexei Nikolaich, let me tell you.

BELYAEV

That’s very flattering . . . Ah, by the way, Mikhail Alexandrych, it seems you get a magazine. Could you let me read it?

RAKITIN

If you like, I’ll be glad to . . . There’s some good poetry in it.

BELYAEV

I’m not a poetry lover.

RAKITIN

Why is that?

BELYAEV

I’m just not. Humorous verse seems forced to me, and besides there’s not much of it; and sentimental verse . . . I don’t know . . . I somehow don’t believe it.

RAKITIN

You prefer stories?

BELYAEV

Yes, sir, I like good stories . . . but critical articles—that’s what really gets to me.

RAKITIN

Why?

BELYAEV

They’re written from the heart . . .

RAKITIN

And you yourself—do you write?

BELYAEV

Oh, no, sir! It’s no good writing if God hasn’t given you talent. People will just laugh. And besides, here’s a surprising thing, please explain this to me: sometimes a man even seems intelligent, but the moment he gets a pen in his hand—all hell breaks loose. No, we’ve got no business writing—it’s good enough if we understand what’s written!