The Boor

Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book The Boor by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, Library of Alexandria
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: Anton Pavlovich Chekhov ISBN: 9781465589927
Publisher: Library of Alexandria Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
ISBN: 9781465589927
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint:
Language: English
SCENE: A well-furnished reception-room in MRS. POPOV’S home. MRS. POPOV is discovered in deep mourning, sitting upon a sofa, gazing steadfastly at a photograph. LUKA is also present. LUKA: It isn’t right, ma’am. You’re wearing yourself out! The maid and the cook have gone looking for berries; everything that breathes is enjoying life; even the cat knows how to be happy—slips about the courtyard and catches birds—but you hide yourself here in the house as though you were in a cloister. Yes, truly, by actual reckoning you haven’t left this house for a whole year. MRS. POPOV: And I shall never leave it—why should I? My life is over. He lies in his grave, and I have buried myself within these four walls. We are both dead. LUKA: There you are again! It’s too awful to listen to, so it is! Nikolai Michailovitch is dead; it was the will of the Lord, and the Lord has given him eternal peace. You have grieved over it and that ought to be enough. Now it’s time to stop. One can’t weep and wear mourning forever! My wife died a few years ago. I grieved for her. I wept a whole month—and then it was over. Must one be forever singing lamentations? That would be more than your husband was worth! [He sighs.] You have forgotten all your neighbors. You don’t go out and you receive no one. We live—you’ll pardon me—like the spiders, and the good light of day we never see. All the livery is eaten by mice—as though there weren’t any more nice people in the world! But the whole neighborhood is full of gentlefolk. The regiment is stationed in Riblov—officers—simply beautiful! One can’t see enough of them! Every Friday a ball, and military music every day. Oh, my dear, dear ma’am, young and pretty as you are, if you’d only let your spirits live—! Beauty can’t last forever. When ten short years are over, you’ll be glad enough to go out a bit and meet the officers—and then it’ll be too late.
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
SCENE: A well-furnished reception-room in MRS. POPOV’S home. MRS. POPOV is discovered in deep mourning, sitting upon a sofa, gazing steadfastly at a photograph. LUKA is also present. LUKA: It isn’t right, ma’am. You’re wearing yourself out! The maid and the cook have gone looking for berries; everything that breathes is enjoying life; even the cat knows how to be happy—slips about the courtyard and catches birds—but you hide yourself here in the house as though you were in a cloister. Yes, truly, by actual reckoning you haven’t left this house for a whole year. MRS. POPOV: And I shall never leave it—why should I? My life is over. He lies in his grave, and I have buried myself within these four walls. We are both dead. LUKA: There you are again! It’s too awful to listen to, so it is! Nikolai Michailovitch is dead; it was the will of the Lord, and the Lord has given him eternal peace. You have grieved over it and that ought to be enough. Now it’s time to stop. One can’t weep and wear mourning forever! My wife died a few years ago. I grieved for her. I wept a whole month—and then it was over. Must one be forever singing lamentations? That would be more than your husband was worth! [He sighs.] You have forgotten all your neighbors. You don’t go out and you receive no one. We live—you’ll pardon me—like the spiders, and the good light of day we never see. All the livery is eaten by mice—as though there weren’t any more nice people in the world! But the whole neighborhood is full of gentlefolk. The regiment is stationed in Riblov—officers—simply beautiful! One can’t see enough of them! Every Friday a ball, and military music every day. Oh, my dear, dear ma’am, young and pretty as you are, if you’d only let your spirits live—! Beauty can’t last forever. When ten short years are over, you’ll be glad enough to go out a bit and meet the officers—and then it’ll be too late.

More books from Library of Alexandria

Cover of the book Incidents of Travel in Greece, Turkey, Russia, and Poland (Complete) by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book The Indian Bangle by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book Peter Parley's Tales About America and Australia by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book Beiwerke Zum Studium Der Anthropophyteia by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book The Expositor's Bible: The Psalms, Volume III by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book Golden Alaska: A Complete Account to Date of the Yukon Valley by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book The Life of Marie de Medicis (Complete) by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book The Christmas Kalends of Provence and Some Other Provençal Festivals by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book Hymns From the German Translated by Frances Elizabeth Cox by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book Michel Strogoff De Moscou a Irkoutsk by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45 by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book The Hindoos as They Are: A Description of the Manners, Customs and the Inner Life of Hindoo Society in Bengal by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book The Masculine Cross and Ancient Sex Worship by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book The Science of the Stars by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Cover of the book The Book of Am-Tuat by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy