LITMIR.BIZ

      ACT ONE

      SUMMER 1833

       Premukhino, the Bakunin estate, a hundred and fifty miles north-west of Moscow.

       Interior, verandah, garden. There are places to sit in the garden, and a hammock. One setting is intended to serve for Act One.

      Family supper is coming to an end. At the table—ALEXANDER BAKUNIN (sixty-five) and his wife, VARVARA (forty-two); their daughters, LIUBOV (twenty-two), VARENKA (twenty-one), TATIANA (eighteen) and ALEXANDRA (seventeen); MISS CHAMBERLAIN, a young English governess; and BARON RENNE (thirty-six), a cavalry officer in uniform. Household servants (serfs), notably SEMYON, who is senior, attend the table as may be. ‘English’ dialogue is spoken with a Russian accent, except in the case of Miss Chamberlain. The tempo is lively. Alexander Bakunin's rule is benign despotism, but the family atmosphere is prevailingly democratic.

      ALEXANDER Speaking of which—Liubov, say something in English for the Baron.

      LIUBOV What do you want me to say, Papa?

      ALEXANDER All my daughters have been educated in five languages—call me a liberal if you like, I read Rousseau as a young man, I was there at the storming of the Bastille, not storming it personally but I remember my feelings were decidedly mixed, that's how liberal I was when I was nineteen. But education for women, yes indeed!—not just piano lessons and Russian grammar pour les filles Bakunin, though mind you, they write better Russian than I do—what a shame there's nothing worth reading (over his daughters’ protests), apart from …

      DAUGHTERS Pushkin!

      ALEXANDER … Pushkin. But I tell you, Baron, in choosing my eldest daughter you have chosen the cleverest—

      VARVARA I prefer Kozlov.

      ALEXANDER —brains before beauty, I wish I'd done the same—

      DAUGHTERS Oh shame!—Shame on you, Papa—I hereby protest on behalf of my beautiful sister—Don't you listen, Liubov—

      VARVARA Quiet when your father is speaking—

      MISS CHAMBERLAIN What did your father say?

      LIUBOV I take it as a compliment, Papa.

      VARVARA So do I.

      TATIANA The Baron doesn't think so, do you?

      RENNE No! No … Liubov is as beautiful as your wife is intelligent.

      ALEXANDER That's what I said. What a diplomat! Come on, Liubov, my darling, we're waiting.

      LIUBOV I'm sure the Baron doesn't want …

      ALEXANDRA I can, Papa! (She pops up, standing rigid. In ‘English’) ‘How do you do, Baron Renne! I say! charming weather, you do not think!'

       She sits just as suddenly, and Tatiana follows suit.

      TATIANA (in ‘English’) ‘The quality of mercy is not strained, it dropping like the gentle dew from heaven!’

       Tatiana sits. Alexander continues imperturbably.

      ALEXANDER I myself was educated in Italy. My doctorate in philosophy is from the University of Padua.

      MISS CHAMBERLAIN Jolly good effort, Tatiana.

      RENNE Really? Philosophy?

      VARVARA What did she say?

      ALEXANDER My dissertation was on worms.

      TATIANA

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