The Private and Intimate Life of the House

BOLKONSKY: I've aged I've aged so very much I fall asleep at the table My napkin drops to the floor I'm full of childish vanities I forget things And I live in the past I've aged so very much People enjoy me though I come in for tea in my old-fashioned coat And powered wig And I tell stories And utter scathing critiques This old-fashioned house With its gigantic mirrors and powered footmen And this stern, shrewd old man A relic of the past century With his gentle daughter Is a majestic and agreeable spectacle MARY: But besides the couple hours during which we have guests There are also twenty-two hours in the day During which the private and intimate life of the house continues BOLKONSKY: Bring me my slippers MARY: Yes father yes father BOLKONSKY: Bring me my wine MARY: Yes father yes father Oh father And I never go anywhere Never invited For who would take care of him Who would take care MARY & BOLKONSKY: And I have no friends No no no BOLKONSKY: Girl, all my friends are dead MARY: No one BOLKONSKY: All my friends are dead MARY: Time is moving It's now or never My fate is slipping past me BOLKONSKY: Silence! Silence! MARY: Yes father yes father BOLKONSKY: You shut your damn mouth girl Shut your damn mouth I can hurt you MARY & BOLKONSKY: I can hurt you MARY: But I never ever ever ever would This is just how it is It's just how he is I'm always to blame He could beat me Or treat me like a dog Make me fetch wood or water And that's just how it is Oh father I love you father Time is moving It's now or never I've abandoned the hope of getting married BOLKONSKY: Ah! What's this, a young suitor? Ah, come in come in But don't sit down Don't sit down I'm cold to you Yes I'm mean to you Now be gone be gone be gone And don't come back! Maybe I'll marry someone myself Some cheap French thing Oh that offends you does it? Ah, come in my dear, come in my dear, come in MARY: And he draws her to him And he kisses her hand Embraces her affectionately And I flush and run out of the room BOLKONSKY: Come back here Let an old man have his fun Wipe away your tears girl I don't want your tears MARY: On that horrible woman Vile and inhuman She's using you, Papa Wants your money Papa To take advantage of your weakness like that It's disgusting My voice breaks BOLKONSKY: It's my money And I'll throw it where I want Not at you! And not at Andrey's harlot! It's my money, my money, Mine all mine! Insolent girl! Insolent girl! Where-? Where-? Where, Where are my glasses? Where, where are they?! Where are my glasses?! Oh God- Oh God I'm frightened Oh God I've aged, I've aged so very much Where are my glasses?! Where are they?! Where?! Where are my glasses? Where are they? Where? Where are my glasses?! MARY: They're there upon his head They're there upon his head The pride of sacrifice Gathers in my soul They're there upon his head And he forgets things He lives in the past He falls asleep at the table His napkin drops to the floor His shaking head Sinks over his plate He is old and feeble And I dare to judge him I disgust myself I disgust myself