Part IV, Chapter 22: "The Bear, A Joke in One Act" by Anton Chekhov

And in the barracks, never a Friday goes by without a dance; and, if you please, the military band plays music every day.

You know that when Mr. Popov died, life lost all its salt for me. It may seem to you that I am alive, but that's only conjecture!

And people want me to be calm and collected! Just now, on the way here, I met a tax officer and he asked me: why are you always so angry, Grigory Stepanovich?

So, your husband's dead, and you're in a mood and all that finicky stuff...and your steward's away somewhere; may he drop dead.

Nobody would say I was looking well! Dusty all over, boots dirty, unwashed, unkempt, straw on my waistcoat.

And you look so becoming in your mourning dress.

Three times I've fought duels over women; I've jilted twelve women, nine have jilted me!

There was a time when I played the fool; I became sentimental over women, used honeyed words, fawned on them, bowed and scraped.

I loved passionately, madly, every which way, devil take me, I chattered away like a magpie about the emancipation of women, ran through half my fortune as a result of my tender feelings; but now, if you will excuse me, I'm on to your ways!

I loved passionately, madly, every which way, devil take me, I chattered away like a magpie about the emancipation of women, ran through half my fortune as a result of my tender feelings; but now, if you will excuse me, I'm on to your ways!

Dark eyes, passionate eyes, ruby lips, dimpled cheeks; the moon, whispers, bated breath—for all that I wouldn't give a good goddamn.

Present company excepted, of course, but all women, young and old alike, are affected clowns, gossips, hateful, consummate liars to the marrow of their bones, vain, trivial, ruthless, outrageously illogical, and as far as this is concerned [taps on his forehead], well, excuse my frankness, any sparrow could give pointers to a philosopher in petticoats!

Present company excepted, of course, but all women, young and old alike, are affected clowns, gossips, hateful, consummate liars to the marrow of their bones, vain, trivial, ruthless, outrageously illogical, and as far as this is concerned [taps on his forehead], well, excuse my frankness, any sparrow could give pointers to a philosopher in petticoats!

Present company excepted, of course, but all women, young and old alike, are affected clowns, gossips, hateful, consummate liars to the marrow of their bones, vain, trivial, ruthless, outrageously illogical, and as far as this is concerned [taps on his forehead], well, excuse my frankness, any sparrow could give pointers to a philosopher in petticoats!

Look at one of those romantic creatures: muslin, ethereal demigoddess, a thousand raptures, and you look into her soul—a common crocodile!

Look at one of those romantic creatures: muslin, ethereal demigoddess, a thousand raptures, and you look into her soul—a common crocodile!

I loved him passionately, with all my being, as only a young intellectual woman can love; I gave him my youth, my happiness, my life, my fortune; he was my life's breath; I worshiped him as if I were a heathen, and...and, what good did it do—this best of men himself deceived me shamelessly at every step of the way.

He squandered my money, made a mockery of my feelings...and, in spite of all that, I loved him and was true to him...and besides, now that he is dead, I am still faithful and constant.

SMIRNOV: [Laughs contemptuously.] Widow's weeds...I don't know what you take me for! As if I didn't know why you wear that black outfit and bury yourself in these four walls!

I don't want to talk to impudent people!

You're nothing but a crude bear! A brute! A monster!

And do you think just because you're one of those romantic creations, that you have the right to insult me with impunity?

MRS. POPOV: [Indignantly brandishes her revolver.] Let's fight! I challenge you!

MRS. POPOV: [Indignantly brandishes her revolver.] Let's fight! I challenge you!

[Prolonged kiss, LUKA enters with an ax, the GARDENER with a rake, the COACHMAN with a pitchfork, and WORKMEN with cudgels.]