Act 2, Scene 2

In the country. A veranda covered by a gay awning; sunlight; flowers; SOPHIA KARÉNINA, LISA, her little boy and nurse.

Lisa (standing C. in door. To the little boy, smiling), Who do you think is on his way from the station?

Misha (excitedly). Who? Who?

Lisa. Papa.

Misha (rapturously). Papa’s coming! Papa’s coming!

[Exits L. through C. door.

Lisa (contentedly, to SOPHIA KARÉNINA). How much he loves Victor! As if he were his real father!

Sophia Karénina (on sofa L. knitting—back to audience). Tant mieux. Do you think he ever remembers his father?

Lisa (sighing). I can’t tell. Of course I’ve never said anything to him. What’s the use of confusing his little head? Yet sometimes I feel as though I ought. What do you think, Mama?

Sophia Karénina. I think it’s a matter of feeling. If you can trust your heart, let it guide you. What extraordinary adjustments death brings about! I confess I used to think very unkindly of Fédya, when he seemed a barrier to all this. (She makes a gesture with her hand.) But now I think of him as that nice boy who was my son’s friend, and a man who was capable of sacrificing himself for those he loved. (She knits.) I hope Victor hasn’t forgotten to bring me some wool.

Lisa. Here he comes. (LISA runs to the edge of the veranda.) There’s some one with him—a lady in a bonnet! Oh, it’s mother! How splendid! I haven’t seen her for an age!

[Enter ANNA PÁVLOVNA up C.

Anna Pávlovna (kissing LISA). My darling. (To SOPHIA KARÉNINA.) How do you do? Victor met me and insisted on my coming down.

[Sits bench L. C. beside SOPHIA.

Sophia Karénina. This is perfectly charming!

[Enter VICTOR and MÍSHA.

Anna Pávlovna. I did want to see Lisa and the boy. So now, if you don’t turn me out, I’ll stay till the evening train.

Karénin. (L. C., kissing his wife, his mother and the boy). Congratulate me—everybody—I’ve a bit of luck, I don’t have to go to town again for two days. Isn’t that wonderful?

Lisa. (R. C.). Two days! That’s glorious! We’ll drive over to the Hermitage to-morrow and show it to mother.

Anna Pávlovna. (holding the boy). He’s so like his father, isn’t he? I do hope he hasn’t inherited his father’s disposition.

Sophia Karénina. After all, Fédya’s heart was in the right place. Lisa. Victor thinks if he’d only been brought up more carefully everything would have been different.

Anna Pávlovna. Well, I’m not so sure about that, but I do feel sorry for him. I can’t think of him without wanting to cry.

Lisa. I know. That’s how Victor and I feel. All the bitterness is gone. There’s nothing left but a very tender memory.

Anna Pávlovna. (sighing). I’m sure of it. Lisa. Isn’t it funny? It all seemed so hopeless back there, and now see how beautifully everything’s come out!

Sophia Karénina. Oh, by the way, Victor, did you get my wool?

Karénin. I certainly did. (Brings a bag and takes out parcels.) Here’s the wool, here’s the eau-de-cologne, here are the letters—one on “Government Service” for you, Lisa—— (Hands her the letter. LISA opens letter, then strolls R, reading it, suddenly stops.) Well, Anna Pávlovna, I know you want to make yourself beautiful! I must tidy up, too. It’s almost dinner time. Lisa, you’ve put your another in the Blue Room, haven’t you?

[Pause.

[LISA is pale. She holds the letter with trembling hands and reads it, KARÉNIN seeing her.

What’s the matter, Lisa? What is it?

Lisa. He’s alive. He’s alive. My God! I shall never be free from him. (VICTOR crosses to LISA.) What does this mean? What’s going to happen to us?

Karénin (taking the letter and reading). I don’t believe it.

Sophia Karénina. What is it? (Rising.) What’s the matter? Why don’t you tell us?

Karénin. He’s alive! They’re accusing us of bigamy! It’s a summons for Lisa to go before the Examining Magistrate.

Anna Pávlovna. No—no! It can’t be!

Sophia Karénina. Oh, that horrible man!

Karénin. So it was all a lie!

Lisa (with a cry of rage). Oh! I hate him so! Victor!—Fédya!——My God! I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t know what I’m saying.

[Sinks in chair down R.

Anna Pávlovna (rising). He’s not really alive?

[Lights dim and out.

CURTAIN

(Source: 1918 translation by Arthur Hopkins for the production at Plymouth Theatre, New York.)