The Masquerade, a treasured four-act play by Mikhail Yurievich Lermontov, is a classic work of Russian romanticism. In 1830s St. Petersburg, aristocrat Arbenin and Nina, his wife, attend a masked ball. In a tragic case of mistaken identity, Arbenin convinces himself that his wife is romantically involved with Prince Zvezdich. Arbenin is tragically blinded by jealousy and pride, and then a disaster happens . . . A celebration and examination of a classic work from the Golden Age of Russian culture, the first poetic translation by Russian American professor Alfred E. Karpovich brings The Masquerade to a new, English-speaking audience. A work of great importance, this drama examines the collision between true love and the societal prejudice of honor and dignity. In translation, it casts an inquisitive eye at the state of human dignity in the twenty-first century. The Masquerade A POETIC DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS By MIKHAIL YURIEVICH LERMONTOV, Alfred Karpovich iUniverse, Inc. Copyright © 2013 Mikhail Yurievich Lermontov All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4759-7617-5 Contents Introduction: Lermontov, his Time, Life and Legacy.........................xiA Note from the Translator.................................................xvCast of Characters.........................................................xviiAct 1......................................................................1Act 2......................................................................47Act 3......................................................................101Act 4......................................................................127Appendices.................................................................A. Scenario................................................................151B. Synopsis................................................................157C. Acknowledgments.........................................................159 CHAPTER 1 ACT 1 SCENE 1 Subscene 1 (Players in the playing-house. Prince Zvezdich, Kazarin, and Sprich.Some punters are punting and keeping the bank.Others are standing around.) First Player: Ivan Ilyich,Please, let me place a bet. Dealer: As you will, sir. First Player: üne hundred roubles. Banker: It's all right. Second Player: Good luck to you. Third Player: It looks so bad. You'll need good luck to get it back. Fourth Player: Here goes! Third Player: Let me place a bet! Second Player: All in? That'll sting you! Fourth Player: Listen, my friend,Unless you shoot it high,You won't get your pie. Third Player (whispering to the first one) : Keep your eyes open. Zvezdich: The whole thing works! second player: Hey, Prince, please keep your wrath restrained,Don't let it spoil your blood. Zvezdich: Keep your advice refrained,At least, for now. Dealer: It's covered. Zvezdich: Damn it. Dealer: Please, kindly pay. second Player (mockingly) : I see that you, in fervor, mayGamble everything away.What should I payFor these epaulettes? Zvezdich: They are with honor gotten:My epaulettes are not for bail or sale. Second Player (grinding his teeth and leaving) :You'd better be more prudentWith your bad luck and at your age. (Zvezdich, after a glass of lemonade, is sitting down onthe side and is now engrossed in thoughts) Sprich (with a show of sympathy): With money, Prince, I'll help you right away,And in a hundred years you mayReturn the silly interest. (Zvezdich bows down coldly and turns away.Sprich takes leave dissatisfied) Subscene 2 (Arbenin and others; Arbenin enters, bows, approaches the table;then he beckons to Kazarin and steps aside with him.) Arbenin: Why aren't you playing, my Kazarin? Kazarin: I look around, my friend, and seeYou've become a real "barin",Married and rich, my dear,You quite forgot your chums and players here. Arbenin: Oh, yes! It has been a long time. Kazarin: What keeps you busy all the time? Arbenin: Love is the name of business. Kazarin: Taking your wife out to balls? Arbenin: No. Kazarin: Gambling? Arbenin: Not really ... I sneak! I see new faces here. Who's that sport? Kazarin: Sprich!You'll meet him right away.Adam Petrovich! (Sprich comes up and bows) Here's a friend of mine, Arbenin. Sprich: I know you. Arbenin: I don't recall, Sir, meeting you before. Sprich: I've heard of you so much heretofore,By rumors, so that it became my dreamTo meet you once in person. Arbenin: I regret,Of you I know not a thing,But you yourself will tell me everything. (Both bow to each other again.Sprich makes a wry face) I cannot really like him.I've seen a lot of ugly mugs,But that oneWasn't made for fun.What spooksIs his inhuman looks!Not quite the devil either ...The tiny bugles of his eyesAs well as his malicious smiles ...What may his ugly face presentI wouldn't be able to invent! Kazarin: My friend,He mayLook devilish, indeed,But he appearsA good friend in need.The minute you address himThe money's there;To decent peopleHe is most fair;With "Jesuits" he's a "saint",A wic