language of the poets, I have loved my pure Muse but I have not respected
her; I have been unfaithful to her and often took her to places that were
not fit for her to go to. But you are serious, strong, and faithful. The
difference between us is great, as you see, but nevertheless when I read
you, and now when I have met you, I think that we have something in common.
I don't know if I am right, but I like to think it.




TO HIS BROTHER ALEXANDR.

MOSCOW,
November 20, 1887.


Well, the first performance [Translator's Note: "Ivanov."] is over. I
will tell you all about it in detail. To begin with, Korsh promised me
ten rehearsals, but gave me only four, of which only two could be called
rehearsals, for the other two were tournaments in which _messieurs les
artistes_ exercised themselves in altercation and abuse. Davydov and Glama
were the only two who knew their parts; the others trusted to the prompter
and their own inner conviction.

Act One.--I am behind the stage in a small box that looks like a prison
cell. My family is in a box of the benoire and is trembling. Contrary to my
expectations, I am cool and am conscious of no agitation. The actors are
nervous and excited, and cross themselves. The curtain goes up ... the
actor whose benefit night it is comes on. His uncertainty, the way that he
forgets his part, and the wreath that is presented to him make the play