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A monologue from the play by Nikolai Gogol
Agafya
Honestly, this choosing business is so difficult. If there were just one or two, but four! Take your pick. Mr Anuchkin isn’t bad-looking, but he’s a bit skinny, of course.
And Mr Podkolyosin isn’t too bad, either. And truth to tell, though he’s rather stout, Mr Omelet’s still a fine figure of a man. So what am I to do, if you please?
Mr Zhevakin’s also a man of distinction. It really is difficult to decide, you can’t begin to describe it.
Now, if you could attach Mr Anuchkin’s lips to Mr Podkolyosin’s nose, and take some of Mr Zhevakin’s easy manner, and perhaps add Mr Omelet’s solid build, I could decide on the spot.
But now I’ve got to rack my brains! And it’s giving me a fearsome headache. I think it’d be best to draw lots.
Turn the whole matter over to God’s will, and whichever one comes out, that’ll be my husband.
I’ll write all their names on a bit of paper, roll them up tight, then so be it. (She goes to her desk, gets some paper and writes the names on them.)
Life’s so trying for a girl, especially when she’s in love.
It’s something no man will ever understand, and anyway they just don’t want to. Now, that’s them ready!
All that remains is to put them in my purse, shut my eyes, and that’s it – what will be, will be.
(She places papers in her purse and give it a shake.) This is dreadful… oh God, please make it Anuchkin! No, why him?
Better Mr Podkolyosin. But why Mr Podkolyosin? In what way are the others worse? No, no, I won’t… whichever comes out, so be it.
(She rummages in her purse and pulls them all out instead of one.) Oh! All of them! They’ve all come out! And my heart’s pounding. No, no, it’s got to be one!
(She puts the papers back in her purse.) Oh, if only I could draw out Baltazar… no, what am I saying? I mean Mr Anuchkin…no, I won’t, I won’t. Let fate decide.
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