in it.
Myshevsky. Now listen to me carefully, because I’m not going to say it twice. Now you will go to your father and require from him to issue a power of attorney for the right to sell your apartment. The power of attorney will be issued for you. We do have a notary here. There is that rat with a glass in her hands. So the deal will be settled in half an hour.
Rodion. And if the father jumps off the topic?
Myshevsky. Then you will threaten him.
Rodion. Me? Threaten my father?! How? With a metal baton?
Myshevsky. Say, that you will claim him crazy. There is also a psychiatrist here. That rat over there in the corner. Within the same half an hour, he will make the necessary diagnosis and call the orderlies. The father will be taken to a psychiatric clinic and declared incompetent. And then you will come into inheritance rights.
Rodion. And then what?
Myshevsky. You will sell me the apartment right away.
Rodion. Can I have some time to think over?
Myshevsky. But not too long. Otherwise my rats will get hungry. Each minute they are getting angrier and more merciless, so as I am.
Rodion. Ok, I agree.
Myshevsky. I didn't have doubts in it. Yet at our first meeting, you seemed to me a sensible person, Rodion. That's why I bet on you.
Rodion. So, can I go now?
Myshevsky. Of course. And please, call Olga Alekseevna to me. She doesn't need to witness your conversation with the father.
Rodion. Yes, I understand.
Myshevsky. I doubt it. But it doesn't matter.
Rodion leaves.
Ogranovich. What matters then?
Myshevsky. Did you ask me something?
Ogranovich. You may not answer, if you don’t want.
Myshevsky. Why not? I guess, you need to know this. Just in case if you decide to betray me one day.
Ogranovich. What a nonsense!
Myshevsky. Be silent when I’m speaking! It’s the second time you have broken this golden rule today.
Vykhuholev. Please, forgive her, Andrey Sigizmundovich. The lady is just a little drunk. Is that right, Elena Pavlovna?
Ogranovich. Holy truth! The professor's vodka is a real rubbish. Uff!
Myshevsky. Okay, I forgive you. But the third time will be the last one… So, dear Elena Pavlovna, the important thing is that I never bet on one horse.
Ogranovich. When you mean the professor's son, you are talking about a horse, but when you mean us, you are calling us rats… Is there justice in this world, I ask you?
Myshevsky. And how would you like to be called, Elena Pavlovna?
Ogranovich. If you use the same horse terminology, then you may call me Bucephalus – a faithful warhorse of the great Alexander the Great.
Vykhuholev. So, I was right. Here we have a clear megalomania.
Ogranovich. Every third person in the world suffers from schizophrenia. And psychiatrists are not the exception.
Vykhuholev. Suffers? Why suffer? I, personally, enjoy my schizophrenia. And what about you?
Ogranovich. As for me, I enjoy only vodka. Wouldn't you like to have a glass?
Vykhuholev. No, let me limit to schizophrenia by now. Andrey Sigizmundovich, and what about you?
Myshevsky. What about me?
Vykhuholev. What do you enjoy?
Myshevsky. Why are you asking me about it, Sergey Yurievich? You have always seemed to me an inquisitive person. I do appreciate you for this.
Vykhuholev. In this case my interest is professional, not personal.
Myshevsky. Really?
Vykhuholev. Let me be frank with you…
Myshevsky. Certainly.
Vykhuholev. Without any terrible consequences for my future?
Myshevsky. Your introduction has intrigued me, really. Try not to disappoint me furthermore!
Vykhuholev. Frankly speaking, Andrey Sigizmundovich, as a psychiatrist, I see your behavior … a little bit strange.
Myshevsky. For how long?
Vykhuholev. Since the time you started dealing with this apartment.
Myshevsky. Why?
Vykhuholev. The apartment is so-so, to be honest. That’s not your level, Andrey Sigizmundovich. It neither can be sold profitably, nor it’s suitable for living. Unless you make a renovation, which will cost much more than the apartment itself, considering that this is an architectural monument. But in spite of all this, you were ready to give a lot of money for it. And when the owner refused to sell it, you came up with such an adventure, that comparing to which, the most sophisticated fantasies of my patients fade. So, what for?
Myshevsky. Get to the point, Sergey Yurievich! Why do you beat around the bush like a male spider in front of a female one during mating?
Vykhuholev. Actually, I don't recognize you. I don’t understand you. And this worries me. As a psychiatrist.
Myshevsky. Do you think, Sergey Yuryevich, that it’s me who should be taken to the madhouse, instead of professor with his spiritualist nonsense?
Vykhuholev. I didn't say that.
Myshevsky. But you meant that. You did mean that, didn’t you?
Vykhuholev. I haven't lost my mind yet.
Myshevsky. No, you will tell me! Or I will strangle you!
Myshevsky comes up to Vykhukholev and grabs him by the throat.
Ogranovich. Do it! Come on! I've been dreaming about this for a long time!
Myshevsky. Tell me!
Vykhuholev. Whatever you want! Just let me go!
Myshevsky. Oh, not now! You asked what I enjoy? Here is my answer!
Vykhuholev. You will kill me! Help! Anyone!
Olga enters.
Olga. What's going on here? Andrey Sigizmundovich! Let him go!
Myshevsky. Do you demand that?
Olga. I beg you! Look, his face has already turned blue!
Myshevsky. Well, if so… I can't refuse when a woman asks me. Go in peace, Sergey Yurievich! And sin no more.
Vykhuholev. Thank you… Oh, my neck! You’ve turned it on the side!
Ogranovich. Lucky you, psychiatrist! You wouldn't get away from me just so easily…
Vykhuholev. But what for?!
Ogranovich. Wipe your nose! You cry like a woman! It serves you well. You’ve exhausted me with your dammed psychoanalysis.
Olga. Stop it, please! Don't you see, he is feeling bad!
Ogranovich. But, don’t you think that I was feeling good from his stupid questions? Let this sniffy impotent go and amuse his libido at some other place!
Myshevsky. Don’t worry, Olga Alekseevna. We were just joking.
Olga. Were you joking?
Myshevsky. Well, yes, we were playing a theatrical impromptu. It’ s a parody of Othello. And what did you think?
Olga. It seemed to me…
Myshevsky. Olga Alekseevna, shame on you! Do I pay you for your fantasies?
Olga. No.
Myshevsky. Right.
