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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sea-Gull, by Anton Checkov
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sea-Gull
+
+Author: Anton Checkov
+
+Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1754]
+Last Updated: September 10, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEA-GULL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SEA-GULL
+
+
+by Anton Checkov
+
+
+
+A Play In Four Acts
+
+
+
+
+CHARACTERS
+
+IRINA ABKADINA, an actress
+
+CONSTANTINE TREPLIEFF, her son
+
+PETER SORIN, her brother
+
+NINA ZARIETCHNAYA, a young girl, the daughter of a rich landowner
+
+ILIA SHAMRAEFF, the manager of SORIN’S estate
+
+PAULINA, his wife
+
+MASHA, their daughter
+
+BORIS TRIGORIN, an author
+
+EUGENE DORN, a doctor
+
+SIMON MEDVIEDENKO, a schoolmaster
+
+JACOB, a workman
+
+A COOK
+
+A MAIDSERVANT
+
+
+_The scene is laid on SORIN’S estate. Two years elapse between the third
+and fourth acts_.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEA-GULL
+
+
+
+
+ACT I
+
+_The scene is laid in the park on SORIN’S estate. A broad avenue of
+trees leads away from the audience toward a lake which lies lost in
+the depths of the park. The avenue is obstructed by a rough stage,
+temporarily erected for the performance of amateur theatricals, and
+which screens the lake from view. There is a dense growth of bushes to
+the left and right of the stage. A few chairs and a little table are
+placed in front of the stage. The sun has just set. JACOB and some other
+workmen are heard hammering and coughing on the stage behind the lowered
+curtain_.
+
+MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO come in from the left, returning from a walk.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Why do you always wear mourning?
+
+MASHA. I dress in black to match my life. I am unhappy.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Why should you be unhappy? [Thinking it over] I don’t
+understand it. You are healthy, and though your father is not rich, he
+has a good competency. My life is far harder than yours. I only have
+twenty-three roubles a month to live on, but I don’t wear mourning.
+[They sit down].
+
+MASHA. Happiness does not depend on riches; poor men are often happy.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. In theory, yes, but not in reality. Take my case, for
+instance; my mother, my two sisters, my little brother and I must all
+live somehow on my salary of twenty-three roubles a month. We have to
+eat and drink, I take it. You wouldn’t have us go without tea and sugar,
+would you? Or tobacco? Answer me that, if you can.
+
+MASHA. [Looking in the direction of the stage] The play will soon begin.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, Nina Zarietchnaya is going to act in Treplieff’s play.
+They love one another, and their two souls will unite to-night in the
+effort to interpret the same idea by different means. There is no ground
+on which your soul and mine can meet. I love you. Too restless and sad
+to stay at home, I tramp here every day, six miles and back, to be met
+only by your indifference. I am poor, my family is large, you can have
+no inducement to marry a man who cannot even find sufficient food for
+his own mouth.
+
+MASHA. It is not that. [She takes snuff] I am touched by your affection,
+but I cannot return it, that is all. [She offers him the snuff-box] Will
+you take some?
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. No, thank you. [A pause.]
+
+MASHA. The air is sultry; a storm is brewing for to-night. You do
+nothing but moralise or else talk about money. To you, poverty is the
+greatest misfortune that can befall a man, but I think it is a thousand
+times easier to go begging in rags than to--You wouldn’t understand
+that, though.
+
+SORIN leaning on a cane, and TREPLIEFF come in.
+
+SORIN. For some reason, my boy, country life doesn’t suit me, and I am
+sure I shall never get used to it. Last night I went to bed at ten and
+woke at nine this morning, feeling as if, from oversleep, my brain had
+stuck to my skull. [Laughing] And yet I accidentally dropped off to
+sleep again after dinner, and feel utterly done up at this moment. It is
+like a nightmare.
+
+TREPLIEFF. There is no doubt that you should live in town. [He catches
+sight of MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO] You shall be called when the play
+begins, my friends, but you must not stay here now. Go away, please.
+
+SORIN. Miss Masha, will you kindly ask your father to leave the dog
+unchained? It howled so last night that my sister was unable to sleep.
+
+MASHA. You must speak to my father yourself. Please excuse me; I can’t
+do so. [To MEDVIEDENKO] Come, let us go.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. You will let us know when the play begins?
+
+MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO go out.
+
+SORIN. I foresee that that dog is going to howl all night again. It is
+always this way in the country; I have never been able to live as I like
+here. I come down for a month’s holiday, to rest and all, and am
+plagued so by their nonsense that I long to escape after the first day.
+[Laughing] I have always been glad to get away from this place, but I
+have been retired now, and this was the only place I had to come to.
+Willy-nilly, one must live somewhere.
+
+JACOB. [To TREPLIEFF] We are going to take a swim, Mr. Constantine.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Very well, but you must be back in ten minutes.
+
+JACOB. We will, sir.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Looking at the stage] Just like a real theatre! See,
+there we have the curtain, the foreground, the background, and all. No
+artificial scenery is needed. The eye travels direct to the lake, and
+rests on the horizon. The curtain will be raised as the moon rises at
+half-past eight.
+
+SORIN. Splendid!
+
+TREPLIEFF. Of course the whole effect will be ruined if Nina is late.
+She should be here by now, but her father and stepmother watch her so
+closely that it is like stealing her from a prison to get her away from
+home. [He straightens SORIN’S collar] Your hair and beard are all on
+end. Oughtn’t you to have them trimmed?
+
+SORIN. [Smoothing his beard] They are the tragedy of my existence. Even
+when I was young I always looked as if I were drunk, and all. Women have
+never liked me. [Sitting down] Why is my sister out of temper?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Why? Because she is jealous and bored. [Sitting down beside
+SORIN] She is not acting this evening, but Nina is, and so she has set
+herself against me, and against the performance of the play, and against
+the play itself, which she hates without ever having read it.
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] Does she, really?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, she is furious because Nina is going to have a
+success on this little stage. [Looking at his watch] My mother is a
+psychological curiosity. Without doubt brilliant and talented, capable
+of sobbing over a novel, of reciting all Nekrasoff’s poetry by heart,
+and of nursing the sick like an angel of heaven, you should see what
+happens if any one begins praising Duse to her! She alone must be
+praised and written about, raved over, her marvellous acting in “La Dame
+aux Camelias” extolled to the skies. As she cannot get all that rubbish
+in the country, she grows peevish and cross, and thinks we are all
+against her, and to blame for it all. She is superstitious, too. She
+dreads burning three candles, and fears the thirteenth day of the month.
+Then she is stingy. I know for a fact that she has seventy thousand
+roubles in a bank at Odessa, but she is ready to burst into tears if you
+ask her to lend you a penny.
+
+SORIN. You have taken it into your head that your mother dislikes your
+play, and the thought of it has excited you, and all. Keep calm; your
+mother adores you.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Pulling a flower to pieces] She loves me, loves me not;
+loves--loves me not; loves--loves me not! [Laughing] You see, she
+doesn’t love me, and why should she? She likes life and love and gay
+clothes, and I am already twenty-five years old; a sufficient reminder
+to her that she is no longer young. When I am away she is only
+thirty-two, in my presence she is forty-three, and she hates me for
+it. She knows, too, that I despise the modern stage. She adores it, and
+imagines that she is working on it for the benefit of humanity and her
+sacred art, but to me the theatre is merely the vehicle of convention
+and prejudice. When the curtain rises on that little three-walled room,
+when those mighty geniuses, those high-priests of art, show us people in
+the act of eating, drinking, loving, walking, and wearing their coats,
+and attempt to extract a moral from their insipid talk; when playwrights
+give us under a thousand different guises the same, same, same old
+stuff, then I must needs run from it, as Maupassant ran from the Eiffel
+Tower that was about to crush him by its vulgarity.
+
+SORIN. But we can’t do without a theatre.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No, but we must have it under a new form. If we can’t do
+that, let us rather not have it at all. [Looking at his watch] I love my
+mother, I love her devotedly, but I think she leads a stupid life. She
+always has this man of letters of hers on her mind, and the newspapers
+are always frightening her to death, and I am tired of it. Plain, human
+egoism sometimes speaks in my heart, and I regret that my mother is
+a famous actress. If she were an ordinary woman I think I should be
+a happier man. What could be more intolerable and foolish than my
+position, Uncle, when I find myself the only nonentity among a crowd of
+her guests, all celebrated authors and artists? I feel that they only
+endure me because I am her son. Personally I am nothing, nobody. I
+pulled through my third year at college by the skin of my teeth, as they
+say. I have neither money nor brains, and on my passport you may read
+that I am simply a citizen of Kiev. So was my father, but he was
+a well-known actor. When the celebrities that frequent my mother’s
+drawing-room deign to notice me at all, I know they only look at me
+to measure my insignificance; I read their thoughts, and suffer from
+humiliation.
+
+SORIN. Tell me, by the way, what is Trigorin like? I can’t understand
+him, he is always so silent.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Trigorin is clever, simple, well-mannered, and a little, I
+might say, melancholic in disposition. Though still under forty, he is
+surfeited with praise. As for his stories, they are--how shall I put
+it?--pleasing, full of talent, but if you have read Tolstoi or Zola you
+somehow don’t enjoy Trigorin.
+
+SORIN. Do you know, my boy, I like literary men. I once passionately
+desired two things: to marry, and to become an author. I have succeeded
+in neither. It must be pleasant to be even an insignificant author.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Listening] I hear footsteps! [He embraces his uncle] I
+cannot live without her; even the sound of her footsteps is music to me.
+I am madly happy. [He goes quickly to meet NINA, who comes in at that
+moment] My enchantress! My girl of dreams!
+
+NINA. [Excitedly] It can’t be that I am late? No, I am not late.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Kissing her hands] No, no, no!
+
+NINA. I have been in a fever all day, I was so afraid my father would
+prevent my coming, but he and my stepmother have just gone driving. The
+sky is clear, the moon is rising. How I hurried to get here! How I urged
+my horse to go faster and faster! [Laughing] I am _so_ glad to see you!
+[She shakes hands with SORIN.]
+
+SORIN. Oho! Your eyes look as if you had been crying. You mustn’t do
+that.
+
+NINA. It is nothing, nothing. Do let us hurry. I must go in half an
+hour. No, no, for heaven’s sake do not urge me to stay. My father
+doesn’t know I am here.
+
+TREPLIEFF. As a matter of fact, it is time to begin now. I must call the
+audience.
+
+SORIN. Let me call them--and all--I am going this minute. [He goes
+toward the right, begins to sing “The Two Grenadiers,” then stops.]
+I was singing that once when a fellow-lawyer said to me: “You have a
+powerful voice, sir.” Then he thought a moment and added, “But it is a
+disagreeable one!” [He goes out laughing.]
+
+NINA. My father and his wife never will let me come here; they call this
+place Bohemia and are afraid I shall become an actress. But this lake
+attracts me as it does the gulls. My heart is full of you. [She glances
+about her.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. We are alone.
+
+NINA. Isn’t that some one over there?
+
+TREPLIEFF. No. [They kiss one another.]
+
+NINA. What is that tree?
+
+TREPLIEFF. An elm.
+
+NINA. Why does it look so dark?
+
+TREPLIEFF. It is evening; everything looks dark now. Don’t go away
+early, I implore you.
+
+NINA. I must.
+
+TREPLIEFF. What if I were to follow you, Nina? I shall stand in your
+garden all night with my eyes on your window.
+
+NINA. That would be impossible; the watchman would see you, and Treasure
+is not used to you yet, and would bark.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I love you.
+
+NINA. Hush!
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Listening to approaching footsteps] Who is that? Is it you,
+Jacob?
+
+JACOB. [On the stage] Yes, sir.
+
+TREPLIEFF. To your places then. The moon is rising; the play must
+commence.
+
+NINA. Yes, sir.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Is the alcohol ready? Is the sulphur ready? There must be
+fumes of sulphur in the air when the red eyes shine out. [To NINA] Go,
+now, everything is ready. Are you nervous?
+
+NINA. Yes, very. I am not so much afraid of your mother as I am of
+Trigorin. I am terrified and ashamed to act before him; he is so famous.
+Is he young?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes.
+
+NINA. What beautiful stories he writes!
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Coldly] I have never read any of them, so I can’t say.
+
+NINA. Your play is very hard to act; there are no living characters in
+it.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Living characters! Life must be represented not as it is, but
+as it ought to be; as it appears in dreams.
+
+NINA. There is so little action; it seems more like a recitation. I
+think love should always come into every play.
+
+NINA and TREPLIEFF go up onto the little stage; PAULINA and DORN come
+in.
+
+PAULINA. It is getting damp. Go back and put on your goloshes.
+
+DORN. I am quite warm.
+
+PAULINA. You never will take care of yourself; you are quite obstinate
+about it, and yet you are a doctor, and know quite well that damp air is
+bad for you. You like to see me suffer, that’s what it is. You sat out
+on the terrace all yesterday evening on purpose.
+
+DORN. [Sings]
+
+“Oh, tell me not that youth is wasted.”
+
+PAULINA. You were so enchanted by the conversation of Madame Arkadina
+that you did not even notice the cold. Confess that you admire her.
+
+DORN. I am fifty-five years old.
+
+PAULINA. A trifle. That is not old for a man. You have kept your looks
+magnificently, and women still like you.
+
+DORN. What are you trying to tell me?
+
+PAULINA. You men are all ready to go down on your knees to an actress,
+all of you.
+
+DORN. [Sings]
+
+“Once more I stand before thee.”
+
+It is only right that artists should be made much of by society and
+treated differently from, let us say, merchants. It is a kind of
+idealism.
+
+PAULINA. When women have loved you and thrown themselves at your head,
+has that been idealism?
+
+DORN. [Shrugging his shoulders] I can’t say. There has been a great deal
+that was admirable in my relations with women. In me they liked, above
+all, the superior doctor. Ten years ago, you remember, I was the only
+decent doctor they had in this part of the country--and then, I have
+always acted like a man of honour.
+
+PAULINA. [Seizes his hand] Dearest!
+
+DORN. Be quiet! Here they come.
+
+ARKADINA comes in on SORIN’S arm; also TRIGORIN, SHAMRAEFF, MEDVIEDENKO,
+and MASHA.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. She acted most beautifully at the Poltava Fair in 1873; she
+was really magnificent. But tell me, too, where Tchadin the comedian is
+now? He was inimitable as Rasplueff, better than Sadofski. Where is he
+now?
+
+ARKADINA. Don’t ask me where all those antediluvians are! I know nothing
+about them. [She sits down.]
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Sighing] Pashka Tchadin! There are none left like him. The
+stage is not what it was in his time. There were sturdy oaks growing on
+it then, where now but stumps remain.
+
+DORN. It is true that we have few dazzling geniuses these days, but, on
+the other hand, the average of acting is much higher.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. I cannot agree with you; however, that is a matter of taste,
+_de gustibus._
+
+Enter TREPLIEFF from behind the stage.
+
+ARKADINA. When will the play begin, my dear boy?
+
+TREPLIEFF. In a moment. I must ask you to have patience.
+
+ARKADINA. [Quoting from Hamlet] My son,
+
+     “Thou turn’st mine eyes into my very soul;
+     And there I see such black grained spots
+     As will not leave their tinct.”
+
+[A horn is blown behind the stage.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Attention, ladies and gentlemen! The play is about to begin.
+[A pause] I shall commence. [He taps the door with a stick, and speaks
+in a loud voice] O, ye time-honoured, ancient mists that drive at night
+across the surface of this lake, blind you our eyes with sleep, and show
+us in our dreams that which will be in twice ten thousand years!
+
+SORIN. There won’t be anything in twice ten thousand years.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Then let them now show us that nothingness.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, let them--we are asleep.
+
+The curtain rises. A vista opens across the lake. The moon hangs low
+above the horizon and is reflected in the water. NINA, dressed in white,
+is seen seated on a great rock.
+
+NINA. All men and beasts, lions, eagles, and quails, horned stags,
+geese, spiders, silent fish that inhabit the waves, starfish from the
+sea, and creatures invisible to the eye--in one word, life--all, all
+life, completing the dreary round imposed upon it, has died out at last.
+A thousand years have passed since the earth last bore a living creature
+on her breast, and the unhappy moon now lights her lamp in vain. No
+longer are the cries of storks heard in the meadows, or the drone of
+beetles in the groves of limes. All is cold, cold. All is void, void,
+void. All is terrible, terrible--[A pause] The bodies of all living
+creatures have dropped to dust, and eternal matter has transformed them
+into stones and water and clouds; but their spirits have flowed together
+into one, and that great world-soul am I! In me is the spirit of the
+great Alexander, the spirit of Napoleon, of Caesar, of Shakespeare,
+and of the tiniest leech that swims. In me the consciousness of man has
+joined hands with the instinct of the animal; I understand all, all,
+all, and each life lives again in me.
+
+[The will-o-the-wisps flicker out along the lake shore.]
+
+ARKADINA. [Whispers] What decadent rubbish is this?
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Imploringly] Mother!
+
+NINA. I am alone. Once in a hundred years my lips are opened, my voice
+echoes mournfully across the desert earth, and no one hears. And you,
+poor lights of the marsh, you do not hear me. You are engendered at
+sunset in the putrid mud, and flit wavering about the lake till dawn,
+unconscious, unreasoning, unwarmed by the breath of life. Satan, father
+of eternal matter, trembling lest the spark of life should glow in you,
+has ordered an unceasing movement of the atoms that compose you, and so
+you shift and change for ever. I, the spirit of the universe, I alone
+am immutable and eternal. [A pause] Like a captive in a dungeon deep and
+void, I know not where I am, nor what awaits me. One thing only is not
+hidden from me: in my fierce and obstinate battle with Satan, the source
+of the forces of matter, I am destined to be victorious in the end.
+Matter and spirit will then be one at last in glorious harmony, and the
+reign of freedom will begin on earth. But this can only come to pass by
+slow degrees, when after countless eons the moon and earth and shining
+Sirius himself shall fall to dust. Until that hour, oh, horror! horror!
+horror! [A pause. Two glowing red points are seen shining across the
+lake] Satan, my mighty foe, advances; I see his dread and lurid eyes.
+
+ARKADINA. I smell sulphur. Is that done on purpose?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes.
+
+ARKADINA. Oh, I see; that is part of the effect.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Mother!
+
+NINA. He longs for man--
+
+PAULINA. [To DORN] You have taken off your hat again! Put it on, you
+will catch cold.
+
+ARKADINA. The doctor has taken off his hat to Satan father of eternal
+matter--
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Loudly and angrily] Enough of this! There’s an end to the
+performance. Down with the curtain!
+
+ARKADINA. Why, what are you so angry about?
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Stamping his foot] The curtain; down with it! [The curtain
+falls] Excuse me, I forgot that only a chosen few might write plays or
+act them. I have infringed the monopoly. I--I---
+
+He would like to say more, but waves his hand instead, and goes out to
+the left.
+
+ARKADINA. What is the matter with him?
+
+SORIN. You should not handle youthful egoism so roughly, sister.
+
+ARKADINA. What did I say to him?
+
+SORIN. You hurt his feelings.
+
+ARKADINA. But he told me himself that this was all in fun, so I treated
+his play as if it were a comedy.
+
+SORIN. Nevertheless---
+
+ARKADINA. Now it appears that he has produced a masterpiece, if you
+please! I suppose it was not meant to amuse us at all, but that he
+arranged the performance and fumigated us with sulphur to demonstrate to
+us how plays should be written, and what is worth acting. I am tired
+of him. No one could stand his constant thrusts and sallies. He is a
+wilful, egotistic boy.
+
+SORIN. He had hoped to give you pleasure.
+
+ARKADINA. Is that so? I notice, though, that he did not choose an
+ordinary play, but forced his decadent trash on us. I am willing to
+listen to any raving, so long as it is not meant seriously, but in
+showing us this, he pretended to be introducing us to a new form of art,
+and inaugurating a new era. In my opinion, there was nothing new about
+it, it was simply an exhibition of bad temper.
+
+TRIGORIN. Everybody must write as he feels, and as best he may.
+
+ARKADINA. Let him write as he feels and can, but let him spare me his
+nonsense.
+
+DORN. Thou art angry, O Jove!
+
+ARKADINA. I am a woman, not Jove. [She lights a cigarette] And I am not
+angry, I am only sorry to see a young man foolishly wasting his time. I
+did not mean to hurt him.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. No one has any ground for separating life from matter, as
+the spirit may well consist of the union of material atoms. [Excitedly,
+to TRIGORIN] Some day you should write a play, and put on the stage the
+life of a schoolmaster. It is a hard, hard life.
+
+ARKADINA. I agree with you, but do not let us talk about plays or atoms
+now. This is such a lovely evening. Listen to the singing, friends, how
+sweet it sounds.
+
+PAULINA. Yes, they are singing across the water. [A pause.]
+
+ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] Sit down beside me here. Ten or fifteen years
+ago we had music and singing on this lake almost all night. There are
+six houses on its shores. All was noise and laughter and romance then,
+such romance! The young star and idol of them all in those days was this
+man here, [Nods toward DORN] Doctor Eugene Dorn. He is fascinating now,
+but he was irresistible then. But my conscience is beginning to
+prick me. Why did I hurt my poor boy? I am uneasy about him. [Loudly]
+Constantine! Constantine!
+
+MASHA. Shall I go and find him?
+
+ARKADINA. If you please, my dear.
+
+MASHA. [Goes off to the left, calling] Mr. Constantine! Oh, Mr.
+Constantine!
+
+NINA. [Comes in from behind the stage] I see that the play will never be
+finished, so now I can go home. Good evening. [She kisses ARKADINA and
+PAULINA.]
+
+SORIN. Bravo! Bravo!
+
+ARKADINA. Bravo! Bravo! We were quite charmed by your acting. With your
+looks and such a lovely voice it is a crime for you to hide yourself
+in the country. You must be very talented. It is your duty to go on the
+stage, do you hear me?
+
+NINA. It is the dream of my life, which will never come true.
+
+ARKADINA. Who knows? Perhaps it will. But let me present Monsieur Boris
+Trigorin.
+
+NINA. I am delighted to meet you. [Embarrassed] I have read all your
+books.
+
+ARKADINA. [Drawing NINA down beside her] Don’t be afraid of him, dear.
+He is a simple, good-natured soul, even if he is a celebrity. See, he is
+embarrassed himself.
+
+DORN. Couldn’t the curtain be raised now? It is depressing to have it
+down.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Loudly] Jacob, my man! Raise the curtain!
+
+NINA. [To TRIGORIN] It was a curious play, wasn’t it?
+
+TRIGORIN. Very. I couldn’t understand it at all, but I watched it with
+the greatest pleasure because you acted with such sincerity, and the
+setting was beautiful. [A pause] There must be a lot of fish in this
+lake.
+
+NINA. Yes, there are.
+
+TRIGORIN. I love fishing. I know of nothing pleasanter than to sit on a
+lake shore in the evening with one’s eyes on a floating cork.
+
+NINA. Why, I should think that for one who has tasted the joys of
+creation, no other pleasure could exist.
+
+ARKADINA. Don’t talk like that. He always begins to flounder when people
+say nice things to him.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. I remember when the famous Silva was singing once in the
+Opera House at Moscow, how delighted we all were when he took the low C.
+Well, you can imagine our astonishment when one of the church cantors,
+who happened to be sitting in the gallery, suddenly boomed out: “Bravo,
+Silva!” a whole octave lower. Like this: [In a deep bass voice] “Bravo,
+Silva!” The audience was left breathless. [A pause.]
+
+DORN. An angel of silence is flying over our heads.
+
+NINA. I must go. Good-bye.
+
+ARKADINA. Where to? Where must you go so early? We shan’t allow it.
+
+NINA. My father is waiting for me.
+
+ARKADINA. How cruel he is, really. [They kiss each other] Then I suppose
+we can’t keep you, but it is very hard indeed to let you go.
+
+NINA. If you only knew how hard it is for me to leave you all.
+
+ARKADINA. Somebody must see you home, my pet.
+
+NINA. [Startled] No, no!
+
+SORIN. [Imploringly] Don’t go!
+
+NINA. I must.
+
+SORIN. Stay just one hour more, and all. Come now, really, you know.
+
+NINA. [Struggling against her desire to stay; through her tears] No, no,
+I can’t. [She shakes hands with him and quickly goes out.]
+
+ARKADINA. An unlucky girl! They say that her mother left the whole of an
+immense fortune to her husband, and now the child is penniless because
+the father has already willed everything away to his second wife. It is
+pitiful.
+
+DORN. Yes, her papa is a perfect beast, and I don’t mind saying so--it
+is what he deserves.
+
+SORIN. [Rubbing his chilled hands] Come, let us go in; the night is
+damp, and my legs are aching.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, you act as if they were turned to stone; you can hardly
+move them. Come, you unfortunate old man. [She takes his arm.]
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Offering his arm to his wife] Permit me, madame.
+
+SORIN. I hear that dog howling again. Won’t you please have it
+unchained, Shamraeff?
+
+SHAMRAEFF. No, I really can’t, sir. The granary is full of millet, and
+I am afraid thieves might break in if the dog were not there. [Walking
+beside MEDVIEDENKO] Yes, a whole octave lower: “Bravo, Silva!” and he
+wasn’t a singer either, just a simple church cantor.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. What salary does the church pay its singers? [All go out
+except DORN.]
+
+DORN. I may have lost my judgment and my wits, but I must confess I
+liked that play. There was something in it. When the girl spoke of her
+solitude and the Devil’s eyes gleamed across the lake, I felt my hands
+shaking with excitement. It was so fresh and naive. But here he comes;
+let me say something pleasant to him.
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in.
+
+TREPLIEFF. All gone already?
+
+DORN. I am here.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Masha has been yelling for me all over the park. An
+insufferable creature.
+
+DORN. Constantine, your play delighted me. It was strange, of course,
+and I did not hear the end, but it made a deep impression on me. You
+have a great deal of talent, and must persevere in your work.
+
+TREPLIEFF seizes his hand and squeezes it hard, then kisses him
+impetuously.
+
+DORN. Tut, tut! how excited you are. Your eyes are full of tears. Listen
+to me. You chose your subject in the realm of abstract thought, and you
+did quite right. A work of art should invariably embody some lofty idea.
+Only that which is seriously meant can ever be beautiful. How pale you
+are!
+
+TREPLIEFF. So you advise me to persevere?
+
+DORN. Yes, but use your talent to express only deep and eternal truths.
+I have led a quiet life, as you know, and am a contented man, but if I
+should ever experience the exaltation that an artist feels during his
+moments of creation, I think I should spurn this material envelope of my
+soul and everything connected with it, and should soar away into heights
+above this earth.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I beg your pardon, but where is Nina?
+
+DORN. And yet another thing: every work of art should have a definite
+object in view. You should know why you are writing, for if you follow
+the road of art without a goal before your eyes, you will lose yourself,
+and your genius will be your ruin.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Impetuously] Where is Nina?
+
+DORN. She has gone home.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [In despair] Gone home? What shall I do? I want to see her; I
+must see her! I shall follow her.
+
+DORN. My dear boy, keep quiet.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I am going. I must go.
+
+MASHA comes in.
+
+MASHA. Your mother wants you to come in, Mr. Constantine. She is waiting
+for you, and is very uneasy.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Tell her I have gone away. And for heaven’s sake, all of you,
+leave me alone! Go away! Don’t follow me about!
+
+DORN. Come, come, old chap, don’t act like this; it isn’t kind at all.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Through his tears] Good-bye, doctor, and thank you.
+
+TREPLIEFF goes out.
+
+DORN. [Sighing] Ah, youth, youth!
+
+MASHA. It is always “Youth, youth,” when there is nothing else to be
+said.
+
+She takes snuff. DORN takes the snuff-box out of her hands and flings it
+into the bushes.
+
+DORN. Don’t do that, it is horrid. [A pause] I hear music in the house.
+I must go in.
+
+MASHA. Wait a moment.
+
+DORN. What do you want?
+
+MASHA. Let me tell you again. I feel like talking. [She grows more and
+more excited] I do not love my father, but my heart turns to you. For
+some reason, I feel with all my soul that you are near to me. Help me!
+Help me, or I shall do something foolish and mock at my life, and ruin
+it. I am at the end of my strength.
+
+DORN. What is the matter? How can I help you?
+
+MASHA. I am in agony. No one, no one can imagine how I suffer. [She lays
+her head on his shoulder and speaks softly] I love Constantine.
+
+DORN. Oh, how excitable you all are! And how much love there is about
+this lake of spells! [Tenderly] But what can I do for you, my child?
+What? What?
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II
+
+_The lawn in front of SORIN’S house. The house stands in the background,
+on a broad terrace. The lake, brightly reflecting the rays of the sun,
+lies to the left. There are flower-beds here and there. It is noon;
+the day is hot. ARKADINA, DORN, and MASHA are sitting on a bench on the
+lawn, in the shade of an old linden. An open book is lying on DORN’S
+knees_.
+
+ARKADINA. [To MASHA] Come, get up. [They both get up] Stand beside me.
+You are twenty-two and I am almost twice your age. Tell me, Doctor,
+which of us is the younger looking?
+
+DORN. You are, of course.
+
+ARKADINA. You see! Now why is it? Because I work; my heart and mind are
+always busy, whereas you never move off the same spot. You don’t live.
+It is a maxim of mine never to look into the future. I never admit the
+thought of old age or death, and just accept what comes to me.
+
+MASHA. I feel as if I had been in the world a thousand years, and I
+trail my life behind me like an endless scarf. Often I have no desire
+to live at all. Of course that is foolish. One ought to pull oneself
+together and shake off such nonsense.
+
+DORN. [Sings softly]
+
+“Tell her, oh flowers--”
+
+ARKADINA. And then I keep myself as correct-looking as an Englishman. I
+am always well-groomed, as the saying is, and carefully dressed, with my
+hair neatly arranged. Do you think I should ever permit myself to leave
+the house half-dressed, with untidy hair? Certainly not! I have kept my
+looks by never letting myself slump as some women do. [She puts her arms
+akimbo, and walks up and down on the lawn] See me, tripping on tiptoe
+like a fifteen-year-old girl.
+
+DORN. I see. Nevertheless, I shall continue my reading. [He takes up his
+book] Let me see, we had come to the grain-dealer and the rats.
+
+ARKADINA. And the rats. Go on. [She sits down] No, give me the book, it
+is my turn to read. [She takes the book and looks for the place] And
+the rats. Ah, here it is. [She reads] “It is as dangerous for society to
+attract and indulge authors as it is for grain-dealers to raise rats
+in their granaries. Yet society loves authors. And so, when a woman
+has found one whom she wishes to make her own, she lays siege to him
+by indulging and flattering him.” That may be so in France, but it
+certainly is not so in Russia. We do not carry out a programme like
+that. With us, a woman is usually head over ears in love with an author
+before she attempts to lay siege to him. You have an example before your
+eyes, in me and Trigorin.
+
+SORIN comes in leaning on a cane, with NINA beside him. MEDVIEDENKO
+follows, pushing an arm-chair.
+
+SORIN. [In a caressing voice, as if speaking to a child] So we are happy
+now, eh? We are enjoying ourselves to-day, are we? Father and stepmother
+have gone away to Tver, and we are free for three whole days!
+
+NINA. [Sits down beside ARKADINA, and embraces her] I am so happy. I
+belong to you now.
+
+SORIN. [Sits down in his arm-chair] She looks lovely to-day.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, she has put on her prettiest dress, and looks sweet. That
+was nice of you. [She kisses NINA] But we mustn’t praise her too much;
+we shall spoil her. Where is Trigorin?
+
+NINA. He is fishing off the wharf.
+
+ARKADINA. I wonder he isn’t bored. [She begins to read again.]
+
+NINA. What are you reading?
+
+ARKADINA. “On the Water,” by Maupassant. [She reads a few lines to
+herself] But the rest is neither true nor interesting. [She lays down
+the book] I am uneasy about my son. Tell me, what is the matter with
+him? Why is he so dull and depressed lately? He spends all his days on
+the lake, and I scarcely ever see him any more.
+
+MASHA. His heart is heavy. [Timidly, to NINA] Please recite something
+from his play.
+
+NINA. [Shrugging her shoulders] Shall I? Is it so interesting?
+
+MASHA. [With suppressed rapture] When he recites, his eyes shine and his
+face grows pale. His voice is beautiful and sad, and he has the ways of
+a poet.
+
+SORIN begins to snore.
+
+DORN. Pleasant dreams!
+
+ARKADINA. Peter!
+
+SORIN. Eh?
+
+ARKADINA. Are you asleep?
+
+SORIN. Not a bit of it. [A pause.]
+
+ARKADINA. You don’t do a thing for your health, brother, but you really
+ought to.
+
+DORN. The idea of doing anything for one’s health at sixty-five!
+
+SORIN. One still wants to live at sixty-five.
+
+DORN. [Crossly] Ho! Take some camomile tea.
+
+ARKADINA. I think a journey to some watering-place would be good for
+him.
+
+DORN. Why, yes; he might go as well as not.
+
+ARKADINA. You don’t understand.
+
+DORN. There is nothing to understand in this case; it is quite clear.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. He ought to give up smoking.
+
+SORIN. What nonsense! [A pause.]
+
+DORN. No, that is not nonsense. Wine and tobacco destroy the
+individuality. After a cigar or a glass of vodka you are no longer Peter
+Sorin, but Peter Sorin plus somebody else. Your ego breaks in two: you
+begin to think of yourself in the third person.
+
+SORIN. It is easy for you to condemn smoking and drinking; you have
+known what life is, but what about me? I have served in the Department
+of Justice for twenty-eight years, but I have never lived, I have never
+had any experiences. You are satiated with life, and that is why you
+have an inclination for philosophy, but I want to live, and that is why
+I drink my wine for dinner and smoke cigars, and all.
+
+DORN. One must take life seriously, and to take a cure at sixty-five
+and regret that one did not have more pleasure in youth is, forgive my
+saying so, trifling.
+
+MASHA. It must be lunch-time. [She walks away languidly, with a dragging
+step] My foot has gone to sleep.
+
+DORN. She is going to have a couple of drinks before lunch.
+
+SORIN. The poor soul is unhappy.
+
+DORN. That is a trifle, your honour.
+
+SORIN. You judge her like a man who has obtained all he wants in life.
+
+ARKADINA. Oh, what could be duller than this dear tedium of the country?
+The air is hot and still, nobody does anything but sit and philosophise
+about life. It is pleasant, my friends, to sit and listen to you here,
+but I had rather a thousand times sit alone in the room of a hotel
+learning a role by heart.
+
+NINA. [With enthusiasm] You are quite right. I understand how you feel.
+
+SORIN. Of course it is pleasanter to live in town. One can sit in one’s
+library with a telephone at one’s elbow, no one comes in without being
+first announced by the footman, the streets are full of cabs, and all---
+
+DORN. [Sings]
+
+“Tell her, oh flowers---”
+
+SHAMRAEFF comes in, followed by PAULINA.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Here they are. How do you do? [He kisses ARKADINA’S hand and
+then NINA’S] I am delighted to see you looking so well. [To ARKADINA] My
+wife tells me that you mean to go to town with her to-day. Is that so?
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, that is what I had planned to do.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Hm--that is splendid, but how do you intend to get there,
+madam? We are hauling rye to-day, and all the men are busy. What horses
+would you take?
+
+ARKADINA. What horses? How do I know what horses we shall have?
+
+SORIN. Why, we have the carriage horses.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. The carriage horses! And where am I to find the harness for
+them? This is astonishing! My dear madam, I have the greatest respect
+for your talents, and would gladly sacrifice ten years of my life for
+you, but I cannot let you have any horses to-day.
+
+ARKADINA. But if I must go to town? What an extraordinary state of
+affairs!
+
+SHAMRAEFF. You do not know, madam, what it is to run a farm.
+
+ARKADINA. [In a burst of anger] That is an old story! Under these
+circumstances I shall go back to Moscow this very day. Order a carriage
+for me from the village, or I shall go to the station on foot.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [losing his temper] Under these circumstances I resign my
+position. You must find yourself another manager. [He goes out.]
+
+ARKADINA. It is like this every summer: every summer I am insulted here.
+I shall never set foot here again.
+
+She goes out to the left, in the direction of the wharf. In a few
+minutes she is seen entering the house, followed by TRIGORIN, who
+carries a bucket and fishing-rod.
+
+SORIN. [Losing his temper] What the deuce did he mean by his impudence?
+I want all the horses brought here at once!
+
+NINA. [To PAULINA] How could he refuse anything to Madame Arkadina, the
+famous actress? Is not every wish, every caprice even, of hers, more
+important than any farm work? This is incredible.
+
+PAULINA. [In despair] What can I do about it? Put yourself in my place
+and tell me what I can do.
+
+SORIN. [To NINA] Let us go and find my sister, and all beg her not to
+go. [He looks in the direction in which SHAMRAEFF went out] That man is
+insufferable; a regular tyrant.
+
+NINA. [Preventing him from getting up] Sit still, sit still, and let
+us wheel you. [She and MEDVIEDENKO push the chair before them] This is
+terrible!
+
+SORIN. Yes, yes, it is terrible; but he won’t leave. I shall have a talk
+with him in a moment. [They go out. Only DORN and PAULINA are left.]
+
+DORN. How tiresome people are! Your husband deserves to be thrown out of
+here neck and crop, but it will all end by this old granny Sorin and his
+sister asking the man’s pardon. See if it doesn’t.
+
+PAULINA. He has sent the carriage horses into the fields too. These
+misunderstandings occur every day. If you only knew how they excite me!
+I am ill; see! I am trembling all over! I cannot endure his rough ways.
+[Imploringly] Eugene, my darling, my beloved, take me to you. Our time
+is short; we are no longer young; let us end deception and concealment,
+even though it is only at the end of our lives. [A pause.]
+
+DORN. I am fifty-five years old. It is too late now for me to change my
+ways of living.
+
+PAULINA. I know that you refuse me because there are other women who are
+near to you, and you cannot take everybody. I understand. Excuse me--I
+see I am only bothering you.
+
+NINA is seen near the house picking a bunch of flowers.
+
+DORN. No, it is all right.
+
+PAULINA. I am tortured by jealousy. Of course you are a doctor and
+cannot escape from women. I understand.
+
+DORN. [TO NINA, who comes toward him] How are things in there?
+
+NINA. Madame Arkadina is crying, and Sorin is having an attack of
+asthma.
+
+DORN. Let us go and give them both some camomile tea.
+
+NINA. [Hands him the bunch of flowers] Here are some flowers for you.
+
+DORN. Thank you. [He goes into the house.]
+
+PAULINA. [Following him] What pretty flowers! [As they reach the house
+she says in a low voice] Give me those flowers! Give them to me!
+
+DORN hands her the flowers; she tears them to pieces and flings them
+away. They both go into the house.
+
+NINA. [Alone] How strange to see a famous actress weeping, and for
+such a trifle! Is it not strange, too, that a famous author should sit
+fishing all day? He is the idol of the public, the papers are full
+of him, his photograph is for sale everywhere, his works have been
+translated into many foreign languages, and yet he is overjoyed if he
+catches a couple of minnows. I always thought famous people were distant
+and proud; I thought they despised the common crowd which exalts
+riches and birth, and avenged themselves on it by dazzling it with the
+inextinguishable honour and glory of their fame. But here I see them
+weeping and playing cards and flying into passions like everybody else.
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in without a hat on, carrying a gun and a dead seagull.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Are you alone here?
+
+NINA. Yes.
+
+TREPLIEFF lays the sea-gull at her feet.
+
+NINA. What do you mean by this?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I was base enough to-day to kill this gull. I lay it at your
+feet.
+
+NINA. What is happening to you? [She picks up the gull and stands
+looking at it.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. [After a pause] So shall I soon end my own life.
+
+NINA. You have changed so that I fail to recognise you.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, I have changed since the time when I ceased to recognise
+you. You have failed me; your look is cold; you do not like to have me
+near you.
+
+NINA. You have grown so irritable lately, and you talk so darkly and
+symbolically that you must forgive me if I fail to follow you. I am too
+simple to understand you.
+
+TREPLIEFF. All this began when my play failed so dismally. A woman never
+can forgive failure. I have burnt the manuscript to the last page. Oh,
+if you could only fathom my unhappiness! Your estrangement is to me
+terrible, incredible; it is as if I had suddenly waked to find this
+lake dried up and sunk into the earth. You say you are too simple to
+understand me; but, oh, what is there to understand? You disliked
+my play, you have no faith in my powers, you already think of me as
+commonplace and worthless, as many are. [Stamping his foot] How well
+I can understand your feelings! And that understanding is to me like
+a dagger in the brain. May it be accursed, together with my stupidity,
+which sucks my life-blood like a snake! [He sees TRIGORIN, who
+approaches reading a book] There comes real genius, striding along like
+another Hamlet, and with a book, too. [Mockingly] “Words, words, words.”
+ You feel the warmth of that sun already, you smile, your eyes melt and
+glow liquid in its rays. I shall not disturb you. [He goes out.]
+
+TRIGORIN. [Making notes in his book] Takes snuff and drinks vodka;
+always wears black dresses; is loved by a schoolteacher--
+
+NINA. How do you do?
+
+TRIGORIN. How are you, Miss Nina? Owing to an unforeseen development of
+circumstances, it seems that we are leaving here today. You and I shall
+probably never see each other again, and I am sorry for it. I seldom
+meet a young and pretty girl now; I can hardly remember how it feels
+to be nineteen, and the young girls in my books are seldom living
+characters. I should like to change places with you, if but for an hour,
+to look out at the world through your eyes, and so find out what sort of
+a little person you are.
+
+NINA. And I should like to change places with you.
+
+TRIGORIN. Why?
+
+NINA. To find out how a famous genius feels. What is it like to be
+famous? What sensations does it give you?
+
+TRIGORIN. What sensations? I don’t believe it gives any. [Thoughtfully]
+Either you exaggerate my fame, or else, if it exists, all I can say is
+that one simply doesn’t feel fame in any way.
+
+NINA. But when you read about yourself in the papers?
+
+TRIGORIN. If the critics praise me, I am happy; if they condemn me, I am
+out of sorts for the next two days.
+
+NINA. This is a wonderful world. If you only knew how I envy you! Men
+are born to different destinies. Some dully drag a weary, useless life
+behind them, lost in the crowd, unhappy, while to one out of a million,
+as to you, for instance, comes a bright destiny full of interest and
+meaning. You are lucky.
+
+TRIGORIN. I, lucky? [He shrugs his shoulders] H-m--I hear you talking
+about fame, and happiness, and bright destinies, and those fine words of
+yours mean as much to me--forgive my saying so--as sweetmeats do, which
+I never eat. You are very young, and very kind.
+
+NINA. Your life is beautiful.
+
+TRIGORIN. I see nothing especially lovely about it. [He looks at his
+watch] Excuse me, I must go at once, and begin writing again. I am in a
+hurry. [He laughs] You have stepped on my pet corn, as they say, and I
+am getting excited, and a little cross. Let us discuss this bright and
+beautiful life of mine, though. [After a few moments’ thought] Violent
+obsessions sometimes lay hold of a man: he may, for instance, think day
+and night of nothing but the moon. I have such a moon. Day and night I
+am held in the grip of one besetting thought, to write, write, write!
+Hardly have I finished one book than something urges me to write
+another, and then a third, and then a fourth--I write ceaselessly. I am,
+as it were, on a treadmill. I hurry for ever from one story to another,
+and can’t help myself. Do you see anything bright and beautiful in that?
+Oh, it is a wild life! Even now, thrilled as I am by talking to you, I
+do not forget for an instant that an unfinished story is awaiting me. My
+eye falls on that cloud there, which has the shape of a grand piano; I
+instantly make a mental note that I must remember to mention in my story
+a cloud floating by that looked like a grand piano. I smell heliotrope;
+I mutter to myself: a sickly smell, the colour worn by widows; I must
+remember that in writing my next description of a summer evening. I
+catch an idea in every sentence of yours or of my own, and hasten to
+lock all these treasures in my literary store-room, thinking that some
+day they may be useful to me. As soon as I stop working I rush off to
+the theatre or go fishing, in the hope that I may find oblivion there,
+but no! Some new subject for a story is sure to come rolling through my
+brain like an iron cannonball. I hear my desk calling, and have to go
+back to it and begin to write, write, write, once more. And so it
+goes for everlasting. I cannot escape myself, though I feel that I am
+consuming my life. To prepare the honey I feed to unknown crowds, I am
+doomed to brush the bloom from my dearest flowers, to tear them from
+their stems, and trample the roots that bore them under foot. Am I not
+a madman? Should I not be treated by those who know me as one mentally
+diseased? Yet it is always the same, same old story, till I begin to
+think that all this praise and admiration must be a deception, that I am
+being hoodwinked because they know I am crazy, and I sometimes tremble
+lest I should be grabbed from behind and whisked off to a lunatic
+asylum. The best years of my youth were made one continual agony for me
+by my writing. A young author, especially if at first he does not make
+a success, feels clumsy, ill-at-ease, and superfluous in the world. His
+nerves are all on edge and stretched to the point of breaking; he is
+irresistibly attracted to literary and artistic people, and hovers about
+them unknown and unnoticed, fearing to look them bravely in the eye,
+like a man with a passion for gambling, whose money is all gone. I
+did not know my readers, but for some reason I imagined they were
+distrustful and unfriendly; I was mortally afraid of the public, and
+when my first play appeared, it seemed to me as if all the dark eyes in
+the audience were looking at it with enmity, and all the blue ones with
+cold indifference. Oh, how terrible it was! What agony!
+
+NINA. But don’t your inspiration and the act of creation give you
+moments of lofty happiness?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes. Writing is a pleasure to me, and so is reading the
+proofs, but no sooner does a book leave the press than it becomes odious
+to me; it is not what I meant it to be; I made a mistake to write it at
+all; I am provoked and discouraged. Then the public reads it and says:
+“Yes, it is clever and pretty, but not nearly as good as Tolstoi,” or
+“It is a lovely thing, but not as good as Turgenieff’s ‘Fathers and
+Sons,’” and so it will always be. To my dying day I shall hear people
+say: “Clever and pretty; clever and pretty,” and nothing more; and when
+I am gone, those that knew me will say as they pass my grave: “Here lies
+Trigorin, a clever writer, but he was not as good as Turgenieff.”
+
+NINA. You must excuse me, but I decline to understand what you are
+talking about. The fact is, you have been spoilt by your success.
+
+TRIGORIN. What success have I had? I have never pleased myself; as
+a writer, I do not like myself at all. The trouble is that I am made
+giddy, as it were, by the fumes of my brain, and often hardly know what
+I am writing. I love this lake, these trees, the blue heaven; nature’s
+voice speaks to me and wakes a feeling of passion in my heart, and I
+am overcome by an uncontrollable desire to write. But I am not only
+a painter of landscapes, I am a man of the city besides. I love my
+country, too, and her people; I feel that, as a writer, it is my duty to
+speak of their sorrows, of their future, also of science, of the rights
+of man, and so forth. So I write on every subject, and the public hounds
+me on all sides, sometimes in anger, and I race and dodge like a fox
+with a pack of hounds on his trail. I see life and knowledge flitting
+away before me. I am left behind them like a peasant who has missed his
+train at a station, and finally I come back to the conclusion that all
+I am fit for is to describe landscapes, and that whatever else I attempt
+rings abominably false.
+
+NINA. You work too hard to realise the importance of your writings. What
+if you are discontented with yourself? To others you appear a great and
+splendid man. If I were a writer like you I should devote my whole life
+to the service of the Russian people, knowing at the same time that
+their welfare depended on their power to rise to the heights I had
+attained, and the people should send me before them in a chariot of
+triumph.
+
+TRIGORIN. In a chariot? Do you think I am Agamemnon? [They both smile.]
+
+NINA. For the bliss of being a writer or an actress I could endure want,
+and disillusionment, and the hatred of my friends, and the pangs of my
+own dissatisfaction with myself; but I should demand in return fame,
+real, resounding fame! [She covers her face with her hands] Whew! My
+head reels!
+
+THE VOICE OF ARKADINA. [From inside the house] Boris! Boris!
+
+TRIGORIN. She is calling me, probably to come and pack, but I don’t want
+to leave this place. [His eyes rest on the lake] What a blessing such
+beauty is!
+
+NINA. Do you see that house there, on the far shore?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes.
+
+NINA. That was my dead mother’s home. I was born there, and have lived
+all my life beside this lake. I know every little island in it.
+
+TRIGORIN. This is a beautiful place to live. [He catches sight of the
+dead sea-gull] What is that?
+
+NINA. A gull. Constantine shot it.
+
+TRIGORIN. What a lovely bird! Really, I can’t bear to go away. Can’t you
+persuade Irina to stay? [He writes something in his note-book.]
+
+NINA. What are you writing?
+
+TRIGORIN. Nothing much, only an idea that occurred to me. [He puts the
+book back in his pocket] An idea for a short story. A young girl grows
+up on the shores of a lake, as you have. She loves the lake as the gulls
+do, and is as happy and free as they. But a man sees her who chances to
+come that way, and he destroys her out of idleness, as this gull here
+has been destroyed. [A pause. ARKADINA appears at one of the windows.]
+
+ARKADINA. Boris! Where are you?
+
+TRIGORIN. I am coming this minute.
+
+He goes toward the house, looking back at NINA. ARKADINA remains at the
+window.
+
+TRIGORIN. What do you want?
+
+ARKADINA. We are not going away, after all.
+
+TRIGORIN goes into the house. NINA comes forward and stands lost in
+thought.
+
+NINA. It is a dream!
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III
+
+_The dining-room of SORIN’S house. Doors open out of it to the right
+and left. A table stands in the centre of the room. Trunks and boxes
+encumber the floor, and preparations for departure are evident. TRIGORIN
+is sitting at a table eating his breakfast, and MASHA is standing beside
+him_.
+
+MASHA. I am telling you all these things because you write books and
+they may be useful to you. I tell you honestly, I should not have lived
+another day if he had wounded himself fatally. Yet I am courageous; I
+have decided to tear this love of mine out of my heart by the roots.
+
+TRIGORIN. How will you do it?
+
+MASHA. By marrying Medviedenko.
+
+TRIGORIN. The school-teacher?
+
+MASHA. Yes.
+
+TRIGORIN. I don’t see the necessity for that.
+
+MASHA. Oh, if you knew what it is to love without hope for years and
+years, to wait for ever for something that will never come! I shall not
+marry for love, but marriage will at least be a change, and will bring
+new cares to deaden the memories of the past. Shall we have another
+drink?
+
+TRIGORIN. Haven’t you had enough?
+
+MASHA. Fiddlesticks! [She fills a glass] Don’t look at me with that
+expression on your face. Women drink oftener than you imagine, but most
+of them do it in secret, and not openly, as I do. They do indeed, and
+it is always either vodka or brandy. [They touch glasses] To your good
+health! You are so easy to get on with that I am sorry to see you go.
+[They drink.]
+
+TRIGORIN. And I am sorry to leave.
+
+MASHA. You should ask her to stay.
+
+TRIGORIN. She would not do that now. Her son has been behaving
+outrageously. First he attempted suicide, and now I hear he is going
+to challenge me to a duel, though what his provocation may be I can’t
+imagine. He is always sulking and sneering and preaching about a new
+form of art, as if the field of art were not large enough to accommodate
+both old and new without the necessity of jostling.
+
+MASHA. It is jealousy. However, that is none of my business. [A pause.
+JACOB walks through the room carrying a trunk; NINA comes in and stands
+by the window] That schoolteacher of mine is none too clever, but he
+is very good, poor man, and he loves me dearly, and I am sorry for him.
+However, let me say good-bye and wish you a pleasant journey. Remember
+me kindly in your thoughts. [She shakes hands with him] Thanks for your
+goodwill. Send me your books, and be sure to write something in them;
+nothing formal, but simply this: “To Masha, who, forgetful of her
+origin, for some unknown reason is living in this world.” Good-bye. [She
+goes out.]
+
+NINA. [Holding out her closed hand to TRIGORIN] Is it odd or even?
+
+TRIGORIN. Even.
+
+NINA. [With a sigh] No, it is odd. I had only one pea in my hand. I
+wanted to see whether I was to become an actress or not. If only some
+one would advise me what to do!
+
+TRIGORIN. One cannot give advice in a case like this. [A pause.]
+
+NINA. We shall soon part, perhaps never to meet again. I should like you
+to accept this little medallion as a remembrance of me. I have had your
+initials engraved on it, and on this side is the name of one of your
+books: “Days and Nights.”
+
+TRIGORIN. How sweet of you! [He kisses the medallion] It is a lovely
+present.
+
+NINA. Think of me sometimes.
+
+TRIGORIN. I shall never forget you. I shall always remember you as I saw
+you that bright day--do you recall it?--a week ago, when you wore your
+light dress, and we talked together, and the white seagull lay on the
+bench beside us.
+
+NINA. [Lost in thought] Yes, the sea-gull. [A pause] I beg you to let me
+see you alone for two minutes before you go.
+
+She goes out to the left. At the same moment ARKADINA comes in from the
+right, followed by SORIN in a long coat, with his orders on his breast,
+and by JACOB, who is busy packing.
+
+ARKADINA. Stay here at home, you poor old man. How could you pay visits
+with that rheumatism of yours? [To TRIGORIN] Who left the room just now,
+was it Nina?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes.
+
+ARKADINA. I beg your pardon; I am afraid we interrupted you. [She sits
+down] I think everything is packed. I am absolutely exhausted.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Reading the inscription on the medallion] “Days and Nights,
+page 121, lines 11 and 12.”
+
+JACOB. [Clearing the table] Shall I pack your fishing-rods, too, sir?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes, I shall need them, but you can give my books away.
+
+JACOB. Very well, sir.
+
+TRIGORIN. [To himself] Page 121, lines 11 and 12. [To ARKADINA] Have we
+my books here in the house?
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, they are in my brother’s library, in the corner cupboard.
+
+TRIGORIN. Page 121--[He goes out.]
+
+SORIN. You are going away, and I shall be lonely without you.
+
+ARKADINA. What would you do in town?
+
+SORIN. Oh, nothing in particular, but somehow--[He laughs] They are soon
+to lay the corner-stone of the new court-house here. How I should like
+to leap out of this minnow-pond, if but for an hour or two! I am tired
+of lying here like an old cigarette stump. I have ordered the carriage
+for one o’clock. We can go away together.
+
+ARKADINA. [After a pause] No, you must stay here. Don’t be lonely, and
+don’t catch cold. Keep an eye on my boy. Take good care of him; guide
+him along the proper paths. [A pause] I am going away, and so shall
+never find out why Constantine shot himself, but I think the chief
+reason was jealousy, and the sooner I take Trigorin away, the better.
+
+SORIN. There were--how shall I explain it to you?--other reasons besides
+jealousy for his act. Here is a clever young chap living in the depths
+of the country, without money or position, with no future ahead of him,
+and with nothing to do. He is ashamed and afraid of being so idle. I am
+devoted to him and he is fond of me, but nevertheless he feels that he
+is useless here, that he is little more than a dependent in this house.
+It is the pride in him.
+
+ARKADINA. He is a misery to me! [Thoughtfully] He might possibly enter
+the army.
+
+SORIN. [Gives a whistle, and then speaks with hesitation] It seems to
+me that the best thing for him would be if you were to let him have
+a little money. For one thing, he ought to be allowed to dress like a
+human being. See how he looks! Wearing the same little old coat that
+he has had for three years, and he doesn’t even possess an overcoat!
+[Laughing] And it wouldn’t hurt the youngster to sow a few wild oats;
+let him go abroad, say, for a time. It wouldn’t cost much.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, but--However, I think I might manage about his clothes,
+but I couldn’t let him go abroad. And no, I don’t think I can let him
+have his clothes even, now. [Decidedly] I have no money at present.
+
+SORIN laughs.
+
+ARKADINA. I haven’t indeed.
+
+SORIN. [Whistles] Very well. Forgive me, darling; don’t be angry. You
+are a noble, generous woman!
+
+ARKADINA. [Weeping] I really haven’t the money.
+
+SORIN. If I had any money of course I should let him have some myself,
+but I haven’t even a penny. The farm manager takes my pension from me
+and puts it all into the farm or into cattle or bees, and in that way it
+is always lost for ever. The bees die, the cows die, they never let me
+have a horse.
+
+ARKADINA. Of course I have some money, but I am an actress and my
+expenses for dress alone are enough to bankrupt me.
+
+SORIN. You are a dear, and I am very fond of you, indeed I am. But
+something is the matter with me again. [He staggers] I feel giddy. [He
+leans against the table] I feel faint, and all.
+
+ARKADINA. [Frightened ] Peter! [She tries to support him] Peter!
+dearest! [She calls] Help! Help!
+
+TREPLIEFF and MEDVIEDENKO come in; TREPLIEFF has a bandage around his
+head.
+
+ARKADINA. He is fainting!
+
+SORIN. I am all right. [He smiles and drinks some water] It is all over
+now.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [To his mother] Don’t be frightened, mother, these attacks
+are not dangerous; my uncle often has them now. [To his uncle] You must
+go and lie down, Uncle.
+
+SORIN. Yes, I think I shall, for a few minutes. I am going to Moscow
+all the same, but I shall lie down a bit before I start. [He goes out
+leaning on his cane.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. [Giving him his arm] Do you know this riddle? On four legs
+in the morning; on two legs at noon; and on three legs in the evening?
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] Yes, exactly, and on one’s back at night. Thank you, I
+can walk alone.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Dear me, what formality! [He and SORIN go out.]
+
+ARKADINA. He gave me a dreadful fright.
+
+TREPLIEFF. It is not good for him to live in the country. Mother, if you
+would only untie your purse-strings for once, and lend him a thousand
+roubles! He could then spend a whole year in town.
+
+ARKADINA. I have no money. I am an actress and not a banker. [A pause.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Please change my bandage for me, mother, you do it so gently.
+
+ARKADINA goes to the cupboard and takes out a box of bandages and a
+bottle of iodoform.
+
+ARKADINA. The doctor is late.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, he promised to be here at nine, and now it is noon
+already.
+
+ARKADINA. Sit down. [She takes the bandage off his head] You look as if
+you had a turban on. A stranger that was in the kitchen yesterday asked
+to what nationality you belonged. Your wound is almost healed. [She
+kisses his head] You won’t be up to any more of these silly tricks
+again, will you, when I am gone?
+
+TREPLIEFF. No, mother. I did that in a moment of insane despair, when I
+had lost all control over myself. It will never happen again. [He kisses
+her hand] Your touch is golden. I remember when you were still acting at
+the State Theatre, long ago, when I was still a little chap, there was a
+fight one day in our court, and a poor washerwoman was almost beaten to
+death. She was picked up unconscious, and you nursed her till she was
+well, and bathed her children in the washtubs. Have you forgotten it?
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, entirely. [She puts on a new bandage.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Two ballet dancers lived in the same house, and they used to
+come and drink coffee with you.
+
+ARKADINA. I remember that.
+
+TREPLIEFF. They were very pious. [A pause] I love you again, these last
+few days, as tenderly and trustingly as I did as a child. I have no one
+left me now but you. Why, why do you let yourself be controlled by that
+man?
+
+ARKADINA. You don’t understand him, Constantine. He has a wonderfully
+noble personality.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nevertheless, when he has been told that I wish to challenge
+him to a duel his nobility does not prevent him from playing the coward.
+He is about to beat an ignominious retreat.
+
+ARKADINA. What nonsense! I have asked him myself to go.
+
+TREPLIEFF. A noble personality indeed! Here we are almost quarrelling
+over him, and he is probably in the garden laughing at us at this very
+moment, or else enlightening Nina’s mind and trying to persuade her into
+thinking him a man of genius.
+
+ARKADINA. You enjoy saying unpleasant things to me. I have the greatest
+respect for that man, and I must ask you not to speak ill of him in my
+presence.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I have no respect for him at all. You want me to think him a
+genius, as you do, but I refuse to lie: his books make me sick.
+
+ARKADINA. You envy him. There is nothing left for people with no talent
+and mighty pretensions to do but to criticise those who are really
+gifted. I hope you enjoy the consolation it brings.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [With irony] Those who are really gifted, indeed! [Angrily] I
+am cleverer than any of you, if it comes to that! [He tears the bandage
+off his head] You are the slaves of convention, you have seized the
+upper hand and now lay down as law everything that you do; all else you
+strangle and trample on. I refuse to accept your point of view, yours
+and his, I refuse!
+
+ARKADINA. That is the talk of a decadent.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Go back to your beloved stage and act the miserable
+ditch-water plays you so much admire!
+
+ARKADINA. I never acted in a play like that in my life. You couldn’t
+write even the trashiest music-hall farce, you idle good-for-nothing!
+
+TREPLIEFF. Miser!
+
+ARKADINA. Rag-bag!
+
+TREPLIEFF sits down and begins to cry softly.
+
+ARKADINA. [Walking up and down in great excitement] Don’t cry! You
+mustn’t cry! [She bursts into tears] You really mustn’t. [She kisses his
+forehead, his cheeks, his head] My darling child, forgive me. Forgive
+your wicked mother.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Embracing her] Oh, if you could only know what it is to have
+lost everything under heaven! She does not love me. I see I shall never
+be able to write. Every hope has deserted me.
+
+ARKADINA. Don’t despair. This will all pass. He is going away to-day,
+and she will love you once more. [She wipes away his tears] Stop crying.
+We have made peace again.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Kissing her hand] Yes, mother.
+
+ARKADINA. [Tenderly] Make your peace with him, too. Don’t fight with
+him. You surely won’t fight?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I won’t, but you must not insist on my seeing him again,
+mother, I couldn’t stand it. [TRIGORIN comes in] There he is; I am
+going. [He quickly puts the medicines away in the cupboard] The doctor
+will attend to my head.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Looking through the pages of a book] Page 121, lines 11 and
+12; here it is. [He reads] “If at any time you should have need of my
+life, come and take it.”
+
+TREPLIEFF picks up the bandage off the floor and goes out.
+
+ARKADINA. [Looking at her watch] The carriage will soon be here.
+
+TRIGORIN. [To himself] If at any time you should have need of my life,
+come and take it.
+
+ARKADINA. I hope your things are all packed.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Impatiently] Yes, yes. [In deep thought] Why do I hear a note
+of sadness that wrings my heart in this cry of a pure soul? If at any
+time you should have need of my life, come and take it. [To ARKADINA]
+Let us stay here one more day!
+
+ARKADINA shakes her head.
+
+TRIGORIN. Do let us stay!
+
+ARKADINA. I know, dearest, what keeps you here, but you must control
+yourself. Be sober; your emotions have intoxicated you a little.
+
+TRIGORIN. You must be sober, too. Be sensible; look upon what has
+happened as a true friend would. [Taking her hand] You are capable of
+self-sacrifice. Be a friend to me and release me!
+
+ARKADINA. [In deep excitement] Are you so much in love?
+
+TRIGORIN. I am irresistibly impelled toward her. It may be that this is
+just what I need.
+
+ARKADINA. What, the love of a country girl? Oh, how little you know
+yourself!
+
+TRIGORIN. People sometimes walk in their sleep, and so I feel as if
+I were asleep, and dreaming of her as I stand here talking to you. My
+imagination is shaken by the sweetest and most glorious visions. Release
+me!
+
+ARKADINA. [Shuddering] No, no! I am only an ordinary woman; you must not
+say such things to me. Do not torment me, Boris; you frighten me.
+
+TRIGORIN. You could be an extraordinary woman if you only would. Love
+alone can bring happiness on earth, love the enchanting, the poetical
+love of youth, that sweeps away the sorrows of the world. I had no time
+for it when I was young and struggling with want and laying siege to the
+literary fortress, but now at last this love has come to me. I see it
+beckoning; why should I fly?
+
+ARKADINA. [With anger] You are mad!
+
+TRIGORIN. Release me.
+
+ARKADINA. You have all conspired together to torture me to-day. [She
+weeps.]
+
+TRIGORIN. [Clutching his head desperately] She doesn’t understand me!
+She won’t understand me!
+
+ARKADINA. Am I then so old and ugly already that you can talk to me like
+this without any shame about another woman? [She embraces and kisses
+him] Oh, you have lost your senses! My splendid, my glorious friend, my
+love for you is the last chapter of my life. [She falls on her knees]
+You are my pride, my joy, my light. [She embraces his knees] I could
+never endure it should you desert me, if only for an hour; I should go
+mad. Oh, my wonder, my marvel, my king!
+
+TRIGORIN. Some one might come in. [He helps her to rise.]
+
+ARKADINA. Let them come! I am not ashamed of my love. [She kisses his
+hands] My jewel! My despair! You want to do a foolish thing, but I don’t
+want you to do it. I shan’t let you do it! [She laughs] You are mine,
+you are mine! This forehead is mine, these eyes are mine, this silky
+hair is mine. All your being is mine. You are so clever, so wise, the
+first of all living writers; you are the only hope of your country. You
+are so fresh, so simple, so deeply humourous. You can bring out every
+feature of a man or of a landscape in a single line, and your characters
+live and breathe. Do you think that these words are but the incense of
+flattery? Do you think I am not speaking the truth? Come, look into my
+eyes; look deep; do you find lies there? No, you see that I alone know
+how to treasure you. I alone tell you the truth. Oh, my very dear, you
+will go with me? You will? You will not forsake me?
+
+TRIGORIN. I have no will of my own; I never had. I am too indolent, too
+submissive, too phlegmatic, to have any. Is it possible that women like
+that? Take me. Take me away with you, but do not let me stir a step from
+your side.
+
+ARKADINA. [To herself] Now he is mine! [Carelessly, as if nothing
+unusual had happened] Of course you must stay here if you really want
+to. I shall go, and you can follow in a week’s time. Yes, really, why
+should you hurry away?
+
+TRIGORIN. Let us go together.
+
+ARKADINA. As you like. Let us go together then. [A pause. TRIGORIN
+writes something in his note-book] What are you writing?
+
+TRIGORIN. A happy expression I heard this morning: “A grove of maiden
+pines.” It may be useful. [He yawns] So we are really off again,
+condemned once more to railway carriages, to stations and restaurants,
+to Hamburger steaks and endless arguments!
+
+SHAMRAEFF comes in.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. I am sorry to have to inform you that your carriage is at the
+door. It is time to start, honoured madam, the train leaves at two-five.
+Would you be kind enough, madam, to remember to inquire for me where
+Suzdaltzeff the actor is now? Is he still alive, I wonder? Is he well?
+He and I have had many a jolly time together. He was inimitable in “The
+Stolen Mail.” A tragedian called Izmailoff was in the same company, I
+remember, who was also quite remarkable. Don’t hurry, madam, you still
+have five minutes. They were both of them conspirators once, in the
+same melodrama, and one night when in the course of the play they were
+suddenly discovered, instead of saying “We have been trapped!” Izmailoff
+cried out: “We have been rapped!” [He laughs] Rapped!
+
+While he has been talking JACOB has been busy with the trunks, and the
+maid has brought ARKADINA her hat, coat, parasol, and gloves. The cook
+looks hesitatingly through the door on the right, and finally comes into
+the room. PAULINA comes in. MEDVIEDENKO comes in.
+
+PAULINA. [Presenting ARKADINA with a little basket] Here are some
+plums for the journey. They are very sweet ones. You may want to nibble
+something good on the way.
+
+ARKADINA. You are very kind, Paulina.
+
+PAULINA. Good-bye, my dearie. If things have not been quite as you could
+have wished, please forgive us. [She weeps.]
+
+ARKADINA. It has been delightful, delightful. You mustn’t cry.
+
+SORIN comes in through the door on the left, dressed in a long coat with
+a cape, and carrying his hat and cane. He crosses the room.
+
+SORIN. Come, sister, it is time to start, unless you want to miss the
+train. I am going to get into the carriage. [He goes out.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I shall walk quickly to the station and see you off there.
+[He goes out.]
+
+ARKADINA. Good-bye, all! We shall meet again next summer if we live.
+[The maid servant, JACOB, and the cook kiss her hand] Don’t forget me.
+[She gives the cook a rouble] There is a rouble for all three of you.
+
+THE COOK. Thank you, mistress; a pleasant journey to you.
+
+JACOB. God bless you, mistress.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Send us a line to cheer us up. [TO TRIGORIN] Good-bye, sir.
+
+ARKADINA. Where is Constantine? Tell him I am starting. I must say
+good-bye to him. [To JACOB] I gave the cook a rouble for all three of
+you.
+
+All go out through the door on the right. The stage remains empty.
+Sounds of farewell are heard. The maid comes running back to fetch the
+basket of plums which has been forgotten. TRIGORIN comes back.
+
+TRIGORIN. I had forgotten my cane. I think I left it on the terrace. [He
+goes toward the door on the right and meets NINA, who comes in at that
+moment] Is that you? We are off.
+
+NINA. I knew we should meet again. [With emotion] I have come to an
+irrevocable decision, the die is cast: I am going on the stage. I am
+deserting my father and abandoning everything. I am beginning life anew.
+I am going, as you are, to Moscow. We shall meet there.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Glancing about him] Go to the Hotel Slavianski Bazar. Let
+me know as soon as you get there. I shall be at the Grosholski House in
+Moltchanofka Street. I must go now. [A pause.]
+
+NINA. Just one more minute!
+
+TRIGORIN. [In a low voice] You are so beautiful! What bliss to think
+that I shall see you again so soon! [She sinks on his breast] I shall
+see those glorious eyes again, that wonderful, ineffably tender smile,
+those gentle features with their expression of angelic purity! My
+darling! [A prolonged kiss.]
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+Two years elapse between the third and fourth acts.
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+_A sitting-room in SORIN’S house, which has been converted into a
+writing-room for TREPLIEFF. To the right and left are doors leading into
+inner rooms, and in the centre is a glass door opening onto a terrace.
+Besides the usual furniture of a sitting-room there is a writing-desk
+in the right-hand corner of the room. There is a Turkish divan near the
+door on the left, and shelves full of books stand against the walls.
+Books are lying scattered about on the windowsills and chairs. It is
+evening. The room is dimly lighted by a shaded lamp on a table. The wind
+moans in the tree tops and whistles down the chimney. The watchman in
+the garden is heard sounding his rattle. MEDVIEDENKO and MASHA come in_.
+
+MASHA. [Calling TREPLIEFF] Mr. Constantine, where are you? [Looking
+about her] There is no one here. His old uncle is forever asking for
+Constantine, and can’t live without him for an instant.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. He dreads being left alone. [Listening to the wind] This is
+a wild night. We have had this storm for two days.
+
+MASHA. [Turning up the lamp] The waves on the lake are enormous.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is very dark in the garden. Do you know, I think that
+old theatre ought to be knocked down. It is still standing there, naked
+and hideous as a skeleton, with the curtain flapping in the wind. I
+thought I heard a voice weeping in it as I passed there last night.
+
+MASHA. What an idea! [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Come home with me, Masha.
+
+MASHA. [Shaking her head] I shall spend the night here.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. [Imploringly] Do come, Masha. The baby must be hungry.
+
+MASHA. Nonsense, Matriona will feed it. [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is a pity to leave him three nights without his mother.
+
+MASHA. You are getting too tiresome. You used sometimes to talk of other
+things besides home and the baby, home and the baby. That is all I ever
+hear from you now.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Come home, Masha.
+
+MASHA. You can go home if you want to.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Your father won’t give me a horse.
+
+MASHA. Yes, he will; ask him.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I think I shall. Are you coming home to-morrow?
+
+MASHA. Yes, yes, to-morrow.
+
+She takes snuff. TREPLIEFF and PAULINA come in. TREPLIEFF is carrying
+some pillows and a blanket, and PAULINA is carrying sheets and pillow
+cases. They lay them on the divan, and TREPLIEFF goes and sits down at
+his desk.
+
+MASHA. Who is that for, mother?
+
+PAULINA. Mr. Sorin asked to sleep in Constantine’s room to-night.
+
+MASHA. Let me make the bed.
+
+She makes the bed. PAULINA goes up to the desk and looks at the
+manuscripts lying on it. [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Well, I am going. Good-bye, Masha. [He kisses his wife’s
+hand] Good-bye, mother. [He tries to kiss his mother-in-law’s hand.]
+
+PAULINA. [Crossly] Be off, in God’s name!
+
+TREPLIEFF shakes hands with him in silence, and MEDVIEDENKO goes out.
+
+PAULINA. [Looking at the manuscripts] No one ever dreamed, Constantine,
+that you would one day turn into a real author. The magazines pay you
+well for your stories. [She strokes his hair.] You have grown handsome,
+too. Dear, kind Constantine, be a little nicer to my Masha.
+
+MASHA. [Still making the bed] Leave him alone, mother.
+
+PAULINA. She is a sweet child. [A pause] A woman, Constantine, asks only
+for kind looks. I know that from experience.
+
+TREPLIEFF gets up from his desk and goes out without a word.
+
+MASHA. There now! You have vexed him. I told you not to bother him.
+
+PAULINA. I am sorry for you, Masha.
+
+MASHA. Much I need your pity!
+
+PAULINA. My heart aches for you. I see how things are, and understand.
+
+MASHA. You see what doesn’t exist. Hopeless love is only found in
+novels. It is a trifle; all one has to do is to keep a tight rein on
+oneself, and keep one’s head clear. Love must be plucked out the moment
+it springs up in the heart. My husband has been promised a school in
+another district, and when we have once left this place I shall forget
+it all. I shall tear my passion out by the roots. [The notes of a
+melancholy waltz are heard in the distance.]
+
+PAULINA. Constantine is playing. That means he is sad.
+
+MASHA silently waltzes a few turns to the music.
+
+MASHA. The great thing, mother, is not to have him continually in sight.
+If my Simon could only get his remove I should forget it all in a month
+or two. It is a trifle.
+
+DORN and MEDVIEDENKO come in through the door on the left, wheeling
+SORIN in an arm-chair.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I have six mouths to feed now, and flour is at seventy
+kopecks.
+
+DORN. A hard riddle to solve!
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is easy for you to make light of it. You are rich enough
+to scatter money to your chickens, if you wanted to.
+
+DORN. You think I am rich? My friend, after practising for thirty years,
+during which I could not call my soul my own for one minute of the night
+or day, I succeeded at last in scraping together one thousand roubles,
+all of which went, not long ago, in a trip which I took abroad. I
+haven’t a penny.
+
+MASHA. [To her husband] So you didn’t go home after all?
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. [Apologetically] How can I go home when they won’t give me
+a horse?
+
+MASHA. [Under her breath, with bitter anger] Would I might never see
+your face again!
+
+SORIN in his chair is wheeled to the left-hand side of the room.
+PAULINA, MASHA, and DORN sit down beside him. MEDVIEDENKO stands sadly
+aside.
+
+DORN. What a lot of changes you have made here! You have turned this
+sitting-room into a library.
+
+MASHA. Constantine likes to work in this room, because from it he can
+step out into the garden to meditate whenever he feels like it. [The
+watchman’s rattle is heard.]
+
+SORIN. Where is my sister?
+
+DORN. She has gone to the station to meet Trigorin. She will soon be
+back.
+
+SORIN. I must be dangerously ill if you had to send for my sister.
+[He falls silent for a moment] A nice business this is! Here I am
+dangerously ill, and you won’t even give me any medicine.
+
+DORN. What shall I prescribe for you? Camomile tea? Soda? Quinine?
+
+SORIN. Don’t inflict any of your discussions on me again. [He nods
+toward the sofa] Is that bed for me?
+
+PAULINA. Yes, for you, sir.
+
+SORIN. Thank you.
+
+DORN. [Sings] “The moon swims in the sky to-night.”
+
+SORIN. I am going to give Constantine an idea for a story. It shall be
+called “The Man Who Wished--L’Homme qui a voulu.” When I was young, I
+wished to become an author; I failed. I wished to be an orator; I speak
+abominably, [Exciting himself] with my eternal “and all, and all,”
+ dragging each sentence on and on until I sometimes break out into a
+sweat all over. I wished to marry, and I didn’t; I wished to live in the
+city, and here I am ending my days in the country, and all.
+
+DORN. You wished to become State Councillor, and--you are one!
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] I didn’t try for that, it came of its own accord.
+
+DORN. Come, you must admit that it is petty to cavil at life at
+sixty-two years of age.
+
+SORIN. You are pig-headed! Can’t you see I want to live?
+
+DORN. That is futile. Nature has commanded that every life shall come to
+an end.
+
+SORIN. You speak like a man who is satiated with life. Your thirst for
+it is quenched, and so you are calm and indifferent, but even you dread
+death.
+
+DORN. The fear of death is an animal passion which must be overcome.
+Only those who believe in a future life and tremble for sins committed,
+can logically fear death; but you, for one thing, don’t believe in a
+future life, and for another, you haven’t committed any sins. You have
+served as a Councillor for twenty-five years, that is all.
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] Twenty-eight years!
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in and sits down on a stool at SORIN’S feet. MASHA fixes
+her eyes on his face and never once tears them away.
+
+DORN. We are keeping Constantine from his work.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No matter. [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Of all the cities you visited when you were abroad, Doctor,
+which one did you like the best?
+
+DORN. Genoa.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Why Genoa?
+
+DORN. Because there is such a splendid crowd in its streets. When you
+leave the hotel in the evening, and throw yourself into the heart of
+that throng, and move with it without aim or object, swept along, hither
+and thither, their life seems to be yours, their soul flows into you,
+and you begin to believe at last in a great world spirit, like the one
+in your play that Nina Zarietchnaya acted. By the way, where is Nina
+now? Is she well?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I believe so.
+
+DORN. I hear she has led rather a strange life; what happened?
+
+TREPLIEFF. It is a long story, Doctor.
+
+DORN. Tell it shortly. [A pause.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. She ran away from home and joined Trigorin; you know that?
+
+DORN. Yes.
+
+TREPLIEFF. She had a child that died. Trigorin soon tired of her and
+returned to his former ties, as might have been expected. He had
+never broken them, indeed, but out of weakness of character had always
+vacillated between the two. As far as I can make out from what I have
+heard, Nina’s domestic life has not been altogether a success.
+
+DORN. What about her acting?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I believe she made an even worse failure of that. She made
+her debut on the stage of the Summer Theatre in Moscow, and afterward
+made a tour of the country towns. At that time I never let her out of my
+sight, and wherever she went I followed. She always attempted great
+and difficult parts, but her delivery was harsh and monotonous, and her
+gestures heavy and crude. She shrieked and died well at times, but those
+were but moments.
+
+DORN. Then she really has a talent for acting?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I never could make out. I believe she has. I saw her, but she
+refused to see me, and her servant would never admit me to her rooms. I
+appreciated her feelings, and did not insist upon a meeting. [A pause]
+What more can I tell you? She sometimes writes to me now that I have
+come home, such clever, sympathetic letters, full of warm feeling. She
+never complains, but I can tell that she is profoundly unhappy; not a
+line but speaks to me of an aching, breaking nerve. She has one strange
+fancy; she always signs herself “The Sea-gull.” The miller in “Rusalka”
+ called himself “The Crow,” and so she repeats in all her letters that
+she is a sea-gull. She is here now.
+
+DORN. What do you mean by “here?”
+
+TREPLIEFF. In the village, at the inn. She has been there for five days.
+I should have gone to see her, but Masha here went, and she refuses to
+see any one. Some one told me she had been seen wandering in the fields
+a mile from here yesterday evening.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, I saw her. She was walking away from here in the
+direction of the village. I asked her why she had not been to see us.
+She said she would come.
+
+TREPLIEFF. But she won’t. [A pause] Her father and stepmother have
+disowned her. They have even put watchmen all around their estate to
+keep her away. [He goes with the doctor toward the desk] How easy it is,
+Doctor, to be a philosopher on paper, and how difficult in real life!
+
+SORIN. She was a beautiful girl. Even the State Councillor himself was
+in love with her for a time.
+
+DORN. You old Lovelace, you!
+
+SHAMRAEFF’S laugh is heard.
+
+PAULINA. They are coming back from the station.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, I hear my mother’s voice.
+
+ARKADINA and TRIGORIN come in, followed by SHAMRAEFF.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. We all grow old and wither, my lady, while you alone, with
+your light dress, your gay spirits, and your grace, keep the secret of
+eternal youth.
+
+ARKADINA. You are still trying to turn my head, you tiresome old man.
+
+TRIGORIN. [To SORIN] How do you do, Peter? What, still ill? How silly of
+you! [With evident pleasure, as he catches sight of MASHA] How are you,
+Miss Masha?
+
+MASHA. So you recognised me? [She shakes hands with him.]
+
+TRIGORIN. Did you marry him?
+
+MASHA. Long ago.
+
+TRIGORIN. You are happy now? [He bows to DORN and MEDVIEDENKO, and then
+goes hesitatingly toward TREPLIEFF] Your mother says you have forgotten
+the past and are no longer angry with me.
+
+TREPLIEFF gives him his hand.
+
+ARKADINA. [To her son] Here is a magazine that Boris has brought you
+with your latest story in it.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [To TRIGORIN, as he takes the magazine] Many thanks; you are
+very kind.
+
+TRIGORIN. Your admirers all send you their regards. Every one in Moscow
+and St. Petersburg is interested in you, and all ply me with questions
+about you. They ask me what you look like, how old you are, whether you
+are fair or dark. For some reason they all think that you are no longer
+young, and no one knows who you are, as you always write under an
+assumed name. You are as great a mystery as the Man in the Iron Mask.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Do you expect to be here long?
+
+TRIGORIN. No, I must go back to Moscow to-morrow. I am finishing another
+novel, and have promised something to a magazine besides. In fact, it is
+the same old business.
+
+During their conversation ARKADINA and PAULINA have put up a card-table
+in the centre of the room; SHAMRAEFF lights the candles and arranges the
+chairs, then fetches a box of lotto from the cupboard.
+
+TRIGORIN. The weather has given me a rough welcome. The wind is
+frightful. If it goes down by morning I shall go fishing in the
+lake, and shall have a look at the garden and the spot--do you
+remember?--where your play was given. I remember the piece very well,
+but should like to see again where the scene was laid.
+
+MASHA. [To her father] Father, do please let my husband have a horse. He
+ought to go home.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Angrily] A horse to go home with! [Sternly] You know the
+horses have just been to the station. I can’t send them out again.
+
+MASHA. But there are other horses. [Seeing that her father remains
+silent] You are impossible!
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I shall go on foot, Masha.
+
+PAULINA. [With a sigh] On foot in this weather? [She takes a seat at the
+card-table] Shall we begin?
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is only six miles. Good-bye. [He kisses his wife’s
+hand;] Good-bye, mother. [His mother-in-law gives him her hand
+unwillingly] I should not have troubled you all, but the baby--[He bows
+to every one] Good-bye. [He goes out with an apologetic air.]
+
+SHAMRAEFF. He will get there all right, he is not a major-general.
+
+PAULINA. Come, let us begin. Don’t let us waste time, we shall soon be
+called to supper.
+
+SHAMRAEFF, MASHA, and DORN sit down at the card-table.
+
+ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] When the long autumn evenings descend on us we
+while away the time here by playing lotto. Look at this old set; we used
+it when our mother played with us as children. Don’t you want to take a
+hand in the game with us until supper time? [She and TRIGORIN sit down
+at the table] It is a monotonous game, but it is all right when one gets
+used to it. [She deals three cards to each of the players.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Looking through the pages of the magazine] He has read his
+own story, and hasn’t even cut the pages of mine.
+
+He lays the magazine on his desk and goes toward the door on the right,
+stopping as he passes his mother to give her a kiss.
+
+ARKADINA. Won’t you play, Constantine?
+
+TREPLIEFF. No, excuse me please, I don’t feel like it. I am going to
+take a turn through the rooms. [He goes out.]
+
+MASHA. Are you all ready? I shall begin: twenty-two.
+
+ARKADINA. Here it is.
+
+MASHA. Three.
+
+DORN. Right.
+
+MASHA. Have you put down three? Eight. Eighty-one. Ten.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Don’t go so fast.
+
+ARKADINA. Could you believe it? I am still dazed by the reception they
+gave me in Kharkoff.
+
+MASHA. Thirty-four. [The notes of a melancholy waltz are heard.]
+
+ARKADINA. The students gave me an ovation; they sent me three baskets of
+flowers, a wreath, and this thing here.
+
+She unclasps a brooch from her breast and lays it on the table.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. There is something worth while!
+
+MASHA. Fifty.
+
+DORN. Fifty, did you say?
+
+ARKADINA. I wore a perfectly magnificent dress; I am no fool when it
+comes to clothes.
+
+PAULINA. Constantine is playing again; the poor boy is sad.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. He has been severely criticised in the papers.
+
+MASHA. Seventy-seven.
+
+ARKADINA. They want to attract attention to him.
+
+TRIGORIN. He doesn’t seem able to make a success, he can’t somehow
+strike the right note. There is an odd vagueness about his writings
+that sometimes verges on delirium. He has never created a single living
+character.
+
+MASHA. Eleven.
+
+ARKADINA. Are you bored, Peter? [A pause] He is asleep.
+
+DORN. The Councillor is taking a nap.
+
+MASHA. Seven. Ninety.
+
+TRIGORIN. Do you think I should write if I lived in such a place as
+this, on the shore of this lake? Never! I should overcome my passion,
+and give my life up to the catching of fish.
+
+MASHA. Twenty-eight.
+
+TRIGORIN. And if I caught a perch or a bass, what bliss it would be!
+
+DORN. I have great faith in Constantine. I know there is something in
+him. He thinks in images; his stories are vivid and full of colour,
+and always affect me deeply. It is only a pity that he has no definite
+object in view. He creates impressions, and nothing more, and one cannot
+go far on impressions alone. Are you glad, madam, that you have an
+author for a son?
+
+ARKADINA. Just think, I have never read anything of his; I never have
+time.
+
+MASHA. Twenty-six.
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in quietly and sits down at his table.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [To TRIGORIN] We have something here that belongs to you,
+sir.
+
+TRIGORIN. What is it?
+
+SHAMRAEFF. You told me to have the sea-gull stuffed that Mr. Constantine
+killed some time ago.
+
+TRIGORIN. Did I? [Thoughtfully] I don’t remember.
+
+MASHA. Sixty-one. One.
+
+TREPLIEFF throws open the window and stands listening.
+
+TREPLIEFF. How dark the night is! I wonder what makes me so restless.
+
+ARKADINA. Shut the window, Constantine, there is a draught here.
+
+TREPLIEFF shuts the window.
+
+MASHA. Ninety-eight.
+
+TRIGORIN. See, my card is full.
+
+ARKADINA. [Gaily] Bravo! Bravo!
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Bravo!
+
+ARKADINA. Wherever he goes and whatever he does, that man always has
+good luck. [She gets up] And now, come to supper. Our renowned guest did
+not have any dinner to-day. We can continue our game later. [To her son]
+Come, Constantine, leave your writing and come to supper.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I don’t want anything to eat, mother; I am not hungry.
+
+ARKADINA. As you please. [She wakes SORIN] Come to supper, Peter. [She
+takes SHAMRAEFF’S arm] Let me tell you about my reception in Kharkoff.
+
+PAULINA blows out the candles on the table, then she and DORN roll
+SORIN’S chair out of the room, and all go out through the door on the
+left, except TREPLIEFF, who is left alone. TREPLIEFF prepares to write.
+He runs his eye over what he has already written.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I have talked a great deal about new forms of art, but I feel
+myself gradually slipping into the beaten track. [He reads] “The
+placard cried it from the wall--a pale face in a frame of dusky
+hair”--cried--frame--that is stupid. [He scratches out what he has
+written] I shall begin again from the place where my hero is wakened by
+the noise of the rain, but what follows must go. This description of a
+moonlight night is long and stilted. Trigorin has worked out a process
+of his own, and descriptions are easy for him. He writes that the neck
+of a broken bottle lying on the bank glittered in the moonlight, and
+that the shadows lay black under the mill-wheel. There you have a
+moonlight night before your eyes, but I speak of the shimmering light,
+the twinkling stars, the distant sounds of a piano melting into the
+still and scented air, and the result is abominable. [A pause] The
+conviction is gradually forcing itself upon me that good literature is
+not a question of forms new or old, but of ideas that must pour freely
+from the author’s heart, without his bothering his head about any forms
+whatsoever. [A knock is heard at the window nearest the table] What was
+that? [He looks out of the window] I can’t see anything. [He opens the
+glass door and looks out into the garden] I heard some one run down
+the steps. [He calls] Who is there? [He goes out, and is heard walking
+quickly along the terrace. In a few minutes he comes back with NINA
+ZARIETCHNAYA] Oh, Nina, Nina!
+
+NINA lays her head on TREPLIEFF’S breast and stifles her sobs.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Deeply moved] Nina, Nina! It is you--you! I felt you would
+come; all day my heart has been aching for you. [He takes off her hat
+and cloak] My darling, my beloved has come back to me! We mustn’t cry,
+we mustn’t cry.
+
+NINA. There is some one here.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No one is here.
+
+NINA. Lock the door, some one might come.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No one will come in.
+
+NINA. I know your mother is here. Lock the door.
+
+TREPLIEFF locks the door on the right and comes back to NINA.
+
+TREPLIEFF. There is no lock on that one. I shall put a chair against
+it. [He puts an arm-chair against the door] Don’t be frightened, no one
+shall come in.
+
+NINA. [Gazing intently into his face] Let me look at you. [She looks
+about her] It is warm and comfortable in here. This used to be a
+sitting-room. Have I changed much?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, you have grown thinner, and your eyes are larger than
+they were. Nina, it seems so strange to see you! Why didn’t you let me
+go to you? Why didn’t you come sooner to me? You have been here nearly a
+week, I know. I have been several times each day to where you live, and
+have stood like a beggar beneath your window.
+
+NINA. I was afraid you might hate me. I dream every night that you look
+at me without recognising me. I have been wandering about on the shores
+of the lake ever since I came back. I have often been near your house,
+but I have never had the courage to come in. Let us sit down. [They sit
+down] Let us sit down and talk our hearts out. It is so quiet and warm
+in here. Do you hear the wind whistling outside? As Turgenieff says,
+“Happy is he who can sit at night under the roof of his home, who has a
+warm corner in which to take refuge.” I am a sea-gull--and yet--no.
+[She passes her hand across her forehead] What was I saying? Oh, yes,
+Turgenieff. He says, “and God help all houseless wanderers.” [She sobs.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nina! You are crying again, Nina!
+
+NINA. It is all right. I shall feel better after this. I have not cried
+for two years. I went into the garden last night to see if our old
+theatre were still standing. I see it is. I wept there for the first
+time in two years, and my heart grew lighter, and my soul saw more
+clearly again. See, I am not crying now. [She takes his hand in hers]
+So you are an author now, and I am an actress. We have both been sucked
+into the whirlpool. My life used to be as happy as a child’s; I used to
+wake singing in the morning; I loved you and dreamt of fame, and what is
+the reality? To-morrow morning early I must start for Eltz by train in
+a third-class carriage, with a lot of peasants, and at Eltz the educated
+trades-people will pursue me with compliments. It is a rough life.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Why are you going to Eltz?
+
+NINA. I have accepted an engagement there for the winter. It is time for
+me to go.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nina, I have cursed you, and hated you, and torn up your
+photograph, and yet I have known every minute of my life that my heart
+and soul were yours for ever. To cease from loving you is beyond my
+power. I have suffered continually from the time I lost you and began
+to write, and my life has been almost unendurable. My youth was suddenly
+plucked from me then, and I seem now to have lived in this world for
+ninety years. I have called out to you, I have kissed the ground you
+walked on, wherever I looked I have seen your face before my eyes, and
+the smile that had illumined for me the best years of my life.
+
+NINA. [Despairingly] Why, why does he talk to me like this?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I am quite alone, unwarmed by any attachment. I am as cold
+as if I were living in a cave. Whatever I write is dry and gloomy and
+harsh. Stay here, Nina, I beseech you, or else let me go away with you.
+
+NINA quickly puts on her coat and hat.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nina, why do you do that? For God’s sake, Nina! [He watches
+her as she dresses. A pause.]
+
+NINA. My carriage is at the gate. Do not come out to see me off. I shall
+find the way alone. [Weeping] Let me have some water.
+
+TREPLIEFF hands her a glass of water.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Where are you going?
+
+NINA. Back to the village. Is your mother here?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, my uncle fell ill on Thursday, and we telegraphed for
+her to come.
+
+NINA. Why do you say that you have kissed the ground I walked on? You
+should kill me rather. [She bends over the table] I am so tired. If I
+could only rest--rest. [She raises her head] I am a sea-gull--no--no,
+I am an actress. [She hears ARKADINA and TRIGORIN laughing in the
+distance, runs to the door on the left and looks through the keyhole] He
+is there too. [She goes back to TREPLIEFF] Ah, well--no matter. He
+does not believe in the theatre; he used to laugh at my dreams, so that
+little by little I became down-hearted and ceased to believe in it too.
+Then came all the cares of love, the continual anxiety about my little
+one, so that I soon grew trivial and spiritless, and played my parts
+without meaning. I never knew what to do with my hands, and I could not
+walk properly or control my voice. You cannot imagine the state of mind
+of one who knows as he goes through a play how terribly badly he is
+acting. I am a sea-gull--no--no, that is not what I meant to say. Do you
+remember how you shot a seagull once? A man chanced to pass that way and
+destroyed it out of idleness. That is an idea for a short story, but it
+is not what I meant to say. [She passes her hand across her forehead]
+What was I saying? Oh, yes, the stage. I have changed now. Now I am a
+real actress. I act with joy, with exaltation, I am intoxicated by it,
+and feel that I am superb. I have been walking and walking, and thinking
+and thinking, ever since I have been here, and I feel the strength of
+my spirit growing in me every day. I know now, I understand at last,
+Constantine, that for us, whether we write or act, it is not the honour
+and glory of which I have dreamt that is important, it is the strength
+to endure. One must know how to bear one’s cross, and one must have
+faith. I believe, and so do not suffer so much, and when I think of my
+calling I do not fear life.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Sadly] You have found your way, you know where you are
+going, but I am still groping in a chaos of phantoms and dreams, not
+knowing whom and what end I am serving by it all. I do not believe in
+anything, and I do not know what my calling is.
+
+NINA. [Listening] Hush! I must go. Good-bye. When I have become a
+famous actress you must come and see me. Will you promise to come? But
+now--[She takes his hand] it is late. I can hardly stand. I am fainting.
+I am hungry.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Stay, and let me bring you some supper.
+
+NINA. No, no--and don’t come out, I can find the way alone. My carriage
+is not far away. So she brought him back with her? However, what
+difference can that make to me? Don’t tell Trigorin anything when you
+see him. I love him--I love him even more than I used to. It is an idea
+for a short story. I love him--I love him passionately--I love him to
+despair. Have you forgotten, Constantine, how pleasant the old times
+were? What a gay, bright, gentle, pure life we led? How a feeling as
+sweet and tender as a flower blossomed in our hearts? Do you remember,
+[She recites] “All men and beasts, lions, eagles, and quails, horned
+stags, geese, spiders, silent fish that inhabit the waves, starfish from
+the sea, and creatures invisible to the eye--in one word, life--all, all
+life, completing the dreary round set before it, has died out at last.
+A thousand years have passed since the earth last bore a living creature
+on its breast, and the unhappy moon now lights her lamp in vain. No
+longer are the cries of storks heard in the meadows, or the drone of
+beetles in the groves of limes----”
+
+She embraces TREPLIEFF impetuously and runs out onto the terrace.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [After a pause] It would be a pity if she were seen in the
+garden. My mother would be distressed.
+
+He stands for several minutes tearing up his manuscripts and throwing
+them under the table, then unlocks the door on the right and goes out.
+
+DORN. [Trying to force open the door on the left] Odd! This door seems
+to be locked. [He comes in and puts the chair back in its former place]
+This is like a hurdle race.
+
+ARKADINA and PAULINA come in, followed by JACOB carrying some bottles;
+then come MASHA, SHAMRAEFF, and TRIGORIN.
+
+ARKADINA. Put the claret and the beer here, on the table, so that we can
+drink while we are playing. Sit down, friends.
+
+PAULINA. And bring the tea at once.
+
+She lights the candles and takes her seat at the card-table. SHAMRAEFF
+leads TRIGORIN to the cupboard.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Here is the stuffed sea-gull I was telling you about. [He
+takes the sea-gull out of the cupboard] You told me to have it done.
+
+TRIGORIN. [looking at the bird] I don’t remember a thing about it, not a
+thing. [A shot is heard. Every one jumps.]
+
+ARKADINA. [Frightened] What was that?
+
+DORN. Nothing at all; probably one of my medicine bottles has blown up.
+Don’t worry. [He goes out through the door on the right, and comes back
+in a few moments] It is as I thought, a flask of ether has exploded. [He
+sings]
+
+“Spellbound once more I stand before thee.”
+
+ARKADINA. [Sitting down at the table] Heavens! I was really frightened.
+That noise reminded me of--[She covers her face with her hands]
+Everything is black before my eyes.
+
+DORN. [Looking through the pages of a magazine, to TRIGORIN] There was
+an article from America in this magazine about two months ago that I
+wanted to ask you about, among other things. [He leads TRIGORIN to the
+front of the stage] I am very much interested in this question. [He
+lowers his voice and whispers] You must take Madame Arkadina away from
+here; what I wanted to say was, that Constantine has shot himself.
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sea-Gull, by Anton Checkov
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+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      The Sea-gull, by Anton Checkov
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
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+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
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+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sea-Gull, by Anton Checkov
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sea-Gull
+
+Author: Anton Checkov
+
+Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1754]
+Last Updated: September 10, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEA-GULL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      THE SEA-GULL
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      by Anton Checkov
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      A Play In Four Acts
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      Contents
+    </h2>
+    <h4>
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> CHARACTERS </a><br /> <br /> <a
+      href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE SEA-GULL </a>
+    </h4>
+    <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto">
+      <tr>
+        <td>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> ACT I </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> ACT II </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> ACT III </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> ACT IV </a>
+          </p>
+        </td>
+      </tr>
+    </table>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHARACTERS
+    </h2>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p>
+        IRINA ABKADINA, an actress
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        CONSTANTINE TREPLIEFF, her son
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PETER SORIN, her brother
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA ZARIETCHNAYA, a young girl, the daughter of a rich landowner
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ILIA SHAMRAEFF, the manager of SORIN&rsquo;S estate
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA, his wife
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA, their daughter
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        BORIS TRIGORIN, an author
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        EUGENE DORN, a doctor
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SIMON MEDVIEDENKO, a schoolmaster
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        JACOB, a workman
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        A COOK
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        A MAIDSERVANT
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <i>The scene is laid on SORIN&rsquo;S estate. Two years elapse
+      between the third and fourth acts</i>. <a name="link2H_4_0002"
+       id="link2H_4_0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      THE SEA-GULL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      ACT I
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <i>The scene is laid in the park on SORIN&rsquo;S estate. A broad avenue of
+      trees leads away from the audience toward a lake which lies lost in the
+      depths of the park. The avenue is obstructed by a rough stage, temporarily
+      erected for the performance of amateur theatricals, and which screens the
+      lake from view. There is a dense growth of bushes to the left and right of
+      the stage. A few chairs and a little table are placed in front of the
+      stage. The sun has just set. JACOB and some other workmen are heard
+      hammering and coughing on the stage behind the lowered curtain</i>.
+    </p>
+    <div style="margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;">
+      <p>
+        MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO come in from the left, returning from a walk.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Why do you always wear mourning?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. I dress in black to match my life. I am unhappy.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Why should you be unhappy? [Thinking it over] I don&rsquo;t
+        understand it. You are healthy, and though your father is not rich, he
+        has a good competency. My life is far harder than yours. I only have
+        twenty-three roubles a month to live on, but I don&rsquo;t wear mourning.
+        [They sit down].
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Happiness does not depend on riches; poor men are often happy.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. In theory, yes, but not in reality. Take my case, for
+        instance; my mother, my two sisters, my little brother and I must all
+        live somehow on my salary of twenty-three roubles a month. We have to
+        eat and drink, I take it. You wouldn&rsquo;t have us go without tea and sugar,
+        would you? Or tobacco? Answer me that, if you can.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [Looking in the direction of the stage] The play will soon begin.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, Nina Zarietchnaya is going to act in Treplieff&rsquo;s play.
+        They love one another, and their two souls will unite to-night in the
+        effort to interpret the same idea by different means. There is no ground
+        on which your soul and mine can meet. I love you. Too restless and sad
+        to stay at home, I tramp here every day, six miles and back, to be met
+        only by your indifference. I am poor, my family is large, you can have
+        no inducement to marry a man who cannot even find sufficient food for
+        his own mouth.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. It is not that. [She takes snuff] I am touched by your affection,
+        but I cannot return it, that is all. [She offers him the snuff-box] Will
+        you take some?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. No, thank you. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. The air is sultry; a storm is brewing for to-night. You do
+        nothing but moralise or else talk about money. To you, poverty is the
+        greatest misfortune that can befall a man, but I think it is a thousand
+        times easier to go begging in rags than to&mdash;You wouldn&rsquo;t understand
+        that, though.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN leaning on a cane, and TREPLIEFF come in.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. For some reason, my boy, country life doesn&rsquo;t suit me, and I am
+        sure I shall never get used to it. Last night I went to bed at ten and
+        woke at nine this morning, feeling as if, from oversleep, my brain had
+        stuck to my skull. [Laughing] And yet I accidentally dropped off to
+        sleep again after dinner, and feel utterly done up at this moment. It is
+        like a nightmare.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. There is no doubt that you should live in town. [He catches
+        sight of MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO] You shall be called when the play
+        begins, my friends, but you must not stay here now. Go away, please.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Miss Masha, will you kindly ask your father to leave the dog
+        unchained? It howled so last night that my sister was unable to sleep.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. You must speak to my father yourself. Please excuse me; I can&rsquo;t
+        do so. [To MEDVIEDENKO] Come, let us go.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. You will let us know when the play begins?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO go out.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. I foresee that that dog is going to howl all night again. It is
+        always this way in the country; I have never been able to live as I like
+        here. I come down for a month&rsquo;s holiday, to rest and all, and am plagued
+        so by their nonsense that I long to escape after the first day.
+        [Laughing] I have always been glad to get away from this place, but I
+        have been retired now, and this was the only place I had to come to.
+        Willy-nilly, one must live somewhere.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        JACOB. [To TREPLIEFF] We are going to take a swim, Mr. Constantine.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Very well, but you must be back in ten minutes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        JACOB. We will, sir.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Looking at the stage] Just like a real theatre! See, there
+        we have the curtain, the foreground, the background, and all. No
+        artificial scenery is needed. The eye travels direct to the lake, and
+        rests on the horizon. The curtain will be raised as the moon rises at
+        half-past eight.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Splendid!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Of course the whole effect will be ruined if Nina is late.
+        She should be here by now, but her father and stepmother watch her so
+        closely that it is like stealing her from a prison to get her away from
+        home. [He straightens SORIN&rsquo;S collar] Your hair and beard are all on
+        end. Oughtn&rsquo;t you to have them trimmed?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Smoothing his beard] They are the tragedy of my existence. Even
+        when I was young I always looked as if I were drunk, and all. Women have
+        never liked me. [Sitting down] Why is my sister out of temper?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Why? Because she is jealous and bored. [Sitting down beside
+        SORIN] She is not acting this evening, but Nina is, and so she has set
+        herself against me, and against the performance of the play, and against
+        the play itself, which she hates without ever having read it.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Laughing] Does she, really?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Yes, she is furious because Nina is going to have a success
+        on this little stage. [Looking at his watch] My mother is a
+        psychological curiosity. Without doubt brilliant and talented, capable
+        of sobbing over a novel, of reciting all Nekrasoff&rsquo;s poetry by heart,
+        and of nursing the sick like an angel of heaven, you should see what
+        happens if any one begins praising Duse to her! She alone must be
+        praised and written about, raved over, her marvellous acting in &ldquo;La Dame
+        aux Camelias&rdquo; extolled to the skies. As she cannot get all that rubbish
+        in the country, she grows peevish and cross, and thinks we are all
+        against her, and to blame for it all. She is superstitious, too. She
+        dreads burning three candles, and fears the thirteenth day of the month.
+        Then she is stingy. I know for a fact that she has seventy thousand
+        roubles in a bank at Odessa, but she is ready to burst into tears if you
+        ask her to lend you a penny.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. You have taken it into your head that your mother dislikes your
+        play, and the thought of it has excited you, and all. Keep calm; your
+        mother adores you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Pulling a flower to pieces] She loves me, loves me not;
+        loves&mdash;loves me not; loves&mdash;loves me not! [Laughing] You see,
+        she doesn&rsquo;t love me, and why should she? She likes life and love and gay
+        clothes, and I am already twenty-five years old; a sufficient reminder
+        to her that she is no longer young. When I am away she is only
+        thirty-two, in my presence she is forty-three, and she hates me for it.
+        She knows, too, that I despise the modern stage. She adores it, and
+        imagines that she is working on it for the benefit of humanity and her
+        sacred art, but to me the theatre is merely the vehicle of convention
+        and prejudice. When the curtain rises on that little three-walled room,
+        when those mighty geniuses, those high-priests of art, show us people in
+        the act of eating, drinking, loving, walking, and wearing their coats,
+        and attempt to extract a moral from their insipid talk; when playwrights
+        give us under a thousand different guises the same, same, same old
+        stuff, then I must needs run from it, as Maupassant ran from the Eiffel
+        Tower that was about to crush him by its vulgarity.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. But we can&rsquo;t do without a theatre.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. No, but we must have it under a new form. If we can&rsquo;t do
+        that, let us rather not have it at all. [Looking at his watch] I love my
+        mother, I love her devotedly, but I think she leads a stupid life. She
+        always has this man of letters of hers on her mind, and the newspapers
+        are always frightening her to death, and I am tired of it. Plain, human
+        egoism sometimes speaks in my heart, and I regret that my mother is a
+        famous actress. If she were an ordinary woman I think I should be a
+        happier man. What could be more intolerable and foolish than my
+        position, Uncle, when I find myself the only nonentity among a crowd of
+        her guests, all celebrated authors and artists? I feel that they only
+        endure me because I am her son. Personally I am nothing, nobody. I
+        pulled through my third year at college by the skin of my teeth, as they
+        say. I have neither money nor brains, and on my passport you may read
+        that I am simply a citizen of Kiev. So was my father, but he was a
+        well-known actor. When the celebrities that frequent my mother&rsquo;s
+        drawing-room deign to notice me at all, I know they only look at me to
+        measure my insignificance; I read their thoughts, and suffer from
+        humiliation.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Tell me, by the way, what is Trigorin like? I can&rsquo;t understand
+        him, he is always so silent.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Trigorin is clever, simple, well-mannered, and a little, I
+        might say, melancholic in disposition. Though still under forty, he is
+        surfeited with praise. As for his stories, they are&mdash;how shall I
+        put it?&mdash;pleasing, full of talent, but if you have read Tolstoi or
+        Zola you somehow don&rsquo;t enjoy Trigorin.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Do you know, my boy, I like literary men. I once passionately
+        desired two things: to marry, and to become an author. I have succeeded
+        in neither. It must be pleasant to be even an insignificant author.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Listening] I hear footsteps! [He embraces his uncle] I
+        cannot live without her; even the sound of her footsteps is music to me.
+        I am madly happy. [He goes quickly to meet NINA, who comes in at that
+        moment] My enchantress! My girl of dreams!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Excitedly] It can&rsquo;t be that I am late? No, I am not late.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Kissing her hands] No, no, no!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I have been in a fever all day, I was so afraid my father would
+        prevent my coming, but he and my stepmother have just gone driving. The
+        sky is clear, the moon is rising. How I hurried to get here! How I urged
+        my horse to go faster and faster! [Laughing] I am <i>so</i> glad to see
+        you! [She shakes hands with SORIN.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Oho! Your eyes look as if you had been crying. You mustn&rsquo;t do
+        that.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. It is nothing, nothing. Do let us hurry. I must go in half an
+        hour. No, no, for heaven&rsquo;s sake do not urge me to stay. My father
+        doesn&rsquo;t know I am here.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. As a matter of fact, it is time to begin now. I must call the
+        audience.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Let me call them&mdash;and all&mdash;I am going this minute. [He
+        goes toward the right, begins to sing &ldquo;The Two Grenadiers,&rdquo; then stops.]
+        I was singing that once when a fellow-lawyer said to me: &ldquo;You have a
+        powerful voice, sir.&rdquo; Then he thought a moment and added, &ldquo;But it is a
+        disagreeable one!&rdquo; [He goes out laughing.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. My father and his wife never will let me come here; they call this
+        place Bohemia and are afraid I shall become an actress. But this lake
+        attracts me as it does the gulls. My heart is full of you. [She glances
+        about her.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. We are alone.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Isn&rsquo;t that some one over there?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. No. [They kiss one another.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. What is that tree?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. An elm.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Why does it look so dark?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. It is evening; everything looks dark now. Don&rsquo;t go away
+        early, I implore you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I must.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. What if I were to follow you, Nina? I shall stand in your
+        garden all night with my eyes on your window.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. That would be impossible; the watchman would see you, and Treasure
+        is not used to you yet, and would bark.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I love you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Hush!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Listening to approaching footsteps] Who is that? Is it you,
+        Jacob?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        JACOB. [On the stage] Yes, sir.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. To your places then. The moon is rising; the play must
+        commence.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Yes, sir.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Is the alcohol ready? Is the sulphur ready? There must be
+        fumes of sulphur in the air when the red eyes shine out. [To NINA] Go,
+        now, everything is ready. Are you nervous?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Yes, very. I am not so much afraid of your mother as I am of
+        Trigorin. I am terrified and ashamed to act before him; he is so famous.
+        Is he young?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Yes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. What beautiful stories he writes!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Coldly] I have never read any of them, so I can&rsquo;t say.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Your play is very hard to act; there are no living characters in
+        it.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Living characters! Life must be represented not as it is, but
+        as it ought to be; as it appears in dreams.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. There is so little action; it seems more like a recitation. I
+        think love should always come into every play.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA and TREPLIEFF go up onto the little stage; PAULINA and DORN come
+        in.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. It is getting damp. Go back and put on your goloshes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. I am quite warm.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. You never will take care of yourself; you are quite obstinate
+        about it, and yet you are a doctor, and know quite well that damp air is
+        bad for you. You like to see me suffer, that&rsquo;s what it is. You sat out
+        on the terrace all yesterday evening on purpose.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Sings]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        &ldquo;Oh, tell me not that youth is wasted.&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. You were so enchanted by the conversation of Madame Arkadina
+        that you did not even notice the cold. Confess that you admire her.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. I am fifty-five years old.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. A trifle. That is not old for a man. You have kept your looks
+        magnificently, and women still like you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. What are you trying to tell me?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. You men are all ready to go down on your knees to an actress,
+        all of you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Sings]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        &ldquo;Once more I stand before thee.&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        It is only right that artists should be made much of by society and
+        treated differently from, let us say, merchants. It is a kind of
+        idealism.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. When women have loved you and thrown themselves at your head,
+        has that been idealism?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Shrugging his shoulders] I can&rsquo;t say. There has been a great deal
+        that was admirable in my relations with women. In me they liked, above
+        all, the superior doctor. Ten years ago, you remember, I was the only
+        decent doctor they had in this part of the country&mdash;and then, I
+        have always acted like a man of honour.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. [Seizes his hand] Dearest!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Be quiet! Here they come.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA comes in on SORIN&rsquo;S arm; also TRIGORIN, SHAMRAEFF, MEDVIEDENKO,
+        and MASHA.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. She acted most beautifully at the Poltava Fair in 1873; she
+        was really magnificent. But tell me, too, where Tchadin the comedian is
+        now? He was inimitable as Rasplueff, better than Sadofski. Where is he
+        now?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Don&rsquo;t ask me where all those antediluvians are! I know nothing
+        about them. [She sits down.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. [Sighing] Pashka Tchadin! There are none left like him. The
+        stage is not what it was in his time. There were sturdy oaks growing on
+        it then, where now but stumps remain.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. It is true that we have few dazzling geniuses these days, but, on
+        the other hand, the average of acting is much higher.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. I cannot agree with you; however, that is a matter of taste,
+        <i>de gustibus.</i>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        Enter TREPLIEFF from behind the stage.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. When will the play begin, my dear boy?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. In a moment. I must ask you to have patience.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Quoting from Hamlet] My son,
+      </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Thou turn&rsquo;st mine eyes into my very soul;
+     And there I see such black grained spots
+     As will not leave their tinct.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+      <p>
+        [A horn is blown behind the stage.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Attention, ladies and gentlemen! The play is about to begin.
+        [A pause] I shall commence. [He taps the door with a stick, and speaks
+        in a loud voice] O, ye time-honoured, ancient mists that drive at night
+        across the surface of this lake, blind you our eyes with sleep, and show
+        us in our dreams that which will be in twice ten thousand years!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. There won&rsquo;t be anything in twice ten thousand years.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Then let them now show us that nothingness.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Yes, let them&mdash;we are asleep.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        The curtain rises. A vista opens across the lake. The moon hangs low
+        above the horizon and is reflected in the water. NINA, dressed in white,
+        is seen seated on a great rock.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. All men and beasts, lions, eagles, and quails, horned stags,
+        geese, spiders, silent fish that inhabit the waves, starfish from the
+        sea, and creatures invisible to the eye&mdash;in one word, life&mdash;all,
+        all life, completing the dreary round imposed upon it, has died out at
+        last. A thousand years have passed since the earth last bore a living
+        creature on her breast, and the unhappy moon now lights her lamp in
+        vain. No longer are the cries of storks heard in the meadows, or the
+        drone of beetles in the groves of limes. All is cold, cold. All is void,
+        void, void. All is terrible, terrible&mdash;[A pause] The bodies of all
+        living creatures have dropped to dust, and eternal matter has
+        transformed them into stones and water and clouds; but their spirits
+        have flowed together into one, and that great world-soul am I! In me is
+        the spirit of the great Alexander, the spirit of Napoleon, of Caesar, of
+        Shakespeare, and of the tiniest leech that swims. In me the
+        consciousness of man has joined hands with the instinct of the animal; I
+        understand all, all, all, and each life lives again in me.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        [The will-o-the-wisps flicker out along the lake shore.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Whispers] What decadent rubbish is this?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Imploringly] Mother!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I am alone. Once in a hundred years my lips are opened, my voice
+        echoes mournfully across the desert earth, and no one hears. And you,
+        poor lights of the marsh, you do not hear me. You are engendered at
+        sunset in the putrid mud, and flit wavering about the lake till dawn,
+        unconscious, unreasoning, unwarmed by the breath of life. Satan, father
+        of eternal matter, trembling lest the spark of life should glow in you,
+        has ordered an unceasing movement of the atoms that compose you, and so
+        you shift and change for ever. I, the spirit of the universe, I alone am
+        immutable and eternal. [A pause] Like a captive in a dungeon deep and
+        void, I know not where I am, nor what awaits me. One thing only is not
+        hidden from me: in my fierce and obstinate battle with Satan, the source
+        of the forces of matter, I am destined to be victorious in the end.
+        Matter and spirit will then be one at last in glorious harmony, and the
+        reign of freedom will begin on earth. But this can only come to pass by
+        slow degrees, when after countless eons the moon and earth and shining
+        Sirius himself shall fall to dust. Until that hour, oh, horror! horror!
+        horror! [A pause. Two glowing red points are seen shining across the
+        lake] Satan, my mighty foe, advances; I see his dread and lurid eyes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I smell sulphur. Is that done on purpose?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Yes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Oh, I see; that is part of the effect.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Mother!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. He longs for man&mdash;
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. [To DORN] You have taken off your hat again! Put it on, you
+        will catch cold.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. The doctor has taken off his hat to Satan father of eternal
+        matter&mdash;
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Loudly and angrily] Enough of this! There&rsquo;s an end to the
+        performance. Down with the curtain!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Why, what are you so angry about?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Stamping his foot] The curtain; down with it! [The curtain
+        falls] Excuse me, I forgot that only a chosen few might write plays or
+        act them. I have infringed the monopoly. I&mdash;I&mdash;-
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        He would like to say more, but waves his hand instead, and goes out to
+        the left.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. What is the matter with him?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. You should not handle youthful egoism so roughly, sister.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. What did I say to him?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. You hurt his feelings.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. But he told me himself that this was all in fun, so I treated
+        his play as if it were a comedy.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Nevertheless&mdash;-
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Now it appears that he has produced a masterpiece, if you
+        please! I suppose it was not meant to amuse us at all, but that he
+        arranged the performance and fumigated us with sulphur to demonstrate to
+        us how plays should be written, and what is worth acting. I am tired of
+        him. No one could stand his constant thrusts and sallies. He is a
+        wilful, egotistic boy.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. He had hoped to give you pleasure.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Is that so? I notice, though, that he did not choose an
+        ordinary play, but forced his decadent trash on us. I am willing to
+        listen to any raving, so long as it is not meant seriously, but in
+        showing us this, he pretended to be introducing us to a new form of art,
+        and inaugurating a new era. In my opinion, there was nothing new about
+        it, it was simply an exhibition of bad temper.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Everybody must write as he feels, and as best he may.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Let him write as he feels and can, but let him spare me his
+        nonsense.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Thou art angry, O Jove!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I am a woman, not Jove. [She lights a cigarette] And I am not
+        angry, I am only sorry to see a young man foolishly wasting his time. I
+        did not mean to hurt him.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. No one has any ground for separating life from matter, as
+        the spirit may well consist of the union of material atoms. [Excitedly,
+        to TRIGORIN] Some day you should write a play, and put on the stage the
+        life of a schoolmaster. It is a hard, hard life.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I agree with you, but do not let us talk about plays or atoms
+        now. This is such a lovely evening. Listen to the singing, friends, how
+        sweet it sounds.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. Yes, they are singing across the water. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] Sit down beside me here. Ten or fifteen years
+        ago we had music and singing on this lake almost all night. There are
+        six houses on its shores. All was noise and laughter and romance then,
+        such romance! The young star and idol of them all in those days was this
+        man here, [Nods toward DORN] Doctor Eugene Dorn. He is fascinating now,
+        but he was irresistible then. But my conscience is beginning to prick
+        me. Why did I hurt my poor boy? I am uneasy about him. [Loudly]
+        Constantine! Constantine!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Shall I go and find him?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. If you please, my dear.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [Goes off to the left, calling] Mr. Constantine! Oh, Mr.
+        Constantine!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Comes in from behind the stage] I see that the play will never be
+        finished, so now I can go home. Good evening. [She kisses ARKADINA and
+        PAULINA.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Bravo! Bravo!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Bravo! Bravo! We were quite charmed by your acting. With your
+        looks and such a lovely voice it is a crime for you to hide yourself in
+        the country. You must be very talented. It is your duty to go on the
+        stage, do you hear me?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. It is the dream of my life, which will never come true.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Who knows? Perhaps it will. But let me present Monsieur Boris
+        Trigorin.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I am delighted to meet you. [Embarrassed] I have read all your
+        books.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Drawing NINA down beside her] Don&rsquo;t be afraid of him, dear.
+        He is a simple, good-natured soul, even if he is a celebrity. See, he is
+        embarrassed himself.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Couldn&rsquo;t the curtain be raised now? It is depressing to have it
+        down.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. [Loudly] Jacob, my man! Raise the curtain!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [To TRIGORIN] It was a curious play, wasn&rsquo;t it?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Very. I couldn&rsquo;t understand it at all, but I watched it with
+        the greatest pleasure because you acted with such sincerity, and the
+        setting was beautiful. [A pause] There must be a lot of fish in this
+        lake.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Yes, there are.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. I love fishing. I know of nothing pleasanter than to sit on a
+        lake shore in the evening with one&rsquo;s eyes on a floating cork.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Why, I should think that for one who has tasted the joys of
+        creation, no other pleasure could exist.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Don&rsquo;t talk like that. He always begins to flounder when people
+        say nice things to him.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. I remember when the famous Silva was singing once in the
+        Opera House at Moscow, how delighted we all were when he took the low C.
+        Well, you can imagine our astonishment when one of the church cantors,
+        who happened to be sitting in the gallery, suddenly boomed out: &ldquo;Bravo,
+        Silva!&rdquo; a whole octave lower. Like this: [In a deep bass voice] &ldquo;Bravo,
+        Silva!&rdquo; The audience was left breathless. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. An angel of silence is flying over our heads.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I must go. Good-bye.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Where to? Where must you go so early? We shan&rsquo;t allow it.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. My father is waiting for me.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. How cruel he is, really. [They kiss each other] Then I suppose
+        we can&rsquo;t keep you, but it is very hard indeed to let you go.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. If you only knew how hard it is for me to leave you all.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Somebody must see you home, my pet.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Startled] No, no!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Imploringly] Don&rsquo;t go!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I must.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Stay just one hour more, and all. Come now, really, you know.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Struggling against her desire to stay; through her tears] No, no,
+        I can&rsquo;t. [She shakes hands with him and quickly goes out.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. An unlucky girl! They say that her mother left the whole of an
+        immense fortune to her husband, and now the child is penniless because
+        the father has already willed everything away to his second wife. It is
+        pitiful.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Yes, her papa is a perfect beast, and I don&rsquo;t mind saying so&mdash;it
+        is what he deserves.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Rubbing his chilled hands] Come, let us go in; the night is
+        damp, and my legs are aching.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Yes, you act as if they were turned to stone; you can hardly
+        move them. Come, you unfortunate old man. [She takes his arm.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. [Offering his arm to his wife] Permit me, madame.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. I hear that dog howling again. Won&rsquo;t you please have it
+        unchained, Shamraeff?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. No, I really can&rsquo;t, sir. The granary is full of millet, and I
+        am afraid thieves might break in if the dog were not there. [Walking
+        beside MEDVIEDENKO] Yes, a whole octave lower: &ldquo;Bravo, Silva!&rdquo; and he
+        wasn&rsquo;t a singer either, just a simple church cantor.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. What salary does the church pay its singers? [All go out
+        except DORN.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. I may have lost my judgment and my wits, but I must confess I
+        liked that play. There was something in it. When the girl spoke of her
+        solitude and the Devil&rsquo;s eyes gleamed across the lake, I felt my hands
+        shaking with excitement. It was so fresh and naive. But here he comes;
+        let me say something pleasant to him.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF comes in.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. All gone already?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. I am here.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Masha has been yelling for me all over the park. An
+        insufferable creature.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Constantine, your play delighted me. It was strange, of course,
+        and I did not hear the end, but it made a deep impression on me. You
+        have a great deal of talent, and must persevere in your work.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF seizes his hand and squeezes it hard, then kisses him
+        impetuously.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Tut, tut! how excited you are. Your eyes are full of tears. Listen
+        to me. You chose your subject in the realm of abstract thought, and you
+        did quite right. A work of art should invariably embody some lofty idea.
+        Only that which is seriously meant can ever be beautiful. How pale you
+        are!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. So you advise me to persevere?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Yes, but use your talent to express only deep and eternal truths.
+        I have led a quiet life, as you know, and am a contented man, but if I
+        should ever experience the exaltation that an artist feels during his
+        moments of creation, I think I should spurn this material envelope of my
+        soul and everything connected with it, and should soar away into heights
+        above this earth.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I beg your pardon, but where is Nina?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. And yet another thing: every work of art should have a definite
+        object in view. You should know why you are writing, for if you follow
+        the road of art without a goal before your eyes, you will lose yourself,
+        and your genius will be your ruin.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Impetuously] Where is Nina?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. She has gone home.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [In despair] Gone home? What shall I do? I want to see her; I
+        must see her! I shall follow her.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. My dear boy, keep quiet.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I am going. I must go.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA comes in.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Your mother wants you to come in, Mr. Constantine. She is waiting
+        for you, and is very uneasy.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Tell her I have gone away. And for heaven&rsquo;s sake, all of you,
+        leave me alone! Go away! Don&rsquo;t follow me about!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Come, come, old chap, don&rsquo;t act like this; it isn&rsquo;t kind at all.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Through his tears] Good-bye, doctor, and thank you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF goes out.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Sighing] Ah, youth, youth!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. It is always &ldquo;Youth, youth,&rdquo; when there is nothing else to be
+        said.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        She takes snuff. DORN takes the snuff-box out of her hands and flings it
+        into the bushes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Don&rsquo;t do that, it is horrid. [A pause] I hear music in the house.
+        I must go in.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Wait a moment.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. What do you want?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Let me tell you again. I feel like talking. [She grows more and
+        more excited] I do not love my father, but my heart turns to you. For
+        some reason, I feel with all my soul that you are near to me. Help me!
+        Help me, or I shall do something foolish and mock at my life, and ruin
+        it. I am at the end of my strength.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. What is the matter? How can I help you?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. I am in agony. No one, no one can imagine how I suffer. [She lays
+        her head on his shoulder and speaks softly] I love Constantine.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Oh, how excitable you all are! And how much love there is about
+        this lake of spells! [Tenderly] But what can I do for you, my child?
+        What? What?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        The curtain falls.
+      </p>
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      ACT II
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <i>The lawn in front of SORIN&rsquo;S house. The house stands in the background,
+      on a broad terrace. The lake, brightly reflecting the rays of the sun,
+      lies to the left. There are flower-beds here and there. It is noon; the
+      day is hot. ARKADINA, DORN, and MASHA are sitting on a bench on the lawn,
+      in the shade of an old linden. An open book is lying on DORN&rsquo;S knees</i>.
+    </p>
+    <div style="margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;">
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [To MASHA] Come, get up. [They both get up] Stand beside me.
+        You are twenty-two and I am almost twice your age. Tell me, Doctor,
+        which of us is the younger looking?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. You are, of course.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. You see! Now why is it? Because I work; my heart and mind are
+        always busy, whereas you never move off the same spot. You don&rsquo;t live.
+        It is a maxim of mine never to look into the future. I never admit the
+        thought of old age or death, and just accept what comes to me.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. I feel as if I had been in the world a thousand years, and I
+        trail my life behind me like an endless scarf. Often I have no desire to
+        live at all. Of course that is foolish. One ought to pull oneself
+        together and shake off such nonsense.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Sings softly]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        &ldquo;Tell her, oh flowers&mdash;&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. And then I keep myself as correct-looking as an Englishman. I
+        am always well-groomed, as the saying is, and carefully dressed, with my
+        hair neatly arranged. Do you think I should ever permit myself to leave
+        the house half-dressed, with untidy hair? Certainly not! I have kept my
+        looks by never letting myself slump as some women do. [She puts her arms
+        akimbo, and walks up and down on the lawn] See me, tripping on tiptoe
+        like a fifteen-year-old girl.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. I see. Nevertheless, I shall continue my reading. [He takes up his
+        book] Let me see, we had come to the grain-dealer and the rats.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. And the rats. Go on. [She sits down] No, give me the book, it
+        is my turn to read. [She takes the book and looks for the place] And the
+        rats. Ah, here it is. [She reads] &ldquo;It is as dangerous for society to
+        attract and indulge authors as it is for grain-dealers to raise rats in
+        their granaries. Yet society loves authors. And so, when a woman has
+        found one whom she wishes to make her own, she lays siege to him by
+        indulging and flattering him.&rdquo; That may be so in France, but it
+        certainly is not so in Russia. We do not carry out a programme like
+        that. With us, a woman is usually head over ears in love with an author
+        before she attempts to lay siege to him. You have an example before your
+        eyes, in me and Trigorin.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN comes in leaning on a cane, with NINA beside him. MEDVIEDENKO
+        follows, pushing an arm-chair.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [In a caressing voice, as if speaking to a child] So we are happy
+        now, eh? We are enjoying ourselves to-day, are we? Father and stepmother
+        have gone away to Tver, and we are free for three whole days!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Sits down beside ARKADINA, and embraces her] I am so happy. I
+        belong to you now.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Sits down in his arm-chair] She looks lovely to-day.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Yes, she has put on her prettiest dress, and looks sweet. That
+        was nice of you. [She kisses NINA] But we mustn&rsquo;t praise her too much;
+        we shall spoil her. Where is Trigorin?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. He is fishing off the wharf.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I wonder he isn&rsquo;t bored. [She begins to read again.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. What are you reading?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. &ldquo;On the Water,&rdquo; by Maupassant. [She reads a few lines to
+        herself] But the rest is neither true nor interesting. [She lays down
+        the book] I am uneasy about my son. Tell me, what is the matter with
+        him? Why is he so dull and depressed lately? He spends all his days on
+        the lake, and I scarcely ever see him any more.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. His heart is heavy. [Timidly, to NINA] Please recite something
+        from his play.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Shrugging her shoulders] Shall I? Is it so interesting?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [With suppressed rapture] When he recites, his eyes shine and his
+        face grows pale. His voice is beautiful and sad, and he has the ways of
+        a poet.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN begins to snore.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Pleasant dreams!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Peter!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Eh?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Are you asleep?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Not a bit of it. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. You don&rsquo;t do a thing for your health, brother, but you really
+        ought to.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. The idea of doing anything for one&rsquo;s health at sixty-five!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. One still wants to live at sixty-five.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Crossly] Ho! Take some camomile tea.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I think a journey to some watering-place would be good for
+        him.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Why, yes; he might go as well as not.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. You don&rsquo;t understand.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. There is nothing to understand in this case; it is quite clear.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. He ought to give up smoking.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. What nonsense! [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. No, that is not nonsense. Wine and tobacco destroy the
+        individuality. After a cigar or a glass of vodka you are no longer Peter
+        Sorin, but Peter Sorin plus somebody else. Your ego breaks in two: you
+        begin to think of yourself in the third person.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. It is easy for you to condemn smoking and drinking; you have
+        known what life is, but what about me? I have served in the Department
+        of Justice for twenty-eight years, but I have never lived, I have never
+        had any experiences. You are satiated with life, and that is why you
+        have an inclination for philosophy, but I want to live, and that is why
+        I drink my wine for dinner and smoke cigars, and all.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. One must take life seriously, and to take a cure at sixty-five and
+        regret that one did not have more pleasure in youth is, forgive my
+        saying so, trifling.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. It must be lunch-time. [She walks away languidly, with a dragging
+        step] My foot has gone to sleep.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. She is going to have a couple of drinks before lunch.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. The poor soul is unhappy.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. That is a trifle, your honour.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. You judge her like a man who has obtained all he wants in life.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Oh, what could be duller than this dear tedium of the country?
+        The air is hot and still, nobody does anything but sit and philosophise
+        about life. It is pleasant, my friends, to sit and listen to you here,
+        but I had rather a thousand times sit alone in the room of a hotel
+        learning a role by heart.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [With enthusiasm] You are quite right. I understand how you feel.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Of course it is pleasanter to live in town. One can sit in one&rsquo;s
+        library with a telephone at one&rsquo;s elbow, no one comes in without being
+        first announced by the footman, the streets are full of cabs, and all&mdash;-
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Sings]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        &ldquo;Tell her, oh flowers&mdash;-&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF comes in, followed by PAULINA.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. Here they are. How do you do? [He kisses ARKADINA&rsquo;S hand and
+        then NINA&rsquo;S] I am delighted to see you looking so well. [To ARKADINA] My
+        wife tells me that you mean to go to town with her to-day. Is that so?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Yes, that is what I had planned to do.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. Hm&mdash;that is splendid, but how do you intend to get
+        there, madam? We are hauling rye to-day, and all the men are busy. What
+        horses would you take?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. What horses? How do I know what horses we shall have?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Why, we have the carriage horses.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. The carriage horses! And where am I to find the harness for
+        them? This is astonishing! My dear madam, I have the greatest respect
+        for your talents, and would gladly sacrifice ten years of my life for
+        you, but I cannot let you have any horses to-day.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. But if I must go to town? What an extraordinary state of
+        affairs!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. You do not know, madam, what it is to run a farm.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [In a burst of anger] That is an old story! Under these
+        circumstances I shall go back to Moscow this very day. Order a carriage
+        for me from the village, or I shall go to the station on foot.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. [losing his temper] Under these circumstances I resign my
+        position. You must find yourself another manager. [He goes out.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. It is like this every summer: every summer I am insulted here.
+        I shall never set foot here again.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        She goes out to the left, in the direction of the wharf. In a few
+        minutes she is seen entering the house, followed by TRIGORIN, who
+        carries a bucket and fishing-rod.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Losing his temper] What the deuce did he mean by his impudence?
+        I want all the horses brought here at once!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [To PAULINA] How could he refuse anything to Madame Arkadina, the
+        famous actress? Is not every wish, every caprice even, of hers, more
+        important than any farm work? This is incredible.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. [In despair] What can I do about it? Put yourself in my place
+        and tell me what I can do.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [To NINA] Let us go and find my sister, and all beg her not to
+        go. [He looks in the direction in which SHAMRAEFF went out] That man is
+        insufferable; a regular tyrant.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Preventing him from getting up] Sit still, sit still, and let us
+        wheel you. [She and MEDVIEDENKO push the chair before them] This is
+        terrible!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Yes, yes, it is terrible; but he won&rsquo;t leave. I shall have a talk
+        with him in a moment. [They go out. Only DORN and PAULINA are left.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. How tiresome people are! Your husband deserves to be thrown out of
+        here neck and crop, but it will all end by this old granny Sorin and his
+        sister asking the man&rsquo;s pardon. See if it doesn&rsquo;t.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. He has sent the carriage horses into the fields too. These
+        misunderstandings occur every day. If you only knew how they excite me!
+        I am ill; see! I am trembling all over! I cannot endure his rough ways.
+        [Imploringly] Eugene, my darling, my beloved, take me to you. Our time
+        is short; we are no longer young; let us end deception and concealment,
+        even though it is only at the end of our lives. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. I am fifty-five years old. It is too late now for me to change my
+        ways of living.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. I know that you refuse me because there are other women who are
+        near to you, and you cannot take everybody. I understand. Excuse me&mdash;I
+        see I am only bothering you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA is seen near the house picking a bunch of flowers.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. No, it is all right.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. I am tortured by jealousy. Of course you are a doctor and
+        cannot escape from women. I understand.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [TO NINA, who comes toward him] How are things in there?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Madame Arkadina is crying, and Sorin is having an attack of
+        asthma.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Let us go and give them both some camomile tea.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Hands him the bunch of flowers] Here are some flowers for you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Thank you. [He goes into the house.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. [Following him] What pretty flowers! [As they reach the house
+        she says in a low voice] Give me those flowers! Give them to me!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN hands her the flowers; she tears them to pieces and flings them
+        away. They both go into the house.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Alone] How strange to see a famous actress weeping, and for such
+        a trifle! Is it not strange, too, that a famous author should sit
+        fishing all day? He is the idol of the public, the papers are full of
+        him, his photograph is for sale everywhere, his works have been
+        translated into many foreign languages, and yet he is overjoyed if he
+        catches a couple of minnows. I always thought famous people were distant
+        and proud; I thought they despised the common crowd which exalts riches
+        and birth, and avenged themselves on it by dazzling it with the
+        inextinguishable honour and glory of their fame. But here I see them
+        weeping and playing cards and flying into passions like everybody else.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF comes in without a hat on, carrying a gun and a dead seagull.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Are you alone here?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Yes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF lays the sea-gull at her feet.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. What do you mean by this?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I was base enough to-day to kill this gull. I lay it at your
+        feet.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. What is happening to you? [She picks up the gull and stands
+        looking at it.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [After a pause] So shall I soon end my own life.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. You have changed so that I fail to recognise you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Yes, I have changed since the time when I ceased to recognise
+        you. You have failed me; your look is cold; you do not like to have me
+        near you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. You have grown so irritable lately, and you talk so darkly and
+        symbolically that you must forgive me if I fail to follow you. I am too
+        simple to understand you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. All this began when my play failed so dismally. A woman never
+        can forgive failure. I have burnt the manuscript to the last page. Oh,
+        if you could only fathom my unhappiness! Your estrangement is to me
+        terrible, incredible; it is as if I had suddenly waked to find this lake
+        dried up and sunk into the earth. You say you are too simple to
+        understand me; but, oh, what is there to understand? You disliked my
+        play, you have no faith in my powers, you already think of me as
+        commonplace and worthless, as many are. [Stamping his foot] How well I
+        can understand your feelings! And that understanding is to me like a
+        dagger in the brain. May it be accursed, together with my stupidity,
+        which sucks my life-blood like a snake! [He sees TRIGORIN, who
+        approaches reading a book] There comes real genius, striding along like
+        another Hamlet, and with a book, too. [Mockingly] &ldquo;Words, words, words.&rdquo;
+         You feel the warmth of that sun already, you smile, your eyes melt and
+        glow liquid in its rays. I shall not disturb you. [He goes out.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [Making notes in his book] Takes snuff and drinks vodka;
+        always wears black dresses; is loved by a schoolteacher&mdash;
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. How do you do?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. How are you, Miss Nina? Owing to an unforeseen development of
+        circumstances, it seems that we are leaving here today. You and I shall
+        probably never see each other again, and I am sorry for it. I seldom
+        meet a young and pretty girl now; I can hardly remember how it feels to
+        be nineteen, and the young girls in my books are seldom living
+        characters. I should like to change places with you, if but for an hour,
+        to look out at the world through your eyes, and so find out what sort of
+        a little person you are.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. And I should like to change places with you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Why?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. To find out how a famous genius feels. What is it like to be
+        famous? What sensations does it give you?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. What sensations? I don&rsquo;t believe it gives any. [Thoughtfully]
+        Either you exaggerate my fame, or else, if it exists, all I can say is
+        that one simply doesn&rsquo;t feel fame in any way.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. But when you read about yourself in the papers?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. If the critics praise me, I am happy; if they condemn me, I am
+        out of sorts for the next two days.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. This is a wonderful world. If you only knew how I envy you! Men
+        are born to different destinies. Some dully drag a weary, useless life
+        behind them, lost in the crowd, unhappy, while to one out of a million,
+        as to you, for instance, comes a bright destiny full of interest and
+        meaning. You are lucky.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. I, lucky? [He shrugs his shoulders] H-m&mdash;I hear you
+        talking about fame, and happiness, and bright destinies, and those fine
+        words of yours mean as much to me&mdash;forgive my saying so&mdash;as
+        sweetmeats do, which I never eat. You are very young, and very kind.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Your life is beautiful.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. I see nothing especially lovely about it. [He looks at his
+        watch] Excuse me, I must go at once, and begin writing again. I am in a
+        hurry. [He laughs] You have stepped on my pet corn, as they say, and I
+        am getting excited, and a little cross. Let us discuss this bright and
+        beautiful life of mine, though. [After a few moments&rsquo; thought] Violent
+        obsessions sometimes lay hold of a man: he may, for instance, think day
+        and night of nothing but the moon. I have such a moon. Day and night I
+        am held in the grip of one besetting thought, to write, write, write!
+        Hardly have I finished one book than something urges me to write
+        another, and then a third, and then a fourth&mdash;I write ceaselessly.
+        I am, as it were, on a treadmill. I hurry for ever from one story to
+        another, and can&rsquo;t help myself. Do you see anything bright and beautiful
+        in that? Oh, it is a wild life! Even now, thrilled as I am by talking to
+        you, I do not forget for an instant that an unfinished story is awaiting
+        me. My eye falls on that cloud there, which has the shape of a grand
+        piano; I instantly make a mental note that I must remember to mention in
+        my story a cloud floating by that looked like a grand piano. I smell
+        heliotrope; I mutter to myself: a sickly smell, the colour worn by
+        widows; I must remember that in writing my next description of a summer
+        evening. I catch an idea in every sentence of yours or of my own, and
+        hasten to lock all these treasures in my literary store-room, thinking
+        that some day they may be useful to me. As soon as I stop working I rush
+        off to the theatre or go fishing, in the hope that I may find oblivion
+        there, but no! Some new subject for a story is sure to come rolling
+        through my brain like an iron cannonball. I hear my desk calling, and
+        have to go back to it and begin to write, write, write, once more. And
+        so it goes for everlasting. I cannot escape myself, though I feel that I
+        am consuming my life. To prepare the honey I feed to unknown crowds, I
+        am doomed to brush the bloom from my dearest flowers, to tear them from
+        their stems, and trample the roots that bore them under foot. Am I not a
+        madman? Should I not be treated by those who know me as one mentally
+        diseased? Yet it is always the same, same old story, till I begin to
+        think that all this praise and admiration must be a deception, that I am
+        being hoodwinked because they know I am crazy, and I sometimes tremble
+        lest I should be grabbed from behind and whisked off to a lunatic
+        asylum. The best years of my youth were made one continual agony for me
+        by my writing. A young author, especially if at first he does not make a
+        success, feels clumsy, ill-at-ease, and superfluous in the world. His
+        nerves are all on edge and stretched to the point of breaking; he is
+        irresistibly attracted to literary and artistic people, and hovers about
+        them unknown and unnoticed, fearing to look them bravely in the eye,
+        like a man with a passion for gambling, whose money is all gone. I did
+        not know my readers, but for some reason I imagined they were
+        distrustful and unfriendly; I was mortally afraid of the public, and
+        when my first play appeared, it seemed to me as if all the dark eyes in
+        the audience were looking at it with enmity, and all the blue ones with
+        cold indifference. Oh, how terrible it was! What agony!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. But don&rsquo;t your inspiration and the act of creation give you
+        moments of lofty happiness?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Yes. Writing is a pleasure to me, and so is reading the
+        proofs, but no sooner does a book leave the press than it becomes odious
+        to me; it is not what I meant it to be; I made a mistake to write it at
+        all; I am provoked and discouraged. Then the public reads it and says:
+        &ldquo;Yes, it is clever and pretty, but not nearly as good as Tolstoi,&rdquo; or
+        &ldquo;It is a lovely thing, but not as good as Turgenieff&rsquo;s &lsquo;Fathers and
+        Sons,&rsquo;&rdquo; and so it will always be. To my dying day I shall hear people
+        say: &ldquo;Clever and pretty; clever and pretty,&rdquo; and nothing more; and when
+        I am gone, those that knew me will say as they pass my grave: &ldquo;Here lies
+        Trigorin, a clever writer, but he was not as good as Turgenieff.&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. You must excuse me, but I decline to understand what you are
+        talking about. The fact is, you have been spoilt by your success.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. What success have I had? I have never pleased myself; as a
+        writer, I do not like myself at all. The trouble is that I am made
+        giddy, as it were, by the fumes of my brain, and often hardly know what
+        I am writing. I love this lake, these trees, the blue heaven; nature&rsquo;s
+        voice speaks to me and wakes a feeling of passion in my heart, and I am
+        overcome by an uncontrollable desire to write. But I am not only a
+        painter of landscapes, I am a man of the city besides. I love my
+        country, too, and her people; I feel that, as a writer, it is my duty to
+        speak of their sorrows, of their future, also of science, of the rights
+        of man, and so forth. So I write on every subject, and the public hounds
+        me on all sides, sometimes in anger, and I race and dodge like a fox
+        with a pack of hounds on his trail. I see life and knowledge flitting
+        away before me. I am left behind them like a peasant who has missed his
+        train at a station, and finally I come back to the conclusion that all I
+        am fit for is to describe landscapes, and that whatever else I attempt
+        rings abominably false.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. You work too hard to realise the importance of your writings. What
+        if you are discontented with yourself? To others you appear a great and
+        splendid man. If I were a writer like you I should devote my whole life
+        to the service of the Russian people, knowing at the same time that
+        their welfare depended on their power to rise to the heights I had
+        attained, and the people should send me before them in a chariot of
+        triumph.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. In a chariot? Do you think I am Agamemnon? [They both smile.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. For the bliss of being a writer or an actress I could endure want,
+        and disillusionment, and the hatred of my friends, and the pangs of my
+        own dissatisfaction with myself; but I should demand in return fame,
+        real, resounding fame! [She covers her face with her hands] Whew! My
+        head reels!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        THE VOICE OF ARKADINA. [From inside the house] Boris! Boris!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. She is calling me, probably to come and pack, but I don&rsquo;t want
+        to leave this place. [His eyes rest on the lake] What a blessing such
+        beauty is!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Do you see that house there, on the far shore?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Yes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. That was my dead mother&rsquo;s home. I was born there, and have lived
+        all my life beside this lake. I know every little island in it.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. This is a beautiful place to live. [He catches sight of the
+        dead sea-gull] What is that?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. A gull. Constantine shot it.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. What a lovely bird! Really, I can&rsquo;t bear to go away. Can&rsquo;t you
+        persuade Irina to stay? [He writes something in his note-book.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. What are you writing?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Nothing much, only an idea that occurred to me. [He puts the
+        book back in his pocket] An idea for a short story. A young girl grows
+        up on the shores of a lake, as you have. She loves the lake as the gulls
+        do, and is as happy and free as they. But a man sees her who chances to
+        come that way, and he destroys her out of idleness, as this gull here
+        has been destroyed. [A pause. ARKADINA appears at one of the windows.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Boris! Where are you?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. I am coming this minute.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        He goes toward the house, looking back at NINA. ARKADINA remains at the
+        window.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. What do you want?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. We are not going away, after all.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN goes into the house. NINA comes forward and stands lost in
+        thought.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. It is a dream!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        The curtain falls.
+      </p>
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      ACT III
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <i>The dining-room of SORIN&rsquo;S house. Doors open out of it to the right and
+      left. A table stands in the centre of the room. Trunks and boxes encumber
+      the floor, and preparations for departure are evident. TRIGORIN is sitting
+      at a table eating his breakfast, and MASHA is standing beside him</i>.
+    </p>
+    <div style="margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;">
+      <p>
+        MASHA. I am telling you all these things because you write books and
+        they may be useful to you. I tell you honestly, I should not have lived
+        another day if he had wounded himself fatally. Yet I am courageous; I
+        have decided to tear this love of mine out of my heart by the roots.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. How will you do it?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. By marrying Medviedenko.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. The school-teacher?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Yes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. I don&rsquo;t see the necessity for that.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Oh, if you knew what it is to love without hope for years and
+        years, to wait for ever for something that will never come! I shall not
+        marry for love, but marriage will at least be a change, and will bring
+        new cares to deaden the memories of the past. Shall we have another
+        drink?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Haven&rsquo;t you had enough?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Fiddlesticks! [She fills a glass] Don&rsquo;t look at me with that
+        expression on your face. Women drink oftener than you imagine, but most
+        of them do it in secret, and not openly, as I do. They do indeed, and it
+        is always either vodka or brandy. [They touch glasses] To your good
+        health! You are so easy to get on with that I am sorry to see you go.
+        [They drink.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. And I am sorry to leave.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. You should ask her to stay.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. She would not do that now. Her son has been behaving
+        outrageously. First he attempted suicide, and now I hear he is going to
+        challenge me to a duel, though what his provocation may be I can&rsquo;t
+        imagine. He is always sulking and sneering and preaching about a new
+        form of art, as if the field of art were not large enough to accommodate
+        both old and new without the necessity of jostling.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. It is jealousy. However, that is none of my business. [A pause.
+        JACOB walks through the room carrying a trunk; NINA comes in and stands
+        by the window] That schoolteacher of mine is none too clever, but he is
+        very good, poor man, and he loves me dearly, and I am sorry for him.
+        However, let me say good-bye and wish you a pleasant journey. Remember
+        me kindly in your thoughts. [She shakes hands with him] Thanks for your
+        goodwill. Send me your books, and be sure to write something in them;
+        nothing formal, but simply this: &ldquo;To Masha, who, forgetful of her
+        origin, for some unknown reason is living in this world.&rdquo; Good-bye. [She
+        goes out.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Holding out her closed hand to TRIGORIN] Is it odd or even?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Even.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [With a sigh] No, it is odd. I had only one pea in my hand. I
+        wanted to see whether I was to become an actress or not. If only some
+        one would advise me what to do!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. One cannot give advice in a case like this. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. We shall soon part, perhaps never to meet again. I should like you
+        to accept this little medallion as a remembrance of me. I have had your
+        initials engraved on it, and on this side is the name of one of your
+        books: &ldquo;Days and Nights.&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. How sweet of you! [He kisses the medallion] It is a lovely
+        present.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Think of me sometimes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. I shall never forget you. I shall always remember you as I saw
+        you that bright day&mdash;do you recall it?&mdash;a week ago, when you
+        wore your light dress, and we talked together, and the white seagull lay
+        on the bench beside us.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Lost in thought] Yes, the sea-gull. [A pause] I beg you to let me
+        see you alone for two minutes before you go.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        She goes out to the left. At the same moment ARKADINA comes in from the
+        right, followed by SORIN in a long coat, with his orders on his breast,
+        and by JACOB, who is busy packing.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Stay here at home, you poor old man. How could you pay visits
+        with that rheumatism of yours? [To TRIGORIN] Who left the room just now,
+        was it Nina?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Yes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I beg your pardon; I am afraid we interrupted you. [She sits
+        down] I think everything is packed. I am absolutely exhausted.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [Reading the inscription on the medallion] &ldquo;Days and Nights,
+        page 121, lines 11 and 12.&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        JACOB. [Clearing the table] Shall I pack your fishing-rods, too, sir?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Yes, I shall need them, but you can give my books away.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        JACOB. Very well, sir.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [To himself] Page 121, lines 11 and 12. [To ARKADINA] Have we
+        my books here in the house?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Yes, they are in my brother&rsquo;s library, in the corner cupboard.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Page 121&mdash;[He goes out.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. You are going away, and I shall be lonely without you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. What would you do in town?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Oh, nothing in particular, but somehow&mdash;[He laughs] They are
+        soon to lay the corner-stone of the new court-house here. How I should
+        like to leap out of this minnow-pond, if but for an hour or two! I am
+        tired of lying here like an old cigarette stump. I have ordered the
+        carriage for one o&rsquo;clock. We can go away together.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [After a pause] No, you must stay here. Don&rsquo;t be lonely, and
+        don&rsquo;t catch cold. Keep an eye on my boy. Take good care of him; guide
+        him along the proper paths. [A pause] I am going away, and so shall
+        never find out why Constantine shot himself, but I think the chief
+        reason was jealousy, and the sooner I take Trigorin away, the better.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. There were&mdash;how shall I explain it to you?&mdash;other
+        reasons besides jealousy for his act. Here is a clever young chap living
+        in the depths of the country, without money or position, with no future
+        ahead of him, and with nothing to do. He is ashamed and afraid of being
+        so idle. I am devoted to him and he is fond of me, but nevertheless he
+        feels that he is useless here, that he is little more than a dependent
+        in this house. It is the pride in him.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. He is a misery to me! [Thoughtfully] He might possibly enter
+        the army.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Gives a whistle, and then speaks with hesitation] It seems to me
+        that the best thing for him would be if you were to let him have a
+        little money. For one thing, he ought to be allowed to dress like a
+        human being. See how he looks! Wearing the same little old coat that he
+        has had for three years, and he doesn&rsquo;t even possess an overcoat!
+        [Laughing] And it wouldn&rsquo;t hurt the youngster to sow a few wild oats;
+        let him go abroad, say, for a time. It wouldn&rsquo;t cost much.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Yes, but&mdash;However, I think I might manage about his
+        clothes, but I couldn&rsquo;t let him go abroad. And no, I don&rsquo;t think I can
+        let him have his clothes even, now. [Decidedly] I have no money at
+        present.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN laughs.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I haven&rsquo;t indeed.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Whistles] Very well. Forgive me, darling; don&rsquo;t be angry. You
+        are a noble, generous woman!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Weeping] I really haven&rsquo;t the money.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. If I had any money of course I should let him have some myself,
+        but I haven&rsquo;t even a penny. The farm manager takes my pension from me
+        and puts it all into the farm or into cattle or bees, and in that way it
+        is always lost for ever. The bees die, the cows die, they never let me
+        have a horse.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Of course I have some money, but I am an actress and my
+        expenses for dress alone are enough to bankrupt me.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. You are a dear, and I am very fond of you, indeed I am. But
+        something is the matter with me again. [He staggers] I feel giddy. [He
+        leans against the table] I feel faint, and all.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Frightened ] Peter! [She tries to support him] Peter!
+        dearest! [She calls] Help! Help!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF and MEDVIEDENKO come in; TREPLIEFF has a bandage around his
+        head.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. He is fainting!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. I am all right. [He smiles and drinks some water] It is all over
+        now.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [To his mother] Don&rsquo;t be frightened, mother, these attacks
+        are not dangerous; my uncle often has them now. [To his uncle] You must
+        go and lie down, Uncle.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Yes, I think I shall, for a few minutes. I am going to Moscow all
+        the same, but I shall lie down a bit before I start. [He goes out
+        leaning on his cane.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. [Giving him his arm] Do you know this riddle? On four legs
+        in the morning; on two legs at noon; and on three legs in the evening?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Laughing] Yes, exactly, and on one&rsquo;s back at night. Thank you, I
+        can walk alone.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Dear me, what formality! [He and SORIN go out.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. He gave me a dreadful fright.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. It is not good for him to live in the country. Mother, if you
+        would only untie your purse-strings for once, and lend him a thousand
+        roubles! He could then spend a whole year in town.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I have no money. I am an actress and not a banker. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Please change my bandage for me, mother, you do it so gently.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA goes to the cupboard and takes out a box of bandages and a
+        bottle of iodoform.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. The doctor is late.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Yes, he promised to be here at nine, and now it is noon
+        already.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Sit down. [She takes the bandage off his head] You look as if
+        you had a turban on. A stranger that was in the kitchen yesterday asked
+        to what nationality you belonged. Your wound is almost healed. [She
+        kisses his head] You won&rsquo;t be up to any more of these silly tricks
+        again, will you, when I am gone?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. No, mother. I did that in a moment of insane despair, when I
+        had lost all control over myself. It will never happen again. [He kisses
+        her hand] Your touch is golden. I remember when you were still acting at
+        the State Theatre, long ago, when I was still a little chap, there was a
+        fight one day in our court, and a poor washerwoman was almost beaten to
+        death. She was picked up unconscious, and you nursed her till she was
+        well, and bathed her children in the washtubs. Have you forgotten it?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Yes, entirely. [She puts on a new bandage.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Two ballet dancers lived in the same house, and they used to
+        come and drink coffee with you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I remember that.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. They were very pious. [A pause] I love you again, these last
+        few days, as tenderly and trustingly as I did as a child. I have no one
+        left me now but you. Why, why do you let yourself be controlled by that
+        man?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. You don&rsquo;t understand him, Constantine. He has a wonderfully
+        noble personality.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Nevertheless, when he has been told that I wish to challenge
+        him to a duel his nobility does not prevent him from playing the coward.
+        He is about to beat an ignominious retreat.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. What nonsense! I have asked him myself to go.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. A noble personality indeed! Here we are almost quarrelling
+        over him, and he is probably in the garden laughing at us at this very
+        moment, or else enlightening Nina&rsquo;s mind and trying to persuade her into
+        thinking him a man of genius.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. You enjoy saying unpleasant things to me. I have the greatest
+        respect for that man, and I must ask you not to speak ill of him in my
+        presence.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I have no respect for him at all. You want me to think him a
+        genius, as you do, but I refuse to lie: his books make me sick.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. You envy him. There is nothing left for people with no talent
+        and mighty pretensions to do but to criticise those who are really
+        gifted. I hope you enjoy the consolation it brings.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [With irony] Those who are really gifted, indeed! [Angrily] I
+        am cleverer than any of you, if it comes to that! [He tears the bandage
+        off his head] You are the slaves of convention, you have seized the
+        upper hand and now lay down as law everything that you do; all else you
+        strangle and trample on. I refuse to accept your point of view, yours
+        and his, I refuse!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. That is the talk of a decadent.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Go back to your beloved stage and act the miserable
+        ditch-water plays you so much admire!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I never acted in a play like that in my life. You couldn&rsquo;t
+        write even the trashiest music-hall farce, you idle good-for-nothing!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Miser!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Rag-bag!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF sits down and begins to cry softly.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Walking up and down in great excitement] Don&rsquo;t cry! You
+        mustn&rsquo;t cry! [She bursts into tears] You really mustn&rsquo;t. [She kisses his
+        forehead, his cheeks, his head] My darling child, forgive me. Forgive
+        your wicked mother.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Embracing her] Oh, if you could only know what it is to have
+        lost everything under heaven! She does not love me. I see I shall never
+        be able to write. Every hope has deserted me.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Don&rsquo;t despair. This will all pass. He is going away to-day,
+        and she will love you once more. [She wipes away his tears] Stop crying.
+        We have made peace again.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Kissing her hand] Yes, mother.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Tenderly] Make your peace with him, too. Don&rsquo;t fight with
+        him. You surely won&rsquo;t fight?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I won&rsquo;t, but you must not insist on my seeing him again,
+        mother, I couldn&rsquo;t stand it. [TRIGORIN comes in] There he is; I am
+        going. [He quickly puts the medicines away in the cupboard] The doctor
+        will attend to my head.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [Looking through the pages of a book] Page 121, lines 11 and
+        12; here it is. [He reads] &ldquo;If at any time you should have need of my
+        life, come and take it.&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF picks up the bandage off the floor and goes out.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Looking at her watch] The carriage will soon be here.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [To himself] If at any time you should have need of my life,
+        come and take it.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I hope your things are all packed.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [Impatiently] Yes, yes. [In deep thought] Why do I hear a note
+        of sadness that wrings my heart in this cry of a pure soul? If at any
+        time you should have need of my life, come and take it. [To ARKADINA]
+        Let us stay here one more day!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA shakes her head.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Do let us stay!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I know, dearest, what keeps you here, but you must control
+        yourself. Be sober; your emotions have intoxicated you a little.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. You must be sober, too. Be sensible; look upon what has
+        happened as a true friend would. [Taking her hand] You are capable of
+        self-sacrifice. Be a friend to me and release me!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [In deep excitement] Are you so much in love?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. I am irresistibly impelled toward her. It may be that this is
+        just what I need.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. What, the love of a country girl? Oh, how little you know
+        yourself!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. People sometimes walk in their sleep, and so I feel as if I
+        were asleep, and dreaming of her as I stand here talking to you. My
+        imagination is shaken by the sweetest and most glorious visions. Release
+        me!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Shuddering] No, no! I am only an ordinary woman; you must not
+        say such things to me. Do not torment me, Boris; you frighten me.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. You could be an extraordinary woman if you only would. Love
+        alone can bring happiness on earth, love the enchanting, the poetical
+        love of youth, that sweeps away the sorrows of the world. I had no time
+        for it when I was young and struggling with want and laying siege to the
+        literary fortress, but now at last this love has come to me. I see it
+        beckoning; why should I fly?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [With anger] You are mad!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Release me.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. You have all conspired together to torture me to-day. [She
+        weeps.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [Clutching his head desperately] She doesn&rsquo;t understand me!
+        She won&rsquo;t understand me!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Am I then so old and ugly already that you can talk to me like
+        this without any shame about another woman? [She embraces and kisses
+        him] Oh, you have lost your senses! My splendid, my glorious friend, my
+        love for you is the last chapter of my life. [She falls on her knees]
+        You are my pride, my joy, my light. [She embraces his knees] I could
+        never endure it should you desert me, if only for an hour; I should go
+        mad. Oh, my wonder, my marvel, my king!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Some one might come in. [He helps her to rise.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Let them come! I am not ashamed of my love. [She kisses his
+        hands] My jewel! My despair! You want to do a foolish thing, but I don&rsquo;t
+        want you to do it. I shan&rsquo;t let you do it! [She laughs] You are mine,
+        you are mine! This forehead is mine, these eyes are mine, this silky
+        hair is mine. All your being is mine. You are so clever, so wise, the
+        first of all living writers; you are the only hope of your country. You
+        are so fresh, so simple, so deeply humourous. You can bring out every
+        feature of a man or of a landscape in a single line, and your characters
+        live and breathe. Do you think that these words are but the incense of
+        flattery? Do you think I am not speaking the truth? Come, look into my
+        eyes; look deep; do you find lies there? No, you see that I alone know
+        how to treasure you. I alone tell you the truth. Oh, my very dear, you
+        will go with me? You will? You will not forsake me?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. I have no will of my own; I never had. I am too indolent, too
+        submissive, too phlegmatic, to have any. Is it possible that women like
+        that? Take me. Take me away with you, but do not let me stir a step from
+        your side.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [To herself] Now he is mine! [Carelessly, as if nothing
+        unusual had happened] Of course you must stay here if you really want
+        to. I shall go, and you can follow in a week&rsquo;s time. Yes, really, why
+        should you hurry away?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Let us go together.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. As you like. Let us go together then. [A pause. TRIGORIN
+        writes something in his note-book] What are you writing?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. A happy expression I heard this morning: &ldquo;A grove of maiden
+        pines.&rdquo; It may be useful. [He yawns] So we are really off again,
+        condemned once more to railway carriages, to stations and restaurants,
+        to Hamburger steaks and endless arguments!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF comes in.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. I am sorry to have to inform you that your carriage is at the
+        door. It is time to start, honoured madam, the train leaves at two-five.
+        Would you be kind enough, madam, to remember to inquire for me where
+        Suzdaltzeff the actor is now? Is he still alive, I wonder? Is he well?
+        He and I have had many a jolly time together. He was inimitable in &ldquo;The
+        Stolen Mail.&rdquo; A tragedian called Izmailoff was in the same company, I
+        remember, who was also quite remarkable. Don&rsquo;t hurry, madam, you still
+        have five minutes. They were both of them conspirators once, in the same
+        melodrama, and one night when in the course of the play they were
+        suddenly discovered, instead of saying &ldquo;We have been trapped!&rdquo; Izmailoff
+        cried out: &ldquo;We have been rapped!&rdquo; [He laughs] Rapped!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        While he has been talking JACOB has been busy with the trunks, and the
+        maid has brought ARKADINA her hat, coat, parasol, and gloves. The cook
+        looks hesitatingly through the door on the right, and finally comes into
+        the room. PAULINA comes in. MEDVIEDENKO comes in.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. [Presenting ARKADINA with a little basket] Here are some plums
+        for the journey. They are very sweet ones. You may want to nibble
+        something good on the way.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. You are very kind, Paulina.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. Good-bye, my dearie. If things have not been quite as you could
+        have wished, please forgive us. [She weeps.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. It has been delightful, delightful. You mustn&rsquo;t cry.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN comes in through the door on the left, dressed in a long coat with
+        a cape, and carrying his hat and cane. He crosses the room.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Come, sister, it is time to start, unless you want to miss the
+        train. I am going to get into the carriage. [He goes out.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. I shall walk quickly to the station and see you off there.
+        [He goes out.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Good-bye, all! We shall meet again next summer if we live.
+        [The maid servant, JACOB, and the cook kiss her hand] Don&rsquo;t forget me.
+        [She gives the cook a rouble] There is a rouble for all three of you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        THE COOK. Thank you, mistress; a pleasant journey to you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        JACOB. God bless you, mistress.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. Send us a line to cheer us up. [TO TRIGORIN] Good-bye, sir.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Where is Constantine? Tell him I am starting. I must say
+        good-bye to him. [To JACOB] I gave the cook a rouble for all three of
+        you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        All go out through the door on the right. The stage remains empty.
+        Sounds of farewell are heard. The maid comes running back to fetch the
+        basket of plums which has been forgotten. TRIGORIN comes back.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. I had forgotten my cane. I think I left it on the terrace. [He
+        goes toward the door on the right and meets NINA, who comes in at that
+        moment] Is that you? We are off.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I knew we should meet again. [With emotion] I have come to an
+        irrevocable decision, the die is cast: I am going on the stage. I am
+        deserting my father and abandoning everything. I am beginning life anew.
+        I am going, as you are, to Moscow. We shall meet there.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [Glancing about him] Go to the Hotel Slavianski Bazar. Let me
+        know as soon as you get there. I shall be at the Grosholski House in
+        Moltchanofka Street. I must go now. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Just one more minute!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [In a low voice] You are so beautiful! What bliss to think
+        that I shall see you again so soon! [She sinks on his breast] I shall
+        see those glorious eyes again, that wonderful, ineffably tender smile,
+        those gentle features with their expression of angelic purity! My
+        darling! [A prolonged kiss.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        The curtain falls.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        Two years elapse between the third and fourth acts.
+      </p>
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      ACT IV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <i>A sitting-room in SORIN&rsquo;S house, which has been converted into a
+      writing-room for TREPLIEFF. To the right and left are doors leading into
+      inner rooms, and in the centre is a glass door opening onto a terrace.
+      Besides the usual furniture of a sitting-room there is a writing-desk in
+      the right-hand corner of the room. There is a Turkish divan near the door
+      on the left, and shelves full of books stand against the walls. Books are
+      lying scattered about on the windowsills and chairs. It is evening. The
+      room is dimly lighted by a shaded lamp on a table. The wind moans in the
+      tree tops and whistles down the chimney. The watchman in the garden is
+      heard sounding his rattle. MEDVIEDENKO and MASHA come in</i>.
+    </p>
+    <div style="margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;">
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [Calling TREPLIEFF] Mr. Constantine, where are you? [Looking
+        about her] There is no one here. His old uncle is forever asking for
+        Constantine, and can&rsquo;t live without him for an instant.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. He dreads being left alone. [Listening to the wind] This is
+        a wild night. We have had this storm for two days.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [Turning up the lamp] The waves on the lake are enormous.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. It is very dark in the garden. Do you know, I think that
+        old theatre ought to be knocked down. It is still standing there, naked
+        and hideous as a skeleton, with the curtain flapping in the wind. I
+        thought I heard a voice weeping in it as I passed there last night.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. What an idea! [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Come home with me, Masha.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [Shaking her head] I shall spend the night here.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. [Imploringly] Do come, Masha. The baby must be hungry.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Nonsense, Matriona will feed it. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. It is a pity to leave him three nights without his mother.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. You are getting too tiresome. You used sometimes to talk of other
+        things besides home and the baby, home and the baby. That is all I ever
+        hear from you now.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Come home, Masha.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. You can go home if you want to.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Your father won&rsquo;t give me a horse.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Yes, he will; ask him.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. I think I shall. Are you coming home to-morrow?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Yes, yes, to-morrow.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        She takes snuff. TREPLIEFF and PAULINA come in. TREPLIEFF is carrying
+        some pillows and a blanket, and PAULINA is carrying sheets and pillow
+        cases. They lay them on the divan, and TREPLIEFF goes and sits down at
+        his desk.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Who is that for, mother?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. Mr. Sorin asked to sleep in Constantine&rsquo;s room to-night.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Let me make the bed.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        She makes the bed. PAULINA goes up to the desk and looks at the
+        manuscripts lying on it. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Well, I am going. Good-bye, Masha. [He kisses his wife&rsquo;s
+        hand] Good-bye, mother. [He tries to kiss his mother-in-law&rsquo;s hand.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. [Crossly] Be off, in God&rsquo;s name!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF shakes hands with him in silence, and MEDVIEDENKO goes out.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. [Looking at the manuscripts] No one ever dreamed, Constantine,
+        that you would one day turn into a real author. The magazines pay you
+        well for your stories. [She strokes his hair.] You have grown handsome,
+        too. Dear, kind Constantine, be a little nicer to my Masha.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [Still making the bed] Leave him alone, mother.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. She is a sweet child. [A pause] A woman, Constantine, asks only
+        for kind looks. I know that from experience.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF gets up from his desk and goes out without a word.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. There now! You have vexed him. I told you not to bother him.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. I am sorry for you, Masha.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Much I need your pity!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. My heart aches for you. I see how things are, and understand.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. You see what doesn&rsquo;t exist. Hopeless love is only found in
+        novels. It is a trifle; all one has to do is to keep a tight rein on
+        oneself, and keep one&rsquo;s head clear. Love must be plucked out the moment
+        it springs up in the heart. My husband has been promised a school in
+        another district, and when we have once left this place I shall forget
+        it all. I shall tear my passion out by the roots. [The notes of a
+        melancholy waltz are heard in the distance.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. Constantine is playing. That means he is sad.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA silently waltzes a few turns to the music.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. The great thing, mother, is not to have him continually in sight.
+        If my Simon could only get his remove I should forget it all in a month
+        or two. It is a trifle.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN and MEDVIEDENKO come in through the door on the left, wheeling
+        SORIN in an arm-chair.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. I have six mouths to feed now, and flour is at seventy
+        kopecks.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. A hard riddle to solve!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. It is easy for you to make light of it. You are rich enough
+        to scatter money to your chickens, if you wanted to.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. You think I am rich? My friend, after practising for thirty years,
+        during which I could not call my soul my own for one minute of the night
+        or day, I succeeded at last in scraping together one thousand roubles,
+        all of which went, not long ago, in a trip which I took abroad. I
+        haven&rsquo;t a penny.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [To her husband] So you didn&rsquo;t go home after all?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. [Apologetically] How can I go home when they won&rsquo;t give me
+        a horse?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [Under her breath, with bitter anger] Would I might never see
+        your face again!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN in his chair is wheeled to the left-hand side of the room.
+        PAULINA, MASHA, and DORN sit down beside him. MEDVIEDENKO stands sadly
+        aside.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. What a lot of changes you have made here! You have turned this
+        sitting-room into a library.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Constantine likes to work in this room, because from it he can
+        step out into the garden to meditate whenever he feels like it. [The
+        watchman&rsquo;s rattle is heard.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Where is my sister?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. She has gone to the station to meet Trigorin. She will soon be
+        back.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. I must be dangerously ill if you had to send for my sister. [He
+        falls silent for a moment] A nice business this is! Here I am
+        dangerously ill, and you won&rsquo;t even give me any medicine.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. What shall I prescribe for you? Camomile tea? Soda? Quinine?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Don&rsquo;t inflict any of your discussions on me again. [He nods
+        toward the sofa] Is that bed for me?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. Yes, for you, sir.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. Thank you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Sings] &ldquo;The moon swims in the sky to-night.&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. I am going to give Constantine an idea for a story. It shall be
+        called &ldquo;The Man Who Wished&mdash;L&rsquo;Homme qui a voulu.&rdquo; When I was young,
+        I wished to become an author; I failed. I wished to be an orator; I
+        speak abominably, [Exciting himself] with my eternal &ldquo;and all, and all,&rdquo;
+         dragging each sentence on and on until I sometimes break out into a
+        sweat all over. I wished to marry, and I didn&rsquo;t; I wished to live in the
+        city, and here I am ending my days in the country, and all.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. You wished to become State Councillor, and&mdash;you are one!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Laughing] I didn&rsquo;t try for that, it came of its own accord.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Come, you must admit that it is petty to cavil at life at
+        sixty-two years of age.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. You are pig-headed! Can&rsquo;t you see I want to live?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. That is futile. Nature has commanded that every life shall come to
+        an end.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. You speak like a man who is satiated with life. Your thirst for
+        it is quenched, and so you are calm and indifferent, but even you dread
+        death.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. The fear of death is an animal passion which must be overcome.
+        Only those who believe in a future life and tremble for sins committed,
+        can logically fear death; but you, for one thing, don&rsquo;t believe in a
+        future life, and for another, you haven&rsquo;t committed any sins. You have
+        served as a Councillor for twenty-five years, that is all.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. [Laughing] Twenty-eight years!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF comes in and sits down on a stool at SORIN&rsquo;S feet. MASHA fixes
+        her eyes on his face and never once tears them away.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. We are keeping Constantine from his work.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. No matter. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Of all the cities you visited when you were abroad, Doctor,
+        which one did you like the best?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Genoa.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Why Genoa?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Because there is such a splendid crowd in its streets. When you
+        leave the hotel in the evening, and throw yourself into the heart of
+        that throng, and move with it without aim or object, swept along, hither
+        and thither, their life seems to be yours, their soul flows into you,
+        and you begin to believe at last in a great world spirit, like the one
+        in your play that Nina Zarietchnaya acted. By the way, where is Nina
+        now? Is she well?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I believe so.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. I hear she has led rather a strange life; what happened?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. It is a long story, Doctor.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Tell it shortly. [A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. She ran away from home and joined Trigorin; you know that?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Yes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. She had a child that died. Trigorin soon tired of her and
+        returned to his former ties, as might have been expected. He had never
+        broken them, indeed, but out of weakness of character had always
+        vacillated between the two. As far as I can make out from what I have
+        heard, Nina&rsquo;s domestic life has not been altogether a success.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. What about her acting?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I believe she made an even worse failure of that. She made
+        her debut on the stage of the Summer Theatre in Moscow, and afterward
+        made a tour of the country towns. At that time I never let her out of my
+        sight, and wherever she went I followed. She always attempted great and
+        difficult parts, but her delivery was harsh and monotonous, and her
+        gestures heavy and crude. She shrieked and died well at times, but those
+        were but moments.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Then she really has a talent for acting?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I never could make out. I believe she has. I saw her, but she
+        refused to see me, and her servant would never admit me to her rooms. I
+        appreciated her feelings, and did not insist upon a meeting. [A pause]
+        What more can I tell you? She sometimes writes to me now that I have
+        come home, such clever, sympathetic letters, full of warm feeling. She
+        never complains, but I can tell that she is profoundly unhappy; not a
+        line but speaks to me of an aching, breaking nerve. She has one strange
+        fancy; she always signs herself &ldquo;The Sea-gull.&rdquo; The miller in &ldquo;Rusalka&rdquo;
+         called himself &ldquo;The Crow,&rdquo; and so she repeats in all her letters that
+        she is a sea-gull. She is here now.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. What do you mean by &ldquo;here?&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. In the village, at the inn. She has been there for five days.
+        I should have gone to see her, but Masha here went, and she refuses to
+        see any one. Some one told me she had been seen wandering in the fields
+        a mile from here yesterday evening.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, I saw her. She was walking away from here in the
+        direction of the village. I asked her why she had not been to see us.
+        She said she would come.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. But she won&rsquo;t. [A pause] Her father and stepmother have
+        disowned her. They have even put watchmen all around their estate to
+        keep her away. [He goes with the doctor toward the desk] How easy it is,
+        Doctor, to be a philosopher on paper, and how difficult in real life!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SORIN. She was a beautiful girl. Even the State Councillor himself was
+        in love with her for a time.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. You old Lovelace, you!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF&rsquo;S laugh is heard.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. They are coming back from the station.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Yes, I hear my mother&rsquo;s voice.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA and TRIGORIN come in, followed by SHAMRAEFF.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. We all grow old and wither, my lady, while you alone, with
+        your light dress, your gay spirits, and your grace, keep the secret of
+        eternal youth.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. You are still trying to turn my head, you tiresome old man.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [To SORIN] How do you do, Peter? What, still ill? How silly of
+        you! [With evident pleasure, as he catches sight of MASHA] How are you,
+        Miss Masha?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. So you recognised me? [She shakes hands with him.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Did you marry him?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Long ago.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. You are happy now? [He bows to DORN and MEDVIEDENKO, and then
+        goes hesitatingly toward TREPLIEFF] Your mother says you have forgotten
+        the past and are no longer angry with me.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF gives him his hand.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [To her son] Here is a magazine that Boris has brought you
+        with your latest story in it.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [To TRIGORIN, as he takes the magazine] Many thanks; you are
+        very kind.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Your admirers all send you their regards. Every one in Moscow
+        and St. Petersburg is interested in you, and all ply me with questions
+        about you. They ask me what you look like, how old you are, whether you
+        are fair or dark. For some reason they all think that you are no longer
+        young, and no one knows who you are, as you always write under an
+        assumed name. You are as great a mystery as the Man in the Iron Mask.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Do you expect to be here long?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. No, I must go back to Moscow to-morrow. I am finishing another
+        novel, and have promised something to a magazine besides. In fact, it is
+        the same old business.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        During their conversation ARKADINA and PAULINA have put up a card-table
+        in the centre of the room; SHAMRAEFF lights the candles and arranges the
+        chairs, then fetches a box of lotto from the cupboard.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. The weather has given me a rough welcome. The wind is
+        frightful. If it goes down by morning I shall go fishing in the lake,
+        and shall have a look at the garden and the spot&mdash;do you remember?&mdash;where
+        your play was given. I remember the piece very well, but should like to
+        see again where the scene was laid.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. [To her father] Father, do please let my husband have a horse. He
+        ought to go home.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. [Angrily] A horse to go home with! [Sternly] You know the
+        horses have just been to the station. I can&rsquo;t send them out again.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. But there are other horses. [Seeing that her father remains
+        silent] You are impossible!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. I shall go on foot, Masha.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. [With a sigh] On foot in this weather? [She takes a seat at the
+        card-table] Shall we begin?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MEDVIEDENKO. It is only six miles. Good-bye. [He kisses his wife&rsquo;s
+        hand;] Good-bye, mother. [His mother-in-law gives him her hand
+        unwillingly] I should not have troubled you all, but the baby&mdash;[He
+        bows to every one] Good-bye. [He goes out with an apologetic air.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. He will get there all right, he is not a major-general.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. Come, let us begin. Don&rsquo;t let us waste time, we shall soon be
+        called to supper.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF, MASHA, and DORN sit down at the card-table.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] When the long autumn evenings descend on us we
+        while away the time here by playing lotto. Look at this old set; we used
+        it when our mother played with us as children. Don&rsquo;t you want to take a
+        hand in the game with us until supper time? [She and TRIGORIN sit down
+        at the table] It is a monotonous game, but it is all right when one gets
+        used to it. [She deals three cards to each of the players.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Looking through the pages of the magazine] He has read his
+        own story, and hasn&rsquo;t even cut the pages of mine.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        He lays the magazine on his desk and goes toward the door on the right,
+        stopping as he passes his mother to give her a kiss.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Won&rsquo;t you play, Constantine?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. No, excuse me please, I don&rsquo;t feel like it. I am going to
+        take a turn through the rooms. [He goes out.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Are you all ready? I shall begin: twenty-two.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Here it is.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Three.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Right.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Have you put down three? Eight. Eighty-one. Ten.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. Don&rsquo;t go so fast.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Could you believe it? I am still dazed by the reception they
+        gave me in Kharkoff.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Thirty-four. [The notes of a melancholy waltz are heard.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. The students gave me an ovation; they sent me three baskets of
+        flowers, a wreath, and this thing here.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        She unclasps a brooch from her breast and lays it on the table.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. There is something worth while!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Fifty.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Fifty, did you say?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. I wore a perfectly magnificent dress; I am no fool when it
+        comes to clothes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. Constantine is playing again; the poor boy is sad.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. He has been severely criticised in the papers.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Seventy-seven.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. They want to attract attention to him.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. He doesn&rsquo;t seem able to make a success, he can&rsquo;t somehow
+        strike the right note. There is an odd vagueness about his writings that
+        sometimes verges on delirium. He has never created a single living
+        character.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Eleven.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Are you bored, Peter? [A pause] He is asleep.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. The Councillor is taking a nap.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Seven. Ninety.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Do you think I should write if I lived in such a place as
+        this, on the shore of this lake? Never! I should overcome my passion,
+        and give my life up to the catching of fish.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Twenty-eight.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. And if I caught a perch or a bass, what bliss it would be!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. I have great faith in Constantine. I know there is something in
+        him. He thinks in images; his stories are vivid and full of colour, and
+        always affect me deeply. It is only a pity that he has no definite
+        object in view. He creates impressions, and nothing more, and one cannot
+        go far on impressions alone. Are you glad, madam, that you have an
+        author for a son?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Just think, I have never read anything of his; I never have
+        time.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Twenty-six.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF comes in quietly and sits down at his table.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. [To TRIGORIN] We have something here that belongs to you,
+        sir.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. What is it?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. You told me to have the sea-gull stuffed that Mr. Constantine
+        killed some time ago.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. Did I? [Thoughtfully] I don&rsquo;t remember.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Sixty-one. One.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF throws open the window and stands listening.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. How dark the night is! I wonder what makes me so restless.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Shut the window, Constantine, there is a draught here.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF shuts the window.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        MASHA. Ninety-eight.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. See, my card is full.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Gaily] Bravo! Bravo!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. Bravo!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Wherever he goes and whatever he does, that man always has
+        good luck. [She gets up] And now, come to supper. Our renowned guest did
+        not have any dinner to-day. We can continue our game later. [To her son]
+        Come, Constantine, leave your writing and come to supper.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I don&rsquo;t want anything to eat, mother; I am not hungry.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. As you please. [She wakes SORIN] Come to supper, Peter. [She
+        takes SHAMRAEFF&rsquo;S arm] Let me tell you about my reception in Kharkoff.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA blows out the candles on the table, then she and DORN roll
+        SORIN&rsquo;S chair out of the room, and all go out through the door on the
+        left, except TREPLIEFF, who is left alone. TREPLIEFF prepares to write.
+        He runs his eye over what he has already written.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I have talked a great deal about new forms of art, but I feel
+        myself gradually slipping into the beaten track. [He reads] &ldquo;The placard
+        cried it from the wall&mdash;a pale face in a frame of dusky hair&rdquo;&mdash;cried&mdash;frame&mdash;that
+        is stupid. [He scratches out what he has written] I shall begin again
+        from the place where my hero is wakened by the noise of the rain, but
+        what follows must go. This description of a moonlight night is long and
+        stilted. Trigorin has worked out a process of his own, and descriptions
+        are easy for him. He writes that the neck of a broken bottle lying on
+        the bank glittered in the moonlight, and that the shadows lay black
+        under the mill-wheel. There you have a moonlight night before your eyes,
+        but I speak of the shimmering light, the twinkling stars, the distant
+        sounds of a piano melting into the still and scented air, and the result
+        is abominable. [A pause] The conviction is gradually forcing itself upon
+        me that good literature is not a question of forms new or old, but of
+        ideas that must pour freely from the author&rsquo;s heart, without his
+        bothering his head about any forms whatsoever. [A knock is heard at the
+        window nearest the table] What was that? [He looks out of the window] I
+        can&rsquo;t see anything. [He opens the glass door and looks out into the
+        garden] I heard some one run down the steps. [He calls] Who is there?
+        [He goes out, and is heard walking quickly along the terrace. In a few
+        minutes he comes back with NINA ZARIETCHNAYA] Oh, Nina, Nina!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA lays her head on TREPLIEFF&rsquo;S breast and stifles her sobs.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Deeply moved] Nina, Nina! It is you&mdash;you! I felt you
+        would come; all day my heart has been aching for you. [He takes off her
+        hat and cloak] My darling, my beloved has come back to me! We mustn&rsquo;t
+        cry, we mustn&rsquo;t cry.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. There is some one here.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. No one is here.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Lock the door, some one might come.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. No one will come in.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I know your mother is here. Lock the door.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF locks the door on the right and comes back to NINA.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. There is no lock on that one. I shall put a chair against it.
+        [He puts an arm-chair against the door] Don&rsquo;t be frightened, no one
+        shall come in.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Gazing intently into his face] Let me look at you. [She looks
+        about her] It is warm and comfortable in here. This used to be a
+        sitting-room. Have I changed much?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Yes, you have grown thinner, and your eyes are larger than
+        they were. Nina, it seems so strange to see you! Why didn&rsquo;t you let me
+        go to you? Why didn&rsquo;t you come sooner to me? You have been here nearly a
+        week, I know. I have been several times each day to where you live, and
+        have stood like a beggar beneath your window.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I was afraid you might hate me. I dream every night that you look
+        at me without recognising me. I have been wandering about on the shores
+        of the lake ever since I came back. I have often been near your house,
+        but I have never had the courage to come in. Let us sit down. [They sit
+        down] Let us sit down and talk our hearts out. It is so quiet and warm
+        in here. Do you hear the wind whistling outside? As Turgenieff says,
+        &ldquo;Happy is he who can sit at night under the roof of his home, who has a
+        warm corner in which to take refuge.&rdquo; I am a sea-gull&mdash;and yet&mdash;no.
+        [She passes her hand across her forehead] What was I saying? Oh, yes,
+        Turgenieff. He says, &ldquo;and God help all houseless wanderers.&rdquo; [She sobs.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Nina! You are crying again, Nina!
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. It is all right. I shall feel better after this. I have not cried
+        for two years. I went into the garden last night to see if our old
+        theatre were still standing. I see it is. I wept there for the first
+        time in two years, and my heart grew lighter, and my soul saw more
+        clearly again. See, I am not crying now. [She takes his hand in hers] So
+        you are an author now, and I am an actress. We have both been sucked
+        into the whirlpool. My life used to be as happy as a child&rsquo;s; I used to
+        wake singing in the morning; I loved you and dreamt of fame, and what is
+        the reality? To-morrow morning early I must start for Eltz by train in a
+        third-class carriage, with a lot of peasants, and at Eltz the educated
+        trades-people will pursue me with compliments. It is a rough life.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Why are you going to Eltz?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. I have accepted an engagement there for the winter. It is time for
+        me to go.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Nina, I have cursed you, and hated you, and torn up your
+        photograph, and yet I have known every minute of my life that my heart
+        and soul were yours for ever. To cease from loving you is beyond my
+        power. I have suffered continually from the time I lost you and began to
+        write, and my life has been almost unendurable. My youth was suddenly
+        plucked from me then, and I seem now to have lived in this world for
+        ninety years. I have called out to you, I have kissed the ground you
+        walked on, wherever I looked I have seen your face before my eyes, and
+        the smile that had illumined for me the best years of my life.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Despairingly] Why, why does he talk to me like this?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. I am quite alone, unwarmed by any attachment. I am as cold as
+        if I were living in a cave. Whatever I write is dry and gloomy and
+        harsh. Stay here, Nina, I beseech you, or else let me go away with you.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA quickly puts on her coat and hat.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Nina, why do you do that? For God&rsquo;s sake, Nina! [He watches
+        her as she dresses. A pause.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. My carriage is at the gate. Do not come out to see me off. I shall
+        find the way alone. [Weeping] Let me have some water.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF hands her a glass of water.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Where are you going?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Back to the village. Is your mother here?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Yes, my uncle fell ill on Thursday, and we telegraphed for
+        her to come.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. Why do you say that you have kissed the ground I walked on? You
+        should kill me rather. [She bends over the table] I am so tired. If I
+        could only rest&mdash;rest. [She raises her head] I am a sea-gull&mdash;no&mdash;no,
+        I am an actress. [She hears ARKADINA and TRIGORIN laughing in the
+        distance, runs to the door on the left and looks through the keyhole] He
+        is there too. [She goes back to TREPLIEFF] Ah, well&mdash;no matter. He
+        does not believe in the theatre; he used to laugh at my dreams, so that
+        little by little I became down-hearted and ceased to believe in it too.
+        Then came all the cares of love, the continual anxiety about my little
+        one, so that I soon grew trivial and spiritless, and played my parts
+        without meaning. I never knew what to do with my hands, and I could not
+        walk properly or control my voice. You cannot imagine the state of mind
+        of one who knows as he goes through a play how terribly badly he is
+        acting. I am a sea-gull&mdash;no&mdash;no, that is not what I meant to
+        say. Do you remember how you shot a seagull once? A man chanced to pass
+        that way and destroyed it out of idleness. That is an idea for a short
+        story, but it is not what I meant to say. [She passes her hand across
+        her forehead] What was I saying? Oh, yes, the stage. I have changed now.
+        Now I am a real actress. I act with joy, with exaltation, I am
+        intoxicated by it, and feel that I am superb. I have been walking and
+        walking, and thinking and thinking, ever since I have been here, and I
+        feel the strength of my spirit growing in me every day. I know now, I
+        understand at last, Constantine, that for us, whether we write or act,
+        it is not the honour and glory of which I have dreamt that is important,
+        it is the strength to endure. One must know how to bear one&rsquo;s cross, and
+        one must have faith. I believe, and so do not suffer so much, and when I
+        think of my calling I do not fear life.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [Sadly] You have found your way, you know where you are
+        going, but I am still groping in a chaos of phantoms and dreams, not
+        knowing whom and what end I am serving by it all. I do not believe in
+        anything, and I do not know what my calling is.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. [Listening] Hush! I must go. Good-bye. When I have become a famous
+        actress you must come and see me. Will you promise to come? But now&mdash;[She
+        takes his hand] it is late. I can hardly stand. I am fainting. I am
+        hungry.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. Stay, and let me bring you some supper.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        NINA. No, no&mdash;and don&rsquo;t come out, I can find the way alone. My
+        carriage is not far away. So she brought him back with her? However,
+        what difference can that make to me? Don&rsquo;t tell Trigorin anything when
+        you see him. I love him&mdash;I love him even more than I used to. It is
+        an idea for a short story. I love him&mdash;I love him passionately&mdash;I
+        love him to despair. Have you forgotten, Constantine, how pleasant the
+        old times were? What a gay, bright, gentle, pure life we led? How a
+        feeling as sweet and tender as a flower blossomed in our hearts? Do you
+        remember, [She recites] &ldquo;All men and beasts, lions, eagles, and quails,
+        horned stags, geese, spiders, silent fish that inhabit the waves,
+        starfish from the sea, and creatures invisible to the eye&mdash;in one
+        word, life&mdash;all, all life, completing the dreary round set before
+        it, has died out at last. A thousand years have passed since the earth
+        last bore a living creature on its breast, and the unhappy moon now
+        lights her lamp in vain. No longer are the cries of storks heard in the
+        meadows, or the drone of beetles in the groves of limes&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        She embraces TREPLIEFF impetuously and runs out onto the terrace.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TREPLIEFF. [After a pause] It would be a pity if she were seen in the
+        garden. My mother would be distressed.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        He stands for several minutes tearing up his manuscripts and throwing
+        them under the table, then unlocks the door on the right and goes out.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Trying to force open the door on the left] Odd! This door seems
+        to be locked. [He comes in and puts the chair back in its former place]
+        This is like a hurdle race.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA and PAULINA come in, followed by JACOB carrying some bottles;
+        then come MASHA, SHAMRAEFF, and TRIGORIN.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. Put the claret and the beer here, on the table, so that we can
+        drink while we are playing. Sit down, friends.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        PAULINA. And bring the tea at once.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        She lights the candles and takes her seat at the card-table. SHAMRAEFF
+        leads TRIGORIN to the cupboard.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        SHAMRAEFF. Here is the stuffed sea-gull I was telling you about. [He
+        takes the sea-gull out of the cupboard] You told me to have it done.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        TRIGORIN. [looking at the bird] I don&rsquo;t remember a thing about it, not a
+        thing. [A shot is heard. Every one jumps.]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Frightened] What was that?
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. Nothing at all; probably one of my medicine bottles has blown up.
+        Don&rsquo;t worry. [He goes out through the door on the right, and comes back
+        in a few moments] It is as I thought, a flask of ether has exploded. [He
+        sings]
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        &ldquo;Spellbound once more I stand before thee.&rdquo;
+       </p>
+      <p>
+        ARKADINA. [Sitting down at the table] Heavens! I was really frightened.
+        That noise reminded me of&mdash;[She covers her face with her hands]
+        Everything is black before my eyes.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        DORN. [Looking through the pages of a magazine, to TRIGORIN] There was
+        an article from America in this magazine about two months ago that I
+        wanted to ask you about, among other things. [He leads TRIGORIN to the
+        front of the stage] I am very much interested in this question. [He
+        lowers his voice and whispers] You must take Madame Arkadina away from
+        here; what I wanted to say was, that Constantine has shot himself.
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        The curtain falls.
+      </p>
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
+  </body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sea-Gull, by Anton Checkov
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sea-Gull
+
+Author: Anton Checkov
+
+Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1754]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEA-GULL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SEA-GULL
+
+
+by Anton Checkov
+
+
+
+A Play In Four Acts
+
+
+
+
+CHARACTERS
+
+IRINA ABKADINA, an actress
+
+CONSTANTINE TREPLIEFF, her son
+
+PETER SORIN, her brother
+
+NINA ZARIETCHNAYA, a young girl, the daughter of a rich landowner
+
+ILIA SHAMRAEFF, the manager of SORIN'S estate
+
+PAULINA, his wife
+
+MASHA, their daughter
+
+BORIS TRIGORIN, an author
+
+EUGENE DORN, a doctor
+
+SIMON MEDVIEDENKO, a schoolmaster
+
+JACOB, a workman
+
+A COOK
+
+A MAIDSERVANT
+
+
+_The scene is laid on SORIN'S estate. Two years elapse between the third
+and fourth acts_.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEA-GULL
+
+
+
+
+ACT I
+
+_The scene is laid in the park on SORIN'S estate. A broad avenue of
+trees leads away from the audience toward a lake which lies lost in
+the depths of the park. The avenue is obstructed by a rough stage,
+temporarily erected for the performance of amateur theatricals, and
+which screens the lake from view. There is a dense growth of bushes to
+the left and right of the stage. A few chairs and a little table are
+placed in front of the stage. The sun has just set. JACOB and some other
+workmen are heard hammering and coughing on the stage behind the lowered
+curtain_.
+
+MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO come in from the left, returning from a walk.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Why do you always wear mourning?
+
+MASHA. I dress in black to match my life. I am unhappy.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Why should you be unhappy? [Thinking it over] I don't
+understand it. You are healthy, and though your father is not rich, he
+has a good competency. My life is far harder than yours. I only have
+twenty-three roubles a month to live on, but I don't wear mourning.
+[They sit down].
+
+MASHA. Happiness does not depend on riches; poor men are often happy.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. In theory, yes, but not in reality. Take my case, for
+instance; my mother, my two sisters, my little brother and I must all
+live somehow on my salary of twenty-three roubles a month. We have to
+eat and drink, I take it. You wouldn't have us go without tea and sugar,
+would you? Or tobacco? Answer me that, if you can.
+
+MASHA. [Looking in the direction of the stage] The play will soon begin.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, Nina Zarietchnaya is going to act in Treplieff's play.
+They love one another, and their two souls will unite to-night in the
+effort to interpret the same idea by different means. There is no ground
+on which your soul and mine can meet. I love you. Too restless and sad
+to stay at home, I tramp here every day, six miles and back, to be met
+only by your indifference. I am poor, my family is large, you can have
+no inducement to marry a man who cannot even find sufficient food for
+his own mouth.
+
+MASHA. It is not that. [She takes snuff] I am touched by your affection,
+but I cannot return it, that is all. [She offers him the snuff-box] Will
+you take some?
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. No, thank you. [A pause.]
+
+MASHA. The air is sultry; a storm is brewing for to-night. You do
+nothing but moralise or else talk about money. To you, poverty is the
+greatest misfortune that can befall a man, but I think it is a thousand
+times easier to go begging in rags than to--You wouldn't understand
+that, though.
+
+SORIN leaning on a cane, and TREPLIEFF come in.
+
+SORIN. For some reason, my boy, country life doesn't suit me, and I am
+sure I shall never get used to it. Last night I went to bed at ten and
+woke at nine this morning, feeling as if, from oversleep, my brain had
+stuck to my skull. [Laughing] And yet I accidentally dropped off to
+sleep again after dinner, and feel utterly done up at this moment. It is
+like a nightmare.
+
+TREPLIEFF. There is no doubt that you should live in town. [He catches
+sight of MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO] You shall be called when the play
+begins, my friends, but you must not stay here now. Go away, please.
+
+SORIN. Miss Masha, will you kindly ask your father to leave the dog
+unchained? It howled so last night that my sister was unable to sleep.
+
+MASHA. You must speak to my father yourself. Please excuse me; I can't
+do so. [To MEDVIEDENKO] Come, let us go.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. You will let us know when the play begins?
+
+MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO go out.
+
+SORIN. I foresee that that dog is going to howl all night again. It is
+always this way in the country; I have never been able to live as I like
+here. I come down for a month's holiday, to rest and all, and am
+plagued so by their nonsense that I long to escape after the first day.
+[Laughing] I have always been glad to get away from this place, but I
+have been retired now, and this was the only place I had to come to.
+Willy-nilly, one must live somewhere.
+
+JACOB. [To TREPLIEFF] We are going to take a swim, Mr. Constantine.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Very well, but you must be back in ten minutes.
+
+JACOB. We will, sir.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Looking at the stage] Just like a real theatre! See,
+there we have the curtain, the foreground, the background, and all. No
+artificial scenery is needed. The eye travels direct to the lake, and
+rests on the horizon. The curtain will be raised as the moon rises at
+half-past eight.
+
+SORIN. Splendid!
+
+TREPLIEFF. Of course the whole effect will be ruined if Nina is late.
+She should be here by now, but her father and stepmother watch her so
+closely that it is like stealing her from a prison to get her away from
+home. [He straightens SORIN'S collar] Your hair and beard are all on
+end. Oughtn't you to have them trimmed?
+
+SORIN. [Smoothing his beard] They are the tragedy of my existence. Even
+when I was young I always looked as if I were drunk, and all. Women have
+never liked me. [Sitting down] Why is my sister out of temper?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Why? Because she is jealous and bored. [Sitting down beside
+SORIN] She is not acting this evening, but Nina is, and so she has set
+herself against me, and against the performance of the play, and against
+the play itself, which she hates without ever having read it.
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] Does she, really?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, she is furious because Nina is going to have a
+success on this little stage. [Looking at his watch] My mother is a
+psychological curiosity. Without doubt brilliant and talented, capable
+of sobbing over a novel, of reciting all Nekrasoff's poetry by heart,
+and of nursing the sick like an angel of heaven, you should see what
+happens if any one begins praising Duse to her! She alone must be
+praised and written about, raved over, her marvellous acting in "La Dame
+aux Camelias" extolled to the skies. As she cannot get all that rubbish
+in the country, she grows peevish and cross, and thinks we are all
+against her, and to blame for it all. She is superstitious, too. She
+dreads burning three candles, and fears the thirteenth day of the month.
+Then she is stingy. I know for a fact that she has seventy thousand
+roubles in a bank at Odessa, but she is ready to burst into tears if you
+ask her to lend you a penny.
+
+SORIN. You have taken it into your head that your mother dislikes your
+play, and the thought of it has excited you, and all. Keep calm; your
+mother adores you.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Pulling a flower to pieces] She loves me, loves me not;
+loves--loves me not; loves--loves me not! [Laughing] You see, she
+doesn't love me, and why should she? She likes life and love and gay
+clothes, and I am already twenty-five years old; a sufficient reminder
+to her that she is no longer young. When I am away she is only
+thirty-two, in my presence she is forty-three, and she hates me for
+it. She knows, too, that I despise the modern stage. She adores it, and
+imagines that she is working on it for the benefit of humanity and her
+sacred art, but to me the theatre is merely the vehicle of convention
+and prejudice. When the curtain rises on that little three-walled room,
+when those mighty geniuses, those high-priests of art, show us people in
+the act of eating, drinking, loving, walking, and wearing their coats,
+and attempt to extract a moral from their insipid talk; when playwrights
+give us under a thousand different guises the same, same, same old
+stuff, then I must needs run from it, as Maupassant ran from the Eiffel
+Tower that was about to crush him by its vulgarity.
+
+SORIN. But we can't do without a theatre.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No, but we must have it under a new form. If we can't do
+that, let us rather not have it at all. [Looking at his watch] I love my
+mother, I love her devotedly, but I think she leads a stupid life. She
+always has this man of letters of hers on her mind, and the newspapers
+are always frightening her to death, and I am tired of it. Plain, human
+egoism sometimes speaks in my heart, and I regret that my mother is
+a famous actress. If she were an ordinary woman I think I should be
+a happier man. What could be more intolerable and foolish than my
+position, Uncle, when I find myself the only nonentity among a crowd of
+her guests, all celebrated authors and artists? I feel that they only
+endure me because I am her son. Personally I am nothing, nobody. I
+pulled through my third year at college by the skin of my teeth, as they
+say. I have neither money nor brains, and on my passport you may read
+that I am simply a citizen of Kiev. So was my father, but he was
+a well-known actor. When the celebrities that frequent my mother's
+drawing-room deign to notice me at all, I know they only look at me
+to measure my insignificance; I read their thoughts, and suffer from
+humiliation.
+
+SORIN. Tell me, by the way, what is Trigorin like? I can't understand
+him, he is always so silent.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Trigorin is clever, simple, well-mannered, and a little, I
+might say, melancholic in disposition. Though still under forty, he is
+surfeited with praise. As for his stories, they are--how shall I put
+it?--pleasing, full of talent, but if you have read Tolstoi or Zola you
+somehow don't enjoy Trigorin.
+
+SORIN. Do you know, my boy, I like literary men. I once passionately
+desired two things: to marry, and to become an author. I have succeeded
+in neither. It must be pleasant to be even an insignificant author.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Listening] I hear footsteps! [He embraces his uncle] I
+cannot live without her; even the sound of her footsteps is music to me.
+I am madly happy. [He goes quickly to meet NINA, who comes in at that
+moment] My enchantress! My girl of dreams!
+
+NINA. [Excitedly] It can't be that I am late? No, I am not late.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Kissing her hands] No, no, no!
+
+NINA. I have been in a fever all day, I was so afraid my father would
+prevent my coming, but he and my stepmother have just gone driving. The
+sky is clear, the moon is rising. How I hurried to get here! How I urged
+my horse to go faster and faster! [Laughing] I am _so_ glad to see you!
+[She shakes hands with SORIN.]
+
+SORIN. Oho! Your eyes look as if you had been crying. You mustn't do
+that.
+
+NINA. It is nothing, nothing. Do let us hurry. I must go in half an
+hour. No, no, for heaven's sake do not urge me to stay. My father
+doesn't know I am here.
+
+TREPLIEFF. As a matter of fact, it is time to begin now. I must call the
+audience.
+
+SORIN. Let me call them--and all--I am going this minute. [He goes
+toward the right, begins to sing "The Two Grenadiers," then stops.]
+I was singing that once when a fellow-lawyer said to me: "You have a
+powerful voice, sir." Then he thought a moment and added, "But it is a
+disagreeable one!" [He goes out laughing.]
+
+NINA. My father and his wife never will let me come here; they call this
+place Bohemia and are afraid I shall become an actress. But this lake
+attracts me as it does the gulls. My heart is full of you. [She glances
+about her.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. We are alone.
+
+NINA. Isn't that some one over there?
+
+TREPLIEFF. No. [They kiss one another.]
+
+NINA. What is that tree?
+
+TREPLIEFF. An elm.
+
+NINA. Why does it look so dark?
+
+TREPLIEFF. It is evening; everything looks dark now. Don't go away
+early, I implore you.
+
+NINA. I must.
+
+TREPLIEFF. What if I were to follow you, Nina? I shall stand in your
+garden all night with my eyes on your window.
+
+NINA. That would be impossible; the watchman would see you, and Treasure
+is not used to you yet, and would bark.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I love you.
+
+NINA. Hush!
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Listening to approaching footsteps] Who is that? Is it you,
+Jacob?
+
+JACOB. [On the stage] Yes, sir.
+
+TREPLIEFF. To your places then. The moon is rising; the play must
+commence.
+
+NINA. Yes, sir.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Is the alcohol ready? Is the sulphur ready? There must be
+fumes of sulphur in the air when the red eyes shine out. [To NINA] Go,
+now, everything is ready. Are you nervous?
+
+NINA. Yes, very. I am not so much afraid of your mother as I am of
+Trigorin. I am terrified and ashamed to act before him; he is so famous.
+Is he young?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes.
+
+NINA. What beautiful stories he writes!
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Coldly] I have never read any of them, so I can't say.
+
+NINA. Your play is very hard to act; there are no living characters in
+it.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Living characters! Life must be represented not as it is, but
+as it ought to be; as it appears in dreams.
+
+NINA. There is so little action; it seems more like a recitation. I
+think love should always come into every play.
+
+NINA and TREPLIEFF go up onto the little stage; PAULINA and DORN come
+in.
+
+PAULINA. It is getting damp. Go back and put on your goloshes.
+
+DORN. I am quite warm.
+
+PAULINA. You never will take care of yourself; you are quite obstinate
+about it, and yet you are a doctor, and know quite well that damp air is
+bad for you. You like to see me suffer, that's what it is. You sat out
+on the terrace all yesterday evening on purpose.
+
+DORN. [Sings]
+
+"Oh, tell me not that youth is wasted."
+
+PAULINA. You were so enchanted by the conversation of Madame Arkadina
+that you did not even notice the cold. Confess that you admire her.
+
+DORN. I am fifty-five years old.
+
+PAULINA. A trifle. That is not old for a man. You have kept your looks
+magnificently, and women still like you.
+
+DORN. What are you trying to tell me?
+
+PAULINA. You men are all ready to go down on your knees to an actress,
+all of you.
+
+DORN. [Sings]
+
+"Once more I stand before thee."
+
+It is only right that artists should be made much of by society and
+treated differently from, let us say, merchants. It is a kind of
+idealism.
+
+PAULINA. When women have loved you and thrown themselves at your head,
+has that been idealism?
+
+DORN. [Shrugging his shoulders] I can't say. There has been a great deal
+that was admirable in my relations with women. In me they liked, above
+all, the superior doctor. Ten years ago, you remember, I was the only
+decent doctor they had in this part of the country--and then, I have
+always acted like a man of honour.
+
+PAULINA. [Seizes his hand] Dearest!
+
+DORN. Be quiet! Here they come.
+
+ARKADINA comes in on SORIN'S arm; also TRIGORIN, SHAMRAEFF, MEDVIEDENKO,
+and MASHA.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. She acted most beautifully at the Poltava Fair in 1873; she
+was really magnificent. But tell me, too, where Tchadin the comedian is
+now? He was inimitable as Rasplueff, better than Sadofski. Where is he
+now?
+
+ARKADINA. Don't ask me where all those antediluvians are! I know nothing
+about them. [She sits down.]
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Sighing] Pashka Tchadin! There are none left like him. The
+stage is not what it was in his time. There were sturdy oaks growing on
+it then, where now but stumps remain.
+
+DORN. It is true that we have few dazzling geniuses these days, but, on
+the other hand, the average of acting is much higher.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. I cannot agree with you; however, that is a matter of taste,
+_de gustibus._
+
+Enter TREPLIEFF from behind the stage.
+
+ARKADINA. When will the play begin, my dear boy?
+
+TREPLIEFF. In a moment. I must ask you to have patience.
+
+ARKADINA. [Quoting from Hamlet] My son,
+
+     "Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;
+     And there I see such black grained spots
+     As will not leave their tinct."
+
+[A horn is blown behind the stage.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Attention, ladies and gentlemen! The play is about to begin.
+[A pause] I shall commence. [He taps the door with a stick, and speaks
+in a loud voice] O, ye time-honoured, ancient mists that drive at night
+across the surface of this lake, blind you our eyes with sleep, and show
+us in our dreams that which will be in twice ten thousand years!
+
+SORIN. There won't be anything in twice ten thousand years.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Then let them now show us that nothingness.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, let them--we are asleep.
+
+The curtain rises. A vista opens across the lake. The moon hangs low
+above the horizon and is reflected in the water. NINA, dressed in white,
+is seen seated on a great rock.
+
+NINA. All men and beasts, lions, eagles, and quails, horned stags,
+geese, spiders, silent fish that inhabit the waves, starfish from the
+sea, and creatures invisible to the eye--in one word, life--all, all
+life, completing the dreary round imposed upon it, has died out at last.
+A thousand years have passed since the earth last bore a living creature
+on her breast, and the unhappy moon now lights her lamp in vain. No
+longer are the cries of storks heard in the meadows, or the drone of
+beetles in the groves of limes. All is cold, cold. All is void, void,
+void. All is terrible, terrible--[A pause] The bodies of all living
+creatures have dropped to dust, and eternal matter has transformed them
+into stones and water and clouds; but their spirits have flowed together
+into one, and that great world-soul am I! In me is the spirit of the
+great Alexander, the spirit of Napoleon, of Caesar, of Shakespeare,
+and of the tiniest leech that swims. In me the consciousness of man has
+joined hands with the instinct of the animal; I understand all, all,
+all, and each life lives again in me.
+
+[The will-o-the-wisps flicker out along the lake shore.]
+
+ARKADINA. [Whispers] What decadent rubbish is this?
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Imploringly] Mother!
+
+NINA. I am alone. Once in a hundred years my lips are opened, my voice
+echoes mournfully across the desert earth, and no one hears. And you,
+poor lights of the marsh, you do not hear me. You are engendered at
+sunset in the putrid mud, and flit wavering about the lake till dawn,
+unconscious, unreasoning, unwarmed by the breath of life. Satan, father
+of eternal matter, trembling lest the spark of life should glow in you,
+has ordered an unceasing movement of the atoms that compose you, and so
+you shift and change for ever. I, the spirit of the universe, I alone
+am immutable and eternal. [A pause] Like a captive in a dungeon deep and
+void, I know not where I am, nor what awaits me. One thing only is not
+hidden from me: in my fierce and obstinate battle with Satan, the source
+of the forces of matter, I am destined to be victorious in the end.
+Matter and spirit will then be one at last in glorious harmony, and the
+reign of freedom will begin on earth. But this can only come to pass by
+slow degrees, when after countless eons the moon and earth and shining
+Sirius himself shall fall to dust. Until that hour, oh, horror! horror!
+horror! [A pause. Two glowing red points are seen shining across the
+lake] Satan, my mighty foe, advances; I see his dread and lurid eyes.
+
+ARKADINA. I smell sulphur. Is that done on purpose?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes.
+
+ARKADINA. Oh, I see; that is part of the effect.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Mother!
+
+NINA. He longs for man--
+
+PAULINA. [To DORN] You have taken off your hat again! Put it on, you
+will catch cold.
+
+ARKADINA. The doctor has taken off his hat to Satan father of eternal
+matter--
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Loudly and angrily] Enough of this! There's an end to the
+performance. Down with the curtain!
+
+ARKADINA. Why, what are you so angry about?
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Stamping his foot] The curtain; down with it! [The curtain
+falls] Excuse me, I forgot that only a chosen few might write plays or
+act them. I have infringed the monopoly. I--I---
+
+He would like to say more, but waves his hand instead, and goes out to
+the left.
+
+ARKADINA. What is the matter with him?
+
+SORIN. You should not handle youthful egoism so roughly, sister.
+
+ARKADINA. What did I say to him?
+
+SORIN. You hurt his feelings.
+
+ARKADINA. But he told me himself that this was all in fun, so I treated
+his play as if it were a comedy.
+
+SORIN. Nevertheless---
+
+ARKADINA. Now it appears that he has produced a masterpiece, if you
+please! I suppose it was not meant to amuse us at all, but that he
+arranged the performance and fumigated us with sulphur to demonstrate to
+us how plays should be written, and what is worth acting. I am tired
+of him. No one could stand his constant thrusts and sallies. He is a
+wilful, egotistic boy.
+
+SORIN. He had hoped to give you pleasure.
+
+ARKADINA. Is that so? I notice, though, that he did not choose an
+ordinary play, but forced his decadent trash on us. I am willing to
+listen to any raving, so long as it is not meant seriously, but in
+showing us this, he pretended to be introducing us to a new form of art,
+and inaugurating a new era. In my opinion, there was nothing new about
+it, it was simply an exhibition of bad temper.
+
+TRIGORIN. Everybody must write as he feels, and as best he may.
+
+ARKADINA. Let him write as he feels and can, but let him spare me his
+nonsense.
+
+DORN. Thou art angry, O Jove!
+
+ARKADINA. I am a woman, not Jove. [She lights a cigarette] And I am not
+angry, I am only sorry to see a young man foolishly wasting his time. I
+did not mean to hurt him.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. No one has any ground for separating life from matter, as
+the spirit may well consist of the union of material atoms. [Excitedly,
+to TRIGORIN] Some day you should write a play, and put on the stage the
+life of a schoolmaster. It is a hard, hard life.
+
+ARKADINA. I agree with you, but do not let us talk about plays or atoms
+now. This is such a lovely evening. Listen to the singing, friends, how
+sweet it sounds.
+
+PAULINA. Yes, they are singing across the water. [A pause.]
+
+ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] Sit down beside me here. Ten or fifteen years
+ago we had music and singing on this lake almost all night. There are
+six houses on its shores. All was noise and laughter and romance then,
+such romance! The young star and idol of them all in those days was this
+man here, [Nods toward DORN] Doctor Eugene Dorn. He is fascinating now,
+but he was irresistible then. But my conscience is beginning to
+prick me. Why did I hurt my poor boy? I am uneasy about him. [Loudly]
+Constantine! Constantine!
+
+MASHA. Shall I go and find him?
+
+ARKADINA. If you please, my dear.
+
+MASHA. [Goes off to the left, calling] Mr. Constantine! Oh, Mr.
+Constantine!
+
+NINA. [Comes in from behind the stage] I see that the play will never be
+finished, so now I can go home. Good evening. [She kisses ARKADINA and
+PAULINA.]
+
+SORIN. Bravo! Bravo!
+
+ARKADINA. Bravo! Bravo! We were quite charmed by your acting. With your
+looks and such a lovely voice it is a crime for you to hide yourself
+in the country. You must be very talented. It is your duty to go on the
+stage, do you hear me?
+
+NINA. It is the dream of my life, which will never come true.
+
+ARKADINA. Who knows? Perhaps it will. But let me present Monsieur Boris
+Trigorin.
+
+NINA. I am delighted to meet you. [Embarrassed] I have read all your
+books.
+
+ARKADINA. [Drawing NINA down beside her] Don't be afraid of him, dear.
+He is a simple, good-natured soul, even if he is a celebrity. See, he is
+embarrassed himself.
+
+DORN. Couldn't the curtain be raised now? It is depressing to have it
+down.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Loudly] Jacob, my man! Raise the curtain!
+
+NINA. [To TRIGORIN] It was a curious play, wasn't it?
+
+TRIGORIN. Very. I couldn't understand it at all, but I watched it with
+the greatest pleasure because you acted with such sincerity, and the
+setting was beautiful. [A pause] There must be a lot of fish in this
+lake.
+
+NINA. Yes, there are.
+
+TRIGORIN. I love fishing. I know of nothing pleasanter than to sit on a
+lake shore in the evening with one's eyes on a floating cork.
+
+NINA. Why, I should think that for one who has tasted the joys of
+creation, no other pleasure could exist.
+
+ARKADINA. Don't talk like that. He always begins to flounder when people
+say nice things to him.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. I remember when the famous Silva was singing once in the
+Opera House at Moscow, how delighted we all were when he took the low C.
+Well, you can imagine our astonishment when one of the church cantors,
+who happened to be sitting in the gallery, suddenly boomed out: "Bravo,
+Silva!" a whole octave lower. Like this: [In a deep bass voice] "Bravo,
+Silva!" The audience was left breathless. [A pause.]
+
+DORN. An angel of silence is flying over our heads.
+
+NINA. I must go. Good-bye.
+
+ARKADINA. Where to? Where must you go so early? We shan't allow it.
+
+NINA. My father is waiting for me.
+
+ARKADINA. How cruel he is, really. [They kiss each other] Then I suppose
+we can't keep you, but it is very hard indeed to let you go.
+
+NINA. If you only knew how hard it is for me to leave you all.
+
+ARKADINA. Somebody must see you home, my pet.
+
+NINA. [Startled] No, no!
+
+SORIN. [Imploringly] Don't go!
+
+NINA. I must.
+
+SORIN. Stay just one hour more, and all. Come now, really, you know.
+
+NINA. [Struggling against her desire to stay; through her tears] No, no,
+I can't. [She shakes hands with him and quickly goes out.]
+
+ARKADINA. An unlucky girl! They say that her mother left the whole of an
+immense fortune to her husband, and now the child is penniless because
+the father has already willed everything away to his second wife. It is
+pitiful.
+
+DORN. Yes, her papa is a perfect beast, and I don't mind saying so--it
+is what he deserves.
+
+SORIN. [Rubbing his chilled hands] Come, let us go in; the night is
+damp, and my legs are aching.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, you act as if they were turned to stone; you can hardly
+move them. Come, you unfortunate old man. [She takes his arm.]
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Offering his arm to his wife] Permit me, madame.
+
+SORIN. I hear that dog howling again. Won't you please have it
+unchained, Shamraeff?
+
+SHAMRAEFF. No, I really can't, sir. The granary is full of millet, and
+I am afraid thieves might break in if the dog were not there. [Walking
+beside MEDVIEDENKO] Yes, a whole octave lower: "Bravo, Silva!" and he
+wasn't a singer either, just a simple church cantor.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. What salary does the church pay its singers? [All go out
+except DORN.]
+
+DORN. I may have lost my judgment and my wits, but I must confess I
+liked that play. There was something in it. When the girl spoke of her
+solitude and the Devil's eyes gleamed across the lake, I felt my hands
+shaking with excitement. It was so fresh and naive. But here he comes;
+let me say something pleasant to him.
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in.
+
+TREPLIEFF. All gone already?
+
+DORN. I am here.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Masha has been yelling for me all over the park. An
+insufferable creature.
+
+DORN. Constantine, your play delighted me. It was strange, of course,
+and I did not hear the end, but it made a deep impression on me. You
+have a great deal of talent, and must persevere in your work.
+
+TREPLIEFF seizes his hand and squeezes it hard, then kisses him
+impetuously.
+
+DORN. Tut, tut! how excited you are. Your eyes are full of tears. Listen
+to me. You chose your subject in the realm of abstract thought, and you
+did quite right. A work of art should invariably embody some lofty idea.
+Only that which is seriously meant can ever be beautiful. How pale you
+are!
+
+TREPLIEFF. So you advise me to persevere?
+
+DORN. Yes, but use your talent to express only deep and eternal truths.
+I have led a quiet life, as you know, and am a contented man, but if I
+should ever experience the exaltation that an artist feels during his
+moments of creation, I think I should spurn this material envelope of my
+soul and everything connected with it, and should soar away into heights
+above this earth.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I beg your pardon, but where is Nina?
+
+DORN. And yet another thing: every work of art should have a definite
+object in view. You should know why you are writing, for if you follow
+the road of art without a goal before your eyes, you will lose yourself,
+and your genius will be your ruin.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Impetuously] Where is Nina?
+
+DORN. She has gone home.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [In despair] Gone home? What shall I do? I want to see her; I
+must see her! I shall follow her.
+
+DORN. My dear boy, keep quiet.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I am going. I must go.
+
+MASHA comes in.
+
+MASHA. Your mother wants you to come in, Mr. Constantine. She is waiting
+for you, and is very uneasy.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Tell her I have gone away. And for heaven's sake, all of you,
+leave me alone! Go away! Don't follow me about!
+
+DORN. Come, come, old chap, don't act like this; it isn't kind at all.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Through his tears] Good-bye, doctor, and thank you.
+
+TREPLIEFF goes out.
+
+DORN. [Sighing] Ah, youth, youth!
+
+MASHA. It is always "Youth, youth," when there is nothing else to be
+said.
+
+She takes snuff. DORN takes the snuff-box out of her hands and flings it
+into the bushes.
+
+DORN. Don't do that, it is horrid. [A pause] I hear music in the house.
+I must go in.
+
+MASHA. Wait a moment.
+
+DORN. What do you want?
+
+MASHA. Let me tell you again. I feel like talking. [She grows more and
+more excited] I do not love my father, but my heart turns to you. For
+some reason, I feel with all my soul that you are near to me. Help me!
+Help me, or I shall do something foolish and mock at my life, and ruin
+it. I am at the end of my strength.
+
+DORN. What is the matter? How can I help you?
+
+MASHA. I am in agony. No one, no one can imagine how I suffer. [She lays
+her head on his shoulder and speaks softly] I love Constantine.
+
+DORN. Oh, how excitable you all are! And how much love there is about
+this lake of spells! [Tenderly] But what can I do for you, my child?
+What? What?
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II
+
+_The lawn in front of SORIN'S house. The house stands in the background,
+on a broad terrace. The lake, brightly reflecting the rays of the sun,
+lies to the left. There are flower-beds here and there. It is noon;
+the day is hot. ARKADINA, DORN, and MASHA are sitting on a bench on the
+lawn, in the shade of an old linden. An open book is lying on DORN'S
+knees_.
+
+ARKADINA. [To MASHA] Come, get up. [They both get up] Stand beside me.
+You are twenty-two and I am almost twice your age. Tell me, Doctor,
+which of us is the younger looking?
+
+DORN. You are, of course.
+
+ARKADINA. You see! Now why is it? Because I work; my heart and mind are
+always busy, whereas you never move off the same spot. You don't live.
+It is a maxim of mine never to look into the future. I never admit the
+thought of old age or death, and just accept what comes to me.
+
+MASHA. I feel as if I had been in the world a thousand years, and I
+trail my life behind me like an endless scarf. Often I have no desire
+to live at all. Of course that is foolish. One ought to pull oneself
+together and shake off such nonsense.
+
+DORN. [Sings softly]
+
+"Tell her, oh flowers--"
+
+ARKADINA. And then I keep myself as correct-looking as an Englishman. I
+am always well-groomed, as the saying is, and carefully dressed, with my
+hair neatly arranged. Do you think I should ever permit myself to leave
+the house half-dressed, with untidy hair? Certainly not! I have kept my
+looks by never letting myself slump as some women do. [She puts her arms
+akimbo, and walks up and down on the lawn] See me, tripping on tiptoe
+like a fifteen-year-old girl.
+
+DORN. I see. Nevertheless, I shall continue my reading. [He takes up his
+book] Let me see, we had come to the grain-dealer and the rats.
+
+ARKADINA. And the rats. Go on. [She sits down] No, give me the book, it
+is my turn to read. [She takes the book and looks for the place] And
+the rats. Ah, here it is. [She reads] "It is as dangerous for society to
+attract and indulge authors as it is for grain-dealers to raise rats
+in their granaries. Yet society loves authors. And so, when a woman
+has found one whom she wishes to make her own, she lays siege to him
+by indulging and flattering him." That may be so in France, but it
+certainly is not so in Russia. We do not carry out a programme like
+that. With us, a woman is usually head over ears in love with an author
+before she attempts to lay siege to him. You have an example before your
+eyes, in me and Trigorin.
+
+SORIN comes in leaning on a cane, with NINA beside him. MEDVIEDENKO
+follows, pushing an arm-chair.
+
+SORIN. [In a caressing voice, as if speaking to a child] So we are happy
+now, eh? We are enjoying ourselves to-day, are we? Father and stepmother
+have gone away to Tver, and we are free for three whole days!
+
+NINA. [Sits down beside ARKADINA, and embraces her] I am so happy. I
+belong to you now.
+
+SORIN. [Sits down in his arm-chair] She looks lovely to-day.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, she has put on her prettiest dress, and looks sweet. That
+was nice of you. [She kisses NINA] But we mustn't praise her too much;
+we shall spoil her. Where is Trigorin?
+
+NINA. He is fishing off the wharf.
+
+ARKADINA. I wonder he isn't bored. [She begins to read again.]
+
+NINA. What are you reading?
+
+ARKADINA. "On the Water," by Maupassant. [She reads a few lines to
+herself] But the rest is neither true nor interesting. [She lays down
+the book] I am uneasy about my son. Tell me, what is the matter with
+him? Why is he so dull and depressed lately? He spends all his days on
+the lake, and I scarcely ever see him any more.
+
+MASHA. His heart is heavy. [Timidly, to NINA] Please recite something
+from his play.
+
+NINA. [Shrugging her shoulders] Shall I? Is it so interesting?
+
+MASHA. [With suppressed rapture] When he recites, his eyes shine and his
+face grows pale. His voice is beautiful and sad, and he has the ways of
+a poet.
+
+SORIN begins to snore.
+
+DORN. Pleasant dreams!
+
+ARKADINA. Peter!
+
+SORIN. Eh?
+
+ARKADINA. Are you asleep?
+
+SORIN. Not a bit of it. [A pause.]
+
+ARKADINA. You don't do a thing for your health, brother, but you really
+ought to.
+
+DORN. The idea of doing anything for one's health at sixty-five!
+
+SORIN. One still wants to live at sixty-five.
+
+DORN. [Crossly] Ho! Take some camomile tea.
+
+ARKADINA. I think a journey to some watering-place would be good for
+him.
+
+DORN. Why, yes; he might go as well as not.
+
+ARKADINA. You don't understand.
+
+DORN. There is nothing to understand in this case; it is quite clear.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. He ought to give up smoking.
+
+SORIN. What nonsense! [A pause.]
+
+DORN. No, that is not nonsense. Wine and tobacco destroy the
+individuality. After a cigar or a glass of vodka you are no longer Peter
+Sorin, but Peter Sorin plus somebody else. Your ego breaks in two: you
+begin to think of yourself in the third person.
+
+SORIN. It is easy for you to condemn smoking and drinking; you have
+known what life is, but what about me? I have served in the Department
+of Justice for twenty-eight years, but I have never lived, I have never
+had any experiences. You are satiated with life, and that is why you
+have an inclination for philosophy, but I want to live, and that is why
+I drink my wine for dinner and smoke cigars, and all.
+
+DORN. One must take life seriously, and to take a cure at sixty-five
+and regret that one did not have more pleasure in youth is, forgive my
+saying so, trifling.
+
+MASHA. It must be lunch-time. [She walks away languidly, with a dragging
+step] My foot has gone to sleep.
+
+DORN. She is going to have a couple of drinks before lunch.
+
+SORIN. The poor soul is unhappy.
+
+DORN. That is a trifle, your honour.
+
+SORIN. You judge her like a man who has obtained all he wants in life.
+
+ARKADINA. Oh, what could be duller than this dear tedium of the country?
+The air is hot and still, nobody does anything but sit and philosophise
+about life. It is pleasant, my friends, to sit and listen to you here,
+but I had rather a thousand times sit alone in the room of a hotel
+learning a role by heart.
+
+NINA. [With enthusiasm] You are quite right. I understand how you feel.
+
+SORIN. Of course it is pleasanter to live in town. One can sit in one's
+library with a telephone at one's elbow, no one comes in without being
+first announced by the footman, the streets are full of cabs, and all---
+
+DORN. [Sings]
+
+"Tell her, oh flowers---"
+
+SHAMRAEFF comes in, followed by PAULINA.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Here they are. How do you do? [He kisses ARKADINA'S hand and
+then NINA'S] I am delighted to see you looking so well. [To ARKADINA] My
+wife tells me that you mean to go to town with her to-day. Is that so?
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, that is what I had planned to do.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Hm--that is splendid, but how do you intend to get there,
+madam? We are hauling rye to-day, and all the men are busy. What horses
+would you take?
+
+ARKADINA. What horses? How do I know what horses we shall have?
+
+SORIN. Why, we have the carriage horses.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. The carriage horses! And where am I to find the harness for
+them? This is astonishing! My dear madam, I have the greatest respect
+for your talents, and would gladly sacrifice ten years of my life for
+you, but I cannot let you have any horses to-day.
+
+ARKADINA. But if I must go to town? What an extraordinary state of
+affairs!
+
+SHAMRAEFF. You do not know, madam, what it is to run a farm.
+
+ARKADINA. [In a burst of anger] That is an old story! Under these
+circumstances I shall go back to Moscow this very day. Order a carriage
+for me from the village, or I shall go to the station on foot.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [losing his temper] Under these circumstances I resign my
+position. You must find yourself another manager. [He goes out.]
+
+ARKADINA. It is like this every summer: every summer I am insulted here.
+I shall never set foot here again.
+
+She goes out to the left, in the direction of the wharf. In a few
+minutes she is seen entering the house, followed by TRIGORIN, who
+carries a bucket and fishing-rod.
+
+SORIN. [Losing his temper] What the deuce did he mean by his impudence?
+I want all the horses brought here at once!
+
+NINA. [To PAULINA] How could he refuse anything to Madame Arkadina, the
+famous actress? Is not every wish, every caprice even, of hers, more
+important than any farm work? This is incredible.
+
+PAULINA. [In despair] What can I do about it? Put yourself in my place
+and tell me what I can do.
+
+SORIN. [To NINA] Let us go and find my sister, and all beg her not to
+go. [He looks in the direction in which SHAMRAEFF went out] That man is
+insufferable; a regular tyrant.
+
+NINA. [Preventing him from getting up] Sit still, sit still, and let
+us wheel you. [She and MEDVIEDENKO push the chair before them] This is
+terrible!
+
+SORIN. Yes, yes, it is terrible; but he won't leave. I shall have a talk
+with him in a moment. [They go out. Only DORN and PAULINA are left.]
+
+DORN. How tiresome people are! Your husband deserves to be thrown out of
+here neck and crop, but it will all end by this old granny Sorin and his
+sister asking the man's pardon. See if it doesn't.
+
+PAULINA. He has sent the carriage horses into the fields too. These
+misunderstandings occur every day. If you only knew how they excite me!
+I am ill; see! I am trembling all over! I cannot endure his rough ways.
+[Imploringly] Eugene, my darling, my beloved, take me to you. Our time
+is short; we are no longer young; let us end deception and concealment,
+even though it is only at the end of our lives. [A pause.]
+
+DORN. I am fifty-five years old. It is too late now for me to change my
+ways of living.
+
+PAULINA. I know that you refuse me because there are other women who are
+near to you, and you cannot take everybody. I understand. Excuse me--I
+see I am only bothering you.
+
+NINA is seen near the house picking a bunch of flowers.
+
+DORN. No, it is all right.
+
+PAULINA. I am tortured by jealousy. Of course you are a doctor and
+cannot escape from women. I understand.
+
+DORN. [TO NINA, who comes toward him] How are things in there?
+
+NINA. Madame Arkadina is crying, and Sorin is having an attack of
+asthma.
+
+DORN. Let us go and give them both some camomile tea.
+
+NINA. [Hands him the bunch of flowers] Here are some flowers for you.
+
+DORN. Thank you. [He goes into the house.]
+
+PAULINA. [Following him] What pretty flowers! [As they reach the house
+she says in a low voice] Give me those flowers! Give them to me!
+
+DORN hands her the flowers; she tears them to pieces and flings them
+away. They both go into the house.
+
+NINA. [Alone] How strange to see a famous actress weeping, and for
+such a trifle! Is it not strange, too, that a famous author should sit
+fishing all day? He is the idol of the public, the papers are full
+of him, his photograph is for sale everywhere, his works have been
+translated into many foreign languages, and yet he is overjoyed if he
+catches a couple of minnows. I always thought famous people were distant
+and proud; I thought they despised the common crowd which exalts
+riches and birth, and avenged themselves on it by dazzling it with the
+inextinguishable honour and glory of their fame. But here I see them
+weeping and playing cards and flying into passions like everybody else.
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in without a hat on, carrying a gun and a dead seagull.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Are you alone here?
+
+NINA. Yes.
+
+TREPLIEFF lays the sea-gull at her feet.
+
+NINA. What do you mean by this?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I was base enough to-day to kill this gull. I lay it at your
+feet.
+
+NINA. What is happening to you? [She picks up the gull and stands
+looking at it.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. [After a pause] So shall I soon end my own life.
+
+NINA. You have changed so that I fail to recognise you.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, I have changed since the time when I ceased to recognise
+you. You have failed me; your look is cold; you do not like to have me
+near you.
+
+NINA. You have grown so irritable lately, and you talk so darkly and
+symbolically that you must forgive me if I fail to follow you. I am too
+simple to understand you.
+
+TREPLIEFF. All this began when my play failed so dismally. A woman never
+can forgive failure. I have burnt the manuscript to the last page. Oh,
+if you could only fathom my unhappiness! Your estrangement is to me
+terrible, incredible; it is as if I had suddenly waked to find this
+lake dried up and sunk into the earth. You say you are too simple to
+understand me; but, oh, what is there to understand? You disliked
+my play, you have no faith in my powers, you already think of me as
+commonplace and worthless, as many are. [Stamping his foot] How well
+I can understand your feelings! And that understanding is to me like
+a dagger in the brain. May it be accursed, together with my stupidity,
+which sucks my life-blood like a snake! [He sees TRIGORIN, who
+approaches reading a book] There comes real genius, striding along like
+another Hamlet, and with a book, too. [Mockingly] "Words, words, words."
+You feel the warmth of that sun already, you smile, your eyes melt and
+glow liquid in its rays. I shall not disturb you. [He goes out.]
+
+TRIGORIN. [Making notes in his book] Takes snuff and drinks vodka;
+always wears black dresses; is loved by a schoolteacher--
+
+NINA. How do you do?
+
+TRIGORIN. How are you, Miss Nina? Owing to an unforeseen development of
+circumstances, it seems that we are leaving here today. You and I shall
+probably never see each other again, and I am sorry for it. I seldom
+meet a young and pretty girl now; I can hardly remember how it feels
+to be nineteen, and the young girls in my books are seldom living
+characters. I should like to change places with you, if but for an hour,
+to look out at the world through your eyes, and so find out what sort of
+a little person you are.
+
+NINA. And I should like to change places with you.
+
+TRIGORIN. Why?
+
+NINA. To find out how a famous genius feels. What is it like to be
+famous? What sensations does it give you?
+
+TRIGORIN. What sensations? I don't believe it gives any. [Thoughtfully]
+Either you exaggerate my fame, or else, if it exists, all I can say is
+that one simply doesn't feel fame in any way.
+
+NINA. But when you read about yourself in the papers?
+
+TRIGORIN. If the critics praise me, I am happy; if they condemn me, I am
+out of sorts for the next two days.
+
+NINA. This is a wonderful world. If you only knew how I envy you! Men
+are born to different destinies. Some dully drag a weary, useless life
+behind them, lost in the crowd, unhappy, while to one out of a million,
+as to you, for instance, comes a bright destiny full of interest and
+meaning. You are lucky.
+
+TRIGORIN. I, lucky? [He shrugs his shoulders] H-m--I hear you talking
+about fame, and happiness, and bright destinies, and those fine words of
+yours mean as much to me--forgive my saying so--as sweetmeats do, which
+I never eat. You are very young, and very kind.
+
+NINA. Your life is beautiful.
+
+TRIGORIN. I see nothing especially lovely about it. [He looks at his
+watch] Excuse me, I must go at once, and begin writing again. I am in a
+hurry. [He laughs] You have stepped on my pet corn, as they say, and I
+am getting excited, and a little cross. Let us discuss this bright and
+beautiful life of mine, though. [After a few moments' thought] Violent
+obsessions sometimes lay hold of a man: he may, for instance, think day
+and night of nothing but the moon. I have such a moon. Day and night I
+am held in the grip of one besetting thought, to write, write, write!
+Hardly have I finished one book than something urges me to write
+another, and then a third, and then a fourth--I write ceaselessly. I am,
+as it were, on a treadmill. I hurry for ever from one story to another,
+and can't help myself. Do you see anything bright and beautiful in that?
+Oh, it is a wild life! Even now, thrilled as I am by talking to you, I
+do not forget for an instant that an unfinished story is awaiting me. My
+eye falls on that cloud there, which has the shape of a grand piano; I
+instantly make a mental note that I must remember to mention in my story
+a cloud floating by that looked like a grand piano. I smell heliotrope;
+I mutter to myself: a sickly smell, the colour worn by widows; I must
+remember that in writing my next description of a summer evening. I
+catch an idea in every sentence of yours or of my own, and hasten to
+lock all these treasures in my literary store-room, thinking that some
+day they may be useful to me. As soon as I stop working I rush off to
+the theatre or go fishing, in the hope that I may find oblivion there,
+but no! Some new subject for a story is sure to come rolling through my
+brain like an iron cannonball. I hear my desk calling, and have to go
+back to it and begin to write, write, write, once more. And so it
+goes for everlasting. I cannot escape myself, though I feel that I am
+consuming my life. To prepare the honey I feed to unknown crowds, I am
+doomed to brush the bloom from my dearest flowers, to tear them from
+their stems, and trample the roots that bore them under foot. Am I not
+a madman? Should I not be treated by those who know me as one mentally
+diseased? Yet it is always the same, same old story, till I begin to
+think that all this praise and admiration must be a deception, that I am
+being hoodwinked because they know I am crazy, and I sometimes tremble
+lest I should be grabbed from behind and whisked off to a lunatic
+asylum. The best years of my youth were made one continual agony for me
+by my writing. A young author, especially if at first he does not make
+a success, feels clumsy, ill-at-ease, and superfluous in the world. His
+nerves are all on edge and stretched to the point of breaking; he is
+irresistibly attracted to literary and artistic people, and hovers about
+them unknown and unnoticed, fearing to look them bravely in the eye,
+like a man with a passion for gambling, whose money is all gone. I
+did not know my readers, but for some reason I imagined they were
+distrustful and unfriendly; I was mortally afraid of the public, and
+when my first play appeared, it seemed to me as if all the dark eyes in
+the audience were looking at it with enmity, and all the blue ones with
+cold indifference. Oh, how terrible it was! What agony!
+
+NINA. But don't your inspiration and the act of creation give you
+moments of lofty happiness?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes. Writing is a pleasure to me, and so is reading the
+proofs, but no sooner does a book leave the press than it becomes odious
+to me; it is not what I meant it to be; I made a mistake to write it at
+all; I am provoked and discouraged. Then the public reads it and says:
+"Yes, it is clever and pretty, but not nearly as good as Tolstoi," or
+"It is a lovely thing, but not as good as Turgenieff's 'Fathers and
+Sons,'" and so it will always be. To my dying day I shall hear people
+say: "Clever and pretty; clever and pretty," and nothing more; and when
+I am gone, those that knew me will say as they pass my grave: "Here lies
+Trigorin, a clever writer, but he was not as good as Turgenieff."
+
+NINA. You must excuse me, but I decline to understand what you are
+talking about. The fact is, you have been spoilt by your success.
+
+TRIGORIN. What success have I had? I have never pleased myself; as
+a writer, I do not like myself at all. The trouble is that I am made
+giddy, as it were, by the fumes of my brain, and often hardly know what
+I am writing. I love this lake, these trees, the blue heaven; nature's
+voice speaks to me and wakes a feeling of passion in my heart, and I
+am overcome by an uncontrollable desire to write. But I am not only
+a painter of landscapes, I am a man of the city besides. I love my
+country, too, and her people; I feel that, as a writer, it is my duty to
+speak of their sorrows, of their future, also of science, of the rights
+of man, and so forth. So I write on every subject, and the public hounds
+me on all sides, sometimes in anger, and I race and dodge like a fox
+with a pack of hounds on his trail. I see life and knowledge flitting
+away before me. I am left behind them like a peasant who has missed his
+train at a station, and finally I come back to the conclusion that all
+I am fit for is to describe landscapes, and that whatever else I attempt
+rings abominably false.
+
+NINA. You work too hard to realise the importance of your writings. What
+if you are discontented with yourself? To others you appear a great and
+splendid man. If I were a writer like you I should devote my whole life
+to the service of the Russian people, knowing at the same time that
+their welfare depended on their power to rise to the heights I had
+attained, and the people should send me before them in a chariot of
+triumph.
+
+TRIGORIN. In a chariot? Do you think I am Agamemnon? [They both smile.]
+
+NINA. For the bliss of being a writer or an actress I could endure want,
+and disillusionment, and the hatred of my friends, and the pangs of my
+own dissatisfaction with myself; but I should demand in return fame,
+real, resounding fame! [She covers her face with her hands] Whew! My
+head reels!
+
+THE VOICE OF ARKADINA. [From inside the house] Boris! Boris!
+
+TRIGORIN. She is calling me, probably to come and pack, but I don't want
+to leave this place. [His eyes rest on the lake] What a blessing such
+beauty is!
+
+NINA. Do you see that house there, on the far shore?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes.
+
+NINA. That was my dead mother's home. I was born there, and have lived
+all my life beside this lake. I know every little island in it.
+
+TRIGORIN. This is a beautiful place to live. [He catches sight of the
+dead sea-gull] What is that?
+
+NINA. A gull. Constantine shot it.
+
+TRIGORIN. What a lovely bird! Really, I can't bear to go away. Can't you
+persuade Irina to stay? [He writes something in his note-book.]
+
+NINA. What are you writing?
+
+TRIGORIN. Nothing much, only an idea that occurred to me. [He puts the
+book back in his pocket] An idea for a short story. A young girl grows
+up on the shores of a lake, as you have. She loves the lake as the gulls
+do, and is as happy and free as they. But a man sees her who chances to
+come that way, and he destroys her out of idleness, as this gull here
+has been destroyed. [A pause. ARKADINA appears at one of the windows.]
+
+ARKADINA. Boris! Where are you?
+
+TRIGORIN. I am coming this minute.
+
+He goes toward the house, looking back at NINA. ARKADINA remains at the
+window.
+
+TRIGORIN. What do you want?
+
+ARKADINA. We are not going away, after all.
+
+TRIGORIN goes into the house. NINA comes forward and stands lost in
+thought.
+
+NINA. It is a dream!
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III
+
+_The dining-room of SORIN'S house. Doors open out of it to the right
+and left. A table stands in the centre of the room. Trunks and boxes
+encumber the floor, and preparations for departure are evident. TRIGORIN
+is sitting at a table eating his breakfast, and MASHA is standing beside
+him_.
+
+MASHA. I am telling you all these things because you write books and
+they may be useful to you. I tell you honestly, I should not have lived
+another day if he had wounded himself fatally. Yet I am courageous; I
+have decided to tear this love of mine out of my heart by the roots.
+
+TRIGORIN. How will you do it?
+
+MASHA. By marrying Medviedenko.
+
+TRIGORIN. The school-teacher?
+
+MASHA. Yes.
+
+TRIGORIN. I don't see the necessity for that.
+
+MASHA. Oh, if you knew what it is to love without hope for years and
+years, to wait for ever for something that will never come! I shall not
+marry for love, but marriage will at least be a change, and will bring
+new cares to deaden the memories of the past. Shall we have another
+drink?
+
+TRIGORIN. Haven't you had enough?
+
+MASHA. Fiddlesticks! [She fills a glass] Don't look at me with that
+expression on your face. Women drink oftener than you imagine, but most
+of them do it in secret, and not openly, as I do. They do indeed, and
+it is always either vodka or brandy. [They touch glasses] To your good
+health! You are so easy to get on with that I am sorry to see you go.
+[They drink.]
+
+TRIGORIN. And I am sorry to leave.
+
+MASHA. You should ask her to stay.
+
+TRIGORIN. She would not do that now. Her son has been behaving
+outrageously. First he attempted suicide, and now I hear he is going
+to challenge me to a duel, though what his provocation may be I can't
+imagine. He is always sulking and sneering and preaching about a new
+form of art, as if the field of art were not large enough to accommodate
+both old and new without the necessity of jostling.
+
+MASHA. It is jealousy. However, that is none of my business. [A pause.
+JACOB walks through the room carrying a trunk; NINA comes in and stands
+by the window] That schoolteacher of mine is none too clever, but he
+is very good, poor man, and he loves me dearly, and I am sorry for him.
+However, let me say good-bye and wish you a pleasant journey. Remember
+me kindly in your thoughts. [She shakes hands with him] Thanks for your
+goodwill. Send me your books, and be sure to write something in them;
+nothing formal, but simply this: "To Masha, who, forgetful of her
+origin, for some unknown reason is living in this world." Good-bye. [She
+goes out.]
+
+NINA. [Holding out her closed hand to TRIGORIN] Is it odd or even?
+
+TRIGORIN. Even.
+
+NINA. [With a sigh] No, it is odd. I had only one pea in my hand. I
+wanted to see whether I was to become an actress or not. If only some
+one would advise me what to do!
+
+TRIGORIN. One cannot give advice in a case like this. [A pause.]
+
+NINA. We shall soon part, perhaps never to meet again. I should like you
+to accept this little medallion as a remembrance of me. I have had your
+initials engraved on it, and on this side is the name of one of your
+books: "Days and Nights."
+
+TRIGORIN. How sweet of you! [He kisses the medallion] It is a lovely
+present.
+
+NINA. Think of me sometimes.
+
+TRIGORIN. I shall never forget you. I shall always remember you as I saw
+you that bright day--do you recall it?--a week ago, when you wore your
+light dress, and we talked together, and the white seagull lay on the
+bench beside us.
+
+NINA. [Lost in thought] Yes, the sea-gull. [A pause] I beg you to let me
+see you alone for two minutes before you go.
+
+She goes out to the left. At the same moment ARKADINA comes in from the
+right, followed by SORIN in a long coat, with his orders on his breast,
+and by JACOB, who is busy packing.
+
+ARKADINA. Stay here at home, you poor old man. How could you pay visits
+with that rheumatism of yours? [To TRIGORIN] Who left the room just now,
+was it Nina?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes.
+
+ARKADINA. I beg your pardon; I am afraid we interrupted you. [She sits
+down] I think everything is packed. I am absolutely exhausted.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Reading the inscription on the medallion] "Days and Nights,
+page 121, lines 11 and 12."
+
+JACOB. [Clearing the table] Shall I pack your fishing-rods, too, sir?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes, I shall need them, but you can give my books away.
+
+JACOB. Very well, sir.
+
+TRIGORIN. [To himself] Page 121, lines 11 and 12. [To ARKADINA] Have we
+my books here in the house?
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, they are in my brother's library, in the corner cupboard.
+
+TRIGORIN. Page 121--[He goes out.]
+
+SORIN. You are going away, and I shall be lonely without you.
+
+ARKADINA. What would you do in town?
+
+SORIN. Oh, nothing in particular, but somehow--[He laughs] They are soon
+to lay the corner-stone of the new court-house here. How I should like
+to leap out of this minnow-pond, if but for an hour or two! I am tired
+of lying here like an old cigarette stump. I have ordered the carriage
+for one o'clock. We can go away together.
+
+ARKADINA. [After a pause] No, you must stay here. Don't be lonely, and
+don't catch cold. Keep an eye on my boy. Take good care of him; guide
+him along the proper paths. [A pause] I am going away, and so shall
+never find out why Constantine shot himself, but I think the chief
+reason was jealousy, and the sooner I take Trigorin away, the better.
+
+SORIN. There were--how shall I explain it to you?--other reasons besides
+jealousy for his act. Here is a clever young chap living in the depths
+of the country, without money or position, with no future ahead of him,
+and with nothing to do. He is ashamed and afraid of being so idle. I am
+devoted to him and he is fond of me, but nevertheless he feels that he
+is useless here, that he is little more than a dependent in this house.
+It is the pride in him.
+
+ARKADINA. He is a misery to me! [Thoughtfully] He might possibly enter
+the army.
+
+SORIN. [Gives a whistle, and then speaks with hesitation] It seems to
+me that the best thing for him would be if you were to let him have
+a little money. For one thing, he ought to be allowed to dress like a
+human being. See how he looks! Wearing the same little old coat that
+he has had for three years, and he doesn't even possess an overcoat!
+[Laughing] And it wouldn't hurt the youngster to sow a few wild oats;
+let him go abroad, say, for a time. It wouldn't cost much.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, but--However, I think I might manage about his clothes,
+but I couldn't let him go abroad. And no, I don't think I can let him
+have his clothes even, now. [Decidedly] I have no money at present.
+
+SORIN laughs.
+
+ARKADINA. I haven't indeed.
+
+SORIN. [Whistles] Very well. Forgive me, darling; don't be angry. You
+are a noble, generous woman!
+
+ARKADINA. [Weeping] I really haven't the money.
+
+SORIN. If I had any money of course I should let him have some myself,
+but I haven't even a penny. The farm manager takes my pension from me
+and puts it all into the farm or into cattle or bees, and in that way it
+is always lost for ever. The bees die, the cows die, they never let me
+have a horse.
+
+ARKADINA. Of course I have some money, but I am an actress and my
+expenses for dress alone are enough to bankrupt me.
+
+SORIN. You are a dear, and I am very fond of you, indeed I am. But
+something is the matter with me again. [He staggers] I feel giddy. [He
+leans against the table] I feel faint, and all.
+
+ARKADINA. [Frightened ] Peter! [She tries to support him] Peter!
+dearest! [She calls] Help! Help!
+
+TREPLIEFF and MEDVIEDENKO come in; TREPLIEFF has a bandage around his
+head.
+
+ARKADINA. He is fainting!
+
+SORIN. I am all right. [He smiles and drinks some water] It is all over
+now.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [To his mother] Don't be frightened, mother, these attacks
+are not dangerous; my uncle often has them now. [To his uncle] You must
+go and lie down, Uncle.
+
+SORIN. Yes, I think I shall, for a few minutes. I am going to Moscow
+all the same, but I shall lie down a bit before I start. [He goes out
+leaning on his cane.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. [Giving him his arm] Do you know this riddle? On four legs
+in the morning; on two legs at noon; and on three legs in the evening?
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] Yes, exactly, and on one's back at night. Thank you, I
+can walk alone.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Dear me, what formality! [He and SORIN go out.]
+
+ARKADINA. He gave me a dreadful fright.
+
+TREPLIEFF. It is not good for him to live in the country. Mother, if you
+would only untie your purse-strings for once, and lend him a thousand
+roubles! He could then spend a whole year in town.
+
+ARKADINA. I have no money. I am an actress and not a banker. [A pause.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Please change my bandage for me, mother, you do it so gently.
+
+ARKADINA goes to the cupboard and takes out a box of bandages and a
+bottle of iodoform.
+
+ARKADINA. The doctor is late.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, he promised to be here at nine, and now it is noon
+already.
+
+ARKADINA. Sit down. [She takes the bandage off his head] You look as if
+you had a turban on. A stranger that was in the kitchen yesterday asked
+to what nationality you belonged. Your wound is almost healed. [She
+kisses his head] You won't be up to any more of these silly tricks
+again, will you, when I am gone?
+
+TREPLIEFF. No, mother. I did that in a moment of insane despair, when I
+had lost all control over myself. It will never happen again. [He kisses
+her hand] Your touch is golden. I remember when you were still acting at
+the State Theatre, long ago, when I was still a little chap, there was a
+fight one day in our court, and a poor washerwoman was almost beaten to
+death. She was picked up unconscious, and you nursed her till she was
+well, and bathed her children in the washtubs. Have you forgotten it?
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, entirely. [She puts on a new bandage.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Two ballet dancers lived in the same house, and they used to
+come and drink coffee with you.
+
+ARKADINA. I remember that.
+
+TREPLIEFF. They were very pious. [A pause] I love you again, these last
+few days, as tenderly and trustingly as I did as a child. I have no one
+left me now but you. Why, why do you let yourself be controlled by that
+man?
+
+ARKADINA. You don't understand him, Constantine. He has a wonderfully
+noble personality.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nevertheless, when he has been told that I wish to challenge
+him to a duel his nobility does not prevent him from playing the coward.
+He is about to beat an ignominious retreat.
+
+ARKADINA. What nonsense! I have asked him myself to go.
+
+TREPLIEFF. A noble personality indeed! Here we are almost quarrelling
+over him, and he is probably in the garden laughing at us at this very
+moment, or else enlightening Nina's mind and trying to persuade her into
+thinking him a man of genius.
+
+ARKADINA. You enjoy saying unpleasant things to me. I have the greatest
+respect for that man, and I must ask you not to speak ill of him in my
+presence.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I have no respect for him at all. You want me to think him a
+genius, as you do, but I refuse to lie: his books make me sick.
+
+ARKADINA. You envy him. There is nothing left for people with no talent
+and mighty pretensions to do but to criticise those who are really
+gifted. I hope you enjoy the consolation it brings.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [With irony] Those who are really gifted, indeed! [Angrily] I
+am cleverer than any of you, if it comes to that! [He tears the bandage
+off his head] You are the slaves of convention, you have seized the
+upper hand and now lay down as law everything that you do; all else you
+strangle and trample on. I refuse to accept your point of view, yours
+and his, I refuse!
+
+ARKADINA. That is the talk of a decadent.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Go back to your beloved stage and act the miserable
+ditch-water plays you so much admire!
+
+ARKADINA. I never acted in a play like that in my life. You couldn't
+write even the trashiest music-hall farce, you idle good-for-nothing!
+
+TREPLIEFF. Miser!
+
+ARKADINA. Rag-bag!
+
+TREPLIEFF sits down and begins to cry softly.
+
+ARKADINA. [Walking up and down in great excitement] Don't cry! You
+mustn't cry! [She bursts into tears] You really mustn't. [She kisses his
+forehead, his cheeks, his head] My darling child, forgive me. Forgive
+your wicked mother.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Embracing her] Oh, if you could only know what it is to have
+lost everything under heaven! She does not love me. I see I shall never
+be able to write. Every hope has deserted me.
+
+ARKADINA. Don't despair. This will all pass. He is going away to-day,
+and she will love you once more. [She wipes away his tears] Stop crying.
+We have made peace again.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Kissing her hand] Yes, mother.
+
+ARKADINA. [Tenderly] Make your peace with him, too. Don't fight with
+him. You surely won't fight?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I won't, but you must not insist on my seeing him again,
+mother, I couldn't stand it. [TRIGORIN comes in] There he is; I am
+going. [He quickly puts the medicines away in the cupboard] The doctor
+will attend to my head.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Looking through the pages of a book] Page 121, lines 11 and
+12; here it is. [He reads] "If at any time you should have need of my
+life, come and take it."
+
+TREPLIEFF picks up the bandage off the floor and goes out.
+
+ARKADINA. [Looking at her watch] The carriage will soon be here.
+
+TRIGORIN. [To himself] If at any time you should have need of my life,
+come and take it.
+
+ARKADINA. I hope your things are all packed.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Impatiently] Yes, yes. [In deep thought] Why do I hear a note
+of sadness that wrings my heart in this cry of a pure soul? If at any
+time you should have need of my life, come and take it. [To ARKADINA]
+Let us stay here one more day!
+
+ARKADINA shakes her head.
+
+TRIGORIN. Do let us stay!
+
+ARKADINA. I know, dearest, what keeps you here, but you must control
+yourself. Be sober; your emotions have intoxicated you a little.
+
+TRIGORIN. You must be sober, too. Be sensible; look upon what has
+happened as a true friend would. [Taking her hand] You are capable of
+self-sacrifice. Be a friend to me and release me!
+
+ARKADINA. [In deep excitement] Are you so much in love?
+
+TRIGORIN. I am irresistibly impelled toward her. It may be that this is
+just what I need.
+
+ARKADINA. What, the love of a country girl? Oh, how little you know
+yourself!
+
+TRIGORIN. People sometimes walk in their sleep, and so I feel as if
+I were asleep, and dreaming of her as I stand here talking to you. My
+imagination is shaken by the sweetest and most glorious visions. Release
+me!
+
+ARKADINA. [Shuddering] No, no! I am only an ordinary woman; you must not
+say such things to me. Do not torment me, Boris; you frighten me.
+
+TRIGORIN. You could be an extraordinary woman if you only would. Love
+alone can bring happiness on earth, love the enchanting, the poetical
+love of youth, that sweeps away the sorrows of the world. I had no time
+for it when I was young and struggling with want and laying siege to the
+literary fortress, but now at last this love has come to me. I see it
+beckoning; why should I fly?
+
+ARKADINA. [With anger] You are mad!
+
+TRIGORIN. Release me.
+
+ARKADINA. You have all conspired together to torture me to-day. [She
+weeps.]
+
+TRIGORIN. [Clutching his head desperately] She doesn't understand me!
+She won't understand me!
+
+ARKADINA. Am I then so old and ugly already that you can talk to me like
+this without any shame about another woman? [She embraces and kisses
+him] Oh, you have lost your senses! My splendid, my glorious friend, my
+love for you is the last chapter of my life. [She falls on her knees]
+You are my pride, my joy, my light. [She embraces his knees] I could
+never endure it should you desert me, if only for an hour; I should go
+mad. Oh, my wonder, my marvel, my king!
+
+TRIGORIN. Some one might come in. [He helps her to rise.]
+
+ARKADINA. Let them come! I am not ashamed of my love. [She kisses his
+hands] My jewel! My despair! You want to do a foolish thing, but I don't
+want you to do it. I shan't let you do it! [She laughs] You are mine,
+you are mine! This forehead is mine, these eyes are mine, this silky
+hair is mine. All your being is mine. You are so clever, so wise, the
+first of all living writers; you are the only hope of your country. You
+are so fresh, so simple, so deeply humourous. You can bring out every
+feature of a man or of a landscape in a single line, and your characters
+live and breathe. Do you think that these words are but the incense of
+flattery? Do you think I am not speaking the truth? Come, look into my
+eyes; look deep; do you find lies there? No, you see that I alone know
+how to treasure you. I alone tell you the truth. Oh, my very dear, you
+will go with me? You will? You will not forsake me?
+
+TRIGORIN. I have no will of my own; I never had. I am too indolent, too
+submissive, too phlegmatic, to have any. Is it possible that women like
+that? Take me. Take me away with you, but do not let me stir a step from
+your side.
+
+ARKADINA. [To herself] Now he is mine! [Carelessly, as if nothing
+unusual had happened] Of course you must stay here if you really want
+to. I shall go, and you can follow in a week's time. Yes, really, why
+should you hurry away?
+
+TRIGORIN. Let us go together.
+
+ARKADINA. As you like. Let us go together then. [A pause. TRIGORIN
+writes something in his note-book] What are you writing?
+
+TRIGORIN. A happy expression I heard this morning: "A grove of maiden
+pines." It may be useful. [He yawns] So we are really off again,
+condemned once more to railway carriages, to stations and restaurants,
+to Hamburger steaks and endless arguments!
+
+SHAMRAEFF comes in.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. I am sorry to have to inform you that your carriage is at the
+door. It is time to start, honoured madam, the train leaves at two-five.
+Would you be kind enough, madam, to remember to inquire for me where
+Suzdaltzeff the actor is now? Is he still alive, I wonder? Is he well?
+He and I have had many a jolly time together. He was inimitable in "The
+Stolen Mail." A tragedian called Izmailoff was in the same company, I
+remember, who was also quite remarkable. Don't hurry, madam, you still
+have five minutes. They were both of them conspirators once, in the
+same melodrama, and one night when in the course of the play they were
+suddenly discovered, instead of saying "We have been trapped!" Izmailoff
+cried out: "We have been rapped!" [He laughs] Rapped!
+
+While he has been talking JACOB has been busy with the trunks, and the
+maid has brought ARKADINA her hat, coat, parasol, and gloves. The cook
+looks hesitatingly through the door on the right, and finally comes into
+the room. PAULINA comes in. MEDVIEDENKO comes in.
+
+PAULINA. [Presenting ARKADINA with a little basket] Here are some
+plums for the journey. They are very sweet ones. You may want to nibble
+something good on the way.
+
+ARKADINA. You are very kind, Paulina.
+
+PAULINA. Good-bye, my dearie. If things have not been quite as you could
+have wished, please forgive us. [She weeps.]
+
+ARKADINA. It has been delightful, delightful. You mustn't cry.
+
+SORIN comes in through the door on the left, dressed in a long coat with
+a cape, and carrying his hat and cane. He crosses the room.
+
+SORIN. Come, sister, it is time to start, unless you want to miss the
+train. I am going to get into the carriage. [He goes out.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I shall walk quickly to the station and see you off there.
+[He goes out.]
+
+ARKADINA. Good-bye, all! We shall meet again next summer if we live.
+[The maid servant, JACOB, and the cook kiss her hand] Don't forget me.
+[She gives the cook a rouble] There is a rouble for all three of you.
+
+THE COOK. Thank you, mistress; a pleasant journey to you.
+
+JACOB. God bless you, mistress.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Send us a line to cheer us up. [TO TRIGORIN] Good-bye, sir.
+
+ARKADINA. Where is Constantine? Tell him I am starting. I must say
+good-bye to him. [To JACOB] I gave the cook a rouble for all three of
+you.
+
+All go out through the door on the right. The stage remains empty.
+Sounds of farewell are heard. The maid comes running back to fetch the
+basket of plums which has been forgotten. TRIGORIN comes back.
+
+TRIGORIN. I had forgotten my cane. I think I left it on the terrace. [He
+goes toward the door on the right and meets NINA, who comes in at that
+moment] Is that you? We are off.
+
+NINA. I knew we should meet again. [With emotion] I have come to an
+irrevocable decision, the die is cast: I am going on the stage. I am
+deserting my father and abandoning everything. I am beginning life anew.
+I am going, as you are, to Moscow. We shall meet there.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Glancing about him] Go to the Hotel Slavianski Bazar. Let
+me know as soon as you get there. I shall be at the Grosholski House in
+Moltchanofka Street. I must go now. [A pause.]
+
+NINA. Just one more minute!
+
+TRIGORIN. [In a low voice] You are so beautiful! What bliss to think
+that I shall see you again so soon! [She sinks on his breast] I shall
+see those glorious eyes again, that wonderful, ineffably tender smile,
+those gentle features with their expression of angelic purity! My
+darling! [A prolonged kiss.]
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+Two years elapse between the third and fourth acts.
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+_A sitting-room in SORIN'S house, which has been converted into a
+writing-room for TREPLIEFF. To the right and left are doors leading into
+inner rooms, and in the centre is a glass door opening onto a terrace.
+Besides the usual furniture of a sitting-room there is a writing-desk
+in the right-hand corner of the room. There is a Turkish divan near the
+door on the left, and shelves full of books stand against the walls.
+Books are lying scattered about on the windowsills and chairs. It is
+evening. The room is dimly lighted by a shaded lamp on a table. The wind
+moans in the tree tops and whistles down the chimney. The watchman in
+the garden is heard sounding his rattle. MEDVIEDENKO and MASHA come in_.
+
+MASHA. [Calling TREPLIEFF] Mr. Constantine, where are you? [Looking
+about her] There is no one here. His old uncle is forever asking for
+Constantine, and can't live without him for an instant.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. He dreads being left alone. [Listening to the wind] This is
+a wild night. We have had this storm for two days.
+
+MASHA. [Turning up the lamp] The waves on the lake are enormous.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is very dark in the garden. Do you know, I think that
+old theatre ought to be knocked down. It is still standing there, naked
+and hideous as a skeleton, with the curtain flapping in the wind. I
+thought I heard a voice weeping in it as I passed there last night.
+
+MASHA. What an idea! [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Come home with me, Masha.
+
+MASHA. [Shaking her head] I shall spend the night here.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. [Imploringly] Do come, Masha. The baby must be hungry.
+
+MASHA. Nonsense, Matriona will feed it. [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is a pity to leave him three nights without his mother.
+
+MASHA. You are getting too tiresome. You used sometimes to talk of other
+things besides home and the baby, home and the baby. That is all I ever
+hear from you now.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Come home, Masha.
+
+MASHA. You can go home if you want to.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Your father won't give me a horse.
+
+MASHA. Yes, he will; ask him.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I think I shall. Are you coming home to-morrow?
+
+MASHA. Yes, yes, to-morrow.
+
+She takes snuff. TREPLIEFF and PAULINA come in. TREPLIEFF is carrying
+some pillows and a blanket, and PAULINA is carrying sheets and pillow
+cases. They lay them on the divan, and TREPLIEFF goes and sits down at
+his desk.
+
+MASHA. Who is that for, mother?
+
+PAULINA. Mr. Sorin asked to sleep in Constantine's room to-night.
+
+MASHA. Let me make the bed.
+
+She makes the bed. PAULINA goes up to the desk and looks at the
+manuscripts lying on it. [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Well, I am going. Good-bye, Masha. [He kisses his wife's
+hand] Good-bye, mother. [He tries to kiss his mother-in-law's hand.]
+
+PAULINA. [Crossly] Be off, in God's name!
+
+TREPLIEFF shakes hands with him in silence, and MEDVIEDENKO goes out.
+
+PAULINA. [Looking at the manuscripts] No one ever dreamed, Constantine,
+that you would one day turn into a real author. The magazines pay you
+well for your stories. [She strokes his hair.] You have grown handsome,
+too. Dear, kind Constantine, be a little nicer to my Masha.
+
+MASHA. [Still making the bed] Leave him alone, mother.
+
+PAULINA. She is a sweet child. [A pause] A woman, Constantine, asks only
+for kind looks. I know that from experience.
+
+TREPLIEFF gets up from his desk and goes out without a word.
+
+MASHA. There now! You have vexed him. I told you not to bother him.
+
+PAULINA. I am sorry for you, Masha.
+
+MASHA. Much I need your pity!
+
+PAULINA. My heart aches for you. I see how things are, and understand.
+
+MASHA. You see what doesn't exist. Hopeless love is only found in
+novels. It is a trifle; all one has to do is to keep a tight rein on
+oneself, and keep one's head clear. Love must be plucked out the moment
+it springs up in the heart. My husband has been promised a school in
+another district, and when we have once left this place I shall forget
+it all. I shall tear my passion out by the roots. [The notes of a
+melancholy waltz are heard in the distance.]
+
+PAULINA. Constantine is playing. That means he is sad.
+
+MASHA silently waltzes a few turns to the music.
+
+MASHA. The great thing, mother, is not to have him continually in sight.
+If my Simon could only get his remove I should forget it all in a month
+or two. It is a trifle.
+
+DORN and MEDVIEDENKO come in through the door on the left, wheeling
+SORIN in an arm-chair.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I have six mouths to feed now, and flour is at seventy
+kopecks.
+
+DORN. A hard riddle to solve!
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is easy for you to make light of it. You are rich enough
+to scatter money to your chickens, if you wanted to.
+
+DORN. You think I am rich? My friend, after practising for thirty years,
+during which I could not call my soul my own for one minute of the night
+or day, I succeeded at last in scraping together one thousand roubles,
+all of which went, not long ago, in a trip which I took abroad. I
+haven't a penny.
+
+MASHA. [To her husband] So you didn't go home after all?
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. [Apologetically] How can I go home when they won't give me
+a horse?
+
+MASHA. [Under her breath, with bitter anger] Would I might never see
+your face again!
+
+SORIN in his chair is wheeled to the left-hand side of the room.
+PAULINA, MASHA, and DORN sit down beside him. MEDVIEDENKO stands sadly
+aside.
+
+DORN. What a lot of changes you have made here! You have turned this
+sitting-room into a library.
+
+MASHA. Constantine likes to work in this room, because from it he can
+step out into the garden to meditate whenever he feels like it. [The
+watchman's rattle is heard.]
+
+SORIN. Where is my sister?
+
+DORN. She has gone to the station to meet Trigorin. She will soon be
+back.
+
+SORIN. I must be dangerously ill if you had to send for my sister.
+[He falls silent for a moment] A nice business this is! Here I am
+dangerously ill, and you won't even give me any medicine.
+
+DORN. What shall I prescribe for you? Camomile tea? Soda? Quinine?
+
+SORIN. Don't inflict any of your discussions on me again. [He nods
+toward the sofa] Is that bed for me?
+
+PAULINA. Yes, for you, sir.
+
+SORIN. Thank you.
+
+DORN. [Sings] "The moon swims in the sky to-night."
+
+SORIN. I am going to give Constantine an idea for a story. It shall be
+called "The Man Who Wished--L'Homme qui a voulu." When I was young, I
+wished to become an author; I failed. I wished to be an orator; I speak
+abominably, [Exciting himself] with my eternal "and all, and all,"
+dragging each sentence on and on until I sometimes break out into a
+sweat all over. I wished to marry, and I didn't; I wished to live in the
+city, and here I am ending my days in the country, and all.
+
+DORN. You wished to become State Councillor, and--you are one!
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] I didn't try for that, it came of its own accord.
+
+DORN. Come, you must admit that it is petty to cavil at life at
+sixty-two years of age.
+
+SORIN. You are pig-headed! Can't you see I want to live?
+
+DORN. That is futile. Nature has commanded that every life shall come to
+an end.
+
+SORIN. You speak like a man who is satiated with life. Your thirst for
+it is quenched, and so you are calm and indifferent, but even you dread
+death.
+
+DORN. The fear of death is an animal passion which must be overcome.
+Only those who believe in a future life and tremble for sins committed,
+can logically fear death; but you, for one thing, don't believe in a
+future life, and for another, you haven't committed any sins. You have
+served as a Councillor for twenty-five years, that is all.
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] Twenty-eight years!
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in and sits down on a stool at SORIN'S feet. MASHA fixes
+her eyes on his face and never once tears them away.
+
+DORN. We are keeping Constantine from his work.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No matter. [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Of all the cities you visited when you were abroad, Doctor,
+which one did you like the best?
+
+DORN. Genoa.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Why Genoa?
+
+DORN. Because there is such a splendid crowd in its streets. When you
+leave the hotel in the evening, and throw yourself into the heart of
+that throng, and move with it without aim or object, swept along, hither
+and thither, their life seems to be yours, their soul flows into you,
+and you begin to believe at last in a great world spirit, like the one
+in your play that Nina Zarietchnaya acted. By the way, where is Nina
+now? Is she well?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I believe so.
+
+DORN. I hear she has led rather a strange life; what happened?
+
+TREPLIEFF. It is a long story, Doctor.
+
+DORN. Tell it shortly. [A pause.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. She ran away from home and joined Trigorin; you know that?
+
+DORN. Yes.
+
+TREPLIEFF. She had a child that died. Trigorin soon tired of her and
+returned to his former ties, as might have been expected. He had
+never broken them, indeed, but out of weakness of character had always
+vacillated between the two. As far as I can make out from what I have
+heard, Nina's domestic life has not been altogether a success.
+
+DORN. What about her acting?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I believe she made an even worse failure of that. She made
+her debut on the stage of the Summer Theatre in Moscow, and afterward
+made a tour of the country towns. At that time I never let her out of my
+sight, and wherever she went I followed. She always attempted great
+and difficult parts, but her delivery was harsh and monotonous, and her
+gestures heavy and crude. She shrieked and died well at times, but those
+were but moments.
+
+DORN. Then she really has a talent for acting?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I never could make out. I believe she has. I saw her, but she
+refused to see me, and her servant would never admit me to her rooms. I
+appreciated her feelings, and did not insist upon a meeting. [A pause]
+What more can I tell you? She sometimes writes to me now that I have
+come home, such clever, sympathetic letters, full of warm feeling. She
+never complains, but I can tell that she is profoundly unhappy; not a
+line but speaks to me of an aching, breaking nerve. She has one strange
+fancy; she always signs herself "The Sea-gull." The miller in "Rusalka"
+called himself "The Crow," and so she repeats in all her letters that
+she is a sea-gull. She is here now.
+
+DORN. What do you mean by "here?"
+
+TREPLIEFF. In the village, at the inn. She has been there for five days.
+I should have gone to see her, but Masha here went, and she refuses to
+see any one. Some one told me she had been seen wandering in the fields
+a mile from here yesterday evening.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, I saw her. She was walking away from here in the
+direction of the village. I asked her why she had not been to see us.
+She said she would come.
+
+TREPLIEFF. But she won't. [A pause] Her father and stepmother have
+disowned her. They have even put watchmen all around their estate to
+keep her away. [He goes with the doctor toward the desk] How easy it is,
+Doctor, to be a philosopher on paper, and how difficult in real life!
+
+SORIN. She was a beautiful girl. Even the State Councillor himself was
+in love with her for a time.
+
+DORN. You old Lovelace, you!
+
+SHAMRAEFF'S laugh is heard.
+
+PAULINA. They are coming back from the station.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, I hear my mother's voice.
+
+ARKADINA and TRIGORIN come in, followed by SHAMRAEFF.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. We all grow old and wither, my lady, while you alone, with
+your light dress, your gay spirits, and your grace, keep the secret of
+eternal youth.
+
+ARKADINA. You are still trying to turn my head, you tiresome old man.
+
+TRIGORIN. [To SORIN] How do you do, Peter? What, still ill? How silly of
+you! [With evident pleasure, as he catches sight of MASHA] How are you,
+Miss Masha?
+
+MASHA. So you recognised me? [She shakes hands with him.]
+
+TRIGORIN. Did you marry him?
+
+MASHA. Long ago.
+
+TRIGORIN. You are happy now? [He bows to DORN and MEDVIEDENKO, and then
+goes hesitatingly toward TREPLIEFF] Your mother says you have forgotten
+the past and are no longer angry with me.
+
+TREPLIEFF gives him his hand.
+
+ARKADINA. [To her son] Here is a magazine that Boris has brought you
+with your latest story in it.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [To TRIGORIN, as he takes the magazine] Many thanks; you are
+very kind.
+
+TRIGORIN. Your admirers all send you their regards. Every one in Moscow
+and St. Petersburg is interested in you, and all ply me with questions
+about you. They ask me what you look like, how old you are, whether you
+are fair or dark. For some reason they all think that you are no longer
+young, and no one knows who you are, as you always write under an
+assumed name. You are as great a mystery as the Man in the Iron Mask.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Do you expect to be here long?
+
+TRIGORIN. No, I must go back to Moscow to-morrow. I am finishing another
+novel, and have promised something to a magazine besides. In fact, it is
+the same old business.
+
+During their conversation ARKADINA and PAULINA have put up a card-table
+in the centre of the room; SHAMRAEFF lights the candles and arranges the
+chairs, then fetches a box of lotto from the cupboard.
+
+TRIGORIN. The weather has given me a rough welcome. The wind is
+frightful. If it goes down by morning I shall go fishing in the
+lake, and shall have a look at the garden and the spot--do you
+remember?--where your play was given. I remember the piece very well,
+but should like to see again where the scene was laid.
+
+MASHA. [To her father] Father, do please let my husband have a horse. He
+ought to go home.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Angrily] A horse to go home with! [Sternly] You know the
+horses have just been to the station. I can't send them out again.
+
+MASHA. But there are other horses. [Seeing that her father remains
+silent] You are impossible!
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I shall go on foot, Masha.
+
+PAULINA. [With a sigh] On foot in this weather? [She takes a seat at the
+card-table] Shall we begin?
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is only six miles. Good-bye. [He kisses his wife's
+hand;] Good-bye, mother. [His mother-in-law gives him her hand
+unwillingly] I should not have troubled you all, but the baby--[He bows
+to every one] Good-bye. [He goes out with an apologetic air.]
+
+SHAMRAEFF. He will get there all right, he is not a major-general.
+
+PAULINA. Come, let us begin. Don't let us waste time, we shall soon be
+called to supper.
+
+SHAMRAEFF, MASHA, and DORN sit down at the card-table.
+
+ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] When the long autumn evenings descend on us we
+while away the time here by playing lotto. Look at this old set; we used
+it when our mother played with us as children. Don't you want to take a
+hand in the game with us until supper time? [She and TRIGORIN sit down
+at the table] It is a monotonous game, but it is all right when one gets
+used to it. [She deals three cards to each of the players.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Looking through the pages of the magazine] He has read his
+own story, and hasn't even cut the pages of mine.
+
+He lays the magazine on his desk and goes toward the door on the right,
+stopping as he passes his mother to give her a kiss.
+
+ARKADINA. Won't you play, Constantine?
+
+TREPLIEFF. No, excuse me please, I don't feel like it. I am going to
+take a turn through the rooms. [He goes out.]
+
+MASHA. Are you all ready? I shall begin: twenty-two.
+
+ARKADINA. Here it is.
+
+MASHA. Three.
+
+DORN. Right.
+
+MASHA. Have you put down three? Eight. Eighty-one. Ten.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Don't go so fast.
+
+ARKADINA. Could you believe it? I am still dazed by the reception they
+gave me in Kharkoff.
+
+MASHA. Thirty-four. [The notes of a melancholy waltz are heard.]
+
+ARKADINA. The students gave me an ovation; they sent me three baskets of
+flowers, a wreath, and this thing here.
+
+She unclasps a brooch from her breast and lays it on the table.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. There is something worth while!
+
+MASHA. Fifty.
+
+DORN. Fifty, did you say?
+
+ARKADINA. I wore a perfectly magnificent dress; I am no fool when it
+comes to clothes.
+
+PAULINA. Constantine is playing again; the poor boy is sad.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. He has been severely criticised in the papers.
+
+MASHA. Seventy-seven.
+
+ARKADINA. They want to attract attention to him.
+
+TRIGORIN. He doesn't seem able to make a success, he can't somehow
+strike the right note. There is an odd vagueness about his writings
+that sometimes verges on delirium. He has never created a single living
+character.
+
+MASHA. Eleven.
+
+ARKADINA. Are you bored, Peter? [A pause] He is asleep.
+
+DORN. The Councillor is taking a nap.
+
+MASHA. Seven. Ninety.
+
+TRIGORIN. Do you think I should write if I lived in such a place as
+this, on the shore of this lake? Never! I should overcome my passion,
+and give my life up to the catching of fish.
+
+MASHA. Twenty-eight.
+
+TRIGORIN. And if I caught a perch or a bass, what bliss it would be!
+
+DORN. I have great faith in Constantine. I know there is something in
+him. He thinks in images; his stories are vivid and full of colour,
+and always affect me deeply. It is only a pity that he has no definite
+object in view. He creates impressions, and nothing more, and one cannot
+go far on impressions alone. Are you glad, madam, that you have an
+author for a son?
+
+ARKADINA. Just think, I have never read anything of his; I never have
+time.
+
+MASHA. Twenty-six.
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in quietly and sits down at his table.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [To TRIGORIN] We have something here that belongs to you,
+sir.
+
+TRIGORIN. What is it?
+
+SHAMRAEFF. You told me to have the sea-gull stuffed that Mr. Constantine
+killed some time ago.
+
+TRIGORIN. Did I? [Thoughtfully] I don't remember.
+
+MASHA. Sixty-one. One.
+
+TREPLIEFF throws open the window and stands listening.
+
+TREPLIEFF. How dark the night is! I wonder what makes me so restless.
+
+ARKADINA. Shut the window, Constantine, there is a draught here.
+
+TREPLIEFF shuts the window.
+
+MASHA. Ninety-eight.
+
+TRIGORIN. See, my card is full.
+
+ARKADINA. [Gaily] Bravo! Bravo!
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Bravo!
+
+ARKADINA. Wherever he goes and whatever he does, that man always has
+good luck. [She gets up] And now, come to supper. Our renowned guest did
+not have any dinner to-day. We can continue our game later. [To her son]
+Come, Constantine, leave your writing and come to supper.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I don't want anything to eat, mother; I am not hungry.
+
+ARKADINA. As you please. [She wakes SORIN] Come to supper, Peter. [She
+takes SHAMRAEFF'S arm] Let me tell you about my reception in Kharkoff.
+
+PAULINA blows out the candles on the table, then she and DORN roll
+SORIN'S chair out of the room, and all go out through the door on the
+left, except TREPLIEFF, who is left alone. TREPLIEFF prepares to write.
+He runs his eye over what he has already written.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I have talked a great deal about new forms of art, but I feel
+myself gradually slipping into the beaten track. [He reads] "The
+placard cried it from the wall--a pale face in a frame of dusky
+hair"--cried--frame--that is stupid. [He scratches out what he has
+written] I shall begin again from the place where my hero is wakened by
+the noise of the rain, but what follows must go. This description of a
+moonlight night is long and stilted. Trigorin has worked out a process
+of his own, and descriptions are easy for him. He writes that the neck
+of a broken bottle lying on the bank glittered in the moonlight, and
+that the shadows lay black under the mill-wheel. There you have a
+moonlight night before your eyes, but I speak of the shimmering light,
+the twinkling stars, the distant sounds of a piano melting into the
+still and scented air, and the result is abominable. [A pause] The
+conviction is gradually forcing itself upon me that good literature is
+not a question of forms new or old, but of ideas that must pour freely
+from the author's heart, without his bothering his head about any forms
+whatsoever. [A knock is heard at the window nearest the table] What was
+that? [He looks out of the window] I can't see anything. [He opens the
+glass door and looks out into the garden] I heard some one run down
+the steps. [He calls] Who is there? [He goes out, and is heard walking
+quickly along the terrace. In a few minutes he comes back with NINA
+ZARIETCHNAYA] Oh, Nina, Nina!
+
+NINA lays her head on TREPLIEFF'S breast and stifles her sobs.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Deeply moved] Nina, Nina! It is you--you! I felt you would
+come; all day my heart has been aching for you. [He takes off her hat
+and cloak] My darling, my beloved has come back to me! We mustn't cry,
+we mustn't cry.
+
+NINA. There is some one here.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No one is here.
+
+NINA. Lock the door, some one might come.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No one will come in.
+
+NINA. I know your mother is here. Lock the door.
+
+TREPLIEFF locks the door on the right and comes back to NINA.
+
+TREPLIEFF. There is no lock on that one. I shall put a chair against
+it. [He puts an arm-chair against the door] Don't be frightened, no one
+shall come in.
+
+NINA. [Gazing intently into his face] Let me look at you. [She looks
+about her] It is warm and comfortable in here. This used to be a
+sitting-room. Have I changed much?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, you have grown thinner, and your eyes are larger than
+they were. Nina, it seems so strange to see you! Why didn't you let me
+go to you? Why didn't you come sooner to me? You have been here nearly a
+week, I know. I have been several times each day to where you live, and
+have stood like a beggar beneath your window.
+
+NINA. I was afraid you might hate me. I dream every night that you look
+at me without recognising me. I have been wandering about on the shores
+of the lake ever since I came back. I have often been near your house,
+but I have never had the courage to come in. Let us sit down. [They sit
+down] Let us sit down and talk our hearts out. It is so quiet and warm
+in here. Do you hear the wind whistling outside? As Turgenieff says,
+"Happy is he who can sit at night under the roof of his home, who has a
+warm corner in which to take refuge." I am a sea-gull--and yet--no.
+[She passes her hand across her forehead] What was I saying? Oh, yes,
+Turgenieff. He says, "and God help all houseless wanderers." [She sobs.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nina! You are crying again, Nina!
+
+NINA. It is all right. I shall feel better after this. I have not cried
+for two years. I went into the garden last night to see if our old
+theatre were still standing. I see it is. I wept there for the first
+time in two years, and my heart grew lighter, and my soul saw more
+clearly again. See, I am not crying now. [She takes his hand in hers]
+So you are an author now, and I am an actress. We have both been sucked
+into the whirlpool. My life used to be as happy as a child's; I used to
+wake singing in the morning; I loved you and dreamt of fame, and what is
+the reality? To-morrow morning early I must start for Eltz by train in
+a third-class carriage, with a lot of peasants, and at Eltz the educated
+trades-people will pursue me with compliments. It is a rough life.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Why are you going to Eltz?
+
+NINA. I have accepted an engagement there for the winter. It is time for
+me to go.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nina, I have cursed you, and hated you, and torn up your
+photograph, and yet I have known every minute of my life that my heart
+and soul were yours for ever. To cease from loving you is beyond my
+power. I have suffered continually from the time I lost you and began
+to write, and my life has been almost unendurable. My youth was suddenly
+plucked from me then, and I seem now to have lived in this world for
+ninety years. I have called out to you, I have kissed the ground you
+walked on, wherever I looked I have seen your face before my eyes, and
+the smile that had illumined for me the best years of my life.
+
+NINA. [Despairingly] Why, why does he talk to me like this?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I am quite alone, unwarmed by any attachment. I am as cold
+as if I were living in a cave. Whatever I write is dry and gloomy and
+harsh. Stay here, Nina, I beseech you, or else let me go away with you.
+
+NINA quickly puts on her coat and hat.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nina, why do you do that? For God's sake, Nina! [He watches
+her as she dresses. A pause.]
+
+NINA. My carriage is at the gate. Do not come out to see me off. I shall
+find the way alone. [Weeping] Let me have some water.
+
+TREPLIEFF hands her a glass of water.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Where are you going?
+
+NINA. Back to the village. Is your mother here?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, my uncle fell ill on Thursday, and we telegraphed for
+her to come.
+
+NINA. Why do you say that you have kissed the ground I walked on? You
+should kill me rather. [She bends over the table] I am so tired. If I
+could only rest--rest. [She raises her head] I am a sea-gull--no--no,
+I am an actress. [She hears ARKADINA and TRIGORIN laughing in the
+distance, runs to the door on the left and looks through the keyhole] He
+is there too. [She goes back to TREPLIEFF] Ah, well--no matter. He
+does not believe in the theatre; he used to laugh at my dreams, so that
+little by little I became down-hearted and ceased to believe in it too.
+Then came all the cares of love, the continual anxiety about my little
+one, so that I soon grew trivial and spiritless, and played my parts
+without meaning. I never knew what to do with my hands, and I could not
+walk properly or control my voice. You cannot imagine the state of mind
+of one who knows as he goes through a play how terribly badly he is
+acting. I am a sea-gull--no--no, that is not what I meant to say. Do you
+remember how you shot a seagull once? A man chanced to pass that way and
+destroyed it out of idleness. That is an idea for a short story, but it
+is not what I meant to say. [She passes her hand across her forehead]
+What was I saying? Oh, yes, the stage. I have changed now. Now I am a
+real actress. I act with joy, with exaltation, I am intoxicated by it,
+and feel that I am superb. I have been walking and walking, and thinking
+and thinking, ever since I have been here, and I feel the strength of
+my spirit growing in me every day. I know now, I understand at last,
+Constantine, that for us, whether we write or act, it is not the honour
+and glory of which I have dreamt that is important, it is the strength
+to endure. One must know how to bear one's cross, and one must have
+faith. I believe, and so do not suffer so much, and when I think of my
+calling I do not fear life.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Sadly] You have found your way, you know where you are
+going, but I am still groping in a chaos of phantoms and dreams, not
+knowing whom and what end I am serving by it all. I do not believe in
+anything, and I do not know what my calling is.
+
+NINA. [Listening] Hush! I must go. Good-bye. When I have become a
+famous actress you must come and see me. Will you promise to come? But
+now--[She takes his hand] it is late. I can hardly stand. I am fainting.
+I am hungry.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Stay, and let me bring you some supper.
+
+NINA. No, no--and don't come out, I can find the way alone. My carriage
+is not far away. So she brought him back with her? However, what
+difference can that make to me? Don't tell Trigorin anything when you
+see him. I love him--I love him even more than I used to. It is an idea
+for a short story. I love him--I love him passionately--I love him to
+despair. Have you forgotten, Constantine, how pleasant the old times
+were? What a gay, bright, gentle, pure life we led? How a feeling as
+sweet and tender as a flower blossomed in our hearts? Do you remember,
+[She recites] "All men and beasts, lions, eagles, and quails, horned
+stags, geese, spiders, silent fish that inhabit the waves, starfish from
+the sea, and creatures invisible to the eye--in one word, life--all, all
+life, completing the dreary round set before it, has died out at last.
+A thousand years have passed since the earth last bore a living creature
+on its breast, and the unhappy moon now lights her lamp in vain. No
+longer are the cries of storks heard in the meadows, or the drone of
+beetles in the groves of limes----"
+
+She embraces TREPLIEFF impetuously and runs out onto the terrace.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [After a pause] It would be a pity if she were seen in the
+garden. My mother would be distressed.
+
+He stands for several minutes tearing up his manuscripts and throwing
+them under the table, then unlocks the door on the right and goes out.
+
+DORN. [Trying to force open the door on the left] Odd! This door seems
+to be locked. [He comes in and puts the chair back in its former place]
+This is like a hurdle race.
+
+ARKADINA and PAULINA come in, followed by JACOB carrying some bottles;
+then come MASHA, SHAMRAEFF, and TRIGORIN.
+
+ARKADINA. Put the claret and the beer here, on the table, so that we can
+drink while we are playing. Sit down, friends.
+
+PAULINA. And bring the tea at once.
+
+She lights the candles and takes her seat at the card-table. SHAMRAEFF
+leads TRIGORIN to the cupboard.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Here is the stuffed sea-gull I was telling you about. [He
+takes the sea-gull out of the cupboard] You told me to have it done.
+
+TRIGORIN. [looking at the bird] I don't remember a thing about it, not a
+thing. [A shot is heard. Every one jumps.]
+
+ARKADINA. [Frightened] What was that?
+
+DORN. Nothing at all; probably one of my medicine bottles has blown up.
+Don't worry. [He goes out through the door on the right, and comes back
+in a few moments] It is as I thought, a flask of ether has exploded. [He
+sings]
+
+"Spellbound once more I stand before thee."
+
+ARKADINA. [Sitting down at the table] Heavens! I was really frightened.
+That noise reminded me of--[She covers her face with her hands]
+Everything is black before my eyes.
+
+DORN. [Looking through the pages of a magazine, to TRIGORIN] There was
+an article from America in this magazine about two months ago that I
+wanted to ask you about, among other things. [He leads TRIGORIN to the
+front of the stage] I am very much interested in this question. [He
+lowers his voice and whispers] You must take Madame Arkadina away from
+here; what I wanted to say was, that Constantine has shot himself.
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sea-Gull, by Anton Checkov
+
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+**The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Sea-Gull, by Anton Checkov**
+#3 in our series by Anton Checkhov    [Chekov, Tchekhov, Tchekoff]
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+
+
+
+The Sea-Gull
+
+by Anton Checkov
+
+
+
+
+THE SEA-GULL
+
+A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS
+
+
+CHARACTERS
+
+IRINA ABKADINA, an actress
+
+CONSTANTINE TREPLIEFF, her son
+
+PETER SORIN, her brother
+
+NINA ZARIETCHNAYA, a young girl, the daughter of a rich landowner
+
+ILIA SHAMRAEFF, the manager of SORIN'S estate
+
+PAULINA, his wife
+
+MASHA, their daughter
+
+BORIS TRIGORIN, an author
+
+EUGENE DORN, a doctor
+
+SIMON MEDVIEDENKO, a schoolmaster
+
+JACOB, a workman
+
+A COOK
+
+A MAIDSERVANT
+
+The scene is laid on SORIN'S estate. Two years elapse between the
+third and fourth acts.
+
+
+THE SEA-GULL
+
+ACT I
+
+The scene is laid in the park on SORIN'S estate. A broad avenue
+of trees leads away from the audience toward a lake which lies
+lost in the depths of the park. The avenue is obstructed by a
+rough stage, temporarily erected for the performance of amateur
+theatricals, and which screens the lake from view. There is a
+dense growth of bushes to the left and right of the stage. A few
+chairs and a little table are placed in front of the stage. The
+sun has just set. JACOB and some other workmen are heard
+hammering and coughing on the stage behind the lowered curtain.
+
+MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO come in from the left, returning from a
+walk.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Why do you always wear mourning?
+
+MASHA. I dress in black to match my life. I am unhappy.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Why should you be unhappy? [Thinking it over] I
+don't understand it. You are healthy, and though your father is
+not rich, he has a good competency. My life is far harder than
+yours. I only have twenty-three roubles a month to live on, but I
+don't wear mourning. [They sit down].
+
+MASHA. Happiness does not depend on riches; poor men are often
+happy.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. In theory, yes, but not in reality. Take my case,
+for instance; my mother, my two sisters, my little brother and I
+must all live somehow on my salary of twenty-three roubles a
+month. We have to eat and drink, I take it. You wouldn't have us
+go without tea and sugar, would you? Or tobacco? Answer me that,
+if you can.
+
+MASHA. [Looking in the direction of the stage] The play will soon
+begin.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, Nina Zarietchnaya is going to act in
+Treplieff's play. They love one another, and their two souls will
+unite to-night in the effort to interpret the same idea by
+different means. There is no ground on which your soul and mine
+can meet. I love you. Too restless and sad to stay at home, I
+tramp here every day, six miles and back, to be met only by your
+indifference. I am poor, my family is large, you can have no
+inducement to marry a man who cannot even find sufficient food
+for his own mouth.
+
+MASHA. It is not that. [She takes snuff] I am touched by your
+affection, but I cannot return it, that is all. [She offers him
+the snuff-box] Will you take some?
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. No, thank you. [A pause.]
+
+MASHA. The air is sultry; a storm is brewing for to-night. You do
+nothing but moralise or else talk about money. To you, poverty is
+the greatest misfortune that can befall a man, but I think it is
+a thousand times easier to go begging in rags than to-- You
+wouldn't understand that, though.
+
+SORIN leaning on a cane, and TREPLIEFF come in.
+
+SORIN. For some reason, my boy, country life doesn't suit me, and
+I am sure I shall never get used to it. Last night I went to bed
+at ten and woke at nine this morning, feeling as if, from
+oversleep, my brain had stuck to my skull. [Laughing] And yet I
+accidentally dropped off to sleep again after dinner, and feel
+utterly done up at this moment. It is like a nightmare.
+
+TREPLIEFF. There is no doubt that you should live in town. [He
+catches sight of MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO] You shall be called when
+the play begins, my friends, but you must not stay here now. Go
+away, please.
+
+SORIN. Miss Masha, will you kindly ask your father to leave the
+dog unchained? It howled so last night that my sister was unable
+to sleep.
+
+MASHA. You must speak to my father yourself. Please excuse me; I
+can't do so. [To MEDVIEDENKO] Come, let us go.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. You will let us know when the play begins?
+
+MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO go out.
+
+SORIN. I foresee that that dog is going to howl all night again.
+It is always this way in the country; I have never been able to
+live as I like here. I come down for a month's holiday, to rest
+and all, and am plagued so by their nonsense that I long to
+escape after the first day. [Laughing] I have always been glad to
+get away from this place, but I have been retired now, and this
+was the only place I had to come to. Willy-nilly, one must live
+somewhere.
+
+JACOB. [To TREPLIEFF] We are going to take a swim, Mr.
+Constantine.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Very well, but you must be back in ten minutes.
+
+JACOB. We will, sir.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Looking at the stage] Just like a real theatre! See,
+there we have the curtain, the foreground, the background, and
+all. No artificial scenery is needed. The eye travels direct to
+the lake, and rests on the horizon. The curtain will be raised as
+the moon rises at half-past eight.
+
+SORIN. Splendid!
+
+TREPLIEFF. Of course the whole effect will be ruined if Nina is
+late. She should be here by now, but her father and stepmother
+watch her so closely that it is like stealing her from a prison
+to get her away from home. [He straightens SORIN'S collar] Your
+hair and beard are all on end. Oughtn't you to have them trimmed?
+
+SORIN. [Smoothing his beard] They are the tragedy of my
+existence. Even when I was young I always looked as if I were
+drunk, and all. Women have never liked me. [Sitting down] Why is
+my sister out of temper?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Why? Because she is jealous and bored. [Sitting down
+beside SORIN] She is not acting this evening, but Nina is, and so
+she has set herself against me, and against the performance of
+the play, and against the play itself, which she hates without
+ever having read it.
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] Does she, really?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, she is furious because Nina is going to have a
+success on this little stage. [Looking at his watch] My mother is
+a psychological curiosity. Without doubt brilliant and talented,
+capable of sobbing over a novel, of reciting all Nekrasoff's
+poetry by heart, and of nursing the sick like an angel of heaven,
+you should see what happens if any one begins praising Duse to
+her! She alone must be praised and written about, raved over, her
+marvellous acting in "La Dame aux Camelias" extolled to the
+skies. As she cannot get all that rubbish in the country, she
+grows peevish and cross, and thinks we are all against her, and
+to blame for it all. She is superstitious, too. She dreads
+burning three candles, and fears the thirteenth day of the month.
+Then she is stingy. I know for a fact that she has seventy
+thousand roubles in a bank at Odessa, but she is ready to burst
+into tears if you ask her to lend you a penny.
+
+SORIN. You have taken it into your head that your mother dislikes
+your play, and the thought of it has excited you, and all. Keep
+calm; your mother adores you.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Pulling a flower to pieces] She loves me, loves me
+not; loves--loves me not; loves--loves me not! [Laughing] You
+see, she doesn't love me, and why should she? She likes life and
+love and gay clothes, and I am already twenty-five years old; a
+sufficient reminder to her that she is no longer young. When I am
+away she is only thirty-two, in my presence she is forty-three,
+and she hates me for it. She knows, too, that I despise the
+modern stage. She adores it, and imagines that she is working on
+it for the benefit of humanity and her sacred art, but to me the
+theatre is merely the vehicle of convention and prejudice. When
+the curtain rises on that little three-walled room, when those
+mighty geniuses, those high-priests of art, show us people in the
+act of eating, drinking, loving, walking, and wearing their
+coats, and attempt to extract a moral from their insipid talk;
+when playwrights give us under a thousand different guises the
+same, same, same old stuff, then I must needs run from it, as
+Maupassant ran from the Eiffel Tower that was about to crush him
+by its vulgarity.
+
+SORIN. But we can't do without a theatre.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No, but we must have it under a new form. If we can't
+do that, let us rather not have it at all. [Looking at his watch]
+I love my mother, I love her devotedly, but I think she leads a
+stupid life. She always has this man of letters of hers on her
+mind, and the newspapers are always frightening her to death, and
+I am tired of it. Plain, human egoism sometimes speaks in my
+heart, and I regret that my mother is a famous actress. If she
+were an ordinary woman I think I should be a happier man. What
+could be more intolerable and foolish than my position, Uncle,
+when I find myself the only nonentity among a crowd of her
+guests, all celebrated authors and artists? I feel that they only
+endure me because I am her son. Personally I am nothing, nobody.
+I pulled through my third year at college by the skin of my
+teeth, as they say. I have neither money nor brains, and on my
+passport you may read that I am simply a citizen of Kiev. So was
+my father, but he was a well-known actor. When the celebrities
+that frequent my mother's drawing-room deign to notice me at all,
+I know they only look at me to measure my insignificance; I read
+their thoughts, and suffer from humiliation.
+
+SORIN. Tell me, by the way, what is Trigorin like? I can't
+understand him, he is always so silent.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Trigorin is clever, simple, well-mannered, and a
+little, I might say, melancholic in disposition. Though still
+under forty, he is surfeited with praise. As for his stories,
+they are--how shall I put it?--pleasing, full of talent, but if
+you have read Tolstoi or Zola you somehow don't enjoy Trigorin.
+
+SORIN. Do you know, my boy, I like literary men. I once
+passionately desired two things: to marry, and to become an
+author. I have succeeded in neither. It must be pleasant to be
+even an insignificant author.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Listening] I hear footsteps! [He embraces his uncle]
+I cannot live without her; even the sound of her footsteps is
+music to me. I am madly happy. [He goes quickly to meet NINA, who
+comes in at that moment] My enchantress! My girl of dreams!
+
+NINA. [Excitedly] It can't be that I am late? No, I am not late.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Kissing her hands] No, no, no!
+
+NINA. I have been in a fever all day, I was so afraid my father
+would prevent my coming, but he and my stepmother have just gone
+driving. The sky is clear, the moon is rising. How I hurried to
+get here! How I urged my horse to go faster and faster!
+[Laughing] I am _so_ glad to see you! [She shakes hands with
+SORIN.]
+
+SORIN. Oho! Your eyes look as if you had been crying. You mustn't
+do that.
+
+NINA. It is nothing, nothing. Do let us hurry. I must go in half
+an hour. No, no, for heaven's sake do not urge me to stay. My
+father doesn't know I am here.
+
+TREPLIEFF. As a matter of fact, it is time to begin now. I must
+call the audience.
+
+SORIN. Let me call them--and all--I am going this minute. [He
+goes toward the right, begins to sing "The Two Grenadiers," then
+stops.] I was singing that once when a fellow-lawyer said to me:
+"You have a powerful voice, sir." Then he thought a moment and
+added, "But it is a disagreeable one!" [He goes out laughing.]
+
+NINA. My father and his wife never will let me come here; they
+call this place Bohemia and are afraid I shall become an actress.
+But this lake attracts me as it does the gulls. My heart is full
+of you. [She glances about her.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. We are alone.
+
+NINA. Isn't that some one over there?
+
+TREPLIEFF. No. [They kiss one another.]
+
+NINA. What is that tree?
+
+TREPLIEFF. An elm.
+
+NINA. Why does it look so dark?
+
+TREPLIEFF. It is evening; everything looks dark now. Don't go
+away early, I implore you.
+
+NINA. I must.
+
+TREPLIEFF. What if I were to follow you, Nina? I shall stand in
+your garden all night with my eyes on your window.
+
+NINA. That would be impossible; the watchman would see you, and
+Treasure is not used to you yet, and would bark.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I love you.
+
+NINA. Hush!
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Listening to approaching footsteps] Who is that? Is
+it you, Jacob?
+
+JACOB. [On the stage] Yes, sir.
+
+TREPLIEFF. To your places then. The moon is rising; the play must
+commence.
+
+NINA. Yes, sir.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Is the alcohol ready? Is the sulphur ready? There must
+be fumes of sulphur in the air when the red eyes shine out. [To
+NINA] Go, now, everything is ready. Are you nervous?
+
+NINA. Yes, very. I am not so much afraid of your mother as I am
+of Trigorin. I am terrified and ashamed to act before him; he is
+so famous. Is he young?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes.
+
+NINA. What beautiful stories he writes!
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Coldly] I have never read any of them, so I can't
+say.
+
+NINA. Your play is very hard to act; there are no living
+characters in it.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Living characters! Life must be represented not as it
+is, but as it ought to be; as it appears in dreams.
+
+NINA. There is so little action; it seems more like a recitation.
+I think love should always come into every play.
+
+NINA and TREPLIEFF go up onto the little stage; PAULINA and DORN
+come in.
+
+PAULINA. It is getting damp. Go back and put on your goloshes.
+
+DORN. I am quite warm.
+
+PAULINA. You never will take care of yourself; you are quite
+obstinate about it, and yet you are a doctor, and know quite well
+that damp air is bad for you. You like to see me suffer, that's
+what it is. You sat out on the terrace all yesterday evening on
+purpose.
+
+DORN. [Sings]
+
+   "Oh, tell me not that youth is wasted."
+
+PAULINA. You were so enchanted by the conversation of Madame
+Arkadina that you did not even notice the cold. Confess that you
+admire her.
+
+DORN. I am fifty-five years old.
+
+PAULINA. A trifle. That is not old for a man. You have kept your
+looks magnificently, and women still like you.
+
+DORN. What are you trying to tell me?
+
+PAULINA. You men are all ready to go down on your knees to an
+actress, all of you.
+
+DORN. [Sings]
+
+   "Once more I stand before thee."
+
+It is only right that artists should be made much of by society
+and treated differently from, let us say, merchants. It is a kind
+of idealism.
+
+PAULINA. When women have loved you and thrown themselves at your
+head, has that been idealism?
+
+DORN. [Shrugging his shoulders] I can't say. There has been a
+great deal that was admirable in my relations with women. In me
+they liked, above all, the superior doctor. Ten years ago, you
+remember, I was the only decent doctor they had in this part of
+the country--and then, I have always acted like a man of honour.
+
+PAULINA. [Seizes his hand] Dearest!
+
+DORN. Be quiet! Here they come.
+
+ARKADINA comes in on SORIN'S arm; also TRIGORIN, SHAMRAEFF,
+MEDVIEDENKO, and MASHA.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. She acted most beautifully at the Poltava Fair in
+1873; she was really magnificent. But tell me, too, where Tchadin
+the comedian is now? He was inimitable as Rasplueff, better than
+Sadofski. Where is he now?
+
+ARKADINA. Don't ask me where all those antediluvians are! I know
+nothing about them. [She sits down.]
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Sighing] Pashka Tchadin! There are none left like
+him. The stage is not what it was in his time. There were sturdy
+oaks growing on it then, where now but stumps remain.
+
+DORN. It is true that we have few dazzling geniuses these days,
+but, on the other hand, the average of acting is much higher.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. I cannot agree with you; however, that is a matter of
+taste, _de gustibus._
+
+Enter TREPLIEFF from behind the stage.
+
+ARKADINA. When will the play begin, my dear boy?
+
+TREPLIEFF. In a moment. I must ask you to have patience.
+
+ARKADINA. [Quoting from Hamlet] My son,
+
+  "Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;
+   And there I see such black grained spots
+   As will not leave their tinct."
+
+[A horn is blown behind the stage.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Attention, ladies and gentlemen! The play is about to
+begin. [A pause] I shall commence. [He taps the door with a stick,
+and speaks in a loud voice] O, ye time-honoured, ancient mists
+that drive at night across the surface of this lake, blind you
+our eyes with sleep, and show us in our dreams that which will
+be in twice ten thousand years!
+
+SORIN. There won't be anything in twice ten thousand years.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Then let them now show us that nothingness.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, let them--we are asleep.
+
+The curtain rises. A vista opens across the lake. The moon hangs
+low above the horizon and is reflected in the water. NINA,
+dressed in white, is seen seated on a great rock.
+
+NINA. All men and beasts, lions, eagles, and quails, horned
+stags, geese, spiders, silent fish that inhabit the waves,
+starfish from the sea, and creatures invisible to the eye--in one
+word, life--all, all life, completing the dreary round imposed
+upon it, has died out at last. A thousand years have passed since
+the earth last bore a living creature on her breast, and the
+unhappy moon now lights her lamp in vain. No longer are the cries
+of storks heard in the meadows, or the drone of beetles in the
+groves of limes. All is cold, cold. All is void, void, void. All
+is terrible, terrible-- [A pause] The bodies of all living
+creatures have dropped to dust, and eternal matter has
+transformed them into stones and water and clouds; but their
+spirits have flowed together into one, and that great world-soul
+am I! In me is the spirit of the great Alexander, the spirit of
+Napoleon, of Caesar, of Shakespeare, and of the tiniest leech
+that swims. In me the consciousness of man has joined hands with
+the instinct of the animal; I understand all, all, all, and each
+life lives again in me.
+
+[The will-o-the-wisps flicker out along the lake shore.]
+
+ARKADINA. [Whispers] What decadent rubbish is this?
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Imploringly] Mother!
+
+NINA. I am alone. Once in a hundred years my lips are opened, my
+voice echoes mournfully across the desert earth, and no one
+hears. And you, poor lights of the marsh, you do not hear me. You
+are engendered at sunset in the putrid mud, and flit wavering
+about the lake till dawn, unconscious, unreasoning, unwarmed by
+the breath of life. Satan, father of eternal matter, trembling
+lest the spark of life should glow in you, has ordered an
+unceasing movement of the atoms that compose you, and so you
+shift and change for ever. I, the spirit of the universe, I alone
+am immutable and eternal. [A pause] Like a captive in a dungeon
+deep and void, I know not where I am, nor what awaits me. One
+thing only is not hidden from me: in my fierce and obstinate
+battle with Satan, the source of the forces of matter, I am
+destined to be victorious in the end. Matter and spirit will then
+be one at last in glorious harmony, and the reign of freedom will
+begin on earth. But this can only come to pass by slow degrees,
+when after countless eons the moon and earth and shining Sirius
+himself shall fall to dust. Until that hour, oh, horror! horror!
+horror! [A pause. Two glowing red points are seen shining across
+the lake] Satan, my mighty foe, advances; I see his dread and
+lurid eyes.
+
+ARKADINA. I smell sulphur. Is that done on purpose?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes.
+
+ARKADINA. Oh, I see; that is part of the effect.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Mother!
+
+NINA. He longs for man--
+
+PAULINA. [To DORN] You have taken off your hat again! Put it on,
+you will catch cold.
+
+ARKADINA. The doctor has taken off his hat to Satan father of
+eternal matter--
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Loudly and angrily] Enough of this! There's an end to
+the performance. Down with the curtain!
+
+ARKADINA. Why, what are you so angry about?
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Stamping his foot] The curtain; down with it! [The
+curtain falls] Excuse me, I forgot that only a chosen few might
+write plays or act them. I have infringed the monopoly. I-- I---
+
+He would like to say more, but waves his hand instead, and goes
+out to the left.
+
+ARKADINA. What is the matter with him?
+
+SORIN. You should not handle youthful egoism so roughly, sister.
+
+ARKADINA. What did I say to him?
+
+SORIN. You hurt his feelings.
+
+ARKADINA. But he told me himself that this was all in fun, so I
+treated his play as if it were a comedy.
+
+SORIN. Nevertheless---
+
+ARKADINA. Now it appears that he has produced a masterpiece, if
+you please! I suppose it was not meant to amuse us at all, but
+that he arranged the performance and fumigated us with sulphur to
+demonstrate to us how plays should be written, and what is worth
+acting. I am tired of him. No one could stand his constant
+thrusts and sallies. He is a wilful, egotistic boy.
+
+SORIN. He had hoped to give you pleasure.
+
+ARKADINA. Is that so? I notice, though, that he did not choose an
+ordinary play, but forced his decadent trash on us. I am willing
+to listen to any raving, so long as it is not meant seriously,
+but in showing us this, he pretended to be introducing us to a
+new form of art, and inaugurating a new era. In my opinion, there
+was nothing new about it, it was simply an exhibition of bad
+temper.
+
+TRIGORIN. Everybody must write as he feels, and as best he may.
+
+ARKADINA. Let him write as he feels and can, but let him spare me
+his nonsense.
+
+DORN. Thou art angry, O Jove!
+
+ARKADINA. I am a woman, not Jove. [She lights a cigarette] And I
+am not angry, I am only sorry to see a young man foolishly
+wasting his time. I did not mean to hurt him.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. No one has any ground for separating life from
+matter, as the spirit may well consist of the union of material
+atoms. [Excitedly, to TRIGORIN] Some day you should write a play,
+and put on the stage the life of a schoolmaster. It is a hard,
+hard life.
+
+ARKADINA. I agree with you, but do not let us talk about plays or
+atoms now. This is such a lovely evening. Listen to the singing,
+friends, how sweet it sounds.
+
+PAULINA. Yes, they are singing across the water. [A pause.]
+
+ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] Sit down beside me here. Ten or fifteen
+years ago we had music and singing on this lake almost all night.
+There are six houses on its shores. All was noise and laughter
+and romance then, such romance! The young star and idol of them
+all in those days was this man here, [Nods toward DORN] Doctor
+Eugene Dorn. He is fascinating now, but he was irresistible then.
+But my conscience is beginning to prick me. Why did I hurt my
+poor boy? I am uneasy about him. [Loudly] Constantine!
+Constantine!
+
+MASHA. Shall I go and find him?
+
+ARKADINA. If you please, my dear.
+
+MASHA. [Goes off to the left, calling] Mr. Constantine! Oh, Mr.
+Constantine!
+
+NINA. [Comes in from behind the stage] I see that the play will
+never be finished, so now I can go home. Good evening. [She
+kisses ARKADINA and PAULINA.]
+
+SORIN. Bravo! Bravo!
+
+ARKADINA. Bravo! Bravo! We were quite charmed by your acting.
+With your looks and such a lovely voice it is a crime for you to
+hide yourself in the country. You must be very talented. It is
+your duty to go on the stage, do you hear me?
+
+NINA. It is the dream of my life, which will never come true.
+
+ARKADINA. Who knows? Perhaps it will. But let me present Monsieur
+Boris Trigorin.
+
+NINA. I am delighted to meet you. [Embarrassed] I have read all
+your books.
+
+ARKADINA. [Drawing NINA down beside her] Don't be afraid of him,
+dear. He is a simple, good-natured soul, even if he is a
+celebrity. See, he is embarrassed himself.
+
+DORN. Couldn't the curtain be raised now? It is depressing to
+have it down.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Loudly] Jacob, my man! Raise the curtain!
+
+NINA. [To TRIGORIN] It was a curious play, wasn't it?
+
+TRIGORIN. Very. I couldn't understand it at all, but I watched it
+with the greatest pleasure because you acted with such sincerity,
+and the setting was beautiful. [A pause] There must be a lot of
+fish in this lake.
+
+NINA. Yes, there are.
+
+TRIGORIN. I love fishing. I know of nothing pleasanter than to
+sit on a lake shore in the evening with one's eyes on a floating
+cork.
+
+NINA. Why, I should think that for one who has tasted the joys of
+creation, no other pleasure could exist.
+
+ARKADINA. Don't talk like that. He always begins to flounder when
+people say nice things to him.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. I remember when the famous Silva was singing once in
+the Opera House at Moscow, how delighted we all were when he took
+the low C. Well, you can imagine our astonishment when one of the
+church cantors, who happened to be sitting in the gallery, suddenly
+boomed out: "Bravo, Silva!" a whole octave lower. Like this: [In a
+deep bass voice] "Bravo, Silva!" The audience was left breathless.
+[A pause.]
+
+DORN. An angel of silence is flying over our heads.
+
+NINA. I must go. Good-bye.
+
+ARKADINA. Where to? Where must you go so early? We shan't allow
+it.
+
+NINA. My father is waiting for me.
+
+ARKADINA. How cruel he is, really. [They kiss each other] Then I
+suppose we can't keep you, but it is very hard indeed to let you
+go.
+
+NINA. If you only knew how hard it is for me to leave you all.
+
+ARKADINA. Somebody must see you home, my pet.
+
+NINA. [Startled] No, no!
+
+SORIN. [Imploringly] Don't go!
+
+NINA. I must.
+
+SORIN. Stay just one hour more, and all. Come now, really, you
+know.
+
+NINA. [Struggling against her desire to stay; through her tears]
+No, no, I can't. [She shakes hands with him and quickly goes
+out.]
+
+ARKADINA. An unlucky girl! They say that her mother left the
+whole of an immense fortune to her husband, and now the child is
+penniless because the father has already willed everything away
+to his second wife. It is pitiful.
+
+DORN. Yes, her papa is a perfect beast, and I don't mind saying
+so--it is what he deserves.
+
+SORIN. [Rubbing his chilled hands] Come, let us go in; the night
+is damp, and my legs are aching.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, you act as if they were turned to stone; you can
+hardly move them. Come, you unfortunate old man. [She takes his
+arm.]
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Offering his arm to his wife] Permit me, madame.
+
+SORIN. I hear that dog howling again. Won't you please have it
+unchained, Shamraeff?
+
+SHAMRAEFF. No, I really can't, sir. The granary is full of
+millet, and I am afraid thieves might break in if the dog were
+not there. [Walking beside MEDVIEDENKO] Yes, a whole octave
+lower: "Bravo, Silva!" and he wasn't a singer either, just a
+simple church cantor.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. What salary does the church pay its singers? [All go
+out except DORN.]
+
+DORN. I may have lost my judgment and my wits, but I must confess
+I liked that play. There was something in it. When the girl spoke
+of her solitude and the Devil's eyes gleamed across the lake, I
+felt my hands shaking with excitement. It was so fresh and naive.
+But here he comes; let me say something pleasant to him.
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in.
+
+TREPLIEFF. All gone already?
+
+DORN. I am here.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Masha has been yelling for me all over the park. An
+insufferable creature.
+
+DORN. Constantine, your play delighted me. It was strange, of
+course, and I did not hear the end, but it made a deep impression
+on me. You have a great deal of talent, and must persevere in
+your work.
+
+TREPLIEFF seizes his hand and squeezes it hard, then kisses him
+impetuously.
+
+DORN. Tut, tut! how excited you are. Your eyes are full of tears.
+Listen to me. You chose your subject in the realm of abstract
+thought, and you did quite right. A work of art should invariably
+embody some lofty idea. Only that which is seriously meant can
+ever be beautiful. How pale you are!
+
+TREPLIEFF. So you advise me to persevere?
+
+DORN. Yes, but use your talent to express only deep and eternal
+truths. I have led a quiet life, as you know, and am a contented
+man, but if I should ever experience the exaltation that an
+artist feels during his moments of creation, I think I should
+spurn this material envelope of my soul and everything connected
+with it, and should soar away into heights above this earth.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I beg your pardon, but where is Nina?
+
+DORN. And yet another thing: every work of art should have a
+definite object in view. You should know why you are writing, for
+if you follow the road of art without a goal before your eyes,
+you will lose yourself, and your genius will be your ruin.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Impetuously] Where is Nina?
+
+DORN. She has gone home.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [In despair] Gone home? What shall I do? I want to see
+her; I must see her! I shall follow her.
+
+DORN. My dear boy, keep quiet.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I am going. I must go.
+
+MASHA comes in.
+
+MASHA. Your mother wants you to come in, Mr. Constantine. She is
+waiting for you, and is very uneasy.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Tell her I have gone away. And for heaven's sake, all
+of you, leave me alone! Go away! Don't follow me about!
+
+DORN. Come, come, old chap, don't act like this; it isn't kind at
+all.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Through his tears] Good-bye, doctor, and thank you.
+
+TREPLIEFF goes out.
+
+DORN. [Sighing] Ah, youth, youth!
+
+MASHA. It is always "Youth, youth," when there is nothing else to
+be said.
+
+She takes snuff. DORN takes the snuff-box out of her hands and
+flings it into the bushes.
+
+DORN. Don't do that, it is horrid. [A pause] I hear music in the
+house. I must go in.
+
+MASHA. Wait a moment.
+
+DORN. What do you want?
+
+MASHA. Let me tell you again. I feel like talking. [She grows
+more and more excited] I do not love my father, but my heart
+turns to you. For some reason, I feel with all my soul that you
+are near to me. Help me! Help me, or I shall do something foolish
+and mock at my life, and ruin it. I am at the end of my strength.
+
+DORN. What is the matter? How can I help you?
+
+MASHA. I am in agony. No one, no one can imagine how I suffer.
+[She lays her head on his shoulder and speaks softly] I love
+Constantine.
+
+DORN. Oh, how excitable you all are! And how much love there is
+about this lake of spells! [Tenderly] But what can I do for you,
+my child? What? What?
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+ACT II
+
+The lawn in front of SORIN'S house. The house stands in the
+background, on a broad terrace. The lake, brightly reflecting the
+rays of the sun, lies to the left. There are flower-beds here and
+there. It is noon; the day is hot. ARKADINA, DORN, and MASHA are
+sitting on a bench on the lawn, in the shade of an old linden. An
+open book is lying on DORN'S knees.
+
+ARKADINA. [To MASHA] Come, get up. [They both get up] Stand
+beside me. You are twenty-two and I am almost twice your age.
+Tell me, Doctor, which of us is the younger looking?
+
+DORN. You are, of course.
+
+ARKADINA. You see! Now why is it? Because I work; my heart and
+mind are always busy, whereas you never move off the same spot.
+You don't live. It is a maxim of mine never to look into the
+future. I never admit the thought of old age or death, and just
+accept what comes to me.
+
+MASHA. I feel as if I had been in the world a thousand years, and
+I trail my life behind me like an endless scarf. Often I have no
+desire to live at all. Of course that is foolish. One ought to
+pull oneself together and shake off such nonsense.
+
+DORN. [Sings softly]
+
+   "Tell her, oh flowers--"
+
+ARKADINA. And then I keep myself as correct-looking as an
+Englishman. I am always well-groomed, as the saying is, and
+carefully dressed, with my hair neatly arranged. Do you think I
+should ever permit myself to leave the house half-dressed, with
+untidy hair? Certainly not! I have kept my looks by never letting
+myself slump as some women do. [She puts her arms akimbo, and
+walks up and down on the lawn] See me, tripping on tiptoe like a
+fifteen-year-old girl.
+
+DORN. I see. Nevertheless, I shall continue my reading. [He takes
+up his book] Let me see, we had come to the grain-dealer and the
+rats.
+
+ARKADINA. And the rats. Go on. [She sits down] No, give me the
+book, it is my turn to read. [She takes the book and looks for
+the place] And the rats. Ah, here it is. [She reads] "It is as
+dangerous for society to attract and indulge authors as it is for
+grain-dealers to raise rats in their granaries. Yet society loves
+authors. And so, when a woman has found one whom she wishes to
+make her own, she lays siege to him by indulging and flattering
+him." That may be so in France, but it certainly is not so in
+Russia. We do not carry out a programme like that. With us, a
+woman is usually head over ears in love with an author before she
+attempts to lay siege to him. You have an example before your
+eyes, in me and Trigorin.
+
+SORIN comes in leaning on a cane, with NINA beside him.
+MEDVIEDENKO follows, pushing an arm-chair.
+
+SORIN. [In a caressing voice, as if speaking to a child] So we
+are happy now, eh? We are enjoying ourselves to-day, are we?
+Father and stepmother have gone away to Tver, and we are free
+for three whole days!
+
+NINA. [Sits down beside ARKADINA, and embraces her] I am so
+happy. I belong to you now.
+
+SORIN. [Sits down in his arm-chair] She looks lovely to-day.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, she has put on her prettiest dress, and looks
+sweet. That was nice of you. [She kisses NINA] But we mustn't
+praise her too much; we shall spoil her. Where is Trigorin?
+
+NINA. He is fishing off the wharf.
+
+ARKADINA. I wonder he isn't bored. [She begins to read again.]
+
+NINA. What are you reading?
+
+ARKADINA. "On the Water," by Maupassant. [She reads a few lines
+to herself] But the rest is neither true nor interesting. [She
+lays down the book] I am uneasy about my son. Tell me, what is
+the matter with him? Why is he so dull and depressed lately? He
+spends all his days on the lake, and I scarcely ever see him any
+more.
+
+MASHA. His heart is heavy. [Timidly, to NINA] Please recite
+something from his play.
+
+NINA. [Shrugging her shoulders] Shall I? Is it so interesting?
+
+MASHA. [With suppressed rapture] When he recites, his eyes shine
+and his face grows pale. His voice is beautiful and sad, and he
+has the ways of a poet.
+
+SORIN begins to snore.
+
+DORN. Pleasant dreams!
+
+ARKADINA. Peter!
+
+SORIN. Eh?
+
+ARKADINA. Are you asleep?
+
+SORIN. Not a bit of it. [A pause.]
+
+ARKADINA. You don't do a thing for your health, brother, but you
+really ought to.
+
+DORN. The idea of doing anything for one's health at sixty-five!
+
+SORIN. One still wants to live at sixty-five.
+
+DORN. [Crossly] Ho! Take some camomile tea.
+
+ARKADINA. I think a journey to some watering-place would be good
+for him.
+
+DORN. Why, yes; he might go as well as not.
+
+ARKADINA. You don't understand.
+
+DORN. There is nothing to understand in this case; it is quite
+clear.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. He ought to give up smoking.
+
+SORIN. What nonsense! [A pause.]
+
+DORN. No, that is not nonsense. Wine and tobacco destroy the
+individuality. After a cigar or a glass of vodka you are no
+longer Peter Sorin, but Peter Sorin plus somebody else. Your ego
+breaks in two: you begin to think of yourself in the third
+person.
+
+SORIN. It is easy for you to condemn smoking and drinking; you
+have known what life is, but what about me? I have served in the
+Department of Justice for twenty-eight years, but I have never
+lived, I have never had any experiences. You are satiated with
+life, and that is why you have an inclination for philosophy, but
+I want to live, and that is why I drink my wine for dinner and
+smoke cigars, and all.
+
+DORN. One must take life seriously, and to take a cure at
+sixty-five and regret that one did not have more pleasure in
+youth is, forgive my saying so, trifling.
+
+MASHA. It must be lunch-time. [She walks away languidly, with a
+dragging step] My foot has gone to sleep.
+
+DORN. She is going to have a couple of drinks before lunch.
+
+SORIN. The poor soul is unhappy.
+
+DORN. That is a trifle, your honour.
+
+SORIN. You judge her like a man who has obtained all he wants in
+life.
+
+ARKADINA. Oh, what could be duller than this dear tedium of the
+country? The air is hot and still, nobody does anything but sit
+and philosophise about life. It is pleasant, my friends, to sit
+and listen to you here, but I had rather a thousand times sit
+alone in the room of a hotel learning a role by heart.
+
+NINA. [With enthusiasm] You are quite right. I understand how you
+feel.
+
+SORIN. Of course it is pleasanter to live in town. One can sit in
+one's library with a telephone at one's elbow, no one comes in
+without being first announced by the footman, the streets are
+full of cabs, and all---
+
+DORN. [Sings]
+
+   "Tell her, oh flowers---"
+
+SHAMRAEFF comes in, followed by PAULINA.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Here they are. How do you do? [He kisses ARKADINA'S
+hand and then NINA'S] I am delighted to see you looking so well.
+[To ARKADINA] My wife tells me that you mean to go to town with
+her to-day. Is that so?
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, that is what I had planned to do.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Hm--that is splendid, but how do you intend to get
+there, madam? We are hauling rye to-day, and all the men are
+busy. What horses would you take?
+
+ARKADINA. What horses? How do I know what horses we shall have?
+
+SORIN. Why, we have the carriage horses.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. The carriage horses! And where am I to find the
+harness for them? This is astonishing! My dear madam, I have the
+greatest respect for your talents, and would gladly sacrifice ten
+years of my life for you, but I cannot let you have any horses
+to-day.
+
+ARKADINA. But if I must go to town? What an extraordinary state
+of affairs!
+
+SHAMRAEFF. You do not know, madam, what it is to run a farm.
+
+ARKADINA. [In a burst of anger] That is an old story! Under these
+circumstances I shall go back to Moscow this very day. Order a
+carriage for me from the village, or I shall go to the station on
+foot.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [losing his temper] Under these circumstances I resign
+my position. You must find yourself another manager. [He goes
+out.]
+
+ARKADINA. It is like this every summer: every summer I am
+insulted here. I shall never set foot here again.
+
+She goes out to the left, in the direction of the wharf. In a few
+minutes she is seen entering the house, followed by TRIGORIN, who
+carries a bucket and fishing-rod.
+
+SORIN. [Losing his temper] What the deuce did he mean by his
+impudence? I want all the horses brought here at once!
+
+NINA. [To PAULINA] How could he refuse anything to Madame
+Arkadina, the famous actress? Is not every wish, every caprice
+even, of hers, more important than any farm work? This is
+incredible.
+
+PAULINA. [In despair] What can I do about it? Put yourself in my
+place and tell me what I can do.
+
+SORIN. [To NINA] Let us go and find my sister, and all beg her
+not to go. [He looks in the direction in which SHAMRAEFF went
+out] That man is insufferable; a regular tyrant.
+
+NINA. [Preventing him from getting up] Sit still, sit still, and
+let us wheel you. [She and MEDVIEDENKO push the chair before
+them] This is terrible!
+
+SORIN. Yes, yes, it is terrible; but he won't leave. I shall have
+a talk with him in a moment. [They go out. Only DORN and PAULINA
+are left.]
+
+DORN. How tiresome people are! Your husband deserves to be thrown
+out of here neck and crop, but it will all end by this old granny
+Sorin and his sister asking the man's pardon. See if it doesn't.
+
+PAULINA. He has sent the carriage horses into the fields too.
+These misunderstandings occur every day. If you only knew how
+they excite me! I am ill; see! I am trembling all over! I cannot
+endure his rough ways. [Imploringly] Eugene, my darling, my
+beloved, take me to you. Our time is short; we are no longer
+young; let us end deception and concealment, even though it is
+only at the end of our lives. [A pause.]
+
+DORN. I am fifty-five years old. It is too late now for me to
+change my ways of living.
+
+PAULINA. I know that you refuse me because there are other women
+who are near to you, and you cannot take everybody. I understand.
+Excuse me--I see I am only bothering you.
+
+NINA is seen near the house picking a bunch of flowers.
+
+DORN. No, it is all right.
+
+PAULINA. I am tortured by jealousy. Of course you are a doctor
+and cannot escape from women. I understand.
+
+DORN. [TO NINA, who comes toward him] How are things in there?
+
+NINA. Madame Arkadina is crying, and Sorin is having an attack of
+asthma.
+
+DORN. Let us go and give them both some camomile tea.
+
+NINA. [Hands him the bunch of flowers] Here are some flowers for
+you.
+
+DORN. Thank you. [He goes into the house.]
+
+PAULINA. [Following him] What pretty flowers! [As they reach the
+house she says in a low voice] Give me those flowers! Give them
+to me!
+
+DORN hands her the flowers; she tears them to pieces and flings
+them away. They both go into the house.
+
+NINA. [Alone] How strange to see a famous actress weeping, and
+for such a trifle! Is it not strange, too, that a famous author
+should sit fishing all day? He is the idol of the public, the
+papers are full of him, his photograph is for sale everywhere,
+his works have been translated into many foreign languages, and
+yet he is overjoyed if he catches a couple of minnows. I always
+thought famous people were distant and proud; I thought they
+despised the common crowd which exalts riches and birth, and
+avenged themselves on it by dazzling it with the
+inextinguishable honour and glory of their fame. But here I see
+them weeping and playing cards and flying into passions like
+everybody else.
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in without a hat on, carrying a gun and a dead
+seagull.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Are you alone here?
+
+NINA. Yes.
+
+TREPLIEFF lays the sea-gull at her feet.
+
+NINA. What do you mean by this?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I was base enough to-day to kill this gull. I lay it
+at your feet.
+
+NINA. What is happening to you? [She picks up the gull and stands
+looking at it.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. [After a pause] So shall I soon end my own life.
+
+NINA. You have changed so that I fail to recognise you.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, I have changed since the time when I ceased to
+recognise you. You have failed me; your look is cold; you do not
+like to have me near you.
+
+NINA. You have grown so irritable lately, and you talk so darkly
+and symbolically that you must forgive me if I fail to follow
+you. I am too simple to understand you.
+
+TREPLIEFF. All this began when my play failed so dismally. A
+woman never can forgive failure. I have burnt the manuscript to
+the last page. Oh, if you could only fathom my unhappiness! Your
+estrangement is to me terrible, incredible; it is as if I had
+suddenly waked to find this lake dried up and sunk into the
+earth. You say you are too simple to understand me; but, oh, what
+is there to understand? You disliked my play, you have no faith
+in my powers, you already think of me as commonplace and
+worthless, as many are. [Stamping his foot] How well I can
+understand your feelings! And that understanding is to me like a
+dagger in the brain. May it be accursed, together with my
+stupidity, which sucks my life-blood like a snake! [He sees
+TRIGORIN, who approaches reading a book] There comes real genius,
+striding along like another Hamlet, and with a book, too.
+[Mockingly] "Words, words, words." You feel the warmth of that
+sun already, you smile, your eyes melt and glow liquid in its
+rays. I shall not disturb you. [He goes out.]
+
+TRIGORIN. [Making notes in his book] Takes snuff and drinks
+vodka; always wears black dresses; is loved by a schoolteacher--
+
+NINA. How do you do?
+
+TRIGORIN. How are you, Miss Nina? Owing to an unforeseen
+development of circumstances, it seems that we are leaving here
+today. You and I shall probably never see each other again, and I
+am sorry for it. I seldom meet a young and pretty girl now; I can
+hardly remember how it feels to be nineteen, and the young girls
+in my books are seldom living characters. I should like to change
+places with you, if but for an hour, to look out at the world
+through your eyes, and so find out what sort of a little person
+you are.
+
+NINA. And I should like to change places with you.
+
+TRIGORIN. Why?
+
+NINA. To find out how a famous genius feels. What is it like to
+be famous? What sensations does it give you?
+
+TRIGORIN. What sensations? I don't believe it gives any.
+[Thoughtfully] Either you exaggerate my fame, or else, if it
+exists, all I can say is that one simply doesn't feel fame in any
+way.
+
+NINA. But when you read about yourself in the papers?
+
+TRIGORIN. If the critics praise me, I am happy; if they condemn
+me, I am out of sorts for the next two days.
+
+NINA. This is a wonderful world. If you only knew how I envy you!
+Men are born to different destinies. Some dully drag a weary,
+useless life behind them, lost in the crowd, unhappy, while to
+one out of a million, as to you, for instance, comes a bright
+destiny full of interest and meaning. You are lucky.
+
+TRIGORIN. I, lucky? [He shrugs his shoulders] H-m-- I hear you
+talking about fame, and happiness, and bright destinies, and
+those fine words of yours mean as much to me--forgive my saying
+so--as sweetmeats do, which I never eat. You are very young, and
+very kind.
+
+NINA. Your life is beautiful.
+
+TRIGORIN. I see nothing especially lovely about it. [He looks at
+his watch] Excuse me, I must go at once, and begin writing again.
+I am in a hurry. [He laughs] You have stepped on my pet corn, as
+they say, and I am getting excited, and a little cross. Let us
+discuss this bright and beautiful life of mine, though. [After a
+few moments' thought] Violent obsessions sometimes lay hold of a
+man: he may, for instance, think day and night of nothing but the
+moon. I have such a moon. Day and night I am held in the grip of
+one besetting thought, to write, write, write! Hardly have I
+finished one book than something urges me to write another, and
+then a third, and then a fourth--I write ceaselessly. I am, as it
+were, on a treadmill. I hurry for ever from one story to another,
+and can't help myself. Do you see anything bright and beautiful
+in that? Oh, it is a wild life! Even now, thrilled as I am by
+talking to you, I do not forget for an instant that an unfinished
+story is awaiting me. My eye falls on that cloud there, which has
+the shape of a grand piano; I instantly make a mental note that I
+must remember to mention in my story a cloud floating by that
+looked like a grand piano. I smell heliotrope; I mutter to
+myself: a sickly smell, the colour worn by widows; I must
+remember that in writing my next description of a summer evening.
+I catch an idea in every sentence of yours or of my own, and
+hasten to lock all these treasures in my literary store-room,
+thinking that some day they may be useful to me. As soon as I
+stop working I rush off to the theatre or go fishing, in the hope
+that I may find oblivion there, but no! Some new subject for a
+story is sure to come rolling through my brain like an iron
+cannonball. I hear my desk calling, and have to go back to it and
+begin to write, write, write, once more. And so it goes for
+everlasting. I cannot escape myself, though I feel that I am
+consuming my life. To prepare the honey I feed to unknown crowds,
+I am doomed to brush the bloom from my dearest flowers, to tear
+them from their stems, and trample the roots that bore them under
+foot. Am I not a madman? Should I not be treated by those who
+know me as one mentally diseased? Yet it is always the same, same
+old story, till I begin to think that all this praise and
+admiration must be a deception, that I am being hoodwinked
+because they know I am crazy, and I sometimes tremble lest I
+should be grabbed from behind and whisked off to a lunatic
+asylum. The best years of my youth were made one continual agony
+for me by my writing. A young author, especially if at first he
+does not make a success, feels clumsy, ill-at-ease, and
+superfluous in the world. His nerves are all on edge and
+stretched to the point of breaking; he is irresistibly attracted
+to literary and artistic people, and hovers about them unknown
+and unnoticed, fearing to look them bravely in the eye, like a
+man with a passion for gambling, whose money is all gone. I did
+not know my readers, but for some reason I imagined they were
+distrustful and unfriendly; I was mortally afraid of the public,
+and when my first play appeared, it seemed to me as if all the
+dark eyes in the audience were looking at it with enmity, and all
+the blue ones with cold indifference. Oh, how terrible it was!
+What agony!
+
+NINA. But don't your inspiration and the act of creation give you
+moments of lofty happiness?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes. Writing is a pleasure to me, and so is reading the
+proofs, but no sooner does a book leave the press than it becomes
+odious to me; it is not what I meant it to be; I made a mistake
+to write it at all; I am provoked and discouraged. Then the
+public reads it and says: "Yes, it is clever and pretty, but not
+nearly as good as Tolstoi," or "It is a lovely thing, but not as
+good as Turgenieff's 'Fathers and Sons,' " and so it will always
+be. To my dying day I shall hear people say: "Clever and pretty;
+clever and pretty," and nothing more; and when I am gone, those
+that knew me will say as they pass my grave: "Here lies Trigorin,
+a clever writer, but he was not as good as Turgenieff."
+
+NINA. You must excuse me, but I decline to understand what you
+are talking about. The fact is, you have been spoilt by your
+success.
+
+TRIGORIN. What success have I had? I have never pleased myself;
+as a writer, I do not like myself at all. The trouble is that I
+am made giddy, as it were, by the fumes of my brain, and often
+hardly know what I am writing. I love this lake, these trees, the
+blue heaven; nature's voice speaks to me and wakes a feeling of
+passion in my heart, and I am overcome by an uncontrollable
+desire to write. But I am not only a painter of landscapes, I am
+a man of the city besides. I love my country, too, and her
+people; I feel that, as a writer, it is my duty to speak of their
+sorrows, of their future, also of science, of the rights of man,
+and so forth. So I write on every subject, and the public hounds
+me on all sides, sometimes in anger, and I race and dodge like a
+fox with a pack of hounds on his trail. I see life and knowledge
+flitting away before me. I am left behind them like a peasant who
+has missed his train at a station, and finally I come back to the
+conclusion that all I am fit for is to describe landscapes, and
+that whatever else I attempt rings abominably false.
+
+NINA. You work too hard to realise the importance of your
+writings. What if you are discontented with yourself? To others
+you appear a great and splendid man. If I were a writer like you
+I should devote my whole life to the service of the Russian
+people, knowing at the same time that their welfare depended on
+their power to rise to the heights I had attained, and the people
+should send me before them in a chariot of triumph.
+
+TRIGORIN. In a chariot? Do you think I am Agamemnon? [They both
+smile.]
+
+NINA. For the bliss of being a writer or an actress I could
+endure want, and disillusionment, and the hatred of my friends,
+and the pangs of my own dissatisfaction with myself; but I should
+demand in return fame, real, resounding fame! [She covers her
+face with her hands] Whew! My head reels!
+
+THE VOICE OF ARKADINA. [From inside the house] Boris! Boris!
+
+TRIGORIN. She is calling me, probably to come and pack, but I
+don't want to leave this place. [His eyes rest on the lake] What
+a blessing such beauty is!
+
+NINA. Do you see that house there, on the far shore?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes.
+
+NINA. That was my dead mother's home. I was born there, and have
+lived all my life beside this lake. I know every little island in
+it.
+
+TRIGORIN. This is a beautiful place to live. [He catches sight of
+the dead sea-gull] What is that?
+
+NINA. A gull. Constantine shot it.
+
+TRIGORIN. What a lovely bird! Really, I can't bear to go away.
+Can't you persuade Irina to stay? [He writes something in his
+note-book.]
+
+NINA. What are you writing?
+
+TRIGORIN. Nothing much, only an idea that occurred to me. [He
+puts the book back in his pocket] An idea for a short story. A
+young girl grows up on the shores of a lake, as you have. She
+loves the lake as the gulls do, and is as happy and free as they.
+But a man sees her who chances to come that way, and he destroys
+her out of idleness, as this gull here has been destroyed. [A
+pause. ARKADINA appears at one of the windows.]
+
+ARKADINA. Boris! Where are you?
+
+TRIGORIN. I am coming this minute.
+
+He goes toward the house, looking back at NINA. ARKADINA remains
+at the window.
+
+TRIGORIN. What do you want?
+
+ARKADINA. We are not going away, after all.
+
+TRIGORIN goes into the house. NINA comes forward and stands lost
+in thought.
+
+NINA. It is a dream!
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+ACT III
+
+The dining-room of SORIN'S house. Doors open out of it to the
+right and left. A table stands in the centre of the room. Trunks
+and boxes encumber the floor, and preparations for departure are
+evident. TRIGORIN is sitting at a table eating his breakfast, and
+MASHA is standing beside him.
+
+MASHA. I am telling you all these things because you write books
+and they may be useful to you. I tell you honestly, I should not
+have lived another day if he had wounded himself fatally. Yet I
+am courageous; I have decided to tear this love of mine out of my
+heart by the roots.
+
+TRIGORIN. How will you do it?
+
+MASHA. By marrying Medviedenko.
+
+TRIGORIN. The school-teacher?
+
+MASHA. Yes.
+
+TRIGORIN. I don't see the necessity for that.
+
+MASHA. Oh, if you knew what it is to love without hope for years
+and years, to wait for ever for something that will never come! I
+shall not marry for love, but marriage will at least be a change,
+and will bring new cares to deaden the memories of the past.
+Shall we have another drink?
+
+TRIGORIN. Haven't you had enough?
+
+MASHA. Fiddlesticks! [She fills a glass] Don't look at me with
+that expression on your face. Women drink oftener than you
+imagine, but most of them do it in secret, and not openly, as I
+do. They do indeed, and it is always either vodka or brandy.
+[They touch glasses] To your good health! You are so easy to get
+on with that I am sorry to see you go. [They drink.]
+
+TRIGORIN. And I am sorry to leave.
+
+MASHA. You should ask her to stay.
+
+TRIGORIN. She would not do that now. Her son has been behaving
+outrageously. First he attempted suicide, and now I hear he is
+going to challenge me to a duel, though what his provocation may
+be I can't imagine. He is always sulking and sneering and
+preaching about a new form of art, as if the field of art were
+not large enough to accommodate both old and new without the
+necessity of jostling.
+
+MASHA. It is jealousy. However, that is none of my business. [A
+pause. JACOB walks through the room carrying a trunk; NINA comes
+in and stands by the window] That schoolteacher of mine is none
+too clever, but he is very good, poor man, and he loves me
+dearly, and I am sorry for him. However, let me say good-bye and
+wish you a pleasant journey. Remember me kindly in your thoughts.
+[She shakes hands with him] Thanks for your goodwill. Send me
+your books, and be sure to write something in them; nothing
+formal, but simply this: "To Masha, who, forgetful of her origin,
+for some unknown reason is living in this world." Good-bye. [She
+goes out.]
+
+NINA. [Holding out her closed hand to TRIGORIN] Is it odd or
+even?
+
+TRIGORIN. Even.
+
+NINA. [With a sigh] No, it is odd. I had only one pea in my hand.
+I wanted to see whether I was to become an actress or not. If
+only some one would advise me what to do!
+
+TRIGORIN. One cannot give advice in a case like this. [A pause.]
+
+NINA. We shall soon part, perhaps never to meet again. I should
+like you to accept this little medallion as a remembrance of me.
+I have had your initials engraved on it, and on this side is the
+name of one of your books: "Days and Nights."
+
+TRIGORIN. How sweet of you! [He kisses the medallion] It is a
+lovely present.
+
+NINA. Think of me sometimes.
+
+TRIGORIN. I shall never forget you. I shall always remember you
+as I saw you that bright day--do you recall it?--a week ago, when
+you wore your light dress, and we talked together, and the white
+seagull lay on the bench beside us.
+
+NINA. [Lost in thought] Yes, the sea-gull. [A pause] I beg you to
+let me see you alone for two minutes before you go.
+
+She goes out to the left. At the same moment ARKADINA comes in
+from the right, followed by SORIN in a long coat, with his orders
+on his breast, and by JACOB, who is busy packing.
+
+ARKADINA. Stay here at home, you poor old man. How could you pay
+visits with that rheumatism of yours? [To TRIGORIN] Who left the
+room just now, was it Nina?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes.
+
+ARKADINA. I beg your pardon; I am afraid we interrupted you. [She
+sits down] I think everything is packed. I am absolutely
+exhausted.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Reading the inscription on the medallion] "Days and
+Nights, page 121, lines 11 and 12."
+
+JACOB. [Clearing the table] Shall I pack your fishing-rods, too,
+sir?
+
+TRIGORIN. Yes, I shall need them, but you can give my books away.
+
+JACOB. Very well, sir.
+
+TRIGORIN. [To himself] Page 121, lines 11 and 12. [To ARKADINA]
+Have we my books here in the house?
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, they are in my brother's library, in the corner
+cupboard.
+
+TRIGORIN. Page 121-- [He goes out.]
+
+SORIN. You are going away, and I shall be lonely without you.
+
+ARKADINA. What would you do in town?
+
+SORIN. Oh, nothing in particular, but somehow-- [He laughs] They
+are soon to lay the corner-stone of the new court-house here. How
+I should like to leap out of this minnow-pond, if but for an hour
+or two! I am tired of lying here like an old cigarette stump. I
+have ordered the carriage for one o'clock. We can go away
+together.
+
+ARKADINA. [After a pause] No, you must stay here. Don't be
+lonely, and don't catch cold. Keep an eye on my boy. Take good
+care of him; guide him along the proper paths. [A pause] I am
+going away, and so shall never find out why Constantine shot
+himself, but I think the chief reason was jealousy, and the
+sooner I take Trigorin away, the better.
+
+SORIN. There were--how shall I explain it to you?--other reasons
+besides jealousy for his act. Here is a clever young chap living
+in the depths of the country, without money or position, with no
+future ahead of him, and with nothing to do. He is ashamed and
+afraid of being so idle. I am devoted to him and he is fond of
+me, but nevertheless he feels that he is useless here, that he is
+little more than a dependent in this house. It is the pride in
+him.
+
+ARKADINA. He is a misery to me! [Thoughtfully] He might possibly
+enter the army.
+
+SORIN. [Gives a whistle, and then speaks with hesitation] It
+seems to me that the best thing for him would be if you were to
+let him have a little money. For one thing, he ought to be
+allowed to dress like a human being. See how he looks! Wearing
+the same little old coat that he has had for three years, and he
+doesn't even possess an overcoat! [Laughing] And it wouldn't hurt
+the youngster to sow a few wild oats; let him go abroad, say, for
+a time. It wouldn't cost much.
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, but-- However, I think I might manage about his
+clothes, but I couldn't let him go abroad. And no, I don't think
+I can let him have his clothes even, now. [Decidedly] I have no
+money at present.
+
+SORIN laughs.
+
+ARKADINA. I haven't indeed.
+
+SORIN. [Whistles] Very well. Forgive me, darling; don't be angry.
+You are a noble, generous woman!
+
+ARKADINA. [Weeping] I really haven't the money.
+
+SORIN. If I had any money of course I should let him have some
+myself, but I haven't even a penny. The farm manager takes my
+pension from me and puts it all into the farm or into cattle or
+bees, and in that way it is always lost for ever. The bees die,
+the cows die, they never let me have a horse.
+
+ARKADINA. Of course I have some money, but I am an actress and my
+expenses for dress alone are enough to bankrupt me.
+
+SORIN. You are a dear, and I am very fond of you, indeed I am.
+But something is the matter with me again. [He staggers] I feel
+giddy. [He leans against the table] I feel faint, and all.
+
+ARKADINA. [Frightened ] Peter! [She tries to support him] Peter!
+dearest! [She calls] Help! Help!
+
+TREPLIEFF and MEDVIEDENKO come in; TREPLIEFF has a bandage around
+his head.
+
+ARKADINA. He is fainting!
+
+SORIN. I am all right. [He smiles and drinks some water] It is
+all over now.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [To his mother] Don't be frightened, mother, these
+attacks are not dangerous; my uncle often has them now. [To his
+uncle] You must go and lie down, Uncle.
+
+SORIN. Yes, I think I shall, for a few minutes. I am going to
+Moscow all the same, but I shall lie down a bit before I start.
+[He goes out leaning on his cane.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. [Giving him his arm] Do you know this riddle? On
+four legs in the morning; on two legs at noon; and on three legs
+in the evening?
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] Yes, exactly, and on one's back at night. Thank
+you, I can walk alone.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Dear me, what formality! [He and SORIN go out.]
+
+ARKADINA. He gave me a dreadful fright.
+
+TREPLIEFF. It is not good for him to live in the country. Mother,
+if you would only untie your purse-strings for once, and lend him
+a thousand roubles! He could then spend a whole year in town.
+
+ARKADINA. I have no money. I am an actress and not a banker. [A
+pause.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Please change my bandage for me, mother, you do it so
+gently.
+
+ARKADINA goes to the cupboard  and takes out a box of bandages
+and a bottle of iodoform.
+
+ARKADINA. The doctor is late.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, he promised to be here at nine, and now it is
+noon already.
+
+ARKADINA. Sit down. [She takes the bandage off his head] You look
+as if you had a turban on. A stranger that was in the kitchen
+yesterday asked to what nationality you belonged. Your wound is
+almost healed. [She kisses his head] You won't be up to any more
+of these silly tricks again, will you, when I am gone?
+
+TREPLIEFF. No, mother. I did that in a moment of insane despair,
+when I had lost all control over myself. It will never happen
+again. [He kisses her hand] Your touch is golden. I remember when
+you were still acting at the State Theatre, long ago, when I was
+still a little chap, there was a fight one day in our court, and
+a poor washerwoman was almost beaten to death. She was picked up
+unconscious, and you nursed her till she was well, and bathed her
+children in the washtubs. Have you forgotten it?
+
+ARKADINA. Yes, entirely. [She puts on a new bandage.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Two ballet dancers lived in the same house, and they
+used to come and drink coffee with you.
+
+ARKADINA. I remember that.
+
+TREPLIEFF. They were very pious. [A pause] I love you again,
+these last few days, as tenderly and trustingly as I did as a
+child. I have no one left me now but you. Why, why do you let
+yourself be controlled by that man?
+
+ARKADINA. You don't understand him, Constantine. He has a
+wonderfully noble personality.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nevertheless, when he has been told that I wish to
+challenge him to a duel his nobility does not prevent him from
+playing the coward. He is about to beat an ignominious retreat.
+
+ARKADINA. What nonsense! I have asked him myself to go.
+
+TREPLIEFF. A noble personality indeed! Here we are almost
+quarrelling over him, and he is probably in the garden laughing
+at us at this very moment, or else enlightening Nina's mind and
+trying to persuade her into thinking him a man of genius.
+
+ARKADINA. You enjoy saying unpleasant things to me. I have the
+greatest respect for that man, and I must ask you not to speak
+ill of him in my presence.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I have no respect for him at all. You want me to think
+him a genius, as you do, but I refuse to lie: his books make me
+sick.
+
+ARKADINA. You envy him. There is nothing left for people with no
+talent and mighty pretensions to do but to criticise those who
+are really gifted. I hope you enjoy the consolation it brings.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [With irony] Those who are really gifted, indeed!
+[Angrily] I am cleverer than any of you, if it comes to that! [He
+tears the bandage off his head] You are the slaves of convention,
+you have seized the upper hand and now lay down as law everything
+that you do; all else you strangle and trample on. I refuse to
+accept your point of view, yours and his, I refuse!
+
+ARKADINA. That is the talk of a decadent.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Go back to your beloved stage and act the miserable
+ditch-water plays you so much admire!
+
+ARKADINA. I never acted in a play like that in my life. You
+couldn't write even the trashiest music-hall farce, you idle
+good-for-nothing!
+
+TREPLIEFF. Miser!
+
+ARKADINA. Rag-bag!
+
+TREPLIEFF sits down and begins to cry softly.
+
+ARKADINA. [Walking up and down in great excitement] Don't cry!
+You mustn't cry! [She bursts into tears] You really mustn't. [She
+kisses his forehead, his cheeks, his head] My darling child,
+forgive me. Forgive your wicked mother.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Embracing her] Oh, if you could only know what it is
+to have lost everything under heaven! She does not love me. I see
+I shall never be able to write. Every hope has deserted me.
+
+ARKADINA. Don't despair. This will all pass. He is going away
+to-day, and she will love you once more. [She wipes away his
+tears] Stop crying. We have made peace again.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Kissing her hand] Yes, mother.
+
+ARKADINA. [Tenderly] Make your peace with him, too. Don't fight
+with him. You surely won't fight?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I won't, but you must not insist on my seeing him
+again, mother, I couldn't stand it. [TRIGORIN comes in] There he
+is; I am going. [He quickly puts the medicines away in the
+cupboard] The doctor will attend to my head.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Looking through the pages of a book] Page 121, lines
+11 and 12; here it is. [He reads] "If at any time you should have
+need of my life, come and take it."
+
+TREPLIEFF picks up the bandage off the floor and goes out.
+
+ARKADINA. [Looking at her watch] The carriage will soon be here.
+
+TRIGORIN. [To himself] If at any time you should have need of my
+life, come and take it.
+
+ARKADINA. I hope your things are all packed.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Impatiently] Yes, yes. [In deep thought] Why do I hear
+a note of sadness that wrings my heart in this cry of a pure
+soul? If at any time you should have need of my life, come and
+take it. [To ARKADINA] Let us stay here one more day!
+
+ARKADINA shakes her head.
+
+TRIGORIN. Do let us stay!
+
+ARKADINA. I know, dearest, what keeps you here, but you must
+control yourself. Be sober; your emotions have intoxicated you a
+little.
+
+TRIGORIN. You must be sober, too. Be sensible; look upon what has
+happened as a true friend would. [Taking her hand] You are
+capable of self-sacrifice. Be a friend to me and release me!
+
+ARKADINA. [In deep excitement] Are you so much in love?
+
+TRIGORIN. I am irresistibly impelled toward her. It may be that
+this is just what I need.
+
+ARKADINA. What, the love of a country girl? Oh, how little you
+know yourself!
+
+TRIGORIN. People sometimes walk in their sleep, and so I feel as
+if I were asleep, and dreaming of her as I stand here talking to
+you. My imagination is shaken by the sweetest and most glorious
+visions. Release me!
+
+ARKADINA. [Shuddering] No, no! I am only an ordinary woman; you
+must not say such things to me. Do not torment me, Boris; you
+frighten me.
+
+TRIGORIN. You could be an extraordinary woman if you only would.
+Love alone can bring happiness on earth, love the enchanting, the
+poetical love of youth, that sweeps away the sorrows of the
+world. I had no time for it when I was young and struggling with
+want and laying siege to the literary fortress, but now at last
+this love has come to me. I see it beckoning; why should I fly?
+
+ARKADINA. [With anger] You are mad!
+
+TRIGORIN. Release me.
+
+ARKADINA. You have all conspired together to torture me to-day.
+[She weeps.]
+
+TRIGORIN. [Clutching his head desperately] She doesn't understand
+me! She won't understand me!
+
+ARKADINA. Am I then so old and ugly already that you can talk to
+me like this without any shame about another woman? [She embraces
+and kisses him] Oh, you have lost your senses! My splendid, my
+glorious friend, my love for you is the last chapter of my life.
+[She falls on her knees] You are my pride, my joy, my light. [She
+embraces his knees] I could never endure it should you desert me,
+if only for an hour; I should go mad. Oh, my wonder, my marvel,
+my king!
+
+TRIGORIN. Some one might come in. [He helps her to rise.]
+
+ARKADINA. Let them come! I am not ashamed of my love. [She kisses
+his hands] My jewel! My despair! You want to do a foolish thing,
+but I don't want you to do it. I shan't let you do it! [She
+laughs] You are mine, you are mine! This forehead is mine, these
+eyes are mine, this silky hair is mine. All your being is mine.
+You are so clever, so wise, the first of all living writers; you
+are the only hope of your country. You are so fresh, so simple,
+so deeply humourous. You can bring out every feature of a man or
+of a landscape in a single line, and your characters live and
+breathe. Do you think that these words are but the incense of
+flattery? Do you think I am not speaking the truth? Come, look
+into my eyes; look deep; do you find lies there? No, you see that
+I alone know how to treasure you. I alone tell you the truth. Oh,
+my very dear, you will go with me? You will? You will not forsake
+me?
+
+TRIGORIN. I have no will of my own; I never had. I am too
+indolent, too submissive, too phlegmatic, to have any. Is it
+possible that women like that? Take me. Take me away with you,
+but do not let me stir a step from your side.
+
+ARKADINA. [To herself] Now he is mine! [Carelessly, as if nothing
+unusual had happened] Of course you must stay here if you really
+want to. I shall go, and you can follow in a week's time. Yes,
+really, why should you hurry away?
+
+TRIGORIN. Let us go together.
+
+ARKADINA. As you like. Let us go together then. [A pause.
+TRIGORIN writes something in his note-book] What are you writing?
+
+TRIGORIN. A happy expression I heard this morning: "A grove of
+maiden pines." It may be useful. [He yawns] So we are really off
+again, condemned once more to railway carriages, to stations and
+restaurants, to Hamburger steaks and endless arguments!
+
+SHAMRAEFF comes in.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. I am sorry to have to inform you that your carriage is
+at the door. It is time to start, honoured madam, the train
+leaves at two-five. Would you be kind enough, madam, to remember
+to inquire for me where Suzdaltzeff the actor is now? Is he still
+alive, I wonder? Is he well? He and I have had many a jolly time
+together. He was inimitable in "The Stolen Mail." A tragedian
+called Izmailoff was in the same company, I remember, who was
+also quite remarkable. Don't hurry, madam, you still have five
+minutes. They were both of them conspirators once, in the same
+melodrama, and one night when in the course of the play they were
+suddenly discovered, instead of saying "We have been trapped!"
+Izmailoff cried out: "We have been rapped!" [He laughs] Rapped!
+
+While he has been talking JACOB has been busy with the trunks,
+and the maid has brought ARKADINA her hat, coat, parasol, and
+gloves. The cook looks hesitatingly through the door on the
+right, and finally comes into the room. PAULINA comes in.
+MEDVIEDENKO comes in.
+
+PAULINA. [Presenting ARKADINA with a little basket] Here are some
+plums for the journey. They are very sweet ones. You may want to
+nibble something good on the way.
+
+ARKADINA. You are very kind, Paulina.
+
+PAULINA. Good-bye, my dearie. If things have not been quite as
+you could have wished, please forgive us. [She weeps.]
+
+ARKADINA. It has been delightful, delightful. You mustn't cry.
+
+SORIN comes in through the door on the left, dressed in a long
+coat with a cape, and carrying his hat and cane. He crosses the
+room.
+
+SORIN. Come, sister, it is time to start, unless you want to miss
+the train. I am going to get into the carriage. [He goes out.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I shall walk quickly to the station and see you off
+there. [He goes out.]
+
+ARKADINA. Good-bye, all! We shall meet again next summer if we
+live. [The maid servant, JACOB, and the cook kiss her hand] Don't
+forget me. [She gives the cook a rouble] There is a rouble for
+all three of you.
+
+THE COOK. Thank you, mistress; a pleasant journey to you.
+
+JACOB. God bless you, mistress.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Send us a line to cheer us up. [TO TRIGORIN] Good-bye,
+sir.
+
+ARKADINA. Where is Constantine? Tell him I am starting. I must
+say good-bye to him. [To JACOB] I gave the cook a rouble for all
+three of you.
+
+All go out through the door on the right. The stage remains
+empty. Sounds of farewell are heard. The maid comes running back
+to fetch the basket of plums which has been forgotten. TRIGORIN
+comes back.
+
+TRIGORIN. I had forgotten my cane. I think I left it on the
+terrace. [He goes toward the door on the right and meets NINA,
+who comes in at that moment] Is that you? We are off.
+
+NINA. I knew we should meet again. [With emotion] I have come to
+an irrevocable decision, the die is cast: I am going on the
+stage. I am deserting my father and abandoning everything. I am
+beginning life anew. I am going, as you are, to Moscow. We shall
+meet there.
+
+TRIGORIN. [Glancing about him] Go to the Hotel Slavianski Bazar.
+Let me know as soon as you get there. I shall be at the
+Grosholski House in Moltchanofka Street. I must go now. [A
+pause.]
+
+NINA. Just one more minute!
+
+TRIGORIN. [In a low voice] You are so beautiful! What bliss to
+think that I shall see you again so soon! [She sinks on his
+breast] I shall see those glorious eyes again, that wonderful,
+ineffably tender smile, those gentle features with their
+expression of angelic purity! My darling! [A prolonged kiss.]
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+Two years elapse between the third and fourth acts.
+
+ACT IV
+
+A sitting-room in SORIN'S house, which has been converted into a
+writing-room for TREPLIEFF. To the right and left are doors
+leading into inner rooms, and in the centre is a glass door
+opening onto a terrace. Besides the usual furniture of a
+sitting-room there is a writing-desk in the right-hand corner of
+the room. There is a Turkish divan near the door on the left, and
+shelves full of books stand against t he walls. Books are lying
+scattered about on the windowsills and chairs. It is evening. The
+room is dimly lighted by a shaded lamp on a table. The wind moans
+in the tree tops and whistles down the chimney. The watchman in
+the garden is heard sounding his rattle. MEDVIEDENKO and MASHA
+come in.
+
+MASHA. [Calling TREPLIEFF] Mr. Constantine, where are you?
+[Looking about her] There is no one here. His old uncle is
+forever asking for Constantine, and can't live without him for an
+instant.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. He dreads being left alone. [Listening to the wind]
+This is a wild night. We have had this storm for two days.
+
+MASHA. [Turning up the lamp] The waves on the lake are enormous.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is very dark in the garden. Do you know, I think
+that old theatre ought to be knocked down. It is still standing
+there, naked and hideous as a skeleton, with the curtain flapping
+in the wind. I thought I heard a voice weeping in it as I passed
+there last night.
+
+MASHA. What an idea! [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Come home with me, Masha.
+
+MASHA. [Shaking her head] I shall spend the night here.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. [Imploringly] Do come, Masha. The baby must be
+hungry.
+
+MASHA. Nonsense, Matriona will feed it. [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is a pity to leave him three nights without his
+mother.
+
+MASHA. You are getting too tiresome. You used sometimes to talk
+of other things besides home and the baby, home and the baby.
+That is all I ever hear from you now.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Come home, Masha.
+
+MASHA. You can go home if you want to.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Your father won't give me a horse.
+
+MASHA. Yes, he will; ask him.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I think I shall. Are you coming home to-morrow?
+
+MASHA. Yes, yes, to-morrow.
+
+She takes snuff. TREPLIEFF and PAULINA come in. TREPLIEFF is
+carrying some pillows and a blanket, and PAULINA is carrying
+sheets and pillow cases. They lay them on the divan, and
+TREPLIEFF goes and sits down at his desk.
+
+MASHA. Who is that for, mother?
+
+PAULINA. Mr. Sorin asked to sleep in Constantine's room to-night.
+
+MASHA. Let me make the bed.
+
+She makes the bed. PAULINA goes up to the desk and looks at the
+manuscripts lying on it. [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Well, I am going. Good-bye, Masha. [He kisses his
+wife's hand] Good-bye, mother. [He tries to kiss his
+mother-in-law's hand.]
+
+PAULINA. [Crossly] Be off, in God's name!
+
+TREPLIEFF shakes hands with him in silence, and MEDVIEDENKO goes
+out.
+
+PAULINA. [Looking at the manuscripts] No one ever dreamed,
+Constantine, that you would one day turn into a real author. The
+magazines pay you well for your stories. [She strokes his hair.]
+You have grown handsome, too. Dear, kind Constantine, be a little
+nicer to my Masha.
+
+MASHA. [Still making the bed] Leave him alone, mother.
+
+PAULINA. She is a sweet child. [A pause] A woman, Constantine,
+asks only for kind looks. I know that from experience.
+
+TREPLIEFF gets up from his desk and goes out without a word.
+
+MASHA. There now! You have vexed him. I told you not to bother
+him.
+
+PAULINA. I am sorry for you, Masha.
+
+MASHA. Much I need your pity!
+
+PAULINA. My heart aches for you. I see how things are, and
+understand.
+
+MASHA. You see what doesn't exist. Hopeless love is only found in
+novels. It is a trifle; all one has to do is to keep a tight rein
+on oneself, and keep one's head clear. Love must be plucked out
+the moment it springs up in the heart. My husband has been
+promised a school in another district, and when we have once left
+this place I shall forget it all. I shall tear my passion out by
+the roots. [The notes of a melancholy waltz are heard in the
+distance.]
+
+PAULINA. Constantine is playing. That means he is sad.
+
+MASHA silently waltzes a few turns to the music.
+
+MASHA. The great thing, mother, is not to have him continually in
+sight. If my Simon could only get his remove I should forget it
+all in a month or two. It is a trifle.
+
+DORN and MEDVIEDENKO come in through the door on the left,
+wheeling SORIN in an arm-chair.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I have six mouths to feed now, and flour is at
+seventy kopecks.
+
+DORN. A hard riddle to solve!
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is easy for you to make light of it. You are rich
+enough to scatter money to your chickens, if you wanted to.
+
+DORN. You think I am rich? My friend, after practising for thirty
+years, during which I could not call my soul my own for one
+minute of the night or day, I succeeded at last in scraping
+together one thousand roubles, all of which went, not long ago,
+in a trip which I took abroad. I haven't a penny.
+
+MASHA. [To her husband] So you didn't go home after all?
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. [Apologetically] How can I go home when they won't
+give me a horse?
+
+MASHA. [Under her breath, with bitter anger] Would I might never
+see your face again!
+
+SORIN in his chair is wheeled to the left-hand side of the room.
+PAULINA, MASHA, and DORN sit down beside him. MEDVIEDENKO stands
+sadly aside.
+
+DORN. What a lot of changes you have made here! You have turned
+this sitting-room into a library.
+
+MASHA. Constantine likes to work in this room, because from it he
+can step out into the garden to meditate whenever he feels like
+it. [The watchman's rattle is heard.]
+
+SORIN. Where is my sister?
+
+DORN. She has gone to the station to meet Trigorin. She will soon
+be back.
+
+SORIN. I must be dangerously ill if you had to send for my
+sister. [He falls silent for a moment] A nice business this is!
+Here I am dangerously ill, and you won't even give me any
+medicine.
+
+DORN. What shall I prescribe for you? Camomile tea? Soda?
+Quinine?
+
+SORIN. Don't inflict any of your discussions on me again. [He
+nods toward the sofa] Is that bed for me?
+
+PAULINA. Yes, for you, sir.
+
+SORIN. Thank you.
+
+DORN. [Sings] "The moon swims in the sky to-night."
+
+SORIN. I am going to give Constantine an idea for a story. It
+shall be called "The Man Who Wished--L'Homme qui a voulu." When I
+was young, I wished to become an author; I failed. I wished to be
+an orator; I speak abominably, [Exciting himself] with my eternal
+"and all, and all," dragging each sentence on and on until I
+sometimes break out into a sweat all over. I wished to marry, and
+I didn't; I wished to live in the city, and here I am ending my
+days in the country, and all.
+
+DORN. You wished to become State Councillor, and--you are one!
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] I didn't try for that, it came of its own
+accord.
+
+DORN. Come, you must admit that it is petty to cavil at life at
+sixty-two years of age.
+
+SORIN. You are pig-headed! Can't you see I want to live?
+
+DORN. That is futile. Nature has commanded that every life shall
+come to an end.
+
+SORIN. You speak like a man who is satiated with life. Your
+thirst for it is quenched, and so you are calm and indifferent,
+but even you dread death.
+
+DORN. The fear of death is an animal passion which must be
+overcome. Only those who believe in a future life and tremble for
+sins committed, can logically fear death; but you, for one thing,
+don't believe in a future life, and for another, you haven't
+committed any sins. You have served as a Councillor for
+twenty-five years, that is all.
+
+SORIN. [Laughing] Twenty-eight years!
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in and sits down on a stool at SORIN'S feet.
+MASHA fixes her eyes on his face and never once tears them away.
+
+DORN. We are keeping Constantine from his work.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No matter. [A pause.]
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Of all the cities you visited when you were abroad,
+Doctor, which one did you like the best?
+
+DORN. Genoa.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Why Genoa?
+
+DORN. Because there is such a splendid crowd in its streets. When
+you leave the hotel in the evening, and throw yourself into the
+heart of that throng, and move with it without aim or object,
+swept along, hither and thither, their life seems to be yours,
+their soul flows into you, and you begin to believe at last in a
+great world spirit, like the one in your play that Nina
+Zarietchnaya acted. By the way, where is Nina now? Is she well?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I believe so.
+
+DORN. I hear she has led rather a strange life; what happened?
+
+TREPLIEFF. It is a long story, Doctor.
+
+DORN. Tell it shortly. [A pause.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. She ran away from home and joined Trigorin; you know
+that?
+
+DORN. Yes.
+
+TREPLIEFF. She had a child that died. Trigorin soon tired of her
+and returned to his former ties, as might have been expected. He
+had never broken them, indeed, but out of weakness of character
+had always vacillated between the two. As far as I can make out
+from what I have heard, Nina's domestic life has not been
+altogether a success.
+
+DORN. What about her acting?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I believe she made an even worse failure of that. She
+made her debut on the stage of the Summer Theatre in Moscow, and
+afterward made a tour of the country towns. At that time I never
+let her out of my sight, and wherever she went I followed. She
+always attempted great and difficult parts, but her delivery was
+harsh and monotonous, and her gestures heavy and crude. She
+shrieked and died well at times, but those were but moments.
+
+DORN. Then she really has a talent for acting?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I never could make out. I believe she has. I saw her,
+but she refused to see me, and her servant would never admit me
+to her rooms. I appreciated her feelings, and did not insist upon
+a meeting. [A pause] What more can I tell you? She sometimes
+writes to me now that I have come home, such clever, sympathetic
+letters, full of warm feeling. She never complains, but I can
+tell that she is profoundly unhappy; not a line but speaks to me
+of an aching, breaking nerve. She has one strange fancy; she
+always signs herself "The Sea-gull." The miller in "Rusalka"
+called himself "The Crow," and so she repeats in all her letters
+that she is a sea-gull. She is here now.
+
+DORN. What do you mean by "here?"
+
+TREPLIEFF. In the village, at the inn. She has been there for
+five days. I should have gone to see her, but Masha here went,
+and she refuses to see any one. Some one told me she had been
+seen wandering in the fields a mile from here yesterday evening.
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, I saw her. She was walking away from here in
+the direction of the village. I asked her why she had not been to
+see us. She said she would come.
+
+TREPLIEFF. But she won't. [A pause] Her father and stepmother
+have disowned her. They have even put watchmen all around their
+estate to keep her away. [He goes with the doctor toward the
+desk] How easy it is, Doctor, to be a philosopher on paper, and
+how difficult in real life!
+
+SORIN. She was a beautiful girl. Even the State Councillor
+himself was in love with her for a time.
+
+DORN. You old Lovelace, you!
+
+SHAMRAEFF'S laugh is heard.
+
+PAULINA. They are coming back from the station.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, I hear my mother's voice.
+
+ARKADINA and TRIGORIN come in, followed by SHAMRAEFF.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. We all grow old and wither, my lady, while you alone,
+with your light dress, your gay spirits, and your grace, keep the
+secret of eternal youth.
+
+ARKADINA. You are still trying to turn my head, you tiresome old
+man.
+
+TRIGORIN. [To SORIN] How do you do, Peter? What, still ill? How
+silly of you! [With evident pleasure, as he catches sight of
+MASHA] How are you, Miss Masha?
+
+MASHA. So you recognised me? [She shakes hands with him.]
+
+TRIGORIN. Did you marry him?
+
+MASHA. Long ago.
+
+TRIGORIN. You are happy now? [He bows to DORN and MEDVIEDENKO,
+and then goes hesitatingly toward TREPLIEFF] Your mother says you
+have forgotten the past and are no longer angry with me.
+
+TREPLIEFF gives him his hand.
+
+ARKADINA. [To her son] Here is a magazine that Boris has brought
+you with your latest story in it.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [To TRIGORIN, as he takes the magazine] Many thanks;
+you are very kind.
+
+TRIGORIN. Your admirers all send you their regards. Every one in
+Moscow and St. Petersburg is interested in you, and all ply me
+with questions about you. They ask me what you look like, how old
+you are, whether you are fair or dark. For some reason they all
+think that you are no longer young, and no one knows who you are,
+as you always write under an assumed name. You are as great a
+mystery as the Man in the Iron Mask.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Do you expect to be here long?
+
+TRIGORIN. No, I must go back to Moscow to-morrow. I am finishing
+another novel, and have promised something to a magazine besides.
+In fact, it is the same old business.
+
+During their conversation ARKADINA and PAULINA have put up a
+card-table in the centre of the room; SHAMRAEFF lights the
+candles and arranges the chairs, then fetches a box of lotto from
+the cupboard.
+
+TRIGORIN. The weather has given me a rough welcome. The wind is
+frightful. If it goes down by morning I shall go fishing in the
+lake, and shall have a look at the garden and the spot--do you
+remember?--where your play was given. I remember the piece very
+well, but should like to see again where the scene was laid.
+
+MASHA. [To her father] Father, do please let my husband have a
+horse. He ought to go home.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [Angrily] A horse to go home with! [Sternly] You know
+the horses have just been to the station. I can't send them out
+again.
+
+MASHA. But there are other horses. [Seeing that her father
+remains silent] You are impossible!
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. I shall go on foot, Masha.
+
+PAULINA. [With a sigh] On foot in this weather? [She takes a seat
+at the card-table] Shall we begin?
+
+MEDVIEDENKO. It is only six miles. Good-bye. [He kisses his
+wife's hand;] Good-bye, mother. [His mother-in-law gives him her
+hand unwillingly] I should not have troubled you all, but the
+baby-- [He bows to every one] Good-bye. [He goes out with an
+apologetic air.]
+
+SHAMRAEFF. He will get there all right, he is not a
+major-general.
+
+PAULINA. Come, let us begin. Don't let us waste time, we shall
+soon be called to supper.
+
+SHAMRAEFF, MASHA, and DORN sit down at the card-table.
+
+ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] When the long autumn evenings descend on
+us we while away the time here by playing lotto. Look at this old
+set; we used it when our mother played with us as children. Don't
+you want to take a hand in the game with us until supper time?
+[She and TRIGORIN sit down at the table] It is a monotonous game,
+but it is all right when one gets used to it. [She deals three
+cards to each of the players.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Looking through the pages of the magazine] He has
+read his own story, and hasn't even cut the pages of mine.
+
+He lays the magazine on his desk and goes toward the door on the
+right, stopping as he passes his mother to give her a kiss.
+
+ARKADINA. Won't you play, Constantine?
+
+TREPLIEFF. No, excuse me please, I don't feel like it. I am going
+to take a turn through the rooms. [He goes out.]
+
+MASHA. Are you all ready? I shall begin: twenty-two.
+
+ARKADINA. Here it is.
+
+MASHA. Three.
+
+DORN. Right.
+
+MASHA. Have you put down three? Eight. Eighty-one. Ten.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Don't go so fast.
+
+ARKADINA. Could you believe it? I am still dazed by the reception
+they gave me in Kharkoff.
+
+MASHA. Thirty-four. [The notes of a melancholy waltz are heard.]
+
+ARKADINA. The students gave me an ovation; they sent me three
+baskets of flowers, a wreath, and this thing here.
+
+She unclasps a brooch from her breast and lays it on the table.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. There is something worth while!
+
+MASHA. Fifty.
+
+DORN. Fifty, did you say?
+
+ARKADINA. I wore a perfectly magnificent dress; I am no fool when
+it comes to clothes.
+
+PAULINA. Constantine is playing again; the poor boy is sad.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. He has been severely criticised in the papers.
+
+MASHA. Seventy-seven.
+
+ARKADINA. They want to attract attention to him.
+
+TRIGORIN. He doesn't seem able to make a success, he can't
+somehow strike the right note. There is an odd vagueness about
+his writings that sometimes verges on delirium. He has never
+created a single living character.
+
+MASHA. Eleven.
+
+ARKADINA. Are you bored, Peter? [A pause] He is asleep.
+
+DORN. The Councillor is taking a nap.
+
+MASHA. Seven. Ninety.
+
+TRIGORIN. Do you think I should write if I lived in such a place
+as this, on the shore of this lake? Never! I should overcome my
+passion, and give my life up to the catching of fish.
+
+MASHA. Twenty-eight.
+
+TRIGORIN. And if I caught a perch or a bass, what bliss it would
+be!
+
+DORN. I have great faith in Constantine. I know there is
+something in him. He thinks in images; his stories are vivid and
+full of colour, and always affect me deeply. It is only a pity
+that he has no definite object in view. He creates impressions,
+and nothing more, and one cannot go far on impressions alone. Are
+you glad, madam, that you have an author for a son?
+
+ARKADINA. Just think, I have never read anything of his; I never
+have time.
+
+MASHA. Twenty-six.
+
+TREPLIEFF comes in quietly and sits down at his table.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. [To TRIGORIN] We have something here that belongs to
+you, sir.
+
+TRIGORIN. What is it?
+
+SHAMRAEFF. You told me to have the sea-gull stuffed that Mr.
+Constantine killed some time ago.
+
+TRIGORIN. Did I? [Thoughtfully] I don't remember.
+
+MASHA. Sixty-one. One.
+
+TREPLIEFF throws open the window and stands listening.
+
+TREPLIEFF. How dark the night is! I wonder what makes me so
+restless.
+
+ARKADINA. Shut the window, Constantine, there is a draught here.
+
+TREPLIEFF shuts the window.
+
+MASHA. Ninety-eight.
+
+TRIGORIN. See, my card is full.
+
+ARKADINA. [Gaily] Bravo! Bravo!
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Bravo!
+
+ARKADINA. Wherever he goes and whatever he does, that man always
+has good luck. [She gets up] And now, come to supper. Our
+renowned guest did not have any dinner to-day. We can continue
+our game later. [To her son] Come, Constantine, leave your
+writing and come to supper.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I don't want anything to eat, mother; I am not hungry.
+
+ARKADINA. As you please. [She wakes SORIN] Come to supper, Peter.
+[She takes SHAMRAEFF'S arm] Let me tell you about my reception in
+Kharkoff.
+
+PAULINA blows out the candles on the table, then she and DORN
+roll SORIN'S chair out of the room, and all go out through the
+door on the left, except TREPLIEFF, who is left alone. TREPLIEFF
+prepares to write. He runs his eye over what he has already
+written.
+
+TREPLIEFF. I have talked a great deal about new forms of art, but
+I feel myself gradually slipping into the beaten track. [He
+reads] "The placard cried it from the wall--a pale face in a
+frame of dusky hair"--cried--frame--that is stupid. [He scratches
+out what he has written] I shall begin again from the place where
+my hero is wakened by the noise of the rain, but what follows
+must go. This description of a moonlight night is long and
+stilted. Trigorin has worked out a process of his own, and
+descriptions are easy for him. He writes that the neck of a
+broken bottle lying on the bank glittered in the moonlight, and
+that the shadows lay black under the mill-wheel. There you have a
+moonlight night before your eyes, but I speak of the shimmering
+light, the twinkling stars, the distant sounds of a piano melting
+into the still and scented air, and the result is abominable. [A
+pause] The conviction is gradually forcing itself upon me that
+good literature is not a question of forms new or old, but of
+ideas that must pour freely from the author's heart, without his
+bothering his head about any forms whatsoever. [A knock is heard
+at the window nearest the table] What was that? [He looks out of
+the window] I can't see anything. [He opens the glass door and
+looks out into the garden] I heard some one run down the steps.
+[He calls] Who is there? [He goes out, and is heard walking
+quickly along the terrace. In a few minutes he comes back with
+NINA ZARIETCHNAYA] Oh, Nina, Nina!
+
+NINA lays her head on TREPLIEFF'S breast and stifles her sobs.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Deeply moved] Nina, Nina! It is you--you! I felt you
+would come; all day my heart has been aching for you. [He takes
+off her hat and cloak] My darling, my beloved has come back to
+me! We mustn't cry, we mustn't cry.
+
+NINA. There is some one here.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No one is here.
+
+NINA. Lock the door, some one might come.
+
+TREPLIEFF. No one will come in.
+
+NINA. I know your mother is here. Lock the door.
+
+TREPLIEFF locks the door on the right and comes back to NINA.
+
+TREPLIEFF. There is no lock on that one. I shall put a chair
+against it. [He puts an arm-chair against the door] Don't be
+frightened, no one shall come in.
+
+NINA. [Gazing intently into his face] Let me look at you. [She
+looks about her] It is warm and comfortable in here. This used to
+be a sitting-room. Have I changed much?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, you have grown thinner, and your eyes are larger
+than they were. Nina, it seems so strange to see you! Why didn't
+you let me go to you? Why didn't you come sooner to me? You have
+been here nearly a week, I know. I have been several times each
+day to where you live, and have stood like a beggar beneath your
+window.
+
+NINA. I was afraid you might hate me. I dream every night that
+you look at me without recognising me. I have been wandering
+about on the shores of the lake ever since I came back. I have
+often been near your house, but I have never had the courage to
+come in. Let us sit down. [They sit down] Let us sit down and
+talk our hearts out. It is so quiet and warm in here. Do you hear
+the wind whistling outside? As Turgenieff says, "Happy is he who
+can sit at night under the roof of his home, who has a warm
+corner in which to take refuge." I am a sea-gull--and yet--no.
+[She passes her hand across her forehead] What was I saying? Oh,
+yes, Turgenieff. He says, "and God help all houseless wanderers."
+[She sobs.]
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nina! You are crying again, Nina!
+
+NINA. It is all right. I shall feel better after this. I have not
+cried for two years. I went into the garden last night to see if
+our old theatre were still standing. I see it is. I wept there
+for the first time in two years, and my heart grew lighter, and
+my soul saw more clearly again. See, I am not crying now. [She
+takes his hand in hers] So you are an author now, and I am an
+actress. We have both been sucked into the whirlpool. My life
+used to be as happy as a child's; I used to wake singing in the
+morning; I loved you and dreamt of fame, and what is the reality?
+To-morrow morning early I must start for Eltz by train in a
+third-class carriage, with a lot of peasants, and at Eltz the
+educated trades-people will pursue me with compliments. It is a
+rough life.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Why are you going to Eltz?
+
+NINA. I have accepted an engagement there for the winter. It is
+time for me to go.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nina, I have cursed you, and hated you, and torn up
+your photograph, and yet I have known every minute of my life
+that my heart and soul were yours for ever. To cease from loving
+you is beyond my power. I have suffered continually from the time
+I lost you and began to write, and my life has been almost
+unendurable. My youth was suddenly plucked from me then, and I
+seem now to have lived in this world for ninety years. I have
+called out to you, I have kissed the ground you walked on,
+wherever I looked I have seen your face before my eyes, and the
+smile that had illumined for me the best years of my life.
+
+NINA. [Despairingly] Why, why does he talk to me like this?
+
+TREPLIEFF. I am quite alone, unwarmed by any attachment. I am as
+cold as if I were living in a cave. Whatever I write is dry and
+gloomy and harsh. Stay here, Nina, I beseech you, or else let me
+go away with you.
+
+NINA quickly puts on her coat and hat.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Nina, why do you do that? For God's sake, Nina! [He
+watches her as she dresses. A pause.]
+
+NINA. My carriage is at the gate. Do not come out to see me off.
+I shall find the way alone. [Weeping] Let me have some water.
+
+TREPLIEFF hands her a glass of water.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Where are you going?
+
+NINA. Back to the village. Is your mother here?
+
+TREPLIEFF. Yes, my uncle fell ill on Thursday, and we telegraphed
+for her to come.
+
+NINA. Why do you say that you have kissed the ground I walked on?
+You should kill me rather. [She bends over the table] I am so
+tired. If I could only rest--rest. [She raises her head] I am a
+sea-gull--no--no, I am an actress. [She hears ARKADINA and
+TRIGORIN laughing in the distance, runs to the door on the left
+and looks through the keyhole] He is there too. [She goes back to
+TREPLIEFF] Ah, well--no matter. He does not believe in the
+theatre; he used to laugh at my dreams, so that little by little
+I became down-hearted and ceased to believe in it too. Then came
+all the cares of love, the continual anxiety about my little one,
+so that I soon grew trivial and spiritless, and played my parts
+without meaning. I never knew what to do with my hands, and I
+could not walk properly or control my voice. You cannot imagine
+the state of mind of one who knows as he goes through a play how
+terribly badly he is acting. I am a sea-gull--no--no, that is not
+what I meant to say. Do you remember how you shot a seagull
+once? A man chanced to pass that way and destroyed it out of
+idleness. That is an idea for a short story, but it is not what I
+meant to say. [She passes her hand across her forehead] What was
+I saying? Oh, yes, the stage. I have changed now. Now I am a real
+actress. I act with joy, with exaltation, I am intoxicated by it,
+and feel that I am superb. I have been walking and walking, and
+thinking and thinking, ever since I have been here, and I feel
+the strength of my spirit growing in me every day. I know now, I
+understand at last, Constantine, that for us, whether we write or
+act, it is not the honour and glory of which I have dreamt that
+is important, it is the strength to endure. One must know how to
+bear one's cross, and one must have faith. I believe, and so do
+not suffer so much, and when I think of my calling I do not fear
+life.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [Sadly] You have found your way, you know where you
+are going, but I am still groping in a chaos of phantoms and
+dreams, not knowing whom and what end I am serving by it all. I
+do not believe in anything, and I do not know what my calling is.
+
+NINA. [Listening] Hush! I must go. Good-bye. When I have become a
+famous actress you must come and see me. Will you promise to
+come? But now-- [She takes his hand] it is late. I can hardly
+stand. I am fainting. I am hungry.
+
+TREPLIEFF. Stay, and let me bring you some supper.
+
+NINA. No, no--and don't come out, I can find the way alone. My
+carriage is not far away. So she brought him back with her?
+However, what difference can that make to me? Don't tell Trigorin
+anything when you see him. I love him--I love him even more than
+I used to. It is an idea for a short story. I love him--I love
+him passionately--I love him to despair. Have you forgotten,
+Constantine, how pleasant the old times were? What a gay, bright,
+gentle, pure life we led? How a feeling as sweet and tender as a
+flower blossomed in our hearts? Do you remember, [She recites]
+"All men and beasts, lions, eagles, and quails, horned stags,
+geese, spiders, silent fish that inhabit the waves, starfish from
+the sea, and creatures invisible to the eye--in one word,
+life--all, all life, completing the dreary round set before it,
+has died out at last. A thousand years have passed since the
+earth last bore a living creature on its breast, and the unhappy
+moon now lights her lamp in vain. No longer are the cries of
+storks heard in the meadows, or the drone of beetles in the
+groves of limes----"
+
+She embraces TREPLIEFF impetuously and runs out onto the terrace.
+
+TREPLIEFF. [After a pause] It would be a pity if she were seen in
+the garden. My mother would be distressed.
+
+He stands for several minutes tearing up his manuscripts and
+throwing them under the table, then unlocks the door on the right
+and goes out.
+
+DORN. [Trying to force open the door on the left] Odd! This door
+seems to be locked. [He comes in and puts the chair back in its
+former place] This is like a hurdle race.
+
+ARKADINA and PAULINA come in, followed by JACOB carrying some
+bottles; then come MASHA, SHAMRAEFF, and TRIGORIN.
+
+ARKADINA. Put the claret and the beer here, on the table, so that
+we can drink while we are playing. Sit down, friends.
+
+PAULINA. And bring the tea at once.
+
+She lights the candles and takes her seat at the card-table.
+SHAMRAEFF leads TRIGORIN to the cupboard.
+
+SHAMRAEFF. Here is the stuffed sea-gull I was telling you about.
+[He takes the sea-gull out of the cupboard] You told me to have
+it done.
+
+TRIGORIN. [looking at the bird] I don't remember a thing about
+it, not a thing. [A shot is heard. Every one jumps.]
+
+ARKADINA. [Frightened] What was that?
+
+DORN. Nothing at all; probably one of my medicine bottles has
+blown up. Don't worry. [He goes out through the door on the
+right, and comes back in a few moments] It is as I thought, a
+flask of ether has exploded. [He sings]
+
+   "Spellbound once more I stand before thee."
+
+ARKADINA. [Sitting down at the table] Heavens! I was really
+frightened. That noise reminded me of-- [She covers her face with
+her hands] Everything is black before my eyes.
+
+DORN. [Looking through the pages of a magazine, to TRIGORIN]
+There was an article from America in this magazine about two
+months ago that I wanted to ask you about, among other things.
+[He leads TRIGORIN to the front of the stage] I am very much
+interested in this question. [He lowers his voice and whispers]
+You must take Madame Arkadina away from here; what I wanted to
+say was, that Constantine has shot himself.
+
+The curtain falls.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Sea-Gull, by Anton Checkov
+
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