LITMIR.BIZ

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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, goodnatured 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. Goodbye.

      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] Goodbye, 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

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