[Chekhov]
NINA: Not entirely.
TREPLEV: Enough. (He kisses her.)
NINA: (breaking away) Konsty, what kind of tree is that?
TREPLEV: An elm. Kiss me.
NINA: Why's it so dark?
TREPLEV: Because it's evening. You don't really have to run off after the
play, do you?
NINA: I must.
TREPLEV: Then I'll follow you. I'll spend all night gazing up at your window.
NINA: You mustn't. The watchman would find you. My dog would start barking at you.
TREPLEV: I love you so much.
NINA: Sshh. Look, the moon's rising.
TREPLEV: Right on schedule. Places everyone! We're about to begin. Are you nervous?
NINA: Very. I don't mind your mother but Trigorin is here. He's such a famous writer, I'll be nervous performing in front of him. Is he young?
TREPLEV: Yes.
NINA: He writes such wonderful stories.
TREPLEV: I wouldn't know.
NINA: I have to say this - your play is very difficult to act in. There are no living people in it.
TREPLEV: Well, why should there be? I'm not trying to follow the same old formula. I have a new vision of what theater should be.
NINA: But nothing happens, it's all talk. And there's no love story . . .
(They disappear behind the curtain.)
(Polina and Dorn enter.)