[I-7]

[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.)

[follow Treplev and Nina]

[continue]