[II-2]

[Chekhov]

(Sorin enters on the arm of Nina, followed by Medvedenko pushing a

wheelchair.)

SORIN: (to Nina) So we're finally happy today, yes? Happy at last!

Your papa and stepmother are out of town, and you're free for three whole days!

NINA: (sitting down beside Irina) Yes, I am happy. Now I belong to you.

SORIN: (sitting in a wheelchair) She's looking so pretty today.

IRINA: Such a pretty dress. But we mustn't praise you too much, it's bad luck. Where's Trigorin?

NINA: Fishing at the lake.

IRINA: I don't see how he can fish all day.

NINA: What are you reading?

IRINA: Maupassant. But it's getting dull. And something's bothering me.

What's wrong with Kostya? Why's he so moody all the time? He spends the entire day on the lake and I never see him.

MASHA: He's very troubled. (To Nina, timidly) Would you recite something from his play?

NINA: Should I? It's so boring.

MASHA: When he reads aloud, his eyes glow and his face turns pale. He has such a sad voice. He looks like a poet.

(Sorin starts snoring.)

DORN: Sweet dreams.

IRINA: Petroosha!

SORIN: Hmm?

IRINA: You were snoring.

SORIN: I'm wide awake.

IRINA: It's so foolish, the way you never take your medicine.

SORIN: The doctors never give me any.

DORN: Taking medicine at sixty . . .

SORIN: Even at sixty, one wants to live.

DORN: Then take your medicine.

IRINA: I think he should go to a health spa.

DORN: Might do him good, might not.

IRINA: What's that supposed to mean?

DORN: Just what it says.

MED.: I think you should quit smoking.

SORIN: Rubbish.

DORN: It's not rubbish. Liquor and tobacco rob us of our true selves. When

you drink or smoke, you become someone else, some third person "him" instead

of "me."

SORIN: That's easy for you to say, with the life you've led. I spent twenty-eight years in court and only now am finally beginning to live a little. Now I can enjoy my sherry and my cigars and all the rest.

DORN: But when you depend on medicine at sixty and complain that you never

lived when you were young - it's just silly.

MASHA: (rising) It must be lunch time. (She walks toward the house, limping.) My foot's asleep.

[follow her]

[continue]