ACT THREE

[III-1]

[Chekhov]

(A week later. In the dining room at Sorin's house: Trigorin is eating lunch. Masha stands at the table. Each has a drink. A few pieces of luggage are in the room, preparations for departure.)

MASHA: I'm telling you this because you're a writer - maybe you can use the material. It's the truth. If he'd died when he shot himself, I couldn't have gone on living. But I'm braver today. I'm determined to tear out my love for him by the roots.

TRIGORIN: How will you manage that?

MASHA: By marrying Medvedenko.

TRIGORIN: The schoolmaster?

MASHA: Yes.

TRIGORIN: I don't see the point.

MASHA: Loving Konstantin year after year for nothing - what's the point of that? When I'm married, I won't have time for love. I'll have new things to worry about. At least it'll be a change. Shall we have another?

TRIGORIN: Haven't we had enough?

MASHA: So? And don't look at me like that. (She fills their glasses.) Women drink more than you think they do - just few do it openly like I do. It's always vodka or cognac. (They clink glasses.) Cheers. I like you. You're easy to talk to. I'm sorry you're going.

TRIGORIN: I don't want to.

MASHA: Then ask her to stay.

TRIGORIN: She won't. Konstantin is acting too strangely. First he tries to shoot himself, and now I hear he wants to challenge me to a duel. And for what? He sulks and grumbles and rambles on about new art forms. Well, there's room enough in the world for old and new alike. Why so much grumbling?

MASHA: He's jealous of you. I guess it's none of my business.

(Nina enters.)

[continue]