[Chekhov]
(Trigorin enters with the book.)
TRIGORIN: (still looking for the passage) Page 121, lines 11 and 12. Here it is . . . "If ever you should need my life, come and take it."
IRINA: The horses will be ready soon.
TRIGORIN: "If ever you should need my life . . ."
IRINA: Are you packed?
TRIGORIN: Yes, I'm packed. Why does that make me sad? "If ever you should need my life, come and take it." (A pause.) I want to stay another day.
IRINA: I know why you want to stay, but you must try and control yourself. You're just a little drunk. Try to act sober.
TRIGORIN: You act sober as well - and try to understand, please. You can make a sacrifice now: be a true friend - and set me free.
IRINA: (upset) Are you that infatuated with her?
TRIGORIN: I'm drawn toward her. Maybe she's just what I need.
IRINA: In love with a young country girl! You don't even know what's best for you.
TRIGORIN: I'm talking to you - but I'm thinking about her. Such lovely dreams are possessing me right now. Please turn me loose . . .
IRINA: I'm a woman, Boris - don't talk to me like that, it's torture. You frighten me.
TRIGORIN: Do the extraordinary thing. Young love is so different, so full of poetry and enchantment, it sweeps you off into a world of make-believe. It's the only thing that brings true happiness. But I've never experienced love like that. I was too busy in my own youth, trying to get published and make a living. Now young love has dropped into my lap. How can I run away from it?
IRINA: That's drunken crazy talk.
TRIGORIN: So what?
IRINA: Why is everyone set on torturing me today?
TRIGORIN: You don't even try to understand!
IRINA: Have I become so old and ugly that you must talk to me about other women? (She embraces and kisses him.) You're mad - my wonderful madman, the last page of my life! (She falls on her knees, embracing his legs.) My joy and bliss! If you leave me for even an hour, I'll die.
TRIGORIN: Please, someone might come in.
(He helps her to her feet.)
IRINA: Let them. I'm not ashamed of loving you. (She kisses his hands.) My precious, reckless love, you want to do this mad thing - but I won't let you. Because you're mine! (She laughs.) Your forehead, your eyes, your silky hair - all mine! You're so intelligent and talented, the best living writer in Russia, the hope of the entire country. You write with such simplicity and humor - with a single phrase, you go right to the heart of a character. Your characters spring to life on the page. It's impossible to read you without rapture! Do you think I'm just flattering you? Look into my eyes. Look! Do I look like someone who is lying? You see? I'm the only one who truly appreciates you. I'm the only one who tells you the truth. My darling, you'll come with me now, won't you? You won't leave me?
TRIGORIN: I have no will power of my own. I never have. I'm weak and spineless - what woman could want me? Yes, take me away with you - but don't let me out of your sight for an instant.
IRINA: (casually, as if nothing had happened) Of course, you can stay if you want to - and join me in a week. There's no need for you to be in such a hurry.
TRIGORIN: No, we'll leave together.
IRINA: Whatever you say. We'll leave together then. (Trigorin writes something in his notebook.) What are you writing?
TRIGORIN: A phrase I heard this morning. "The virgin forest." It may prove useful some day. (He yawns and stretches.) So we're actually leaving. Carriages and railway stations, railroad food and casual conversations . . .
(Ilya enters.)