[Chekhov]
ILYA: (as they enter) All of us get older except you, madam - you're as young and lively as ever!
IRINA: Are you trying to bring me bad luck?
TRIGORIN: (to Sorin) How are you? Still sick? That won't do. And Masha!
MASHA: I'm surprised you recognize me.
(They shake hands.)
TRIGORIN: Are you married?
MASHA: For a long time now.
TRIGORIN: And happy?
(Not waiting for an answer, he bows to Dorn and Medvedenko, who bow in return. Then he approaches Treplev.)
TRIGORIN: Your mother tells me you've forgotten the past and aren't angry at me anymore.
IRINA: (to Treplev) He brought you the magazine with your new story in it.
TREPLEV: (taking the magazine from Trigorin) Thank you. That was very kind.
TRIGORIN: Your fans in St. Petersburg and Moscow send their greetings. They're always asking me about you: what are you like?, how old are you?, is he dark or fair? For some reason, everyone thinks you're an old man, and since you write under a pseudonym, no one knows your real name. You're as mysterious as the Man in the Iron Mask.
TREPLEV: Will you be staying long?
TRIGORIN: No, I must go to Moscow tomorrow. I have a novel deadline to meet and I promised to contribute something to an anthology. Busy as ever.
(As he continues, Irina and Polina set up a card table. Ilya brings out chairs and puts out candles. He brings out a lotto game.)
TRIGORIN: The weather certainly hasn't welcomed me. If the wind dies down tomorrow, I'm going to fish at the lake. I also want to look at the garden, where your play was done - remember? Been brooding about a story and need to refresh my memory.
MASHA: Papa, can my husband have a horse? He wants to go home.
ILYA: (mimicking her) "He wants to go home." The horses have just come from the station. They can't go out again in this weather.
MASHA: There are other horses. (She's being ignored.) You're impossible.
MED.: I can walk, Masha. Please.
POLINA: Walk in this weather! (She sits down at the card table.) Come on, everyone, let's play cards.
MED.: It's only six miles. (He kisses his wife's hand.) Goodbye, mother. (He kisses Polina's hand, which she offers reluctantly.) I wouldn't be making a fuss except for the baby. Goodbye.
(He leaves.)