[D-IV-3]

[Deemer]

(Dorn wheels in Sorin.)

SORIN: We're out of herring again.

IRINA: We could have smoked trout if you'd ever catch any.

SORIN: I don't have the patience to fish.

TRIGORIN: I'd fish every day if I lived here.

SORIN: You're a writer, you think up stories when you're alone. I get bored.

DORN: To each his own.

IRINA: I get bored easily, too. That's why I could never live here.

TRIGORIN: I'd move out here in a minute.

IRINA: You can say that now. In a week you'd miss your literary teas and all your fawning fans who stop you in the street.

TRIGORIN: The fact is, I get tired of them.

ILYA: How can you say that? Without your fans, you'd be nowhere.

TRIGORIN: I respect them, I'm always kind to them -- but I'd be happy never signing another autograph. It's exciting when you're young. Then it just gets tedious and pointless.

IRINA: Hardly pointless to them, Boris. My fans live to catch a moment with me, and so do yours.

SORIN: I had a fan once. She tried to marry me for my money. You ever have a fan, Dorn?

DORN: In medicine, we call them patients.

IRINA: They amount to the same thing.

TRIGORIN: I hate thinking of my readers as patients. It sounds like my books contain advice and prescriptions.

IRINA: They contain advice about how to live, about life!

TRIGORIN: Not intentionally.

ILYA: Why do you write if not to give advice about living?

TRIGORIN: I write to keep myself from getting bored.

(Masha and Polina enter with supper.)

[continue]