READ STUDY GUIDE: First half of Act One | Second half of Act One |
|
Act I
| The scene is laid in the park on SORIN'S estate. A broad avenue |
| of trees leads away from the audience toward a lake which lies |
| lost in the depths of the park. The avenue is obstructed by a |
| rough stage, temporarily erected for the performance of amateur |
| theatricals, and which screens the lake from view. There is a |
| dense growth of bushes to the left and right of the stage. A few |
| chairs and a little table are placed in front of the stage. The |
| sun has just set. JACOB and some other workmen are heard |
| hammering and coughing on the stage behind the lowered curtain. |
| MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO come in from the left, returning from a |
| walk. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. Why do you always wear mourning? |
| MASHA. I dress in black to match my life. I am unhappy. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. Why should you be unhappy? [Thinking it over] I |
| don't understand it. You are healthy, and though your father is |
| not rich, he has a good competency. My life is far harder than |
| yours. I only have twenty-three roubles a month to live on, but I |
| don't wear mourning. [They sit down]. |
| MASHA. Happiness does not depend on riches; poor men are often |
| happy. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. In theory, yes, but not in reality. Take my case, |
| for instance; my mother, my two sisters, my little brother and I |
| must all live somehow on my salary of twenty-three roubles a |
| month. We have to eat and drink, I take it. You wouldn't have us |
| go without tea and sugar, would you? Or tobacco? Answer me that, |
| if you can. |
| MASHA. [Looking in the direction of the stage] The play will soon |
| begin. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, Nina Zarietchnaya is going to act in |
| Treplieff's play. They love one another, and their two souls will |
| unite to-night in the effort to interpret the same idea by |
| different means. There is no ground on which your soul and mine |
| can meet. I love you. Too restless and sad to stay at home, I |
| tramp here every day, six miles and back, to be met only by your |
| indifference. I am poor, my family is large, you can have no |
| inducement to marry a man who cannot even find sufficient food |
| for his own mouth. |
| MASHA. It is not that. [She takes snuff] I am touched by your |
| affection, but I cannot return it, that is all. [She offers him |
| the snuff-box] Will you take some? |
| MEDVIEDENKO. No, thank you. [A pause.] |
| MASHA. The air is sultry; a storm is brewing for to-night. You do |
| nothing but moralise or else talk about money. To you, poverty is |
| the greatest misfortune that can befall a man, but I think it is |
| a thousand times easier to go begging in rags than to—You |
| wouldn't understand that, though. |
| SORIN leaning on a cane, and TREPLIEFF come in. |
| SORIN. For some reason, my boy, country life doesn't suit me, and |
| I am sure I shall never get used to it. Last night I went to bed |
| at ten and woke at nine this morning, feeling as if, from |
| oversleep, my brain had stuck to my skull. [Laughing] And yet I |
| accidentally dropped off to sleep again after dinner, and feel |
| utterly done up at this moment. It is like a nightmare. |
| TREPLIEFF. There is no doubt that you should live in town. [He |
| catches sight of MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO] You shall be called when |
| the play begins, my friends, but you must not stay here now. Go |
| away, please. |
| SORIN. Miss Masha, will you kindly ask your father to leave the |
| dog unchained? It howled so last night that my sister was unable |
| to sleep. |
| MASHA. You must speak to my father yourself. Please excuse me; I |
| can't do so. [To MEDVIEDENKO] Come, let us go. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. You will let us know when the play begins? |
| MASHA and MEDVIEDENKO go out. |
| SORIN. I foresee that that dog is going to howl all night again. |
| It is always this way in the country; I have never been able to |
| live as I like here. I come down for a month's holiday, to rest |
| and all, and am plagued so by their nonsense that I long to |
| escape after the first day. [Laughing] I have always been glad to |
| get away from this place, but I have been retired now, and this |
| was the only place I had to come to. Willy-nilly, one must live |
| somewhere. |
| JACOB. [To TREPLIEFF] We are going to take a swim, Mr. |
| Constantine. |
| TREPLIEFF. Very well, but you must be back in ten minutes. |
| JACOB. We will, sir. |
| TREPLIEFF. [Looking at the stage] Just like a real theatre! See, |
| there we have the curtain, the foreground, the background, and |
| all. No artificial scenery is needed. The eye travels direct to |
| the lake, and rests on the horizon. The curtain will be raised as |
| the moon rises at half-past eight. |
| SORIN. Splendid! |
| TREPLIEFF. Of course the whole effect will be ruined if Nina is |
| late. She should be here by now, but her father and stepmother |
| watch her so closely that it is like stealing her from a prison |
| to get her away from home. [He straightens SORIN'S collar] Your |
| hair and beard are all on end. Oughtn't you to have them trimmed? |
| SORIN. [Smoothing his beard] They are the tragedy of my |
| existence. Even when I was young I always looked as if I were |
| drunk, and all. Women have never liked me. [Sitting down] Why is |
| my sister out of temper? |
| TREPLIEFF. Why? Because she is jealous and bored. [Sitting down |
| beside SORIN] She is not acting this evening, but Nina is, and so |
| she has set herself against me, and against the performance of |
| the play, and against the play itself, which she hates without |
| ever having read it. |
| SORIN. [Laughing] Does she, really? |
| TREPLIEFF. Yes, she is furious because Nina is going to have a |
| success on this little stage. [Looking at his watch] My mother is |
| a psychological curiosity. Without doubt brilliant and talented, |
| capable of sobbing over a novel, of reciting all Nekrasoff's |
| poetry by heart, and of nursing the sick like an angel of heaven, |
| you should see what happens if any one begins praising Duse to |
| her! She alone must be praised and written about, raved over, her |
| marvellous acting in "La Dame aux Camelias" extolled to the |
| skies. As she cannot get all that rubbish in the country, she |
| grows peevish and cross, and thinks we are all against her, and |
| to blame for it all. She is superstitious, too. She dreads |
| burning three candles, and fears the thirteenth day of the month. |
| Then she is stingy. I know for a fact that she has seventy |
| thousand roubles in a bank at Odessa, but she is ready to burst |
| into tears if you ask her to lend you a penny. |
| SORIN. You have taken it into your head that your mother dislikes |
| your play, and the thought of it has excited you, and all. Keep |
| calm; your mother adores you. |
| TREPLIEFF. [Pulling a flower to pieces] She loves me, loves me |
| not; loves—loves me not; loves—loves me not! [Laughing] You |
| see, she doesn't love me, and why should she? She likes life and |
| love and gay clothes, and I am already twenty-five years old; a |
| sufficient reminder to her that she is no longer young. When I am |
| away she is only thirty-two, in my presence she is forty-three, |
| and she hates me for it. She knows, too, that I despise the |
| modern stage. She adores it, and imagines that she is working on |
| it for the benefit of humanity and her sacred art, but to me the |
| theatre is merely the vehicle of convention and prejudice. When |
| the curtain rises on that little three-walled room, when those |
| mighty geniuses, those high-priests of art, show us people in the |
| act of eating, drinking, loving, walking, and wearing their |
| coats, and attempt to extract a moral from their insipid talk; |
| when playwrights give us under a thousand different guises the |
| same, same, same old stuff, then I must needs run from it, as |
| Maupassant ran from the Eiffel Tower that was about to crush him |
| by its vulgarity. |
| SORIN. But we can't do without a theatre. |
| TREPLIEFF. No, but we must have it under a new form. If we can't |
| do that, let us rather not have it at all. [Looking at his watch] |
| I love my mother, I love her devotedly, but I think she leads a |
| stupid life. She always has this man of letters of hers on her |
| mind, and the newspapers are always frightening her to death, and |
| I am tired of it. Plain, human egoism sometimes speaks in my |
| heart, and I regret that my mother is a famous actress. If she |
| were an ordinary woman I think I should be a happier man. What |
| could be more intolerable and foolish than my position, Uncle, |
| when I find myself the only nonentity among a crowd of her |
| guests, all celebrated authors and artists? I feel that they only |
| endure me because I am her son. Personally I am nothing, nobody. |
| I pulled through my third year at college by the skin of my |
| teeth, as they say. I have neither money nor brains, and on my |
| passport you may read that I am simply a citizen of Kiev. So was |
| my father, but he was a well-known actor. When the celebrities |
| that frequent my mother's drawing-room deign to notice me at all, |
| I know they only look at me to measure my insignificance; I read |
| their thoughts, and suffer from humiliation. |
| SORIN. Tell me, by the way, what is Trigorin like? I can't |
| understand him, he is always so silent. |
| TREPLIEFF. Trigorin is clever, simple, well-mannered, and a |
| little, I might say, melancholic in disposition. Though still |
| under forty, he is surfeited with praise. As for his stories, |
| they are—how shall I put it?—pleasing, full of talent, but if |
| you have read Tolstoi or Zola you somehow don't enjoy Trigorin. |
| SORIN. Do you know, my boy, I like literary men. I once |
| passionately desired two things: to marry, and to become an |
| author. I have succeeded in neither. It must be pleasant to be |
| even an insignificant author. |
| TREPLIEFF. [Listening] I hear footsteps! [He embraces his uncle] |
| I cannot live without her; even the sound of her footsteps is |
| music to me. I am madly happy. [He goes quickly to meet NINA, who |
| comes in at that moment] My enchantress! My girl of dreams! |
| NINA. [Excitedly] It can't be that I am late? No, I am not late. |
| TREPLIEFF. [Kissing her hands] No, no, no! |
| NINA. I have been in a fever all day, I was so afraid my father |
| would prevent my coming, but he and my stepmother have just gone |
| driving. The sky is clear, the moon is rising. How I hurried to |
| get here! How I urged my horse to go faster and faster! |
| [Laughing] I am _so_ glad to see you! [She shakes hands with |
| SORIN.] |
| SORIN. Oho! Your eyes look as if you had been crying. You mustn't |
| do that. |
| NINA. It is nothing, nothing. Do let us hurry. I must go in half |
| an hour. No, no, for heaven's sake do not urge me to stay. My |
| father doesn't know I am here. |
| TREPLIEFF. As a matter of fact, it is time to begin now. I must |
| call the audience. |
| SORIN. Let me call them—and all—I am going this minute. [He |
| goes toward the right, begins to sing "The Two Grenadiers," then |
| stops.] I was singing that once when a fellow-lawyer said to me: |
| "You have a powerful voice, sir." Then he thought a moment and |
| added, "But it is a disagreeable one!" [He goes out laughing.] |
| NINA. My father and his wife never will let me come here; they |
| call this place Bohemia and are afraid I shall become an actress. |
| But this lake attracts me as it does the gulls. My heart is full |
| of you. [She glances about her.] |
| TREPLIEFF. We are alone. |
| NINA. Isn't that some one over there? |
| TREPLIEFF. No. [They kiss one another.] |
| NINA. What is that tree? |
| TREPLIEFF. An elm. |
| NINA. Why does it look so dark? |
| TREPLIEFF. It is evening; everything looks dark now. Don't go |
| away early, I implore you. |
| NINA. I must. |
| TREPLIEFF. What if I were to follow you, Nina? I shall stand in |
| your garden all night with my eyes on your window. |
| NINA. That would be impossible; the watchman would see you, and |
| Treasure is not used to you yet, and would bark. |
| TREPLIEFF. I love you. |
| NINA. Hush! |
| TREPLIEFF. [Listening to approaching footsteps] Who is that? Is |
| it you, Jacob? |
| JACOB. [On the stage] Yes, sir. |
| TREPLIEFF. To your places then. The moon is rising; the play must |
| commence. |
| NINA. Yes, sir. |
| TREPLIEFF. Is the alcohol ready? Is the sulphur ready? There must |
| be fumes of sulphur in the air when the red eyes shine out. [To |
| NINA] Go, now, everything is ready. Are you nervous? |
| NINA. Yes, very. I am not so much afraid of your mother as I am |
| of Trigorin. I am terrified and ashamed to act before him; he is |
| so famous. Is he young? |
| TREPLIEFF. Yes. |
| NINA. What beautiful stories he writes! |
| TREPLIEFF. [Coldly] I have never read any of them, so I can't |
| say. |
| NINA. Your play is very hard to act; there are no living |
| characters in it. |
| TREPLIEFF. Living characters! Life must be represented not as it |
| is, but as it ought to be; as it appears in dreams. |
| NINA. There is so little action; it seems more like a recitation. |
| I think love should always come into every play. |
| NINA and TREPLIEFF go up onto the little stage; PAULINA and DORN |
| come in. |
| PAULINA. It is getting damp. Go back and put on your goloshes. |
| DORN. I am quite warm. |
| PAULINA. You never will take care of yourself; you are quite |
| obstinate about it, and yet you are a doctor, and know quite well |
| that damp air is bad for you. You like to see me suffer, that's |
| what it is. You sat out on the terrace all yesterday evening on |
| purpose. |
| DORN. [Sings] |
 "Oh, tell me not that youth is wasted." |
| PAULINA. You were so enchanted by the conversation of Madame |
| Arkadina that you did not even notice the cold. Confess that you |
| admire her. |
| DORN. I am fifty-five years old. |
| PAULINA. A trifle. That is not old for a man. You have kept your |
| looks magnificently, and women still like you. |
| DORN. What are you trying to tell me? |
| PAULINA. You men are all ready to go down on your knees to an |
| actress, all of you. |
| DORN. [Sings] |
| "Once more I stand before thee." |
| It is only right that artists should be made much of by society |
| and treated differently from, let us say, merchants. It is a kind |
| of idealism. |
| PAULINA. When women have loved you and thrown themselves at your |
| head, has that been idealism? |
| DORN. [Shrugging his shoulders] I can't say. There has been a |
| great deal that was admirable in my relations with women. In me |
| they liked, above all, the superior doctor. Ten years ago, you |
| remember, I was the only decent doctor they had in this part of |
| the country—and then, I have always acted like a man of honour. |
| PAULINA. [Seizes his hand] Dearest! |
| DORN. Be quiet! Here they come. |
| ARKADINA comes in on SORIN'S arm; also TRIGORIN, SHAMRAEFF, |
| MEDVIEDENKO, and MASHA. |
| SHAMRAEFF. She acted most beautifully at the Poltava Fair in |
| 1873; she was really magnificent. But tell me, too, where Tchadin |
| the comedian is now? He was inimitable as Rasplueff, better than |
| Sadofski. Where is he now? |
| ARKADINA. Don't ask me where all those antediluvians are! I know |
| nothing about them. [She sits down.] |
| SHAMRAEFF. [Sighing] Pashka Tchadin! There are none left like |
| him. The stage is not what it was in his time. There were sturdy |
| oaks growing on it then, where now but stumps remain. |
| DORN. It is true that we have few dazzling geniuses these days, |
| but, on the other hand, the average of acting is much higher. |
| SHAMRAEFF. I cannot agree with you; however, that is a matter of |
| taste, _de gustibus._ |
| Enter TREPLIEFF from behind the stage. |
| ARKADINA. When will the play begin, my dear boy? |
| TREPLIEFF. In a moment. I must ask you to have patience. |
| ARKADINA. [Quoting from Hamlet] My son, |
| "Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; |
| And there I see such black grained spots |
| As will not leave their tinct." |
| [A horn is blown behind the stage.] |
| TREPLIEFF. Attention, ladies and gentlemen! The play is about to |
| begin. [A pause] I shall commence. [He taps the door with a stick, |
| and speaks in a loud voice] O, ye time-honoured, ancient mists |
| that drive at night across the surface of this lake, blind you |
| our eyes with sleep, and show us in our dreams that which will |
| be in twice ten thousand years! |
| SORIN. There won't be anything in twice ten thousand years. |
| TREPLIEFF. Then let them now show us that nothingness. |
| ARKADINA. Yes, let them—we are asleep. |
| The curtain rises. A vista opens across the lake. The moon hangs |
| low above the horizon and is reflected in the water. NINA, |
| dressed in white, is seen seated on a great rock. |
| NINA. All men and beasts, lions, eagles, and quails, horned |
| stags, geese, spiders, silent fish that inhabit the waves, |
| starfish from the sea, and creatures invisible to the eye—in one |
| word, life—all, all life, completing the dreary round imposed |
| upon it, has died out at last. A thousand years have passed since |
| the earth last bore a living creature on her breast, and the |
| unhappy moon now lights her lamp in vain. No longer are the cries |
| of storks heard in the meadows, or the drone of beetles in the |
| groves of limes. All is cold, cold. All is void, void, void. All |
| is terrible, terrible—[A pause] The bodies of all living |
| creatures have dropped to dust, and eternal matter has |
| transformed them into stones and water and clouds; but their |
| spirits have flowed together into one, and that great world-soul |
| am I! In me is the spirit of the great Alexander, the spirit of |
| Napoleon, of Caesar, of Shakespeare, and of the tiniest leech |
| that swims. In me the consciousness of man has joined hands with |
| the instinct of the animal; I understand all, all, all, and each |
| life lives again in me. |
| [The will-o-the-wisps flicker out along the lake shore.] |
| ARKADINA. [Whispers] What decadent rubbish is this? |
| TREPLIEFF. [Imploringly] Mother! |
| NINA. I am alone. Once in a hundred years my lips are opened, my |
| voice echoes mournfully across the desert earth, and no one |
| hears. And you, poor lights of the marsh, you do not hear me. You |
| are engendered at sunset in the putrid mud, and flit wavering |
| about the lake till dawn, unconscious, unreasoning, unwarmed by |
| the breath of life. Satan, father of eternal matter, trembling |
| lest the spark of life should glow in you, has ordered an |
| unceasing movement of the atoms that compose you, and so you |
| shift and change for ever. I, the spirit of the universe, I alone |
| am immutable and eternal. [A pause] Like a captive in a dungeon |
| deep and void, I know not where I am, nor what awaits me. One |
| thing only is not hidden from me: in my fierce and obstinate |
| battle with Satan, the source of the forces of matter, I am |
| destined to be victorious in the end. Matter and spirit will then |
| be one at last in glorious harmony, and the reign of freedom will |
| begin on earth. But this can only come to pass by slow degrees, |
| when after countless eons the moon and earth and shining Sirius |
| himself shall fall to dust. Until that hour, oh, horror! horror! |
| horror! [A pause. Two glowing red points are seen shining across |
| the lake] Satan, my mighty foe, advances; I see his dread and |
| lurid eyes. |
| ARKADINA. I smell sulphur. Is that done on purpose? |
| TREPLIEFF. Yes. |
| ARKADINA. Oh, I see; that is part of the effect. |
| TREPLIEFF. Mother! |
| NINA. He longs for man— |
| PAULINA. [To DORN] You have taken off your hat again! Put it on, |
| you will catch cold. |
| ARKADINA. The doctor has taken off his hat to Satan father of |
| eternal matter— |
| TREPLIEFF. [Loudly and angrily] Enough of this! There's an end to |
| the performance. Down with the curtain! |
| ARKADINA. Why, what are you so angry about? |
| TREPLIEFF. [Stamping his foot] The curtain; down with it! [The |
| curtain falls] Excuse me, I forgot that only a chosen few might |
| write plays or act them. I have infringed the monopoly. I—I—- |
| He would like to say more, but waves his hand instead, and goes |
| out to the left. |
| ARKADINA. What is the matter with him? |
| SORIN. You should not handle youthful egoism so roughly, sister. |
| ARKADINA. What did I say to him? |
| SORIN. You hurt his feelings. |
| ARKADINA. But he told me himself that this was all in fun, so I |
| treated his play as if it were a comedy. |
| SORIN. Nevertheless—- |
| ARKADINA. Now it appears that he has produced a masterpiece, if |
| you please! I suppose it was not meant to amuse us at all, but |
| that he arranged the performance and fumigated us with sulphur to |
| demonstrate to us how plays should be written, and what is worth |
| acting. I am tired of him. No one could stand his constant |
| thrusts and sallies. He is a wilful, egotistic boy. |
| SORIN. He had hoped to give you pleasure. |
| ARKADINA. Is that so? I notice, though, that he did not choose an |
| ordinary play, but forced his decadent trash on us. I am willing |
| to listen to any raving, so long as it is not meant seriously, |
| but in showing us this, he pretended to be introducing us to a |
| new form of art, and inaugurating a new era. In my opinion, there |
| was nothing new about it, it was simply an exhibition of bad |
| temper. |
| TRIGORIN. Everybody must write as he feels, and as best he may. |
| ARKADINA. Let him write as he feels and can, but let him spare me |
| his nonsense. |
| DORN. Thou art angry, O Jove! |
| ARKADINA. I am a woman, not Jove. [She lights a cigarette] And I |
| am not angry, I am only sorry to see a young man foolishly |
| wasting his time. I did not mean to hurt him. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. No one has any ground for separating life from |
| matter, as the spirit may well consist of the union of material |
| atoms. [Excitedly, to TRIGORIN] Some day you should write a play, |
| and put on the stage the life of a schoolmaster. It is a hard, |
| hard life. |
| ARKADINA. I agree with you, but do not let us talk about plays or |
| atoms now. This is such a lovely evening. Listen to the singing, |
| friends, how sweet it sounds. |
| PAULINA. Yes, they are singing across the water. [A pause.] |
| ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] Sit down beside me here. Ten or fifteen |
| years ago we had music and singing on this lake almost all night. |
| There are six houses on its shores. All was noise and laughter |
| and romance then, such romance! The young star and idol of them |
| all in those days was this man here, [Nods toward DORN] Doctor |
| Eugene Dorn. He is fascinating now, but he was irresistible then. |
| But my conscience is beginning to prick me. Why did I hurt my |
| poor boy? I am uneasy about him. [Loudly] Constantine! |
| Constantine! |
| MASHA. Shall I go and find him? |
| ARKADINA. If you please, my dear. |
| MASHA. [Goes off to the left, calling] Mr. Constantine! Oh, Mr. |
| Constantine! |
| NINA. [Comes in from behind the stage] I see that the play will |
| never be finished, so now I can go home. Good evening. [She |
| kisses ARKADINA and PAULINA.] |
| SORIN. Bravo! Bravo! |
| ARKADINA. Bravo! Bravo! We were quite charmed by your acting. |
| With your looks and such a lovely voice it is a crime for you to |
| hide yourself in the country. You must be very talented. It is |
| your duty to go on the stage, do you hear me? |
| NINA. It is the dream of my life, which will never come true. |
| ARKADINA. Who knows? Perhaps it will. But let me present Monsieur |
| Boris Trigorin. |
| NINA. I am delighted to meet you. [Embarrassed] I have read all |
| your books. |
| ARKADINA. [Drawing NINA down beside her] Don't be afraid of him, |
| dear. He is a simple, good-natured soul, even if he is a |
| celebrity. See, he is embarrassed himself. |
| DORN. Couldn't the curtain be raised now? It is depressing to |
| have it down. |
| SHAMRAEFF. [Loudly] Jacob, my man! Raise the curtain! |
| NINA. [To TRIGORIN] It was a curious play, wasn't it? |
| TRIGORIN. Very. I couldn't understand it at all, but I watched it |
| with the greatest pleasure because you acted with such sincerity, |
| and the setting was beautiful. [A pause] There must be a lot of |
| fish in this lake. |
| NINA. Yes, there are. |
| TRIGORIN. I love fishing. I know of nothing pleasanter than to |
| sit on a lake shore in the evening with one's eyes on a floating |
| cork. |
| NINA. Why, I should think that for one who has tasted the joys of |
| creation, no other pleasure could exist. |
| ARKADINA. Don't talk like that. He always begins to flounder when |
| people say nice things to him. |
| SHAMRAEFF. I remember when the famous Silva was singing once in |
| the Opera House at Moscow, how delighted we all were when he took |
| the low C. Well, you can imagine our astonishment when one of the |
| church cantors, who happened to be sitting in the gallery, suddenly |
| boomed out: "Bravo, Silva!" a whole octave lower. Like this: [In a |
| deep bass voice] "Bravo, Silva!" The audience was left breathless. |
| [A pause.] |
| DORN. An angel of silence is flying over our heads. |
| NINA. I must go. Good-bye. |
| ARKADINA. Where to? Where must you go so early? We shan't allow |
| it. |
| NINA. My father is waiting for me. |
| ARKADINA. How cruel he is, really. [They kiss each other] Then I |
| suppose we can't keep you, but it is very hard indeed to let you |
| go. |
| NINA. If you only knew how hard it is for me to leave you all. |
| ARKADINA. Somebody must see you home, my pet. |
| NINA. [Startled] No, no! |
| SORIN. [Imploringly] Don't go! |
| NINA. I must. |
| SORIN. Stay just one hour more, and all. Come now, really, you |
| know. |
| NINA. [Struggling against her desire to stay; through her tears] |
| No, no, I can't. [She shakes hands with him and quickly goes |
| out.] |
| ARKADINA. An unlucky girl! They say that her mother left the |
| whole of an immense fortune to her husband, and now the child is |
| penniless because the father has already willed everything away |
| to his second wife. It is pitiful. |
| DORN. Yes, her papa is a perfect beast, and I don't mind saying |
| so—it is what he deserves. |
| SORIN. [Rubbing his chilled hands] Come, let us go in; the night |
| is damp, and my legs are aching. |
| ARKADINA. Yes, you act as if they were turned to stone; you can |
| hardly move them. Come, you unfortunate old man. [She takes his |
| arm.] |
| SHAMRAEFF. [Offering his arm to his wife] Permit me, madame. |
| SORIN. I hear that dog howling again. Won't you please have it |
| unchained, Shamraeff? |
| SHAMRAEFF. No, I really can't, sir. The granary is full of |
| millet, and I am afraid thieves might break in if the dog were |
| not there. [Walking beside MEDVIEDENKO] Yes, a whole octave |
| lower: "Bravo, Silva!" and he wasn't a singer either, just a |
| simple church cantor. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. What salary does the church pay its singers? [All go |
| out except DORN.] |
| DORN. I may have lost my judgment and my wits, but I must confess |
| I liked that play. There was something in it. When the girl spoke |
| of her solitude and the Devil's eyes gleamed across the lake, I |
| felt my hands shaking with excitement. It was so fresh and naive. |
| But here he comes; let me say something pleasant to him. |
| TREPLIEFF comes in. |
| TREPLIEFF. All gone already? |
| DORN. I am here. |
| TREPLIEFF. Masha has been yelling for me all over the park. An |
| insufferable creature. |
| DORN. Constantine, your play delighted me. It was strange, of |
| course, and I did not hear the end, but it made a deep impression |
| on me. You have a great deal of talent, and must persevere in |
| your work. |
| TREPLIEFF seizes his hand and squeezes it hard, then kisses him |
| impetuously. |
| DORN. Tut, tut! how excited you are. Your eyes are full of tears. |
| Listen to me. You chose your subject in the realm of abstract |
| thought, and you did quite right. A work of art should invariably |
| embody some lofty idea. Only that which is seriously meant can |
| ever be beautiful. How pale you are! |
| TREPLIEFF. So you advise me to persevere? |
| DORN. Yes, but use your talent to express only deep and eternal |
| truths. I have led a quiet life, as you know, and am a contented |
| man, but if I should ever experience the exaltation that an |
| artist feels during his moments of creation, I think I should |
| spurn this material envelope of my soul and everything connected |
| with it, and should soar away into heights above this earth. |
| TREPLIEFF. I beg your pardon, but where is Nina? |
| DORN. And yet another thing: every work of art should have a |
| definite object in view. You should know why you are writing, for |
| if you follow the road of art without a goal before your eyes, |
| you will lose yourself, and your genius will be your ruin. |
| TREPLIEFF. [Impetuously] Where is Nina? |
| DORN. She has gone home. |
| TREPLIEFF. [In despair] Gone home? What shall I do? I want to see |
| her; I must see her! I shall follow her. |
| DORN. My dear boy, keep quiet. |
| TREPLIEFF. I am going. I must go. |
| MASHA comes in. |
| MASHA. Your mother wants you to come in, Mr. Constantine. She is |
| waiting for you, and is very uneasy. |
| TREPLIEFF. Tell her I have gone away. And for heaven's sake, all |
| of you, leave me alone! Go away! Don't follow me about! |
| DORN. Come, come, old chap, don't act like this; it isn't kind at |
| all. |
| TREPLIEFF. [Through his tears] Good-bye, doctor, and thank you. |
| TREPLIEFF goes out. |
| DORN. [Sighing] Ah, youth, youth! |
| MASHA. It is always "Youth, youth," when there is nothing else to |
| be said. |
| She takes snuff. DORN takes the snuff-box out of her hands and |
| flings it into the bushes. |
| DORN. Don't do that, it is horrid. [A pause] I hear music in the |
| house. I must go in. |
| MASHA. Wait a moment. |
| DORN. What do you want? |
| MASHA. Let me tell you again. I feel like talking. [She grows |
| more and more excited] I do not love my father, but my heart |
| turns to you. For some reason, I feel with all my soul that you |
| are near to me. Help me! Help me, or I shall do something foolish |
| and mock at my life, and ruin it. I am at the end of my strength. |
| DORN. What is the matter? How can I help you? |
| MASHA. I am in agony. No one, no one can imagine how I suffer. |
| [She lays her head on his shoulder and speaks softly] I love |
| Constantine. |
| DORN. Oh, how excitable you all are! And how much love there is |
| about this lake of spells! [Tenderly] But what can I do for you, |
| my child? What? What? |
| The curtain falls. |
|
|
||||
|
