READ STUDY GUIDE: First half of Act Four | Second half of Act Four |
|
Act IV
| A sitting-room in SORIN'S house, which has been converted into a |
| writing-room for TREPLIEFF. To the right and left are doors |
| leading into inner rooms, and in the centre is a glass door |
| opening onto a terrace. Besides the usual furniture of a |
| sitting-room there is a writing-desk in the right-hand corner of |
| the room. There is a Turkish divan near the door on the left, and |
| shelves full of books stand against t he walls. Books are lying |
| scattered about on the windowsills and chairs. It is evening. The |
| room is dimly lighted by a shaded lamp on a table. The wind moans |
| in the tree tops and whistles down the chimney. The watchman in |
| the garden is heard sounding his rattle. MEDVIEDENKO and MASHA |
| come in. |
| MASHA. [Calling TREPLIEFF] Mr. Constantine, where are you? |
| [Looking about her] There is no one here. His old uncle is |
| forever asking for Constantine, and can't live without him for an |
| instant. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. He dreads being left alone. [Listening to the wind] |
| This is a wild night. We have had this storm for two days. |
| MASHA. [Turning up the lamp] The waves on the lake are enormous. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. It is very dark in the garden. Do you know, I think |
| that old theatre ought to be knocked down. It is still standing |
| there, naked and hideous as a skeleton, with the curtain flapping |
| in the wind. I thought I heard a voice weeping in it as I passed |
| there last night. |
| MASHA. What an idea! [A pause.] |
| MEDVIEDENKO. Come home with me, Masha. |
| MASHA. [Shaking her head] I shall spend the night here. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. [Imploringly] Do come, Masha. The baby must be |
| hungry. |
| MASHA. Nonsense, Matriona will feed it. [A pause.] |
| MEDVIEDENKO. It is a pity to leave him three nights without his |
| mother. |
| MASHA. You are getting too tiresome. You used sometimes to talk |
| of other things besides home and the baby, home and the baby. |
| That is all I ever hear from you now. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. Come home, Masha. |
| MASHA. You can go home if you want to. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. Your father won't give me a horse. |
| MASHA. Yes, he will; ask him. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. I think I shall. Are you coming home to-morrow? |
| MASHA. Yes, yes, to-morrow. |
| She takes snuff. TREPLIEFF and PAULINA come in. TREPLIEFF is |
| carrying some pillows and a blanket, and PAULINA is carrying |
| sheets and pillow cases. They lay them on the divan, and |
| TREPLIEFF goes and sits down at his desk. |
| MASHA. Who is that for, mother? |
| PAULINA. Mr. Sorin asked to sleep in Constantine's room to-night. |
| MASHA. Let me make the bed. |
| She makes the bed. PAULINA goes up to the desk and looks at the |
| manuscripts lying on it. [A pause.] |
| MEDVIEDENKO. Well, I am going. Good-bye, Masha. [He kisses his |
| wife's hand] Good-bye, mother. [He tries to kiss his |
| mother-in-law's hand.] |
| PAULINA. [Crossly] Be off, in God's name! |
| TREPLIEFF shakes hands with him in silence, and MEDVIEDENKO goes |
| out. |
| PAULINA. [Looking at the manuscripts] No one ever dreamed, |
| Constantine, that you would one day turn into a real author. The |
| magazines pay you well for your stories. [She strokes his hair.] |
| You have grown handsome, too. Dear, kind Constantine, be a little |
| nicer to my Masha. |
| MASHA. [Still making the bed] Leave him alone, mother. |
| PAULINA. She is a sweet child. [A pause] A woman, Constantine, |
| asks only for kind looks. I know that from experience. |
| TREPLIEFF gets up from his desk and goes out without a word. |
| MASHA. There now! You have vexed him. I told you not to bother |
| him. |
| PAULINA. I am sorry for you, Masha. |
| MASHA. Much I need your pity! |
| PAULINA. My heart aches for you. I see how things are, and |
| understand. |
| MASHA. You see what doesn't exist. Hopeless love is only found in |
| novels. It is a trifle; all one has to do is to keep a tight rein |
| on oneself, and keep one's head clear. Love must be plucked out |
| the moment it springs up in the heart. My husband has been |
| promised a school in another district, and when we have once left |
| this place I shall forget it all. I shall tear my passion out by |
| the roots. [The notes of a melancholy waltz are heard in the |
| distance.] |
| PAULINA. Constantine is playing. That means he is sad. |
| MASHA silently waltzes a few turns to the music. |
| MASHA. The great thing, mother, is not to have him continually in |
| sight. If my Simon could only get his remove I should forget it |
| all in a month or two. It is a trifle. |
| DORN and MEDVIEDENKO come in through the door on the left, |
| wheeling SORIN in an arm-chair. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. I have six mouths to feed now, and flour is at |
| seventy kopecks. |
| DORN. A hard riddle to solve! |
| MEDVIEDENKO. It is easy for you to make light of it. You are rich |
| enough to scatter money to your chickens, if you wanted to. |
| DORN. You think I am rich? My friend, after practising for thirty |
| years, during which I could not call my soul my own for one |
| minute of the night or day, I succeeded at last in scraping |
| together one thousand roubles, all of which went, not long ago, |
| in a trip which I took abroad. I haven't a penny. |
| MASHA. [To her husband] So you didn't go home after all? |
| MEDVIEDENKO. [Apologetically] How can I go home when they won't |
| give me a horse? |
| MASHA. [Under her breath, with bitter anger] Would I might never |
| see your face again! |
| SORIN in his chair is wheeled to the left-hand side of the room. |
| PAULINA, MASHA, and DORN sit down beside him. MEDVIEDENKO stands |
| sadly aside. |
| DORN. What a lot of changes you have made here! You have turned |
| this sitting-room into a library. |
| MASHA. Constantine likes to work in this room, because from it he |
| can step out into the garden to meditate whenever he feels like |
| it. [The watchman's rattle is heard.] |
| SORIN. Where is my sister? |
| DORN. She has gone to the station to meet Trigorin. She will soon |
| be back. |
| SORIN. I must be dangerously ill if you had to send for my |
| sister. [He falls silent for a moment] A nice business this is! |
| Here I am dangerously ill, and you won't even give me any |
| medicine. |
| DORN. What shall I prescribe for you? Camomile tea? Soda? |
| Quinine? |
| SORIN. Don't inflict any of your discussions on me again. [He |
| nods toward the sofa] Is that bed for me? |
| PAULINA. Yes, for you, sir. |
| SORIN. Thank you. |
| DORN. [Sings] "The moon swims in the sky to-night." |
| SORIN. I am going to give Constantine an idea for a story. It |
| shall be called "The Man Who Wished—L'Homme qui a voulu." When I |
| was young, I wished to become an author; I failed. I wished to be |
| an orator; I speak abominably, [Exciting himself] with my eternal |
| "and all, and all," dragging each sentence on and on until I |
| sometimes break out into a sweat all over. I wished to marry, and |
| I didn't; I wished to live in the city, and here I am ending my |
| days in the country, and all. |
| DORN. You wished to become State Councillor, and—you are one! |
| SORIN. [Laughing] I didn't try for that, it came of its own |
| accord. |
| DORN. Come, you must admit that it is petty to cavil at life at |
| sixty-two years of age. |
| SORIN. You are pig-headed! Can't you see I want to live? |
| DORN. That is futile. Nature has commanded that every life shall |
| come to an end. |
| SORIN. You speak like a man who is satiated with life. Your |
| thirst for it is quenched, and so you are calm and indifferent, |
| but even you dread death. |
| DORN. The fear of death is an animal passion which must be |
| overcome. Only those who believe in a future life and tremble for |
| sins committed, can logically fear death; but you, for one thing, |
| don't believe in a future life, and for another, you haven't |
| committed any sins. You have served as a Councillor for |
| twenty-five years, that is all. |
| SORIN. [Laughing] Twenty-eight years! |
| TREPLIEFF comes in and sits down on a stool at SORIN'S feet. |
| MASHA fixes her eyes on his face and never once tears them away. |
| DORN. We are keeping Constantine from his work. |
| TREPLIEFF. No matter. [A pause.] |
| MEDVIEDENKO. Of all the cities you visited when you were abroad, |
| Doctor, which one did you like the best? |
| DORN. Genoa. |
| TREPLIEFF. Why Genoa? |
| DORN. Because there is such a splendid crowd in its streets. When |
| you leave the hotel in the evening, and throw yourself into the |
| heart of that throng, and move with it without aim or object, |
| swept along, hither and thither, their life seems to be yours, |
| their soul flows into you, and you begin to believe at last in a |
| great world spirit, like the one in your play that Nina |
| Zarietchnaya acted. By the way, where is Nina now? Is she well? |
| TREPLIEFF. I believe so. |
| DORN. I hear she has led rather a strange life; what happened? |
| TREPLIEFF. It is a long story, Doctor. |
| DORN. Tell it shortly. [A pause.] |
| TREPLIEFF. She ran away from home and joined Trigorin; you know |
| that? |
| DORN. Yes. |
| TREPLIEFF. She had a child that died. Trigorin soon tired of her |
| and returned to his former ties, as might have been expected. He |
| had never broken them, indeed, but out of weakness of character |
| had always vacillated between the two. As far as I can make out |
| from what I have heard, Nina's domestic life has not been |
| altogether a success. |
| DORN. What about her acting? |
| TREPLIEFF. I believe she made an even worse failure of that. She |
| made her debut on the stage of the Summer Theatre in Moscow, and |
| afterward made a tour of the country towns. At that time I never |
| let her out of my sight, and wherever she went I followed. She |
| always attempted great and difficult parts, but her delivery was |
| harsh and monotonous, and her gestures heavy and crude. She |
| shrieked and died well at times, but those were but moments. |
| DORN. Then she really has a talent for acting? |
| TREPLIEFF. I never could make out. I believe she has. I saw her, |
| but she refused to see me, and her servant would never admit me |
| to her rooms. I appreciated her feelings, and did not insist upon |
| a meeting. [A pause] What more can I tell you? She sometimes |
| writes to me now that I have come home, such clever, sympathetic |
| letters, full of warm feeling. She never complains, but I can |
| tell that she is profoundly unhappy; not a line but speaks to me |
| of an aching, breaking nerve. She has one strange fancy; she |
| always signs herself "The Sea-gull." The miller in "Rusalka" |
| called himself "The Crow," and so she repeats in all her letters |
| that she is a sea-gull. She is here now. |
| DORN. What do you mean by "here?" |
| TREPLIEFF. In the village, at the inn. She has been there for |
| five days. I should have gone to see her, but Masha here went, |
| and she refuses to see any one. Some one told me she had been |
| seen wandering in the fields a mile from here yesterday evening. |
| MEDVIEDENKO. Yes, I saw her. She was walking away from here in |
| the direction of the village. I asked her why she had not been to |
| see us. She said she would come. |
| TREPLIEFF. But she won't. [A pause] Her father and stepmother |
| have disowned her. They have even put watchmen all around their |
| estate to keep her away. [He goes with the doctor toward the |
| desk] How easy it is, Doctor, to be a philosopher on paper, and |
| how difficult in real life! |
| SORIN. She was a beautiful girl. Even the State Councillor |
| himself was in love with her for a time. |
| DORN. You old Lovelace, you! |
| SHAMRAEFF'S laugh is heard. |
| PAULINA. They are coming back from the station. |
| TREPLIEFF. Yes, I hear my mother's voice. |
| ARKADINA and TRIGORIN come in, followed by SHAMRAEFF. |
| SHAMRAEFF. We all grow old and wither, my lady, while you alone, |
| with your light dress, your gay spirits, and your grace, keep the |
| secret of eternal youth. |
| ARKADINA. You are still trying to turn my head, you tiresome old |
| man. |
| TRIGORIN. [To SORIN] How do you do, Peter? What, still ill? How |
| silly of you! [With evident pleasure, as he catches sight of |
| MASHA] How are you, Miss Masha? |
| MASHA. So you recognised me? [She shakes hands with him.] |
| TRIGORIN. Did you marry him? |
| MASHA. Long ago. |
| TRIGORIN. You are happy now? [He bows to DORN and MEDVIEDENKO, |
| and then goes hesitatingly toward TREPLIEFF] Your mother says you |
| have forgotten the past and are no longer angry with me. |
| TREPLIEFF gives him his hand. |
| ARKADINA. [To her son] Here is a magazine that Boris has brought |
| you with your latest story in it. |
| TREPLIEFF. [To TRIGORIN, as he takes the magazine] Many thanks; |
| you are very kind. |
| TRIGORIN. Your admirers all send you their regards. Every one in |
| Moscow and St. Petersburg is interested in you, and all ply me |
| with questions about you. They ask me what you look like, how old |
| you are, whether you are fair or dark. For some reason they all |
| think that you are no longer young, and no one knows who you are, |
| as you always write under an assumed name. You are as great a |
| mystery as the Man in the Iron Mask. |
| TREPLIEFF. Do you expect to be here long? |
| TRIGORIN. No, I must go back to Moscow to-morrow. I am finishing |
| another novel, and have promised something to a magazine besides. |
| In fact, it is the same old business. |
| During their conversation ARKADINA and PAULINA have put up a |
| card-table in the centre of the room; SHAMRAEFF lights the |
| candles and arranges the chairs, then fetches a box of lotto from |
| the cupboard. |
| TRIGORIN. The weather has given me a rough welcome. The wind is |
| frightful. If it goes down by morning I shall go fishing in the |
| lake, and shall have a look at the garden and the spot—do you |
| remember?—where your play was given. I remember the piece very |
| well, but should like to see again where the scene was laid. |
| MASHA. [To her father] Father, do please let my husband have a |
| horse. He ought to go home. |
| SHAMRAEFF. [Angrily] A horse to go home with! [Sternly] You know |
| the horses have just been to the station. I can't send them out |
| again. |
| MASHA. But there are other horses. [Seeing that her father |
| remains silent] You are impossible! |
| MEDVIEDENKO. I shall go on foot, Masha. |
| PAULINA. [With a sigh] On foot in this weather? [She takes a seat |
| at the card-table] Shall we begin? |
| MEDVIEDENKO. It is only six miles. Good-bye. [He kisses his |
| wife's hand;] Good-bye, mother. [His mother-in-law gives him her |
| hand unwillingly] I should not have troubled you all, but the |
| baby—[He bows to every one] Good-bye. [He goes out with an |
| apologetic air.] |
| SHAMRAEFF. He will get there all right, he is not a |
| major-general. |
| PAULINA. Come, let us begin. Don't let us waste time, we shall |
| soon be called to supper. |
| SHAMRAEFF, MASHA, and DORN sit down at the card-table. |
| ARKADINA. [To TRIGORIN] When the long autumn evenings descend on |
| us we while away the time here by playing lotto. Look at this old |
| set; we used it when our mother played with us as children. Don't |
| you want to take a hand in the game with us until supper time? |
| [She and TRIGORIN sit down at the table] It is a monotonous game, |
| but it is all right when one gets used to it. [She deals three |
| cards to each of the players.] |
| TREPLIEFF. [Looking through the pages of the magazine] He has |
| read his own story, and hasn't even cut the pages of mine. |
| He lays the magazine on his desk and goes toward the door on the |
| right, stopping as he passes his mother to give her a kiss. |
| ARKADINA. Won't you play, Constantine? |
| TREPLIEFF. No, excuse me please, I don't feel like it. I am going |
| to take a turn through the rooms. [He goes out.] |
| MASHA. Are you all ready? I shall begin: twenty-two. |
| ARKADINA. Here it is. |
| MASHA. Three. |
| DORN. Right. |
| MASHA. Have you put down three? Eight. Eighty-one. Ten. |
| SHAMRAEFF. Don't go so fast. |
| ARKADINA. Could you believe it? I am still dazed by the reception |
| they gave me in Kharkoff. |
| MASHA. Thirty-four. [The notes of a melancholy waltz are heard.] |
| ARKADINA. The students gave me an ovation; they sent me three |
| baskets of flowers, a wreath, and this thing here. |
| She unclasps a brooch from her breast and lays it on the table. |
| SHAMRAEFF. There is something worth while! |
| MASHA. Fifty. |
| DORN. Fifty, did you say? |
| ARKADINA. I wore a perfectly magnificent dress; I am no fool when |
| it comes to clothes. |
| PAULINA. Constantine is playing again; the poor boy is sad. |
| SHAMRAEFF. He has been severely criticised in the papers. |
| MASHA. Seventy-seven. |
| ARKADINA. They want to attract attention to him. |
| TRIGORIN. He doesn't seem able to make a success, he can't |
| somehow strike the right note. There is an odd vagueness about |
| his writings that sometimes verges on delirium. He has never |
| created a single living character. |
| MASHA. Eleven. |
| ARKADINA. Are you bored, Peter? [A pause] He is asleep. |
| DORN. The Councillor is taking a nap. |
| MASHA. Seven. Ninety. |
| TRIGORIN. Do you think I should write if I lived in such a place |
| as this, on the shore of this lake? Never! I should overcome my |
| passion, and give my life up to the catching of fish. |
| MASHA. Twenty-eight. |
| TRIGORIN. And if I caught a perch or a bass, what bliss it would |
| be! |
| DORN. I have great faith in Constantine. I know there is |
| something in him. He thinks in images; his stories are vivid and |
| full of colour, and always affect me deeply. It is only a pity |
| that he has no definite object in view. He creates impressions, |
| and nothing more, and one cannot go far on impressions alone. Are |
| you glad, madam, that you have an author for a son? |
| ARKADINA. Just think, I have never read anything of his; I never |
| have time. |
| MASHA. Twenty-six. |
| TREPLIEFF comes in quietly and sits down at his table. |
| SHAMRAEFF. [To TRIGORIN] We have something here that belongs to |
| you, sir. |
| TRIGORIN. What is it? |
| SHAMRAEFF. You told me to have the sea-gull stuffed that Mr. |
| Constantine killed some time ago. |
| TRIGORIN. Did I? [Thoughtfully] I don't remember. |
| MASHA. Sixty-one. One. |
| TREPLIEFF throws open the window and stands listening. |
| TREPLIEFF. How dark the night is! I wonder what makes me so |
| restless. |
| ARKADINA. Shut the window, Constantine, there is a draught here. |
| TREPLIEFF shuts the window. |
| MASHA. Ninety-eight. |
| TRIGORIN. See, my card is full. |
| ARKADINA. [Gaily] Bravo! Bravo! |
| SHAMRAEFF. Bravo! |
| ARKADINA. Wherever he goes and whatever he does, that man always |
| has good luck. [She gets up] And now, come to supper. Our |
| renowned guest did not have any dinner to-day. We can continue |
| our game later. [To her son] Come, Constantine, leave your |
| writing and come to supper. |
| TREPLIEFF. I don't want anything to eat, mother; I am not hungry. |
| ARKADINA. As you please. [She wakes SORIN] Come to supper, Peter. |
| [She takes SHAMRAEFF'S arm] Let me tell you about my reception in |
| Kharkoff. |
| PAULINA blows out the candles on the table, then she and DORN |
| roll SORIN'S chair out of the room, and all go out through the |
| door on the left, except TREPLIEFF, who is left alone. TREPLIEFF |
| prepares to write. He runs his eye over what he has already |
| written. |
| TREPLIEFF. I have talked a great deal about new forms of art, but |
| I feel myself gradually slipping into the beaten track. [He |
| reads] "The placard cried it from the wall—a pale face in a |
| frame of dusky hair"—cried—frame—that is stupid. [He scratches |
| out what he has written] I shall begin again from the place where |
| my hero is wakened by the noise of the rain, but what follows |
| must go. This description of a moonlight night is long and |
| stilted. Trigorin has worked out a process of his own, and |
| descriptions are easy for him. He writes that the neck of a |
| broken bottle lying on the bank glittered in the moonlight, and |
| that the shadows lay black under the mill-wheel. There you have a |
| moonlight night before your eyes, but I speak of the shimmering |
| light, the twinkling stars, the distant sounds of a piano melting |
| into the still and scented air, and the result is abominable. [A |
| pause] The conviction is gradually forcing itself upon me that |
| good literature is not a question of forms new or old, but of |
| ideas that must pour freely from the author's heart, without his |
| bothering his head about any forms whatsoever. [A knock is heard |
| at the window nearest the table] What was that? [He looks out of |
| the window] I can't see anything. [He opens the glass door and |
| looks out into the garden] I heard some one run down the steps. |
| [He calls] Who is there? [He goes out, and is heard walking |
| quickly along the terrace. In a few minutes he comes back with |
| NINA ZARIETCHNAYA] Oh, Nina, Nina! |
| NINA lays her head on TREPLIEFF'S breast and stifles her sobs. |
| TREPLIEFF. [Deeply moved] Nina, Nina! It is you—you! I felt you |
| would come; all day my heart has been aching for you. [He takes |
| off her hat and cloak] My darling, my beloved has come back to |
| me! We mustn't cry, we mustn't cry. |
| NINA. There is some one here. |
| TREPLIEFF. No one is here. |
| NINA. Lock the door, some one might come. |
| TREPLIEFF. No one will come in. |
| NINA. I know your mother is here. Lock the door. |
| TREPLIEFF locks the door on the right and comes back to NINA. |
| TREPLIEFF. There is no lock on that one. I shall put a chair |
| against it. [He puts an arm-chair against the door] Don't be |
| frightened, no one shall come in. |
| NINA. [Gazing intently into his face] Let me look at you. [She |
| looks about her] It is warm and comfortable in here. This used to |
| be a sitting-room. Have I changed much? |
| TREPLIEFF. Yes, you have grown thinner, and your eyes are larger |
| than they were. Nina, it seems so strange to see you! Why didn't |
| you let me go to you? Why didn't you come sooner to me? You have |
| been here nearly a week, I know. I have been several times each |
| day to where you live, and have stood like a beggar beneath your |
| window. |
| NINA. I was afraid you might hate me. I dream every night that |
| you look at me without recognising me. I have been wandering |
| about on the shores of the lake ever since I came back. I have |
| often been near your house, but I have never had the courage to |
| come in. Let us sit down. [They sit down] Let us sit down and |
| talk our hearts out. It is so quiet and warm in here. Do you hear |
| the wind whistling outside? As Turgenieff says, "Happy is he who |
| can sit at night under the roof of his home, who has a warm |
| corner in which to take refuge." I am a sea-gull—and yet—no. |
| [She passes her hand across her forehead] What was I saying? Oh, |
| yes, Turgenieff. He says, "and God help all houseless wanderers." |
| [She sobs.] |
| TREPLIEFF. Nina! You are crying again, Nina! |
| NINA. It is all right. I shall feel better after this. I have not |
| cried for two years. I went into the garden last night to see if |
| our old theatre were still standing. I see it is. I wept there |
| for the first time in two years, and my heart grew lighter, and |
| my soul saw more clearly again. See, I am not crying now. [She |
| takes his hand in hers] So you are an author now, and I am an |
| actress. We have both been sucked into the whirlpool. My life |
| used to be as happy as a child's; I used to wake singing in the |
| morning; I loved you and dreamt of fame, and what is the reality? |
| To-morrow morning early I must start for Eltz by train in a |
| third-class carriage, with a lot of peasants, and at Eltz the |
| educated trades-people will pursue me with compliments. It is a |
| rough life. |
| TREPLIEFF. Why are you going to Eltz? |
| NINA. I have accepted an engagement there for the winter. It is |
| time for me to go. |
| TREPLIEFF. Nina, I have cursed you, and hated you, and torn up |
| your photograph, and yet I have known every minute of my life |
| that my heart and soul were yours for ever. To cease from loving |
| you is beyond my power. I have suffered continually from the time |
| I lost you and began to write, and my life has been almost |
| unendurable. My youth was suddenly plucked from me then, and I |
| seem now to have lived in this world for ninety years. I have |
| called out to you, I have kissed the ground you walked on, |
| wherever I looked I have seen your face before my eyes, and the |
| smile that had illumined for me the best years of my life. |
| NINA. [Despairingly] Why, why does he talk to me like this? |
| TREPLIEFF. I am quite alone, unwarmed by any attachment. I am as |
| cold as if I were living in a cave. Whatever I write is dry and |
| gloomy and harsh. Stay here, Nina, I beseech you, or else let me |
| go away with you. |
| NINA quickly puts on her coat and hat. |
| TREPLIEFF. Nina, why do you do that? For God's sake, Nina! [He |
| watches her as she dresses. A pause.] |
| NINA. My carriage is at the gate. Do not come out to see me off. |
| I shall find the way alone. [Weeping] Let me have some water. |
| TREPLIEFF hands her a glass of water. |
| TREPLIEFF. Where are you going? |
| NINA. Back to the village. Is your mother here? |
| TREPLIEFF. Yes, my uncle fell ill on Thursday, and we telegraphed |
| for her to come. |
| NINA. Why do you say that you have kissed the ground I walked on? |
| You should kill me rather. [She bends over the table] I am so |
| tired. If I could only rest—rest. [She raises her head] I am a |
| sea-gull—no—no, I am an actress. [She hears ARKADINA and |
| TRIGORIN laughing in the distance, runs to the door on the left |
| and looks through the keyhole] He is there too. [She goes back to |
| TREPLIEFF] Ah, well—no matter. He does not believe in the |
| theatre; he used to laugh at my dreams, so that little by little |
| I became down-hearted and ceased to believe in it too. Then came |
| all the cares of love, the continual anxiety about my little one, |
| so that I soon grew trivial and spiritless, and played my parts |
| without meaning. I never knew what to do with my hands, and I |
| could not walk properly or control my voice. You cannot imagine |
| the state of mind of one who knows as he goes through a play how |
| terribly badly he is acting. I am a sea-gull—no—no, that is not |
| what I meant to say. Do you remember how you shot a seagull |
| once? A man chanced to pass that way and destroyed it out of |
| idleness. That is an idea for a short story, but it is not what I |
| meant to say. [She passes her hand across her forehead] What was |
| I saying? Oh, yes, the stage. I have changed now. Now I am a real |
| actress. I act with joy, with exaltation, I am intoxicated by it, |
| and feel that I am superb. I have been walking and walking, and |
| thinking and thinking, ever since I have been here, and I feel |
| the strength of my spirit growing in me every day. I know now, I |
| understand at last, Constantine, that for us, whether we write or |
| act, it is not the honour and glory of which I have dreamt that |
| is important, it is the strength to endure. One must know how to |
| bear one's cross, and one must have faith. I believe, and so do |
| not suffer so much, and when I think of my calling I do not fear |
| life. |
| TREPLIEFF. [Sadly] You have found your way, you know where you |
| are going, but I am still groping in a chaos of phantoms and |
| dreams, not knowing whom and what end I am serving by it all. I |
| do not believe in anything, and I do not know what my calling is. |
| NINA. [Listening] Hush! I must go. Good-bye. When I have become a |
| famous actress you must come and see me. Will you promise to |
| come? But now—[She takes his hand] it is late. I can hardly |
| stand. I am fainting. I am hungry. |
| TREPLIEFF. Stay, and let me bring you some supper. |
| NINA. No, no—and don't come out, I can find the way alone. My |
| carriage is not far away. So she brought him back with her? |
| However, what difference can that make to me? Don't tell Trigorin |
| anything when you see him. I love him—I love him even more than |
| I used to. It is an idea for a short story. I love him—I love |
| him passionately—I love him to despair. Have you forgotten, |
| Constantine, how pleasant the old times were? What a gay, bright, |
| gentle, pure life we led? How a feeling as sweet and tender as a |
| flower blossomed in our hearts? Do you remember, [She recites] |
| "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 set before it, |
| has died out at last. A thousand years have passed since the |
| earth last bore a living creature on its 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——" |
| She embraces TREPLIEFF impetuously and runs out onto the terrace. |
| TREPLIEFF. [After a pause] It would be a pity if she were seen in |
| the garden. My mother would be distressed. |
| He stands for several minutes tearing up his manuscripts and |
| throwing them under the table, then unlocks the door on the right |
| and goes out. |
| DORN. [Trying to force open the door on the left] Odd! This door |
| seems to be locked. [He comes in and puts the chair back in its |
| former place] This is like a hurdle race. |
| ARKADINA and PAULINA come in, followed by JACOB carrying some |
| bottles; then come MASHA, SHAMRAEFF, and TRIGORIN. |
| ARKADINA. Put the claret and the beer here, on the table, so that |
| we can drink while we are playing. Sit down, friends. |
| PAULINA. And bring the tea at once. |
| She lights the candles and takes her seat at the card-table. |
| SHAMRAEFF leads TRIGORIN to the cupboard. |
| SHAMRAEFF. Here is the stuffed sea-gull I was telling you about. |
| [He takes the sea-gull out of the cupboard] You told me to have |
| it done. |
| TRIGORIN. [looking at the bird] I don't remember a thing about |
| it, not a thing. [A shot is heard. Every one jumps.] |
| ARKADINA. [Frightened] What was that? |
| DORN. Nothing at all; probably one of my medicine bottles has |
| blown up. Don't worry. [He goes out through the door on the |
| right, and comes back in a few moments] It is as I thought, a |
| flask of ether has exploded. [He sings] |
 "Spellbound once more I stand before thee." |
| ARKADINA. [Sitting down at the table] Heavens! I was really |
| frightened. That noise reminded me of—[She covers her face with |
| her hands] Everything is black before my eyes. |
| DORN. [Looking through the pages of a magazine, to TRIGORIN] |
| There was an article from America in this magazine about two |
| months ago that I wanted to ask you about, among other things. |
| [He leads TRIGORIN to the front of the stage] I am very much |
| interested in this question. [He lowers his voice and whispers] |
| You must take Madame Arkadina away from here; what I wanted to |
| say was, that Constantine has shot himself. |
| The curtain falls.The curtain falls. |
|
|
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|
