SONYA. Yes. [They drink and kiss each other] I've long wanted to make friends, but somehow, I was ashamed to. [She weeps.]
HELENA. Why are you crying?
SONYA. I don't know. It's nothing.
HELENA. There, there, don't cry. [She weeps] Silly! Now I'm crying too. [A pause] You're angry with me because I seem to have married your father for selfish reasons. I swear to you, if that means anything to you, that I married him for love. I was fascinated by his fame and learning. I know now that it was not real love, but it seemed real at the time. I'm innocent, and yet your clever, suspicious eyes have been punishing me for an imaginary crime ever since my marriage.
SONYA. Peace, peace! Let us forget the past.
HELENA. You must not look at people that way. It's not becoming to you. You must trust people, or life becomes impossible. [A pause]
SONYA. Tell me truly, as a friend, are you happy?
HELENA. Truly, no.
SONYA. I knew it. One more question, tell me frankly, do you wish your husband were young?
HELENA. What a child you are! Of course I do. [Laughs] Go on, ask me something else.
SONYA. Do you like the doctor?
HELENA. Yes, very much indeed.
SONYA. [Laughing] I have a stupid look on my face, haven't I? He's just gone out, and his voice is still in my ears; I hear his step; I see his face in the dark window. Let me say all I have in my heart! But no, I can't speak of it so loudly. I'm ashamed. Come to my room and let me tell you there. I seem foolish to you, don't I? Talk to me about him.
HELENA. What can I say?
SONYA. He is intelligent. He can do everything. He can cure the sick, and plant forests.
HELENA. It is not a question of medicine and forests, my dear, he is a man of genius. Do you know what that means? It means he is brave, profound, and has great vision. He plants a tree and his mind travels a thousand years into the future, and he sees visions of the happiness of the human race. People like him are rare and should be cherished. What if he does drink and act roughly at times? A man of genius cannot be a saint in Russia. There he lives, cut off from the world by cold and storm and endless roads of bottomless mud, surrounded by a rough people who are crushed by poverty and disease, his life one continuous struggle, with never a day's respite; how can a man live like that for forty years and keep himself sober and unspotted? [Kissing SONYA] I wish you happiness with all my heart; you deserve it. [She gets up] As for me, I'm a tiresome, unimportant person. In music, in romance, in my husband's house -- everywhere, in fact, I've always been an unimportant person. When you come to think of it, Sonya, the truth is -- I'm really very, very unhappy. [Walks excitedly up and down] Happiness can never exist for me in this world. Never. Why do you laugh?
SONYA. [Laughing and covering her face with her hands] I am so happy, so happy!
HELENA. I want to play the piano now. I might play a little something now.
SONYA. Oh, do, do! [She embraces her] I couldn't possibly go to sleep now. Do play!
HELENA. In a minute. Your father is still awake. Music irritates him when he's ill, but if he says I may, then I'll play a little. Go, Sonya, and ask him.
SONYA. Very well.
[She goes out. The WATCHMAN'S rattle is heard in the garden.]
HELENA. It's a long time since I've played anything. And now, I'll sit and play, and cry like a silly girl. [Speaking out of the window] Is that you rattling out there, Yefim?
VOICE OF THE WATCHMAN. It's me.
HELENA. Don't make such a noise. Your master is ill.
VOICE: OF THE WATCHMAN. I'm going away this minute. [Whistles a tune.] Hey you dogs, Zhuckha, Malchik!
SONYA. [Comes back] He says, no.
The curtain falls.
ACT III
The drawing-room of SEREBRYAKOV'S house. There are three doors: one to the right, one to the left, and one in the centre of the room. VOYNITSKY and SONYA are sitting down. HELENA is walking up and down, absorbed in thought.
VOYNITSKY. We were requested by the Herr Professor to be here at one o'clock. [Looks at his watch] It's now a quarter to one. It seems he has some communication to make to the world.
HELENA. Probably a matter of business.
VOYNITSKY. He's never had any business. He writes nonsense, grumbles, and eats his heart out with jealousy; that's all he does.
SONYA. [Reproachfully] Uncle!
VOYNITSKY. All right. I beg your pardon. [He points to HELENA] Look at her. Wandering around and ready to fall over from sheer idleness. A sweet picture, really.
HELENA. I wonder you're not tired, droning on in the same key from morning till night. [Despairingly] I'm dying of this boredom. What'll I do?
SONYA. [Shrugging her shoulders] There's plenty to do if you would.
HELENA. For instance?
SONYA. You could help run this place, teach the children, care for the sick -- isn't that enough? Before you and papa came, Uncle Vanya and I used to go to market ourselves to sell our own flour.
HELENA. I don't know anything about such things, and besides, they don't interest me. It's only in idealistic novels that women go out and teach and heal the peasants; how can I suddenly begin to do it?
SONYA. How can you live here and not do it? Wait awhile, you'll get used to it all. [Embraces her] Don't be bored, dearest. [Laughing] You feel miserable and restless, and can't seem to fit into this life, and your restlessness is infectious. Look at Uncle Vanya, he does nothing now but follow you like a shadow, and I have left my work today to come here and talk with you. I'm getting lazy, and don't want to go on with anything. Dr. Astrov hardly ever used to come here; it was all we could do to persuade him to visit us once a month, and now he's abandoned his forestry and his practice, and comes every day. You must be a witch.
VOYNITSKY. Why are you so down? [Vigorously] Come, my dearest, my beauty, be sensible! The blood of a mermaid runs in your veins. Oh, won't you let yourself be one? Give free rein to your nature for once in your life; fall head over heels in love with some other water sprite and plunge down head first into a deep pool, so that the Herr Professor and all of us just throw up our hands.
HELENA. [Angrily] Leave me alone! How cruel you are! [She tries to go out.]
VOYNITSKY. [Preventing her] There, there, my beauty, I apologise. [He kisses her hand] Forgive me.
HELENA. Confess it -- you'd try the patience of an angel.
VOYNITSKY. As a peace offering I'm going to fetch a bouquet of flowers which I picked for you this morning: some autumn roses, beautiful, sorrowful roses. [He goes out.]
SONYA. Autumn roses, beautiful, sorrowful roses!
[She and HELENA stand looking out of the window.]
HELENA. September already! How shall we live through the long winter here? [A pause] Where's the doctor?
SONYA. He's writing in Uncle Vanya's room. I'm glad Uncle Vanya has gone out, I want to talk to you about something.
HELENA. About what?
SONYA. About what? [She lays her head on HELENA'S breast.]
HELENA. There, there, that will do. [Stroking her hair] Don't, Sonya.
SONYA. I'm ugly!
HELENA. You have lovely hair.
SONYA. No! [She turns to look at herself in the mirror] No, when a woman is ugly they always say she has beautiful hair or eyes. I've loved him now for six years, I've loved him more than one loves one's mother. I seem to hear him beside me every moment of the day. I feel the pressure of his hand on mine. If I look up, I seem to see him coming, and as you see, I run to you to talk of him. He's here every day now, but he never looks at me, he doesn't notice my presence. It's agony. I have absolutely no hope, no, no hope. [Desperately] Oh, my God! Give me strength to endure. I prayed all last night. I often go up to him and speak to him and look into his eyes. My pride is gone. My self-control. Yesterday I couldn't control myself and told Uncle Vanya I was in love, and all the servants know it. Every one knows that I love him.