SORIN. I’ll go fetch ‘em and all the rest. Right this minute. (Crosses right and sings.) “Back to France two grenadiers . . .”23 (Looking round.) Once I started singing just like that, and some assistant D.A.24 says to me, “Your Honor, that’s a powerful voice you’ve got . . .” Then he thought a bit and added, “Powerful . . . but repulsive.” (Laughs and exits.)
NINA. Father and his wife won’t let me come here. They say this place is bohemian . . . they’re afraid I might become an actress . . . But I’m drawn here to the lake, like a gull . . . My heart is filled with all of you. (Looks around.)
TREPLYOV. We’re alone.
NINA. I think there’s someone over there.
TREPLYOV. No one. (Kiss.)
NINA. What kind of tree is that?
TREPLYOV. Elm.
NINA. How come it’s so dark?
TREPLYOV. It’s nightfall, things get dark. Don’t leave so soon, for my sake.
NINA. Can’t.
TREPLYOV. What if I ride over to your place, Nina? I’ll stand all night in the garden and stare at your window.
NINA. Can’t, the watchman will catch you. Trésor still isn’t used to you and he’ll start barking.
TREPLYOV. I love you.
NINA. Ssh . . .
TREPLYOV (having heard footsteps). Who’s there? That you, Yakov?
YAKOV (behind the platform). Right.
TREPLYOV. Got the methylated spirits? And the sulphur? When the red eyes make their entrance, there has to be a smell of sulphur. (To Nina.) Go on, they’ve got it all ready for you. Are you excited?
NINA. Yes, very. Your Mama doesn’t count. I’m not afraid of her, but then there’s Trigorin . . . Acting with him in the audience frightens and embarrasses me . . . A famous writer . . . Is he young?
TREPLYOV. Yes.
NINA. His stories are so wonderful!
TREPLYOV (coldly). I wouldn’t know, I haven’t read them.
NINA. It isn’t easy to act in your play. There are no living characters in it.
TREPLYOV. Living characters! Life should be portrayed not the way it is, and not the way it’s supposed to be, but the way it appears in dreams.
NINA. There isn’t much action in your play, it’s like a readthrough.25 And a play, I think, definitely ought to have love interest . . .
They both go behind the platform. Enter POLINA ANDREEVNA and DORN.
POLINA ANDREEVNA. It’s starting to get damp. Go back, put on your galoshes.
DORN. I’m overheated.
POLINA ANDREEVNA. You don’t take care of yourself. It’s sheer obstinacy. You’re a doctor and you know perfectly well that damp air is bad for you, but you want me to suffer; you deliberately sat up all last night on the veranda . . .
DORN (sings). “Say not that thy youth was wasted.”26
POLINA ANDREEVNA. You were so infatuated talking to IRINA Nikolaevna . . . you didn’t notice the cold. Admit you’re attracted to her.
DORN. I’m fifty-five years old.
POLINA ANDREEVNA. Don’t be silly, that’s not old for a man. You’re beautifully preserved and women still find you attractive.
DORN. Then what can I do for you?
POLINA ANDREEVNA. You’re all of you ready to fall on your faces at an actress’s feet. All of you!
DORN (sings). “Once again I stand before thee . . .”27 If society loves actors and treats them differently from, say, shopkeepers, it’s only natural. It’s what’s we call idealism.
POLINA ANDREEVNA. Women have always fallen in love with you and flung themselves at you. Do you call that idealism?
DORN (shrugging). So what? My relationships with women have always been a good thing. What they really loved was my being a first-class doctor. Ten or fifteen years ago, remember, I was the only competent obstetrician28 in the whole county. Not to mention, I was a man of honor.
POLINA ANDREEVNA (seizes him by the hand). My dearest!
DORN. Hush. They’re coming.
Enter ARKADINA, arm in arm with SORIN; TRIGORIN, SHAMRAEV, MEDVEDENKO, and MASHA.
SHAMRAEV. At the Poltava fair29 in 1873 she gave a marvelous performance. Sheer delight! Wonderful acting! Would you also happen to know what’s become of the comedian Chadin, Pavel Chadin? He was inimitable in Krechinskys Wedding,30 better than the great Sadovsky,31 take my word for it, dear lady. Where is he these days?
ARKADINA. You’re always asking me about these prehistoric characters. How should I know? (Sits down.)
SHAMRAEV (sighs). Good old Chadin! You don’t see his like nowadays. The stage is going downhill, IRINA Nikolaevna! In the old days there were mighty oaks, but now all you see are stumps.
DORN. There’s not a lot of brilliant talent around these days, it’s true, but the general level of acting has improved considerably.
SHAMRAEV. I can’t agree with you there. Still, it’s a matter of taste. De gustibus, pluribus unum.32
TREPLYOV enters from behind the platform.
ARKADINA (to her son). My darling son, when are we to begin?
TREPLYOV. In a minute. Have some patience.
ARKADINA (reciting from Hamlet).33 “My son, Thou turn’st mine eyes into my very soul, And there I see such black and grainéd spots As will not leave their tinct.”
TREPLYOV (reciting from Hamlet). “Then wherefore dost thou yield to sin, seeking love in a morass of crime?” (A bugle is blown behind the platform.) Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to begin! Your attention, please! (Pause.) I’m starting. (Thumps with a stick and speaks loudly.) O ye venerable and ancient shades, that nocturnally hover above this lake, put us to sleep and let us dream of what will be in two hundred thousand years!
SORIN. In two hundred thousand years, nothing will be.
TREPLYOV. Then let them reveal that nothing.
ARKADINA. Let them. We’re asleep already.
The curtain rises; the vista onto the lake is revealed; the moon is over the horizon, reflected in the water; on a large boulder NINA ZARECHNAYA is seated, dressed all in white.
NINA. Humans, lions, eagles and partridges, antlered deer, geese, spiders, silent fishes that inhabit the waters, starfish and those beings invisible to the naked eye,— in short, all living things, all living things, all living things, having completed the doleful cycle, are now extinct . . . Already thousands of centuries have passed since the earth bore any living creature, and this pale moon to no avail doth light her lamp. No more does the meadow awake to the cries of cranes, and the may flies are no longer to be heard in the linden groves. Chilly, chilly, chilly. Empty, empty, empty. Ghastly, ghastly, ghastly. (Pause.) The bodies of living creatures have crumbled into dust, and Eternal Matter has converted them into stones, water, clouds, and all their souls are mingled into one. The universal soul—’tis I . . . in person . . . . In me are mingled the souls of Alexander the Great, and Caesar, and Shakespeare, and Napoleon, and the lowliest of leeches. In me human consciousness is mingled with animal instinct, and I remember everything, everything, everything, and I relive each life within myself.