The Sea-Gull

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.