Nina. [Sits down beside Arkadina, and embraces her] I am so happy.  I belong to you now.

Sorin. [Sits down in his arm-chair] She looks lovely to-day.

Arkadina.  Yes, she has put on her prettiest dress, and looks sweet.  That was nice of you. [She kisses Nina] But we mustn’t praise her too much; we shall spoil her.  Where is Trigorin?

Nina.  He is fishing off the wharf.

Arkadina.  I wonder he isn’t bored. [She begins to read again.]

Nina.  What are you reading?

Arkadina.  “On the Water,” by Maupassant. [She reads a few lines to herself] But the rest is neither true nor interesting. [She lays down the book] I am uneasy about my son.  Tell me, what is the matter with him?  Why is he so dull and depressed lately?  He spends all his days on the lake, and I scarcely ever see him any more.

Masha.  His heart is heavy. [Timidly, to Nina] Please recite something from his play.

Nina. [Shrugging her shoulders] Shall I?  Is it so interesting?

Masha. [With suppressed rapture] When he recites, his eyes shine and his face grows pale.  His voice is beautiful and sad, and he has the ways of a poet.

Sorin begins to snore.

Dorn.  Pleasant dreams!

Arkadina.  Peter!

Sorin.  Eh?

Arkadina.  Are you asleep?

Sorin.  Not a bit of it. [A pause.]

Arkadina.  You don’t do a thing for your health, brother, but you really ought to.

Dorn.  The idea of doing anything for one’s health at sixty-five!

Sorin.  One still wants to live at sixty-five.

Dorn. [Crossly] Ho!  Take some camomile tea.

Arkadina.  I think a journey to some watering-place would be good for him.

Dorn.  Why, yes; he might go as well as not.

Arkadina.  You don’t understand.

Dorn.  There is nothing to understand in this case; it is quite clear.

Medviedenko.  He ought to give up smoking.

Sorin.  What nonsense! [A pause.]

Dorn.  No, that is not nonsense.  Wine and tobacco destroy the individuality.  After a cigar or a glass of vodka you are no longer Peter Sorin, but Peter Sorin plus somebody else.  Your ego breaks in two:  you begin to think of yourself in the third person.

Sorin.  It is easy for you to condemn smoking and drinking; you have known what life is, but what about me?  I have served in the Department of Justice for twenty-eight years, but I have never lived, I have never had any experiences.  You are satiated with life, and that is why you have an inclination for philosophy, but I want to live, and that is why I drink my wine for dinner and smoke cigars, and all.

Dorn.  One must take life seriously, and to take a cure at sixty-five and regret that one did not have more pleasure in youth is, forgive my saying so, trifling.