The Sea-Gull. Anton Pavlovich Chekhov

down.

      SHAMRAEFF. [Loudly] Jacob, my man! Raise the curtain!

      NINA. [To TRIGORIN] It was a curious play, wasn’t it?

      TRIGORIN. Very. I couldn’t understand it at all, but I watched it with the greatest pleasure because you acted with such sincerity, and the setting was beautiful. [A pause] There must be a lot of fish in this lake.

      NINA. Yes, there are.

      TRIGORIN. I love fishing. I know of nothing pleasanter than to sit on a lake shore in the evening with one’s eyes on a floating cork.

      NINA. Why, I should think that for one who has tasted the joys of creation, no other pleasure could exist.

      ARKADINA. Don’t talk like that. He always begins to flounder when people say nice things to him.

      SHAMRAEFF. I remember when the famous Silva was singing once in the Opera House at Moscow, how delighted we all were when he took the low C. Well, you can imagine our astonishment when one of the church cantors, who happened to be sitting in the gallery, suddenly boomed out: “Bravo, Silva!” a whole octave lower. Like this: [In a deep bass voice] “Bravo, Silva!” The audience was left breathless. [A pause.]

      DORN. An angel of silence is flying over our heads.

      NINA. I must go. Good-bye.

      ARKADINA. Where to? Where must you go so early? We shan’t allow it.

      NINA. My father is waiting for me.

      ARKADINA. How cruel he is, really. [They kiss each other] Then I suppose we can’t keep you, but it is very hard indeed to let you go.

      NINA. If you only knew how hard it is for me to leave you all.

      ARKADINA. Somebody must see you home, my pet.

      NINA. [Startled] No, no!

      SORIN. [Imploringly] Don’t go!

      NINA. I must.

      SORIN. Stay just one hour more, and all. Come now, really, you know.