A sitting-room in SORIN'S house, which has been converted into a writing-room for
TREPLIEFF. To the right and left are doors leading into inner rooms, and in the centre is
a glass door opening onto a terrace. Besides the usual furniture of a sitting-room there is a
writing-desk in the right-hand corner of the room. There is a Turkish divan near the door
on the left, and shelves full of books stand against t he walls. Books are lying scattered
about on the windowsills and chairs. It is evening. The room is dimly lighted by a shaded
lamp on a table. The wind moans in the tree tops and whistles down the chimney. The
watchman in the garden is heard sounding his rattle. MEDVIEDENKO and MASHA
MASHA. [Calling TREPLIEFF] Mr. Constantine, where are you? [Looking about her]
There is no one here. His old uncle is forever asking for Constantine, and can't live
without him for an instant.
MEDVIEDENKO. He dreads being left alone. [Listening to the wind] This is a wild
night. We have had this storm for two days.
MASHA. [Turning up the lamp] The waves on the lake are enormous.
MEDVIEDENKO. It is very dark in the garden. Do you know, I think that old theatre
ought to be knocked down. It is still standing there, naked and hideous as a skeleton, with
the curtain flapping in the wind. I thought I heard a voice weeping in it as I passed there
MASHA. What an idea! [A pause.]
MEDVIEDENKO. Come home with me, Masha.
MASHA. [Shaking her head] I shall spend the night here.
MEDVIEDENKO. [Imploringly] Do come, Masha. The baby must be hungry.
MASHA. Nonsense, Matriona will feed it. [A pause.]
MEDVIEDENKO. It is a pity to leave him three nights without his mother.
MASHA. You are getting too tiresome. You used sometimes to talk of other things
besides home and the baby, home and the baby. That is all I ever hear from you now.
MEDVIEDENKO. Come home, Masha.
MASHA. You can go home if you want to.