not know what to do with my arms, I did not know how to stand on the stage, could not control my voice. You can’t understand what it feels like when one knows one is acting disgracefully. I am a seagull. No, that’s not it. … Do you remember you shot a seagull? A man came by chance, saw it and, just to pass the time, destroyed it. … A subject for a short story. … That’s not it, though rubs herforehead. What was I saying? I am talking of the stage. Now I am not like that. I am a real actress, I act with enjoyment, with enthusiasm, I am intoxicated when I am on the stage and feel that I am splendid. And since I have been here, I keep walking about and thinking, thinking and feeling that my soul is getting stronger every day. Now I know, I understand, Kostya, that in our work—in acting or writing—what matters is not fame, not glory, not what I dreamed of, but knowing how to be patient. To bear one’s cross and have faith. I have faith and it all doesn’t hurt so much, and when I think of my vocation I am not afraid of life.
Treplev
Mournfully. You have found your path, you know which way you are going, but I am still floating in a chaos of dreams and images, not knowing what use it is to anyone. I have no faith and don’t know what my vocation is.
Nina
Listening. ’Sh‑sh … I am going. Goodbye. When I become a great actress, come and look at me. Will you promise? But now … Presses his hand it’s late. I can hardly stand on my feet. … I am worn out and hungry. …
Treplev
Stay, I’ll give you some supper.
Nina
No, no. … Don’t see me off, I will go by myself. My horses are close by. … So she brought him with her? Well, it doesn’t matter. When you see Trigorin, don’t say anything to him. … I love him! I love him even more than before. … A subject for a short story … I love him, I love him passionately, I love him to despair. It was nice in old days, Kostya! Do you remember? How clear, warm, joyous and pure life was, what feelings we had—feelings like tender, exquisite flowers. … Do you remember? Recites. “Men, lions, eagles, and partridges, horned deer, geese, spiders, silent fish that dwell in the water, starfishes, and creatures which cannot be seen by the eye—all living things, all living things, all living things, have completed their cycle of sorrow, are extinct. … For thousands of years the earth has borne no living creature on its surface, and this poor moon lights its lamp in vain. On the meadow the cranes no longer waken with a cry and there is no sound of the May beetles in the lime trees …” Impulsively embraces Treplev and runs out of the glass door.
Treplev
After a pause. It will be a pity if someone meets her in the garden and tells mother. It may upset mother. …
He spends two minutes in tearing up all his manuscripts and throwing them under the table; then unlocks the door on right and goes out.
Dorn
Trying to open the door on left. Strange. The door seems to be locked … comes in and puts the armchair in its place. An obstacle race.
Enter Madame Arkadin and Polina Andreyevna, behind them Yakov carrying a tray with bottles; Masha; then Shamraev and Trigorin.
Madame Arkadin
Put the claret and the beer for Boris Alexeyevitch here on the table. We will play as we drink it. Let us sit down, friends.
Polina
To Yakov. Bring tea too at the same time lights the candles and sits down to the card table.
Shamraev
Leads Trigorin to the cupboard. Here’s the thing I was speaking about just now takes the stuffed seagull from the cupboard. This is what you ordered.
Trigorin
Looking at the seagull. I don’t remember it. Musing. I don’t remember.
The sound of a shot coming from right of stage; everyone starts.
Madame Arkadin
Frightened. What’s that?
Dorn
That’s nothing. It must be something in my medicine-chest that has gone off. Don’t be anxious goes out at door on right, comes back in half a minute. That’s what it is. A bottle of ether has exploded. Hums. “I stand before thee enchanted again. …”
Madame Arkadin
Sitting down to the table. Ough, how frightened I was. It reminded me of how … hides her face in her hands. It made me quite dizzy. …
Dorn
Turning over the leaves of the magazine, to Trigorin. There was an article in this two months ago—a letter from America—and I wanted to ask you, among other things puts his arm round Trigorin’s waist and leads him to the footlights as I am very much interested in the question. … In a lower tone, dropping his voice. Get Irina Nikolayevna away somehow. The fact is, Konstantin Gavrilitch has shot himself. …
Curtain.
Colophon
The Seagull
was published in by
Anton Chekhov.
It was translated from Russian in by
Constance Garnett.
This ebook was transcribed and produced in for
Standard Ebooks
by
Devin O’Bannon,
and is based on digital scans from
various sources.
The cover page is adapted from
The Wounded Seagull,
a painting completed in by
Jules Breton.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in and by
The League of Moveable Type.
The first edition of this ebook was released on
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