SONYA. [Reproachfully] Uncle!
VOYNITSKY. All right. I beg your pardon. [He points to HELENA] Look at her. Wandering around and ready to fall over from sheer idleness. A sweet picture, really.
HELENA. I wonder you're not tired, droning on in the same key from morning till night. [Despairingly] I'm dying of this boredom. What'll I do?
SONYA. [Shrugging her shoulders] There's plenty to do if you would.
HELENA. For instance?
SONYA. You could help run this place, teach the children, care for the sick -- isn't that enough? Before you and papa came, Uncle Vanya and I used to go to market ourselves to sell our own flour.
HELENA. I don't know anything about such things, and besides, they don't interest me. It's only in idealistic novels that women go out and teach and heal the peasants; how can I suddenly begin to do it?
SONYA. How can you live here and not do it? Wait awhile, you'll get used to it all. [Embraces her] Don't be bored, dearest. [Laughing] You feel miserable and restless, and can't seem to fit into this life, and your restlessness is infectious. Look at Uncle Vanya, he does nothing now but follow you like a shadow, and I have left my work today to come here and talk with you. I'm getting lazy, and don't want to go on with anything. Dr. Astrov hardly ever used to come here; it was all we could do to persuade him to visit us once a month, and now he's abandoned his forestry and his practice, and comes every day. You must be a witch.
VOYNITSKY. Why are you so down? [Vigorously] Come, my dearest, my beauty, be sensible! The blood of a mermaid runs in your veins. Oh, won't you let yourself be one? Give free rein to your nature for once in your life; fall head over heels in love with some other water sprite and plunge down head first into a deep pool, so that the Herr Professor and all of us just throw up our hands.
HELENA. [Angrily] Leave me alone! How cruel you are! [She tries to go out.]
VOYNITSKY. [Preventing her] There, there, my beauty, I apologise. [He kisses her hand] Forgive me.
HELENA. Confess it -- you'd try the patience of an angel.
VOYNITSKY. As a peace offering I'm going to fetch a bouquet of flowers which I picked for you this morning: some autumn roses, beautiful, sorrowful roses. [He goes out.]
SONYA. Autumn roses, beautiful, sorrowful roses!
[She and HELENA stand looking out of the window.]
HELENA. September already! How shall we live through the long winter here? [A pause] Where's the doctor?
SONYA. He's writing in Uncle Vanya's room. I'm glad Uncle Vanya has gone out, I want to talk to you about something.
HELENA. About what?
SONYA. About what? [She lays her head on HELENA'S breast.]
HELENA. There, there, that will do. [Stroking her hair] Don't, Sonya.
SONYA. I'm ugly!
HELENA. You have lovely hair.
SONYA. No! [She turns to look at herself in the mirror] No, when a woman is ugly they always say she has beautiful hair or eyes. I've loved him now for six years, I've loved him more
