can't stay here.
SOLYONY. How is it the baron can be here and I can't?
VERSHININ. We must be going, really. How's the fire?
SOLYONY. They say it's dying down. No, I really can't understand why the baron may be here and not me [takes out a bottle of scent and sprinkles himself].
VERSHININ. Tram-tam-tam!
MASHA. Tram-tam!
VERSHININ [laughs, to SOLYONY]. Let's go into the dining-room.
SOLYONY. Very well; we'll make a note of it. I might explain my meaning further, but fear I may provoke the geese . . . [looking at TUZENBAKH]. Chook, chook, chook! . . . [Goes out with VERSHININ and FEDOTIK.]
IRINA. How that horrid Solyony has made the room smell of tobacco! . . . [Bewildered] The baron is asleep! Baron, Baron!
TUZENBAKH [waking up]. I'm tired, though. . . . The brick-yard. I'm not talking in my sleep. I really am going to the brick factory directly, to begin work. . . . It's nearly settled. [To IRINA, tenderly] You're so pale and lovely and fascinating. . . . It seems to me as though your paleness sheds a light through the dark air. . . . You're melancholy; you're dissatisfied with life. . . . . . Ah, come with me; let's go and work together!
MASHA. Nikolay Lvovitch, go away!
TUZENBAKH [laughing]. Are you here? I didn't see you . . . [kisses IRINA'S hand]. Good-bye, I'm going. . . . I look at you now, and I remember as though it were long ago how on your name-day you talked of the joy of work, and were so cheerful and confident. . . . And what a happy life I was dreaming of then! What has become of it? [Kisses her hand.] There're tears in your eyes . Go to bed, it's getting light . . . it's nearly morning. . . . . . . . . If only I could give my life for you!
MASHA. Nikolay Lvovitch, do go! Really, this is too much. . . .
TUZENBAKH. I'm going [goes out].
MASHA [lying down]. Are you asleep, Fyodor?
KULYGIN. Eh?
MASHA. You'd better go home.
KULYGIN. My darling Masha, my precious girl! . . .
IRINA. She's tired out. Let her rest, Fedya.
KULYGIN. I'll go at once, . . . My dear, charming wife! . . . I love you, my only one! . . .
MASHA [angrily]. Amo, amas, amat; amamus, amatis, amant.
KULYGIN [laughs]. Yes, really she's wonderful. You've been my wife for seven years, and it seems to me as though we were only married yesterday. Honour bright! Yes, really you are a wonderful woman! I'm content, I'm content, I'm content!
MASHA. I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored! . . . [Gets up and speaks, sitting down] And there's something I can't get out of my head. . . . It's simply revolting. It sticks in my head like a nail; I must speak of it. I mean about Andrey, . . . He has mortgaged this house to the bank and his wife has grabbed all the money, and you know the house doesn't belong to him
