Whoever proposed to me I'd marry him, if only he were a good man. . . . I'd even marry an old man. . . .
IRINA. I kept expecting we should move to Moscow and there I should meet my true love. I've been dreaming of him, loving him. . . . But it seems that was all nonsense, nonsense. . . .
OLGA [puts her arms round her sister]. My darling, lovely sister, I understand it all; when the baron left the army and came to us in a plain coat, I thought he looked so ugly that it positively made me cry. . . . He asked me, 'Why are you crying?' How could I tell him! But if God brought you together I should be happy. That's a different thing, you know, quite different.
[NATASHA with a candle in her hand walks across the stage from door on right to door on left without speaking.]
MASHA [sits up]. She walks about as though it were she who set fire to the town.
OLGA. Masha, you're silly. The very silliest of the family, that's you. Please forgive me [a pause].
MASHA. I want to confess my sins, dear sisters. My soul is yearning. I'm going to confess to you and never again to anyone. . . . I'll tell you this minute [softly]. It's my secret, but you must know everything. . . . I can't be silent . . . [a pause]. I'm in love, I'm in love, . . . I love that man. . . . You have just seen him. . . . Well, I may as well say it straight out. I love Vershinin.
OLGA [going behind her screen]. Stop it. I'm not listening anyway.
MASHA. But what am I to do? [Clutches her head.] At first I thought him strange . . . then I was sorry for him . . . then I came to love him . . . to love him with his voice, his words, his misfortunes, his two little girls. . . .
OLGA [behind the screen]. I'm not listening anyway. Whatever silly things you say I won't hear them.
MASHA. Oh, Olya. you are silly. I love him -- so that's my fate. It means that that's my lot, . . . And he loves me. . . . It's all terrifying. Yes? Is it wrong? [Takes IRINA by the hand and draws her to herself] Oh, my darling, . . . How are we going to live our lives, what will become of us? . . . When you read a novel it all seems trite and obvious, but when you're in love yourself you see that no one knows anything and we all have to settle things for ourselves, . . . My darlings, my sisters. . . . I've confessed it to you, now I'll hold my tongue. . . . I'll be like Gogol's madman . . . silence . . . silence. . . .
[Enter ANDREY and after him FERAPONT.]
ANDREY [angrily]. What do you want? I can't make it out.
FERAPONT [in the doorway, impatiently]. I've told you ten times already, Andrey Sergeyevitch.
ANDREY. In the first place I'm not Andrey Sergeyevitch, but your honour, to you!
FERAPONT. The firemen ask permission, your honour, to go through the garden on their way to the river. Or else they have to go round and round, an awful nuisance for them.
ANDREY. All right. Tell them, all right. [FERAPONT goes out.] I'm sick of them. Where's Olga? [OLGA comes from behind the screen.] I've come to ask you for the key of the cupboard, I have lost mine. You've got one, it's a little key.
[OLGA gives him the key in silence; IRINA goes behind her screen; a pause.]
