Page:Plays by Anton Tchekoff (1916).djvu/207

ACT III

. What, the love of a country girl? Oh, how little you know yourself!

. People sometimes walk in their sleep, and so I feel as if I were asleep, and dreaming of her as I stand here talking to you. My imagination is shaken by the sweetest and most glorious visions. Release me!

. [Shuddering] No, no! I am only an ordinary woman; you must not say such things to me. Do not torment me, Boris; you frighten me.

. You could be an extraordinary woman if you only would. Love alone can bring happiness on earth, love the enchanting, the poetical love of youth, that sweeps away the sorrows of the world. I had no time for it when I was young and struggling with want and laying siege to the literary fortress, but now at last this love has come to me. I see it beckoning; why should I fly?

. [With anger] You are mad!

. Release me.

. You have all conspired together to torture me to-day.

. [Clutching his head desperately] She doesn’t understand me! She won’t understand me!

. Am I then so old and ugly already that you can talk to me like this without any shame about another woman? [She embraces and kisses him] Oh, you have lost your senses! My splendid, my glorious friend, my love for you is the last chapter of my life. [She falls on her knees] You are my pride, my joy, my light. [She embraces his knees] I could never endure it should you desert me, if only for an hour; I should go mad. Oh, my wonder, my marvel, my king!

. Some one might come in.

. Let them come! I am not ashamed of my love. [She kisses his hands] My jewel! My despair! You want