elf in a
little mirror and powders herself.]

EPIKHODOV. For the enamoured madman, this is a mandoline. [Sings]

"Oh that the heart was warmed,
By all the flames of love returned!"

[YASHA sings too.]

CHARLOTTA. These people sing terribly.... Foo! Like jackals.

DUNYASHA. [To YASHA] Still, it must be nice to live abroad.

YASHA. Yes, certainly. I cannot differ from you there. [Yawns and lights
a cigar.]

EPIKHODOV. That is perfectly natural. Abroad everything is in full
complexity.

YASHA. That goes without saying.

EPIKHODOV. I'm an educated man, I read various remarkable books, but I
cannot understand the direction I myself want to go--whether to live
or to shoot myself, as it were. So, in case, I always carry a revolver
about with me. Here it is. [Shows a revolver.]

CHARLOTTA. I've done. Now I'll go. [Slings the rifle] You, Epikhodov,
are a very clever man and very terrible; women must be madly in love
with you. Brrr! [Going] These wise ones are all so stupid. I've nobody
to talk to. I'm always alone, alone; I've nobody at all... and I don't
know who I am or why I live. [Exit slowly.]

EPIKHODOV. As a matter of fact, independently of everything else, I must
express my feeling, among other things, that fate has been as pitiless
in her dealings with me as a storm is to a small ship. Suppose, let
us grant, I am wrong; then why did I wake up this morning, to give an
example, and behold an enormous spider on my chest, like that. [Shows
with both hands] And if I do drink some kvass, why is it that there is
bound to be something of the most indelicate nature in it, such as a
beetle? [Pause] Have you read Buckle? [Pause] I should like to trouble
you, Avdotya Fedorovna, for two words.

DUNYASHA. Say on.

EPIKHODOV. I should prefer to be alone with you. [Sighs.]

DUNYASHA. [Shy] Very well, only first bring me my little cloak.... It's
by the cupboard. It's a little damp here.

EPIKHODOV. Very well... I'll bring it.... Now I know what to do with my
revolver. [Takes guitar and exits, strumming.]

YASHA. Two-and-twenty troubles! A silly man, between you and me and the
gatepost. [Yawns.]

DUNYASHA. I hope to goodness he won't shoot himself. [Pause] I'm so
nervous, I'm worried. I went into service when I was quite a little
girl, and now I'm not used to common life, and my hands are white, white
as a lady's. I'm so tender and so delicate now; respectable and afraid
of everything.... I'm so frightened. A