ught to.

DORN. The idea of doing anything for one's health at sixty-five!

SORIN. One still wants to live at sixty-five.

DORN. [Crossly] Ho! Take some camomile tea.

ARKADINA. I think a journey to some watering-place would be good for
him.

DORN. Why, yes; he might go as well as not.

ARKADINA. You don't understand.

DORN. There is nothing to understand in this case; it is quite clear.

MEDVIEDENKO. He ought to give up smoking.

SORIN. What nonsense! [A pause.]

DORN. No, that is not nonsense. Wine and tobacco destroy the
individuality. After a cigar or a glass of vodka you are no longer Peter
Sorin, but Peter Sorin plus somebody else. Your ego breaks in two: you
begin to think of yourself in the third person.

SORIN. It is easy for you to condemn smoking and drinking; you have
known what life is, but what about me? I have served in the Department
of Justice for twenty-eight years, but I have never lived, I have never
had any experiences. You are satiated with life, and that is why you
have an inclination for philosophy, but I want to live, and that is why
I drink my wine for dinner and smoke cigars, and all.

DORN. One must take life seriously, and to take a cure at sixty-five
and regret that one did not have more pleasure in youth is, forgive my
saying so, trifling.

MASHA. It must be lunch-time. [She walks away languidly, with a dragging
step] My foot has gone to sleep.

DORN. She is going to have a couple of drinks before lunch.

SORIN. The poor soul is unhappy.

DORN. That is a trifle, your honour.

SORIN. You judge her like a man who has obtained all he wants in life.

ARKADINA. Oh, what could be duller than this dear tedium of the country?
The air is hot and still, nobody does anything but sit and philosophise
about life. It is pleasant, my friends, to sit and listen to you here,
but I had rather a thousand times sit alone in the room of a hotel
learning a role by heart.

NINA. [With enthusiasm] You are quite right. I understand how you feel.

SORIN. Of course it is pleasanter to live in town. One can sit in one's
library with a telephone at one's elbow, no one comes in without being
first announced by the footman, the streets are full of cabs, and all---

DORN. [Sings]

"Tell her, oh flowers---"

SHAMRAEFF comes in, followed by PAULINA.

SHAMRAEFF. Here they are. How do you do? [He kisses ARKADINA'S hand and
then NINA'S] I am delighted to see you looking so well. [To ARKADINA] My