ther vodka or brandy. [They touch glasses] To your good
health! You are so easy to get on with that I am sorry to see you go.
[They drink.]

TRIGORIN. And I am sorry to leave.

MASHA. You should ask her to stay.

TRIGORIN. She would not do that now. Her son has been behaving
outrageously. First he attempted suicide, and now I hear he is going
to challenge me to a duel, though what his provocation may be I can't
imagine. He is always sulking and sneering and preaching about a new
form of art, as if the field of art were not large enough to accommodate
both old and new without the necessity of jostling.

MASHA. It is jealousy. However, that is none of my business. [A pause.
JACOB walks through the room carrying a trunk; NINA comes in and stands
by the window] That schoolteacher of mine is none too clever, but he
is very good, poor man, and he loves me dearly, and I am sorry for him.
However, let me say good-bye and wish you a pleasant journey. Remember
me kindly in your thoughts. [She shakes hands with him] Thanks for your
goodwill. Send me your books, and be sure to write something in them;
nothing formal, but simply this: "To Masha, who, forgetful of her
origin, for some unknown reason is living in this world." Good-bye. [She
goes out.]

NINA. [Holding out her closed hand to TRIGORIN] Is it odd or even?

TRIGORIN. Even.

NINA. [With a sigh] No, it is odd. I had only one pea in my hand. I
wanted to see whether I was to become an actress or not. If only some
one would advise me what to do!

TRIGORIN. One cannot give advice in a case like this. [A pause.]

NINA. We shall soon part, perhaps never to meet again. I should like you
to accept this little medallion as a remembrance of me. I have had your
initials engraved on it, and on this side is the name of one of your
books: "Days and Nights."

TRIGORIN. How sweet of you! [He kisses the medallion] It is a lovely
present.

NINA. Think of me sometimes.

TRIGORIN. I shall never forget you. I shall always remember you as I saw
you that bright day--do you recall it?--a week ago, when you wore your
light dress, and we talked together, and the white seagull lay on the
bench beside us.

NINA. [Lost in thought] Yes, the sea-gull. [A pause] I beg you to let me
see you alone for two minutes before you go.

She goes out to the left. At the same moment ARKADINA comes in from the
right, followed by SORIN in a long coat, with his orders on his breast,
and by JACOB, who i