AFÓNYA. No, it is clear. The twilight is so brilliant. We'll have fine weather.
ARKHÍP. That's it, that's it. I feel it myself. The air is so light and the breeze so fresh that I do not want to leave. Beautiful, Afónya, beautiful is God's world. Now the dew will fall and fragrance will rise from every flower; and yonder the stars will come out; and above the stars, Afónya, is our merciful Creator. If we remembered more constantly that He is merciful, we ourselves should be more merciful.
AFÓNYA. I will try to subdue my heart, grandfather. [BABÁYEV comes in] Let us go. Some strange gentleman is walking here; he would probably laugh at our talk.
ARKHÍP. [Following AFÓNYA] My soul magnifies God. They go out.
SCENE II
BABÁYEV alone
BABÁYEV. When you are waiting for something pleasant the time seems to drag! I purposely came by the longest road so as not to arrive too early, but nevertheless I got here before they did. How I hate to wait! What a foolish situation! Women generally like to torment: it's their nature; they like to have someone wait for them. Of course, that doesn't apply to Tánya; I believe she's very, very glad that I have arrived. I speak of women of our own sort. I think they torment, because—how shall I express it—the idea is entirely original—in order to compensate themselves in advance for the rights which they lose later. That's the result of being in a lovely landscape face to face with nature! What brilliant thoughts come to one! If this thought were developed at leisure, in the country, it might form a small novel, even a comedy on the order of Alfred de Musset. But such things are not played in our country. They must be presented delicately, very delicately—here the principal thing is the—bouquet. I think some one is coming. Is it they? How shall we meet? Two years of separation mean much.
TATYÁNA and LUKÉRYA come in.
SCENE III
BABÁYEV, TATYÁNA, and LUKÉRYA