MASHA. If I am cross, then don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me!
CHEBUTIKIN. Don’t touch her, don’t touch her....
MASHA. You’re sixty, but you’re like a boy, always up to some beastly nonsense.
NATASHA. [Sighs] Dear Masha, why use such expressions? With your beautiful exterior you would be simply fascinating in good society, I tell you so directly, if it wasn’t for your words. Je vous prie, pardonnez moi, Marie, mais vous avez des manières un peu grossières.
TUZENBACH. [Restraining his laughter] Give me... give me... there’s some cognac, I think.
NATASHA. Il parait, que mon Bobick déjà ne dort pas, he has awakened. He isn’t well to-day. I’ll go to him, excuse me... [Exit.]
IRINA. Where has Alexander Ignateyevitch gone?
MASHA. Home. Something extraordinary has happened to his wife again.
TUZENBACH. [Goes to SOLENI with a cognac-flask in his hands] You go on sitting by yourself, thinking of something—goodness knows what. Come and let’s make peace. Let’s have some cognac. [They drink] I expect I’ll have to play the piano all night, some rubbish most likely... well, so be it!
SOLENI. Why make peace? I haven’t quarrelled with you.