MARYA. I love them so.
KHLESTAKOV. I have lots of them—of every sort. If you like, for example, I'll give you this: "Oh, thou, mortal man, who in thy anguish murmurest against God—" and others. I can't remember them now. Besides, it's all bosh. I'd rather offer you my love instead, which ever since your first glance—[Moves his chair nearer.]
MARYA. Love? I don't understand love. I never knew what love is. [Moves her chair away.]
KHLESTAKOV. Why do you move your chair away? It is better for us to sit near each other.
MARYA [moving away]. Why near? It's all the same if it's far away.
KHLESTAKOV [moving nearer]. Why far? It's all the same if it's near.
MARYA [moving away]. But what for?
KHLESTAKOV [moving nearer]. It only seems near to you. Imagine it's far. How happy I would be, mademoiselle, if I could clasp you in my embrace.
MARYA [looking through the window]. What is that? It looked as if something had flown by. Was it a magpie or some other bird?
KHLESTAKOV [kisses her shoulder and looks through the window]. It's a magpie.