SONIA. (Reproachfully) Uncle!

VOITSKI. All right. I beg your pardon. (He points to HELENA) Look at her. Wandering up and down from sheer idleness. A sweet picture, really.

HELENA. I wonder you are not bored, droning on in the same key from morning till night. (Despairingly) I am dying of this tedium. What shall I do?

SONIA. (Shrugging her shoulders) There is plenty to do if you would.

HELENA. For instance?

SONIA. You could help run this place, teach the children, care for the sick—isn't that enough? Before you and papa came, Uncle Vanya and I used to go to market ourselves to deal in flour.

HELENA. I don't know anything about such things, and besides, they don't interest me. It is only in novels that women go out and teach and heal the peasants; how can I suddenly begin to do it?

SONIA. How can you live here and not do it? Wait awhile, you will get used to it all. (Embraces her) Don't be sad, dearest. (Laughing) You feel miserable and restless, and can't seem to fit into this life, and your restlessness is catching. Look at Uncle Vanya, he does nothing now but haunt you like a shadow, and I have left my work to-day to come here and talk with you. I am getting lazy, and don't want to go on with it. Dr. Astroff hardly ever used to come here; it was all we could do to persuade him to visit us once a month, and now he has abandoned his forestry and his practice, and comes every day. You must be a witch.

VOITSKI. Why should you languish here? Come, my dearest, my beauty, be sensible! The blood of a Nixey runs in your veins. Oh, won't you let yourself be one? Give your nature the reins for once in your life; fall head over ears in love with some other water sprite and plunge down head first into a deep pool, so that the Herr Professor and all of us may have our hands free again.

HELENA. (Angrily) Leave me alone! How cruel you are! (She tries to go out.)

VOITSKI. (Preventing her) There, there, my beauty, I apologise. (He kisses her hand) Forgive me.

HELENA. Confess that you would try the patience of an angel.

VOITSKI. As a peace offering I am going to fetch some flowers which I picked for you this morning: some autumn roses, beautiful, sorrowful roses. (He goes out.)

SONIA. Autumn roses, beautiful, sorrowful roses!

(She and HELENA stand looking out of the window.)

HELENA. September already! How shall we live through the long winter here? (A pause) Where is the doctor?

SONIA. He is writing in Uncle Vanya's room. I am glad Uncle Vanya has gone out, I want to talk to you about something.

HELENA. About what?

SONIA. About what?

(She lays her head on HELENA'S breast.)

HELENA. (Stroking her hair) There, there, that will do. Don't, Sonia.

SONIA. I am ugly!

HELENA. You have lovely hair.