thinking him a man of genius.

ARKADINA. You enjoy saying unpleasant things to me. I have the greatest
respect for that man, and I must ask you not to speak ill of him in my
presence.

TREPLIEFF. I have no respect for him at all. You want me to think him a
genius, as you do, but I refuse to lie: his books make me sick.

ARKADINA. You envy him. There is nothing left for people with no talent
and mighty pretensions to do but to criticise those who are really
gifted. I hope you enjoy the consolation it brings.

TREPLIEFF. [With irony] Those who are really gifted, indeed! [Angrily] I
am cleverer than any of you, if it comes to that! [He tears the bandage
off his head] You are the slaves of convention, you have seized the
upper hand and now lay down as law everything that you do; all else you
strangle and trample on. I refuse to accept your point of view, yours
and his, I refuse!

ARKADINA. That is the talk of a decadent.

TREPLIEFF. Go back to your beloved stage and act the miserable
ditch-water plays you so much admire!

ARKADINA. I never acted in a play like that in my life. You couldn't
write even the trashiest music-hall farce, you idle good-for-nothing!

TREPLIEFF. Miser!