this without any shame about another woman? [She embraces and kisses
him] Oh, you have lost your senses! My splendid, my glorious friend, my
love for you is the last chapter of my life. [She falls on her knees]
You are my pride, my joy, my light. [She embraces his knees] I could
never endure it should you desert me, if only for an hour; I should go
mad. Oh, my wonder, my marvel, my king!

TRIGORIN. Some one might come in. [He helps her to rise.]

ARKADINA. Let them come! I am not ashamed of my love. [She kisses his
hands] My jewel! My despair! You want to do a foolish thing, but I don't
want you to do it. I shan't let you do it! [She laughs] You are mine,
you are mine! This forehead is mine, these eyes are mine, this silky
hair is mine. All your being is mine. You are so clever, so wise, the
first of all living writers; you are the only hope of your country. You
are so fresh, so simple, so deeply humourous. You can bring out every
feature of a man or of a landscape in a single line, and your characters
live and breathe. Do you think that these words are but the incense of
flattery? Do you think I am not speaking the truth? Come, look into my
eyes; look deep; do you find lies there? No, you see that I alone know
how to treasure you. I alone tell you the truth. Oh, my very dear, you
will go with me? You will? You will not forsake me?

TRIGORIN. I have no will of my own; I never had. I am too indolent, too
submissive, too phlegmatic, to have any. Is it possible that women like
that? Take me. Take me away with you, but do not let me stir a step from
your side.

ARKADINA. [To herself] Now he is mine! [Carelessly, as if nothing
unusual had happened] Of course you must stay here if you really want