THE SEAGULL
A monologue from the
play by Anton
Chekhov
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from Two Plays of Tchekhof. Trans. George Calderon. London:
Grant Richards Ltd., 1912. |
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NINA: Men and lions, eagles and partridges, antlered
deer, geese, spiders, the silent fishes dwelling in the water,
star-fish and tiny creatures invisible to the eye--these and
every form of life, ay, every form of life, have ended their
melancholy round and become extinct. . . . Thousands of centuries
have passed since this earth bore any living being on its bosom.
All in vain does yon pale moon light her lamp. No longer do the
cranes wake and cry in the meadows; the hum of the cockchafers
is silent in the linden groves. All is cold, cold, cold. Empty,
empty, empty. Terrible, terrible, terrible. [A pause]
The bodies of living beings have vanished into dust; the Eternal
Matter has converted them into stones, into water, into clouds;
and all their spirits are merged in one. I am that spirit, the
universal spirit of the world. In me is the spirit of Alexander
the Great, of Caesar, of Shakespeare, of Napoleon, and the meanest
of the leeches. In me the consciousness of men is merged with
the instinct of animals; I remember everything, everything, everything,
and in myself relive each individual life. I am alone. Once in
a hundred years I open my lips to speak, and my voice echoes
sadly in this emptiness and no one hears. . . . You too, pale
fires, you hear me not. . . . The corruption of the marsh engenders
you towards morning, and you wander till the dawn, but without
thought, without will, without throb of life. Fearing lest life
should arise in you, the father of Eternal Matter, the Devil,
effects in you, as in stones and water, a perpetual mutation
of atoms; you change unceasingly. In all the universe spirit
alone remains constant and unchanging. [A pause] Like
a captive flung into a deep empty well, I know not where I am
nor what awaits me. One thing only is revealed to me, that in
the cruel and stubborn struggle with the Devil, the principle
of material forces, it is fated that I shall be victorious; and
thereafter, spirit and matter are to merge together in exquisite
harmony and the reign of Universal Will is to begin. But that
cannot be till, little by little, after a long, long series of
centuries, the moon, the shining dog-star and the earth are turned
to dust. . . . Till then there shall be horror and desolation.
. . . Behold, my mighty antagonist, the Devil, approaches. I
see his awful, blood-red eyes . . .
MORE
MONOLOGUES BY ANTON CHEKHOV |
