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A country house on a terrace. In front of it a garden. In an avenue of trees, under an old poplar, stands a table set for tea, with a samovar, etc. Some benches and chairs stand near the table. On one of them is lying a guitar. Near the table is a swing. It is three o'clock in the afternoon of a cloudy day.

MARINA, a stout, slow old woman, is sitting at the table knitting a stocking.

ASTROV is walking up and down near her.

MARINA. [Pouring some tea into a glass] Take a little tea, my son.

ASTROV. [Takes the glass from her unwillingly] Somehow, I don't seem to want any.

MARINA. Then will you have a little vodka instead?

ASTROV. No, I don't drink vodka every day, and besides, it's too hot now. [A pause] Tell me, Nanny, how long have we known each other?

MARINA. [Thoughtfully] Let me see, how long is it? Lord -- help me to remember. You first came here, into these parts -- let me think -- when was it? Sonya's mother was still alive -- it was two winters before she died; that was eleven years ago -- [thoughtfully] perhaps more.

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