brother, there were only two respectable, intelligent men in this
county, you and I. Ten years or so of this life of ours, this
miserable life, have sucked us under, and we have become as
contemptible and petty as the rest. But don't try to talk me out
of my purpose! Give me what you took from me, will you?

VOITSKI. I took nothing from you.

ASTROFF. You took a little bottle of morphine out of my
medicine-case. [A pause] Listen! If you are positively determined
to make an end to yourself, go into the woods and shoot yourself
there. Give up the morphine, or there will be a lot of talk and
guesswork; people will think I gave it to you. I don't fancy
having to perform a post-mortem on you. Do you think I should
find it interesting?

SONIA comes in.

VOITSKI. Leave me alone.

ASTROFF. [To SONIA] Sonia, your uncle has stolen a bottle of
morphine out of my medicine-case and won't give it up. Tell him
that his behaviour is--well, unwise. I haven't time, I must be
going.

SONIA. Uncle Vanya, did you take the morphine?

ASTROFF. Yes, he took it. [A pause] I am absolutely sure.

SONIA. Give it up! Why do you want to frighten us? [Tenderly]