This play in three acts is Nabokov’s version of Lolita’s screenplay and not the one used for producing the 1962 movie directed by Stanley Kubrick.

While the blood still throbs through my writing hand, you are still as much part of blest matter as I am. I can still talk to you and make you live in the minds of later generations. I’m thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.