The Cherry Orchard

Name: The Cherry Orchard
Author: Anton Chekhov

Anton Chekhov, translated by Constance Garnett

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Characters in the Play

Madame Ranevsky (Lyubov Andreyevna) (the owner of the Cherry Orchard)
Anya (her daughter, aged 17)
Varya (her adopted daughter, aged 24)
Gaev (Leonid Andreyevitch) (brother of Madame Ranevsky)
Lopahin (Yermolay Alexeyevitch) (a Merchant)
Trofimov (Pyotr Sergeyevitch) (a Student)
Semyonov-Pishtchik (a Landowner)
Charlotta Ivanovna (a Governess)
Epihodov (Semyon Pantaleyevitch) (a Clerk)
Dunyasha (a Maid)
Firs (an old Valet, aged 87)
Yasha (a young Valet)
A Vagrant
The Station Master
A Post-Office Clerk
Visitors, Servants

The action takes place on the estate of Madame Ranevsky.

Act I

A room, which has always been called the nursery. One of the doors leads into Anya’s room. Dawn, sun rises during the scene. May, the cherry trees in flower, but it is cold in the garden with the frost of early morning. Windows closed.

	Enter Dunyasha* with a candle and Lopahin with a book in his hand.*
Lopahin	The train’s in, thank God. What time is it?
Dunyasha	Nearly two o’clock puts out the candle. It’s daylight already.
Lopahin	The train’s late! Two hours, at least yawns and stretches. I’m a pretty one; what a fool I’ve been. Came here on purpose to meet them at the station and dropped asleep. … Dozed off as I sat in the chair. It’s annoying. … You might have waked me.
Dunyasha	I thought you had gone listens. There, I do believe they’re coming!
Lopahin	Listens. No, what with the luggage and one thing and another a pause. Lyubov Andreyevna has been abroad five years; I don’t know what she is like now. … She’s a splendid woman. A good-natured, kindhearted woman. I remember when I was a lad of fifteen, my poor father—he used to keep a little shop here in the village in those days—gave me a punch in the face with his fist and made my nose bleed. We were in the yard here, I forget what we’d come about—he had had a drop. Lyubov Andreyevna—I can see her now—she was a slim young girl then—took me to wash my face, and then brought me into this very room, into the nursery. “Don’t cry, little peasant,” says she, “it will be well in time for your wedding day” … a pause. Little peasant. … My father was a peasant, it’s true, but here am I in a white waistcoat and brown shoes, like a pig in a bun shop. Yes, I’m a rich man, but for all my money, come to think, a peasant I was, and a peasant I am turns over the pages of the book. I’ve been reading this book and I can’t make head or tail of it. I fell asleep over it a pause.
Dunyasha	The dogs have been awake all night, they feel that the mistress is coming.
Lopahin	Why, what’s the matter with you, Dunyasha?
Dunyasha	My hands are all of a tremble. I feel as though I should faint.
Lopahin	You’re a spoilt soft creature, Dunyasha. And dressed like a lady too, and your hair done up. That’s not the thing. One must know one’s place.
	Enter Epihodov* with a nosegay; he wears a pea-jacket and highly polished creaking top-boots; he drops the nosegay as he comes in.*
Epihodov	Picking up the nosegay. Here! the gardener’s sent this, says you’re to put it in the dining-room gives Dunyasha* the nosegay*.
Lopahin	And bring me some kvass.
Dunyasha	I will goes out.
Epihodov	It’s chilly this morning, three degrees of frost, though the cherries are all in flower. I can’t say much for our climate sighs. I can’t. Our climate is not often propitious to the occasion. Yermolay Alexeyevitch, permit me to call your attention to the fact that I purchased myself a pair of boots the day before yesterday, and they creak, I venture to assure you, so that there’s no tolerating them. What ought I to grease them with?
Lopahin	Oh, shut up! Don’t bother me.
Epihodov	Every day some misfortune befalls me. I don’t complain, I’m used to it, and I wear a smiling face.
	Dunyasha comes in, hands Lopahin the kvass.
Epihodov	I am going stumbles against a chair, which falls over. There! As though triumphant. There you see now, excuse the expression, an accident like that among others. … It’s positively remarkable goes out.
Dunyasha	Do you know, Yermolay Alexeyevitch, I must confess, Epihodov has made me a proposal.
Lopahin	Ah!
Dunyasha	I’m sure I don’t know. … He’s a harmless fellow, but sometimes when he begins talking, there’s no making anything of it. It’s all very fine and expressive, only there’s no understanding it. I’ve a sort of liking for him too. He loves me to distraction. He’s an unfortunate man; every day there’s something. They tease him about it—two and twenty misfortunes they call him.
Lopahin	Listening. There! I do believe they’re coming.
Dunyasha	They are coming! What’s the matter with me? … I’m cold all over.
Lopahin	They really are coming. Let’s go and meet them. Will she know me? It’s five years since I saw her.
Dunyasha	In a flutter. I shall drop this very minute. … Ah, I shall drop.
	There is a sound of two carriages driving up to the house. Lopahin and Dunyasha go out quickly. The stage is left empty. A noise is heard in the adjoining rooms. Firs, who has driven to meet Madame Ranevsky, crosses the stage hurriedly leaning on a stick. He is wearing old-fashioned livery and a high hat. He says something to himself, but not a word can be distinguished. The noise behind the scenes goes on increasing. A voice: “Come, let’s go in here.” Enter Lyubov Andreyevna, Anya, and Charlotta Ivanonva with a pet dog on a chain, all in travelling dresses, Varya in an outdoor coat with a kerchief over her head, Gaev, Semyonov-Pishtchik, Lopahin, Dunyasha with bag and parasol, servants with other articles. All walk across the room.
Anya	Let’s come in here. Do you remember what room this is, mamma?
Lyubov	Joyfully, through her tears. The nursery!
Varya	How cold it is, my hands are numb. To Lyubov Andreyevna. Your rooms, the white room and the lavender one, are just the same as ever, mamma.
Lyubov	My nursery, dear delightful room. … I used to sleep here when I was little … cries. And here I am, like a little child … kisses her brother and Varya, and then her brother again. Varya’s just the same as ever, like a nun. And I knew Dunyasha kisses Dunyasha.
Gaev	The train was two hours late. What do you think of that? Is that the way to do things?
Charlotta	To Pishtchik. My dog eats nuts, too.
Pishtchik	Wonderingly. Fancy that!
	They all go out except Anya* and Dunyasha.*
Dunyasha	We’ve been expecting you so long takes Anya’s* hat and coat*.
Anya	I haven’t slept for four nights on the journey. I feel dreadfully cold.
Dunyasha	You set out in Lent, there was snow and frost, and now? My darling! Laughs and kisses her. I have missed you, my precious, my joy. I must tell you … I can’t put it off a minute. …
Anya	Wearily. What now?
Dunyasha	Epihodov, the clerk, made me a proposal just after Easter.
Anya	It’s always the same thing with you … straightening her hair. I’ve lost all my hairpins … she is staggering from exhaustion.
Dunyasha	I don’t know what to think, really. He does love me, he does love me so!
Anya	Looking towards her door, tenderly. My own room, my windows just as though I had never gone away. I’m home! Tomorrow morning I shall get up and run into the garden. … Oh, if I could get to sleep! I haven’t slept all the journey, I was so anxious and worried.
Dunyasha	Pyotr Sergeyevitch came the day before yesterday.
Anya	Joyfully. Petya!
Dunyasha	He’s asleep in the bath house, he has settled in there. I’m afraid of being in their way, says he. Glancing at her watch. I was to have waked him, but Varvara Mihalovna told me not to. Don’t you wake him, says she.
	Enter Varya* with a bunch of keys at her waist.*
Varya	Dunyasha, coffee and make haste. … Mamma’s asking for coffee.
Dunyasha	This very minute goes out.
Varya	Well, thank God, you’ve come. You’re home again petting her. My little darling has come back! My precious beauty has come back again!
Anya	I have had a time of it!
Varya	I can fancy!
Anya	We set off in Holy Week—it was so cold then, and all the way Charlotta would talk and show off her tricks. What did you want to burden me with Charlotta for?
Varya	You couldn’t have travelled all alone, darling. At seventeen!
Anya	We got to Paris at last, it was cold there—snow. I speak French shockingly. Mamma lives on the fifth floor, I went up to her, and there were a lot of French people, ladies, an old priest with a book. The place smelt of tobacco and so comfortless. I felt sorry, oh! so sorry for mamma all at once, I put my arms round her neck, and hugged her and wouldn’t let her go. Mamma was as kind as she could be, and she cried. …
Varya	Through her tears. Don’t speak of it, don’t speak of it!
Anya	She had sold her villa at Mentone, she had nothing left, nothing. I hadn’t a farthing left either, we only just had enough to get here. And mamma doesn’t understand! When we had dinner at the stations, she always ordered the most expensive things and gave the waiters a whole rouble. Charlotta’s just the same. Yasha too must have the same as we do; it’s simply awful. You know Yasha is mamma’s valet now, we brought him here with us.
Varya	Yes, I’ve seen the young rascal.
Anya	Well, tell me—have you paid the arrears on the mortgage?
Varya	How could we get the money?
Anya	Oh, dear! Oh, dear!
Varya	In August the place will be sold.
Anya	My goodness!
Lopahin	Peeps in at the door and moo’s like a cow. Moo! Disappears.
Varya	Weeping. There, that’s what I could do to him shakes her fist.
Anya	Embracing Varya, softly. Varya, has he made you an offer? Varya shakes her head. Why, but he loves you. Why is it you don’t come to an understanding? What are you waiting for?
Varya	I believe that there never will be anything between us. He has a lot to do, he has no time for me … and takes no notice of me. Bless the man, it makes me miserable to see him. … Everyone’s talking of our being married, everyone’s congratulating me, and all the while there’s really nothing in it; it’s all like a dream. In another tone. You have a new brooch like a bee.
Anya	Mournfully. Mamma bought it. Goes into her own room and in a lighthearted childish tone. And you know, in Paris I went up in a balloon!
Varya	My darling’s home again! My pretty is home again!
	Dunyasha returns with the coffeepot and is making the coffee.
Varya	Standing at the door. All day long, darling, as I go about looking after the house, I keep dreaming all the time. If only we could marry you to a rich man, then I should feel more at rest. Then I would go off by myself on a pilgrimage to Kiev, to Moscow … and so I would spend my life going from one holy place to another. … I would go on and on. … What bliss!
Anya	The birds are singing in the garden. What time is it?
Varya	It must be nearly three. It’s time you were asleep, darling going into Anya’s* room*. What bliss!
	Yasha enters with a rug and a travelling bag.
Yasha	Crosses the stage, mincingly. May one come in here, pray?
Dunyasha	I shouldn’t have known you, Yasha. How you have changed abroad.
Yasha	H’m! … And who are you?
Dunyasha	When you went away, I was that high shows distance from floor. Dunyasha, Fyodor’s daughter. … You don’t remember me!
Yasha	H’m! … You’re a peach! Looks round and embraces her: she shrieks and drops a saucer. Yasha* goes out hastily.*
Varya	In the doorway, in a tone of vexation. What now?
Dunyasha	Through her tears. I have broken a saucer.
Varya	Well, that brings good luck.
Anya	Coming out of her room. We ought to prepare mamma: Petya is here.
Varya	I told them not to wake him.
Anya	Dreamily. It’s six years since father died. Then only a month later little brother Grisha was drowned in the river, such a pretty boy he was, only seven. It was more than mamma could bear, so she went away, went away without looking back shuddering. … How well I understand her, if only she knew! A pause. And Petya Trofimov was Grisha’s tutor, he may remind her.
	Enter Firs: he is wearing a pea-jacket and a white waistcoat.
Firs	Goes up to the coffe-pot, anxiously. The mistress will be served here puts on white gloves. Is the coffee ready? Sternly to Dunyasha. Girl! Where’s the cream?
Dunyasha	Ah, mercy on us! Goes out quickly.
Firs	Fussing round the coffeepot. Ech! you good-for-nothing! Muttering to himself. Come back from Paris. And the old master used to go to Paris too … horses all the way laughs.
Varya	What is it, Firs?
Firs	What is your pleasure? Gleefully. My lady has come home! I have lived to see her again! Now I can die weeps with joy.
	Enter Lyubov Andreyevna, Gaev and Semyonov-Pishtchik; the latter is in a short-waisted full coat of fine cloth, and full trousers. Gaev, as he comes in, makes a gesture with his arms and his whole body, as though he were playing billiards.
Lyubov	How does it go? Let me remember. Cannon off the red!
Gaev	That’s it—in off the white! Why, once, sister, we used to sleep together in this very room, and now I’m fifty-one, strange as it seems.
Lopahin	Yes, time flies.
Gaev	What do you say?
Lopahin	Time, I say, flies.
Gaev	What a smell of patchouli!
Anya	I’m going to bed. Good night, mamma kisses her mother.
Lyubov	My precious darling kisses her hands. Are you glad to be home? I can’t believe it.
Anya	Good night, uncle.
Gaev	Kissing her face and hands. God bless you! How like you are to your mother! To his sister. At her age you were just the same, Lyuba.
	Anya shakes hands with Lopahin and Pishtchik, then goes out, shutting the door after her.
Lyubov	She’s quite worn out.
Pishtchik	Aye, it’s a long journey, to be sure.
Varya	To Lopahin* and Pishtchik.* Well, gentlemen? It’s three o’clock and time to say goodbye.
Lyubov	Laughs. You’re just the same as ever, Varya draws her to her and kisses her. I’ll just drink my coffee and then we will all go and rest. Firs puts a cushion under her feet. Thanks, friend. I am so fond of coffee, I drink it day and night. Thanks, dear old man kisses Firs.
Varya	I’ll just see whether all the things have been brought in goes out.
Lyubov	Can it really be me sitting here? Laughs. I want to dance about and clap my hands. Covers her face with her hands. And I could drop asleep in a moment! God knows I love my country, I love it tenderly; I couldn’t look out of the window in the train, I kept crying so. Through her tears. But I must drink my coffee, though. Thank you, Firs, thanks, dear old man. I’m so glad to find you still alive.
Firs	The day before yesterday.
Gaev	He’s rather deaf.
Lopahin	I have to set off for Harkov directly, at five o’clock. … It is annoying! I wanted to have a look at you, and a little talk. … You are just as splendid as ever.
Pishtchik	Breathing heavily. Handsomer, indeed. … Dressed in Parisian style … completely bowled me over.
Lopahin	Your brother, Leonid Andreyevitch here, is always saying that I’m a lowborn knave, that I’m a moneygrubber, but I don’t care one straw for that. Let him talk. Only I do want you to believe in me as you used to. I do want your wonderful tender eyes to look at me as they used to in the old days. Merciful God! My father was a serf of your father and of your grandfather, but you—you—did so much for me once, that I’ve forgotten all that; I love you as though you were my kin … more than my kin.
Lyubov	I can’t sit still, I simply can’t … jumps up and walks about in violent agitation. This happiness is too much for me. … You may laugh at me, I know I’m silly. … My own bookcase kisses the bookcase. My little table.
Gaev	Nurse died while you were away.
Lyubov	Sits down and drinks coffee. Yes, the Kingdom of Heaven be hers! You wrote me of her death.
Gaev	And Anastasy is dead. Squinting Petrushka has left me and is in service now with the police captain in the town takes a box of caramels out of his pocket and sucks one.
Pishtchik	My daughter, Dashenka, wishes to be remembered to you.
Lopahin	I want to tell you something very pleasant and cheering glancing at his watch. I’m going directly … there’s no time to say much … well, I can say it in a couple of words. I needn’t tell you your cherry orchard is to be sold to pay your debts; the 22nd of August is the date fixed for the sale; but don’t you worry, dearest lady, you may sleep in peace, there is a way of saving it. … This is what I propose. I beg your attention! Your estate is not twenty miles from the town, the railway runs close by it, and if the cherry orchard and the land along the river bank were cut up into building plots and then let on lease for summer villas, you would make an income of at least 25,000 roubles a year out of it.
Gaev	That’s all rot, if you’ll excuse me.
Lyubov	I don’t quite understand you, Yermolay Alexeyevitch.
Lopahin	You will get a rent of at least twenty-five roubles a year for a three-acre plot from summer visitors, and if you say the word now, I’ll bet you what you like there won’t be one square foot of ground vacant by the autumn, all the plots will be taken up. I congratulate you; in fact, you are saved. It’s a perfect situation with that deep river. Only, of course, it must be cleared—all the old buildings, for example, must be removed, this house too, which is really good for nothing, and the old cherry orchard must be cut down.
Lyubov	Cut down? My dear fellow, forgive me, but you don’t know what you are talking about. If there is one thing interesting—remarkable indeed—in the whole province, it’s just our cherry orchard.
Lopahin	The only thing remarkable about the orchard is that it’s a very large one. There’s a crop of cherries every alternate year, and then there’s nothing to be done with them, no one buys them.
Gaev	This orchard is mentioned in the Encyclopaedia.
Lopahin	Glancing at his watch. If we don’t decide on something and don’t take some steps, on the 22nd of August the cherry orchard and the whole estate too will be sold by auction. Make up your minds! There is no other way of saving it, I’ll take my oath on that. No, no!
Firs	In old days, forty or fifty years ago, they used to dry the cherries, soak them, pickle them, make jam too, and they used—
Gaev	Be quiet, Firs.
Firs	And they used to send the preserved cherries to Moscow and to Harkov by the wagon-load. That brought the money in! And the preserved cherries in those days were soft and juicy, sweet and fragrant. … They knew the way to do them then. …
Lyubov	And where is the recipe now?
Firs	It’s forgotten. Nobody remembers it.
Pishtchik	To Lyubov Andreyevna. What’s it like in Paris? Did you eat frogs there?
Lyubov	Oh, I ate crocodiles.
Pishtchik	Fancy that now!
Lopahin	There used to be only the gentlefolks and the peasants in the country, but now there are these summer visitors. All the towns, even the small ones, are surrounded nowadays by these summer villas. And one may say for sure, that in another twenty years there’ll be many more of these people and that they’ll be everywhere. At present the summer visitor only drinks tea in his verandah, but maybe he’ll take to working his bit of land too, and then your cherry orchard would become happy, rich and prosperous. …
Gaev	Indignant. What rot!
	Enter Varya* and Yasha.*
Varya	There are two telegrams for you, mamma takes out keys and opens an old-fashioned bookcase with a loud crack. Here they are.
Lyubov	From Paris tears the telegrams, without reading them. I have done with Paris.
Gaev	Do you know, Lyuba, how old that bookcase is? Last week I pulled out the bottom drawer and there I found the date branded on it. The bookcase was made just a hundred years ago. What do you say to that? We might have celebrated its jubilee. Though it’s an inanimate object, still it is a book case.
Pishtchik	Amazed. A hundred years! Fancy that now.
Gaev	Yes. … It is a thing … feeling the bookcase. Dear, honoured, bookcase! Hail to thee who for more than a hundred years hast served the pure ideals of good and justice; thy silent call to fruitful labour has never flagged in those hundred years, maintaining in tears in the generations of man, courage and faith in a brighter future and fostering in us ideals of good and social consciousness a pause.
Lopahin	Yes. …
Lyubov	You are just the same as ever, Leonid.
Gaev	A little embarassed. Cannon off the right into the pocket!
Lopahin	Looking at his watch. Well, it’s time I was off.
Yasha	Handing Lyubov Andreyevna* medicine.* Perhaps you will take your pills now.
Pishtchik	You shouldn’t take medicines, my dear madam … they do no harm and no good. Give them here … honoured lady takes the pillbox, pours the pills into the hollow of his hand, blows on them, puts them in his mouth and drinks off some kvass. There!
Lyubov	In alarm. Why, you must be out of your mind!
Pishtchik	I have taken all the pills.
Lopahin	What a glutton! All laugh.
Firs	His honour stayed with us in Easter week, ate a gallon and a half of cucumbers … mutters.
Lyubov	What is he saying?
Varya	He has taken to muttering like that for the last three years. We are used to it.
Yasha	His declining years!
	Charlotta Ivanovna, a very thin, lanky figure in a white dress with a lorgnette in her belt, walks across the stage.
Lopahin	I beg your pardon, Charlotta Ivanovna, I have not had time to greet you tries to kiss her hand.
Charlotta	Pulling away her hand. If I let you kiss my hand, you’ll be wanting to kiss my elbow, and then my shoulder.
Lopahin	I’ve no luck today! All laugh. Charlotta Ivanovna, show us some tricks!
Lyubov	Charlotta, do show us some tricks!
Charlotta	I don’t want to. I’m sleepy goes out.
Lopahin	In three weeks’ time we shall meet again kisses Lyubov Andreyevna’s* hand. Goodbye till then—I must go. To Gaev.* Goodbye. Kisses Pishtchik. Goodbye. Gives his hand to Varya, then to Firs* and Yasha.* I don’t want to go. To Lyubov Andreyevna. If you think over my plan for the villas and make up your mind, then let me know; I will lend you 50,000 roubles. Think of it seriously.
Varya	Angrily. Well, do go, for goodness sake.
Lopahin	I’m going, I’m going goes out.
Gaev	Lowborn knave! I beg pardon, though … Varya is going to marry him, he’s Varya’s fiancé.
Varya	Don’t talk nonsense, uncle.
Lyubov	Well, Varya, I shall be delighted. He’s a good man.
Pishtchik	He is, one must acknowledge, a most worthy man. And my Dashenka … says too that … she says … various things snores, but at once wakes up. But all the same, honoured lady, could you oblige me … with a loan of 240 roubles … to pay the interest on my mortgage tomorrow?
Varya	Dismayed. No, no.
Lyubov	I really haven’t any money.
Pishtchik	It will turn up laughs. I never lose hope. I thought everything was over, I was a ruined man, and lo and behold—the railway passed through my land and … they paid me for it. And something else will turn up again, if not today, then tomorrow … Dashenka’ll win two hundred thousand … she’s got a lottery ticket.
Lyubov	Well, we’ve finished our coffee, we can go to bed.
Firs	Brushes Gaev, reprovingly. You have got on the wrong trousers again! What am I to do with you?
Varya	Softly. Anya’s asleep. Softly opens the window. Now the sun’s risen, it’s not a bit cold. Look, mamma, what exquisite trees! My goodness! And the air! The starlings are singing!
Gaev	Opens another window. The orchard is all white. You’ve not forgotten it, Lyuba? That long avenue that runs straight, straight as an arrow, how it shines on a moonlight night. You remember? You’ve not forgotten?
Lyubov	Looking out of the window into the garden. Oh, my childhood, my innocence! It was in this nursery I used to sleep, from here I looked out into the orchard, happiness waked with me every morning and in those days the orchard was just the same, nothing has changed laughs with delight. All, all white! Oh, my orchard! After the dark gloomy autumn, and the cold winter; you are young again, and full of happiness, the heavenly angels have never left you. … If I could cast off the burden that weighs on my heart, if I could forget the past!
Gaev	H’m! and the orchard will be sold to pay our debts; it seems strange. …
Lyubov	See, our mother walking … all in white, down the avenue! Laughs with delight. It is she!
Gaev	Where?
Varya	Oh, don’t, mamma!
Lyubov	There is no one. It was my fancy. On the right there, by the path to the arbour, there is a white tree bending like a woman. …
	Enter Trofimov* wearing a shabby student’s uniform and spectacles.*
Lyubov	What a ravishing orchard! White masses of blossom, blue sky. …
Trofimov	Lyubov Andreyevna! She looks round at him. I will just pay my respects to you and then leave you at once kisses her hand warmly. I was told to wait until morning, but I hadn’t the patience to wait any longer. …
	Lyubov Andreyevna looks at him in perplexity.
Varya	Through her tears. This is Petya Trofimov.
Trofimov	Petya Trofimov, who was your Grisha’s tutor. … Can I have changed so much?
	Lyubov Andreyevna embraces him and weeps quietly.
Gaev	In confusion. There, there, Lyuba.
Varya	Crying. I told you, Petya, to wait till tomorrow.
Lyubov	My Grisha … my boy … Grisha … my son!
Varya	We can’t help it, mamma, it is God’s will.
Trofimov	Softly through his tears. There … there.
Lyubov	Weeping quietly. My boy was lost … drowned. Why? Oh, why, dear Petya? More quietly. Anya is asleep in there, and I’m talking loudly … making this noise. … But, Petya? Why have you grown so ugly? Why do you look so old?
Trofimov	A peasant-woman in the train called me a mangy-looking gentleman.
Lyubov	You were quite a boy then, a pretty little student, and now your hair’s thin—and spectacles. Are you really a student still? Goes towards the door.
Trofimov	I seem likely to be a perpetual student.
Lyubov	Kisses her brother, then Varya. Well, go to bed. … You are older too, Leonid.
Pishtchik	Follows her. I suppose it’s time we were asleep. … Ugh! my gout. I’m staying the night; Lyubov Andreyevna, my dear soul, if you could … tomorrow morning … 240 roubles.
Gaev	That’s always his story.
Pishtchik	240 roubles … to pay the interest on my mortgage.
Lyubov	My dear man, I have no money.
Pishtchik	I’ll pay it back, my dear … a trifling sum.
Lyubov	Oh, well, Leonid will give it you. … You give him the money, Leonid.
Gaev	Me give it him! Let him wait till he gets it!
Lyubov	It can’t be helped, give it him. He needs it. He’ll pay it back.
	Lyubov Andreyevna, Trofimov, Pishtchik and Firs go out. Gaev, Varya and Yasha remain.
Gaev	Sister hasn’t got out of the habit of flinging away her money. To Yasha. Get away, my good fellow, you smell of the henhouse.
Yasha	With a grin. And you, Leonid Andreyevitch, are just the same as ever.
Gaev	What’s that? To Varya. What did he say?
Varya	To Yasha. Your mother has come from the village; she has been sitting in the servants’ room since yesterday, waiting to see you.
Yasha	Oh, bother her!
Varya	For shame!
Yasha	What’s the hurry? She might just as have come tomorrow goes out.
Varya	Mamma’s just the same as ever, she hasn’t changed a bit. If she had her own way, she’d give away everything.
Gaev	Yes a pause. If a great many remedies are suggested for some disease, it means that the disease is incurable. I keep thinking and racking my brains; I have many schemes, a great many, and that really means none. If we could only come in for a legacy from somebody, or marry our Anya to a very rich man, or we might go to Yaroslavl and try our luck with our old aunt, the Countess. She’s very, very rich, you know.
Varya	Weeps. If God would help us.
Gaev	Don’t blubber. Aunt’s very rich, but she doesn’t like us. First, sister married a lawyer instead of a nobleman. …
	Anya appears in the doorway.
Gaev	And then her conduct, one can’t call it virtuous. She is good, and kind, and nice, and I love her, but, however one allows for extenuating circumstances, there’s no denying that she’s an immoral woman. One feels it in her slightest gesture.
Varya	In a whisper. Anya’s in the doorway.
Gaev	What do you say? A pause. It’s queer, there seems to be something wrong with my right eye. I don’t see as well as I did. And on Thursday when I was in the district Court …
	Enter Anya.
Varya	Why aren’t you asleep, Anya?
Anya	I can’t get to sleep.
Gaev	My pet kisses Anya’s* face and hands. My child weeps*. You are not my niece, you are my angel, you are everything to me. Believe me, believe …
Anya	I believe you, uncle. Everyone loves you and respects you … but, uncle dear, you must be silent … simply be silent. What were you saying just now about my mother, about your own sister? What made you say that?
Gaev	Yes, yes … puts his hand over his face. Really, that was awful! My God, save me! And today I made a speech to the bookcase … so stupid! And only when I had finished, I saw how stupid it was.
Varya	It’s true, uncle, you ought to keep quiet. Don’t talk, that’s all.
Anya	If you could keep from talking, it would make things easier for you, too.
Gaev	I won’t speak kisses Anya’s* and Varya’s hands*. I’ll be silent. Only this is about business. On Thursday I was in the district Court; well, there was a large party of us there and we began talking of one thing and another, and this and that, and do you know, I believe that it will be possible to raise a loan on an I.O.U. to pay the arrears on the mortgage.
Varya	If the Lord would help us!
Gaev	I’m going on Tuesday; I’ll talk of it again. To Varya. Don’t blubber. To Anya. Your mamma will talk to Lopahin; of course, he won’t refuse her. And as soon as you’re rested you shall go to Yaroslavl to the Countess, your great-aunt. So we shall all set to work in three directions at once, and the business is done. We shall pay off arrears, I’m convinced of it puts a caramel in his mouth. I swear on my honour, I swear by anything you like, the estate shan’t be sold excitedly. By my own happiness, I swear it! Here’s my hand on it, call me the basest, vilest of men, if I let it come to an auction! Upon my soul I swear it!
Anya	Her equanimity has returned, she is quite happy. How good you are, uncle, and how clever! Embraces her uncle. I’m at peace now! Quite at peace! I’m happy!
	Enter Firs.
Firs	Reproachfully. Leonid Andreyevitch, have you no fear of God? When are you going to bed?
Gaev	Directly, directly. You can go, Firs. I’ll … yes, I will undress myself. Come, children, bye-bye. We’ll go into details tomorrow, but now go to bed kisses Anya and Varya. I’m a man of the eighties. They run down that period, but still I can say I have had to suffer not a little for my convictions in my life. It’s not for nothing that the peasant loves me. One must know the peasant! One must know how …
Anya	At it again, uncle!
Varya	Uncle dear, you’d better be quiet!
Firs	Angrily. Leonid Andreyevitch!
Gaev	I’m coming. I’m coming. Go to bed. Potted the shot—there’s a shot for you! A beauty! Goes out, Firs* hobbling after him.*
Anya	My mind’s at rest now. I don’t want to go to Yaroslavl, I don’t like my great-aunt, but still my mind’s at rest. Thanks to uncle sits down.
Varya	We must go to bed. I’m going. Something unpleasant happened while you were away. In the old servants’ quarters there are only the old servants, as you know—Efimyushka, Polya and Yevstigney—and Karp too. They began letting stray people in to spend the night—I said nothing. But all at once I heard they had been spreading a report that I gave them nothing but pease pudding to eat. Out of stinginess, you know. … And it was all Yevstigney’s doing. … Very well, I said to myself. … If that’s how it is, I thought, wait a bit. I sent for Yevstigney … yawns. He comes. “How’s this, Yevstigney,” I said, “you could be such a fool as to? …” Looking at Anya. Anitchka! A pause. She’s asleep puts her arm round Anya. Come to bed … come along! Leads her. My darling has fallen asleep! Come … They go.
	Far away beyond the orchard a shepherd plays on a pipe. Trofimov* crosses the stage and, seeing Varya and Anya, stands still.*
Varya	’Sh! She’s asleep, asleep. Come, my own.
Anya	Softly, half asleep. I’m so tired. Still those bells. Uncle … dear … mamma and uncle. …
Varya	Come, my own, come along.
	They go into Anya’s* room.*
Trofimov	Tenderly. My sunshine! My spring!
	Curtain.

Act II

The open country. An old shrine, long abandoned and fallen out of the perpendicular; near it a well, large stones that have apparently once been tombstones, and an old garden seat. The road to Gaev’s house is seen. On one side rise dark poplars; and there the cherry orchard begins. In the distance a row of telegraph poles and far, far away on the horizon there is faintly outlined a great town, only visible in very fine clear weather. It is near sunset. Charlotta, Yasha and Dunyasha are sitting on the seat. Epihodov is standing near, playing something mournful on a guitar. All sit plunged in thought. Charlotta wears an old forage cap; she has taken a gun from her shoulder and is tightening the buckle on the strap.

Charlotta	Musingly. I haven’t a real passport of my own, and I don’t know how old I am, and I always feel that I’m a young thing. When I was a little girl, my father and mother used to travel about to fairs and give performances—very good ones. And I used to dance salto mortale and all sorts of things. And when papa and mamma died, a German lady took me and had me educated. And so I grew up and became a governess. But where I came from, and who I am, I don’t know. … Who my parents were, very likely they weren’t married … I don’t know takes a cucumber out of her pocket and eats. I know nothing at all a pause. One wants to talk and has no one to talk to … I have nobody.
Epihodov	Plays on the guitar and sings. “What care I for the noisy world! What care I for friends or foes!” How agreeable it is to play on the mandoline!
Dunyasha	That’s a guitar, not a mandoline looks in a hand-mirror and powders herself.
Epihodov	To a man mad with love, it’s a mandoline. Sings. “Were her heart but aglow with love’s mutual flame.” Yasha joins in.
Charlotta	How shockingly these people sing! Foo! Like jackals!
Dunyasha	To Yasha. What happiness, though, to visit foreign lands.
Yasha	Ah, yes! I rather agree with you there yawns, then lights a cigar.
Epihodov	That’s comprehensible. In foreign lands everything has long since reached full complexion.
Yasha	That’s so, of course.
Epihodov	I’m a cultivated man, I read remarkable books of all sorts, but I can never make out the tendency I am myself precisely inclined for, whether to live or to shoot myself, speaking precisely, but nevertheless I always carry a revolver. Here it is … shows revolver.
Charlotta	I’ve had enough, and now I’m going puts on the gun. Epihodov, you’re a very clever fellow, and a very terrible one too, all the women must be wild about you. Br‑r‑r! Goes. These clever fellows are all so stupid; there’s not a creature for me to speak to. … Always alone, alone, nobody belonging to me … and who I am, and why I’m on earth, I don’t know walks away slowly.
Epihodov	Speaking precisely, not touching upon other subjects, I’m bound to admit about myself, that destiny behaves mercilessly to me, as a storm to a little boat. If, let us suppose, I am mistaken, then why did I wake up this morning, to quote an example, and look round, and there on my chest was a spider of fearful magnitude … like this shows with both hands. And then I take up a jug of kvass, to quench my thirst, and in it there is something in the highest degree unseemly of the nature of a cockroach a pause. Have you read Buckle? A pause. I am desirous of troubling you, Dunyasha, with a couple of words.
Dunyasha	Well, speak.
Epihodov	I should be desirous to speak with you alone sighs.
Dunyasha	Embarrassed. Well—only bring me my mantle first. It’s by the cupboard. It’s rather damp here.
Epihodov	Certainly. I will fetch it. Now I know what I must do with my revolver takes guitar and goes off playing on it.
Yasha	Two and twenty misfortunes! Between ourselves, he’s a fool yawns.
Dunyasha	God grant he doesn’t shoot himself! A pause. I am so nervous, I’m always in a flutter. I was a little girl when I was taken into our lady’s house, and now I have quite grown out of peasant ways, and my hands are white, as white as a lady’s. I’m such a delicate, sensitive creature, I’m afraid of everything. I’m so frightened. And if you deceive me, Yasha, I don’t know what will become of my nerves.
Yasha	Kisses her. You’re a peach! Of course a girl must never forget herself; what I dislike more than anything is a girl being flighty in her behaviour.
Dunyasha	I’m passionately in love with you, Yasha; you are a man of culture—you can give your opinion about anything a pause.
Yasha	Yawns. Yes, that’s so. My opinion is this: if a girl loves anyone, that means that she has no principles a pause. It’s pleasant smoking a cigar in the open air listens. Someone’s coming this way … it’s the gentlefolk. Dunyasha embraces him impulsively. Go home, as though you had been to the river to bathe; go by that path, or else they’ll meet you and suppose I have made an appointment with you here. That I can’t endure.
Dunyasha	Coughing softly. The cigar has made my head ache … goes off.
	Yasha remains sitting near the shrine. Enter Lyubov Andreyevna, Gaev and Lopahin.
Lopahin	You must make up your mind once for all—there’s no time to lose. It’s quite a simple question, you know. Will you consent to letting the land for building or not? One word in answer: Yes or no? Only one word!
Lyubov	Who is smoking such horrible cigars here? Sits down.
Gaev	Now the railway line has been brought near, it’s made things very convenient sits down. Here we have been over and lunched in town. Cannon off the white! I should like to go home and have a game.
Lyubov	You have plenty of time.
Lopahin	Only one word! Beseechingly. Give me an answer!
Gaev	Yawning. What do you say?
Lyubov	Looks in her purse. I had quite a lot of money here yesterday, and there’s scarcely any left today. My poor Varya feeds us all on milk soup for the sake of economy; the old folks in the kitchen get nothing but pease pudding, while I waste my money in a senseless way drops purse, scattering gold pieces. There, they have all fallen out! Annoyed.
Yasha	Allow me, I’ll soon pick them up collects the coins.
Lyubov	Pray do, Yasha. And what did I go off to the town to lunch for? Your restaurant’s a wretched place with its music and the tablecloth smelling of soap. … Why drink so much, Leonid? And eat so much? And talk so much? Today you talked a great deal again in the restaurant, and all so inappropriately. About the era of the ’seventies, about the decadents. And to whom? Talking to waiters about decadents!
Lopahin	Yes.
Gaev	Waving his hand. I’m incorrigible; that’s evident. Irritably to Yasha. Why is it you keep fidgeting about in front of us!
Yasha	Laughs. I can’t help laughing when I hear your voice.
Gaev	To his sister. Either I or he …
Lyubov	Get along! Go away, Yasha.
Yasha	Gives Lyubov Andreyevna* her purse.* Directly hardly able to suppress his laughter. This minute … goes off.
Lopahin	Deriganov, the millionaire, means to buy your estate. They say he is coming to the sale himself.
Lyubov	Where did you hear that?
Lopahin	That’s what they say in town.
Gaev	Our aunt in Yaroslavl has promised to send help; but when, and how much she will send, we don’t know.
Lopahin	How much will she send? A hundred thousand? Two hundred?
Lyubov	Oh, well! … Ten or fifteen thousand, and we must be thankful to get that.
Lopahin	Forgive me, but such reckless people as you are—such queer, unbusiness-like people—I never met in my life. One tells you in plain Russian your estate is going to be sold, and you seem not to understand it.
Lyubov	What are we to do? Tell us what to do.
Lopahin	I do tell you every day. Every day I say the same thing. You absolutely must let the cherry orchard and the land on building leases; and do it at once, as quick as may be—the auction’s close upon us! Do understand! Once make up your mind to build villas, and you can raise as much money as you like, and then you are saved.
Lyubov	Villas and summer visitors—forgive me saying so—it’s so vulgar.
Gaev	There I perfectly agree with you.
Lopahin	I shall sob, or scream, or fall into a fit. I can’t stand it! You drive me mad! To Gaev. You’re an old woman!
Gaev	What do you say?
Lopahin	An old woman! Gets up to go.
Lyubov	In dismay. No, don’t go! Do stay, my dear friend! Perhaps we shall think of something.
Lopahin	What is there to think of?
Lyubov	Don’t go, I entreat you! With you here it’s more cheerful, anyway a pause. I keep expecting something, as though the house were going to fall about our ears.
Gaev	In profound dejection. Potted the white! It fails—a kiss.
Lyubov	We have been great sinners. …
Lopahin	You have no sins to repent of.
Gaev	Puts a caramel in his mouth. They say I’ve eaten up my property in caramels laughs.
Lyubov	Oh, my sins! I’ve always thrown my money away recklessly like a lunatic. I married a man who made nothing but debts. My husband died of champagne—he drank dreadfully. To my misery I loved another man, and immediately—it was my first punishment—the blow fell upon me, here, in the river … my boy was drowned and I went abroad—went away forever, never to return, not to see that river again … I shut my eyes, and fled, distracted, and he after me … pitilessly, brutally. I bought a villa at Mentone, for he fell ill there, and for three years I had no rest day or night. His illness wore me out, my soul was dried up. And last year, when my villa was sold to pay my debts, I went to Paris and there he robbed me of everything and abandoned me for another woman; and I tried to poison myself. … So stupid, so shameful! … And suddenly I felt a yearning for Russia, for my country, for my little girl … dries her tears. Lord, Lord, be merciful! Forgive my sins! Do not chastise me more! Takes a telegram out of her pocket. I got this today from Paris. He implores forgiveness, entreats me to return tears up the telegram. I fancy there is music somewhere listens.
Gaev	That’s our famous Jewish orchestra. You remember, four violins, a flute and a double bass.
Lyubov	That still in existence? We ought to send for them one evening, and give a dance.
Lopahin	Listens. I can’t hear. … Hums softly. “For money the Germans will turn a Russian into a Frenchman.” Laughs. I did see such a piece at the theatre yesterday! It was funny!
Lyubov	And most likely there was nothing funny in it. You shouldn’t look at plays, you should look at yourselves a little oftener. How grey your lives are! How much nonsense you talk.
Lopahin	That’s true. One may say honestly, we live a fool’s life pause. My father was a peasant, an idiot; he knew nothing and taught me nothing, only beat me when he was drunk, and always with his stick. In reality I am just such another blockhead and idiot. I’ve learnt nothing properly. I write a wretched hand. I write so that I feel ashamed before folks, like a pig.
Lyubov	You ought to get married, my dear fellow.
Lopahin	Yes … that’s true.
Lyubov	You should marry our Varya, she’s a good girl.
Lopahin	Yes.
Lyubov	She’s a good-natured girl, she’s busy all day long, and what’s more, she loves you. And you have liked her for ever so long.
Lopahin	Well? I’m not against it. … She’s a good girl pause.
Gaev	I’ve been offered a place in the bank: 6,000 roubles a year. Did you know?
Lyubov	You would never do for that! You must stay as you are.
	Enter Firs* with overcoat.*
Firs	Put it on, sir, it’s damp.
Gaev	Putting it on. You bother me, old fellow.
Firs	You can’t go on like this. You went away in the morning without leaving word looks him over.
Lyubov	You look older, Firs!
Firs	What is your pleasure?
Lopahin	You look older, she said.
Firs	I’ve had a long life. They were arranging my wedding before your papa was born … laughs. I was the head footman before the emancipation came. I wouldn’t consent to be set free then; I stayed on with the old master … a pause. I remember what rejoicings they made and didn’t know themselves what they were rejoicing over.
Lopahin	Those were fine old times. There was flogging anyway.
Firs	Not hearing. To be sure! The peasants knew their place, and the masters knew theirs; but now they’re all at sixes and sevens, there’s no making it out.
Gaev	Hold your tongue, Firs. I must go to town tomorrow. I have been promised an introduction to a general, who might let us have a loan.
Lopahin	You won’t bring that off. And you won’t pay your arrears, you may rest assured of that.
Lyubov	That’s all his nonsense. There is no such general.
	Enter Trofimov, Anya* and Varya.*
Gaev	Here come our girls.
Anya	There’s mamma on the seat.
Lyubov	Tenderly. Come here, come along. My darlings! Embraces Anya* and Varya.* If you only knew how I love you both. Sit beside me, there, like that. All sit down.
Lopahin	Our perpetual student is always with the young ladies.
Trofimov	That’s not your business.
Lopahin	He’ll soon be fifty, and he’s still a student.
Trofimov	Drop your idiotic jokes.
Lopahin	Why are you so cross, you queer fish?
Trofimov	Oh, don’t persist!
Lopahin	Laughs. Allow me to ask you what’s your idea of me?
Trofimov	I’ll tell you my idea of you, Yermolay Alexeyevitch: you are a rich man, you’ll soon be a millionaire. Well, just as in the economy of nature a wild beast is of use, who devours everything that comes in his way, so you too have your use.
	All laugh.
Varya	Better tell us something about the planets, Petya.
Lyubov	No, let us go on with the conversation we had yesterday.
Trofimov	What was it about?
Gaev	About pride.
Trofimov	We had a long conversation yesterday, but we came to no conclusion. In pride, in your sense of it, there is something mystical. Perhaps you are right from your point of view; but if one looks at it simply, without subtlety, what sort of pride can there be, what sense is there in it, if man in his physiological formation is very imperfect, if in the immense majority of cases he is coarse, dull-witted, profoundly unhappy? One must give up glorification of self. One should work, and nothing else.
Gaev	One must die in any case.
Trofimov	Who knows? And what does it mean—dying? Perhaps man has a hundred senses, and only the five we know are lost at death, while the other ninety-five remain alive.
Lyubov	How clever you are, Petya!
Lopahin	Ironically. Fearfully clever!
Trofimov	Humanity progresses, perfecting its powers. Everything that is beyond its ken now will one day become familiar and comprehensible; only we must work, we must with all our powers aid the seeker after truth. Here among us in Russia the workers are few in number as yet. The vast majority of the intellectual people I know, seek nothing, do nothing, are not fit as yet for work of any kind. They call themselves intellectual, but they treat their servants as inferiors, behave to the peasants as though they were animals, learn little, read nothing seriously, do practically nothing, only talk about science and know very little about art. They are all serious people, they all have severe faces, they all talk of weighty matters and air their theories, and yet the vast majority of us—ninety-nine percent—live like savages, at the least thing fly to blows and abuse, eat piggishly, sleep in filth and stuffiness, bugs everywhere, stench and damp and moral impurity. And it’s clear all our fine talk is only to divert our attention and other people’s. Show me where to find the crèches there’s so much talk about, and the reading-rooms? They only exist in novels: in real life there are none of them. There is nothing but filth and vulgarity and Asiatic apathy. I fear and dislike very serious faces. I’m afraid of serious conversations. We should do better to be silent.
Lopahin	You know, I get up at five o’clock in the morning, and I work from morning to night; and I’ve money, my own and other people’s, always passing through my hands, and I see what people are made of all round me. One has only to begin to do anything to see how few honest, decent people there are. Sometimes when I lie awake at night, I think: “Oh! Lord, thou hast given us immense forests, boundless plains, the widest horizons, and living here we ourselves ought really to be giants.”
Lyubov	You ask for giants! They are no good except in storybooks; in real life they frighten us.
	Epihodov advances in the background, playing on the guitar.
Lyubov	Dreamily. There goes Epihodov.
Anya	Dreamily. There goes Epihodov.
Gaev	The sun has set, my friends.
Trofimov	Yes.
Gaev	Not loudly, but, as it were, declaiming. O nature, divine nature, thou art bright with eternal lustre, beautiful and indifferent! Thou, whom we call mother, thou dost unite within thee life and death! Thou dost give life and dost destroy!
Varya	In a tone of supplication. Uncle!
Anya	Uncle, you are at it again!
Trofimov	You’d much better be cannoning off the red!
Gaev	I’ll hold my tongue, I will.
	All sit plunged in thought. Perfect stillness. The only thing audible is the muttering of Firs. Suddenly there is a sound in the distance, as it were from the sky—the sound of a breaking harp-string, mournfully dying away.
Lyubov	What is that?
Lopahin	I don’t know. Somewhere far away a bucket fallen and broken in the pits. But somewhere very far away.
Gaev	It might be a bird of some sort—such as a heron.
Trofimov	Or an owl.
Lyubov	Shudders. I don’t know why, but it’s horrid a pause.
Firs	It was the same before the calamity—the owl hooted and the samovar hissed all the time.
Gaev	Before what calamity?
Firs	Before the emancipation a pause.
Lyubov	Come, my friends, let us be going; evening is falling. To Anya. There are tears in your eyes. What is it, darling? Embraces her.
Anya	Nothing, mamma; it’s nothing.
Trofimov	There is somebody coming.
	The Wayfarer* appears in a shabby white forage cap and an overcoat; he is slightly drunk.*
Wayfarer	Allow me to inquire, can I get to the station this way?
Gaev	Yes. Go along that road.
Wayfarer	I thank you most feelingly coughing. The weather is superb. Declaims. My brother, my suffering brother! … Come out to the Volga! Whose groan do you hear? … To Varya. Mademoiselle, vouchsafe a hungry Russian thirty kopecks.
	Varya utters a shriek of alarm.
Lopahin	Angrily. There’s a right and a wrong way of doing everything!
Lyubov	Hurriedly. Here, take this looks in her purse. I’ve no silver. No matter—here’s gold for you.
Wayfarer	I thank you most feelingly! Goes off.
	Laughter.
Varya	Frightened. I’m going home—I’m going … Oh, mamma, the servants have nothing to eat, and you gave him gold!
Lyubov	There’s no doing anything with me. I’m so silly! When we get home, I’ll give you all I possess. Yermolay Alexeyevitch, you will lend me some more … !
Lopahin	I will.
Lyubov	Come, friends, it’s time to be going. And Varya, we have made a match of it for you. I congratulate you.
Varya	Through her tears. Mamma, that’s not a joking matter.
Lopahin	“Ophelia, get thee to a nunnery!”
Gaev	My hands are trembling; it’s a long while since I had a game of billiards.
Lopahin	“Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remember’d.”
Lyubov	Come, it will soon be suppertime.
Varya	How he frightened me! My heart’s simply throbbing.
Lopahin	Let me remind you, ladies and gentlemen: on the 22nd of August the cherry orchard will be sold. Think about that! Think about it!
	All go off, except Trofimov* and Anya.*
Anya	Laughing. I’m grateful to the wayfarer! He frightened Varya and we are left alone.
Trofimov	Varya’s afraid we shall fall in love with each other, and for days together she won’t leave us. With her narrow brain she can’t grasp that we are above love. To eliminate the petty and transitory which hinders us from being free and happy—that is the aim and meaning of our life. Forward! We go forward irresistibly towards the bright star that shines yonder in the distance. Forward! Do not lag behind, friends.
Anya	Claps her hands. How well you speak! A pause. It is divine here today.
Trofimov	Yes, it’s glorious weather.
Anya	Somehow, Petya, you’ve made me so that I don’t love the cherry orchard as I used to. I used to love it so dearly. I used to think that there was no spot on earth like our garden.
Trofimov	All Russia is our garden. The earth is great and beautiful—there are many beautiful places in it a pause. Think only, Anya, your grandfather, and great-grandfather, and all your ancestors were slave-owners—the owners of living souls—and from every cherry in the orchard, from every leaf, from every trunk there are human creatures looking at you. Cannot you hear their voices? Oh, it is awful! Your orchard is a fearful thing, and when in the evening or at night one walks about the orchard, the old bark on the trees glimmers dimly in the dusk, and the old cherry trees seem to be dreaming of centuries gone by and tortured by fearful visions. Yes! We are at least two hundred years behind, we have really gained nothing yet, we have no definite attitude to the past, we do nothing but theorise or complain of depression or drink vodka. It is clear that to begin to live in the present we must first expiate our past, we must break with it; and we can expiate it only by suffering, by extraordinary unceasing labour. Understand that, Anya.
Anya	The house we live in has long ceased to be our own, and I shall leave it, I give you my word.
Trofimov	If you have the house keys, fling them into the well and go away. Be free as the wind.
Anya	In ecstasy. How beautifully you said that!
Trofimov	Believe me, Anya, believe me! I am not thirty yet, I am young, I am still a student, but I have gone through so much already! As soon as winter comes I am hungry, sick, careworn, poor as a beggar, and what ups and downs of fortune have I not known! And my soul was always, every minute, day and night, full of inexplicable forebodings. I have a foreboding of happiness, Anya. I see glimpses of it already.
Anya	Pensively. The moon is rising.
	Epihodov is heard playing still the same mournful song on the guitar. The moon rises. Somewhere near the poplars Varya is looking for Anya and calling “Anya! where are you?”
Trofimov	Yes, the moon is rising a pause. Here is happiness—here it comes! It is coming nearer and nearer; already I can hear its footsteps. And if we never see it—if we may never know it—what does it matter? Others will see it after us.
Varya’s Voice	Anya! Where are you?
Trofimov	That Varya again! Angrily. It’s revolting!
Anya	Well, let’s go down to the river. It’s lovely there.
Trofimov	Yes, let’s go. They go.
Varya’s Voice	Anya! Anya!
	Curtain.

Act III

A drawing-room divided by an arch from a larger drawing-room. A chandelier burning. The Jewish orchestra, the same that was mentioned in Act II, is heard playing in the anteroom. It is evening. In the larger drawing-room they are dancing the grand chain. The voice of Seyonov-Pishtchik: “Promenade à une paire!” Then enter the drawing-room in couples, first Pishtchik and Charlotta Ivanovna, then Trofimov and Lyubov Andreyevna, thirdly Anya with the Post-Office Clerk, fourthly Varya with the Station Master, and other guests. Varya is quietly weeping and wiping away her tears as she dances. In the last couple is Dunyasha. They move across the drawing-room. Pishtchik shouts: “Grand rond, balancez!” and “Les Cavaliers à genou et remerciez vos dames.”

	Firs in a swallowtail coat brings in seltzer water on a tray. Pishtchik and Trofimov enter the drawing-room.
Pishtchik	I am a full-blooded man; I have already had two strokes. Dancing’s hard work for me, but as they say, if you’re in the pack, you must bark with the rest. I’m as strong, I may say, as a horse. My parent, who would have his joke—may the Kingdom of Heaven be his!—used to say about our origin that the ancient stock of the Semyonov-Pishtchiks was derived from the very horse that Caligula made a member of the senate sits down. But I’ve no money, that’s where the mischief is. A hungry dog believes in nothing but meat … snores, but at once wakes up. That’s like me … I can think of nothing but money.
Trofimov	There really is something horsy about your appearance.
Pishtchik	Well … a horse is a fine beast … a horse can be sold.
	There is the sound of billiards being played in an adjoining room. Varya* appears in the arch leading to the larger drawing-room.*
Trofimov	Teasing. Madame Lopahin! Madame Lopahin!
Varya	Angrily. Mangy-looking gentleman!
Trofimov	Yes, I am a mangy-looking gentleman, and I’m proud of it!
Varya	Pondering bitterly. Here we have hired musicians and nothing to pay them! Goes out.
Trofimov	To Pishtchik. If the energy you have wasted during your lifetime in trying to find the money to pay your interest, had gone to something else, you might in the end have turned the world upside down.
Pishtchik	Nietzsche, the philosopher, a very great and celebrated man … of enormous intellect … says in his works, that one can make forged banknotes.
Trofimov	Why, have you read Nietzsche?
Pishtchik	What next … Dashenka told me. … And now I am in such a position, I might just as well forge banknotes. The day after tomorrow I must pay 310 roubles—130 I have procured feels in his pockets, in alarm. The money’s gone! I have lost my money! Through his tears. Where’s the money? Gleefully. Why here it is behind the lining. … It has made me hot all over.
	Enter Lyubov Andreyevna* and Charlotta Ivanovna.*
Lyubov	Hums the Lezginka. Why is Leonid so long? What can he be doing in town? To Dunyasha. Offer the musicians some tea.
Trofimov	The sale hasn’t taken place, most likely.
Lyubov	It’s the wrong time to have the orchestra, and the wrong time to give a dance. Well, never mind sits down and hums softly.
Charlotta	Gives Pishtchik* a pack of cards.* Here’s a pack of cards. Think of any card you like.
Pishtchik	I’ve thought of one.
Charlotta	Shuffle the pack now. That’s right. Give it here, my dear Mr. Pishtchik. Ein, zwei, drei—now look, it’s in your breast pocket.
Pishtchik	Taking a card out of his breast pocket. The eight of spades! Perfectly right! Wonderingly. Fancy that now!
Charlotta	Holding pack of cards in her hands, to Trofimov. Tell me quickly which is the top card.
Trofimov	Well, the queen of spades.
Charlotta	It is! To Pishtchik. Well, which card is uppermost?
Pishtchik	The ace of hearts.
Charlotta	It is! Claps her hands, pack of cards disappears. Ah! what lovely weather it is today!
	A mysterious feminine voice which seems coming out of the floor answers her. “Oh, yes, it’s magnificent weather, madam.”
Charlotta	You are my perfect ideal.
Voice	And I greatly admire you too, madam.
Station Master	Applauding. The lady ventriloquist—bravo!
Pishtchik	Wonderingly. Fancy that now! Most enchanting Charlotta Ivanovna. I’m simply in love with you.
Charlotta	In love? Shrugging shoulders. What do you know of love, guter Mensch, aber schlechter Musikant.
Trofimov	Pats Pishtchik* on the shoulder.* You dear old horse. …
Charlotta	Attention, please! Another trick! Takes a travelling rug from a chair. Here’s a very good rug; I want to sell it shaking it out. Doesn’t anyone want to buy it?
Pishtchik	Wonderingly. Fancy that!
Charlotta	Ein, zwei, drei! Quickly picks up rug she has dropped; behind the rug stands Anya; she makes a curtsey, runs to her mother, embraces her and runs back into the larger drawing-room amidst general enthusiasm.
Lyubov	Applauds. Bravo! Bravo!
Charlotta	Now again! Ein, zwei, drei! Lifts up the rug; behind the rug stands Varya, bowing.
Pishtchik	Wonderingly. Fancy that now!
Charlotta	That’s the end throws the rug at Pishtchik, makes a curtsey, runs into the larger drawing-room.
Pishtchik	Hurries after her. Mischievous creature! Fancy! Goes out.
Lyubov	And still Leonid doesn’t come. I can’t understand what he’s doing in the town so long! Why, everything must be over by now. The estate is sold, or the sale has not taken place. Why keep us so long in suspense?
Varya	Trying to console her. Uncle’s bought it. I feel sure of that.
Trofimov	Ironically. Oh, yes!
Varya	Great-aunt sent him an authorisation to buy it in her name, and transfer the debt. She’s doing it for Anya’s sake, and I’m sure God will be merciful. Uncle will buy it.
Lyubov	My aunt in Yaroslavl sent fifteen thousand to buy the estate in her name, she doesn’t trust us—but that’s not enough even to pay the arrears hides her face in her hands. My fate is being sealed today, my fate …
Trofimov	Teasing Varya. Madame Lopahin.
Varya	Angrily. Perpetual student! Twice already you’ve been sent down from the University.
Lyubov	Why are you angry, Varya? He’s teasing you about Lopahin. Well, what of that? Marry Lopahin if you like, he’s a good man, and interesting; if you don’t want to, don’t! Nobody compels you, darling.
Varya	I must tell you plainly, mamma, I look at the matter seriously; he’s a good man, I like him.
Lyubov	Well, marry him. I can’t see what you’re waiting for.
Varya	Mamma, I can’t make him an offer myself. For the last two years, everyone’s been talking to me about him. Everyone talks; but he says nothing or else makes a joke. I see what it means. He’s growing rich, he’s absorbed in business, he has no thoughts for me. If I had money, were it ever so little, if I had only a hundred roubles, I’d throw everything up and go far away. I would go into a nunnery.
Trofimov	What bliss!
Varya	To Trofimov. A student ought to have sense! In a soft tone with tears. How ugly you’ve grown, Petya! How old you look! To Lyubov Andreyevna, no longer crying. But I can’t do without work, mamma; I must have something to do every minute.
	Enter Yasha.
Yasha	Hardly restraining his laughter. Epihodov has broken a billiard cue! Goes out.
Varya	What is Epihodov doing here? Who gave him leave to play billiards? I can’t make these people out goes out.
Lyubov	Don’t tease her, Petya. You see she has grief enough without that.
Trofimov	She is so very officious, meddling in what’s not her business. All the summer she’s given Anya and me no peace. She’s afraid of a love affair between us. What’s it to do with her? Besides, I have given no grounds for it. Such triviality is not in my line. We are above love!
Lyubov	And I suppose I am beneath love. Very uneasily. Why is it Leonid’s not here? If only I could know whether the estate is sold or not! It seems such an incredible calamity that I really don’t know what to think. I am distracted … I shall scream in a minute … I shall do something stupid. Save me, Petya, tell me something, talk to me!
Trofimov	What does it matter whether the estate is sold today or not? That’s all done with long ago. There’s no turning back, the path is overgrown. Don’t worry yourself, dear Lyubov Andreyevna. You mustn’t deceive yourself; for once in your life you must face the truth!
Lyubov	What truth? You see where the truth lies, but I seem to have lost my sight, I see nothing. You settle every great problem so boldly, but tell me, my dear boy, isn’t it because you’re young—because you haven’t yet understood one of your problems through suffering? You look forward boldly, and isn’t it that you don’t see and don’t expect anything dreadful because life is still hidden from your young eyes? You’re bolder, more honest, deeper than we are, but think, be just a little magnanimous, have pity on me. I was born here, you know, my father and mother lived here, my grandfather lived here, I love this house. I can’t conceive of life without the cherry orchard, and if it really must be sold, then sell me with the orchard embraces Trofimov, kisses him on the forehead. My boy was drowned here weeps. Pity me, my dear kind fellow.
Trofimov	You know I feel for you with all my heart.
Lyubov	But that should have been said differently, so differently takes out her handkerchief, telegram falls on the floor. My heart is so heavy today. It’s so noisy here, my soul is quivering at every sound, I’m shuddering all over, but I can’t go away; I’m afraid to be quiet and alone. Don’t be hard on me, Petya … I love you as though you were one of ourselves. I would gladly let you marry Anya—I swear I would—only, my dear boy, you must take your degree, you do nothing—you’re simply tossed by fate from place to place. That’s so strange. It is, isn’t it? And you must do something with your beard to make it grow somehow laughs. You look so funny!
Trofimov	Picks up the telegram. I’ve no wish to be a beauty.
Lyubov	That’s a telegram from Paris. I get one every day. One yesterday and one today. That savage creature is ill again, he’s in trouble again. He begs forgiveness, beseeches me to go, and really I ought to go to Paris to see him. You look shocked, Petya. What am I to do, my dear boy, what am I to do? He is ill, he is alone and unhappy, and who’ll look after him, who’ll keep him from doing the wrong thing, who’ll give him his medicine at the right time? And why hide it or be silent? I love him, that’s clear. I love him! I love him! He’s a millstone about my neck, I’m going to the bottom with him, but I love that stone and can’t live without it presses Trofimov’s* hand*. Don’t think ill of me, Petya, don’t tell me anything, don’t tell me …
Trofimov	Through his tears. For God’s sake forgive my frankness: why, he robbed you!
Lyubov	No! No! No! You mustn’t speak like that covers her ears.
Trofimov	He is a wretch! You’re the only person that doesn’t know it! He’s a worthless creature! A despicable wretch!
Lyubov	Getting angry, but speaking with restraint. You’re twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, but you’re still a schoolboy.
Trofimov	Possibly.
Lyubov	You should be a man at your age! You should understand what love means! And you ought to be in love yourself. You ought to fall in love! Angrily. Yes, yes, and it’s not purity in you, you’re simply a prude, a comic fool, a freak.
Trofimov	In horror. The things she’s saying!
Lyubov	I am above love! You’re not above love, but simply as our Firs here says, “You are a good-for-nothing.” At your age not to have a mistress!
Trofimov	In horror. This is awful! The things she is saying! Goes rapidly into the larger drawing-room clutching his head. This is awful! I can’t stand it! I’m going! Goes off, but at once returns. All is over between us! Goes off into the anteroom.
Lyubov	Shouts after him. Petya! Wait a minute! You funny creature! I was joking! Petya! There is a sound of somebody running quickly downstairs and suddenly falling with a crash. Anya* and Varya scream, but there is a sound of laughter at once.*
Lyubov	What has happened?
	Anya runs in.
Anya	Laughing. Petya’s fallen downstairs! Runs out.
Lyubov	What a queer fellow that Petya is!
	The Station Master stands in the middle of the larger room and reads “The Magdalene,” by Alexey Tolstoy. They listen to him, but before he has recited many lines strains of a waltz are heard from the anteroom and the reading is broken off. All dance. Trofimov, Anya, Varya and Lyubov Andreyevna come in from the anteroom.
Lyubov	Come, Petya—come, pure heart! I beg your pardon. Let’s have a dance! Dances with Petya.
	Anya and Varya dance. Firs comes in, puts his stick down near the side door. Yasha also comes into the drawing-room and looks on at the dancing.
Yasha	What is it, old man?
Firs	I don’t feel well. In old days we used to have generals, barons and admirals dancing at our balls, and now we send for the post-office clerk and the station master and even they’re not overanxious to come. I am getting feeble. The old master, the grandfather, used to give sealing-wax for all complaints. I have been taking sealing-wax for twenty years or more. Perhaps that’s what’s kept me alive.
Yasha	You bore me, old man! Yawns. It’s time you were done with.
Firs	Ach, you’re a good-for-nothing! Mutters.
	Trofimov and Lyubov Andreyevna dance in the larger room and then on to the stage.
Lyubov	Merci. I’ll sit down a little sits down. I’m tired.
	Enter Anya.
Anya	Excitedly. There’s a man in the kitchen has been saying that the cherry orchard’s been sold today.
Lyubov	Sold to whom?
Anya	He didn’t say to whom. He’s gone away.
	She dances with Trofimov, and they go off into the larger room.
Yasha	There was an old man gossiping there, a stranger.
Firs	Leonid Andreyevitch isn’t here yet, he hasn’t come back. He has his light overcoat on, demi-saison, he’ll catch cold for sure. Ach! Foolish young things!!
Lyubov	I feel as though I should die. Go, Yasha, find out to whom it has been sold.
Yasha	But he went away long ago, the old chap laughs.
Lyubov	With slight vexation. What are you laughing at? What are you pleased at?
Yasha	Epihodov is so funny. He’s a silly fellow, two and twenty misfortunes.
Lyubov	Firs, if the estate is sold, where will you go?
Firs	Where you bid me, there I’ll go.
Lyubov	Why do you look like that? Are you ill? You ought to be in bed.
Firs	Yes ironically. Me go to bed and who’s to wait here? Who’s to see to things without me? I’m the only one in all the house.
Yasha	To Lyubov Andreyevna. Lyubov Andreyevna, permit me to make a request of you; if you go back to Paris again, be so kind as to take me with you. It’s positively impossible for me to stay here looking about him; in an undertone. There’s no need to say it, you see for yourself—an uncivilised country, the people have no morals, and then the dullness! The food in the kitchen’s abominable, and then Firs runs after one muttering all sorts of unsuitable words. Take me with you, please do!
	Enter Pishtchik.
Pishtchik	Allow me to ask you for a waltz, my dear lady. Lyubov Andreyevna goes with him. Enchanting lady, I really must borrow of you just 180 roubles dances, only 180 roubles. They pass into the larger room.
Yasha	Hums softly. “Knowest thou my soul’s emotion.”
	In the larger drawing-room, a figure in a grey top hat and in check trousers is gesticulating and jumping about. Shouts of “Bravo, Charlotta Ivanovna.”
Dunyasha	She has stopped to powder herself. My young lady tells me to dance. There are plenty of gentlemen, and too few ladies, but dancing makes me giddy and makes my heart beat. Firs, the post-office clerk said something to me just now that quite took my breath away.
	Music becomes more subdued.
Firs	What did he say to you?
Dunyasha	He said I was like a flower.
Yasha	Yawns. What ignorance! Goes out.
Dunyasha	Like a flower. I am a girl of such delicate feelings, I am awfully fond of soft speeches.
Firs	Your head’s being turned.
	Enter Epihodov.
Epihodov	You have no desire to see me, Dunyasha. I might be an insect sighs. Ah! life!
Dunyasha	What is it you want?
Epihodov	Undoubtedly you may be right sighs. But of course, if one looks at it from that point of view, if I may so express myself, you have, excuse my plain speaking, reduced me to a complete state of mind. I know my destiny. Every day some misfortune befalls me and I have long ago grown accustomed to it, so that I look upon my fate with a smile. You gave me your word, and though I—
Dunyasha	Let us have a talk later, I entreat you, but now leave me in peace, for I am lost in reverie plays with her fan.
Epihodov	I have a misfortune every day, and if I may venture to express myself, I merely smile at it, I even laugh.
	Varya enters from the larger drawing-room.
Varya	You still have not gone, Epihodov. What a disrespectful creature you are, really! To Dunyasha. Go along, Dunyasha! To Epihodov. First you play billiards and break the cue, then you go wandering about the drawing-room like a visitor!
Epihodov	You really cannot, if I may so express myself, call me to account like this.
Varya	I’m not calling you to account, I’m speaking to you. You do nothing but wander from place to place and don’t do your work. We keep you as a countinghouse clerk, but what use you are I can’t say.
Epihodov	Offended. Whether I work or whether I walk, whether I eat or whether I play billiards, is a matter to be judged by persons of understanding and my elders.
Varya	You dare to tell me that! Firing up. You dare! You mean to say I’ve no understanding. Begone from here! This minute!
Epihodov	Intimidated. I beg you to express yourself with delicacy.
Varya	Beside herself with anger. This moment! get out! away! He goes towards the door, she following him. Two and twenty misfortunes! Take yourself off! Don’t let me set eyes on you! Epihodov has gone out, behind the door his voice, “I shall lodge a complaint against you.” What! You’re coming back? Snatches up the stick Firs* has put down near the door.* Come! Come! Come! I’ll show you! What! you’re coming? Then take that! She swings the stick, at the very moment that Lopahin* comes in.*
Lopahin	Very much obliged to you!
Varya	Angrily and ironically. I beg your pardon!
Lopahin	Not at all! I humbly thank you for your kind reception!
Varya	No need of thanks for it moves away, then looks round and asks softly. I haven’t hurt you?
Lopahin	Oh, no! Not at all! There’s an immense bump coming up, though!
Voices from Larger Room	Lopahin has come! Yermolay Alexeyevitch!
Pishtchik	What do I see and hear? Kisses Lopahin. There’s whiff of cognac about about you, my dear soul, and we’re making merry here too!
	Enter Lyubov Andreyevna.
Lyubov	Is it you, Yermolay Alexeyevitch? Why have you been so long? Where’s Leonid?
Lopahin	Leonid Andreyevitch arrived with me. He is coming.
Lyubov	In agitation. Well! Well! Was there a sale? Speak!
Lopahin	Embarrassed, afraid of betraying his joy. The sale was over at four o’clock. We missed our train—had to wait till half-past nine. Sighing heavily. Ugh! I feel a little giddy.
	Enter Gaev. In his right hand he has purchases, with his left hand he is wiping away his tears.
Lyubov	Well, Leonid? What news? Impatiently, with tears. Make haste, for God’s sake!
Gaev	Makes her no answer, simply waves his hand. To Firs, weeping. Here, take them; there’s anchovies, Kertch herrings. I have eaten nothing all day. What I have been through! Door into the billiard room is open. There is heard a knocking of balls and the voice of Yasha* saying “Eighty-seven.” Gaev’s expression changes, he leaves off weeping.* I am fearfully tired. Firs, come and help me change my things goes to his own room across the larger drawing-room.
Pishtchik	How about the sale? Tell us, do!
Lyubov	Is the cherry orchard sold?
Lopahin	It is sold.
Lyubov	Who has bought it?
Lopahin	I have bought it. A pause. Lyubov* is crushed; she would fall down if she were not standing near a chair and table.*
	Varya takes keys from her waistband, flings them on the floor in middle of the drawing-room and goes out.
Lopahin	I have bought it! Wait a bit, ladies and gentlemen, pray. My head’s a bit muddled, I can’t speak laughs. We came to the auction. Deriganov was there already. Leonid Andreyevitch only had fifteen thousand and Deriganov bid thirty thousand, besides the arrears, straight off. I saw how the land lay. I bid against him. I bid forty thousand, he bid forty-five thousand, I said fifty-five, and so he went on, adding five thousands and I adding ten. Well … So it ended. I bid ninety, and it was knocked down to me. Now the cherry orchard’s mine! Mine! Chuckles. My God, the cherry orchard’s mine! Tell me that I’m drunk, that I’m out of my mind, that it’s all a dream stamps with his feet. Don’t laugh at me! If my father and my grandfather could rise from their graves and see all that has happened! How their Yermolay, ignorant, beaten Yermolay, who used to run about barefoot in winter, how that very Yermolay has bought the finest estate in the world! I have bought the estate where my father and grandfather were slaves, where they weren’t even admitted into the kitchen. I am asleep, I am dreaming! It is all fancy, it is the work of your imagination plunged in the darkness of ignorance picks up keys, smiling fondly. She threw away the keys; she means to show she’s not the housewife now jingles the keys. Well, no matter. The orchestra is heard tuning up. Hey, musicians! Play! I want to hear you. Come, all of you, and look how Yermolay Lopahin will take the axe to the cherry orchard, how the trees will fall to the ground! We will build houses on it and our grandsons and great-grandsons will see a new life springing up there. Music! Play up!
	Music begins to play. Lyubov Andreyevna* has sunk into a chair and is weeping bitterly.*
Lopahin	Reproachfully. Why, why didn’t you listen to me? My poor friend! Dear lady, there’s no turning back now. With tears. Oh, if all this could be over, oh, if our miserable disjointed life could somehow soon be changed!
Pishtchik	Takes him by the arm, in an undertone. She’s weeping, let us go and leave her alone. Come takes him by the arm and leads him into the larger drawing-room.
Lopahin	What’s that? Musicians, play up! All must be as I wish it. With irony. Here comes the new master, the owner of the cherry orchard! Accidentally tips over a little table, almost upsetting the candelabra. I can pay for everything! Goes out with Pishtchik. No one remains on the stage or in the larger drawing-room except Lyubov, who sits huddled up, weeping bitterly. The music plays softly. Anya and Trofimov come in quickly. Anya goes up to her mother and falls on her knees before her. Trofimov stands at the entrance to the larger drawing-room.
Anya	Mamma! Mamma, you’re crying, dear, kind, good mamma! My precious! I love you! I bless you! The cherry orchard is sold, it is gone, that’s true, that’s true! But don’t weep, mamma! Life is still before you, you have still your good, pure heart! Let us go, let us go, darling, away from here! We will make a new garden, more splendid than this one; you will see it, you will understand. And joy, quiet, deep joy, will sink into your soul like the sun at evening! And you will smile, mamma! Come, darling, let us go!
	Curtain.

Act IV

Scene: Same as in First Act. There are neither curtains on the windows nor pictures on the walls: only a little furniture remains piled up in a corner as if for sale. There is a sense of desolation; near the outer door and in the background of the scene are packed trunks, travelling bags, etc. On the left the door is open, and from here the voices of Varya and Anya are audible. Lopahin is standing waiting. Yasha is holding a tray with glasses full of champagne. In front of the stage Epihodov is tying up a box. In the background behind the scene a hum of talk from the peasants who have come to say goodbye. The voice of Gaev: “Thanks, brothers, thanks!”

Yasha	The peasants have come to say goodbye. In my opinion, Yermolay Alexeyevitch, the peasants are good-natured, but they don’t know much about things.
	The hum of talk dies away. Enter across front of stage Lyubov Andreyevna* and Gaev. She is not weeping, but is pale; her face is quivering—she cannot speak.*
Gaev	You gave them your purse, Lyuba. That won’t do—that won’t do!
Lyubov	I couldn’t help it! I couldn’t help it!
	Both go out.
Lopahin	In the doorway, calls after them. You will take a glass at parting? Please do. I didn’t think to bring any from the town, and at the station I could only get one bottle. Please take a glass a pause. What? You don’t care for any? Comes away from the door. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bought it. Well, and I’m not going to drink it. Yasha carefully sets the tray down on a chair. You have a glass, Yasha, anyway.
Yasha	Good luck to the travellers, and luck to those that stay behind! Drinks. This champagne isn’t the real thing, I can assure you.
Lopahin	It cost eight roubles the bottle a pause. It’s devilish cold here.
Yasha	They haven’t heated the stove today—it’s all the same since we’re going laughs.
Lopahin	What are you laughing for?
Yasha	For pleasure.
Lopahin	Though it’s October, it’s as still and sunny as though it were summer. It’s just right for building! Looks at his watch; says in doorway. Take note, ladies and gentlemen, the train goes in forty-seven minutes; so you ought to start for the station in twenty minutes. You must hurry up!
	Trofimov comes in from out of doors wearing a greatcoat.
Trofimov	I think it must be time to start, the horses are ready. The devil only knows what’s become of my goloshes; they’re lost. In the doorway. Anya! My goloshes aren’t here. I can’t find them.
Lopahin	And I’m getting off to Harkov. I am going in the same train with you. I’m spending all the winter at Harkov. I’ve been wasting all my time gossiping with you and fretting with no work to do. I can’t get on without work. I don’t know what to do with my hands, they flap about so queerly, as if they didn’t belong to me.
Trofimov	Well, we’re just going away, and you will take up your profitable labours again.
Lopahin	Do take a glass.
Trofimov	No, thanks.
Lopahin	Then you’re going to Moscow now?
Trofimov	Yes. I shall see them as far as the town, and tomorrow I shall go on to Moscow.
Lopahin	Yes, I daresay, the professors aren’t giving any lectures, they’re waiting for your arrival.
Trofimov	That’s not your business.
Lopahin	How many years have you been at the University?
Trofimov	Do think of something newer than that—that’s stale and flat hunts for goloshes. You know we shall most likely never see each other again, so let me give you one piece of advice at parting: don’t wave your arms about—get out of the habit. And another thing, building villas, reckoning up that the summer visitors will in time become independent farmers—reckoning like that, that’s not the thing to do either. After all, I am fond of you: you have fine delicate fingers like an artist, you’ve a fine delicate soul.
Lopahin	Embraces him. Goodbye, my dear fellow. Thanks for everything. Let me give you money for the journey, if you need it.
Trofimov	What for? I don’t need it.
Lopahin	Why, you haven’t got a halfpenny.
Trofimov	Yes, I have, thank you. I got some money for a translation. Here it is in my pocket, anxiously but where can my goloshes be!
Varya	From the next room. Take the nasty things! Flings a pair of goloshes on to the stage.
Trofimov	Why are you so cross, Varya? h’m! … but those aren’t my goloshes.
Lopahin	I sowed three thousand acres with poppies in the spring, and now I have cleared forty thousand profit. And when my poppies were in flower, wasn’t it a picture! So here, as I say, I made forty thousand, and I’m offering you a loan because I can afford to. Why turn up your nose? I am a peasant—I speak bluntly.
Trofimov	Your father was a peasant, mine was a chemist—and that proves absolutely nothing whatever. Lopahin takes out his pocketbook. Stop that—stop that. If you were to offer me two hundred thousand I wouldn’t take it. I am an independent man, and everything that all of you, rich and poor alike, prize so highly and hold so dear, hasn’t the slightest power over me—it’s like so much fluff fluttering in the air. I can get on without you. I can pass by you. I am strong and proud. Humanity is advancing towards the highest truth, the highest happiness, which is possible on earth, and I am in the front ranks.
Lopahin	Will you get there?
Trofimov	I shall get there a pause. I shall get there, or I shall show others the way to get there.
	In the distance is heard the stroke of an axe on a tree.
Lopahin	Goodbye, my dear fellow; it’s time to be off. We turn up our noses at one another, but life is passing all the while. When I am working hard without resting, then my mind is more at ease, and it seems to me as though I too know what I exist for; but how many people there are in Russia, my dear boy, who exist, one doesn’t know what for. Well, it doesn’t matter. That’s not what keeps things spinning. They tell me Leonid Andreyevitch has taken a situation. He is going to be a clerk at the bank—6,000 roubles a year. Only, of course, he won’t stick to it—he’s too lazy.
Anya	In the doorway. Mamma begs you not to let them chop down the orchard until she’s gone.
Trofimov	Yes, really, you might have the tact walks out across the front of the stage.
Lopahin	I’ll see to it! I’ll see to it! Stupid fellows! Goes out after him.
Anya	Has Firs been taken to the hospital?
Yasha	I told them this morning. No doubt they have taken him.
Anya	To Epihodov, who passes across the drawing-room. Semyon Pantaleyevitch, inquire, please, if Firs has been taken to the hospital.
Yasha	In a tone of offence. I told Yegor this morning—why ask a dozen times?
Epihodov	Firs is advanced in years. It’s my conclusive opinion no treatment would do him good; it’s time he was gathered to his fathers. And I can only envy him puts a trunk down on a cardboard hatbox and crushes it. There, now, of course—I knew it would be so.
Yasha	Jeeringly. Two and twenty misfortunes!
Varya	Through the door. Has Firs been taken to the hospital?
Anya	Yes.
Varya	Why wasn’t the note for the doctor taken too?
Anya	Oh, then, we must send it after them goes out.
Varya	From the adjoining room. Where’s Yasha? Tell him his mother’s come to say goodbye to him.
Yasha	Waves his hand. They put me out of all patience! Dunyasha has all this time been busy about the luggage. Now, when Yasha is left alone, she goes up to him.
Dunyasha	You might just give me one look, Yasha. You’re going away. You’re leaving me weeps and throws herself on his neck.
Yasha	What are you crying for? Drinks the champagne. In six days I shall be in Paris again. Tomorrow we shall get into the express train and roll away in a flash. I can scarcely believe it! Vive la France! It doesn’t suit me here—it’s not the life for me; there’s no doing anything. I have seen enough of the ignorance here. I have had enough of it drinks champagne. What are you crying for? Behave yourself properly, and then you won’t cry.
Dunyasha	Powders her face, looking in a pocket-mirror. Do send me a letter from Paris. You know how I loved you, Yasha—how I loved you! I am a tender creature, Yasha.
Yasha	Here they are coming!
	Busies himself about the trunks, humming softly. Enter Lyubov Andreyevna, Gaev, Anya* and Charlotta Ivanovna.*
Gaev	We ought to be off. There’s not much time now looking at Yasha. What a smell of herrings!
Lyubov	In ten minutes we must get into the carriage casts a look about the room. Farewell, dear house, dear old home of our fathers! Winter will pass and spring will come, and then you will be no more; they will tear you down! How much those walls have seen! Kisses her daughter passionately. My treasure, how bright you look! Your eyes are sparkling like diamonds! Are you glad? Very glad?
Anya	Very glad! A new life is beginning, mamma.
Gaev	Yes, really, everything is all right now. Before the cherry orchard was sold, we were all worried and wretched, but afterwards, when once the question was settled conclusively, irrevocably, we all felt calm and even cheerful. I am a bank clerk now—I am a financier—cannon off the red. And you, Lyuba, after all, you are looking better; there’s no question of that.
Lyubov	Yes. My nerves are better, that’s true. Her hat and coat are handed to her. I’m sleeping well. Carry out my things, Yasha. It’s time. To Anya. My darling, we shall soon see each other again. I am going to Paris. I can live there on the money your Yaroslavl auntie sent us to buy the estate with—hurrah for auntie!—but that money won’t last long.
Anya	You’ll come back soon, mamma, won’t you? I’ll be working up for my examination in the high school, and when I have passed that, I shall set to work and be a help to you. We will read all sorts of things together, mamma, won’t we? Kisses her mother’s hands. We will read in the autumn evenings. We’ll read lots of books, and a new wonderful world will open out before us dreamily. Mamma, come soon.
Lyubov	I shall come, my precious treasure embraces her.
	Enter Lopahin. Charlotta* softly hums a song.*
Gaev	Charlotta’s happy; she’s singing!
Charlotta	Picks up a bundle like a swaddled baby. Bye, bye, my baby. A baby is heard crying: “Ooah! ooah!” Hush, hush, my pretty boy! Ooah! ooah! Poor little thing! Throws the bundle back. You must please find me a situation. I can’t go on like this.
Lopahin	We’ll find you one, Charlotta Ivanovna. Don’t you worry yourself.
Gaev	Everyone’s leaving us. Varya’s going away. We have become of no use all at once.
Charlotta	There’s nowhere for me to be in the town. I must go away. Hums. What care I …
	Enter Pishtchik.
Lopahin	The freak of nature!
Pishtchik	Gasping. Oh! … let me get my breath. … I’m worn out … my most honoured … Give me some water.
Gaev	Want some money, I suppose? Your humble servant! I’ll go out of the way of temptation goes out.
Pishtchik	It’s a long while since I have been to see you … dearest lady. To Lopahin. You are here … glad to see you … a man of immense intellect … take … here gives Lopahin* money* 400 roubles. That leaves me owing 840.
Lopahin	Shrugging his shoulders in amazement. It’s like a dream. Where did you get it?
Pishtchik	Wait a bit … I’m hot … a most extraordinary occurrence! Some Englishmen came along and found in my land some sort of white clay. To Lyubov Andreyevna. And 400 for you … most lovely … wonderful gives money. The rest later sips water. A young man in the train was telling me just now that a great philosopher advises jumping off a housetop. “Jump!” says he; “the whole gist of the problem lies in that.” Wonderingly. Fancy that, now! Water, please!
Lopahin	What Englishmen?
Pishtchik	I have made over to them the rights to dig the clay for twenty-four years … and now, excuse me … I can’t stay … I must be trotting on. I’m going to Znoikovo … to Kardamanovo. … I’m in debt all round sips. … To your very good health! … I’ll come in on Thursday.
Lyubov	We are just off to the town, and tomorrow I start for abroad.
Pishtchik	What! In agitation. Why to the town? Oh, I see the furniture … the boxes. No matter … through his tears … no matter … men of enormous intellect … these Englishmen. … Never mind … be happy. God will succour you … no matter … everything in this world must have an end kisses Lyubov Andreyevna’s* hand. If the rumour reaches you that my end has come, think of this … old horse, and say: “There once was such a man in the world … Semyonov-Pishtchik … the kingdom of heaven be his!” … most extraordinary weather … yes. Goes out in violent agitation, but at once returns and says in the doorway.* Dashenka wishes to be remembered to you goes out.
Lyubov	Now we can start. I leave with two cares in my heart. The first is leaving Firs ill. Looking at her watch. We have still five minutes.
Anya	Mamma, Firs has been taken to the hospital. Yasha sent him off this morning.
Lyubov	My other anxiety is Varya. She is used to getting up early and working; and now, without work, she’s like a fish out of water. She is thin and pale, and she’s crying, poor dear! A pause. You are well aware, Yermolay Alexeyevitch, I dreamed of marrying her to you, and everything seemed to show that you would get married whispers to Anya* and motions to Charlotta and both go out*. She loves you—she suits you. And I don’t know—I don’t know why it is you seem, as it were, to avoid each other. I can’t understand it!
Lopahin	I don’t understand it myself, I confess. It’s queer somehow, altogether. If there’s still time, I’m ready now at once. Let’s settle it straight off, and go ahead; but without you, I feel I shan’t make her an offer.
Lyubov	That’s excellent. Why, a single moment’s all that’s necessary. I’ll call her at once.
Lopahin	And there’s champagne all ready too looking into the glasses. Empty! Someone’s emptied them already. Yasha coughs. I call that greedy.
Lyubov	Eagerly. Capital! We will go out. Yasha, allez! I’ll call her in. At the door. Varya, leave all that; come here. Come along! Goes out with Yasha.
Lopahin	Looking at his watch. Yes.
	A pause. Behind the door, smothered laughter and whispering, and, at last, enter Varya.
Varya	Looking a long while over the things. It is strange, I can’t find it anywhere.
Lopahin	What are you looking for?
Varya	I packed it myself, and I can’t remember a pause.
Lopahin	Where are you going now, Varvara Mihailova?
Varya	I? To the Ragulins. I have arranged to go to them to look after the house—as a housekeeper.
Lopahin	That’s in Yashnovo? It’ll be seventy miles away a pause. So this is the end of life in this house!
Varya	Looking among the things. Where is it? Perhaps I put it in the trunk. Yes, life in this house is over—there will be no more of it.
Lopahin	And I’m just off to Harkov—by this next train. I’ve a lot of business there. I’m leaving Epihodov here, and I’ve taken him on.
Varya	Really!
Lopahin	This time last year we had snow already, if you remember; but now it’s so fine and sunny. Though it’s cold, to be sure—three degrees of frost.
Varya	I haven’t looked a pause. And besides, our thermometer’s broken a pause.
	Voice at the door from the yard: “Yermolay Alexeyevitch!”
Lopahin	As though he had long been expecting this summons. This minute!
	Lopahin goes out quickly. Varya sitting on the floor and laying her head on a bag full of clothes, sobs quietly. The door opens. Lyubov Andreyevna comes in cautiously.
Lyubov	Well? A pause. We must be going.
Varya	Has wiped her eyes and is no longer crying. Yes, mamma, it’s time to start. I shall have time to get to the Ragulins today, if only you’re not late for the train.
Lyubov	In the doorway. Anya, put your things on.
	Enter Anya, then Gaev* and Charlotta Ivanovna. Gaev has on a warm coat with a hood. Servants and cabmen come in. Epihodov bustles about the luggage.*
Lyubov	Now we can start on our travels.
Anya	Joyfully. On our travels!
Gaev	My friends—my dear, my precious friends! Leaving this house forever, can I be silent? Can I refrain from giving utterance at leave-taking to those emotions which now flood all my being?
Anya	Supplicatingly. Uncle!
Varya	Uncle, you mustn’t!
Gaev	Dejectedly. Cannon and into the pocket … I’ll be quiet. …
	Enter Trofimov* and afterwards Lopahin.*
Trofimov	Well, ladies and gentlemen, we must start.
Lopahin	Epihodov, my coat!
Lyubov	I’ll stay just one minute. It seems as though I have never seen before what the walls, what the ceilings in this house were like, and now I look at them with greediness, with such tender love.
Gaev	I remember when I was six years old sitting in that window on Trinity Day watching my father going to church.
Lyubov	Have all the things been taken?
Lopahin	I think all. Putting on overcoat, to Epihodov. You, Epihodov, mind you see everything is right.
Epihodov	In a husky voice. Don’t you trouble, Yermolay Alexeyevitch.
Lopahin	Why, what’s wrong with your voice?
Epihodov	I’ve just had a drink of water, and I choked over something.
Yasha	Contemptuously. The ignorance!
Lyubov	We are going—and not a soul will be left here.
Lopahin	Not till the spring.
Varya	Pulls a parasol out of a bundle, as though about to hit someone with it. Lopahin* makes a gesture as though alarmed.* What is it? I didn’t mean anything.
Trofimov	Ladies and gentlemen, let us get into the carriage. It’s time. The train will be in directly.
Varya	Petya, here they are, your goloshes, by that box. With tears. And what dirty old things they are!
Trofimov	Putting on his goloshes. Let us go, friends!
Gaev	Greatly agitated, afraid of weeping. The train—the station! Double baulk, ah!
Lyubov	Let us go!
Lopahin	Are we all here? Locks the side-door on left. The things are all here. We must lock up. Let us go!
Anya	Goodbye, home! Goodbye to the old life!
Trofimov	Welcome to the new life!
	Trofimov goes out with Anya. Varya looks round the room and goes out slowly. Yasha and Charlotta Ivanovna, with her dog, go out.
Lopahin	Till the spring, then! Come, friends, till we meet! Goes out.
	Lyubov Andreyevna and Gaev remain alone. As though they had been waiting for this, they throw themselves on each other’s necks, and break into subdued smothered sobbing, afraid of being overheard.
Gaev	In despair. Sister, my sister!
Lyubov	Oh, my orchard!—my sweet, beautiful orchard! My life, my youth, my happiness, goodbye! goodbye!
Voice of Anya	Calling gaily. Mamma!
Voice of Trofimov	Gaily, excitedly. Aa‑oo!
Lyubov	One last look at the walls, at the windows. My dear mother loved to walk about this room.
Gaev	Sister, sister!
Voice of Anya	Mamma!
Voice of Trofimov	Aa‑oo!
Lyubov	We are coming. They go out.
	The stage is empty. There is the sound of the doors being locked up, then of the carriages driving away. There is silence. In the stillness there is the dull stroke of an axe in a tree, clanging with a mournful lonely sound. Footsteps are heard. Firs appears in the doorway on the right. He is dressed as always—in a pea-jacket and white waistcoat, with slippers on his feet. He is ill.
Firs	Goes up to the doors, and tries the handles. Locked! They have gone … sits down on sofa. They have forgotten me. … Never mind … I’ll sit here a bit. … I’ll be bound Leonid Andreyevitch hasn’t put his fur coat on and has gone off in his thin overcoat sighs anxiously. I didn’t see after him. … These young people … mutters something that can’t be distinguished. Life has slipped by as though I hadn’t lived. Lies down. I’ll lie down a bit. … There’s no strength in you, nothing left you—all gone! Ech! I’m good for nothing lies motionless.
	A sound is heard that seems to come from the sky, like a breaking harp-string, dying away mournfully. All is still again, and there is heard nothing but the strokes of the axe far away in the orchard.
	Curtain.

Characters in the Play

Madame Ranevsky (Lyubov Andreyevna) (the owner of the Cherry Orchard)

Anya (her daughter, aged 17)

Varya (her adopted daughter, aged 24)

Gaev (Leonid Andreyevitch) (brother of Madame Ranevsky)

Lopahin (Yermolay Alexeyevitch) (a Merchant)

Trofimov (Pyotr Sergeyevitch) (a Student)

Semyonov-Pishtchik (a Landowner)

Charlotta Ivanovna (a Governess)

Epihodov (Semyon Pantaleyevitch) (a Clerk)

Dunyasha (a Maid)

Firs (an old Valet, aged 87)

Yasha (a young Valet)

A Vagrant

The Station Master

A Post-Office Clerk

Visitors, Servants

The action takes place on the estate of Madame Ranevsky.

Act I

Enter Dunyasha with a candle and Lopahin with a book in his hand.

Lopahin

The train’s in, thank God. What time is it?

Dunyasha

Nearly two o’clock puts out the candle. It’s daylight already.

Lopahin

The train’s late! Two hours, at least yawns and stretches. I’m a pretty one; what a fool I’ve been. Came here on purpose to meet them at the station and dropped asleep. … Dozed off as I sat in the chair. It’s annoying. … You might have waked me.

Dunyasha

I thought you had gone listens. There, I do believe they’re coming!

Lopahin

Listens. No, what with the luggage and one thing and another a pause. Lyubov Andreyevna has been abroad five years; I don’t know what she is like now. … She’s a splendid woman. A good-natured, kindhearted woman. I remember when I was a lad of fifteen, my poor father—he used to keep a little shop here in the village in those days—gave me a punch in the face with his fist and made my nose bleed. We were in the yard here, I forget what we’d come about—he had had a drop. Lyubov Andreyevna—I can see her now—she was a slim young girl then—took me to wash my face, and then brought me into this very room, into the nursery. “Don’t cry, little peasant,” says she, “it will be well in time for your wedding day” … a pause. Little peasant. … My father was a peasant, it’s true, but here am I in a white waistcoat and brown shoes, like a pig in a bun shop. Yes, I’m a rich man, but for all my money, come to think, a peasant I was, and a peasant I am turns over the pages of the book. I’ve been reading this book and I can’t make head or tail of it. I fell asleep over it a pause.

Dunyasha

The dogs have been awake all night, they feel that the mistress is coming.

Lopahin

Why, what’s the matter with you, Dunyasha?

Dunyasha

My hands are all of a tremble. I feel as though I should faint.

Lopahin

You’re a spoilt soft creature, Dunyasha. And dressed like a lady too, and your hair done up. That’s not the thing. One must know one’s place.

Enter Epihodov with a nosegay; he wears a pea-jacket and highly polished creaking top-boots; he drops the nosegay as he comes in.

Epihodov

Picking up the nosegay. Here! the gardener’s sent this, says you’re to put it in the dining-room gives Dunyasha the nosegay.

Lopahin

And bring me some kvass.

Dunyasha

I will goes out.

Epihodov

It’s chilly this morning, three degrees of frost, though the cherries are all in flower. I can’t say much for our climate sighs. I can’t. Our climate is not often propitious to the occasion. Yermolay Alexeyevitch, permit me to call your attention to the fact that I purchased myself a pair of boots the day before yesterday, and they creak, I venture to assure you, so that there’s no tolerating them. What ought I to grease them with?

Lopahin

Oh, shut up! Don’t bother me.

Epihodov

Every day some misfortune befalls me. I don’t complain, I’m used to it, and I wear a smiling face.

Dunyasha comes in, hands Lopahin the kvass.

Epihodov

I am going stumbles against a chair, which falls over. There! As though triumphant. There you see now, excuse the expression, an accident like that among others. … It’s positively remarkable goes out.

Dunyasha

Do you know, Yermolay Alexeyevitch, I must confess, Epihodov has made me a proposal.

Lopahin

Ah!

Dunyasha

I’m sure I don’t know. … He’s a harmless fellow, but sometimes when he begins talking, there’s no making anything of it. It’s all very fine and expressive, only there’s no understanding it. I’ve a sort of liking for him too. He loves me to distraction. He’s an unfortunate man; every day there’s something. They tease him about it—two and twenty misfortunes they call him.

Lopahin

Listening. There! I do believe they’re coming.

Dunyasha

They are coming! What’s the matter with me? … I’m cold all over.

Lopahin

They really are coming. Let’s go and meet them. Will she know me? It’s five years since I saw her.

Dunyasha

In a flutter. I shall drop this very minute. … Ah, I shall drop.

There is a sound of two carriages driving up to the house. Lopahin and Dunyasha go out quickly. The stage is left empty. A noise is heard in the adjoining rooms. Firs, who has driven to meet Madame Ranevsky, crosses the stage hurriedly leaning on a stick. He is wearing old-fashioned livery and a high hat. He says something to himself, but not a word can be distinguished. The noise behind the scenes goes on increasing. A voice: “Come, let’s go in here.” Enter Lyubov Andreyevna, Anya, and Charlotta Ivanonva with a pet dog on a chain, all in travelling dresses, Varya in an outdoor coat with a kerchief over her head, Gaev, Semyonov-Pishtchik, Lopahin, Dunyasha with bag and parasol, servants with other articles. All walk across the room.

Anya

Let’s come in here. Do you remember what room this is, mamma?

Lyubov

Joyfully, through her tears. The nursery!

Varya

How cold it is, my hands are numb. To Lyubov Andreyevna. Your rooms, the white room and the lavender one, are just the same as ever, mamma.

Lyubov

My nursery, dear delightful room. … I used to sleep here when I was little … cries. And here I am, like a little child … kisses her brother and Varya, and then her brother again. Varya’s just the same as ever, like a nun. And I knew Dunyasha kisses Dunyasha.

Gaev

The train was two hours late. What do you think of that? Is that the way to do things?

Charlotta

To Pishtchik. My dog eats nuts, too.

Pishtchik

Wonderingly. Fancy that!

They all go out except Anya and Dunyasha.

Dunyasha

We’ve been expecting you so long takes Anya’s hat and coat.

Anya

I haven’t slept for four nights on the journey. I feel dreadfully cold.

Dunyasha

You set out in Lent, there was snow and frost, and now? My darling! Laughs and kisses her. I have missed you, my precious, my joy. I must tell you … I can’t put it off a minute. …

Anya

Wearily. What now?

Dunyasha

Epihodov, the clerk, made me a proposal just after Easter.

Anya

It’s always the same thing with you … straightening her hair. I’ve lost all my hairpins … she is staggering from exhaustion.

Dunyasha

I don’t know what to think, really. He does love me, he does love me so!

Anya

Looking towards her door, tenderly. My own room, my windows just as though I had never gone away. I’m home! Tomorrow morning I shall get up and run into the garden. … Oh, if I could get to sleep! I haven’t slept all the journey, I was so anxious and worried.

Dunyasha

Pyotr Sergeyevitch came the day before yesterday.

Anya

Joyfully. Petya!

Dunyasha

He’s asleep in the bath house, he has settled in there. I’m afraid of being in their way, says he. Glancing at her watch. I was to have waked him, but Varvara Mihalovna told me not to. Don’t you wake him, says she.

Enter Varya with a bunch of keys at her waist.

Varya

Dunyasha, coffee and make haste. … Mamma’s asking for coffee.

Dunyasha

This very minute goes out.

Varya

Well, thank God, you’ve come. You’re home again petting her. My little darling has come back! My precious beauty has come back again!

Anya

I have had a time of it!

Varya

I can fancy!

Anya

We set off in Holy Week—it was so cold then, and all the way Charlotta would talk and show off her tricks. What did you want to burden me with Charlotta for?

Varya

You couldn’t have travelled all alone, darling. At seventeen!

Anya

We got to Paris at last, it was cold there—snow. I speak French shockingly. Mamma lives on the fifth floor, I went up to her, and there were a lot of French people, ladies, an old priest with a book. The place smelt of tobacco and so comfortless. I felt sorry, oh! so sorry for mamma all at once, I put my arms round her neck, and hugged her and wouldn’t let her go. Mamma was as kind as she could be, and she cried. …

Varya

Through her tears. Don’t speak of it, don’t speak of it!

Anya

She had sold her villa at Mentone, she had nothing left, nothing. I hadn’t a farthing left either, we only just had enough to get here. And mamma doesn’t understand! When we had dinner at the stations, she always ordered the most expensive things and gave the waiters a whole rouble. Charlotta’s just the same. Yasha too must have the same as we do; it’s simply awful. You know Yasha is mamma’s valet now, we brought him here with us.

Varya

Yes, I’ve seen the young rascal.

Anya

Well, tell me—have you paid the arrears on the mortgage?

Varya

How could we get the money?

Anya

Oh, dear! Oh, dear!

Varya

In August the place will be sold.

Anya

My goodness!

Lopahin

Peeps in at the door and moo’s like a cow. Moo! Disappears.

Varya

Weeping. There, that’s what I could do to him shakes her fist.

Anya

Embracing Varya, softly. Varya, has he made you an offer? Varya shakes her head. Why, but he loves you. Why is it you don’t come to an understanding? What are you waiting for?

Varya

I believe that there never will be anything between us. He has a lot to do, he has no time for me … and takes no notice of me. Bless the man, it makes me miserable to see him. … Everyone’s talking of our being married, everyone’s congratulating me, and all the while there’s really nothing in it; it’s all like a dream. In another tone. You have a new brooch like a bee.

Anya

Mournfully. Mamma bought it. Goes into her own room and in a lighthearted childish tone. And you know, in Paris I went up in a balloon!

Varya

My darling’s home again! My pretty is home again!

Dunyasha returns with the coffeepot and is making the coffee.

Varya

Standing at the door. All day long, darling, as I go about looking after the house, I keep dreaming all the time. If only we could marry you to a rich man, then I should feel more at rest. Then I would go off by myself on a pilgrimage to Kiev, to Moscow … and so I would spend my life going from one holy place to another. … I would go on and on. … What bliss!

Anya

The birds are singing in the garden. What time is it?

Varya

It must be nearly three. It’s time you were asleep, darling going into Anya’s room. What bliss!

Yasha enters with a rug and a travelling bag.

Yasha

Crosses the stage, mincingly. May one come in here, pray?

Dunyasha

I shouldn’t have known you, Yasha. How you have changed abroad.

Yasha

H’m! … And who are you?

Dunyasha

When you went away, I was that high shows distance from floor. Dunyasha, Fyodor’s daughter. … You don’t remember me!

Yasha

H’m! … You’re a peach! Looks round and embraces her: she shrieks and drops a saucer. Yasha goes out hastily.

Varya

In the doorway, in a tone of vexation. What now?

Dunyasha

Through her tears. I have broken a saucer.

Varya

Well, that brings good luck.

Anya

Coming out of her room. We ought to prepare mamma: Petya is here.

Varya

I told them not to wake him.

Anya

Dreamily. It’s six years since father died. Then only a month later little brother Grisha was drowned in the river, such a pretty boy he was, only seven. It was more than mamma could bear, so she went away, went away without looking back shuddering. … How well I understand her, if only she knew! A pause. And Petya Trofimov was Grisha’s tutor, he may remind her.

Enter Firs: he is wearing a pea-jacket and a white waistcoat.

Firs

Goes up to the coffe-pot, anxiously. The mistress will be served here puts on white gloves. Is the coffee ready? Sternly to Dunyasha. Girl! Where’s the cream?

Dunyasha

Ah, mercy on us! Goes out quickly.

Firs

Fussing round the coffeepot. Ech! you good-for-nothing! Muttering to himself. Come back from Paris. And the old master used to go to Paris too … horses all the way laughs.

Varya

What is it, Firs?

Firs

What is your pleasure? Gleefully. My lady has come home! I have lived to see her again! Now I can die weeps with joy.

Enter Lyubov Andreyevna, Gaev and Semyonov-Pishtchik; the latter is in a short-waisted full coat of fine cloth, and full trousers. Gaev, as he comes in, makes a gesture with his arms and his whole body, as though he were playing billiards.

Lyubov

How does it go? Let me remember. Cannon off the red!

Gaev

That’s it—in off the white! Why, once, sister, we used to sleep together in this very room, and now I’m fifty-one, strange as it seems.

Lopahin

Yes, time flies.

Gaev

What do you say?

Lopahin

Time, I say, flies.

Gaev

What a smell of patchouli!

Anya

I’m going to bed. Good night, mamma kisses her mother.

Lyubov

My precious darling kisses her hands. Are you glad to be home? I can’t believe it.

Anya

Good night, uncle.

Gaev

Kissing her face and hands. God bless you! How like you are to your mother! To his sister. At her age you were just the same, Lyuba.

Anya shakes hands with Lopahin and Pishtchik, then goes out, shutting the door after her.

Lyubov

She’s quite worn out.

Pishtchik

Aye, it’s a long journey, to be sure.

Varya

To Lopahin and Pishtchik. Well, gentlemen? It’s three o’clock and time to say goodbye.

Lyubov

Laughs. You’re just the same as ever, Varya draws her to her and kisses her. I’ll just drink my coffee and then we will all go and rest. Firs puts a cushion under her feet. Thanks, friend. I am so fond of coffee, I drink it day and night. Thanks, dear old man kisses Firs.

Varya

I’ll just see whether all the things have been brought in goes out.

Lyubov

Can it really be me sitting here? Laughs. I want to dance about and clap my hands. Covers her face with her hands. And I could drop asleep in a moment! God knows I love my country, I love it tenderly; I couldn’t look out of the window in the train, I kept crying so. Through her tears. But I must drink my coffee, though. Thank you, Firs, thanks, dear old man. I’m so glad to find you still alive.

Firs

The day before yesterday.

Gaev

He’s rather deaf.

Lopahin

I have to set off for Harkov directly, at five o’clock. … It is annoying! I wanted to have a look at you, and a little talk. … You are just as splendid as ever.

Pishtchik

Breathing heavily. Handsomer, indeed. … Dressed in Parisian style … completely bowled me over.

Lopahin

Your brother, Leonid Andreyevitch here, is always saying that I’m a lowborn knave, that I’m a moneygrubber, but I don’t care one straw for that. Let him talk. Only I do want you to believe in me as you used to. I do want your wonderful tender eyes to look at me as they used to in the old days. Merciful God! My father was a serf of your father and of your grandfather, but you—you—did so much for me once, that I’ve forgotten all that; I love you as though you were my kin … more than my kin.

Lyubov

I can’t sit still, I simply can’t … jumps up and walks about in violent agitation. This happiness is too much for me. … You may laugh at me, I know I’m silly. … My own bookcase kisses the bookcase. My little table.

Gaev

Nurse died while you were away.

Lyubov

Sits down and drinks coffee. Yes, the Kingdom of Heaven be hers! You wrote me of her death.

Gaev

And Anastasy is dead. Squinting Petrushka has left me and is in service now with the police captain in the town takes a box of caramels out of his pocket and sucks one.

Pishtchik

My daughter, Dashenka, wishes to be remembered to you.

Lopahin

I want to tell you something very pleasant and cheering glancing at his watch. I’m going directly … there’s no time to say much … well, I can say it in a couple of words. I needn’t tell you your cherry orchard is to be sold to pay your debts; the 22nd of August is the date fixed for the sale; but don’t you worry, dearest lady, you may sleep in peace, there is a way of saving it. … This is what I propose. I beg your attention! Your estate is not twenty miles from the town, the railway runs close by it, and if the cherry orchard and the land along the river bank were cut up into building plots and then let on lease for summer villas, you would make an income of at least 25,000 roubles a year out of it.

Gaev

That’s all rot, if you’ll excuse me.

Lyubov

I don’t quite understand you, Yermolay Alexeyevitch.

Lopahin

You will get a rent of at least twenty-five roubles a year for a three-acre plot from summer visitors, and if you say the word now, I’ll bet you what you like there won’t be one square foot of ground vacant by the autumn, all the plots will be taken up. I congratulate you; in fact, you are saved. It’s a perfect situation with that deep river. Only, of course, it must be cleared—all the old buildings, for example, must be removed, this house too, which is really good for nothing, and the old cherry orchard must be cut down.

Lyubov

Cut down? My dear fellow, forgive me, but you don’t know what you are talking about. If there is one thing interesting—remarkable indeed—in the whole province, it’s just our cherry orchard.

Lopahin

The only thing remarkable about the orchard is that it’s a very large one. There’s a crop of cherries every alternate year, and then there’s nothing to be done with them, no one buys them.

Gaev

This orchard is mentioned in the Encyclopaedia.

Lopahin

Glancing at his watch. If we don’t decide on something and don’t take some steps, on the 22nd of August the cherry orchard and the whole estate too will be sold by auction. Make up your minds! There is no other way of saving it, I’ll take my oath on that. No, no!

Firs

In old days, forty or fifty years ago, they used to dry the cherries, soak them, pickle them, make jam too, and they used—

Gaev

Be quiet, Firs.

Firs

And they used to send the preserved cherries to Moscow and to Harkov by the wagon-load. That brought the money in! And the preserved cherries in those days were soft and juicy, sweet and fragrant. … They knew the way to do them then. …

Lyubov

And where is the recipe now?

Firs

It’s forgotten. Nobody remembers it.

Pishtchik

To Lyubov Andreyevna. What’s it like in Paris? Did you eat frogs there?

Lyubov

Oh, I ate crocodiles.

Pishtchik

Fancy that now!

Lopahin

There used to be only the gentlefolks and the peasants in the country, but now there are these summer visitors. All the towns, even the small ones, are surrounded nowadays by these summer villas. And one may say for sure, that in another twenty years there’ll be many more of these people and that they’ll be everywhere. At present the summer visitor only drinks tea in his verandah, but maybe he’ll take to working his bit of land too, and then your cherry orchard would become happy, rich and prosperous. …

Gaev

Indignant. What rot!

Enter Varya and Yasha.

Varya

There are two telegrams for you, mamma takes out keys and opens an old-fashioned bookcase with a loud crack. Here they are.

Lyubov

From Paris tears the telegrams, without reading them. I have done with Paris.

Gaev

Do you know, Lyuba, how old that bookcase is? Last week I pulled out the bottom drawer and there I found the date branded on it. The bookcase was made just a hundred years ago. What do you say to that? We might have celebrated its jubilee. Though it’s an inanimate object, still it is a book case.

Pishtchik

Amazed. A hundred years! Fancy that now.

Gaev

Yes. … It is a thing … feeling the bookcase. Dear, honoured, bookcase! Hail to thee who for more than a hundred years hast served the pure ideals of good and justice; thy silent call to fruitful labour has never flagged in those hundred years, maintaining in tears in the generations of man, courage and faith in a brighter future and fostering in us ideals of good and social consciousness a pause.

Lopahin

Yes. …

Lyubov

You are just the same as ever, Leonid.

Gaev

A little embarassed. Cannon off the right into the pocket!

Lopahin

Looking at his watch. Well, it’s time I was off.

Yasha

Handing Lyubov Andreyevna medicine. Perhaps you will take your pills now.

Pishtchik

You shouldn’t take medicines, my dear madam … they do no harm and no good. Give them here … honoured lady takes the pillbox, pours the pills into the hollow of his hand, blows on them, puts them in his mouth and drinks off some kvass. There!

Lyubov

In alarm. Why, you must be out of your mind!

Pishtchik

I have taken all the pills.

Lopahin

What a glutton! All laugh.

Firs

His honour stayed with us in Easter week, ate a gallon and a half of cucumbers … mutters.

Lyubov

What is he saying?

Varya

He has taken to muttering like that for the last three years. We are used to it.

Yasha

His declining years!

Charlotta Ivanovna, a very thin, lanky figure in a white dress with a lorgnette in her belt, walks across the stage.

Lopahin

I beg your pardon, Charlotta Ivanovna, I have not had time to greet you tries to kiss her hand.

Charlotta

Pulling away her hand. If I let you kiss my hand, you’ll be wanting to kiss my elbow, and then my shoulder.

Lopahin

I’ve no luck today! All laugh. Charlotta Ivanovna, show us some tricks!

Lyubov

Charlotta, do show us some tricks!

Charlotta

I don’t want to. I’m sleepy goes out.

Lopahin

In three weeks’ time we shall meet again kisses Lyubov Andreyevna’s hand. Goodbye till then—I must go. To Gaev. Goodbye. Kisses Pishtchik. Goodbye. Gives his hand to Varya, then to Firs and Yasha. I don’t want to go. To Lyubov Andreyevna. If you think over my plan for the villas and make up your mind, then let me know; I will lend you 50,000 roubles. Think of it seriously.

Varya

Angrily. Well, do go, for goodness sake.

Lopahin

I’m going, I’m going goes out.

Gaev

Lowborn knave! I beg pardon, though … Varya is going to marry him, he’s Varya’s fiancé.

Varya

Don’t talk nonsense, uncle.

Lyubov

Well, Varya, I shall be delighted. He’s a good man.

Pishtchik

He is, one must acknowledge, a most worthy man. And my Dashenka … says too that … she says … various things snores, but at once wakes up. But all the same, honoured lady, could you oblige me … with a loan of 240 roubles … to pay the interest on my mortgage tomorrow?

Varya

Dismayed. No, no.

Lyubov

I really haven’t any money.

Pishtchik

It will turn up laughs. I never lose hope. I thought everything was over, I was a ruined man, and lo and behold—the railway passed through my land and … they paid me for it. And something else will turn up again, if not today, then tomorrow … Dashenka’ll win two hundred thousand … she’s got a lottery ticket.

Lyubov

Well, we’ve finished our coffee, we can go to bed.

Firs

Brushes Gaev, reprovingly. You have got on the wrong trousers again! What am I to do with you?

Varya

Softly. Anya’s asleep. Softly opens the window. Now the sun’s risen, it’s not a bit cold. Look, mamma, what exquisite trees! My goodness! And the air! The starlings are singing!

Gaev

Opens another window. The orchard is all white. You’ve not forgotten it, Lyuba? That long avenue that runs straight, straight as an arrow, how it shines on a moonlight night. You remember? You’ve not forgotten?

Lyubov

Looking out of the window into the garden. Oh, my childhood, my innocence! It was in this nursery I used to sleep, from here I looked out into the orchard, happiness waked with me every morning and in those days the orchard was just the same, nothing has changed laughs with delight. All, all white! Oh, my orchard! After the dark gloomy autumn, and the cold winter; you are young again, and full of happiness, the heavenly angels have never left you. … If I could cast off the burden that weighs on my heart, if I could forget the past!

Gaev

H’m! and the orchard will be sold to pay our debts; it seems strange. …

Lyubov

See, our mother walking … all in white, down the avenue! Laughs with delight. It is she!

Gaev

Where?

Varya

Oh, don’t, mamma!

Lyubov

There is no one. It was my fancy. On the right there, by the path to the arbour, there is a white tree bending like a woman. …

Enter Trofimov wearing a shabby student’s uniform and spectacles.

Lyubov

What a ravishing orchard! White masses of blossom, blue sky. …

Trofimov

Lyubov Andreyevna! She looks round at him. I will just pay my respects to you and then leave you at once kisses her hand warmly. I was told to wait until morning, but I hadn’t the patience to wait any longer. …

Lyubov Andreyevna looks at him in perplexity.

Varya

Through her tears. This is Petya Trofimov.

Trofimov

Petya Trofimov, who was your Grisha’s tutor. … Can I have changed so much?

Lyubov Andreyevna embraces him and weeps quietly.

Gaev

In confusion. There, there, Lyuba.

Varya

Crying. I told you, Petya, to wait till tomorrow.

Lyubov

My Grisha … my boy … Grisha … my son!

Varya

We can’t help it, mamma, it is God’s will.

Trofimov

Softly through his tears. There … there.

Lyubov

Weeping quietly. My boy was lost … drowned. Why? Oh, why, dear Petya? More quietly. Anya is asleep in there, and I’m talking loudly … making this noise. … But, Petya? Why have you grown so ugly? Why do you look so old?

Trofimov

A peasant-woman in the train called me a mangy-looking gentleman.

Lyubov

You were quite a boy then, a pretty little student, and now your hair’s thin—and spectacles. Are you really a student still? Goes towards the door.

Trofimov

I seem likely to be a perpetual student.

Lyubov

Kisses her brother, then Varya. Well, go to bed. … You are older too, Leonid.

Pishtchik

Follows her. I suppose it’s time we were asleep. … Ugh! my gout. I’m staying the night; Lyubov Andreyevna, my dear soul, if you could … tomorrow morning … 240 roubles.

Gaev

That’s always his story.

Pishtchik

240 roubles … to pay the interest on my mortgage.

Lyubov

My dear man, I have no money.

Pishtchik

I’ll pay it back, my dear … a trifling sum.

Lyubov

Oh, well, Leonid will give it you. … You give him the money, Leonid.

Gaev

Me give it him! Let him wait till he gets it!

Lyubov

It can’t be helped, give it him. He needs it. He’ll pay it back.

Lyubov Andreyevna, Trofimov, Pishtchik and Firs go out. Gaev, Varya and Yasha remain.

Gaev

Sister hasn’t got out of the habit of flinging away her money. To Yasha. Get away, my good fellow, you smell of the henhouse.

Yasha

With a grin. And you, Leonid Andreyevitch, are just the same as ever.

Gaev

What’s that? To Varya. What did he say?

Varya

To Yasha. Your mother has come from the village; she has been sitting in the servants’ room since yesterday, waiting to see you.

Yasha

Oh, bother her!

Varya

For shame!

Yasha

What’s the hurry? She might just as have come tomorrow goes out.

Varya

Mamma’s just the same as ever, she hasn’t changed a bit. If she had her own way, she’d give away everything.

Gaev

Yes a pause. If a great many remedies are suggested for some disease, it means that the disease is incurable. I keep thinking and racking my brains; I have many schemes, a great many, and that really means none. If we could only come in for a legacy from somebody, or marry our Anya to a very rich man, or we might go to Yaroslavl and try our luck with our old aunt, the Countess. She’s very, very rich, you know.

Varya

Weeps. If God would help us.

Gaev

Don’t blubber. Aunt’s very rich, but she doesn’t like us. First, sister married a lawyer instead of a nobleman. …

Anya appears in the doorway.

Gaev

And then her conduct, one can’t call it virtuous. She is good, and kind, and nice, and I love her, but, however one allows for extenuating circumstances, there’s no denying that she’s an immoral woman. One feels it in her slightest gesture.

Varya

In a whisper. Anya’s in the doorway.

Gaev

What do you say? A pause. It’s queer, there seems to be something wrong with my right eye. I don’t see as well as I did. And on Thursday when I was in the district Court …

Enter Anya.

Varya

Why aren’t you asleep, Anya?

Anya

I can’t get to sleep.

Gaev

My pet kisses Anya’s face and hands. My child weeps. You are not my niece, you are my angel, you are everything to me. Believe me, believe …

Anya

I believe you, uncle. Everyone loves you and respects you … but, uncle dear, you must be silent … simply be silent. What were you saying just now about my mother, about your own sister? What made you say that?

Gaev

Yes, yes … puts his hand over his face. Really, that was awful! My God, save me! And today I made a speech to the bookcase … so stupid! And only when I had finished, I saw how stupid it was.

Varya

It’s true, uncle, you ought to keep quiet. Don’t talk, that’s all.

Anya

If you could keep from talking, it would make things easier for you, too.

Gaev

I won’t speak kisses Anya’s and Varya’s hands. I’ll be silent. Only this is about business. On Thursday I was in the district Court; well, there was a large party of us there and we began talking of one thing and another, and this and that, and do you know, I believe that it will be possible to raise a loan on an I.O.U. to pay the arrears on the mortgage.

Varya

If the Lord would help us!

Gaev

I’m going on Tuesday; I’ll talk of it again. To Varya. Don’t blubber. To Anya. Your mamma will talk to Lopahin; of course, he won’t refuse her. And as soon as you’re rested you shall go to Yaroslavl to the Countess, your great-aunt. So we shall all set to work in three directions at once, and the business is done. We shall pay off arrears, I’m convinced of it puts a caramel in his mouth. I swear on my honour, I swear by anything you like, the estate shan’t be sold excitedly. By my own happiness, I swear it! Here’s my hand on it, call me the basest, vilest of men, if I let it come to an auction! Upon my soul I swear it!

Anya

Her equanimity has returned, she is quite happy. How good you are, uncle, and how clever! Embraces her uncle. I’m at peace now! Quite at peace! I’m happy!

Enter Firs.

Firs

Reproachfully. Leonid Andreyevitch, have you no fear of God? When are you going to bed?

Gaev

Directly, directly. You can go, Firs. I’ll … yes, I will undress myself. Come, children, bye-bye. We’ll go into details tomorrow, but now go to bed kisses Anya and Varya. I’m a man of the eighties. They run down that period, but still I can say I have had to suffer not a little for my convictions in my life. It’s not for nothing that the peasant loves me. One must know the peasant! One must know how …

Anya

At it again, uncle!

Varya

Uncle dear, you’d better be quiet!

Firs

Angrily. Leonid Andreyevitch!

Gaev

I’m coming. I’m coming. Go to bed. Potted the shot—there’s a shot for you! A beauty! Goes out, Firs hobbling after him.

Anya

My mind’s at rest now. I don’t want to go to Yaroslavl, I don’t like my great-aunt, but still my mind’s at rest. Thanks to uncle sits down.

Varya

We must go to bed. I’m going. Something unpleasant happened while you were away. In the old servants’ quarters there are only the old servants, as you know—Efimyushka, Polya and Yevstigney—and Karp too. They began letting stray people in to spend the night—I said nothing. But all at once I heard they had been spreading a report that I gave them nothing but pease pudding to eat. Out of stinginess, you know. … And it was all Yevstigney’s doing. … Very well, I said to myself. … If that’s how it is, I thought, wait a bit. I sent for Yevstigney … yawns. He comes. “How’s this, Yevstigney,” I said, “you could be such a fool as to? …” Looking at Anya. Anitchka! A pause. She’s asleep puts her arm round Anya. Come to bed … come along! Leads her. My darling has fallen asleep! Come … They go.

Far away beyond the orchard a shepherd plays on a pipe. Trofimov crosses the stage and, seeing Varya and Anya, stands still.

Varya

’Sh! She’s asleep, asleep. Come, my own.

Anya

Softly, half asleep. I’m so tired. Still those bells. Uncle … dear … mamma and uncle. …

Varya

Come, my own, come along.

They go into Anya’s room.

Trofimov

Tenderly. My sunshine! My spring!

Curtain.

Act II

Charlotta

Musingly. I haven’t a real passport of my own, and I don’t know how old I am, and I always feel that I’m a young thing. When I was a little girl, my father and mother used to travel about to fairs and give performances—very good ones. And I used to dance salto mortale and all sorts of things. And when papa and mamma died, a German lady took me and had me educated. And so I grew up and became a governess. But where I came from, and who I am, I don’t know. … Who my parents were, very likely they weren’t married … I don’t know takes a cucumber out of her pocket and eats. I know nothing at all a pause. One wants to talk and has no one to talk to … I have nobody.

Epihodov

Plays on the guitar and sings. “What care I for the noisy world! What care I for friends or foes!” How agreeable it is to play on the mandoline!

Dunyasha

That’s a guitar, not a mandoline looks in a hand-mirror and powders herself.

Epihodov

To a man mad with love, it’s a mandoline. Sings. “Were her heart but aglow with love’s mutual flame.” Yasha joins in.

Charlotta

How shockingly these people sing! Foo! Like jackals!

Dunyasha

To Yasha. What happiness, though, to visit foreign lands.

Yasha

Ah, yes! I rather agree with you there yawns, then lights a cigar.

Epihodov

That’s comprehensible. In foreign lands everything has long since reached full complexion.

Yasha

That’s so, of course.

Epihodov

I’m a cultivated man, I read remarkable books of all sorts, but I can never make out the tendency I am myself precisely inclined for, whether to live or to shoot myself, speaking precisely, but nevertheless I always carry a revolver. Here it is … shows revolver.

Charlotta

I’ve had enough, and now I’m going puts on the gun. Epihodov, you’re a very clever fellow, and a very terrible one too, all the women must be wild about you. Br‑r‑r! Goes. These clever fellows are all so stupid; there’s not a creature for me to speak to. … Always alone, alone, nobody belonging to me … and who I am, and why I’m on earth, I don’t know walks away slowly.

Epihodov

Speaking precisely, not touching upon other subjects, I’m bound to admit about myself, that destiny behaves mercilessly to me, as a storm to a little boat. If, let us suppose, I am mistaken, then why did I wake up this morning, to quote an example, and look round, and there on my chest was a spider of fearful magnitude … like this shows with both hands. And then I take up a jug of kvass, to quench my thirst, and in it there is something in the highest degree unseemly of the nature of a cockroach a pause. Have you read Buckle? A pause. I am desirous of troubling you, Dunyasha, with a couple of words.

Dunyasha

Well, speak.

Epihodov

I should be desirous to speak with you alone sighs.

Dunyasha

Embarrassed. Well—only bring me my mantle first. It’s by the cupboard. It’s rather damp here.

Epihodov

Certainly. I will fetch it. Now I know what I must do with my revolver takes guitar and goes off playing on it.

Yasha

Two and twenty misfortunes! Between ourselves, he’s a fool yawns.

Dunyasha

God grant he doesn’t shoot himself! A pause. I am so nervous, I’m always in a flutter. I was a little girl when I was taken into our lady’s house, and now I have quite grown out of peasant ways, and my hands are white, as white as a lady’s. I’m such a delicate, sensitive creature, I’m afraid of everything. I’m so frightened. And if you deceive me, Yasha, I don’t know what will become of my nerves.

Yasha

Kisses her. You’re a peach! Of course a girl must never forget herself; what I dislike more than anything is a girl being flighty in her behaviour.

Dunyasha

I’m passionately in love with you, Yasha; you are a man of culture—you can give your opinion about anything a pause.

Yasha

Yawns. Yes, that’s so. My opinion is this: if a girl loves anyone, that means that she has no principles a pause. It’s pleasant smoking a cigar in the open air listens. Someone’s coming this way … it’s the gentlefolk. Dunyasha embraces him impulsively. Go home, as though you had been to the river to bathe; go by that path, or else they’ll meet you and suppose I have made an appointment with you here. That I can’t endure.

Dunyasha

Coughing softly. The cigar has made my head ache … goes off.

Yasha remains sitting near the shrine. Enter Lyubov Andreyevna, Gaev and Lopahin.

Lopahin

You must make up your mind once for all—there’s no time to lose. It’s quite a simple question, you know. Will you consent to letting the land for building or not? One word in answer: Yes or no? Only one word!

Lyubov

Who is smoking such horrible cigars here? Sits down.

Gaev

Now the railway line has been brought near, it’s made things very convenient sits down. Here we have been over and lunched in town. Cannon off the white! I should like to go home and have a game.

Lyubov

You have plenty of time.

Lopahin

Only one word! Beseechingly. Give me an answer!

Gaev

Yawning. What do you say?

Lyubov

Looks in her purse. I had quite a lot of money here yesterday, and there’s scarcely any left today. My poor Varya feeds us all on milk soup for the sake of economy; the old folks in the kitchen get nothing but pease pudding, while I waste my money in a senseless way drops purse, scattering gold pieces. There, they have all fallen out! Annoyed.

Yasha

Allow me, I’ll soon pick them up collects the coins.

Lyubov

Pray do, Yasha. And what did I go off to the town to lunch for? Your restaurant’s a wretched place with its music and the tablecloth smelling of soap. … Why drink so much, Leonid? And eat so much? And talk so much? Today you talked a great deal again in the restaurant, and all so inappropriately. About the era of the ’seventies, about the decadents. And to whom? Talking to waiters about decadents!

Lopahin

Yes.

Gaev

Waving his hand. I’m incorrigible; that’s evident. Irritably to Yasha. Why is it you keep fidgeting about in front of us!

Yasha

Laughs. I can’t help laughing when I hear your voice.

Gaev

To his sister. Either I or he …

Lyubov

Get along! Go away, Yasha.

Yasha

Gives Lyubov Andreyevna her purse. Directly hardly able to suppress his laughter. This minute … goes off.

Lopahin

Deriganov, the millionaire, means to buy your estate. They say he is coming to the sale himself.

Lyubov

Where did you hear that?

Lopahin

That’s what they say in town.

Gaev

Our aunt in Yaroslavl has promised to send help; but when, and how much she will send, we don’t know.

Lopahin

How much will she send? A hundred thousand? Two hundred?

Lyubov

Oh, well! … Ten or fifteen thousand, and we must be thankful to get that.

Lopahin

Forgive me, but such reckless people as you are—such queer, unbusiness-like people—I never met in my life. One tells you in plain Russian your estate is going to be sold, and you seem not to understand it.

Lyubov

What are we to do? Tell us what to do.

Lopahin

I do tell you every day. Every day I say the same thing. You absolutely must let the cherry orchard and the land on building leases; and do it at once, as quick as may be—the auction’s close upon us! Do understand! Once make up your mind to build villas, and you can raise as much money as you like, and then you are saved.

Lyubov

Villas and summer visitors—forgive me saying so—it’s so vulgar.

Gaev

There I perfectly agree with you.

Lopahin

I shall sob, or scream, or fall into a fit. I can’t stand it! You drive me mad! To Gaev. You’re an old woman!

Gaev

What do you say?

Lopahin

An old woman! Gets up to go.

Lyubov

In dismay. No, don’t go! Do stay, my dear friend! Perhaps we shall think of something.

Lopahin

What is there to think of?

Lyubov

Don’t go, I entreat you! With you here it’s more cheerful, anyway a pause. I keep expecting something, as though the house were going to fall about our ears.

Gaev

In profound dejection. Potted the white! It fails—a kiss.

Lyubov

We have been great sinners. …

Lopahin

You have no sins to repent of.

Gaev

Puts a caramel in his mouth. They say I’ve eaten up my property in caramels laughs.

Lyubov

Oh, my sins! I’ve always thrown my money away recklessly like a lunatic. I married a man who made nothing but debts. My husband died of champagne—he drank dreadfully. To my misery I loved another man, and immediately—it was my first punishment—the blow fell upon me, here, in the river … my boy was drowned and I went abroad—went away forever, never to return, not to see that river again … I shut my eyes, and fled, distracted, and he after me … pitilessly, brutally. I bought a villa at Mentone, for he fell ill there, and for three years I had no rest day or night. His illness wore me out, my soul was dried up. And last year, when my villa was sold to pay my debts, I went to Paris and there he robbed me of everything and abandoned me for another woman; and I tried to poison myself. … So stupid, so shameful! … And suddenly I felt a yearning for Russia, for my country, for my little girl … dries her tears. Lord, Lord, be merciful! Forgive my sins! Do not chastise me more! Takes a telegram out of her pocket. I got this today from Paris. He implores forgiveness, entreats me to return tears up the telegram. I fancy there is music somewhere listens.

Gaev

That’s our famous Jewish orchestra. You remember, four violins, a flute and a double bass.

Lyubov

That still in existence? We ought to send for them one evening, and give a dance.

Lopahin

Listens. I can’t hear. … Hums softly. “For money the Germans will turn a Russian into a Frenchman.” Laughs. I did see such a piece at the theatre yesterday! It was funny!

Lyubov

And most likely there was nothing funny in it. You shouldn’t look at plays, you should look at yourselves a little oftener. How grey your lives are! How much nonsense you talk.

Lopahin

That’s true. One may say honestly, we live a fool’s life pause. My father was a peasant, an idiot; he knew nothing and taught me nothing, only beat me when he was drunk, and always with his stick. In reality I am just such another blockhead and idiot. I’ve learnt nothing properly. I write a wretched hand. I write so that I feel ashamed before folks, like a pig.

Lyubov

You ought to get married, my dear fellow.

Lopahin

Yes … that’s true.

Lyubov

You should marry our Varya, she’s a good girl.

Lopahin

Yes.

Lyubov

She’s a good-natured girl, she’s busy all day long, and what’s more, she loves you. And you have liked her for ever so long.

Lopahin

Well? I’m not against it. … She’s a good girl pause.

Gaev

I’ve been offered a place in the bank: 6,000 roubles a year. Did you know?

Lyubov

You would never do for that! You must stay as you are.

Enter Firs with overcoat.

Firs

Put it on, sir, it’s damp.

Gaev

Putting it on. You bother me, old fellow.

Firs

You can’t go on like this. You went away in the morning without leaving word looks him over.

Lyubov

You look older, Firs!

Firs

What is your pleasure?

Lopahin

You look older, she said.

Firs

I’ve had a long life. They were arranging my wedding before your papa was born … laughs. I was the head footman before the emancipation came. I wouldn’t consent to be set free then; I stayed on with the old master … a pause. I remember what rejoicings they made and didn’t know themselves what they were rejoicing over.

Lopahin

Those were fine old times. There was flogging anyway.

Firs

Not hearing. To be sure! The peasants knew their place, and the masters knew theirs; but now they’re all at sixes and sevens, there’s no making it out.

Gaev

Hold your tongue, Firs. I must go to town tomorrow. I have been promised an introduction to a general, who might let us have a loan.

Lopahin

You won’t bring that off. And you won’t pay your arrears, you may rest assured of that.

Lyubov

That’s all his nonsense. There is no such general.

Enter Trofimov, Anya and Varya.

Gaev

Here come our girls.

Anya

There’s mamma on the seat.

Lyubov

Tenderly. Come here, come along. My darlings! Embraces Anya and Varya. If you only knew how I love you both. Sit beside me, there, like that. All sit down.

Lopahin

Our perpetual student is always with the young ladies.

Trofimov

That’s not your business.

Lopahin

He’ll soon be fifty, and he’s still a student.

Trofimov

Drop your idiotic jokes.

Lopahin

Why are you so cross, you queer fish?

Trofimov

Oh, don’t persist!

Lopahin

Laughs. Allow me to ask you what’s your idea of me?

Trofimov

I’ll tell you my idea of you, Yermolay Alexeyevitch: you are a rich man, you’ll soon be a millionaire. Well, just as in the economy of nature a wild beast is of use, who devours everything that comes in his way, so you too have your use.

All laugh.

Varya

Better tell us something about the planets, Petya.

Lyubov

No, let us go on with the conversation we had yesterday.

Trofimov

What was it about?

Gaev

About pride.

Trofimov

We had a long conversation yesterday, but we came to no conclusion. In pride, in your sense of it, there is something mystical. Perhaps you are right from your point of view; but if one looks at it simply, without subtlety, what sort of pride can there be, what sense is there in it, if man in his physiological formation is very imperfect, if in the immense majority of cases he is coarse, dull-witted, profoundly unhappy? One must give up glorification of self. One should work, and nothing else.

Gaev

One must die in any case.

Trofimov

Who knows? And what does it mean—dying? Perhaps man has a hundred senses, and only the five we know are lost at death, while the other ninety-five remain alive.

Lyubov

How clever you are, Petya!

Lopahin

Ironically. Fearfully clever!

Trofimov

Humanity progresses, perfecting its powers. Everything that is beyond its ken now will one day become familiar and comprehensible; only we must work, we must with all our powers aid the seeker after truth. Here among us in Russia the workers are few in number as yet. The vast majority of the intellectual people I know, seek nothing, do nothing, are not fit as yet for work of any kind. They call themselves intellectual, but they treat their servants as inferiors, behave to the peasants as though they were animals, learn little, read nothing seriously, do practically nothing, only talk about science and know very little about art. They are all serious people, they all have severe faces, they all talk of weighty matters and air their theories, and yet the vast majority of us—ninety-nine percent—live like savages, at the least thing fly to blows and abuse, eat piggishly, sleep in filth and stuffiness, bugs everywhere, stench and damp and moral impurity. And it’s clear all our fine talk is only to divert our attention and other people’s. Show me where to find the crèches there’s so much talk about, and the reading-rooms? They only exist in novels: in real life there are none of them. There is nothing but filth and vulgarity and Asiatic apathy. I fear and dislike very serious faces. I’m afraid of serious conversations. We should do better to be silent.

Lopahin

You know, I get up at five o’clock in the morning, and I work from morning to night; and I’ve money, my own and other people’s, always passing through my hands, and I see what people are made of all round me. One has only to begin to do anything to see how few honest, decent people there are. Sometimes when I lie awake at night, I think: “Oh! Lord, thou hast given us immense forests, boundless plains, the widest horizons, and living here we ourselves ought really to be giants.”

Lyubov

You ask for giants! They are no good except in storybooks; in real life they frighten us.

Epihodov advances in the background, playing on the guitar.

Lyubov

Dreamily. There goes Epihodov.

Anya

Dreamily. There goes Epihodov.

Gaev

The sun has set, my friends.

Trofimov

Yes.

Gaev

Not loudly, but, as it were, declaiming. O nature, divine nature, thou art bright with eternal lustre, beautiful and indifferent! Thou, whom we call mother, thou dost unite within thee life and death! Thou dost give life and dost destroy!

Varya

In a tone of supplication. Uncle!

Anya

Uncle, you are at it again!

Trofimov

You’d much better be cannoning off the red!

Gaev

I’ll hold my tongue, I will.

All sit plunged in thought. Perfect stillness. The only thing audible is the muttering of Firs. Suddenly there is a sound in the distance, as it were from the sky—the sound of a breaking harp-string, mournfully dying away.

Lyubov

What is that?

Lopahin

I don’t know. Somewhere far away a bucket fallen and broken in the pits. But somewhere very far away.

Gaev

It might be a bird of some sort—such as a heron.

Trofimov

Or an owl.

Lyubov

Shudders. I don’t know why, but it’s horrid a pause.

Firs

It was the same before the calamity—the owl hooted and the samovar hissed all the time.

Gaev

Before what calamity?

Firs

Before the emancipation a pause.

Lyubov

Come, my friends, let us be going; evening is falling. To Anya. There are tears in your eyes. What is it, darling? Embraces her.

Anya

Nothing, mamma; it’s nothing.

Trofimov

There is somebody coming.

The Wayfarer appears in a shabby white forage cap and an overcoat; he is slightly drunk.

Wayfarer

Allow me to inquire, can I get to the station this way?

Gaev

Yes. Go along that road.

Wayfarer

I thank you most feelingly coughing. The weather is superb. Declaims. My brother, my suffering brother! … Come out to the Volga! Whose groan do you hear? … To Varya. Mademoiselle, vouchsafe a hungry Russian thirty kopecks.

Varya utters a shriek of alarm.

Lopahin

Angrily. There’s a right and a wrong way of doing everything!

Lyubov

Hurriedly. Here, take this looks in her purse. I’ve no silver. No matter—here’s gold for you.

Wayfarer

I thank you most feelingly! Goes off.

Laughter.

Varya

Frightened. I’m going home—I’m going … Oh, mamma, the servants have nothing to eat, and you gave him gold!

Lyubov

There’s no doing anything with me. I’m so silly! When we get home, I’ll give you all I possess. Yermolay Alexeyevitch, you will lend me some more … !

Lopahin

I will.

Lyubov

Come, friends, it’s time to be going. And Varya, we have made a match of it for you. I congratulate you.

Varya

Through her tears. Mamma, that’s not a joking matter.

Lopahin

“Ophelia, get thee to a nunnery!”

Gaev

My hands are trembling; it’s a long while since I had a game of billiards.

Lopahin

“Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remember’d.”

Lyubov

Come, it will soon be suppertime.

Varya

How he frightened me! My heart’s simply throbbing.

Lopahin

Let me remind you, ladies and gentlemen: on the 22nd of August the cherry orchard will be sold. Think about that! Think about it!

All go off, except Trofimov and Anya.

Anya

Laughing. I’m grateful to the wayfarer! He frightened Varya and we are left alone.

Trofimov

Varya’s afraid we shall fall in love with each other, and for days together she won’t leave us. With her narrow brain she can’t grasp that we are above love. To eliminate the petty and transitory which hinders us from being free and happy—that is the aim and meaning of our life. Forward! We go forward irresistibly towards the bright star that shines yonder in the distance. Forward! Do not lag behind, friends.

Anya

Claps her hands. How well you speak! A pause. It is divine here today.

Trofimov

Yes, it’s glorious weather.

Anya

Somehow, Petya, you’ve made me so that I don’t love the cherry orchard as I used to. I used to love it so dearly. I used to think that there was no spot on earth like our garden.

Trofimov

All Russia is our garden. The earth is great and beautiful—there are many beautiful places in it a pause. Think only, Anya, your grandfather, and great-grandfather, and all your ancestors were slave-owners—the owners of living souls—and from every cherry in the orchard, from every leaf, from every trunk there are human creatures looking at you. Cannot you hear their voices? Oh, it is awful! Your orchard is a fearful thing, and when in the evening or at night one walks about the orchard, the old bark on the trees glimmers dimly in the dusk, and the old cherry trees seem to be dreaming of centuries gone by and tortured by fearful visions. Yes! We are at least two hundred years behind, we have really gained nothing yet, we have no definite attitude to the past, we do nothing but theorise or complain of depression or drink vodka. It is clear that to begin to live in the present we must first expiate our past, we must break with it; and we can expiate it only by suffering, by extraordinary unceasing labour. Understand that, Anya.

Anya

The house we live in has long ceased to be our own, and I shall leave it, I give you my word.

Trofimov

If you have the house keys, fling them into the well and go away. Be free as the wind.

Anya

In ecstasy. How beautifully you said that!

Trofimov

Believe me, Anya, believe me! I am not thirty yet, I am young, I am still a student, but I have gone through so much already! As soon as winter comes I am hungry, sick, careworn, poor as a beggar, and what ups and downs of fortune have I not known! And my soul was always, every minute, day and night, full of inexplicable forebodings. I have a foreboding of happiness, Anya. I see glimpses of it already.

Anya

Pensively. The moon is rising.

Epihodov is heard playing still the same mournful song on the guitar. The moon rises. Somewhere near the poplars Varya is looking for Anya and calling “Anya! where are you?”

Trofimov

Yes, the moon is rising a pause. Here is happiness—here it comes! It is coming nearer and nearer; already I can hear its footsteps. And if we never see it—if we may never know it—what does it matter? Others will see it after us.

Varya’s Voice

Anya! Where are you?

Trofimov

That Varya again! Angrily. It’s revolting!

Anya

Well, let’s go down to the river. It’s lovely there.

Trofimov

Yes, let’s go. They go.

Varya’s Voice

Anya! Anya!

Curtain.

Act III

Firs in a swallowtail coat brings in seltzer water on a tray. Pishtchik and Trofimov enter the drawing-room.

Pishtchik

I am a full-blooded man; I have already had two strokes. Dancing’s hard work for me, but as they say, if you’re in the pack, you must bark with the rest. I’m as strong, I may say, as a horse. My parent, who would have his joke—may the Kingdom of Heaven be his!—used to say about our origin that the ancient stock of the Semyonov-Pishtchiks was derived from the very horse that Caligula made a member of the senate sits down. But I’ve no money, that’s where the mischief is. A hungry dog believes in nothing but meat … snores, but at once wakes up. That’s like me … I can think of nothing but money.

Trofimov

There really is something horsy about your appearance.

Pishtchik

Well … a horse is a fine beast … a horse can be sold.

There is the sound of billiards being played in an adjoining room. Varya appears in the arch leading to the larger drawing-room.

Trofimov

Teasing. Madame Lopahin! Madame Lopahin!

Varya

Angrily. Mangy-looking gentleman!

Trofimov

Yes, I am a mangy-looking gentleman, and I’m proud of it!

Varya

Pondering bitterly. Here we have hired musicians and nothing to pay them! Goes out.

Trofimov

To Pishtchik. If the energy you have wasted during your lifetime in trying to find the money to pay your interest, had gone to something else, you might in the end have turned the world upside down.

Pishtchik

Nietzsche, the philosopher, a very great and celebrated man … of enormous intellect … says in his works, that one can make forged banknotes.

Trofimov

Why, have you read Nietzsche?

Pishtchik

What next … Dashenka told me. … And now I am in such a position, I might just as well forge banknotes. The day after tomorrow I must pay 310 roubles—130 I have procured feels in his pockets, in alarm. The money’s gone! I have lost my money! Through his tears. Where’s the money? Gleefully. Why here it is behind the lining. … It has made me hot all over.

Enter Lyubov Andreyevna and Charlotta Ivanovna.

Lyubov

Hums the Lezginka. Why is Leonid so long? What can he be doing in town? To Dunyasha. Offer the musicians some tea.

Trofimov

The sale hasn’t taken place, most likely.

Lyubov

It’s the wrong time to have the orchestra, and the wrong time to give a dance. Well, never mind sits down and hums softly.

Charlotta

Gives Pishtchik a pack of cards. Here’s a pack of cards. Think of any card you like.

Pishtchik

I’ve thought of one.

Charlotta

Shuffle the pack now. That’s right. Give it here, my dear Mr. Pishtchik. Ein, zwei, drei—now look, it’s in your breast pocket.

Pishtchik

Taking a card out of his breast pocket. The eight of spades! Perfectly right! Wonderingly. Fancy that now!

Charlotta

Holding pack of cards in her hands, to Trofimov. Tell me quickly which is the top card.

Trofimov

Well, the queen of spades.

Charlotta

It is! To Pishtchik. Well, which card is uppermost?

Pishtchik

The ace of hearts.

Charlotta

It is! Claps her hands, pack of cards disappears. Ah! what lovely weather it is today!

A mysterious feminine voice which seems coming out of the floor answers her. “Oh, yes, it’s magnificent weather, madam.”

Charlotta

You are my perfect ideal.

Voice

And I greatly admire you too, madam.

Station Master

Applauding. The lady ventriloquist—bravo!

Pishtchik

Wonderingly. Fancy that now! Most enchanting Charlotta Ivanovna. I’m simply in love with you.

Charlotta

In love? Shrugging shoulders. What do you know of love, guter Mensch, aber schlechter Musikant.

Trofimov

Pats Pishtchik on the shoulder. You dear old horse. …

Charlotta

Attention, please! Another trick! Takes a travelling rug from a chair. Here’s a very good rug; I want to sell it shaking it out. Doesn’t anyone want to buy it?

Pishtchik

Wonderingly. Fancy that!

Charlotta

Ein, zwei, drei! Quickly picks up rug she has dropped; behind the rug stands Anya; she makes a curtsey, runs to her mother, embraces her and runs back into the larger drawing-room amidst general enthusiasm.

Lyubov

Applauds. Bravo! Bravo!

Charlotta

Now again! Ein, zwei, drei! Lifts up the rug; behind the rug stands Varya, bowing.

Pishtchik

Wonderingly. Fancy that now!

Charlotta

That’s the end throws the rug at Pishtchik, makes a curtsey, runs into the larger drawing-room.

Pishtchik

Hurries after her. Mischievous creature! Fancy! Goes out.

Lyubov

And still Leonid doesn’t come. I can’t understand what he’s doing in the town so long! Why, everything must be over by now. The estate is sold, or the sale has not taken place. Why keep us so long in suspense?

Varya

Trying to console her. Uncle’s bought it. I feel sure of that.

Trofimov

Ironically. Oh, yes!

Varya

Great-aunt sent him an authorisation to buy it in her name, and transfer the debt. She’s doing it for Anya’s sake, and I’m sure God will be merciful. Uncle will buy it.

Lyubov

My aunt in Yaroslavl sent fifteen thousand to buy the estate in her name, she doesn’t trust us—but that’s not enough even to pay the arrears hides her face in her hands. My fate is being sealed today, my fate …

Trofimov

Teasing Varya. Madame Lopahin.

Varya

Angrily. Perpetual student! Twice already you’ve been sent down from the University.

Lyubov

Why are you angry, Varya? He’s teasing you about Lopahin. Well, what of that? Marry Lopahin if you like, he’s a good man, and interesting; if you don’t want to, don’t! Nobody compels you, darling.

Varya

I must tell you plainly, mamma, I look at the matter seriously; he’s a good man, I like him.

Lyubov

Well, marry him. I can’t see what you’re waiting for.

Varya

Mamma, I can’t make him an offer myself. For the last two years, everyone’s been talking to me about him. Everyone talks; but he says nothing or else makes a joke. I see what it means. He’s growing rich, he’s absorbed in business, he has no thoughts for me. If I had money, were it ever so little, if I had only a hundred roubles, I’d throw everything up and go far away. I would go into a nunnery.

Trofimov

What bliss!

Varya

To Trofimov. A student ought to have sense! In a soft tone with tears. How ugly you’ve grown, Petya! How old you look! To Lyubov Andreyevna, no longer crying. But I can’t do without work, mamma; I must have something to do every minute.

Enter Yasha.

Yasha

Hardly restraining his laughter. Epihodov has broken a billiard cue! Goes out.

Varya

What is Epihodov doing here? Who gave him leave to play billiards? I can’t make these people out goes out.

Lyubov

Don’t tease her, Petya. You see she has grief enough without that.

Trofimov

She is so very officious, meddling in what’s not her business. All the summer she’s given Anya and me no peace. She’s afraid of a love affair between us. What’s it to do with her? Besides, I have given no grounds for it. Such triviality is not in my line. We are above love!

Lyubov

And I suppose I am beneath love. Very uneasily. Why is it Leonid’s not here? If only I could know whether the estate is sold or not! It seems such an incredible calamity that I really don’t know what to think. I am distracted … I shall scream in a minute … I shall do something stupid. Save me, Petya, tell me something, talk to me!

Trofimov

What does it matter whether the estate is sold today or not? That’s all done with long ago. There’s no turning back, the path is overgrown. Don’t worry yourself, dear Lyubov Andreyevna. You mustn’t deceive yourself; for once in your life you must face the truth!

Lyubov

What truth? You see where the truth lies, but I seem to have lost my sight, I see nothing. You settle every great problem so boldly, but tell me, my dear boy, isn’t it because you’re young—because you haven’t yet understood one of your problems through suffering? You look forward boldly, and isn’t it that you don’t see and don’t expect anything dreadful because life is still hidden from your young eyes? You’re bolder, more honest, deeper than we are, but think, be just a little magnanimous, have pity on me. I was born here, you know, my father and mother lived here, my grandfather lived here, I love this house. I can’t conceive of life without the cherry orchard, and if it really must be sold, then sell me with the orchard embraces Trofimov, kisses him on the forehead. My boy was drowned here weeps. Pity me, my dear kind fellow.

Trofimov

You know I feel for you with all my heart.

Lyubov

But that should have been said differently, so differently takes out her handkerchief, telegram falls on the floor. My heart is so heavy today. It’s so noisy here, my soul is quivering at every sound, I’m shuddering all over, but I can’t go away; I’m afraid to be quiet and alone. Don’t be hard on me, Petya … I love you as though you were one of ourselves. I would gladly let you marry Anya—I swear I would—only, my dear boy, you must take your degree, you do nothing—you’re simply tossed by fate from place to place. That’s so strange. It is, isn’t it? And you must do something with your beard to make it grow somehow laughs. You look so funny!

Trofimov

Picks up the telegram. I’ve no wish to be a beauty.

Lyubov

That’s a telegram from Paris. I get one every day. One yesterday and one today. That savage creature is ill again, he’s in trouble again. He begs forgiveness, beseeches me to go, and really I ought to go to Paris to see him. You look shocked, Petya. What am I to do, my dear boy, what am I to do? He is ill, he is alone and unhappy, and who’ll look after him, who’ll keep him from doing the wrong thing, who’ll give him his medicine at the right time? And why hide it or be silent? I love him, that’s clear. I love him! I love him! He’s a millstone about my neck, I’m going to the bottom with him, but I love that stone and can’t live without it presses Trofimov’s hand. Don’t think ill of me, Petya, don’t tell me anything, don’t tell me …

Trofimov

Through his tears. For God’s sake forgive my frankness: why, he robbed you!

Lyubov

No! No! No! You mustn’t speak like that covers her ears.

Trofimov

He is a wretch! You’re the only person that doesn’t know it! He’s a worthless creature! A despicable wretch!

Lyubov

Getting angry, but speaking with restraint. You’re twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, but you’re still a schoolboy.

Trofimov

Possibly.

Lyubov

You should be a man at your age! You should understand what love means! And you ought to be in love yourself. You ought to fall in love! Angrily. Yes, yes, and it’s not purity in you, you’re simply a prude, a comic fool, a freak.

Trofimov

In horror. The things she’s saying!

Lyubov

I am above love! You’re not above love, but simply as our Firs here says, “You are a good-for-nothing.” At your age not to have a mistress!

Trofimov

In horror. This is awful! The things she is saying! Goes rapidly into the larger drawing-room clutching his head. This is awful! I can’t stand it! I’m going! Goes off, but at once returns. All is over between us! Goes off into the anteroom.

Lyubov

Shouts after him. Petya! Wait a minute! You funny creature! I was joking! Petya! There is a sound of somebody running quickly downstairs and suddenly falling with a crash. Anya and Varya scream, but there is a sound of laughter at once.

Lyubov

What has happened?

Anya runs in.

Anya

Laughing. Petya’s fallen downstairs! Runs out.

Lyubov

What a queer fellow that Petya is!

The Station Master stands in the middle of the larger room and reads “The Magdalene,” by Alexey Tolstoy. They listen to him, but before he has recited many lines strains of a waltz are heard from the anteroom and the reading is broken off. All dance. Trofimov, Anya, Varya and Lyubov Andreyevna come in from the anteroom.

Lyubov

Come, Petya—come, pure heart! I beg your pardon. Let’s have a dance! Dances with Petya.

Anya and Varya dance. Firs comes in, puts his stick down near the side door. Yasha also comes into the drawing-room and looks on at the dancing.

Yasha

What is it, old man?

Firs

I don’t feel well. In old days we used to have generals, barons and admirals dancing at our balls, and now we send for the post-office clerk and the station master and even they’re not overanxious to come. I am getting feeble. The old master, the grandfather, used to give sealing-wax for all complaints. I have been taking sealing-wax for twenty years or more. Perhaps that’s what’s kept me alive.

Yasha

You bore me, old man! Yawns. It’s time you were done with.

Firs

Ach, you’re a good-for-nothing! Mutters.

Trofimov and Lyubov Andreyevna dance in the larger room and then on to the stage.

Lyubov

Merci. I’ll sit down a little sits down. I’m tired.

Enter Anya.

Anya

Excitedly. There’s a man in the kitchen has been saying that the cherry orchard’s been sold today.

Lyubov

Sold to whom?

Anya

He didn’t say to whom. He’s gone away.

She dances with Trofimov, and they go off into the larger room.

Yasha

There was an old man gossiping there, a stranger.

Firs

Leonid Andreyevitch isn’t here yet, he hasn’t come back. He has his light overcoat on, demi-saison, he’ll catch cold for sure. Ach! Foolish young things!!

Lyubov

I feel as though I should die. Go, Yasha, find out to whom it has been sold.

Yasha

But he went away long ago, the old chap laughs.

Lyubov

With slight vexation. What are you laughing at? What are you pleased at?

Yasha

Epihodov is so funny. He’s a silly fellow, two and twenty misfortunes.

Lyubov

Firs, if the estate is sold, where will you go?

Firs

Where you bid me, there I’ll go.

Lyubov

Why do you look like that? Are you ill? You ought to be in bed.

Firs

Yes ironically. Me go to bed and who’s to wait here? Who’s to see to things without me? I’m the only one in all the house.

Yasha

To Lyubov Andreyevna. Lyubov Andreyevna, permit me to make a request of you; if you go back to Paris again, be so kind as to take me with you. It’s positively impossible for me to stay here looking about him; in an undertone. There’s no need to say it, you see for yourself—an uncivilised country, the people have no morals, and then the dullness! The food in the kitchen’s abominable, and then Firs runs after one muttering all sorts of unsuitable words. Take me with you, please do!

Enter Pishtchik.

Pishtchik

Allow me to ask you for a waltz, my dear lady. Lyubov Andreyevna goes with him. Enchanting lady, I really must borrow of you just 180 roubles dances, only 180 roubles. They pass into the larger room.

Yasha

Hums softly. “Knowest thou my soul’s emotion.”

In the larger drawing-room, a figure in a grey top hat and in check trousers is gesticulating and jumping about. Shouts of “Bravo, Charlotta Ivanovna.”

Dunyasha

She has stopped to powder herself. My young lady tells me to dance. There are plenty of gentlemen, and too few ladies, but dancing makes me giddy and makes my heart beat. Firs, the post-office clerk said something to me just now that quite took my breath away.

Music becomes more subdued.

Firs

What did he say to you?

Dunyasha

He said I was like a flower.

Yasha

Yawns. What ignorance! Goes out.

Dunyasha

Like a flower. I am a girl of such delicate feelings, I am awfully fond of soft speeches.

Firs

Your head’s being turned.

Enter Epihodov.

Epihodov

You have no desire to see me, Dunyasha. I might be an insect sighs. Ah! life!

Dunyasha

What is it you want?

Epihodov

Undoubtedly you may be right sighs. But of course, if one looks at it from that point of view, if I may so express myself, you have, excuse my plain speaking, reduced me to a complete state of mind. I know my destiny. Every day some misfortune befalls me and I have long ago grown accustomed to it, so that I look upon my fate with a smile. You gave me your word, and though I—

Dunyasha

Let us have a talk later, I entreat you, but now leave me in peace, for I am lost in reverie plays with her fan.

Epihodov

I have a misfortune every day, and if I may venture to express myself, I merely smile at it, I even laugh.

Varya enters from the larger drawing-room.

Varya

You still have not gone, Epihodov. What a disrespectful creature you are, really! To Dunyasha. Go along, Dunyasha! To Epihodov. First you play billiards and break the cue, then you go wandering about the drawing-room like a visitor!

Epihodov

You really cannot, if I may so express myself, call me to account like this.

Varya

I’m not calling you to account, I’m speaking to you. You do nothing but wander from place to place and don’t do your work. We keep you as a countinghouse clerk, but what use you are I can’t say.

Epihodov

Offended. Whether I work or whether I walk, whether I eat or whether I play billiards, is a matter to be judged by persons of understanding and my elders.

Varya

You dare to tell me that! Firing up. You dare! You mean to say I’ve no understanding. Begone from here! This minute!

Epihodov

Intimidated. I beg you to express yourself with delicacy.

Varya

Beside herself with anger. This moment! get out! away! He goes towards the door, she following him. Two and twenty misfortunes! Take yourself off! Don’t let me set eyes on you! Epihodov has gone out, behind the door his voice, “I shall lodge a complaint against you.” What! You’re coming back? Snatches up the stick Firs has put down near the door. Come! Come! Come! I’ll show you! What! you’re coming? Then take that! She swings the stick, at the very moment that Lopahin comes in.

Lopahin

Very much obliged to you!

Varya

Angrily and ironically. I beg your pardon!

Lopahin

Not at all! I humbly thank you for your kind reception!

Varya

No need of thanks for it moves away, then looks round and asks softly. I haven’t hurt you?

Lopahin

Oh, no! Not at all! There’s an immense bump coming up, though!

Voices from Larger Room

Lopahin has come! Yermolay Alexeyevitch!

Pishtchik

What do I see and hear? Kisses Lopahin. There’s whiff of cognac about about you, my dear soul, and we’re making merry here too!

Enter Lyubov Andreyevna.

Lyubov

Is it you, Yermolay Alexeyevitch? Why have you been so long? Where’s Leonid?

Lopahin

Leonid Andreyevitch arrived with me. He is coming.

Lyubov

In agitation. Well! Well! Was there a sale? Speak!

Lopahin

Embarrassed, afraid of betraying his joy. The sale was over at four o’clock. We missed our train—had to wait till half-past nine. Sighing heavily. Ugh! I feel a little giddy.

Enter Gaev. In his right hand he has purchases, with his left hand he is wiping away his tears.

Lyubov

Well, Leonid? What news? Impatiently, with tears. Make haste, for God’s sake!

Gaev

Makes her no answer, simply waves his hand. To Firs, weeping. Here, take them; there’s anchovies, Kertch herrings. I have eaten nothing all day. What I have been through! Door into the billiard room is open. There is heard a knocking of balls and the voice of Yasha saying “Eighty-seven.” Gaev’s expression changes, he leaves off weeping. I am fearfully tired. Firs, come and help me change my things goes to his own room across the larger drawing-room.

Pishtchik

How about the sale? Tell us, do!

Lyubov

Is the cherry orchard sold?

Lopahin

It is sold.

Lyubov

Who has bought it?

Lopahin

I have bought it. A pause. Lyubov is crushed; she would fall down if she were not standing near a chair and table.

Varya takes keys from her waistband, flings them on the floor in middle of the drawing-room and goes out.

Lopahin

I have bought it! Wait a bit, ladies and gentlemen, pray. My head’s a bit muddled, I can’t speak laughs. We came to the auction. Deriganov was there already. Leonid Andreyevitch only had fifteen thousand and Deriganov bid thirty thousand, besides the arrears, straight off. I saw how the land lay. I bid against him. I bid forty thousand, he bid forty-five thousand, I said fifty-five, and so he went on, adding five thousands and I adding ten. Well … So it ended. I bid ninety, and it was knocked down to me. Now the cherry orchard’s mine! Mine! Chuckles. My God, the cherry orchard’s mine! Tell me that I’m drunk, that I’m out of my mind, that it’s all a dream stamps with his feet. Don’t laugh at me! If my father and my grandfather could rise from their graves and see all that has happened! How their Yermolay, ignorant, beaten Yermolay, who used to run about barefoot in winter, how that very Yermolay has bought the finest estate in the world! I have bought the estate where my father and grandfather were slaves, where they weren’t even admitted into the kitchen. I am asleep, I am dreaming! It is all fancy, it is the work of your imagination plunged in the darkness of ignorance picks up keys, smiling fondly. She threw away the keys; she means to show she’s not the housewife now jingles the keys. Well, no matter. The orchestra is heard tuning up. Hey, musicians! Play! I want to hear you. Come, all of you, and look how Yermolay Lopahin will take the axe to the cherry orchard, how the trees will fall to the ground! We will build houses on it and our grandsons and great-grandsons will see a new life springing up there. Music! Play up!

Music begins to play. Lyubov Andreyevna has sunk into a chair and is weeping bitterly.

Lopahin

Reproachfully. Why, why didn’t you listen to me? My poor friend! Dear lady, there’s no turning back now. With tears. Oh, if all this could be over, oh, if our miserable disjointed life could somehow soon be changed!

Pishtchik

Takes him by the arm, in an undertone. She’s weeping, let us go and leave her alone. Come takes him by the arm and leads him into the larger drawing-room.

Lopahin

What’s that? Musicians, play up! All must be as I wish it. With irony. Here comes the new master, the owner of the cherry orchard! Accidentally tips over a little table, almost upsetting the candelabra. I can pay for everything! Goes out with Pishtchik. No one remains on the stage or in the larger drawing-room except Lyubov, who sits huddled up, weeping bitterly. The music plays softly. Anya and Trofimov come in quickly. Anya goes up to her mother and falls on her knees before her. Trofimov stands at the entrance to the larger drawing-room.

Anya

Mamma! Mamma, you’re crying, dear, kind, good mamma! My precious! I love you! I bless you! The cherry orchard is sold, it is gone, that’s true, that’s true! But don’t weep, mamma! Life is still before you, you have still your good, pure heart! Let us go, let us go, darling, away from here! We will make a new garden, more splendid than this one; you will see it, you will understand. And joy, quiet, deep joy, will sink into your soul like the sun at evening! And you will smile, mamma! Come, darling, let us go!

Curtain.

Act IV

Yasha

The peasants have come to say goodbye. In my opinion, Yermolay Alexeyevitch, the peasants are good-natured, but they don’t know much about things.

The hum of talk dies away. Enter across front of stage Lyubov Andreyevna and Gaev. She is not weeping, but is pale; her face is quivering—she cannot speak.

Gaev

You gave them your purse, Lyuba. That won’t do—that won’t do!

Lyubov

I couldn’t help it! I couldn’t help it!

Both go out.

Lopahin

In the doorway, calls after them. You will take a glass at parting? Please do. I didn’t think to bring any from the town, and at the station I could only get one bottle. Please take a glass a pause. What? You don’t care for any? Comes away from the door. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bought it. Well, and I’m not going to drink it. Yasha carefully sets the tray down on a chair. You have a glass, Yasha, anyway.

Yasha

Good luck to the travellers, and luck to those that stay behind! Drinks. This champagne isn’t the real thing, I can assure you.

Lopahin

It cost eight roubles the bottle a pause. It’s devilish cold here.

Yasha

They haven’t heated the stove today—it’s all the same since we’re going laughs.

Lopahin

What are you laughing for?

Yasha

For pleasure.

Lopahin

Though it’s October, it’s as still and sunny as though it were summer. It’s just right for building! Looks at his watch; says in doorway. Take note, ladies and gentlemen, the train goes in forty-seven minutes; so you ought to start for the station in twenty minutes. You must hurry up!

Trofimov comes in from out of doors wearing a greatcoat.

Trofimov

I think it must be time to start, the horses are ready. The devil only knows what’s become of my goloshes; they’re lost. In the doorway. Anya! My goloshes aren’t here. I can’t find them.

Lopahin

And I’m getting off to Harkov. I am going in the same train with you. I’m spending all the winter at Harkov. I’ve been wasting all my time gossiping with you and fretting with no work to do. I can’t get on without work. I don’t know what to do with my hands, they flap about so queerly, as if they didn’t belong to me.

Trofimov

Well, we’re just going away, and you will take up your profitable labours again.

Lopahin

Do take a glass.

Trofimov

No, thanks.

Lopahin

Then you’re going to Moscow now?

Trofimov

Yes. I shall see them as far as the town, and tomorrow I shall go on to Moscow.

Lopahin

Yes, I daresay, the professors aren’t giving any lectures, they’re waiting for your arrival.

Trofimov

That’s not your business.

Lopahin

How many years have you been at the University?

Trofimov

Do think of something newer than that—that’s stale and flat hunts for goloshes. You know we shall most likely never see each other again, so let me give you one piece of advice at parting: don’t wave your arms about—get out of the habit. And another thing, building villas, reckoning up that the summer visitors will in time become independent farmers—reckoning like that, that’s not the thing to do either. After all, I am fond of you: you have fine delicate fingers like an artist, you’ve a fine delicate soul.

Lopahin

Embraces him. Goodbye, my dear fellow. Thanks for everything. Let me give you money for the journey, if you need it.

Trofimov

What for? I don’t need it.

Lopahin

Why, you haven’t got a halfpenny.

Trofimov

Yes, I have, thank you. I got some money for a translation. Here it is in my pocket, anxiously but where can my goloshes be!

Varya

From the next room. Take the nasty things! Flings a pair of goloshes on to the stage.

Trofimov

Why are you so cross, Varya? h’m! … but those aren’t my goloshes.

Lopahin

I sowed three thousand acres with poppies in the spring, and now I have cleared forty thousand profit. And when my poppies were in flower, wasn’t it a picture! So here, as I say, I made forty thousand, and I’m offering you a loan because I can afford to. Why turn up your nose? I am a peasant—I speak bluntly.

Trofimov

Your father was a peasant, mine was a chemist—and that proves absolutely nothing whatever. Lopahin takes out his pocketbook. Stop that—stop that. If you were to offer me two hundred thousand I wouldn’t take it. I am an independent man, and everything that all of you, rich and poor alike, prize so highly and hold so dear, hasn’t the slightest power over me—it’s like so much fluff fluttering in the air. I can get on without you. I can pass by you. I am strong and proud. Humanity is advancing towards the highest truth, the highest happiness, which is possible on earth, and I am in the front ranks.

Lopahin

Will you get there?

Trofimov

I shall get there a pause. I shall get there, or I shall show others the way to get there.

In the distance is heard the stroke of an axe on a tree.

Lopahin

Goodbye, my dear fellow; it’s time to be off. We turn up our noses at one another, but life is passing all the while. When I am working hard without resting, then my mind is more at ease, and it seems to me as though I too know what I exist for; but how many people there are in Russia, my dear boy, who exist, one doesn’t know what for. Well, it doesn’t matter. That’s not what keeps things spinning. They tell me Leonid Andreyevitch has taken a situation. He is going to be a clerk at the bank—6,000 roubles a year. Only, of course, he won’t stick to it—he’s too lazy.

Anya

In the doorway. Mamma begs you not to let them chop down the orchard until she’s gone.

Trofimov

Yes, really, you might have the tact walks out across the front of the stage.

Lopahin

I’ll see to it! I’ll see to it! Stupid fellows! Goes out after him.

Anya

Has Firs been taken to the hospital?

Yasha

I told them this morning. No doubt they have taken him.

Anya

To Epihodov, who passes across the drawing-room. Semyon Pantaleyevitch, inquire, please, if Firs has been taken to the hospital.

Yasha

In a tone of offence. I told Yegor this morning—why ask a dozen times?

Epihodov

Firs is advanced in years. It’s my conclusive opinion no treatment would do him good; it’s time he was gathered to his fathers. And I can only envy him puts a trunk down on a cardboard hatbox and crushes it. There, now, of course—I knew it would be so.

Yasha

Jeeringly. Two and twenty misfortunes!

Varya

Through the door. Has Firs been taken to the hospital?

Anya

Yes.

Varya

Why wasn’t the note for the doctor taken too?

Anya

Oh, then, we must send it after them goes out.

Varya

From the adjoining room. Where’s Yasha? Tell him his mother’s come to say goodbye to him.

Yasha

Waves his hand. They put me out of all patience! Dunyasha has all this time been busy about the luggage. Now, when Yasha is left alone, she goes up to him.

Dunyasha

You might just give me one look, Yasha. You’re going away. You’re leaving me weeps and throws herself on his neck.

Yasha

What are you crying for? Drinks the champagne. In six days I shall be in Paris again. Tomorrow we shall get into the express train and roll away in a flash. I can scarcely believe it! Vive la France! It doesn’t suit me here—it’s not the life for me; there’s no doing anything. I have seen enough of the ignorance here. I have had enough of it drinks champagne. What are you crying for? Behave yourself properly, and then you won’t cry.

Dunyasha

Powders her face, looking in a pocket-mirror. Do send me a letter from Paris. You know how I loved you, Yasha—how I loved you! I am a tender creature, Yasha.

Yasha

Here they are coming!

Busies himself about the trunks, humming softly. Enter Lyubov Andreyevna, Gaev, Anya and Charlotta Ivanovna.

Gaev

We ought to be off. There’s not much time now looking at Yasha. What a smell of herrings!

Lyubov

In ten minutes we must get into the carriage casts a look about the room. Farewell, dear house, dear old home of our fathers! Winter will pass and spring will come, and then you will be no more; they will tear you down! How much those walls have seen! Kisses her daughter passionately. My treasure, how bright you look! Your eyes are sparkling like diamonds! Are you glad? Very glad?

Anya

Very glad! A new life is beginning, mamma.

Gaev

Yes, really, everything is all right now. Before the cherry orchard was sold, we were all worried and wretched, but afterwards, when once the question was settled conclusively, irrevocably, we all felt calm and even cheerful. I am a bank clerk now—I am a financier—cannon off the red. And you, Lyuba, after all, you are looking better; there’s no question of that.

Lyubov

Yes. My nerves are better, that’s true. Her hat and coat are handed to her. I’m sleeping well. Carry out my things, Yasha. It’s time. To Anya. My darling, we shall soon see each other again. I am going to Paris. I can live there on the money your Yaroslavl auntie sent us to buy the estate with—hurrah for auntie!—but that money won’t last long.

Anya

You’ll come back soon, mamma, won’t you? I’ll be working up for my examination in the high school, and when I have passed that, I shall set to work and be a help to you. We will read all sorts of things together, mamma, won’t we? Kisses her mother’s hands. We will read in the autumn evenings. We’ll read lots of books, and a new wonderful world will open out before us dreamily. Mamma, come soon.

Lyubov

I shall come, my precious treasure embraces her.

Enter Lopahin. Charlotta softly hums a song.

Gaev

Charlotta’s happy; she’s singing!

Charlotta

Picks up a bundle like a swaddled baby. Bye, bye, my baby. A baby is heard crying: “Ooah! ooah!” Hush, hush, my pretty boy! Ooah! ooah! Poor little thing! Throws the bundle back. You must please find me a situation. I can’t go on like this.

Lopahin

We’ll find you one, Charlotta Ivanovna. Don’t you worry yourself.

Gaev

Everyone’s leaving us. Varya’s going away. We have become of no use all at once.

Charlotta

There’s nowhere for me to be in the town. I must go away. Hums. What care I …

Enter Pishtchik.

Lopahin

The freak of nature!

Pishtchik

Gasping. Oh! … let me get my breath. … I’m worn out … my most honoured … Give me some water.

Gaev

Want some money, I suppose? Your humble servant! I’ll go out of the way of temptation goes out.

Pishtchik

It’s a long while since I have been to see you … dearest lady. To Lopahin. You are here … glad to see you … a man of immense intellect … take … here gives Lopahin money 400 roubles. That leaves me owing 840.

Lopahin

Shrugging his shoulders in amazement. It’s like a dream. Where did you get it?

Pishtchik

Wait a bit … I’m hot … a most extraordinary occurrence! Some Englishmen came along and found in my land some sort of white clay. To Lyubov Andreyevna. And 400 for you … most lovely … wonderful gives money. The rest later sips water. A young man in the train was telling me just now that a great philosopher advises jumping off a housetop. “Jump!” says he; “the whole gist of the problem lies in that.” Wonderingly. Fancy that, now! Water, please!

Lopahin

What Englishmen?

Pishtchik

I have made over to them the rights to dig the clay for twenty-four years … and now, excuse me … I can’t stay … I must be trotting on. I’m going to Znoikovo … to Kardamanovo. … I’m in debt all round sips. … To your very good health! … I’ll come in on Thursday.

Lyubov

We are just off to the town, and tomorrow I start for abroad.

Pishtchik

What! In agitation. Why to the town? Oh, I see the furniture … the boxes. No matter … through his tears … no matter … men of enormous intellect … these Englishmen. … Never mind … be happy. God will succour you … no matter … everything in this world must have an end kisses Lyubov Andreyevna’s hand. If the rumour reaches you that my end has come, think of this … old horse, and say: “There once was such a man in the world … Semyonov-Pishtchik … the kingdom of heaven be his!” … most extraordinary weather … yes. Goes out in violent agitation, but at once returns and says in the doorway. Dashenka wishes to be remembered to you goes out.

Lyubov

Now we can start. I leave with two cares in my heart. The first is leaving Firs ill. Looking at her watch. We have still five minutes.

Anya

Mamma, Firs has been taken to the hospital. Yasha sent him off this morning.

Lyubov

My other anxiety is Varya. She is used to getting up early and working; and now, without work, she’s like a fish out of water. She is thin and pale, and she’s crying, poor dear! A pause. You are well aware, Yermolay Alexeyevitch, I dreamed of marrying her to you, and everything seemed to show that you would get married whispers to Anya and motions to Charlotta and both go out. She loves you—she suits you. And I don’t know—I don’t know why it is you seem, as it were, to avoid each other. I can’t understand it!

Lopahin

I don’t understand it myself, I confess. It’s queer somehow, altogether. If there’s still time, I’m ready now at once. Let’s settle it straight off, and go ahead; but without you, I feel I shan’t make her an offer.

Lyubov

That’s excellent. Why, a single moment’s all that’s necessary. I’ll call her at once.

Lopahin

And there’s champagne all ready too looking into the glasses. Empty! Someone’s emptied them already. Yasha coughs. I call that greedy.

Lyubov

Eagerly. Capital! We will go out. Yasha, allez! I’ll call her in. At the door. Varya, leave all that; come here. Come along! Goes out with Yasha.

Lopahin

Looking at his watch. Yes.

A pause. Behind the door, smothered laughter and whispering, and, at last, enter Varya.

Varya

Looking a long while over the things. It is strange, I can’t find it anywhere.

Lopahin

What are you looking for?

Varya

I packed it myself, and I can’t remember a pause.

Lopahin

Where are you going now, Varvara Mihailova?

Varya

I? To the Ragulins. I have arranged to go to them to look after the house—as a housekeeper.

Lopahin

That’s in Yashnovo? It’ll be seventy miles away a pause. So this is the end of life in this house!

Varya

Looking among the things. Where is it? Perhaps I put it in the trunk. Yes, life in this house is over—there will be no more of it.

Lopahin

And I’m just off to Harkov—by this next train. I’ve a lot of business there. I’m leaving Epihodov here, and I’ve taken him on.

Varya

Really!

Lopahin

This time last year we had snow already, if you remember; but now it’s so fine and sunny. Though it’s cold, to be sure—three degrees of frost.

Varya

I haven’t looked a pause. And besides, our thermometer’s broken a pause.

Voice at the door from the yard: “Yermolay Alexeyevitch!”

Lopahin

As though he had long been expecting this summons. This minute!

Lopahin goes out quickly. Varya sitting on the floor and laying her head on a bag full of clothes, sobs quietly. The door opens. Lyubov Andreyevna comes in cautiously.

Lyubov

Well? A pause. We must be going.

Varya

Has wiped her eyes and is no longer crying. Yes, mamma, it’s time to start. I shall have time to get to the Ragulins today, if only you’re not late for the train.

Lyubov

In the doorway. Anya, put your things on.

Enter Anya, then Gaev and Charlotta Ivanovna. Gaev has on a warm coat with a hood. Servants and cabmen come in. Epihodov bustles about the luggage.

Lyubov

Now we can start on our travels.

Anya

Joyfully. On our travels!

Gaev

My friends—my dear, my precious friends! Leaving this house forever, can I be silent? Can I refrain from giving utterance at leave-taking to those emotions which now flood all my being?

Anya

Supplicatingly. Uncle!

Varya

Uncle, you mustn’t!

Gaev

Dejectedly. Cannon and into the pocket … I’ll be quiet. …

Enter Trofimov and afterwards Lopahin.

Trofimov

Well, ladies and gentlemen, we must start.

Lopahin

Epihodov, my coat!

Lyubov

I’ll stay just one minute. It seems as though I have never seen before what the walls, what the ceilings in this house were like, and now I look at them with greediness, with such tender love.

Gaev

I remember when I was six years old sitting in that window on Trinity Day watching my father going to church.

Lyubov

Have all the things been taken?

Lopahin

I think all. Putting on overcoat, to Epihodov. You, Epihodov, mind you see everything is right.

Epihodov

In a husky voice. Don’t you trouble, Yermolay Alexeyevitch.

Lopahin

Why, what’s wrong with your voice?

Epihodov

I’ve just had a drink of water, and I choked over something.

Yasha

Contemptuously. The ignorance!

Lyubov

We are going—and not a soul will be left here.

Lopahin

Not till the spring.

Varya

Pulls a parasol out of a bundle, as though about to hit someone with it. Lopahin makes a gesture as though alarmed. What is it? I didn’t mean anything.

Trofimov

Ladies and gentlemen, let us get into the carriage. It’s time. The train will be in directly.

Varya

Petya, here they are, your goloshes, by that box. With tears. And what dirty old things they are!

Trofimov

Putting on his goloshes. Let us go, friends!

Gaev

Greatly agitated, afraid of weeping. The train—the station! Double baulk, ah!

Lyubov

Let us go!

Lopahin

Are we all here? Locks the side-door on left. The things are all here. We must lock up. Let us go!

Anya

Goodbye, home! Goodbye to the old life!

Trofimov

Welcome to the new life!

Trofimov goes out with Anya. Varya looks round the room and goes out slowly. Yasha and Charlotta Ivanovna, with her dog, go out.

Lopahin

Till the spring, then! Come, friends, till we meet! Goes out.

Lyubov Andreyevna and Gaev remain alone. As though they had been waiting for this, they throw themselves on each other’s necks, and break into subdued smothered sobbing, afraid of being overheard.

Gaev

In despair. Sister, my sister!

Lyubov

Oh, my orchard!—my sweet, beautiful orchard! My life, my youth, my happiness, goodbye! goodbye!

Voice of Anya

Calling gaily. Mamma!

Voice of Trofimov

Gaily, excitedly. Aa‑oo!

Lyubov

One last look at the walls, at the windows. My dear mother loved to walk about this room.

Gaev

Sister, sister!

Voice of Anya

Mamma!

Voice of Trofimov

Aa‑oo!

Lyubov

We are coming. They go out.

The stage is empty. There is the sound of the doors being locked up, then of the carriages driving away. There is silence. In the stillness there is the dull stroke of an axe in a tree, clanging with a mournful lonely sound. Footsteps are heard. Firs appears in the doorway on the right. He is dressed as always—in a pea-jacket and white waistcoat, with slippers on his feet. He is ill.

Firs

Goes up to the doors, and tries the handles. Locked! They have gone … sits down on sofa. They have forgotten me. … Never mind … I’ll sit here a bit. … I’ll be bound Leonid Andreyevitch hasn’t put his fur coat on and has gone off in his thin overcoat sighs anxiously. I didn’t see after him. … These young people … mutters something that can’t be distinguished. Life has slipped by as though I hadn’t lived. Lies down. I’ll lie down a bit. … There’s no strength in you, nothing left you—all gone! Ech! I’m good for nothing lies motionless.

A sound is heard that seems to come from the sky, like a breaking harp-string, dying away mournfully. All is still again, and there is heard nothing but the strokes of the axe far away in the orchard.

Curtain.