YASHA. Yes, certainly. I cannot differ from you there. [Yawns and lights
a cigar.]
EPIKHODOV. That is perfectly natural. Abroad everything is in full
complexity.
YASHA. That goes without saying.
EPIKHODOV. I’m an educated man, I read various remarkable books, but I
cannot understand the direction I myself want to go--whether to live
or to shoot myself, as it were. So, in case, I always carry a revolver
about with me. Here it is. [Shows a revolver.]
CHARLOTTA. I’ve done. Now I’ll go. [Slings the rifle] You, Epikhodov,
are a very clever man and very terrible; women must be madly in love
with you. Brrr! [Going] These wise ones are all so stupid. I’ve nobody
to talk to. I’m always alone, alone; I’ve nobody at all... and I don’t
know who I am or why I live. [Exit slowly.]
EPIKHODOV. As a matter of fact, independently of everything else, I must
express my feeling, among other things, that fate has been as pitiless
in her dealings with me as a storm is to a small ship. Suppose, let
us grant, I am wrong; then why did I wake up this morning, to give an
example, and behold an enormous spider on my chest, like that. [Shows
with both hands] And if I do drink some kvass, why is it that there is
bound to be something of the most indelicate nature in it, such as a
beetle? [Pause] Have you read Buckle? [Pause] I should like to trouble
you, Avdotya Fedorovna, for two words.
DUNYASHA. Say on.
EPIKHODOV. I should prefer to be alone with you. [Sighs.]
DUNYASHA. [Shy] Very well, only first bring me my little cloak.... It’s
by the cupboard. It’s a little damp here.
EPIKHODOV. Very well... I’ll bring it.... Now I know what to do with my
revolver. [Takes guitar and exits, strumming.]
YASHA. Two-and-twenty troubles! A silly man, between you and me and the
gatepost. [Yawns.]
DUNYASHA. I hope to goodness he won’t shoot himself. [Pause] I’m so
nervous, I’m worried. I went into service when I was quite a little
girl, and now I’m not used to common life, and my hands are white, white
as a lady’s. I’m so tender and so delicate now; respectable and afraid
of everything.... I’m so frightened. And I don’t know what will happen
to my nerves if you deceive me, Yasha.
YASHA. [Kisses her] Little cucumber! Of course, every girl must respect
herself; there’s nothing I dislike more than a badly behaved girl.
DUNYASHA. I’m awfully in love with you; you’re educated, you can talk
about everything. [Pause.]
YASHA. [Yawns] Yes. I think this: if a girl loves anybody, then that
means she’s immoral. [Pause] It’s nice to smoke a cigar out in the open
air.... [Listens] Somebody’s coming. It’s the mistress, and people with
her. [DUNYASHA embraces him suddenly] Go to the house, as if you’d been
bathing in the river; go by this path, or they’ll meet you and will
think I’ve been meeting you. I can’t stand that sort of thing.
DUNYASHA. [Coughs quietly] My head’s aching because of your cigar.
[Exit. YASHA remains, sitting by the shrine. Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA,
GAEV, and LOPAKHIN.]
LOPAKHIN. You must make up your mind definitely--there’s no time to
waste. The question is perfectly plain. Are you willing to let the land
for villas or no? Just one word, yes or no? Just one word!
LUBOV. Who’s smoking horrible cigars here? [Sits.]
GAEV. They built that railway; that’s made this place very handy. [Sits]
Went to town and had lunch... red in the middle! I’d like to go in now
and have just one game.
LUBOV. You’ll have time.
LOPAKHIN. Just one word! [Imploringly] Give me an answer!
GAEV. [Yawns] Really!
LUBOV. [Looks in her purse] I had a lot of money yesterday, but there’s
very little to-day. My poor Varya feeds everybody on milk soup to
save money, in the kitchen the old people only get peas, and I spend
recklessly. [Drops the purse, scattering gold coins] There, they are all
over the place.
YASHA. Permit me to pick them up. [Collects the coins.]
LUBOV. Please do, Yasha. And why did I go and have lunch there?... A
horrid restaurant with band and tablecloths smelling of soap.... Why
do you drink so much, Leon? Why do you eat so much? Why do you talk so
much? You talked again too much to-day in the restaurant, and it wasn’t
at all to the point--about the seventies and about decadents. And to
whom? Talking to the waiters about decadents!
LOPAKHIN. Yes.
GAEV. [Waves his hand] I can’t be cured, that’s obvious.... [Irritably
to YASHA] What’s the matter? Why do you keep twisting about in front of
me?
YASHA. [Laughs] I can’t listen to your voice without laughing.
GAEV. [To his sister] Either he or I...
LUBOV. Go away, Yasha; get out of this....
YASHA. [Gives purse to LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] I’ll go at once. [Hardly able
to keep from laughing] This minute.... [Exit.]
LOPAKHIN. That rich man Deriganov is preparing to buy your estate. They
say he’ll come to the sale himself.
LUBOV. Where did you hear that?
LOPAKHIN. They say so in town.
GAEV. Our Yaroslav aunt has promised to send something, but I don’t know
when or how much.
LOPAKHIN. How much will she send? A hundred thousand roubles? Or two,
perhaps?
LUBOV. I’d be glad of ten or fifteen thousand.
LOPAKHIN. You must excuse my saying so, but I’ve never met such
frivolous people as you before, or anybody so unbusinesslike and
peculiar. Here I am telling you in plain language that your estate will
be sold, and you don’t seem to understand.
LUBOV. What are we to do? Tell us, what?
LOPAKHIN. I tell you every day. I say the same thing every day. Both the
cherry orchard and the land must be leased off for villas and at once,
immediately--the auction is staring you in the face: Understand! Once
you do definitely make up your minds to the villas, then you’ll have as
much money as you want and you’ll be saved.
LUBOV. Villas and villa residents--it’s so vulgar, excuse me.
GAEV. I entirely agree with you.
LOPAKHIN. I must cry or yell or faint. I can’t stand it! You’re too much
for me! [To GAEV] You old woman!
GAEV. Really!
LOPAKHIN. Old woman! [Going out.]
LUBOV. [Frightened] No, don’t go away, do stop; be a dear. Please.
Perhaps we’ll find some way out!
LOPAKHIN. What’s the good of trying to think!
LUBOV. Please don’t go away. It’s nicer when you’re here.... [Pause]
I keep on waiting for something to happen, as if the house is going to
collapse over our heads.
GAEV. [Thinking deeply] Double in the corner... across the middle....
LUBOV. We have been too sinful....
LOPAKHIN. What sins have you committed?
GAEV. [Puts candy into his mouth] They say that I’ve eaten all my
substance in sugar-candies. [Laughs.]
LUBOV. Oh, my sins.... I’ve always scattered money about without holding
myself in, like a madwoman, and I married a man who made nothing but
debts. My husband died of champagne--he drank terribly--and to my
misfortune, I fell in love with another man and went off with him, and
just at that time--it was my first punishment, a blow that hit me right
on the head--here, in the river... my boy was drowned, and I went away,
quite away, never to return, never to see this river again...I shut my
eyes and ran without thinking, but _he_ ran after me... without pity,
without respect. I bought a villa near Mentone because _he_ fell ill
there, and for three years I knew no rest either by day or night; the
sick man wore me out, and my soul dried up. And last year, when they
had sold the villa to pay my debts, I went away to Paris, and there
he robbed me of all I had and threw me over and went off with another
woman. I tried to poison myself.... It was so silly, so shameful....
And suddenly I longed to be back in Russia, my own land, with my little
girl.... [Wipes her tears] Lord, Lord be merciful to me, forgive me my
sins! Punish me no more! [Takes a telegram out of her pocket] I had
this to-day from Paris.... He begs my forgiveness, he implores me to
return.... [Tears it up] Don’t I hear music? [Listens.]
GAEV. That is our celebrated Jewish band. You remember--four violins, a
flute, and a double-bass.
LUBOV So it still exists? It would be nice if they came along some
evening.
LOPAKHIN. [Listens] I can’t hear.... [Sings quietly] “For money will the
Germans make a Frenchman of a Russian.” [Laughs] I saw such an awfully
funny thing at the theatre last night.
LUBOV. I’m quite sure there wasn’t anything at all funny. You oughtn’t
to go and see plays, you ought to go and look at yourself. What a grey
life you lead, what a lot you talk unnecessarily.
LOPAKHIN. It’s true. To speak the straight truth, we live a silly life.
[Pause] My father was a peasant, an idiot, he understood nothing, he
didn’t teach me, he was always drunk, and always used a stick on me. In
point of fact, I’m a fool and an idiot too. I’ve never learned anything,
my handwriting is bad, I write so that I’m quite ashamed before people,
like a pig!
LUBOV. You ought to get married, my friend.
LOPAKHIN. Yes... that’s true.
LUBOV. Why not to our Varya? She’s a nice girl.
LOPAKHIN. Yes.
LUBOV. She’s quite homely in her ways, works all day, and, what matters
most, she’s in love with you. And you’ve liked her for a long time.
LOPAKHIN. Well? I don’t mind... she’s a nice girl. [Pause.]
GAEV. I’m offered a place in a bank. Six thousand roubles a year.... Did
you hear?
LUBOV. What’s the matter with you! Stay where you are....
[Enter FIERS with an overcoat.]
FIERS. [To GAEV] Please, sir, put this on, it’s damp.
GAEV. [Putting it on] You’re a nuisance, old man.
FIERS It’s all very well.... You went away this morning without telling
me. [Examining GAEV.]
LUBOV. How old you’ve grown, Fiers!
FIERS. I beg your pardon?
LOPAKHIN. She says you’ve grown very old!
FIERS. I’ve been alive a long time. They were already getting ready
to marry me before your father was born.... [Laughs] And when the
Emancipation came I was already first valet. Only I didn’t agree with
the Emancipation and remained with my people.... [Pause] I remember
everybody was happy, but they didn’t know why.
LOPAKHIN. It was very good for them in the old days. At any rate, they
used to beat them.
FIERS. [Not hearing] Rather. The peasants kept their distance from the
masters and the masters kept their distance from the peasants, but now
everything’s all anyhow and you can’t understand anything.
GAEV. Be quiet, Fiers. I’ve got to go to town tomorrow. I’ve been
promised an introduction to a General who may lend me money on a bill.
LOPAKHIN. Nothing will come of it. And you won’t pay your interest,
don’t you worry.
LUBOV. He’s talking rubbish. There’s no General at all.
[Enter TROFIMOV, ANYA, and VARYA.]
GAEV. Here they are.
ANYA. Mother’s sitting down here.
LUBOV. [Tenderly] Come, come, my dears.... [Embracing ANYA and VARYA] If
you two only knew how much I love you. Sit down next to me, like that.
[All sit down.]
LOPAKHIN. Our eternal student is always with the ladies.
TROFIMOV. That’s not your business.
LOPAKHIN. He’ll soon be fifty, and he’s still a student.
TROFIMOV. Leave off your silly jokes!
LOPAKHIN. Getting angry, eh, silly?
TROFIMOV. Shut up, can’t you.
LOPAKHIN. [Laughs] I wonder what you think of me?
TROFIMOV. I think, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that you’re a rich man,
and you’ll soon be a millionaire. Just as the wild beast which eats
everything it finds is needed for changes to take place in matter, so
you are needed too.
[All laugh.]
VARYA. Better tell us something about the planets, Peter.
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA. No, let’s go on with yesterday’s talk!
TROFIMOV. About what?
GAEV. About the proud man.
TROFIMOV. Yesterday we talked for a long time but we didn’t come to
anything in the end. There’s something mystical about the proud man, in
your sense. Perhaps you are right from your point of view, but if you
take the matter simply, without complicating it, then what pride can
there be, what sense can there be in it, if a man is imperfectly made,
physiologically speaking, if in the vast majority of cases he is coarse
and stupid and deeply unhappy? We must stop admiring one another. We
must work, nothing more.
GAEV. You’ll die, all the same.
TROFIMOV. Who knows? And what does it mean--you’ll die? Perhaps a man
has a hundred senses, and when he dies only the five known to us are
destroyed and the remaining ninety-five are left alive.
LUBOV. How clever of you, Peter!
LOPAKHIN. [Ironically] Oh, awfully!
TROFIMOV. The human race progresses, perfecting its powers.
Everything that is unattainable now will some day be near at hand and
comprehensible, but we must work, we must help with all our strength
those who seek to know what fate will bring. Meanwhile in Russia only
a very few of us work. The vast majority of those intellectuals whom I
know seek for nothing, do nothing, and are at present incapable of hard
work. They call themselves intellectuals, but they use “thou” and “thee”
to their servants, they treat the peasants like animals, they learn
badly, they read nothing seriously, they do absolutely nothing, about
science they only talk, about art they understand little. They are
all serious, they all have severe faces, they all talk about important
things. They philosophize, and at the same time, the vast majority
of us, ninety-nine out of a hundred, live like savages, fighting and
cursing at the slightest opportunity, eating filthily, sleeping in the
dirt, in stuffiness, with fleas, stinks, smells, moral filth, and so
on... And it’s obvious that all our nice talk is only carried on to
distract ourselves and others. Tell me, where are those créches we hear
so much of? and where are those reading-rooms? People only write novels
about them; they don’t really exist. Only dirt, vulgarity, and Asiatic
plagues really exist.... I’m afraid, and I don’t at all like serious
faces; I don’t like serious conversations. Let’s be quiet sooner.
LOPAKHIN. You know, I get up at five every morning, I work from
morning till evening, I am always dealing with money--my own and other
people’s--and I see what people are like. You’ve only got to begin to
do anything to find out how few honest, honourable people there are.
Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I think: “Oh Lord, you’ve given us huge
forests, infinite fields, and endless horizons, and we, living here,
ought really to be giants.”
LUBOV. You want giants, do you?... They’re only good in stories, and
even there they frighten one. [EPIKHODOV enters at the back of the stage
playing his guitar. Thoughtfully:] Epikhodov’s there.
ANYA. [Thoughtfully] Epikhodov’s there.
GAEV. The sun’s set, ladies and gentlemen.
TROFIMOV. Yes.
GAEV [Not loudly, as if declaiming] O Nature, thou art wonderful, thou
shinest with eternal radiance! Oh, beautiful and indifferent one, thou
whom we call mother, thou containest in thyself existence and death,
thou livest and destroyest....
VARYA. [Entreatingly] Uncle, dear!
ANYA. Uncle, you’re doing it again!
TROFIMOV. You’d better double the red into the middle.
GAEV. I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet.
[They all sit thoughtfully. It is quiet. Only the mumbling of FIERS is
heard. Suddenly a distant sound is heard as if from the sky, the sound
of a breaking string, which dies away sadly.]
LUBOV. What’s that?
LOPAKHIN. I don’t know. It may be a bucket fallen down a well somewhere.
But it’s some way off.
GAEV. Or perhaps it’s some bird... like a heron.
TROFIMOV. Or an owl.
LUBOV. [Shudders] It’s unpleasant, somehow. [A pause.]
FIERS. Before the misfortune the same thing happened. An owl screamed
and the samovar hummed without stopping.
GAEV. Before what misfortune?
FIERS. Before the Emancipation. [A pause.]
LUBOV. You know, my friends, let’s go in; it’s evening now. [To ANYA]
You’ve tears in your eyes.... What is it, little girl? [Embraces her.]
ANYA. It’s nothing, mother.
TROFIMOV. Some one’s coming.
[Enter a TRAMP in an old white peaked cap and overcoat. He is a little
drunk.]
TRAMP. Excuse me, may I go this way straight through to the station?
GAEV. You may. Go along this path.
TRAMP. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. [Hiccups] Lovely
weather.... [Declaims] My brother, my suffering brother.... Come out on
the Volga, you whose groans... [To VARYA] Mademoiselle, please give a
hungry Russian thirty copecks....
[VARYA screams, frightened.]
LOPAKHIN. [Angrily] There’s manners everybody’s got to keep!
LUBOV. [With a start] Take this... here you are.... [Feels in her purse]
There’s no silver.... It doesn’t matter, here’s gold.
TRAMP. I am deeply grateful to you! [Exit. Laughter.]
VARYA. [Frightened] I’m going, I’m going.... Oh, little mother, at home
there’s nothing for the servants to eat, and you gave him gold.
LUBOV. What is to be done with such a fool as I am! At home I’ll give
you everything I’ve got. Ermolai Alexeyevitch, lend me some more!...
LOPAKHIN. Very well.
LUBOV. Let’s go, it’s time. And Varya, we’ve settled your affair; I
congratulate you.
VARYA. [Crying] You shouldn’t joke about this, mother.
LOPAKHIN. Oh, feel me, get thee to a nunnery.
GAEV. My hands are all trembling; I haven’t played billiards for a long
time.
LOPAKHIN. Oh, feel me, nymph, remember me in thine orisons.
LUBOV. Come along; it’ll soon be supper-time.
VARYA. He did frighten me. My heart is beating hard.
LOPAKHIN. Let me remind you, ladies and gentlemen, on August 22 the
cherry orchard will be sold. Think of that!... Think of that!...
[All go out except TROFIMOV and ANYA.]
ANYA. [Laughs] Thanks to the tramp who frightened Barbara, we’re alone
now.
TROFIMOV. Varya’s afraid we may fall in love with each other and won’t
get away from us for days on end. Her narrow mind won’t allow her to
understand that we are above love. To escape all the petty and deceptive
things which prevent our being happy and free, that is the aim and
meaning of our lives. Forward! We go irresistibly on to that bright star
which burns there, in the distance! Don’t lag behind, friends!
ANYA. [Clapping her hands] How beautifully you talk! [Pause] It is
glorious here to-day!
TROFIMOV. Yes, the weather is wonderful.
ANYA. What have you done to me, Peter? I don’t love the cherry orchard
as I used to. I loved it so tenderly, I thought there was no better
place in the world than our orchard.
TROFIMOV. All Russia is our orchard. The land is great and beautiful,
there are many marvellous places in it. [Pause] Think, Anya, your
grandfather, your great-grandfather, and all your ancestors were
serf-owners, they owned living souls; and now, doesn’t something human
look at you from every cherry in the orchard, every leaf and every
stalk? Don’t you hear voices...? Oh, it’s awful, your orchard is
terrible; and when in the evening or at night you walk through the
orchard, then the old bark on the trees sheds a dim light and the old
cherry-trees seem to be dreaming of all that was a hundred, two hundred
years ago, and are oppressed by their heavy visions. Still, at any
rate, we’ve left those two hundred years behind us. So far we’ve gained
nothing at all--we don’t yet know what the past is to be to us--we only
philosophize, we complain that we are dull, or we drink vodka. For it’s
so clear that in order to begin to live in the present we must first
redeem the past, and that can only be done by suffering, by strenuous,
uninterrupted labour. Understand that, Anya.
ANYA. The house in which we live has long ceased to be our house; I
shall go away. I give you my word.
TROFIMOV. If you have the housekeeping keys, throw them down the well
and go away. Be as free as the wind.
ANYA. [Enthusiastically] How nicely you said that!
TROFIMOV. Believe me, Anya, believe me! I’m not thirty yet, I’m young,
I’m still a student, but I have undergone a great deal! I’m as hungry
as the winter, I’m ill, I’m shaken. I’m as poor as a beggar, and where
haven’t I been--fate has tossed me everywhere! But my soul is always my
own; every minute of the day and the night it is filled with unspeakable
presentiments. I know that happiness is coming, Anya, I see it
already....
ANYA. [Thoughtful] The moon is rising.
[EPIKHODOV is heard playing the same sad song on his guitar. The moon
rises. Somewhere by the poplars VARYA is looking for ANYA and calling,
“Anya, where are you?”]
TROFIMOV. Yes, the moon has risen. [Pause] There is happiness, there it
comes; it comes nearer and nearer; I hear its steps already. And if we
do not see it we shall not know it, but what does that matter? Others
will see it!
THE VOICE OF VARYA. Anya! Where are you?
TROFIMOV. That’s Varya again! [Angry] Disgraceful!
ANYA. Never mind. Let’s go to the river. It’s nice there.
TROFIMOV Let’s go. [They go out.]
THE VOICE OF VARYA. Anya! Anya!
Curtain.
ACT THREE
[A reception-room cut off from a drawing-room by an arch. Chandelier
lighted. A Jewish band, the one mentioned in Act II, is heard playing
in another room. Evening. In the drawing-room the grand rond is being
danced. Voice of SIMEONOV PISCHIN “Promenade a une paire!” Dancers
come into the reception-room; the first pair are PISCHIN and CHARLOTTA
IVANOVNA; the second, TROFIMOV and LUBOV ANDREYEVNA; the third, ANYA and
the POST OFFICE CLERK; the fourth, VARYA and the STATION-MASTER, and
so on. VARYA is crying gently and wipes away her tears as she dances.
DUNYASHA is in the last pair. They go off into the drawing-room,
PISCHIN shouting, “Grand rond, balancez:” and “Les cavaliers à genou
et remerciez vos dames!” FIERS, in a dress-coat, carries a tray with
seltzer-water across. Enter PISCHIN and TROFIMOV from the drawing-room.]
PISCHIN. I’m full-blooded and have already had two strokes; it’s hard
for me to dance, but, as they say, if you’re in Rome, you must do as
Rome does. I’ve got the strength of a horse. My dead father, who liked
a joke, peace to his bones, used to say, talking of our ancestors,
that the ancient stock of the Simeonov-Pischins was descended from that
identical horse that Caligula made a senator.... [Sits] But the trouble
is, I’ve no money! A hungry dog only believes in meat. [Snores and wakes
up again immediately] So I... only believe in money....
TROFIMOV. Yes. There is something equine about your figure.
PISCHIN. Well... a horse is a fine animal... you can sell a horse.
[Billiard playing can be heard in the next room. VARYA appears under the
arch.]
TROFIMOV. [Teasing] Madame Lopakhin! Madame Lopakhin!
VARYA. [Angry] Decayed gentleman!
TROFIMOV. Yes, I am a decayed gentleman, and I’m proud of it!
VARYA. [Bitterly] We’ve hired the musicians, but how are they to be
paid? [Exit.]
TROFIMOV. [To PISCHIN] If the energy which you, in the course of your
life, have spent in looking for money to pay interest had been used
for something else, then, I believe, after all, you’d be able to turn
everything upside down.
PISCHIN. Nietzsche... a philosopher... a very great, a most celebrated
man... a man of enormous brain, says in his books that you can forge
bank-notes.
TROFIMOV. And have you read Nietzsche?
PISCHIN. Well... Dashenka told me. Now I’m in such a position, I
wouldn’t mind forging them... I’ve got to pay 310 roubles the day after
to-morrow... I’ve got 130 already.... [Feels his pockets, nervously]
I’ve lost the money! The money’s gone! [Crying] Where’s the money?
[Joyfully] Here it is behind the lining... I even began to perspire.
[Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA and CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA.]
LUBOV. [Humming a Caucasian dance] Why is Leonid away so long? What’s he
doing in town? [To DUNYASHA] Dunyasha, give the musicians some tea.
TROFIMOV. Business is off, I suppose.
LUBOV. And the musicians needn’t have come, and we needn’t have got up
this ball.... Well, never mind.... [Sits and sings softly.]
CHARLOTTA. [Gives a pack of cards to PISCHIN] Here’s a pack of cards,
think of any one card you like.
PISCHIN. I’ve thought of one.
CHARLOTTA. Now shuffle. All right, now. Give them here, oh my dear
Mr. Pischin. _Ein, zwei, drei_! Now look and you’ll find it in your
coat-tail pocket.
PISCHIN. [Takes a card out of his coat-tail pocket] Eight of spades,
quite right! [Surprised] Think of that now!
CHARLOTTA. [Holds the pack of cards on the palm of her hand. To
TROFIMOV] Now tell me quickly. What’s the top card?
TROFIMOV. Well, the queen of spades.
CHARLOTTA. Right! [To PISCHIN] Well now? What card’s on top?
PISCHIN. Ace of hearts.
CHARLOTTA. Right! [Claps her hands, the pack of cards vanishes] How
lovely the weather is to-day. [A mysterious woman’s voice answers her,
as if from under the floor, “Oh yes, it’s lovely weather, madam.”] You
are so beautiful, you are my ideal. [Voice, “You, madam, please me very
much too.”]
STATION-MASTER. [Applauds] Madame ventriloquist, bravo!
PISCHIN. [Surprised] Think of that, now! Delightful, Charlotte
Ivanovna... I’m simply in love....
CHARLOTTA. In love? [Shrugging her shoulders] Can you love? _Guter
Mensch aber schlechter Musikant_.
TROFIMOV. [Slaps PISCHIN on the shoulder] Oh, you horse!
CHARLOTTA. Attention please, here’s another trick. [Takes a shawl from a
chair] Here’s a very nice plaid shawl, I’m going to sell it.... [Shakes
it] Won’t anybody buy it?
PISCHIN. [Astonished] Think of that now!
CHARLOTTA. _Ein, zwei, drei_.
[She quickly lifts up the shawl, which is hanging down. ANYA is standing
behind it; she bows and runs to her mother, hugs her and runs back to
the drawing-room amid general applause.]
LUBOV. [Applauds] Bravo, bravo!
CHARLOTTA. Once again! _Ein, zwei, drei_!
[Lifts the shawl. VARYA stands behind it and bows.]
PISCHIN. [Astonished] Think of that, now.
CHARLOTTA. The end!
[Throws the shawl at PISCHIN, curtseys and runs into the drawing-room.]
PISCHIN. [Runs after her] Little wretch.... What? Would you? [Exit.]
LUBOV. Leonid hasn’t come yet. I don’t understand what he’s doing so
long in town! Everything must be over by now. The estate must be sold;
or, if the sale never came off, then why does he stay so long?
VARYA. [Tries to soothe her] Uncle has bought it. I’m certain of it.
TROFIMOV. [Sarcastically] Oh, yes!
VARYA. Grandmother sent him her authority for him to buy it in her name
and transfer the debt to her. She’s doing it for Anya. And I’m certain
that God will help us and uncle will buy it.
LUBOV. Grandmother sent fifteen thousand roubles from Yaroslav to buy
the property in her name--she won’t trust us--and that wasn’t even
enough to pay the interest. [Covers her face with her hands] My fate
will be settled to-day, my fate....
TROFIMOV. [Teasing VARYA] Madame Lopakhin!
VARYA. [Angry] Eternal student! He’s already been expelled twice from
the university.
LUBOV. Why are you getting angry, Varya? He’s teasing you about
Lopakhin, well what of it? You can marry Lopakhin if you want to, he’s a
good, interesting man.... You needn’t if you don’t want to; nobody wants
to force you against your will, my darling.
VARYA. I do look at the matter seriously, little mother, to be quite
frank. He’s a good man, and I like him.
LUBOV. Then marry him. I don’t understand what you’re waiting for.
VARYA. I can’t propose to him myself, little mother. People have been
talking about him to me for two years now, but he either says nothing,
or jokes about it. I understand. He’s getting rich, he’s busy, he can’t
bother about me. If I had some money, even a little, even only a hundred
roubles, I’d throw up everything and go away. I’d go into a convent.
TROFIMOV. How nice!
VARYA. [To TROFIMOV] A student ought to have sense! [Gently, in tears]
How ugly you are now, Peter, how old you’ve grown! [To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA,
no longer crying] But I can’t go on without working, little mother. I
want to be doing something every minute.
[Enter YASHA.]
YASHA. [Nearly laughing] Epikhodov’s broken a billiard cue! [Exit.]
VARYA. Why is Epikhodov here? Who said he could play billiards? I don’t
understand these people. [Exit.]
LUBOV. Don’t tease her, Peter, you see that she’s quite unhappy without
that.
TROFIMOV. She takes too much on herself, she keeps on interfering in
other people’s business. The whole summer she’s given no peace to me or
to Anya, she’s afraid we’ll have a romance all to ourselves. What has it
to do with her? As if I’d ever given her grounds to believe I’d stoop to
such vulgarity! We are above love.
LUBOV. Then I suppose I must be beneath love. [In agitation] Why isn’t
Leonid here? If I only knew whether the estate is sold or not! The
disaster seems to me so improbable that I don’t know what to think, I’m
all at sea... I may scream... or do something silly. Save me, Peter. Say
something, say something.
TROFIMOV. Isn’t it all the same whether the estate is sold to-day or
isn’t? It’s been all up with it for a long time; there’s no turning
back, the path’s grown over. Be calm, dear, you shouldn’t deceive
yourself, for once in your life at any rate you must look the truth
straight in the face.
LUBOV. What truth? You see where truth is, and where untruth is, but
I seem to have lost my sight and see nothing. You boldly settle all
important questions, but tell me, dear, isn’t it because you’re young,
because you haven’t had time to suffer till you settled a single one
of your questions? You boldly look forward, isn’t it because you cannot
foresee or expect anything terrible, because so far life has been hidden
from your young eyes? You are bolder, more honest, deeper than we are,
but think only, be just a little magnanimous, and have mercy on me. I
was born here, my father and mother lived here, my grandfather too,
I love this house. I couldn’t understand my life without that cherry
orchard, and if it really must be sold, sell me with it! [Embraces
TROFIMOV, kisses his forehead]. My son was drowned here.... [Weeps] Have
pity on me, good, kind man.
TROFIMOV. You know I sympathize with all my soul.
LUBOV. Yes, but it ought to be said differently, differently.... [Takes
another handkerchief, a telegram falls on the floor] I’m so sick at
heart to-day, you can’t imagine. Here it’s so noisy, my soul shakes at
every sound. I shake all over, and I can’t go away by myself, I’m afraid
of the silence. Don’t judge me harshly, Peter... I loved you, as if you
belonged to my family. I’d gladly let Anya marry you, I swear it, only
dear, you ought to work, finish your studies. You don’t do anything,
only fate throws you about from place to place, it’s so odd.... Isn’t it
true? Yes? And you ought to do something to your beard to make it grow
better [Laughs] You are funny!
TROFIMOV. [Picking up telegram] I don’t want to be a Beau Brummel.
LUBOV. This telegram’s from Paris. I get one every day. Yesterday and
to-day. That wild man is ill again, he’s bad again.... He begs for
forgiveness, and implores me to come, and I really ought to go to Paris
to be near him. You look severe, Peter, but what can I do, my dear, what
can I do; he’s ill, he’s alone, unhappy, and who’s to look after
him, who’s to keep him away from his errors, to give him his medicine
punctually? And why should I conceal it and say nothing about it; I love
him, that’s plain, I love him, I love him.... That love is a stone round
my neck; I’m going with it to the bottom, but I love that stone and
can’t live without it. [Squeezes TROFIMOV’S hand] Don’t think badly of
me, Peter, don’t say anything to me, don’t say...
TROFIMOV. [Weeping] For God’s sake forgive my speaking candidly, but
that man has robbed you!
LUBOV. No, no, no, you oughtn’t to say that! [Stops her ears.]
TROFIMOV. But he’s a wretch, you alone don’t know it! He’s a petty
thief, a nobody....
LUBOV. [Angry, but restrained] You’re twenty-six or twenty-seven, and
still a schoolboy of the second class!
TROFIMOV. Why not!
LUBOV. You ought to be a man, at your age you ought to be able to
understand those who love. And you ought to be in love yourself, you
must fall in love! [Angry] Yes, yes! You aren’t pure, you’re just a
freak, a queer fellow, a funny growth...
TROFIMOV. [In horror] What is she saying!
LUBOV. “I’m above love!” You’re not above love, you’re just what our
Fiers calls a bungler. Not to have a mistress at your age!
TROFIMOV. [In horror] This is awful! What is she saying? [Goes quickly
up into the drawing-room, clutching his head] It’s awful... I can’t
stand it, I’ll go away. [Exit, but returns at once] All is over between
us! [Exit.]
LUBOV. [Shouts after him] Peter, wait! Silly man, I was joking! Peter!
[Somebody is heard going out and falling downstairs noisily. ANYA and
VARYA scream; laughter is heard immediately] What’s that?
[ANYA comes running in, laughing.]
ANYA. Peter’s fallen downstairs! [Runs out again.]
LUBOV. This Peter’s a marvel.
[The STATION-MASTER stands in the middle of the drawing-room and recites
“The Magdalen” by Tolstoy. He is listened to, but he has only delivered
a few lines when a waltz is heard from the front room, and the
recitation is stopped. Everybody dances. TROFIMOV, ANYA, VARYA, and
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA come in from the front room.]
LUBOV. Well, Peter... you pure soul... I beg your pardon... let’s dance.
[She dances with PETER. ANYA and VARYA dance. FIERS enters and stands
his stick by a side door. YASHA has also come in and looks on at the
dance.]
YASHA. Well, grandfather?
FIERS. I’m not well. At our balls some time back, generals and barons
and admirals used to dance, and now we send for post-office clerks and
the Station-master, and even they come as a favour. I’m very weak. The
dead master, the grandfather, used to give everybody sealing-wax when
anything was wrong. I’ve taken sealing-wax every day for twenty years,
and more; perhaps that’s why I still live.
YASHA. I’m tired of you, grandfather. [Yawns] If you’d only hurry up and
kick the bucket.
FIERS. Oh you... bungler! [Mutters.]
[TROFIMOV and LUBOV ANDREYEVNA dance in the reception-room, then into
the sitting-room.]
LUBOV. _Merci_. I’ll sit down. [Sits] I’m tired.
[Enter ANYA.]
ANYA. [Excited] Somebody in the kitchen was saying just now that the
cherry orchard was sold to-day.
LUBOV. Sold to whom?
ANYA. He didn’t say to whom. He’s gone now. [Dances out into the
reception-room with TROFIMOV.]
YASHA. Some old man was chattering about it a long time ago. A stranger!
FIERS. And Leonid Andreyevitch isn’t here yet, he hasn’t come. He’s
wearing a light, _demi-saison_ overcoat. He’ll catch cold. Oh these
young fellows.
LUBOV. I’ll die of this. Go and find out, Yasha, to whom it’s sold.
YASHA. Oh, but he’s been gone a long time, the old man. [Laughs.]
LUBOV. [Slightly vexed] Why do you laugh? What are you glad about?
YASHA. Epikhodov’s too funny. He’s a silly man. Two-and-twenty troubles.
LUBOV. Fiers, if the estate is sold, where will you go?
FIERS. I’ll go wherever you order me to go.
LUBOV. Why do you look like that? Are you ill? I think you ought to go
to bed....
FIERS. Yes... [With a smile] I’ll go to bed, and who’ll hand things
round and give orders without me? I’ve the whole house on my shoulders.
YASHA. [To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] Lubov Andreyevna! I want to ask a favour of
you, if you’ll be so kind! If you go to Paris again, then please take
me with you. It’s absolutely impossible for me to stop here. [Looking
round; in an undertone] What’s the good of talking about it, you see for
yourself that this is an uneducated country, with an immoral population,
and it’s so dull. The food in the kitchen is beastly, and here’s this
Fiers walking about mumbling various inappropriate things. Take me with
you, be so kind!
[Enter PISCHIN.]
PISCHIN. I come to ask for the pleasure of a little waltz, dear lady....
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA goes to him] But all the same, you wonderful woman,
I must have 180 little roubles from you... I must.... [They dance] 180
little roubles.... [They go through into the drawing-room.]
YASHA. [Sings softly] “Oh, will you understand
My soul’s deep restlessness?”
[In the drawing-room a figure in a grey top-hat and in baggy check
trousers is waving its hands and jumping about; there are cries of
“Bravo, Charlotta Ivanovna!”]
DUNYASHA. [Stops to powder her face] The young mistress tells me to
dance--there are a lot of gentlemen, but few ladies--and my head
goes round when I dance, and my heart beats, Fiers Nicolaevitch; the
Post-office clerk told me something just now which made me catch my
breath. [The music grows faint.]
FIERS. What did he say to you?
DUNYASHA. He says, “You’re like a little flower.”
YASHA. [Yawns] Impolite.... [Exit.]
DUNYASHA. Like a little flower. I’m such a delicate girl; I simply love
words of tenderness.
FIERS. You’ll lose your head.
[Enter EPIKHODOV.]
EPIKHODOV. You, Avdotya Fedorovna, want to see me no more than if I was
some insect. [Sighs] Oh, life!
DUNYASHA. What do you want?
EPIKHODOV. Undoubtedly, perhaps, you may be right. [Sighs] But,
certainly, if you regard the matter from the aspect, then you, if I may
say so, and you must excuse my candidness, have absolutely reduced me to
a state of mind. I know my fate, every day something unfortunate happens
to me, and I’ve grown used to it a long time ago, I even look at my fate
with a smile. You gave me your word, and though I...
DUNYASHA. Please, we’ll talk later on, but leave me alone now. I’m
meditating now. [Plays with her fan.]
EPIKHODOV. Every day something unfortunate happens to me, and I, if I
may so express myself, only smile, and even laugh.
[VARYA enters from the drawing-room.]
VARYA. Haven’t you gone yet, Simeon? You really have no respect for
anybody. [To DUNYASHA] You go away, Dunyasha. [To EPIKHODOV] You play
billiards and break a cue, and walk about the drawing-room as if you
were a visitor!
EPIKHODOV. You cannot, if I may say so, call me to order.
VARYA. I’m not calling you to order, I’m only telling you. You just walk
about from place to place and never do your work. Goodness only knows
why we keep a clerk.
EPIKHODOV. [Offended] Whether I work, or walk about, or eat, or play
billiards, is only a matter to be settled by people of understanding and
my elders.
VARYA. You dare to talk to me like that! [Furious] You dare? You mean
that I know nothing? Get out of here! This minute!
EPIKHODOV. [Nervous] I must ask you to express yourself more delicately.
VARYA. [Beside herself] Get out this minute. Get out! [He goes to the
door, she follows] Two-and-twenty troubles! I don’t want any sign of you
here! I don’t want to see anything of you! [EPIKHODOV has gone out; his
voice can be heard outside: “I’ll make a complaint against you.”] What,
coming back? [Snatches up the stick left by FIERS by the door] Go...
go... go, I’ll show you.... Are you going? Are you going? Well, then
take that. [She hits out as LOPAKHIN enters.]
LOPAKHIN. Much obliged.
VARYA. [Angry but amused] I’m sorry.
LOPAKHIN. Never mind. I thank you for my pleasant reception.
VARYA. It isn’t worth any thanks. [Walks away, then looks back and asks
gently] I didn’t hurt you, did I?
LOPAKHIN. No, not at all. There’ll be an enormous bump, that’s all.
VOICES FROM THE DRAWING-ROOM. Lopakhin’s returned! Ermolai Alexeyevitch!
PISCHIN. Now we’ll see what there is to see and hear what there is to
hear... [Kisses LOPAKHIN] You smell of cognac, my dear, my soul. And
we’re all having a good time.
[Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA.]
LUBOV. Is that you, Ermolai Alexeyevitch? Why were you so long? Where’s
Leonid?
LOPAKHIN. Leonid Andreyevitch came back with me, he’s coming....
LUBOV. [Excited] Well, what? Is it sold? Tell me?
LOPAKHIN. [Confused, afraid to show his pleasure] The sale ended up at
four o’clock.... We missed the train, and had to wait till half-past
nine. [Sighs heavily] Ooh! My head’s going round a little.
[Enter GAEV; in his right hand he carries things he has bought, with his
left he wipes away his tears.]
LUBOV. Leon, what’s happened? Leon, well? [Impatiently, in tears] Quick,
for the love of God....
GAEV. [Says nothing to her, only waves his hand; to FIERS, weeping]
Here, take this.... Here are anchovies, herrings from Kertch....
I’ve had no food to-day.... I have had a time! [The door from the
billiard-room is open; the clicking of the balls is heard, and YASHA’S
voice, “Seven, eighteen!” GAEV’S expression changes, he cries no more]
I’m awfully tired. Help me change my clothes, Fiers.
[Goes out through the drawing-room; FIERS after him.]
PISCHIN. What happened? Come on, tell us!
LUBOV. Is the cherry orchard sold?
LOPAKHIN. It is sold.
LUBOV. Who bought it?
LOPAKHIN. I bought it.
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA is overwhelmed; she would fall if she were not
standing by an armchair and a table. VARYA takes her keys off her belt,
throws them on the floor, into the middle of the room and goes out.]
LOPAKHIN. I bought it! Wait, ladies and gentlemen, please, my head’s
going round, I can’t talk.... [Laughs] When we got to the sale,
Deriganov was there already. Leonid Andreyevitch had only fifteen
thousand roubles, and Deriganov offered thirty thousand on top of the
mortgage to begin with. I saw how matters were, so I grabbed hold of
him and bid forty. He went up to forty-five, I offered fifty-five. That
means he went up by fives and I went up by tens.... Well, it came to
an end. I bid ninety more than the mortgage; and it stayed with me. The
cherry orchard is mine now, mine! [Roars with laughter] My God, my God,
the cherry orchard’s mine! Tell me I’m drunk, or mad, or dreaming....
[Stamps his feet] Don’t laugh at me! If my father and grandfather rose
from their graves and looked at the whole affair, and saw how their
Ermolai, their beaten and uneducated Ermolai, who used to run barefoot
in the winter, how that very Ermolai has bought an estate, which is
the most beautiful thing in the world! I’ve bought the estate where my
grandfather and my father were slaves, where they weren’t even allowed
into the kitchen. I’m asleep, it’s only a dream, an illusion.... It’s
the fruit of imagination, wrapped in the fog of the unknown.... [Picks
up the keys, nicely smiling] She threw down the keys, she wanted to show
she was no longer mistress here.... [Jingles keys] Well, it’s all one!
[Hears the band tuning up] Eh, musicians, play, I want to hear you! Come
and look at Ermolai Lopakhin laying his axe to the cherry orchard,
come and look at the trees falling! We’ll build villas here, and our
grandsons and great-grandsons will see a new life here.... Play on,
music! [The band plays. LUBOV ANDREYEVNA sinks into a chair and weeps
bitterly. LOPAKHIN continues reproachfully] Why then, why didn’t you
take my advice? My poor, dear woman, you can’t go back now. [Weeps] Oh,
if only the whole thing was done with, if only our uneven, unhappy life
were changed!
PISCHIN. [Takes his arm; in an undertone] She’s crying. Let’s go into
the drawing-room and leave her by herself... come on.... [Takes his arm
and leads him out.]
LOPAKHIN. What’s that? Bandsmen, play nicely! Go on, do just as I want
you to! [Ironically] The new owner, the owner of the cherry orchard is
coming! [He accidentally knocks up against a little table and nearly
upsets the candelabra] I can pay for everything! [Exit with PISCHIN]
[In the reception-room and the drawing-room nobody remains except LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA, who sits huddled up and weeping bitterly. The band plays
softly. ANYA and TROFIMOV come in quickly. ANYA goes up to her
mother and goes on her knees in front of her. TROFIMOV stands at the
drawing-room entrance.]
ANYA. Mother! mother, are you crying? My dear, kind, good mother, my
beautiful mother, I love you! Bless you! The cherry orchard is sold,
we’ve got it no longer, it’s true, true, but don’t cry mother, you’ve
still got your life before you, you’ve still your beautiful pure soul...
Come with me, come, dear, away from here, come! We’ll plant a new
garden, finer than this, and you’ll see it, and you’ll understand, and
deep joy, gentle joy will sink into your soul, like the evening sun, and
you’ll smile, mother! Come, dear, let’s go!
Curtain.
ACT FOUR
[The stage is set as for Act I. There are no curtains on the windows, no
pictures; only a few pieces of furniture are left; they are piled up in
a corner as if for sale. The emptiness is felt. By the door that
leads out of the house and at the back of the stage, portmanteaux and
travelling paraphernalia are piled up. The door on the left is open; the
voices of VARYA and ANYA can be heard through it. LOPAKHIN stands and
waits. YASHA holds a tray with little tumblers of champagne. Outside,
EPIKHODOV is tying up a box. Voices are heard behind the stage. The
peasants have come to say good-bye. The voice of GAEV is heard: “Thank
you, brothers, thank you.”]
YASHA. The common people have come to say good-bye. I am of the
opinion, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that they’re good people, but they don’t
understand very much.
[The voices die away. LUBOV ANDREYEVNA and GAEV enter. She is not crying
but is pale, and her face trembles; she can hardly speak.]
GAEV. You gave them your purse, Luba. You can’t go on like that, you
can’t!
LUBOV. I couldn’t help myself, I couldn’t! [They go out.]
LOPAKHIN. [In the doorway, calling after them] Please, I ask you most
humbly! Just a little glass to say good-bye. I didn’t remember to bring
any from town and I only found one bottle at the station. Please, do!
[Pause] Won’t you really have any? [Goes away from the door] If I only
knew--I wouldn’t have bought any. Well, I shan’t drink any either.
[YASHA carefully puts the tray on a chair] You have a drink, Yasha, at
any rate.
YASHA. To those departing! And good luck to those who stay behind!
[Drinks] I can assure you that this isn’t real champagne.
LOPAKHIN. Eight roubles a bottle. [Pause] It’s devilish cold here.
YASHA. There are no fires to-day, we’re going away. [Laughs]
LOPAKHIN. What’s the matter with you?
YASHA. I’m just pleased.
LOPAKHIN. It’s October outside, but it’s as sunny and as quiet as if
it were summer. Good for building. [Looking at his watch and speaking
through the door] Ladies and gentlemen, please remember that it’s only
forty-seven minutes till the train goes! You must go off to the station
in twenty minutes. Hurry up.
[TROFIMOV, in an overcoat, comes in from the grounds.]
TROFIMOV. I think it’s time we went. The carriages are waiting. Where
the devil are my goloshes? They’re lost. [Through the door] Anya, I
can’t find my goloshes! I can’t!
LOPAKHIN. I’ve got to go to Kharkov. I’m going in the same train as you.
I’m going to spend the whole winter in Kharkov. I’ve been hanging about
with you people, going rusty without work. I can’t live without working.
I must have something to do with my hands; they hang about as if they
weren’t mine at all.
TROFIMOV. We’ll go away now and then you’ll start again on your useful
labours.
LOPAKHIN. Have a glass.
TROFIMOV. I won’t.
LOPAKHIN. So you’re off to Moscow now?
TROFIMOV Yes. I’ll see them into town and to-morrow I’m off to Moscow.
LOPAKHIN. Yes.... I expect the professors don’t lecture nowadays;
they’re waiting till you turn up!
TROFIMOV. That’s not your business.
LOPAKHIN. How many years have you been going to the university?
TROFIMOV. Think of something fresh. This is old and flat. [Looking for
his goloshes] You know, we may not meet each other again, so just let me
give you a word of advice on parting: “Don’t wave your hands about! Get
rid of that habit of waving them about. And then, building villas and
reckoning on their residents becoming freeholders in time--that’s the
same thing; it’s all a matter of waving your hands about.... Whether
I want to or not, you know, I like you. You’ve thin, delicate fingers,
like those of an artist, and you’ve a thin, delicate soul....”
LOPAKHIN. [Embraces him] Good-bye, dear fellow. Thanks for all you’ve
said. If you want any, take some money from me for the journey.
TROFIMOV. Why should I? I don’t want it.
LOPAKHIN. But you’ve nothing!
TROFIMOV. Yes, I have, thank you; I’ve got some for a translation. Here
it is in my pocket. [Nervously] But I can’t find my goloshes!
VARYA. [From the other room] Take your rubbish away! [Throws a pair of
rubber goloshes on to the stage.]
TROFIMOV. Why are you angry, Varya? Hm! These aren’t my goloshes!
LOPAKHIN. In the spring I sowed three thousand acres of poppies, and now
I’ve made forty thousand roubles net profit. And when my poppies were
in flower, what a picture it was! So I, as I was saying, made forty
thousand roubles, and I mean I’d like to lend you some, because I can
afford it. Why turn up your nose at it? I’m just a simple peasant....
TROFIMOV. Your father was a peasant, mine was a chemist, and that means
absolutely nothing. [LOPAKHIN takes out his pocket-book] No, no....
Even if you gave me twenty thousand I should refuse. I’m a free man. And
everything that all you people, rich and poor, value so highly and so
dearly hasn’t the least influence over me; it’s like a flock of down in
the wind. I can do without you, I can pass you by. I’m strong and proud.
Mankind goes on to the highest truths and to the highest happiness such
as is only possible on earth, and I go in the front ranks!
LOPAKHIN. Will you get there?
TROFIMOV. I will. [Pause] I’ll get there and show others the way. [Axes
cutting the trees are heard in the distance.]
LOPAKHIN. Well, good-bye, old man. It’s time to go. Here we stand
pulling one another’s noses, but life goes its own way all the time.
When I work for a long time, and I don’t get tired, then I think more
easily, and I think I get to understand why I exist. And there are so
many people in Russia, brother, who live for nothing at all. Still, work
goes on without that. Leonid Andreyevitch, they say, has accepted a post
in a bank; he will get sixty thousand roubles a year.... But he won’t
stand it; he’s very lazy.
ANYA. [At the door] Mother asks if you will stop them cutting down the
orchard until she has gone away.
TROFIMOV. Yes, really, you ought to have enough tact not to do that.
[Exit.]
LOPAKHIN, All right, all right... yes, he’s right. [Exit.]
ANYA. Has Fiers been sent to the hospital?
YASHA. I gave the order this morning. I suppose they’ve sent him.
ANYA. [To EPIKHODOV, who crosses the room] Simeon Panteleyevitch, please
make inquiries if Fiers has been sent to the hospital.
YASHA. [Offended] I told Egor this morning. What’s the use of asking ten
times!
EPIKHODOV. The aged Fiers, in my conclusive opinion, isn’t worth
mending; his forefathers had better have him. I only envy him. [Puts
a trunk on a hat-box and squashes it] Well, of course. I thought so!
[Exit.]
YASHA. [Grinning] Two-and-twenty troubles.
VARYA. [Behind the door] Has Fiers been taken away to the hospital?
ANYA. Yes.
VARYA. Why didn’t they take the letter to the doctor?
ANYA. It’ll have to be sent after him. [Exit.]
VARYA. [In the next room] Where’s Yasha? Tell him his mother’s come and
wants to say good-bye to him.
YASHA. [Waving his hand] She’ll make me lose all patience!
[DUNYASHA has meanwhile been bustling round the luggage; now that YASHA
is left alone, she goes up to him.]
DUNYASHA. If you only looked at me once, Yasha. You’re going away,
leaving me behind.
[Weeps and hugs him round the neck.]
YASHA. What’s the use of crying? [Drinks champagne] In six days I’ll be
again in Paris. To-morrow we get into the express and off we go. I can
hardly believe it. Vive la France! It doesn’t suit me here, I can’t live
here... it’s no good. Well, I’ve seen the uncivilized world; I have had
enough of it. [Drinks champagne] What do you want to cry for? You behave
yourself properly, and then you won’t cry.
DUNYASHA. [Looks in a small mirror and powders her face] Send me a
letter from Paris. You know I loved you, Yasha, so much! I’m a sensitive
creature, Yasha.
YASHA. Somebody’s coming.
[He bustles around the luggage, singing softly. Enter LUBOV ANDREYEVNA,
GAEV, ANYA, and CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA.]
GAEV. We’d better be off. There’s no time left. [Looks at YASHA]
Somebody smells of herring!
LUBOV. We needn’t get into our carriages for ten minutes.... [Looks
round the room] Good-bye, dear house, old grandfather. The winter will
go, the spring will come, and then you’ll exist no more, you’ll be
pulled down. How much these walls have seen! [Passionately kisses her
daughter] My treasure, you’re radiant, your eyes flash like two jewels!
Are you happy? Very?
ANYA. Very! A new life is beginning, mother!
GAEV. [Gaily] Yes, really, everything’s all right now. Before the cherry
orchard was sold we all were excited and we suffered, and then, when
the question was solved once and for all, we all calmed down, and even
became cheerful. I’m a bank official now, and a financier... red in the
middle; and you, Luba, for some reason or other, look better, there’s no
doubt about it.
LUBOV Yes. My nerves are better, it’s true. [She puts on her coat and
hat] I sleep well. Take my luggage out, Yasha. It’s time. [To ANYA] My
little girl, we’ll soon see each other again.... I’m off to Paris. I’ll
live there on the money your grandmother from Yaroslav sent along to buy
the estate--bless her!--though it won’t last long.
ANYA. You’ll come back soon, soon, mother, won’t you? I’ll get ready,
and pass the exam at the Higher School, and then I’ll work and help
you. We’ll read all sorts of books to one another, won’t we? [Kisses
her mother’s hands] We’ll read in the autumn evenings; we’ll read
many books, and a beautiful new world will open up before us....
[Thoughtfully] You’ll come, mother....
LUBOV. I’ll come, my darling. [Embraces her.]
[Enter LOPAKHIN. CHARLOTTA is singing to herself.]
GAEV. Charlotta is happy; she sings!
CHARLOTTA. [Takes a bundle, looking like a wrapped-up baby] My little
baby, bye-bye. [The baby seems to answer, “Oua! Oua!”] Hush, my nice
little boy. [“Oua! Oua!”] I’m so sorry for you! [Throws the bundle back]
So please find me a new place. I can’t go on like this.
LOPAKHIN. We’ll find one, Charlotta Ivanovna, don’t you be afraid.
GAEV. Everybody’s leaving us. Varya’s going away... we’ve suddenly
become unnecessary.
CHARLOTTA. I’ve nowhere to live in town. I must go away. [Hums] Never
mind.
[Enter PISCHIN.]
LOPAKHIN. Nature’s marvel!
PISCHIN. [Puffing] Oh, let me get my breath back.... I’m fagged out...
My most honoured, give me some water....
GAEV. Come for money, what? I’m your humble servant, and I’m going out
of the way of temptation. [Exit.]
PISCHIN. I haven’t been here for ever so long... dear madam. [To
LOPAKHIN] You here? Glad to see you... man of immense brain... take
this... take it.... [Gives LOPAKHIN money] Four hundred roubles.... That
leaves 840....
LOPAKHIN. [Shrugs his shoulders in surprise] As if I were dreaming.
Where did you get this from?
PISCHIN. Stop... it’s hot.... A most unexpected thing happened. Some
Englishmen came along and found some white clay on my land.... [To LUBOV
ANDREYEVNA] And here’s four hundred for you... beautiful lady.... [Gives
her money] Give you the rest later.... [Drinks water] Just now a young
man in the train was saying that some great philosopher advises us all
to jump off roofs. “Jump!” he says, and that’s all. [Astonished] To
think of that, now! More water!
LOPAKHIN. Who were these Englishmen?
PISCHIN. I’ve leased off the land with the clay to them for twenty-four
years.... Now, excuse me, I’ve no time.... I must run off.... I must
go to Znoikov and to Kardamonov... I owe them all money.... [Drinks]
Good-bye. I’ll come in on Thursday.
LUBOV. We’re just off to town, and to-morrow I go abroad.
PISCHIN. [Agitated] What? Why to town? I see furniture... trunks....
Well, never mind. [Crying] Never mind. These Englishmen are men of
immense intellect.... Never mind.... Be happy.... God will help you....
Never mind.... Everything in this world comes to an end.... [Kisses
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA’S hand] And if you should happen to hear that my end
has come, just remember this old... horse and say: “There was one
such and such a Simeonov-Pischin, God bless his soul....” Wonderful
weather... yes.... [Exit deeply moved, but returns at once and says in
the door] Dashenka sent her love! [Exit.]
LUBOV. Now we can go. I’ve two anxieties, though. The first is poor
Fiers [Looks at her watch] We’ve still five minutes....
ANYA. Mother, Fiers has already been sent to the hospital. Yasha sent
him off this morning.
LUBOV. The second is Varya. She’s used to getting up early and to work,
and now she’s no work to do she’s like a fish out of water. She’s grown
thin and pale, and she cries, poor thing.... [Pause] You know very well,
Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that I used to hope to marry her to you, and I
suppose you are going to marry somebody? [Whispers to ANYA, who nods to
CHARLOTTA, and they both go out] She loves you, she’s your sort, and I
don’t understand, I really don’t, why you seem to be keeping away from
each other. I don’t understand!
LOPAKHIN. To tell the truth, I don’t understand it myself. It’s all so
strange.... If there’s still time, I’ll be ready at once... Let’s get it
over, once and for all; I don’t feel as if I could ever propose to her
without you.
LUBOV. Excellent. It’ll only take a minute. I’ll call her.
LOPAKHIN. The champagne’s very appropriate. [Looking at the tumblers]
They’re empty, somebody’s already drunk them. [YASHA coughs] I call that
licking it up....
LUBOV. [Animated] Excellent. We’ll go out. Yasha, allez. I’ll call her
in.... [At the door] Varya, leave that and come here. Come! [Exit with
YASHA.]
LOPAKHIN. [Looks at his watch] Yes.... [Pause.]
[There is a restrained laugh behind the door, a whisper, then VARYA
comes in.]
VARYA. [Looking at the luggage in silence] I can’t seem to find it....
LOPAKHIN. What are you looking for?
VARYA. I packed it myself and I don’t remember. [Pause.]
LOPAKHIN. Where are you going to now, Barbara Mihailovna?
VARYA. I? To the Ragulins.... I’ve got an agreement to go and look after
their house... as housekeeper or something.
LOPAKHIN. Is that at Yashnevo? It’s about fifty miles. [Pause] So life
in this house is finished now....
VARYA. [Looking at the luggage] Where is it?... perhaps I’ve put it away
in the trunk.... Yes, there’ll be no more life in this house....
LOPAKHIN. And I’m off to Kharkov at once... by this train. I’ve a lot of
business on hand. I’m leaving Epikhodov here... I’ve taken him on.
VARYA. Well, well!
LOPAKHIN. Last year at this time the snow was already falling, if you
remember, and now it’s nice and sunny. Only it’s rather cold.... There’s
three degrees of frost.
VARYA. I didn’t look. [Pause] And our thermometer’s broken.... [Pause.]
VOICE AT THE DOOR. Ermolai Alexeyevitch!
LOPAKHIN. [As if he has long been waiting to be called] This minute.
[Exit quickly.]
[VARYA, sitting on the floor, puts her face on a bundle of clothes and
weeps gently. The door opens. LUBOV ANDREYEVNA enters carefully.]
LUBOV. Well? [Pause] We must go.
VARYA. [Not crying now, wipes her eyes] Yes, it’s quite time, little
mother. I’ll get to the Ragulins to-day, if I don’t miss the train....
LUBOV. [At the door] Anya, put on your things. [Enter ANYA, then GAEV,
CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA. GAEV wears a warm overcoat with a cape. A servant
and drivers come in. EPIKHODOV bustles around the luggage] Now we can go
away.
ANYA. [Joyfully] Away!
GAEV. My friends, my dear friends! Can I be silent, in leaving this
house for evermore?--can I restrain myself, in saying farewell, from
expressing those feelings which now fill my whole being...?
ANYA. [Imploringly] Uncle!
VARYA. Uncle, you shouldn’t!
GAEV. [Stupidly] Double the red into the middle.... I’ll be quiet.
[Enter TROFIMOV, then LOPAKHIN.]
TROFIMOV. Well, it’s time to be off.
LOPAKHIN. Epikhodov, my coat!
LUBOV. I’ll sit here one more minute. It’s as if I’d never really
noticed what the walls and ceilings of this house were like, and now I
look at them greedily, with such tender love....
GAEV. I remember, when I was six years old, on Trinity Sunday, I sat at
this window and looked and saw my father going to church....
LUBOV. Have all the things been taken away?
LOPAKHIN. Yes, all, I think. [To EPIKHODOV, putting on his coat] You see
that everything’s quite straight, Epikhodov.
EPIKHODOV. [Hoarsely] You may depend upon me, Ermolai Alexeyevitch!
LOPAKHIN. What’s the matter with your voice?
EPIKHODOV. I swallowed something just now; I was having a drink of
water.
YASHA. [Suspiciously] What manners....
LUBOV. We go away, and not a soul remains behind.
LOPAKHIN. Till the spring.
VARYA. [Drags an umbrella out of a bundle, and seems to be waving it
about. LOPAKHIN appears to be frightened] What are you doing?... I never
thought...
TROFIMOV. Come along, let’s take our seats... it’s time! The train will
be in directly.
VARYA. Peter, here they are, your goloshes, by that trunk. [In tears]
And how old and dirty they are....
TROFIMOV. [Putting them on] Come on!
GAEV. [Deeply moved, nearly crying] The train... the station.... Cross
in the middle, a white double in the corner....
LUBOV. Let’s go!
LOPAKHIN. Are you all here? There’s nobody else? [Locks the side-door on
the left] There’s a lot of things in there. I must lock them up. Come!
ANYA. Good-bye, home! Good-bye, old life!
TROFIMOV. Welcome, new life! [Exit with ANYA.]
[VARYA looks round the room and goes out slowly. YASHA and CHARLOTTA,
with her little dog, go out.]
LOPAKHIN. Till the spring, then! Come on... till we meet again! [Exit.]
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA and GAEV are left alone. They might almost have been
waiting for that. They fall into each other’s arms and sob restrainedly
and quietly, fearing that somebody might hear them.]
GAEV. [In despair] My sister, my sister....
LUBOV. My dear, my gentle, beautiful orchard! My life, my youth, my
happiness, good-bye! Good-bye!
ANYA’S VOICE. [Gaily] Mother!
TROFIMOV’S VOICE. [Gaily, excited] Coo-ee!
LUBOV. To look at the walls and the windows for the last time.... My
dead mother used to like to walk about this room....
GAEV. My sister, my sister!
ANYA’S VOICE. Mother!
TROFIMOV’S VOICE. Coo-ee!
LUBOV. We’re coming! [They go out.]
[The stage is empty. The sound of keys being turned in the locks is
heard, and then the noise of the carriages going away. It is quiet. Then
the sound of an axe against the trees is heard in the silence sadly and
by itself. Steps are heard. FIERS comes in from the door on the right.
He is dressed as usual, in a short jacket and white waistcoat; slippers
on his feet. He is ill. He goes to the door and tries the handle.]
FIERS. It’s locked. They’ve gone away. [Sits on a sofa] They’ve
forgotten about me.... Never mind, I’ll sit here.... And Leonid
Andreyevitch will have gone in a light overcoat instead of putting on
his fur coat.... [Sighs anxiously] I didn’t see.... Oh, these young
people! [Mumbles something that cannot be understood] Life’s gone on as
if I’d never lived. [Lying down] I’ll lie down.... You’ve no strength
left in you, nothing left at all.... Oh, you... bungler!
[He lies without moving. The distant sound is heard, as if from the sky,
of a breaking string, dying away sadly. Silence follows it, and only the
sound is heard, some way away in the orchard, of the axe falling on the
trees.]
Curtain.
End of Project Gutenberg’s Plays by Chekhov, Second Series, by Anton Chekhov