 Dermados Personae of the Cherry Orchard by Anton Chekhov, translated by Julius West. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Cherry Orchard, a comedy in four acts. Dermados Personae. Characters Lyubov Andreyevna Ranevsky, Madame Ranevsky, a landowner, read by Ruth Golding. Anya, read by Ariel Lipshaw. Varya, Barbara, her adopted daughter, aged 27, read by Elizabeth Klett. Leonid Andreyevich Gaev, Madame Ranevsky's brother, read by Losh Rolander. Dermalai Alexeyevich Lopakhin, a merchant, read by Andy Minter. Peter Sergeyevich Trofimov, a student, read by M.B. Boris Borisovich Semyon Peshon, a landowner, read by Denny Sayers. Shalota Ivanovna, a governess, read by Anna Simon. Semyon Pateleevich Yepichodov, read by Hevid. Dunyasha, Avdotya Fedorovna, a maid-servant, read by Tricia G. Fierce An old footman, aged 87, read by O.123. Yasha, a young footman, read by Kim Stish. Tramp, read by Musical Heart One. Narration, Sage Directions, read by David Lawrence. The action takes place on Madame Ranevsky's estate. End of Dramatis Personae. Act I of the Cherry Orchard by Anton Chekov, translated by Julius West. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act I A room, which is still called the nursery. One of the doors leads into Anya's room. It is close on sunrise. It is May. The cherry trees are in flower, but it is chilly in the garden. There is an early frost. The windows of the room are shut. Dunyasha comes in with a candle, a lopakine with a book in his hand. The train's arrived. Thank God. What's the time? It will soon be two. Close-out candle. It is light already. How much was the train late? Two hours at least. Yarns and stretches himself. I've made a rotten mess of it. I came here on purpose to meet them at the station, and then overslept myself. In my chair. It's a pity. I wish you'd wakened me. I thought you'd gone away. Listening. I think I hear them coming. Listen. No. They've got to collect their luggage and so on. Lubov Andreevna has been living abroad for five years. I don't know what she will be like now. She's a good sort. An easy, simple person. I remember when I was a boy of fifteen. My father, who is dead, he used to keep a shop in the village here, hit me on the face with his fist and my nose-blood. He had gone into the yard together for something or other, and he was a little drunk. Lubov Andreevna, as I remember her now, was still young and very thin, and she took me to the wash-stand here in this very room, the nursery. She said, Don't cry, little man. It'll be all right in time for your wedding. Little man. My father was a peasant, it's true, but here I am, in a white waistcoat and yellow shoes, a pearl out of a noister. I'm rich now, with lots of money, but just think about it and examine me, and you'll find I'm still a peasant down to the marrow of my bones. Here, I've been reading this book, but I understood nothing. I read and fell asleep. The dogs didn't sleep all night. They know that they're coming. What's up with you, Danyasha? My hands are shaking. I shall faint. You're too sensitive, Danyasha. You dress just like a lady, and you do your hair like one, too. You oughtn't. You should know your place. Yipakodov enters with a bouquet. He wears a short jacket and brilliantly polished boots, which squeak audibly. He drops the bouquet as he enters, then picks it up. The gardener said these, so he said to go into the dining-room. Gives the bouquet to Danyasha. And you'll bring me some kvass. Very well. Exit. There's a frost this morning, three degrees, and the cherry trees are all in flower. I can't approve of our climate. I can't. Our climate is indisposed to favour us even this once. And, Yermolay Alexievich, allow me to say to you, in addition, that I bought myself some boots two days ago, and I beg to assure you that they squeak in a perfectly unbearable manner. What shall I put on them? No way. You bore me. Some misfortune happens to me every day, but I don't complain. I'm used to it, and I can smile. Danyasha comes in and brings lopakine, some kvass. I shall go. Knocks over a chair. There. There. You see, if I may use the word, what circumstances I am in, so to speak, it is even simply marvellous. Exit. I may confess to you, Yermolay Alexievich. What Epikotov has proposed to me. I don't know what to do about it. He's a nice young man, but every now and again when he begins talking, you can't understand a word he's saying. I think I like him. He's madly in love with me. He's an unlucky man. Every day something happens. We tease him about it. They call him two-and-twenty troubles. Listen. There they come, I think. They're coming. What's the matter with me? I'm cold all over. There they are, right enough. Let's go and meet them. Will she know me? We haven't seen each other for five years. I shall faint in a minute. Oh, I'm fainting. Two carriages are heard driving up to the house. Lopakine and Danyasha quickly go out. The stage is empty. A noise begins in the next room. Fears, leaning on a stick, walks quickly across the stage. He has just been to meet Lubav Andriyevna. He wears an old-fashioned livery and a tall hat. He is saying something to himself, but not a word of it can be made out. The noise behind the stage gets louder and louder. A voice is heard. Let's go in there. Enter Lubav Andriyevna, Anya, and Sherlata Ivanova with a little dog on a chain, and all dressed in travelling clothes. Varya in a long coat and with a kerchief on her head. Gaev, Simeon Pishin, Lopakine, Danyasha with a parcel and an umbrella, and a servant with luggage all cross the room. Let's come through here. Do you remember what this room is, Mother? Lubav, joyfully through her tears. The nursery! How cold it is! My hands are quite numb. To Lubav Andriyevna. Your rooms, the white one and the violet one, are just as they used to be, Mother. My dear nursery! Oh, you beautiful room! I used to sleep here when I was a baby. Oh, and here I am like a little girl again. Kisses her brother, Varya, then her brother again. And Varya is just as she used to be. Just like a nun. And I knew Danyasha. Kisses her. The train was two hours late. There now house that for punctuality. Charlotte, to Pishin. My dog eats nuts, too. I can think of that now. I'll go out except Anya and Danyasha. We did have to wait for you. Takes off Anya's cloak and hat. I didn't get any sleep for four nights on the journey. I'm awfully cold. You went away during Lent when it was snowing in Frosty. But now? Darling! Laughs and kisses her. We did have to wait for you, my joy, my pet. I must tell you at once I can't bear to wait a minute. Something else now. The clerk at the coat-off proposed to me after Easter. Always the same. Puts her hair straight. I've lost all my hairpins. She is very tired and even staggers as she walks. I don't know what to think about it. He loves me. He loves me so much. Moves into her room, in a gentle voice. My room, my windows, as if I'd never gone away. I'm at home. Tomorrow morning I'll get up and have a run in the garden. Oh, if I could only get to sleep, I didn't sleep the whole journey I was so bothered. Peter Sergeyevich came two days ago. Peter! He sleeps in the bath-house. He lives there. He said he was afraid he'd be in the way. Looks at her pocket-watch. I ought to wake him, but Barbara Mihailovna told me not to. Don't wake him, she said. Enter Varya, a bunch of keys on her belt. Dunyasha, some coffee quick. Mother wants some. This minute. Exit. Well, you've come. Glory be to God. Home again. Caressing her. My darling is back again. My pretty one is back again. I did have an awful time, I tell you. I can just imagine it. I went away in holy week. It was very cold then. Charlotte talked the whole way and would go on performing her tricks. Why did you tie Charlotte on to me? You couldn't go alone, darling, at seventeen. We went to Paris. It's cold there and snowing. I talk French perfectly horribly. My mother lives on the fifth floor. I go to her and find her there with various Frenchmen, women, and old abbey with a book, and everything in tobacco smoke and with no comfort at all. I suddenly became very sorry for mother, so sorry that I took her head in my arms and hugged her and wouldn't let her go. Then mother started hugging me and crying. Varya, weeping. Oh, don't say any more. Don't say any more. She's already sold her villa near Mentone. She's nothing left, nothing. And I haven't a copac left either. We only just managed to get here. And mother won't understand. We had dinner at a station. She asked for all the expensive things and tipped the waiters one ruble each. And Charlotte, too. Yasha wants to share, too. It's too bad. Mother's got a footman now, Yasha. We've brought him here. I saw the wretch. How's business? Has the interest been paid? Not much chance of that. Oh, God. Oh, God. The place will be sold in August. Oh, God. No pocking. Look in at the door and moose. Moose. Exit. Varya. Through her tears. I'd like to. Shakes her fist. Anya. Embraces Varya. Softly. Varya. Has he proposed to you? Varya shakes head. But he loves you. Why don't you make up your minds? Why do you keep on waiting? I think that it will all come to nothing. He's a busy man. I'm not his affair. He pays no attention to me. Bless the man. I don't want to see him. But everybody talks about our marriage. Everybody congratulates me, and there's nothing in it at all. It's all like a dream. You've got a brooch like a bee. Anya, sadly. Mother bought it. Goes into her room and talks lightly, like a child. In Paris I went up in a balloon. My darlings come back. My pretty ones come back. Dunyasha has already returned with the coffee pot and is making the coffee. Varya stands near the door. I go about all day, looking after the house. And I think all the time, if only you could marry a rich man, then I'd be happy and would go away somewhere by myself, then to Kiev, to Moscow, and so on, from one holy place to another. I'd tramp and tramp. Oh, that would be splendid. The birds are singing in the garden. What time is it now? Must be getting on for three. Time you went to sleep, darling. Goes into Anya's room. Splendid. Enter Yasha with a plaid shawl and a travelling bag. Yasha, crossing the stage, politely. May I go this way? I hardly knew you, Yasha. You have changed a broad. And who are you? When you went away I was only so high. Playing with her hand. I'm Dunyasha, the daughter of Theodore Kozoyedov. You don't remember. Oh, you little cucumber. Looks round and embraces her. She screams and drops a saucer. Yasha goes out quickly. Varya, in the doorway, in an angry voice. What's that? Dunyasha, through her tears. I've broken a saucer. It may bring luck. Anya, coming out of her room. We must tell Mother that Peter's here. I told them not to wake him. Father died six years ago, and a month later my brother Grisha was drowned in the river. Such a dear little boy of seven. Mother couldn't bear it. She went away, away without looking round. Shudders. How I understand her if only she knew. And Peter Trophimov was Grisha's tutor, he might tell her. Enter Fears in a short jacket and white waistcoat. Fears goes to the coffee pot nervously. The mistress is going to have some food here. Puts on white gloves. Is the coffee ready? To Dunyasha, severely. Eww, where's the cream? Oh, dear me! Rapid exit. Fears, fussing round the coffee pot. Oh, you bungler. Back from Paris. The master went to Paris once. In a carriage. What are you talking about, Fears? I beg your pardon. The mistress is home again. I have lived to see her. Don't care if I die now. Weeps with joy. Enter Lubov Andrievna, Gaev, Lopakin, and Simeon Pishon. The latter in a long jacket of thin cloth and loose trousers. Gaev, coming in, moves his arms and body about as if he is playing billiards. Let me remember now. Red into the corner, twice into the centre. Right into the pocket. Once upon a time you and I used both to sleep in this room, and now I'm fifty-one. It does seem strange. Yes, time does go. Who does? I said that time does go. It smells of patchouli here. I'm going to bed. Good night, mother. Kisses her. My lovely little one. Kisses her hand. Glad to be at home. I can't get over it. Good night, uncle. Kisses her face and hands. God be with you. How do you do resemble your mother? To his sister. You were just like her at her age, Lubov. Varya gives her hand to Lopakim and Pishin, and goes out, shutting the door behind her. She's awfully tired. It is a very long journey. Varya, to Lopakim and Pishin. Well, sirs, it's getting on for three, quite time you went. You're just the same as ever, Varya. Draws her close and kisses her. I'll have some coffee now, then we'll all go. Fears lays a cushion under her feet. Thank you, dear. I'm used to coffee. I drink it day and night. Thank you, dear old man. Kisses, fears. I'll go and see if they've brought in all the luggage. Exit. Is it really I who am sitting here? I want to jump about and wave my arms. Covers her face with her hands. But suppose I'm dreaming. God knows I love my own country. I love it deeply. I couldn't look out of the railway carriage. I cried so much. Still, I must have my coffee. Thank you, fears. Thank you, dear old man. I'm so glad you're still with us. The day before yesterday. He doesn't hear well. I've got to go off to Kharkov by the five o'clock train. I'm awfully sorry. I should like to have a look at you, to gossip a little. You're as fine looking as ever. Even finer looking, dressed in Paris fashions, confound it all. Your brother, Leonid Andreevich, says I'm a snob, a usurer. But that's absolutely nothing to me. Let him talk. Only I do wish you would believe in me, as you once did, that your wonderful touching eyes would look at me as they did before. Merciful God, my father was the surf of your grandfather and your own father. And you? You more than anybody else did so much for me, once upon a time, that I've forgotten everything and love you as if you belong to my family. And even more. I can't sit still. I'm not in a state to do it. Jumps up and walks about in great excitement. I'll never survive this happiness. You can laugh at me. I'm a silly woman. My dear little cupboard. Kisses cupboard. My little table. Nurse has died in your absence. Rubav sits and drinks coffee. Yes, bless her soul. I heard by letter. And Anastasios has died too. Peter Cosoy has left me and now lives in town with the commissioner of police. Picks a box of sugar candy out of his pocket and sucks a piece. My daughter, Deschenka, sends her love. I want to say something very pleasant, very delightful to you. Looks at his watch. I'm going away at once. I haven't much time, but I'll tell you all about it in two or three words. As you already know, your cherry orchard is to be sold to pay your debts, and the sale is fixed for August the 22nd, but you needn't be alarmed, dear madam. You may sleep in peace. There's a way out. Here's my plan. Please attend carefully. Your estate is only thirteen miles from the town. The railway runs by, and if the cherry orchard and the land by the river are broken up into building lots and are then leased off for villas, you'll get at least twenty-five thousand rubles a year profit out of it. How utterly absurd! I don't understand. You were tall, Yermalai Alexiewicz. You will get twenty-five rubles a year for each desiatin from the leaseholders at the very least. And if you advertise now, I'm willing to bet that you won't have a vacant plot left by the autumn. They'll all go. In a word, you're saved. I congratulate you. Only, of course, you'll have to put things straight and clean up. For instance, you'll have to pull down all the old buildings—this house, which isn't any use to anybody now—and cut down the old cherry orchard. Cut it down! My dear man, you must excuse me, but you don't understand anything at all. If there's anything interesting or remarkable in the whole province, it's this cherry orchard of ours. The only red-markable thing about the orchard is that it's very large. It only bears fruit every other year, and even then you don't know what to do with them. Nobody buys any. This orchard is mentioned in the Encyclopedic Dictionary. Lopakin looks at his watch. If we can't think of anything and don't make up our minds to anything, then on August 22nd both the cherry orchard and the whole estate will be up for auction. Make up your mind. I swear there's no other way out. I'll swear it again. In the old days, forty or fifty years back, they dried the cherries, sewed them and pickled them, and made jam of them. And it used to happen that— Be quiet, fierce. Then we would send the dried cherries off in carts to Moscow and Carco, and money, and the dried cherries were soft, juicy, sweet, and nicely scented. They knew the way. What was the way? They have forgotten. Nobody remembers. Peschen, to Lubav Andrievna. What about Paris, eh? Did you eat frogs? I ate crocodiles. To think of that now. Up to now in the villages there were only the gentry and the labourers, and now the people who live in villas have arrived. All towns, now even small ones, are surrounded by villas. And it's safe to say that in twenty years' time the villa resident will be all over the place. At present he sits on his balcony and drinks tea, but it may well come to pass that he'll begin to cultivate his patch of land. Then your cherry orchard will be happy, rich, splendid. What rot! Enter Barya and Yasha. There are two telegrams for you, little mother. Pics out a key, and noisily unlocks an antique cupboard. Here they are. They're from Paris. Tears them up without reading them. I've done with Paris. And do you know, Lubav, how old this case is? A week ago I took out the bottom drawer. I looked and saw figures burnt out in it. That case was made exactly a hundred years ago. What do you think of that? What? We could celebrate it stubily. It hasn't a soul of its own, but still say what you will. It's a fine bookcase. A hundred years? Think of that. Yes, it's a real thing. Handling it. My dear and honoured case, I congratulate you on your existence, which has already for more than a hundred years been directed towards the bright ideals of good and justice. Your silent call to productive labour has not grown less in the hundred years, during which you have uphold virtue and faith in a better future, to the generations of our race, educating us up to ideals of goodness and to the knowledge of a common consciousness. Yes? You're just the same as ever, Leon. I am. A little confused. Off the white on the right into the corner pocket, red ball goes into the middle pocket. No parking looks at his watch. It's time I went. Yasha, giving Lubav Andriyevna her medicine. Will you take your pills now? You oughtn't to take medicines, dear madam. They do you neither harm nor good. Give them here, dear madam. Takes the pills, turns them out into the palm of his hand, blows on them, puts them into his mouth, and drinks some kvass. Ah! There! I've taken all the pills. Gormandizer. Oh, Raph. They were here in his stoic, and ate half a pane full of cucumbers. What's he driving at? He's been mumbling away for three years. We're used to that. Scenile decay. Sholata Ivanova crosses the stage, dressed in white. She is very thin and tightly laced, has a lornette at her waist. Excuse me, Sholata Ivanova, I haven't said how'd you do to you yet. Tries to kiss her hand. Sholata takes her hand away. If you let people kiss your hand, then they'll want your elbow, then your shoulder, and then— My luck's out today. Oh, Raph. Show us a trick, Sholata Ivanova. Sholata, do us a trick. It's not necessary. I want to go to bed. Exit. We shall see each other in three weeks. Kisses Lubav Andriyevna's hand. Now good-bye. It's time to go. To Gaev. See you again. Kisses Pishin. Au revoir. Gives his hand to Varia, then to Fiers, and to Yasha. I don't want to go away. To Lubav Andriyevna. If you think about the villas and make up your mind, then just let me know, and I'll raise a loan of fifty thousand rubles at once. Think about it seriously. Do go now. I'm going. Exit. Snob still I beg pardon. Varia's going to marry him. He's various young men. Don't talk too much, uncle. Why not, Varia? I should be very glad he's a good man. To speak the honest truth, he's a worthy man. And Maidashinga also says that she says lots of things. Snores, but wakes up again at once. But still, dear madam, if you could lend me two hundred and forty rubles to pay the interest on my mortgage tomorrow. We haven't got it. We haven't got it. It's quite true. I've nothing at all. I'll find it all right. I never lose hope. I used to think everything's lost now. I'm a dead man. When, lo and behold, a railway was built over my land. They paid me for it. And something else will happen today or tomorrow. Dushenka may win twenty thousand rubles. She's got a lottery ticket. The coffee's all gone. We can go to bed. Cheers, brushing Gaev's trousers in an insistent tone. You have food on the wrong trousers again. What am I to do with you? Anya's asleep. Opens window quietly. The sun has risen already. It isn't cold. Look, little mother, with lovely trees and the air, the starlings are singing. Gaev opens the other window. The whole garden's white. You haven't forgotten, Lubav. There's that long avenue going straight, straight like a stretched strap. It shines on moonlight nights. Do you remember? You haven't forgotten? Lubav walks out into the garden. Oh, my childhood, days of my innocence. In this nursery I used to sleep. I used to look out from here into the orchard. Happiness used to wake with me every morning. And then it was just as it is now. Nothing has changed. Oh, it's all, all white. Oh, my orchard. After the dark autumns and the cold winters, you're young again, full of happiness. The angels of heaven haven't left you. If only I could take my heavy burden off my breast and shoulders if I could forget my past. Yes, and they'll sell this orchard to pay off debts. How strange it seems. Look, there's my dead mother going in the orchard, dressed in white, that she is. Where? Oh, bless you, little mother. There's nobody there. I thought I saw somebody. On the right, at the turning by the summer house, a white little tree bent down, looking just like a woman. Enter Trofimov in a worn student uniform and spectacles. What a marvellous garden. White masses of flowers, the blue sky. Lyubav Andreyevna. She looks round at him. I only want to show myself and I'll go away. Kisses her hand warmly. I was told to wait till the morning, but I didn't have the patience. Lyubav Andreyevna looks surprised. It's Peter Trofimov. Peter Trofimov. Once the tutor of your Grisha, have I changed so much? Lyubav Andreyevna embraces him and cries softly. That's enough. That's enough, Lyubav. But I told you, Peter, to wait till tomorrow. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, Grisha, my boy. Grisha, my son, oh. What are we to do, little mother? It's the will of God. It's all right. It's all right. My boy is dead. He was drowned. Why, why, my friend? Funious asleep in there. I am speaking so loudly, making such a noise. Well, Peter, what's made you look so bad? Why have you grown so old? In the train, an old woman called me a decayed gentleman. You were quite a boy then, a nice little student. And now your hair is not at all thick and you wear spectacles. Are you really still a student? Goes to the door. I suppose I shall always be a student. Lyubav kisses her brother, then Varya. Well, let's go to bed. And you've grown older, Leonid. Pishin follows her. Yes, we've got to go to bed. My gout, I'll stay the night here. If only Lyubav Andreyevna. My dear, you could get me 240 rubles tomorrow morning. Still the same story. 240 rubles to pay the interest on the mortgage. I haven't any money, dear man. I'll give it back. It's a small sum. Well, then Leonid will give it to you. Let him have it, Leonid. By all means, hold out your hand. Why not? He wants it. He'll give it back. Lyubav Andreyevna, Trafimav, Pishin, and Fiers go out. Gaev, Varya, and Yasha remain. My sister hasn't lost the habit of throwing money about. To Yasha. Stand off, do you smell a poultry? You are just the same as ever, Leonid Andreyevich. Really? To Varya. What's he saying? To Yasha. Your mother's come from the village. She's been sitting in the servants' room since yesterday and wants to see you. Bless the woman. Shameless man. A lot of use there is in her coming. She might have come to-morrow just as well. Exit. Mother hasn't altered a scrap. She's just as she always was. She'd give away everything if the idea only entered her head. Yes. If there's any illness for which people offer many remedies, you may be sure that particular illness is incurable, I think. I work my brains to their hardest. I've several remedies, very many, and that really means I've none at all. It would be nice to inherit a fortune from somebody. It would be nice to marry our Anya to a rich man. It would be nice to go to Daroslav and try my luck with my aunt, the Countess. My aunt is very, very rich. Oh, if only God helped us. Don't cry. My aunt's very rich, but she doesn't like us. My sister in the first place married an advocate, not a noble. Anya appears in the doorway. She not only married a man who was not a noble, but she behaved herself in a way which cannot be described as proper. She's nice and kind and charming, and I'm very fond of her. But say what you will in her favor, and you still have to admit that she's wicked. You can feel it in her slightest movements. Anya's in the doorway. Really? It's curious. Something's got into my right eye. I can't see properly out of it. And on Thursday when I was at the district court. Enter Anya. Why aren't you in bed, Anya? I have to sleep. It's no good. My darling, kisses Anya's face and hands. My child, you're not my niece, you're my angel, you're my oh, believe in me, believe. I do believe in you, uncle. Everybody loves and respects you, but uncle, dear, you ought to say nothing, no more than that. What were you saying just now about my mother, your own sister? Why did you say those things? Yes, yes. Covers his face with her hand. Yes, really, it was awful. Save me, my God, and only just now I made a speech before a bookcase. It's so silly. And only when I'd finished I knew how silly it was. Yes, uncle, dear, you really ought to say less. Keep quiet, that's all. You'd be so much happier in yourself if you only kept quiet. All right, I'll be quiet. Kisses their hands. I'll be quiet, but let's talk business. On Thursday I was in the district court, and a lot of us met there together, and we began to talk of this, that, and the other, and now I think I can arrange a loan to pay the interest into the bank. If only God would help us. I'll go on Tuesday. I'll talk with them about it again. To varia. Don't howl. To Anya. Your mother will have a talk to Lopkin. He of course won't refuse, and when you've rested you'll go to Jaroslav to the Countess, your grandmother. So you'll see, we'll have three irons in the fire, and we'll be safe. We'll pay up the interest. I am certain. Put some sugar candy into his mouth. I swear on my honor on anything you will, that this date will not be sold. I swear on my happiness. Here's my hand. You may call me a dishonorable rich if I let it go to auction. I swear by all I am. She is calm again, and happy. How good and clever you are, uncle. Embraces him. I'm happy now. I'm happy, all's well. Leonard Andreevich, don't you hear gout, when are you going to bed? Soon, soon, you go away, fierce, I'll undress myself. Well, children, bye-bye. I'll give you the details tomorrow, but let's go to bed now. Kisses Anya and varia. I'm a man of the 80s. People don't praise those years much, but I can still say that I've suffered for my beliefs. The peasants don't love me for nothing, I assure you. We've got to learn to know the peasants. We ought to learn how... You're doing it again, uncle. Be quiet, uncle. Leonard Andreevich. I'm coming, I'm coming. Go to bed now. Off two cushions into the middle. I turn over a new leaf. Exit. Fierce goes out after him. I'm quieter now. I don't want to go to Yaroslav. I don't like grandmother, but I'm calm now, thanks to uncle. Sits down. Oh, it's time to go to sleep. I'll go. There's been an unpleasantness here while you were away. In the old servants' part of the house, as you know, only the old people live. Little old Yefim and Polia and Yevstigny and Karp as well. They started letting some tramps or others spend the night there. I said nothing. Then I heard that they were saying that I had ordered them to be fed on peas and nothing else for meanness, you see. And it was all Yevstigny's doing. Very well, I thought, if that's what the matter is, just you wait. So I call Yevstigny. Oh! He comes. What's this, I say, Yevstigny, you old fool? Looks at Anya. Oh! Anya, dear! She's dropped off. Takes Anya's arm. Let's go to Baibai. Come along. Leads her. My darling's gone to sleep. Come on. They go. In the distance, the other side of the orchard, a shepherd, plays his pipe. Trafimov crosses the stage and stops on Singvarya and Anya. Shhh! She's asleep. A sleep! Come on, dear. I'm so tired. All the bells. Uncle, dear. Mother and uncle. Come on, dear. Come on. They go into Anya's room. My son. My spring. Curtain. End of Act One. Act Two of the Cherry Orchard by Anton Chekhov, translated by Julius West. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act Two. In a field, an old crooked shrine which has been long abandoned, near it a well and large stones, which apparently are old tombstones and an old garden seat. The road is seen to Gaev's estate. On one side rise dark poplars. Behind them begins the Cherry Orchard. In the distance is a row of telegraph poles. And far, far away on the horizon are the indistinct signs of a large town, which can only be seen on the finest and clearest days. It is close on sunset. Charlotte, Yasha, and Dun Yasha are sitting on the seat. Yipikadov stands by and plays on a guitar. All seem thoughtful. Charlotte wears a man's old-peak cap. She has unsung a rifle from her shoulders and is putting to rights the buckle on the strap. I haven't a real passport. I don't know how old I am, but I think I'm young. When I was a little girl, my father and mother used to go round fairs and give very good performances. And I used to do this Salto Matala in various little things. And when Papa and Mama died, a German lady took me to her and began to teach me. I liked it. I grew up and became a governess. And where I came from and who I am, I don't know. Who my parents were. Perhaps they weren't married. I don't know. Takes a cucumber out of her pocket and eats. I don't know anything. I do want to talk, but I haven't anybody to talk to. I haven't anybody at all. Yipikadov plays on the guitar and sings. What is this noisy earth to me? What matter, friends and foes? I do like playing on the mandolin. That's a guitar, not a mandolin. Looks at herself in a little mirror and powders herself. For the enamored madman, this is a mandolin. Yasha sings, too. Oh, that the heart was warmed by all the flames of love returned. These people sing terribly, phew, like jackals. To Yasha. Still, it must be nice to live abroad. Yes, certainly. I cannot differ from you there. Yons and lights a cigar. That is perfectly natural. Abroad everything is in full complexity. That goes without saying. 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. I've done. Now I'll go. Slings the rifle. You, Yipikadov, are a very clever man and very terrible. Women must be madly in love with you. 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. 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 kvas, why is it that there is bound to be something of the most indelicate nature in it, such as a beetle? Have you read Buckle? I should like to trouble you, Avdotya Fedorovna, for two words. Say on. I should prefer to be alone with you. Very well. Only first bring me my little cloak. It's by the cupboard. It's a little damp here. Very well, I'll bring it. Now I know what to do with my revolver. Takes guitar and exits. Strumming. Two and twenty troubles. A silly man between you, me, and the gatepost. I hope to goodness he won't shoot himself. 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. Kisses her. Little cucumber. Of course, every girl must respect herself. There's nothing I dislike more than a badly behaved girl. I'm awfully in love with you. You're educated. You can talk about everything. Oh, yes. I think this. If a girl loves anybody, then that means she's immoral. It's nice to smoke a cigar out in the open air. 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 that I've been meeting you. I can't stand that sort of thing. My head's aching because of your cigar. Exit. Yasha remains sitting by the shrine. Enter Lubav Andriyevna, Gaya and Lopakin. 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. Who's smoking horrible cigars here? Sits. 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. You'll have time. Just one word. Give me an answer. Really. Looks in her purse. I had a lot of money yesterday, but there's very little today. My poor varia 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. They're all over the place. Permit me to pick them up. Collects the coins. Please do, Yasha. And why did I go and have lunch there? A horrid restaurant with band and tablecloth 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 today in the restaurant, and it wasn't at all to the point. About the seventies and about decadence. And to whom? Talking to the waiters about decadence. Yes. Gaev waves his hand. I can't pick you, that's obvious. Irritably to Yasha. What's the matter? Why do you keep twisting about in front of me? I can't listen to your voice without laughing. Gaev to his sister. Either he or I. Go away, Yasha, get out of this. Yasha gives purse to Lubav Andriyevna. I'll go at once. Hardly able to keep from laughing. This minute. Exit. That rich man Dereganov is preparing to buy your estate. They say he'll come to the sale himself. Where did you hear that? They say so in town. Our Yaroslav aunt has promised to send something, but I don't know when or how much. How much will she send? A hundred thousand rubles? Or two, perhaps? I'd be glad of ten or fifteen thousand. You must excuse my saying so, but I've never met such frivolous people as you before, or anybody so un-business-like and peculiar. Here I am telling you in plain language that your estate will be sold, and you don't seem to understand. What are we to do? Tell us what. 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. Villas and villa residents. It's so vulgar. Excuse me. I entirely agree with you. I must cry or yell or faint. I can't stand if you're too much for me. Tugayo. You old woman. Really, old woman? Going out. No. Don't go away. Do stop. Be a dear. Please. Perhaps we'll find some way out. What's the good of trying to think? Please, don't go away. It's nicer when you're here. I keep on waiting for something to happen, as if the house is going to collapse over our heads. Double in the corner across the middle. We have been too sinful. What sins have you committed? What's candy into his mouth? They say that I've eaten all my substance in sugarcandice. 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 to 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. Lord, Lord, be merciful to me. Forgive me my sins. Punish me no more. I had this today from Paris. He begs my forgiveness. He implores me to return. Don't I hear music? That is our celebrated Jewish band. You remember four violins, a flute and a double bass? So it still exists. It would be nice if they came along some evening. I can't hear. For money will the Germans make a Frenchman of a Russian? I saw such an awfully funny thing at the theatre last night. 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. It's true. To speak the straight truth we live a silly life. 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 never learned anything. My handwriting is bad. I write so that I'm quite ashamed before people like a pig. You ought to get married, my friend. Yes. That's true. Why not to Avaria? She's a nice girl. Yes. 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. Well, I don't mind. She's a nice girl. I'm offered a place in the bank. 6,000 rubles a year. Did you hear? What's the matter with you? Stay where you are. Enter fears with an overcoat to Gaev. Please, sir. Put this on. It's damp. Putting it on. You're a nuisance, old man. It's all very well. You went away this morning without telling me. Examining Gaev. Old you've grown fears. I beg your pardon. She says you've grown very old. I've been alive a long time. They were already getting ready to marry me before your father was born. And when the emancipation came, I was already first felled. Only I didn't agree with the emancipation and remained due to my people. I remember everybody was happy. But they didn't know why. It was very good for them in the old days. At any rate, they used to beat them. Rather. The pagans kept a distance from the masters. And the masters kept the distance from the pagans. But now everything is already half. And you can't understand anything. Be quiet, fears. 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. Nothing will come of it and you won't pay your interest, don't you worry. He's talking rubbish. There's no general at all. Enter Trafimov, Anya and Buria. Here they are. Mother's sitting down here. Come, come, my dears. Embracing Anya and Buria. If you two only knew how much I love you, sit down next to me like that. I'll sit down. Our eternal student is always with the ladies. That's not your business. He'll soon be fifty and he's still a student. Leave off, you silly jokes. Getting angry, eh? Silly. Shut up, can't you? I wonder what you think of me. I think, Yermilay Alekseevich, that you are 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 matters, so you are needed too. All right. Better tell us something about the planets, Peter. No, let's go on with yesterday's talk. About what? About the proud man. 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. You'll die all the same. Who knows? 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 95 are left alive. How clever of you, Peter. Oh awfully. The human race progresses, perfecting its powers. Everything that is unattainable now will someday be near at hand and comprehensible 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 intellectual 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, 99 out of 100, live like savages. Fighting and cursing at the slightest opportunity, eating filthily, sleeping in the dirt in stuffiness with freeze 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 these crushes 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. You know, I get up at five every morning. I work from morning till evening. I'm always dealing with money, by own and other peoples. 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 forest, infinite fields and endless horizons. And we, living here, ought rarely to be giants. You aren't giants, do you? They're only good in stories. And even there they frighten one. Yepikodov enters at the back of the stage, playing his guitar. Yepikodov's there. Yepikodov's there. The sun's set, ladies and gentlemen. Yes. Oh nature, thou art wonderful. Thou shiniest with eternal regions. O beautiful and indifferent one, Thou whom we call mother, Thou containest in thy self-existence and death. Thou livest and destroyest. Uncle, dear. Uncle, you're doing it again. You'd better double the red into the middle. I'll be quiet, I'll be quiet. They all set thoughtfully. It is quiet. Only the mumbling of fears is heard. Suddenly a distant sound is heard as if from the sky. The sound of a breaking string, which dies away sadly. What's that? I don't know. It may be a bucket fallen down a well somewhere. But it's somewhere else. Or perhaps it's some bird, like a heron. Or an owl. It's unpleasant somehow. Before the misfortune the same thing happened. An owl scrimmed. And the same of a hump without stopping. Before what, misfortune? Before the emancipation. You know, my friend, let's go in. It's evening now. Tuania. You've tears in your eyes. What is it, little girl? Embraces her. It's nothing, mother. Someone's coming. Enter a tramp in an old white peaked cap and overcoat. He is a little drunk. Excuse me. May I go this way, straight ahead of the station? You may. Go along this path. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Well, the weather. My brother. My saffron brother. Come out on the Volga. You, whose growth. Tuvaria. Then, Muzel, please give a hungry Russian thirty culpics. Various screams, frightened. Those manners everybody's got to keep. Take this. Here you are. Fields in her purse. There's no silver. It doesn't matter. Here's gold. I'm deeply grateful to you. Exit. I'm going. I'm going. Little mother at home, there's nothing for the servants to eat, and you gave him gold. What is to be done with such a fool as I am? At home I'll give you everything I've got. Yeah, Malayalevich, lend me some more. Very well. Let's go. It's time. And, Varia, we've settled your affair. I congratulate you. You shouldn't joke about this, mother. Oh, feel me. Get thee to a nunnery. My hands are all trembling. I haven't played billiards for a long time. Oh, feel me, nymph. Remember me in thine orisons. Come along. It'll soon be supper time. He did frighten me. My heart is beating hard. Let me remind you, ladies and gentlemen, on August twenty-second, the cherry orchard will be sold. Think of that. Think of that. All go out except Trafimov and Anya. Thanks to the tramp who frighten Barbara. We're alone now. Varia'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 would prevent our being happy and free. That is the aim and meaning of our lives. Forward! We go irresistibly onto that bright star which burns there in the distance. Don't lag behind, friends. Anya, clapping her hands. How beautifully you talk. It is glorious here today. Yes, the weather is wonderful. 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. Oh, Russia is our orchard. The land is great and beautiful. There are many marvelous places in it. Think, Anya. Your grandfather, your great grandfather and all your ancestors were surf 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 labor. Understand that, Anya. The house in which we live has long ceased to be our house. I shall go away. I give you my word. If you have the housekeeping keys throw them down the well and go away. Be as free as the wind. How nicely you said that. Believe me, Anya. Believe me. I'm not 30 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. The moon is rising. Yipakadov 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? Yes, the moon has risen. There is happiness. There it comes. It comes nearer and nearer. I hear it steps already. And if we do not see it, we shall not know it. But what does that matter? Others will see it. Anya, where are you? Let's Varya again. Disgraceful. Never mind. Let's go to the river. It's nice there. Let's go. They go out. Anya. Anya. Curtain. End of Act 2. Act 3 of The Cherry Orchard by Anton Chekhov. Translated by Julius West. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act 3. A reception room cut off from a drawing room by an arch. Chandelier lighted. A Jewish band, the one mentioned in Act 2, has heard playing in another room. Evening. In the drawing room, the grand ronde is being danced. Voice of Simeon Pishin. Promenade, you pair. Dancers come into the reception room. The first pair are Pishin and Charlotte Ivanova. The second, Trafimov and Lubav Andriyevna. 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. Pishin shouting. Grand ronde. Balancé. And... Les cavaliers à genoux. Et très merci, Vodam. Fears, in a dress coat, carries a tray with seltzer water across. And to Pishin and Trafimov from the drawing room. Ha! 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 to joke, peace to his bones, used to say, talking of our ancestors, that the ancient stock of the Simeon Pishins was descended from that identical horse that Caligula made a senator. But the trouble is, I have no money. A hungry dog only believes in meat. Snores and wakes up again immediately. So I only believe in money. Yes, there is something equine about your figure. Well, a horse is a fine animal. You can sell a horse. Billiard playing can be heard in the next room. Varia appears under the arch. Madame Lopakine! Madame Lopakine! Decade gentleman. Yes, I am a decayed gentleman, and I'm proud of it. We've hired the musicians, but how are they to be paid? Exit to Pishin. If the energy which you, in the course of your life, have spent in looking for money to pay interest is used for something else, then I believe, after all, you'd be able to turn everything upside down. Nietzsche, a philosopher, a very great, a most celebrated man, a man of enormous brain, says in his books, that you can forge banknotes. And have you read Nietzsche? Well, Deschinka told me. Well, I'm in such a position. I wouldn't mind forging them. I've got to pay 310 rubles the day after tomorrow. I've got 130 already. Feels his pockets nervously. I've lost the money. The money's gone. Where's the money? Here it is, behind the lining. Oh, I even began to perspire. Enter Ubov Andrievna and Charlotte Ivanova. Why is Lemya away so long? What's he doing in town? Don Yasha, give the musicians some tea. Business is off, I suppose. And the musicians needn't have come. And we needn't have caught up this ball. Well, never mind. Sits and sings softly. Charlotte gives a pack of cards to Peschen. Here's a pack of cards. Think of any one card you like. I thought of one. Now shuffle. Alright, now give them here. Oh, my dear Mr. Peschen. 1, 2, 3. Now look and you'll find it in your coattail pocket. Peschen takes a card out of his coattail pocket. Eight of spades. Quite right. Think of that now. Charlotte holds the pack of cards on the palm of her hand to Trafimov. Now tell me quickly, what's the top card? Well, the Queen of Spades. Right. To Peschen. Well now, what card's on top? Ace of Hearts. Right. Claps her hands. The pack of cards vanishes. How lovely the weather is today. A mysterious woman's voice answers her, as if from under the floor. Oh, yes. It's lovely weather, Madame. You're so beautiful. You are my ideal. Voice. You, Madame, please me very much too. Station Master, applause. Madame, ventriloquist. Bravo! Think of that now. Delightful Charlotte Ivanova. Oh, I'm simply in love. In love? Shrugging her shoulders. Can you love? Gutter Mensch, aber schlechte Musikant. Trafimov slaps Peschen on the shoulder. Oh, you horse. Attention please, here's another trick. Takes a shawl from a chair. Here's a very nice blade shawl. I'm going to sell it. Shakes it. Want anybody buy it? Think of that now. Eins, 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. Oh, Bravo! Once again. Eins, zwei, drei. Lifts the shawl. Varia stands behind it and bows. Think of that now. The end. Throws the shawl at Peschen, curtsies, and runs into the drawing room. Peschen runs after her. Little Rich, what would you? Exit. 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? Uncle has bought it. I'm certain of it. Oh, yes. 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. Grandmother sent 15,000 rubles 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 today, my fate. Trafimov, teasing Varia. Madame Loparkin? Eternal student. He's already been expelled twice from the university. Why are you getting angry, Varia? He's teasing you about Loparkin. Well, what of it? You can marry Loparkin 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. I do look at the matter seriously, little mother, to be quite frank. He's a good man, and I like him. Then marry him. I don't understand what you're waiting for. 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 rubles, I'd throw up everything and go away. I'd go into a convent. How nice! A student ought to have sense. How ugly you are now, Peter. How old you've grown. But I can't go on without working, little mother. I want to be doing something every minute. Enter Yasha. Yepikotov's broken a billiard cue. Exit. Why is Yepikotov here? Who said he could play billiards? I don't understand these people. Exit. Don't tease her, Peter. You see that she's quite unhappy without that. 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're above love. Then I suppose I must be beneath love. Why isn't there Anya 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. Isn't it all the same whether the estate is sold today 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. 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've 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. My son was drowned here. Have pity on me, good kind man. You know, I sympathise with all my soul. Yes, but it ought to be said differently, differently. Takes another handkerchief. A telegram falls on the floor. I'm so sick at heart today, 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. You're funny. Truffee mug. Picking up telegram. I don't want to be a beau-brummel. This telegram's from Paris. I get one every day. Yesterday and today. 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, unhappied. 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. Don't think badly of me, Peter. Don't say anything to me. Don't say it. For God's sake, forgive my speaking candidly, but that man has robbed you. No, no, no. You oughtn't to say that. Stop, sir, ears. But he's a wretch. You alone don't know it. He's a petty thief, a nobody. You're a 26 or 27 and still a schoolboy of the second class. Why not? 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. Yes, yes. You aren't pure. You're just a freak, a queer fellow, a funny growth. What is she saying? I'm above love. You're not above love. You're just what our fears cause a bungler. Not to have a mistress at your age. This is awful. What is she saying? Goes quickly up into the drawing-room, clutching his hand. This is awful. I can't stand it. I'll go away. Exit, but returns at once. All is over between us. Exit. Peter, wait. Silly man, I was joking. Peter. Somebody has heard going out and falling downstairs noisily. Anya and Varia scream. Laughter is heard immediately. What's that? Anya comes running in, laughing. Peter's falling downstairs. Runs out again. This Peter's a marvel. The station master stands in the middle of the drawing-room and recites the Magdalene 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, Varia, and Lubav and Dreevna come in from the front room. Well, Peter, you're pure soul. I beg your pardon. Let's dance. She dances with Peter. Anya and Varia dance. Fears enters and stands to stick by a side door. Yasha has also come in and looks on at the dance. Well, grandfather. I am not well. At our balls sometime back, generals and barons and admirals used to dance. And now we stand for post office clerks and the station master, and even they come as a favour. I am very weak. The dead master, the grandfather, used to give everybody sitting wax when anything was wrong. I have taken sitting wax every day for twenty years and more. Perhaps that's why I still leave. I'm tired of you, grandfather. If you'd only hurry up and kick the bucket. Oh, you bunt. Trofimov and Lubav Andreevna dance in the reception room, then into the sitting room. Merci. I'll sit down. Sets. I'm tired. Enter Anya. Somebody in the kitchen was saying just now that the cherry orchard was sold today. Sold to whom? He didn't say to whom. He's gone now. Dances out into the reception room with Trofimov. Some old man was chattering about it a long time ago. A stranger. Andleinid Andreevich isn't here yet. He hasn't come. He's wearing a light demisation overcoat. He'll catch cold. Oh, these young fellows. Oh, tired of this. Go and find out, Yasha, to whom it's sold. Oh, but he's been gone a long time, the old man. Why do you laugh? What are you glad about? Yepikogov's too funny. He's a silly man. Two and twenty troubles. Piers, if this state is sold, where will you go? I'll go wherever you order me to go. Why do you look like that? Are you ill? I think you ought to go to bed. Yes. I'll go to bed. And who will hand things round and give orders without me? I have the whole house on my shoulders. 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. 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 fear who's walking about mumbling various inappropriate things. Take me with you. Be so kind. Enter, patient. I come to ask for the pleasure of a little waltz, dear lady. Lubav Andriyevna goes to him. But all the same, you wonderful woman. I must have a hundred and eighty little rubles from you. I must. They dance. A hundred and eighty little rubles. They go through into the drawing room. Oh, will you understand my soul's deep restlessness? In the drawing room, a figure in a grey top hat and in baggy checked trousers is waving its hands and jumping about. There are cries of bravo, Charlotte Ivanova. 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, fears Nikolayevich. The post office clerk told me something just now, which made me catch my breath. The music grows faint. What did he say to you? He says, you're like a little flower. Impolite. Exit. Like a little flower. I'm such a delicate girl. I simply love words of tenderness. You will lose your head. Enter. Yepikara. You have got your Fedorovna want to see me no more than if I was some inset. Oh, life! What do you want? Undoubtedly. Perhaps you may be right. 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— Please, we'll talk later on, but leave me alone now. I'm meditating now. Plays with her fan. 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. Haven't you gone yet, Semyon? You really have no respect for anybody. You go away, Donyasha. Do Yepikara. You play billiards and break a cue and walk about the drawing-room as if you were a visitor. You cannot, if I may say so, call me to order. 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. 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. You dare to talk to me like that. You dare. You mean that I know nothing? Get out of here, this minute. I must ask you to express yourself more delicately. 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. Yepikara 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 fears by the door. Go. Go. Go. I'll show you. Are you going? Are you going? We'll then take that. She hits out as Lopakin enters. Much obliged. I'm sorry. Never mind. I thank you for my pleasant reception. It isn't worth any thanks. Walks away, then looks back and asks gently. I didn't hurt you, did I? No, not at all. There'll be an enormous bump, that's all. Voices from the drawing-room. Lopakin's returned. Yomolai Alekseyevich. Now we'll see what there is to see and hear what there is to hear. Kisses, Lopakin. Nyak, my dear. My soul. And we're all having a good time. Enter Lubav Andreyevna. Is that you, Yomolai Alekseyevich? Why were you so long? Where's Leonid? Leonid Andreyevich came back with me. He's coming. Well, what? Is it sold? Tell me. Lopakin. Confused. Afraid to show his pleasure. The sale ended up at four o'clock. We missed the train and had to wait till half-mast nine. Oh! 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. Leon? What's happened? Leon? Well? Quick, for the love of God! Gaev says nothing to her, only waves his hand. To fears weeping. Here, take this. Here are Anshu's herrings from Ketch. I've had no food today. I've 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 close fears. Goes out through the drawing-room, fears after him. What happened? Come on, tell us. Is the cherry orchard sold? It is sold. Who bought it? I bought it. Lubav Andriyevna is overwhelmed. She would fall if she were not standing by an armchair and a table. Maria takes her keys off her belt, throws them on the floor, into the middle of the room, and goes out. I bought it. Wait, ladies and gentlemen, please. My head's going round. I can't talk. Ha-ha-ha! When we got to the sale, Deregarnov was there already. Lady Deregarnov had only fifteen thousand rubles, and Deregarnov 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 a mortgage, and it stayed with me. The cherry orchard is mine now. Mine! Oh-ho-ho! My God! My God! The cherry orchard's mine! Tell me I'm drunk, or mad, or dreaming. Don't laugh at me if my father and grandfather rose from their graves and looked at the whole affair, and saw how they're Yamalai. They're beaten and uneducated Yamalai, who used to run barefoot in the winter. How that very Yamalai 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 must sleep. 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. Well, it's all one. Here's the band tuning up. Hey, musicians, play. I want to hear you. Come and look at Yamalai 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. Lubav Andreevna 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. Oh, if only the whole thing was done with. If only our uneven, unhappy life were changed. Pishin takes his arm. Geez, crying. Let's go into the drawing room and leave her by herself. Come on. Takes his arm and leads him out. What's that? Bandsman play nicely. Go on. Do just as I want you to. 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 Pishin. In the reception room and the drawing room, nobody remains except Lubav Andreevna, who sits huddled up and weeping bitterly. The band plays softly. Anya and Trafimov come in quickly. Anya goes up to her mother and goes on her knees in front of her. Trafimov stands at the drawing room entrance. Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! 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. End of Act 3.