Selected plays

by Anton Chekhov

  VARYA. [Frightened] We haven't got it, we haven't got it!

  LUBOV. It's quite true. I've nothing at all.

  PISCHIN. I'll find it all right [Laughs] 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 . . . and they paid me for it. And something else will happen to-day or to-morrow. Dashenka may win 20,000 roubles . . . she's got a lottery ticket.

  LUBOV. The coffee's all gone, we can go to bed.

  FIERS. [Brushing GAEV'S trousers; in an insistent tone] You've put on the wrong trousers again. What am I to do with you?

  VARYA. [Quietly] Anya's asleep. [Opens window quietly] The sun has risen already; it isn't cold. Look, little mother: what lovely trees! And the air! The starlings are singing!

  GAEV. [Opens the other window] The whole garden's white. You haven't forgotten, Luba ? There's that long avenue going straight, straight, like a stretched strap; it shines on moonlight nights. Do you remember? You haven't forgotten?

  LUBOV. [Looks 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. [Laughs from joy] 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!

  GAEV. Yes, and they'll sell this orchard to pay off debts. How strange it seems!

  LUBOV. Look, there's my dead mother going in the orchard . . . dressed in white! [Laughs from joy] That's she.

  GAEV. Where?

  VARYA. God bless you, little mother.

  LUBOV. 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. . . .

  TROFIMOV. Lubov 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.

  [LUBOV ANDREYEVNA looks surprised.]

  VARYA. [Crying] It's Peter Trofimov.

  TROFIMOV. Peter Trofimov, once the tutor of your Grisha. . . . Have I changed so much?

  LUBOV ANDREYEVNA embraces him and cries softly.

  GAEV. [Confused] That's enough, that's enough, Luba.

  VARYA. [Weeps] But I told you, Peter, to wait till to-morrow.

  LUBOV. My Grisha . . . my boy . . . Grisha . . . my son.

  VARYA. What are we to do, little mother? It's the will of God.

  TROFIMOV. [Softly, through his tears] It's all right, it's all right.

  LUBOV. [Still weeping] My boy's dead; he was drowned. Why? Why, my friend? [Softly] Anya's 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?

  TROFIMOV. In the train an old woman called me a decayed gentleman.

  LUBOV. 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.]

  TROFIMOV. I suppose I shall always be a student.

  LUBOV. [Kisses her brother, then VARYA] Well, let's go to bed. . . . And you've grown older, Leonid.

  PISCHIN. [Follows her] Yes, we've got to go to bed. . . . Oh, my gout! I'll stay the night here. If only, Lubov Andreyevna, my dear, you could get me 240 roubles to-morrow morning--

  GAEV. Still the same story.

  PISCHIN. Two hundred and forty roubles . . . to pay the interest on the mortgage.

  LUBOV. I haven't any money, dear man.

  PISCHIN. I'll give it back . . . it's a small sum. . .

  LUBOV. Well, then, Leonid will give it to you. . . Let him have it, Leonid.

  GAEV. By all means; hold out your hand.

  LUBOV. Why not? He wants it; he'll give it back.

  LUBOV ANDREYEVNA, TROFIMOV, PISCHIN, and FIERS go out. GAEV, VARYA, and YASHA remain.

  GAEV. My sister hasn't lost the habit of throwing money about. [To YASHA] Stand off, do; you smell of poultry.

  YASHA. [Grins] You are just the same as ever, Leonid Andreyevitch.

  GAEV. Really? [To VARYA] What's he saying?

  VARYA. [To YASHA] Your mother's come from the village; she's been sitting in the servants' room since yesterday, and wants to see you. . . .

  YASHA. Bless the woman!

  VARYA. Shameless man.

  YASHA. A lot of use there is in her coming. She might have come tomorrow just as well. [Exit.]

  VARYA. 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.

  GAEV. Yes. . . . [Pause] 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 Yaroslav and try my luck with my aunt the Countess. My aunt is very, very rich.

  VARYA. [Weeps] If only God helped us.

  GAEV. 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 favour and you still have to admit that she's wicked; you can feel it in her slightest movements.

  VARYA. [Whispers] Anya's in the doorway.

  GAEV. Really? [Pause] 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.

  VARYA. Why aren't you in bed, Anya?

  ANYA. Can't sleep. It's no good.

  GAEV. My darling! [Kisses ANYA'S face and hands] My child. . . . [Crying] You're not my niece, you're my angel, you're my all. . . Believe in me, believe. . .

  ANYA. I do believe in you, uncle. Everybody loves you 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?

  GAEV. 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.

  VARYA. Yes, uncle dear, you really ought to say less. Keep quiet, that's all.

  ANYA. You'd be so much happier in yourself if you only kept quiet.

  GAEV. 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.

  VARYA. If only God would help us!

  GAEV. I'll go on Tuesday. I'll talk with them about it again. [To VARYA] Don't howl. [To ANYA] Your mother will have a talk to Lopakhin; he, of course, won't refuse . . . And when you've rested you'll go to Yaroslav to the Countess, your grandmother. So you see, we'll have three irons in the fire, and we'll be safe. We'll pay up the interest. I'm certain. [Puts some sugar-candy into his mouth] I swear on my honour, on anything you will, that the estate will not be sold! [Excitedly] I swear on my happiness! Here's my hand. You may call me a dishonourable wretch if I let it go to auction! I swear by all I am!

  ANYA. [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!

  Enter FIERS.

  FIERS. [Reproachfully]
Leonid Andreyevitch, don't you fear God? When are you going to bed?

  GAEV. Soon, soon. You go away, Fiers. I'll undress myself. Well, children, bye-bye . . .! I'll give you the details to-morrow, but let's go to bed now. [Kisses ANYA and VARYA] I'm a man of the eighties. . . . 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. . . .

  ANYA. You're doing it again, uncle!

  VARYA. Be quiet, uncle!

  FIERS. [Angrily] Leonid Andreyevitch!

  GAEV. I'm coming, I'm coming. . . . Go to bed now. Off two cushions into the middle! I turn over a new leaf. . .

  Exit. FIERS goes out after him.

  ANYA. 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.]

  VARYA. 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 Efim and Polya and Evstigney, and Karp as well. They started letting some tramps or other 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; from meanness, you see. . . . And it was all Evstigney's doing. . . . Very well, I thought, if that's what the matter is, just you wait. So I call Evstigney. . . . [Yawns] He comes. "What's this," I say, "Evstigney, you old fool. . . . [Looks at ANYA] Anya dear! [Pause] She's dropped off. . . . [Takes ANYA'S arm] Let's go to bye-bye. . . . 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. TROFIMOV crosses the stage and stops on seeing VARYA and ANYA] Sh! She's asleep, asleep. Come on, dear.

  ANYA. [Quietly, half-asleep] I'm so tired . . . all the bells . . . uncle, dear! Mother and uncle!

  VARYA. Come on, dear, come on! [They go into ANYA'S room.]

  TROFIMOV. [Moved] My sun! My spring!

  Curtain.

  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. CHARLOTTA, YASHA, and DUNYASHA are sitting on the seat; EPIKHODOV stands by and plays on a guitar; all seem thoughtful. CHARLOTTA wears a man's old peaked cap; she has unslung a rifle from her shoulders and is putting to rights the buckle on the strap.

  CHARLOTTA. [Thoughtfully] I haven't a real passport. I don't know how old I am, and 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 the salto mortale and various little things. And when papa and mamma 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. [Pause] I do want to talk, but I haven't anybody to talk to . . . I haven't anybody at all.

  EPIKHODOV. [Plays on the guitar and sings]

  "What is this noisy earth to me,

  What matter friends and foes?"

  I do like playing on the mandoline!

  DUNYASHA. That's a guitar, not a mandoline.

  [Looks at herself in a little mirror and powders herself.]

  EPIKHODOV. For the enamoured madman, this is a mandoline. [Sings]

  "Oh that the heart was warmed,

  By all the flames of love returned!"

  YASHA sings too.

  CHARLOTTA. These people sing terribly. . . . Foo! Like jackals.

  DUNYASHA. [To YASHA] Still, it must be nice to live abroad.

  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 tableclo
ths 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!