FIRS [reproachfully]: Leonid Andreich, have you no fear of God! When are you going to bed?
GAYEV: Right away. You go, Firs. If I have to, I’ll undress by myself. Well, children, bedtime ... We’ll go over the details tomorrow, but go to bed now. [Kisses Anya and Varya.] I am a man of the Eighties4 ... People don’t speak well of that period, but all the same I can say that in my time I’ve had a lot of attacks for my convictions. The muzhik has good reason to love me. You have to know the muzhik! You have to know how ...
ANYA: You’re off again, Uncle!
VARYA: Uncle dear, be quiet.
FIRS [crossly]: Leonid Andreich!
GAYEV: I’m going, I’m going ... Go to bed. Off two cushions into the middle! Straight in the pocket without touching the sides ... [Goes out, FIRS hobbles after him.]
ANYA: I’m calm now. I don’t want to go to Yaroslavl, I don’t like Great-aunt, but all the same I’m calm. Thanks to Uncle. [Sits down.]
VARYA: I must get some sleep. I’m going to bed. We had a problem here when you were away. As you know, there are only old servants living in the old quarters: Yefimyushka, Polya, Yevstigney, and Karp too. They started letting some vagrants spend the night there — I didn’t say anything. Only then I heard they spread a rumour I’d said to give them only dried peas to eat. Out of stinginess, you see ... And that was all Yevstigney ... Very well, I thought. If it’s like that, I thought, wait a moment. I call in Yevstigney ... [Yawns.] He comes ... Yevstigney, I say, how can you ... what a fool you are ... [Looking at Anya.] Anechka! ...
[A pause.]
She’s gone to sleep! ... [Takes Anya by the arm.] Come to your little bed ... Come on! ... [Leads her.] My little girl went to sleep! Come on ...
[They go off. A shepherd is playing his pipe in the distance, outside the garden. TROFIMOV walks across the stage and, seeing Varya and Anya, stops.]
VARYA: Shh ... She’s asleep ... asleep ... Come, darling.
ANYA [softly, half-asleep]: I’m so tired ... I can still hear the harness bells jingling ... Dear ... Uncle ... and Mama and Uncle ...
VARYA: Come on, darling, come ... [They go out into Anya’s room.]
TROFIMOV [overcome by emotion]: My sun! My springtime!
[Curtain.]
Act Two
The countryside. A little old wayside shrine, crooked and long abandoned, beside it a well, big stones, clearly tombstones, and an old bench. The road to Gayev’s estate can be seen. At one side are the tall, dark shapes of poplars: that is where the cherry orchard begins. In the distance is a line of telegraph poles and far off on the horizon the blur of a big town, only visible in very fine, clear weather. It is soon going to be sunset.
[CHARLOTTA, YASHA and DUNYASHA are sitting on the bench; YEPIKHODOV is standing by them and playing the guitar; they are all sitting thinking. CHARLOTTA is wearing an old peak-cap; she has taken a gun from her shoulder and is fixing a buckle on its strap.]
CHARLOTTA [musing]: I have no proper passport, I don’t know how old I am, so I always think I’m young. When I was a little girl my father and mother travelled round fairs and gave performances, very good ones. And I used to do the salto mortale1and all kinds of tricks. And when Papa and Mama died, a German lady took me in and began to teach me. Well, I grew up, then I became a governess. But where I’m from and who I am — I don’t know ... Who were my parents, were they married ... I don’t know. [Takes a gherkin out of her pocket and eats it.] I don’t know anything.
[A pause.]
I so want to talk but there’s no one ... I haven’t got anybody.
YEPIKHODOV [playing the guitar and singing]: ‘What to me are the world and its roar, what to me are friend and foe...’ How pleasant is it to play the mandolin!
DUNYASHA: That’s a guitar, not a mandolin. [Looks in a pocket mirror and powders her face.]
YEPIKHODOV: For a madman in love it’s a mandolin ... [Sings] ‘If my heart is warmed by a love that is shared...’
[YASHA joins in.]
CHARLOTTA: These people sing horribly ... pfui! Like jackals.
DUNYASHA [to Yasha]: You are lucky to go abroad.
YASHA: Yes, of course. I have to agree with you. [Yawns, then lights a cigar.]
YEPIKHODOV: Naturally. Abroad everything has been fully developed for a long time.
YASHA: Absolutely.
YEPIKHODOV: I am a man of culture, I read a number of remarkable books, but I just can’t understand the direction in which I actually want to go, whether I should live or shoot myself, honestly, but all the same I always carry a revolver on me. Here it is ... [Shows the revolver.]
CHARLOTTA: I’ve finished. Now I’m off. [Shoulders her gun.] Yepikhodov, you’re a very clever man and a very frightening one; women must love you madly. Brrr! [Begins to walk off.] These clever ones are all so stupid, there’s no one for me to talk to ... I’m all alone, alone, I have nobody and ... who I am, what I am here for, no one knows ... [Walks off slowly.]
YEPIKHODOV: Speaking honestly, without touching on other subjects, I must state regarding myself, among other things, that fate shows me no pity, like a tempest with a small boat. If, for the sake of argument, I am wrong, then why this morning do I wake up, for example, and on my chest is a spider of horrendous size ... As big as that ... [Demonstrates with both hands.] And again I take some kvass to have a drink, and I look and find in it something exceptionally unpleasing, something like a cockroach.
[A pause.]
Have you read Buckle?2
[A pause.]
Avdotya Fyodorovna, might I trouble you for a couple of words.
DUNYASHA: Speak.
YEPIKHODOV: I would prefer alone with you ... [Sighs.]
DUNYASHA [embarrassed]: Very well ... only first fetch me my little cape ... It’s by the cupboard ... it’s a bit damp here ...
YEPIKHODOV: Very well ... I’ll bring it ... Now I know what I have to do with my revolver ...
[Takes the guitar and goes out playing.]
YASHA: The Walking Accident! Between you and me, a silly fellow. [Yawns.]
DUNYASHA: I hope to God he doesn’t shoot himself.
[A pause.]
I’ve become nervous, I worry all the time. They took me into service when I was still a little girl, I’m now out of the habit of the simple life, and I’ve got white, white hands, like a young lady’s. I’ve become delicate, so refined, so ladylike, everything frightens me ... It’s terrible. And if you deceive me, Yasha, I don’t know what my nerves will do.
YASHA [kissing her]: My little pickle! Of course, a girl mustn’t forget herself, and there’s nothing I dislike more than bad behaviour in a girl.
DUNYASHA: I love you passionately, you’ve got education, you can discuss anything.
[A pause.]
YASHA [yawns]: Ye-es ... What I think is this: if a girl loves someone, that means she has no morals.
[A pause.]
It’s nice to smoke a cigar in the open air ... [Listens.] Someone’s coming ... It’s the family ...
[DUNYASHA impulsively embraces him.]
Go home as if you’d gone to the river to have a swim, go by that path, otherwise they’ll meet you and think we’ve been going out together. I can’t bear that idea.
DUNYASHA [coughing quietly]: I’ve got a headache from the cigar. [Goes out.]
[YASHA stays and sits by the shrine. Enter LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA, GAYEV and LOPAKHIN.]
LOPAKHIN: You have to make a final decision — time won’t wait. The question’s really straightforward. Do you agree to sell the land for dachas or not? Answer in one word: yes or no. Just the one word!
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: Who’s been smoking disgusting cigars here ... [Sits down.]
GAYEV: Now they’ve built the railway it’s become so easy. [Sits down.] We went into town and had lunch ... yellow into the middle pocket! I’d have liked to go to the house first and play one game ...
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: You’ll have time.
LOPAKHIN: Just the one word! [Imploringly
] Give me an answer!
GAYEV [yawning]: To what?
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA [looking in herpurse]: Yesterday there was a lot of money and today there’s very little. To economize my poor Varya feeds all of us on milk soup, she gives the old men in the kitchen nothing but dried peas, but I’m somehow spending like a madwoman . . . [She has dropped her purse and scattered gold coins about.] Well, there they go ... [She is cross.]
YASHA: Let me, I’ll pick them up right away. [Picks up the coins.]
LYUSOV ANDREYEVNA: Thank you, Yasha. And why did I go and have lunch ... Your wretched restaurant with a band, where the tablecloths smell of soap ... Why drink so much, Lyonya? Why eat so much? Why talk so much? Today in the restaurant again you talked a lot, and always off the mark. About the Seventies, the Decadents. And who to? Talking to waiters about the Decadents!
LOPAKHIN: Yes.
GAYEV [waving his hand]: I’m incorrigible, that’s clear ... [Crossly to Yasha] Why are you constantly getting under our feet ...
YASHA [laughs]: I can’t hear your voice without laughing.
GAYEV [to his sister]: It has to be either me or him ...
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: Go away, Yasha, Off...
YASHA [giving back Lyubov Andreyevna her purse]: I’ll go right away. [Can hardly hold back his laughter.] This minute ... [Exit.]
LOPAKHIN: That rich Deriganov intends to buy your estate. They say he’ll come to the auction personally.
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: And where did you hear that?
LOPAKHIN: That’s what they’re saying in town.
GAYEV: Our aunt in Yaroslavl has promised to send something, but when and how much we don’t know ...
LOPAKHIN: How much will she send? A hundred thousand? Two hundred thousand?
LYUSOV ANDREYEVNA: Well ... Ten or fifteen thousand, at least that will be something.
LOPAKHIN: I’m sorry, I’ve never yet come across such frivolous people as you, my friends, so unbusinesslike, so peculiar. You’re told in plain Russian, your estate is being sold, and you just don’t seem to understand.
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: What are we to do? Tell us, what?
LOPAKHIN: I tell you every day. Every day I say one and the same thing. You’ve got to lease out both the cherry orchard and the land for dacha plots, you’ve got to do that now, as quickly as possible — the auction is upon us! Understand that! Once you’ve finally made the decision to have dachas, you’ll get as much money as you want, and then you’re rescued.
LYUSOV ANDREYEVNA: Dachas and summer people — I’m sorry but it’s so vulgar.
GAYEV: I quite agree with you.
LOPAKHIN: I’m going to break down in sobs or scream or pass out. I’ve had enough! You’ve worn me out! [To Gayev] You’re an old woman!
GAYEV: What?
LOPAKHIN: Old woman! [On the point of leaving.]
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA [frightened]: No, don’t go away, stay, my dear. I beg you. Perhaps we’ll think of something!
LOPAKHIN: What is there here to think about!
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: Don’t go, I beg you. I must say it’s more cheerful when you’re here ...
[A pause.]
I’m waiting for something to happen all the time, as if the house were going to fall down on top of us.
GAYEV [deep in thought]: Double it into the corner pocket ... Cross shot into the centre ...
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: We’ve sinned very greatly ...
LOPAKHIN: What are these sins of yours? ...
GAYEV [putting a sweet in his mouth]: They say I’ve eaten up my entire substance in sweets ... [Laughs.]
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: Oh, my sins ... I always threw money around like a madwoman, and I married a man who only ran up debts. My husband died of champagne — he was a terrible drinker — and I was unlucky enough to fall in love with another man, I went off to live with him, and just at that time — it was the first punishment, a blow to the head — right here in the river ... my little boy drowned, and I went abroad, went away for good, in order never to come back and see this river ... I closed my eyes, I fled, out of my mind, and he followed me — pitilessly, crudely. I bought a villa near Mentone because he fell ill there and for three years I had no rest day or night; the invalid wore me out, my soul dried up. And last year, when the villa was sold to pay my debts, I went off to Paris and there he robbed me, he abandoned me, lived with another woman, I tried to poison myself... So stupid, so shaming ... And suddenly I felt a longing for Russia, for my country, for my little girl ... [Wipes away her tears.] Lord, Lord, be merciful, forgive me my sins! Do not punish me any more! [Takes a telegram from herpocket.] I got this today from Paris ... He asks forgiveness, he begs me to come back ... [Tears up the telegram.] I think there’s music somewhere. [Listens.]
GAYEV: That’s our famous Jewish band. Do you remember, four violins, a flute and a double bass?
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: Are they still around? We should get them over somehow, give a dance.
LOPAKHIN [listening]: I can’t hear anything ... [Sings quietly] ‘If you pay them well the Germans’ll make a Frenchman of a Russian.’ [Laughs.] I saw a good play yesterday at the theatre, very funny.
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: And very likely there was nothing funny. You shouldn’t go to plays but look more often at yourselves. Your lives are all so grey, you say such a lot of unnecessary things.
LOPAKHIN: That’s true. One must admit our life is idiotic ...
[A pause.]
My dad was a muzhik, an idiot, he didn’t understand anything, he didn’t teach me, he only hit me when he was drunk, and always with a stick. In fact I’m just as much of a dolt and an idiot. I learnt nothing, my handwriting is awful, like a pig’s, I’m ashamed when other people see it.
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: You ought to get married, my friend.
LOPAKHIN: Yes ... That’s true.
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: To your Varya. She’s a good girl.
LOPAKHIN: Yes.
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: She came to me from a simple family, she works all day, but the important thing is she loves you. And you’ve liked her for a long time.
LOPAKHIN: Why not? I’m not against it ... She’s a good girl.
[A pause.]
GAYEV: They’re offering me a job at the bank. Six thousand a year ... Have you heard?
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: You! Sit tight where you are ...
[Enter FIRS; he has brought an overcoat.]
FIRS [to Gayev]: Please put it on, sir, it’s getting damp.
GAYEV [putting on the coat]: You get on my nerves, old man.
FIRS: There’s no need to ... You went off in the morning without telling me. [Looks him over.]
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: How old you’ve become, Firs!
FIRS: What is it you want?
LOPAKHIN: She says you’ve become very old!
FIRS: I’ve lived a long time. They were looking for a wife for me when your papa wasn’t yet on this earth ... [Laughs.] And when Emancipation3 came, I was already first valet. I didn’t accept full freedom then, I stayed with the family ...
[A pause.]
And I remember everyone was glad, but why they were glad they didn’t know themselves.
LOPAKHIN: It used to be a very good life in the old days. At least they used to flog people.
FIRS [who hasn’t heard]: Of course. The muzhiks had masters, the masters had muzhiks, but now everything’s all broken up, you can’t make sense of anything.
GAYEV: Be quiet, Firs. Tomorrow I have to go to town. They’ve promised to introduce me to a general who may be able to give me some money on a promissory note.
LOPAKHIN: You won’t get it. So don’t worry, you won’t have to pay interest.
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: He’s fantasizing. There’s no general.
[Enter TROFIMOV, ANYA and VARYA.]
GAYEV: And here come our girls.
ANYA: There’s Mama.
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA [affectionately]: Come, come ... My darlings ... [Embracing Anya and Varya.] If you both knew how I love you.
Sit down next to me, there.
[Everyone sits down.]
LOPAKHIN: Our perpetual student is hanging round the young ladies.
TROFIMOV: None of your business.
LOPAKHIN: He’ll soon be fifty but he’s still a student.
TROFIMOV: Do stop your silly jokes.
LOPAKHIN: Why are you getting angry, you funny man?
TROFIMOV: Don’t you get at me.
LOPAKHIN [laughing]: May I ask you what you think of me?
TROFIMOV: This is what I think of you, Yermolay Alekseich: you’re a rich man, you’ll soon be a millionaire. Just as the cycle of nature requires a predator, gobbling up everything in its path, in the same way you are necessary.
[Everyone laughs.]
VARYA: Petya, better tell us about the planets.
LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA: No, let’s continue yesterday’s conversation.
TROFIMOV: What was that about?
GAYEV: Man’s pride.
TROFIMOV: We talked a long time yesterday but didn’t come to any conclusion. Man’s pride, as you understand it, has something mystical. Perhaps in your own way you’re right, but reasoning straightforwardly, without fancy — what ground for pride is there, is there any sense in it, if man is poorly constructed physiologically, if in the huge majority of cases he is coarse, unintelligent, deeply unhappy? You have to stop being pleased with yourself. You must just work.
The Plays of Anton Chekhov Page 33
