Lubov. 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.

Lopakhin. The only remarkable 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.

Gaev. This orchard is mentioned in the “Encyclopaedic Dictionary.”

Lopakhin. [Looks at his watch] If we can’t think of anything and don’t make up our minds to anything, then on August 22, 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.

Fiers. In the old days, forty or fifty years back, they dried the cherries, soaked them and pickled them, and made jam of them, and it used to happen that…

Gaev. Be quiet, Fiers.

Fiers. And then we’d send the dried cherries off in carts to Moscow and Kharkov. And money! And the dried cherries were soft, juicy, sweet, and nicely scented… They knew the way…

Lubov. What was the way?

Fiers. They’ve forgotten. Nobody remembers.

Pischin. [To Lubov Andreyevna] What about Paris? Eh? Did you eat frogs?

Lubov. I ate crocodiles.

Pischin. To think of that, now.

Lopakhin. 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, and then your cherry orchard will be happy, rich, splendid…

Gaev. [Angry] What rot!

Enter Varya and Yasha.

Varya. There are two telegrams for you, little mother. [Picks out a key and noisily unlocks an antique cupboard] Here they are.

Lubov. They’re from Paris… [Tears them up without reading them] I’ve done with Paris.

Gaev. And do you know, Luba, 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 its jubilee. It hasn’t a soul of its own, but still, say what you will, it’s a fine bookcase.

Pischin. [Astonished] A hundred years… Think of that!

Gaev. 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 [Weeping] during which you have upheld 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.

Pause.

Lopakhin. Yes…

Lubov. You’re just the same as ever, Leon.

Gaev. [A little confused] Off the white on the right, into the corner pocket. Red ball goes into the middle pocket!

Lopakhin. [Looks at his watch] It’s time I went.

Yasha. [Giving Lubov Andreyevna her medicine] Will you take your pills now?

Pischin. 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] There!

Lubov. [Frightened] You’re off your head!

Pischin. I’ve taken all the pills.

Lopakhin. Gormandizer!

All laugh.

Fiers. They were here in Easter week and ate half a pailful of cucumbers… [Mumbles.]

Lubov. What’s he driving at?

Varya. He’s been mumbling away for three years. We’re used to that.

Yasha. Senile decay.

Charlotta Ivanovna crosses the stage, dressed in white: she is very thin and tightly laced; has a lorgnette at her waist.

Lopakhin. Excuse me, Charlotta Ivanovna, I haven’t said “How do you do” to you yet. [Tries to kiss her hand.]

Charlotta. [Takes her hand away] If you let people kiss your hand, then they’ll want your elbow, then your shoulder, and then…

Lopakhin. My luck’s out today! [All laugh] Show us a trick, Charlotta Ivanovna!

Lubov Andreyevna. Charlotta, do us a trick.

Charlotta. It’s not necessary. I want to go to bed. [Exit.]

Lopakhin. We shall see each other in three weeks. [Kisses Lubov Andreyevna’s hand] Now, good-bye. It’s time to go. [To Gaev] See you again. [Kisses Pischin] Au revoir. [Gives his hand to Varya, then to Fiers and to Yasha] I don’t want to go away. [To Lubov Andreyevna]. If you think about the villas and make up your mind, then just let me know, and I’ll raise a loan of 50,000 roubles at once. Think about it seriously.

Varya. [Angrily] Do go, now!

Lopakhin. I’m going, I’m going… [Exit.]

Gaev. Snob. Still, I beg pardon… Varya’s going to marry him, he’s Varya’s young man.

Varya. Don’t talk too much, uncle.

Lubov. Why not, Varya? I should be very glad. He’s a good man.

Pischin. To speak the honest truth… he’s a worthy man… And my Dashenka… also says that… she says lots of things. [Snores, but wakes up again at once] But still, dear madam, if you could lend me… 240 roubles… to pay the interest on my mortgage tomorrow…

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 today or tomorrow. 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 tomorrow.

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 tomorrow 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 tomorrow, 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.