Chekhov. The Cherry Orchard. Act II.

Open country. An old ruined chapel, long since abandoned, beside it a well, some large stones which evidently once were gravestones, and an old bench. The road leading to Gayev’s estate is visible. On one side tall poplars mark the boundary of the cherry orchard. In the distance a row of telegraph poles and very far away on the horizon the outlines of a large town are dimly seen, outlines which are only visible on very fine clear days. It will soon be sunset. Charlotte, Yasha and Dunyasha are sitting on the bench. Epihodov is standing nearby playing something melancholy on his guitar. Everyone is sitting thoughtfully. Charlotte is wearing an old peaked cap; she has taken a rifle from her shoulder and is adjusting a buckle on the strap.

CHARLOTTE (Pensively.) I don’t have a proper passport, I don’t know how old I am, although it always seems to me that I’m young. When I was a young girl my parents used to travel to fairs and put on shows, very good ones. I used do the salto mortale jump and various tricks. When Papa and Mama died a German lady took me in and started to teach me. It was fine. I grew up and became a governess. But where I’m from or who I am I don’t know... Who my parents were, perhaps they weren’t even married... I don’t know. (Takes a cucumber from her pocket and starts to eat it.) I don’t know anything. (Pause.) I long to talk to someone, but there is no one... I’m not close to anyone.

EPIHODOV (Plays on a guitar and sings.) “What do I care for the noisy world, What to me are friends or foes?”... How enjoyable it is playing the mandolin.

DUNYASHA It’s a guitar, not a mandolin. (She looks in her mirror and powders herself.)

EPIHODOV For one who’s crazy, who’s madly in love, it’s a mandolin... (He sings.) “Oh would that my heart was warmed, by a heart that glowed for me...”

YASHA Yes, of course. I cannot disagree with you. (He yawns, then lights a cigar.)

EPIHODOV It goes without saying. Abroad everything has long since reached its full state of development.

EPIHODOV I’m an intelligent man, I read several remarkable books, but I cannot in any way understand in what direction personally I should move, whether to live or shoot myself, personally speaking, so none the less I always carry a revolver with me. Here it is... (He shows the revolver.)

CHARLOTTE Finished. I’m going now. (Puts the rifle over her shoulder.) Epihodov, you are a very clever and a very terrible man; women must love you madly. Brrr! (She walks away.) These clever people are nevertheless stupid, I have no one I can talk to... I’m always alone, always alone, I have nobody... And who I am, why I am, is unknown... (She leaves unhurriedly.)

EPIHODOV Personally speaking, not touching on other matters, I must express about myself, meanwhile, that fate treats me without mercy, like a storm with a little ship. If, supposing, I am mistaken, then why this morning when I woke up, to take an example, why did I look and see a spider of enormous size sitting on my chest... As big as this (He indicates with both hands). And then if I should pick up some kvass, to have a drink, I look in the glass and there is something disgusting in the highest degree there, like a cockroach. (Pause.) Have you read Buckle[i]? (Pause.) Dunyasha, Avdotya Fyodorovna, could I trouble you for just a couple of words?

DUNYASHA (Embarassed.) Very well... But first go and bring me my shawl... It’s near the cupboard... Here it’s a bit damp...

EPIHODOV Yes ma’am... I’ll bring it ma’am... Now I know what to do with my revolver... (Picks up his guitar and goes off strumming it.)

DUYASHA God forbid he should shoot himself. (Pause.) I’ve become a worry guts, I’m always on edge. From when I was a little girl I’ve always been with the gentry, I’ve forgotten how to live simply, and look how my hands are white as white, like a lady’s. I’ve become tender and dreadfully delicate, I’ve fine tastes, I’m scared of everything... It’s terrible like that. And if you deceive me Yasha I don’t know what will happen to my nerves.

YASHA (Kisses her.) Peach! Of course, every girl must look after herself, and I especially disapprove if a girl behaves badly.

DUNYASHA I love you passionately, you’re so educated you can talk about anything. (Pause.)

YASHA (Yawns.) Yes, ma’am... To my mind, this is how it is: if a girl loves somebody she must, obviously, be immoral. (Pause.) How pleasant to smoke a cigar in the open air... (He listens.) Somebody’s coming... It’s the master and mistress...

YASHA You go towards home, as if you were going to the river to bathe, go that way, otherwise they’ll meet you and think that I’ve come here for a rendezvous. I couldn’t bear that.

DUNYASHA (Coughs quietly.) My head is aching from the cigar smoke... (She leaves.)

Yasha remains alone. He sits down near the chapel. Lyubov Andreyevna, Gayev and Lopakhin enter.

LOPAKHIN You must make a definite decision. Time will not wait. After all it’s a very simple question. Are you willing to sell the land for dachas or not? Reply with just one word: yes or no? Just one word.

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA Who is it here who’s smoking a disgusting cigar?... (She sits down.)

GAYEV They built a railway here and it’s been useful. (He sits down.) We went to town for lunch... Red in the middle pocket... I’d like to go home first, play one game...

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA (She looks inside her purse.) Yesterday I had lots of money, but today hardly any. My poor Varya for economy feeds everyone on porridge to save money, in the kitchen the old folk are given dried peas, and I spend money without thinking... (She drops the purse and coins are scattered around.) Now it’s all scattered... (She is annoyed.)

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA If you’d be so kind, Yasha. And why did I go off to have lunch... A wretched little restaurant of yours, Gayev, with music and tablecloths smelling of the laundry... Why do you drink so much, Leonid? Why eat so much? Why talk so much? Today in the restaurant once again you gabbled on and none of it to the point. About the seventies, and the Decadents. And who were you talking to? To talk to the waiters about the Decadents!

GAYEV (Makes a gesture of helplessness.) I’m beyond cure, that’s evident... (Irritatedly, to Yasha.) What is this? Why are you perpetually hanging round in front of me?

YASHA (Gives Lyubov Andreyevna her purse.) I’m off now. (He can scarcely prevent himself from laughing. In French.) Immediatement. (He leaves.)

LOPAKHIN The magnate Deriganov is planning to buy your estate. They say that he’s coming personally to the sale.

GAYEV The Yaroslav aunt promised to send something, but when and how much she’ll send we don’t know...

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA Well... Ten thousand, fifteen, and we’d be grateful even for that.

LOPAKHIN Forgive me, such heedless persons as you are, so impractical and other-worldly I have never met. I tell you in plain language that your estate is going to be sold and you seem not to understand.

LOPAKHIN I tell you every day. Every day I say one and the same thing... The cherry orchard and the estate must be divided up into dacha size plots for rent. And it must be done now, as soon as possible, the auction is under your very nose! Just understand that. As soon as you decide positively that there are to be dachas then they will lend you money, as much as you wish, and you will be saved.

LOPAKHIN You make me want to scream, or cry, or fall into a faint! I can’t bear it! You’ve worn me out! (To Gayev.) You’re an old woman!

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA (Worried.) No, don’t go, stay here, dear fellow. I do beg you. We might think of something!

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA But please don’t go away. It’s somehow more cheerful with you here... (Pause.) I’m all the time expecting something to happen, as if the house were going to fall down on top of us.

GAYEV (Lost in thought.) A cannon off the corner... The spot in the centre pocket...

GAYEV (Puts a sweet in his mouth.) They say I have used up all my inheritance eating boiled sweets... (He laughs.)

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA Oh, my sins... I always squandered money recklessly, like a mad thing, I married a man who could only run up debts. My husband died of champagne — he drank appallingly — and unfortunately I fell in love with another man, went to live with him, and it was just at that time, — this was my first punishment — a blow straight to the heart — here, in this river... my little boy drowned, and I went away abroad, I left entirely, never to return, never to see this river again... I shut my eyes, I ran away, out of my mind, and he followed me... mercilessly, brutishly. I bought a villa near Menton, because he had fallen ill there, and for three years I had no rest either day or night; the invalid tormented me, my soul dried up. Then last year, when the villa was sold to pay the debts, I moved to Paris, and there he robbed me, threw me over, went off with another woman, and I tried to poison myself... So stupid, so shameful... Then suddenly I felt drawn back to Russia, to the country of my birth, to my dear little daughter... (She wipes her eyes.) Dear God, dear God, be merciful, forgive me my sins. Do not punish me any more. (She takes a telegram from her pocket.) This came yesterday from Paris... He asks for forgiveness. He begs me to return... (She tears up the telegram.) I think I hear music. (She listens.)

GAYEV That’s our well known Jewish orchestra. Don’t you remember, four violins, a flute and a double base.

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA Does it still exist? We should invite it somehow or other, arrange an evening.

LOPAKHIN (He listens.) I can’t hear it... (He sings quietly.) “And for money a German, will make a Frenchman Russian.” I saw a wonderful play in the theatre yesterday, it was so funny.

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA Probably there was nothing at all funny. You shouldn’t be going to plays anyway, you should take a look at your own life more often. What grey lives you lead. What a lot of unnecessary talk you spout.

LOPAKHIN That’s true. We must speak out directly, our lives are pretty foolish... (Pause.) My father was a peasant, an idiot, he understood nothing, taught me nothing, just beat me when he was drunk, and always with a stick. In reality I am just such a blockhead and an idiot. I learnt nothing, my handwriting is a disgrace, when I write something I feel ashamed in front of people, like a pig.

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA She’s not complicated, she works the whole day, and most important, she loves you. And you’ve liked her for a long time anyway.

GAYEV They’ve offered me a post in the bank. Six thousand a year... Did you hear about it?

FEERS Say what you like... You went out this morning without telling me. (He inspects him thoroughly.)

FEERS I’ve lived a long time. They tried to marry me, it was before your father was born... (He laughs.) Then liberation of the serfs came along, I was already the senior manservant. I did not agree with the liberation, so I remained with the masters... (Pause.) I remember, everyone was so happy, but why they were happy they didn’t know.

FEERS (Not having heard him.) Of course. Everyone, the masters, the peasants, they all knew their place. Now all is at sixes and sevens.

GAYEV Keep quiet Feers. Tomorrow I must go into town. They’ve promised to introduce me to a general who might lend us something on a promissory note.

LOPAKHIN Nothing will come of it. And you won’t pay off the interest, you can rest assured.

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA (Tenderly.) Come here, come here... My darlings... (She embraces Anya and Varya.) If only you both knew how much I love you. Sit beside me, just here, that’s right. (They all sit.)

TROFIMOV This is my opinion of you Ermolay Alekseyich: you’re a rich man, you’ll soon be a millionaire. And just as in the case of natural metabolism, wild beasts are necessary which eat everything that comes their way, so you are necessary as well. (All laugh.)

TROFIMOV We talked for a long time yesterday but reached no conclusion. In the proud man, in your sense of the term, there is something mystical. Perhaps you are correct in your interpretation, but if we consider the matter simply, without distractions, what is the sense of being proud if we, as imperfectly made humans, are for the most part gross, stupid and deeply unhappy. We need to stop admiring ourselves. We need to work, it’s as simple as that.

TROFIMOV Who knows. And what does it mean — to die? Perhaps men have a hundred senses, and with death only those five that are known to us perish, but the remaining ninety five stay alive.

TROFIMOV Humanity is marching forward, perfecting its strengths. Everything which is at present unattainable for it at present will in the future become reachable, understandable, only we have to work, to strive with all our power to assist those who are seeking the truth. With us, in Russia, meanwhile, very few people are working to that end. The vast majority of the intelligentsia that I know are not seeking for anything, they do nothing and are completely incapable of work. They call themselves intelligentsia but they speak rudely to their servants, they treat the peasants like cattle, they study superficially, read nothing serious, do absolutely nothing, only talk about science and have very little understanding of art. They are all so serious, they all have stern faces, they all talk about solemn things, they philosophise, and meanwhile in front of their noses the workers eat appallingly, sleep without pillows, thirty or forty to a room, and everywhere there are bugs, filth dampness, moral uncleanliness... And it’s clear that all our fine talk is for one purpose only, to distract ourselves and others from the reality. Tell me, where are the nurseries about which we talk so fulsomely and frequently, where are the libraries? They only exist in novels, in reality there aren’t any of them. There is only dirt, beastliness and Asiatic conditions... I dread and I dislike those awfully serious faces, I dread those serious conversations. It would be better if we remained silent!

LOPAKHIN You know, I get up at five in the morning, I work from morning till night, I’m always handling my own and other people’s money, and I see what people are like. You only need to start doing something to find out how few decent and honest ones there are. Sometimes when I can’t sleep I think “Lord, you have given us vast forests, boundless pastures, limitless horizons, and living here we should really be like giants...

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA You want to have giants... But they’re only good in fairy tales, and even there they terrify you.

GAYEV (Not too loud, yet as if making a speech .) Wonderful Nature, you shine forth with eternal radiance, beautiful and impartial, you to whom we give the name of mother, you contain within yourself both life and death, you create and you destroy...

They all sit down wrapped in thought. It is quiet. The only sound is that of Feers mumbling. Suddenly a report is heard in the distance, as if from the sky, the sound of a cable breaking, dying away and mournful.

LOPAKHIN I don’t know. Perhaps a bucket or something has broken away in a mine, somewhere far off. But very far away.

FEERS Before the disaster it was the same. The owl screeched and the samovar hummed all the time.

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA You know, friends, we ought to be going, it’s already evening. (To Anya.) There are tears in your eyes... What’s the matter darling? (Embraces her.)

A tramp appears dressed in a battered white peaked cap and an overcoat. He is slightly drunk.

TRAMP Pardon me, could you tell me, is it possible to get from here directly to the station?

TRAMP I am very grateful to you. (He coughs.) Splendid weather... (He speaks as if addressing an audience.) Brother of mine, my suffering brother... Come thou to the Volga, you whose groans... (To Varya.) Madamoiselle, be so good as to give a starving Russian thirty kopeks...

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA (In a panic.) Take this... Here you are... (Looks in her purse.) There’s no silver... Never mind, have this gold piece...

VARYA (Horrified,) I’m going... I’m going... Ah, dear Mama, there’s no food to give the staff at home, and you gave him gold.

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA What is to be done with me? I’m an idiot. At home I’ll hand it all over to you. Ermolay Alexeyich, give me another loan would you.

LYUBOV ANDREYEVNA Come on folks, it’s time. And Varya, we’ve made all the arrangements for you just now, I congratulate you.

LOPAKHIN I remind you good folks, the cherry orchard will be sold on the twenty-second of August... Think about it!... Think about it!...

TROFIMOV Varya is afraid that we might suddenly fall in love, and for the whole day she won’t leave us alone. With her narrow mind she is incapable of understanding that we are superior to love. To avoid all those petty and illusory things which prevent us from being free and happy, that is the aim and the meaning of our lives. Forward! We are marching irresistibly to that bright star which flames in the distance. Forward! Do not falter, friends!

ANYA (Clapping her hands.) How splendidly you speak! (Pause.) It’s wonderful here today.

ANYA What have you done to me Petya, why do I no longer love the cherry orchard as I used to? I loved it so tenderly that it seemed to me that there was no place on the earth better than our orchard.

TROFIMOV All Russia is our orchard. The land is vast and beautiful, there are many marvellous places in it. (Pause.) Think, Anya, your grandfather, great grandfather and all your ancestors were serf masters, they owned living souls, and do not human beings look out at you from every cherry in the orchard, from every leaf, from every branch, do you not hear their voices?... To own living souls, it has corrupted you all, those living in the past and now, so that your mother, you yourself, your uncle do not recognise that you are living in debt, at somebody else’s expense, at the expense of those people who you would not even allow over your doorstep... We have fallen behind at least two hundred years, we have nothing, no intelligible relationship with our past, we only philosophize, complain about boredom or drink vodka. It’s so obvious that to begin to live in the present we must first redeem the past, and we can redeem it only by suffering, only by exceptional and unremitting labour. Remember that, Anya.

ANYA The house where we live has not been ours for a long time, and I shall leave it, I give you my word.

TROFIMOV If you have a bunch of housekeeping keys, throw them into the well and just walk away. Be free, like the wind.

TROFIMOV Believe me Anya, believe me. I’m not yet thirty, I’m still young, still a student, but I have already suffered so much! When it’s winter I am hungry, ill, anxious, poor as a beggar, and — where has fate not driven me, what places have I been! But despite that my soul has always been full, every instant of the day or night, full of inexpressible expectation. I sense the future happiness, Anya, I already see it...

Epihodov is heard playing the same melancholy tune on his guitar. The moon is rising. Somewhere near the poplars Varya is looking for Anya and is heard calling “Anya! Where are you?”

TROFIMOV Yes. The moon is rising. There it is, happiness, I see it, it is coming closer and closer, I can already hear its footsteps. And if we do not see it, do not recognise it, what does it matter. Others after us will see it.

[i] Henry Thomas Buckle. 1821 – 1862. English liberal historian.

[ii] He is misquoting Hamlet’s words to Ophelia, and getting the name wrong.