The Cherry Orchard / Вишневый сад. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Антон Чехов

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      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.

      Varya. [Crying] It’s Peter Trofimov.

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

      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.