Act One
The action takes place on Mme RANEVSKAYAâs estate, and the scene is a room still referred to as the nursery. One of the doors leads to ANYAâs room. It is daybreak, the sun is just coming up, a fine May morning with the cherry trees in blossom, but a little chilly yet, and all the windows are closed. DUNYASHA enters holding a candle, and LOPAKHIN with a book.
LOPAKHIN. The trainâs arrived, thank goodness. What time is it?
DUNYASHA. Nearly two. (Extinguishes the candle.) Itâs getting light.
LOPAKHIN. So what does that make the train? A couple of hours late at least. (Yawns and stretches.) Well, Iâm a fine one to talk, Iâve made a proper ass of myself. Rode over here specifically to meet them at the station, and just dozed off ⊠Fell asleep in the chair. Damn nuisance ⊠you mightâve wakened me.
DUNYASHA. I thought youâd already left. (Pauses to listen.) Thatâll be them now.
LOPAKHIN (also listens). No, theyâll have to get their luggage out and so on.
A pause.
Madame Ranevskayaâs lived abroad five years now, Iâve no idea what sheâll be like ⊠Sheâs a fine woman. Straightforward, easy-going. I remember when I was a lad of about fifteen, my late father â he had a little shop in the village at that time â well, he hit me with his fist so hard my nose started bleeding. Weâd come up here to the yard for something or other, and heâd been drinking. Anyway, Madame Ranevskaya â I remember even now â she was just a slip of a girl, she took me over to the wash-basin in this very room, in the nursery. âNow donât cry, little peasant, âshe said, âItâll heal up in time for your wedding.â
A pause.
âLittle peasantâ ⊠Well, true enough, my father was a peasant, but here I am now in a white waistcoat, and tan leather shoes. A silk purse out of a sowâs ear, you might say. Plain fact is Iâm rich, Iâve pots of money, but when you get right down to it, Iâm a peasant through and through. (Leafs through his book.) Yes, I was reading this book, didnât understand a word of it. Fell asleep reading.
A pause.
DUNYASHA. Well, the dogs certainly got no sleep, they can sense their masters are coming.
LOPAKHIN. Dunyasha, whatâs up? You look as if you âŠ
DUNYASHA. My hands are trembling. I think Iâm going to faint.
LOPAKHIN. Youâre too sensitive, Dunyasha, thatâs your trouble. And you dress like a young lady. The way you do your hair, too. You shouldnât, you know â youâve got to remember your place.
YEPIKHODOV enters with a bunch of flowers. He is wearing a jacket, and highly-polished boots which squeak all the time. On entering, he drops the flowers.
YEPIKHODOV (picking up the flowers). The gardener sent these over, he says to put them in the dining-room. (Hands them to DUNYASHA.)
LOPAKHIN. And you can bring me some kvas.
DUNYASHA. Yes, sir. (Exits.)
YEPIKHODOV. Thereâs a frost this morning, three degrees below, and the cherry trees are in flower. I canât approve of this climate of ours. (Sighs.) No, not at all. Our climate isnât exactly conducive, Iâm afraid. And if I might append, Mr Lopakhin, I bought these shoes two days ago, and I can assure you, sir, that they squeak beyond the bounds of possibility. What should I oil them with?
LOPAKHIN. Oh, go away. You get on my nerves.
YEPIKHODOV. You know, some disaster happens to me every day. But Iâm not complaining. Iâm used to it, I can even smile.
DUNYASHA enters, gives LOPAKHIN his kvas.
All right, Iâm going. (Bumps into a chair, which topples over.) You see? (With a note of triumph.) There you have it, if youâll excuse the expression ⊠I mean, thatâs the sort of circumstance ⊠Itâs quite extraordinary, thereâs no other word for it. (Exits.)
DUNYASHA. Actually, Mr Lopakhin ⊠to tell you the truth, Yepikhodovâs proposed to me.
LOPAKHIN. Oh?
DUNYASHA. I just donât know ⊠I mean, heâs harmless enough, but sometimes when he gets going, you just canât understand a word he says. It sounds fine, quite touching really, but it doesnât make any sense. I think I like him. And he loves me to distraction. Heâs a terribly unlucky man, some mishap or other every day. They all pull his leg about it: the walking disaster, they call him.
LOPAKHIN (strains to listen). Thatâs them coming now, I think.
DUNYASHA. Itâs them! Oh, whatâs the matter with me? Iâve gone cold all over âŠ
LOPAKHIN. Yes, itâs them. Weâll go and meet them. I wonder if sheâll recognise me? We havenât seen each other for five years.
DUNYASHA (agitated). Oh God, Iâm going to faint, I know I am!
Two carriages are heard drawing up outside. LOPAKHIN and DUNYASHA hurriedly exit, leaving the stage empty. There is noisy activity in the outer room, and old FIRS, who has been to the station to greet Mme RANEVSKAYA, hobbles across the stage, leaning on a walking-stick. He is dressed in old-fashioned livery, and wearing a top hat, He is muttering to himself, but it is impossible to distinguish what he is saying. The noises offstage grow louder. A voice is heard: âLetâs go in this way ⊠â. Mme RANEVSKAYA, ANYA, and CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA, leading a little dog on a leash, all enter in outdoor clothes. VARYA enters wearing an overcoat and headscarf, and GAEV, SIMEONOV-PISHCHIK, LOPAKHIN and DUNYASHA, carrying a parcel and an umbrella, and servants with luggage, all cross the stage.
ANYA. Weâll go through this way. You remember, Mama, what this room used to be?
RANEVSKAYA (joyfully, deeply moved). The nursery!
VARYA. Itâs so cold, my hands are quite numb. (To RANEVSKAYA.) Your rooms are just the way you left them, Mama, the violet and the white.
RANEVSKAYA. Ah yes, the nursery, my darling wonderful nursery! This is where I used to sleep, when I was little. (Begins to weep.) And now Iâm like a little girl again ⊠(Kisses her brother and VARYA, then her brother again.) And Varya hasnât changed a bit, she still looks like a nun. And I even recognise Dunyasha ⊠(Kisses DUNYASHA.)
GAEV. The train was two hours late. What do you make of that, eh? Some organisation.
CHARLOTTA (to PISHCHIK). My little dog even eats nuts.
PISHCHIK (astonished). Fancy that!
All exit, save ANYA and DUNYASHA.
DUNYASHA. The time weâve been waiting ⊠(Helps ANYA off with her coat and hat.)
ANYA. I havenât slept the past four nights ⊠now Iâm freezing.
DUNYASHA. You left before Easter, and there was snow and frost then, and now look at it. Oh, dearest Anya! (Laughs, kisses her.) Iâve waited so long for you, my precious darling ⊠I must tell you this now, I canât hold back another second âŠ
ANYA (listlessly). Not again âŠ
DUNYASHA. Yepikhodov, the clerk, proposed to me just after Easter.
ANYA. The same old story ⊠(Fixing her hair.) Iâve lost all my hairpins ⊠(She is very fatigued, almost staggering.)
DUNYASHA. I mean, I donât know what to think. Heâs very much in love with me.
ANYA (gazing fondly at her bedroom door). My own room, my own windows, just as if Iâd never left. Iâm home! Iâll get up tomorrow morning, and run into the garden ⊠Oh, if only I could get to sleep! I havenât slept a wink the whole road, Iâm worn out with worry.
DUNYASHA. Mr Trofimov arrived the day before yesterday.
ANYA (joyfully). Trofimov!
DUNYASHA. Heâs sleeping in the bath-house, thatâs where heâs staying. He didnât want to put anybody out, he said. (Glances at her pocket-watch.) I really ought to wake him, but Miss Varya told me not to. Donât you dare wake him up, she says.
VARYA enters, with a bunch of keys at her waist.
VARYA. Dunyasha, what about that coffee? Mamaâs asking for coffee.
DUNYASHA. Right this minute. (Exits.)
VARYA. Well, thank heavens youâre back. Youâre home again. (Hugs her.) My little darlingâs home again! My lovely girlâs home!
ANYA. Youâve no idea what Iâve been through.
VARYA. I can imagine.
ANYA. I left here just before Easter, it was cold then. Charlotta never stopped talking the whole way, doing her card tricks. What on earth possessed you to hang Charlotta round my neck?
VARYA. Well, I couldnât let you travel alone, my darling, not at seventeen.
ANYA. Anyway, when we got to Paris it was cold there too, snowing. My French is abysmal. Mama was staying on the fourth floor, and when I went to see her she had all these French gentlemen with her, and ladies, and some old Catholic priest with his little book, and the whole place was full of tobacco smoke, very uncomfortable. I suddenly felt so sorry for Mama, so terribly sorry, that I put my arms round her, pressed her head to my breast, and couldnât let go. And Mama couldnât stop hugging and kissing me, and crying âŠ
VARYA (tearfully). Donât ⊠I donât want to hear âŠ
ANYA. Sheâs sold her villa at Menton, sheâs got nothing left, absolutely nothing. And I havenât a kopeck either, we barely mana...