Mme. Ranevskaya, shouts after him: Petya! Wait! You absurd fellow, I was joking. Petya!
Sound of somebody running quickly downstairs and suddenly falling down with a crash. Anya and Varya scream. Sound of laughter a moment later.
Mme. R^^vskaya: What's happened?
Anya runs in.
laughing: Petya's fallen downstairs! Runs out.
Mme. RANEVSKAYA: What a queer bird that Petya isl
STATIONMASTER, standing in the middle of the ball- room, recites Alexey Tolstoy's "Magdalene," to which aU listen, but after a few lines, the sound of a waltz is heard from the anteroom and the reading breaks off. AU dance. Trofimov, Anya, Varya, and Mme. Ra- nevskaya enter from the anteroom.
M^. Ranevskaya: Petya, you pure soul, please forgive me. . . . Let's dance.
Dances with PETYA. and Varya dance. Fms
enters, puts his stick down by the «de door. YASHA enters from the drawing-room and watches the dancers.
YASHA: Well, grandfather?
Firs: I'm not feeling well. In the old days it was generals, barons, and admirals that were dancing at our balls, and now we have to send for the Post Office clerk and the Stationmaster, and even they aren't too glad to come. I feel kind of shaky. The old master that's gone, their grandfather, dosed everyone with sealing-wax, whatever ailed 'em. I've been taking sealing-wax every day for twenty years or more. Perhaps that's what's kept me alive.
YASHA: I'm fed up with you, grandpop. Yawns. It's time you croaked.
Firs: Oh, you addlehead! Mumbles.
Trofimov and Mme. dance from the
ballroom into the drawing-room.
Mme. RANEVSKAYA: Merci. I'll sit do^ a while. Sits down. I'm tired.
Enter Anya.
Anya, excitedly: There was a man in the kitchen just now who said the cherry orchard was sold today.
Mme. RANEVSKAYA: Sold to whom?
Anya: He didn't say. He's gone. Dances off with
TROFIMOV.
Yasha: It was some old man gabbing, a stranger.
Firs: And Leonid Andreyevich isn't back yet, he hasn't come. And he's wearing his lightweight between- season overcoat; like enough, he'll catch cold. Ah, when they're young they're green.
Mme. RANEVSKAYA: This is killing me. Go, Yasha, find out to whom it has been sold.
YASHA: But the old man left long ago. Laughs.
Mme. R^^vsKAYA: What are you laughing at? What are you pleased about?
YASHA: That Yepihodov is such a one. A. funny
fellow, Two-and-Twenty Troubles!
Mme. RANEVSKAYA: Firs, if the estate is sold, where will you go?
Fms: I'll go where you tell me.
Mme. RANEVSKAYA: Why do you look like that? Aie you ill? You ought to go to bed.
Firs: Yes! With a snigger. Me go to bed, and who's to hand things round? Who's to see to things? I'm the only one in the whole house.
YASHA, to Mme. RANEVSKAYA: Lubov Andreyevna, allow me to ask a favor of you, be so kind! If you go back to Paris, take me with you, I beg you. It's posi- tively impossible for me to stay here. Looking around; sotto voce. What's the use of talking? You see for yourself, it's an uncivilized country, the people have no morals, and then the boredom! The food in the kitchen's levolting, and besides there's this Firs wanders about mumbling all sorts of inappropriate words. Take me with you, be so kind!
Enter Pishchik.
PiSHCHIK: May I have the pleasure of a waltz with you, charming lady? Mme. RANEVSKAYA accepts. All the same, enchanting lady, you must let me have 180 ru- bles. . . . You must let me have (dancing) just one hundied and eighty rubles. They pass into the ballroom.
YASHA, hums softly: "Oh, wilt thou understand the tumult in my soul?"
In the ballroom a -figure in a gray top hat and checked trousers is jumping about and waving its arms; shouts: "Bravo, Charlotta Ivanovnal"
Dunyasha, stopping to powder her face; to Fms: The young miss has ordered me to dance. There are so many gentlemen and not enough ladies. But dancing makes me dizzy, my heart begins to beat fast, Firs Nikolaye- vich. The Post Office clerk said something to me just now that quite took my breath away. Music stops.
Fms: What did he say?
D^^ASHA: "You're like a flower," he said.
Yasha, yawns: What ignorance. Exits.
DuNYASHA: "Like a flower!" I'm such a delicate girl. I simply adore pretty speeches.
FiRS: You'll come to a bad end.
Enter Yepihodov.
YEPmODOv, to D^^ASHA: You have no wish to see me, Avdotya Fyodorovna . . . as though I was some sort of insect. Sighs. Ah, life!
Dunyasha: What is it you want?
Yepihodov: Indubitably you may be right. Sighs. But of course, if one looks at it from the point of view, if I may be allowed to say so, and apologizing for my frank- ness, you have completely reduced me to a state of mind. I know my fate. Every day some calamity befalls me, and I grew used to it long ago, so that I look upon my fate with a smile. You gave me your word, and though I—
DuNYASHA: Let's talk about it later, please. But just now leave me alone, I am daydreaming. Plays with a fan.
Yepihodov: A misfortune befalls me every day; and if I may be allowed to say so, I merely smile, l even laugh.
Enter Varya.
Varya, to Yepihodov: Are you still here? What an impertinent fellow you are really! Run along, Dunyasha. To Yepihodov. Either you're playing billiards and breaking a cue, or you're wandering about the drawing- room as though you were a guest.
Yepihodov: You cannot, permit me to remark, penal- ize me.
VARYA: I'm not penalizing you; I'm just telling you. You merely wander from place to place, and don't do your work. We keep you as a clerk, but Heaven knows
what for.
YEPiHOOOv, afended: Whether I work or whether I walk, whether I eat or whether I play billiards, is a matter to be discussed only by persons of understanding and of mature years.
Varya, enraged: You dare say that to me—you dare? You mean to say I've no understanding? Get out of here at once! This minute!
YEPiHOOOv, scared: I beg you to express yourself delicately.
Varya, beside herself: Clear out this minute! Out with you!
YEPiHOOOv goes towards the door, Varya following.
Varya: Two-and-Twenty Troubles! Get out—don't let me set eyes on you!
Exit YEPiHOoov. His voice is heard behind the door: "I shaU lodge a complaint against you!"
Varya: Oh, you're coming back? She seizes the stick left near door by FIRs. Well, come then . . . come • . . I'll show you . . . Ah, you're coming? You're coming? . . . Come . . . Swings the stick just as Lo- enters.