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.

      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…

      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]