It was just the same, nothing has changed. (laughs with joy) White everywhere . . . my orchard!—young again after the gloomy darkness of autumn and the winter cold, and happy again, the angels in heaven haven’t forsaken you! Oh, if only I could lose the weight of this stone I carry in my breast. If only I could forget everything up to now!

GAEVAnd now the orchard is going to be sold to pay our debts, hard to believe.

LIUBOVLook!—there’s our darling Mama, dressed in white, walking in the orchard! (laughs with joy)

GAEVWhere?

VARYABless you, Mama.

LIUBOVShe’s gone now. It only looked like it for a minute. There, look, on the right, by the turning toward the summerhouse, that branch bending over like a woman in a white dress.

Enter TROFIMOV. He wears a worn-out student’s uniform and spectacles.

LIUBOV (cont.)Our orchard is simply the most amazing sight—that mass of white blossom against the blue of the sky . . .

TROFIMOVLiubov Andreevna!

Liubov looks round at Trofimov.

TROFIMOV (cont.)I only want to pay my respects and then I’ll go at once. (warmly kissing her hand) They told me to wait till morning but I was too impatient.

Liubov looks at him in bewilderment.

VARYA (on the brink of tears)It’s Petya Trofimov, Mama.

TROFIMOV. . . Yes, your son’s old tutor. Have I really changed so much?

Liubov embraces him and softly weeps.

GAEV (embarrassed)There, there, Liuba.

VARYA (weeps)Oh, really, Petya—I said wait till tomorrow.

LIUBOVMy Grisha . . . my little boy . . . Grisha . . . my son . . .

VARYAWhat can we do, Mama? It was God’s will.

TROFIMOV (tenderly, on the brink of tears)There now . . . there now .