(draws her close and kisses her) I’ll have my coffee and then we’ll all go. (Firs puts a cushion under her feet) Thank you, you’re a dear. I’ve got used to having my coffee, I drink it day and night. Thank you, my dear old friend. (kisses Firs)

VARYAI’ll go and see that they’ve brought everything in.

Varya goes out.

LIUBOVAm I really here? Is this me? (laughs) I feel like dancing about and swinging my arms around. (covers her face with her hands) Perhaps it’s all a dream. God knows I love my country, I love it so dearly. I couldn’t see out of the train window, I was crying so much. (on the brink of tears) Well, I must drink my coffee. Thank you, Firs, thank you, you dear old man, I’m so glad you didn’t die.

FIRSThe day before yesterday.

GAEVHis hearing’s gone.

LOPAKHINI’ve got to leave for Kharkov soon, by the early train—it’s a nuisance. I was looking forward to seeing you and having a talk—you still look as wonderful as ever.

PISHCHIK (breathing heavily)More than ever . . . dressed in the latest Paris fashions. You could tip my cart wheels-up!

LOPAKHINYour brother here thinks I’m vulgar, a jumped–up kulak, but I don’t care, he can think what he likes, all I care is that you trust me as you used to—and when you look at me with those heartbreaking eyes you see me as you always did. Merciful God—my father was a serf in your father’s time, and before that he belonged to your grandfather, but you—you alone—you were always so good to me that I no longer think about that, and I love you like my own flesh and blood . . . more than my flesh and blood.

LIUBOVI can’t sit still—my body won’t let me.

Liubov leaps up and walks up and down, in a great agitation.

LIUBOV (cont.)I could die with happiness, I’m silly with it and you can laugh at me. Here’s my little book cupboard!—(kissing the book cupboard) and my little table . . .

GAEVNanny died while you were away.

Liubov sits down and sips her coffee.

LIUBOVI know, God rest her. They wrote to me.

GAEVAnd Anastasii died . . . Pyotr the squint has left—he’s in town in the police office now.

He takes a box of lemon drops out of his pocket and sucks one.

PISHCHIKMy daughter Dashenka asks to be remembered.

LOPAKHINLook, there’s something I came to tell you, something nice, to cheer you up. (looking at his watch) I haven’t got much time to go into it, I have to leave soon, but, well, all right, I’ll make it quick. As you know only too well, the cherry orchard is to be sold off against your debts, the auction is fixed for the 22nd of August—but you needn’t distress yourself, my dear, you can sleep easy, because there is a way out. Here’s what I’ve thought of, listen carefully. Your estate is only a dozen miles from town, the new railway branch runs alongside it, and if the cherry orchard and the land along the river were divided up into lots for leasing out for summer cottages, you’d end up with an income of at least twenty-five thousand roubles a year.

GAEVExcuse me, but what is this nonsense!

LIUBOVI don’t understand what you mean.

LOPAKHINPeople will pay at least twenty-five roubles a year for the building plots, and if you advertise now I’ll bet you anything you like that by August there won’t be a plot left, they’ll be snapped up.