will be sold in August.

ANYA. O God....

LOPAKHIN. [Looks in at the door and moos] Moo!... [Exit.]

VARYA. [Through her tears] I'd like to.... [Shakes her fist.]

ANYA. [Embraces VARYA, softly] Varya, has he proposed to you? [VARYA
shakes head] But he loves you.... Why don't you make up your minds? Why
do you keep on waiting?

VARYA. I think that it will all come to nothing. He's a busy man. I'm
not his affair... he pays no attention to me. Bless the man, I don't
want to see him.... But everybody talks about our marriage, everybody
congratulates me, and there's nothing in it at all, it's all like a
dream. [In another tone] You've got a brooch like a bee.

ANYA. [Sadly] Mother bought it. [Goes into her room, and talks lightly,
like a child] In Paris I went up in a balloon!

VARYA. My darling's come back, my pretty one's come back! [DUNYASHA has
already returned with the coffee-pot and is making the coffee, VARYA
stands near the door] I go about all day, looking after the house, and
I think all the time, if only you could marry a rich man, then I'd be
happy and would go away somewhere by myself, then to Kiev... to Moscow,
and so on, from one holy place to another. I'd tramp and tramp. That
would be splendid!

ANYA. The birds are singing in the garden. What time is it now?

VARYA. It must be getting on for three. Time you went to sleep, darling.
[Goes into ANYA'S room] Splendid!

[Enter YASHA with a plaid shawl and a travelling bag.]

YASHA. [Crossing the stage: Politely] May I go this way?

DUNYASHA. I hardly knew you, Yasha. You have changed abroad.

YASHA. Hm... and who are you?

DUNYASHA. When you went away I was only so high. [Showing with her hand]
I'm Dunyasha, the daughter of Theodore Kozoyedov. You don't remember!

YASHA. Oh, you little cucumber!

[Looks round and embraces her. She screams and drops a saucer. YASHA
goes out quickly.]

VARYA. [In the doorway: In an angry voice] What's that?

DUNYASHA. [Through her tears] I've broken a saucer.

VARYA. It may bring luck.

ANYA. [Coming out of her room] We must tell mother that Peter's here.

VARYA. I told them not to wake him.

ANYA. [Thoughtfully] Father died six years ago, and a month later my
brother Grisha was drowned in the river--such a dear little boy of
seven! Mother couldn't bear it; she went away, away, without looking
round.... [Shudders] How I understand her; if only she knew! [Pause] And
Peter Trofimov was Grisha's tutor, he