The Cherry Orchard / Вишневый сад. Книга для чтения на английском языке

[Sings]

“Oh that the heart was warmed,

By all the flames of love returned!”

Yashasings too.

Charlotta. These people sing terribly… Foo! Like jackals.

Dunyasha. [ToYasha] Still, it must be nice to live abroad.

Yasha. Yes, certainly. I cannot differ from you there. [Yawns and lights a cigar.]

Epikhodov. That is perfectly natural. Abroad everything is in full complexity.

Yasha. That goes without saying.

Epikhodov. I’m an educated man, I read various remarkable books, but I cannot understand the direction I myself want to go – whether to live or to shoot myself, as it were.

Charlotta. I’ve done. Now I’ll go. [Slings the rifle] You, Epikhodov, are a very clever man and very terrible; women must be madly in love with you. Brrr!! [Going] These wise ones are all so stupid. I’ve nobody to talk to. I’m always alone, alone; I’ve nobody at all… and I don’t know who I am or why I live.

Epikhodov. As a matter of fact, independently of everything else, I must express my feeling, among other things, that fate has been as pitiless in her dealings with me as a storm is to a small ship. Suppose, let us grant, I am wrong; then why did I wake up this morning, to give an example, and behold an enormous spider on my chest, like that. [Shows with both hands] And if I do drink some kvass, why is it that there is bound to be something of the most indelicate nature in it, such as a beetle? [Pause] Have you read Buckle? [Pause] I should like to trouble you, Avdotya Fedorovna, for two words.

Dunyasha. Say on.

Epikhodov. I should prefer to be alone with you. [Sighs.]

Dunyasha. [Shy] Very well, only first bring me my little cloak… It’s by the cupboard. It’s a little damp here.

Epikhodov. Very well… I’ll bring it… Now I know what to do with my revolver. [Takes guitar and exits, strumming.

Yasha. Two-and-twenty troubles! A silly man, between you and me and the gatepost. [Yawns.]

Dunyasha. I hope to goodness he won’t shoot himself. [Pause] I’m so nervous, I’m worried. I went into service when I was quite a little girl, and now I’m not used to common life, and my hands are white, white as a lady’s. I’m so tender and so delicate now; respectable and afraid of everything… I’m so frightened.