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The Cherry Orchard - ebook
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The Cherry Orchard - ebook
The peculiarity of the author’s works were his remarks, which embodied Chekhov’s plan to convey to the reader the atmosphere of his book. The Book of the Cherry Orchard also begins with a remark, which contains a very important phrase: „The room, which is still called the children’s room.” It is simply impossible to depict this replica of the writer on stage, only the reader can imagine and understand that although much time has passed, but nothing has changed, and the room remains what it was, because time in this house seemed to stop or stop.
| Kategoria: | Classic Literature |
| Język: | Angielski |
| Zabezpieczenie: |
Watermark
|
| ISBN: | 978-83-8176-469-8 |
| Rozmiar pliku: | 2,5 MB |
FRAGMENT KSIĄŻKI
CHARACTERS
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA RANEVSKY (Mme. RANEVSKY), a landowner
ANYA, her daughter, aged seventeen
VARYA (BARBARA), her adopted daughter, aged twenty-seven
LEONID ANDREYEVITCH GAEV, Mme. Ranevsky’s brother
ERMOLAI ALEXEYEVITCH LOPAKHIN, a merchant
PETER SERGEYEVITCH TROFIMOV, a student
BORIS BORISOVITCH SIMEONOV-PISCHIN, a landowner
CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA, a governess
SIMEON PANTELEYEVITCH EPIKHODOV, a clerk
DUNYASHA (AVDOTYA FEDOROVNA), a maidservant
FIERS, an old footman, aged eighty-seven
YASHA, a young footman
A TRAMP
A STATION-MASTER
POST-OFFICE CLERK
GUESTS
A SERVANT
The action takes place on Mme. RANEVSKY’S estateACT ONE
LOPAKHIN. The train’s arrived, thank God. What’s the time?
DUNYASHA. It will soon be two. It is light already.
LOPAKHIN. How much was the train late? Two hours at least. I have made a rotten mess of it! I came here on purpose to meet them at the station, and then overslept myself... in my chair. It’s a pity. I wish you’d wakened me.
DUNYASHA. I thought you’d gone away. I think I hear them coming.
LOPAKHIN. No... They’ve got to collect their luggage and so on... Lubov Andreyevna has been living abroad for five years; I don’t know what she’ll be like now... She’s a good sort–an easy, simple person. I remember when I was a boy of fifteen, my father, who is dead–he used to keep a shop in the village here–hit me on the face with his fist, and my nose bled... We had gone into the yard together for something or other, and he was a little drunk. Lubov Andreyevna, as I remember her now, was still young, and very thin, and she took me to the washstand here in this very room, the nursery. She said, “Don’t cry, little man, it’ll be all right in time for your wedding.” “Little man”... My father was a peasant, it’s true, but here I am in a white waistcoat and yellow shoes... a pearl out of an oyster. I’m rich now, with lots of money, but just think about it and examine me, and you’ll find I’m still a peasant down to the marrow of my bones. Here I’ve been reading this book, but I understood nothing. I read and fell asleep.
DUNYASHA. The dogs didn’t sleep all night; they know that they’re coming.
LOPAKHIN. What’s up with you, Dunyasha...?
DUNYASHA. My hands are shaking. I shall faint.
LOPAKHIN. You’re too sensitive, Dunyasha. You dress just like a lady, and you do your hair like one too. You oughtn’t. You should know your place.
EPIKHODOV. The gardener sent these; says they’re to go into the dining-room.
LOPAKHIN. And you’ll bring me some kvass.
DUNYASHA. Very well.
EPIKHODOV. There’s a frost this morning–three degrees, and the cherry-trees are all in flower. I can’t approve of our climate. I can’t. Our climate is indisposed to favour us even this once. And, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, allow me to say to you, in addition, that I bought myself some boots two days ago, and I beg to assure you that they squeak in a perfectly unbearable manner. What shall I put on them?
LOPAKHIN. Go away. You bore me.
EPIKHODOV. Some misfortune happens to me every day. But I don’t complain; I’m used to it, and I can smile. I shall go. There... There, you see, if I may use the word, what circumstances I am in, so to speak. It is even simply marvellous.
DUNYASHA. I may confess to you, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that Epikhodov has proposed to me.
LOPAKHIN. Ah!
DUNYASHA. I don’t know what to do about it. He’s a nice young man, but every now and again, when he begins talking, you can’t understand a word he’s saying. I think I like him. He’s madly in love with me. He’s an unlucky man; every day something happens. We tease him about it. They call him “Two-and-twenty troubles.”
LOPAKHIN. There they come, I think.
DUNYASHA. They’re coming! What’s the matter with me? I’m cold all over.
LOPAKHIN. There they are, right enough. Let’s go and meet them. Will she know me? We haven’t seen each other for five years.
DUNYASHA. I shall faint in a minute... Oh, I’m fainting!
ANYA. Let’s come through here. Do you remember what this room is, mother?
LUBOV. The nursery!
VARYA. How cold it is! My hands are quite numb. Your rooms, the white one and the violet one, are just as they used to be, mother.
LUBOV. My dear nursery, oh, you beautiful room... I used to sleep here when I was a baby. And here I am like a little girl again. And Varya is just as she used to be, just like a nun. And I knew Dunyasha.
GAEV. The train was two hours late. There now; how’s that for punctuality?
CHARLOTTA. My dog eats nuts too.
PISCHIN. To think of that, now!
DUNYASHA. We did have to wait for you!
ANYA. I didn’t get any sleep for four nights on the journey... I’m awfully cold.
DUNYASHA. You went away during Lent, when it was snowing and frosty, but now? Darling! We did have to wait for you, my joy, my pet... I must tell you at once, I can’t bear to wait a minute.
ANYA. Something else now...?
DUNYASHA. The clerk, Epikhodov, proposed to me after Easter.
ANYA. Always the same... I’ve lost all my hairpins...
DUNYASHA. I don’t know what to think about it. He loves me, he loves me so much!
ANYA. My room, my windows, as if I’d never gone away. I’m at home! To-morrow morning I’ll get up and have a run in the garden...Oh, if I could only get to sleep! I didn’t sleep the whole journey, I was so bothered.
DUNYASHA. Peter Sergeyevitch came two days ago.
ANYA. Peter!
DUNYASHA. He sleeps in the bath-house, he lives there. He said he was afraid he’d be in the way. I ought to wake him, but Barbara Mihailovna told me not to. “Don’t wake him,” she said.
VARYA. Dunyasha, some coffee, quick. Mother wants some.
DUNYASHA. This minute.
VARYA. Well, you’ve come, glory be to God. Home again. My darling is back again! My pretty one is back again!
ANYA. I did have an awful time, I tell you.
VARYA. I can just imagine it!
ANYA. I went away in Holy Week; it was very cold then. Charlotta talked the whole way and would go on performing her tricks. Why did you tie Charlotta on to me?
VARYA. You couldn’t go alone, darling, at seventeen!
ANYA. We went to Paris; it’s cold there and snowing. I talk French perfectly horribly. My mother lives on the fifth floor. I go to her, and find her there with various Frenchmen, women, an old abbé with a book, and everything in tobacco smoke and with no comfort at all. I suddenly became very sorry for mother–so sorry that I took her head in my arms and hugged her and wouldn’t let her go. Then mother started hugging me and crying...
VARYA. Don’t say any more, don’t say any more...
ANYA. She’s already sold her villa near Mentone; she’s nothing left, nothing. And I haven’t a copeck left either; we only just managed to get here. And mother won’t understand! We had dinner at a station; she asked for all the expensive things, and tipped the waiters one rouble each. And Charlotta too. Yasha wants his share too–it’s too bad. Mother’s got a footman now, Yasha; we’ve brought him here.
VARYA. I saw the wretch.
ANYA. How’s business? Has the interest been paid?
VARYA. Not much chance of that.
ANYA. Oh God, oh God...
VARYA. The place will be sold in August.
ANYA. O God...
LOPAKHIN. Moo!...
VARYA. I’d like to...
ANYA. Varya, has he proposed to you? 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. You’ve got a brooch like a bee.
ANYA. Mother bought it. In Paris I went up in a balloon!
VARYA. My darling’s come back, my pretty one’s come back! 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. Splendid!
YASHA. 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. I’m Dunyasha, the daughter of Theodore Kozoyedov. You don’t remember!
YASHA. Oh, you little cucumber!
This is a free sample. Please purchase full version of the book to continue.
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA RANEVSKY (Mme. RANEVSKY), a landowner
ANYA, her daughter, aged seventeen
VARYA (BARBARA), her adopted daughter, aged twenty-seven
LEONID ANDREYEVITCH GAEV, Mme. Ranevsky’s brother
ERMOLAI ALEXEYEVITCH LOPAKHIN, a merchant
PETER SERGEYEVITCH TROFIMOV, a student
BORIS BORISOVITCH SIMEONOV-PISCHIN, a landowner
CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA, a governess
SIMEON PANTELEYEVITCH EPIKHODOV, a clerk
DUNYASHA (AVDOTYA FEDOROVNA), a maidservant
FIERS, an old footman, aged eighty-seven
YASHA, a young footman
A TRAMP
A STATION-MASTER
POST-OFFICE CLERK
GUESTS
A SERVANT
The action takes place on Mme. RANEVSKY’S estateACT ONE
LOPAKHIN. The train’s arrived, thank God. What’s the time?
DUNYASHA. It will soon be two. It is light already.
LOPAKHIN. How much was the train late? Two hours at least. I have made a rotten mess of it! I came here on purpose to meet them at the station, and then overslept myself... in my chair. It’s a pity. I wish you’d wakened me.
DUNYASHA. I thought you’d gone away. I think I hear them coming.
LOPAKHIN. No... They’ve got to collect their luggage and so on... Lubov Andreyevna has been living abroad for five years; I don’t know what she’ll be like now... She’s a good sort–an easy, simple person. I remember when I was a boy of fifteen, my father, who is dead–he used to keep a shop in the village here–hit me on the face with his fist, and my nose bled... We had gone into the yard together for something or other, and he was a little drunk. Lubov Andreyevna, as I remember her now, was still young, and very thin, and she took me to the washstand here in this very room, the nursery. She said, “Don’t cry, little man, it’ll be all right in time for your wedding.” “Little man”... My father was a peasant, it’s true, but here I am in a white waistcoat and yellow shoes... a pearl out of an oyster. I’m rich now, with lots of money, but just think about it and examine me, and you’ll find I’m still a peasant down to the marrow of my bones. Here I’ve been reading this book, but I understood nothing. I read and fell asleep.
DUNYASHA. The dogs didn’t sleep all night; they know that they’re coming.
LOPAKHIN. What’s up with you, Dunyasha...?
DUNYASHA. My hands are shaking. I shall faint.
LOPAKHIN. You’re too sensitive, Dunyasha. You dress just like a lady, and you do your hair like one too. You oughtn’t. You should know your place.
EPIKHODOV. The gardener sent these; says they’re to go into the dining-room.
LOPAKHIN. And you’ll bring me some kvass.
DUNYASHA. Very well.
EPIKHODOV. There’s a frost this morning–three degrees, and the cherry-trees are all in flower. I can’t approve of our climate. I can’t. Our climate is indisposed to favour us even this once. And, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, allow me to say to you, in addition, that I bought myself some boots two days ago, and I beg to assure you that they squeak in a perfectly unbearable manner. What shall I put on them?
LOPAKHIN. Go away. You bore me.
EPIKHODOV. Some misfortune happens to me every day. But I don’t complain; I’m used to it, and I can smile. I shall go. There... There, you see, if I may use the word, what circumstances I am in, so to speak. It is even simply marvellous.
DUNYASHA. I may confess to you, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that Epikhodov has proposed to me.
LOPAKHIN. Ah!
DUNYASHA. I don’t know what to do about it. He’s a nice young man, but every now and again, when he begins talking, you can’t understand a word he’s saying. I think I like him. He’s madly in love with me. He’s an unlucky man; every day something happens. We tease him about it. They call him “Two-and-twenty troubles.”
LOPAKHIN. There they come, I think.
DUNYASHA. They’re coming! What’s the matter with me? I’m cold all over.
LOPAKHIN. There they are, right enough. Let’s go and meet them. Will she know me? We haven’t seen each other for five years.
DUNYASHA. I shall faint in a minute... Oh, I’m fainting!
ANYA. Let’s come through here. Do you remember what this room is, mother?
LUBOV. The nursery!
VARYA. How cold it is! My hands are quite numb. Your rooms, the white one and the violet one, are just as they used to be, mother.
LUBOV. My dear nursery, oh, you beautiful room... I used to sleep here when I was a baby. And here I am like a little girl again. And Varya is just as she used to be, just like a nun. And I knew Dunyasha.
GAEV. The train was two hours late. There now; how’s that for punctuality?
CHARLOTTA. My dog eats nuts too.
PISCHIN. To think of that, now!
DUNYASHA. We did have to wait for you!
ANYA. I didn’t get any sleep for four nights on the journey... I’m awfully cold.
DUNYASHA. You went away during Lent, when it was snowing and frosty, but now? Darling! We did have to wait for you, my joy, my pet... I must tell you at once, I can’t bear to wait a minute.
ANYA. Something else now...?
DUNYASHA. The clerk, Epikhodov, proposed to me after Easter.
ANYA. Always the same... I’ve lost all my hairpins...
DUNYASHA. I don’t know what to think about it. He loves me, he loves me so much!
ANYA. My room, my windows, as if I’d never gone away. I’m at home! To-morrow morning I’ll get up and have a run in the garden...Oh, if I could only get to sleep! I didn’t sleep the whole journey, I was so bothered.
DUNYASHA. Peter Sergeyevitch came two days ago.
ANYA. Peter!
DUNYASHA. He sleeps in the bath-house, he lives there. He said he was afraid he’d be in the way. I ought to wake him, but Barbara Mihailovna told me not to. “Don’t wake him,” she said.
VARYA. Dunyasha, some coffee, quick. Mother wants some.
DUNYASHA. This minute.
VARYA. Well, you’ve come, glory be to God. Home again. My darling is back again! My pretty one is back again!
ANYA. I did have an awful time, I tell you.
VARYA. I can just imagine it!
ANYA. I went away in Holy Week; it was very cold then. Charlotta talked the whole way and would go on performing her tricks. Why did you tie Charlotta on to me?
VARYA. You couldn’t go alone, darling, at seventeen!
ANYA. We went to Paris; it’s cold there and snowing. I talk French perfectly horribly. My mother lives on the fifth floor. I go to her, and find her there with various Frenchmen, women, an old abbé with a book, and everything in tobacco smoke and with no comfort at all. I suddenly became very sorry for mother–so sorry that I took her head in my arms and hugged her and wouldn’t let her go. Then mother started hugging me and crying...
VARYA. Don’t say any more, don’t say any more...
ANYA. She’s already sold her villa near Mentone; she’s nothing left, nothing. And I haven’t a copeck left either; we only just managed to get here. And mother won’t understand! We had dinner at a station; she asked for all the expensive things, and tipped the waiters one rouble each. And Charlotta too. Yasha wants his share too–it’s too bad. Mother’s got a footman now, Yasha; we’ve brought him here.
VARYA. I saw the wretch.
ANYA. How’s business? Has the interest been paid?
VARYA. Not much chance of that.
ANYA. Oh God, oh God...
VARYA. The place will be sold in August.
ANYA. O God...
LOPAKHIN. Moo!...
VARYA. I’d like to...
ANYA. Varya, has he proposed to you? 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. You’ve got a brooch like a bee.
ANYA. Mother bought it. In Paris I went up in a balloon!
VARYA. My darling’s come back, my pretty one’s come back! 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. Splendid!
YASHA. 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. I’m Dunyasha, the daughter of Theodore Kozoyedov. You don’t remember!
YASHA. Oh, you little cucumber!
This is a free sample. Please purchase full version of the book to continue.
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