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    The Cherry Orchard: A comedy in four acts
    The Cherry Orchard: A comedy in four acts
    The Cherry Orchard: A comedy in four acts
    Ebook88 pages1 hour

    The Cherry Orchard: A comedy in four acts

    By Anton Chekhov

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    About this ebook

    Inspired by experiences in Chekhov's own life, Cherry Orchard follows life of an aristocratic Russian woman and her family as they return to the family's estate. Written as a comedy and containing elements of farce, Stanislavski directed the play as a tragedy in Moscow. Since this initial production, many prominent directors of the world continue to stage this play, each interpreting the work differently.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSovereign
    Release dateJun 8, 2012
    ISBN9781909175235
    The Cherry Orchard: A comedy in four acts
    Author

    Anton Chekhov

    Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (1860–1904) was a Russian doctor, playwright, and author. His best known works include the plays The Seagull (1896), Uncle Vanya (1900), and The Cherry Orchard (1904), and the short stories “The Lady with the Dog,” “Peasants,” and “The Darling.” One of the most influential and widely anthologized writers in Russian history, Chekhov spent most of his career as a practicing physician and devoted much of his energy to treating the poor, free of charge. He died of tuberculosis in 1904.  

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      Book preview

      The Cherry Orchard - Anton Chekhov

      Anton Chekhov

      The Cherry Orchard

      A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS

      New Edition, Plays by Anton Chekhov

      Published by Sovereign

      [email protected]

      www.interactive.eu.com

      This Edition

      First published in 2012

      Author: Anton Chekhov, Translator: Julius West, Editor: Max Bollinger

      Copyright © 2012 Sovereign

      Cover design and artwork © 2012 urban-pic.co.uk

      All Rights Reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

      The greatest care has been taken in compiling this book. However, no responsibility can be accepted by the publishers or compilers for the accuracy of the information presented.

      ISBN: 9781909175228 (pbk)

      ISBN: 9781909175235 (ebk)

      Bref: Co-03

      Table of Contents

      RUSSIAN WEIGHTS AND MEASURES

      CAST

      ACT ONE

      ACT TWO

      ACT THREE

      ACT FOUR

      RUSSIAN WEIGHTS AND MEASURES

      1 verst = 3600 feet = 2/3 mile (almost)

      1 arshin = 28 inches

      1 dessiatin = 2.7 acres

      1 copeck = 1/4 d

      1 rouble = 100 copecks = 2s. 1d.

      CAST

      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 estate

      ACT ONE

      [A room which is still called the nursery. One of the doors leads into ANYA’S room. It is close on sunrise. It is May. The cherry-trees are in flower but it is chilly in the garden. There is an early frost. The windows of the room are shut. DUNYASHA comes in with a candle, and LOPAKHIN with a book in his hand.]

      LOPAKHIN. The train’s arrived, thank God. What’s the time?

      DUNYASHA. It will soon be two. [Blows out candle] It is light already.

      LOPAKHIN. How much was the train late? Two hours at least. [Yawns and stretches himself] 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. [Listening] I think I hear them coming.

      LOPAKHIN. [Listens] No.... They’ve got to collect their luggage and so on.... [Pause] 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. [Pause] 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. [Turns over the pages of his book] Here I’ve been reading this book, but I understood nothing. I read and fell asleep. [Pause.]

      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. [Enters with a bouquet. He wears a short jacket and brilliantly polished boots which squeak audibly. He drops the bouquet as he enters, then picks it up] The gardener sent these; says they’re to go into the dining-room. [Gives the bouquet to DUNYASHA.]

      LOPAKHIN. And you’ll bring me some kvass.

      DUNYASHA. Very well. [Exit.]

      EPIKHODOV. There’s a frost this morning—three degrees, and the cherry-trees are all in flower. I can’t approve of our climate. [Sighs] 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.

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