The Cherry Orchard

  The Cherry Orchard

  Plays

  Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead *

  Enter a Free Man * · The Real Inspector Hound *

  After Magritte * · Jumpers * · Travesties *

  Dirty Linen and New-Found-Land *

  Every Good Boy Deserves Favour *

  Night and Day · Dogg’s Hamlet, Cahoot’s Macbeth *

  Undiscovered Country

  (adapted from Arthur Schnitzler’s Das weite Land)

  On the Razzle

  (adapted from Johann Nestroy’s Einen Jux will er sich machen)

  The Real Thing · Rough Crossing

  (adapted from Ferenc Molnár’s Play at the Castle)

  Dalliance (adapted from Arthur Schnitzler’s Liebelei)

  Hapgood · Arcadia

  Indian Ink (an adaptation of In the Native State)

  The Invention of Love * · Voyage: The Coast of Utopia Part I *

  Shipwreck: The Coast of Utopia Part II *

  Salvage: The Coast of Utopia Part III *

  Rock ‘n‘ Roll *

  Television Scripts

  A Separate Peace · Teeth · Another Moon Called Earth

  Neutral Ground · Professional Foul · Squaring the Circle

  Radio Plays

  The Dissolution of Dominic Boot

  “M” Is for Moon Among Other Things

  If You’re Glad, I’ll Be Frank · Albert’s Bridge

  Where Are They Now? · Artist Descending a Staircase

  The Dog It Was That Died · In the Native State

  On Dover Beach

  Screenplays

  Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

  Shakespeare in Love (with Marc Norman)

  Fiction

  Lord Malquist and Mr. Moon*

  *Available from Grove Press

  The Cherry Orchard

  A Comedy in Four Acts

  BY

  ANTON CHEKHOV

  ENGLISH VERSION

  BY TOM STOPPARD

  From a Literal Translation by Helen Rappaport

  Grove Press

  New York

  Adaptation copyright © 2009 by Tom Stoppard

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may he reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, or the facilitation thereof, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Any members of educational institutions wishing to photocopy part or all of the work for classroom use, or publishers who would like to obtain permission to include the work in an anthology, should send their inquiries to Grove/Atlantic, Inc., 841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003.

  CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that The Cherry Orchard is subject to a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, and all British Commonwealth countries, and all countries covered by the International Copyright Union, the Pan-American Copyright Convention, and the Universal Copyright Convention. All rights, including professional, amateur, motion picture, recitation, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.

  First-class professional, stock, and amateur applications for permission to perform it, and those other rights stated above, for The Cherry Orchard must be made in advance to the author’s agent, Rosenstone/Wender, 38 East 29th Street, New York, NY 10016.

  Printed in the United States of America

  ISBN-13: 978-0-8021-4409-6

  eISBN: 9780802191014

  Grove Press

  an imprint of Grove/Atlantic, Inc

  841 Broadway

  New York, NY 10003

  Distributed by Publishers Group West

  www/groveatlantic.com

  09 10 11 12 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Tom Stoppard’s English version of The Cherry Orchard by Anton Chekhov had its first performance at the Brooklyn Academy of Music’s Harvey Theater, Brooklyn, New York, on 2 January 2009, and its UK premiere at The Old Vic Theatre, London, on 23 May 2009 and was presented by The Bridge Project, a collaboration of the Brooklyn Academy of Music, The Old Vic, and Neal Street Productions.

  The cast in order of appearance was as follows:

  DUNYASHACharlotte Parry

  LOPAKHINSimon Russell Beale

  YEPIKHODOVTobias Segal

  ANYAMorven Christie

  RANEVSKAYASinéad Cusack

  VARYARebecca Hall

  GAEVPaul Jesson

  CHARLOTTA IVANOVNASelina Cadell

  SIMEONOV-PISHCHIKDakin Matthews

  YASHA Josh Hamilton

  FIRSRichard Easton

  TROFIMOVEthan Hawke

  PASSER-BYGary Powell

  STATION MASTERMark Nelson

  POST OFFICE CLERKAaron Krohn

  GUESTS, SERVANTSMichael Braun, Aaron Krohn, Jessica Pollert Smith, and Hannah Stokely

  DirectorSam Mendes

  Set designAnthony Ward

  Costume designCatherine Zuber

  Lighting designPaul Pyant

  Sound designPaul Arditti

  MusicMark Bennett

  THE CHERRY ORCHARD

  LIST OF CHARACTERS

  RANEVSKAYA, Liubov Andreevna, a landowner

  ANYA, her daughter, seventeen years old

  VARYA, her adopted daughter, twenty-four years old

  GAEV, Leonid Andreevich, Ranevskaya’s brother

  LOPAKHIN, Yermolai Alekseevich, a businessman

  TROFIMOV, Pyotr Sergeevich, a student

  SIMEONOV-PISHCHIK, Boris Borisovich, a landowner

  CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA, a governess

  YEPIKHODOV, Semyon Panteleevich, a clerk

  DUNYASHA, a housemaid

  FIRS, a manservant, eighty-seven years old

  YASHA, a young manservant

  PASSER-BY

  STATION MASTER

  POST OFFICE CLERK

  GUESTS, SERVANTS

  ACT ONE

  A room which is still called the nursery. One of the doors leads into Anya’s room. Daybreak, just before sunrise. It is May but still cold, with a morning frost. LOPAKHIN has fallen asleep over a book. A train is approaching at a distance, slowing down. It gets closer and louder, still slowing. At its closest approach, not proximate, Lopakhin stirs, still asleep. The book falls from his lap. Still slowing but receding now, the train gives a quite distant warning whistle of imminent arrival. Lopakhin wakes, collecting himself, then cross with himself. The train is no longer heard. DUNYASHA enters, surprised to see Lopakhin there.

  DUNYASHAI thought you’d gone to the station.

  LOPAKHINThank God the train’s in at last. What time is it?

  DUNYASHANearly two (she blows out the candle) It’s already light.

  LOPAKHINSo it’s, what, two hours late. More. (he yawns and stretches) Well, what a fool I am. Came all this way specially to meet them off the train, and fell asleep sitting here. You should have woken me.

  DUNYASHAI thought you’d gone.

  Pause.

  LOPAKHIN (pensive)Liubov Andreevna Ranevskaya . . .

  Pause.

  LOPAKHIN (cont.)I wonder what she’s like now after five years living abroad. She’s a good woman. An easy, straightforward sort of person. Once, when I was just a kid, fifteen or so, my father, he’s dead now but he used to have a shop in the village, well, he thumped me in the face, my nose was bleeding like a tap. We’d come into the yard out there (he gestures) for some reason, and he was drunk. Liubov Andreevna—I can see her now, she was a skinny litt
le thing when she was young—she brought me indoors, into this very room, it was the nursery. She takes me over to the washstand. “Don’t cry, little peasant,” she says, “it’ll be better in time for your wedding.”

  Pause.

  LOPAKHIN (cont.)“Little peasant.” Son of a peasant, true enough, and here I am in a white waistcoat and fancy shoes like a pig in a parlour, only rich, with money to spend but look twice and I’m still a peasant to a peasant. (he picks up the book) I was reading this book, couldn’t understand a word of it. I fell asleep over it.

  DUNYASHAI think they’re here.

  LOPAKHIN (listens)No, there’ll be bags to get down and all that sort of thing.

  Pause.

  DUNYASHAThe dogs were stirring all night—they know the mistress is coming.

  LOPAKHINAre you all right, Dunyasha?—you’re . . .

  DUNYASHAMy hands won’t stop shaking. I feel as if I’m going to swoon.

  LOPAKHINYou’re too sensitive for your own good. You dress up like a lady, and look at your hair. It won’t do. You want to remember where you come from.

  Enter YEPIKHODOV with a bunch of flowers. He wears a jacket and brightly polished boots that squeak loudly. As he enters, he drops a few flowers clumsily.

  YEPIKHODOV (picking up the flowers)For the dining-room—the gardener sent them in.

  He hands Dunyasha the flowers.

  LOPAKHIN (to Dunyasha)And bring me some kvass, would you?

  DUNYASHA (going out)Yes, sir.

  YEPIKHODOVThree degrees of frost and the cherry trees in blossom—I don’t call that a climate, I mean really, the seasons get no cooperation at all. And while I’m on the subject, I bought these boots three days ago and they squeak, see for yourself, there’s nothing to be done with them, I mean, what can I grease them with?

  LOPAKHINGive it a rest, you’re getting on my nerves.

  YEPIKHODOVEvery day there’s something, some misfortune. But do I complain? I do not. I’m used to it. Keep smiling, that’s me.

  Dunyasha enters, and gives Lopakhin the kvass.

  YEPIKHODOVI’ll be off then.

  He stumbles into a chair, which falls over.

  YEPIKHODOV (cont.)There, you see! (triumphant) See what I mean? What a circumstancive situation if I say so myself. It’s uncanny.

  Yepikhodov goes out.

  DUNYASHAShall I tell you something?—he’s proposed to me, Yepikhodov has!

  LOPAKHINHas he!

  DUNYASHAI don’t know what to think. He’s normally the quiet type but now and again when he gets to talking he doesn’t make a lot of sense. He talks very nice and you can tell he means it but you can’t understand what he’s on about. I even quite like him, I think. He’s mad about me! But he’s an unlucky sort of person, things keep happening to him. The servants call him Catastrophe Corner.

  LOPAKHIN (listening)I think they’re coming.

  DUNYASHAThey’re here! What’s the matter with me? I’m shivering.

  LOPAKHINYes, that’s them. We should go and meet them. I wonder if she’ll recognize me, it’s been five years. . . .

  DUNYASHA (agitated)I’m going to faint away!—I am, I’m going to faint!

  Two carriages can be heard drawing up to the house. Lopakhin and Dunyasha hurry out. The stage is empty. Noises off. FIRS, who has been to meet the train, hurriedly crosses the stage, leaning on a stick. He is wearing ancient livery and a top hat. He is muttering inaudibly. The noise off-stage increases.

  ANYA’S VOICEWe can go through here.

  A crowd of people enter and cross the stage: LIUBOV ANDREEVNA, ANYA and CHARLOTTA IVANOVNA, who has a small dog on a lead, all dressed for travelling; VARYA in an overcoat and kerchief, GAEV, SIMEONOV-PISHCHIK, Lopakhin, Dunyasha, with a bundle and an umbrella, and servants with luggage, etc.

  ANYADo you remember what room this is, Mama?

  LIUBOV (joyfully, on the brink of tears)The nursery!

  VARYAIt’s so cold. My hands are numb. (to Liubov Andreevna) We’ve kept your rooms just as they were, Mama—the white room and the lavender room, do you remember?

  LIUBOVThe nursery . . . ! My dear beautiful nursery. This is where I used to sleep when I was little . . . (weeping now) I’m a little girl again . . . (she kisses her brother, Gaev, and her adopted daughter, Varya, then Gaev again) Varya hasn’t changed at all, you still look like a nun. And I know you, Dunyasha . . . (she kisses Dunyasha).

  GAEVThe train was two hours late. Just think of it! They need to get themselves organised.

  CHARLOTTA (to Pishchik)This dog eats nuts.

  PISHCHIK (amazed)Really? Fancy that!

  Everyone continues out except Anya and Dunyasha.

  DUNYASHAWe waited and waited till we thought you’d never come.

  Dunyasha takes off Anya’s coat and hat.

  ANYAI didn’t sleep for four nights on the train. I’m frozen stiff.

  DUNYASHAWhen you set off in Lent it was all snow and ice—but now look! (laughs, kisses her) I’ve been waiting for you, my lovely, my precious, I have to tell you, I can’t wait another minute . . .

  ANYA (tiredly)What now?

  DUNYASHAYepikhodov the clerk, straight after Easter, he proposed to me!

  ANYAThat’s all you ever think about. (tidying her hair) I’ve lost all my hairpins one by one.

  She is almost staggering with exhaustion.

  DUNYASHAI just don’t know what to think. He’s terribly in love with me.

  ANYA (looks through her doorway, tenderly)Oh, my room, my windows . . . ! As though I’ve never been away. Home at last! When I wake up I’m going to go straight out into the garden. If only I could get to sleep! The whole way here I was so worried I never slept at all.

  DUNYASHATrofimov’s come back.

  ANYA (joyfully)Petya’s here?

  DUNYASHAThe day before yesterday. He’s asleep in the bathhouse—he’s moved in there. He says he doesn’t want to be in the way. (looking at her pocket watch) I ought to wake him up, but Varya said not to. Don’t you go waking him, she said.

  Enter Varya. On her belt she has a bunch of keys.

  VARYAMama’s asking for coffee—quick as you can, Dunyasha.

  DUNYASHAComing, coming!

  She goes out.

  VARYAWell, you’re here at last, thank the Lord—home again. (cuddles her) My little one is home—my darling.

  ANYAWhat I’ve been through since I saw you!

  VARYAI can just imagine!

  ANYAIt was so cold when I left in Easter week. Charlotta talked the whole way and never left off with her conjuring tricks. Why ever did you have to stick me with her?

  VARYAMy darling, you can’t go travelling on your own at seventeen.

  ANYAAnyway, we get to Paris and it’s so cold. It’s snowing. My French is hopeless. Mama’s living five floors up. So I arrive and she’s got some French people with her, some ladies, and an old Catholic priest mumbling over a book. It was horribly crowded with everybody smoking. All of a sudden I felt so sorry for Mama, I put my arms around her head and hugged her tight, I couldn’t let go, and then she was kissing me and crying . . .

  VARYA (fighting back tears)Don’t . . . don’t . . .

  ANYAThe villa near Menton is already sold. She has nothing left, nothing at all. I haven’t got a kopek, we barely made it to Paris. And Mama simply doesn’t take it in. At the station restaurant she ordered the most expensive things on the menu and tipped the waiters a rouble each. Charlotta’s the same. And Yasha orders for himself, it’s just awful. Yasha is Mama’s footman now, we brought him back with us.

  VARYAI saw him, the good-for-nothing.

  ANYASo, what’s happening?—has the interest been paid?

  VARYAWith what?

  ANYAOh God, please God . . .

  VARYAThe whole estate’s going to be sold by August.

  ANYAOh God . . . !

  Lopakhin looks in, moos, and disappears.

  VARYA (on the brink of tears)Oh, I’d like to . . .

  Varya makes a fist. Anya embraces h
er gently.

  ANYAVarya, has he proposed yet?

  Varya shakes her head.

  ANYA (cont.)But it’s obvious he loves you. Why can’t the two of you come to an understanding? What are you waiting for?

  VARYAIf you want to know what I think, nothing’s going to come of it. He’s busy with his affairs, he hasn’t got time. He doesn’t take any notice of me. Well, good luck to him. I don’t want to see him, it just makes me unhappy. People keep talking about our marriage, some of them even congratulate me, but it’s all built on nothing, it’s all a fantasy. (with a change of tone) Oh—you’re wearing a new brooch, it’s a bumble bee.

  ANYA (despairing)Mama just had to buy it for me.

  Anya goes into her room, talking cheerfully, a child again.

  ANYA (cont.)In Paris I went up in a hot-air balloon!

  VARYA (laughs happily)Now I know you’re back! My Anya is home!

  Dunyasha has returned with a coffee pot and is pouring the coffee. Varya talks to Anya through the door.

  VARYA (cont.)All day long while I’m seeing to the house, I’m racking my brains. If only we could get you married off to some rich man, it would be such a weight off my mind. I could disappear into a retreat somewhere, disappear further and further, to Kiev, to Moscow. I’d go on a pilgrimage around all the holy places, I’d walk forever, oh, what a glorious thought!

  ANYAThe birds are singing in the orchard! What time is it?

  VARYAIt must be well after two. Bedtime for you, my pet.

  She follows Anya into her room.

  VARYA (cont.). . . Yes . . . what a glorious thought.

  YASHA enters with a rug and a travelling bag, and crosses the stage with exaggerated discretion.

  YASHAMay one intrude?—just passing through.

  DUNYASHAI wouldn’t have known you, Yasha. Abroad has changed you.

  YASHAOh yes?—and who might you be?

  DUNYASHAWhen you left I was so-high . . . (indicating height from the floor) Dunyasha, Fyodor Kozoedov’s daughter. You don’t remember!

  YASHAAh yes . . . and ripe for plucking!

  Yasha looks around and then puts his arms around her; she shrieks and drops a saucer. Yasha hurries out.

  VARYA (in the doorway, irritably)What’s going on?