GAEV. Snob. Still, I beg pardon.... Varya’s going to marry him, he’s Varya’s young man.
VARYA. Don’t talk too much, uncle.
LUBOV. Why not, Varya? I should be very glad. He’s a good man.
PISCHIN. To speak the honest truth... he’s a worthy man.... And my Dashenka... also says that... she says lots of things. [Snores, but wakes up again at once] But still, dear madam, if you could lend me... 240 roubles... to pay the interest on my mortgage to-morrow...
VARYA. [Frightened] We haven’t got it, we haven’t got it!
LUBOV. It’s quite true. I’ve nothing at all.
PISCHIN. I’ll find it all right [Laughs] I never lose hope. I used to think, “Everything’s lost now. I’m a dead man,” when, lo and behold, a railway was built over my land... and they paid me for it. And something else will happen to-day or to-morrow. Dashenka may win 20,000 roubles... she’s got a lottery ticket.
LUBOV. The coffee’s all gone, we can go to bed.
FIERS. [Brushing GAEV’S trousers; in an insistent tone] You’ve put on the wrong trousers again. What am I to do with you?
VARYA. [Quietly] Anya’s asleep. [Opens window quietly] The sun has risen already; it isn’t cold. Look, little mother: what lovely trees! And the air! The starlings are singing!