GAEV. [Opens the other window] The whole garden’s white. You haven’t forgotten, Luba? There’s that long avenue going straight, straight, like a stretched strap; it shines on moonlight nights. Do you remember? You haven’t forgotten?
LUBOV. [Looks out into the garden] Oh, my childhood, days of my innocence! In this nursery I used to sleep; I used to look out from here into the orchard. Happiness used to wake with me every morning, and then it was just as it is now; nothing has changed. [Laughs from joy] It’s all, all white! Oh, my orchard! After the dark autumns and the cold winters, you’re young again, full of happiness, the angels of heaven haven’t left you.... If only I could take my heavy burden off my breast and shoulders, if I could forget my past!
GAEV. Yes, and they’ll sell this orchard to pay off debts. How strange it seems!
LUBOV. Look, there’s my dead mother going in the orchard... dressed in white! [Laughs from joy] That’s she.
GAEV. Where?
VARYA. God bless you, little mother.
LUBOV. There’s nobody there; I thought I saw somebody. On the right, at the turning by the summer-house, a white little tree bent down, looking just like a woman. [Enter TROFIMOV in a worn student uniform and spectacles] What a marvellous garden! White masses of flowers, the blue sky....
TROFIMOV. Lubov Andreyevna! [She looks round at him] I only want to show myself, and I’ll go away. [Kisses her hand warmly] I was told to wait till the morning, but I didn’t have the patience.
[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA looks surprised.]
VARYA. [Crying] It’s Peter Trofimov.