LUBOV. [Angry, but restrained] You're twenty-six or twenty-seven, and
still a schoolboy of the second class!

TROFIMOV. Why not!

LUBOV. You ought to be a man, at your age you ought to be able to
understand those who love. And you ought to be in love yourself, you
must fall in love! [Angry] Yes, yes! You aren't pure, you're just a
freak, a queer fellow, a funny growth...

TROFIMOV. [In horror] What is she saying!

LUBOV. "I'm above love!" You're not above love, you're just what our
Fiers calls a bungler. Not to have a mistress at your age!

TROFIMOV. [In horror] This is awful! What is she saying? [Goes quickly
up into the drawing-room, clutching his head] It's awful... I can't
stand it, I'll go away. [Exit, but returns at once] All is over between
us! [Exit.]

LUBOV. [Shouts after him] Peter, wait! Silly man, I was joking! Peter!
[Somebody is heard going out and falling downstairs noisily. ANYA and
VARYA scream; laughter is heard immediately] What's that?

[ANYA comes running in, laughing.]

ANYA. Peter's fallen downstairs! [Runs out again.]

LUBOV. This Peter's a marvel.

[The STATION-MASTER stands in the middle of the drawing-room and recites
"The Magdalen" by Tolstoy. He is listened to, but he has only delivered
a few lines when a waltz is heard from the front room, and the
recitation is stopped. Everybody dances. TROFIMOV, ANYA, VARYA, and
LUBOV ANDREYEVNA come in from the front room.]

LUBOV. Well, Peter... you pure soul... I beg your pardon... let's dance.

[She dances with PETER. ANYA and VARYA dance. FIERS enters and stands
his stick by a side door. YASHA has also come in and looks on at the
dance.]

YASHA. Well, grandfather?

FIERS. I'm not well. At our balls some time back, generals and barons
and admirals used to dance, and now we send for post-office clerks and
the Station-master, and even they come as a favour. I'm very weak. The
dead master, the grandfather, used to give everybody sealing-wax when
anything was wrong. I've taken sealing-wax every day for twenty years,
and more; perhaps that's why I still live.

YASHA. I'm tired of you, grandfather. [Yawns] If you'd only hurry up and
kick the bucket.

FIERS. Oh you... bungler! [Mutters.]

[TROFIMOV and LUBOV ANDREYEVNA dance in the reception-room, then into
the sitting-room.]

LUBOV. _Merci_. I'll sit down. [Sits] I'm tired.

[Enter ANYA.]

ANYA. [Excited] Somebody in the kitchen was saying just now that the
cherry orchard was sold