Chapter III: Act I

_A small office room; in the rear wall a door; in the corner on the left a bed, on the right a cupboard. In the left wall a window, and beside the window a table. Near the table a chair; near the right wall a desk and a wooden stool. Beside the bed a guitar; on the table and desk are books and papers_.

SCENE I

MÍTYA _is walking back and forth in the room_. EGÓRUSHKA _is seated on the stool reading_ "Bová Korolévich."

EGÓRUSHKA. [_Reads_] "My sovereign father, glorious and brave king, Kiribít Verzoúlovich, I do not possess the courage to marry him now. Because when I was young I was wooed by King Gvidón."

MÍTYA. Well, Egórushka, is any one at home?

EGÓRUSHKA. [_Putting his finger on the place where he is reading in order not to make a mistake_] Nobody; they've all gone driving. There's only Gordéy Kárpych at home. [_Reads_] "Whereupon Kiribít Verzoúlovich said to his daughter"--[_Again marking the place_]--only he's in such a rage, it's awful! I cleared out--he keeps on cursing. [_Reads_] "Then the beautiful Militrísa Kirbítyevna called her servant Licharda to her."

MÍTYA. With whom was he angry?

EGÓRUSHKA. With my uncle, with Lyubím KÁRPYCH. On the second day of the holidays Uncle Lyubím KÁRPYCH dined with us; at dinner he got drunk and began to play the fool; it was awfully funny. I always get the giggles. I couldn't stand it, and then I burst out laughing, and they were all looking at me. Uncle Gordéy KÁRPYCH took it as a great insult to himself and very bad manners, and he was furious with him and turned him out. Uncle Lyubím Kárpych made a great row, and out of revenge went and stood with the beggars by the church door. Uncle Gordéy Kárpych said: "He has put me to shame," he said, "in the eyes of the whole town." And now he gets angry with everybody who comes near him, no matter who they are. [_Reads_] "With the intention of advancing toward our town."

MÍTYA. [_Looking out of the window_] Here they come, I think. Yes, it's so. Pelagéya Egórovna, Lyubóv Gordéyevna, and guests with them.

EGÓRUSHKA. [_Concealing his story in his pocket_] I'll run up-stairs.
[_Goes out_.

SCENE II

MÍTYA alone

MÍTYA. Oh, Lord, what misery! Everybody in the streets is having a holiday, and everybody in the houses too, and you have to sit between four walls! I am a stranger to all, no relations, no friends!--And then besides!--O well! I'd better get to work; perhaps this wretchedness will pass off. [_Seats himself at the desk and muses, then begins to sing_.

"Her beauty I cannot describe!
Dark eyebrows, with languishing eyes."

Yes, with languishing eyes. And yesterday when she came from mass, in her sable coat, and her little handkerchief on her head, like this--ah!--I really think such beauty was never seen before! [_Muses, then sings_.

"Where, O where was this beauty born!"

My work all goes out of my head! I'm always thinking of her! My heart is tormented with sorrow. O misery most miserable!

_Covers his face with his hands and sits silent. Enter_ PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA, _dressed in winter clothes; she stops in the doorway._

SCENE III

MÍTYA and PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Mítya, Mítya dear!

MÍTYA. What do you want?

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Come up to us later on in the evening, my dear, and play with the girls. We're going to sing songs.

MÍTYA. Thank you exceedingly, I shall make it my first duty.

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Why are you always sitting alone in the office? It's not very cheerful! You'll come, won't you? Gordéy Kárpych won't be at home.

MÍTYA. Good, I shall come without fail.

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. He's going off again, you see; he's going off there to that friend of his--what's his name?

MÍTYA. To Afrikán Savvich?

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, yes! He's quite gone on him! Lord forgive him!

MÍTYA. Take a seat, Pelagéya Egórovna. [_Fetches a chair_.

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Oh, I have no time. Well, yes, I'll sit down a bit. [_Sits down_] Now just think, what a misfortune! Really, they've become such friends that it beats everything! Yes, that's what it's come to! And why? What's the use of it all? Tell me that, pray. Isn't Afrikán Savvich a coarse, drunken fellow? Isn't he?

MÍTYA. Perhaps Gordéy Kárpych has some business with Afrikán Savvich.

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. What sort of business! He has no business at all. You see Afrikán Savvich is always drinking with that Englishman. He has an Englishman as director of his factory, and they drink together! But he's no fit company for my husband. But can you reason with him? Just think how proud he is! He says to me: "There isn't a soul here to speak to; all," he says, "are rabble, all, you see, are just so many peasants, and they live like peasants. But that man, you see, is from Moscow--lives mostly in Moscow--and he's rich." And whatever has happened to him? Well, you see, it was all of a sudden, my dear boy, all of a sudden! He used to have so much sense. Well, we lived, of course not luxuriously, but all the same pretty fairly decently; and then last year he went for a trip, and he caught it from some one. He caught it, he caught it, they have told me so--caught all these tricks. Now he doesn't care for any of our Russian ways. He keeps harping on this: "I want to be up to date, I want to be in the fashion. Yes, yes! Put on a cap," he says! What an idea to get! Am I going to try to charm any one in my old age and make myself look lovely? Bah! You just try to do anything with him. He never drank before--really he didn't--but now he drinks with this Afrikán. It must be that drink has turned his brain [_points to her head_] and muddled him.... [_Silence_] I think now that the devil has got hold of him! Why can't he have some sense! If he were a young fellow! For a young fellow to dress up and all that is all right; but you see he's nearly sixty, my dear, nearly sixty! Really! "Your fashionable up-to-date things," says I, "change every day; our Russian things have lived from time immemorial! The old folks weren't any stupider than we." But can you reason with him, my dear, with his violent character?

MÍTYA. What is there to say? He's a harsh man.

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Lyubóv is just at the right age now; we ought to be settling her, but he keeps dinning it in: "There's no one her equal, no! no!" But there is! But he says there isn't. How hard all this is for a mother's heart.

MÍTYA. Perhaps Gordéy Kárpych wishes to marry Lyubóv Gordéyevna in Moscow.

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Who knows what he has in his mind? He looks like a wild beast, and never says a word, as if I were not a mother. Yes, truly, I never say anything to him; I don't dare; all you can do is to speak with some outsider about your grief, and weep, and relieve your heart; that's all. [_Rises_] You'll come, Mítya?

MÍTYA. I'll come, ma'am.

GÚSLIN _comes in_.

SCENE IV

The _same and_ GÚSLIN

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Here's another fine lad! Come up-stairs to us, Yasha, and sing songs with the girls; you're good at that; and bring along your guitar.

GÚSLIN. Thank you, ma'am: I don't think of that as work; I must say it's a pleasure.

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Well, good-by! I'm going to take a nap for half an hour.

GÚSLIN _and_ MÍTYA. Good-by.

PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA _goes out_; MÍTYA _seats himself dejectedly at the table_; GÚSLIN _seats himself on the bed and takes up the guitar_.

SCENE V

MÍTYA _and_ YÁSHA GÚSLIN

GÚSLIN. What a crowd there was at the fair! Your people were there. Why weren't you?

MÍTYA. Because I felt so awfully miserable.

GÚSLIN. What's the matter? What are you unhappy about?

MÍTYA. How can I help being unhappy? Thoughts like these keep coming into my head: what sort of man am I in the world? My mother is old and poor now, and I must keep her--and how? My salary is small; I get nothing but abuse and insults from Gordéy Kárpych; he keeps reproaching me with my poverty, as if I were to blame--and he doesn't increase my salary. I'd look for another place, but where can one find one without friends? And, yes, I will confess to you that I won't go to another place.

GOSLIN. Why won't you go? There at the Razlyulyáyevs' it's very nice--the people are rich and kind.

MÍTYA. No, Yasha, that doesn't suit me! I'll bear anything from Gordéy Kárpych, I'll stand poverty, but I won't go away. That's my destiny!

GÚSLIN. Why so?

MÍTYA. [_Rises_] Well, I have a reason for this. It is, Yasha, because I have another sorrow--but nobody knows about it. I haven't spoken to any one about my sorrow.

GÚSLIN. Tell me about it.

MÍTYA. [_Waving his hand_] What for?

GÚSLIN. Yes, tell me; don't put on airs!

MÍTYA. Whether I tell you or not, you can't help me!

GÚSLIN. How do you know?

MÍTYA. [_Walking toward_ GÚSLIN] Nobody can help me--I am a lost man! I've fallen wildly in love with Lyubóv Gordéyevna.

GÚSLIN. What's the matter with you, Mítya? Whatever do you mean?

MÍTYA. Well, anyhow, it's a fact.

GÚSLIN. You'd better put it out of your head, Mítya. Nothing can ever come of that, so there's no use thinking about it.

MÍTYA. Though I know all this, one cannot control one's heart. "To love is most easy, one cannot forget." [_He speaks with violent gestures_] "I love the beautiful girl more than family, more than race; but evil people forbid me, and they bid me cease."

GÚSLIN. Yes, indeed; but you must stop it! Now Anna Ivánovna is my equal; she has no money, and I haven't a kopek--and even so uncle forbids me to marry. It's no use for you to think of doing so. You'll get it into your head and then it'll be still harder for you.

MÍTYA. [_Declaiming_] "What of all things is most cruel? The most cruel thing is love." [_Walking about the room_.] Yasha, have you read Koltsóv?

GÚSLIN. Yes, why?

MÍTYA. How he describes all these feelings!

GÚSLIN. He does describe them exactly.

MÍTYA. Exactly, to perfection. [_Walking about the room_] Yasha!

GÚSLIN. What?

MÍTYA. I myself have composed a song.

GÚSLIN. You?

MÍTYA. Yes.

GÚSLIN. Let's make up a tune for it, and we'll sing it.

MÍTYA. Good! Here, take this [_gives him a paper_] and I'll write a little--I have some work: most likely Gordéy Kárpych will be asking me about it. [_Sits and writes_.

GÚSLIN _takes the guitar and begins to pick out a tune_. RAZLYULYÁYEV _comes in with an accordion_.

SCENE VI

_The same and_ RAZLYULYÁYEV

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Hello, boys! [_Plays on the accordion and begins to dance_.

GÚSLIN. What a fool! What did you buy that accordion for?

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Why, I bought it to play on, of course--this way. [_Plays_.

GÚSLIN. Well, that's fine music, I must say! Stop, I tell you!

RAZLYULYÁYEV. What! Do you think I'll stop? I'll stop when I want to.--What airs! Haven't I got any money? [_Slapping his pocket_] It chinks! If we go on a spree--then it's some spree!

"One mountain is high,
And another is low;
One darling is far,
And another is near."

Mítya! [_Strikes_ MÍTYA _on the shoulder_] Mítya, why are you sitting still?

MÍTYA. I have some work to do. [_Continues to work_.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Mítya! Say, Mítya, I'm on a spree, my boy! Really, I am. Oh, come on! [_Sings, "One mountain is high," etc_.] Mítya! Say, Mítya, I'm going on a spree for the whole holiday season--then I'll set to work, upon my word I will! Haven't I got any money? There it is! And I'm not drunk.--Oh, no, such a spree!--so jolly!

MÍTYA. Well, go on a spree as much as you like.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. And after the holidays I shall marry!--Upon my word I shall marry! I'll get a rich girl.

GÚSLIN. Now, then, listen; how does this sound?

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Sing it, sing it! I'll listen.

GÚSLIN. [_Sings_]

"Is naught so hard and evil
As to be fatherless;
Than slavery more grievous
And sharper than distress.

All in the world make holiday,
But lonely you must pine.
Your mind is wild and drunken,
But it came not from the wine.

Youth shall not do your pleasure,
Beauty no healing bear.
Your sweetheart does not comb your locks,
But your harsh stepdame, Care."

_During all this time_ RAZLYULYÁYEV _stands as if rooted to the ground, and listens with emotion; when the song is finished all are silent_.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Good! Very good! It's awfully sad; it takes hold of one's heart. [_Sighs_] Ah, Yasha! play something cheerful; that's enough of this stuff--to-day's a holiday. [_Sings_.

"Who does not love a hussar!
Life without love would be sad!"

Play the tune, Yasha.

GÚSLIN _plays the tune_.

MÍTYA. That's enough of your fooling. Come, now, let's sit down in a circle and sing in a low tone.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. All right. [_They sit down_.

GÚSLIN. [_Begins to sing_; MÍTYA _and_ RAZLYULYÁYEV _join in_]

"Now my young, my young lads,
You my friends...."

_Enter_ GORDÉY KÁRPYCH; _all stand up and stop singing_.

SCENE VII

_The same and_ GORDÉY KÁRPYCH

GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. What's all this screeching! Bawling like so many peasants! [_To_ MÍTYA] And you here! You're not living here in a peasant's hut! What a dram-shop! See that this sort of thing doesn't go on in the future! [_Goes to the table and inspects the papers_] Why are these papers all scattered about?

MÍTYA. I was looking over the accounts, sir. GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [_Takes the book by Koltsóv, and the copy-book with verses_] And this, too, what's this rubbish?

MÍTYA. I was copying these poems of Koltsóv's to pass the time away, since it's a holiday. GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. You are sentimental for a poor lad!

MÍTYA. I just study for my own education, in order to understand things.

GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Education! Do you know what education is?--And yet you keep on talking! You ought to get yourself a new coat! For when you come up-stairs to us and there are guests, it's a disgrace! What do you do with your money?

MÍTYA. I send it to my mother because she is old and has nowhere to get any.

GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Send it to your mother! You ought to educate yourself first; God knows what your mother needs! She wasn't brought up in luxury; most likely she used to look after the cows herself.

MÍTYA. It's better that I should suffer than that my mother should be in any want at all.

GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. This is simply disgusting! If you don't know yourself how to observe decency, then sit in your hovel! If you haven't anything to wear, then don't have any fancies! You write verses, you wish to educate yourself--and you go about looking like a factory hand! Does education consist in this, in singing idiotic songs? You idiot! [_Through his teeth and looking askance at_ MÍTYA] Fool! [_Is silent_] Don't you dare to show yourself in that suit up-stairs. Listen, I tell you! [_To_ RAZLYULYÁYEV] And you too! Your father, to all appearances, rakes up money with a shovel, and you go about in this Russian smock.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. What do you say! It's new--French goods--I ordered it from Moscow--from an acquaintance--twenty rubles a yard! Do you think I ought to go about in a bob-tailed coat, like Franz Fédorych at the apothecary's! Why, they all tease him there!--the deuce of a coat! What's the use of making people laugh! GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Much you know! It's hopeless to expect anything of you! You yourself are an idiot, and your father hasn't much more sense--he always goes about in dirty old clothes. You live like ignorant fools, and like fools you will die.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. That's enough!

GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. What?

RAZLYULYÁYEV. That's enough, I say!

GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Clown! You don't even know how to talk straight! It's simply waste of words to speak to you--like shooting peas against a wall--to waste words on such as you, fools! [_Goes out_.

SCENE VIII

_The same without_ TORTSÓV

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Just look! How savage! What a rage he's in! Oh, we're awfully scared of you--you bet we are!

MÍTYA. [_To_ GÚSLIN] There, that's the sort of life I lead! That's the sort of thing I have to put up with!

RAZLYULYÁYEV. It'll drive you to drink--upon my word, it'll drive you to drink! But you'd better stop thinking about it. [_Sings_.

"One mountain is high,
And another is low;
One darling is far,
And another is near."

_Enter_ LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, ANNA IVÁNOVNA, MÁSHA, _and_ LÍZA.

SCENE IX

_The same and_ LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, ANNA IVÁNOVNA, MÁSHA, _and_ LÍZA.

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Peace, honest company!

RAZLYULYÁYEV. I welcome you to our shanty.

MÍTYA. Our respects! Please come in! What good wind brings you here?

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. No wind--we just took it into our heads and came. Gordéy Kárpych has gone out, and Pelagéya Egórovna has gone to lie down, so now we are free! Be as jolly as you please!

MÍTYA. I humbly beg you to sit down.

_They sit down_; MÍTYA _seats himself opposite_ LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA; RAZLYULYÁYEV _walks about_.

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. It grew dull sitting silent cracking nuts. "Come on, girls," said I, "and see the boys," and that suited the girls.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. What stories you do make up! We never thought of coming here--that was your idea.

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Much you didn't! You were the first! Everybody knows, if a person wants a thing, then he thinks about it; the boys of the girls, and the girls of the boys.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Ha, ha, ha! Anna Ivánovna, you have said it exactly.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Not a bit of it!

MÁSHA. [_To_ LÍZA] Oh, how embarrassing!

LÍZA. Anna Ivánovna, you are just saying what isn't true.

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Oh, you modest thing! I'd like to say a word--but it wouldn't be nice before the boys!--I've been a girl myself. I know all about it.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. There are girls and girls!

MÁSHA. Oh, how embarrassing!

LÍZA. What you say sounds very strange to us, and, I must say, it's disconcerting.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Ha, ha, ha!

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. What were we talking about just now up-stairs? Do you want me to tell? Shall I tell them? Well, have you calmed down now?

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Ha, ha, ha!

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. What are _you_ opening your mouth for? It wasn't about you--don't you worry.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Even if it wasn't about me, still it may be there is some one who thinks about me. I know what I know! [_Dances to a tune_.

"Who does not love a hussar!
Life without love would be sad!"

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. [_Walking towards_ GÚSLIN] Well, guitar player, when will you marry me?

GÚSLIN. [_Playing on the guitar_] When I can get permission from Gordéy Kárpych. What's the use of hurrying! It isn't raining on us! [_Nods his head_] Come along here, Anna Ivánovna; I've got something to say to you.

_She goes to him, and sits near him; he whispers in her ear, looking towards_ LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA _and_ MÍTYA.

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. What do you say!--Really?

GÚSLIN. It's really true.

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Well, then, all right; keep quiet! [_They talk in a whisper_.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. You, Mítya, will you come to us later on in the evening?

MÍTYA. I will.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. And I'm coming; I'm good at dancing. [_Stands with arms akimbo_] Girls! do fall in love with me, one of you!

MÁSHA. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! What's that you're saying?

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Why such airs! I say, fall in love with me, somebody--yes--for my simplicity.

LÍZA. People don't talk like that to girls. You ought to wait till they do fall in love with you.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Yes, much I'll get from you by waiting! [_Dances_

"Who does not love a hussar!"

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [_Looking at_ MÍTYA] It may be somebody loves somebody and won't tell! He must guess himself.

LÍZA. How can any girl in the world say that!

MÁSHA. I know it!

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. [_Goes up to them and looks now at_ LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA _and now at_ MÍTYA _and sings_:

"Already it is seen
If somebody loves somebody--
Opposite the beloved one she seats herself
Heavily sighing."

MÍTYA. Who does that apply to?

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. We know to whom.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Stay, girls, I'll sing you a song.

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Sing, sing!

RAZLYULYÁYEV. [_Sings slowly_]

"A bear was flying through the sky."

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Don't you know anything worse than that!

LÍZA. We might think you were making fun of us.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. If this isn't good enough I'll sing you another, for I'm a jolly fellow. [_Sings_.

"Beat! Beat! upon the board.
Moscow! Moscow! that's the word.
Moscow's got it in his head
That Kolomna he will wed.
Tula laughs with all his heart.
But with the dowry will not part.
Buckwheat is tuppence. It's twenty for oats.
Millet is sixpence and barley three groats.
[_Turns towards the girls_.
If only oats would but come down!
It's costly carting 'em to town."

See! What weather!

MÁSHA. This doesn't concern us.

LÍZA. We don't trade in flour.

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. What are you interrupting for! Just guess this riddle. What's this: round--but not a girl; with a tail--but not a mouse?[1]

[Footnote 1: A turnip.]

RAZLYULYÁYEV. That's a hard one!

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Indeed it is!--You just think it over! Now, girls, come along! [_The girls rise and get ready to go_] Come along, boys!

GÚSLIN _and_ RAZLYULYÁYEV _get ready_.

MÍTYA. But I'll come later. I'll put things to rights here first.

ANNA IVÁNOVNA. [_Sings while they are getting ready_]

"Our maids last night,
Our pretties last night,
They brewed us a brew of the beer last night.
And there came to our maids,
And there came to our pretties
A guest, a guest whom they didn't invite."

ANNA IVÁNOVNA _lets them all pass through the door, except_ LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA; _she shuts the door and does not allow her to pass_.

SCENE X

MÍTYA _and_ LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [_At the door_] Stop, don't be silly! [_Through the door the girls are heard laughing_] They won't let me out! Oh, what girls! [_Walks away from the door_] They're always up to something.

MÍTYA. [_Hands her a chair_] Be seated, Lyubóv Gordéyevna, and talk to me for just a moment. I'm very glad to see you in my room.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Why are you glad? I don't understand.

MÍTYA. Oh, why!--It is very pleasant for me to see on your side such consideration; it is above my deserts to receive it from you. This is the second time I have had the good fortune--

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. There's nothing in that! I came here, sat awhile, and went away again. That means nothing. Maybe I'll go away again at once.

MÍTYA. Oh, no! Don't go!--Why should you! [_Takes the paper out of his pocket_] Permit me to present to you my work, the best I can do--from my heart.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. What is this?

MÍTYA. I made these verses just for you.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [_Trying to hide her joy_] Still, it may be just some sort of foolishness--not worth reading.

MÍTYA. That I cannot judge, because I wrote it myself, and without studying besides.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Read it.

MÍTYA. Directly.

_Seats himself at the table, and takes the paper_: LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA _approaches very near to him_.

"In the meadow no grasses wither,
And never a flower doth fade;
However a fair lad fadeth
That once was a lusty blade.

He loved a handsome damsel;
For that his grief is great,
And heavy his misfortune,
For she came of high estate.

The lad's heart is breaking,
But vain his grief must be,
Because he loved a damsel
Above his own degree.

When all the night is darkened
The sun may not appear;
And so the pretty maiden.
She may not be his dear."

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [_Sitting and reflecting for some time_] Give it here. [_Takes the paper and hides it, then rises_] Now I will write something for you.

MÍTYA. You!

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Only I don't know how to do it in verse, but--just plain Russian.

MÍTYA. I shall regard such a kindness from you as a great happiness to myself. [_Gives her paper and pen_] Here they are.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. It's a great pity that I write so abominably. [_She writes_; MÍTYA _tries to look_] Only don't you look, or I'll stop writing and tear it up.

MÍTYA. I won't look. But kindly condescend to permit me to reply, in so far as I am able, and to write some verses for you on a second occasion.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [_Laying down the pen_] Write if you wish--only I've inked all my fingers; if I'd only known, I'd better not have written.

MÍTYA. May I have it?

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Well, take it; only don't dare to read it while I'm here, but after, when I've gone.

_Folds together the paper and gives it to him; he conceals it in his pocket_.

MÍTYA. It shall be as you wish.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [_Rises_] Will you come up-stairs to us?

MÍTYA. I will--this minute.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Good-by.

MÍTYA. To our pleasant meeting!

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA _goes to the door; from the doorway_ LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH _comes in_.

SCENE XI

_The same and_ LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Ah!

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. [_Looking at_ LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA] Wait! What sort of a creature is this? On what pretext? On what business? We must consider this matter.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Is it you, uncle!

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Oh, it's I, niece! What? You got a fright? Clear out, never mind! I'm not the man to tell tales. I'll put it in a box, and think it over after, all in my spare time.

LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Good-by. [_Goes out_.

SCENE XII

MÍTYA _and_ LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Mítya, receive unto thyself Lyubím Kárpych TORTSÓV, the brother of a wealthy merchant.

MÍTYA. You are welcome.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. [_Sits down_] My brother turned me out! And in the street, in a coat like this--one has to dance about a bit! The frost--at Christmas time--brrr!--My hands are frozen, and my feet nipped--brrr!

MÍTYA. Warm yourself up, Lyubím Kárpych.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. You will not drive me away, Mítya? If you do, I'll freeze in the yard--I'll freeze like a dog.

MÍTYA. How could I? What are you saying?

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. You see, Mítya, my brother turned me out. As long as I had a little money, I strolled about in warm places; now I have no money, and they won't let me come in anywhere. All I had was two francs and some-odd centimes! Not a great capital! It wouldn't build a stone house! It wouldn't buy a village! What could one do with such a capital? Where put it? Not take it to a bank! So then I took this capital and drank it up!--squandered it!--That's the way of it!

MÍTYA. Why do you drink, Lyubím Kárpych? That makes you your own enemy.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Why do I drink? From stupidity! Yes, from my own stupidity. Why did you think I drank?

MÍTYA. You'd better stop it.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. It's impossible to stop; I've got started on this track.

MÍTYA. What track?

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Ah, well, listen--you're a kind soul--what this track was. Only, you listen, take note of it. I was left when my father died, just a kid, tall as a bean pole, a little fool of twenty. The wind whistled through my head like an empty garret! My brother and I divided up things: he took the factory himself, and gave me my share in money, drafts and promissory notes. Well, now, how he divided with me is not our business--God be his judge! Well, then I went to Moscow to get money on the drafts. I had to go! One must see people and show oneself, and learn good manners. Then again, I was such a handsome young man, and I'd never seen the world, or spent the night in a private house. I felt I must try everything! First thing, I got myself dressed like a dandy. "Know our people!" says I. That is, I played the fool to a rarity! Of course, I started to visit all the taverns: "_Schpeelen sie polka_! Give us a bottle off the ice!" I got together enough friends to fill a pond! I went to the theatres--

MÍTYA. Well, Lyubím Kárpych, it must be very nice in the theatre.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. I kept going to see the tragedies; I liked them very much, only I didn't see anything decently, and I didn't understand anything because I was nearly always drunk. [_Rises_] "Drink beneath the dagger of Prokóp Lyapunóv." [_Sits down_] By this sort of life I soon squandered all my money; what was left I intrusted to my friend Afrikán Kórshunov, on his oath and word of honor; with him I had drunk and gone on sprees, he was responsible for all my folly, he was the chief mixer of the mash! He fooled me and showed me up, and I was stuck like a crab on a sand bank. I had nothing to drink, and I was thirsty--what was to be done? Where could I go to drown my misery? I sold my clothes, all my fashionable things; got pay in bank-notes, and changed them for silver, the silver for copper, and then everything went and all was over.

MÍTYA. How did you live, Lyubím Kárpych?

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. How did I live? May God never give such a life to a Tatar! I lived in roomy lodgings, between heaven and earth, with no walls and no ceiling. I was ashamed to see people. I hid from the world; and yet you have to go out into God's world, for you have nothing to eat. You go along the street, and everybody looks at you.--Every one had seen what a life I used to lead, how I rattled through the town in a first-class cab, and now went about tattered and torn and unshaven. They shook their heads and away they went. Shame, shame, shame! [_Sits and hangs his head_] There is a good business--a trade which pays--to steal. But this business didn't suit me--I had a conscience, and again I was afraid: no one approves of this business.

MÍTYA. That's a last resort.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. They say in other countries they pay you thalers and thalers for this, but in our country good people punch your head for it. No, my boy, to steal is abominable! That's an old trick, we'll have to give it up! But, you see, hunger isn't a kind old aunty, and you have to do something! I began to go about the town as a buffoon, to get money, a kopek at a time, to make a fool of myself, to tell funny stories, and play all sorts of tricks. Often you shiver from early morn till night in the town streets; you hide somewhere behind the corner away from people, and wait for merchants. When one comes--especially if he is rather rich--you jump out and do some trick, and one gives you five kopeks, and another ten: with that you take breath for a day and so exist.

MÍTYA. It would have been better, Lyubím Kárpych, to go to your brother, than to live like that.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. It was impossible; I'd been drawn in. Oh, Mítya, you get into this groove, and it isn't easy to get out again. Don't interrupt! You'll have a chance later. Well, then, listen! I caught cold in the town--it was winter; I stood in the cold, smartly dressed, in this coat! I was blowing on my fingers and jumping from foot to foot. Good people carried me to the hospital. When I began to get better and come to my senses, my drunken spell was over. Dread came over me! Horror seized me! How had I lived? What had I done? I began to feel melancholy; yes, such melancholy that it seemed better to die. And so I decided that when I got quite well, I would go on a pilgrimage, then go to my brother, and let him take me as a porter. This I did. I threw myself plump at his feet! "Be a father to me!" says I, "I have lived abominably--now I wish to reform." And do you know how my brother received me! He was ashamed, you see, that he had such a brother. "But you help me out," I said to him, "correct me, be kind to me, and I will be a man." "Not at all," says he, "where can I put you when important guests, rich merchants, and gentry come to see me? You'll be the death of me," says he! "With my feelings and intellect," says he, "I ought not to have been born in this family at all. See how I live," says he; "who'd ever guess that our father was a peasant! For me," says he, "this disgrace is enough, and then you must come and obtrude yourself again." He overwhelmed me as with thunder! After these words I went from bad to worse. "Oh, well," I thought, "deuce take him! He is very thick here. [_Points to his forehead_] He needs a lesson, the fool. Riches are no use to fools like us; they spoil us. You need to know how to manage money." [_Dozes off_] Mítya, I'll lie down here; I want to take a nap.

MÍTYA. Do lie down, Lyubím Kárpych.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Mítya, don't give me any money--that is, don't give me much; just give me a little. I'll take a nap here, and then go and warm myself a little, you understand! I only need a little--no, no! Don't be foolish!

MÍTYA. [_Taking out money_] Here, take as much as you need.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. I need ten kopeks. This is all silver; I don't need silver. Give me two kopeks more, that will be just right. [MÍTYA _gives them_] That's enough. You have a good heart, Mítya! [_Lies down_] My brother doesn't know how to appreciate you. Yes, I'll play a joke on him! For fools riches are an evil! Give money to a sensible man, and he'll do something with it. I walked about Moscow, I saw everything, everything!--I've been through a long course of study! You'd better not give money to a fool; he'll only go smash! Foh, foh, foh, brr! just like brother and like me, the brute! [_In a voice half asleep_] Mítya, I will come and spend the night with you.

MÍTYA. Come on. The office is empty now--it's a holiday.

LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Oh, but I'll play a funny joke on brother. [_Falls asleep_.

MÍTYA. [_Walks towards the door and takes the letter out of his pocket_] What can she have written? I'm frightened!--My hands tremble!--Well, what is to be will be! I'll read it. [_Reads_] "And I love you. Lyubóv Tortsóv." [_Clutches his head and runs out_.