Plays by Aleksandr Nikolaevich Ostrovsky Part 57

USTiNYA NAuMOVNA. [_Entering_] Ouf, fa, fa! Why do you have such a steep staircase, my jewels? You climb, and climb, and much as ever you get there!

LiPOCHKA. Oh, here she is! How are you, Ustinya Naumovna?

USTiNYA NAuMOVNA. Don't get in a hurry! There's people older than you.

I want to chatter with your mamma a bit first. [_Exchanges kisses with_ AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA] How are you, Agrafena Kondratyevna? How did you feel when you got up? How did you pa.s.s the night? All alive, my precious?

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. Thank the Lord! I'm alive, able to chew; I've been joking with my daughter all the morning.

USTiNYA NAuMOVNA. All about dresses, I suppose. [_Exchanging kisses with_ LiPOCHKA] Well, your turn has come. What's this! It seems as if you had grown stouter, my jewel! Lord bless you! What could be better than to blossom out in beauty!

FOMiNISHNA. Shame on you, temptress! You'll give us bad luck yet!

LiPOCHKA. Oh, what nonsense! It just looks that way to you, Ustinya Naumovna. I keep getting punier; first it's stomachache, then palpitation of the heart--just like the beating of a pendulum. Now I have a sinking feeling, or feel kind of seasick, and things swim before my eyes.

USTiNYA NAuMOVNA. [_To_ FOMiNISHNA] Come on, you dear soul, let's have a kiss now. To be sure, we've already exchanged greetings in the yard, my jewel, so we don't need to rub lips again.

FOMiNISHNA. Just as you wish. Of course I'm no lady of a household. I don't amount to much; all the same I have a soul in me, and not just vapor!

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. [_Sitting down_] Sit down, sit down, Ustinya Naumovna! Why do you stand up as stiff as a bean-pole? Fominishna, go tell them to heat up the samovar.

USTiNYA NAuMOVNA. I've had my tea, I've had it, my jewel; may I perish on the spot if I haven't; and I've just dropped in for a moment.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. What are you loafing about for, Fominishna? Run off a little more nimbly, granny.

LiPOCHKA. Let me, mamma, I'll go quicker; look how clumsy she is!

FOMiNISHNA. Don't you meddle where you aren't asked! For my part, my dear Agrafena Kondratyevna, this is what I think: wouldn't it be nicer to serve cordial and some herring?

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. Cordial's all right, and the samovar's all right. Or are you stingy with other people's stuff? Well, when it's ready, have it brought here.

FOMiNISHNA. Certainly! All right! [_She goes out_.

SCENE V

_The same, without_ FOMiNISHNA

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. Well, haven't you any news, Ustinya Naumovna? This girl of mine is simply grieved to death.

LiPOCHKA. And really, Ustinya Naumovna, you keep coming, and coming, and no good comes of it.

USTiNYA NAuMOVNA. But one can't fix things up quickly with you, my jewels.

Your daddy has his eye peeled for a rich fellow; he tells me he'll be satisfied with any bell-boy provided he has money and asks a small enough settlement. And your mamma also, Agrafena Kondratyevna, is always wanting her own taste suited; you must be sure to give her a merchant, with a decoration, who keeps horses, and who crosses himself in the old way[1].

You also have your own notions. How's a person going to please you all?

SCENE VI

_The same and_ FOMiNISHNA, _who enters and places vodka and relishes on the table_.

LiPOCHKA. I won't marry a merchant, not for anything. I won't! As if I was brought up for that, and learned French[1], and to play the piano, and to dance! No, no; get him wherever you want to, but get me an aristocrat.

[Footnote 1: Evidently, Bolshov and his family, like many other wealthy Moscow merchants, belonged to the sect of the Old Believers, one of whose dearest tenets is that the sign of the cross should be made with two fingers instead of with three.]

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. Here, you talk with her.

FOMiNISHNA. What put aristocrats into your head? What's the special relish in them? They don't even grow beards like Christians; they don't go to the public baths, and don't make pasties on holidays. But, you see, even if you're married, you'll get sick of nothing but sauce and gravy.

LiPOCHKA. Fominishna, you were born a peasant, and you'll turn up your toes a peasant. What's your merchant to me? What use would he be? Has he any ambition to rise in the world? What do I want of his mop?

FOMiNISHNA. Not a mop, but the hair that G.o.d gave him, miss, that's it.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. See what a rough old codger your dad is; he doesn't trim his beard; yet, somehow, you manage to kiss him.

LiPOCHKA. Dad is one thing, but my husband is another. But why do you insist, mamma? I have already said that I won't marry a merchant, and I won't! I'd rather die first; I'll cry to the end of my life; if tears give out, I'll swallow pepper.

FOMiNISHNA. Are you getting ready to bawl? Don't you think of it!--What fun do you get out of teasing her, Agrafena Kondratyevna?

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. Who's teasing her? She's mighty touchy.

USTiNYA NAuMOVNA. Well, well, if you've got your mind set on a n.o.bleman, we'll find you one. What sort do you want; rather stout, or rather lean?

LiPOCHKA. Doesn't matter, it's all right if he's rather stout, so long as he's no shorty. Of course he'd better be tall than an insignificant little runt! And most of all, Ustinya Naumovna, he mustn't be snub-nosed, and he absolutely must be dark-complexioned. It's understood, of course, that he must be dressed like the men in the magazines. [_She glances at the mirror_] Oh, Lord, my hair looks like a feather-duster to-day!

USTiNYA NAuMOVNA. Now, my jewel, I have a husband for you of the very sort you describe: aristocratic, tall, and brown-complected.

LiPOCHKA. Oh, Ustinya Naumovna! Not brown-complected, but dark-complexioned!

USTiNYA NAuMOVNA. Yes, much I need, in my old age, to split my tongue talking your lingo. What I said, goes. He has peasants, and wears a norder about his neck. Now you go get dressed, and your mamma and I will talk this thing over.

LiPOCHKA. Oh, my dear, sweet Ustinya Naumovna, come up to my room a bit later; I must talk with you. Let's go, Fominishna.

FOMiNISHNA. Ha, what a fidgety child you are!

[_They go out._

SCENE VII

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA _and_ USTiNYA NAuMOVNA