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Plays by Aleksandr Nikolaevich Ostrovsky Part 67

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PODKHALYuZIN. Daddy, why do you favor me? I'm not worth it. I'm not worth it! My poor face would positively crack a mirror.

BOLSHoV. What of your face! Here, I transfer all the property to you; so that afterwards the creditors will be sorry that they didn't take twenty-five kopeks on the ruble.

PODKHALYuZIN. You can bet they'll be sorry, sir!

BOLSHoV. Well, you get off to town now, and after a while come back to the girl; we'll play a little joke on 'em.

PODKHALYuZIN. Very good, daddy, sir! [_They go out._

ACT III

_Setting as in ACT I_

SCENE I

_BOLSHoV comes in and sits down in the armchair; for some time he looks into the corners and yawns._

BOLSHoV. Here's the life; it's well said: vanity of vanities, and all is vanity. The devil knows, I myself can't make out what I want. If I were to take a snack of something, I'd spoil my dinner, and if I sit still I'll go crazy. Perhaps I might kill a little time drinking tea. [_Silence_] Here's all there is to it; a man lives, and lives, and all at once he dies and he turns to dust. Oh, Lord, oh, Lord!

[_He yawns and looks into the corners._

SCENE II

_AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA comes in with LiPOCHKA, who is very much dressed up._

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. Get along, get along, my darling; don't catch yourself on the sides of the doorway. Just look, Samson Silych, my dear lord and master, and admire how I've rigged up our daughter! Phew! go away! What a peony-rose she is now! [_To her_] Ah, you little angel, you princess, you little cherub, you! [_To him_] Well, Samson Silych, isn't it all right? Only she ought to ride in a six-horse carriage.

BOLSHoV. She'll go in a two-horse carriage--she's no highflying proprietress.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. To be sure, she's no general's daughter, but, all the same, she's a beauty! Well, pet the child a little; what are you growling like a bear for?

BOLSHoV. Well, how do you want me to pet her? Shall I lick her hands, or bow down to her feet? Fine circus, I must say! I've seen something more elegant than that.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. But what have you seen? No matter what; but this is your daughter, your own child, you man of stone!

BOLSHoV. What if she is my daughter? Thank G.o.d she has shoes, dresses, and is well fed--what more does she want?

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. What more! Look here, Samson Silych, have you gone out of your head? Well fed! What if she is well fed! According to the Christian law we should feed everybody; people look after strangers, to say nothing of their own folks. Why, it's a sin to say that, when people can hear you. Anyhow, she's your own child!

BOLSHoV. I know she's my own child--but what more does she want? What are you telling me all these yarns for? You don't have to put her in a picture-frame! I know I'm her father.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. Then, my dear, if you're her father, then don't act like a stepfather! It's high time, it seems to me, that you came to your senses. You'll soon have to part with her, and you don't grind out one kind word; you ought, for her good, to give her a bit of good advice. You haven't a single fatherly way about you!

BOLSHoV. No, and what a pity; must be G.o.d made me that way.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. G.o.d made you that way! What's the matter with you?

It seems to me G.o.d made her, too, didn't he? She's not an animal, Lord forgive me for speaking so!--but ask her something!

BOLSHoV. What shall I ask her? A goose is no playmate for a pig; do what you please.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. We won't ask you when it comes to the point; meantime, say something. A man, a total stranger, is coming--no matter how much you try, a man is not a woman--he's coming for his first visit, when we've never seen him before.

BOLSHoV. I said, stop it!

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. What a father you are! And yet you call yourself one! Ah, my poor abandoned little girl, you're just like a little orphan with drooping head! He turns away from you, and won't recognize you! Sit down, Lipochka; sit down, little soul, my charming little darling! [_She makes her sit down._

LiPOCHKA. Oh, stop it, mamma! You've mussed me all up!

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. All right, then, I'll look at you from a distance.

LiPOCHKA. Look if you want to, only don't rave! Fudge, mamma, one can't dress up properly without your going off into a sentimental fit.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. So, so, my dear! But when I look at you, it seems such a pity.

LiPOCHKA. Why so? It had to come some time.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. All the same, it's a pity, you little fool. We've been raising you all these years, and you've grown up--but now for no reason at all we're giving you over to strangers, as if we were tired of you, and as if you bored us by your foolish childishness, and by your sweet behavior. Here, we'll pack you out of the house, like an enemy from the town; then we'll come to, and look around, and you'll be gone forever.

Consider, good people, what it'll be like, living in some strange, far-away place, choking on another's bread, and wiping away your tears with your fist! Yes, good G.o.d, she's marrying beneath her; some blockhead will be b.u.t.ting in--a blockhead, the son of a blockhead! [_She weeps._

LiPOCHKA. There you go, crying! Honestly, aren't you ashamed, mamma? What do you mean by blockhead?

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. [_Weeping_] The words came out of themselves. I couldn't help it.

BOLSHoV. What made you start this bawling? If anybody asks you, you don't know yourself.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. I don't know, my dear, I don't know; the fit just came over me.

BOLSHoV. That's it, just foolishness. Tears come cheap with you.

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. Yes, my dear, they do! They do! I know myself that they come cheap; but how can you help it?

LiPOCHKA. Fudge, mamma, how you act! Stop it! Now, he'll come any moment--what's the use?

AGRAFeNA KONDRaTYEVNA. I'll stop, child, I'll stop; I'll stop right off!

SCENE III

_The same, and USTiNYA NAuMOVNA_

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Plays by Aleksandr Nikolaevich Ostrovsky Part 67 summary

You're reading Plays by Aleksandr Nikolaevich Ostrovsky. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Aleksandr Nikolaevich Ostrovsky. Already has 578 views.

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