Fruits of Culture Part 8

GREGORY. One is our young lady, the other is a girl who teaches her music.

FIRST PEASANT. Administrates learning, so to say. And ain't she smart? A reg'lar picture!

SECOND PEASANT. Why don't they marry her? She is old enough, I should say.

GREGORY. Do you think it's the same as among you peasants,--marry at fifteen?

FIRST PEASANT. And that man, for example, is he also in the musitional line?

GREGORY [mimicking him] "Musitional" indeed! You don't understand anything!

FIRST PEASANT. That's just so. And stupidity, one might say, is our ignorance.

THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord! [Gipsy songs and guitar accompaniment are heard from Vasily Leoniditch's room].

Enter Simon, followed by Tanya, who watches the meeting between father and son.

GREGORY [to Simon] What do you want?

SIMON. I have been to Mr. Kaptchitch.

GREGORY. Well, and what's the answer?

SIMON. He sent word he couldn't possibly come to-night.

GREGORY. All right, I'll let them know. [Exit].

SIMON [to his father] How d'you do, father! My respects to Daddy Efim and Daddy Mitry! How are all at home?

SECOND PEASANT. Very well, Simon.

FIRST PEASANT. How d'you do, lad?

THIRD PEASANT. How d'you do, sonny?

SIMON [smiles] Well, come along, father, and have some tea.

SECOND PEASANT. Wait till we've finished our business. Don't you see we are not ready yet?

SIMON. Well, I'll wait for you by the porch. [Wishes to go away].

TaNYA [running after him] I say, why didn't you tell him anything?

SIMON. How could I before all those people? Give me time, I'll tell him over our tea. [Exit].

Theodore Ivanitch enters and sits down by the window.

FIRST PEASANT. Respected sir, how's our business proceeding?

THEODORE IVaNITCH. Wait a bit, he'll be out presently, he's just finis.h.i.+ng.

TaNYA [to Theodore Ivanitch] And how do you know, Theodore Ivanitch, he is finis.h.i.+ng?

THEODORE IVaNITCH. I know that when he has finished questioning, he reads the question and answer aloud.

TaNYA. Can one really talk with spirits by means of a saucer?

THEODORE IVaNITCH. It seems so.

TaNYA. But supposing they tell him to sign, will he sign?

THEODORE IVaNITCH. Of course he will.

TaNYA. But they do not speak with words?

THEODORE IVaNITCH. Oh, yes. By means of the alphabet. He notices at which letter the saucer stops.

TaNYA. Yes, but at a si-ance?...

Enter Leonid Fyodoritch.

LEONiD FYoDORITCH. Well, friends, I can't do it! I should be very glad to, but it is quite impossible. If it were for ready money it would be a different matter.

FIRST PEASANT. That's just so. What more could any one desire? But the people are so inpennycuous--it is quite impossible!

LEONiD FYoDORITCH. Well, I can't do it, I really can't. Here is your doc.u.ment; I can't sign it.

THIRD PEASANT. Show some pity, master; be merciful!

SECOND PEASANT. How can you act so? It is doing us a wrong.

LEONiD FYoDORITCH. Nothing wrong about it, friends. I offered it you in summer, but then you did not agree; and now I can't agree to it.

THIRD PEASANT. Master, be merciful! How are we to get along? We have so little land. We'll say nothing about the cattle; a hen, let's say, there's no room to let a hen run about.

Leonid Fyodoritch goes up to the door and stops. Enter, descending the staircase, Anna Pavlovna and doctor, followed by Vasily Leoniditch, who is in a merry and playful mood and is putting some bank-notes into his purse.

ANNA PaVLOVNA [tightly laced, and wearing a bonnet] Then I am to take it?

DOCTOR. If the symptoms recur you must certainly take it, but above all, you must behave better. How can you expect thick syrup to pa.s.s through a thin little hair tube, especially when we squeeze the tube? It's impossible; and so it is with the biliary duct. It's simple enough.

ANNA PaVLOVNA. All right, all right!

DOCTOR. Yes, "All right, all right," and you go on in the same old way.

It won't do, madam--it won't do. Well, good-bye!

ANNA PaVLOVNA. No, not good-bye, only _au revoir_! For I still expect you to-night. I shall not be able to make up my mind without you.