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!

MaSHA. This doesn't concern us.

LiZA. We don't trade in flour.

ANNA IVaNOVNA. 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.]

RAZLYULYaYEV. That's a hard one!

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

GuSLIN _and_ RAZLYULYaYEV _get ready_.

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

ANNA IVaNOVNA. [_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 IVaNOVNA _lets them all pa.s.s through the door, except_ LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA; _she shuts the door and does not allow her to pa.s.s_.

SCENE X

MiTYA _and_ LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA

LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA. [_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.

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

LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA. Why are you glad? I don't understand.

MiTYA. 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--

LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA. 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.

MiTYA. 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.

LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA. What is this?

MiTYA. I made these verses just for you.

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

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

LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA. Read it.

MiTYA. Directly.

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

"In the meadow no gra.s.ses wither, And never a flower doth fade; However a fair lad fadeth That once was a l.u.s.ty 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."

LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA. [_Sitting and reflecting for some time_] Give it here.

[_Takes the paper and hides it, then rises_] Now I will write something for you.

MiTYA. You!

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

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

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

MiTYA. 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.

LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA. [_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.

MiTYA. May I have it?

LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA. 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_.

MiTYA. It shall be as you wish.

LYUBoV GORDeYEVNA. [_Rises_] Will you come up-stairs to us?