[_Takes_ BABaYEV _by the hand_] Well, my darling! Well, my precious!

BABaYEV. It seems to me that you have changed, Tatyana Danilovna.

TATYaNA. I, changed! Honestly I haven't. Not a bit. Why are you so cruel to me?

BABaYEV. Do you remember Zavetnoye, Tatyana Danilovna?

TATYaNA. Why? I remember it all.

BABaYEV. Do you remember the garden? Do you remember the linden walk? Do you remember how, after supper, while mother slept, we used to sit on the terrace? Do you recall the narrow ribbon?

TATYaNA. [_In a low voice_] Which one?

BABaYEV. With which you tied my hands.

TATYaNA. [_Embarra.s.sed_] Well, what of that? Yes, I remember absolutely everything.

BABaYEV. Just that you, my precious, are now entirely different; you have met me so coldly.

TATYaNA. Ah, Valentin Pavlich! Then I was a girl and could love any one I wished; now I am married. Just think!

BABaYEV. Why, certainly. Yet I can't imagine you belonging to any one else.

Do what you will, I can hardly control my desire to call you Tanya, as I used to.

TATYaNA. Why control yourself? Call me Tanya.

BABaYEV. But what's the use, my dear! You don't love me any more!

TATYaNA. Who told you that? I love you as much, even more than before.

BABaYEV. [_Bending towards her_] Is it possible, Tanechka, that that is the truth?

TATYaNA. [_Kissing him_] Well, here's my evidence! _Now_ do you believe?

But, darling Valentin Pavlich, if you don't wish me unhappiness for the rest of my life, we must love one another as we are doing now; but you mustn't think of more than that. Otherwise, good-by to you--away from temptation!

BABaYEV. Set your mind at rest, darling, about that.

TATYaNA. No, you swear to me! Swear, so that I may not fear you.

BABaYEV. How foolish you are!

TATYaNA. Yes, I am foolish, certainly. If I should listen to the opinions of older people, then I am committing a great wrong. According to the old law, I must love no one other than my husband. But since I can't love him--and loved you before my marriage, and can't change my heart, so I--only G.o.d preserve you from--and I won't in any respect--because I wish to live right.

BABaYEV. Calm yourself.

TATYaNA. That's the way, my dear Valentin Pavlich. It means that we shall now have a very pleasant love-affair, without sinning against G.o.d, or feeling shame before men.

BABaYEV. Yes, yes, that'll be splendid!

TATYaNA. Now I'll give you a kiss because you're so clever! [_Kisses him_]

So you will come to-morrow evening?

BABaYEV. And then you'll visit me?

TATYaNA. Be sure to come! Then we'll visit you. Now I'm not afraid of you.

BABaYEV. How beautiful you are! You're even lovelier than you used to be.

TATYaNA. Let that be a secret. Good-by. Come on, Lusha!

LUKeRYA. [_Approaching_] Good-by! Good night, pleasant dreams--of plucking roses, of watering jasmine! [_Going_] But what a man you are! Oh, oh, oh!

He's clever, I must say! I just looked and wondered. [_They go out_.

BABaYEV. Now the novel is beginning; I wonder how it'll end!

ACT II

TABLEAU I

_A room in_ KRASNoV'_s house; directly in front a door leading to a vestibule; to the right a window and a bed with chintz curtains; to the left a stove-couch and a door into the kitchen; in the foreground a plain board table and several chairs; along the back wall and window benches; along the left wall a cupboard with cups, a small mirror, and a wall clock_.

SCENE I

TATYaNA _stands before the mirror putting on a kerchief_; AFoNYA _is lying on the stove-couch_; LUKeRYA _comes in with a figured table-cloth_.

LUKeRYA. There, Tanya, I've borrowed a cloth from the neighbor to cover our table. Ours is awfully poor. [_Lays the cloth on the table_.

TATYaNA. Have you started the samovar?

LUKeRYA. Long ago; it'll boil soon. Well, you see it's just as I told you; that kerchief is much more becoming to you. But why did you stick the pin through it? [_Adjusting it_] There, that's much better.

AFoNYA. Where are you dressing up to go to? Why are you prinking so at that mirror?

TATYaNA. Nowhere; we're going to stay at home.

LUKeRYA. What business is it of yours? Do you think we ought to be as slovenly as yourself?

AFoNYA. But who are you fixing up for? For your husband? He loves you more than you deserve even without the fine clothes. Or is it for some one else?

LUKeRYA. Hear him! A fool, a fool! yet he understands that she's dressing up for some one else.

TATYaNA. Why should I dress for my husband? He knows me anyway. When I dress, of course it's for a stranger.