SCENE VII

USTINYA NAUMOVNA and PODKHALYUZIN

PODKHALYUZIN.  Ah!  Ustinya Naumovna!  It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, ma’am.

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  How are you, dear soul!  How’ve you been?

PODKHALYUZIN.  Oh, able to be around, ma’am.

[He sits down.

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  I’ll capture a little mamzelle for you if you want me to. 
PODKHALYUZIN.  Thank you kindly—­I don’t need one yet.

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  If you don’t want one yourself, my jewel, I’ll do a good turn for your friends.  I suppose you have friends around town, a whole pack.

PODKHALYUZIN.  I have quite a few, ma’am.

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  Well, if you have, thank the Lord!  If you know of a marriageable man, whether he’s a bachelor, unmarried, or a widower—­drag him straight to me.

PODKHALYUZIN.  Will you find him a wife?

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  I will.  Why shouldn’t I find him a wife?  I’ll do it in a jiffy.

PODKHALYUZIN.  That’s very fine, ma’am, But now I ask you, Ustinya Naumovna, why do you come here to us so confoundedly often?

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  What’s that to you?  Why shouldn’t I come?  I’m no thief, no sheep without a name.  What do you mean by that question?

PODKHALYUZIN.  But, really, aren’t you wasting your time coming?

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  Wasting my time?  Where did you get that idea, my jewel?  Just see here, what sort of a husband I’ve found:  an aristocrat, has peasants, and a fine young man.

PODKHALYUZIN.  Why has the thing come to a halt, ma’am?

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  It hasn’t come to a halt!  He wanted to come to-morrow to get acquainted.  So we’ll hitch him up, and it’ll all be over.

PODKHALYUZIN.  Hitch him up, try it—­he’ll give you the slip.

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  What’s the matter, are you in your right mind, my jewel?

PODKHALYUZIN.  You’ll see!

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  May I die before to-night, but you’re either drunk, my jewel, or you’ve wandered clean out of your head.

PODKHALYUZIN.  Be so good as not to trouble yourself about that; you look out for yourself; but I know what I know.

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  Well, what do you know?

PODKHALYUZIN.  No matter what I know, ma’am.

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  If you know something, tell me what it is:  I suppose your tongue won’t fall off.

PODKHALYUZIN.  That’s the point of the thing—­that I can’t tell it.

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  Why can’t you?  Why do you hesitate to tell me, my jewel? 
Go ahead, talk—­it doesn’t matter what it is.

PODKHALYUZIN.  It’s not a matter of conscience.  But if I tell you, of course you’ll go and blab!

USTINYA NAUMOVNA.  Curst if I do!  You may chop off my hand!

PODKHALYUZIN.  That’s it, ma’am; a promise is better than money.