KRASNOV.  It isn’t the kind of affair, grandfather, that needs advice!  You can’t tell me anything.

ARKHIP.  You’re foolish, foolish!  How do you know?  Are you wiser than the rest of us?

KRASNOV.  Please stop.  I can’t discuss with you.  What do you want? Strikes the spoon against the bowl angrily.  LUKERYA enters, places a bowl of mush on the table, and goes out.

ARKHIP.  Your wife is wiser than you, really wiser.

KRASNOV.  If she were wise she’d obey her husband.

ARKHIP.  Not necessarily!  One can’t be on one’s guard every minute!  Don’t you hold anger for every little thing.  One wrong—­is no wrong; and two wrongs—­a half wrong; it takes three wrongs to make a whole wrong.

KRASNOV.  What wrongs!  All wrongs aren’t the same.  For some wrongs strangling would be mild.

ARKHIP.  What makes you so fierce?  Nowadays, they don’t hang a man even for highway robbery.

KRASNOV.  I can’t even eat my food.

ARKHIP.  You have a terrible temper!  I began to talk about your wife; that wasn’t just for the sake of saying something.  She came to her senses before you did. [KRASNOV listens] “Grandfather Arkhip,” says she, “put in a word for me to my husband!  I love him,” says she, “but I’m afraid of his temper.  He seems to think me bad without any reason.  I wouldn’t exchange him for any one,” says she.  “I’d try to please him in every way, just so he forgives me and doesn’t get angry.”

KRASNOV.  Is that true?

ARKHIP.  Have you gone absolutely crazy?  Do you think I’d turn liar in my old age?  She’d have told you herself; she wants to bow down to you but, you see, she’s ashamed, and then she’s afraid.

KRASNOV. [Rising] Grandfather Arkhip, understand me!  You know how I love her, there’s no need telling!  Until this happened, we lived together very comfortably; you all saw how I simply doted on her.  Now that this gentleman has come I see that he talks in too free and easy a way with her; and that made me angry.  Would you believe me, I didn’t know what I was doing or saying.  When she went to him, I waited half an hour—­she didn’t return; I waited an hour—­she didn’t return; I became furious; my very teeth began to chatter.  Here I was imagining all sorts of things!  Maybe I’m doing her wrong, am unjust to her; maybe she meant nothing; but what was there to do?  I’m consumed with a fire, absolutely consumed, I wronged her, I admit; but was it easy for me?  If you’d told me that she’d just died—­I don’t know what I’d do with myself, but it would be easier; then no one could take her from me. [Weeps] Some want money or reputation, but I need nothing except her love.  Give me the choice:  Here, Krasnov, you can have gold-mines and royal castles, if you’ll only give up your wife; or here, you can have a roofless mud hut, all sorts of hard work, but you may live with your wife.  I won’t