GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Send it to your mother! You ought to educate yourself first; God knows what your mother needs! She wasn't brought up in luxury; most likely she used to look after the cows herself.
MÍTYA. It's better that I should suffer than that my mother should be in any want at all.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. This is simply disgusting! If you don't know yourself how to observe decency, then sit in your hovel! If you haven't anything to wear, then don't have any fancies! You write verses, you wish to educate yourself—and you go about looking like a factory hand! Does education consist in this, in singing idiotic songs? You idiot! [Through his teeth and looking askance at MÍTYA] Fool! [Is silent] Don't you dare to show yourself in that suit up-stairs. Listen, I tell you! [To RAZLYULYÁYEV] And you too! Your father, to all appearances, rakes up money with a shovel, and you go about in this Russian smock.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. What do you say! It's new—French goods—I ordered it from Moscow—from an acquaintance—twenty rubles a yard! Do you think I ought to go about in a bob-tailed coat, like Franz Fédorych at the apothecary's! Why, they all tease him there!—the deuce of a coat! What's the use of making people laugh! GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Much you know! It's hopeless to expect anything of you! You yourself are an idiot, and your father hasn't much more sense—he always goes about in dirty old clothes. You live like ignorant fools, and like fools you will die.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. That's enough!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. What?
RAZLYULYÁYEV. That's enough, I say!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Clown! You don't even know how to talk straight! It's simply waste of words to speak to you—like shooting peas against a wall—to waste words on such as you, fools! [Goes out.
SCENE VIII
The same without TORTSÓV