The gipsy's sudden appearance frightened him.
"Give me your hand, dear gentleman, pretty gentleman. I can see from your face that you'll be rich. You'll be an important official," Liudmilla importuned him, and took his hand.
"Well, see that you give me a good fortune," growled Peredonov.
"My sweet gentleman," began the gipsy, "you have many enemies, they'll inform against you, you will weep, you will die under a fence."
"Carrion!" shouted Peredonov, and snatched his hand away.
Liudmilla quickly disappeared in the crowd. Then Valeria took her place. She sat down beside Peredonov and whispered to him very tenderly:
"I am a lovely Spanish maid,
And I love such men as you,
But that your wife's a wretched jade,
Handsome gentleman, is true."
"It's a lie, you fool," growled Peredonov.
Valeria went on:
"Hotter than day, sweeter than night,
Is my keen Seville kiss;
Spit in her dull eyes, my light,
And see that you don't miss.
Varvara is your wife,
You are handsome, Ardalyon;
She's a plague upon your life,
You're as wise as Solomon."