FAT LADY. For goodness' sake don't interrupt! I should also like to ask something. May I?
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Yes, if you like.
FAT LADY. I should like to ask about my digestion. May I? I want to know what to take: aconite or belladonna?
Silence, whispers among the young people; suddenly Vasíly Leoníditch begins to cry like a baby: “ou-a, ou-a!” [Laughter.] Holding their mouths and noses, the girls and Petrístchef run away bursting with laughter.
FAT LADY. Ah, that must be the monk who's been born again!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH [beside himself with anger, whispers] One gets nothing but tomfoolery from you! If you don't know how to behave decently, go away!
Exit Vasíly Leoníditch. Darkness and silence.
FAT LADY. Oh, what a pity! Now one can't ask any more! He is born!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Not at all. It is only Vovo's nonsense. But he is here. Ask him.
PROFESSOR. That often happens. These jokes and ridicule are quite usual occurrences. I expect he is still here. But we may ask. Leoníd Fyódoritch, will you?