Enter Leoníd Fyódoritch.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well, friends, I can't do it! I should be very glad to, but it is quite impossible. If it were for ready money it would be a different matter.
FIRST PEASANT. That's just so. What more could any one desire? But the people are so inpennycuous—it is quite impossible!
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Well, I can't do it, I really can't. Here is your document; I can't sign it.
THIRD PEASANT. Show some pity, master; be merciful!
SECOND PEASANT. How can you act so? It is doing us a wrong.
LEONÍD FYÓDORITCH. Nothing wrong about it, friends. I offered it you in summer, but then you did not agree; and now I can't agree to it.
THIRD PEASANT. Master, be merciful! How are we to get along? We have so little land. We'll say nothing about the cattle; a hen, let's say, there's no room to let a hen run about.
Leoníd Fyódoritch goes up to the door and stops. Enter, descending the staircase, Anna Pávlovna and doctor, followed by Vasíly Leoníditch, who is in a merry and playful mood and is putting some bank-notes into his purse.
ANNA PÁVLOVNA [tightly laced, and wearing a bonnet] Then I am to take it?