SECOND PEASANT. You'd better give him some.
SERVANTS' COOK [gets out a bottle and fills a wine-glass] Here you are; you'll get no more.
DISCHARGED COOK [clutches hold of it and drinks, trembling all over] Loukérya, Cook! I am drinking, and you must understand …
SERVANTS' COOK. Now then, stop your chatter! Get on to the oven, and let not a breath of you be heard! [The old Cook meekly begins to climb up, muttering something to himself].
SECOND PEASANT. What it is, when a man gives way to his weakness!
FIRST PEASANT. That's just it—human weakness.
THIRD PEASANT. That goes without saying.
The Discharged Cook settles down, muttering all the time. Silence.
SECOND PEASANT. I want to ask you something: that girl of Aksínya's as comes from our village and is living here. How is she? What is she like? How is she living—I mean, does she live honest?
JACOB. She's a nice girl; one can say nothing but good of her.