Nan. Daddy dear, darling, they've smothered it!
Mítritch (angrily). Go to sleep, I tell you! Oh dear, may the frogs kick you! I'll give it to you with the broom! Go to sleep, I tell you!
Nan. Daddy, my treasure! Something is catching hold of my shoulders, something is catching hold with its paws! Daddy dear ... really, really ... I must go! Daddy, darling! let me get up on the oven with you! Let me, for Heaven's sake! Catching hold ... catching hold! Oh!
[Runs to the stove.
Mítritch. See how they've frightened the girl.... What vile creatures they are! May the frogs kick them! Well then, climb up. Nan (climbs on oven). But don't you go away! Mítritch. Where should I go to? Climb up, climb up! Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! Holy Mother!... How they have frightened the girl. (Covers her up.) There's a little fool—really a little fool! How they've frightened her; really, they are vile creatures! The deuce take 'em!
CURTAIN