NIKÍTA. Give me more drink! [Drinks].
MATRYÓNA. Now go, sonnie. You'll fall asleep now all right.
NIKÍTA [stands listening] Still alive … there … it's whining! Don't you hear?… There!
MATRYÓNA [whispers] No! I tell you!
NIKÍTA. Mother! My own mother! I've ruined my life! What have you done with me? Where am I to go? [Runs out of the hut; Matryóna follows him].
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!