NAN. Now then!
NIKÍTA [threatens her with the rope] Go, I say! I'll give it you!
NAN. Then I'll send mother! [Runs away].
NIKÍTA [rises] How can I go? How can I take the holy icón in my hands? How am I to look her in the face! [Lies down again] Oh, if there were a hole in the ground, I'd jump in! No one should see me, and I should see no one! [Rises again] No, I shan't go … May they all go to the devil, I shan't go! [Takes the rope and makes a noose, and tries it on his neck] That's the way!
Enter Matryóna. Nikíta sees his mother, takes the rope off his neck, and again lies down in the straw.
MATRYÓNA [comes in hurriedly] Nikíta! Nikíta, I say! He don't even answer! Nikíta, what's the matter? Have you had a drop too much? Come, Nikíta dear; come, honey! The people are tired of waiting.
NIKÍTA. Oh dear, what have you done with me? I'm a lost man!
MATRYÓNA. But what is the matter then? Come, my own; come, give them your blessing, as is proper and honourable, and then it'll all be over! Why, the people are waiting!
NIKÍTA. How can I give blessings?
MATRYÓNA. Why, in the usual way! Don't you know?