NIKÍTA. Mother, mother! It seems my time has come! What have you done with me? How the little bones crunched, and how it whimpered! My own mother! What have you done with me? [Steps aside and sits down on the sledge].
MATRYÓNA. Come, my own, have a drink! It certainly does seem uncanny at night-time. But wait a bit. When the day breaks, you know, and one day and another passes, you'll forget even to think of it. Wait a bit; when the girl's married we'll even forget to think of it. But you go and have a drink; have a drink! I'll go and put things straight in the cellar myself.
NIKÍTA [rouses himself] Is there any drink left? Perhaps I can drink it off! [Exit].
Anísya, who has stood all the time by the door, silently makes way for him.
MATRYÓNA. Go, go, honey, and I'll set to work! I'll go down myself and dig! Where has he thrown the spade to? [Finds the spade, and goes down into the cellar] Anísya, come here! Hold the light, will you?
ANÍSYA. And what of him?
MATRYÓNA. He's so frightened! You've been too hard with him. Leave him alone, he'll come to his senses. God help him! I'll set to work myself. Put the lantern down here. I can see.
Matryóna disappears into the cellar.
ANÍSYA [looking towards the door by which Nikíta entered the hut] Well, have you had enough spree? You've been puffing yourself up, but now you'll know how it feels! You'll lose some of your bluster!
NIKÍTA [rushes out of the hut towards the cellar] Mother! mother, I say!