NASTYA [getting up] What do you want? Give it back to me! You scoundrel! And that’s a nobleman for you!
THE BARON [returning the book to her] Nastya! Sweep the floor for me—will you?
NASTYA [goes to kitchen] Not so’s you’ll notice it!
KVASHNYA [to the Baron through kitchen door] Come on—you! They don’t need you! Actor! You were asked to do it, and now you go ahead and attend to it—it won’t kill you . . .
THE ACTOR. It’s always I . . . I don’t understand why. . . .
[The Baron comes from the kitchen, across his shoulders a wooden beam from which hang earthen pots covered with rags.]
THE BARON. Heavier than ever!
SATINE. It paid you to be born a Baron, eh?
KVASHNYA [to Actor] See to it that you sweep up! [Crosses to outer door, letting the Baron pass ahead]
THE ACTOR [climbing down from the stove] It’s bad for me to inhale dust. [With pride] My organism is poisoned with alcohol. [Sits down on a bunk, meditating]