KVASHNYA. Yes, yes. Alyoshka!
ALYOSHKA. Here he is—I, myself!
KVASHNYA. What do you mean by gossiping about me?
ALYOSHKA. I? I speak out everything—whatever my conscience tells me. There, I say, is a wonderful woman! Splendid meat, fat, bones—over four hundred pounds! But brains—? Not an ounce!
KVASHNYA. You’re a liar! I’ve lot of brains! What do you mean by saying I beat my policeman?
ALYOSHKA. I thought you did—when you pulled him by the hair!
KVASHNYA [laughs] You fool! You aren’t blind, are you? Why wash dirty linen in public? And—it hurts his feelings—that’s why he took to drink . . .
ALYOSHKA. It’s true, evidently, that even a chicken likes vodka . . .
[Satine and Kleshtch roar with laughter.]