Peter. I hope your Highness is pleased with the venison. I shot it myself.
Colonel. It had been better had you talked less about it. Sergeant, get ready. (Gives purse to Peter.) Here, you cheating rascal!
Peter. My fortune is made! long live your Highness. I hope your Highness will come often this way.
Colonel. By Saint Nicholas, I hope not. It is too cold here for me. (To Vera.) Young girl, don't ask questions again about what does not concern you. I will not forget your face.
Vera. Nor I yours, or what you are doing.
Colonel. You peasants are getting too saucy since you ceased to be serfs, and the knout is the best school for you to learn politics in. Sergeant, proceed.
(The Colonel turns and goes to top of stage. The prisoners pass out double file; as Dmitri passes Vera he lets a piece of paper fall on the ground; she puts her foot on it and remains immobile.)
Peter (who has been counting the money the Colonel gave him). Long life to your Highness. I will hope to see another batch soon. (Suddenly catches sight of Dmitri as he is going out of the door, and screams and rushes up.) Dmitri! Dmitri! my God! what brings you here? he is innocent, I tell you. I'll pay for him. Take your money (flings money on the ground), take all I have, give me my son. Villains! Villains! where are you bringing him?
Colonel. To Siberia, old man.
Peter. No, no; take me instead.