Serafima. You know I never drink it.
Oulìta. Well then, mead?
Serafima. I can’t, really.
Oulìta. Jam, then?
Serafima. I’ll have some jam.
Oulìta (taking keys out of pocket). Go to the store-room, Matryòna, and bring me two kinds.
Serafima. And tell my coachman to bring the carriage round.
(Matryòna crosses stage, and exit.)
Oulìta. Have some more fruit, Serafimoushka. (Serafìma takes some.) Won’t you have any, Karp Kàrpych?
Karp. What next? As if I were going to eat all sorts of rubbish now! Put some aside for me, and have the rest cleared away. I’ll eat an orange with my brandy. (Oulìta eats fruit. Silence.)