Pod. Look here, that’s too much of a good thing. (Softly.) Are you gone off your head? There’s a serf in the room, and you let him hear you say bad words! Can’t you find another place to quarrel in?
Koch. I should like to know who could help quarrelling with you! Bad language! What else could anybody turn their tongue to? You begin by behaving reasonably, and arrange to get married, as any sensible man would; and then, all of a sudden, without why or wherefore, you must get a bee in your bonnet, and there’s no more sense in you than in a wooden post....
Pod. There, that’ll do! I’ll come; why, you needn’t fly at me like that!
Koch. Come? Of course you will—what else should you do? (To Stepàn.) Give him his hat and cloak.
Pod. (at the door). What a queer fellow it is! There’s no making him out at all. All of a sudden he sets to work and abuses you without rhyme or reason. Doesn’t understand how to speak to a fellow.
Koch. There! I’m not going to scold you now. (Exeunt.)
Scene II.
(A room in Agàfia Tikhònovna’s house. Agàfia Tikhònovna spreading cards for fortune-telling, Arìna Pantelèymovna looking over her shoulder.)
Agàfia. Why, auntie! there’s a journey again! Some king of diamonds takes an interest in me; then there are tears, and a love-letter; on the left-hand side the king of clubs expresses great sympathy—but there’s a wicked woman that stands between.
Arìna. Whom do you think the king of clubs stands for?