Arìna. Douniàshka! Let him in, and ask him to wait. (Douniàshka runs into hall and opens door. Voices without: “At home?” “At home; come in, please.” All stoop down and try to look through keyhole.)
Agàfia (screams). Oh! what a fat man!
Fèkla. He’s coming! he’s coming. (Exeunt in a headlong rush. Enter Douniàshka and Ivàn Pàvlovich Yaìchnitza.)
Doun. Wait here, please. (Exit.)
Yaìch. It’s all very well to say “Wait,” but I can’t spend much time waiting about for her; I only got a few minutes’ leave from the Department. Supposing the General were to ask, “Where’s the usher gone?” “Gone to look for a wife!” Tut, tut, tut! The general would give her what for, I know.... I may as well look through the list again. (Reads.) “Two-storied stone house.” (Looks up and examines room.) Yes! (Reads.) “Two wings—one wooden, one with stone basement.”... H’m.... The wooden one is not up to much. (Reads.) “Carriage; carved two-horse sledge, with large and small rugs.”... I daresay they’ll be only fit to break up. However, the old woman declares they’re first-rate; well, let’s suppose they are. (Reads.) “Two dozen silver spoons.”... Of course one must have silver spoons for the house.... “Two fox-fur cloaks.”... H’m.... “Four large feather-beds; two small ones.” (Compresses lips expressively.) “Twelve silk dresses; twelve cotton ditto; two dressing-jackets; two....” H’m.... those are trifles. “Under-linen; table-cloths....” All that’s her business. However, I shall have to verify it all. It’s very likely they’ll promise a house and carriage and all sorts of things now, and when once you’re married, you find there’s not a thing but feather-beds and pillows. (Door-bell rings; Douniàshka runs hastily through room into hall, and opens door. Voices without, “At home?” “At home.” Enter Anoùchkin and Douniàshka.)
Doun. Wait here, please; they’ll come presently. (Exit. Anoùchkin and Yaìchnitza bow to each other.)
Yaìch. Your servant, sir!
Anoùch. Have I the honour to address the papa of the charming lady of the house?
Yaìch. Certainly not, sir, I have not the pleasure of having any children.
Anoùch. Oh! I beg your pardon! I really beg your pardon!