. . You have less ear than a stuffed pike and your fingering is disgraceful.’]

ANNA PETROVNA [appearing in the open window]: Who was talking here just now? Was it you, Misha? Why are you striding about like that?

BORKIN: Even that won’t have got through to your Nicolas-voilà.2

ANNA PETROVNA: Listen, Misha, tell them to bring some hay to the croquet lawn.

BORKIN [gesturing with his hand]: Let me be, please.

ANNA PETROVNA: Really, what a tone of voice ... That tone doesn’t suit you at all. If you want women to love you, then don’t be cross in front of them and don’t go all pompous ... [To her husband] Nikolay, let’s go and turn somersaults on the hay ...

IVANOV: Anyuta, it’s bad for you to stand by an open window. Please move away ... [Shouting] Uncle, shut the window!

 

[The window is shut.]

 

BORKIN: Also, don’t forget that two days from now you have to pay Lebedev his interest.

IVANOV: I’ve remembered. Today I’ll be at Lebedev’s and I’ll ask him to wait ... [Looks at his watch.]

BORKIN: When are you going there?

IVANOV: Now.

BORKIN [animatedly]: Wait, wait! . . . Isn’t today Shurochka’s birthday ... Tut-tut-tut ... And I forgot ... What a memory ... [Jumps.] I’ll go too, I’ll go ... [Sings.] I will go ... I’ll have a bath, chew some papers,3 take three drops of ammonia and I’ll be ready to begin all over again ... Sweet Nikolay Alekseyevich, my sunbeam, light of my life, you’re a mass of nerves, you’re a real whiner, you’re in a constant melanchondria,4 but the Lord above knows what we could do together! For you I’m ready for anything ... Do you want me to marry Marfusha Babakina — for you? Half the dowry is yours ... That is, not half, but take the lot! ...

IVANOV: Will you stop talking nonsense ...

BORKIN: No, seriously, really, would you like me to marry Marfusha? We’ll go halves on the dowry ... But why am I telling you this? Can you understand? [Imitating him.] ‘Will you stop talking nonsense.’ You’re a good man, an intelligent man, but you lack that little vein of ambition, do you see, that sweep. To reach out so as to make the imps of hell feel sick ... You’re a mental case, a moaner, but if you were a normal person, you’d make a million in a year. For example, if I now had two thousand three hundred roubles, in two weeks I’d have twenty thousand. Don’t you believe me? And you think that’s nonsense? No, it’s not nonsense ... Just give me two thousand three hundred roubles and in a week I’ll give you twenty thousand. Ovsyanov is selling a strip of land on the other bank of the river, right opposite us, for two thousand three hundred roubles. If we buy that strip, both banks will be ours.