the bride doesn't like the groom, nor the groom the bride: then the lady falls into a great rage. She even goes out of her head. She took a notion to marry one protégée to a petty shopkeeper in town; but he, an unpolished individual, was going to resist. "The bride doesn't please me," he said, "and, besides, I don't want to get married yet." So the mistress complained at once to the town bailiff and to the priest: well, they brought the blockhead round.

LEONÍD. You don't say.

POTÁPYCH. Yes, sir. And even if the mistress sees a girl at one of her acquaintances', she immediately looks up a husband for her. Our mistress reasons this way: that they are stupid; that if she doesn't look after them closely now, they'll just waste their life and never amount to anything. That's the way, sir. Some people, because of their stupidity, hide girls from the mistress, so that she may never set eyes on them; because if she does, it's all up with the girls.

LEONÍD. And so she treats other people's girls the same way?

POTÁPYCH. Other people's, too. She extends her care to everybody. She has such a kind heart that she worries about everybody. She even gets angry if they do anything without her permission. And the way she looks after her protégées is just a wonder. She dresses them as if they were her own daughters. Sometimes she has them eat with her; and she doesn't make them do any work. "Let everybody look," says the mistress, "and see how my protégées live; I want every one to envy them," she says.

LEONÍD. Well, now, that's fine, Potápych.

POTÁPYCH. And what a touching little sermon she reads them when they're married! "You," she says, "have lived with me in wealth and luxury, and have had nothing to do; now you are marrying a poor man, and will live your life in poverty, and will work, and will do your duty. And now forget," she says, "how you lived here, because not for you I did all this; I was merely diverting myself, but you must never even think of such a life; always remember your insignificance, and of what station you are." And all this so feelingly that there are tears in her own eyes.

LEONÍD. Well, now, that's fine.

POTÁPYCH. I don't know how to describe it, sir. Somehow they all get tired of married life later; they mostly pine away.

LEONÍD. Why do they pine away, Potápych?

POTÁPYCH. Must be they don't like it, if they pine away.

LEONÍD. That's queer.

POTÁPYCH. The husbands mostly turn out ruffians.

LEONÍD. Is that so?

POTÁPYCH. Everybody hopes to get one of our protégées, because the mistress right away becomes his patroness. Now in the case of these she marries to government clerks, there's a good living for the husband; because if they want to drive him out of the court, or have done so, he goes at once to our mistress with a complaint, and she's a regular bulwark for him; she'll bother the governor himself. And then the government clerk can get drunk or anything else, and not be afraid of anybody, unless he is insubordinate or steals a lot….

LEONÍD. But, say, Potápych, why is it that the girls run away from me?

POTÁPYCH. How can they help running? They must run, sir!

LEONÍD. Why must they?

POTÁPYCH. Hm! Why? Why, because, as you are still under age, the mistress wants to watch over you as she ought to; well, and she watches over them, too.

LEONÍD. She watches us, ha, ha, ha!

POTÁPYCH. Yes, sir. That's the truth! She was talking about that. You're a child, just like a dove, but, well—the girls are foolish. [Silence] What next, sir? It's your mamma's business to be strict, because she is a lady. But why should you mind her! You ought to act for yourself, as all young gentlemen do. You don't have to suffer because she's strict. Why should you let others get ahead of you? That'd disgrace you.

LEONÍD. Well, well, but I don't know how to talk to the girls.

POTÁPYCH. But what's the use of talking to them a long time? What about? What kind of sciences would you talk about with them? Much they understand such stuff! You're just the master, and that's all.

LEONÍD. [Glances to one side] Who's this coming? That's NÁDYA, evidently.
Ah, Potápych, how pretty she is!

POTÁPYCH. She is related to me, sir, my niece. Her father was set free by the late master; he was employed in a confectioner's in Moscow. When her mother died, her mistress took and brought her up, and is awful fond of her. And because her father is dead, why, now, she's an orphan. She's a good girl.

LEONÍD. Looks as if they were coming this way.

POTÁPYCH. Well, let 'em.

GAVRÍLOVNA and NÁDYA enter.

SCENE III

The same, GAVRÍLOVNA and NÁDYA

GAVRÍLOVNA. How do you do, good master?

LEONÍD. [Bows] How do you do?

GAVRÍLOVNA. Well, master, I suppose you're bored in the country?

LEONÍD. No, not at all.

GAVRÍLOVNA. What, not bored yet! Why, you see it's like a monastery here; they look after you with a hundred eyes. Well, as for you, it goes without saying, you're a young gentleman, you ought to have some amusement; but you can't. It's no great joy to shoot ducks! [She laughs.

LEONÍD. [Going up to GAVRÍLOVNA] Yes, yes, Gavrílovna.

NÁDYA. [To GAVRÍLOVNA] Let's go.

GAVRÍLOVNA. Where do you want to go? Now, seeing that the mistress isn't at home, you ought to have a little fun with the young master. That's what young folks need. And what a clever girl she is, master! In talking, and in everything.

NÁDYA. Come, what's the use!

GAVRÍLOVNA. Well, there's no harm in it! I was young once. I didn't run away from the gentlemen, and you see they didn't eat me. Perhaps even he won't bite you. Quit playing the prude, and stay here! But I'm going to get the tea ready! Good-by, good master! [She goes out.

LEONÍD. Why did you not wish to remain with me?

POTÁPYCH. What's this, sir! You talk to her as if she were a young lady!
Call her Nádya!

LEONÍD. What are you afraid of, Nádya?

NÁDYA is silent.

POTÁPYCH. Talk! What are you keeping still for? And I'm going, sir; I must get dressed for tea, too. [He goes out.

SCENE IV

LEONÍD, NÁDYA, and then LÍZA

NÁDYA. Of course I'm a girl of humble position, but, indeed, even we do not want anybody to speak evil of us. Pray consider yourself, after such talk, who would marry me?

LEONÍD. Are you going to get married?

NÁDYA. Yes, sir. Every girl hopes to get married some time.

LEONÍD. But have you a suitor?

NÁDYA. Not yet, sir.

LEONÍD. [Timidly] If you have no suitor, then, maybe you're in love with somebody?

NÁDYA. You want to know a lot! Well, no, I needn't fib about it, I'm not in love with anybody, sir.

LEONÍD. [With great joy] Then love me!

NÁDYA. It's impossible to force the heart, sir.

LEONÍD. Why? Don't you like me?

NÁDYA. Well, how could I help liking you? But I'm not