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"The vile wretch disguised herself as an angel!" Pelageya vividly arose in his memory, and he whispered malignantly and bitterly: "Though a fallen woman, she is better. She did not play the hypocrite. She at once unfolded her soul and her body, and her heart is surely just as her breast white and sound."
But if you're not sorry then give her to Afrikán Savvich; sell her into slavery forever and ever. You'll be miserable yourselves when you see her wretched life; you'll come to your senses, you and Gordéy Kárpych, but then it will be too late. PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. But how could you, without her father's blessing? How could you? Judge for yourself!
Pelagéya Egórovna, Lyubóv Gordéyevna, and guests with them. MÍTYA alone MÍTYA. Oh, Lord, what misery! Everybody in the streets is having a holiday, and everybody in the houses too, and you have to sit between four walls! I am a stranger to all, no relations, no friends! And then besides! O well! "Her beauty I cannot describe! Dark eyebrows, with languishing eyes." Yes, with languishing eyes.
KÓRSHUNOV. Why turn them out! Who's going to turn the girls out. He, he, he! They'll sing a song, and we'll listen and watch them, and we'll give them some money, but not turn them out. GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. As you wish, Afrikán Savvich! Only I am abashed before you! You can't say I deny you anything. PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Well, what's the use of musicians for us old women?
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA goes out; MÍTYA seats himself dejectedly at the table; GÚSLIN seats himself on the bed and takes up the guitar. MÍTYA and YÁSHA GÚSLIN GÚSLIN. What a crowd there was at the fair! Your people were there. Why weren't you? MÍTYA. Because I felt so awfully miserable. GÚSLIN. What's the matter? What are you unhappy about? MÍTYA. How can I help being unhappy?
After Russian country dances and chorus dances, Pelageya Danilovna made the serfs and gentry join in one large circle: a ring, a string, and a silver ruble were fetched and they all played games together. In an hour, all the costumes were crumpled and disordered. The corked eyebrows and mustaches were smeared over the perspiring, flushed, and merry faces.
LÍZA. "Just imagine, mother!" I said, "he doesn't know how to talk properly, and he even uses such words that it's absolutely impolite." RAZLYULYÁYEV. Do you mean me? PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, my friend, I love the good old ways. Yes, our good old Russian ways. But there! my husband doesn't care for them! What can you do about it? That's his character.
It's rather late, they will all be asleep in the hospital, but that doesn't matter, I will give you a note. Do you hear?" "Kind sir, but what can he go in?" says Pelageya. "We have no horse." "Never mind. I'll ask your master, he'll let you have a horse." The doctor goes away, the candle goes out, and again there is the sound of "boo boo boo." Half an hour later someone drives up to the hut.
And yesterday when she came from mass, in her sable coat, and her little handkerchief on her head, like this ah! "Where, O where was this beauty born!" My work all goes out of my head! I'm always thinking of her! My heart is tormented with sorrow. O misery most miserable! Covers his face with his hands and sits silent. Enter PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA, dressed in winter clothes; she stops in the doorway.
Pelageya waved her handkerchief and smiled, but he knew that she was crying, shedding many painful tears. From her tears the entire front of Foma's shirt was wet, and from her tears, his heart, full of gloomy alarm, was sad and cold.
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