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Updated: June 23, 2025
I take his mother's place. VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. I know, benefactress, I know; every one knows that if you take a notion, you, my benefactress, can make a man out of mud; but if you don't take a notion to do so, he'll fall into insignificance no matter how brainy he may be. He's to blame himself, because he didn't deserve it! MADAM ULANBÉKOV. I'm sure I never did any one any harm.
VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. No, now I'm going to look around every bush. LÍZA. Do it! VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA looks about on both sides, then approaches the pond. VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. Ha, what's this? Do tell, what tricks they're up to! In the boat! Hugging each other! How tender that is! Just like a picture!
VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. Harm? You, who because of your angelic heart wouldn't hurt even a fly! Of course all we mortals are not without sins; you have done many things; you can't please everybody. Indeed, to tell the truth, my dear benefactress, there are people enough who complain about you. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Who complains about me? What a lie!
GRÍSHA. Please let me, ma'am! VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. As if the mistress didn't love you, as if she didn't fondle you, more, if anything, than her own son! GRÍSHA. I want awfully to go to the fair; please let me, ma'am. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Well, go along then! but come back early! GRÍSHA. Yes, ma'am. VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. Kiss the dear lady's hand, you blockhead!
Still smiling, Vasilisa suddenly gave a gulp, big tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and she screened her face from the fire with her sleeve as though ashamed of her tears, and Lukerya, staring immovably at the student, flushed crimson, and her expression became strained and heavy like that of someone enduring intense pain.
He was vulgarity itself: coarse, conceited, invincible, proud of having been born and bred in a pot-house; and Vasilisa quite understood the vulgarity, but could not express it in words, and could only look angrily and suspiciously at Yegor.
VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. May my eyes burst if I did. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Well, I know you. You're never at rest in your own soul unless you're about to say something mean. GAVRÍLOVNA. Right away, mistress. She pours out two cups. POTÁPYCH hands them to MADAM ULANBÉKOV and to VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Pour Grísha a cup, too; he went with me to-day, and he's tired out.
You must have an awful lot of things on your mind. I had a bad dream. VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. What, a dream, benefactress? The dream may be terrible, but God is merciful. Not the dream, but what is going on in reality, disturbs you, benefactress. I see that; I've seen it a long time. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Bah, what is it to me what's going on?
Just now when I began to talk about Grísha, you heard how she began to roar? You heard how she began to hiss? POTÁPYCH. What's that to me? I, by the mistress's kindness, in her employ....I shall carry out all her orders.... What business is it of mine? I don't want to know anything that isn't my business. VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. But did you see how Nádya and Líza the hussies! looked at me?
"Well!" says he, "do you expect me to drive out a good man for your godson?" Churlish fellow! However, he promised! VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. To think of his hesitating! I cannot understand how he could even talk back to you. Here his ill-breeding shows up at once.
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