_Weathervane._ You will hardly believe how poor I am in Russian! In Russian my intelligence is so narrow, so small! But in French: o, que le diable m’emporte! My intelligence at once walks in by the grande porte. I’ll tell you what once happened to me. I was once sitting with a young lady who did not know two words of French, and that caused ma tête horriblement to ache, so that I had to pass a whole day at home in undress. _Mrs. Indolent._ I should not think the harm could be so great. The pain, no doubt, was caused through nagimation. _Weathervane._ Imagination you meant to say? _Mrs. Indolent._ That’s it. You see, though I am a little out of practice, I am still able to adorn our coarse tongue, which I despise, with French morsels. My époux has always seemed such an odd fellow to me because, though he knows French like a Frenchman, he does not care to amuse himself with that charming language. _Weathervane._ That, madam, I cannot understand. A nobleman.... _Mrs. Indolent._ Oh! His race is as distinguished as the ace of trumps, and nobody can compare with him in antiquity of origin: he can recount his ancestors a thousand years back. _Weathervane._ And so there is not the least obstacle, ma charmante Úlinka, for regarding you as my own! (_Úlinka makes a courtesy._) Everything is equal in us: the graces, and pleasures, and intelligence, je m’en flatte, and even our families. (_Úlinka courtesies._) How delicate your courtesying at the mention of family! Courtesying takes the place of redundant language, de discours frivoles, superfluous babbling. She knows how to say everything in a charming manner, and with modesty to express an immodest wish, who knows how to courtesy like Úlinka. (_Noticing Mrs. Indolent’s husband._) Please tell me who is that bear that is walking towards us? _Mrs. Indolent._ My husband. _Weathervane._ You are joking! Is it not rather his ancestor who a thousand years ago began his race? _Mrs. Indolent._ The exterior, you know, does not tell much. In this world, sir, it is not rare for hidden nobility to deceive the eye: though the diamond does not shine in the dark, yet it is a diamond. He is, I assure you, a nobleman of ancient race, and, forgive me, a bit of a philosopher. _Weathervane._ Is it not a shame to rank yourself with asses? Is it an occupation for a nobleman to philosophise? _Mrs. Indolent_ (_to Úlinka_). Now, Úlinka, you cannot stay here; we have to talk with father about you. (_Úlinka courtesies. Exit._) SCENE 3. INDOLENT, MRS. INDOLENT, WEATHERVANE _Mrs. Indolent_ (_aside_). O Heaven! Help me to end all successfully. I tremble, I am afraid my husband will give me away, for he cannot speak a word of French, and it is but recently that he was made a nobleman. How unfortunate I am! How am I to bear it all? (_To her husband._) You see here that distinguished cavalier who is doing us the extreme honour. _Weathervane_ (_bending, greets him foppishly_). I wish to be a son-in-law....