USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. [_To_ FOMÍNISHNA] Come on, you dear soul, let's have a kiss now. To be sure, we've already exchanged greetings in the yard, my jewel, so we don't need to rub lips again. FOMÍNISHNA. Just as you wish. Of course I'm no lady of a household. I don't amount to much; all the same I have a soul in me, and not just vapor! AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. [_Sitting down_] Sit down, sit down, Ustinya Naúmovna! Why do you stand up as stiff as a bean-pole? Fomínishna, go tell them to heat up the samovar. USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. I've had my tea, I've had it, my jewel; may I perish on the spot if I haven't; and I've just dropped in for a moment. AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. What are you loafing about for, Fomínishna? Run off a little more nimbly, granny. LÍPOCHKA. Let me, mamma, I'll go quicker; look how clumsy she is! FOMÍNISHNA. Don't you meddle where you aren't asked! For my part, my dear Agraféna Kondrátyevna, this is what I think: wouldn't it be nicer to serve cordial and some herring? AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. Cordial's all right, and the samovar's all right. Or are you stingy with other people's stuff? Well, when it's ready, have it brought here. FOMÍNISHNA. Certainly! All right! [_She goes out_. SCENE V _The same, without_ FOMÍNISHNA AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. Well, haven't you any news, Ustinya Naúmovna? This girl of mine is simply grieved to death. LÍPOCHKA. And really, Ustinya Naúmovna, you keep coming, and coming, and no good comes of it. USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. But one can't fix things up quickly with you, my jewels. Your daddy has his eye peeled for a rich fellow; he tells me he'll be satisfied with any bell-boy provided he has money and asks a small enough settlement. And your mamma also, Agraféna Kondrátyevna, is always wanting her own taste suited; you must be sure to give her a merchant, with a decoration, who keeps horses, and who crosses himself in the old way[1]. You also have your own notions. How's a person going to please you all? SCENE VI _The same and_ FOMÍNISHNA, _who enters and places vodka and relishes on the table_. LÍPOCHKA. I won't marry a merchant, not for anything. I won't! As if I was brought up for that, and learned French[1], and to play the piano, and to dance! No, no; get him wherever you want to, but get me an aristocrat. [Footnote 1: Evidently, Bolshóv and his family, like many other wealthy Moscow merchants, belonged to the sect of the Old Believers, one of whose dearest tenets is that the sign of the cross should be made with two fingers instead of with three.] AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. Here, you talk with her. FOMÍNISHNA. What put aristocrats into your head? What's the special relish in them? They don't even grow beards like Christians; they don't go to the public baths, and don't make pasties on holidays. But, you see, even if you're married, you'll get sick of nothing but sauce and gravy.