AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. All right, then, I'll look at you from a distance. LÍPOCHKA. Look if you want to, only don't rave! Fudge, mamma, one can't dress up properly without your going off into a sentimental fit. AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. So, so, my dear! But when I look at you, it seems such a pity. LÍPOCHKA. Why so? It had to come some time. AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. All the same, it's a pity, you little fool. We've been raising you all these years, and you've grown up--but now for no reason at all we're giving you over to strangers, as if we were tired of you, and as if you bored us by your foolish childishness, and by your sweet behavior. Here, we'll pack you out of the house, like an enemy from the town; then we'll come to, and look around, and you'll be gone forever. Consider, good people, what it'll be like, living in some strange, far-away place, choking on another's bread, and wiping away your tears with your fist! Yes, good God, she's marrying beneath her; some blockhead will be butting in--a blockhead, the son of a blockhead! [_She weeps._ LÍPOCHKA. There you go, crying! Honestly, aren't you ashamed, mamma? What do you mean by blockhead? AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. [_Weeping_] The words came out of themselves. I couldn't help it. BOLSHÓV. What made you start this bawling? If anybody asks you, you don't know yourself. AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. I don't know, my dear, I don't know; the fit just came over me. BOLSHÓV. That's it, just foolishness. Tears come cheap with you. AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. Yes, my dear, they do! They do! I know myself that they come cheap; but how can you help it? LÍPOCHKA. Fudge, mamma, how you act! Stop it! Now, he'll come any moment--what's the use? AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. I'll stop, child, I'll stop; I'll stop right off! SCENE III _The same, and USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA_ USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. [_Entering_] How are you, my jewels! What are you gloomy and down in the dumps for? [_Kisses are exchanged._ AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. We'd about given you up. LÍPOCHKA. Well, Ustinya Naúmovna, will he come soon? USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. It's my fault, I own up at once; it's my fault! But our affairs, my jewels, aren't in a very good way. LÍPOCHKA. How! What do you mean by that? AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. Now what new notion have you got? USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Why, my pearls, our suitor is wavering. BOLSHÓV. Ha, ha, ha! You're a great go-between! How are you going to make a match? USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. He's like a balky horse, he won't whoa nor giddup. You can't get a sensible word out of him. LÍPOCHKA. But what's this, Ustinya Naúmovna? What do you mean, really? AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. Holy saints! How can it be! LÍPOCHKA. Have you just seen him?