OLIMPIÁDA SAMSÓNOVNA. Here, count: my wedding-dress of blond lace over
a satin slip; and three velvets--that makes four; two gauze and a
crape embroidered with gold--that's seven; three satin, and three
grosgrain--that's thirteen; gros de Naples and gros d'Afrique,
seven--that's twenty; three marceline, two mousseline de ligne, two Chine
royale--how many's that?--three and four's seven, and twenty--twenty-seven;
four crape Rachel--that's thirty-one. Then there are muslins, bouffe
mousseline and calico, about twenty, and then waists and morning
jackets--about nine or ten. And then I've just had one made of Persian
stuff.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Lord help you, what heaps you've got! But you go and pick
out for me the largest of the gros d'Afrique ones.
OLIMPIÁDA SAMSÓNOVNA. I won't give you a gros d'Afrique. I have only three
myself; besides, it wouldn't suit your figure: now, if you want to, you can
take a crape Rachel.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. What in time do I want with a tripe Rachel. Evidently
there's nothing to be done with you; I'll be satisfied with a satin one,
and let it go at that.
OLIMPIÁDA SAMSÓNOVNA. Well, and the satin, too--it's not quite the thing,
cut ballroom style, very low--you understand? But I'll look up a crape
Rachel jacket; we'll let out the tucks, and it'll fit you like the paper on
the wall.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Well, bring on your tripe Rachel! You win, my ruby; go
open the clothes closet.
OLIMPIÁDA SAMSÓNOVNA. Right away; wait just a minute.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. I'll wait, my jewel, I'll wait. Besides, I have to have
a little talk with your husband. [OLIMPIÁDA SAMSÓNOVNA _goes out_] What's
this, my jewel, have you entirely forgotten about your promise?
PODKHALYÚZIN. How could I forget, ma'am? I remember. [_He takes out his
pocketbook and gives her a note._
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Why, what's this, my diamond?
PODKHALYÚZIN. One hundred rubles, ma'am!
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Only one hundred? Why, you promised me fifteen hundred!
PODKHALYÚZIN. Wha--at, ma'am?
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. You promised me fifteen hundred!
PODKHALYÚZIN. Ain't that a bit steep? Won't you be living too high?
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. What's this, you barnyard cockerel; are you trying to
joke with me, man? I'm a mighty cocky lady myself!
PODKHALYÚZIN. But why should I give you money? I'd do it if there were any
occasion for it.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Whether for something or for nothing, give it here--you
promised it yourself!
PODKHALYÚZIN. What if I did promise! I promised to jump from the Tower of
Ivan the Great, provided I married Olimpiáda Samsónovna; should I jump?
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Do you think I won't have the law on you? Much I care
that you're a merchant of the second guild; I'm in the fourteenth class
myself, and even if that ain't much, I'm an official's wife all the same.
PODKHALYÚZIN. You may be a general's wife--it's all the same to me; I won't
have anything to do with you! And there's an end to it!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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