VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. Benefactress, I'm afraid it might upset you. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. You've upset me already. Talk! VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. [_Glances about in all directions and sits down on a stool at the feet of_ MADAM ULANBÉKOV] Yesterday, benefactress, I was ending my evening prayer to the Heavenly Creator, and went out to stroll in the garden, and to occupy myself for the night with pious meditations. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Well! VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. And what did I see there, benefactress! How my legs held me up, I don't know! That Líza of yours was running through the bushes with a depraved look; it must be she was seeking her lovers. Our master, the little angel! was rowing in the boat on the pond, and Nádya, also with a depraved expression, was clinging to him with her arms about his neck, and was kissing him. And it was easy to see that he, because of his purity, was trying to thrust her away; but she kept clasping him about the neck, kissing and tempting him. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Are you lying? VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. You may quarter me, benefactress. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. It's enough if there is one grain of truth in your words. VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. It's all true, benefactress. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Fiddlesticks! not all--it can't be! You always make up more than half. But where were the servants? VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. All of them, benefactress, were more or less drunk. No sooner had you gone to bed, than they all went to the fair and got tipsy. Gavrílovna, Potápych, all were drunk. What an example to the young! MADAM ULANBÉKOV. This must be looked into thoroughly. Of course, I shouldn't have expected the least mischief of Leoníd. Quiet lads like him! Well, if he'd been a soldier, it would be pardonable; but as it is.... [_She muses._ VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. And furthermore, benefactress, so far Grísha hasn't come back from the fair. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. How's that? He didn't sleep at home? VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. He did not, benefactress! MADAM ULANBÉKOV. You lie, you lie, you lie! I'll drive you off the place! VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. May I die in my tracks! MADAM ULANBÉKOV. [_Sinking back in her chair_] You want to kill me. [_Raising herself from the chair_] You simply want to kill me. [_She rings. Enter_ POTÁPYCH] Where's Grísha? POTÁPYCH. Just came, ma'am. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Send him here! [POTÁPYCH _goes out_] This certainly beats all! VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. You'll not find anybody more devoted than I, benefactress; only I am unhappy in one respect: that my disposition displeases you. _Enter_ GRÍSHA, _his hair tousled and dishevelled._ SCENE III _The same, and_ GRÍSHA MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Where've you been? GRÍSHA. [_Now opens, now closes his eyes, not sure of his tongue, and unsteady on his legs_] At the fair, ma'am. MADAM ULANBÉKOV. Just come from it? [GRÍSHA _is silent_] Why don't you talk? [_Silence_] Am I going to get a word out of you, or not? VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. Answer the mistress. GRÍSHA. What's that to you?