fellow! For a young fellow to dress up and all that is all right; but you see he's nearly sixty, my dear, nearly sixty! Really! "Your fashionable up-to-date things," says I, "change every day; our Russian things have lived from time immemorial! The old folks weren't any stupider than we." But can you reason with him, my dear, with his violent character? MÍTYA. What is there to say? He's a harsh man. PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Lyubóv is just at the right age now; we ought to be settling her, but he keeps dinning it in: "There's no one her equal, no! no!" But there is! But he says there isn't. How hard all this is for a mother's heart. MÍTYA. Perhaps Gordéy Kárpych wishes to marry Lyubóv Gordéyevna in Moscow. PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Who knows what he has in his mind? He looks like a wild beast, and never says a word, as if I were not a mother. Yes, truly, I never say anything to him; I don't dare; all you can do is to speak with some outsider about your grief, and weep, and relieve your heart; that's all. [_Rises_] You'll come, Mítya? MÍTYA. I'll come, ma'am. GÚSLIN _comes in_. SCENE IV The _same and_ GÚSLIN PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Here's another fine lad! Come up-stairs to us, Yasha, and sing songs with the girls; you're good at that; and bring along your guitar. GÚSLIN. Thank you, ma'am: I don't think of that as work; I must say it's a pleasure. PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Well, good-by! I'm going to take a nap for half an hour. GÚSLIN _and_ MÍTYA. Good-by. PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA _goes out_; MÍTYA _seats himself dejectedly at the table_; GÚSLIN _seats himself on the bed and takes up the guitar_. SCENE V MÍTYA _and_ YÁSHA GÚSLIN GÚSLIN. What a crowd there was at the fair! Your people were there. Why weren't you? MÍTYA. Because I felt so awfully miserable. GÚSLIN. What's the matter? What are you unhappy about? MÍTYA. How can I help being unhappy? Thoughts like these keep coming into my head: what sort of man am I in the world? My mother is old and poor now, and I must keep her--and how? My salary is small; I get nothing but abuse and insults from Gordéy Kárpych; he keeps reproaching me with my poverty, as if I were to blame--and he doesn't increase my salary. I'd look for another place, but where can one find one without friends? And, yes, I will confess to you that I won't go to another place. GOSLIN. Why won't you go? There at the Razlyulyáyevs' it's very nice--the people are rich and kind. MÍTYA. No, Yasha, that doesn't suit me! I'll bear anything from Gordéy Kárpych, I'll stand poverty, but I won't go away. That's my destiny! GÚSLIN. Why so? MÍTYA. [_Rises_] Well, I have a reason for this. It is, Yasha, because I have another sorrow--but nobody knows about it. I haven't spoken to any one about my sorrow. GÚSLIN. Tell me about it. MÍTYA. [_Waving his hand_] What for? GÚSLIN. Yes, tell me; don't put on airs! MÍTYA. Whether I tell you or not, you can't help me! GÚSLIN. How do you know?