MATRYONA. Ah, but a widow's lot is also bitter. It's all right as long as one's young, but who'll care for you when you're old? Oh yes, old age is not pleasure. Just look at me. I've not walked very far, and yet am so footsore I don't know how to stand. Where's my son? ANISYA. Ploughing. But you come in and we'll get the samovar ready; the tea'll set you up again. MATRYONA (sitting down). Yes, it's true, I'm quite done up, my dears. As to extreme unction, that's absolutely necessary. Besides, they say it's good for the soul. ANISYA. Yes, we'll send to-morrow. MATRYONA. Yes, you had better. And we've had a wedding down in our parts. NEIGHBOR. What, in spring?[2] MATRYONA. Ah, now if it were a poor man, then, as the saying is, it's always unseasonable for a poor man to marry. But it's Simon Matveyitch, he's married that Marina. ANISYA. What luck for her! NEIGHBOR. He's a widower. I suppose there are children? MATRYONA. Four of 'em. What decent girl would have him! Well, so he's taken her, and she's glad. You see, the vessel was not sound, so the wine trickled out. NEIGHBOR. Oh, my! And what do people say to it? And he, a rich peasant! MATRYONA. They are living well enough so far. NEIGHBOR. Yes, it's true enough. Who wants to marry where there are children? There now, there's our Michael. He's such a fellow, dear me.... PEASANT'S VOICE. Hullo, Mavra. Where the devil are you? Go and drive the cow in. [Exit NEIGHBOR. MATRYONA (while the NEIGHBOR is within hearing speaks in her ordinary voice). Yes, lass, thank goodness, she's married. At any rate my old fool won't go bothering about Nikita. Now (suddenly changing her tone), she's gone! (Whispers.) I say, did you give him the tea? ANISYA. Don't speak about it. He'd better die of himself. It's no use --he doesn't die, and I have only taken a sin on my soul. O-oh, my head, my head! Oh, why did you give me those powders? MATRYONA. What of the powders? The sleeping powders, lass,--why not give them? No evil can come of them. ANISYA. I am not talking of the sleeping ones, but the others, the white ones. MATRYONA. Well, honey, those powders are medicinal. ANISYA (sighs). I know, yet it's frightening. Though he's worried me to death. MATRYONA. Well, and did you use many? ANISYA. I gave two doses. MATRYONA. Was anything noticeable? ANISYA. I had a taste of the tea myself--just a little bitter. And he drank them with the tea and says, "Even tea disgusts me," and I say, "Everything tastes bitter when one's sick." But I felt that scared, mother. MATRYONA. Don't go thinking about it. The more one thinks the worse it is. ANISYA. I wish you'd never given them to me and led me into sin. When I think of it something seems to tear my heart. Oh, dear, why did you give them to me?