PETER. Send Nan. Where's she? Oh, I'm that bad! Oh, death's at hand! ANISYA. I've sent for her already. Peter. Oh, dear! Then where is she? ANISYA. Where's she got to, the plague seize her! PETER. Oh, dear! I can't bear it. All my inside's on fire. It's as if a gimlet were boring me. Why have you left me as if I were a dog? ... no one to give me a drink.... Oh ... send Nan to me. ANISYA. Here she is. Nan, go to father. [NAN runs in. ANISYA goes behind the corner of the house. PETER. Go you. Oh ... to Aunt Martha, tell her father wants her; say she's to come, I want her. NAN. All right. PETER. Wait a bit. Tell her she's to come quick. Tell her I'm dying. O--oh! NAN. I'll just get my shawl and be off. [Runs off. MATRYONA (winking). Now, then, mind and look sharp, lass. Go into the hut, hunt about everywhere, like a dog that's hunting for fleas: look under everything, and I'll search him. ANISYA (to MATRYONA). I feel a bit bolder, somehow, now you're here. (Goes up to porch. To PETER.) Hadn't I better light the samovar? Here's Mother Matryona come to see her son; you'll have a cup of tea with her? PETER. Well, then, light it. [ANISYA goes into the house. MATRYONA comes up to the porch. PETER. How do you do? MATRYONA (bowing). How d'you do, my benefactor; how d'you do, my precious ... still ill, I see. And my old man, he's that sorry! "Go," says he, "see how he's getting on." He sends his respects to you. [Bows again. PETER. I'm dying. MATRYONA. Ah, yes, Peter Ignatitch, now I look at you I see, as the saying has it, "Sickness lives where men live." You've shrivelled, shrivelled, all to nothing, poor dear, now I come to look at you. Seems illness does not add to good looks. PETER. My last hour has come. MATRYONA. Oh well, Peter Ignatitch, it's God's will you know, you've had communion, and you'll have unction, God willing. Your missus is a wise woman, the Lord be thanked; she'll give you a good burial, and have prayers said for your soul, all most respectable! And my son, he'll look after things meanwhile. PETER. There'll be no one to manage things! She's not steady. Has her head full of folly--why, I know all about it, I know. And my girl is silly and young. I've got the homestead together, and there's no one to attend to things. One can't help feeling it. [Whimpers. MATRYONA. Why, if it's money, or something, you can leave orders? PETER (to Anisya inside the house). Has Nan gone? MATRYONA (aside). There now, he's remembered! ANISYA (from inside). She went then and there. Come inside, won't you? I'll help you in. PETER. Let me sit here a bit for the last time. The air's so stuffy inside. Oh, how bad I feel! Oh, my heart's burning.... Oh, if death would only come!