MITRITCH (comes in at the gate and begins collecting the scattered hay). Oh, Lord! Merciful Nicholas! What a lot of liquor they've been and swilled, and the smell they've made! It smells even out here! But no, I don't want any, drat it! See how they've scattered the hay about. They don't eat it, but only trample it under foot. A truss gone before you know it. Oh, that smell, it seems to be just under my nose! Drat it! (Yawns.) It's time to go to sleep! But I don't care to go into the hut. It seems to float just round my nose! It has a strong scent, the damned stuff! (The guests are heard driving off.) They're off at last. Oh Lord! Merciful Nicholas! There they go, binding themselves and gulling one another. And it's all gammon! [Enter NIKITA. NIKITA. Mitritch, you get off to sleep and I'll put this straight. MITRITCH. All right, you throw it to the sheep. Well, have you seen 'em all off? NIKITA. Yes, they're off! But things are not right! I don't know what to do! MITRITCH. It's a fine mess. But there's the Foundlings'[6] for that sort of thing. Whoever likes may drop one there; they'll take 'em all. Give 'em as many as you like, they ask no questions, and even pay--if the mother goes in as a wet-nurse. It's easy enough nowadays. NIKITA. But mind, Mitritch, don't go blabbing. MITRITCH. It's no concern of mine. Cover the tracks as you think best. Dear me, how you smell of liquor! I'll go in. Oh, Lord! [Exit, yawning. [NIKITA is long silent. Sits down on a sledge. NIKITA. Here's a go! [Enter ANISYA. ANISYA. Where are you? NIKITA. Here. ANISYA. What are you doing there? There's no time to be lost! We must take it out directly! NIKITA. What are we to do? ANISYA. I'll tell you what you are to do. And you'll have to do it! NIKITA. You'd better take it to the Foundlings'--if anything. ANISYA. Then you'd better take it there yourself if you like! You've a hankering for smut, but you're weak when it comes to settling up, I see! NIKITA. What's to be done? ANISYA. Go down into the cellar, I tell you, and dig a hole! NIKITA. Couldn't you manage, somehow, some other way? ANISYA (imitating him). "Some other way?" Seems we can't "some other way!" You should have thought about it a year ago. Do what you're told to! Nikita. Oh, dear, what a go! [Enter NAN. NAN. Mother! Grandmother's calling! I think sister's got a baby! I'm blest if it didn't scream! ANISYA. What are you babbling about? Plague take you! It's kittens whining there. Go into the hut and sleep, or I'll give it you! NAN. Mammy dear, truly, I swear.... ANISYA (raising her arm as if to strike). I'll give it you! You be off and don't let me catch sight of you! (Nan runs into hut. To Nikita.) Do as you're told, or else mind! [Exit.