PORTER. I don't know whose it is, Miss; I was ordered to bring it here and receive the money. BETSY. Well, then, wait. MARYA KONSTANTINOVNA. Is it still that costume for the charade? BETSY. Yes, a charming costume. But mamma won't take it or pay for it. MARYA KONSTANTINOVNA. But why not? BETSY. You'd better ask mamma. She doesn't grudge Vovo 500 roubles for his dogs, but 100 is too much for a dress. I can't act dressed like a scarecrow. (Pointing to PEASANTS.) And who are these? GREGORY. Peasants who have come to buy some land or other. BETSY. And I thought they were the beaters. Are you not beaters? FIRST PEASANT. No, no, lady. We have come to see Leonid Fyodoritch about the signing into our possession of the title-deeds to some land. BETSY. Then how is it? Vovo was expecting some beaters who were to come to-day. Are you sure you are not the beaters? (The PEASANTS are silent.) How stupid they are! (Goes to VASILY LEONIDITCH'S door.) Vovo? [Laughs. MARYA KONSTANTINOVNA. But we met him just now upstairs! BETSY. Why need you remember that? Vovo, are you there? [PETRISTCHEF enters. PETRISTCHEF. Vovo is not here, but I am prepared to fulfil on his behalf anything that may be required. How do you do? How do you do, Marya Konstantinovna? [Shakes hands long and violently with BETSY, and then with MARYA KONSTANTINOVNA. SECOND PEASANT. See, it's as if he were pumping water! BETSY. You can't replace him,--still you're better than nobody. (Laughs.) What are these affairs of yours with Vovo? PETRISTCHEF. What affairs? Our affairs are fie-nancial that is, our business is fie! It's also nancial, and besides it is financial. BETSY. What does nancial mean? PETRISTCHEF. What a question! It means nothing, that's just the point. BETSY. No, no, you have missed fire. [Laughs. PETRISTCHEF. One can't always hit the mark, you know. It's something like a lottery. Blanks and blanks again, and at last you win! [THEODORE IVANITCH goes into the study. BETSY. Well, this was blank then; but tell me, were you at the Mergasofs' last night? PETRISTCHEF. Not exactly at the Mere Gasof's, but rather at the Pere Gasof's, or better still, at the Fils Gasof's. BETSY. You can't do without puns. It's an illness. And were the Gypsies there? [3] [Laughs. PETRISTCHEF (sings). "On their aprons silken threads, little birds with golden heads!".... BETSY. Happy mortals! And we were yawning at Fofo's. PETRISTCHEF (continues to sing). "And she promised and she swore, she would ope' her ... her ... her...." how does it go on, Marya Konstantinovna? MARYA KONSTANTINOVNA. "Closet door." PETRISTCHEF. How? What? How, Marya Konstantinovna? BETSY. Cessez, vous devenez impossible! [4] PETRISTCHEF. J'ai cesse, j'ai bebe, j'ai dede....[5] BETSY. I see the only way to rid ourselves of your wit is to make you sing! Let us go into Vovo's room, his guitar is there. Come, Marya Konstantinovna, come!