NIKÍTA. Well, and how's master? MATRYÓNA. Hush, there he sits. [Points to porch]. NIKÍTA. Well, let him sit. What's it to me? PETER [opens his eyes] Nikíta, I say, Nikíta, come here! [Nikíta approaches. Anísya and Matryóna whisper together]. PETER. Why have you come back so early? NIKÍTA. I've finished ploughing. PETER. Have you done the strip beyond the bridge? NIKÍTA. It's too far to go there. PETER. Too far? From here it's still farther. You'll have to go on purpose now. You might have made one job of it. [Anísya, without showing herself, stands and listens]. MATRYÓNA [approaches] Oh, sonnie, why don't you take more pains for your master? Your master is ill and depends on you; you should serve him as you would your own father, straining every muscle just as I always tell you to. PETER. Well then--o-oh!... Get out the seed potatoes, and the women will go and sort them. ANÍSYA [aside] No fear, I'm not going. He's again sending every one away; he must have the money on him now, and wants to hide it somewhere. PETER. Else ... o-oh! when the time comes for planting, they'll all be rotten. Oh, I can't stand it! [Rises]. MATRYÓNA [runs up into the porch and holds Peter up] Shall I help you into the hut? PETER. Help me in. [Stops] Nikíta! NIKÍTA [angrily] What now? PETER. I shan't see you again ... I'll die to-day.... Forgive me,[3] for Christ's sake, forgive me if I have ever sinned against you ... If I have sinned in word or deed ... There's been all sorts of things. Forgive me! [3] A formal request for forgiveness is customary among Russians, but it is often no mere formality. Nikíta's first reply is evasive; his second reply, "God will forgive you," is the correct one sanctioned by custom. NIKÍTA. What's there to forgive? I'm a sinner myself. MATRYÓNA. Ah, sonnie, have some feeling. PETER. Forgive me, for Christ's sake. [Weeps]. NIKÍTA [snivels] God will forgive you, Daddy Peter. I have no cause to complain of you. You've never done me any wrong. You forgive me; maybe I've sinned worse against you. [Weeps]. Peter goes in whimpering, Matryóna supporting him. ANÍSYA. Oh, my poor head! It's not without some reason he's hit on that. [Approaches Nikíta] Why did you say the money was under the floor? It's not there. NIKÍTA [does not answer, but cries] I have never had anything bad from him, nothing but good, and what have I gone and done! ANÍSYA. Enough now! Where's the money? NIKÍTA [angrily] How should I know? Go and look for it yourself! ANÍSYA. What's made you so tender? NIKÍTA. I am sorry for him,--that sorry. How he cried! Oh dear! ANÍSYA. Look at him,--seized with pity! He has found someone to pity too! He's been treating you like a dog, and even just now was giving orders to have you turned out of the house. You'd better show me some pity! NIKÍTA. What are you to be pitied for? ANÍSYA. If he dies, and the money's been hidden away ... NIKÍTA. No fear, he'll not hide it ...