ANÍSYA. Shut up with your nonsense. Nikíta, listen to me: if you marry that Marína I don't know what I won't do to myself.... I shall lay hands on myself! I have sinned, I have gone against the law, but I can't go back now. If you go away I'll ... NIKÍTA. Why should I go? Had I wanted to go--I should have gone long ago. There was Iván Semyónitch t'other day--offered me a place as his coachman.... Only fancy what a life that would have been! But I did not go. Because, I reckon, I am good enough for any one. Now if you did not love me it would be a different matter. ANÍSYA. Yes, and that's what you should remember. My old man will die one of these fine days, I'm thinking; then we could cover our sin, make it all right and lawful, and then you'll be master here. NIKÍTA. Where's the good of making plans? What do I care? I work as hard as if I were doing it for myself. My master loves me, and his missus loves me. And if the wenches run after me, it's not my fault, that's flat. ANÍSYA. And you'll love me? NIKÍTA [embracing her] There, as you have ever been in my heart ... MATRYÓNA [enters, and crosses herself a long time before the icón. Nikíta and Anísya step apart] What I saw I didn't perceive, what I heard I didn't hearken to. Playing with the lass, eh? Well,--even a calf will play. Why shouldn't one have some fun when one's young? But your master is out in the yard a-calling you, sonnie. NIKÍTA. I only came to get the axe. MATRYÓNA. I know, sonnie, I know; them sort of axes are mostly to be found where the women are. NIKÍTA [stooping to pick up axe] I say, mother, is it true you want me to marry? As I reckon, that's quite unnecessary. Besides, I've got no wish that way. MATRYÓNA. Eh, honey! why should you marry? Go on as you are. It's all the old man. You'd better go, sonnie, we can talk these matters over without you. NIKÍTA. It's a queer go! One moment I'm to be married, the next, not. I can't make head or tail of it. [Exit]. ANÍSYA. What's it all about then? Do you really wish him to get married? MATRYÓNA. Eh, why should he marry, my jewel? It's all nonsense, all my old man's drivel. "Marry, marry." But he's reckoning without his host. You know the saying, "From oats and hay, why should horses stray?" When you've enough and to spare, why look elsewhere? And so in this case. [Winks] Don't I see which way the wind blows? ANÍSYA. Where's the good of my pretending to you, Mother Matryóna? You know all about it. I have sinned. I love your son.