“I am astonished at you, Natalia Dimitrievna!” said the now furious hostess. “As if people forget this sort of thing! Excuse me, Prince, but are you laughing at us, or what are you doing? Are you trying to act one of Dumas’ heroes, or Lauzun or Ferlacourt, or somebody? But, if you will excuse me saying so, you are a good deal too old for that sort of thing, and I assure you, your amiable little play-acting will not do here! My daughter is not a French viscountess! I tell you, this very evening and in this very spot here, my daughter sang a ballad to you, and you, amazed at the beauty of her singing, went down on your knees and made her a proposal of marriage. I am not talking in my sleep, am I? Surely I am wide awake? Speak, Prince, am I asleep, or not?” “Ye—yes, of course, of course—quite so. I don’t know,” said the bewildered old man. “I mean, I don’t think I am drea—ming now; but, a little while ago I _was_ asleep, you see; and while asleep I had this dream, that I——” “Goodness me, Prince, I tell you you were _not_ dreaming. _Not dreaming_, do you hear? _Not_ dreaming! What on earth do you mean? Are you raving, Prince, or what?” “Ye—yes; deuce only knows. I don’t know! It seems to me I’m getting be—wildered,” said the prince, looking around him in a state of considerable mental perturbation. “But, my dear Prince, how can you possibly have _dreamed_ this, when I can tell you all the minutest details of your proposal and of the circumstances attending it? You have not told any of us of these details. How could I possibly have known what you dreamed?” “But, perhaps the prince _did_ tell someone of his dream, in detail,” remarked Natalia Dimitrievna. “Ye—yes, quite so—quite so! Perhaps I did tell someone all about my dream, in detail,” said the now completely lost and bewildered prince. “Here’s a nice comedy!” whispered Felisata Michaelovna to her neighbour. “My goodness me! this is too much for _anybody’s_ patience!” cried Maria Alexandrovna, beside herself with helpless rage. “Do you hear me, Prince? She sang you a ballad—_sang you a ballad_! Surely you didn’t dream that too?” “Certainly—cer—tainly, quite so. It really did seem to me that she sang me a ballad,” murmured the prince; and a ray of recollection seemed to flash across his face. “My friend,” he continued, addressing Mosgliakoff, “I believe I forgot to tell you, there was a ballad sung—a ballad all about castles and knights; and some trou—badour or other came in. Of course, of course, I remember it all quite well. I recoll—ect I did turn over the ballad. It puzzles me much, for now it seems as though I had really heard the ballad, and not dreamt it all.”