Chapter 30

_The same and_ RAZLYULYÁYEV

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Hello, boys! [_Plays on the accordion and begins to dance_.

GÚSLIN. What a fool! What did you buy that accordion for?

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Why, I bought it to play on, of course--this way. [_Plays_.

GÚSLIN. Well, that's fine music, I must say! Stop, I tell you!

RAZLYULYÁYEV. What! Do you think I'll stop? I'll stop when I want to.--What airs! Haven't I got any money? [_Slapping his pocket_] It chinks! If we go on a spree--then it's some spree!

"One mountain is high, And another is low; One darling is far, And another is near."

Mítya! [_Strikes_ MÍTYA _on the shoulder_] Mítya, why are you sitting still?

MÍTYA. I have some work to do. [_Continues to work_.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Mítya! Say, Mítya, I'm on a spree, my boy! Really, I am. Oh, come on! [_Sings, "One mountain is high," etc_.] Mítya! Say, Mítya, I'm going on a spree for the whole holiday season--then I'll set to work, upon my word I will! Haven't I got any money? There it is! And I'm not drunk.--Oh, no, such a spree!--so jolly!

MÍTYA. Well, go on a spree as much as you like.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. And after the holidays I shall marry!--Upon my word I shall marry! I'll get a rich girl.

GÚSLIN. Now, then, listen; how does this sound?

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Sing it, sing it! I'll listen.

GÚSLIN. [_Sings_]

"Is naught so hard and evil As to be fatherless; Than slavery more grievous And sharper than distress.

All in the world make holiday, But lonely you must pine. Your mind is wild and drunken, But it came not from the wine.

Youth shall not do your pleasure, Beauty no healing bear. Your sweetheart does not comb your locks, But your harsh stepdame, Care."

_During all this time_ RAZLYULYÁYEV _stands as if rooted to the ground, and listens with emotion; when the song is finished all are silent_.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. Good! Very good! It's awfully sad; it takes hold of one's heart. [_Sighs_] Ah, Yasha! play something cheerful; that's enough of this stuff--to-day's a holiday. [_Sings_.

"Who does not love a hussar! Life without love would be sad!"

Play the tune, Yasha.

GÚSLIN _plays the tune_.

MÍTYA. That's enough of your fooling. Come, now, let's sit down in a circle and sing in a low tone.

RAZLYULYÁYEV. All right. [_They sit down_.

GÚSLIN. [_Begins to sing_; MÍTYA _and_ RAZLYULYÁYEV _join in_]

"Now my young, my young lads, You my friends...."

_Enter_ GORDÉY KÁRPYCH; _all stand up and stop singing_.