SCENE I. IN COURTYARD.

(FIRST COACHMAN _sits on cellar steps_. _Enter_ MATRYÒNA.)

_First Coachman_ (_sings, falsetto_).

“In my youth I knew of naught but pleasure, Gold had I to spare and give;— Now my joys are vanished with my treasure, As a wretched slave I live.”

_Matryòna._ The master and mistress have waked up; you might carry in the samovar, Ivànych.

_First C._ Oh! you’re a fine lady, I suppose. Why, you’ve got so fat that one can’t pinch you anywhere; just as if you’d been hammered on an anvil. (_Sings._)

“Who has known a captive’s sorrow? Who shall tell its bitterness?”

_Matryòna._ Talk about me being fat! Why, your own cheeks are blown out like wind-bags! Can’t you take in the samovar when I ask you?

_First C._ Come again to-morrow. (_Sings._)

“In my youth I knew of naught but pleasure, Gold had I to spare and give——”

_Matryòna._ Wait a bit! I’ll tell Oulìta Nikìtishna that you’re an idle fellow, and one never can get you to do anything.

_First C._ I’m the coachman; do you understand that? I have my own work to do. And what are you? A beggarly fine lady! If you go so fine, you’ll freeze your stockings. So you can just carry the samovar yourself.

_Matryòna._ Why, the thing weighs twelve stone, man; how can a girl carry it?

_First C._ All I have to say is—it’s not my business.

_Matryòna._ Then you’re a brazen, shameless fellow! A girl may break her back, for all you care!

(_Lifts samovar with great difficulty, and carries it to gallery, turning her head away from the steam._)

_First C._ (_calls after her_). Don’t romp in your earrings, the gilding will come off!

_Matryòna_ (_going up steps: looks back_). Impertinence! (_Puts samovar on table._)

_First C. (sings)._

“Who has known a captive’s sorrow? Who shall tell its bitterness?”

(_Enter on gallery_ KARP KÀRPYCH _and_ OULÌTA NIKÌTISHNA. COACHMAN _stops singing, and exit_.)