The same andGORDÉY KÁRPYCH
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. What's all this screeching! Bawling like so many peasants! [ToMÍTYA] And you here! You're not living here in a peasant's hut! What a dram-shop! See that this sort of thing doesn't go on in the future! [Goes to the table and inspects the papers] Why are these papers all scattered about?
MÍTYA. I was looking over the accounts, sir. GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [Takes the book by Koltsóv, and the copy-book with verses] And this, too, what's this rubbish?
MÍTYA. I was copying these poems of Koltsóv's to pass the time away, since it's a holiday. GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. You are sentimental for a poor lad!
MÍTYA. I just study for my own education, in order to understand things.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Education! Do you know what education is?—And yet you keep on talking! You ought to get yourself a new coat! For when you come up-stairs to us and there are guests, it's a disgrace! What do you do with your money?
MÍTYA. I send it to my mother because she is old and has nowhere to get any.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Send it to your mother! You ought to educate yourself first; God knows what your mother needs! She wasn't brought up in luxury; most likely she used to look after the cows herself.
MÍTYA. It's better that I should suffer than that my mother should be in any want at all.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. This is simply disgusting! If you don't know yourself how to observe decency, then sit in your hovel! If you haven't anything to wear, then don't have any fancies! You write verses, you wish to educate yourself—and you go about looking like a factory hand! Does education consist in this, in singing idiotic songs? You idiot! [Through his teeth and looking askance atMÍTYA] Fool! [Is silent] Don't you dare to show yourself in that suit up-stairs. Listen, I tell you! [ToRAZLYULYÁYEV] And you too! Your father, to all appearances, rakes up money with a shovel, and you go about in this Russian smock.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. What do you say! It's new—French goods—I ordered it from Moscow—from an acquaintance—twenty rubles a yard! Do you think I ought to go about in a bob-tailed coat, like Franz Fédorych at the apothecary's! Why, they all tease him there!—the deuce of a coat! What's the use of making people laugh! GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Much you know! It's hopeless to expect anything of you! You yourself are an idiot, and your father hasn't much more sense—he always goes about in dirty old clothes. You live like ignorant fools, and like fools you will die.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. That's enough!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. What?
RAZLYULYÁYEV. That's enough, I say!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Clown! You don't even know how to talk straight! It's simply waste of words to speak to you—like shooting peas against a wall—to waste words on such as you, fools! [Goes out.
The same withoutTORTSÓV
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Just look! How savage! What a rage he's in! Oh, we're awfully scared of you—you bet we are!
MÍTYA. [ToGÚSLIN] There, that's the sort of life I lead! That's the sort of thing I have to put up with!
RAZLYULYÁYEV. It'll drive you to drink—upon my word, it'll drive you to drink! But you'd better stop thinking about it. [Sings.
"One mountain is high,And another is low;One darling is far,And another is near."
EnterLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, ANNA IVÁNOVNA, MÁSHA,andLÍZA.
The same andLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, ANNA IVÁNOVNA, MÁSHA,andLÍZA.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Peace, honest company!
RAZLYULYÁYEV. I welcome you to our shanty.
MÍTYA. Our respects! Please come in! What good wind brings you here?
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. No wind—we just took it into our heads and came. Gordéy Kárpych has gone out, and Pelagéya Egórovna has gone to lie down, so now we are free! Be as jolly as you please!
MÍTYA. I humbly beg you to sit down.
They sit down; MÍTYAseats himself oppositeLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA; RAZLYULYÁYEVwalks about.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. It grew dull sitting silent cracking nuts. "Come on, girls," said I, "and see the boys," and that suited the girls.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. What stories you do make up! We never thought of coming here—that was your idea.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Much you didn't! You were the first! Everybody knows, if a person wants a thing, then he thinks about it; the boys of the girls, and the girls of the boys.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Ha, ha, ha! Anna Ivánovna, you have said it exactly.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Not a bit of it!
MÁSHA. [ToLÍZA] Oh, how embarrassing!
LÍZA. Anna Ivánovna, you are just saying what isn't true.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Oh, you modest thing! I'd like to say a word—but it wouldn't be nice before the boys!—I've been a girl myself. I know all about it.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. There are girls and girls!
MÁSHA. Oh, how embarrassing!
LÍZA. What you say sounds very strange to us, and, I must say, it's disconcerting.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Ha, ha, ha!
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. What were we talking about just now up-stairs? Do you want me to tell? Shall I tell them? Well, have you calmed down now?
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Ha, ha, ha!
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. What areyouopening your mouth for? It wasn't about you—don't you worry.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Even if it wasn't about me, still it may be there is some one who thinks about me. I know what I know! [Dances to a tune.
"Who does not love a hussar!Life without love would be sad!"
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. [Walking towardsGÚSLIN] Well, guitar player, when will you marry me?
GÚSLIN. [Playing on the guitar] When I can get permission from Gordéy Kárpych. What's the use of hurrying! It isn't raining on us! [Nods his head] Come along here, Anna Ivánovna; I've got something to say to you.
She goes to him, and sits near him; he whispers in her ear, looking towardsLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAandMÍTYA.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. What do you say!—Really?
GÚSLIN. It's really true.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Well, then, all right; keep quiet! [They talk in a whisper.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. You, Mítya, will you come to us later on in the evening?
MÍTYA. I will.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. And I'm coming; I'm good at dancing. [Stands with arms akimbo] Girls! do fall in love with me, one of you!
MÁSHA. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! What's that you're saying?
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Why such airs! I say, fall in love with me, somebody—yes—for my simplicity.
LÍZA. People don't talk like that to girls. You ought to wait till they do fall in love with you.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Yes, much I'll get from you by waiting! [Dances
"Who does not love a hussar!"
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Looking atMÍTYA] It may be somebody loves somebody and won't tell! He must guess himself.
LÍZA. How can any girl in the world say that!
MÁSHA. I know it!
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. [Goes up to them and looks now atLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAand now atMÍTYAand sings:
"Already it is seenIf somebody loves somebody—Opposite the beloved one she seats herselfHeavily sighing."
MÍTYA. Who does that apply to?
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. We know to whom.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Stay, girls, I'll sing you a song.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Sing, sing!
RAZLYULYÁYEV. [Sings slowly]
"A bear was flying through the sky."
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Don't you know anything worse than that!
LÍZA. We might think you were making fun of us.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. If this isn't good enough I'll sing you another, for I'm a jolly fellow. [Sings.
"Beat! Beat! upon the board.Moscow! Moscow! that's the word.Moscow's got it in his headThat Kolomna he will wed.Tula laughs with all his heart.But with the dowry will not part.Buckwheat is tuppence. It's twenty for oats.Millet is sixpence and barley three groats.[Turns towards the girls.If only oats would but come down!It's costly carting 'em to town."
See! What weather!
MÁSHA. This doesn't concern us.
LÍZA. We don't trade in flour.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. What are you interrupting for! Just guess this riddle.What's this: round—but not a girl; with a tail—but not a mouse?[1]
[Footnote 1: A turnip.]
RAZLYULYÁYEV. That's a hard one!
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Indeed it is!—You just think it over! Now, girls, come along! [The girls rise and get ready to go] Come along, boys!
GÚSLINandRAZLYULYÁYEVget ready.
MÍTYA. But I'll come later. I'll put things to rights here first.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. [Sings while they are getting ready]
"Our maids last night,Our pretties last night,They brewed us a brew of the beer last night.And there came to our maids,And there came to our prettiesA guest, a guest whom they didn't invite."
ANNA IVÁNOVNAlets them all pass through the door, exceptLYUBÓVGORDÉYEVNA;she shuts the door and does not allow her to pass.
MÍTYAandLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [At the door] Stop, don't be silly! [Through the door the girls are heard laughing] They won't let me out! Oh, what girls! [Walks away from the door] They're always up to something.
MÍTYA. [Hands her a chair] Be seated, Lyubóv Gordéyevna, and talk to me for just a moment. I'm very glad to see you in my room.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Why are you glad? I don't understand.
MÍTYA. Oh, why!—It is very pleasant for me to see on your side such consideration; it is above my deserts to receive it from you. This is the second time I have had the good fortune—
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. There's nothing in that! I came here, sat awhile, and went away again. That means nothing. Maybe I'll go away again at once.
MÍTYA. Oh, no! Don't go!—Why should you! [Takes the paper out of his pocket] Permit me to present to you my work, the best I can do—from my heart.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. What is this?
MÍTYA. I made these verses just for you.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Trying to hide her joy] Still, it may be just some sort of foolishness—not worth reading.
MÍTYA. That I cannot judge, because I wrote it myself, and without studying besides.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Read it.
MÍTYA. Directly.
Seats himself at the table, and takes the paper: LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAapproaches very near to him.
"In the meadow no grasses wither,And never a flower doth fade;However a fair lad fadethThat once was a lusty blade.
He loved a handsome damsel;For that his grief is great,And heavy his misfortune,For she came of high estate.
The lad's heart is breaking,But vain his grief must be,Because he loved a damselAbove his own degree.
When all the night is darkenedThe sun may not appear;And so the pretty maiden.She may not be his dear."
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Sitting and reflecting for some time] Give it here. [Takes the paper and hides it, then rises] Now I will write something for you.
MÍTYA. You!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Only I don't know how to do it in verse, but—just plainRussian.
MÍTYA. I shall regard such a kindness from you as a great happiness to myself. [Gives her paper and pen] Here they are.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. It's a great pity that I write so abominably. [She writes; MÍTYAtries to look] Only don't you look, or I'll stop writing and tear it up.
MÍTYA. I won't look. But kindly condescend to permit me to reply, in so far as I am able, and to write some verses for you on a second occasion.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Laying down the pen] Write if you wish—only I've inked all my fingers; if I'd only known, I'd better not have written.
MÍTYA. May I have it?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Well, take it; only don't dare to read it while I'm here, but after, when I've gone.
Folds together the paper and gives it to him; he conceals it in his pocket.
MÍTYA. It shall be as you wish.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Rises] Will you come up-stairs to us?
MÍTYA. I will—this minute.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Good-by.
MÍTYA. To our pleasant meeting!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAgoes to the door; from the doorwayLYUBÍM KÁRPYCHcomes in.
The same andLYUBÍM KÁRPYCH
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Ah!
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. [Looking atLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA] Wait! What sort of a creature is this? On what pretext? On what business? We must consider this matter.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Is it you, uncle!
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Oh, it's I, niece! What? You got a fright? Clear out, never mind! I'm not the man to tell tales. I'll put it in a box, and think it over after, all in my spare time.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Good-by. [Goes out.
MÍTYAandLYUBÍM KÁRPYCH
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Mítya, receive unto thyself Lyubím Kárpych TORTSÓV, the brother of a wealthy merchant.
MÍTYA. You are welcome.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. [Sits down] My brother turned me out! And in the street, in a coat like this—one has to dance about a bit! The frost—at Christmas time—brrr!—My hands are frozen, and my feet nipped—brrr!
MÍTYA. Warm yourself up, Lyubím Kárpych.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. You will not drive me away, Mítya? If you do, I'll freeze in the yard—I'll freeze like a dog.
MÍTYA. How could I? What are you saying?
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. You see, Mítya, my brother turned me out. As long as I had a little money, I strolled about in warm places; now I have no money, and they won't let me come in anywhere. All I had was two francs and some-odd centimes! Not a great capital! It wouldn't build a stone house! It wouldn't buy a village! What could one do with such a capital? Where put it? Not take it to a bank! So then I took this capital and drank it up!—squandered it!—That's the way of it!
MÍTYA. Why do you drink, Lyubím Kárpych? That makes you your own enemy.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Why do I drink? From stupidity! Yes, from my own stupidity.Why did you think I drank?
MÍTYA. You'd better stop it.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. It's impossible to stop; I've got started on this track.
MÍTYA. What track?
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Ah, well, listen—you're a kind soul—what this track was. Only, you listen, take note of it. I was left when my father died, just a kid, tall as a bean pole, a little fool of twenty. The wind whistled through my head like an empty garret! My brother and I divided up things: he took the factory himself, and gave me my share in money, drafts and promissory notes. Well, now, how he divided with me is not our business—God be his judge! Well, then I went to Moscow to get money on the drafts. I had to go! One must see people and show oneself, and learn good manners. Then again, I was such a handsome young man, and I'd never seen the world, or spent the night in a private house. I felt I must try everything! First thing, I got myself dressed like a dandy. "Know our people!" says I. That is, I played the fool to a rarity! Of course, I started to visit all the taverns: "Schpeelen sie polka! Give us a bottle off the ice!" I got together enough friends to fill a pond! I went to the theatres—
MÍTYA. Well, Lyubím Kárpych, it must be very nice in the theatre.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. I kept going to see the tragedies; I liked them very much, only I didn't see anything decently, and I didn't understand anything because I was nearly always drunk. [Rises] "Drink beneath the dagger of Prokóp Lyapunóv." [Sits down] By this sort of life I soon squandered all my money; what was left I intrusted to my friend Afrikán Kórshunov, on his oath and word of honor; with him I had drunk and gone on sprees, he was responsible for all my folly, he was the chief mixer of the mash! He fooled me and showed me up, and I was stuck like a crab on a sand bank. I had nothing to drink, and I was thirsty—what was to be done? Where could I go to drown my misery? I sold my clothes, all my fashionable things; got pay in bank-notes, and changed them for silver, the silver for copper, and then everything went and all was over.
MÍTYA. How did you live, Lyubím Kárpych?
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. How did I live? May God never give such a life to a Tatar! I lived in roomy lodgings, between heaven and earth, with no walls and no ceiling. I was ashamed to see people. I hid from the world; and yet you have to go out into God's world, for you have nothing to eat. You go along the street, and everybody looks at you.—Every one had seen what a life I used to lead, how I rattled through the town in a first-class cab, and now went about tattered and torn and unshaven. They shook their heads and away they went. Shame, shame, shame! [Sits and hangs his head] There is a good business—a trade which pays—to steal. But this business didn't suit me—I had a conscience, and again I was afraid: no one approves of this business.
MÍTYA. That's a last resort.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. They say in other countries they pay you thalers and thalers for this, but in our country good people punch your head for it. No, my boy, to steal is abominable! That's an old trick, we'll have to give it up! But, you see, hunger isn't a kind old aunty, and you have to do something! I began to go about the town as a buffoon, to get money, a kopek at a time, to make a fool of myself, to tell funny stories, and play all sorts of tricks. Often you shiver from early morn till night in the town streets; you hide somewhere behind the corner away from people, and wait for merchants. When one comes—especially if he is rather rich—you jump out and do some trick, and one gives you five kopeks, and another ten: with that you take breath for a day and so exist.
MÍTYA. It would have been better, Lyubím Kárpych, to go to your brother, than to live like that.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. It was impossible; I'd been drawn in. Oh, Mítya, you get into this groove, and it isn't easy to get out again. Don't interrupt! You'll have a chance later. Well, then, listen! I caught cold in the town—it was winter; I stood in the cold, smartly dressed, in this coat! I was blowing on my fingers and jumping from foot to foot. Good people carried me to the hospital. When I began to get better and come to my senses, my drunken spell was over. Dread came over me! Horror seized me! How had I lived? What had I done? I began to feel melancholy; yes, such melancholy that it seemed better to die. And so I decided that when I got quite well, I would go on a pilgrimage, then go to my brother, and let him take me as a porter. This I did. I threw myself plump at his feet! "Be a father to me!" says I, "I have lived abominably—now I wish to reform." And do you know how my brother received me! He was ashamed, you see, that he had such a brother. "But you help me out," I said to him, "correct me, be kind to me, and I will be a man." "Not at all," says he, "where can I put you when important guests, rich merchants, and gentry come to see me? You'll be the death of me," says he! "With my feelings and intellect," says he, "I ought not to have been born in this family at all. See how I live," says he; "who'd ever guess that our father was a peasant! For me," says he, "this disgrace is enough, and then you must come and obtrude yourself again." He overwhelmed me as with thunder! After these words I went from bad to worse. "Oh, well," I thought, "deuce take him! He is very thick here. [Points to his forehead] He needs a lesson, the fool. Riches are no use to fools like us; they spoil us. You need to know how to manage money." [Dozes off] Mítya, I'll lie down here; I want to take a nap.
MÍTYA. Do lie down, Lyubím Kárpych.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Mítya, don't give me any money—that is, don't give me much; just give me a little. I'll take a nap here, and then go and warm myself a little, you understand! I only need a little—no, no! Don't be foolish!
MÍTYA. [Taking out money] Here, take as much as you need.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. I need ten kopeks. This is all silver; I don't need silver. Give me two kopeks more, that will be just right. [MÍTYAgives them] That's enough. You have a good heart, Mítya! [Lies down] My brother doesn't know how to appreciate you. Yes, I'll play a joke on him! For fools riches are an evil! Give money to a sensible man, and he'll do something with it. I walked about Moscow, I saw everything, everything!—I've been through a long course of study! You'd better not give money to a fool; he'll only go smash! Foh, foh, foh, brr! just like brother and like me, the brute! [In a voice half asleep] Mítya, I will come and spend the night with you.
MÍTYA. Come on. The office is empty now—it's a holiday.
LYUBÍM KÁRPYCH. Oh, but I'll play a funny joke on brother. [Falls asleep.
MÍTYA. [Walks towards the door and takes the letter out of his pocket] What can she have written? I'm frightened!—My hands tremble!—Well, what is to be will be! I'll read it. [Reads] "And I love you. Lyubóv Tortsóv." [Clutches his head and runs out.
Guest-room in the house ofTORTSÓV.Against the rear wall a sofa, in front of the sofa a round table and six armchairs, three on each side; in the left corner a door; on each wall a mirror, and under them little tables. A door in each side wall, and a door in the rear wall in the corner. On the stage it is dark; from the left door comes a light.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAandANNA IVÁNOVNAenter through the lighted door.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Why don't they come, our fine lads? Shall we go and fetch them?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. No, you'd better not. Well, yes, if you like, fetch them. [Embraces her] Fetch them, Annushka.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Well, evidently you aren't happy without him!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Oh, Annushka, if you only knew how I love him!
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Love him, then, my dear, but don't lose your wits. Don't let him go too far, or you may be sorry for it. Be sure you find out first what sort of a fellow he is.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. He's a good lad!—I love him very much; he's so quiet, and he's an orphan.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Well, if he's good, then love him; you ought to know best. I just said that! Many a girl comes to grief because of them. It's easy to get into trouble, if you don't use your sense.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. What is our love? Like a blade of grass in the field; it blooms out of season—and it fades.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Wait a moment! Some one's coming, I think. Isn't it he? I'll go and you wait, perhaps it's he! Have a good talk with him. [She goes out.
MÍTYAenters.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAandMÍTYA
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Who's there?
MÍTYA. It's I, Mítya.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Why were you so long in coming?
MÍTYA. I was detained. [Approaches] Lyubóv Gordéyevna, are you alone?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Yes, what of it?
MÍTYA. Lyubóv Gordéyevna, how do you wish me to understand your letter? Do you mean it, or is it a joke? [LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAis silent] Tell me, Lyubóv Gordéyevna! I am now in such perplexity that I cannot express it to you. My position in your house is known to you; subordinate to everybody, and I may say utterly despised by Gordéy Kárpych. I've had only one feeling, that for you, and if I receive ridicule from you, then it would have been better for me never to have lived in this world. You may trust me! I am telling you the truth.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. No, Mítya dear, what I wrote to you was the truth, and not a joke. And you, do you love me?
MÍTYA. Indeed, Lyubóv Gordéyevna, I do not know how to express to you what I feel. But at least let me assure you that I have a heart in my breast, and not a stone. You can see my love from everything.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. But I thought that you loved Anna Ivánovna.
MÍTYA. That is not true!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Really, they told me so.
MÍTYA. If this were true, then what sort of a man should I be after acting as I have? Could I declare with words what my heart does not feel! I think such a thing would be dishonorable! I may not be worth your regard, but I'm not the man to deceive you.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. It is impossible to believe you men; all men in the world are deceivers.
MÍTYA. Let them be deceivers, but I am not.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. How can one know! Perhaps you also are deceiving me and want to play a joke on me!
MÍTYA. It would be easier for me to die in this place than to hear such words from you! [Turns away.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. No, Mítya, I didn't mean it. I know that you love me. I only wanted to tease you. [MÍTYAis silent] Mítya dear! Mítya! Why are you silent? Are you angry with me? I tell you I was only joking! Mítya! Yes! Now, then, say something. [Takes his hand.
MÍTYA. Oh, Lyubóv Gordéyevna, I'm not in a joking humor! I'm not that sort of man.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Don't be angry.
MÍTYA. If you love me, then stop these jokes! They are not in place. Oh, it's all the same to me now! [Embraces her] Maybe they can take you from me by force, but I won't give you up of my free will. I love you more than my life!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Returning his embrace] Mítya dear, what shall we do now?
MÍTYA. What shall we do? We didn't fall in love with each other just to say good-by!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Well, but what if they promise me to some one else?
MÍTYA. Look here, Lyubóv, one word! To-morrow we must go together to Gordéy Kárpych, and throw ourselves at his feet. We'll say so and so—whatever you please, but we can't live without each other. Yes, if you love me, then forget your pride!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. What pride, Mítya? Is this a time for pride! Mítya dear, don't be angry with me; don't remember my past words. It was only girlish foolishness; I'm sorry that I did it! I shouldn't have joked with you; I should have caressed you, my poor boy. [Throws her arms round his neck] Oh, but, if father doesn't consent to our happiness—what then?
MÍTYA. Who can tell beforehand? It will be as God wills. I don't know how it is with you, but for me life is not life without you! [Is silent.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Some one's coming! Go away quietly, dearest, and I'll come later.
MÍTYAgoes out quietly. ARÍNAcomes in with a candle; LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAgoes to meet her.
ARÍNA, LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA,and afterwardsEGÓRUSHKA
ARÍNA. Well, you! You frightened me enough! What are you doing here? Your mother is looking for you there, and here you are! Why are you wandering about in the dark! Oh, you modest maiden! Fairy princess. [LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAgoes out] Well, really, wasn't some one there with her? [Looks into the corner] But I'm a silly old woman, I suspected some one! [Lights the candles] Oh, deary me, some trouble will be sure to come in my old age. [EGÓRUSHKAenters] Go along, Egórushka, and call the girls in from the neighbors; tell them Pelagéya Egórovna told you to invite them to come and sing songs.
EGÓRUSHKA. Oh! how are you, Arína, my dear?
ARÍNA. What are you so happy about, silly?
EGÓRUSHKA. Why shouldn't I be happy? It's such fun! Ha, ha, ha! [Jumps about.
ARÍNA. And maybe the mummers are coming; the young people wanted to dress up.
EGÓRUSHKA. Oh, I shall die! Oh, Lord, I shall die!
ARÍNA. What's the matter with you, you scamp?
EGÓRUSHKA. Oh, I shall die of laughing! Oh, granny, I've got such giggles!
ARÍNA. Dress up yourself.
EGÓRUSHKA. I will, I will! Oh, Lord! Oh, Oh, Oh.
ARÍNA. Now you run along quickly and fetch the girls.
EGÓRUSHKA. In a second! [Goes out.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNAcomes in.
ARÍNAandPELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Arinushka, did you send for the girls?
ARÍNA. I did, my dear.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. That's right. Let them have a song with our folks, and cheer up Lyubóv and the guests. This is the time for them to enjoy themselves—while they're young. You know what a girl's life is—behind bolts and bars, never seeing the world! Now's their holiday!—Yes, let 'em have a good time!
ARÍNA. Yes, to be sure, to be sure! Why shouldn't they?
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Bring in some Madeira, Arinushka, the oldest we have; and gingerbread for the young people, and sweets—whatever you choose! Attend to it yourself, but don't forget the Madeira.
ARÍNA. I understand, I understand; there'll be enough of everything.Directly, my dear, directly!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. And a snack for the young men.
ARÍNA. Everything, everything will be all right. Don't you worry yourself; you join the guests. I'll do everything with pleasure. [Goes out.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. [Going to the door] Girls, boys, come here! There's more room here and it's lighter.
EnterLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, MÁSHA, LÍZA, ANNA IVÁNOVNA, RAZLYULYÁYEV, MÍTYA, GÚSLIN,and twoGUESTS.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA, LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, MÁSHA, LÍZA, ANNA IVÁNOVNA,RAZLYULYÁYEV, MÍTYA, GÚSLIN,and twoGUESTS(old women).
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. [To the old women] We'll sit here. [Seats herself on the sofa, with the old women near her;ANNA IVÁNOVNAandGÚSLINtake chairs and talk quietly;MÍTYAstands near them;MÁSHA, LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA,andLÍZAwalk about the room with their arms round each other;RAZLYULYÁYEVfollows them] We'll watch them while they play.
LÍZA. "Just imagine, mother!" I said, "he doesn't know how to talk properly, and he even uses such words that it's absolutely impolite."
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Do you mean me?
LÍZA. We aren't talking about you; it's no business of yours. [She continues] "But why, mother, must I love him?" [Speaks in a whisper.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, my friend, I love the good old ways. Yes, our good old Russian ways. But there! my husband doesn't care for them! What can you do about it? That's his character. But I love them, I'm naturally jolly; yes, I love to give a person a bite and to get them to sing songs to me! Yes, I take after my family. Our family are all jolly, and love singing.
FIRST GUEST. When I look round, my dear Pelagéya Egórovna, there isn't the gayety that there used to be when we were young.
SECOND GUEST. No, no.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. In my young days I was the merriest sort of girl—always singing and dancing—-indeed I was. Yes, what songs I knew! They don't sing such songs now.
FIRST GUEST. No, they don't sing them; new songs have come in now.
SECOND GUEST. Yes, yes, one remembers the old times.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yasha dear! Sing us some good old songs.
GÚSLINtakes the guitar.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. [To the girls] So it's no use for me to wait; evidently I shan't get any sense out of you.
LÍZA. What do you mean by sense? I don't understand.
MÁSHA. It's ridiculous to listen to you.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Yes, it's funny for you; but how is it for me? Really, why don't you love me?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Let's sit down.
They sit down.
GÚSLIN. [Sings]
"Four huts beside the brookThat swift doth run.There is a gossipIn every one.
Dear gossips all four,My friends that be,Be friendly and kindlyAnd nice to me.
When you're in the green garden,Take me with you;When you pluck flowers,Pluck me a few.
When you weave garlands,Weave me some too;When you go to the river,Take me with you.
When you throw in the garlands,Throw also my wreath;The others will float,When mine sinks beneath.
All of the sweethearts,They have come home;Mine, and mine only,He has not come."
ARÍNA. [Enters with bottles and glasses; and a servant-girl with relishes] Here, I've brought them!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. [To the servant] Pass it to the young ladies. [The servant carries wine round to the girls, places the tray on the table and goes out] Arína! Bring us some wine. Yes, pour it out, pour out the Madeira, the Madeira; it will cheer us up. That's all right! Let's have a glass; they won't condemn us—we're old folks! [They drink] Annushka! Come along and drink some wine. Won't you have some?
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Well, why shouldn't I drink some! They say, don't drink when there's no one round, but when there's company, it's all right.
Goes toPELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA,drinks and talks in a whisper.
ARÍNA. Have you had a drop too much, my boys?
MÍTYA. I don't drink.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. With pleasure! [He comes up withGÚSLINand drinks; then catches hold ofARÍNA] Now, then, let's start an old song. [Sings.
"Oh, I'll sing an old song,Of Eréma, of Fomá—"
ARÍNA. Stop, saucy; you've crumpled me all up!
RAZLYULYÁYEV. [Sings]
"The reins were in Kalúga;In Tarús' the hames were hid.Grooved runners had the sleigh;All by itself it slid."
The girls laugh.
ARÍNA. Let me go, I say! Now that's enough! [Goes out.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. What are you teasing the old woman for? Come and dance with me.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Come on, then! Play for us, Yasha!
YÁSHAplays; they dance.
FIRST GUEST. That's a lively little woman.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, very lively, very lively.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. [Stamping his feet] That's the way we do it. [Stops dancing.
EGÓRUSHKA. [Enters] The girls have come.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Ask them in. [EGÓRUSHKAgoes out; the girls come in.ARÍNAbrings in a dish and covers it] Sit down and sing the dish songs;I'm so fond of them.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, MÁSHA, LÍZA,andANNA IVÁNOVNAtake off their rings and put them into the dish; the girls sing.
"Sow the wheat, my mother, and bake the cake for me.Glory!Many guests are coming, my lovers for to be. Glory!
Your guests will wear bast slippers, but mine have bootsof hide. Glory!The girl of whom the song is sung, much good it doth betide.Glory!
The girl whose ring is taken out, will find it so without adoubt. Glory!"
RAZLYULYÁYEVrolls up his sleeves, takes out a ring and gives it toLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. High time, high time!
GIRLS. [Sing]
"In Bélgorod a sparrow small, Glory!In Bélgorod sits on a wall. Glory!
In a strange land he looks about. Glory!Her ring and fortune will come out. Glory!"
ARÍNA. [Enters] The mummers have come; shall I let them in?
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, let them in; let them have a dance. And you girls can sing afterwards.
The same and mummers; anOLD MANwith a balalaika or guitar, aTRAINERwith a bear and goat, EGÓRUSHKAwith molasses.
OLD MAN. [Bowing] To all this honest company, greeting!
TRAINER. Make a bow, Mishka! [The bear bows.
OLD MAN. Do you wish me to sing and dance and amuse you, and to limber up my old bones?
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. That's all right; yes, dance! Give them some wine,Arinushka.
ARÍNAserves the wine; some of them drink.
OLD MAN. Thank you humbly for your kind words, and for the entertainment. [Sings.
"Our lads, though stripped unto the buff,Even so are bold enough.Their twelve hands go weaving on;Now the web of cloth is done.They made kaftans for us here;Kaftans do not cost you dearWhen you've grist within your hopper.In our purses silver brightWill not let us sleep at night.And the jingling coins of copperFor the tavern raise the call.Tapster Andrew, quick undoThe inn-door. We've a kaftan newHere to put in pawn with you;We won't take it home at all."
[Goes to one side.
EGÓRUSHKA. [Dances with the molasses]
"Molasses! Molasses!It simmers so sweet.Oh, winter is bitter,The frost and the sleet.Stormy and snowy, oh, ways choked with snow,Unto my darling there's no way to go.
Molasses! Molasses!It simmers so sweet.Like a little quail my wifeSits on her seat.And I love her for this, and her praises I tell,For she jaunts on so prettily, proudly and well."
[Bows.
FIRST GUEST. Oh, what a fine boy! Ah!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Why, yes, my friend, he's still a child; but he does the best he can. He's young yet. Come here, Egórushka. [EGÓRUSHKAcomes] Here's some gingerbread for you. [Gives it to him; EGÓRUSHKAbows and goes out] Yes, he's still a child; you can't expect much from him!
TheTRAINEEleads the bear; the goat dances.
OLD MAN. [Sings]
"We had a little billy-goat,And he was clever, too;He carried in the water,And set the mush to brew.
He fed Grandpa and Grandma;But when he went one dayTo the dark forest seven wolvesIn waiting for him lay.
And one of them was hungry,And many and many a yearHad he roamed, forever askingFor goat's meat far and near."
TRAINER. [To the bear] Ask for wine, in honor of the goat. [Bear bows.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Arinushka, bring some refreshments for the mummers.
ARÍNAbrings them something to drink; they drink and bow.
TRAINER. Now, then, amuse the honorable company. Show how the fair young darlings, the fair young girls, pale and rosy ones, glance at the young men, and watch their suitors. [Bear shows off] And how the old woman goes to work, bending, shrivelled; old age has overcome her, the years have broken her down. [Bear shows off] Well, now bow to the honorable company.[1]
[Footnote 1: Ostróvsky is of course reproducing actual Christmas customs. Count Ilya Tolstoy, in hisReminiscences of Tolstoy, tells how his father played the part of the bear at the family Christmas party.]
They go out; theOLD MANplays the guitar; the other mummers dance; all watch them. GÚSLINandMÍTYAstand nearLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA; MÍTYAwhispers something to her, and kisses her. RAZLYULYÁYEVcomes up.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. What are you doing?
MÍTYA. What's that to you?
RAZLYULYÁYEV. I'll tell Pelagéya Egórovna; just see if I don't!
MÍTYA. You just dare to tell!
GÚSLIN. [Approaching him] Look out for me! You see we'll go away from here together; it'll be dark and the alley is lonely—just remember that!
RAZLYULYÁYEV. What are you meddling with me for? What's the use? I want to marry her, and I'm going to make proposals. What are you up to! Yes, I mean to marry her!
MÍTYA. We'll see about that.
RAZLYULYÁYEV. Do you think they'll marry her to you? Not much! Not if I know it—I've got lots of money!
ARÍNA. What a racket! Stop! Some one seems to be knocking. [All listen]That's true! They are knocking.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Go and open the door.
ARÍNA. [Goes out, then returns] He's come back himself!All rise.
The same withGORDÉY KÁRPYCHandKÓRSHUNOV
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [To the mummers] What's this rabble!—Get out! [To his wife] Wife! Pelagéya Egórovna! Greet my guest. [Speaks in a low voice] You've ruined me!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. You are welcome, Afrikán Savvich, you are welcome.
KÓRSHUNOV. Good evening, Pelagéya Egórovna. He, he, he! It's very cheerful here! We've struck it just at the right time.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, here I am with the girls. Yes, I'm always with the girls. It's holiday time; I want to give my daughter some fun.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. You are welcome, Afrikán Savvich; make yourself at home.[AFRIKÁN SÁVVICHseats himself in the armchair at the table. To his wife]Turn the hussies out.
KÓRSHUNOV. Why turn them out! Who's going to turn the girls out. He, he, he! They'll sing a song, and we'll listen and watch them, and we'll give them some money, but not turn them out.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. As you wish, Afrikán Savvich! Only I am abashed before you! But don't conclude from this that we are all uneducated—this is all the wife; nothing can knock anything into her head. [To his wife] How many times have I told you: if you want to have a party in the evening, call in the musicians, and have things in good form. You can't say I deny you anything.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Well, what's the use of musicians—for us old women?Youcan amuse yourself with them!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. There, that's the idea of life she has! It makes you laugh to hear her.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. What do you mean?Idea, idea! It would be better for you to give your guest something to eat. Would you like something, Afrikán Savvich? Some wine with us old women? [Pours out Madeira.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [Severely] Wife! Have you really gone out of your mind! Hasn't Afrikán Savvich ever seen Madeira before! Order champagne—a half dozen—and be quick about it! Then order lighted candles in the reception-room where the new furniture is. That will give quite another effect.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. I will do it myself at once. [RisesArinushka, come on. Excuse me, my dear neighbors.
FIRST GUEST. We will come with you, my dear; it's time we were going home.
SECOND GUEST. It's time, it's time! The nights are dark, and the dogs in the lanes are fierce.
FIRST GUEST. Yes, fierce; very fierce! [They bow and go out.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH, KÓRSHUNOV, LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, ANNA IVÁNOVNA, MÁSHA, LÍZA,girls, MÍTYA, GÚSLIN,andRAZLYULYÁYEV.
KÓRSHUNOV. Let's join the young ladies. Where did you pick up such beauties—he, he! [Walks towardsLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA] Good evening, Lyubóv Gordéyevna, my beauty. [LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAbows] May I join your company?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. We don't drive any one away.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Be seated; you'll be our guest.
KÓRSHUNOV. You're pretty chilly to the old man! It's Christmas time now, and I suppose we may exchange kisses.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Why be so affectionate?
KÓRSHUNOV. Gordéy Kárpych, may I kiss your daughter? And I must confess—he, he—I'm fond of this sort of thing. Yes, well, who doesn't like it! He, he!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. You're welcome to do so; don't stand on ceremony.
KÓRSHUNOV. Will you give me a kiss, young lady?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. If my father wants me to. [They exchange kisses.
KÓRSHUNOV. Well now, every one of them, right down the line.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. I suppose so! I'm not proud.
MÁSHA. Oh, how embarrassing!
LÍZA. Well, there's nothing to be said; I must say it's a treat!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [Going up toMÍTYA] Why are you here? Is this your place?"The crow has flown into the lofty palace!"
MÍTYA, GÚSLINandRAZLYULYÁYEVgo out.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH, KÓRSHUNOV, LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA, ANNA IVÁNOVNA, MÁSHA, LÍZAand girls.
KÓRSHUNOV. [Seats himself nearLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA] I'm not like you, Lyubóv Gordéyevna; you didn't even want to kiss me, he, he, he! And I've brought you a little present.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. You needn't have taken the trouble.
KÓRSHUNOV. Here I've brought you some diamonds, he, he! [Gives them to her.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Oh, they're earrings! I thank you humbly.
ANNA IVÁNOVNA. Show them to us.
MÁSHA. But they are charming!
LÍZA. And in such good taste!
KÓRSHUNOV. Give me your hand. [Takes it and kisses it] You see, I like you very much, he, he, he! I like you very much; well, but you don't like me, I suppose?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Why shouldn't I like you?
KÓRSHUNOV. Why? You like some one else, that's why. But you will come to love me! I'm a good man—a jolly man, he, he, he!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. I don't know what you are talking about.
KÓRSHUNOV. I say, you will come to love me. Why not? I'm not old yet. [Looks at her] Am I an old man? He, he, he! Well, well, there's no harm in that. To make up for it you shall wear cloth of gold. I haven't any money! I'm a poor man. I've only got about five hundred thousand, he, he, he! In silver! [Takes her hand.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Rising] I don't need your money.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Lyubóv, where are you going?
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. To mother!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Wait! She'll come here.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAsits down.
KÓRSHUNOV. You don't want to sit by the old man? Give me your hand, young lady; I will kiss it.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Gives her hand] Oh, good heavens!
KÓRSHUNOV. What a hand! He, he, he! Like velvet! [Strokes her hand, and then puts on a diamond ring.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Freeing her hand] Oh, let me go! I don't want it; I don't want it!
KÓRSHUNOV. That's all right; it's no loss to me—it won't ruin me.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. But I don't want it. Give it to whomever you like. [Takes it off and returns it.
KÓRSHUNOV. I gave it to you, and I won't take it back! He, he, he!
EnterPELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA,and after her,ARÍNAandEGÓRUSHKAwith wine and glasses.
The same withPELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA, ARÍNA,andEGÓRUSHKA
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Come now and have a drink.
KÓRSHUNOV. All right, Gordéy Kárpych, give me something to drink. And you girls, sing a song in my honor—I love to have respect shown me.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Girls, sing a song for him.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [Uncorks the bottle, pours out champagne, and offers it to him] To our dear friend Afrikán Savvich! Make a bow, wife!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. If you please, Afrikán Savvich, I humbly beg you.
KÓRSHUNOVtakes the glass.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. [Takes the glass] Wife, drink!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Oh, somehow I don't like this kind of wine! Well, yes!I'll take just a glass.
GIRLS. [Sing] "Ah, who is he, our bachelor,And who is still unwed?Afrikán's our bachelorAnd Savvich still unwed.He jumped on the horse,The horse skips to and fro;He rides through the meadows,And green the meadows grow,And flowers blow."
KÓRSHUNOV. [Seats himself nearLYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA] That's nice. I like that. Now, then, come here some one. [A girl comes up, he pats her on the cheek] Oh, you little bright eyes! You girls, I suppose, need a lot to set off your fair faces and rosy blushes; he, he, he! But I haven't any money! It will be on me, he, he, he! Hold out your apron! [He tosses her some small change; the girl bows and goes out] Now, then, Gordéy Kárpych, tell your wife why we came.
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. I told you, wife, long ago, that living in this town bored me, because you can't take a step here without seeing that the people are absolutely ignorant and uneducated. And so I want to move from this place to Moscow. But there will be a man there who is no stranger to us—our dear son-in-law, Afrikán Savvich.
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Oh! Oh! What are you saying!
KÓRSHUNOV. Yes, we've shaken hands on it, Pelagéya Egórovna. What are you afraid of? I'm not going to eat her!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Oh, Lord! [Seizes her daughter] She's my daughter! I won't give her up!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Wife!
PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. My dear Gordéy Kárpych! Don't trifle with a mother's heart! Stop! You've fairly staggered me!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Wife, you know me! And you, Afrikán Savvich, don't be uneasy: with me saying is doing!
KÓRSHUNOV. You have promised—then keep your word. [Rises, goes to the girls, and speaks to them in a low voice.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. [Goes to her father] Father, I will never take a step against your will. But have pity on me, poor girl that I am! Don't ruin my young life!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. You're a fool, and don't understand your own happiness! You'll live in Moscow like a lady; you'll ride in a coach. In the first place, you'll live in the city—and not in a wilderness like this! In the second place, these are my orders!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. I dare not disobey your command. Father! [Bows down to his feet] Don't make me unhappy for my whole life! Relent, father! Make me do whatever you like, only don't compel me to marry a man I don't love!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. I never take back my word. [Rises.
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. As you wish, father! [Bows and goes to her mother.
KÓRSHUNOV. There, that business is over! Now, then, girls—a marriage song!
GIRLS. [Sing] "The flowers in the garden will wither all about me,The blue flower in the meadow will be faded and forlorn;And so will my darling of the red cheeks without me;So rise up early, mother, in the morn.You must water all the flowersIn the dawn and evening hoursWith water very often and with bitter tears in showers."
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Not that, not that! Sing another!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Let's go into the reception-room, Afrikán Savvich. Wife, all of you, come there!
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. Where can I hide myself!
GORDÉY KÁRPYCH. Arína, bring along the wine!
ARÍNA. Oh, wait, I can't attend to you now! My darling child! Girls, my dearies! Here's the song we'll sing. [She sings.
"Thou art my own, my mother,Who grievest day by day,And at night to God dost pray.Thou who art so downcast,Look but once on her here,Thy daughter who was so dear—For the last time—the last."
LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. For the last time.
At the end of this songGORDÉY KÁRPYCHandKÓRSHUNOVgo out;LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNAremains in the embrace of her mother, surrounded by her friends.