Leo Tolstoy

“ NIKÍTA. All right. (Exeunt all but NIKÍTA. NIKÍTA lights a cigarette. It grows darker.) Just see how they bother one. Want a fellow to tell 'em how he larks about with the wenches! It would take long to tell 'em all those stories--"Marry her," he says. Marry them all! One would have a good lot of wives! And what need have I to marry? Am as good as married now! There's many a chap as envies me. Yet how strange it felt when I crossed myself before the icón. It was just as if some one shoved me. The whole web fell to pieces at once. They say it's frightening to swear what's not true. ”

“ There now, that's just like your silly pate, to believe all they tell you. He's gone and put the lad to shame all for nothing. The best thing is to let him live as he is living, with his master. His master will help us in our present need, and give us ten roubles, and when the time comes....
PETER. Well, Daddy Akím, how's it to be?
AKÍM (looks at his son, clicking his tongue disapprovingly) . Mind, Nikíta, the tears of one that's been wronged never, what d'you call it--never fall beside the mark but always on, what's name--the head of the man as did the wrong. ”

“ She's what d'you call it, with him, with my son, NIKÍTA. With Nikíta, what d'you call it, mean.
MATRYÓNA. You wait a bit, my tongue runs smoother--let me tell it. You know, this lad of ours lived at the railway before he came to you. There was a girl there as kept dangling after him. A girl of no account, you know; her name's Marína. She used to cook for the men. So now this same girl accuses our son, Nikíta, that he, so to say, deceived her.
PETER. Well, there's nothing good in that.
MATRYÓNA. But she's no honest girl herself; she runs after the fellows like a common slut. ”

“ One always has to entice them fools in this way, just pretend to be of their mind, and when it comes to the point one goes and turns it all one's own way. You know, a woman has time to think seventy-and-seven thoughts while falling off the oven, so how's such as he to see through it? "Well, yes," says I, "it would be a good job,--only we must consider well beforehand. Why not go and see our son, and talk it over with Peter Ignátitch and hear what he has to say?" So here we are.
ANÍSYA. Oh dear, oh dear, how will it all end? Supposing his father just orders him to marry her? ”

“ That lass of yours isn't over fond of work either. And you'll be lying up on the oven. I know you.
PETER. What's the good of wearing out one's tongue before one has the hang of the matter?
ANÍSYA. The yard's full of cattle. You've not sold the cow, and have kept all the sheep for the winter: feeding and watering 'em alone takes all one's time, and you want to sack the laborer. But I tell you straight, I'm not going to do a man's work! I'll go and lie on the top of the oven same as you, and let everything go to pot! You may do what you like.
PETER (to Akoulína) . ”

“ D'you think Mother Matryóna didn't know? Eh, lassie,--Mother Matryóna's been ground, and ground again, ground fine! This much I can tell you, my jewel: Mother Matryóna can see through a brick wall three feet thick. I know it all, my jewel! I know what young wives need sleeping draughts for, so I've brought some along. ”

“ That's always the way with this old mumbler of mine, Peter Ignátitch. Once he's got anything wedged in his pate there's no knocking it out. We've gone and troubled you all for nothing. The lad can go on living as he has been. ”

“ Ah, these laborers! If I were well, I'd not keep one on no account. There's nothing but bother with 'em. (Rises and sits down again.) Nikíta!.... It's no good shouting. One of you'd better go. Go, Akoúl, drive 'em in.
AKOULÍNA. What? The horses?
PETER. What else?
AKOULÍNA. All right.
(Exit.)
PETER. Ah, but he's a loafer, that lad ... no good at all. Won't stir a finger if he can help it.
ANÍSYA. You're so mighty brisk yourself. When you're not sprawling on the top of the oven you're squatting on the bench. To goad others to work is all you're fit for. ”