GRÍSHA. [_Clasping his hands behind him_] Please, ma'am.

MADAM ULANBÉKOV. No, most certainly not!

GRÍSHA. Please do, mistress.

MADAM ULANBÉKOV. I tell you, positively, no! One's morals are just spoiled
at these fairs. Your greedy ears will take in all kinds of nastiness!
You're still a boy; that's no place for you!

GRÍSHA. No, but please let me, ma'am.

MADAM ULANBÉKOV. You stay right here! Put that nonsense out of your head!

GRÍSHA. Well, I declare! I slave, and slave, and can't ever go anywhere!

VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. Oh me, oh my! Oh me, oh my! How spoiled you are! How
spoiled you are!

MADAM ULANBÉKOV. What are you cackling about? Keep still!

VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. But how can I keep still, benefactress? Such lack of
feeling! Such ingratitude! It pierces the heart.

MADAM ULANBÉKOV. I command you to keep still, and you must keep still!

GRÍSHA. Please let me, ma'am!

VASILÍSA PEREGRÍNOVNA. As if the mistress didn't love you, as if she didn't