MERIK. A pretty she-devil. A real lady. ...

FEDYA. A real lady. ... Look at her cheeks, her eyes. ... Open your
hand, I can't see. Hair coming down to her waist. ... It is
lifelike! She might be going to say something. ... [Pause.]

MERIK. It's destruction for a weak man. A woman like that gets a
hold on one and ... [Waves his hand] you're done for!

[KUSMA'S voice is heard. "Trrr. ... Stop, you brutes!" Enter KUSMA.]

KUSMA. There stands an inn upon my way. Shall I drive or walk past
it, say? You can pass your own father and not notice him, but you
can see an inn in the dark a hundred versts away. Make way, if you
believe in God! Hullo, there! [Planks a five-copeck piece down on
the counter] A glass of real Madeira! Quick!

FEDYA. Oh, you devil!

TIHON. Don't wave your arms about, or you'll hit somebody.

KUSMA. God gave us arms to wave about. Poor sugary things, you're
half-melted. You're frightened of the rain, poor delicate things.
[Drinks.]

EFIMOVNA. You may well get frightened, good man, if you're caught
on your way in a night like this. Now, thank God, it's all right,
there are many villages and houses where you can shelter from the
weather, but before that there weren't any. Oh, Lord, it was bad!
You walk a hundred versts, and not only isn't there a village; or a