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 damsel
Above his own degree.

When all the night is darkened
The sun may not appear;
And so the pretty maiden.
She may not be his dear."

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. [_Sitting and reflecting for some time_] Give it here.
[_Takes the paper and hides it, then rises_] Now I will write something
for you.

MITYA. You!

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. Only I don't know how to do it in verse, but--just plain
Russian.

MITYA. I shall regard such a kindness from you as a great happiness to
myself. [_Gives her paper and pen_] Here they are.

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. It's a great pity that I write so abominably. [_She
writes_; MITYA _tries to look_] Only don't you look, or I'll stop writing
and tear it up.

MITYA. 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.

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. [_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.

MITYA. May I have it?

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. 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_.

MITYA. It shall be as you wish.

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. [_Rises_] Will you come up-stairs to us?

MITYA. I will--this minute.

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. Good-by.

MITYA. To our pleasant meeting!

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA _goes to the door; from the doorway_ LYUBIM KARPYCH
_comes in_.

SCENE XI

_The same and_ LYUBIM KARPYCH

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. Ah!

LYUBIM KARPYCH. [_Looking at_ LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA] Wait! What sort of a
creature is this? On what pretext? On what business? We must consider this
matter.

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. Is it you, uncle!

LYUBIM KARPYCH. 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.

LYUBOV GORDEYEVNA. Good-by. [_Goes out_.

SCENE XII

MITYA _and_ LYUBIM KARPYCH

LYUBIM KARPYCH. Mitya, receive unto thyself Lyubim Karpych TORTSOV, the
brother of a wealthy merchant.

MITYA. You are welcome.

LYUBIM KARPYCH. [_Sits down_] My brother turned me out! And in the street