ng so!--but ask her something!

BOLSHOV. What shall I ask her? A goose is no playmate for a pig; do what
you please.

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. We won't ask you when it comes to the point;
meantime, say something. A man, a total stranger, is coming--no matter how
much you try, a man is not a woman--he's coming for his first visit, when
we've never seen him before.

BOLSHOV. I said, stop it!

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. What a father you are! And yet you call yourself
one! Ah, my poor abandoned little girl, you're just like a little orphan
with drooping head! He turns away from you, and won't recognize you! Sit
down, Lipochka; sit down, little soul, my charming little darling! [_She
makes her sit down._

LIPOCHKA. Oh, stop it, mamma! You've mussed me all up!

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. All right, then, I'll look at you from a distance.

LIPOCHKA. Look if you want to, only don't rave! Fudge, mamma, one can't
dress up properly without your going off into a sentimental fit.

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. So, so, my dear! But when I look at you, it seems
such a pity.

LIPOCHKA. Why so? It had to come some time.

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. All the same, it's a pity, you little fool. We've
been raising you all these years, and you've grown up--but now for no
reason at all we're giving you over to strangers, as if we were tired of
you, and as if you bored us by your foolish childishness, and by your sweet
behavior. Here, we'll pack you out of the house, like an enemy from the
town; then we'll come to, and look around, and you'll be gone forever.
Consider, good people, what it'll be like, living in some strange, far-away
place, choking on another's bread, and wiping away your tears with your
fist! Yes, good God, she's marrying beneath her; some blockhead will be
butting in--a blockhead, the son of a blockhead! [_She weeps._

LIPOCHKA. There you go, crying! Honestly, aren't you ashamed, mamma? What
do you mean by blockhead?

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. [_Weeping_] The words came out of themselves. I
couldn't help it.

BOLSHOV. What made you start this bawling? If anybody asks you, you don't
know yourself.

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. I don't know, my dear, I don't know; the fit just
came over me.

BOLSHOV. That's it, just foolishness. Tears come cheap with you.

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. Yes, my dear, they do! They do! I know myself that
they come cheap; but how can you help it?

LIPOCHKA. Fudge, mamma, how you act! Stop it! Now, he'll come any