y darling, my only child, do as your old father advises you;
give him up!

SASHA. [Frightened] Oh! How can you say that?

LEBEDIEFF. Yes, do it, little Sasha! It will make a scandal, all the
tongues in the country will be wagging about it, but it is better to
live down a scandal than to ruin one's life.

SASHA. Don't say that, father. Oh, don't. I refuse to listen! I must
crush such gloomy thoughts. He is good and unhappy and misunderstood. I
shall love him and learn to understand him. I shall set him on his feet
again. I shall do my duty. That is settled.

LEBEDIEFF. This is not your duty, but a delusion--

SASHA. We have said enough. I have confessed things to you that I have
not dared to admit even to myself. Don't speak about this to any one.
Let us forget it.

LEBEDIEFF. I am hopelessly puzzled, and either my mind is going from
old age or else you have all grown very clever, but I'll be hanged if I
understand this business at all.

Enter SHABELSKI.

SHABELSKI. Confound you all and myself, too! This is maddening!

LEBEDIEFF. What do you want?

SHABELSKI Seriously, I must really do something horrid and rascally, so
that not only I but everybody else will be disgusted by it. I certainly
shall find something to do, upon my word I shall! I have already told
Borkin to announce that I am to be married. [He laughs] Everybody is a
scoundrel and I must be one too!

LEBEDIEFF. I am tired of you, Matthew. Look here, man you talk in such a
way that, excuse my saying so, you will soon find yourself in a lunatic
asylum!

SHABELSKI. Could a lunatic asylum possibly be worse than this house, or
any othe r? Kindly take me there at once. Please do! Everybody is
wicked and futile and worthless and stupid; I am an object of disgust to
myself, I don't believe a word I say-----

LEBEDIEFF. Let me give you a piece of advice, old man; fill your mouth
full of tow, light it, and blow at everybody. Or, better still, take
your hat and go home. This is a wedding, we all want to enjoy ourselves
and you are croaking like a raven. Yes, really.

SHABELSKI leans on the piano and begins to sob.

LEBEDIEFF. Good gracious, Matthew, Count! What is it, dear Matthew, old
friend? Have I offended you? There, forgive me; I didn't mean to hurt
you. Come, drink some water.

SHABELSKI. I don't want any water. [Raises his head.]

LEBEDIEFF. What are you crying about?

SHABELSKI. Nothing in particular; I was just crying.

LEBEDIEFF. Matthe