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day a traveller stayed the night; he said that when an infant died its soul goes up straight to heaven. Is that true? Mítritch Who can tell. I suppose so. Well? Nan Oh, it would be best if I died too. Whimpers. Mítritch Then you’d be off the list! Nan Up to ten one’s an infant, and maybe one’s soul would go to God. Else one’s sure to go to the bad! Mítritch And how to the bad? How should the likes of you not go to the bad? Who teaches you? What do you see? What do you hear? Only vileness! I, though I’ve not been taught much, still know a thing or two. I’m not quite like a peasant woman. A peasant woman, what is she? Just mud! There are many millions of the likes of you in Russia, and all as blind as moles⁠—knowing nothing! All sorts of spells: how to stop the cattle-plague with a plough, and how to cure children by putting them under the perches in the henhouse! That’s what they know! Nan Yes, mother also did that! Mítritch Yes⁠—there it is⁠—just so! So many millions of girls and women, and all like beasts in a forest! As she grows up, so she dies! Never sees anything; never hears anything. A peasant⁠—he may learn something at the pub, or maybe in prison, or in the army⁠—as I did. But a woman? Let alone about God, she doesn’t even know rightly what Friday it is! Friday! Friday! But ask her what’s Friday? She don’t know! They’re like blind puppies, creeping about and poking their noses into the dung-heap.⁠ ⁠
 All they know are their silly songs. Ho, ho, ho, ho! But what they mean by ho-ho, they don’t know themselves! Nan But I, daddy, I do know half the Lord’s Prayer! Mítritch A lot you know! But what can one expect of you? Who teaches you? Only a tipsy peasant⁠—with the strap perhaps! That’s all the teaching you get! I don’t know who’ll have to answer for you. For a recruit, the drill-sergeant or the corporal has to answer; but for the likes of you there’s no one responsible! Just as the cattle that have no herdsman are the most mischievous, so with you women⁠—you are the stupidest class! The most foolish class is yours! Nan Then what’s one to do? Mítritch That’s what one has to do.⁠ ⁠
 You just cover up your head and sleep! Oh Lord! Silence. The cricket chirps. Nan Jumps up. Daddy! Someone’s screaming awfully! Blest if someone isn’t screaming! Daddy darling, it’s coming here! Mítritch Cover up your head, I tell you! Enter Nikíta, followed by Matryóna. Nikíta What have they done with me? What have they done with me? Matryóna Have a drop, honey; have a drop of drink! What’s the matter? Fetches the spirits and sets the bottle before him. Nikíta Give it here! Perhaps the drink will help me! Matryóna Mind! They’re not asleep! Here you are, have a drop! Nikíta What does it all mean? Why did you plan it? You might have taken it somewhere! Matryóna Whispers. Sit still a bit and drink a little more, or have a smoke. It will ease your thoughts! Nikíta My own mother! My turn seems to have come! How it began to whimper, and how the little bones crunched⁠ ⁠
 krr⁠ ⁠
 I’m not a man now! Matryóna Eh, now, what’s the use of talking so silly! Of course it does seem fearsome at night, but wait till the daylight comes, and a day or two passes, and you’ll forget to think of it! Goes up to Nikíta and puts her hand on his shoulder. Nikíta Go away from me! What have you done with me? Matryóna Come, come, sonnie! Now really, what’s the matter with you? Takes his hand. Nikíta Go away from me! I’ll kill you! It’s all one to me now! I’ll kill you! Matryóna Oh, oh, how frightened he’s got! You should go and have a sleep now! Nikíta I have nowhere to go; I’m lost! Matryóna Shaking her head. Oh, oh, I’d better go and tidy things up. He’ll sit and rest a bit, and it will pass! Exit. Nikíta sits with his face in his hands. Mítritch and Nan seem stunned. Nikíta It’s whining! It’s whining! It is really⁠—there, there, quite plain! She’ll bury it, really she will! Runs to the door. Mother, don’t bury it, it’s alive.⁠ ⁠
 Enter Matryóna. Matryóna Whispers. Now then, what is it? Heaven help you! Why won’t you get to rest? How can it be alive? All its bones are crushed! Nikíta Give me more drink! Drinks. Matryóna Now go, sonnie. You’ll fall asleep now all right. Nikíta Stands listening. Still alive⁠ ⁠
 there⁠ ⁠
 it’s whining! Don’t you hear?⁠ ⁠
 There! Matryóna Whispers. No! I tell you! Nikíta Mother! My own mother! I’ve ruined my life! What have you done with me? Where am I to go? Runs out of the hut; Matryóna follows him. Nan Daddy dear, darling, they’ve smothered it! Mítritch Angrily. Go to sleep, I tell you! Oh dear, may the frogs kick you! I’ll give it to you with the broom! Go to sleep, I tell you! Nan Daddy, my treasure! Something is catching hold of my shoulders, something is catching hold with its paws! Daddy dear⁠ ⁠
 really, really⁠ ⁠
 I must go! Daddy, darling! let me get up on the oven with you! Let me, for Heaven’s sake! Catching hold⁠ ⁠
 catching hold! Oh! Runs to the stove. Mítritch See how they’ve frightened the girl.⁠ ⁠
 What vile creatures they are! May the frogs kick them! Well then, climb up. Nan Climbs on oven. But don’t you go away! Mítritch Where should I go to? Climb up, climb up! Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! Holy Mother!⁠ ⁠
 How they have frighted the girl. Covers her up. There’s a little fool⁠—really a little fool! How they’ve frighted her; really, they are vile creatures! The deuce take ’em!

Curtain.

Act V Scene I

In front of scene a

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