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      Dimba: Yes, there's everything there.

      Jigalov: But not mushrooms.

      Dimba: Yes, mushrooms too. Everything!

      Mozgovy: Mr. Dimba, it’s your turn to make a speech. Ladies and gentlemen, allow Mr. Dimba to make a speech.

      All (to Dimba): Speech! Speech! Your turn!

      Dimba: What for? I don’t understand what — what’s the matter?

      Jigalov: No, no! Don’t dare refuse! It’s your turn! Up you get!

      Dimba (rises in confusion): I can say — Russia is one thing and Greece is another. Now the people in Greece are one thing, and the people in Russia are another. And the “karavia” which sail on the sea you call ships, and those that go on land you call railways — I understand well. We are Greeks, you are Russians, and I want nothing — I can say — Russia is one thing and Greece is another. (Enter Newnin.)

      Newnin: Stop, ladies and gentlemen, don’t go on eating! Wait a little! Madame, just half a minute! Please come here! (Takes Nastasia aside, breathlessly.) Listen, the general’s just coming. At last I’ve found one. I was simply in agony. A real general, in the flesh, old, eighty, perhaps, or ninety, years old ——

      Nastasia: When is he coming?

      Newnin: This very moment. You’ll be grateful to me all your life. He’s not a general, he’s a peach! A marvel! Not any foot regiment, not infantry at all, but navy! In rank he’s a secondgrade captain, and with them, in the navy, that’s just the same as a field-marshal or, in civil rank, a privy councillor. Absolutely the same! Even higher!

      Nastasia: You’re not deceiving me, Andrew?

      Newnin: Now, am I a rascal? Don’t you worry.

      Nastasia (sighing): I don’t want to waste money, Andrew.

      Newnin: Don't you worry. He’s not a general, he's a work of art! (Raises his voice.) And I said to him, “You’ve quite forgotten us, your excellency,” I said. “It’s not right, your excellency, to forget old friends! Mrs. Jigalov is very angry with you,” I said. (Goes to table and sits down.) And he said, “My dear friend, how can I go if I am not a friend of the bridegroom’s?” “Oh, that’s being too much, your excellency,” I said. “What ceremonies! The bridegroom,” I said, “is a most charming, open-hearted man. To be working with an appraiser at the bank, you don’t think, your excellency, this is a young good-for-nothing. Why,” I said, “nowadays even noble ladies work at banks.” He clapped me on the shoulder, I smoked a Havana with him, and now he’s coming. Wait just a moment, ladies and gentlemen, don’t go on eating!

      Aplombov: And when is he coming?

      Newnin: This moment. When I left him, he was already putting on his goloshes. Wait just a moment, ladies and gentlemen, don’t go on eating!

      Aplombov: We must tell them to play a march.

      Newnin (loudly): Hey, musicians! A march! (Band plays a march.)

      Servant (announcing): Mr. Revunov-Karayúlov! (Jigalov, Nastasia, and Newnin run to meet him. Enter Revunov-Karayúlov.)

      Nastasia: Welcome, welcome, your excellency. Very kind ——

      Revunov-Karayúlov: Extremely!

      Jigalov: Your excellency, we are not eminent, not exalted people, but simple folk; but do not think there is any trickery on our side. There is always the first place in our house for good people; we grudge them nothing. Welcome!

      Revunov-Karayúlov: Extremely pleased!

      Newnin: Allow me to introduce the bridegroom, Mr. Aplombov, your excellency, and his newlyborn — I mean, newly-wed—wife! And this is Mr. Yat, of the telegraph. This is Mr. Dimba, a foreign gentleman of Greek nationality, in the confectionery profession. And so on, and so on — the rest are all — rubbish. Take a seat, your excellency.

      Revunov-Karayúlov: Extremely! Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I just want to say two words to Andrew. (Takes Newnin aside.) I’m a little confused, my friend. Why did you call me “your excellency”? I’m not a general, I’m a second-grade captain, and that’s lower than a colonel.

      Newnin (shouts in his ear): Oh, yes, yes, I know, but allow us to call you “your excellency”! The family here, you know, is patriarchal, it respects the aged, it loves respect for rank.

      Revunov-Karayúlov: Well, if that’s the case, then by all means ! (They go to the table.) Extremely!

      Nastasia: Take a seat, your excellency. Be so kind! Take something to eat, your excellency. Only excuse us, at home you must be used to everything elegant, but with us it’s all simple.

      Revunov-Karayúlov (hearing badly): What? H’m — Oh, yes. (Pause.) Oh, yes. In the old times people always lived simply and were satisfied. I am a man with a certain rank and yet I live simply. To-day Andrew came to me and invited me to the wedding. “How can I go,” I said, “if I don’t know them? It’s not the proper thing.” But he said, “These are simple people, patriarchal, pleased to welcome guests.” “Well,” I said, “by all means, if that’s the case! Why not? Very glad. It’s dull for me at home alone, and if my presence at the wedding can cause any pleasure, so do me the favour,” said I.

      Jigalov: You really mean it, your excellency? I esteem you for it. I’m a simple man myself, without any trickery, and I esteem such people. Take something to eat, your excellency.

      Aplombov: You have been long retired, your excellency?

      Revunov-Karayúlov: Eh? Oh, yes, yes, that’s so. True. Yes. But excuse me, what’s all this? Bitter herrings and bitter bread! One can’t eat anything!

      All: Bitter! Bitter! (Aplombov and Dashenka kiss.)

      Revunov-Karayúlov: Hee, hee, hee. Your healths (Pause.) Yes! In the old days all was simple and everyone was satisfied. I love simplicity. I’m an old man; I retired in ’65; I’m seventy-two years old. (Sees Mozgovy.) You’re a sailor, then?

      Mozgovy: Yes, I am.

      Revunov-Karayúlov: Aha! So! Yes! Service at sea was always hard. There are things to ponder and split your head about. Every insignificant word has, so to speak, its separate meaning. For instance — the fore-topman in the shrouds on the top-gallant lashings! What does that mean? A sailor understands! Hee, hee. Now where’s your mathematics!

      Newnin: The health of his excellency, Captain Revunov-Karayúlov! (Band plays a flourish. “Hurrah.”)

      Yat: Your excellency, you were pleased just now to express yourself on the subject of the hardness of naval service. But tell me if the telegraph’s any easier? Nowadays, your excellency, no one can enter the telegraph service unless he can read and write French and German. But the hardest thing we have to do is the transmission of telegrams. Terribly hard. Please listen a moment. (Raps with a fork on the table, imitating a telegraphic apparatus.)

      Revunov-Karayúlov: What’s that?

      Yat: That’s for: I esteem you, your excellency, for your virtues. You think it’s easy? And again. (Raps.)

      Revunov-Karayúlov: Louder. I can’t hear you.

      Yat: And that’s for: Madame, how happy I am to clasp you in my embraces!

      Revunov-Karayúlov: What lady? Yes. (To Mozgovy.) And then, suppose it’s blowing half a gale and you’ve got — you’ve got to hoist the foretop halliards and the tops’l gallants. You must give the order: “Mount the rigging to the foretop halliards and the tops’l gallants,” and at the same time as they loose the sails on the stays, below they are standing to the main lashings and the tops’l gallant halliards ——

      Master of Ceremonies (rising):

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