he," says I, "marry off the daughters and himself remain on the farm?" "He can," says he, "only," says he, "it will take much trouble and money," says he; "it can be done,—but without money," says he, "there is no use trying."
Nikíta (laughing). Of course, if you give them money. Everybody wants money.
Matréna. Well, my dear. I told him the whole affair. "In the first place," says he, "your son must inscribe himself in that village; for this you need money to treat the old men to drinks. Then they will put down their signatures. Everything," says he, "has to be done cautiously." Look here! (Takes out a paper from her kerchief.) He has written up a paper. Read it, for you know how to read. (Nikita reads it.)
Nikíta. This paper is an official document. There is no great wisdom in it.
Matréna. Listen to what Iván Moséich has told me. "Above everything else," says he, "let him not miss the money. If she does not get the money," says he, "they will not let her get a son-in-law. Money," says he, "is the chief thing." So look out! My son, the business will soon begin.
Nikíta. What do I care? It is her money, so let her trouble herself about it.
Matréna. My son, you do not judge rightly. Can a woman consider rightly? Suppose even she takes the money, how is she to dispose of it? That is not a woman's business, but a man's. You can hide it, and all such things. You have more sense in matters like this.
Nikíta. The reasoning of you women is not correct!
Matréna. Why not correct? You only take the money. Then the woman will be in your hands. If, by any chance, she should get saucy, or something of that kind, you can pull in the reins.
Nikíta. Go to! I will go away.
