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OSSEP [_on the other side of the stage to Chacho_]. You G.o.dforsaken!
Could you not wait a moment?
CHACHO. What is the matter now?
OSSEP. Only G.o.d in heaven knows how I stand! Think of it! Santurian has failed.
CHACHO. Great heaven!
ALEXANDER [_offering Nato his arm_]. Something must have happened!
[_They go off at the left, Salome following_.
OSSEP. Righteous G.o.d, why dost thou punish me thus?
SALOME [_returning to Ossep_]. Do with me as you will, but it could not have been helped. I have promised him 7,000 rubles as dowry, [_Turning to Chacho as she leaves the room_:] Pray come with me, aunt. You come, too, Ossep.
[_Exit Salome_.
SCENE XIII
OSSEP [_much excited_]. What do I hear? Has she spoken the truth? Do you hear? Why do you not answer me? Why are you silent? [_Still more excited_.] It is true, then! Yes, yes, I see that it is true! O G.o.d, let lightning strike this unlucky house that we may all die together. I have just lost an important sum and come home to prevent further negotiations. And see there!
CHACHO. I am to blame for it. Do not get excited. I will add 1,000 rubles to it, if need be, from the money I have laid by for my burial.
OSSEP. From your burial money? Have I already fallen so low that I must ask alms? Keep your money for yourself! I do not want it. Drop that complaint also, for I am still rich, very rich. How can it injure me that Santurian has failed? I stand here firm and unshakable, and have inexhaustible money resources. [_Tearing his hair_.] O G.o.d! O G.o.d!
[_Walks to and fro excitedly_.] Now I will go and wish my son-in-law joy. Yes, I must go so that I shall not make myself ridiculous to him.
The man is a government official!
[_Exit right, laughing bitterly_.
CHACHO. Gracious heaven, be thou our saviour and deliverer.
CURTAIN.
ACT SECOND
SCENE I
_A richly furnished sales-room in Barssegh's house_.
MICHO. Two, three, four, five, six and this little piece. It does not measure so much!
BARSSEGH [_standing up and giving Micho a rap on the nose_]. You have what is lacking there. Measure again. Now you've got what is lacking. I will tear your soul out of your body if you measure so that in seven arschin[44] it comes out one werschok short.
[44] Russian measure of length.
MICHO [_measuring again_]. O dear, O dear!
BARSSEGH. Look out, or I will take that "O dear" out of your ear. Be up and at it now!
MICHO. Oh, Mr. Barssegh! [_Measuring._] One, two, three--
BARSSEGH. Stretch it, you blockhead.
MICHO [_stretching the cotton_]. Three, four. [_Wipes the perspiration from his brow_.]
BARSSEGH. What is the matter with you? You sweat as though you had a mule-pack on your back.
MICHO. Five.
BARSSEGH. Pull it out more.
MICHO. Six and this little piece. It lacks three werschok again.
BARSSEGH [_pulling his ears_]. It lacks three werschok? There they are!
MICHO. Oh my, oh my!
BARSSEGH. You calf; will you ever develop into a man?
MICHO. O dear mother!
BARSSEGH [_pulling him again by the ear_]. Doesn't it grow longer?
MICHO [_crying_]. Dear Mr. Barssegh, dear sir, let me go.
BARSSEGH. I want to teach you how to measure.
MICHO. It reaches, I say; it reaches, indeed; it reaches. Let me measure again.
BARSSEGH. Now take care that you make it seven arschin.
MICHO [_aside_]. Holy Karapet, help me. [_Measuring_.] One, two--
BARSSEGH. O you blockhead!
MICHO. Three.
BARSSEGH Wake up!
MICHO. Four.
BARSSEGH. Haven't you seen how Dartscho measures?
