[_Goes toward the ante-room to the right and meets Nato with four sheets of music in her hand_.

[43] Abace--20 kopecks.

Scene VII

_Nato, Ossep, Chacho_.

OSSEP. Yes, yes, reduce your expenses!

CHACHO. Little girl, how quickly you have come back!

NATO. I did not go far, aunt.

CHACHO. What have you in your hand, sweetheart?

NATO. I have bought some new music.

OSSEP [_stepping up to them_]. Yes, yes, retrench! [_Taking a sheet of music out of her hand_.] What did you pay for this?

NATO. Four abaces.

OSSEP. And for this [_taking another_]?

NATO [_looking at it_]. Six abaces.

OSSEP [_taking a third_]. And for this?

NATO [_fretfully_]. One ruble and a half.

OSSEP [_taking the last_]. And certainly as much for this?

NATO. No, papa; I paid two rubles and a half for that.

OSSEP [_angrily_]. And one is to economize! Am I to blame for this? What have you bought four pieces for? Was not one or two enough?

NATO [_frightened_]. I need them.

OSSEP [_still more angrily_]. Tell me one thing--is this to be endured?

If she could play properly at least, but she only drums two or three pieces and says she can play. I cannot play myself, but I have heard persons who played well. They could use these things, but not we. I wish the devil had the man who introduced this! [_Throws the music on the floor_.] I'll cut off my hand if she can play properly.

CHACHO. There, there, stop, now!

OSSEP. Whatever she tries to do is only half done: music, languages--she has only half learned. Tell me, what can she do? Is she able to sew anything? or to cut out a dress for herself? Yes, that one seems like a European girl! Ha! ha! Five times I have been in Leipsic, and the daughter of the merest pauper there can do more than she can. What have I not seen in the way of needlework! I gaped with admiration. And she cannot even speak Armenian properly, and that is her mother tongue! Can she write a page without mistakes? Can she p.r.o.nounce ten French words fluently? Yes, tell me, what can she do? What does she understand? She will make a fine housekeeper for you! The man who takes her for his wife is to be pitied. She be able to share with him the troubles of life!

Some day or other she will be a mother and must bring up children. Ha, ha! they will have a fine bringing-up! She is here to make a show; but for nothing beside! She is an adept at spending money. Yes, give her money, money, so that she can rig herself out and go to b.a.l.l.s and parties! [_Nato cries._] Can I stand this any longer? Can I go on with these doings? Retrench, you say. What is this [_taking a corner of Nato's tunic in his hand_]? How is this for a twelve-story building?

Does it warm the back? How am I to reduce expenses here? And if I do it, will others do it also? I'd like to see the man who could do it!

[_Nato still crying._

CHACHO.

Do all these things you have said in my presence amount to anything? You yourself said that you troubled yourself little about what others did.

What do you want, then? Why should you poison the heart of this innocent girl?

[_All are silent awhile._

OSSEP [_lays his hand on his forehead and recovers himself._] O just heaven, what am I doing? I am beside myself. [_Goes up to Nato._] Not to you, not to you, my Nato, should I say all this! [_Embraces her._] No, you do not deserve it; you are innocent. We are to blame for all. I am to blame, I! because I imitated the others and brought you up as others brought up their daughters. Don't cry! I did not wish to hurt you. I was in bad humor, for everything has vexed me to-day, and unfortunately you came in at the wrong moment. [_Picks up the music and gives it to her._]

Here, take the music, my child. [_Embraces her again._] Go and buy some more. Do what you wish everywhere, and be behind no one. Until to-day you have wanted nothing, and, with G.o.d's help, you shall want nothing in the future.

[_Kisses her and turns to go._

CHACHO. Now, Ossep, think it over; come to some decision in the matter.

OSSEP. I should like to, indeed; but what I cannot do I cannot do.

[_Goes off at the right._

SCENE VIII

_Nato, Chacho, then Salome_.

NATO [_falling sobbing in Chacho's arms_]. O dear, dear aunt.

CHACHO. Stop; don't cry, my dear, my precious child. It is indeed your father. Stop; stop, Salome.

SALOME [_coming in smiling_]. Dear aunt, I have arranged everything.

[_Stops._] What is this now? Why are you crying?

[_Nato wipes away her tears and goes toward the divan_.

CHACHO. You know her father, don't you? He has been scolding her, and has made her cry.

SALOME. If her father has been troubling her, then I will make her happy again. Nato, dear, I have betrothed you. [_Nato looks at her in wonderment._] Yes, my love, be happy--what have you to say about it? Mr.

Alexander Marmarow is now your betrothed.

NATO. Is it really true, mamma dear?

CHACHO [_at the same time_]. Is it true?

SALOME. It is true, be a.s.sured.

NATO [_embracing Salome_]. O my dear, dear mother.

SALOME [_seizing her daughter and kissing her_]. Now I am rid of my worries about you. I hope it will bring you joy. Go and put on another dress, for your betrothed is coming.

NATO. Now?

SALOME. Certainly, at once. You know, I presume, that you must make yourself pretty.