MARTHA. How do you do, Zinaida? Let me congratulate you on your daughter's birthday.
ZINAIDA. Thank you, my dear; I am delighted to see you. How are you?
MARTHA. Very well indeed, thank you. [She sits down on the sofa] Good evening, young people!
FIRST GUEST. [Laughing] Young people indeed! Do you call yourself an old person?
MARTHA. [Sighing] How can I make any pretense to youth now?
FIRST GUEST. What nonsense! The fact that you are a widow means nothing. You could beat any pretty girl you chose at a canter.
ZINAIDA. Why do you bring the tea in like that? Go and fetch some jam to eat with it!
MARTHA. No thank you; none for me, don't trouble yourself. [A pause.]
FIRST GUEST. [To MARTHA] Did you come through Mushkine on your way here?
MARTHA. No, I came by way of Spassk. The road is better that way.
MARTHA. The price of lottery tickets has gone up again, my dear. I have never known such a state of affairs. The first issue is already worth two hundred and seventy and the second nearly two hundred and fifty. This has never happened before.
ZINAIDA. How fortunate for those who have a great many tickets!
MARTHA. Don't say that, dear; even when the price of tickets is high it does not pay to put one's capital into them.
ZINAIDA. Quite true, and yet, my dear, one never can tell what may happen. Providence is sometimes kind.
THIRD GUEST. My impression is, ladies, that at present capital is exceedingly unproductive. Shares pay very small dividends, and speculating is exceedingly dangerous. As I understand it, the capitalist now finds himself in a more critical position than the man who----
MARTHA. How dare you yawn in the presence of ladies?
FIRST GUEST. I beg your pardon! It was quite an accident.
ZINAIDA gets up and goes out through the door on the right.
MARTHA. [Aside] Heavens! This is deadly! I shall die of ennui.
Enter ZINAIDA and LEBEDIEFF through the door on the right.
ZINAIDA. Why do you go off by yourself like a prima donna? Come and sit with our guests!
LEBEDIEFF. [Yawning] Oh, dear, our sins are heavy! [He catches sight of MARTHA] Why, there is my little sugar-plum! How is your most esteemed highness?
LEBEDIEFF. Splendid, splendid! [He sits down in an armchair] Quite right--Oh, Gabriel!