YATS.
Don't cry, Nastasya Timofeyevna!
Just think what are human tears, anyway?
Just petty psychiatry, and nothing more!
ZMEYUKINA.
And are there any red-haired men in Greece?
DIMBA.
Yes, everysing is zere.
ZHIGALOV.
But you don't have our kinds of mushroom.
DIMBA.
Yes, we've got zem and everysing.
MOZGOVOY.
Harlampi Spiridonovitch, it's your turn to speak!
Ladies and gentlemen, a speech!
ALL. [To DIMBA] Speech! speech!
Your turn!
DIMBA.
Why?
I don't understand....
What is it!
ZMEYUKINA.
No, no!
You can't refuse!
It's you turn!
Get up!
DIMBA. [Gets up, confused] I can't say what...
Zere's Russia and zere's Greece.
Zere's people in Russia and people in Greece....
And zere's people swimming the sea in karavs, which mean sips, and people on the land in railway trains.
I understand.
We are Greeks and you are Russians, and I want nussing....
I can tell you... zere's Russia and zere's Greece...
[Enter NUNIN.] NUNIN.
Wait, ladies and gentlemen, don't eat now!
Wait!
Just one minute, Nastasya Timofeyevna!
Just come here, if you don't mind! [Takes NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA aside, puffing] Listen...
The General's coming...
I found one at last....
I'm simply worn out....
A real General, a solid one—old, you know, aged perhaps eighty, or even ninety.
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA.
When is he coming?
NUNIN.
This minute.
You'll be grateful to me all your life. [Note: A few lines have been omitted: they refer to the "General's" rank and its civil equivalent in words for which the English language has no corresponding terms.
The "General" is an ex-naval officer, a second-class captain.]
NASTASYA TIMOFEYEVNA.
You're not deceiving me, Andrey darling?