shouts ] Shut up! : Intriguer! C HUBUKOV : Boy! Pup!
: Old rat! Jesuit! C HUBUKOV : Shut up or I’ll shoot you like a partridge! You fool!
: Everybody knows that — oh, my heart! — your late wife used to beat you... My feet... temples...
sparks... I fall, I fall! C HUBUKOV : And you’re under the slipper of your house-keeper! : There, there, there...
my heart’s burst! My shoulders come off! Where is my shoulder? I die.
[ Falls into an armchair ] A doctor! C HUBUKOV : Boy! Milksop! Fool!
I’m sick! [ Drinks water ] Sick! : What sort of a hunter are you? You can’t even sit on a horse!
[ To her father ] Papa, what’s the matter with him? Papa! Look, Papa! [ screams ] Ivan Vassilevitch!
He’s dead! C HUBUKOV : I’m sick! I can’t breathe! Air!
: He’s dead. [ Pulls Lomov’s sleeve ] Ivan Vassilevitch! Ivan Vassilevitch! What have you done to me?
He’s dead. [ Falls into an armchair ] A doctor, a doctor! [ Hysterics .] C HUBUKOV : Oh! What is it?
What’s the matter? : [ wails ] He’s dead... dead! C HUBUKOV : Who’s dead?
[ Looks at Lomov ] So he is! My word! Water! A doctor!
[ Lifts a tumbler to Lomov’s mouth ] Drink this! No, he doesn’t drink. It means he’s dead, and all that. I’m the most unhappy of men!
Why don’t I put a bullet into my brain? Why haven’t I cut my throat yet? What am I waiting for? Give me a knife!
Give me a pistol! [ Lomov moves ] He seems to be coming round. Drink some water! That’s right.
: I see stars... mist... where am I? C HUBUKOV : Hurry up and get married and — well, to the devil with you!
She’s willing! [ He puts Lomov’s hand into his daughter’s ] She’s willing and all that. I give you my blessing and so on. Only leave me in peace!
: [ getting up ] Eh? What? To whom? C