Smirnov. No.
Mrs. Popov. Very well. (She rings the bell)
{Enter Luka.)
Mrs. Popov. Luka, show the gentleman out.
Luka. (Going to Smirnov) Sir, why don't you leave when you are ordered? What do you want?
Smirnov. (Jumping up) Whom do you think you are talking to? I'll grind you to powder.
Luka. (Puts his hand to his heart) Good Lord! (He drops into a chair) Oh, I'm ill, I can't breathe!
Mrs. Popov. Where is Dascha? (Calling) Dascha! Pelageja! Dascha! (She rings)
Luka. They're all gone! I'm ill! Water!
Mrs. Popov. (To Smirnov) Leave! Get out!
Smirnov. Kindly be a little more polite!
Mrs. Popov. (Striking her fists and stamping her feet) You are vulgar! You're a boor! A monster!
Smirnov. What did you say?
Mrs. Popov. I said you were a boor, a monster!
Smirnov. (Steps toward her quickly) Permit me to ask what right you have to insult me?
Mrs. Popov. What of it? Do you think I am afraid of you?
Smirnov. And you think that because you are a romantic creature you can insult me without being punished? I challenge you!
Luka. Merciful heaven! Water!
Smirnov. We'll have a duel.
Mrs. Popov. Do you think because you have big fists and a steer's neck I am afraid of you?
Smirnov. I allow no one to insult me, and I make no exception because you are a woman, one of the "weaker sex!"
Mrs. Popov. (Trying to cry him down) Boor, boor, boor!
