thing I ask of you—be noble! (Through the room, from one door to the other couples pass, dancing the grand-chain. The first couple is Dashenka and the Master of Ceremonies, behind them Yat and Zmewkin. They stop dancing and stay in the room. Enter Jigalov and Dimba, and go to the table.)
Master of Ceremonies: Promenade! Messieu’s, promenade! (Off.) Promenade! (Exeunt the couples.)
Yat: Be merciful! Be merciful, enchanting Miss Zmewkin!
Zmewkin: Oh! what a man you are! I’ve told you already I'm not in voice.
Yat: I entreat you, sing! Only one note! Be merciful! Only one note!
Zmewkin: I’m tired. (Sits down and fans herself.)
Yat: No, you’re simply pitiless! Such an inhuman creature, permit me to use the expression, and such a wonderful, wonderful voice. With a voice like that, excuse the expression, you ought not to be an accoucheuse, but singing at public concerts. For instance, how divinely the trills emerge from you in that one (sings): “I loved
you, my love is yet in vain.”—Wonderful!
