Zmewkin (sings): “I loved you, perhaps I still may love.”—That one?
Yat: That’s the one! Wonderful!
Zmewkin: No, I’m not in voice to-day. Take my fan, fan me; it’s so hot. (To Aplombov.) Why are you so melancholy? Can a bridegroom really be like that? Aren’t you ashamed, you contrary man? What are you thinking about?
Aplombov : Marriage is a serious step. You have to consider everything from all points of view
Zmewkin: How contrary you all are! What sceptics! Beside you I feel stifled! Give me atmosphere! Do you hear? Give me atmosphere! (Sings.)
Yat: Wonderful. Wonderful!
Zmewkin: Fan me, fan me! I feel my heart is just going to break. Tell me, please; why do I feel so hot?
Yat: Because you perspire.
Zmewkin: Pfui! What a vulgar creature you are! Don’t dare speak to me like that!
Yat: I beg your pardon. You have been used, I know, to, excuse the expression, aristocratic company, and
