“Stand to the gallants and starboard tops’l braces, and the port main braces, and port counter-braces,” orders the first officer. All is accomplished in a moment; halliard royals and tops’l lashings heaved. All right on board! (Stands up.) Off flies the vessel in the wind and at last the sails begin to get wet. The first officer cries, “The braces, don’t dawdle at the braces,” and fixes his eyes on the maintop, and when at last the tops’l gets wet, at that moment the vessel begins to tack, and you hear the loud command, “Loose the maintop halliards, let go the braces,” then everything flies off with a crack—like the Tower of Babel—and all is accomplished without a fault. You’ve tacked!
Nastasia (bursting out): But, General, you’re being unpleasant! You ought to know better, at your age! You’re unpleasant!
Revunov-Karayúlov: Pheasant? No, I haven’t had any. Thank you.
Nastasia (loudly): I said, you’re being unpleasant! You ought to know better, at your age, General.
Newnin (agitated): Now, come—there, there. Really
Revunov-Karayúlov: For the first thing, I’m not
