ks weren't any stupider than we."
But can you reason with him, my dear, with his violent character?

MITYA. What is there to say? He's a harsh man.

PELAGEYA EGOROVNA. Lyubov is just at the right age now; we ought to be
settling her, but he keeps dinning it in: "There's no one her equal, no!
no!" But there is! But he says there isn't. How hard all this is for a
mother's heart.

MITYA. Perhaps Gordey Karpych wishes to marry Lyubov Gordeyevna in Moscow.

PELAGEYA EGOROVNA. Who knows what he has in his mind? He looks like a wild
beast, and never says a word, as if I were not a mother. Yes, truly, I
never say anything to him; I don't dare; all you can do is to speak with
some outsider about your grief, and weep, and relieve your heart; that's
all. [_Rises_] You'll come, Mitya?

MITYA. I'll come, ma'am.

GUSLIN _comes in_.

SCENE IV

The _same and_ GUSLIN

PELAGEYA EGOROVNA. Here's another fine lad! Come up-stairs to us, Yasha,
and sing songs with the girls; you're good at that; and bring along your
guitar.

GUSLIN. Thank you, ma'am: I don't think of that as work; I must say it's a
pleasure.

PELAGEYA EGOROVNA. Well, good-by! I'm going to take a nap for half an hour.

GUSLIN _and_ MITYA. Good-by.

PELAGEYA EGOROVNA _goes out_; MITYA _seats himself dejectedly at the
table_; GUSLIN _seats himself on the bed and takes up the guitar_.

SCENE V

MITYA _and_ YASHA GUSLIN

GUSLIN. What a crowd there was at the fair! Your people were there. Why
weren't you?

MITYA. Because I felt so awfully miserable.

GUSLIN. What's the matter? What are you unhappy about?

MITYA. How can I help being unhappy? Thoughts like these keep coming into
my head: what sort of man am I in the world? My mother is old and poor
now, and I must keep her--and how? My salary is small; I get nothing but
abuse and insults from Gordey Karpych; he keeps reproaching me with my
poverty, as if I were to blame--and he doesn't increase my salary. I'd
look for another place, but where can one find one without friends? And,
yes, I will confess to you that I won't go to another place.

GOSLIN. Why won't you go? There at the Razlyulyayevs' it's very nice--the
people are rich and kind.

MITYA. No, Yasha, that doesn't suit me! I'll bear anything from Gordey
Karpych, I'll stand poverty, but I won't go away. That's my destiny!

GUSLIN. Why so?

MITYA. [_Rises_] Well, I have a reason for this. It is, Yasha, because I
have another sorrow--b