Stout Lady. I want to ask about my stomach. May I? I want to ask what I had better take, aconite or belladonna?
(Silence. Whispering in the young people's corner, and suddenly Vasíli Leonídych cries like a suckling babe: "Ooah, ooah!" Laughter. Holding their noses and mouths, and snorting, the young women run out with Petríshchev.)
Stout Lady. Ah, no doubt, this monk is born anew!
Leoníd Fédorovich (furious, in an angry whisper). You can't do anything but foolish things! If you can't behave, go out! (Vasíli Leonídych exit.)
Stout Lady. Oh, what a pity! Now I can't ask any more! He is born now!
Leoníd Fédorovich. Not at all. That was Vovó's foolishness. He is here. Ask him!
Professor. This often happens: these jests and this ridicule are a very common phenomenon. I assume that he is still here. Anyway, we may ask. Leoníd Fédorovich, you ask!
Leoníd Fédorovich. No, if you please, you ask! This has put me out. It is so disagreeable! This tactlessness—
Professor. All right! All right! Nicholas, are you here?
(Tánya raps twice and rings the bell. Semén begins to bellow and to wave his hands. Gets hold of Sakhátov and of the Professor and chokes them.)
Professor. Such an unexpected manifestation! An interaction on the medium himself. This is entirely new. Leoníd Fédorovich, you keep watch, I am in an uncom-
