Do you know anything about a Russian marriage ceremony?
Read this article about a Russian wedding.
Preparations for a Russian Wedding: A Russian wedding
is very simple. The planning only includes arranging for
rings, brides' dress, cars, and a reception. Earlier, the bride's
family paid for the reception, but now-a-days brides' and
grooms' families usually share expenses. A Russian wedding
lasts for two days; some weddings last as long as a week,
and the occasion becomes something to remember for years.
The necessary part of the wedding ceremony is a wedding
procession of several cars. The best friends of the groom/
bride meet before the wedding a few times, make posters,
write speeches and organise contests. When the groom
arrives to fetch the bride for the registration, he has to fight
to get her! Russians usually live in apartments in tall
buildings, and the groom has to climb several stairs to reach
his bride. But at each landing he must answer a question
to be allowed to go up. The bride's friends ask difficult
questions (sometimes about the bride, sometimes just
difficult riddles), and the groom must answer with the help
of his friends. For example, he may be shown a few photos
of baby girls and he must say which one his bride is. If he
guesses wrong, he must pay cash to move ahead. After the
marriage registration, the newly-married couple leaves the
guests for a tour of the city sights. After two or three hours
of the city tour the couple arrives at the reception. The couple
sits at a specially arranged table with their family, friends
and invited guests. The reception starts with toasts to the
couple. A wedding toast is a custom where a close friend or
relative of the groom or the bride says a few words to wish
the couple, then everyone raises their glass of wine, and
drink it up at the same moment. The groom is then asked to
kiss the bride. After a few toasts, people start eating and
drinking, and generally have fun. After some time, the bride
gets 'stolen'! She disappears, and when the groom starts
looking for her, he is asked to pay a fee. Usually it is his
friends who 'steal' the bride. Then there are the bride's
friends — they steal the bride's shoe. The groom must pay
money for the shoe too. The guests enjoy watching these
tussles, and continue partying.
'The Proposal' originally titled 'A Marriage Proposal') is a one-act
play, a farce, by the Russian short story writer and dramatist Anton
Chekhov. It was written in 1888–89.
The play is about the tendency of wealthy families to seek ties
with other wealthy families, to increase their estates by encouraging
marriages that make good economic sense. Ivan Lomov, a long time
wealthy neighbour of Stepan Chubukov, also wealthy, comes to
seek the hand of Chubukov's twenty-five-year-old daughter, Natalya.
All three are quarrelsome people, and they quarrel over petty issues.
The proposal is in danger of being forgotten amidst all this
quarrelling. But economic good sense ensures that the proposal is
made, after all — although the quarrelling perhaps continues!
A drawing-room in Chubukov's house.
Lomov enters, wearing a dress-jacket and white gloves. Chubukov rises
to meet him.
CHUBUKOV : My dear fellow, whom do I see! Ivan Vassilevitch! I am
extremely glad! [Squeezes his hand] Now this is a
surprise, my darling... How are you?
LOMOV : Thank you. And how may you be getting on?
CHUBUKOV : We just get along somehow, my angel, thanks to your
prayers, and so on. Sit down, please do... Now, you know,
you shouldn't forget all about your neighbours, my darling.
My dear fellow, why are you so formal in your get-up!
Evening dress, gloves, and so on. Can you be going
anywhere, my treasure?
LOMOV : No. I've come only to see you, honoured Stepan
CHUBUKOV : Then why are you in evening dress, my precious? As if
you're paying a New Year's Eve visit!
LOMOV : Well, you see, it's like this. [Takes his arm] I've come to you,
honoured Stepan Stepanovitch, to trouble you with a request.
Not once or twice have I already had the privilege of applying
to you for help, and you have always, so to speak... I must
ask your pardon, I am getting excited. I shall drink some
water, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch.
CHUBUKOV : [aside] He's come to borrow money. Shan't give him any!
[aloud] What is it, my beauty?
LOMOV : You see, Honoured Stepanitch... I beg pardon Stepan
Honouritch... I mean, I'm awfully excited, as you will
please notice... In short, you alone can help me, though I
don't deserve it, of course... and haven't any right to
count on your assistance...
CHUBUKOV : Oh, don't go round and round it, darling! Spit it out! Well?
LOMOV : One moment... this very minute. The fact is I've come to
ask the hand of your daughter, Natalya Stepanovna, in marriage.
CHUBUKOV : [joyfully] By Jove! Ivan Vassilevitch! Say it again — I
didn't hear it all!
LOMOV : I have the honour to ask...
CHUBUKOV : [interrupting] My dear fellow... I'm so glad, and so on...
Yes, indeed, and all that sort of thing. [Embraces and kisses
Lomov] I've been hoping for it for a long time. It's been my
continual desire. [Sheds a tear] And I've always loved you,
my angel, as if you were my own son. May God give you
both — His help and His love and so on, and so much
hope... What am I behaving in this idiotic way for? I'm off
my balance with joy, absolutely off my balance! Oh, with
all my soul... I'll go and call Natasha, and all that.
LOMOV : [greatly moved] Honoured Stepan Stepanovitch, do you
think I may count on her consent?
CHUBUKOV : Why, of course, my darling, and... as if she won't consent!
She's in love; egad, she's like a lovesick cat, and so on.
Shan't be long!
LOMOV : It's cold... I'm trembling all over, just as if I'd got an
examination before me. The great thing is, I must have
my mind made up. If I give myself time to think, to
hesitate, to talk a lot, to look for an ideal, or for real
love, then I'll never get married. Brr... It's cold! Natalya.
Stepanovna is an excellent housekeeper, not bad-looking,
well-educated. What more do I want? But I'm getting a
noise in my ears from excitement. [Drinks] And it's
impossible for me not to marry. In the first place, I'm
already 35 — a critical age, so to speak. In the second
place, I ought to lead a quiet and regular life. I suffer
from palpitations, I'm excitable and always getting
awfully upset; at this very moment my lips are trembling,
and there's a twitch in my right eyebrow. But the very
worst of all is the way I sleep. I no sooner get into bed
and begin to go off, when suddenly something in my left
side gives a pull, and I can feel it in my shoulder and
head... I jump up like a lunatic, walk about a bit and lie
down again, but as soon as I begin to get off to sleep
there's another pull! And this may happen twenty times...
[Natalya Stepanovna comes in.]
NATLYA : Well, there! It's you, and papa said, "Go; there's a
merchant come for his goods." How do you do, Ivan Vassilevitch?
LOMOV : How do you do, honoured Natalya Stepanovna?
NATALYA : You must excuse my apron and neglige. We're shelling
peas for drying. Why haven't you been here for such a
long time? Sit down... [They seat themselves.] Won't you
have some lunch?
LOMOV : No, thank you, I've had some already.
NATALYA : Then smoke. Here are the matches. The weather is
splendid now, but yesterday it was so wet that the workmen
didn't do anything all day. How much hay have you
stacked? Just think, I felt greedy and had a whole field
cut, and now I'm not at all pleased about it because I'm
afraid my hay may rot. I ought to have waited a bit. But
what's this? Why, you're in evening dress! Well, I never!
Are you going to a ball or what? Though I must say you
look better... Tell me, why are you got up like that?
LOMOV : [excited] You see, honoured Natalya Stepanovna... the
fact is, I've made up my mind to ask you to hear me out...
Of course you'll be surprised and perhaps even angry,
but a... [aside] It's awfully cold!
NATALYA : What's the matter? [pause] Well?
LOMOV : I shall try to be brief. You must know, honoured Natalya
Stepanovna, that I have long, since my childhood, in fact
had the privilege of knowing your family. My late aunt
and her husband, from whom, as you know, I inherited
my land, always had the greatest respect for your father
and your late mother. The Lomovs and the Chubukovs
have always had the most friendly, and I might almost
say the most affectionate, regard for each other. And, as
you know, my land is a near neighbour of yours. You will
remember that my Oxen Meadows touch your birchwoods.
NATALYA : Excuse my interrupting you. You say, "my Oxen Meadows".
But are they yours?
LOMOV : Yes, mine.
NATALYA : What are you talking about? Oxen Meadows are ours,
LOMOV : No, mine, honoured Natalya Stepanovna.
NATALYA : Well, I never knew that before. How do you make that
LOMOV : How? I'm speaking of those Oxen Meadows which are
wedged in between your birchwoods and the Burnt
NATALYA : Yes, yes... they're ours.
LOMOV : No, you're mistaken, honoured Natalya Stepanovna,
NATALYA : Just think, Ivan Vassilevitch! How long have they been
LOMOV : How long? As long as I can remember.
NATALYA : Really, you won't get me to believe that!
LOMOV : But you can see from the documents, honoured Natalya
Stepanovna. Oxen Meadows, it's true, were once the
subject of dispute, but now everybody knows that they
are mine. There's nothing to argue about. You see my
aunt's grandmother gave the free use of these Meadows
in perpetuity to the peasants of your father's grandfather,
in return for which they were to make bricks for her. The
peasants belonging to your father's grandfather had the
free use of the Meadows for forty years, and had got into
the habit of regarding them as their own, when it
NATALYA : No, it isn't at all like that! Both grandfather and greatgrandfather
reckoned that their land extended to Burnt
Marsh — which means that Oxen Meadows were ours. I
don't see what there is to argue about. It's simply silly!
LOMOV : I'll show you the documents, Natalya Stepanovna!
NATALYA : No, you're simply joking, or making fun of me. What a
surprise! We've had the land for nearly three hundred
years, and then we're suddenly told that it isn't ours!
Ivan Vassilevitch, I can hardly believe my own ears. These
Meadows aren't worth much to me. They only come to
five dessiatins, and are worth perhaps 300 roubles, but I
can't stand unfairness. Say what you will, I can't stand
LOMOV : Hear me out, I implore you! The peasants of your father's
grandfather, as I have already had the honour of
explaining to you, used to bake bricks for my aunt's
grandmother. Now my aunt's grandmother, wishing to
make them a pleasant...
NATALYA : I can't make head or tail of all this about aunts and
grandfathers and grandmothers. The Meadows are ours,
LOMOV : Mine.
NATALYA : Ours! You can go on proving it for two days on end, you
can go and put on fifteen dress jackets, but I tell you
they're ours, ours, ours! I don't want anything of yours
and I don't want to give anything of mine. So there!
LOMOV : Natalya Stepanovna, I don't want the Meadows, but I am
acting on principle. If you like, I'll make you a present
NATALYA : I can make you a present of them myself, because they're
mine! Your behaviour, Ivan Vassilevitch, is strange, to
say the least! Up to this we have always thought of you
as a good neighbour, a friend; last year we lent you our
threshing-machine, although on that account we had to
put off our own threshing till November, but you behave
to us as if we were gypsies. Giving me my own land,
indeed! No, really, that's not at all neighbourly! In my
opinion, it's even impudent, if you want to know.
LOMOV : Then you make out that I'm a landgrabber? Madam, never
in my life have I grabbed anybody else's land and I shan't
allow anybody to accuse me of having done so. [Quickly
steps to the carafe and drinks more water] Oxen Meadows
NATALYA : It's not true, they're ours!
LOMOV : Mine!
NATALYA : It's not true! I'll prove it! I'll send my mowers out to the
Meadows this very day!
LOMOV : What?
NATALYA : My mowers will be there this very day!
LOMOV : I'll give it to them in the neck!
NATALYA : You dare!
LOMOV : [Clutches at his heart] Oxen Meadows are mine! You
NATALYA : Please don't shout! You can shout yourself hoarse in your
own house but here I must ask you to restrain yourself!
LOMOV : If it wasn't, madam, for this awful, excruciating
palpitation, if my whole inside wasn't upset, I'd talk to
you in a different way! [Yells] Oxen Meadows are mine!
NATALYA : Ours!
LOMOV : Mine!
NATALYA : Ours!
LOMOV : Mine!
A Russian Wedding - Part 2.
CHUBUKOV : What's the matter? What are you shouting for?
NATALYA : Papa, please tell this gentleman who owns Oxen
Meadows, we or he?
CHUBUKOV : [to Lomov] Darling, the Meadows are ours!
LOMOV : But, please, Stepan Stepanovitch, how can they be yours?
Do be a reasonable man! My aunt's grandmother gave
the Meadows for the temporary and free use of your
grandfather's peasants. The peasants used the land for
forty years and got accustomed to it as if it was their
own, when it happened that...
CHUBUKOV : Excuse me, my precious. You forget just this, that the
peasants didn't pay your grandmother and all that,
because the Meadows were in dispute, and so on. And
now everybody knows that they're ours. It means that
you haven't seen the plan.
LOMOV : I'll prove to you that they're mine!
CHUBUKOV : You won't prove it, my darling -
LOMOV : I shall
CHUBUKOV : Dear one, why yell like that? You won't prove anything
just by yelling. I don't want anything of yours, and don't
intend to give up what I have. Why should I? And you
know, my beloved, that if you propose to go on arguing
about it, I'd much sooner give up the Meadows to the
peasants than to you. There!
LOMOV : I don't understand! How have you the right to give away
somebody else's property?
CHUBUKOV : You may take it that I know whether I have the right or
not. Because, young man, I'm not used to being spoken
to in that tone of voice, and so on. I, young man, am
twice your age, and ask you to speak to me without
agitating yourself, and all that.
LOMOV : No, you just think I'm a fool and want to have me on! You
call my land yours, and then you want me to talk to you
calmly and politely! Good neighbours don't behave like
that, Stepan Stepanovitch! You're not a neighbour, you're
CHUBUKOV : What's that? What did you say?
NATALYA : Papa, send the mowers out to the Meadows at once!
CHUBUKOV : What did you say, sir?
NATALYA : Oxen Meadows are ours, and I shan't give them up, shan't
give them up, shan't give them up!
LOMOV : We'll see! I'll have the matter taken to court, and then I'll
CHUBUKOV : To court? You can take it to court, and all that! You can!
I know you; you're just on the look-out for a chance to go
to court, and all that. You pettifogger! All your people
were like that! All of them!
LOMOV : Never mind about my people! The Lomovs have all been
honourable people, and not one has ever been tried for
embezzlement, like your grandfather!
CHUBUKOV : You Lomovs have had lunacy in your family, all of you!
NATALYA : All, all, all!
CHUBUKOV : Your grandfather was a drunkard, and your younger aunt,
Nastasya Mihailovna, ran away with an architect, and
LOMOV : And your mother was hump-backed. [Clutches at his heart]
Something pulling in my side... My head.... Help! Water!
CHUBUKOV : Your father was a guzzling gambler!
NATALYA : And there haven't been many backbiters to equal your
CHUBUKOV : My left foot has gone to sleep... You're an intriguer....Oh,
my heart! And it's an open secret that before the last
elections you bri... I can see stars... Where's my hat?
NATALYA : It's low! It's dishonest! It's mean!
CHUBUKOV : And you're just a malicious, doublefaced intriguer! Yes!
LOMOV : Here's my hat. My heart! Which way? Where's the door?
Oh I think I'm dying! My foot's quite numb...
[Goes to the door.]
CHUBUKOV : [following him] And don't set foot in my house again!
NATALYA : Take it to court! We'll see!
[Lomov staggers out.]
CHUBUKOV : Devil take him!
[Walks about in excitement.]
NATALYA : What a rascal! What trust can one have in one's
neighbours after that!
CHUBUKOV : The villain! The scarecrow!
NATALYA : The monster! First he takes our land and then he has
the impudence to abuse us.
CHUBUKOV : And that blind hen, yes, that turnip-ghost has the
confounded cheek to make a proposal, and so on! What?
NATALYA : What proposal?
CHUBUKOV : Why, he came here to propose to you.
NATALYA : To propose? To me? Why didn't you tell me so before?
CHUBUKOV : So he dresses up in evening clothes. The stuffed sausage!
The wizen-faced frump!
NATALYA : To propose to me? Ah! [Falls into an easy-chair and wails]
Bring him back! Back! Ah! Bring him here.
CHUBUKOV : Bring whom here?
NATALYA : Quick, quick! I'm ill! Fetch him!
CHUBUKOV : What's that? What's the matter with you? [Clutches at
his head] Oh, unhappy man that I am! I'll shoot myself!
I'll hang myself! We've done for her!
NATALYA : I'm dying! Fetch him!
CHUBUKOV : Tfoo! At once. Don't yell!
[Runs out. A pause.]
NATALYA : [Natalya Stepanovna wails.] What have they done to me?
Fetch him back! Fetch him!
[A pause. Chubukov runs in.]
CHUBUKOV : He's coming, and so on, devil take him! Ouf! Talk to him
yourself; I don't want to...
NATALYA : [wails] Fetch him!
CHUBUKOV : [yells] He's coming, I tell you. Oh, what a burden, Lord, to
be the father of a grown-up daughter! I'll cut my throat I
will, indeed! We cursed him, abused him, drove him out;
and it's all you... you!
NATALYA : No, it was you!
CHUBUKOV : I tell you it's not my fault. [Lomov appears at the door]
Now you talk to him yourself.
LOMOV : [Lomov enters, exhausted.] My heart's palpitating awfully.
My foot's gone to sleep. There's something that keeps
pulling in my side....
NATALYA : Forgive us, Ivan Vassilevitch, we were all a little heated.
I remember now: Oxen Meadows... really are yours.
LOMOV : My heart's beating awfully. My Meadows... My eyebrows
are both twitching....
NATALYA : The Meadows are yours, yes, yours. Do sit down. [They
sit] We were wrong.
LOMOV : I did it on principle. My land is worth little to me, but the
NATALYA : Yes, the principle, just so. Now let's talk of something else.
LOMOV : The more so as I have evidence. My aunt's grandmother
gave the land to your father's grandfather's peasants...
NATALYA : Yes, yes, let that pass. [aside] I wish I knew how to get
him started. [aloud] Are you going to start shooting soon?
LOMOV : I'm thinking of having a go at the blackcock, honoured
Natalya Stepanovna, after the harvest. Oh, have you
heard? Just think, what a misfortune I've had! My dog
Guess, who you know, has gone lame.
NATALYA : What a pity! Why?
LOMOV : I don't know. Must have got his leg twisted or bitten by
some other dog. [sighs] My very best dog, to say nothing
of the expense. I gave Mironov 125 roubles for him.
NATALYA : It was too much, Ivan Vassilevitch.
LOMOV : I think it was very cheap. He's a first-rate dog.
NATALYA : Papa gave 85 roubles for his Squeezer, and Squeezer is
heaps better than Guess!
LOMOV : Squeezer better than Guess? What an idea! [laughs]
Squeezer better than Guess!
NATALYA : Of course he's better! Of course, Squeezer is young, he
may develop a bit, but on points and pedigree he's better
than anything that even Volchanetsky has got.
LOMOV : Excuse me, Natalya Stepanovna, but you forget that he
is overshot, and an overshot always means the dog is a
NATALYA : Overshot, is he? The first time I hear it!
LOMOV : I assure you that his lower jaw is shorter than the upper.
NATALYA : Have you measured?
LOMOV : Yes. He's all right at following, of course, but if you want
to get hold of anything...
NATALYA : In the first place, our Squeezer is a thoroughbred animal,
the son of Harness and Chisels while there's no getting
at the pedigree of your dog at all. He's old and as ugly as
a worn-out cab-horse.
LOMOV : He is old, but I wouldn't take five Squeezers for him.
Why, how can you? Guess is a dog; as for Squeezer, well,
it's too funny to argue. Anybody you like has a dog as
good as Squeezer... you may find them under every bush
almost. Twenty-five roubles would be a handsome price
to pay for him.
NATALYA : There's some demon of contradition in you today, Ivan
Vassilevitch. First you pretend that the Meadows are
yours; now, that Guess is better than Squeezer. I don't
like people who don't say what they mean, because
you know perfectly well that Squeezer is a hundred
times better than your silly Guess. Why do you want
to say he isn't?
LOMOV : I see, Natalya Stepanovna, that you consider me either
blind or a fool. You must realise that Squeezer is overshot!
NATALYA : It's not true.
LOMOV : He is!
NATALYA : It's not true!
LOMOV : Why shout madam?
NATALYA : Why talk rot? It's awful! It's time your Guess was shot,
and you compare him with Squeezer!
LOMOV : Excuse me, I cannot continue this discussion, my heart
NATALYA : I've noticed that those hunters argue most who know least.
LOMOV : Madam, please be silent. My heart is going to pieces.
[shouts] Shut up!
NATALYA : I shan't shut up until you acknowledge that Squeezer is
a hundred times better than your Guess!
LOMOV : A hundred times worse! Be hanged to your Squeezer! His
head... eyes... shoulder...
NATALYA : There's no need to hang your silly Guess; he's half-dead
LOMOV : [weeps] Shut up! My heart's bursting!
NATALYA : I shan't shut up.
CHUBUKOV : What's the matter now?
NATALYA : Papa, tell us truly, which is the better dog, our Squeezer
or his Guess.
LOMOV : Stepan Stepanovitch, I implore you to tell me just one
thing: is your Squeezer overshot or not? Yes or no?
CHUBUKOV : And suppose he is? What does it matter? He's the best dog
in the district for all that, and so on.
LOMOV : But isn't my Guess better? Really, now?
CHUBUKOV : Don't excite yourself, my precious one. Allow me. Your
Guess certainly has his good points. He's purebred, firm
on his feet, has well-sprung ribs, and all that. But, my
dear man, if you want to know the truth, that dog has
two defects: he's old and he's short in the muzzle.
LOMOV : Excuse me, my heart... Let's take the facts. You will
remember that on the Marusinsky hunt my Guess ran
neck-and-neck with the Count's dog, while your Squeezer
was left a whole verst behind.
CHUBUKOV : He got left behind because the Count's whipper-in hit
him with his whip.
LOMOV : And with good reason. The dogs are running after a fox,
when Squeezer goes and starts worrying a sheep!
CHUBUKOV : It's not true! My dear fellow, I'm very liable to lose my
temper, and so, just because of that, let's stop arguing.
You started because everybody is always jealous of
everybody else's dogs. Yes, we're all like that! You too, sir,
aren't blameless! You no sooner begin with this, that and
the other, and all that... I remember everything!
LOMOV : I remember too!
CHUBUKOV : [teasing him] I remember, too! What do you remember?
LOMOV : My heart... my foot's gone to sleep. I can't...
NATALYA : [teasing] My heart! What sort of a hunter are you? You
ought to go and lie on the kitchen oven and catch black
beetles, not go after foxes! My heart!
CHUBUKOV : Yes really, what sort of a hunter are you, anyway? You
ought to sit at home with your palpitations, and not go
tracking animals. You could go hunting, but you only go
to argue with people and interfere with their dogs and so
on. Let's change the subject in case I lose my temper.
You're not a hunter at all, anyway!
LOMOV : And are you a hunter? You only go hunting to get in with
the Count and to intrigue. Oh, my heart! You're an
CHUBUKOV : What? I am an intriguer? [shouts] Shut up!
LOMOV : Intriguer!
CHUBUKOV : Boy! Pup!
LOMOV : Old rat! Jesuit!
CHUBUKOV : Shut up or I'll shoot you like a partridge! You fool!
LOMOV : Everybody knows that - oh, my heart! - your late wife
used to beat you... My feet... temples... sparks... I fall,
CHUBUKOV : And you're under the slipper of your house-keeper!
LOMOV : There, there, there... my heart's burst! My shoulders come
off! Where is my shoulder? I die. [Falls into an armchair] A
CHUBUKOV : Boy! Milksop! Fool! I'm sick! [Drinks water] Sick!
NATALYA : What sort of a hunter are you? You can't even sit on a
horse! [To her father] Papa, what's the matter with him?
Papa! Look, Papa! [screams] Ivan Vassilevitch! He's dead!
CHUBUKOV : I'm sick! I can't breathe! Air!
NATALYA : He's dead. [Pulls Lomov's sleeve] Ivan Vassilevitch! Ivan
Vassilevitch! What have you done to me? He's dead. [Falls
into an armchair] A doctor, a doctor!
CHUBUKOV : Oh! What is it? What's the matter?
NATALYA : [wails] He's dead... dead!
CHUBUKOV : Who's dead? [Looks at Lomov] So he is! My word! Water!
A doctor! [Lifts a tumbler to Lomov's mouth] Drink this!
No, he doesn't drink. It means he's dead, and all that.
I'm the most unhappy of men! Why don't I put a bullet
into my brain? Why haven't I cut my throat yet? What
am I waiting for? Give me a knife! Give me a pistol! [Lomov
moves] He seems to be coming round. Drink some water!
LOMOV : I see stars... mist... where am I?
CHUBUKOV : Hurry up and get married and - well, to the devil with
you! She's willing! [He puts Lomov's hand into his
daughter's] She's willing and all that. I give you my
blessing and so on. Only leave me in peace!
LOMOV : [getting up] Eh? What? To whom?
CHUBUKOV : She's willing! Well? Kiss and be damned to you!
NATALYA : [wails] He's alive... Yes, yes, I'm willing.
CHUBUKOV : Kiss each other!
LOMOV : Eh? Kiss whom? [They kiss] Very nice, too. Excuse me,
what's it all about? Oh, now I understand ... my heart...
stars... I'm happy. Natalya Stepanovna... [Kisses her hand]
My foot's gone to sleep.
NATALYA : I... I'm happy too...
CHUBUKOV : What a weight off my shoulders, ouf!
NATALYA : But, still you will admit now that Guess is worse than
LOMOV : Better!
NATALYA : Worse!
CHUBUKOV : Well, that's a way to start your family bliss! Have some
LOMOV : He's better!
NATALYA : Worse! Worse! Worse!
CHUBUKOV : [trying to shout her down] Champagne! Champagne!
Online Lessons with Spoken text and correct pronounciation