“Let me get in, too, mates,” shouted a young man in the crowd whose appetite was aroused.

They all clambered into Mikolka’s cart, laughing and making jokes. Six men got in and there was still room for more. They hauled in a fat, rosy-cheeked woman. She was dressed in red cotton, in a pointed, beaded headdress and thick leather shoes; she was cracking nuts and laughing. The crowd round them was laughing too…

“All right! Give it to her!”

“Don’t you mind her, mates, bring a whip each of you, get ready!”

“She’ll jog along!”

“Gallop indeed! She has not had a gallop in her for the last ten years!”

“Get in! Come along!” The crowd laughed. “D’you hear, she’ll gallop!”

“Get in, I’ll take you all,” Mikolka shouted again, leaping first into the cart, seizing the reins and standing straight up in front. “The bay has gone with Matvey,” he shouted from the cart—”and this brute, mates, is just breaking my heart, I feel as if I could kill her. She’s just eating her head off. Get in, I tell…

“And this mare is twenty if she is a day, mates!”

“Why, Mikolka, are you crazy to put a nag like that in such a cart?”

“Take us all with a beast like that!”

But at once there was an outbreak of laughter and exclamations in the crowd.

“Get in, get in!” shouted one of them, a young thick-necked peasant with a fleshy face red as a carrot. “I’ll take you all, get in!”

Raskolnikov had a fearful dream. He dreamt he was back in his childhood in the little town of his birth. He was a child about seven years old, walking into the country with his father on the evening of a holiday. It was a grey and heavy day, the country was exactly as he remembered it; indeed he recalled it far more…

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

PROSPERO
Come, follow. Speak not for him.
Exeunt

ARIEL
To the syllable.

PROSPERO
Thou shalt be free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.

MIRANDA
Be of comfort;
My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.

PROSPERO
[Aside] It works.
To FERDINAND