Juhani: Oh little brother! I believe thou wouldst talk differently if thou hadst looked around thee a little more in this world, if thou hadst been, for instance, in Turku Town. That’s what I’ve done when I drove the bulls there from Viertola Manor. I saw more than one thing to wonder at there, saw how pomp and glitter can turn the heads of sons of men. Ah thee, ah rowdy village, ah wordly [sic] life indeed! There rattles a carriage, here another, and in them sit the most fly-away fools with whiskery faces, and girls in them like porcelain dolls, spreading far around them a thick scent of costly oils and ointments. But look yonder! Help and save me! there, all in gilded feathers, minces a real jewel of a madam or miss, whatever she be. See her neck! White as curdled milk, cheeks red as the plague, and the eyes in her head burn like two bonfires in daylight as a true rapscallion of a lad sails up to her in a hat, shiny black tails, and peeps … well, may the Devil himself take thee! – peeps at her through a square bit of glass that gleams in the rascal’s left eye. But now … by the Seven Smiths! – now they bob and bow on both sides, and see the woman purse up her mouth to a real strawberry of a mouth and twitter like a swallow on a sunlit roof, and the nob before her wag his hand and his tail, wave his hat and scrape his foot till the paving strikes sparks, ah, that was a game for you. Oh jays that ye are, thinks I to myself, a bit of a boy, standing there at the street corner, a bunch of raw hides on my shoulder and staring mouth agape at this billing.

Tuomas: Gentlefolk are fools.

Timo: And childish as milk-chinned brats. So they eat, too, with rags over their chests and without – dog take me – knowing enough to lick their spoons clean when they rise from table; that I have seen with my own eyes to my great surprise.

Simeoni: But at tricking and cheating a farmer they are man enough. (118-19)

Juhani: Oh, little brother! You would sing another song if you’d seen a little more of the world—if you had been to Turku, for example. I was there once driving oxen from Viertola Manor. It made me wonder to see how show and display can turn a man’s head. Oh roaring town! Oh dizzy life! Coaches rumbling here, there, and everywhere. Sitting in them are clowns with mustaches, girls like china dolls filling the air with the smell of costly lotions. But look over there! Jesus save me! There’s a real temptress, a mam’selle or miss or whatever, comes tripping up all decked out in gold feathers. Look at her neck! It’s white as milk. Her cheeks are fever-red, her eyes blaze like a daytime bonfire. And toward her comes a poor excuse for a man wearing a top hat and a shiny black tailcoat, and squinting—the devil take him—squinting through a square piece of glass that gleams on the scalawag’s left eye. And look at them now, the two of them wigwagging at one another, she puckers up her mouth like a strawberry and twitters like a swallow on a roof by day, and the humbug of a man before her tosses his tail with one hand, waves his hat with the other, and scrapes sparks from the paving stones with his feet. “Oh you popinjays!” I thought as I stood there on the street corner, just a kid with a bundle of fresh oxhides on my shoulder, grinning at this mating dance.

Tuomas: Gentlemen are really clowns.

Timo: As childish as milk-bearded brats. And the way they eat, too, with rags over their chests. And—doggone it—they can’t even lick their spoons clean when they leave the table. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, and I was really amazed.

Simeoni: But when it comes to cheating and ripping off a farmer—they’re mighty good at that. (107-8)

JUHANI. Blessed fig ‘s end, brother! methinks you ‘ld talk out of your mouth ‘s other side an you ‘ld of but seed a bit more of this old world, like say an you ‘ld of been to Turku Town, like I have, that time I drove bulls thence from Viertola Manor. I tell you, they ‘ve gone about as far as they can go, down there. I saw with mine own eyne how daubery and ‘dornment can set a man ‘s mazzard a-spin, yes sir. O you fardels and fantasticoes, O you clamouring city! Carriages clattering this way and that with citizens in ‘em wearing big curly moustachios, and girls like Cataian dolls, strowing their scents from them fancy greases and oils they smear all o’er theirselves. But look o’er there! Cheeses and rice! ‘Tis a merry mamzell, or a frisky frakin, or what have you, sashaying ‘long in gold feathers. And behold her throat! White as a pail of fresh milk, aye, and cheeks red as the plague, and her eyne burn in her head like a geminy of bonfires in great morning, soon ‘s she spies a layabout lace curtain of a Count Confect in a shiny black hat and tails, squinying—a pox on him!—squinying thro’ a square glass squinch’t up to his left eye there. And now lo—Siamese sailors seven!—now there ‘s bowing and scraping on both sides, as the brach puckers her lips up like a earthberry and skirls like a swallow singing off somebody ‘s sunlit roof, and the finical fop flutters his fingers and twitches his tail, daffs his hat and strikes sparks on the cobblestones with his chopines. Some sport, eh? You maggot-pies! mutter’d I, a mere boy standing there on the street corner, a load of oxhides o’er my shoulder and a big smile on my face, watching them grouses go at it.

TUOMAS. Cavaleros is chuffs.

TIMO. And childish as a kid with a buttermilk mustache. And they eat with rags round their necks, and—dog take it, I seen it my own self, to my great gloppenment—they wot not e’en how to lick a spoon when they ‘s finisht.

SIMEONI. But they ‘s man enough to cog and cony-catch a carlot.