SCENE V
PODKHALYÚZIN and RISPOLÓZHENSKY
PODKHALYÚZIN. Ah, my respects to you, sir!
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Mine to you, my dear Lázar Elizárych, mine to you! Fine. I think, now, perhaps there's something I can do. Is that vodka, near you? I'll just take a thimbleful, Lázar Elizárych. My hands have begun to shake mornings, especially the right one. When I go to write something, Lázar Elizárych, I have to hold it with my left. I swear I do. But take a sip of vodka, and it seems to do it good. [Drinks.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Why do your hands shake?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. [Sits down by the table] From anxiety, Lázar Elizárych; from anxiety, my boy.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Indeed, sir! But I suppose it's because you're plundering people overmuch. God is punishing you for your unrighteousness.
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. He, he, he!—Lázar Elizárych! How could I plunder anybody? My business is of a small sort. I'm like a little bird, picking up small grains.
PODKHALYÚZIN. You deal in small quantities, of course?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. You'd deal even in small quantities if you couldn't get anything else. Well, it wouldn't matter so much if I were alone; but, you see, I have a wife and four kiddies. They all want to eat, the little dears. One says, "Daddy, give me!" Another says, "Daddy, give me!" And I'm a man who feels strongly for his family. Here I entered one boy in the high school; he has to have a uniform, and then something else. And what's to become of the old shack?—Why, how much shoe-leather you wear out simply walking from Butírky to the Voskresénsky Gates.
PODKHALYÚZIN. That's right, sir.
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. And why do you make the trip? You write a little petition for one man, you register somebody else in the citizen class. Some days you'll not bring home half a ruble in silver. I vow, I'm not lying! Then what're you going to live on? Lázar Elizárych, I'll just take a thimbleful. [Drinks] "So," I think, "I'll just drop in on Lázar Elizárych; perhaps he'll spare me a little change."
PODKHALYÚZIN. For what sort of knavery, sir?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. What do you mean by knavery! Come, that's a sin, Lázar Elizárych! Don't I serve you? I'm your servant till the grave; command me what you want. And I fixed up the mortgage for you!
PODKHALYÚZIN. See here, you've been paid! And it's not your business to keep harping on the same string!
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Just so, Lázar Elizárych, I've been paid. Just so! Ah,
Lázar Elizárych, poverty has crushed me!
PODKHALYÚZIN. Poverty crushed you! Oh, that happens, sir. [He approaches and sits down by the table] Well, sir, I have a little extra money; I've no place to put it. [Lays his pocketbook on the table.
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. What, you, Lázar Elizárych? Extra money? I'm afraid you're joking.
PODKHALYÚZIN. All joking aside, sir.
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Well, if you have a little extra money, why not help a poor man? God'll reward you for it.
PODKHALYÚZIN. But d'you need much?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Give me just three rubles.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Is that all, sir?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Well, give me five.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Oh, ask more!
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Well, then, if you'll be so good, give me ten.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Ten, sir! What, for nothing?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Indeed not! I'll work it off, Lázar Elizárych; we'll be quits sometime or other.
PODKHALYÚZIN. That's all talk, sir. The snail keeps going, and sometime she'll get there! But here's the little business I want to put up to you now: did Samsón Sílych promise you much for fixing up this scheme?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. I'm ashamed to tell you, Lázar Elizárych! A thousand rubles and an old coon-skin overcoat. No one will accept less than I, by heavens; just go and inquire prices.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Well, here's what, Sysóy Psoich; I'll give you two thousand for that identical business, sir.
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Oh, Lázar Elizárych, my benefactor! I and my wife and children'll be your slaves!
PODKHALYÚZIN. One hundred in silver, spot cash; but the rest later upon the completion of the whole business, sir!
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Now, then, how can one help praying for people like you! Only a kind of ignorant swine could fail to feel that. I bow down to your feet, Lázar Elizárych!
PODKHALYÚZIN. Really now, what for, sir? Only, Sysóy Psoich, don't run about like a chicken with its head cut off, but go in for accuracy—straight to the point, and walk the line. Do you understand, sir?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. How can I help understanding? Why, Lázar Elizárych, do you think I'm still a boy? It's time I understood!
PODKHALYÚZIN. Yes, but what do you understand? Here's the way things are, sir. Just listen first. Samsón Sílych and I came to town, and we brought along the list as was proper. Then he went to the creditors: this one didn't agree, that one didn't agree; that's the way, and not a single one will take up the proposition. That's the way the affair stands.
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. What's that you say, Lázar Elizárych? Oh! Just think of it, what a gang.
PODKHALYÚZIN. And how are we going to make a good thing out of this business now? Do you understand me, or not?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. That is, the insolvency, Lázar Elizárych?
PODKHALYÚZIN. The insolvency will take care of itself; but I mean my own business affairs.
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. He, he, he!—That is, the house and the shops—even—the house—he, he, he!——
PODKHALYÚZIN. What's the matter, sir?
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. No, sir; that's just my foolishness; I was just joking.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Fine jokes, indeed! Don't you joke about that, sir. The house is nothing; I have such a dream in my head now about that subject, that I must talk it over with you at length. Just come to my room, sir. Tishka!