RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Samsón Sílych, I'll just take a thimbleful. He drinks, then puts on his spectacles, sits down beside BOLSHÓV, and looks at the newspapers.
BOLSHÓV. [Reads aloud] "Crown announcements, and from various societies. One, two, three, four, five, and six, from the Foundlings' Hospital." That's not in our line: it's not for us to buy peasants. "Seven and eight from Moscow University, from the Government Regencies, from the Office of the Board of Charities." Well, we'll pass that up, too. "From the City Council of Six." Now, sir, maybe there's something here! [He reads] "The Moscow City Council of Six hereby announces: Would not some one care to take in his charge the collection of taxes as named below?" That's not our line, you have to give security. "The Office of the Widows' Home hereby invites—" Let it invite, we won't go. "From the Orphans' Court." I haven't any father or mother, myself. [Examines farther] Aha! Here something's slipped up! Listen here, Lázar! "Year so-and-so, twelfth day of September, according to the decision of the Commerce Court, the merchant Fedót Selivérstov Pleshkóv, of the first guild, was declared an insolvent debtor, in consequence of which—" What's the use of explaining? Everybody knows the consequences. There you are, Fedót Selivérstov! What a grandee he was, and he's gone to smash! But say, Lázar, doesn't he owe us something?
PODKHALYÚZIN. He owes us a very little, sir. They took somewhere between six and eight barrels of sugar for home use.
BOLSHÓV. A bad business, Lázar. Well, he'll pay me back in full, out of friendliness.
PODKHALYÚZIN. It's doubtful, Sir.
BOLSHÓV. We'll settle it somehow. [Reads] "Moscow merchant of the first guild, Antíp Sysóyev Enótov, declared an insolvent debtor—" Does he owe us anything?
PODKHALYÚZIN. For vegetable oil, sir; just before Lent they took about three kegs, sir.
BOLSHÓV. Those blooming vegetarians that keep all the fasts! They want to please God at other people's expense. Brother, don't you trust their sedate ways! Those people cross themselves with one hand, and slip the other into your pocket. Here's the third; "Moscow merchant of the second guild, Efrém Lúkin Poluarshínnikov[1], declared an insolvent debtor." Well, what about him?
[Footnote 1: Half a yard.]
PODKHALYÚZIN. We have his note, sir.