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?