USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. But, my dear, it's impossible! I'd be tickled to death, but I've given my word.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Just as you please, ma'am! But if you betroth her to the other fellow, you'll bring such bad luck upon yourself, that you'll not get clear afterwards!
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. But just consider yourself, how'll I have the nerve to show my face before Samsón Sílych? I gave it to him hot and heavy: that the fellow is rich, and handsome, and so much in love that he is half dead; and now what'll I say? You know yourself what a fellow Samsón Sílych is; you see he'll pull my cap over my ears before you know it.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Pull your cap nothing, ma'am!
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. And I've got the girl all worked up. Twice a day she sends to me and asks: "What's the matter with my suitor?" and, "What's he like?"
PODKHALYÚZIN. But don't you run away from your own good fortune, Ustinya Naúmovna. Do you want two thousand rubles and a sable cloak for merely arranging this wedding, ma'am? But let our understanding about the match be private. I tell you, ma'am, that this suitor's such a sort as you've never seen; there's only one thing, ma'am: he's not of aristocratic origin.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. But is she an aristocrat? Pity if she is, my jewel! That's the way things go these days: every peasant girl is trying to worm her way into the nobility.—Now, although this here Olimpiáda Samsónovna—of course, God give her good health—gives presents like a princess, yet, believe me, her origin's no better than ours. Her father, Samsón Sílych, dealt in leather mittens on the Balchug; respectable people called him Sammy, and fed him with thumps behind the ears. And her mother, Agraféna Kondrátyevna, was little more than a peasant girl, and he got her from Preobrazhénskoye. They got together some capital, climbed into the merchant class—so the daughter has her eye peeled for the title of princess. And all that through money. How much worse am I than she? Yet I have to trot at her heels. God knows what kind of bringing-up she's had: she walks like an elephant crawls on his belly; whether French or piano, it's a bit here and a bit there, and there's nothing to it; and when she starts to dance—I have to stuff a handkerchief in my mouth.
PODKHALYÚZIN. But, look here—it'd be more proper for her to marry a merchant.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. But how'll I stand with the first suitor, my jewel? I've already assured him that Olimpiáda Samsónovna is such a beauty, that she's the real ticket for him; "and educated," I said, "in French, and is trained in all sorts of society ways." And now what am I going to say to him?
PODKHALYÚZIN. Why, just tell him also: "Now, she is a beauty, and cultivated in a good many ways; only they've lost all their money." And he'll break off himself!