PODKHALYÚZIN. Ah, Samsón Sílych, what's that you're saying!
BOLSHÓV. What! pay out money? Where did you get that notion? I will rather burn everything in the fire, before I'll give them a kopek. Transfer the merchandise, sell the notes, let 'em pilfer, let anybody steal who wants to; but I'm not going to pay a kopek.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Pardon me, Samsón Sílych, we had the business all going fine; and now everything has to be thrown into confusion.
BOLSHÓV. What affair was it of yours? It ain't yours. You just work hard—I'll not forget you.
PODKHALYÚZIN. I'm not in need of anything after the kindness you have shown me, and you're quite wrong in having any such idea about me. I'm ready to give away my whole soul for you, and by no means to do anything tricky. You're getting on in years; Agraféna Kondrátyevna is a very gentle lady; Olimpiáda Samsónovna is an accomplished young lady, and of suitable years; and you've got to spend some thought on her. But now such are the circumstances; there's no knowing what may come of all this.
BOLSHÓV. Well, what could come of it? I'm the only one responsible.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Why talk about you! You, Samsón Sílych, have already had a long life; thank God, you're in a ripe old age; but Olimpiáda Samsónovna, of course, is a young lady whose like can't be found on earth. I'm speaking to you conscientiously, Samsón Sílych; that is, absolutely according to my feelings. If I'm exerting myself on your behalf now, and am putting in my whole strength, too, it may be said, grudging neither sweat nor blood—then it's mostly because I'm sorry for your family.
BOLSHÓV. Come, really now?
PODKHALYÚZIN. If you please, sir. Now, suppose all this ends well. Very good, sir. You'll have something left with which to establish Olimpiáda Samsónovna.—Well, of that there's nothing to say; let there be money, and suitors'll be found, sir. Well, but what a sin, Lord save us! if they object, and begin to hound you through the courts; and such a stigma falls upon the family, and if, furthermore, they should take away the property. Sir, the ladies'd be obliged to endure hunger and cold, and without any care, like shelterless birdies. But Lord save them from that! What would happen then? [He weeps.
BOLSHÓV. What are you crying about?