PODKHALYÚZIN. And don't I love you, Samsón Sílych, more than my own father?
Damn it all!—what a brute I am.
BOLSHÓV. Well, but you love my daughter?
PODKHALYÚZIN. I've wasted away entirely, sir. My whole soul has turned over long since, sir!
BOLSHÓV. Well, if your soul has turned over, we'll set you up again.
Johnny's the boy for our Jenny!
PODKHALYÚZIN. Daddy, why do you favor me? I'm not worth it. I'm not worth it! My poor face would positively crack a mirror.
BOLSHÓV. What of your face! Here, I transfer all the property to you; so that afterwards the creditors will be sorry that they didn't take twenty-five kopeks on the ruble.
PODKHALYÚZIN. You can bet they'll be sorry, sir!
BOLSHÓV. Well, you get off to town now, and after a while come back to the girl; we'll play a little joke on 'em.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Very good, daddy, sir! [They go out.