RISPOLÓZHENSKY. It turns my stomach, Samsón Sílych! By heaven, it does!
I'll just take a thimbleful of vodka. But my nature won't stand the other.
I have such a weak constitution.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Bah! you long-necked goose! Nonsense—much your nature won't stand it! Give it here. I'll pour it down his collar if he won't drink it!
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. No fair, Ustinya Naúmovna! That ain't nice for a lady to do. Samsón Sílych, I can't, sir! Would I have refused it? He! he! he! What kind of a blockhead am I, that I should do anything so rude? I've seen high society, I know how to live. Now, I never refuse vodka; if you don't mind, I'll just take a thimbleful! But this I simply can't drink—it turns my stomach. Samsón Sílych, don't you allow all this disorderly conduct; it's easy to insult a man, but it ain't nice.
BOLSHÓV. Give it to him hot and heavy, Ustinya Naúmovna, hot and heavy!
RISPOLÓZHENSKY runs away from her.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. [Placing the wine on the table] You shan't get away from me, you old son of a sea-cook! [She pushes him into a corner and seizes him by the collar.
RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Police!
All burst out laughing.
ACT IV
A richly furnished chamber in the house of PODKHALYÚZIN