OLIMPIÁDA SAMSÓNOVNA. Curse away if you want to!
AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. Yes, that's it! You'll die, and not rot! Yes!
OLIMPIÁDA SAMSÓNOVNA. Much I shall!
BOLSHÓV. [Rising] Well, good-by, children!
PODKHALYÚZIN. Why, daddy, sit still! We've got to settle this business somehow or other.
BOLSHÓV. Settle what? I see plainly enough that the jig is up. You'll make a mistake if you don't do me up brown! Don't you pay anything for me; let 'em do what they please. Good-by, it's time I was going.
PODKHALYÚZIN. Good-by, daddy! God is merciful—-you'll get out of this somehow.
BOLSHÓV. Good-by, wife.
AGRAFÉNA KONDRÁTYEVNA. Good-by, Samsón Sílych, dear! When'll they let us come to see you in jail?
BOLSHÓV. Don't know.