“I don't drink, sir,” he said.
“Nonsense, you drink more than we do.”
“I used to drink, but now I don't,” the bailiff said, smiling. “Now, I mustn't drink.… There's no cause. Thank God, everything is settled, satisfactorily everything is arranged, all exactly as my heart had desired, even better than I could have expected.”
“Well, then, to your happiness you can drink this,” I said, pouring him out a glass of sherry.
“This—why not? I really did drink hard. Now I can confess it to his Excellency. Sometimes from morning to night. When I rose in the morning I remembered it … well, naturally, I went to the cupboard at once. Now, thank God, I have nothing to drown in vodka.”
Urbenin drank the glass of sherry. I poured out a second. He drank this one too, and imperceptibly got drunk.…
“I can scarcely believe it,” he said, laughing a happy childish laugh. “I look at this ring and remember her words when she gave her consent—I can still scarcely believe it.… It seems laughable.… How could I, at my age, with my appearance, hope that this deserving girl would not disdain to become mine … the mother of my orphan children? Why, she's a beauty, as you have been pleased to notice; an angel incorporate! Wonders without end! You have filled my glass again? Why not, for the last time.… I drank to drown care, I will now drink to happiness. How I suffered, gentlemen! What grief I endured! I saw her first a year ago, and would you believe it—from that time I have not slept quietly a single night; there was not a single day on which I did not drown this—silly weakness with vodka … and scolded myself for this folly.… I sometimes looked at her through the window and admired her and … tore out the hair of my head.… At times I could have hanged myself … But, thank God, I ventured and proposed, and, do you know, it took me quite by surprise. Ha, ha! I heard, but I could not believe mine own ears. She said: ‘I agree,’ and it appeared to me like: ‘Go to the devil, you old dotard!’ … Afterward, when she kissed me, I was convinced.…”
At the recollection of that first kiss received from poetical Olenka, Urbenin closed his eyes and, despite his fifty years, he blushed like a boy.… this appeared disgusting to me.
“Gentlemen,” he said, looking at us with happy, kind eyes, “why don't you get married? Why are you wasting your lives, throwing them out of the window? Why do you shun that which is the greatest blessing of all who live upon the earth? The delight that debauchery gives is not a hundredth part of what a quiet family life would give you! Young men, your Excellency and you, Sergei Petrovich … I am happy now, and … God knows how I love you both! Forgive me for giving stupid advice, but … I want you both to be happy! Why don't you get married? Family life is a blessing.… It's every man's duty!…”
The happy and fond look on the face of the old man, who was about to marry a young girl and was advising us to alter our dissolute existence for a quiet family life, became unbearable to me.