Akím. Nothing what d'ye call it, nothing has offended me, nothing at all! I mean only, I see, what d'you call it, I mean, I see my son, to ruin, I mean, to ruin, I mean my son's on the road to ruin, I mean.
Nikíta. What ruin? Just prove it!
Akím. Ruin, ruin; you're in the midst of it! What did I tell you that time?
Nikíta. You said all sorts of things! Akím. I told you, what d'ye call it, I told you about the orphan lass. That you had wronged an orphan—Marína, I mean, wronged her!
Nikíta. Eh! he's at it again. Let bygones be bygones.... All that's past!
Akím (excited). Past! No, lad, it's not past. Sin, I mean, fastens on to sin—drags sin after it, and you've stuck fast, Nikíta, fast in sin! Stuck fast in sin! I see you're fast in sin. Stuck fast, sunk in sin, I mean!
Nikíta. Sit down and drink your tea, and have done with it!
Akím. I can't, I mean can't what d'ye call it, can't drink tea. Because of your filth, I mean; I feel what d'ye call it, I feel sick, very sick! I can't what d'ye call it, I can't drink tea with you.
Nikíta. Eh! There he goes rambling! Come to the table.
Akím. You're in your riches same as in a net—you're in a net, I mean. Ah, Nikíta, it's the soul that God needs!