Beastly. I don’t mind, sister, giving you a lesson, only first marry me to Sophia.
Mrs. Uncouth. Have you really taken a liking to the girl?
Beastly. No, it is not the girl I like.
Uncouth. Then it is her adjoining villages?
Beastly. Not even her villages; but that which is to be found in her villages, and for which I have a great passion.
Mrs. Uncouth. What is it, brother?
Beastly. I like the pigs, sister. Down our way there are some very big pigs: why, there is not one among them that if it stood up on its hind legs would not be a head taller than any of us.
Uncouth. Now, brother, this is a wonderful family resemblance. Our dear Mitrofán is just like his uncle: he has had the same passion for pigs ever since babyhood. He was only three years old when he would tremble with joy every time he saw a pig.
Beastly. Truly wonderful! All right: Mitrofán loves pigs because he is my nephew. There is some resemblance there. But why have I such a passion for pigs?
Uncouth. There must be some resemblance there too, that’s what I think.