Shiryàlov. What did you say? Eh-h-h!
Antìp. Didn’t that occur to you? Well, you are a simple minded fellow!
Shiryàlov. My dear lad, of course I thought of it. (Lowers his eyes.) But I doubt she wouldn’t care to have me.
Antìp. What next. Why shouldn’t she? Never fear, she’ll have you.
Shiryàlov (drops his eyes lower). She’ll say: “He’s old.”
Antìp. Old? What does that matter? There’s no harm in that. Never fear, she’ll have you. And then, my mother’s fond of you. Why, what more can the girl want? A good respectable man: why shouldn’t she have you?—quiet and peaceable in his cups.... By the bye, you are quiet in drink, aren’t you? You don’t get fighting?
Shiryàlov. As quiet as any innocent babe, Antìp Antìpych. Whenever I get a drop too much, it just sends me off to sleep; I never get rowdy and wild.
Antìp. You didn’t used to come to blows with your first wife, did you?
Shiryàlov. Never, so help me, God!
Antìp. Very well then, why should she object to a decent fellow? Never fear, she’ll have you. You can send the matchmaker. There now, let’s drink health and happiness to you. (They drink.)