Zhev. Oh! it’s more than any one can stand!
Anoùch. Yes, indeed, one may say——
Koch. Oh yes, it’s altogether unbearable—life’s not worth having. Heaven defend anybody from such a position!
Yaìch. Now supposing, madam, that you were asked to choose who should be the object of your affections. Allow me to ask, what would be your taste? You will excuse my directness. What ... occupation ... do you consider ... most ... worthy of respect in a husband?
Zhev. Would you choose, madam, a husband acquainted with the storms of the ocean?
Koch. No! no! In my opinion the best sort of husband is a man who has almost the whole management of a Department in his hands.
Anoùch. Why anticipate? Why treat with contumely a man capable of appreciating the social intercourse of high-class society?
Yaìch. Madam, it is for you to decide! (Silence.)
Fèkla. Speak up, little mother! Tell them something.
Yaìch. What have you to say?