Koch. (aloud). Oh! how stupid! Oh! how stupid! This is what it’s about, madam: he asks your hand, and wants to tell you that he can’t live, can’t exist without you; he wants to know—do you consent to make him happy?
Pod. (half frightened, excitedly nudging him). I say! don’t!
Koch. Can you decide, madam, to render this mortal happy?
Agàfia. I do not presume to think that I can give happiness——However, I consent.
Koch. Of course, of course; ought to have been settled long ago! Give me your hands!
Pod. In a minute. (Tries to whisper in his ear. Kochkaryòv shakes his fist and frowns at him. Podkolyòssin gives his hand.)
Koch. (joining their hands). Well, may God bless you! I consent, and I approve your union. Marriage is a kind of thing——It’s not like just taking a sledge and going for a drive; it’s of quite a different character; it’s an obligation——I haven’t time now, but I’ll tell you afterwards what sort of obligation it is. Well, Ivàn Kouzmìch, kiss your bride; it is your right to do that now; it is your duty to do it. (Agàfia drops her eyes.) Never mind, madam, it is quite right and proper; let him kiss you!
Pod. No, madam, you must permit me now. (Kisses her, and takes her hand.) What a lovely little hand! Why have you such a lovely little hand? Allow me, madam. I wish that the wedding should be at once—at once, without any delay.
Agàfia. At once? Perhaps that will be too soon.
Pod. I won’t hear of anything! I should like to have it this very minute.