t any money. Sooner or
later they'll have to marry her to a merchant. [_He walks on in silence_]
I'll raise the dough, and bow to Samson Silych. "Samson Silych," says I,
"I'm at an age when I must think about the continuance of posterity; and
I, now, Samson Silych, haven't grudged my sweat and blood for your
tranquillity. To be sure, now, Olimpiada Samsonovna is a cultivated young
lady; but I, Samson Silych, am no common trash; you can see for yourself,
if you please. I have capital, and I'm a good manager in that line." Why
shouldn't he give her to me? Ain't I a man? I haven't been detected in
any knavery; I'm respectful to my elders. But in addition to all that, as
Samson Silych has mortgaged his house and shops to me, I can frighten him
with the mortgage. Knowing as I do the disposition of Samson Silych to be
what it is, that may very easily happen. This is the way with his sort:
once they get an idea into their head, you simply can't drive it out. It's
just as when, three years ago, he wanted to shave his beard. No matter how
much Agrafena Kondratyevna begged and wept, "No," he said, "afterwards I'll
let it grow again; but for the time being I'll have my own way." And he
took and shaved it. It's the same way with this business; if I make a hit
with him, or the idea strikes him all right--then it's sweet wedding-bells
to-morrow, and that's all, and don't you dare argue! I could jump from the
tower of Ivan the Great for the joy of it.

_Enter_ TISHKA _with the bottle._

SCENE IV

PODKHALYUZIN _and_ TISHKA

TISHKA. [_Coming in with the bottle_] Here I am! I've come.

PODKHALYUZIN. Listen, Tishka, is Ustinya Naumovna here?

TISHKA. Up-stairs there. And the shyster's coming.

PODKHALYUZIN. Well, put the vodka on the table, and bring some relishes.

TISHKA _puts down the vodka and brings relishes; then goes out._

SCENE V

PODKHALYUZIN _and_ RISPOLOZHENSKY

PODKHALYUZIN. Ah, my respects to you, sir!

RISPOLOZHENSKY. Mine to you, my dear Lazar Elizarych, mine to you! Fine. I
think, now, perhaps there's something I can do. Is that vodka, near you?
I'll just take a thimbleful, Lazar Elizarych. My hands have begun to shake
mornings, especially the right one. When I go to write something, Lazar
Elizarych, I have to hold it with my left. I swear I do. But take a sip of
vodka, and it seems to do it good. [_Drinks._

PODKHALYUZIN. Why do your hands shake?

RISPOLOZHENSKY. [_Sits down by the table_] Fro