ZIN. What are you going to tell, you devil's pepper-pot?

TISHKA. What'll I say? Why, that you scold!

PODKHALYUZIN. Great impression that'll make! You're quite a gentleman! Come
here, sir! Has Sysoy Psoich been here?

TISHKA. He sure has.

PODKHALYUZIN. Talk sense, you little devil! Was he going to come again?

TISHKA. He was that!

PODKHALYUZIN. Well, you can run along, now.

TISHKA. Do you want any vodka?

PODKHALYUZIN. Yes, I do. I'll have to treat Sysoy Psoich. [_He gives
money_] Buy a bottle, but you keep the change for gingerbread. But see that
you hurry, so they don't miss you here!

TISHKA. I'll be home before a short-haired girl can twist her braids. Off I
go, hippity-hop.

SCENE III

PODKHALYUZIN _alone_

PODKHALYUZIN. What a misfortune! Here's where a misfortune has come upon
us! What's to be done now? Well, it's a bad business. Now we can't avoid
declaring ourselves bankrupt. Well, suppose the boss should have something
left over; but where do I come in? What shall I do with myself? Sell junk
in the second-hand market! I've worked, I've worked about twenty years,
and then to be sent rambling! Now, how am I going to settle this matter?
Perhaps with merchandise? Here, he said to sell the notes. [_He draws them
out and reads them_] It must be that it's going to be possible to profit
by it. [_He walks about the room_] They say a fellow ought to know what
conscience is. Well, of course he ought to; but in what sense must he
understand that? Everybody has conscience where a good man is concerned;
but when the man himself is cheating others, then where does your
conscience come in? Samson Silych is a very rich merchant, and has hatched
up this whole business now just to kill time, so to speak. But I'm a poor
man! If I should make a little extra profit in this business--then there
can't be any sin in it; because he himself is acting dishonorably, and
going against the law. And why should I pity him? The course is clear;
well, don't slip up on it: he follows his politics, and you look out for
your interest. I'd have seen the thing through with him, but I don't feel
like it. Hm!--What day-dreams will come into a man's head! Of course,
Olimpiada Samsonovna is a cultivated young lady; and it must be said,
there're none on earth like her; but of course that suitor won't take her
now; he'll say, "Give me money!" But where are you going to get money? And
now she can't marry a nobleman because she hasn'