FOMINISHNA. No, dear! I gave the order to the cook myself!

BOLSHOV. Get out! [_He sits down_.

FOMINISHNA _goes to the door_; PODKHALYUZIN _and_ TISHKA _come in_.

FOMINISHNA. [_Returning_] Ah, I'm a fool, a fool! Don't punish me for my
bad memory. The cold roast sucking pig had entirely jumped out of my mind.

SCENE X

PODKHALYUZIN, BOLSHOV, _and_ TISHKA

BOLSHOV. Go to the pigs yourself! [FOMINISHNA _goes out. To_ TISHKA] What
are you gaping at? Haven't you anything to do?

PODKHALYUZIN. [_To_ TISHKA] You've been spoken to, haven't you?

TISHKA _goes out_.

BOLSHOV. Has the shyster been here?

PODKHALYUZIN. He has, sir.

BOLSHOV. Did you talk with him?

PODKHALYUZIN. Why, Samson Silych? Does he have any feeling? Isn't his soul
naturally nothing but ink, sir? He just thrums on one string--to declare
yourself bankrupt.

BOLSHOV. If I must declare myself bankrupt, I'll do it, and there's an end
to it.

PODKHALYUZIN. Ah, Samson Silych, what's that you're saying!

BOLSHOV. What! pay out money? Where did you get that notion? I will rather
burn everything in the fire, before I'll give them a kopek. Transfer the
merchandise, sell the notes, let 'em pilfer, let anybody steal who wants
to; but I'm not going to pay a kopek.

PODKHALYUZIN. Pardon me, Samson Silych, we had the business all going fine;
and now everything has to be thrown into confusion.

BOLSHOV. What affair was it of yours? It ain't yours. You just work
hard--I'll not forget you.

PODKHALYUZIN. I'm not in need of anything after the kindness you have shown
me, and you're quite wrong in having any such idea about me. I'm ready to
give away my whole soul for you, and by no means to do anything tricky.
You're getting on in years; Agrafena Kondratyevna is a very gentle lady;
Olimpiada Samsonovna is an accomplished young lady, and of suitable
years; and you've got to spend some thought on her. But now such are the
circumstances; there's no knowing what may come of all this.

BOLSHOV. Well, what could come of it? I'm the only one responsible.

PODKHALYUZIN. Why talk about you! You, Samson Silych, have already had a
long life; thank God, you're in a ripe old age; but Olimpiada Samsonovna,
of course, is a young lady whose like can't be found on earth. I'm speaking
to you conscientiously, Samson Silych; that is, absolutely according to my
feelings. If I'm exerting myself on your behalf now, and am putting in my
whole strength, too, it may be s