care enough
about it to pine away because of another man's business, sir. But you see,
even if you drive me out now, even if you beat me, still I won't leave you;
because I cannot--I haven't that kind of a heart.

BOLSHOV. But how in the world could you think of leaving me? You see my
only hope now is you. I'm old, and my affairs have gotten into a tight fix.
Just wait! It may be we'll still swing some kind of a deal such as you're
not expecting.

PODKHALYUZIN. Oh, I can't do that, Samson Silych. Just understand this
much: I'm absolutely not that kind of a man! To anybody else, Samson
Silych, of course it's all the same; he doesn't care whether the grass
grows; but I can't do that way, sir. Kindly see yourself, sir, whether
I'm hustling or not. I'm simply wasting away now like some poor devil, on
account of your business, sir; because I'm not that kind of a man, sir. I'm
doing all this because I feel sorry for you, and not for you so much as
for your family. You ought to realize that Agrafena Kondratyevna is a very
tender lady, Olimpiada Samsonovna a young lady whose like can't be found on
earth, sir----

BOLSHOV. Not on earth? Look here, brother, aren't you hinting around a
little?

PODKHALYUZIN. Hinting, sir? No, I didn't mean, sir!----

BOLSHOV. Aha! Brother, you'd better speak more openly. Are you in love with
Olimpiada Samsonovna?

PODKHALYUZIN. Why, Samson Silych, must be you want to joke me.

BOLSHOV. Joke, fiddlesticks! I'm asking you seriously.

PODKHALYUZIN. Good heavens, Samson Silych, could I dare think of such a
thing, sir?

BOLSHOV. Why shouldn't you dare? Is she a princess or something like that?

PODKHALYUZIN. Maybe she's no princess; but as you've been my benefactor
and taken the place of my own father--But no, Samson Silych, how is it
possible, sir, how can I help feeling it!

BOLSHOV. Well, then, I suppose you don't love her?

PODKHALYUZIN. How can I help loving her, sir? Good gracious, it seems as if
I loved her more than anything on earth. But no, Samson Silych, how is it
possible, sir!

BOLSHOV. You ought to have said: "I love her, you see, more than anything
on earth."

PODKHALYUZIN. How can I help loving her, sir? Please consider yourself:
all day, I think, and all night, I think--Oh, dear me, of course Olimpiada
Samsonovna is a young lady whose like can't be found on earth--But no, that
cannot be, sir. What chance have I, sir?

BOLSHOV. What cannot be, you poor soft-head?

P