you barbarian! Robber that you are! You
shan't have my blessing! You'll dry up, money and all; you'll dry up, dying
before your time! You robber! Robber that you are!

PODKHALYUZIN. That'll do, mamma; you're angering God. Why are you cursing
me when you haven't looked into the business? You can see that daddy has
got a bit tipsy, and you start to make a row.

OLIMPIADA SAMSONOVNA. It would be better for you, ma, to keep still! You
seem to enjoy sending people to the third hell. I know: you'll catch it for
this. It must be for that reason God didn't give you any more children.

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. Keep still yourself, shameless creature! You were
enough of a punishment for God to send me!

OLIMPIADA SAMSONOVNA. You think everybody's shameless and that you're the
only good person. But you ought to take a good look at yourself: all you
can do is fast one day extra every week, and not a day goes by that you
don't bark at somebody.

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. Shame on you! Shame on you! Oh! Oh! Oh!--I'll curse
you in all the churches!

OLIMPIADA SAMSONOVNA. Curse away if you want to!

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. Yes, that's it! You'll die, and not rot! Yes!

OLIMPIADA SAMSONOVNA. Much I shall!

BOLSHOV. [_Rising_] Well, good-by, children!

PODKHALYUZIN. Why, daddy, sit still! We've got to settle this business
somehow or other.

BOLSHOV. Settle what? I see plainly enough that the jig is up. You'll make
a mistake if you don't do me up brown! Don't you pay anything for me; let
'em do what they please. Good-by, it's time I was going.

PODKHALYUZIN. Good-by, daddy! God is merciful---you'll get out of this
somehow.

BOLSHOV. Good-by, wife.

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. Good-by, Samson Silych, dear! When'll they let us
come to see you in jail?

BOLSHOV. Don't know.

AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. Then I'll inquire, otherwise you'll die there
without our seeing you.

BOLSHOV. Good-by, daughter! Good-by, Olimpiada Samsonovna! Well, now you're
going to be rich, and live like a princess. That means assemblies and
balls--devil's own amusements! But don't you forget, Olimpiada Samsonovna,
that there are cells with iron bars, and poor prisoners are sitting in
them. Don't forget us poor prisoners.

[_He goes out with_ AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA.

PODKHALYUZIN. Ah! Olimpiada Samsonovna, ma'am! How awkward, ma'am! I pity
your father, by heaven I pity him, ma'am! Hadn't I better go myself and
compound with his credito