PODKHALYÚZIN. It's not a matter of conscience. But if I tell you, of course
you'll go and blab!

USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Curst if I do! You may chop off my hand!

PODKHALYÚZIN. That's it, ma'am; a promise is better than money.

USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Of course. Well, what do you know?

PODKHALYÚZIN. Here's what, Ustinya Naúmovna: isn't it possible to throw
over that suitor you've found, ma'am?

USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. What's the matter with you; are you gone daft?

PODKHALYÚZIN. Gone daft nothing, ma'am! But if you want to have a
heart-to-heart talk, honor bright, ma'am; then here's the sort of thing it
is, ma'am: at my house there's a certain Russian merchant I know, who is
very much in love with Olimpiáda Samsónovna, ma'am. "No matter what I have
to give," says he, "so long as I get married," says he; "I shan't grudge
any sum."

USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Why didn't you tell me about that before, my jewel?

PODKHALYÚZIN. There was nothing to tell for the good reason that I only
just now found out about it, ma'am.

USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. But it's late now, my jewel!

PODKHALYÚZIN. And what a suitor he is, Ustinya Naúmovna! He'll shower you
with gold from head to foot, ma'am; he'll have a cloak made for you out of