BOLSHÓV. Turned tail how? What gave you that notion?

PODKHALYÚZIN. It isn't a notion, Samsón Sílych. You ask Ustinya Naúmovna.
Must be some one who knows him heard something or other.

BOLSHÓV. What of it! As my affairs are going now there's no need of such a
person.

PODKHALYÚZIN. Samsón Sílych, just take into consideration! I'm a stranger,
and no relative of yours, but for the sake of your well-being I know
no rest by day or by night, my very heart is all withered. But they're
marrying to him the young lady who, it may be said, is an indescribable
beauty; and they're giving money, sir; but he swaggers and carries it high!
Well, is there any soul in him, after all that?

BOLSHÓV. Well, if he don't want her he needn't have her, and we won't cry
about it.

PODKHALYÚZIN. No, Samsón Sílych, you just consider about that: has the man
any soul? Here I am, a total stranger, yet I can't see all this without
tears. Just understand that, Samsón Sílych! Nobody else would 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.

BOLSHÓV. 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.