PODKHALYUZIN.  If you please, sir.  Now, suppose all this ends well.  Very good, sir.  You’ll have something left with which to establish Olimpiada Samsonovna.—­Well, of that there’s nothing to say; let there be money, and suitors’ll be found, sir.  Well, but what a sin, Lord save us! if they object, and begin to hound you through the courts; and such a stigma falls upon the family, and if, furthermore, they should take away the property.  Sir, the ladies’d be obliged to endure hunger and cold, and without any care, like shelterless birdies.  But Lord save them from that!  What would happen then? [He weeps.

BOLSHOV.  What are you crying about?

PODKHALYUZIN.  Of course, Samson Silych, I merely say that just for instance—­talk at the right time, keep still at the wrong time; words don’t hurt.  But you see, the Old Nick is powerful—­he shakes the hills.

BOLSHOV.  What’s to be done, my boy?  Evidently such is the will of God, and you can’t oppose it.

PODKHALYUZIN.  That’s just it, Samson Silych!  But all the same, according to my foolish way of reasoning, you should settle Olimpiada Samsonovna in good time upon a good man; and then she will be, at any rate, as if behind a stone wall, sir.  But the chief thing is that the man should have a soul, so that he’ll feel.  As for that noble’s courting Olimpiada Samsonovna—­why he’s turned tail already.

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

PODKHALYUZIN.  It isn’t a notion, Samson Silych.  You ask Ustinya Naumovna. 
Must be some one who knows him heard something or other.

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

PODKHALYUZIN.  Samson Silych, 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?

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

PODKHALYUZIN.  No, Samson Silych, 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, Samson Silych!  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.

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.