“So do I, so do I! This moment, if I could! I’d give every farthing I have to do it.”
“You drunken muzhik,” said Daria Alexeyevna, once more. “You ought to be kicked out of the place.”
The laughter became louder than ever.
“Do you hear, prince?” said Nastasia Philipovna. “Do you hear how this muzhik of a fellow goes on bargaining for your bride?”
“He is drunk,” said the prince, quietly, “and he loves you very much.”
“Won’t you be ashamed, afterwards, to reflect that your wife very nearly ran away with Rogojin?”
“Oh, you were raving, you were in a fever; you are still half delirious.”
“And won’t you be ashamed when they tell you, afterwards, that your wife lived at Totski’s expense so many years?”
“No; I shall not be ashamed of that. You did not so live by your own will.”
“And you’ll never reproach me with it?”
“Never.”
“Take care, don’t commit yourself for a whole lifetime.”
“Nastasia Philipovna,” said the prince, quietly, and with deep emotion, “I said before that I shall esteem your consent to be my wife as a great