“What? Surrender her to you ?” cried Daria Alexeyevna. “To a fellow who comes and bargains for a wife like a muzhik! The prince wishes to marry her, and you⁠—”

“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?”