'Why struggle hand and foot?' said Tchitchikov, simpering, 'matrimony is not such a … er … if there were but a bride.'
'There shall be, there shall be! No fear about that. You shall have everything you want! …'
'Oh, well, if so. …'
'Bravo, he will stay,' they all cried: 'hurrah, hurrah, Pavel Ivanovitch! Hurrah!'
And they all pressed round him with their glasses in their hands to clink with his. Tchitchikov clinked glasses with every one. 'Again, again,' cried some of the more persistent and clinked glasses again, some pushed forward a third time and they clinked glasses once more. In a little while they were all extraordinarily lively. The president, who was a most charming person when he was a little elevated, embraced Tchitchikov several times, exclaiming in the fullness of his heart: 'My dear soul, my precious!' and even, snapping his fingers, fell to pirouetting round him, humming the well-known song, 'You are this and you are that, you Kamarinsky peasant!' After the champagne, they opened some bottles of Hungarian wine, which put still more spirit into the party and made them merrier than ever. The whist was completely forgotten. They disputed, shouted, talked about everything, about politics, even about military matters, giving expression to advanced ideas for which at any other time they would have thrashed their own children. They settled on the spot a number of the most difficult questions. Tchitchikov had
