lunatic. You are a man like any other, and yet, from the way you talk one would imagine that you had the pip, or a cold in the head.
Shabelski. Would you have me go about kissing every rascal and scoundrel I meet?
Lebedieff. Where do you find all these rascals and scoundrels?
Shabelski. Of course I am not talking of any one here present, nevertheless———
Lebedieff. There you are again with your “nevertheless.” All this is simply a fancy of yours.
Shabelski. A fancy? It is lucky for you that you have no knowledge of the world!
Lebedieff. My knowledge of the world is this: I must sit here prepared at any moment to have death come knocking at the door. That is my knowledge of the world. At our age, brother, you and I can’t afford to worry about knowledge of the world. So then— [He calls] Oh, Gabriel!
Shabelski. You have had quite enough already. Look at your nose.
Lebedieff. No matter, old boy. I am not going to be married to-day.
Zinaida. Doctor Lvoff has not been here for a long time. He seems to have forgotten us.
Sasha. That man is one of my aversions. I can’t stand his icy sense of honour. He can’t ask for a glass of water or smoke a cigarette without making a display of his remarkable honesty. Walking and talking, it is written on his brow: “I am an honest man.” He is a great bore.
Shabelski. He is a narrow-minded, conceited medico. [Angrily] He shrieks like a parrot at every step: “Make way for honest endeavour!” and thinks himself another St. Francis. Everybody is a rascal who doesn’t make as much noise as he
