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His head was aching from the wine he had drunk, there were ringing noises in his ears, and stars jumping about in front of his eyes, even though he shut them. Golushkin, Vasia the clerk, Fomishka and Fimishka, were dancing about before him, with Mariana's form in the distance, as if distrustful and afraid to come near.
Fomisha sang out alone. "Bravo!" Paklin exclaimed. "We have had the first verse, now please sing us the second." "With the greatest of pleasure," Fomishka said, "but what about the trill, Snandulia Samsonovna? After my verse there must be a trill." "Very well, I will play your trill," Snandulia replied. Fomishka began again "Has ever lover loved true And kept his heart from grief and rue?
She did not understand a word of what Markelov had said, but she felt that the "black one" was scolding, and how dared he! Vassilievna also muttered something, while Fomishka folded his hands across his breast and turned to his wife. "Fimishka, my darling," he began, almost in tears; "do you hear what the gentleman is saying?
Then Fomishka suddenly drawled out: "Many, many, many years of life. Many " "Many, many," Kalliopitch chimed in quite unexpectedly, when opening the door for the young men to pass out. The whole four suddenly found themselves in the street before the squat little house, while Pufka's voice was heard from within: "You fools!" she cried. "You fools!" Paklin laughed aloud, but no one responded.
"They are scarce, but there are," Paklin replied. FOMISHKA and Fimishka, otherwise Foma Lavrentievitch and Efimia Pavlovna Subotchev, belonged to one of the oldest and purest branches of the Russian nobility, and were considered to be the oldest inhabitants in the town of S. They married when very young and settled, a long time ago, in the little wooden ancestral house at the very end of the town.
No one knew what kurpey meant; at least, Markelov knew that the tassel on a Cossack or Circassian cap was called a kurpey, but then how could Fomishka have injured that? But no one dared to question him further. "Well, now that you have shown off," Fimishka remarked suddenly, "I will show off too."
Here he remembered Paklin's sister and could have bitten his tongue off. Fomishka went red in the face and muttered: "You see it is not my fault... she herself " Pufka simply flew at Markelov. "How dare you insult our masters?" she screamed out in her lisping voice. "What is it to you that they took me in, brought me up, and gave me meat and drink? Can't you bear to see another's good fortune, eh?
There was a brief silence they all looked at one another, but did not utter a word. "Well, goodbye, dear friends," Paklin exclaimed. "We must have bored you to death with our long visit. It is time for these gentlemen to be going, and I am going with them. Goodbye, thanks for your kindness." "Goodbye, goodbye, come again. Don't be on ceremony," Fomishka and Fimishka exclaimed together.
He loveth but to weep anew" and then Fimishka "Yea hearts that love at last are riven As ships that hopelessly have striven For life. To what end were they given?" "To what end were they given?" Fomishka warbled out and waited for Snandulia to play the trill. "To what end were they given?" he repeated, and then they struck up together
"Look," Fomishka observed, pointing with the same fat little finger to four semi-circular spots on the white ground, close to the horse's legs, "he has even put the snow prints in!" Why there were only four of these prints and not any to be seen further back, on this point Fomishka was silent. "This was I!" he added after a pause, with a modest smile. "Really!"
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