Listen? Are you still angry? I was mad as the devil, but please understand me—how can I express myself?—The thing is like this—such things are—How is it my fault that you owe me money? The devil knows what breakable furniture you have! I like you! Do you understand?—I—I'm almost in love! Lord! What a woman! I never in my life met one like her. I'm lost, ruined! I've been caught like a mouse in a trap. Shoot! You have no idea what happiness it would be to die in sight of those beautiful eyes, to die from the revolver in this little velvet hand—I'm mad! Consider it and decide immediately for if I go now; we shall never see each other again. Decide—speak—I am a noble, a respectable man, have an income of ten thousand, can shoot a coin thrown into the air—I own some fine horses. Will you be my wife? My mind is not clear—I can't understand—servant—water! I have fallen in love like any young man. I love you! I love you as I have never loved before. Twelve women, I threw over, nine were untrue to me, but not one of them all have I loved as I love you. I am conquered, lost, I lie at your feet like a fool and beg for your hand. Shame and disgrace! For five years I haven't been in love, I thanked the Lord for it and now I am caught, like a carriage tongue in another carriage. I beg for your hand! Yes or no? Will you?—Good!

Smirnov Monologue from The Boor

Rehearse Smirnov's monologue