LOMOV. Stepan Stepanovitch, I implore you to tell me just one thing: is your Squeezer
overshot or not? Yes or no?
CHUBUKOV. And suppose he is? What does it matter? He’s the best dog in the district for all
that, and so on.
LOMOV. But isn’t my Guess better? Really, now?
CHUBUKOV. Don’t excite yourself, my precious one. . . . Allow me. . . . Your Guess certainly
has his good points. . . . He’s purebred,
firm on his feet, has wellsprung
ribs, and all that. But,
my dear man, if you want to know the truth, that dog has two defects: he’s old and he’s short
in the muzzle.
LOMOV. Excuse me, my heart. . . . Let’s take the facts. . . . You will remember that on the
Marusinsky hunt my Guess ran neckandneck
with the Count’s dog, while your Squeezer was
left a whole verst behind.
CHUBUKOV. He got left behind because the Count’s whipperin
hit him with his whip.