"
Yakov Tarasovich burst into bitter laughter.
"What then, did you think to lick away a mountain with your
tongue? You armed yourself with malice enough to fight a bedbug,
and you started out after a bear, is that it? Madman! If your
father were to see you now. Eh!"
"And yet," said Foma, suddenly, loudly, with assurance, and his
eyes again flared up, "and yet it is all your fault! You have
spoiled life! You have made everything narrow. We are suffocating
because of you! And though my truth against you is weak, it is
truth, nevertheless! You are godless wretches! May you all be
cursed!"
He moved about in his chair, attempting to free his hands, and
cried out, flashing his eyes with fury:
"Unbind my hands!"
They came closer to him; the faces of the merchants became more
severe, and Reznikov said to him impressively:
"Don't make a noise, don't be bothersome! We'll soon be in town.
Don't disgrace yourself, and don't disgrace us either. We are not
going to take you direct from the wharf to the insane asylum."
"So!" exclaimed Foma.
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