"'The cockroach does not complain.' As for Nikifor he typifies nature," he added, speaking rapidly and walking complacently about the room.
Varvara Petrovna was terribly angry.
"And allow me to ask you about that money said to have been received from Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, and not to have been given to you, about which you dared to accuse a person belonging to my household." "It's a slander!" roared Lebyadkin, flinging up his right hand tragically.
"No, it's not a slander." "Madam, there are circumstances that force one to endure family disgrace rather than proclaim the truth aloud.

Lebyadkin will not blab, madam!" He seemed dazed; he was carried away; he felt his importance; he certainly had some fancy in his mind.

By now he wanted to insult some one, to do something nasty to show his power.
"Ring, please, Stepan Trofimovitch," Varvara Petrovna asked him.
"Lebyadkin's cunning, madam." he said, winking with his evil smile; "he's cunning, but he too has a weak spot, he too at times is in the portals of passions, and these portals are the old military hussars' bottle, celebrated by Denis Davydov.

So when he is in those portals, madam, he may happen to send a letter in verse, a most magnificent letter--but which afterwards he would have wished to take back, with the tears of all his life; for the feeling of the beautiful is destroyed.
But the bird has flown, you won't catch it by the tail.

In those portals now, madam, Lebyadkin may have spoken about an honourable young lady, in the honourable indignation of a soul revolted by wrongs, and his slanderers have taken advantage of it.