What a queer habit you have here of plying a person with questions all the time. Where, who, why, what for?
TONY _(enters, speaking slowly and with difficulty)_
I am expecting Kondraty here--you know Kondraty, don't you? Send him in when he comes.
And send in two bottles of whiskey too, do you hear?
Maybe I do and maybe I don't. Maybe I'll send the whiskey and maybe I won't.
What a sceptic. You've grown silly, Tony.
Leave him alone, Savva. He has got that from the seminary student, from Speransky. Anyhow, he is full of--
I didn't get it from anybody. I can understand everything myself. The blood has congealed in my heart.
The blood has congealed in my heart. You think I don't know what's what. A while ago you weren't here with us, and all of a sudden you came. Yes, I understand everything. I have visions.
And no devil either. There's nothing, no people, no animals, nothing.
There are only faces, a whole lot of faces. It's faces, faces, faces. They are very funny, and I keep laughing all the time. I just sit still, and the faces come jumping and gliding past me, jumping and gliding. You've got a very funny face too, Savva. _(Sadly)_ It's enough to make one die of laughter.
That's the kind of face you have. _(Pointing his finger at him)_ She also has a face, and she. And father too. And then there are other faces. There are a lot of faces. I sit in the tavern and see everything. Nothing escapes me. You can't fool me. Some faces are small and some are large, and all of them glide and glide--Some are far away, and some are as close to me as if they wanted to kiss me or bite my nose. They have teeth.
All right, Tony, now you can go. We'll talk about the faces later. Your own face is funny enough.
All right, all right. Go now. Don't forget to send in the whiskey.
As in the daytime so at night. A lot of faces. _(From the door)_ And in regards to whiskey, maybe I'll send it and maybe I won't. I can't tell yet.
I don't know. I think so. He drinks an awful lot.
No wonder. You're enough to drive a man to drink. Cranks. _(Exit)_
My, how stifling! I don't know what to do with myself. Say, Savva, why aren't you nicer to Polya? She is such a wretched creature.
Oh, Savva, if you only knew the terrible life people lead here. The men drink, and beat their wives, and the women--