BORIS. No. My senses seem to be becoming more alert. Your voice sounds very sharp and clear.
BORIS. It seems very heavy. Are you afraid of Death, excellency?
ALEXIS. [_Eyeing him sharply._] No, I am not afraid of Death, brother, not in the least.
BORIS. I don’t seem to be able to. That’s strange. I can’t feel anything.
ALEXIS. Nor I! Can you get out of your chair?
BORIS. [_Slowly._] I--I can hardly move my hand. I might move by a supreme effort but I haven’t the will. I--I feel no pain, only a ringing in my head.
ALEXIS. So? Well, well! Can you still hear perfectly?
BORIS. Tell me, on your hope of redemption, was what you said to me just now the truth?
BORIS. If it was, I ask you to forgive me.
ALEXIS. On my hope of redemption, Boris Shamrayeff, everything I told you was lies! Lies! Lies!
[_BORIS struggles painfully to his feet and lurches toward the table, where he has laid the pistol. ALEXIS springs to the table, seizes the pistol and tosses it out of the window. BORIS supports himself against the edge of table, half sitting, half leaning against it, his mouth open, his eyes staring. He sways dizzily. ALEXIS stands before him._]
ALEXIS. Well, you can still speak, can’t you?
BORIS. You fiend! You dog! You liar! Ha, ha, ha! At least you can’t escape! No need for me to strike you!
BORIS. Well! Sneer at me if you like. You are feeling the agony too, Alexis Alexandrovitch. You can’t deny it.
ALEXIS. I am not dying, Boris Shamrayeff.
BORIS. But, I know! I saw! I saw you drink! You’re dying, excellency!
ALEXIS. Yes, we drank together, didn’t we? Well, well! And your eye wasn’t off me an instant, was it? And you didn’t lift your cup till I’d drained the last drop of mine, did you? Well, well, well!
ALEXIS. Yes, I did drink it, Boris Ivanovitch, didn’t I? But what is sending you down to fry in Hell with the stupid ghosts of your bestial ancestors is only embarrassing me with the slightest of headaches. [_He chuckles._]
ALEXIS. Eh? An oriental trick. A man in constant fear of poison may accustom himself, little by little, to a dose that would blast the life of an ordinary man. A fantastic precaution these days, only interesting to an antiquarian like myself. Well, well, you can hear me, can’t you? I tell you I could have taken the entire mess; half of it seems to have been enough for you.