BORTSOV. It may be mean and wicked on my part, but what am I to do? I’m doing this wicked thing, not reckoning on what’s to come.... If I was tried for it, they’d let me off. Take it, only on condition that you return it later, when I come back from town. I give it to you in front of these witnesses. You will be my witnesses! [Takes a gold medallion out from the breast of his coat] Here it is.... I ought to take the portrait out, but I’ve nowhere to put it; I’m wet all over.... Well, take the portrait, too! Only mind this... don’t let your fingers touch that face.... Please... I was rude to you, my dear fellow, I was a fool, but forgive me and... don’t touch it with your fingers.... Don’t look at that face with your eyes. [Gives TIHON the medallion.] TIHON. [Examining it] Stolen property.... All right, then, drink.... [Pours out vodka] Confound you. BORTSOV. Only don’t you touch it... with your fingers. [Drinks slowly, with feverish pauses.] TIHON. [Opens the medallion] Hm... a lady!... Where did you get hold of this? MERIK. Let’s have a look. [Goes to the bar] Let’s see. TIHON. [Pushes his hand away] Where are you going to? You look somewhere else! FEDYA. [Gets up and comes to TIHON] I want to look too! [Several of the tramps, etc., approach the bar and form a group. MERIK grips TIHON’s hand firmly with both his, looks at the portrait, in the medallion in silence. A pause.] MERIK. A pretty she-devil. A real lady.... FEDYA. A real lady.... Look at her cheeks, her eyes.... Open your hand, I can’t see. Hair coming down to her waist.... It is lifelike! She might be going to say something.... [Pause.] MERIK. It’s destruction for a weak man. A woman like that gets a hold on one and... [Waves his hand] you’re done for! [KUSMA’S voice is heard. “Trrr.... Stop, you brutes!” Enter KUSMA.] KUSMA. There stands an inn upon my way. Shall I drive or walk past it, say? You can pass your own father and not notice him, but you can see an inn in the dark a hundred versts away. Make way, if you believe in God! Hullo, there! [Planks a five-copeck piece down on the counter] A glass of real Madeira! Quick! FEDYA. Oh, you devil! TIHON. Don’t wave your arms about, or you’ll hit somebody. KUSMA. God gave us arms to wave about. Poor sugary things, you’re half-melted. You’re frightened of the rain, poor delicate things. [Drinks.] EFIMOVNA. You may well get frightened, good man, if you’re caught on your way in a night like this. Now, thank God, it’s all right, there are many villages and houses where you can shelter from the weather, but before that there weren’t any. Oh, Lord, it was bad! You walk a hundred versts, and not only isn’t there a village; or a house, but you don’t even see a dry stick. So you sleep on the ground.... KUSMA. Have you been long on this earth, old woman? EFIMOVNA. Over seventy years, little father.