MERIK. [In silence takes of his outer cloak and remains in a sleeveless jacket. He carries an axe in his belt] A vagrant may sweat where a bear will freeze. I am hot. [Puts his axe on the floor and takes off his jacket] You get rid of a pailful of sweat while you drag one leg out of the mud. And while you are dragging it out, the other one goes farther in. EFIMOVNA. Yes, that’s true... is the rain stopping, dear? MERIK. [Glancing at EFIMOVNA] I don’t talk to old women. [A pause.] BORTSOV. [To TIHON] I’ll take the sin on myself. Do you hear me or don’t you? TIHON. I don’t want to hear you, get away! MERIK. It’s as dark as if the sky was painted with pitch. You can’t see your own nose. And the rain beats into your face like a snowstorm! [Picks up his clothes and axe.] FEDYA. It’s a good thing for the likes of us thieves. When the cat’s away the mice will play. MERIK. Who says that? FEDYA. Look and see... before you forget. MERIN. We’ll make a note of it.... [Goes up to TIHON] How do you do, you with the large face! Don’t you remember me. TIHON. If I’m to remember every one of you drunkards that walks the high road, I reckon I’d need ten holes in my forehead. MERIK. Just look at me.... [A pause.] TIHON. Oh, yes; I remember. I knew you by your eyes! [Gives him his hand] Andrey Polikarpov? MERIK. I used to be Andrey Polikarpov, but now I am Egor Merik. TIHON. Why’s that? MERIK. I call myself after whatever passport God gives me. I’ve been Merik for two months. [Thunder] Rrrr.... Go on thundering, I’m not afraid! [Looks round] Any police here? TIHON. What are you talking about, making mountains out of mole-hills?... The people here are all right... The police are fast asleep in their feather beds now.... [Loudly] Orthodox brothers, mind your pockets and your clothes, or you’ll have to regret it. The man’s a rascal! He’ll rob you! MERIK. They can look out for their money, but as to their clothes--I shan’t touch them. I’ve nowhere to take them. TIHON. Where’s the devil taking you to? MERIK. To Kuban. TIHON. My word! FEDYA. To Kuban? Really? [Sitting up] It’s a fine place. You wouldn’t see such a country, brother, if you were to fall asleep and dream for three years. They say the birds there, and the beasts are--my God! The grass grows all the year round, the people are good, and they’ve so much land they don’t know what to do with it! The authorities, they say... a soldier was telling me the other day... give a hundred dessiatins ahead. There’s happiness, God strike me! MERIK. Happiness.... Happiness goes behind you.... You don’t see it. It’s as near as your elbow is, but you can’t bite it. It’s all silly.... [Looking round at the benches and the people] Like a lot of prisoners.... A poor lot. EFIMOVNA. [To MERIK] What great, angry, eyes! There’s an enemy in you, young man.... Don’t you look at us! MERIK. Yes, you’re a poor lot here.