NICHOLAS IVÁNOVICH. You won't believe me and will laugh, but still I must tell you that formerly I was not ashamed to live in this way, but now that I believe in Christ's law, which tells us we are all brothers--I am ashamed to live so. CARPENTER. If you are ashamed of it, give away your property. NICHOLAS IVÁNOVICH. I wanted to, but failed, and gave it to my wife. CARPENTER. But after all it would not be possible for you to do it--you are too used to comforts. [Voice outside the door] Papa, may I come in? NICHOLAS IVÁNOVICH. You may, you always may. Enter Lyúba. LYÚBA. Good-day, Jacob! CARPENTER. Good-day, Miss! LYÚBA. Borís has gone to his regiment. I am afraid of what he may do or say there. What do you think? NICHOLAS IVÁNOVICH. What can I think? He will do what is natural to him. LYÚBA. It is awful. He has such a short time to serve[33] and may go and ruin his whole life. [33] The period of compulsory service for a University graduate would be short in any case. NICHOLAS IVÁNOVICH. He did well not to come to see me. He understands that I can't say anything to him but what he knows himself. He told me that he handed in his resignation because he sees that not only is there no more immoral, lawless, cruel and brutal occupation than this one, the object of which is to kill, but also that there is nothing more degrading and mean than to have to submit implicitly to any man of higher rank who happens to come along. He knows all that. LYÚBA. That's just why I am afraid. He knows that, and may want to take some action. NICHOLAS IVÁNOVICH. His conscience--the God that dwells within him--will decide that. Had he come to me I should have given him only one piece of advice: not to do anything in which he is guided by his reason alone--nothing is worse than that--but only to act when his whole being demands it. Now I, for instance, wished to act according to Christ's injunction: to leave father, wife and children and to follow Him, and I left home, but how did it end? It ended by my coming back and living with you in luxury in town. Because I was trying to do more than I had strength for, I have landed myself in this degrading and senseless position: I wish to live simply and to work with my hands, but in these surroundings, with lackeys and porters, it seems a kind of affectation. I see that, even now, Jacob Nikonórych is laughing at me. CARPENTER. Why should I laugh? You pay me, and give me my tea. I am grateful to you. LYÚBA. I wonder if I had not better go to him.