floor and the
forms, which stand against the wall, are closely occupied by pilgrims
and passers-by. Many of them, for lack of space, are sleeping as they
sit. It is late at night. As the curtain rises thunder is heard, and
lightning is seen through the door.]

[TIHON is behind the counter. FEDYA is half-lying in a heap on one
of the forms, and is quietly playing on a concertina. Next to him
is BORTSOV, wearing a shabby summer overcoat. SAVVA, NAZAROVNA, and
EFIMOVNA are stretched out on the floor by the benches.]

EFIMOVNA. [To NAZAROVNA] Give the old man a nudge dear! Can't get any
answer out of him.

NAZAROVNA. [Lifting the corner of a cloth covering of SAVVA'S face] Are
you alive or are you dead, you holy man?

SAVVA. Why should I be dead? I'm alive, mother! [Raises himself on his
elbow] Cover up my feet, there's a saint! That's it. A bit more on the
right one. That's it, mother. God be good to us.

NAZAROVNA. [Wrapping up SAVVA'S feet] Sleep, little father.

SAVVA. What sleep can I have? If only I had the patience to endure this
pain, mother; sleep's quite another matter. A sinner doesn't deserve to
be given rest. What's that noise, pilgrim-woman?

NAZAROVNA. God is sending a storm. The wind is wailing, and the rain is
pouring down, pouring down. All down the roof and into the windows like
dried peas. Do you hear? The windows of heaven are opened... [Thunder]
Holy, holy, holy...

FEDYA. And it roars and thunders, and rages, sad there's no end to
it! Hoooo... it's like the noise of a forest.... Hoooo.... The wind is
wailing like a dog.... [Shrinking back] It's cold! My clothes are wet,
it's all coming in through the open door... you might put me through a
wringer.... [Plays softly] My concertina's damp, and so there's no music
for you, my Orthodox brethren, or else I'd give you such a concert, my
word!--Something marvellous! You can have a quadrille, or a polka, if
you like, or some Russian dance for two.... I can do them all. In the
town, where I was an attendant at the Grand Hotel, I couldn't make any
money, but I did wonders on my concertina. And, I can play the guitar.

A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. A silly speech from a silly fool.

FEDYA. I can hear another of them. [Pause.]

NAZAROVNA. [To SAVVA] If you'd only lie where it was warm now, old man,
and warm your feet. [Pause.] Old man! Man of God! [Shakes SAVVA] Are you
going to die?

FEDYA. You ought to drink a little vodka, grandfather. Drink, and it