PODKHALYÚZIN. If you please, daddy, I feel all that very keenly, sir.
BOLSHÓV. Yes, you do! You ought to give everything away as I did, and leave yourself nothing but your shirt, just to rescue your benefactor. But I don't ask that, I don't need to; you simply pay out for me what's expected now.
PODKHALYÚZIN. And why shouldn't I pay, sir? Only they ask a price that's wholly unreasonable.
BOLSHÓV. But am I asking it? I begged out of every one of your kopeks I could; I begged, and bowed down to their feet; but what can I do, when they won't come down one little bit?
OLIMPIÁDA SAMSÓNOVNA. We have told you, daddy, that we can't pay more than ten kopeks—and there's no use saying any more about it.
BOLSHÓV. And so, daughter, you say: "Go along now, you old devil, you, into the pen! Yes, into the pen! Off to prison with him, the old blockhead! And it serves him right!"—Don't chase after great wealth, be contented with what you have. But if you do chase after wealth, they'll take away the last you have, and strip you clean. And it'll come about that you'll run out onto the Stone Bridge, and throw yourself into the river Moscow. And they'll haul you out by your tongue, and put you in prison. [All are silent; BOLSHÓV drinks] But you just think a bit: what kind of a walk am I going to have to the pen now? How am I going to shut my eyes? Now the Ilyínka will seem to me a hundred miles long. Just think, how it will seem to walk along the Ilyínka! It's just as if the devils were dragging my sinful soul through torment; Lord, forgive me for saying so! And then past the Iver Chapel[1]: how am I going to look upon her, the Holy Mother?—You know, Lázar; Judas, you see, sold even Christ for money, just as we sell our conscience for money. And what happened to him because of it?—And then there are the government offices, the criminal tribunal!—You see, I did it with set purpose, with malice aforethought.—You see, they'll exile me to Siberia. O Lord!—If you won't give me the money for any other reason, give it as charity, for Christ's sake. [He weeps.
[Footnote 1: In which there is a miracle-working image of the Virgin.]
PODKHALYÚZIN. What's the matter, what's the matter, daddy? There, there, now! God is merciful! What's the matter with you? We'll fix it up somehow. It's all in our hands.
BOLSHÓV. I need money, Lázar, money. There's nothing else to fix it with.
Either money or Siberia.
PODKHALYÚZIN. And I'll give you money, sir, if you'll only let up. As it is, I'll add five kopeks more.