A peasant. The lash of the Czar goes deeper than the words of the preacher.
Another. We have obeyed you until now, shepherd of Lonz.
Adr. [Gently] And you will obey me again.
Manl. You will obey the voice of your own manhood!
Adr. You will remember that you bear the leaven of the race, that you carry in your blood the universal peace.
Manl. Every beat of your hearts is telling you now to be men!
Adr. Submission is the only death-answer to violence. The world for very shame must cease to crucify Christ!
Gregorief. [Leaping up] Move your Sunday-school to the dungeons of Schlusselburg! Yes, I have been there. I was twenty years under the storm-waves of Lake Ladoga, and if your words could have reached me through the damp walls they would have received their true answer—a madman's answer. For torture does not give men the serenity of gods or preachers, Lavrov. Twenty years of the silence that welcomes the silence of death—twenty years of the loneliness that makes men pray for the joy of weeping together—twenty years with starving eyes on naked walls, while above me the great, wide seasons were going by—twenty years of void and gloom with the windy waters whipping my prison island, and all the more maddening because I could not hear them, because they too were a silent guard. I was like this boy [touching Vasil, who is leaning toward him listening intently] when they put me in, and I came out—as you see. [Laughs ironically] But I am fortunate. I left others behind me to whom those dark doors will never open, while I have the privilege of—dying above ground.
Adr. It makes no difference which side of a prison door the conquering spirit is on, Gregorief.