Sasha. You know that I am your son.
Pras. My son is dead; he was murdered. I buried his body in the Tróitski Cemetery.
Sasha. But you see that I was not murdered. Touch me; feel me. I am alive. I and Adámek fought; it was not Adámek that slew me, it was....
Pras. No, no! I want to hear no more. You have come to torment me. Only say what you want of me, anything, and I will do it, if you will leave me in peace.
Sasha. I want food and clothing; I want shelter; I must have money.
Pras. You will go if I give you money? Yes? Say that you will go, far, far away, and never come back to tell lies.... But I have no money to give; I am a poor woman.
Sasha. Come, what's all this?
Pras. No, no! I need it; I can't spare it. What I have I have starved myself to get. Two roubles, five roubles, even ten roubles I will give you, if you will go far, far away....
Fomá. Before he can travel we must bribe some peasant to lend him his passport.
Pras. Has he no passport then?