PEPEL. Now I look at you--seems to me all that filing and scraping of
yours is useless.
KLESHTCH. Well--what else can I do?
PEPEL. Nothing.
KLESHTCH. How can I live?
PEPEL. People manage, somehow.
KLESHTCH. Them? Call them people? Muck and dregs--that's what they
are! I'm a workman--I'm ashamed even to look at them. I've slaved
since I was a child. . . . D'you think I shan't be able to tear myself
away from here? I'll crawl out of here, even if I have to leave my
skin behind--but crawl out I will! Just wait . . . my wife'll die
. . . I've lived here six months, and it seems like six years.
PEPEL. Nobody here's any worse off than you . . . say what you
like . . .
KLESHTCH. No worse is right. They've neither honor nor conscience.
PEPEL [_indifferently_] What good does it do--honor or conscience? Can
you get them on their feet instead of on their uppers--through honor
and conscience? Honor and conscience are needed only by those who have
power and energy . . .
BUBNOFF [_coming back_] Oh--I'm frozen . . .
PEPEL. Bubnoff! Got a conscience?
BUBNOFF. What? A conscience?
PEPEL. Exactly!
BUBNOFF. What do I need a conscience for? I'm not rich.
PEPEL. Just what I said: honor and conscience are for the rich--right!
And Kleshtch is upbraiding us because we haven't any!
BUBNOFF. Why--did he want to borrow some of it?
PEPEL. No--he has plenty of his own . . .
BUBNOFF. Oh--are you selling it? You won't sell much around here. But
if you had some old boxes, I'd buy them--on credit . . .
PEPEL [_didactically_] You're a jackass, Andrushka! On the subject of
conscience you ought to hear Satine--or the Baron . . .
KLESHTCH. I've nothing to talk to them about!
PEPEL. They have more brains than you--even if they're drunkards . . .
BUBNOFF. He who can be drunk and wise at the same time is doubly
blessed . . .
PEPEL. Satine says every man expects his neighbor to have a
conscience, but--you see--it isn't to any one's advantage to have
one--that's a fact.
[_Natasha enters, followed by Luka who carries a stick in his hand, a
bundle on his back, a kettle and a teapot slung from his belt._]
LUKA. How are you, honest folks?
PEPEL [_twisting his mustache_] Aha--Natasha!
BUBNOFF [_to Luka_] I was honest--up to spring before last.
NATASHA. Here's a new lodger . . .
LUKA. Oh, it's all the same to me. Crooks--I don't mind them, either.
For my part there's no bad flea--they're all black--and they all
jump-- . . . Well, dearie, show me where I can stow myself.
NATASHA [_pointing to kitchen door_] Go in there, grand-dad.
LUKA. Thanks, girlie! One place is like another--as long as an old
fellow keeps warm, he keeps happy . . .
PEPEL. What an amusing old codger you brought in, Natasha!
NATASHA. A hanged sight more interesting than you! . . . Andrei, your
wife's in the kitchen with us--come and fetch her after a while . . .
KLESHTCH. All right--I will . . .
NATASHA. And be a little more kind to her--you know she won't last
much longer.
KLESHTCH. I know . . .
NATASHA. Knowing won't do any good--it's terrible--dying--don't you
understand?
PEPEL. Well--look at me--I'm not afraid . . .
NATASHA. Oh--you're a wonder, aren't you?
BUBNOFF [_whistling_] Oh--this thread's rotten . . .
PEPEL. Honestly, I'm not afraid! I'm ready to die right now. Knife me
to the heart--and I'll die without making a sound . . . even
gladly--from such a pure hand . . .
NATASHA [_going out_] Spin that yarn for some one else!