VASSILISA [_disappearing through window_] I'll arrange some wedding
for you . . .
KOSTILYOFF [_crossing to Luka_] Well, old man, how's everything?
LUKA. All right!
KOSTILYOFF. You're going away, they say--?
LUKA. Soon.
KOSTILYOFF. Where to?
LUKA. I'll follow my nose . . .
KOSTILYOFF. Tramping, eh? Don't like stopping in one place all the
time, do you?
LUKA. Even water won't pass beneath a stone that's sunk too firmly in
the ground, they say . . .
KOSTILYOFF. That's true for a stone. But man must settle in one place.
Men can't live like cockroaches, crawling about wherever they want.
. . . A man must stick to one place--and not wander about
aimlessly . . .
LUKA. But suppose his home is wherever he hangs his hat?
KOSTILYOFF. Why, then--he's a vagabond,--useless . . . a human being
must be of some sort of use--he must work . . .
LUKA. That's what you think, eh?
KOSTILYOFF. Yes--sure . . . just look! What's a vagabond? A strange
fellow . . . unlike all others. If he's a real pilgrim then he's some
good in the world . . . perhaps he discovered a new truth. Well--but
not every truth is worth while. Let him keep it to himself and shut up
about it! Or else--let him speak in a way which no one can understand
. . . don't let him interfere . . . don't let him stir up people
without cause! It's none of his business how other people live! Let
him follow his own righteous path . . . in the woods--or in a
monastery--away from everybody! He mustn't interfere--nor condemn
other people--but pray--pray for all of us--for all the world's
sins--for mine--for yours--for everybody's. To pray--that's why he
forsakes the world's turmoil! That's so! [_Pause_] But you--what sort
of a pilgrim are you--? An honest person must have a passport . . .
all honest people have passports . . . yes . . . !
LUKA. In this world there are people--and also just plain men . . .
KOSTILYOFF. Don't coin wise sayings! Don't give me riddles! I'm as
clever as you . . . what's the difference--people and men?
LUKA. What riddle is there? I say--there's sterile and there's fertile
ground . . . whatever you sow in it, grows . . . that's all . . .
KOSTILYOFF. What do you mean?
LUKA. Take yourself for instance . . . if the Lord God himself said to
you: "Mikhailo, be a man!"--it would be useless--nothing would come of
it--you're doomed to remain just as you are . . .
KOSTILYOFF. Oh--but do you realize that my wife's uncle is a
policeman, and that if I . . .
VASSILISA [_coming in_] Mikhail Ivanitch--come and have your tea . . .
KOSTILYOFF [_to Luka_] You listen! Get out! You leave this
place--hear?
VASSILISA. Yes--get out, old man! Your tongue's too long! And--who
knows--you may be an escaped convict . . .
KOSTILYOFF. If I ever see sign of you again after to-day--well--I've
warned you!
LUKA. You'll call your uncle, eh? Go on--call him! Tell him you've
caught an escaped convict--and maybe uncle'll get a reward--perhaps
all of three kopecks . . .
BUBNOFF [_in the window_] What are you bargaining about? Three
kopecks--for what?
LUKA. They're threatening to sell me . . .
VASSILISA [_to her husband_] Come . . .
BUBNOFF. For three kopecks? Well--look out, old man--they may even do
it for one!
KOSTILYOFF [_to Bubnoff_] You have a habit of jumping up like a
jack-in-the-box!