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SAVVA

What do you see?  God?

TONY

There is no God.

SAVVA

How’s that?

TONY

And no devil either.  There’s nothing, no people, no animals, nothing.

SAVVA

What is there then?

TONY

There are only faces, a whole lot of faces.  It’s faces, faces, faces.  They are very funny, and I keep laughing all the time.  I just sit still, and the faces come jumping and gliding past me, jumping and gliding.  You’ve got a very funny face too, Savva. (Sadly) It’s enough to make one die of laughter.

SAVVA (laughing gayly)

What kind of a face have I?

TONY

That’s the kind of face you have. (Pointing his finger at him) She also has a face, and she.  And father too.  And then there are other faces.  There are a lot of faces.  I sit in the tavern and see everything.  Nothing escapes me.  You can’t fool me.  Some faces are small and some are large, and all of them glide and glide—­Some are far away, and some are as close to me as if they wanted to kiss me or bite my nose.  They have teeth.

SAVVA

All right, Tony, now you can go.  We’ll talk about the faces later.  Your own face is funny enough.

TONY

Yes, of course.  I, too, have a face.

SAVVA

All right, all right.  Go now.  Don’t forget to send in the whiskey.

TONY

As in the daytime so at night.  A lot of faces. (From the door) And in regards to whiskey, maybe I’ll send it and maybe I won’t.  I can’t tell yet.

SAVVA (to Lipa)

Has he been that way a long time?

LIPA

I don’t know.  I think so.  He drinks an awful lot.

PELAGUEYA (going)

No wonder.  You’re enough to drive a man to drink.  Cranks. (Exit)

LIPA

My, how stifling!  I don’t know what to do with myself.  Say, Savva, why aren’t you nicer to Polya?  She is such a wretched creature.

SAVVA

A slavish soul.

LIPA

It isn’t her fault if she’s that way.

SAVVA (coldly)

Nor mine either.