You don’t believe in the miracle?
Vassya, do you believe in the miracle?
Yes, of course I do, Mr. Savva.
Wait. You’ll find out. What are they doing down there? They have already crushed three to death.
And they’ll kill many more. And they all keep shouting: “A miracle, a miracle!” At last it has come. They have got what they have been waiting for at last.
And it’s you, Savva, who gave them the miracle. It’s you who are to be thanked for it.
Well, Vassya, the monks are glad, aren’t they? Tell me, don’t be afraid.
They are very glad, Mr. Savva. They are crying.
SAVVA (looking at him)
Crying? Why are they crying?
I don’t know. I suppose for joy. Father Kirill grunts like a pig “Oui, oui, oui.” They all act as if they were drunk.
SAVVA (rising, agitated)
As if they were drunk? What does that mean? Perhaps they really are drunk.
Oh no, Mr. Tropinin. It’s all on account of the miracle. They are mad with joy. Father Kirill keeps grunting “Oui, oui, oui.” He vows that if he remains alive he’ll swear off liquor and live as a hermit.
SAVVA (eyeing him)
What do they say?
They say they’ll do penance and stop sinning. They hug each other and behave as if they were drunk.
SAVVA (walking up and down, stroking his forehead with his hand) Yes, hm. So that’s the way! Yes.
LIPA (following him with her eyes)
Go away from here, Savva. You are not wanted here.
They may recognize you and then—Why don’t
you put on a hat at least?
You look like—
Yes, go—please go—dear Mr. Savva. Why, they—why, they might kill you!
SAVVA (in a sudden outburst of anger)
Leave me alone! No one will kill me. It’s bosh! (Pause. Sits down) I wish I could get a drink of water or something. I am very thirsty. Isn’t there a pool or something of the kind around here?