SPERANSKY (stepping back)
Excuse me, Mr. Tropinin, but from their point of view—I don’t know.
You don’t know?
Who does know? (Cries out, in despair) The dead alone, Mr. Savva, the dead alone.
Ah! You are cornered—Antichrist!
LIPA (in terror)
[Hearing the cry, the two pilgrims who were with Kondraty approach. They are gradually joined by others, among whom is the Man in Peasant Overcoat.
What is it, father? Has he revealed himself?
Look at him, look at him!
Vassya, you dear, fine boy—Vassya, what is the matter with them? Hear what they are saying. Hear the nonsense they are talking. You good, nice boy!
FRIAR (drawing back)
Mr. Savva, don’t, don’t. Go away from here. Leave this place.
Vassya, Vassya, you, you—
But I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I am afraid.
Ah! You are cornered. Here is your money—take it! It has burned holes in my pockets, your accursed money. Here, take it, take it, you brood of Antichrist! (Throws the money at him)
SAVVA (raising his fist as if to deal a blow) I’ll teach you—
Boys, don’t be afraid. Here boys, here!
SAVVA (pressing his head between his hands)
Oh, it hurts, it hurts! Darkness is closing in.
It’s beginning to get you, is it? That’s right, that’s right.
SAVVA (sinking for a moment into profound, terrible meditation; then he straightens himself suddenly and seems to grow in stature; he cries out with a wild joy as if speaking above the heads of all to reach somebody far off) I am right! Therefore I am right! It was all necessary! All! All! (He stands as if petrified in an upward-striving posture)