OSSEP.  But if he has received on account of this debt the note of a third person?

ALEXANDER.  That is another thing.  Have you a receipt for it?

OSSEP.  No; but I can take my oath on it.

ALEXANDER.  According to law you must first pay the money and then produce proofs that you gave him the other document.

OSSEP [excited].  Is that true?

ALEXANDER.  Yes, it is so.

OSSEP [wringing his hands and springing up].  Then I am ruined. [A silence.  Nato’s voice is heard outside.] Alexander, they are calling you.

ALEXANDER [approaching Ossep].  What is it?  For God’s sake tell me the truth.

OSSEP.  There, there.  Go out first.  They are calling you.

ALEXANDER [aside, taking his hat].  So far as I see, I am ruined also.
                    [Exit.

OSSEP [alone].  What do I not suffer!  If they really come here I shall perish through shame.  Where can I find so much money in such a hurry?  One must have time for it, and that fellow may come to-day even—­perhaps this minute.  Then I am lost—­who will trust me then?  My creditors will tie a rope around my neck and prevent me from saying a word in my own behalf.  “Pay us,” they will cry; “pay us!” O Salome, Salome!

Enter Gewo.

OSSEP.  There he is.

GEWO.  Good-evening, Ossep.

OSSEP.  You have come, too.  You want your money, too?  Yes, choke me; double my debt; say that I owe you, not 2,000 rubles, but 4,000.  Speak!  You are my creditor; speak!  Have no pity on me.  You want your money—­why do you wait, then?  Slay me; tear my heart out of my body; hack me in pieces and sell it piece by piece, so that your money shall not be lost. [Gewo wipes his eyes.] Weep, weep, for your money is lost.  I am bankrupt—­bankrupt!

GEWO [embracing Ossep].  Dear Ossep, dear Ossep!

OSSEP.  You say “dear” to me?  Yet you are my creditor.

GEWO.  Take courage; be a man!

OSSEP.  What kind of a man?  I am a good-for-nothing; I have lost my good name [weeping].  My good name is gone. [Wipes his eyes.]

GEWO.  God is merciful, dear Ossep.

OSSEP.  God and heaven have taken their mercy from me.  You see now where the marriage of my daughter has led me?  If I could at least pay you everything I owe you—­that I must do at any price.

GEWO.  What are you saying, Ossep?  If I had the means I would go on your bond.  Why should I be your friend otherwise?

OSSEP.  If you had money, dear Gewo, you would not be my friend, nor have such a good heart.  Stay poor as you are, so that I shall not lose your friendship.  Only your sympathy is left me in this world.  I would not like to lose your friendship.  In this one day I have suffered everything.  No one has shown interest in me; no one has given proof of his sympathy—­neither my uncle, nor my brother, nor my nephew.  When they saw I was near my last breath, they all forsook me and shut the door in my face.