TIHON. Well, well ... don't get excited. Here have a glass. ...
Have a drink, now!

MERIK. People, what do I want? Do I want him to stand me vodka, or
to take off my boots? Didn't I say it properly? [To TIHON] Didn't
you hear me rightly? I'll wait a moment, perhaps you'll hear me then.

[There is excitement among the pilgrims and tramps, who half-raise
themselves in order to look at TIHON and MERIK. They wait in silence.]

TIHON. The devil brought you here! [Comes out from behind the bar]
What a gentleman! Come on now. [Takes off MERIK'S boots] You child
of Cain ...

MERIK. That's right. Put them side by side. ... Like that ... you
can go now!

TIHON. [Returns to the bar-counter] You're too fond of being
clever. You do it again and I'll turn you out of the inn! Yes! [To
BORTSOV, who is approaching] You, again?

BORTSOV. Look here, suppose I give you something made of gold. ...
I will give it to you.

TIHON. What are you shaking for? Talk sense!

BORTSOV. It may be mean and wicked on my part, but what am I to do?
I'm doing this wicked thing, not reckoning on what's to come. ...
If I was tried for it, they'd let me off. Take it, only on