NAZAROVNA. [To SAVVA] If you'd only lie where it was warm now,
old man, and warm your feet. [Pause.] Old man! Man of God! [Shakes
SAVVA] Are you going to die?

FEDYA. You ought to drink a little vodka, grandfather. Drink, and
it'll burn, burn in your stomach, and warm up your heart. Drink,
do!

NAZAROVNA. Don't swank, young man! Perhaps the old man is giving
back his soul to God, or repenting for his sins, and you talk like
that, and play your concertina. ... Put it down! You've no shame!

FEDYA. And what are you sticking to him for? He can't do anything
and you ... with your old women's talk ... He can't say a word in
reply, and you're glad, and happy because he's listening to your
nonsense. ... You go on sleeping, grandfather; never mind her! Let
her talk, don't you take any notice of her. A woman's tongue is
the devil's broom--it will sweep the good man and the clever man
both out of the house. Don't you mind. ... [Waves his hands] But
it's thin you are, brother of mine! Terrible! Like a dead skeleton!
No life in you! Are you really dying?

SAVVA. Why should I die? Save me, O Lord, from dying in vain. ...
I'll suffer a little, and then get up with God's help. ... The
Mother of God won't let me die in a strange land. ... I'll die at
home.

FEDYA. Are you from far off?