ho am
asking you, but my inside, using the words you understand, that's what's
asking! My illness is what's asking! Understand!

TIHON. We don't understand anything.... Get back!

BORTSOV. Because if I don't have a drink at once, just you understand
this, if I don't satisfy my needs, I may commit some crime. God only
knows what I might do! In the time you've kept this place, you rascal,
haven't you seen a lot of drunkards, and haven't you yet got to
understand what they're like? They're diseased! You can do anything you
like to them, but you must give them vodka! Well, now, I implore you!
Please! I humbly ask you! God only knows how humbly!

TIHON. You can have the vodka if you pay for it.

BORTSOV. Where am I to get the money? I've drunk it all! Down to the
ground! What can I give you? I've only got this coat, but I can't give
you that. I've nothing on underneath.... Would you like my cap? [Takes
it off and gives it to TIHON]

TIHON. [Looks it over] Hm.... There are all sorts of caps.... It might
be a sieve from the holes in it....

FEDYA. [Laughs] A gentleman's cap! You've got to take it off in front of
the mam'selles. How do you do, good-bye! How are you?

TIHON. [Returns the cap to BORTSOV] I wouldn't give anything for it.
It's muck.

BORTSOV. If you don't like it, then let me owe you for the drink! I'll
bring in your five copecks on my way back from town. You can take it and
choke yourself with it then! Choke yourself! I hope it sticks in your
throat! [Coughs] I hate you!

TIHON. [Banging the bar-counter with his fist] Why do you keep on like
that? What a man! What are you here for, you swindler?

BORTSOV. I want a drink! It's not I, it's my disease! Understand that!

TIHON. Don't you make me lose my temper, or you'll soon find yourself
outside!

BORTSOV. What am I to do? [Retires from the bar-counter] What am I to
do? [Is thoughtful.]

EFIMOVNA. It's the devil tormenting you. Don't you mind him, sir. The
damned one keeps whispering, "Drink! Drink!" And you answer him, "I
shan't drink! I shan't drink!" He'll go then.

FEDYA. It's drumming in his head.... His stomach's leading him on!
[Laughs] Your houour's a happy man. Lie down and go to sleep! What's the
use of standing like a scarecrow in the middle of the inn! This isn't an
orchard!

BORTSOV. [Angrily] Shut up! Nobody spoke to you, you donkey.

FEDYA. Go on, go on! We've seen the like of you before! There's a lot
like you tramping the high r