able place. There are nice spots there
which no one ever visits, somewhere between the mute walls, where
there is nothing but grass and fallen stones and a lot of old, old
litter. I love to linger there, especially at twilight, or on hot
sunny days like to-day. I close my eyes, and I seem to look far,
far into the distant past--at those who built it and those who first
prayed in it. There they walk along the path carrying bricks and
singing something, so softly, so far away. _(Closing her eyes)_ So
softly, so softly.

SAVVA

I don't like the old. As to the building of the monastery, it was done
by serfs, of course; and when they carried bricks they didn't sing,
but quarrelled and cursed one another. That's more like it.

LIPA _(opening her eyes)_

Those are my dreams. You see, Savva, I am all alone here. I have
nobody to talk to. Tell me--You won't be angry, will you?--Tell me,
just me alone, why did you come here to us? It wasn't to pray. It
wasn't for the feast-day. You don't look like a pilgrim.

SAVVA _(frowning)_

I don't like you to be so curious.

LIPA

How can you think I am? Do I look as if I were curious? You have
been here for two weeks, and you ought to see that I am lonely. I am
lonely, Savva. Your coming was to me like manna fallen from the sky.
You are the first living human being that has come here from over
there, from real life. In Moscow I lived very quietly, just reading my
books; and here--you see the sort of people we have here.

SAVVA

Do you think it's different in other places?

LIPA

I don't know. That's what I should like to find out from you. You have
seen so much. You have even been abroad.

SAVVA

Only for a short time.

LIPA

That makes no difference. You have met many cultured, wise,
interesting people. You have lived with them. How do they live? What
kind of people are they? Tell me all about it.

SAVVA

A mean, contemptible lot.

LIPA

Is that so? You don't say so!

SAVVA

They live just as you do here--a stupid, senseless existence. The
only difference is in the language they speak. But that makes it still
worse. The justification for cattle is that, they are without
speech. But when the cattle become articulate, begin to speak, defend
themselves and express ideas then the situation becomes intolerable,
unmitigatedly repulsive. Their dwelling-places are different
too--yes--but that's a small thing. I was in a city inhabited by a
hundred thousand peopl