Savva and The Life of Man | Page 9

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 people.
The windows in the house of that city are all small. Those living in
them are all fond of light, but it never occurs to anyone that the
windows might be made larger. And when a new house is built, they
put in the same kind of windows, just as small, just as they have always
been.
LIPA
The idea! I never would have thought it. But they can't all be like that.
You must have met good people who knew how to live.
SAVVA
I don't know how to make you understand. Yes, I did meet, if not
altogether good people, yet--The last people with whom I lived were a
pretty good sort. They didn't accept life ready-made, but tried to make
it over to suit themselves. But--
LIPA
Who were they--students?
SAVVA
No. Look here--how about your tongue--is it of the loose kind?
LIPA
Savva, you ought to be ashamed!
SAVVA
All right. Now then. You've read of people who make bombs--little
bombs, you understand? Now if they see anybody who interferes with
life, they take him off. They're called anarchists. But that isn't quite
correct. (Contemptuously) Nice anarchists they are!

LIPA (starting back, awestruck)
What are you talking about? You can't possibly be in earnest. It isn't
true. And you in it, too? Why, you look so simple and talk so simply,
and suddenly--I was hot a moment ago, but now I am cold, _(The
rooster crows-under the window, calling the chickens to share some
seed he has found)_
SAVVA
There now--you're frightened. First you want me to tell you, and then--
LIPA
Don't mind me, Savva, it's nothing. It was so unexpected. I thought
such people didn't really exist--that they were just a fiction of the
imagination. And then, all of a sudden, to find you, my brother--You
are not joking, Savva? Look me straight in the eye.
SAVVA
But why did you get frightened? They are not so terrible after all. In
fact, they are very quiet, orderly people, and very deliberate. They meet
and meet, and weigh and consider a long time, and then--bang!--a
sparrow drops dead. The next minute there is another sparrow in its
place, hopping about on the very same branch. Why are you looking at
my hands?
LIPA
Oh, nothing.