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      Near the monastery. A broad road crosses the stage obliquely. On the far side of the road is the river, beyond which opens a wide prospect of the surrounding country—meadows, woods, and villages, with the crosses of the churches burning in the sun. In the distance, at the right, where the mountain projects over a glistening bend of the river, is seen a part of the walls and the towers of the monastery. On the near side of the road is a hilly elevation covered with trampled grass. It is between five and six in the morning. The sun is out. The mist over the meadow is scattering slowly.

      Now and then a pilgrim or group of pilgrims may be seen hurrying by on their way to the monastery. Wagons carrying cripples and other monstrosities pass along the road. The noise of thousands may be heard from the monastery. The crowd is evidently moved by some joyous emotion. No individual voices are heard, but it is as if one could feel the singing of the blind, the cries, and the quick, glad snatches of conversation. The general effect is that of an elemental force. The noise decreases at regular intervals, like a wave, and then the singing of the blind becomes distinctly audible.

      Lipa and the Young Friar appear on the near side of the road: Lipa is sitting on the hillock, dressed as she was the night before, but her head is covered with a white scarf carelessly tied. She is exhausted with joy and almost dropping off to sleep. The Friar stands near her. On his face there is a troubled, vacant look. His movements are irresolute and aimless. He tries to smile, but his smile is twisted and pitiful. He is like a child who feels hurt without knowing the cause.

      LIPA (untying her scarf)

      Heavens, but this is splendid! I should like to die here. I can't get enough of it. Oh, it's splendid, it's splendid!

      FRIAR (looking around)

      Yes, it is splendid. But I can't stand it in there. I can't. They push and jostle and press and jam. They crushed the life out of one woman, absolutely crushed her. She had a child with her. I couldn't look at it. I—I'll go to the woods.

      LIPA

      How splendid! Oh, Lord!

      FRIAR (looking dejectedly into the distance)

      I'll go to the woods.

      LIPA

      And to think that only yesterday everything was just as usual. There was nothing of all this, no miracle, nothing. There was only Savva—I can't believe it was yesterday. It seems to me a whole year has passed, a century. Oh, Lord!

      FRIAR (his face clouding)

      Why did he do it? Why?

      LIPA

      Can't you guess, Vassya?

      FRIAR (waving his hand)

      I asked him to come to the woods with me. He should have come.

      LIPA

      Did he tell you anything?

      FRIAR (waving his hand)

      He should have come. Yes, he should have come.

      LIPA

      Ah, Vassya, Vassya, on account of your woods you missed one of the greatest events that ever happened—so great, in fact, that no man remembers the like of it. Ah, Vassya, how can you be speaking about anything else when right now, right here—right here—a miracle has happened. Do you understand? A miracle! The very mention of it fills one with awe. A miracle! Oh, God! Where were you, Vassya, when the explosion occurred? In the woods?

      FRIAR

      Yes, in the woods. I didn't hear the explosion. I only heard the ringing of the alarm bell.

      LIPA

      Well?

      FRIAR

      Nothing. I ran back and found the gate open and everybody crying like mad. And the ikon—

      LIPA

      Well, well? Did you see?

      FRIAR

      Yes, it was in the same place as before. And all around—(Growing animated) You know the iron grating over there—you know it, don't you? It was twisted like a rope. It's funny to look at. It looks like something soft. I touched it, and it wasn't soft, of course. What power! It must have been something tremendous.

      LIPA

      Well, and what about the ikon—the ikon?

      FRIAR

      What about it? Nothing. It's there in its place, and our people are praying to it.

      LIPA

      Oh, Lord! And the glass is whole too?

      FRIAR

      The glass is whole too.

      LIPA

      That's what they told me, but I can't believe it yet. Forgive me, O

       Lord! Well, what are they doing? They are overjoyed, I suppose.

      FRIAR

      Yes, they are overjoyed. They act as if they were drunk. You can't make out what they are saying. A miracle, a miracle. Father Kirill keeps grunting like a pig "Oui, oui, oui." They put cold compresses on his head. He is fat, and he may pass out any moment. No, I can't stand it here. Come, let us go. I'll take you home, Miss Olympiada.

      LIPA

      No, Vassya dear, I'll go in there.

      FRIAR

      Don't go, for heaven's sake. They'll crush you, as they did that woman. They are all like drunk. They are carrying on and shouting like mad, with their eyes wide open. Listen. Can't you hear them?

      LIPA

      You are still a boy, Vassya. You don't understand. Why, it's a miracle. All their lives these people have been waiting for a miracle. Perhaps they had already begun to despair, and now—O Lord! It's enough to make you mad with joy. Yesterday, when I heard the cry of "a miracle," I thought: "No, it's impossible. How could it happen?" But then I saw them crying, crossing themselves, and going down on their knees. And the ringing of the alarm bell stopped.

      FRIAR

      Oh, it was Afanassy who rang. He's terribly strong, a regular giant.

      LIPA

      And the only thing heard was "A miracle, a miracle!" No one spoke, and yet one kept hearing "A miracle, a miracle," as if the whole earth had become articulate. And even now, when I close my eyes, I hear "A miracle, a miracle!" (She closes her eyes and listens with an ecstatic smile) How splendid!

      FRIAR

      I am sorry for Mr. Savva. Listen to the noise they are making.

      LIPA

      Oh, don't talk about him. He'll have to answer to God. Are they going to sing "Christ is arisen" instead of the usual hymn when they carry the ikon in the procession to-day? Vassya, do you hear? I am asking you a question.

      FRIAR

      Yes, they say that they are. Go home, Miss Olympiada, won't you?

      LIPA

      You can go, if you like.

      FRIAR

      But how can I leave you alone? They'll come tearing down here soon.

       For heaven's sake, there is Mr. Savva!

       [Savva comes in hatless. His face is dark and stormy. There are lines under his eyes. He looks sideways with a steady stare. Frequently he glances around and seems to be listening to something. His gait is heavy, but quick. Noticing Lipa and the Friar, he turns and walks toward them. At his approach Lipa rises and turns away.

      SAVVA

      Have you seen Kondraty?

      FRIAR

      No,