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THE GOD OF VENGEANCE
Yekel, enters from Rifkele's room. He is without hat or coat; his hair is in disorder. His eyes have a wild glare, and he speaks slowly, with a subdued, hoarse voice.
I'll go. . . You'll go. . . Rifkele will go. . . Everything and everybody will go. . . (Pointing to the brothel.) Down into the cellar. . . God won't have it otherwise. . .
Yekel, what's possessed you? Have you gone crazy? (Approaching him.) Consider what you're doing. A misfortune has befallen us. Agreed. To whom don't misfortunes happen? Come. Let us hunt out Shloyme. We'll give him two or three hundred roubles and let him give us back our child. He'll do it, all right. . . Well, what are you sitting there moping about? What's the matter with you?
Yekel, in the same hoarse voice, as he paces about the room.
It's all the same to me now. My soul is given over to the devil. Nothing will help. It's no use. God won't have it. . . (He stops before the window and peers through an interstice of the shutter.)
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