you trade in for monasticism?
Twenty or thirty?
And you ran after the
Father Superior, bargaining.
For two meadows, or even one,
you bought eternal salvation.
You don't need me to tell you,
but you prefer to keep quiet.
Perhaps I would also tolerate all
this loathsomeness if I had talent.
But what talent? Just a
slight ability to paint icons.
God be praised that
He gave me no talent.
I'm happy I'm untalented; I can
be honest and pure before God.
You are taking sin upon your soul!
I'll tell you something else, brothers.
What do you want to tell us
that we don't know already?
Do you know what happens to your
sort? Speak! I won't get offended!
Well, I...
Get out, you dog!
Out of my sight, you serpent!
Rejoin the secular world, slanderer!
Now do you see?
Kirill!
Kirill!
It is written: " And Jesus
went into the temple of God...
"...and cast out all them that
sold and bought in the temple...
"...and overthrew the tables
of the money changers...
"...and the seats of them
that sold doves.
" And said unto them," it is written,
" My house shall be called...
"...the house of prayer; but ye
have made it a den of thieves."
For three years I was
cleaning brushes for Danil...
...before he let me touch an icon.
And then only to clean it.
Don't you trust me?
You're always lying, Foma.
Yesterday your robe was
sticky; where were you?
At the beehive.
But you said you
were at the monastery.
Just look at yourself.
Put mud or something
on your cheek...
...or you will swell, like a hog.
It's too late now, it's useless.
You're constantly making up stories.
I even think you have a disease.
Me? What disease?
There is a disease where a
man lies without stopping.
Look, Foma.
Look, I say.
What?
You think you know everything so
I'm not going to teach you any more.
Why should I learn?
Anyway, I will have to spend
three years cleaning the brushes.
I'm sick and tired of you, Foma.
Go back to the monastery,
go wherever you want.
I can't understand why
I took you as a pupil.
You are always like that. First
you say one thing then another.
You yourself told
Theophanes I was perceptive.
You were different then;
you worked, you didn't lie.
And do you know
what Theophanes said?
" What does it matter
if he's perceptive?"
Whatever Theophanes has said...
...I can see blue colors
better than anyone else.
You eat too much; how can you
paint with a bloated stomach?
When your stomach's rumbling,
how can your mind work?
The rumbling is the
only sound you hear.
You're lucky, Foma. For
you, everything is simple.
If you are not painting, you
are sleeping or fooling around.
But only by prayer can
the soul transcend the flesh.
Would you go to learn from
another teacher instead of me?
Why not, if you tell me to go?
Come on, come on. Don't be angry.
What's that?
So you've decided to put
the apostle on the left, Andrei.
Did you take the glue off the fire?
Did you take the glue off the fire?
Perceptive is he?
He should be beaten
every Saturday, like a dog.
You're obstinate, Andrei.
How did you see so much? Everyone
else is thinking only of himself.
I saw it, Theophanes.
The women of Moscow
gave their hair to the Tatars.
What else could the
poor creatures do?
Better to lose their hair than
be tortured. Is that heroic?
It is.
It is true that Russian women
are humiliated and unhappy.
It's not what I mean.
Tell me honestly, are the
people ignorant or not?
Well, are they?
They're ignorant, but
whose fault is that?
It's their own stupidity. Have you
never sinned through ignorance?
Everyone has.
And I have too. God forgive
us and make us better.
Well, never mind.
The Last Judgment is coming;
we'll burn like candles.
Mark my words.
Each will accuse the other of
his own sins, to defend himself.
Theophanes, how can you paint with
such ideas, even accept praise?
I have become a hermit
and lived in a cave.
I serve God, not man.
As regards praise, what