We are gladly ready to come to you and resign ourselves to you and help you to live.

There is nothing else for us to do! Without you we are without ground to stand on; without us, you are without light! Comrades! we were created by Fate itself to complete one another!" "What does he beg of them ?" thought Foma, listening to Yozhov's words with perplexity.

And examining the faces of the compositors he saw that they also looked at the orator inquiringly, perplexedly, wearily.
"The future is yours, my friends!" said Yozhov, faintly, shaking his head mournfully as though feeling sorry for the future, and yielding to these people against his will the predominance over it.

"The future belongs to the men of honest toil.

You have a great task before you! You have to create a new culture, everything free, vital and bright! I, who am one of you in flesh and in spirit; who am the son of a soldier; I propose a toast to your future! Hurrah!" Yozhov emptied his glass and sank heavily to the ground.