"How many people have you fleeced and turned to beggars?
Do you ever dream of Ivan Petrov Myakinnikov, who strangled himself because of you?
Is it true that you steal at every mass ten roubles out of the church box ?" Zubov had not expected the attack, and he remained as petrified, with his hand uplifted.

But he immediately began to scream in a shrill voice, as he jumped up quickly: "Ah! You turn against me also?
Against me, too ?" And suddenly he puffed up his cheeks and furiously began to shake his fist at Foma, as he screamed in a shrill voice: "The fool says in his heart there is no God! I'll go to the bishop! Infidel! You'll get the galleys!" The tumult on the steamer grew, and at the sight of these enraged, perplexed and insulted people, Foma felt himself a fairy-tale giant, slaying monsters.

They bustled about, waving their arms, talking to one another--some red with anger, others pale, yet all equally powerless to check the flow of his jeers at them.
"Send the sailors over here!" cried Reznikov, tugging Kononov by the shoulder.

"What's the matter with you, Ilya?
Ah?
Have you invited us to be ridiculed ?" "Against one puppy," screamed Zubov.
A crowd had gathered around Yakov Tarasovitch Mayakin, and listened to his quiet speech with anger, and nodded their heads affirmatively.
"Act, Yakov!" said Robustov, loudly.

"We are all witnesses.