The sick man took the glass and drank what was in it, but his hand shook, and the empty glass smashed at his feet.

" A lucky sign! A lucky signl" whispered Korovyov to Margarita. " See, he's already getting better."

Indeed, the sick man's gaze no longer seemed so wild and distraught.

" But is it really you, Margot? " asked the moonlight guest.

" Have no doubt, it's me, " Margarita replied.

" Give him some morel" ordered Woland.

After the Master had drained a second glass, his eyes looked alive and comprehending.

" Well, now, that's something else entirely, " said Woland, narrowing his eyes. " Now let's talk. Who are you? "

" Now I am no one, " replied the Master, his mouth twisted in a smile.

" Where did you just come from? "

" From an insane asylum. I'm mentally ill, " replied the newcomer.

Margarita could not stand to hear these words, and burst into tears again. Then she wiped her eyes and cried, " Horrible words! Horrible words! He's the Master, Messire, I can assure you ofthat. Cure him, he deserves it."

" Do you know whom you are speaking to now? " Woland asked the newcomer, " Do you know whose guest you are? "

" Yes, " answered the Master. " My neighbor in the madhouse was that boy Ivan Bezdomny. He told me about you."

" Well, well, " replied Woland. " I had the pleasure of meeting that young man at Patriarch's Ponds. He nearly drove me out of my mind, trying to prove to me that I don't exist! But you, do you believe that it's really me? "

" I have to believe that, " said the newcomer, " although it would, of course, be a lot more soothing to regard you as a product of my hallucinations. Excuse me, " added the Master, catching himself.

" Well, if it's more soothing, then by all means do so, " replied Woland politely.

" No, no, " said Margarita fearfully, shaking the Master by the shoulder. " Come to your senses! It really is him! "

The cat put in a word here as well, " But I really do look like a hallucination. Look at my profile in the moonlight." The cat crawled into a strip of moonlight and wanted to say something else, but was asked to be quiet, so he replied, " All right, all right, I'm ready to be quiet. I'll be a silent hallucination, " and fell silent.

The Liberation of the Matter 245

" But tell me, why does Margarita call you the Master? " asked Woland.

The newcomer laughed and said, " A pardonable weakness on her part. She has too high an opinion of the novel I wrote."

" What is the novel about? "

" It is about Pontius Pilate."

Here again the tongues of flame on the candles began to flicker and jump, the dishes started rattling on the table, and Woland burst out into thunderous laughter, but no one was frightened or surprised by this. For some reason Behemoth began to applaud.

" About what? About what? About whom? " said Woland, after he stopped laughing. " In these times? Why, that's stupendous! Couldn't you find another subject? Let me have a look at it." Woland stretched out his hand, palm upward.

" Unfortunately, I can't do that, " replied the Master, " because I burned it in the stove."

" Forgive me, but I don't believe you, " said Woland. That cannot be. Manuscripts don't burn." He turned to Behemoth and said, " Well now, Behemoth, let's have the novel."

The cat jumped off the chair instantly, and everyone saw that he had been sitting on a thick pile of manuscripts. The cat handed the top one to Woland with a bow. Again almost in tears, Margarita started trembling and shouting, " There it is, the manuscript! There it is! "

She threw herself at Woland and added rapturously, " He's omnipotent! Omnipotent! "

Woland took the copy handed to him, turned it over, put it aside, and stared silently and unsmilingly at the Master. For no apparent reason the latter suddenly became distressed and anxious, got up from his chair, wrung his hands, and turning to the distant moon, began trembling and muttering, " Even at night in the moonlight I have no peace... Why have they disturbed me? O gods, gods..."

Margarita clutched at his hospital robe, pressed close to him, and began muttering in tears and anguish, " My God, why isn't the medicine helping you? "

" Never mind, never mind, never mind, " whispered Korovyov, weaving about near the Master. " Never mind, Never mind... Just have another glass, and I'll keep you company..."

And the little glass twinkled and sparkled in the moonlight, and that glass did help. They sat the Master in his place, and the sick man's face became calm.

" Well, now everything is clear, " said Woland, drumming on the manuscript with his middle finger.

" Totally clear, " confirmed the cat, having forgotten his promise to be a silent hallucination. The gist of this opus is now completely clear to me. What do you say, Azazello? " he said, turning to the silent Azazello.

246 The Master and Margarita

" I say, " said the latter in a nasal twang, " that it would be a good idea to drown you."

" Have mercy, Azazello, " replied the cat, " and don't give my master any ideas. Take my word for it, I'd appear to you every night wearing the same moonlight garb as the poor Master here, and I'd beckon to you and lure you into following me. How would you like that, O Azazello? "

" Well, Margarita, " said Woland, joining the conversation once again, " Tell me everything, what do you want? "

Margarita's eyes flashed, and she addressed Woland imploringly, " May I have a word with him? "

Woland nodded, and Margarita leaned over to the Master and whispered something in his ear. One could hear his reply to her, " No, it's too late. I want nothing more in life. Except to see you. But my advice to you is still the same—leave me. If you stay with me, you'll be lost too."

" No, I won't leave you, " answered Margarita, and she turned to Woland. " I ask that we be returned to the basement apartment on the side street near the Arbat, and that the lamp be lit and that everything be just as it was."

Here the Master laughed, wrapped his arms around Margarita's long-dishevelled curly head, and said, " Ah, don't listen to the poor woman, Messire. Someone else has been living in that basement for a long time now, and besides, as a rule, things can't go back to what they were." He rested his cheek against his beloved Margarita's head, embraced her and began murmuring, " My poor thing, my poor thing..."

" Can't be as they were, you say? " said Woland. That's true. But we'll give it a try." And he said, " Azazello! "

Immediately, from the ceiling there fell on the floor a bewildered and nearly deranged citizen clad only in his underwear, who was for some reason wearing a cap and holding a suitcase. The man was shaking and turning gray with fright.

" Are you Mogarych? " Azazello inquired of the one who had fallen from the sky.

" Aloisy Mogarych, " the latter replied, trembling.

" Are you the one who read Latunsky's article on this man's novel and then filed a complaint against him, saying that he had illegal literature in his possession? " asked Azazello.