After describing all the charms of the devil, the beauty of evil, and the fascinating grace of the dreadful female form, the old man cursed the devil, turned and shut himself up in his cell.⁠ ⁠…

When he came out of his cell in the morning there was not a monk left in the monastery; they had all fled to the town.

Night. Varka, the little nurse, a girl of thirteen, is rocking the cradle in which the baby is lying, and humming hardly audibly:

“Hush-a-bye, my baby wee,

While I sing a song for thee.”

“Hush-a-bye, my baby wee, While I sing a song for thee.”