Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol
Terrible revenge
The end of Kyiv is making noise and thundering: Captain Gorobets is celebrating the wedding of his son. Many people came to visit Yesaul. In the old days they loved to eat well, they loved to drink even better, and even better they loved to have fun. The Cossack Mikitka also arrived on his bay horse straight from a riotous drinking binge from the Pereshlyaya field, where he fed red wine to the royal nobles for seven days and seven nights. The captain's sworn brother, Danilo Burulbash, also arrived from the other bank of the Dnieper, where, between two mountains, there was his farm, with his young wife Katerina and his one-year-old son. The guests marveled at Mrs. Katerina’s white face, her eyebrows as black as German velvet, her elegant cloth and underwear made of blue half-sleeve, and her boots with silver horseshoes; but they were even more surprised that the old father did not come with her. He lived in the Trans-Dnieper region for only a year, but for twenty-one he disappeared without a trace and returned to his daughter when she had already married and given birth to a son. He would probably tell a lot of wonderful things. How can I not tell you, having been in a foreign land for so long! Everything is wrong there: the people are not the same, and there are no churches of Christ... But he did not come.
The guests were served Varenukha with raisins and plums and Korowai on a large platter. The musicians began to work on its underside, baked together with the money, and, becoming silent for a while, they placed cymbals, violins and tambourines near them. Meanwhile, the young women and girls, having wiped themselves with embroidered scarves, stepped out again from their ranks; and the boys, clutching their sides, proudly looking around, were ready to rush towards them - when the old captain brought out two icons to bless the young. He got those icons from the honest schema-monk, Elder Bartholomew. Their utensils are not rich, neither silver nor gold burns, but no evil spirit will dare to touch the one who has them in the house. Raising the icons up, the captain was preparing to say a short prayer... when suddenly the children playing on the ground screamed, frightened; and after them the people retreated, and everyone pointed with fear at the Cossack standing in their midst. No one knew who he was. But he had already danced to the glory of a Cossack and had already managed to make the crowd surrounding him laugh. When the captain raised the icons, suddenly his whole face changed: his nose grew and bent to the side, instead of brown, green eyes jumped, his lips turned blue, his chin trembled and became sharpened like a spear, a fang ran out of his mouth, a hump rose from behind his head, and became an old Cossack.
It is he! It is he! - they shouted in the crowd, huddling closely together.
The sorcerer has appeared again! - mothers shouted, grabbing their children in their arms.
The esaul stepped forward majestically and dignifiedly and said in a loud voice, holding up the icons in front of him:
Get lost, image of Satan, there is no place for you here! - And, hissing and clicking his teeth like a wolf, the wonderful old man disappeared.
They went, they went and made a noise like the sea in bad weather, talk and speeches among the people.
What kind of sorcerer is this? - asked young and unprecedented people.
There will be trouble! - the old people said, turning their heads.
And everywhere, throughout the wide courtyard of Yesaul, they began to gather in groups and listen to stories about the wonderful sorcerer. But almost everyone said different things, and probably no one could tell about him.
A barrel of honey was rolled out into the yard and quite a few buckets of walnut wine were placed. Everything was cheerful again. The musicians thundered; girls, young women, dashing Cossacks in bright zhupans rushed. The ninety- and one-hundred-year-old old people, having had a good time, began to dance for themselves, remembering the missing years for good reason. They feasted until late at night, and they feasted in a way that they no longer feast. The guests began to disperse, but few wandered back home: many remained to spend the night with the captain in the wide courtyard; and even more Cossacks fell asleep themselves, uninvited, under the benches, on the floor, near the horse, near the stable; Where the Cossack head staggers from drunkenness, there he lies and snores for all of Kyiv to hear.
It shines quietly all over the world: then the moon appeared from behind the mountain. It was as if he had covered the mountainous bank of the Dnieper with a Damascus road and white as snow muslin, and the shadow went even further into the thicket of pine trees.
An oak tree floated in the middle of the Dnieper. Two boys are sitting in front; black Cossack hats are askew, and under the oars, as if fire from a flint, splashes fly in all directions.
Why don't the Cossacks sing? They don’t talk about how priests are already walking around Ukraine and rebaptizing the Cossack people into Catholics; nor about how the horde fought for two days at Salt Lake. How can they sing, how can they talk about dashing deeds: their master Danilo became thoughtful, and the sleeve of his crimson jacket dropped from the oak tree and drew water; Their lady Katerina quietly rocks the child and does not take her eyes off him, and water falls like gray dust onto the elegant cloth that is not covered with linen.
It’s a pleasure to look from the middle of the Dnieper at high mountains, wide meadows, and green forests! Those mountains are not mountains: they have no soles, below them, as above, there is a sharp peak, and below them and above them there is a high sky. Those forests that stand on the hills are not forests: they are hairs growing on the shaggy head of a forest grandfather. Under her, a beard is washed in water, and under the beard and above the hair there is a high sky. Those meadows are not meadows: they are a green belt, girding the round sky in the middle, and the moon walks in the upper half and in the lower half.
Mr. Danilo does not look around, he looks at his young wife.
What, my young wife, my golden Katerina, has fallen into sadness?
I didn’t go into sadness, my lord Danilo! I was frightened by the wonderful stories about the sorcerer. They say that he was born so scary... and none of the children wanted to play with him from childhood. Listen, Mr. Danilo, how scary they say: that it was as if he was imagining everything, that everyone was laughing at him. If he met some person in the dark evening, he immediately imagined that he was opening his mouth and showing his teeth. And the next day they found that man dead. It was wonderful for me, I was scared when I listened to these stories,” said Katerina, taking out a handkerchief and wiping the face of the child sleeping in her arms with it. She embroidered leaves and berries on the scarf with red silk.
Pan Danilo didn’t say a word and began to look at the dark side, where far from behind the forest an earthen rampart loomed black and an old castle rose from behind the rampart. Three wrinkles were cut out at once above the eyebrows; his left hand stroked the youthful mustache.
It’s not so scary that he’s a sorcerer, he said, but it’s scary that he’s an unkind guest. What kind of whim did he have to drag himself here? I heard that the Poles want to build some kind of fortress to cut off our road to the Cossacks. Let it be true... I will scatter the devil's nest if there is a rumor that he has some kind of stash. I will burn the old sorcerer, so that the crows will have nothing to peck at. However, I think he is not without gold and all sorts of good things. That's where the devil lives! If he has gold... We will now sail past the crosses - this is a cemetery! here his unclean grandfathers rot. They say that they were all ready to sell themselves to Satan for money with their souls and tattered zhupans. If he definitely has gold, then there’s no point in delaying now: it’s not always possible to get it in war...
I know what you're up to. Nothing bodes well for me meeting him. But you breathe so heavily, you look so sternly, your eyes are drawn down with such gloomy eyebrows!..
Shut up, grandma! - Danilo said with heart. - Whoever contacts you will become a woman himself. Boy, give me some fire in the cradle! - Here he turned to one of the rowers, who, having knocked out hot ash from his cradle, began to transfer it to his master’s cradle. - He's scaring me with a sorcerer! - continued Mr. Danilo. - Kozak, thank God, is not afraid of devils or priests. It would be of much use if we began to obey our wives. Isn't that right, guys? our wife is a cradle and a sharp saber!
Katerina fell silent, lowering her eyes into the sleepy water; and the wind rippled the water, and the whole Dnieper turned silver, like wolf fur in the middle of the night.
The oak turned and began to stick to the wooded shore. A cemetery could be seen on the shore: old crosses crowded into a heap. Neither viburnum grows among them, nor the grass turns green, only the month warms them from the heavenly heights.
Do you guys hear the screams? Someone is calling us for help! - said Pan Danilo, turning to his rowers.
“We hear screams, and it seems from the other side,” the boys said at once, pointing to the cemetery.
But everything was quiet. The boat turned and began to go around the protruding shore. Suddenly the rowers lowered their oars and fixed their eyes motionlessly. Pan Danilo also stopped: fear and cold cut through the Cossack veins.
The cross on the grave began to shake, and a dried-up corpse quietly rose from it. Belt-length beard; the claws on the fingers are long, even longer than the fingers themselves. He quietly raised his hands up. His face began to tremble and contort. He apparently endured terrible torment. “It’s stuffy for me! stuffy!” - he moaned in a wild, inhuman voice. His voice, like a knife, scratched his heart, and the dead man suddenly went underground. Another cross shook, and again a dead man came out, even more terrible, even taller than before; all overgrown, knee-length beard and even longer bone claws. He shouted even more wildly: “It’s stuffy for me!” - and went underground. The third cross shook, the third dead man rose. It seemed that only the bones rose high above the ground. Beard right to the heels; fingers with long claws stuck into the ground. He terribly stretched his hands up, as if he wanted to get the month, and screamed as if someone had begun to saw through his yellow bones...
Terrible revenge. Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol. I The end of Kyiv is noisy and thundering: Captain Gorobets celebrates the wedding of his son. Many people came to visit Yesaul. In the old days they loved to eat well, they loved to drink even better, and even better they loved to have fun. The Cossack Mikitka also arrived on his bay horse straight from a riotous drinking binge from the Pereshlyaya field, where he fed red wine to the royal nobles for seven days and seven nights. The captain's named brother, Danilo Burulbash, also arrived from the other bank of the Dnieper, where, between two mountains, there was his farm, with his young wife Katerina and his one-year-old son. The guests marveled at Mrs. Katerina’s white face, black eyebrows like German velvet, elegant cloth and underwear made of blue half-slip, boots with silver horseshoes; but they were even more surprised that the old father did not come with her. He lived in the Trans-Dnieper region for only a year, but for twenty-one he disappeared without a trace and returned to his daughter when she had already married and given birth to a son. He would probably tell a lot of wonderful things. How can I not tell you, having been in a foreign land for so long! Everything is wrong there: the people are not the same, and there are no churches of Christ... But he did not come. The guests were served Varenukha with raisins and plums and Korowai on a large platter. The musicians began to work on its underside, baked together with the money, and, becoming silent for a while, placed cymbals, violins and tambourines near them. Meanwhile, the young women and girls, having wiped themselves with embroidered scarves, stepped out again from their ranks; and the boys, clutching their sides, proudly looking around, were ready to rush towards them - when the old captain brought out two icons to bless the young. He got those icons from the honest schema-monk, Elder Bartholomew. Their utensils are not rich, neither silver nor gold burns, but no evil spirit will dare to touch the one who has them in the house. Raising the icons upward, the esaul was preparing to say a short prayer... when suddenly the children playing on the ground screamed, frightened, and after them the people retreated, and everyone pointed with fear at the Cossack standing in the middle of them. No one knew who he was. But he had already danced to the glory of a Cossack and had already managed to make the crowd surrounding him laugh. When the captain raised the icons, suddenly his whole face changed: his nose grew and bent to one side, instead of brown eyes, green eyes jumped, his lips turned blue, his chin trembled and became sharpened like a spear, a fang ran out of his mouth, a hump rose from behind his head, and the Cossack became an old man. "It is he! It’s him!” they shouted in the crowd, pressing tightly against each other. “The sorcerer has appeared again!” the mothers shouted, grabbing their children in their arms. The captain stepped forward majestically and dignifiedly and said in a loud voice, holding up the icons in front of him: “Get lost, image of Satan, there is no place for you here!” and with a hiss and clicking his teeth like a wolf, the wonderful old man disappeared. They went, they went and made a noise like the sea in bad weather, talk and speeches among the people. “What kind of sorcerer is this?” asked young and unprecedented people. “There will be trouble!” the old people said, turning their heads. And everywhere, throughout the wide courtyard of Yesaul, they began to gather in groups and listen to stories about the wonderful sorcerer. But almost everyone said different things, and probably no one could tell about him. A barrel of honey was rolled out into the yard and quite a few buckets of walnut wine were placed. Everything was cheerful again. The musicians thundered; girls, young women, dashing Cossacks, in bright zhupans, rushed away. The ninety- and one-hundred-year-old old people, having had a good time, began to dance for themselves, remembering the years that had not been lost in vain. They feasted until late at night, and they feasted in a way that they no longer feast. The guests began to disperse, but few wandered back home: many remained to spend the night with the captain in the wide courtyard; and even more Cossacks fell asleep on their own, uninvited, under benches, on the floor, near the horse, near the bite; Where the Cossack head staggers from drunkenness, there he lies and snores for all of Kyiv to hear. II Shines quietly throughout the world. Then the month appeared from behind the mountain. It was as if he had covered the mountainous bank of the Dnieper with expensive damask and white as snow muslin, and the shadow went even further into the thicket of pine trees. An oak tree floated in the middle of the Dnieper. Two boys are sitting in front; black Cossack hats are askew, and under the oars, as if fire from a flint, splashes fly in all directions. Why don't the Cossacks sing? They don’t talk about how priests are already walking around the Ukraine and rebaptizing the Cossack people into Catholics; nor about how the horde fought for two days at Salt Lake. How can they sing, how can they talk about dashing deeds: their master Danilo became thoughtful, and the sleeve of his crimson jacket dropped from the oak tree and drew water; Their lady Katerina quietly rocks the child and does not take her eyes off him, and water falls like gray dust onto the elegant cloth that is not covered with linen. It’s a pleasure to look from the middle of the Dnieper at high mountains, wide meadows, and green forests! Those mountains are not mountains: they have no soles, below them, as above, there is a sharp peak, and below them and above them there is a high sky. Those forests that stand on the hills are not forests: they are hairs growing on the shaggy head of a forest grandfather. Under her the beard is washed in water, and under the beard and above the hair there is a high sky. Those meadows are not meadows: they are a green belt, girding the round sky in the middle, and the moon walks in the upper half and in the lower half. Mr. Danilo does not look around, he looks at his young wife. “What, my young wife, my golden Katerina, has fallen into sadness?” - “I have not fallen into sadness, my lord, Danilo! I was frightened by the wonderful stories about the sorcerer. They say that he was born so scary... and none of the children wanted to play with him from childhood. Listen, Mr. Danilo, how scary they say: that it was as if he was imagining everything, that everyone was laughing at him. If he met some person in the dark evening, he immediately imagined that he was opening his mouth and showing his teeth. And the next day they found that man dead. It was wonderful for me, I was scared when I listened to these stories,” said Katerina, taking out a handkerchief and wiping the face of the child sleeping in her arms with it. She embroidered leaves and berries on the scarf with red silk. Pan Danilo didn’t say a word, and began to look at the dark side, where, far from behind the forest, an earthen rampart loomed black, and an old castle rose from behind the rampart. Three wrinkles were cut out at once above the eyebrows; his left hand stroked the youthful mustache. “It’s not so scary that he’s a sorcerer,” he said, “but what’s scary is that he’s an unkind guest.” What kind of whim did he have to drag himself here? I heard that the Poles want to build some kind of fortress to cut off our road to the Cossacks. Let it be true... I will scatter the devil's nest if there is a rumor that he has some kind of stash. I will burn the old sorcerer, so that the crows will have nothing to peck at. However, I think he is not without gold and all sorts of good things. That's where the devil lives! If he has gold... We will now sail past the crosses - this is a cemetery! here his unclean grandfathers rot. They say that they were all ready to sell themselves to Satan for money with their souls and tattered zhupans. If he definitely has gold, then there’s no point in delaying now: it’s not always possible to get it in war...” “I know what you’re up to. Nothing bodes well for me meeting him. But you breathe so heavily, you look so sternly, your eyes are so gloomily drawn up with your eyebrows!..” “Be silent, woman!” Danilo said with his heart. “Whoever contacts you will become a woman himself. Boy, give me some fire in the cradle!” Then he turned to one of the oarsmen, who, having knocked out hot ash from his cradle, began to transfer it to his master’s cradle. “He scares me of a sorcerer!” continued Mr. Danilo. “The Cossack, thank God, is not afraid of devils or priests. It would be of much use if we began to obey our wives. Isn't that right, guys? our wife is a cradle, and a sharp saber!” Katerina fell silent, lowering her eyes into the sleepy water; and the wind rippled the water, and the entire Dnieper turned silver like wolf fur in the middle of the night. The oak turned and began to stick to the wooded shore. A cemetery could be seen on the shore: old crosses crowded into a heap. Neither viburnum grows among them, nor the grass turns green, only the month warms them from the heavenly heights. “Do you guys hear the screams? Someone is calling us for help!” said Pan Danilo, turning to his rowers. “We hear screams, and it seems from the other side,” the boys said at once, pointing to the cemetery. But everything became quiet. The boat turned and began to go around the protruding shore. Suddenly the rowers lowered their oars and fixed their eyes motionlessly. Pan Danilo also stopped: fear and cold cut through the Cossack veins. The cross on the grave began to shake, and a dried-up corpse quietly rose from it. Belt-length beard; The claws on the fingers are long, even longer than the fingers themselves. He quietly raised his hands up. His face began to tremble and contort. He apparently endured terrible torment. “It’s stuffy for me!” It’s stuffy!” he moaned in a wild, inhuman voice. His voice, like a knife, scratched his heart, and the dead man suddenly went underground. Another cross shook, and again a dead man came out, even more terrible, even taller than before; all overgrown; knee-length beard and even longer bone claws. He shouted even more wildly: “It’s stuffy for me!” and went underground. The third cross shook, the third dead man rose. It seemed that only the bones rose high above the ground. Beard right to the heels; fingers with long claws stuck into the ground. He terribly stretched out his hands upward, as if he wanted to reach the month, and screamed as if someone had begun to saw through his yellow bones... The child, sleeping in Katerina’s arms, screamed and woke up. The lady herself screamed. The rowers dropped their hats into the Dnieper. The gentleman himself shuddered. Everything suddenly disappeared, as if it had never happened; however, the boys did not take up the oars for a long time. Burulbash looked carefully at his young wife, who was rocking a screaming child in her arms in fear; pressed her to his heart and kissed her forehead. “Don’t be scared, Katerina!” Look: there’s nothing!” he said, pointing around. “This sorcerer wants to frighten people so that no one gets to his unclean nest. He'll only scare some people with this! Give me your son here in my arms!” At this word, Pan Danilo raised his son up and brought it to his lips: “What, Ivan, are you not afraid of sorcerers?” No, tell me, dad, I’m a Cossack. Come on, stop crying! We'll come home! When we get home, my mother will feed me porridge; He will put you to sleep in the cradle and sing: Lyuli, Lyuli, Lyuli! Lyuli, son, Lyuli! Grow up, grow into fun! Glory to the Cossacks, To the Vorozhenki's punishment! “Listen, Katerina, it seems to me that your father does not want to live in harmony with us. He arrived gloomy, stern, as if he was angry... Well, he’s dissatisfied, so why come. I didn’t want to drink to the Cossack will! I didn’t rock the baby in my arms! At first I wanted to believe him everything that was in my heart, but something didn’t take me, and my speech stuttered. No, he doesn’t have a Cossack heart! Cossack hearts, when they meet where, how will they not beat out of their chests towards each other! What, my lads, are you going to shore soon? Well, I'll give you new hats. I will give you, Stetsko, lined with velvet and gold. I took it off along with the Tatar’s head. I got his entire projectile; I released only his soul into freedom. Well, dock! Here, Ivan, we have arrived, and you are still crying! Take it, Katerina!” Everyone came out. A thatched roof appeared from behind the mountain; then the grandfather's mansion of Pan Danil. Behind them there is still a mountain, and there is already a field, and even if you walk a hundred miles, you will not find a single Cossack. III The farm of Pan Danil between two mountains in a narrow valley running down to the Dnieper. His mansions are low: the hut looks like that of ordinary Cossacks, and it has one small room; but there is room for him, and his wife, and the old servant, and ten chosen young men. There are oak shelves around the walls at the top. There are a lot of bowls and pots for eating on them. Among them there are silver cups and glasses set in gold, donated and won in war. Expensive muskets, sabers, squeaks, and spears hang below. Willingly or unwillingly, they moved from the Tatars, Turks and Poles; quite a few, but they are memorized. Looking at them, Pan Danilo seemed to remember his contractions by the icons. Under the wall, below, there are oak, smoothly hewn benches. Near them, in front of the couch, hangs a cradle on ropes threaded into a ring screwed to the ceiling. In the entire room the floor is smooth and greased with clay. Master Danilo sleeps on the benches with his wife. There is an old maid on the couch. A small child is amused and lulled into sleep in a cradle. The fellows spend the night sleeping on the floor. But it is better for a Cossack to sleep on smooth ground with a clear sky. He doesn't need a down jacket or a feather bed. He puts fresh hay under his head and stretches out freely on the grass. It is fun for him to wake up in the middle of the night, look at the high, star-studded sky and shiver from the night cold, which brought freshness to the Cossack bones. Stretching and muttering through his sleep, he lights the cradle and wraps himself tighter in the warm casing. Burulbash woke up not early after yesterday's fun; and waking up, he sat down in the corner on a bench and began to sharpen the new Turkish saber he had exchanged; and Mrs. Katerina began to embroider a silk towel in gold. Suddenly Katerina’s father came in, angry, frowning, with an overseas cradle in his teeth, approached his daughter and sternly began to question her: what was the reason for her returning home so late. “About these matters, father-in-law, don’t ask her, but me!” It is not the wife, but the husband who answers. This is how it is already with us, don’t be angry!” said Danilo, without leaving his work. “Maybe this doesn’t happen in other infidel lands - I don’t know.” Color appeared on the father-in-law's stern face and his eyes flashed wildly. “Who, if not the father, should look after his daughter!” he muttered to himself. “Well, I’m asking you: where were you hanging around until late at night?” “But this is the case, dear father-in-law! To this I will tell you that I have long since become one of those people whom women swaddle. I know how to sit on a horse. I can hold a sharp saber in my hands. I know something else... I know how to not give anyone an answer for what I do.” “I see, Danilo, I know you want a quarrel!” Whoever is hiding probably has an evil deed on his mind.” “Think to yourself what you want,” said Danilo: “I think to myself too. Thank God, I haven’t been involved in any dishonorable business yet; always stood for the Orthodox faith and fatherland; not like other tramps, they wander around, God knows where, when the Orthodox are fighting to the death, and then they come to clean up the crops that were not sown by them. They don’t even look like Uniates: they won’t look into God’s church. Such people should be interrogated in order to find out where they are hanging around.” “Eh, Cossack!” Do you know... I’m a bad shooter: in just a hundred fathoms my bullet pierces the heart. “I chop unenviably: what remains from a person are pieces smaller than grains, from which they cook porridge.” “I’m ready,” said Pan Danilo, briskly crossing his saber in the air, as if he knew what he had sharpened it for. “Danilo!” Katerina screamed loudly, grabbing his hand and hanging on it: “Remember, you madman, look at whom you are raising your hand!” Dad, your hair is as white as snow, and you are flushed like a foolish lad!” “Wife!” Pan Danilo shouted menacingly: “You know, I don’t like this.” Mind your womanly business!’ The sabers made a terrible sound; iron chopped iron, and the Cossacks showered themselves with sparks, like dust. Katerina went into a special room crying, threw herself into bed and covered her ears so as not to hear the saber blows. But the Cossacks did not fight so badly that their blows could be muffled. Her heart wanted to break into pieces. All over her body she heard sounds passing through: knock, knock. “No, I can’t stand it, I can’t stand it... Maybe scarlet blood is already gushing out of the white body. Maybe now my dear is exhausted; and I’m lying here!’ And all pale, barely catching her breath, she entered the hut. The Cossacks fought evenly and fearfully. Neither one nor the other prevails. Here comes Katerina's father - Pan Danilo is served. Pan Danilo comes - the stern father moves in, and again on an equal footing. Boiling. Swung... wow! the sabers are ringing... and, rattling, the blades fly off to the side. “Thank you, God!” said Katerina and screamed again when she saw that the Cossacks took up their muskets. We adjusted the flints and cocked the hammers. Pan Danilo fired, but missed. The father took aim... He is old; he does not see as vigilantly as the young man, but his hand does not tremble. The shot rang out... Pan Danilo staggered. Scarlet blood stained the left sleeve of the Cossack zhupan. “No!” he shouted, “I won’t sell myself so cheaply.” Not the left hand, but the right chieftain. I have a Turkish pistol hanging on my wall: it has never cheated on me in my entire life. Get off the wall, old comrade! show your friend a favor!’ Danilo extended his hand. “Danilo!” Katerina screamed in despair, grabbing his hands and throwing herself at his feet: “I’m not praying for myself. I have only one end: that unworthy wife who lives after her husband; The Dnieper, the cold Dnieper will be my grave... But look at your son, Danilo, look at your son! Who will warm the poor child? Who will take care of him? Who will teach him to fly on a black horse, fight for his will and faith, drink and walk like a Cossack? Get lost, my son, get lost! Your father doesn't want to know you! Look how he turns away his face. ABOUT! I know you now! you are a beast, not a man! You have the heart of a wolf, and the soul of a crafty reptile. I thought that you had a drop of pity, that human feeling was burning in your stone body. I was terribly deceived. This will bring you joy. Your bones will begin to dance in the grave with joy when they hear how the wicked beasts of the Poles will throw your son into the flames, when your son will scream under knives and sprinkles. Oh, I know you! You would be glad to get up from the coffin and fan the fire swirling under him with your hat! “ “Wait, Katerina!” Go, my beloved Ivan, I will kiss you! No, my child, no one will touch your hair. You will grow up to be the glory of your homeland; You will fly like a whirlwind in front of the Cossacks, with a velvet cap on your head, with a sharp saber in your hand. Give me your hand, father! Let's forget what happened between us. What I did wrong in front of you, I apologize. Why don’t you give your hand?” Danilo said to Katerina’s father, who stood in one place, expressing neither anger nor reconciliation on his face. “Father!” Katerina cried, hugging and kissing him: “Don’t be unforgiving, forgive Danil: he won’t upset you anymore!” “Only for you, my daughter, I forgive!” he answered, kissing her and flashing his strange eyes. Katerina shuddered a little: both the kiss and the strange sparkle of the eyes seemed wonderful to her. She leaned her elbows on the table on which Mr. Danilo was bandaging his wounded hand, thinking about what he had done badly and not like a Cossack, asking for forgiveness without being guilty of anything. IV The day flashed, but not sunny: the sky was gloomy and a thin rain fell on the fields, on the forests, on the wide Dnieper. Mrs. Katerina woke up, but not joyful: her eyes were teary, and she was all vague and restless. “My dear husband, dear husband, I had a wonderful dream!” “What dream, my dear Mrs. Katerina?” “I dreamed, wonderfully, really, and so vividly, as if in reality, I dreamed that my father was that same freak , whom we saw at the captain's house. But please, don't believe the dream. What nonsense can you imagine! It was as if I was standing in front of him, trembling all over, afraid, and my veins groaned from his every word. If you had heard what he said...” “What did he say, my golden Katerina?” “He said: look at me, Katerina, I’m good!” People say in vain that I am stupid. I will be a glorious husband to you. Look how I look with my eyes! Then he turned his fiery eyes on me, I screamed and woke up.” “Yes, dreams tell a lot of truth. However, do you know that behind the mountain it’s not so calm? Almost the Poles began to peek out again. Gorobets sent me to tell me not to sleep. In vain only he cares; I don't sleep anyway. My boys cut down twelve fences that night. We will treat the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth with lead plums, and the gentry will dance from the batogs.” “Does your father know about this?” “Your father is sitting on my neck!” I still can't figure it out. It is true that he committed many sins in a foreign land. Well, in fact, for the reason: he lives for about a month and at least once had fun, like a good Cossack! I didn't want to drink honey! Do you hear, Katerina, I didn’t want to drink the mead that I cowardly got from the Brestov Jews. Hey, lad!” shouted Mr. Danilo. “Run, little one, to the cellar and bring some Jewish honey!” He doesn’t even drink burners! What an abyss! It seems to me, Mrs. Katerina, that he doesn’t believe in the Lord Christ either. A! “What do you think?” “God knows what you’re saying, Mr. Danilo!” “Wonderful, lady!” Danilo continued, accepting a clay mug from the Cossack: “Filthy Catholics are even greedy for vodka; Only the Turks don’t drink. What, Stetsko, did you drink a lot of honey in the basement?” “I just tried it, sir!” “You’re lying, son of a dog!” look how the flies attacked the mustache! I can see in my eyes that half a bucket was enough. Eh, Cossacks! what a dashing people! Everything is ready for your comrade, but he will dry the intoxicating stuff himself. I, Mrs. Katerina, have been drunk for a long time. Huh?” “That’s a long time ago!” and in the past...” “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, I won’t drink another mug!” And here comes the Turkish abbot, breaking through the door!” he said through his teeth, seeing his father-in-law bending down to enter the door. “What is this, my daughter!” said the father, taking off his hat from his head and adjusting the belt on which hung a saber with wonderful stones: “the sun is already high, and your lunch is not ready.” “Dinner is ready, sir, let’s put it on now!” “Take out the pot of dumplings!” said Mrs. Katerina to the old servant who was wiping the wooden dishes. “Wait, I’d better take it out myself,” Katerina continued: “And you call the boys.” Everyone sat down on the floor in a circle: Mr. Father opposite the corner, on the left hand Mr. Danilo, on the right hand Mr. Katerina and ten most faithful young men in blue and yellow zhupans. “I don’t like these dumplings!” said Mr. Father, having eaten a little and putting down the spoon: “There is no taste!” “I know that you prefer Jewish noodles,” Danilo thought to himself. “Why, father-in-law,” he continued aloud, “are you saying that there is no taste in dumplings?” Badly made, or what? my Katerina makes dumplings in such a way that even the hetman rarely gets to eat them. And there is nothing to disdain about them. This is a Christian dish! All the holy people and saints of God ate dumplings.” Not a word father; Pan Danilo also fell silent. They served fried wild boar with cabbage and plums. “I don’t like pork!” said Katerina’s father, scooping out the cabbage with a spoon. “Why not love pork?” said Danilo. “Only Turks and Jews do not eat pork.” The father frowned even more sternly. The old father ate only one lemishka with milk, and instead of vodka, he drank some black water from the flask that was in his bosom. After dinner, Danilo fell into a good sleep and woke up only around evening. He sat down and began to write letters to the Cossack army; and Mrs. Katerina began to rock the cradle with her foot, sitting on the couch. Pan Danilo is sitting, looking at the writing with his left eye and out the window with his right. And from the window the mountains and the Dnieper sparkle far away. Beyond the Dnieper the forests turn blue. The clearing night sky flashes from above; but it is not the distant sky or the blue forest that Pan Danilo admires: he looks at the protruding cape, on which the old castle looms. It seemed to him as if a narrow window in the castle flashed with fire. But everything is quiet. It probably seemed that way to him. You can only hear the dull roar of the Dnieper below and from three sides, one after another, the blows of instantly awakened waves. He doesn't rebel. He, like an old man, grumbles and grumbles; everything is not nice to him; everything changed around him; he quietly quarrels with the coastal mountains, forests, meadows and brings a complaint against them to the Black Sea. A boat appeared black along the wide Dnieper and something seemed to flash in the castle again. Danilo whistled quietly, and the faithful lad ran out to the whistle. “Take a sharp saber and a rifle with you, Stetsko, and follow me!” “Are you coming?” asked Mrs. Katerina. “I’m coming, wife.” We need to look at all the places to see if everything is in order.” “However, I’m scared to be alone. I'm getting sleepy. What if I dream the same thing? I’m not even sure if it was really a dream, it happened so vividly.” “The old woman stays with you; and the Cossacks are sleeping in the hallway and in the yard!’ “The old woman is already sleeping, but the Cossacks somehow can’t believe it. Listen, Pan Danilo, lock me in the room, and take the key with you. Then I won’t be so scared; and let the Cossacks lie down in front of the doors.” “So be it!” said Danilo, wiping the dust off the rifle and pouring gunpowder onto the shelf. Faithful Stetsko was already standing dressed in all his Cossack harness. Danilo put on his smoosh hat, closed the window, bolted the door, locked it, and quietly walked out of the yard between his sleeping Cossacks into the mountains. The sky has almost completely cleared. A fresh wind blew a little from the Dnieper. If the moaning of a seagull had not been heard from afar, everything would have seemed numb. But then I thought I heard a rustling sound... Burulbash and his faithful servant quietly hid behind the thorn bushes that covered the cut-down tree. Someone in a red jacket, with two pistols and a saber at his side, was descending from the mountain. “This is father-in-law!” said Mr. Danilo, looking at him from behind a bush. “Why and where should he go at this time? Stetsko! Don’t yawn, look with both eyes where Father will take the road.” The man in the red zhupan went down to the very shore and turned towards the protruding cape. "A! “That’s where!” said Mr. Danilo. “What, Stetsko, he just dragged himself to the sorcerer’s hollow.” “Yes, that’s right, not to another place, Mr. Danilo!” otherwise we would have seen him on the other side. But he disappeared near the castle.” “Wait, let’s get out, and then follow the tracks.” There's something hiding here. No, Katerina, I told you that your father is an unkind man; He didn’t do everything like an Orthodox Christian.” Pan Danilo and his faithful lad had already glimpsed on the protruding bank. Now they are no longer visible. The dense forest surrounding the castle hid them. The upper window lit up quietly. The Cossacks are standing below and thinking about how to get in. Neither gates nor doors are visible. There is probably a way from the yard; but how to enter there? From a distance you can hear chains rattling and dogs running. “What a long time I’ve been thinking!” said Pan Danilo, seeing a tall oak tree in front of the window: “Stay here, little one!” I will climb the oak tree; You can look straight out the window from it.” Then he took off his belt, threw the saber down so that it wouldn’t ring, and, grabbing the branches, climbed up. The window was still glowing. Sitting down on a branch, right next to the window, he grabbed the tree with his hand, and looked: there was not even a candle in the room, but it was shining. There are wonderful signs on the walls. There are weapons hanging, but everything is strange: neither the Turks, nor the Crimeans, nor the Poles, nor the Christians, nor the glorious Swedish people carry such things. Bats flash back and forth under the ceiling, and their shadow flickers along the walls, along the doors, along the platform. The door opened without a creak. Someone in a red jacket comes in and goes straight to the table covered with a white tablecloth. This is him, this is the father-in-law! Pan Danilo sank a little lower and pressed himself tighter to the tree. But he has no time to see whether anyone is looking through the window or not. He arrived gloomy, out of sorts, pulled the tablecloth off the table - and suddenly a transparent blue light quietly spread throughout the room. Only the unmixed waves of the former pale gold shimmered, dived, as if in a blue sea, and stretched out in layers, as if on marble. Then he put a pot on the table and began throwing some herbs into it. Pan Danilo began to peer closely and no longer noticed the red zhupan on him; instead, he wore wide trousers, such as the Turks wear; pistols in the belt; on his head is some kind of wonderful hat, covered all over with not Russian or Polish writing. He looked into the face - and the face began to change: the nose stretched out and hung over the lips; the mouth rang to the ears in a minute; the tooth peeked out of his mouth, bent to the side, and the same sorcerer who appeared at the wedding of the captain stood in front of him. “Your dream is true, Katerina!” thought Burulbash. The sorcerer began to walk around the table, the signs began to change faster on the wall, and the bats flew faster down and up, back and forth. The blue light became less and less frequent and seemed to go out completely. And the little room was already lit up with a thin pink light. It seemed as if with a quiet ringing a wonderful light was spreading into all corners and suddenly disappeared and there was darkness. All that could be heard was a noise, as if the wind was playing in the quiet hour of the evening, circling across the water mirror, bending the silver willows even lower into the water. And it seemed to Pan Danila that the moon was shining in the little room, the stars were walking, the dark blue sky was flickering vaguely, and the cold of the night air smelled even in his face. And it seemed to Pan Danila (here he began to feel his mustache to see if he was sleeping) that it was no longer the sky in the little room, but his own bedchamber: his Tatar and Turkish sabers were hanging on the wall; there are shelves near the walls, household dishes and utensils on the shelves; there is bread and salt on the table; a cradle hangs... but instead of images, scary faces look out; on the couch... but the thickening fog covered everything, and it became dark again, and again, with a wonderful ringing, the whole room was illuminated with pink light, and again the sorcerer stood motionless in his wonderful turban. The sounds became stronger and thicker, the thin pink light became brighter, and something white, like a cloud, blew in the middle of the hut; and it seems to Pan Danila that the cloud is not a cloud, but a woman is standing; Just what is it made of: is it woven from thin air? Why does she stand and not touch the ground, and not leaning on anything, and pink light shines through her and signs flash on the wall? Here she somehow moved her transparent head: her pale blue eyes glowed quietly; her hair curls and falls over her shoulders like light gray fog; the lips turn pale red, as if a barely noticeable scarlet light of dawn is pouring through the white-transparent morning sky; eyebrows darken faintly... Ah! This is Katerina! Then Danilo felt that his limbs were fettered; he tried to speak, but his lips moved without sound. The sorcerer stood motionless in his place. “Where have you been?” he asked, and the woman standing in front of him trembled. "ABOUT! Why did you call me?” she moaned quietly. “I was so happy. I was in the very place where I was born and lived for fifteen years. Oh, how nice it is there! How green and fragrant is that meadow where I played as a child: the same wildflowers, and our hut, and the vegetable garden! Oh, how my kind mother hugged me! What love she has in her eyes! She kissed me, kissed my mouth and cheeks, combed my brown braid with a fine comb... Father!” then she fixed her pale eyes on the sorcerer: “Why did you kill my mother!” The sorcerer shook his finger menacingly. “Did I ask you to talk about this?” and the ethereal beauty trembled. “Where is your lady now?” “My lady, Katerina, has now fallen asleep, and I was happy about that, fluttered up and flew. I have long wanted to see my mother. I suddenly became fifteen years old. I became as light as a bird. Why did you call me?” “Do you remember everything that I told you yesterday?” asked the sorcerer so quietly that it was barely possible to hear. "I do remember; but what I wouldn’t give to just forget it. Poor Katerina! She does not know much that her soul knows.” “This is Katerina’s soul,” thought Pan Danilo; but still did not dare to move. “Repent, father!” Isn’t it scary that after every murder of yours the dead rise from their graves?’ “You’re back to your old ways!” the sorcerer interrupted menacingly. “I’ll put my money where my mouth is, I’ll make you do what I want.” Katerina will love me!..” “Oh, you are a monster, not my father!” she moaned. “No, it won’t be your way!” True, you have taken with your unclean spells the power to summon a soul and torment it; but only God can force her to do what he pleases. No, Katerina will never, as long as I remain in her body, decide to do something ungodly. Father, the Last Judgment is near! Even if you weren’t my father, you wouldn’t have forced me to cheat on my faithful husband. Even if my husband had not been faithful and sweet to me, I would not have cheated on him, because God does not love perjured and unfaithful souls.” Then she fixed her pale eyes on the window under which Mr. Danilo was sitting, and stopped motionless. .. “Where are you looking?” Who do you see there?“ shouted the sorcerer; airy Katerina trembled. But Pan Danilo had already been on earth for a long time and was making his way with his faithful Stetsk to his mountains. “It’s scary, scary!” he said to himself, feeling some kind of timidity in the Cossack heart, and soon he passed his yard, where the Cossacks were sleeping just as soundly, except for one, who was sitting on guard and smoking a cradle. The sky was all covered with stars. V “What a good thing you did to wake me up!” said Katerina, wiping her eyes with the embroidered sleeve of her shirt and looking at her husband standing in front of her from head to toe. “What a terrible dream I had!” How hard my chest was breathing! Wow!.. it seemed to me that I was dying...” “What a dream, isn’t it this one?” and Burulbash began to tell his wife everything he had seen. “How did you know this, my husband?” asked Katerina, amazed. “But no, I don’t know much of what you say. No, I did not dream that my father would kill my mother; I didn’t see any dead people or anything. No, Danilo, that's not what you're saying. Oh, how terrible my father is!” “And it’s no wonder that you haven’t seen much. You don't know even a tenth of what the soul knows. Do you know that your father is the Antichrist? Last year, when I was going together with the Poles against the Crimeans (at that time I was still holding the hand of this unfaithful people), the abbot of the Brotherly Monastery told me - he, his wife, a holy man - that the Antichrist has the power to summon the soul of every person; and the soul walks of its own free will when he falls asleep, and flies with the archangels near God’s room. I didn't see your father's face at first. If I had known that you had such a father, I would not have married you; I would have abandoned you and would not have accepted the sin on my soul by intermarrying with the Antichrist tribe.” “Danilo!” said Katerina, covering her face with her hands and sobbing: “Am I guilty of anything before you? Have I cheated on you, my dear husband? What brought about your anger? Did I serve you wrongly? did she say a nasty word when you were tossing and turning tipsy from a great party? Didn’t she give birth to a black-browed son for you?..” “Don’t cry, Katerina, I know you now and I won’t leave you for anything. All sins lie on your father.” “No, don’t call him my father!” He is not my father. God knows, I renounce him, I renounce my father! He is the Antichrist, an apostate! If he disappears, if he drowns, I won’t offer my hand to save him. If he were to dry from the secret grass, I would not give him water to drink. You are my father!“ VI In the deep basement of Master Danil, behind three locks, sits a sorcerer shackled in iron chains; and far away above the Dnieper his demonic castle is burning, and scarlet, like blood, waves slurp and crowd around the ancient walls. It is not for witchcraft and not for ungodly deeds that the sorcerer sits in a deep basement. God is their judge. He is imprisoned for secret betrayal, for conspiring with the enemies of the Orthodox Russian land to sell the Ukrainian people to Catholics and burn down Christian churches. Sullen sorcerer; a thought as black as night is in his head. He only has one day left to live; and tomorrow it’s time to say goodbye to the world. Tomorrow awaits his execution. A not entirely easy execution awaits him: it is still a mercy when they boil him alive in a cauldron, or tear off his sinful skin. The sorcerer is gloomy and hangs his head. Perhaps he is already repenting before the hour of death, but his sins are not such that God will forgive him. At the top in front of him is a narrow window interlaced with iron rods. Rattling his chains, he walked to the window to see if his daughter would pass by. She is meek, not malicious, like a dove, will she have mercy on her father... But there is no one. The road runs below; no one will pass through it. The Dnieper walks below it; he doesn’t care about anyone: he rages, and the prisoner is sad to hear his monotonous noise. Someone appeared along the road - it was a Cossack! and the prisoner sighed heavily. Everything is empty again. Look, someone is descending in the distance... A green kuntush is fluttering... A golden boat is burning on her head... It's her! He leaned even closer to the window. Now he’s getting close... “Katerina!” daughter! have mercy, give alms!..” She is mute, she does not want to listen, she does not even lay an eye on the prison, and has already passed, has already disappeared. Empty all over the world. The Dnieper rustles sadly. Sadness lies in the heart. But does the sorcerer know this sadness? The day is approaching evening. The sun has already set. He is no longer there. It’s already evening: fresh; somewhere an ox is lowing; Sounds are coming from somewhere, probably somewhere people are coming home from work and having fun; A boat flashes along the Dnieper... who cares about the convict! A silver sickle flashed in the sky. Someone is coming from the opposite direction along the road. Difficult to see in the dark. This is Katerina returning. "Daughter! For Christ’s sake, even the ferocious wolf cubs will not tear their mother and daughter, although look at their criminal father!’ She doesn’t listen and goes. “Daughter, for the sake of the unfortunate mother!..” She stopped. “Come accept my last word!” “Why are you calling me, apostate? Don't call me daughter! There is no relationship between us. What do you want from me for the sake of my unfortunate mother?” “Katerina! The end is close to me, I know, your husband wants to tie me to a mare’s tail and send me across the field, and maybe he will even invent a most terrible execution...” “Is there really an execution in the world equal to your sins? Wait for her; no one will ask for you." “Katerina!” It’s not execution that scares me, but torment in the next world... You are innocent, Katerina, your soul will fly in heaven near God; and the soul of your apostate father will burn in eternal fire, and that fire will never go out: it will flare up stronger and stronger; “No one will drop a drop of dew, nor will the wind smell...” “I have no power to diminish this execution,” said Katerina, turning away. “Katerina!” stand by one word: you can save my soul. You don’t yet know how kind and merciful God is. Have you heard about the Apostle Paul, what a sinful man he was, but then he repented and became a saint.” “What can I do to save your soul!” said Katerina: “Should I, a weak woman, think about this!” “If I managed to get out of here, I would throw everything away. I will repent: I will go to the caves, put a stiff hair shirt on my body, and pray to God day and night. Not only modest, I won’t put fish in my mouth! I won’t put my clothes on when I go to sleep! and I will keep praying, keep praying! And when God’s mercy does not remove even a hundredth part of my sins, I will bury myself up to my neck in the ground, or wall myself up in a stone wall; I will take neither food nor drink, and I will die; and I will give all my goods to the monks, so that for forty days and forty nights they will hold a memorial service for me.” Katerina thought. “Although I will unlock it, I will not unchain your chains.” “I’m not afraid of chains,” he said. “Are you saying that they shackled my hands and feet? No, I put fog in their eyes and, instead of a hand, I held out a dry tree. Here I am, look, I don’t have a single chain on me now!” he said, going out into the middle. “I wouldn’t be afraid of these walls and would walk through them, but your husband doesn’t even know what kind of walls these are.” They were built by the holy schema-monk, and no evil spirit can take the convict out of here without unlocking it with the same key with which the saint locked his cell. “I, an unheard-of sinner, will dig the same cell for myself when I am released.” “Listen, I’ll let you out; “But what if you’re deceiving me?” said Katerina, stopping in front of the door: “and, instead of repenting, will you again become a brother to the devil?” “No, Katerina, I don’t have long to live anymore. My end is near without execution. Do you really think that I will betray myself to eternal torment?“ The locks rattled. "Goodbye! God bless you, my child!” said the sorcerer, kissing her. “Don’t touch me, unheard-of sinner, go away quickly!..” said Katerina; but he was no longer there. “I let him out,” she said, frightened and wildly looking around the walls. “What will I answer to my husband now? I'm missing. Now all I have to do is bury myself in a grave alive! “And bursting into tears, she almost fell on the stump on which the convict was sitting. “But I saved my soul,” she said quietly. “I did a godly deed. But my husband... I deceived him for the first time. Oh, how scary, how difficult it will be for me to tell a lie in front of him. Someone's coming! It is he! husband!“ she screamed desperately and fell to the ground unconscious. VII “It’s me, my own daughter!” It’s me, my dear!” Katerina heard, waking up, and saw the old servant in front of her. The woman, leaning over, seemed to be whispering something, and stretching out her withered hand over her, sprinkled her with cold water. “Where am I?” said Katerina, getting up and looking around. “The Dnieper is rustling in front of me, the mountains are behind me... where did you lead me, woman!” “I didn’t lead you, but brought you out; carried me out of the stuffy basement in my arms. I locked it with a key so that you wouldn’t get anything from Mr. Danil.” “Where is the key?” said Katerina, looking at her belt. "I do not see him". “Your husband untied him to look at the sorcerer, my child.” “Look?.. Baba, I’m missing!” Katerina screamed. “May God have mercy on us from this, my child!” Just be quiet, my lady, no one will know anything!’ “He ran away, damned Antichrist!” Did you hear, Katerina, he ran away?” said Pan Danilo, approaching his wife. The eyes were throwing fire; the saber, ringing, shook at his side. The wife died. “Did someone let him out, my dear husband?” she said, trembling. “I released it, it’s your truth; but the devil released him. Look, instead of it, the log is forged in iron. God made it so that the devil is not afraid of the Cossack paws! If only one of my Cossacks had thought about this in his head, and I would have found out... I wouldn’t even have found him an execution!” “What if I?...” Katerina involuntarily said and stopped in fear. “If you had taken it into your head, then you wouldn’t be my wife.” I would then sew you into a sack and drown you in the very middle of the Dnieper!..” Katerina’s spirit took over, and it seemed to her that the hair began to separate on her head. VIII On the border road, in a tavern, the Poles have gathered and have been feasting for two days. Something is not enough for all the bastards. They probably agreed on some kind of raid: some had muskets; the spurs clink; sabers rattle. The gentlemen are having fun and boasting, talking about their unprecedented deeds, mocking Orthodoxy, calling the Ukrainian people their slaves and twirling their mustaches importantly, and with their heads raised, they are lounging on benches. The princes are with them. Only their priest is like them: and in appearance he doesn’t even look like a Christian priest. He drinks and walks with them and speaks strange speeches with his wicked tongue. The servants are in no way inferior to them: they have thrown back the sleeves of their torn zhupans and are playing trump cards, as if it were something worthwhile. They play cards, hitting each other on the nose with cards. They took other people's wives with them. Screaming, fighting!.. The gentlemen go berserk and do things: they grab the Jew by the beard, paint a cross on his wicked forehead; They shoot the women with blank charges and dance the Krakowiak with their wicked priest. There has never been such a temptation on Russian soil and from the Tatars. Apparently, God has already determined for her to endure such shame for her sins! In the midst of the general sodomy, you can hear people talking about the Trans-Dnieper farm of Pan Danil, about his beautiful wife... This gang has not gathered for a good cause! IX Pan Danilo sits at the table in his little room, leaning on his elbow, and thinks. Mrs. Katerina is sitting on the couch and singing a song. “I’m sad for some reason, my wife!” said Mr. Danilo. “And my head hurts, and my heart hurts. It's kind of hard for me! Apparently, my death is already walking somewhere nearby.” “Oh, my beloved husband! put your head on me! Why do you entertain such dark thoughts to yourself,” thought Katerina, but did not dare to say. It was bitter for her, guilty of her head, to accept man's caresses. “Listen, my wife!” said Danilo: “don’t leave your son when I’m gone. There will be no happiness for you from God if you abandon him, neither in this nor in this world. It will be hard for my bones to rot in the damp earth; and it will be even harder for my soul.” “What are you saying, my husband! weren't you the one who mocked us, weak wives? and now you yourself sound like a weak wife. You still have a long time to live." “No, Katerina, my soul senses imminent death. Something is becoming sad in the world. Hard times are coming. Oh, I remember, I remember the years; They probably won’t come back! He was still alive, honor and glory to our army, old Konashevich! as if Cossack regiments are now passing before my eyes! - It was a golden time, Katerina! - The old hetman was sitting on a black horse. The mace glittered in his hand; Serdyuki around; the red sea of the Cossacks moved on all sides. The hetman began to speak - and everything stood rooted to the spot. The old man began to cry as he began to recall to us previous deeds and battles. Oh, if you only knew, Katerina, how we fought with the Turks back then! The scar is still visible on my head to this day. Four bullets flew through me in four places. And none of the wounds healed completely. How much gold we collected then! The Cossacks scooped up expensive stones with their caps. What horses, Katerina, if you only knew what horses we stole then! Oh, I can’t fight like that anymore! It seems that he is not old, and his body is vigorous; and the Cossack sword falls out of my hands, I live without anything to do, and I myself don’t know why I live. There is no order in Ukraine: colonels and captains squabble among themselves like dogs. There is no elder head over everyone. Our nobility changed everything to the Polish custom, adopted cunning... sold its soul by accepting union. Judaism oppresses the poor people. Oh, time! time! past time! Where have you gone, my summers?.. Go, little one, to the basement, bring me a cup of honey! I’ll drink to the old share and to the old years!“ “How shall we receive guests, sir? Poles are coming from the meadow side!“ said Stetsko, entering the hut. “I know why they are coming,” Danilo said, getting up from his seat. “Saddle up, my faithful servants, your horses!” put on your harness! sabers drawn! Don't forget to collect lead oatmeal as well. The guests must be greeted with honor!“ But before the Cossacks had time to mount their horses and load their muskets, the Poles, like a leaf falling from a tree to the ground in autumn, dotted the mountain. “Eh, there’s someone here to talk to!” said Danilo, looking at the fat gentlemen swinging importantly on horses in front, in golden harness. “Apparently, we’ll have a great time once again!” You'll get tired, Cossack soul, for the last time! Go for a walk, boys, our holiday has come!’ And the fun went through the mountains. And he closed the feast: swords walk; bullets fly; horses neigh and trample. The screaming makes your head go crazy; The smoke makes your eyes blind. Everything was mixed up. But the Cossack senses where friend is and where foe is; If a bullet makes a noise, the dashing rider will fall off his horse; the saber whistles - the head rolls on the ground, muttering incoherent speeches with its tongue. But the red top of Pan Danil’s Cossack cap is visible in the crowd; a golden belt on a blue zhupan catches your eye; The mane of a black horse curls like a whirlwind. Like a bird, he flits here and there; shouts and waves his Damascus saber, and cuts from the right and left shoulders. Rub, Cossack! walk, Cossack! amuse your brave heart; but don’t look at the golden harnesses and zhupans: trample gold and stones under your feet! Koli, Cossack! walk, Cossack! but look back: the wicked Poles are already setting fire to the huts and driving away the frightened cattle. And like a whirlwind, Pan Danilo turned back, and a hat with a red top flashed near the huts, and the crowd around him thinned out. Not an hour, not another, the Poles and Cossacks fight. There are not many of both. But Pan Danilo does not get tired: he knocks people off the saddle with his long spear, and tramples the foot soldiers with his dashing horse. The courtyard is already being cleared, the Poles have already begun to scatter; The Cossacks are already stripping the golden zhupans and rich harness from the dead; Pan Danilo was already getting ready to give chase and looked to call his people... and he began to boil with rage: Katerina’s father appeared to him. Here he is standing on the mountain and aiming a musket at him. Danilo drove his horse straight towards him... Cossack, you are going to your death!.. The musket rattles - and the sorcerer disappeared behind the mountain. Only the faithful Stetsko saw the flash of red clothes and a wonderful hat. The Cossack staggered and fell to the ground. Faithful Stetsko rushed to his master - his master lay stretched out on the ground and closed his clear eyes. Scarlet blood boiled on his chest. But, apparently, he sensed his faithful servant. He quietly raised his eyelids and flashed his eyes: “Goodbye, Stetsko!” tell Katerina not to leave her son! Don’t leave him either, my faithful servants!” and fell silent. The Cossack soul flew out of the noble body; lips turned blue. The Cossack sleeps soundly. The faithful servant began to sob and waved his hand to Katerina: “Go, lady, go: your gentleman has been playing tricks.” He lies drunk on the damp ground. It won’t take him long to sober up!” Katerina clasped her hands and fell like a sheaf on the dead body. “My husband, are you lying here with your eyes closed? Arise, my beloved falcon, stretch out your hand! rise up! look at your Katerina at least once, move your lips, say at least one word!.. But you are silent, you are silent, my clear sir! You turned blue like the black sea. Your heart doesn't beat! Why are you so cold, my sir? Apparently, my tears are not hot, they cannot warm you! Apparently my crying is not loud, it won’t wake you up! Who will lead your regiments now? Who will ride on your black horse? will he cackle loudly and wave his saber in front of the Cossacks? Cossacks, Cossacks! where is your honor and glory? Your honor and glory lies with your eyes closed on the damp ground. Bury me, bury me with him! cover my eyes with earth! press maple boards onto my white breasts! I don’t need my beauty anymore!” Katerina cries and is killed; and the distance is all covered with dust: old captain Gorobets is galloping to the rescue. X The Dnieper is wonderful in calm weather, when its full waters freely and smoothly rush through forests and mountains. Not a stir; it won't thunder. You look and don’t know whether its majestic width goes or doesn’t go, and it seems as if it is all cast from glass, and as if a blue mirror road, immeasurably wide, endlessly long, soars and winds through the green world. It’s nice then for the hot sun to look around from above and plunge its rays into the cold glassy waters, and for the coastal forests to shine brightly in the waters. Green-haired ones! They crowd together with the wildflowers to the waters, and bending down, they look into them and can’t get enough of their bright eyes, and grin at him, and greet him, nodding their branches. They do not dare to look into the middle of the Dnieper: no one looks into it except the sun and the blue sky. A rare bird will fly to the middle of the Dnieper. Lush! there is no equal river in the world. The Dnieper is wonderful even on a warm summer night, when everything falls asleep, man, beast, and bird; and God alone majestically looks around the sky and earth, and majestically shakes the robe. Stars are falling from the robe. The stars are burning and shining over the world, and all at once they are reflected in the Dnieper. The Dnieper holds them all in its dark bosom. Not one will escape from him; will it go out in the sky? The black forest, strewn with sleeping crows, and the anciently broken mountains, hanging down, try to cover it with their long shadow - in vain! There is nothing in the world that could cover the Dnieper. Blue, blue it moves in a smooth flow and in the middle of the night, as in the middle of the day, is visible as far into the distance as the human eye can see. Basking and snuggling closer to the shores from the night cold, it gives off a silver stream; and it flashes like the stripe of a Damascus saber; and he, blue, fell asleep again. The Dnieper is wonderful even then, and there is no river equal to it in the world! When blue clouds roll across the sky like mountains, the black forest staggers to its roots, the oaks crack, and lightning, breaking between the clouds, illuminates the whole world at once - then the Dnieper is terrible! The water hills thunder, hitting the mountains, and with a shine and a groan they run back, and cry, and flood in the distance. This is how the old Cossack mother is killed, escorting her son to the army. Reckless and cheerful, he rides on a black horse, with his arms akimbo and his cap valiantly cocked; and she, sobbing, runs after him, grabs him by the stirrup, catches the bit and wrings her hands over him and bursts into burning tears. Burnt stumps and stones on the protruding shore grow wildly black between the crashing waves. And the landing boat hits the shore, rising up and falling down. Which of the Cossacks dared to walk in a canoe at a time when the old Dnieper was angry? Apparently he doesn’t know that he swallows people like flies. The boat docked, and the sorcerer got out of it. He is sad; He is bitter about the funeral feast that the Cossacks performed over their murdered lord. The Poles paid a lot: forty-four gentlemen with all their harness and zhupans, and thirty-three slaves were chopped into pieces; and the rest, along with their horses, were taken captive to be sold to the Tatars. He went down the stone steps between the charred stumps, down to where, deep in the ground, he had dug a dugout. He entered quietly, without opening the door, placed a pot on the table, covered with a tablecloth, and began to throw some unknown herbs with his long hands; He took a bowl made of some wonderful wood, scooped up water with it and began to pour it, moving his lips and casting some spells. A pink light appeared in the little room; and it was scary to look him in the face then. It seemed bloody, deep wrinkles only turned black on it, and the eyes looked like they were on fire. Unholy sinner! His beard has long since turned grey, his face is full of wrinkles, and he’s dried up all over, but he’s still working against God. A white cloud began to blow in the middle of the hut, and something similar to joy sparkled in its face. But why did he suddenly become motionless with his mouth open, not daring to move, and why did the hair on his head rise like stubble? Someone’s wonderful face shone in the cloud in front of him. Uninvited, uninvited, it came to visit him; the further, more became clear and fixed eyes fixed on him. His features, eyebrows, eyes, lips, everything is unfamiliar to him. He had never seen him in his entire life. And there seems to be little scary in it; and an irresistible horror attacked him. And the unfamiliar, wondrous head looked at him just as motionless through the cloud. The cloud has already disappeared; and unknown features showed themselves even more sharply and sharp eyes did not take their eyes off him. The sorcerer turned white as a sheet. He screamed wildly, in a voice that was not his own, and knocked over the pot... Everything was lost. XI “Calm yourself, my dear sister!” said old captain Gorobets. “Dreams rarely tell the truth.” “Lie down, sister!” said his young daughter-in-law. “I’ll call the old woman, a fortune teller; no force can stand against it. She will cause a commotion for you." “Don’t be afraid of anything!” said his son, grabbing his saber: “no one will hurt you.” Katerina looked at everyone gloomily, with dull eyes, and was speechless. “I brought about my own destruction. I released him." Finally she said: “I have no peace from him!” I have been with you in Kyiv for ten days now; but the grief did not diminish one bit. I thought that I would at least raise my son in silence to take revenge... I saw him in my dream, terrible, terrible! God forbid you to see it too! My heart is still beating. I will cut down your child, Katerina! he shouted, “if you don’t marry me...” and, sobbing, she rushed to the cradle, and the frightened child stretched out her little arms and screamed. The son of Esaul seethed and sparkled with anger, hearing such speeches. Captain Gorobets himself also disagreed: “Let him, the accursed Antichrist, try to come here; will taste whether there is power in the hands of an old Cossack. “God sees,” he said, raising his clairvoyant eyes upward: “Didn’t I fly to give my brother Danil a hand? His holy will! I found him already on a cold bed, on which many, many Cossack people were lying down. But wasn’t the funeral service for him magnificent? Have they released at least one Poles alive? Calm down, my child! no one will dare to offend you, unless it’s me or my son.” Having finished his words, the old captain came to the cradle, and the child, seeing a red cradle and a hamman with a shiny flint hanging on his belt in a silver frame, stretched out his little hands to him and laughed. “He will follow his father,” said the old captain, taking off the cradle and giving it to him: “he hasn’t left the cradle yet, but he’s already thinking about smoking the cradle.” Katerina sighed quietly and began rocking the cradle. They agreed to spend the night together, and soon everyone fell asleep. Katerina also fell asleep. Everything was quiet in the yard and in the house; Only the Cossacks, standing on guard, were awake. Suddenly Katerina, screaming, woke up, and everyone woke up after her. “He’s killed, he’s stabbed to death!” she screamed and rushed to the cradle. Everyone surrounded the cradle and became petrified with fear when they saw that there was a lifeless child lying in it. Not a single sound was uttered by any of them, not knowing what to think about the unheard-of crime. XII Far from the Ukrainian region, having passed through Poland, passing the populous city of Lemberg, high-topped mountains go in rows. Mountain after mountain, like stone chains, they throw the earth to the right and left and bind it with a layer of stone so that the noisy and violent sea does not suck it out. Stone chains are going to Wallachia and the Sedmigrad region, and they have become a huge horseshoe between the Galician and Hungarian people. There are no such mountains in our area. The eye does not dare to look around them; and not even a human foot has reached the top of others. Their appearance is also wonderful: was it not the playful sea that ran out of its wide shores in a storm, threw up ugly waves like a whirlwind and they, petrified, remained motionless in the air? Have heavy clouds fallen from the sky and cluttered the earth? for they have the same gray color, and the white top glitters and sparkles in the sun. Even before the Carpathian Mountains you will hear Russian rumors, and beyond the mountains, here and there, a native word will echo; and then the faith is not the same, and the speech is not the same. The Hungarian people do not live sparsely; rides horses, chops and drinks no worse than a Cossack; and for horse harnesses and expensive caftans he does not skimp on taking chervonets out of his pocket. There are large and razdolny lakes between the mountains. Like glass, they are motionless and, like a mirror, they reflect the bare peaks of the mountains and their green soles. But who, in the middle of the night, whether the stars are shining or not, is riding on a huge black horse? what kind of hero with inhuman growth gallops under the mountains, over lakes, is reflected with a gigantic horse in the motionless waters, and his endless shadow flickers terribly across the mountains? The hammered armor shines; on the shoulder of the peak; the saber rattles when saddled; pulled over with a helmet; the mustache turns black; eyes closed; eyelashes are lowered - he is sleeping. And, sleepy, he holds the reins; and behind him sits on the same horse a baby page, and also sleeps and, sleepy, clings to the hero. Who is he, where is he going, why is he going? - Who knows. It hasn't been a day or two since he's been crossing the mountains. The day will flash, the sun will rise, it will not be visible; Only occasionally did the mountaineers notice that someone’s long shadow was flickering across the mountains, but the sky was clear, and no clouds would pass across it. As soon as night brings darkness, he is visible again and reverberates in the lakes, and behind him, trembling, his shadow jumps. He had already passed many mountains and reached Krivan. This mountain is not higher between the Carpathians, like a king it rises above the others. Here the horse and rider stopped and fell even deeper into sleep, and the clouds descended and covered it. XIII “Shh... hush, woman!” Don't knock like that, my child is asleep. My son cried for a long time, now he is sleeping. I'll go to the forest, woman! Why are you looking at me like that? You are scary: iron pincers are stretching out of your eyes... wow, what long ones! and burn like fire! You must be a witch! Oh, if you are a witch, then get out of here! you will steal my son. How stupid this captain is: he thinks it’s fun for me to live in Kyiv; no, my husband and son are here; who will look after the house? I left so quietly that neither the cat nor the dog heard. You want, woman, to become young - it’s not difficult at all: you just need to dance; look how I dance...” and having uttered such incoherent speeches, Katerina was already rushing, looking madly in all directions and resting her hands on her hips. She stamped her feet with a squeal; the silver horseshoes rang without measure, without tact. Unbraided black braids fluttered over her white neck. Like a bird, without stopping, she flew, waving her arms and nodding her head, and it seemed as if, exhausted, she would either crash to the ground or fly out of the world. The old nanny stood sadly and her deep wrinkles were filled with tears; a heavy stone lay on the hearts of the faithful lads who looked at their lady. She was already completely weak and lazily stamped her feet in one place, thinking that she was dancing a turtle dove. “But I have monistos, lads!” she finally said, stopping: “But you don’t!.. Where is my husband?” she suddenly cried, snatching a Turkish dagger from her belt. "ABOUT! This is not the kind of knife you need." At the same time, tears and melancholy appeared on her face. “My father’s heart is far away, he will not reach him. His heart is forged from iron. It was forged by a witch on a burning fire. Why is my father missing? doesn't he know it's time to stab him? Apparently, he wants me to come myself...” and without finishing, she laughed wonderfully. “A funny story came to mind: I remembered how my husband was buried. After all, they buried him alive... what laughter took me away... Listen, listen! “And, instead of words, she began to sing a song: There’s a bloody cart: A Cossack lies with this cart, Shot and chopped up. Hold the javelin in the right hand, and then use it to cut the javelin; Bloody hell. There is a sycamore tree above the river. Above the sycamore the raven is louder. The Cossack is crying swear words. Don't cry, swear, don't curse! Your son is already married. She took the young woman, a little lady, in a clean, dugout, and without a door, without a window. That's the end of it all. The fish danced with the crayfish... And who wouldn’t love his shaking mother! This is how all her songs were mixed up. She has been living in her hut for a day or two already and does not want to hear about Kyiv, and does not pray, and runs away from people; and from morning until late evening he wanders through the dark oak forests. Sharp branches scratch the white face and shoulders; the wind flutters the unbraided braids; the ancient leaves rustle under her feet - she doesn’t look at anything. At the hour when the evening dawn is fading, the stars have not yet appeared, the moon is not shining, and it is already scary to walk in the forest: unbaptized children are scratching the trees and grabbing branches, sobbing, laughing, rolling in a club along the roads and in the wide nettles; from the Dnieper waves, maidens who have destroyed their souls run out in lines; hair flows from the green head onto the shoulders, water, murmuring loudly, runs from long hair to the ground, and the maiden glows through the water, as if through a glass shirt; lips smile wonderfully, cheeks glow, eyes lure out the soul... she would burn with love, she would kiss... Run! baptized man! her mouth is ice, her bed is cold water; she will tickle you and drag you into the river. Katerina does not look at anyone, is not afraid, mad, of mermaids, runs late with her knife and looks for her father. Early in the morning some guest arrived, stately in appearance, in a red zhupan, and inquired about Mr. Danil; hears everything, wipes his tear-stained eyes with his sleeve and shrugs. He fought together with the late Burulbash; they fought together with the Crimeans and Turks; Did he expect such an end for Mr. Danil? The guest also talks about many other things and wants to see Mrs. Katerina. At first Katerina did not listen to anything the guest said; Finally, like a reasonable person, she began to listen attentively to his speech. He talked about how he and Danil lived together, like brother and brother; how they once hid under the rowing from the Crimeans... Katerina listened to everything and did not take her eyes off him. “She will go away!” thought the boys, looking at her. “This guest will cure her!” She’s already listening like she’s intelligent!” The guest began to tell the story, while Mr. Danilo, in the hour of frank conversation, told him: “Look, brother Koprian: when by the will of God I am no longer in the world, take a wife to you, and let her be your wife...” Katerina’s eyes fixed on him terribly. “Ah!” she screamed: “it’s him!” This is the father!“ and rushed at him with a knife. He struggled for a long time, trying to snatch the knife from her. Finally he pulled it out, swung it - and a terrible thing happened: the father killed his insane daughter. The astonished Cossacks rushed at him; but the sorcerer had already jumped on his horse and disappeared from sight. XIV An unheard-of miracle appeared outside Kiev. All the lords and hetmans were going to marvel at this miracle: suddenly it became visible far to all ends of the world. In the distance the Liman turned blue, and beyond the Liman the Black Sea overflowed. Experienced people recognized both the Crimea, which rose like a mountain from the sea, and the marshy Sivash. On the left hand the land of Galich was visible. “What is this?” asked the assembled people of old people, pointing to the gray and white tops that seemed more like clouds in the sky. “Those are the Carpathian mountains!” the old people said: “among them there are those from which the snow has not left for centuries; and the clouds stick and spend the night there.” Then a new miracle appeared: the clouds flew down from the highest mountain, and at its top a man appeared in all his knight's harness on a horse with his eyes closed, and was as visible as if he were standing close. Here, among the people marveling in fear, one jumped on his horse and, looking wildly around, as if searching with his eyes to see if anyone was chasing him, hastily, with all his might, drove his horse. It was a sorcerer. Why was he so scared? Peering with fear at the wonderful knight, he recognized on him the same face that, uninvited, appeared to him when he was casting a spell. He himself could not understand why everything in him was confused at this sight and, timidly looking around, he raced on his horse until evening overtook him and the stars appeared. Then he turned home, perhaps to interrogate the evil spirits about what such a miracle meant. He was about to jump with his horse over a narrow river that jutted out like a branch in the middle of the road, when suddenly the horse stopped at full gallop, turned its muzzle towards him, and, miraculously, laughed! white teeth flashed terribly in two rows in the darkness. The hairs on the sorcerer's head stood on end. He screamed wildly and cried like a man in a frenzy, and drove his horse straight to Kyiv. It seemed to him that everything was running from all sides to catch him: the trees, surrounded by a dark forest, and as if alive, nodding their black beards and stretching out long branches, tried to strangle him; the stars seemed to run ahead in front of him, pointing everyone to the sinner; the road itself, it seemed, was rushing in his wake. The desperate sorcerer flew to Kyiv to the holy places. XV The schema-monk sat alone in his cave in front of the lamp and did not take his eyes off the holy book. It has been many years since he shut himself up in his cave. He had already made himself a plank coffin, in which he went to sleep instead of a bed. The holy elder closed his book and began to pray... Suddenly a man of a wonderful, terrible appearance ran in. The holy schema-monk was amazed for the first time and retreated when he saw such a man. He was trembling all over like an aspen leaf; the eyes squinted wildly; a terrible fire fearfully poured out of his eyes; His ugly face made my soul tremble. “Father, pray!” pray!” he shouted desperately: “pray for the lost soul!” and fell to the ground. The holy schema-monk crossed himself, took out a book, unfolded it, stepped back in horror and dropped the book: “No, unheard of sinner!” no mercy for you! run away from here! I can’t pray for you!” “No?” the sinner shouted like crazy. “Look: the holy letters in the book are filled with blood. There has never been such a sinner in the world!” “Father, you are laughing at me!” “Go, damned sinner!” I'm not laughing at you. Fear takes over me. It’s not good for a person to be with you!” “No! no, you’re laughing, don’t talk... I see how your mouth parted: your old teeth are white in rows!..” And like mad, he rushed in and killed the holy schema-monk. Something groaned heavily and the groan carried across the field and forest. Skinny, dry hands with long claws rose from behind the forest; shook and disappeared. And he no longer felt any fear or anything. Everything seems vague to him. There is a noise in the ears, a noise in the head, as if from drunkenness, and everything that is before the eyes is covered, as it were, with a cobweb. Jumping on his horse, he rode straight to Kanev, thinking from there through Cherkasy to direct the way to the Tatars directly to the Crimea, without knowing why. He's been driving for a day, two, and still no Kanev. The road is the same; It’s time for him to show up long ago, but Kanev is nowhere to be seen. The tops of churches flashed in the distance. But this is not Kanev, but Shumsk. The sorcerer was amazed, seeing that he had driven in a completely different direction. He drove the horse back to Kyiv, and a day later the city appeared; but not Kyiv, but Galich, a city even further from Kyiv than Shumsk, and already not far from the Hungarians. Not knowing what to do, he turned his horse back again, but again he felt that he was riding in the opposite direction and still forward. Not a single person in the world could tell what was in the sorcerer’s soul; and if he had looked in and seen what was going on there, he would not have gotten enough sleep at night and would not have laughed even once. It was not anger, not fear, and not fierce annoyance. There is no word in the world that could describe it. He was burning, scorching, he wanted to trample the whole world with his horse, take all the land from Kyiv to Galich with people, with everything, and drown it in the Black Sea. But he didn’t want to do this out of malice; no, he himself didn’t know why. He shuddered all over when the Carpathian Mountains and the high Krivan appeared close in front of him, covering his crown with a gray cloud, as if with a hat; and the horse kept rushing and was already scouring the mountains. The clouds cleared at once, and a horseman appeared in front of him in terrible majesty. He tries to stop; pulls the bit tightly; the horse neighed wildly, raising its mane, and rushed towards the knight. Here it seems to the sorcerer that everything in him has frozen, that the motionless horseman is moving and at once opened his eyes; he saw the sorcerer rushing towards him and laughed. Like thunder, wild laughter scattered across the mountains and sounded in the sorcerer’s heart, shaking everything that was inside him. It seemed to him that it was as if someone strong had climbed into him and was walking inside him and beating his heart, his veins with hammers... that laughter echoed so terribly within him! The horseman grabbed the sorcerer with his terrible hand and lifted him into the air. The sorcerer died instantly and opened his eyes after death. But there was already a dead man, and he looked like a dead man. Neither the living nor the resurrected one looks so scary. He turned around with his dead eyes and saw the rising dead from Kyiv, and from the land of Galich, and from the Carpathians, like two peas in a pod with similar faces to him. Pale, pale, each taller than the other, each one boneier, they stood around the horseman, who was holding a terrible prey in his hand. The knight laughed again and threw her into the abyss. And all the dead jumped into the abyss, picked up the dead man and sank their teeth into him. Another one, taller than all, more terrible than all, wanted to rise from the ground; but he could not, he was not strong enough to do this, he grew so great in the earth; and if he had risen, he would have overturned the Carpathians, and the Sedmigrad and Turkish lands; he only moved a little, and from that a shaking began throughout the entire earth. And many houses were overturned everywhere. And a lot of people were crushed. You can often hear a whistling sound across the Carpathians, as if a thousand mills are making noise with their wheels on the water. Then, in a hopeless abyss, which not a single person who is afraid to pass by has ever seen, the dead are gnawing at the dead. It has often happened all over the world that the earth shook from one end to the other; This is happening, literate people interpret, because there is somewhere, near the sea, a mountain from which flames are snatched and burning rivers flow. But the old people who live both in Hungary and in the Galich land know this better and say: something great, a great dead man who grew up in the earth, wants to rise and is shaking the earth. XVI In the city of Glukhov, people gathered around the old bandura player, and for an hour they listened to the blind man playing the bandura. No bandura player has ever sung such wonderful songs so well. At first he talked about the former hetmanate of Sagaidachny and Khmelnytsky. It was a different time then: the Cossacks were in glory; trampled the enemies' horses, and no one dared to laugh at him. The old man sang cheerful songs and turned his eyes towards the people, as if he were seeing; and the fingers, with bones attached to them, flew like a fly along the strings, and it seemed as if the strings were playing themselves; and all around there were people, old people, with bowed heads, and young people, raising their eyes to the old man, not daring to whisper among themselves. “Wait,” said the elder, “I’ll sing to you about an old matter.” The people moved even closer and the blind man sang: “For Pan Stepan, Prince of Sedmigrad, the Prince of Sedmigrad was king and among the Poles, there lived two Cossacks: Ivan and Petro. They lived like brother and brother. “Look, Ivan, everything you get is in half. When someone has fun, someone else has fun; when grief is for one, grief is for both; when there is prey for anyone, the prey is divided in half; when someone falls into captivity, sell everything to another and give a ransom, otherwise, go to captivity yourself.” And it’s true that whatever the Cossacks got, they divided it in half; Whether they stole other people's cattle or horses, they divided everything in half. *** “King Stepan fought with Turchin. He has been fighting with Turchin for three weeks now, but still cannot drive him out. And Turchin had such a pasha that he, with ten Janissaries, could cut down an entire regiment. So King Stepan announced that if a daredevil is found and brings that pasha to him, alive or dead, he will give him alone as much salary as he gives for the entire army. “Let’s go, brother, to catch the pasha!” said brother Ivan to Peter. And the Cossacks rode off, one in one direction, the other in the other. *** “Whether Petro would have caught it or not, and already Ivan is leading the plow with a lasso by the neck to the king himself. “Brave fellow!” said King Stepan, and ordered that he alone be given the same salary as the entire army receives; and ordered him to be given land wherever he wanted, and to give him as much cattle as he wanted. As soon as Ivan received his salary from the king, on the same day he divided everything equally between himself and Peter. Petro took half the royal salary, but could not bear the fact that Ivan received such an honor from the king, and harbored revenge deep in his soul. *** “Both knights rode to the land granted by the king, beyond the Carpathians. The Cossack Ivan put his son on his horse with him, tying him to himself. It's already dusk - they're still moving. The baby fell asleep, and Ivan himself began to doze. Don't sleep, Cossack, the roads in the mountains are dangerous!.. But the Cossack has such a horse that he knows the way everywhere, and will not stumble or stumble. There is a gap between the mountains, no one has seen the bottom of the hole; as much as from the earth to the sky, as much to the bottom of that failure. There is a road right above the gap - two people can still pass, but three people will never get through. The horse with the dozing Cossack began to carefully step. Petro rode nearby, trembling all over and holding his breath with joy. He looked around and pushed the named brother into the hole. And the horse with the Cossack and the baby flew into the hole. *** “However, the Cossack grabbed a branch, and only the horse flew to the bottom. He began to climb up, with his son over his shoulders; I didn’t get there a little, I looked up and saw that Petro had pointed a pike to push him back. “My God, righteous one, it would be better for me not to raise my eyes than to see how my own brother instructs a pike to push me back. My dear brother! stab me with a lance, when it was already written in my family, but take your son! What is the innocent baby’s fault for him to die such a cruel death?’ Petro laughed and pushed him with a pike, and the Cossack and the baby flew to the bottom. Petro took all the goods for himself and began to live like a pasha. No one had herds like Peter’s. There were never so many sheep and rams anywhere. And Petro died. *** “As Petro died, God called the souls of both brothers, Peter and Ivan, to trial. “This man is a great sinner!” said God. “Ivana!” I will not choose execution for him soon; choose his execution yourself!” Ivan thought for a long time, imagining the execution, and finally said: “This man inflicted a great insult on me: he betrayed his brother, like Judas, and deprived me of my honest family and descendants on earth. And a person without an honest family and descendants is like a grain seed thrown into the ground and lost in vain in the ground. There is no germination - no one will know that the seed was thrown. *** “God, make it so that all his descendants will not have happiness on earth!” so that the last of his kind would be such a villain as never before existed in the world! And from each of his crimes, so that his grandfathers and great-grandfathers would not find peace in their graves, and, enduring torment unknown in the world, would rise from their graves! And Judas Petro would not be able to rise, and as a result he would endure even greater torment; and would eat the earth like mad and writhe under the ground! *** “And when the hour of measure comes for that man’s atrocities, lift me, God, from that hole on horseback to the highest mountain, and let him come to me, and I’ll throw him from that mountain into the deepest hole, and that’s all.” the dead, his grandfathers and great-grandfathers, wherever they lived during life, so that everyone would reach out from different sides of the earth to gnaw at him, for the torment that he inflicted on them, and they would gnaw at him forever, and I would have fun, looking at his torment! And Judas Petro would not be able to rise from the ground, so that he would be eager to gnaw at himself, but would gnaw at himself, and his bones would grow further and larger, so that through this his pain would become even stronger. That torment for him will be the most terrible: for there is no greater torment for a person than wanting to take revenge and not being able to take revenge. *** “The execution you have invented is terrible, man!” said God. “Let everything be as you said, but you sit there forever on your horse, and there will be no kingdom of heaven for you as long as you sit there on your horse!” And then everything came true as it was said: and to this day it stands in the Carpathians there is a wondrous knight on a horse, and he sees how the dead are gnawing a dead man in a bottomless pit, and he feels how the dead man lying underground is growing, gnawing his bones in terrible agony and terribly shaking the whole earth. ..” The blind man had already finished his song; has already begun to pluck the strings again; He had already begun to sing funny tales about Khoma and Yerema, about Stklyar Stokosa... but the old and young still did not think of waking up and stood for a long time, with their heads down, thinking about the terrible thing that happened in the old days.Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol
Terrible revenge
The end of Kyiv is making noise and thundering: Captain Gorobets is celebrating the wedding of his son. Many people came to visit Yesaul. In the old days they loved to eat well, they loved to drink even better, and even better they loved to have fun. The Cossack Mikitka also arrived on his bay horse straight from a riotous drinking binge from the Pereshlyaya field, where he fed red wine to the royal nobles for seven days and seven nights. The captain's sworn brother, Danilo Burulbash, also arrived from the other bank of the Dnieper, where, between two mountains, there was his farm, with his young wife Katerina and his one-year-old son. The guests marveled at Mrs. Katerina’s white face, her eyebrows as black as German velvet, her elegant cloth and underwear made of blue half-sleeve, and her boots with silver horseshoes; but they were even more surprised that the old father did not come with her. He lived in the Trans-Dnieper region for only a year, but for twenty-one he disappeared without a trace and returned to his daughter when she had already married and given birth to a son. He would probably tell a lot of wonderful things. How can I not tell you, having been in a foreign land for so long! Everything is wrong there: the people are not the same, and there are no churches of Christ... But he did not come.
The guests were served Varenukha with raisins and plums and Korowai on a large platter. The musicians began to work on its underside, baked together with the money, and, becoming silent for a while, they placed cymbals, violins and tambourines near them. Meanwhile, the young women and girls, having wiped themselves with embroidered scarves, stepped out again from their ranks; and the boys, clutching their sides, proudly looking around, were ready to rush towards them - when the old captain brought out two icons to bless the young. He got those icons from the honest schema-monk, Elder Bartholomew. Their utensils are not rich, neither silver nor gold burns, but no evil spirit will dare to touch the one who has them in the house. Raising the icons up, the captain was preparing to say a short prayer... when suddenly the children playing on the ground screamed, frightened; and after them the people retreated, and everyone pointed with fear at the Cossack standing in their midst. No one knew who he was. But he had already danced to the glory of a Cossack and had already managed to make the crowd surrounding him laugh. When the captain raised the icons, suddenly his whole face changed: his nose grew and bent to the side, instead of brown, green eyes jumped, his lips turned blue, his chin trembled and became sharpened like a spear, a fang ran out of his mouth, a hump rose from behind his head, and became an old Cossack.
It is he! It is he! - they shouted in the crowd, huddling closely together.
The sorcerer has appeared again! - mothers shouted, grabbing their children in their arms.
The esaul stepped forward majestically and dignifiedly and said in a loud voice, holding up the icons in front of him:
Get lost, image of Satan, there is no place for you here! - And, hissing and clicking his teeth like a wolf, the wonderful old man disappeared.
They went, they went and made a noise like the sea in bad weather, talk and speeches among the people.
What kind of sorcerer is this? - asked young and unprecedented people.
There will be trouble! - the old people said, turning their heads.
And everywhere, throughout the wide courtyard of Yesaul, they began to gather in groups and listen to stories about the wonderful sorcerer. But almost everyone said different things, and probably no one could tell about him.
A barrel of honey was rolled out into the yard and quite a few buckets of walnut wine were placed. Everything was cheerful again. The musicians thundered; girls, young women, dashing Cossacks in bright zhupans rushed. The ninety- and one-hundred-year-old old people, having had a good time, began to dance for themselves, remembering the missing years for good reason. They feasted until late at night, and they feasted in a way that they no longer feast. The guests began to disperse, but few wandered back home: many remained to spend the night with the captain in the wide courtyard; and even more Cossacks fell asleep themselves, uninvited, under the benches, on the floor, near the horse, near the stable; Where the Cossack head staggers from drunkenness, there he lies and snores for all of Kyiv to hear.
It shines quietly all over the world: then the moon appeared from behind the mountain. It was as if he had covered the mountainous bank of the Dnieper with a Damascus road and white as snow muslin, and the shadow went even further into the thicket of pine trees.
An oak tree floated in the middle of the Dnieper. Two boys are sitting in front; black Cossack hats are askew, and under the oars, as if fire from a flint, splashes fly in all directions.
Why don't the Cossacks sing? They don’t talk about how priests are already walking around Ukraine and rebaptizing the Cossack people into Catholics; nor about how the horde fought for two days at Salt Lake. How can they sing, how can they talk about dashing deeds: their master Danilo became thoughtful, and the sleeve of his crimson jacket dropped from the oak tree and drew water; Their lady Katerina quietly rocks the child and does not take her eyes off him, and water falls like gray dust onto the elegant cloth that is not covered with linen.
It’s a pleasure to look from the middle of the Dnieper at high mountains, wide meadows, and green forests! Those mountains are not mountains: they have no soles, below them, as above, there is a sharp peak, and below them and above them there is a high sky. Those forests that stand on the hills are not forests: they are hairs growing on the shaggy head of a forest grandfather. Under her, a beard is washed in water, and under the beard and above the hair there is a high sky. Those meadows are not meadows: they are a green belt, girding the round sky in the middle, and the moon walks in the upper half and in the lower half.
Mr. Danilo does not look around, he looks at his young wife.
What, my young wife, my golden Katerina, has fallen into sadness?
I didn’t go into sadness, my lord Danilo! I was frightened by the wonderful stories about the sorcerer. They say that he was born so scary... and none of the children wanted to play with him from childhood. Listen, Mr. Danilo, how scary they say: that it was as if he was imagining everything, that everyone was laughing at him. If he met some person in the dark evening, he immediately imagined that he was opening his mouth and showing his teeth. And the next day they found that man dead. It was wonderful for me, I was scared when I listened to these stories,” said Katerina, taking out a handkerchief and wiping the face of the child sleeping in her arms with it. She embroidered leaves and berries on the scarf with red silk.
Pan Danilo didn’t say a word and began to look at the dark side, where far from behind the forest an earthen rampart loomed black and an old castle rose from behind the rampart. Three wrinkles were cut out at once above the eyebrows; his left hand stroked the youthful mustache.
It’s not so scary that he’s a sorcerer, he said, but it’s scary that he’s an unkind guest. What kind of whim did he have to drag himself here? I heard that the Poles want to build some kind of fortress to cut off our road to the Cossacks. Let it be true... I will scatter the devil's nest if there is a rumor that he has some kind of stash. I will burn the old sorcerer, so that the crows will have nothing to peck at. However, I think he is not without gold and all sorts of good things. That's where the devil lives! If he has gold... We will now sail past the crosses - this is a cemetery! here his unclean grandfathers rot. They say that they were all ready to sell themselves to Satan for money with their souls and tattered zhupans. If he definitely has gold, then there’s no point in delaying now: it’s not always possible to get it in war...
The end of Kyiv is making noise and thundering: Captain Gorobets is celebrating the wedding of his son. Many people came to visit Yesaul. In the old days they loved to eat well, they loved to drink even better, and even better they loved to have fun. The Cossack Mikitka also arrived on his bay horse straight from a riotous drinking binge from the Pereshlyaya field, where he fed red wine to the royal nobles for seven days and seven nights. The captain's sworn brother, Danilo Burulbash, also arrived from the other bank of the Dnieper, where, between two mountains, there was his farm, with his young wife Katerina and his one-year-old son. The guests marveled at Mrs. Katerina’s white face, her eyebrows as black as German velvet, her elegant cloth and underwear made of blue half-sleeve, and her boots with silver horseshoes; but they were even more surprised that the old father did not come with her. He lived in the Trans-Dnieper region for only a year, but for twenty-one he disappeared without a trace and returned to his daughter when she had already married and given birth to a son. He would probably tell a lot of wonderful things. How can I not tell you, having been in a foreign land for so long! Everything is wrong there: the people are not the same, and there are no churches of Christ... But he did not come.
The guests were served Varenukha with raisins and plums and Korowai on a large platter. The musicians began to work on its underside, baked together with the money, and, becoming silent for a while, they placed cymbals, violins and tambourines near them. Meanwhile, the young women and girls, having wiped themselves with embroidered scarves, stepped out again from their ranks; and the boys, clutching their sides, proudly looking around, were ready to rush towards them - when the old captain brought out two icons to bless the young. He got those icons from the honest schema-monk, Elder Bartholomew. Their utensils are not rich, neither silver nor gold burns, but no evil spirit will dare to touch the one who has them in the house. Raising the icons up, the captain was preparing to say a short prayer... when suddenly the children playing on the ground screamed, frightened; and after them the people retreated, and everyone pointed with fear at the Cossack standing in their midst. No one knew who he was. But he had already danced to the glory of a Cossack and had already managed to make the crowd surrounding him laugh. When the captain raised the icons, suddenly his whole face changed: his nose grew and bent to the side, instead of brown, green eyes jumped, his lips turned blue, his chin trembled and became sharpened like a spear, a fang ran out of his mouth, a hump rose from behind his head, and became an old Cossack.
It is he! It is he! - they shouted in the crowd, huddling closely together.
The sorcerer has appeared again! - mothers shouted, grabbing their children in their arms.
The esaul stepped forward majestically and dignifiedly and said in a loud voice, holding up the icons in front of him:
Get lost, image of Satan, there is no place for you here! - And, hissing and clicking his teeth like a wolf, the wonderful old man disappeared.
They went, they went and made a noise like the sea in bad weather, talk and speeches among the people.
What kind of sorcerer is this? - asked young and unprecedented people.
There will be trouble! - the old people said, turning their heads.
And everywhere, throughout the wide courtyard of Yesaul, they began to gather in groups and listen to stories about the wonderful sorcerer. But almost everyone said different things, and probably no one could tell about him.
A barrel of honey was rolled out into the yard and quite a few buckets of walnut wine were placed. Everything was cheerful again. The musicians thundered; girls, young women, dashing Cossacks in bright zhupans rushed. The ninety- and one-hundred-year-old old people, having had a good time, began to dance for themselves, remembering the missing years for good reason. 
They feasted until late at night, and feasted in a way that they no longer feast. The guests began to disperse, but few wandered back home: many remained to spend the night with the captain in the wide courtyard; and even more Cossacks fell asleep themselves, uninvited, under the benches, on the floor, near the horse, near the stable; Where the Cossack head staggers from drunkenness, there he lies and snores for all of Kyiv to hear.
It shines quietly all over the world: then the moon appeared from behind the mountain. It was as if he had covered the mountainous bank of the Dnieper with damask road and white as snow muslin, and the shadow went even further into the thicket of pine trees.
An oak tree floated in the middle of the Dnieper. Two boys are sitting in front; black Cossack hats are askew, and under the oars, as if fire from a flint, splashes fly in all directions.
Why don't the Cossacks sing? They don’t talk about how priests are already walking around Ukraine and rebaptizing the Cossack people into Catholics; nor about how the horde fought for two days at Salt Lake. How can they sing, how can they talk about dashing deeds: their master Danilo became thoughtful, and the sleeve of his crimson jacket dropped from the oak tree and drew water; Their lady Katerina quietly rocks the child and does not take her eyes off him, and water falls like gray dust onto the elegant cloth that is not covered with linen.
It’s a pleasure to look from the middle of the Dnieper at high mountains, wide meadows, and green forests! Those mountains are not mountains: they have no soles, below them, as above, there is a sharp peak, and below them and above them there is a high sky. Those forests that stand on the hills are not forests: they are hairs growing on the shaggy head of a forest grandfather. Under her, a beard is washed in water, and under the beard and above the hair there is a high sky. Those meadows are not meadows: they are a green belt, girding the round sky in the middle, and the moon walks in the upper half and in the lower half.
Mr. Danilo does not look around, he looks at his young wife.
What, my young wife, my golden Katerina, has fallen into sadness?
I didn’t go into sadness, my lord Danilo! I was frightened by the wonderful stories about the sorcerer. They say that he was born so scary... and none of the children wanted to play with him from childhood. Listen, Mr. Danilo, how scary they say: that it was as if he was imagining everything, that everyone was laughing at him. If he met some person in the dark evening, he immediately imagined that he was opening his mouth and showing his teeth. And the next day they found that man dead. It was wonderful for me, I was scared when I listened to these stories,” said Katerina, taking out a handkerchief and wiping the face of the child sleeping in her arms with it. She embroidered leaves and berries on the scarf with red silk.
Pan Danilo didn’t say a word and began to look at the dark side, where far from behind the forest an earthen rampart loomed black and an old castle rose from behind the rampart. Three wrinkles were cut out at once above the eyebrows; his left hand stroked the youthful mustache.
It’s not so scary that he’s a sorcerer, he said, but it’s scary that he’s an unkind guest. What kind of whim did he have to drag himself here? I heard that the Poles want to build some kind of fortress to cut off our road to the Cossacks. Let it be true... I will scatter the devil's nest if there is a rumor that he has some kind of stash. I will burn the old sorcerer, so that the crows will have nothing to peck at. However, I think he is not without gold and all sorts of good things. That's where the devil lives! If he has gold... We will now sail past the crosses - this is a cemetery! here his unclean grandfathers rot. They say that they were all ready to sell themselves to Satan for money with their souls and tattered zhupans. If he definitely has gold, then there’s no point in delaying now: it’s not always possible to get it in war...
I know what you're up to. Nothing bodes well for me meeting him. But you breathe so heavily, you look so sternly, your eyes are drawn down with such gloomy eyebrows!..
Shut up, grandma! - Danilo said with heart. - Whoever contacts you will become a woman himself. Boy, give me some fire in the cradle! - Here he turned to one of the rowers, who, having knocked out hot ash from his cradle, began to transfer it to his master’s cradle. - He's scaring me with a sorcerer! - continued Mr. Danilo. - Kozak, thank God, is not afraid of devils or priests. It would be of much use if we began to obey our wives. Isn't that right, guys? our wife is a cradle and a sharp saber!
Katerina fell silent, lowering her eyes into the sleepy water; and the wind rippled the water, and the whole Dnieper turned silver, like wolf fur in the middle of the night.
The oak turned and began to stick to the wooded shore. A cemetery could be seen on the shore: old crosses crowded into a heap. Neither viburnum grows among them, nor the grass turns green, only the month warms them from the heavenly heights.
Do you guys hear the screams? Someone is calling us for help! - said Pan Danilo, turning to his rowers.
“We hear screams, and it seems from the other side,” the boys said at once, pointing to the cemetery.
But everything was quiet. The boat turned and began to go around the protruding shore. Suddenly the rowers lowered their oars and fixed their eyes motionlessly. Pan Danilo also stopped: fear and cold cut through the Cossack veins.
The cross on the grave began to shake, and a dried-up corpse quietly rose from it. Belt-length beard; the claws on the fingers are long, even longer than the fingers themselves. He quietly raised his hands up. His face began to tremble and contort. He apparently endured terrible torment. “It’s stuffy for me! stuffy!” - he moaned in a wild, inhuman voice. His voice, like a knife, scratched his heart, and the dead man suddenly went underground. Another cross shook, and again a dead man came out, even more terrible, even taller than before; all overgrown, knee-length beard and even longer bone claws. He shouted even more wildly: “It’s stuffy for me!” - and went underground. The third cross shook, the third dead man rose. It seemed that only the bones rose high above the ground. Beard right to the heels; fingers with long claws stuck into the ground. He terribly stretched his hands up, as if he wanted to get the month, and screamed as if someone had begun to saw through his yellow bones...
The child, sleeping in Katerina’s arms, screamed and woke up. The lady herself screamed. The rowers dropped their hats into the Dnieper. The gentleman himself shuddered.
Everything suddenly disappeared, as if it had never happened; however, the boys did not take up the oars for a long time.
Burulbash looked carefully at his young wife, who in fright was rocking a screaming child in her arms, pressed her to his heart and kissed her forehead.
Don't be scared, Katerina! Look: there is nothing! - he said, pointing around. - This sorcerer wants to frighten people so that no one gets to his unclean nest. He'll only scare some people with this! give me your son here in my arms! - At this word, Mr. Danilo raised his son up and brought it to his lips. - What, Ivan, aren’t you afraid of sorcerers? “No, speak up, father, I’m a Cossack.” Come on, stop crying! We'll come home! When we get home, your mother will feed you porridge, put you to sleep in the cradle, and sing:
Lyuli, lyuli, lyuli!
Lyuli, son, Lyuli!
Grow up, grow into fun!
To the glory of the Cossacks,
The warrens will be punished!
Listen, Katerina, it seems to me that your father does not want to live in harmony with us. He arrived gloomy, stern, as if he was angry... Well, he’s dissatisfied, so why come. I didn’t want to drink to the Cossack will! I didn’t rock the baby in my arms! At first I wanted to believe him everything that lay in my heart, but something did not take me, and the speech stuttered. No, he doesn’t have a Cossack heart! Cossack hearts, when they meet where, how will they not beat out of their chests towards each other! What, my lads, are you going to shore soon? Well, I'll give you new hats. I will give you, Stetsko, lined with velvet and gold. I took it off along with the Tatar’s head. I got his entire projectile; I released only his soul into freedom. Well, dock! Here, Ivan, we have arrived, and you are still crying! Take it, Katerina!
Everyone left. A thatched roof appeared from behind the mountain: it was Pan Danil’s grandfather’s mansion. Behind them there is still a mountain, and there is already a field, and even if you walk a hundred miles, you will not find a single Cossack.
Pan Danil's farm is between two mountains, in a narrow valley running down to the Dnieper. His mansions are low: the hut looks like that of ordinary Cossacks, and it has one small room; but there is room for him, and his wife, and the old servant, and ten chosen young men. There are oak shelves around the walls at the top. There are a lot of bowls and pots for eating on them. Among them there are silver cups and glasses set in gold, donated and won in war. Expensive muskets, sabers, squeaks, and spears hang below. Willingly or unwillingly, they moved from the Tatars, Turks and Poles; a lot of them are memorized. Looking at them, Pan Danilo seemed to remember his contractions by the icons. Under the wall, below, there are smooth hewn oak benches. Near them, in front of the couch, hangs a cradle on ropes threaded into a ring screwed to the ceiling. In the entire room the floor is smooth and greased with clay. Master Danilo sleeps on the benches with his wife. There is an old maid on the couch. A small child is amused and lulled into sleep in a cradle. The fellows spend the night sleeping on the floor. But it is better for a Cossack to sleep on smooth ground with a free sky; he doesn’t need a down jacket or a feather bed; he puts fresh hay under his head and stretches out freely on the grass. It is fun for him to wake up in the middle of the night, look at the high, star-studded sky and shiver from the night cold, which brought freshness to the Cossack bones. Stretching and muttering through his sleep, he lights the cradle and wraps himself tighter in the warm casing.
Not early did Burulbash wake up after yesterday's fun and, waking up, sat down in the corner on a bench and began to sharpen the new Turkish saber he had exchanged; and Mrs. Katerina began to embroider a silk towel in gold. Suddenly Katerina’s father came in, angry, frowning, with an overseas cradle in his teeth, approached his daughter and sternly began to question her: what was the reason for her returning home so late.
About these matters, father-in-law, don’t ask her, but me! It is not the wife, but the husband who answers. It’s already like this with us, don’t be angry! - Danilo said, without leaving his work. - Maybe this doesn’t happen in other infidel lands - I don’t know.
Color appeared on the father-in-law's stern face and his eyes flashed wildly.
Who else, if not the father, should look after his daughter! - he muttered to himself. - Well, I’m asking you: where were you hanging around until late at night?
But this is the case, dear father-in-law! To this I will tell you that I have long since become one of those people whom women swaddle. I know how to sit on a horse. I can hold a sharp saber in my hands. I know something else... I know how to not give anyone an answer for what I do.
I see, Danilo, I know you want a quarrel! Whoever is hiding probably has an evil deed on his mind.
“Think to yourself what you want,” said Danilo, “and I think to myself.” Thank God, I haven’t been involved in any dishonorable business yet; He always stood for the Orthodox faith and the fatherland, not like other vagabonds who wander around God knows where, when the Orthodox are fighting to the death, and then they come to clean up the crops that were not sown by them. They don’t even look like Uniates: they won’t look into God’s church. Such people should be interrogated in order to find out where they are hanging around.
Eh, Cossack! Do you know... I’m a bad shooter: in just a hundred fathoms my bullet pierces the heart. I chop unenviably: what remains from a person are pieces smaller than grains, from which they cook porridge.
“I’m ready,” said Pan Danilo, briskly crossing his saber in the air, as if he knew what he had sharpened it for.
- Danilo! - Katerina screamed loudly, grabbing his hand and hanging on it. - Remember, you madman, look at whom you are raising your hand to! Father, your hair is as white as snow, and you are flushed like a foolish lad!
Wife! - Pan Danilo shouted menacingly, “you know, I don’t like this.” Mind your woman's business!
The sabers made a terrible sound; iron chopped iron, and the Cossacks showered themselves with sparks, like dust. Katerina went into a special room crying, threw herself into bed and covered her ears so as not to hear the saber blows. But the Cossacks did not fight so badly that their blows could be muffled. Her heart wanted to break into pieces. All over her body she heard sounds passing through: knock, knock. “No, I can’t stand it, I can’t stand it... Maybe scarlet blood is already gushing out of the white body. Maybe now my dear is exhausted; and I’m lying here!” And all pale, barely catching her breath, she entered the hut.
The Cossacks fought evenly and terribly. Neither one nor the other prevails. Here comes Katerina's father - Pan Danilo is served. Pan Danilo comes - the stern father moves in, and again on an equal footing. Boiling. They swung... wow! the sabers are ringing... and, rattling, the blades fly off to the side.
Thank you, God! - said Katerina and screamed again when she saw that the Cossacks took up their muskets. We adjusted the flints and cocked the hammers.
Pan Danilo fired, but didn’t hit. The father took aim... He is old; he does not see as vigilantly as the young man, but his hand does not tremble. The shot rang out... Pan Danilo staggered. Scarlet blood stained the left sleeve of the Cossack zhupan.
No! - he shouted, - I won’t sell myself so cheaply. Not the left hand, but the right chieftain. I have a Turkish pistol hanging on my wall; He has never cheated on me in his entire life. Get off the wall, old comrade! show your friend a favor! - Danilo extended his hand.
Danilo! - Katerina screamed in despair, grabbing his hands and throwing herself at his feet. - I’m not praying for myself. I have only one end: that unworthy wife who lives after her husband; The Dnieper, the cold Dnieper will be my grave... But look at your son, Danilo, look at your son! Who will warm the poor child? Who will take care of him? Who will teach him to fly on a black horse, fight for his will and faith, drink and walk like a Cossack? Get lost, my son, get lost! Your father doesn't want to know you! Look how he turns away his face. ABOUT! I know you now! you are a beast, not a man! You have the heart of a wolf, and the soul of a crafty reptile. I thought that you had a drop of pity, that human feeling was burning in your stone body. I was terribly deceived. This will bring you joy. Your bones will dance in the grave with joy when they hear how the wicked beasts of the Poles will throw your son into the flames, when your son will scream under knives and sprinkles. Oh, I know you! You would be glad to get up from the coffin and fan the fire swirling under him with your hat!
Wait, Katerina! Go, my beloved Ivan, I will kiss you! No, my child, no one will touch your hair. You will grow up to be the glory of your homeland; You will fly like a whirlwind in front of the Cossacks, with a velvet cap on your head, with a sharp saber in your hand. Give me your hand, father! Let's forget what happened between us. What I did wrong in front of you - I apologize. Why don't you give your hand? - Danilo said to Katerina’s father, who stood in one place, expressing neither anger nor reconciliation on his face.
Father! - Katerina cried, hugging and kissing him. - Don’t be unforgiving, forgive Danil: he won’t upset you anymore!
For you only, my daughter, I forgive! - he answered, kissing her and flashing his strange eyes. Katerina shuddered a little: both the kiss and the strange sparkle of the eyes seemed wonderful to her. She leaned her elbows on the table on which Mr. Danilo was bandaging his wounded hand, thinking about what he had done badly and not like a Cossack, asking for forgiveness without being guilty of anything.
The day flashed, but not sunny: the sky was gloomy and a thin rain fell on the fields, on the forests, on the wide Dnieper. Mrs. Katerina woke up, but not joyful: her eyes were teary, and she was all vague and restless.
My dear husband, dear husband, I had a wonderful dream!
What a dream, my dear Mrs. Katerina?
I dreamed, truly, wonderfully, and so vividly, as if in reality, I dreamed that my father was the same freak we saw at the captain’s house. But please, don't believe the dream. You won't see such nonsense! It was as if I was standing in front of him, trembling all over, afraid, and my veins groaned from his every word. If you had heard what he said...
What did he say, my golden Katerina?
He said: “Look at me, Katerina, I’m good! People say in vain that I am stupid. I will be a glorious husband to you. Look how I look with my eyes!” Then he turned his fiery eyes on me, I screamed and woke up.
Yes, dreams tell a lot of truth. However, do you know that behind the mountain it’s not so calm? Almost the Poles began to peek out again. Gorobets sent me to tell me not to sleep. In vain only he cares; I don't sleep anyway. My boys cut down twelve fences that night. We will treat the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth with lead plums, and the nobles will dance from the batogs.
Does your father know about this?
Your father is sitting on my neck! I still can't figure it out. It is true that he committed many sins in a foreign land. Well, in fact, for the reason: he lives for about a month and at least once had fun, like a good Cossack! I didn't want to drink honey! Do you hear, Katerina, I didn’t want to drink the mead that I cowardly got from the Krestovsky Jews. Hey lad! - Pan Danilo shouted. - Run, little one, to the cellar and bring some Jewish honey! He doesn’t even drink burners! what an abyss! It seems to me, Mrs. Katerina, that he doesn’t believe in the Lord Christ either. A? what do you think?
God knows what you are saying, Mr. Danilo!
Wonderful, sir! - continued Danilo, accepting a clay mug from the Cossack, - filthy Catholics are even greedy for vodka; Only the Turks don’t drink. What, Stetsko, drank a lot of honey in the basement?
I just tried it, sir!
You're lying, son of a dog! look how the flies attacked the mustache! I can see in my eyes that half a bucket was enough. Eh, Cossacks! what a dashing people! Everything is ready for your comrade, and he will dry the intoxicating stuff himself. I, Mrs. Katerina, have been drunk for a long time. A?
That's a long time ago! and last year...
Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, I won't drink another mug! And here comes the Turkish abbot, breaking through the door! - he said through clenched teeth, seeing his father-in-law bending down to enter the door.
What is this, my daughter! - said the father, taking off his hat from his head and adjusting the belt on which hung the saber with wonderful stones, - the sun is already high, and your lunch is not ready.
Lunch is ready, sir, let's put it on now! Take out the pot of dumplings! - Mrs. Katerina said to the old servant who was wiping the wooden dishes. “Wait, I’d better take it out myself,” Katerina continued, “and you call the boys.”
Everyone sat down on the floor in a circle: Mr. Father opposite the corner, on the left hand Mr. Danilo, on the right hand Ms. Katerina and ten most faithful young men in blue and yellow zhupans.
I don't like these dumplings! - said the father, having eaten a little and putting down the spoon, - there is no taste!
“I know that you’d rather have Jewish noodles,” Danilo thought to himself.
Why, father-in-law,” he continued aloud, “do you say that there is no taste in dumplings?” Badly made, or what? My Katerina makes dumplings in such a way that even the hetman rarely gets to eat them. And there is nothing to disdain about them. This is a Christian dish! All the holy people and saints of God ate dumplings.
Not a word father; Pan Danilo also fell silent.
They served fried wild boar with cabbage and plums.
I don't like pork! - said Katerina’s father, scooping up the cabbage with a spoon.
Why not love pork? - said Danilo. - Only Turks and Jews do not eat pork.
The father frowned even more sternly.
The old father ate only one lemishka with milk, and instead of vodka, he drank some black water from the flask that was in his bosom.
After dinner, Danilo fell into a good sleep and woke up only around evening. He sat down and began to write letters to the Cossack army; and Mrs. Katerina began to rock the cradle with her foot, sitting on the couch. Pan Danilo is sitting, looking at the writing with his left eye and out the window with his right. And from the window the mountains and the Dnieper sparkle far away. Beyond the Dnieper the forests turn blue. The clearing night sky flashes from above. But it is not the distant sky or the blue forest that Pan Danilo admires: he looks at the protruding cape on which the old castle looms. It seemed to him as if a narrow window in the castle flashed with fire. But everything is quiet. It probably seemed that way to him. You can only hear the dull roar of the Dnieper below and from three sides, one after another, the blows of instantly awakened waves. He doesn't rebel. He, like an old man, grumbles and complains; everything is not nice to him; everything changed around him; he quietly quarrels with the coastal mountains, forests, meadows and brings a complaint against them to the Black Sea.
A boat appeared black along the wide Dnieper, and something seemed to flash in the castle again. Danilo whistled quietly, and the faithful lad ran out to the whistle.
Take with you, Stetsko, a sharp saber and a rifle, and follow me!
You are walking? - asked Mrs. Katerina.
I'm coming, wife. We need to inspect all the places to see if everything is in order.
However, I am afraid to be alone. I'm getting sleepy. What if I dream the same thing? I’m not even sure if it was really a dream - it happened so vividly.
The old woman stays with you; and the Cossacks are sleeping in the hallway and in the yard!
The old woman is already asleep, but the Cossacks can’t believe it. Listen, Mr. Danilo, lock me in the room and take the key with you. Then I won’t be so scared; and let the Cossacks lie down in front of the doors.
- So be it! - said Danilo, wiping the dust from the rifle and pouring gunpowder onto the shelf.
Faithful Stetsko was already standing dressed in all his Cossack harness. Danilo put on his smush cap, closed the window, bolted the door, locked it and quietly walked out of the yard, between his sleeping Cossacks, into the mountains.
The sky has almost completely cleared. A fresh wind blew a little from the Dnieper. If the moaning of a seagull had not been heard from afar, everything would have seemed numb. But then I thought I heard a rustling sound... Burulbash and his faithful servant quietly hid behind the thorn bushes that covered the cut-down tree. Someone in a red jacket, with two pistols and a saber at his side, was descending from the mountain.
This is the father-in-law! - said Mr. Danilo, looking at him from behind a bush. - Why and where should he go at this time? Stetsko! Don’t yawn, look with both eyes where Father will take the road. - The man in the red zhupan went down to the very shore and turned towards the protruding cape. - A! that's where to go! - said Mr. Danilo. - What, Stetsko, he just dragged himself to the sorcerer’s hollow.
Yes, that’s right, no other place, Mr. Danilo! otherwise we would have seen him on the other side. But he disappeared near the castle.
Wait, let's get out, and then follow the tracks. There's something hiding here. No, Katerina, I told you that your father is an unkind man; He didn’t do everything like an Orthodox Christian.
Pan Danilo and his faithful lad had already glimpsed on the protruding bank. Now they are no longer visible. The dense forest surrounding the castle hid them. The upper window lit up quietly. The Cossacks are standing below and thinking about how to get in. Neither gates nor doors are visible. There is probably a way from the yard; but how to enter there? From a distance you can hear chains rattling and dogs running.
What am I thinking for a long time! - said Pan Danilo, seeing a tall oak tree in front of the window. - Stay here, little one! I will climb the oak tree; You can look straight out the window from it.
Then he took off his belt, threw the saber down so that it wouldn’t ring, and, grabbing the branches, climbed up. The window was still glowing. Sitting down on a branch, right next to the window, he grabbed a tree with his hand and looked: there was not even a candle in the room, but it was shining. There are wonderful signs on the walls. There are weapons hanging, but everything is strange: neither the Turks, nor the Crimeans, nor the Poles, nor the Christians, nor the glorious Swedish people carry anything like this. Bats flash back and forth under the ceiling, and their shadow flickers along the walls, along the doors, along the platform. The door opened without a creak. Someone in a red jacket comes in and goes straight to the table covered with a white tablecloth. “It’s him, it’s father-in-law!” Pan Danilo sank a little lower and pressed himself tighter to the tree.
But he has no time to see whether anyone is looking through the window or not. He arrived gloomy, out of sorts, pulled the tablecloth off the table - and suddenly a transparent blue light quietly spread throughout the room. Only the unmixed waves of the former pale gold shimmered, dived, as if in a blue sea, and stretched out in layers, as if on marble. Then he set the pot down and began throwing some herbs into it.
Pan Danilo began to peer closely and no longer noticed the red zhupan on him; instead, he wore wide trousers, such as the Turks wear; pistols in the belt; on his head is some kind of wonderful hat, covered all over with not Russian or Polish writing. He looked into the face - and the face began to change: the nose stretched out and hung over the lips; the mouth rang to the ears in a minute; a tooth peeked out of his mouth, bent to the side, and the same sorcerer who appeared at the wedding of the captain stood in front of him. “Your dream is true, Katerina!” - thought Burulbash.
The sorcerer began to walk around the table, the signs began to change faster on the wall, and the bats flew faster down and up, back and forth. The blue light became less and less frequent and seemed to go out completely. And the little room was already lit up with a thin pink light. It seemed as if with a quiet ringing a wonderful light was spreading into all corners, and suddenly it disappeared and there was darkness. All that could be heard was a noise, as if the wind was playing in the quiet hour of the evening, circling across the water mirror, bending the silver willows even lower into the water. And it seemed to Pan Danila that the moon was shining in the little room, the stars were walking, the dark blue sky was flickering vaguely, and the cold of the night air could even smell on his face. And it seemed to Pan Danila (here he began to feel his mustache to see if he was sleeping) that it was no longer the sky in the little room, but his own bedchamber: his Tatar and Turkish sabers were hanging on the wall; there are shelves near the walls, household dishes and utensils on the shelves; there is bread and salt on the table; there is a cradle hanging... but instead of images, scary faces look out; on the couch... but the thickening fog covered everything, and it became dark again. And again, with a wonderful ringing, the whole room was illuminated with pink light, and again the sorcerer stood motionless in his wonderful turban. The sounds became stronger and thicker, the thin pink light became brighter, and something white, like a cloud, blew in the middle of the hut; and it seems to Pan Danila that the cloud is not a cloud, but a woman is standing; But what is it made of: is it woven from thin air? Why does she stand and not touch the ground, and not leaning on anything, and pink light shines through her, and signs flash on the wall? Here she somehow moved her transparent head: her pale blue eyes glowed quietly; her hair curls and falls over her shoulders like light gray fog; the lips turn pale red, as if a barely noticeable scarlet light of dawn is pouring through the white-transparent morning sky; eyebrows darken faintly... Ah! This is Katerina! Then Danilo felt that his limbs were fettered; he tried to speak, but his lips moved without sound.
The sorcerer stood motionless in his place.
Where have you been? - he asked, and the woman standing in front of him trembled.
ABOUT! why did you call me? - she moaned quietly. - I was so happy. I was in the very place where I was born and lived for fifteen years. Oh, how nice it is there! How green and fragrant is that meadow where I played as a child: the same wildflowers, and our hut, and the vegetable garden! Oh, how my kind mother hugged me! What love she has in her eyes! She kissed me, kissed my mouth and cheeks, combed my brown braid with a fine comb...
Father! - here she fixed her pale eyes on the sorcerer, - why did you kill my mother?
The sorcerer shook his finger threateningly.
Did I ask you to talk about this? - And the airy beauty trembled. - Where is your lady now?
My lady, Katerina, now fell asleep, and I was glad that I took off and flew. I have long wanted to see my mother. I suddenly became fifteen years old. I became as light as a bird. Why did you call me?
Do you remember everything that I told you yesterday? - the sorcerer asked so quietly that one could barely hear him.
I remember, I remember; but what would I not give to just forget it! Poor Katerina! she does not know much of what her soul knows.
“This is Katerina’s soul,” thought Pan Danilo; but still did not dare to move.
Repent, father! Isn't it scary that after every murder of yours, the dead rise from their graves?
You're back to your old ways! - the sorcerer interrupted menacingly. “I’ll put my money where my mouth is, I’ll make you do what I want.” Katerina will love me!..
Oh, you are a monster, not my father! - she moaned. - No, it won’t be your way! True, you have taken with your unclean spells the power to summon a soul and torment it; but only God can force her to do what he pleases. No, Katerina will never, as long as I remain in her body, decide to do something ungodly. Father, the Last Judgment is near! Even if you weren’t my father, you wouldn’t have forced me to cheat on my faithful husband. Even if my husband had not been faithful and sweet to me, I would not have cheated on him, because God does not love perjured and unfaithful souls.
Then she fixed her pale eyes on the window under which Mr. Danilo was sitting, and stopped motionless...
Where are you looking? Who do you see there? - the sorcerer shouted.
Airy Katerina trembled. But Pan Danilo had already been on earth for a long time and was making his way with his faithful Stetsk to his mountains. “Scary, scary!” - he said to himself, feeling some kind of timidity in the Cossack heart, and soon passed his yard, in which the Cossacks were sleeping just as soundly, except for one, who was sitting on guard and smoking a cradle. The sky was all seeded with stars.
- How good you did to wake me up! - said Katerina, wiping her eyes with the embroidered sleeve of her shirt and looking at her husband standing in front of her from head to toe. - What a terrible dream I had! How hard my chest was breathing! Wow!.. It seemed to me that I was dying...
What a dream, isn't it this? - And Burulbash began to tell his wife everything he had seen.
How did you know this, my husband? - asked Katerina, amazed. - But no, I don’t know much of what you say. No, I did not dream that my father would kill my mother; I didn’t see any dead people or anything. No, Danilo, that's not what you're saying. Oh, how terrible my father is!
And it’s no wonder that you haven’t seen much. You don't know even a tenth of what the soul knows. Do you know that your father is the Antichrist? Last year, when I was going together with the Poles against the Crimeans (at that time I was still holding the hand of this unfaithful people), the abbot of the Brotherly Monastery told me - he, his wife, a holy man - that the Antichrist has the power to summon the soul of every person; and the soul walks of its own free will when he falls asleep, and flies with the archangels near God’s room. I didn't see your father's face at first. If I had known that you had such a father, I would not have married you; I would have abandoned you and would not have accepted the sin on my soul by intermarrying with the Antichrist tribe.
Danilo! - said Katerina, covering her face with her hands and sobbing, - am I guilty of anything before you? Have I cheated on you, my dear husband? What brought about your anger? Didn't I serve you right? did she say a nasty word when you were tossing and turning tipsy from a great party? Didn’t she give birth to a black-browed son?..
Don’t cry, Katerina, I know you now and I won’t leave you for anything. All sins lie on your father.
No, don't call him my father! He is not my father. God knows, I renounce him, I renounce my father! He is the Antichrist, an apostate! If he disappears, if he drowns, I won’t offer my hand to save him. If he were to dry from the secret grass, I would not give him water to drink. You are my father!
In the deep basement of Mr. Danil, behind three locks, sits a sorcerer shackled in iron chains; and far away above the Dnieper his demonic castle is burning, and scarlet, like blood, waves slurp and crowd around the ancient walls. It is not for witchcraft and not for ungodly deeds that the sorcerer sits in a deep basement: God is their judge; He is imprisoned for secret betrayal, for conspiring with the enemies of the Orthodox Russian land - to sell the Ukrainian people to Catholics and burn down Christian churches. Sullen sorcerer; a thought as black as night is in his head. He only has one day left to live, and tomorrow it’s time to say goodbye to the world. Tomorrow awaits his execution. Not an entirely easy execution awaits him; it is still a mercy when they boil him alive in a cauldron or tear off his sinful skin. The sorcerer is gloomy and hangs his head. Perhaps he is already repenting before the hour of death, but his sins are not such that God will forgive him. At the top in front of him is a narrow window interlaced with iron rods. Rattling his chains, he walked to the window to see if his daughter would pass by. She is meek, not malicious, like a dove, will she have mercy on her father... But there is no one. The road runs below; no one will pass through it. The Dnieper walks below it; he doesn’t care about anyone: he rages, and the prisoner is sad to hear his monotonous noise.
Someone appeared along the road - it was a Cossack! And the prisoner sighed heavily. Everything is empty again. Someone is descending in the distance... A green kuntush is fluttering... a golden boat is burning on her head... It’s her! He leaned even closer to the window. It's already getting close...
Katerina! daughter! have mercy, give alms!..
She is mute, she doesn’t want to listen, she won’t even lay an eye on the prison, and she has already passed, has already disappeared. Empty all over the world. The Dnieper rustles sadly. Sadness lies in the heart. But does the sorcerer know this sadness?
The day is approaching evening. The sun has already set. He is no longer there. It’s already evening: fresh; somewhere an ox is lowing; Sounds are coming from somewhere - probably somewhere people are coming home from work and having fun; A boat flashes along the Dnieper... who cares about the convict! A silver sickle flashed in the sky. Someone is coming from the opposite direction along the road. Difficult to see in the dark. This is Katerina returning.
Daughter, for Christ's sake! and ferocious wolf cubs will not tear their mother and daughter, although look at their criminal father! - She doesn’t listen and goes. - Daughter, for the sake of the unfortunate mother!... - She stopped. - Come accept my last word!
- Why are you calling me, apostate? Don't call me daughter! There is no relationship between us. What do you want from me for the sake of my unfortunate mother?
Katerina! The end is close to me: I know that your husband wants to tie me to a mare’s tail and send me across the field, and maybe he’ll even invent a most terrible execution...
Is there any punishment in the world equal to your sins? Wait for her; no one will ask for you.
Katerina! It’s not execution that scares me, but torment in the next world... You are innocent, Katerina, your soul will fly in heaven near God; and the soul of your apostate father will burn in eternal fire, and that fire will never go out: it will flare up stronger and stronger: no one will drop a drop of dew, not the wind will smell...
“I have no power to diminish this execution,” said Katerina, turning away.
Katerina! stand by one word: you can save my soul. You don’t yet know how kind and merciful God is. Have you heard about the Apostle Paul, what a sinful man he was, but then he repented and became a saint.
What can I do to save your soul? - said Katerina, - should I, a weak woman, think about this!
If I could get out of here, I would give up everything. I will repent: I will go to the caves, put a stiff hair shirt on my body, and pray to God day and night. Not only modest, I won’t put fish in my mouth! I won’t put my clothes on when I go to sleep! and I will keep praying, keep praying! And when God’s mercy does not remove even a hundredth part of my sins, I will bury myself up to my neck in the ground or wall myself up in a stone wall; I will take neither food nor drink and die; and I will give all my goods to the monks, so that for forty days and forty nights they will hold a memorial service for me.
Katerina thought.
Although I will unlock it, I cannot unchain your chains.
“I’m not afraid of chains,” he said. - Are you saying that they shackled my hands and feet? No, I put fog in their eyes and held out a dry tree instead of a hand. Here I am, look, I don’t have a single chain on me now! - he said, going out to the middle. “I wouldn’t be afraid of these walls and would walk through them, but your husband doesn’t even know what kind of walls these are.” They were built by the holy schema-monk, and no evil spirit can take the convict out of here without unlocking it with the same key with which the saint locked his cell. I, an unheard-of sinner, will dig the same cell for myself when I am released.
Listen, I'll let you out; but if you are deceiving me,” said Katerina, stopping in front of the door, “and, instead of repenting, you will again become a brother to the devil?”
No, Katerina, I don’t have long to live anymore. My end is near without execution. Do you really think that I will betray myself to eternal torment?
The locks rattled.
Goodbye! God bless you, my child! - said the sorcerer, kissing her.
Don’t touch me, unheard of sinner, go away quickly!.. - said Katerina. But he was no longer there.
“I let him out,” she said, frightened and looking wildly around the walls. - How will I answer my husband now? - I'm missing. Now all I have to do is bury myself in a grave alive! - and, bursting into tears, she almost fell on the stump on which the convict was sitting. “But I saved my soul,” she said quietly. - I did a godly deed. But my husband... I deceived him for the first time. Oh, how scary, how difficult it will be for me to tell a lie in front of him. Someone's coming! It is he! husband! - she screamed desperately and fell unconscious to the ground.
- It’s me, my own daughter! It's me, my heart! - Katerina heard, waking up, and saw an old servant in front of her. The woman, leaning over, seemed to be whispering something and, stretching out her withered hand over her, sprinkled her with cold water.
Where I am? - Katerina said, getting up and looking around. - The Dnieper is rustling in front of me, the mountains are behind me... where have you taken me, woman?
I didn’t bring you in, but took you out; carried me out of the stuffy basement in my arms. I locked it with a key so that you wouldn’t get anything from Mr. Danil.
Where's the key? - said Katerina, looking at her belt. - I do not see him.
Your husband untied him to look at the sorcerer, my child.
Should I take a look?.. Baba, I'm lost! - Katerina screamed.
May God have mercy on us from this, my child! Just be quiet, my lady, no one will know anything!
He ran away, damn Antichrist! Did you hear, Katerina? he ran away! - said Pan Danilo, approaching his wife. The eyes were throwing fire; the saber, ringing, shook at his side.
The wife died.
Did someone let him out, my dear husband? - she said, trembling.
Released, your truth; but the devil let him out. Look, instead of it, the log is forged in iron. God made it so that the devil is not afraid of the Cossack paws! If only one of my Cossacks had thought about this in his head and I had found out... I wouldn’t even have found an execution for him!
“What if I?..” Katerina involuntarily said and, frightened, stopped.
If you had your way, then you would not be my wife. I would then sew you into a sack and drown you in the very middle of the Dnieper!..
Katerina’s spirit took over, and it seemed to her that the hair on her head began to separate.
On the border road, in a tavern, the Poles have gathered and have been feasting for two days. Something a lot of all the bastards. They probably agreed on some kind of raid: some had muskets; Spurs clink, sabers clink. The gentlemen are having fun and boasting, talking about their unprecedented deeds, mocking Orthodoxy, calling the Ukrainian people their slaves and twirling their mustaches importantly, and with their heads raised, they are lounging on benches. The priest is with them. Only their priest is like their own, and in appearance he doesn’t even look like a Christian priest: he drinks and walks with them and speaks shameful speeches in his wicked tongue. The servants are in no way inferior to them: they have thrown back the sleeves of their torn zhupans and are playing trump cards, as if it were something worthwhile. They play cards, hitting each other on the nose with cards. They took other people's wives with them. Scream, fight!.. 
The gentlemen go berserk and do things: they grab the Jew by the beard, paint a cross on his wicked forehead; They shoot the women with blank charges and dance the Krakowiak with their wicked priest. There has never been such a temptation on Russian soil and from the Tatars. Apparently, God has already determined for her to endure such shame for her sins! In the midst of the general sodomy, you can hear people talking about the Trans-Dnieper farm of Pan Danil, about his beautiful wife... This gang has not gathered for a good cause!
Pan Danilo sits at the table in his little room, leaning on his elbow, and thinks. Mrs. Katerina is sitting on the couch and singing a song.
- I’m sad for some reason, my wife! - said Mr. Danilo. - And my head hurts, and my heart hurts. It's kind of hard for me! Apparently, my death is already walking somewhere nearby.
“Oh my beloved husband! bury your head in me! Why do you entertain such dark thoughts to yourself,” thought Katerina, but did not dare to say. It was bitter for her, guilty of her head, to accept man's caresses.
Listen, my wife! - said Danilo, - don’t leave your son when I’m gone. There will be no happiness for you from God if you abandon him, neither in this nor in this world. It will be hard for my bones to rot in the damp earth; and it will be even harder for my soul.
What are you saying, my husband! Wasn't it you who mocked us, weak wives? And now you sound like a weak wife. You still have a long time to live.
No, Katerina, the soul senses imminent death. Something is becoming sad in the world. Hard times are coming. Oh, I remember, I remember the years; They probably won’t come back! He was still alive, honor and glory to our army, old Konashevich! It’s as if Cossack regiments are now passing before my eyes! It was a golden time, Katerina! The old hetman was sitting on a black horse. The mace glittered in his hand; Serdyuki around; the red sea of the Cossacks moved on all sides. The hetman began to speak - and everything stood rooted to the spot. The old man began to cry as he began to remember our previous deeds and battles. Oh, if you only knew, Katerina, how we fought with the Turks back then! The scar is still visible on my head to this day. Four bullets flew through me in four places. And none of the wounds healed completely. How much gold we collected then! The Cossacks scooped up expensive stones with their caps. What horses, Katerina, if you only knew what horses we stole then! Oh, I can’t fight like that anymore! It seems that he is not old, and his body is vigorous; and the Cossack sword falls out of my hands, I live without anything to do, and I myself don’t know why I live. There is no order in Ukraine: colonels and captains squabble among themselves like dogs. There is no elder head over everyone. Our nobility changed everything to the Polish custom, adopted cunning... sold its soul by accepting union. Judaism oppresses the poor people. O time, time! past time! Where have you gone, my summers?.. Go, little one, to the basement, bring me a cup of honey! I'll drink to the old share and to the old years!
How will we receive guests, sir? The Poles are coming from the meadow side! - said Stetsko, entering the hut.
“I know why they are coming,” Danilo said, getting up from his seat. - Saddle up, my faithful servants, your horses! put on your harness! sabers drawn! Don't forget to collect lead oatmeal as well. You need to greet your guests with honor!
But before the Cossacks had time to mount their horses and load their muskets, the Poles, like a leaf falling from a tree to the ground in autumn, dotted the mountain.
Eh, yes there is someone to talk to! - said Danilo, looking at the fat gentlemen, swung importantly in front on horses in golden harness. - Apparently, we’ll have a great time again! You'll get tired, Cossack soul, for the last time! Take a walk, boys, our holiday has come!
And the fun went through the mountains, and the feast closed: swords walk, bullets fly, horses neigh and trample. The screaming makes your head go crazy; The smoke makes your eyes blind. Everything was mixed up. But the Cossack senses where friend is and where foe is; If a bullet makes a noise, the dashing rider will fall off his horse; the saber whistles - the head rolls on the ground, muttering incoherent speeches with its tongue.
But the red top of Pan Danil’s Cossack cap is visible in the crowd; a golden belt on a blue zhupan catches your eye; The mane of a black horse curls like a whirlwind. Like a bird, he flits here and there; shouts and waves his Damascus saber and cuts from the right and left shoulders. Rub, Cossack! walk, Cossack! amuse your brave heart; but don’t look at the golden harnesses and zhupans! trample gold and stones under your feet! Koli, Cossack! walk, Cossack! but look back: the wicked Poles are already setting fire to the huts and driving away the frightened cattle. And like a whirlwind, Pan Danilo turned back, and a hat with a red top flashed near the huts, and the crowd around him thinned out.
Not an hour, not another, the Poles and Cossacks fight. There are not many of both. But Pan Danilo does not get tired: he knocks people off the saddle with his long spear, and tramples the foot soldiers with his dashing horse. The courtyard is already being cleared, the Poles have already begun to scatter; The Cossacks are already stripping the golden zhupans and rich harness from the dead; Pan Danilo was already getting ready to give chase, and looked to call his people... and he began to boil with rage: Katerina’s father appeared to him. Here he is standing on the mountain and aiming a musket at him. Danilo drove his horse straight towards him... Cossack, you are going to your death... The musket rattles - and the sorcerer disappeared behind the mountain. Only the faithful Stetsko saw the flash of red clothes and a wonderful hat. The Cossack staggered and fell to the ground. Faithful Stetsko rushed to his master; his master lay stretched out on the ground and closed his clear eyes. Scarlet blood boiled on his chest. But, apparently, he sensed his faithful servant. He quietly raised his eyelids and flashed his eyes: “Goodbye, Stetsko! tell Katerina not to leave her son! Do not leave him either, my faithful servants!” - and fell silent. The Cossack soul flew out of the noble body; lips turned blue. The Cossack sleeps soundly.
The faithful servant began to sob and waved his hand to Katerina: “Go, lady, go: your gentleman has been playing tricks. He lies drunk on the damp ground. It won’t take him long to sober up!”
Katerina clasped her hands and fell like a sheaf onto the dead body. “My husband, are you lying here with your eyes closed? Arise, my beloved falcon, stretch out your hand! rise up! look at your Katerina at least once, move your lips, say at least one word... But you are silent, you are silent, my clear sir! You turned blue like the Black Sea. Your heart doesn't beat! Why are you so cold, my sir? Apparently, my tears are not hot, they cannot warm you! Apparently my crying is not loud, it won’t wake you up! Who will lead your regiments now? Who will rush on your black horse, whoop loudly and wave his saber in front of the Cossacks? Cossacks, Cossacks! where is your honor and glory? Your honor and glory lies with your eyes closed on the damp ground. Bury me, bury me with him! cover my eyes with earth! press maple boards onto my white breasts! I don’t need my beauty anymore!”
Katerina cries and is killed; and the distance is all covered with dust: old captain Gorobets is galloping to the rescue.
The Dnieper is wonderful in calm weather, when its full waters freely and smoothly rush through forests and mountains. Not a stir; it won't thunder. You look and don’t know whether its majestic width goes or doesn’t go, and it seems as if it is all made of glass, and as if a blue mirror road, immeasurably wide, endlessly long, hovers and winds through the green world. It’s nice then for the hot sun to look around from above and plunge its rays into the cold glassy waters and for the coastal forests to shine brightly in the waters. Green-haired ones! They crowd together with wildflowers to the waters and, bending down, look into them and can’t get enough of their bright eyes, and grin at him, and greet him, nodding their branches. They do not dare to look into the middle of the Dnieper: no one looks into it except the sun and the blue sky. A rare bird will fly to the middle of the Dnieper. Lush! there is no equal river in the world. The Dnieper is wonderful even on a warm summer night, when everything falls asleep - man, beast, and bird; and God alone majestically looks around the sky and earth and majestically shakes the robe. Stars are falling from the robe. The stars burn and shine over the world and all at once echo in the Dnieper. The Dnieper holds them all in its dark bosom. Not one will escape from him; will it go out in the sky? The black forest, studded with sleeping crows, and the anciently broken mountains, hanging down, try to cover it with their long shadow - in vain! There is nothing in the world that could cover the Dnieper. Blue, blue, he walks in a smooth flow and in the middle of the night, as in the middle of the day; visible as far as the human eye can see. Basking and snuggling closer to the shores from the night cold, it gives off a silver stream; and it flashes like the stripe of a Damascus saber; and he, blue, fell asleep again. The Dnieper is wonderful even then, and there is no river equal to it in the world! When blue clouds roll across the sky like mountains, the black forest staggers to its roots, the oak trees crack and lightning, breaking between the clouds, illuminates the whole world at once - then the Dnieper is terrible! The water hills thunder, hitting the mountains, and with a shine and a groan they run back, and cry, and flood in the distance. This is how the old Cossack mother is killed, escorting her son to the army. Reckless and cheerful, he rides on a black horse, with his arms akimbo and his cap valiantly cocked; and she, sobbing, runs after him, grabs him by the stirrup, catches the bit, and wrings her hands over him, and bursts into burning tears.
Burnt stumps and stones on the protruding shore grow wildly black between the crashing waves. And the landing boat hits the shore, rising up and falling down. Which of the Cossacks dared to walk in a canoe at a time when the old Dnieper was angry? Apparently, he doesn’t know that he swallows people like flies.
The boat docked, and the sorcerer got out of it. He is sad; He is bitter about the funeral feast that the Cossacks performed over their murdered lord. The Poles paid a lot: forty-four gentlemen with all their harness and zhupans and thirty-three slaves were cut into pieces; and the rest, along with their horses, were taken captive to be sold to the Tatars.
He went down the stone steps, between the charred stumps, down to where, deep in the ground, he had dug a dugout. He entered quietly, without opening the door, placed a pot on the table, covered with a tablecloth, and began to throw some unknown herbs with his long hands; He took a bowl made of some wonderful wood, scooped up water with it and began to pour it, moving his lips and casting some spells. A pink light appeared in the little room; and it was scary to look into his face then: it seemed bloody, the deep wrinkles only turned black on it, and his eyes were like they were on fire. Unholy sinner! his beard has long since turned grey, his face is full of wrinkles, and he’s dried up all over, but he’s still working his ungodly intentions. A white cloud began to blow in the middle of the hut, and something similar to joy flashed into his face. But why did he suddenly become motionless, with his mouth open, not daring to move, and why did the hair rise like stubble on his head? Someone’s wonderful face shone in the cloud in front of him. Uninvited, uninvited, it came to visit him; the further, more became clear and fixed eyes fixed on him. His features, eyebrows, eyes, lips - everything is unfamiliar to him. He had never seen him in his entire life. And there seems to be little terrible in him, but an irresistible horror attacked him. And the unfamiliar, wondrous head looked at him just as motionless through the cloud. The cloud has already disappeared; and unknown features showed themselves even more sharply, and sharp eyes did not take their eyes off him. The sorcerer turned white as a sheet. He screamed wildly, in a voice that was not his own, and knocked over the pot... Everything was lost.
- Calm yourself, my dear sister! - said old captain Gorobets. - Dreams rarely tell the truth.
Lie down, sister! - said his young daughter-in-law. - I’ll call the old woman, a witch; no force can stand against it. She'll pour out the commotion to you.
Do not be afraid of anything! - said his son, grabbing his saber, - no one will hurt you.
Katerina looked at everyone with cloudy eyes and was speechless. “I brought about my own destruction. I released him." Finally she said:
I have no peace from him! I have been with you in Kyiv for ten days now; but the grief did not diminish one bit. I thought that I would at least raise my son in silence to take revenge... I saw him in my dream, terrible, terrible! God forbid you to see it too! My heart is still beating. “I will kill your child, Katerina,” he shouted, “if you don’t marry me!..” - and, sobbing, she rushed to the cradle, and the frightened child stretched out her hands and screamed.
The son of Esaul seethed and sparkled with anger, hearing such speeches.
Captain Gorobets himself also differed:
Let him, the damned Antichrist, try to come here; will taste whether there is power in the hands of an old Cossack. God knows,” he said, raising his clairvoyant eyes upward, “wasn’t I flying to give my brother Danil a hand? His holy will! I found him already on a cold bed, on which many, many Cossack people were lying down. But wasn’t the funeral service for him magnificent? Have they released at least one Poles alive? Calm down, my child! no one will dare to offend you, except for me and my son.
Having finished his words, the old captain came to the cradle, and the child, seeing a red cradle and a hamman with a shiny flint hanging on his belt in a silver frame, stretched out his little hands to him and laughed.
It will follow his father,” said the old captain, taking off the cradle and giving it to him, “he hasn’t left the cradle yet, but he’s already thinking about smoking the cradle.
Katerina sighed quietly and began rocking the cradle. They agreed to spend the night together, and soon everyone fell asleep. Katerina also fell asleep.
Everything was quiet in the yard and in the hut; Only the Cossacks who stood guard were awake. Suddenly Katerina, screaming, woke up, and everyone woke up after her. “He’s killed, he’s stabbed to death!” - she screamed and rushed to the cradle.
Everyone surrounded the cradle and became petrified with fear when they saw that there was a lifeless child lying in it. Not a single sound was uttered by any of them, not knowing what to think about the unheard-of crime.
Far from the Ukrainian region, having passed through Poland, passing the populous city of Lemberg, there are rows of high-topped mountains. Mountain after mountain, like stone chains, they throw the earth to the right and left and bind it with a layer of stone so that the noisy and violent sea does not suck it out. Stone chains are going to Wallachia and the Sedmigrad region and a huge steel structure is formed in the form of a horseshoe between the Galician and Hungarian people. There are no such mountains in our area. The eye does not dare to look around them; and not even a human foot has reached the top of others. Their appearance is also wonderful: was it not the playful sea that ran out of its wide shores in a storm, threw up ugly waves like a whirlwind, and they, petrified, remained motionless in the air? Have heavy clouds fallen from the sky and cluttered the earth? for they have the same gray color, and the white top glitters and sparkles in the sun. Even before the Carpathian Mountains you will hear Russian rumors, and beyond the mountains here and there a word will echo as if it were your own; and then the faith is not the same, and the speech is not the same. The Hungarian people live there; rides horses, chops and drinks no worse than a Cossack; and for horse harnesses and expensive caftans he does not skimp on taking chervonets out of his pocket. There are large and razdolny lakes between the mountains. Like glass, they are motionless and, like a mirror, they reflect the bare peaks of the mountains and their green soles.
But who, in the middle of the night, whether the stars shine or not, rides a huge black horse? What kind of hero with inhuman growth gallops under the mountains, over lakes, is reflected with a gigantic horse in the motionless waters, and his endless shadow flickers terribly across the mountains? The embossed armor shines; on the shoulder of the peak; the saber rattles when saddled; pulled over with a helmet; the mustache turns black; eyes closed; eyelashes are lowered - he is sleeping. And, sleepy, he holds the reins; and behind him sits on the same horse a baby page and also sleeps and, sleepy, clings to the hero. Who is he, where is he going, why is he going? - Who knows. It hasn't been a day or two since he's been crossing the mountains. The day will flash, the sun will rise, it will not be visible; Only occasionally did the mountaineers notice that someone’s long shadow was flickering across the mountains, but the sky was clear, and no clouds would pass across it. As soon as the night brings darkness, he is again visible and reverberates in the lakes, and behind him, trembling, his shadow jumps. He had already passed many mountains and reached Krivan. This mountain is not higher between the Carpathians; like a king she rises above others. Here the horse and rider stopped and fell even deeper into sleep, and the clouds descended and covered it.
“Shh... be quiet, woman! Don't knock like that, my child is asleep. My son cried for a long time, now he is sleeping. I'll go to the forest, woman! Why are you looking at me like that? You are scary: iron pincers are stretching out of your eyes... wow, so long! and burn like fire! You must be a witch! Oh, if you are a witch, then get out of here! you will steal my son. How stupid this captain is: he thinks it’s fun for me to live in Kyiv; no, my husband and son are here, who will look after the house? I left so quietly that neither the cat nor the dog heard. You want, woman, to become young - it’s not difficult at all: you just need to dance; look how I dance...” And, having uttered such incoherent speeches, Katerina was already rushing, looking madly in all directions and resting her hands on her hips. She stamped her feet with a squeal; the silver horseshoes rang without measure, without tact. Unbraided black braids fluttered over her white neck. Like a bird, without stopping, she flew, waving her arms and nodding her head, and it seemed as if, exhausted, she would either crash to the ground or fly out of the world.
The old nanny stood sadly, and her deep wrinkles were filled with tears; a heavy stone lay on the hearts of the faithful lads who looked at their lady. She was already completely weak and lazily stamped her feet in one place, thinking that she was dancing a turtle dove. “And I have monisto, guys! - she said, finally stopping, - but you don’t!.. Where is my husband? - she suddenly cried, snatching a Turkish dagger from her belt. - ABOUT! This is not the kind of knife you need. - At the same time, tears and melancholy appeared on her face. - My father’s heart is far away; he won't reach him. His heart is forged from iron. It was forged by a witch on a burning fire. Why is my father missing? doesn't he know it's time to stab him? Apparently, he wants me to come myself... - And, without finishing, she laughed wonderfully. - A funny story came to mind: I remembered how my husband was buried. After all, they buried him alive... what a laugh took me away!.. Listen, listen!” And instead of words she began to sing a song:
The cart is crooked;
The Cossack lies with the cart,
Post-cutting, chopping.
Hold the dart in your right hand,
That's why it's a bad idea to run away;
The river is crooked.
The sycamore stands above the river,
Above the sycamore the raven is louder.
The mother is crying for the Cossack.
Don't cry, mother, don't fight!
Because your son is already married,
She took the lady's wife,
In a clean poly dugout,
I have no door, no window.
That's the end of the Viyshov's writings.
The fish danced with the crayfish...
Who wouldn’t love me, shaking his mother!
This is how all her songs were mixed up. She has been living in her hut for a day or two already and does not want to hear about Kyiv, and does not pray, and runs away from people, and from morning until late evening wanders through the dark oak groves. Sharp branches scratch the white face and shoulders; the wind flutters the unbraided braids; the ancient leaves rustle under her feet - she doesn’t look at anything. At the hour when the evening dawn is fading, the stars have not yet appeared, the moon is not shining, and it is already scary to walk in the forest: unbaptized children are scratching the trees and grabbing branches, sobbing, laughing, rolling in a club along the roads and in the wide nettles; from the Dnieper waves, maidens who have destroyed their souls run out in lines; hair flows from the green head onto the shoulders, water, murmuring loudly, runs from long hair to the ground, and the maiden glows through the water, as if through a glass shirt; lips smile wonderfully, cheeks glow, eyes lure out the soul... she would burn with love, she would kiss... Run, baptized man! her mouth is ice, her bed is cold water; she will tickle you and drag you into the river. Katerina does not look at anyone, is not afraid, mad, of mermaids, runs late with her knife and looks for her father.
Early in the morning some guest arrived, stately in appearance, in a red zhupan, and inquired about Mr. Danil; hears everything, wipes his tear-stained eyes with his sleeve and shrugs. He fought together with the late Burulbash; they fought together with the Crimeans and Turks; Did he expect such an end for Mr. Danil? The guest also talks about many other things and wants to see Mrs. Katerina.
At first Katerina did not listen to anything the guest said; Finally, like a reasonable person, she began to listen attentively to his speech. He talked about how he and Danil lived together, like brother and brother; how they once hid under the rowing from the Crimeans... Katerina listened to everything and did not take her eyes off him.
“She will go away! - the boys thought, looking at her. - This guest will cure her! She’s already listening like a smart person!”
The guest began to tell the story while Mr. Danilo, in an hour of frank conversation, told him: “Look, brother Kopryan: when by the will of God I am no longer in the world, take a wife to you, and let her be your wife...”
Katerina fixed her eyes on him terribly. "A! - she screamed, “it’s him!” it's father! - and rushed at him with a knife.
He struggled for a long time, trying to snatch the knife from her. Finally he pulled it out, swung it - and a terrible thing happened: the father killed his insane daughter.
The astonished Cossacks rushed at him; but the sorcerer had already jumped on his horse and disappeared from sight.
An unheard-of miracle appeared outside Kyiv. All the lords and hetmans were going to marvel at this miracle: suddenly it became visible far to all ends of the world. In the distance the Liman turned blue, and beyond the Liman the Black Sea overflowed. Experienced people recognized both the Crimea, which rose like a mountain from the sea, and the marshy Sivash. On the left hand the land of Galich was visible.
What is it? - the assembled people interrogated the old people, pointing to the gray and white tops that seemed far away in the sky and looked more like clouds.
Those are the Carpathian Mountains! - said the old people, - among them there are those from whom the snow does not come off for centuries, but the clouds stick and spend the night there.
Then a new miracle appeared: the clouds flew away from the female high mountain, and at its top a man on a horse appeared in all the knight’s harness, with his eyes closed, and was visible as if he were standing close.
Here, among the people marveling in fear, one jumped on his horse and, looking around in wonder, as if searching with his eyes to see if anyone was chasing him, hastily, with all his might, drove his horse. It was a sorcerer. Why was he so scared? Peering with fear at the wonderful knight, he recognized on him the same face that, uninvited, appeared to him when he was casting a spell. He himself could not understand why everything in him was confused at this sight, and, timidly looking around, he raced on his horse until evening overtook him and the stars appeared. Then he turned home, perhaps to interrogate the evil spirits about what such a miracle meant. He was about to jump with his horse over a narrow river, which acted as a branch of the road, when suddenly the horse stopped at full gallop, turned its muzzle towards him and - miraculously, laughed! white teeth flashed terribly in two rows in the darkness. The hairs on the sorcerer's head stood on end. He screamed wildly and cried like a man in a frenzy, and drove his horse straight to Kyiv. It seemed to him that everything was running from all sides to catch him: the trees, surrounded by a dark forest and as if alive, nodding with black beards and stretching out long branches, tried to strangle him; the stars seemed to run ahead in front of him, pointing everyone to the sinner; the road itself, it seemed, was rushing in his wake. The desperate sorcerer flew to Kyiv to the holy places.
The schema-monk sat alone in his cave in front of the lamp and did not take his eyes off the holy book. It has been many years since he shut himself up in his cave. He had already made himself a wooden coffin, in which he went to sleep instead of a bed. The holy elder closed his book and began to pray... Suddenly a man of a wonderful, terrible appearance ran in. The holy schema-monk was amazed for the first time and retreated when he saw such a man. He was trembling all over like an aspen leaf; the eyes squinted wildly; a terrible fire fearfully poured out of his eyes; His ugly face made my soul tremble.
Father, pray! pray! - he shouted desperately, - pray for the lost soul! - and fell to the ground.
The holy schema-monk crossed himself, took out a book, unfolded it - and stepped back in horror and dropped the book.
No, unheard of sinner! no mercy for you! run away from here! I can't pray for you.
No? - the sinner shouted like crazy.
Look: the holy letters in the book are filled with blood. There has never been such a sinner in the world!
- Father, you are laughing at me!
Go, you damned sinner! I'm not laughing at you. Fear takes over me. It is not good for a person to be with you!
No no! you’re laughing, don’t talk... I see how your mouth has parted: your old teeth are whitening in rows!..
And he rushed like mad and killed the holy schemamonk.
Something groaned heavily, and the groan carried across the field and forest. Skinny, dry hands with long claws rose from behind the forest; shook and disappeared.
And he no longer felt any fear or anything. Everything seems vague to him. There is a noise in the ears, a noise in the head, as if from drunkenness; and everything that is before our eyes becomes covered, as it were, with a cobweb. Jumping on his horse, he rode straight to Kanev, thinking from there through Cherkasy to direct the way to the Tatars directly to the Crimea, without knowing why. He's been driving for a day, two, and still no Kanev. The road is the same; It’s time for him to show up long ago, but Kanev is nowhere to be seen. The tops of churches flashed in the distance. But this is not Kanev, but Shumsk. The sorcerer was amazed, seeing that he had driven in a completely different direction. He drove the horse back to Kyiv, and a day later the city appeared; but not Kyiv, but Galich, a city even further from Kyiv than Shumsk, and already not far from the Hungarians. Not knowing what to do, he turned his horse back again, but again he felt that he was riding in the opposite direction and still forward. Not a single person in the world could tell what was in the sorcerer’s soul; and if he had looked in and seen what was going on there, he would have had no sleep at night and would not have laughed even once. It was not anger, not fear and not fierce annoyance. There is no word in the world that could describe it. He was burning, scorching, he wanted to trample the whole world with his horse, take all the land from Kyiv to Galich with people, with everything, and drown it in the Black Sea. But he didn’t want to do this out of malice; no, he himself didn’t know why. He shuddered all over when the Carpathian Mountains and the high Krivan appeared close in front of him, covering his crown with a gray cloud, as if with a hat; and the horse kept rushing and was already scouring the mountains. The clouds cleared at once, and a horseman appeared in front of him in terrible majesty... He tries to stop, pulls tightly on the bit; the horse neighed wildly, raising its mane, and rushed towards the knight. Here it seems to the sorcerer that everything in him has frozen, that the motionless horseman is moving and at once opened his eyes; he saw the sorcerer rushing towards him and laughed. Like thunder, wild laughter scattered across the mountains and sounded in the sorcerer’s heart, shaking everything that was inside him. It seemed to him that it was as if someone strong had climbed into him and was walking inside him and beating his heart, his veins with hammers... that laughter resonated so terribly within him!
The horseman grabbed the sorcerer with his terrible hand and lifted him into the air. The sorcerer died instantly and opened his eyes after death. But there was already a dead man and he looked like a dead man. Neither the living nor the resurrected one looks so scary. He turned around with his dead eyes and saw the rising dead from Kyiv, and from the land of Galich, and from the Carpathians, like two peas in a pod with similar faces to him.
Pale, pale, each taller than the other, each one boneier, they stood around the horseman, who was holding a terrible prey in his hand. The knight laughed again and threw her into the abyss. And all the dead jumped into the abyss, picked up the dead man and sank their teeth into him. Another one, taller than all, more terrible than all, wanted to rise from the ground; but he could not, he was not strong enough to do this, he grew so great in the earth; and if he had risen, he would have overturned the Carpathians, Sedmigrad and Turkish lands; He only moved a little, and it started shaking all over the earth. And many houses were overturned everywhere. And a lot of people were crushed.
You can often hear a whistling sound across the Carpathians, as if a thousand mills are making noise with their wheels on the water. Then in a hopeless abyss, which not a single person who is afraid to pass by has ever seen, the dead are gnawing at the dead. It often happened all over the world that the earth shook from one end to the other: this is because, literate people interpret, there is a mountain somewhere near the sea, from which flames are snatched and burning rivers flow. But the old people who live both in Hungary and in the Galich land know this better and say: something great, a great dead man who grew up in the earth, wants to rise and is shaking the earth.
In the city of Glukhov, people gathered around the old bandura player and for an hour listened to how the blind man played the bandura. No bandura player has ever sung such wonderful songs so well. At first he talked about the former hetmanate, about Sagaidachny and Khmelnitsky. It was a different time then: the Cossacks were in glory; trampled the enemies' horses, and no one dared to laugh at him. The old man sang cheerful songs and turned his eyes towards the people, as if he were seeing; and the fingers, with bones made to them, flew like a fly along the strings, and it seemed as if the strings were playing themselves; and all around there were people, old people, with bowed heads, and young people, raising their eyes to the old man, not daring to whisper among themselves.
Wait,” said the elder, “I’ll sing to you about an old matter.”
The people moved closer together, and the blind man sang:
“For Pan Stepan, Prince of Sedmigrad, Prince of Sedmigrad was king and among the Poles, there lived two Cossacks: Ivan and Petro. They lived like brother and brother. “Look, Ivan, whatever you get is all in half: when someone has fun, it’s fun for someone else; when grief is for one, grief is for both; when there is prey for anyone, the prey is divided in half; when someone falls into captivity, sell everything to another and give a ransom, otherwise you yourself will go to captivity.” And it’s true that whatever the Cossacks got, they divided it in half; Whether they stole other people's cattle or horses, they divided everything in half.
King Stepan fought with Turchin. He has been fighting with Turchin for three weeks now, but still cannot drive him out. And Turchin had such a pasha that he, with ten Janissaries, could cut down an entire regiment. So King Stepan announced that if a daredevil was found and brought that pasha to him, alive or dead, he would give him alone as much salary as he gave for the entire army. “Let’s go, brother, to catch the pasha!” - said brother Ivan to Peter. And the Cossacks rode off, one in one direction, the other in the other.
Whether Petro would have caught it or not, Ivan is already leading the pasha with a lasso by the neck to the king himself. “Brave fellow!” - said King Stepan and ordered that he alone be given the same salary as the entire army receives; and ordered him to be given land wherever he wanted, and to give him as much cattle as he wanted. As soon as Ivan received his salary from the king, on the same day he divided everything equally between himself and Peter. Petro took half the royal salary, but could not bear the fact that Ivan received such an honor from the king, and harbored revenge deep in his soul.
Both knights rode to the land granted by the king, beyond the Carpathians. The Cossack Ivan put his son on his horse with him, tying him to himself. It's already dusk - they're all moving. The baby fell asleep, and Ivan himself began to doze. Don't sleep, Cossack, the roads in the mountains are dangerous!.. But the Cossack has such a horse that he knows the way everywhere, and will not stumble or stumble. There is a gap between the mountains, no one has seen the bottom of the hole; as much as from the earth to the sky, as much to the bottom of that failure. There's a road just above the gap - two people can still get through, but three can't. The horse with the dozing Cossack began to carefully step. Petro rode nearby, trembling all over and holding his breath with joy. He looked around and pushed his named brother into the hole. And the horse with the Cossack and the baby flew into the hole.
However, the Cossack grabbed a branch, and only the horse flew to the bottom. He began to climb up, with his son over his shoulders; I didn’t get there a little, I looked up and saw that Petro had pointed a pike to push him back. “My righteous God, it would be better for me not to raise my eyes than to see how my own brother instructs a pike to push me back... My dear brother! stab me with a lance, when it was already written in my family, but take your son! What is an innocent baby’s fault for it to die such a cruel death?” Petro laughed and pushed him with a pike, and the Cossack and the baby flew to the bottom. Petro took all the goods for himself and began to live like a pasha. No one had herds like Peter’s. There were never so many sheep and rams anywhere. And Petro died.
As Petro died, God called the souls of both brothers, Peter and Ivan, to trial. “This man is a great sinner! - said God. - Ivan! I will not choose execution for him soon; choose his execution yourself!” Ivan thought for a long time, imagining execution, and finally said: “This man inflicted a great insult on me: he betrayed his brother, like Judas, and deprived me of my honest family and descendants on earth. And a person without an honest family and descendants is like a grain seed thrown into the ground and lost in vain in the ground. There is no germination - no one will know that the seed was thrown.
God, make it so that all his descendants will not have happiness on earth! so that the last of his kind would be such a villain as never before existed in the world! and from each of his crimes so that his grandfathers and great-grandfathers would not find peace in their graves and, enduring torment unknown in the world, would rise from their graves! And Judas Petro would not be able to rise and therefore would endure even more bitter torment; and would eat the earth like mad and writhe under the ground!
And when the hour of measure in the atrocities of that man comes, lift me, God, from that hole on horseback to the highest mountain, and let him come to me, and I will throw him from that mountain into the deepest hole, and all the dead are his grandfathers and great-grandfathers, wherever they lived during life, so that everyone would reach out from different sides of the earth to gnaw at him for the torment that he inflicted on them, and they would gnaw at him forever, and I would have fun looking at his torment! And Judas Petro would not be able to rise from the ground, so that he would be eager to gnaw at himself, but would gnaw at himself, and his bones would grow, the further, larger, so that through this his pain would become even stronger. That torment for him will be the most terrible: for there is no greater torment for a person than wanting to take revenge and not being able to take revenge.”
“The execution you invented is terrible, man! - said God. “Let everything be as you said, but you sit there forever on your horse, and there will be no kingdom of heaven for you while you sit there on your horse!” And then everything came true as it was said: and to this day a marvelous knight stands on a horse in the Carpathians, and sees how the dead are gnawing a dead man in a bottomless pit, and feels how the dead man lying underground is growing, gnawing his bones in terrible agony and shaking terribly the whole earth..."
The blind man has already finished his song; has already begun to pluck the strings again; He had already begun to sing funny tales about Khoma and Yerema, about Stklyar Stokosa... but the old and young still did not think of waking up and stood for a long time, with their heads down, thinking about the terrible thing that happened in the old days.
Illustrations: R. Stein. N.V. Gogol. Terrible revenge. - Third edition. - Edition by A.F. Marx 1901.
The end of Kyiv is making noise and thundering: Captain Gorobets is celebrating the wedding of his son. Many people came to visit Yesaul. In the old days they loved to eat well, they loved to drink even better, and even better they loved to have fun. The Cossack Mikitka also arrived on his bay horse straight from a riotous drinking binge from the Pereshlyaya field, where he fed red wine to the royal nobles for seven days and seven nights. The captain's sworn brother, Danilo Burulbash, also arrived from the other bank of the Dnieper, where, between two mountains, there was his farm, with his young wife Katerina and his one-year-old son. The guests marveled at Mrs. Katerina’s white face, her eyebrows as black as German velvet, her elegant cloth and underwear made of blue half-sleeve, and her boots with silver horseshoes; but they were even more surprised that the old father did not come with her. He lived in the Trans-Dnieper region for only a year, but for twenty-one he disappeared without a trace and returned to his daughter when she had already married and given birth to a son. He would probably tell a lot of wonderful things. How can I not tell you, having been in a foreign land for so long! Everything is wrong there: the people are not the same, and there are no churches of Christ... But he did not come.
The guests were served Varenukha with raisins and plums and Korowai on a large platter. The musicians began to work on its underside, baked together with the money, and, having become silent for a while, placed cymbals, violins and tambourines near them. Meanwhile, the young women and girls, having wiped themselves with embroidered scarves, stepped out again from their ranks; and the boys, clutching their sides, proudly looking around, were ready to rush towards them - when the old captain brought out two icons to bless the young. He got those icons from the honest schema-monk, Elder Bartholomew. Their utensils are not rich, neither silver nor gold burns, but no evil spirit will dare to touch the one who has them in the house. Raising the icons up, the captain was preparing to say a short prayer... when suddenly the children playing on the ground screamed, frightened; and after them the people retreated, and everyone pointed with fear at the Cossack standing in their midst. Nobody knew who he was. But he had already danced to the glory of a Cossack and had already managed to make the crowd surrounding him laugh. When the captain raised the icons, suddenly his whole face changed: his nose grew and bent to the side, instead of brown, green eyes jumped, his lips turned blue, his chin trembled and became sharpened like a spear, a fang ran out of his mouth, a hump rose from behind his head, and became a Cossack - an old man.
- It is he! It is he! - they shouted in the crowd, huddling closely together.
- The sorcerer has appeared again! - mothers shouted, grabbing their children in their arms.
The esaul stepped forward majestically and dignifiedly and said in a loud voice, holding up the icons in front of him:
- Get lost, image of Satan, there is no place for you here! - And, hissing and clicking his teeth like a wolf, the wonderful old man disappeared.
They went, they went and made a noise like the sea in bad weather, talk and speeches among the people.
-What kind of sorcerer is this? - asked young and unprecedented people.
- There will be trouble! - the old people said, turning their heads.
And everywhere, throughout the wide courtyard of Yesaul, they began to gather in groups and listen to stories about the wonderful sorcerer. But almost everyone said different things, and probably no one could tell about him.
A barrel of honey was rolled out into the yard and quite a few buckets of walnut wine were placed. Everything was cheerful again. The musicians thundered; girls, young women, dashing Cossacks in bright zhupans rushed. The ninety- and one-hundred-year-old old people, having had a good time, began to dance for themselves, remembering the missing years for good reason. They feasted until late at night, and feasted in a way that they no longer feast. The guests began to disperse, but few wandered back home: many remained to spend the night with the captain in the wide courtyard; and even more Cossacks fell asleep themselves, uninvited, under the benches, on the floor, near the horse, near the stable; Where the Cossack head staggers from drunkenness, there he lies and snores for all of Kyiv to hear.
Chapter II
It shines quietly all over the world: then the moon appeared from behind the mountain. It was as if he had covered the mountainous bank of the Dnieper with a Damascus road and white as snow muslin, and the shadow went even further into the thicket of pine trees.
An oak tree floated in the middle of the Dnieper. Two boys are sitting in front; black Cossack hats are askew, and under the oars, as if fire from a flint, splashes fly in all directions.
Why don't the Cossacks sing? They don’t talk about how priests are already walking around Ukraine and rebaptizing the Cossack people into Catholics; nor about how the horde fought for two days at Salt Lake. How can they sing, how can they talk about dashing deeds: their master Danilo became thoughtful, and the sleeve of his crimson jacket dropped from the oak tree and drew water; Their lady Katerina quietly rocks the child and does not take her eyes off him, and water falls like gray dust onto the elegant cloth that is not covered with linen.
It’s a pleasure to look from the middle of the Dnieper at high mountains, wide meadows, and green forests! Those mountains are not mountains: they have no soles, below them, as above, there is a sharp peak, and below them and above them there is a high sky. Those forests that stand on the hills are not forests: they are hairs growing on the shaggy head of a forest grandfather. Under her, a beard is washed in water, and under the beard and above the hair there is a high sky. Those meadows are not meadows: they are a green belt, girding the round sky in the middle, and the moon walks in the upper half and in the lower half.
Mr. Danilo does not look around, he looks at his young wife.
- What, my young wife, my golden Katerina, has fallen into sadness?
“I didn’t go into sadness, my lord Danilo!” I was frightened by the wonderful stories about the sorcerer. They say that he was born so scary... and none of the children wanted to play with him from childhood. Listen, Mr. Danilo, how scary they say: that it was as if he was imagining everything, that everyone was laughing at him. If he met some person in the dark evening, he immediately imagined that he was opening his mouth and showing his teeth. And the next day they found that man dead. It was wonderful for me, I was scared when I listened to these stories,” said Katerina, taking out a handkerchief and wiping the face of the child sleeping in her arms with it. She embroidered leaves and berries on the scarf with red silk.
Pan Danilo didn’t say a word and began to look at the dark side, where far from behind the forest an earthen rampart loomed black and an old castle rose from behind the rampart. Three wrinkles were cut out at once above the eyebrows; his left hand stroked the youthful mustache.
“It’s not so scary that he’s a sorcerer,” he said, “but it’s scary that he’s an unkind guest.” What kind of whim did he have to drag himself here? I heard that the Poles want to build some kind of fortress to cut off our road to the Cossacks. Let it be true... I will scatter the devil's nest if there is a rumor that he has some kind of stash. I will burn the old sorcerer, so that the crows will have nothing to peck at. However, I think he is not without gold and all sorts of good things. That's where the devil lives! If he has gold... We will now sail past the crosses - this is a cemetery! here his unclean grandfathers rot. They say that they were all ready to sell themselves to Satan for money with their souls and tattered zhupans. If he definitely has gold, then there’s no point in delaying now: it’s not always possible to get it in war...
- I know what you're up to. Nothing bodes well for me meeting him. But you breathe so heavily, you look so sternly, your eyes are drawn down with such gloomy eyebrows!..
- Shut up, woman! - Danilo said with heart. - Whoever contacts you will become a woman himself. Boy, give me some fire in the cradle! “Here he turned to one of the rowers, who, having knocked out hot ashes from his cradle, began to transfer them to his master’s cradle. - He's scaring me with a sorcerer! - continued Mr. Danilo. “Kozak, thank God, is not afraid of devils or priests.” It would be of much use if we began to obey our wives. Isn't that right, guys? our wife is a cradle and a sharp saber!
Katerina fell silent, lowering her eyes into the sleepy water; and the wind rippled the water, and the whole Dnieper turned silver, like wolf fur in the middle of the night.
The oak turned and began to stick to the wooded shore. A cemetery could be seen on the shore: old crosses crowded into a heap. Neither viburnum grows among them, nor the grass turns green, only the month warms them from the heavenly heights.
- Do you guys hear the screams? Someone is calling us for help! - said Pan Danilo, turning to his rowers.
“We hear screams, and it seems from the other side,” the boys said at once, pointing to the cemetery.
But everything was quiet. The boat turned and began to go around the protruding shore. Suddenly the rowers lowered their oars and fixed their eyes motionlessly. Pan Danilo also stopped: fear and cold cut through the Cossack veins.
The cross on the grave began to shake, and a dried-up corpse quietly rose from it. Belt-length beard; the claws on the fingers are long, even longer than the fingers themselves. He quietly raised his hands up. His face began to tremble and contort. He apparently endured terrible torment. “It’s stuffy for me! stuffy!” - he moaned in a wild, inhuman voice. His voice, like a knife, scratched his heart, and the dead man suddenly went underground. Another cross shook, and again a dead man came out, even more terrible, even taller than before; all overgrown, knee-length beard and even longer bone claws. He shouted even more wildly: “It’s stuffy for me!” - and went underground. The third cross shook, the third dead man rose. It seemed that only the bones rose high above the ground. Beard right to the heels; fingers with long claws stuck into the ground. He terribly stretched his hands up, as if he wanted to get the month, and screamed as if someone had begun to saw through his yellow bones...
The child, sleeping in Katerina’s arms, screamed and woke up. The lady herself screamed. The rowers dropped their hats into the Dnieper. The gentleman himself shuddered.
Everything suddenly disappeared, as if it had never happened; however, the boys did not take up the oars for a long time.
Burulbash looked carefully at his young wife, who in fright was rocking a screaming child in her arms, pressed her to his heart and kissed her forehead.
- Don't be scared, Katerina! Look: there is nothing! - he said, pointing around. “This sorcerer wants to frighten people so that no one gets to his unclean nest.” He'll only scare some people with this! give me your son here in my arms! - At this word, Mr. Danilo raised his son up and brought it to his lips. - What, Ivan, aren’t you afraid of sorcerers? “No, speak up, father, I’m a Cossack.” Come on, stop crying! We'll come home! When we get home, your mother will feed you porridge, put you to sleep in the cradle, and sing:
Lyuli, lyuli, lyuli!
Lyuli, son, Lyuli!
Grow up, grow into fun!
To the glory of the Cossacks,
The warrens will be punished!
Listen, Katerina, it seems to me that your father does not want to live in harmony with us. He arrived gloomy, stern, as if he was angry... Well, he’s dissatisfied, so why come. I didn’t want to drink to the Cossack will! I didn’t rock the baby in my arms! At first I wanted to believe him everything that lay in my heart, but something did not take me, and the speech stuttered. No, he doesn’t have a Cossack heart! Cossack hearts, when they meet where, how will they not beat out of their chests towards each other! What, my lads, are you going to shore soon? Well, I'll give you new hats. I will give you, Stetsko, lined with velvet and gold. I took it off along with the Tatar’s head. I got his entire projectile; I released only his soul into freedom. Well, dock! Here, Ivan, we have arrived, and you are still crying! Take it, Katerina!
Everyone left. A thatched roof appeared from behind the mountain: it was Pan Danil’s grandfather’s mansion. Behind them there is still a mountain, and there is already a field, and even if you walk a hundred miles, you will not find a single Cossack.
Chapter III
Pan Danil's farm is between two mountains, in a narrow valley running down to the Dnieper. His mansions are low: the hut looks like that of ordinary Cossacks, and it has one small room; but there is room for him, and his wife, and the old servant, and ten chosen young men. There are oak shelves around the walls at the top. There are a lot of bowls and pots for eating on them. Among them there are silver cups and glasses set in gold, donated and won in war. Expensive muskets, sabers, squeaks, and spears hang below. Willingly or unwillingly, they moved from the Tatars, Turks and Poles; a lot of them are memorized. Looking at them, Pan Danilo seemed to remember his contractions by the icons. Under the wall, below, there are smooth hewn oak benches. Near them, in front of the couch, hangs a cradle on ropes threaded into a ring screwed to the ceiling. In the entire room the floor is smooth and greased with clay. Master Danilo sleeps on the benches with his wife. There is an old maid on the couch. A small child is amused and lulled into sleep in a cradle. The fellows spend the night sleeping on the floor. But it is better for a Cossack to sleep on smooth ground with a free sky; he doesn’t need a down jacket or a feather bed; he puts fresh hay under his head and stretches out freely on the grass. It is fun for him to wake up in the middle of the night, look at the high, star-studded sky and shiver from the night cold, which brought freshness to the Cossack bones. Stretching and muttering through his sleep, he lights the cradle and wraps himself tighter in the warm casing.
Not early did Burulbash wake up after yesterday's fun and, waking up, sat down in the corner on a bench and began to sharpen the new Turkish saber he had exchanged; and Mrs. Katerina began to embroider a silk towel in gold. Suddenly Katerina’s father came in, angry, frowning, with an overseas cradle in his teeth, approached his daughter and sternly began to question her: what was the reason for her returning home so late.
- About these matters, father-in-law, don’t ask her, but me! It is not the wife, but the husband who answers. It’s already like this with us, don’t be angry! - said Danilo, without leaving his work. “Maybe this doesn’t happen in other infidel lands—I don’t know.”
Color appeared on the father-in-law's stern face and his eyes flashed wildly.
- Who, if not the father, should look after his daughter! - he muttered to himself. - Well, I’m asking you: where were you hanging around until late at night?
- But this is the case, dear father-in-law! To this I will tell you that I have long since become one of those people whom women swaddle. I know how to sit on a horse. I can hold a sharp saber in my hands. I know something else... I know how to not give anyone an answer for what I do.
“I see, Danilo, I know you want a quarrel!” Whoever is hiding probably has an evil deed on his mind.
“Think to yourself what you want,” said Danilo, “and I think to myself.” Thank God, I haven’t been involved in any dishonorable business yet; He always stood for the Orthodox faith and his fatherland, not like other vagabonds who wander around God knows where, when the Orthodox are fighting to the death, and then they come to clear away the crops that were not sown by them. They don’t even look like Uniates: they won’t look into God’s church. Such people should be interrogated in order to find out where they are hanging around.
- Eh, Cossack! Do you know... I’m a bad shooter: in just a hundred fathoms my bullet pierces the heart. I chop unenviably: what remains from a person are pieces smaller than grains, from which they cook porridge.
“I’m ready,” said Pan Danilo, briskly crossing his saber in the air, as if he knew what he had sharpened it for.
- Danilo! - Katerina screamed loudly, grabbing his hand and hanging on it. - Remember, you madman, look at whom you are raising your hand to! Father, your hair is as white as snow, and you are flushed like a foolish lad!
- Wife! - Pan Danilo shouted menacingly, “you know, I don’t like this.” Mind your woman's business!
The sabers made a terrible sound; iron chopped iron, and the Cossacks showered themselves with sparks, like dust. Katerina went into a special room crying, threw herself into bed and covered her ears so as not to hear the saber blows. But the Cossacks did not fight so badly that their blows could be muffled. Her heart wanted to break into pieces. All over her body she heard sounds passing through: knock, knock. “No, I can’t stand it, I can’t stand it... Maybe scarlet blood is already gushing out of the white body. Maybe now my dear is exhausted; and I’m lying here!” And all pale, barely catching her breath, she entered the hut.
The Cossacks fought evenly and terribly. Neither one nor the other prevails. Here comes Katerina's father - Pan Danilo is served. Pan Danilo comes - the stern father moves in, and again on an equal footing. Boiling. They swung... wow! the sabers are ringing... and, rattling, the blades fly off to the side.
- Thank you, God! - said Katerina and screamed again when she saw that the Cossacks took up their muskets. We adjusted the flints and cocked the hammers.
Pan Danilo fired, but didn’t hit. The father took aim... He is old; he does not see as vigilantly as the young man, but his hand does not tremble. The shot rang out... Pan Danilo staggered. Scarlet blood stained the left sleeve of the Cossack zhupan.
- No! - he shouted, - I won’t sell myself so cheaply. Not the left hand, but the right chieftain. I have a Turkish pistol hanging on my wall; He has never cheated on me in his entire life. Get off the wall, old comrade! show your friend a favor! — Danilo extended his hand.
- Danilo! - Katerina screamed in despair, grabbing his hands and throwing herself at his feet. - I’m not praying for myself. I have only one end: that unworthy wife who lives after her husband; The Dnieper, the cold Dnieper will be my grave... But look at your son, Danilo, look at your son! Who will warm the poor child? Who will take care of him? Who will teach him to fly on a black horse, fight for his will and faith, drink and walk like a Cossack? Get lost, my son, get lost! Your father doesn't want to know you! Look how he turns away his face. ABOUT! I know you now! you are a beast, not a man! You have the heart of a wolf, and the soul of a crafty reptile. I thought that you had a drop of pity, that human feeling was burning in your stone body. I was terribly deceived. This will bring you joy. Your bones will dance in the grave with joy when they hear how the wicked beasts of the Poles will throw your son into the flames, when your son will scream under knives and sprinkles. Oh, I know you! You would be glad to get up from the coffin and fan the fire swirling under him with your hat!
- Wait, Katerina! Go, my beloved Ivan, I will kiss you! No, my child, no one will touch your hair. You will grow up to be the glory of your homeland; You will fly like a whirlwind in front of the Cossacks, with a velvet cap on your head, with a sharp saber in your hand. Give me your hand, father! Let's forget what happened between us. What I did wrong in front of you - I apologize. Why don't you give your hand? - Danilo said to Katerina’s father, who stood in one place, expressing neither anger nor reconciliation on his face.
- Father! - Katerina cried, hugging and kissing him. - Don’t be unforgiving, forgive Danil: he won’t upset you anymore!
- For you only, my daughter, I forgive! - he answered, kissing her and flashing his strange eyes. Katerina shuddered a little: both the kiss and the strange sparkle of the eyes seemed wonderful to her. She leaned her elbows on the table on which Mr. Danilo was bandaging his wounded hand, thinking about what he had done badly and not like a Cossack, asking for forgiveness without being guilty of anything. Read the work Terrible Revenge from Gogol N.V., in the original format and in full. If you appreciated the work of Gogol N.V..ru