Matryona Timofeevna (part "Peasant Woman"), based on the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia"
"Peasant Woman" picks up and continues the theme of the impoverishment of the nobility. Wanderers find themselves in a ruined estate: "the landowner is abroad, and the steward is dying." A crowd of servants released into the wild, but completely unadapted to work, is slowly stealing away the master's property. Against the backdrop of blatant devastation, collapse and mismanagement, labor peasant Russia is perceived as a powerful creative and life-affirming element:
The strangers sighed lightly:
Them after the yard aching
seemed beautiful
Healthy, singing
A crowd of reapers and reapers...
In the center of this crowd, embodying the best qualities of the Russian female character, Matryona Timofeevna appears before the wanderers:
stubborn woman,
Wide and dense
Thirty-eight years old.
Beautiful; gray hair,
The eyes are large, stern,
Eyelashes are the richest
Stern and swarthy.
She has a white shirt on
Yes, the sundress is short,
Yes, a sickle over the shoulder.
The type of "dignified Slav woman", a peasant woman of the Central Russian strip, is recreated, endowed with restrained and strict beauty, full of self-esteem. This type of peasant woman was not ubiquitous. The life story of Matryona Timofeevna confirms that it was formed in the conditions of a seasonal fishery, in a region where most of the male population went to the cities. On the shoulders of the peasant woman lay not only the whole burden of peasant labor, but also the entire measure of responsibility for the fate of the family, for the upbringing of children. Harsh conditions honed a special female character, proud and independent, accustomed to relying on her own strength everywhere and in everything. Matrena Timofeevna's story about her life is built according to the laws of epic narration common to the folk epic. "The Peasant Woman," notes N. N. Skatov, "is the only part, all written in the first person. However, this story is by no means only about her private share. The voice of Matrena Timofeevna is the voice of the people themselves. That is why she sings more often than she talks, and sings songs not invented for her by Nekrasov. "Peasant Woman" is the most folklore part of the poem, it is almost entirely built on folk poetic images and motifs.
Already the first chapter of "Before Marriage" is not just a narrative, but, as it were, a traditional rite of peasant matchmaking taking place before our eyes. Wedding parables and lamentations "They equip themselves in the huts", "Thanks to the hot baenka", "My dear father ordered" and others are based on truly folk ones. Thus, talking about her marriage, Matrena Timofeevna talks about the marriage of any peasant woman, about all their great multitude.
The second chapter is directly titled "Songs". And the songs that are sung here are, again, folk songs. The personal fate of the Nekrasov heroine is constantly expanding to the limits of the all-Russian, without ceasing at the same time to be her own destiny. Her character, growing out of the general people, is not completely destroyed in it, her personality, closely connected with the masses, does not dissolve in it.
Matrena Timofeevna, having achieved the release of her husband, did not turn out to be a soldier, but her bitter thoughts on the night after the news of her husband's impending recruitment allowed Nekrasov to "add about the position of a soldier."
Indeed, the image of Matryona Timofeevna was created in such a way that she, as it were, experienced everything and went through all the states that a Russian woman could be in.
This is how Nekrasov achieves an enlargement of the epic character, striving for his all-Russian features to shine through the individual. In the epic, there are complex internal connections between individual parts and chapters: what is only outlined in one of them often unfolds in another. At the beginning of the "Peasant Woman" the theme of noble impoverishment, stated in "The Landowner", is revealed. The story outlined in the priest's monologue about "at what price the priesthood is bought" is picked up in the description of Grigory Dobrosklonov's childhood and youth in "A Feast for the Whole World."
Bibliography
For the preparation of this work, materials from the site http://www.bobych.spb.ru/
The next chapter written by Nekrasov - "Peasant Woman"- also seems to be a clear deviation from the scheme outlined in the Prologue: the wanderers are again trying to find a happy one among the peasants. As in other chapters, the opening plays an important role. He, as in the "Last Child", becomes the antithesis of further narration, allows you to discover all the new contradictions of "mysterious Russia". The chapter begins with a description of the ruined landowner's estate: after the reform, the owners abandoned the estate and the courtyards to the mercy of fate, and the courtyards ruin and break down a beautiful house, a once well-groomed garden and park. The funny and tragic sides of the life of the abandoned household are closely intertwined in the description. Yards are a special peasant type. Torn out of their familiar environment, they lose the skills of peasant life, and the main among them is the “noble habit of work”. Forgotten by the landowner and unable to feed themselves by labor, they live by plundering and selling the owner's belongings, heating the house, breaking arbors and chiselled balcony columns. But there are also genuinely dramatic moments in this description: for example, the story of a singer with a rare beautiful voice. The landlords took him out of Little Russia, they were going to send him to Italy, but they forgot, busy with their troubles.
Against the background of the tragicomic crowd of ragged and hungry courtyards, “whining domestics,” the “healthy, singing crowd of reapers and reapers,” returning from the field, seems even more “beautiful”. But even among these stately and beautiful people, Matrena Timofeevna, "famed" by the "governor" and "lucky". The story of her life, told by herself, is central to the story. Dedicating this chapter to a peasant woman, Nekrasov, I think, not only wanted to open the soul and heart of a Russian woman to the reader. The world of a woman is a family, and telling about herself, Matryona Timofeevna tells about those aspects of folk life that have so far been only indirectly touched upon in the poem. But it is they who determine the happiness and unhappiness of a woman: love, family, life.
Matrena Timofeevna does not recognize herself as happy, just as she does not recognize any of the women as happy. But she knew short-lived happiness in her life. The happiness of Matryona Timofeevna is a girl's will, parental love and care. Her girlish life was not carefree and easy: from childhood, from the age of seven, she performed peasant work:
I was lucky in the girls:
We had a good
Non-drinking family.
For father, for mother,
Like Christ in the bosom,
I lived, well done.<...>
And on the seventh for a burushka
I myself ran into the herd,
I wore my father for breakfast,
Grazed the ducklings.
Then mushrooms and berries,
Then: "Take a rake
Yes, hay!
So I got used to it...
And a good worker
And sing and dance the huntress
I was young.
“Happiness” she also calls the last days of a girl’s life, when her fate was decided, when she “bargained” with her future husband - argued with him, “bargained” her will in married life:
- You become, good fellow,
Straight against me<...>
Think, dare:
To live with me - do not repent,
And I don't cry with you...<...>
While we were trading
Must be what I think
Then there was happiness.
And hardly ever again!
Her married life is indeed full of tragic events: the death of a child, a cruel flogging, a punishment she voluntarily accepted in order to save her son, a threat to remain a soldier. At the same time, Nekrasov shows that the source of Matrena Timofeevna’s misfortunes is not only “strengthen”, the disenfranchised position of a serf woman, but also the disenfranchised position of the younger daughter-in-law in a large peasant family. The injustice that triumphs in large peasant families, the perception of a person primarily as a worker, the non-recognition of his desires, his "will" - all these problems are opened by the story-confession of Matryona Timofeevna. A loving wife and mother, she is doomed to an unhappy and powerless life: to please her husband's family and unfair reproaches of the elders in the family. That is why, even having freed herself from serfdom, having become free, she will grieve about the absence of a "volition", and hence happiness: "The keys to the happiness of a woman, / From our free will / Abandoned, lost / God Himself." And she speaks at the same time not only about herself, but about all women.
This disbelief in the possibility of a woman's happiness is shared by the author. It is no coincidence that Nekrasov excludes from the final text of the chapter the lines about how happily the difficult situation of Matryona Timofeevna in her husband's family changed after returning from the governor's wife: in the text there is no story either that she became a "big woman" in the house, or that she “conquered” the “grumpy, quarrelsome” family of her husband. Only lines remained that the husband's family, recognizing her participation in saving Philip from the soldiery, "bowed" to her and "obeyed" to her. But the chapter of the “Woman's Parable” ends, affirming the inevitability of bondage-misfortune for a woman even after the abolition of serfdom: “But to our female will / There are no and no keys!<...>/ Yes, they are unlikely to be found ... "
The researchers noted Nekrasov's idea: creating image of Matrena Timofeevna y, he aspired to the widest generalization: her fate becomes a symbol of the fate of every Russian woman. The author carefully, thoughtfully chooses the episodes of her life, “guiding” his heroine along the path that any Russian woman takes: a short carefree childhood, labor skills instilled from childhood, a girl’s will and a long powerless position of a married woman, a worker in the field and in the house. Matrena Timofeevna is going through all the possible dramatic and tragic situations that fall to the lot of a peasant woman: humiliation in her husband's family, beatings of her husband, death of a child, harassment by a manager, flogging and even - albeit not for long - the share of a soldier's wife. “The image of Matryona Timofeevna was created in this way,” writes N.N. Skatov, - that she seemed to have experienced everything and been in all the states that a Russian woman could be in. The folk songs and laments included in Matrena Timofeevna’s story, most often “replacing” her own words, her own story, further expand the narrative, allowing one to comprehend both the happiness and misfortune of one peasant woman as a story about the fate of a serf woman.
In general, the story of this woman depicts life according to God's laws, "divinely," as Nekrasov's heroes say:
<...>I endure and do not grumble!
All the power given by God
I believe in work
All in children love!
And the more terrible and unfair are the misfortunes and humiliations that have fallen to her lot. "<...>In me / There is no unbroken bone, / There is no unstretched vein, / There is no uncorrupted blood<...>"- this is not a complaint, but the true result of what Matryona Timofeevna experienced. The deep meaning of this life - love for children - is also affirmed by Nekrasov with the help of parallels from the natural world: the story of Dyomushka's death is preceded by a cry about a nightingale, whose chicks burned down on a tree lit by a thunderstorm. The chapter that tells about the punishment accepted in order to save another son - Philip from whipping, is called "The She-Wolf". And here the hungry she-wolf, ready to sacrifice her life for the cubs, appears as a parallel to the fate of a peasant woman who lay down under the rod to free her son from punishment.
The central place in the chapter "Peasant Woman" is occupied by the story of Savely, Holy Russian bogatyr. Why is Matryona Timofeevna entrusted with the story of the fate of the Russian peasant, the “hero of Holy Russia”, his life and death? It seems that this is largely because it is important for Nekrasov to show the “hero” Savely Korchagin not only in his opposition to Shalashnikov and the manager Vogel, but also in the family, in everyday life. “Grandfather” Savely, a pure and holy man, was needed by his large family as long as he had money: “As long as there was money, / They loved grandfather, groomed, / Now they spit in the eyes!” Savely's inner loneliness in the family enhances the drama of his fate and at the same time, like the fate of Matrena Timofeevna, gives the reader an opportunity to learn about the everyday life of the people.
But it is no less important that the “story within a story”, connecting two destinies, shows the relationship between two outstanding people, who for the author himself were the embodiment of an ideal folk type. It is the story of Matrena Timofeevna about Savely that makes it possible to emphasize what brought together different people in general: not only the disenfranchised position in the Korchagin family, but also the commonality of characters. Matrena Timofeevna, whose whole life is filled only with love, and Savely Korchagin, whom hard life has made “stone”, “fierce than the beast”, are similar in the main thing: their “angry heart”, their understanding of happiness as “will”, as spiritual independence.
Matrena Timofeevna does not accidentally consider Savely lucky. Her words about “grandfather”: “He was also lucky ...” is not a bitter irony, because in Savely’s life, full of suffering and trials, there was something that Matryona Timofeevna herself values \u200b\u200bhighest of all - moral dignity, spiritual freedom. Being a "slave" of the landowner according to the law, Savely did not know spiritual slavery.
Savely, according to Matryona Timofeevna, called his youth "prosperity", although he experienced many insults, humiliations, and punishments. Why does he consider the past "good times"? Yes, because, fenced off by “swampy swamps” and “dense forests” from their landowner Shalashnikov, the inhabitants of Korezhina felt free:
We were only concerned
Bears ... yes with bears
We got along easily.
With a knife and with a horn
I myself am scarier than the elk,
Along the reserved paths
I go: "My forest!" - I scream.
"Prosperity" was not overshadowed by the annual flogging, which Shalashnikov arranged for his peasants, knocking out quitrents with rods. But the peasants - "proud people", having endured the flogging and pretending to be beggars, they knew how to save their money and, in turn, "amused" over the master, who was unable to take the money:
Weak people gave up
And the strong for the patrimony
They stood well.
I also endured
He hesitated, thinking:
"Whatever you do, son of a dog,
And you won't knock out your whole soul,
leave something"<...>
But we lived as merchants ...
The “happiness” that Savely speaks of is, of course, illusory, it is a year of free life without a landowner and the ability to “endure”, endure during the spanking and keep the money earned. But other "happiness" to the peasant could not be released. And yet, Koryozhina soon lost even such “happiness”: “penal servitude” began for the peasants when Vogel was appointed manager: “I ruined it to the bone! / And he fought ... like Shalashnikov himself! /<...>/ The German has a dead grip: / Until he lets him go around the world, / Without leaving, he sucks!
Savely glorifies non-patience as such. Not everything can and should be endured by the peasant. Saveliy clearly distinguishes the ability to "underbear" and "endure". To not endure means to succumb to pain, not to bear the pain, and to submit morally to the landowner. To endure means to lose dignity and to accept humiliation and injustice. Both that and another - does the person "slave".
But Savely Korchagin, like no one else, understands the whole tragedy of eternal patience. With him, an extremely important thought enters the narrative: about the wasted strength of the peasant hero. Savely not only glorifies the Russian heroism, but also mourns for this hero, humiliated and mutilated:
And so we endured
That we are rich.
In that Russian heroism.
Do you think, Matryonushka,
The man is not a hero?
And his life is not military,
And death is not written for him
In battle - a hero!
The peasantry in his reflections appears as a fabulous hero, chained and humiliated. This hero is more than heaven and earth. A truly cosmic image appears in his words:
Hands twisted with chains
Legs forged with iron
Back ... dense forests
Passed on it - broke.
And the chest? Elijah the prophet
On it rattles-rides
On a chariot of fire...
The hero suffers everything!
The hero holds the sky, but this work costs him great torment: “For the time being, a terrible thrust / He lifted something, / Yes, he himself went into the ground up to his chest / With an effort! On his face / Not tears - blood flows! But is there any point in this great patience? It is no coincidence that Savely is disturbed by the thought of a life gone in vain, a gift of wasted strength: “I was lying on the stove; / Lie down, thinking: / Where are you, strength, gone? / What were you good for? / - Under rods, under sticks / She left for trifles! And these bitter words are not only the result of one's own life: they are sorrow for the ruined people's strength.
But the author's task is not only to show the tragedy of the Russian hero, whose strength and pride "went away over trifles." It is no coincidence that at the end of the story about Savely, the name of Susanin appears - a hero-peasant: the monument to Susanin in the center of Kostroma reminded Matryona Timofeevna of "grandfather". Saveliy's ability to maintain freedom of spirit, spiritual independence even in slavery, not to submit to the soul - this is also heroism. It is important to emphasize this feature of the comparison. As N.N. Skatov, the monument to Susanin in the story of Matryona Timofeevna does not look like a real one. “A real monument created by the sculptor V.M. Demut-Malinovsky, the researcher writes, turned out to be more of a monument to the tsar than to Ivan Susanin, who was depicted kneeling near a column with a bust of the tsar. Nekrasov not only kept silent about the fact that the peasant was on his knees. In comparison with the rebel Savely, the image of the Kostroma peasant Susanin received for the first time in Russian art a peculiar, essentially anti-monarchist interpretation. At the same time, the comparison with Ivan Susanin, the hero of Russian history, put the final touch on the monumental figure of the Korezh bogatyr, Holy Russian peasant Savely.
"Peasant Woman" picks up and continues the theme of the impoverishment of the nobility. Wanderers find themselves in a ruined estate: "the landowner is abroad, and the steward is dying." A crowd of servants released into the wild, but completely unadapted to work, is slowly stealing away the master's property. Against the backdrop of blatant devastation, collapse and mismanagement, labor peasant Russia is perceived as a powerful creative and life-affirming element:
The strangers sighed lightly:
Them after the yard aching
seemed beautiful
Healthy, singing
A crowd of reapers and reapers...
In the center of this crowd, embodying the best qualities of the Russian female character, Matryona Timofeevna appears before the wanderers:
stubborn woman,
Wide and dense
Thirty-eight years old.
Beautiful; gray hair,
The eyes are large, stern,
Eyelashes are the richest
Stern and swarthy.
She has a white shirt on
Yes, the sundress is short,
Yes, a sickle over the shoulder.
The type of "dignified Slav woman", a peasant woman of the Central Russian strip, is recreated, endowed with restrained and strict beauty, full of self-esteem. This type of peasant woman was not ubiquitous. The life story of Matryona Timofeevna confirms that it was formed in the conditions of a seasonal fishery, in a region where most of the male population went to the cities. On the shoulders of the peasant woman lay not only the whole burden of peasant labor, but also the entire measure of responsibility for the fate of the family, for the upbringing of children. Harsh conditions honed a special female character, proud and independent, accustomed to relying on her own strength everywhere and in everything. Matrena Timofeevna's story about her life is built according to the laws of epic narration common to the folk epic. "The Peasant Woman," notes N. N. Skatov, "is the only part, all written in the first person. However, this story is by no means only about her private share. The voice of Matrena Timofeevna is the voice of the people themselves. That is why she sings more often than she talks, and sings songs not invented for her by Nekrasov. "Peasant Woman" is the most folklore part of the poem, it is almost entirely built on folk poetic images and motifs.
Already the first chapter of "Before Marriage" is not just a narrative, but, as it were, a traditional rite of peasant matchmaking taking place before our eyes. Wedding parables and lamentations "They equip themselves in the huts", "Thanks to the hot baenka", "My dear father ordered" and others are based on truly folk ones. Thus, talking about her marriage, Matrena Timofeevna talks about the marriage of any peasant woman, about all their great multitude.
The second chapter is directly titled "Songs". And the songs that are sung here are, again, folk songs. The personal fate of the Nekrasov heroine is constantly expanding to the limits of the all-Russian, without ceasing at the same time to be her own destiny. Her character, growing out of the general people, is not completely destroyed in it, her personality, closely connected with the masses, does not dissolve in it.
Matrena Timofeevna, having achieved the release of her husband, did not turn out to be a soldier, but her bitter thoughts on the night after the news of her husband's impending recruitment allowed Nekrasov to "add about the position of a soldier."
Indeed, the image of Matryona Timofeevna was created in such a way that she, as it were, experienced everything and went through all the states that a Russian woman could be in.
This is how Nekrasov achieves an enlargement of the epic character, striving for his all-Russian features to shine through the individual. In the epic, there are complex internal connections between individual parts and chapters: what is only outlined in one of them often unfolds in another. At the beginning of the "Peasant Woman" the theme of noble impoverishment, stated in "The Landowner", is revealed. The story outlined in the priest's monologue about "at what price the priesthood is bought" is picked up in the description of Grigory Dobrosklonov's childhood and youth in "A Feast for the Whole World."
Petrovka. The time is hot.
Haymaking in full swing.
Passing the poor village
illiterate province,
Staro-Vakhlatsky volost,
Big Wahlaki,
Wanderers came to the Volga ...
Seagulls are flying over the Volga;
Waders are walking
By the shallows. And in the meadow
What a goal, like a clerk
Cheek, shaved yesterday
Standing "princes Volkonsky"
And their kids that before
Will be born than fathers.
“The swaths are the widest! -
Pahom Onisimych said. -
Here is a heroic people!
The Gubin brothers laugh:
Long time ago they noticed
high peasant
With a jug - on a haystack;
He drank, and a woman with a pitchfork,
Lift up your head,
She looked at him.
We caught up with the haystack -
The man drinks everything! measured out
Another fifty steps
Everyone looked around at once.
Still throwing up
There is a man; vessel
Raised upside down...
Spread under the shore
Tents; old women, horses
With empty carts
Yes, children are visible here.
And then where does it end
The aftertaste is cut down,
Dark people! There are white
Women's shirts, but colorful
men's shirts,
Yes voices, yes tinkling
Agile braids. "God help me!"
- Thank you, well done! -
The strangers have stopped...
Sweeps are haymaking
They go in the right order:
All brought together
Braids flashed, tinkled,
The grass instantly trembled
And fell, noisy!
Along the low shore
On the Volga the grasses are tall,
Merry mowing.
The strangers could not stand it:
"We haven't worked for a long time.
Let's mow!"
Seven women gave them braids.
Wake up, flare up
forgotten habit
To work! Like teeth from hunger
Works for everyone
Agile hand.
They fell the tall grass,
To a song unfamiliar
Vakhlatskaya side;
To the song that inspired
Snowstorms and blizzards
Native villages:
Zaplatova, Dyryavina,
Razutova, Znobishina,
Gorelova, Neelova -
Crop failure too...
Fed up, tired,
Sat down for breakfast...
Where are you guys from? -
I asked our strangers
gray-haired man (who
The women were called Vlasushka). -
Where is God taking you?
"And we ..." - said the wanderers
And suddenly fell silent:
They heard music!
- Our landowner rides, -
Vlas said - and rushed
To the workers: - Do not yawn!
Mow friendly! And most importantly:
Do not upset the landlord.
Get angry - bow to him!
Praise you - shout "cheers" ...
Hey women! don't roar! -
Another man, squat,
With a wide beard
Almost the same
The people ordered
He put on a caftan - and the master
Runs to meet. - What kind of people? -
To dumbfounded wanderers
He screams as he runs. -
Take off your hats! -
To the shore
Three boats landed.
In one servant, music,
In the other - a hefty feeder
With a child, an old nanny
And the shelter is quiet
And in the third - gentlemen:
Two beautiful ladies
(Thinner - blond,
Thicker - black-browed),
Mustachioed two gentlemen,
Three barchenka-weather
Yes old man
Thin! like winter hares
All white, and a white hat,
High, with a band
From red cloth.
Nose with a beak, like a hawk,
Mustache gray, long,
And - different eyes:
One healthy - glows.
And the left one is cloudy, cloudy,
Like a pewter!
With them, the dogs are white,
Shaggy, with a sultan,
On tiny feet...
The old man, having risen to the shore,
On a red soft rug
rested for a long time,
Then he examined the mowing:
He was led under the arms
That gentlemen mustachioed
That young ladies, -
And so, with all the retinue,
With children and hosts,
With a feeder and a nanny,
And with white dogs
The whole field is hay
The landlord walked around.
The peasants bowed low
Burmister (wanderers realized,
What is that guy squat
Burmister) in front of the landowner,
Like a demon before matins,
Yulil: "That's right! I'm listening!" -
And bowed to the landowner
A little bit off the ground.
In one stronghold, seasoned,
Today only sour cream
The landowner pointed his finger,
Found that the hay is wet
He flared up: "Good Lord
Fester? I'm you scammers
I myself will rot in the barshchina!
Dry it now!..”
The elder fussed:
- I overlooked the manenichko!
Raw: Guilty! -
He summoned the people - and with a pitchfork
The thick-set hero,
In the presence of the landowner,
They were torn to shreds.
The landowner calmed down.
(The strangers tried:
Dry senzo!)
A footman runs with a napkin,
Limps: "Dinner is served!"
With all my retinue,
With children and hosts,
With a feeder and a nanny,
And with white dogs
The landowner went to have breakfast,
Having examined the work.
From the river from the boat burst
Towards the bars music
The set table turns white
On the shore…
Our strangers marvel.
They stuck to Vlas: “Grandfather!
What are the strange orders?
What a wonderful old man?
Our landowner: Prince Utyatin! -
“What is he up to?
Now the orders are new.
And he fools in the old way:
Senzo dry-dry -
He ordered to dry it out!
And even more outlandish
What is the same thing
And reap - not him!
"Whose one?"
- Our patrimony.
“What is he doing here?
Are you non-humans with God?
No, we, by the grace of God,
Now the peasants are free
We are like people.
Orders are also new,
Yes, this is a special article...
"What article?"
An old woman lay down under a haystack
And - no more words!
In addition, a stack of wanderers
Sat down; quietly said:
"Hey! self-assembled tablecloth,
Treat the men!”
And the tablecloth unrolled
Where did they come from
Two hefty hands:
A bucket of wine was placed
Bread was laid on a mountain
And hid again...
Poured a glass to grandfather
The strangers came again:
“Respect! tell us Vlasushka
What is the article here?
- Yes, nonsense! There's nothing here
Tell ... And you yourself
What kind of people? Where are you from?
Where is God taking you? -
"We are strangers,
For a long time, on an important matter,
We left the houses
We have a concern...
Is it such a concern
Which of the houses survived
With work unfriended us,
Stopped eating…”
The strangers have stopped...
What are you bothering about? -
"Let's shut up! We ate
So it's good to have a rest."
And they settled down. Silent!
You are so! but in our opinion
Kohl started, so tell me!
“And you yourself must be silent!
We are not into you, old lady!
If you please, we will say: you see,
We are looking for, Uncle Vlas,
unworn province,
Not gutted volost,
Izbytkova village! .. "
And the strangers said
How we met by chance
How they fought, arguing,
How they gave their vow
And how then they staggered
Searched by provinces
Pulled up, shot down
Who lives happily.
Feel free in Russia?
Vlas listened - and the storytellers
I measured with my eyes: - I see,
You are strange people too! -
He said at last. -
We wonder and we are enough.
And you are more wonderful than us! -
“Yes, what are you doing?
Another glass, grandpa!”
How I drank two glasses
Vlas spoke:
II
Our landlord is special,
Wealth is immeasurable.
An important rank, a noble family,
The whole century he was weird, fooled.
And suddenly a thunderstorm struck...
Doesn't believe: lie, robbers!
mediator, corrector
Chased away! fooling around the old way.
Became very suspicious
Don't bow - shit!
The governor himself to the master
Arrived: argued for a long time,
Angry voice of the master
In the dining room, the servants heard;
Angry so that by the evening
Enough of his blow!
the whole half of the left
Repulsed: as if dead
And like the earth is black...
Lost for a dime!
It is known, not self-interest,
And his arrogance cut him off.
He lost his sorinko. -
"What does it mean, dear friends,
It's a landowner's habit!" -
Mitrodor noticed.
"Not only over the landowner,
Habit over the peasant
Strong, Pahom said. -
I times, on suspicion
Having fallen into prison, wonderful
I saw a man there.
For horse stealing, it seems
He was sued, his name was Sidor,
So from the prison to the master
He sent a tribute!
(Income of the prisoner
Known for: alms
Yes, something will work.
Yes, steal something.)
The others laughed at him:
"Well, to the settlement
They will send - the money is gone!“
"It's getting better," he says...
Mote is a trifling matter,
Yes, but not in the eye:
The oak fell on the quiet sea,
And the sea cried
An old man lies unconscious
(Won't get up, they thought so!).
The sons have arrived
black mustache guardsmen
(You saw them on the plow,
And the ladies are beautiful -
That is the wives of fellows).
Senior has power of attorney
Was: on it with an intermediary
Established certificate...
And suddenly the old man stood up!
Slightly stuttered ... Lord!
Like a wounded beast rushed
And thundered like thunder!
Things are all recent
I was an elder at the time
Happened here - so I heard myself,
How he honored the landowners,
I remember everything to the word:
“They reproach the Jews for betraying
Christ ... and what did you do?
The rights of their nobility,
sanctified for centuries
You have betrayed!..” To the sons
He said: “You cowards vile!
You are not my children!
Let people be small
What came out of the priests
Yes, taking bribes
Bought the men
Let them ... forgive them!
And you ... the princes of Utyatin?
What are you U-ty-ti-ny!
Get out!.. foundlings,
You are not my children!”
The heirs were shy:
Well, before death
Disinherit? You never know
Forests, father's land?
What money has been accumulated
Where will the good go?
Guess! At the prince's in St. Petersburg
Three side daughters
Issued for generals
Wouldn't refuse them!
And the prince is sick again ...
Just to win time
Think about how to be here
Some lady
(Must be blond:
She to him, hearty,
I heard brushing
At that time, the left side)
Take and blurt out the master,
What are the peasants to the landowners
They told me to turn back!
I believed! Easier than small
The child became an old lady,
How the paralysis broke!
I cried! before the icons
Pray with the whole family
Orders to serve prayer,
Ring the bells!
And the strength seemed to have arrived
Again: hunting, music,
Dvorovykh blows with a stick,
Orders to convene the peasants.
With yard heirs
Stuck, of course,
And there is one (he just now
I ran with a napkin),
Togo and persuade
It was not necessary: the gentleman
He loves so much!
It is called Ipat.
How the will was preparing for us,
So he didn't believe her.
"You're kidding! Princes Utyatiny
Will they be left without a fiefdom?
No, the arms are short!
The "Position" appeared, -
Ipat said: “You have fun!
And I am the Utyatin princes
Slave - and the whole story here!
Can't lordly favors
Forget Ipat! funny
About childhood and youth
Yes, and about old age itself
His stories
(You used to come to the master,
You wait, you wait ... You listen unwittingly,
I've heard them a hundred times
“How small I was, our prince
me with my own hand
Harnessed to the cart;
I reached a frisky youth:
The prince came on vacation
And, spree, redeemed
Me, the last slave,
In the winter in the hole!
Yes, how wonderful! Two holes:
In one he will lower in the net,
It will instantly pull out into another -
And bring vodka.
I began to lean towards old age.
Roads are narrow in winter
So often went with the prince
We goose in five horses.
One day the prince is an entertainer! -
And plant a faletur
Me, the last slave,
With a violin - ahead.
He loved music deeply.
"Play, Ipat!" And the coachman
Screaming: "Go live!"
The blizzard was pretty
I played: my hands are busy,
And the horse is stumbling -
I fell off her!
Well, sleds, of course.
Passed through me
Chest squeezed.
Not that it's a problem: it's cold.
Freeze - there is no salvation.
Around the desert, snow ...
I look at the stars often
Yes, I repent of sins.
So, are you a true friend?
I heard bells.
Whoa, closer! choo, louder!
The prince returned (dripped
There are tears at the yard.
And no matter how much he said.
He was always crying!
Dressed me, kept me warm
And nearby, unworthy,
With his special princely
Brought home in a sleigh! -
Strangers laughed...
Taking a sip of wine (for the fourth time),
Vlas continued: “The heirs
Hit and fiefdom
Chelom: “We are sorry for the parent,
Orders of the new, nonetheless
He can't bear it.
Save your dad!
Shut up, bow down
Don't cross the sick
We will reward you:
For extra labor, for corvee,
For a word even abusive -
We will pay you for everything.
Not long to live the heart,
Probably two or three months
Dokhtur himself announced!
Respect us, listen
We are floodplain meadows for you
We will give along the Volga;
Now send to the intermediary
Paper, that's right!"
The world has gathered, roar!
Meadows (these ones),
Yes vodka, yes with three boxes
Promises did that
That the world decided to remain silent
Until the death of the old man.
Let's go to an intermediary:
Laughing! "It's a good thing
And the meadows are good,
Fool around, God forgives!
Not in Russia, you know
Shut up and bow down
Forbid anyone!”
However, I resisted:
"To you, peasants, gladly,
What about me?
Whatever happens - to the master
Burmistra! whatever you want,
Will send for me! How will I
To stupid requests
Responsible? stupid
Execute orders?"
You stand before him without a hat,
Shut up and bow down
You leave and it's over.
The old man is sick, relaxed,
Doesn't remember anything!
It's true: you can!
fool the crazy
Simple article.
Yes, be a jester pea,
To be honest, I didn't want to.
And so I am forever
Standing at the lintel,
He hesitated in front of the master
Satisfy! "If the world
(I said, bowing to the world)
Allows you to show off
To the dismissed master
In the rest of the hours
I am silent and I - subdue,
And just from office
Dismiss me!"
Things didn't work out a bit.
Da Klimka Lavin helped out:
“And you make a steward
Me! I will please
Both the old man and you.
God will take away the Last
Quickly, and at the patrimony
The meadows remain.
This is how we will lead
We are the strictest
Let's get in order
What will break the tummies
The whole patrimony ... You will see!
The world thought for a long time.
Whatever is desperate
Klim was a peasant: and a drunkard,
And unclean in hand.
Work doesn't work
Gets on with the gypsies
Tramp, horseman!
Laughing at the workers:
From work, no matter how you suffer,
You won't be rich
And you will be a hunchback!
And yet, the guy is smart,
Been to Moscow and St. Petersburg,
Traveled to Siberia with merchants,
Too bad I didn't stay there!
Clever, but a penny does not hold,
Heather, but comes across
Trouble! Fuck man!
Some special words
Heard enough: atechism,
Moscow capital,
Great Russian soul.
"I am a Russian peasant!" -
Shouted with a wild voice
And, having knocked dishes on the forehead,
I drank half a bottle in one gulp!
Like a water dispenser to bow
Ready for vodka for everyone
And there is a treasury - will share,
He will drink everything with the counter!
Much to yell, baluster,
Rotten goods show
From the hazy end.
Boasts from three boxes,
And if you catch - laugh it off
shameless saying,
What is "for the right horn
They hit me in the face with a bow!”
thinking, left
I am a steward: I rule
Deeds and now.
And in front of the old master
They called Klimka Burmister,
Let him! According to the master
Burmister! before the Last
The last person!
Klim has a conscience of clay,
And Minin's beards,
Take a look, you'll think
Why not find a peasant
Gradually and sober.
The heirs built
Kaftan to him: dressed him -
And Klim Yakovlich became
From Klimka reckless
Burmister first class.
Gone are the old orders!
I will follow our
Unfortunately, ordered
Walks. Whatever the day
Rolling through the village
Spring stroller:
Get up! down with the card!
God knows what will come from
Branit, reproaches; with a threat
Come on - be quiet!
He sees a plowman in the field
And for his own lane
Oblaet: and lazy something,
And we are couch potatoes!
And the strip worked
Like never on a master
The man did not work
Yes, I’m not aware of the last,
What has not been a bar for a long time,
And our lane!
Let's get together - laughter! Everyone has it
Your tale about the holy fool
Landowner: hiccups,
I think him!
And then there is Klim Yakovlich.
He will come and look at the boss
(Proud pig: scratched
O bar porch!),
Shouts: "Order on the patrimony!"
Well, listen to the order:
“I reported to the master,
What about the widow Terentievna
The hut fell apart
What is the woman begging for
Christ's alms
So the master ordered:
On that widow Terentyeva
Marry Gavrila Zhokhov
Fix the hut again
To live in it, be fruitful
And they ruled the tax!
And that widow is under seventy,
And the groom is six years old!
Well, laughter, of course! ..
Another order: "Cows
Yesterday we chased until the sun
Near the bar yard
And so mumbled, stupid,
What woke up the master, -
So the shepherds are ordered
Keep killing the cows!”
Again the patrimony laughs.
“What are you laughing at? Any
There are orders:
Sat in the governorship
General in Yakutsk.
So what about those cows
Planted! For a long time they listened
The whole city was decorated
Like Peter monuments
executed cows,
Until you figured it out
What a madman he is!"
Another order: "At the watchman,
At the under Sofronov,
The dog is disrespectful:
Barked at the master
So drive out the underworld
And the watchman to the landlord
The estate is assigned
Eremka! .. "Rolled
Again the peasants with laughter:
Eremka the one from birth
Deaf fool!
Satisfied with Klim. Found it
Love the position! running,
Strange, interferes with everything,
Drink even less!
There is a lively woman here,
Orefevna, godfather to him,
So with her Klimakh master
Fooling at the same time.
Lafa for grandmothers! run around
To the manor's yard with canvases,
With mushrooms, with strawberries:
Everything is bought by the ladies,
And they feed and drink!
We joked, we fooled around
Yes, they suddenly joked
To the point of disaster:
Was rude, rude
We have a man Agap Petrov,
He reproached us a lot:
"Hey guys! The king took pity
So you are in a yoke with a hunt ...
God be with them, with hayfields!
I don't want to know sir!
That only calmed down
What a damask of wine they put
(He loved Vinco.)
Yeah damn it with time
Inflicted on the master:
Lucky Agap log
(Look, not enough night for a fool,
So went to steal
Forest - in broad daylight!),
Towards that stroller
And the gentleman in it: "From where
The log is so nice
Are you driving, man? .. "
And he realized from where.
Agap is silent: a log
From the forest from the master's,
So what is there to say!
Yes, it hurts too much
Old man: sawed, sawed him,
The rights of their nobility
Calculated for him!
peasant patience
Hardy, but time
There is also an end to it.
Agap left early,
No breakfast: peasant
It was sickening and so
And then there's the lord's speech,
Like a relentless fly
Buzzing under the ear the most ...
Agap laughed!
“Oh, you fool, you pea jester!
Nicshni! - Yes, and go!
Got it here
For grandfathers and great-grandfathers,
Not only for myself.
It is known that our anger
Unleash! Master's swearing
What a mosquito sting
Peasant - wow!
Hurried barin! It would be easier
Stand under the bullets
Under the stone rain!
Relatives were also taken aback
The women were rushed
To Agap with persuasion,
So he cried out: “I will kill you! ..
What a braga, got excited
The scum of the filthy
The trough... Pts! Nicshni!
Peasant souls possession
It's over. You are the last!
You are the last! By grace
Peasant our stupidity
Today you are in charge
And tomorrow we'll follow
Pink - and the ball is over!
Go home, take a walk
With your tail between your legs, through the upper rooms,
And leave us! Nikshni!.."
"You are a rebel!" - hoarsely
Said the old man; shook all over
And half dead fell!
"Now the end!" - thought
black mustache guardsmen
And the ladies are beautiful;
But it turned out - not the end!
Order: before all the patrimony,
In the presence of the landowner,
For unparalleled audacity
Agap to punish.
The heirs ran
And their wives - to Agapushka,
And to Klim, and to me!
"Save us, darlings!
Save!" Walking pale:
"When the deception is revealed,
We've completely disappeared!"
Burmister went to wield!
I drank with Agap until the evening,
Embraced until midnight
Walked the village with him,
Then again from midnight
Watered him - and drunk
Brought to the bar yard.
Everything went well:
Couldn't move off the porch
The latter - so upset ...
Well, Klimke and lafa!
Into the stable the rogue of the criminal
Brought before the peasant
Put a bottle of wine:
“Drink and shout: have mercy!
Oh, fathers! oh mothers!"
Agap obeyed,
Choo, wail! Like music
The last moan listens;
We almost laughed
As he began to say:
“Ka-tay him, break-boy-nik,
Bun-tov-shchi-ka ... Ka-tai!
Neither give nor take under the rods
Agap shouted, fooled around,
Until I finished the damask.
How they carried it out of the stable
his dead drunk
Four men
So the master even took pity:
"It's your own fault, Agapushka!" -
He kindly said...
“Look, good too! sorry,"
Prov noticed, and Vlas to him:
- Not angry ... yes there is a proverb:
Praise the grass in a haystack
And the master is in a coffin!
Everything is better if God
Cleaned up... Agapushka is no more...
"How! died?"
- Yes, venerable ones:
Almost the same day!
He sighed in the evening
By midnight, the priest asked
He died to the white light.
Buried and placed
Life-Giving Cross...
Why? God alone knows!
Of course we didn't touch
His not only rods -
And a finger. Well, anyway
No, no - and you think:
Don't be such an opportunity
Agap would not have died!
The man is raw, special,
The head is restless
And here: go, lie down!
Let's say it ends well
And all Agap pondered:
Resist - the world will be angry,
And the world is a fool - will catch!
Everything went together like this:
Slightly young ladies
Didn't kiss the old one
Fifty, tea, slipped,
And even more so, Klim is shameless,
Ruined him, anathema,
Wine!..
Get out of the master
The ambassador is coming: have a bite!
He must be calling the elder,
I'll go take a look at the gum! -
III
Wanderers went after Vlas;
There are also a few babes
And the guys set off with them;
It was noon, rest time,
So it got pretty good
The people - take a look.
Everyone lined up respectfully
Away from gentlemen...
At the long white table
laden with bottles
And different foods
Sitting gentlemen:
In the first place - the old prince,
gray-haired, dressed in white,
face twisted
And different eyes.
White cross in buttonhole
(Vlas says: George
Victorious cross).
Behind a chair in a white tie
Ipat, yard devotee,
Fans flies.
On the sides of the landlord
Two young ladies:
One black haired
Like red beet lips
On an apple - eyes!
Another blond
With loose braid
Hey, kitty! like gold
Burning in the sun!
On three high chairs
Three well-dressed boys
Napkins tied up
Down the throat in children.
With them the old nanny,
And then - the servants are different:
Teachers, poor
Noblewomen. Against the master -
black mustache guards,
Last sons.
Behind every chair is a girl
And then a woman with a branch -
Fans flies.
And under the table are furry
Dogs are white-haired.
The barchonki tease them...
Without a hat in front of the master
The steward stood.
"And soon, -
The landowner asked, eating, -
Shall we finish the haymaking?"
Yes, as you say now:
We are in position
Three days a week bar,
From tax: a worker with a horse,
teenager or woman
Yes, half an old woman a day,
The master's term ends...
“Shh! shh! - said Prince Utyatin,
As a person who noticed
What's on the subtlest trick
Caught another. -
What kind master's term?
Where did you get it from?
And on the faithful burmister
He cast an inquisitive eye.
The steward lowered his head,
- How to order if you please!
Two or three days are good
And your grace's hay
We'll take it all away, God willing!
Isn't it, kids? .. -
(The steward returns to the corvee
wide face.)
Answered for corvee
Provornaya Orefievna,
Burmistrova godfather:
- That's how it is, Klim Yakovlich.
As long as the bucket holds
Remove the hay barskoe,
And ours will wait!
“Babenka, but smarter than you! -
The landlord suddenly grinned
And he started laughing. -
Haha! fool!.. Ha-ha-ha-ha!
Fool! fool! fool!
They came up with: the master's term!
Ha ha... fool! ha ha ha ha!
Lord's term - the whole life of a slave!
Have you forgotten:
I am by the grace of God
And the ancient royal charter,
And family and merit
Lord over you! .. "
Vlas falls to the ground.
"What is it?" - asked the strangers.
- Let me rest for now!
Now not soon prince
Get off your beloved horse!
Since the rumor has gone
That the will is preparing for us,
The prince has only one speech:
What does the master have to the man
Until doomsday
Clamped to be in a handful! ..
And for sure: almost an hour
The latter has spoken!
His tongue did not obey:
The old man was drooling
Hissed! And so upset
That the right eye twitched,
And the left suddenly expanded
And - round, like an owl, -
Spinning wheel.
The rights of their nobility,
sanctified for centuries
Merit, ancient name
The landowner mentioned
King's wrath, God's
Threatened the peasants if
They rebel
And strongly commanded
So that I don’t think trifles,
The patrimony did not indulge
And listened to the gentlemen!
“Fathers! - said Klim Yakovlich,
With a screech in his voice,
As if the whole womb is in it,
When thinking about the landowners,
Shouted suddenly. -
Who are we to listen to?
Who to love? hope
Peasantry on whom?
We drink troubles
We wash with tears
Where should we rebel?
All yours, all master's -
Our old houses
And sick bellies
And we ourselves are yours!
The grain that is thrown into the ground
And garden vegetables
And hair on unkempt
Man's head -
Everything is yours, everything is master's!
In the graves of our great-grandfathers,
Old grandfathers on the stoves
And in the shaky little children -
Everything is yours, everything is master's!
And we, like a fish in a net,
Owners in the house!
Burmistra obedient speech
The landlord liked
Healthy eye on the elder
Looked with favor
And the left calmed down:
How the moon has become in the sky!
Pouring with your own hand
A glass of overseas wine
"Drink!" - the barin says.
Wine sparkles in the sun
Thick, oily.
Klim drank, did not wince
And again he said: “Fathers!
We live for your grace
Like Christ in the bosom:
Try it without a master
Peasant live like this!
(And again, a natural rogue,
I took a sip of overseas wine.)
Where are we without gentlemen?
Boyars - cypress,
They stand, do not bend their heads!
Above them - the king alone!
And the men are elm -
And they bend and they stretch
They creak! Where is the mat to the peasant,
There the gentleman is happy:
The ice breaks under the man
It crackles under the master!
Fathers! leaders!
If we didn't have landlords,
Let's not make bread
Don't stock up on herbs!
Guardians! guardians!
And the world would have collapsed long ago
Without the mind of the master,
Without our simplicity!
It's written for you
Watch over the stupid peasantry,
And we work, obey,
Pray for the Lord!
Yard, that of the master
Standing behind a chair with a branch
Suddenly he sobbed! Tears are rolling
On the old face.
"Let us pray to the Lord
For the longevity of the master! -
Said lackey sensitive
And he began to be baptized decrepit,
Trembling hand.
black mustache guardsmen
Somehow looked sour
For a faithful servant;
However, there is nothing to be done! -
They took off their caps and made the sign of the cross.
The ladies were baptized.
The nanny crossed herself
Klim was baptized...
Yes, and blinked Orefievna:
And the women who squeezed through
Closer to the gentlemen
Began to be baptized too
One even sobbed
Like a yard.
(“Hurr! widow Terentievna!
The old woman is crazy!” -
Vlas said angrily.)
From the clouds the sun is red
Suddenly looked out; music
Long and quiet
Heard from the river...
The landlord was so moved
That the right eye is tearful
Wiped him with a handkerchief
Daughter-in-law with a loose braid
And kissed the old lady
In this healthy eye.
"Here! he said solemnly
To the sons of their heirs
And young daughters-in-law. -
I wish you could see
Jesters, metropolitan lied,
What is called wild
Fortress us,
To be seen, to be heard…”
The Last One twitched.
Jumped up, stared at his face
Forward! Like a lynx, looking out
Prey. left eye
Wheeled ... "S-skate him!
S-skat bun-tov-shchi-ka!
The steward went into the crowd;
Not looking for someone to blame
And he thinks: how to be?
Came to the ranks of the last,
Where were our wanderers
And kindly said:
"You are strangers,
What will he do with you?
Come on somebody!"
Our wanderers hesitated
Would like to rescue
Unfortunate wahlaks,
Yes, the master is stupid: sue later,
How to slap a hundred good
With all the honest world!
“Come on, Romanushka! -
Gubin brothers said. -
Go! you love the bar!
- No, try it yourself! -
And our wanderers became
Send friend to friend.
Klim spat: “Come on, Vlasushka,
Guess what we're going to do here?
And I'm tired; I don't have urine!"
Well, yes, you lied! -
“Oh, Vlas Ilyich! where are the bugs? -
The steward said with annoyance. -
We are not in their hands, or what? ..
The last time will come:
Let's all go to the pothole,
We won't go out
Let's fall into hell,
So waits for the peasant there too. Wait! I will rescue you!
Suddenly announced briskly
Burmistrova godfather
And ran to the master,
Boom in the legs: - Red sun!
Sorry, don't lose!
My only son
Son screwed up!
The Lord is without reason
Released into the world! Stupid:
Coming from the bath - it itches!
Laptishko, instead of a ladle,
Get drunk!
Work doesn't work
Know white teeth grin,
Ridiculous ... so God gave birth!
There is little joy in the house:
The hut fell apart
It happens that there is nothing -
Laughing fool!
Will anyone give a penny,
Will it hit on the crown -
Laughing fool!
Ridiculous ... what can you do with it?
From a fool, darling,
And grief rushing with laughter!
Such a smart lady!
Yelling like a bachelorette party
Kisses the feet of the master.
“Well, God is with you! Go! -
The Last One said kindly. -
I don't get mad at a fool
I'm laughing at him myself!"
"You are so kind!" - said
Daughter-in-law black-haired
And stroked the old man
On a white head.
black mustache guardsmen
The word was also inserted:
Where is the village fool
Understand the words of the Lord
Especially the Afterlife
Such clever words?
And Klim is a hollow cloth
Oter shameless eyes
And muttered: “Fathers!
Fathers! sons of atheism!
They know how to punish
They know how to have mercy!”
Happy old man!
He asked for sparkling wine.
Corks spun high
They hit grandma.
The women squealed in fright,
They shied away. old lady
Laughed! Behind him
The ladies laughed.
Behind them are their husbands,
Then a devoted butler,
Then feeders, nannies,
And there - and all the people!
It's fun! ladies,
By order of the master,
The peasants were given
Teenagers were given gingerbread,
Girls of sweet vodka,
And the women also drank
By the glass of a simpleton ...
The latter drank and clinked glasses,
He pinched beautiful daughters-in-law.
(- That's it! Whatever the old
Drink the medicine, - Vlas noted, -
He drinks wine by the glass.
For a long time already any measure
Both in anger and in joy
Lost the last.-)
Music thunders on the Volga.
The girls sing and dance
Well, in a word, a feast by a mountain!
Join the girls
Wanted the old man, got to his feet
And almost flew!
The son supported the parent.
The old man stood: stomped,
Whistled, snapped,
And the eye made its own -
Spinning wheel!
"Why aren't you dancing? -
Said the Last to the ladies
And young sons. -
Dance!” Nothing to do!
They walked to the music.
The old man made fun of them!
Rocking like on deck
In restless weather,
He imagined how they amused
In his time!
"Sing, Lyuba!" I didn't want to
Sing to the blond lady
Yes, the old one is so stuck!
The lady sang beautifully!
That song caressed the ear,
Soft and gentle
Like the wind on a summer evening
lightly running
By the velvet ant,
Like the sound of spring rain
By young leaves!
To that beautiful song
The Last One fell asleep. Carefully
They took him to the boat
And laid sleepy.
Above him with a green umbrella
There was a yard devotee,
Waving the other hand
Horseflies and mosquitoes.
The brave ones sat silently
rowers; music played
Hardly audible ... the boat started moving
And slowly swam...
At the blond lady
A scythe, like a flag unfurled,
Played in the wind...
“I respected the Last! -
The steward said. - The Lord is with you!
Courage, kohlobrod!
Do not know about the new will,
Die as you lived, landowner,
To the songs of our slaves,
To the music of servile -
Yes, just hurry up!
Let the peasant rest!
Well, brothers! bow to me
Say thanks, Vlas Ilyich:
I made the world happy!
Stand before the Last
Attack ... the language will take root,
And more laughter will pour.
This eye ... how to wrap,
Trouble! You look and think:
“Where are you, my only friend?
According to your own needs
Al on other people's business?
You must have gotten
Courier road!..“
I almost burst out laughing.
Man I'm drunk, windy,
In the barn the rats are starving
Dead, empty house,
And I would not take it, God is my witness,
I am for such hard labor
And thousands of rubles
If I didn't know for sure
What am I in front of the last
I stand ... that he swaggers
By my will…”
Vlas answered thoughtfully:
- Boast! How long have we
We are not alone - the whole estate ...
(Yes... the entire peasantry is Russian!)
Not in jest, not for money,
Not three or four months
And a whole century ... but what is there!
Where can we boast
No wonder Vahlaki! -
However, Klima Lavina
The peasants are half drunk
Respected: "Swing it!"
And well, download ... "Hurrah!"
Then the widow Terentievna
With Gavrilka, a youngster,
Klim planted in a row
And the bride and groom
Congratulations! fooled around
Enough men.
They took everything, they drank everything,
What the gentlemen left
And only in the late evening
Came to the village.
The family met them
Unexpected news:
The old prince is dead!
"How so?" - Carried out of the boat
His already lifeless -
Got the second hit! -
Peasants smitten
They looked at each other… they are baptized….
Sigh... Never
Such a friendly sigh
deep-deep
The poor woman did not emit
Illiterate province
Vakhlaki village…
But their joy is Vakhlatskaya
Was short lived.
With the death of the Last
The caress of the lord was gone:
Didn't get a hangover
Vahlakam Guards!
And behind the meadows
Heirs with peasants
Struggling to this day.
Vlas intercedes for the peasants,
Lives in Moscow ... was in St. Petersburg ...
And there is no point!
