"I whisper in answer, 140
'Kind sir, you are joking.
I am to my husband
A wife without stain,
And the peasant Savyéli
Is more than a hundred
Years old;—you can see it.'
"He's stamping about
Like a horse in the stable;
In fury he's thumping
His fist on the table. 150
'Be silent! Confess, then,
That you with Savyéli
Had plotted to murder
Your child!'
"Holy Mother!
What horrible ravings!
My God, give me patience,
And let me not strangle
The wicked blasphemer!
I looked at the doctor 160
And shuddered in terror:
Before him lay lancets,
Sharp scissors, and knives.
I conquered myself,
For I knew why they lay there.
I answer him trembling,
'I loved little Djóma,
I would not have harmed him.'
"'And did you not poison him.
Give him some powder?' 170
"'Oh, Heaven forbid!'
I kneel to him crying,
'Be gentle! Have mercy!
And grant that my baby
In honour be buried,
Forbid them to thrust
The cruel knives in his body!
Oh, I am his mother!'
"Can anything move them?
No hearts they possess, 180
In their eyes is no conscience,
No cross at their throats….
"They have lifted the napkin
Which covered my baby;
His little white body
With scissors and lancets
They worry and torture …
The room has grown darker,
I'm struggling and screaming,
'You butchers! You fiends! 190
Not on earth, not on water,
And not on God's temple
My tears shall be showered;
But straight on the souls
Of my hellish tormentors!
Oh, hear me, just God!
May Thy curse fall and strike them!
Ordain that their garments
May rot on their bodies!
Their eyes be struck blind, 200
And their brains scorch in madness!
Their wives be unfaithful,
Their children be crippled!
Oh, hear me, just God!
Hear the prayers of a mother,
And look on her tears,—
Strike these pitiless devils!'
"'She's crazy, the woman!'
The officer shouted,
'Why did you not tell us 210
Before? Stop this fooling!
Or else I shall order
My men, here, to bind you.'
"I sank on the bench,
I was trembling all over;
I shook like a leaf
As I gazed at the doctor;
His sleeves were rolled backwards,
A knife was in one hand,
A cloth in the other, 220
And blood was upon it;
His glasses were fixed
On his nose. All was silent.
The officer's pen
Began scratching on paper;
The motionless peasants
Stood gloomy and mournful;
The pope lit his pipe
And sat watching the doctor.
He said, 'You are reading 230
A heart with a knife.'
I started up wildly;
I knew that the doctor
Was piercing the heart
Of my little dead baby.
"'Now, bind her, the vixen!'
The officer shouted;—
She's mad!' He began
To inquire of the peasants,
'Have none of you noticed 240
Before that the woman
Korchágin is crazy?'