'Twas Prov of all others
Who listened to Grísha
With deepest attention
And joy most apparent.
And when he had finished
He cried to the others 250
In accents of triumph,
Delightedly smiling,
"Now, brothers, mark that!"
"So now, there's an end
Of 'The Hungry One,' peasants!"
Cries Klímka, with glee.
The words about serfdom
Were quickly caught up
By the crowd, and went passing
From one to another: 260
"Yes, if there's no big snake
There cannot be small ones!"
And Klímka is swearing
Again at the carter:
"You ignorant fool!"
They're ready to grapple!
The deacon is sobbing
And kissing his Grísha:
"Just see what a headpiece
The Lord is creating! 270
No wonder he longs
For the college in Moscow!"
Old Vlass, too, is patting
His shoulder and saying,
"May God send thee silver
And gold, and a healthy
And diligent wife!"
"I wish not for silver
Or gold," replies Grísha.
"But one thing I wish: 280
I wish that my comrades,
Yes, all the poor peasants
In Russia so vast,
Could be happy and free!"
Thus, earnestly speaking,
And blushing as shyly
As any young maiden,
He walks from their midst.
The dawn is approaching.
The peasants make ready 290
To cross by the ferry.
"Eh, Vlass," says the carter,
As, stooping, he raises
The span of his harness,
"Who's this on the ground?"
The Elder approaches,
And Klímka behind him,
Our seven as well.
(They're always most anxious
To see what is passing.) 300
Some fellow is lying
Exhausted, dishevelled,
Asleep, with the beggars
Behind some big logs.
His clothing is new,
But it's hanging in ribbons.
A crimson silk scarf
On his neck he is wearing;
A watch and a waistcoat;
His blouse, too, is red. 310
Now Klímka is stooping
To look at the sleeper,
Shouts, "Beat him!" and roughly
Stamps straight on his mouth.
The fellow springs up,
Rubs his eyes, dim with sleep,
And old Vlásuchka strikes him.
He squeals like a rat
'Neath the heel of your slipper,
And makes for the forest 320
On long, lanky legs.
Four peasants pursue him,
The others cry, "Beat him!"
Until both the man
And the band of pursuers
Are lost in the forest.
"Who is he?" our seven
Are asking the Elder,
"And why do they beat him?"
"We don't know the reason, 330
But we have been told
By the people of Tískov
To punish this Shútov
Whenever we catch him,
And so we obey.
When people from Tískov
Pass by, they'll explain it.
What luck? Did you catch him?"
He asks of the others
Returned from the chase. 340
"We caught him, I warrant,
And gave him a lesson.
He's run to Demyánsky,
For there he'll be able
To cross by the ferry."
"Strange people, to beat him
Without any cause!"
"And why? If the commune
Has told us to do it
There must be some reason!" 350
Shouts Klím at the seven.
"D'you think that the people
Of Tískov are fools?
It isn't long since, mind,
That many were flogged there,
One man in each ten.
Ah, Shútov, you rendered
A dastardly service,
Your duties are evil,
You damnable wretch! 360
And who deserves beating
As richly as Shútov?
Not we alone beat him:
From Tískov, you know,
Fourteen villages lie
On the banks of the Volga;
I warrant through each
He's been driven with blows."