Well the wife did everything exactly as her husband directed her. While she was sitting there drowned in bitter tears, the moujik came into the room.
“What do you want?” says she.
“The money Marko the Rich owes me,” answers the poor man.
“Ah, moujik, Marko the Rich has wished us farewell;[59] he’s only just dead.”
“The kingdom of heaven be his! If you’ll allow me, mistress, in return for my copeck I’ll do him a last service—just give his mortal remains a wash.”
So saying he laid hold of a pot full of boiling water and began pouring its scalding contents over Marko the Rich. Marko, his brows knit, his legs contorted, was scarcely able to hold out.[60]
“Writhe away or not as you please,” thought the poor man, “but pay me my copeck!”
When he had washed the body, and laid it out properly, he said:
“Now then, mistress, buy a coffin and have it taken into the church; I’ll go and read psalms over it.”
So Marko the Rich was put in a coffin and taken into the church, and the moujik began reading psalms over him. The darkness of night came on. All of a sudden a window opened, and a party of robbers crept through it into the church. The moujik hid himself behind the altar. As soon as the robbers had come in they began dividing their booty, and after everything else was shared there remained over and above a golden sabre—each one laid hold of it for himself, no one would give up his claim to it. Out jumped the poor man, crying: