He runs and he shouts: 'A command to the commune!

I told the Pomyeshchick That Widow Terentevna's Cottage had fallen.

And that she is begging Her bread. He commands you To marry the widow To Gabriel Jockoff; 500 To rebuild the cottage, And let them reside there And multiply freely.'

"The bride will be seventy, Seven the bridegroom!

Well, who could help laughing?

Another command: 'The dull-witted cows, Driven out before sunrise, Awoke the Pomyeshchick 510 By foolishly mooing While pa.s.sing his courtyard.

The cow-herd is ordered To see that the cows Do not moo in that manner!'"

The peasants laugh loudly.

"But why do you laugh so?

We all have our fancies.

Yakutsk was once governed, I heard, by a General; 520 He had a liking For sticking live cows Upon spikes round the city, And every free spot Was adorned in that manner, As Petersburg is, So they say, with its statues, Before it had entered The heads of the people That he was a madman. 530

"Another strict order Was sent to the commune: 'The dog which belongs To Sofronoff the watchman Does not behave nicely, It barked at the Barin.

Be therefore Sofronoff Dismissed. Let Evremka Be watchman to guard The estate of the Barin.' 540 (Another loud laugh, For Evremka, the 'simple,'

Is known as the deaf-mute And fool of the village).

But Klimka's delighted: At last he's found something That suits him exactly.

He bustles about And in everything meddles, And even drinks less. 550 There's a sharp little woman Whose name is Orevna, And she is Klim's gossip, And finely she helps him To fool the old Barin.

And as to the women, They're living in clover: They run to the manor With linen and mushrooms And strawberries, knowing 560 The ladies will buy them And pay what they ask them And feed them besides.

We laughed and made game Till we fell into danger And nearly were lost: There was one man among us, Petrov, an ungracious And bitter-tongued peasant; He never forgave us 570 Because we'd consented To humour the Barin.

'The Tsar,' he would say, 'Has had mercy upon you, And now, you, yourselves Lift the load to your backs.

To h.e.l.l with the hayfields!

We want no more masters!'

We only could stop him By giving him vodka 580 (His weakness was vodka).

The devil must needs Fling him straight at the Barin.

One morning Petrov Had set out to the forest To pilfer some logs (For the night would not serve him, It seems, for his thieving, He must go and do it In broadest white daylight), 590 And there comes the carriage, On springs, with the Barin!

"'From whence, little peasant, That beautiful tree-trunk?

From whence has it come?'

He knew, the old fellow, From whence it had come.

Petrov stood there silent, And what could he answer?

He'd taken the tree 600 From the Barin's own forest.

"The Barin already Is bursting with anger; He nags and reproaches, He can't stop recalling The rights of the n.o.bles.

The rank of his Fathers, He winds them all into Petrov, like a corkscrew.

"The peasants are patient, 610 But even their patience Must come to an end.

Petrov was out early, Had eaten no breakfast, Felt dizzy already, And now with the words Of the Barin all buzzing Like flies in his ears-- Why, he couldn't keep steady, He laughed in his face! 620

"'Have done, you old scarecrow!'

He said to the Barin.

'You crazy old clown!'

His jaw once unmuzzled He let enough words out To stuff the Pomyeshchick With Fathers and Grandfathers Into the bargain.

The oaths of the lords Are like stings of mosquitoes, 630 But those of the peasant Like blows of the pick-axe.

The Barin's dumbfounded!

He'd safely encounter A rain of small shot, But he cannot face stones.

The ladies are with him, They, too, are bewildered, They run to the peasant And try to restrain him. 640

"He bellows, 'I'll kill you!

For what are you swollen With pride, you old dotard, You sc.u.m of the pig-sty?

Have done with your jabber!

You've lost your strong grip On the soul of the peasant, The last one you are.

By the will of the peasant Because he is foolish 650 They treat you as master To-day. But to-morrow The ball will be ended; A good kick behind We will give the Pomyeshchick, And tail between legs Send him back to his dwelling To leave us in peace!'

"The Barin is gasping, 'You rebel ... you rebel!' 660 He trembles all over, Half-dead he has fallen, And lies on the earth!

"The end! think the others, The black-moustached footguards, The beautiful ladies; But they are mistaken; It isn't the end.

"An order: to summon The village together 670 To witness the punishment Dealt to the rebel Before the Pomyeshchick....

The heirs and the ladies Come running in terror To Klim, to Petrov, And to me: 'Only save us!'

Their faces are pale, 'If the trick is discovered We're lost!' 680 It is Klim's place To deal with the matter: He drinks with Petrov All day long, till the evening, Embracing him fondly.

Together till midnight They pace round the village, At midnight start drinking Again till the morning.

Petrov is as tipsy 690 As ever man was, And like that he is brought To the Barin's large courtyard, And all is perfection!

The Barin can't move From the balcony, thanks To his yesterday's shaking.

And Klim is well pleased.

"He leads Petrov into The stable and sets him 700 In front of a gallon Of vodka, and tells him: 'Now, drink and start crying, ''Oh, oh, little Fathers!

Oh, oh, little. Mothers!

Have mercy! Have mercy!'''

"Petrov does his bidding; He howls, and the Barin, Perched up on the balcony, Listens in rapture. 710 He drinks in the sound Like the loveliest music.

And who could help laughing To hear him exclaiming, 'Don't spare him, the villain!

The im-pu-dent rascal!

Just teach him a lesson!'

Petrov yells aloud Till the vodka is finished.

Of course in the end 720 He is perfectly helpless, And four peasants carry him Out of the stable.

His state is so sorry That even the Barin Has pity upon him, And says to him sweetly, 'Your own fault it is, Little peasant, you know!'"

"You see what a kind heart 730 He has, the Pomyeshchick,"

Says Prov, and old Vlasuchka Answers him quietly, "A saying there is: 'Praise the gra.s.s--in the haystack, The lord--in his coffin.'

"Twere well if G.o.d took him.

Petrov is no longer Alive. That same evening He started up, raving, 740 At midnight the pope came, And just as the day dawned He died. He was buried, A cross set above him, And G.o.d alone knows What he died of. It's certain That we never touched him, Nay, not with a finger, Much less with a stick.

Yet sometimes the thought comes: Perhaps if that accident 751 Never had happened Petrov would be living.

You see, friends, the peasant Was proud more than others, He carried his head high, And never had bent it, And now of a sudden-- Lie down for the Barin!

Fall flat for his pleasure! 760 The thing went off well, But Petrov had not wished it.

I think he was frightened To anger the commune By not giving in, And the commune is foolish, It soon will destroy you....

The ladies were ready To kiss the old peasant, They brought fifty roubles 770 For him, and some dainties.

'Twas Klimka, the scamp, The unscrupulous sinner, Who worked his undoing....

"A servant is coming To us from the Barin, They've finished their lunch.

Perhaps they have sent him To summon the Elder.

I'll go and look on 780 At the comedy there."

II

KLiM, THE ELDER