Chapter 15 Taras Bulba - Section VI

Andrey followed closely behind the Tatar woman, carrying a bread bag on his back, and walked with difficulty in the dark and narrow underground tunnel. "We will soon see light," said the guide, "and we are almost at the point where I have left a candlestick." Sure enough, the dark earthen wall began to light up gradually.They came to a small clearing where there seemed to have been a chapel; at least against the wall stood a small, narrow altar-like table, on top of which was visible an almost completely polished, faded Statue of the Virgin Mary.A small silver chandelier hung in front, dimly illuminating the Madonna.The Tatar woman stooped and picked up from the ground the copper candlestick which had been left here. This candlestick had a thin and high foot, and around it were chains bound the tongs, the wicker, and the extinguisher.She picked up the candlestick and lit it over the flame of the everlasting lamp.The light increased, and they walked together, now brightly illuminated by the fire, now shrouded in charcoal shadows, like a painting by Gherardo della eotteo.The fresh, beautiful face of the knight, conceived of health and youth, contrasted sharply with the weary and pale face of his companion, and the aisle was opened a little so that Andrei could straighten his back up.He looked at the earthen walls with curiosity, they reminded him of the caves in Kyiv.Just like in the caves of Kyiv, there are many hollows in the walls here, and coffins are placed in them; there are even places where you can almost meet the bones of people softened and crushed by moisture. Obviously, here too There have been saints, too

① Gerardo Honsolst (1590-1656), a Dutch painter.His paintings exploit the strong contrast of light and shadow. dellaeotte is his nickname, which means "night" in Italian. It is also a recluse to escape the turmoil, sorrow and temptation of the world.In some places it was so wet that their feet were sometimes completely submerged.Andrei had to stop frequently to give his increasingly weary companion a break.A morsel of bread she swallowed could only ache in her long-deprived stomach, and she often remained motionless in one place for several minutes, unable to move on. Finally, a narrow iron gate appeared in front of them. "Thank goodness, we've made it at last," said the Tatar woman in a weak voice, raising her hand to knock, but without strength.Andrea knocked hard on the door for her several times; then a rumbling sound proved that there was a large open space behind the door.The rumble seemed to touch some high arches and change the sound.After about two minutes, only the jingling of keys was heard, as if someone had come down the steps.At last the door opened; and they were greeted by a monk, key and candle in hand, standing on the narrow steps.Andrei stopped involuntarily at the sight of the Catholic monks, who aroused the strong contempt mingled with monkish hatred among the Cossacks, who were generally treated more cruelly than the Jews.Seeing the Zaporosh Cossack, the monk involuntarily backed away a few steps, but the Tatar woman reassured him with a vague word to him.He gave them a light, closed the door behind them, and led them up the steps, whereupon they came under the high dark arches of the monastery chapel.In front of the altar with tall candlesticks and candles, a priest knelt and prayed quietly.Near him, two young chanting monks in purple cloaks and white lace shawls, holding censers in their hands, also knelt on either side.He prayed for miracles to befall the earth, for the salvation of cities, for the revival of demoralized morale, for the endowment of patience, and for the repelling of tempters who incite men to murmur and cowardly weeping over earthly misfortunes.Several ghostly women knelt on the ground, leaning on the backs of the chairs and black wooden stools placed in front of them, fully bending their tired heads; Columns and semi-dew columns, also kneeling on the ground.The stained glass window above the altar was illuminated by the rose-colored dawn of the morning, casting blue, yellow and other colored halos on the ground, and the dusk illuminated the dim chapel.The whole altar close inside suddenly became radiant; the smoke from the censer floated in the air like a splendid cloud.From the dark corner where he was, Andrei could not help but freeze in amazement at the spectacle created by the sun.At this moment, the solemn roar of the organ suddenly filled the whole chapel.The voice grew deeper and larger, became a rumble of thunder, and then the twilight became a celestial movement, like a maiden's shrill song floating high under the round arch, and then became a deep voice again. Roar and thunder, silence down.The thunderous roar still dragged its endless aftertaste under the round arch, and Andrei listened to this solemn music with his mouth half-opened in amazement.

At this time, he felt that someone had pulled his long coat. The small square was completely empty; there was still a small wooden table in the middle, which showed that it might have been a food market only a week ago.The streets that had not been paved at that time looked like a pile of dry mud.Surrounding the square are some small stone and earthen bungalows. The walls are supported by wooden piles and pillars as high as the wall, and the outside is connected with wooden beams crosswise. Residents generally used this format to build houses at that time. That is the format that we still see in some parts of Lithuania and Poland, almost all of these houses have excessively high roofs with many light windows and ventilation openings.On one side, almost near the chapel, stood a building quite different from the others, standing on a particularly high level, probably the Town Hall or some government office of some kind.It had two stories, and above it was a watchtower with two arches, where stood a sentinel; and a huge clock-dial was embedded in the roof.The square seemed dead silent, but Andre heard a faint moan.He took a closer look and found that on the other side of the square, there were two or three people huddled together, lying on the ground almost motionless.He fixed his eyes on it more carefully, trying to see whether they were asleep or dead, when something lying across his feet tripped him.It was the body of a woman, presumably a Jewish woman.She seemed very young, though it was not recognizable from her distorted, thin face.A red silk turban was wrapped around her head; pearls or glass beads were arranged in two rows adorning her earmuffs, from which two or three long, wavy locks of hair fell down to her veined, dry hair. on the neck.Beside her lay a baby, one hand clutching convulsively at her shriveled breast, pinching it with its fingers in a fit of rage because it couldn't suck.He had stopped crying and screaming, just judging from the gently rising and falling of his stomach that he wasn't dead yet, or at least was about to breathe his last.They turned and walked into the street, when they were suddenly stopped by a crazy man who, seeing Andre carrying the precious food, rushed towards him like a tiger, grabbed him and shouted: "Bread!" A madman has no strength to match that madness, and Andre pushed him, and he fell to the ground.Driven by pity, he threw him a piece of bread. The man rushed towards him like a mad dog, chewed it in his mouth, and because he hadn't eaten for a long time, he immediately had a terrible convulsion and died on the street. up.At almost every step, some terrible starving victim surprised them.Many people seemed to be unable to bear the torture at home, so they ran to the street, hoping to see if there was something to nourish their strength, which fell from the sky.An old woman was sitting at the door of a family's house. It was impossible to tell whether she was asleep, dead, or simply dazed: at least she couldn't hear or see anything, and she hung her head on her chest. Sitting in one place all the time without moving.On the roof of another house hung a dead body, straight and emaciated, by a rope tied in a knot.The poor wretch, unable to endure the pangs of hunger all the way, preferred to hasten his own death by suicide.

Seeing this appalling state of famine, Andrey could no longer restrain himself from asking the Tatar woman: "Can't they find anything to keep them alive? If a person reaches the last corner, there is nothing he can do. He can only eat the things he hated before; he can eat those laws. Forbidden things to eat; in those days anything could be considered food." "Everything is eaten up," said the Tatar woman, "and all livestock are eaten up. You won't find a horse, a dog, or even a mouse in the whole city." .We never store any food in the city, everything is brought from the countryside."

"However, in the face of cruel death, why are you so focused on defending the city?" "Yes, the governor may have wanted to surrender a long time ago, but yesterday morning the captain of the regiment stationed in Boujani sent an eagle to the city with a message, telling him not to surrender the city; saying that he led the regiment Reinforcements are coming, but only when another regiment captain arrives. People expect them to arrive any minute now...but we're home." From a distance, Andre saw a house that was quite different from the others, as if it had been built by some Italian architect.The house has two floors and is built of nice thin bricks.The windows of the lower floor are inlaid under high projecting granite cornices; the second floor consists entirely of small arches forming a corridor;The four corners of the house are also carved with coats of arms.The wide brick steps outside the banquet have been connected with the square.At the bottom of the steps stood a sentry on each side. They looked picturesquely and symmetrically with one hand supporting the court leaning beside them, and with the other hand supporting their prostrate heads. It is more appropriate to say that they are living people, rather than two statues.They didn't sleep or doze, but they seemed insensitive to everything: they didn't even notice that someone was coming up the steps.Ascending the steps, they saw a richly dressed soldier, armed from head to toe, holding a prayer book in his hand.He tried to lift his sleepy eyes to look at them, but the Tatar woman said a word to him, and he returned his eyes to the open page of the prayer book.They entered the first large room, which served as a reception room, or simply as an antechamber.It was full of soldiers, servants, hound-keepers, bartenders, sitting against the wall in various poses, and all the necessary items to show the status of the Polish nobility, not only soldiers, but also landowners. other servants.You can smell the fumes of unlit candles.Two other candles were still burning in two candelabrums almost as high as a man in the middle of the room, though morning light had already streamed in through the wide, barred windows.Andrei was waiting to go all the way through the oaken door decorated with coats of arms and many carvings, but the Tatar woman grabbed his sleeve and pointed him to a small door next to it.From this door they entered a corridor, and then into a room which he could hardly discern at a glance.The light coming in through the slits in the shutters illuminated things: the fuchsia curtains, the gilt windows, the pictures on the walls.At this point, the Tatar woman told Andrei to stay, and she opened the door and went into another room where the lights were shining.He heard whispers and soft voices that shook his whole body.From the opened door, he saw how quickly the figure of a well-proportioned and well-proportioned woman flashed, with a thick long braid coiled around her raised arms.The Tatar woman came back and told him to come in.He couldn't remember how he got in, or how the door closed behind him.Two candles were burning in the room; a lamp was burning in front of the statue; under the lamp stood a high little table, with feet for kneeling in prayer, as is the Catholic custom.But that was not what his eyes searched for.Turning his head to the other side, he saw a woman who seemed to freeze in one swift movement, turning to stone.Her whole posture seemed to rush towards him, but she stopped suddenly.Standing in front of her, he also froze in amazement.He expected to see her not like this: this was not like her, not like the woman he had known before; there was nothing in her that resembled that woman, but she was now twice as beautiful and attractive as ever.At that time, there was something unfinished and unfulfilled in her, but now she is the last touch of the painter.At that time she was a charming and frivolous girl; now she is a beautiful woman, a peerless beauty with all kinds of charms.There was fullness of emotion in her upturned eyes, not fragments and hints of emotion, but total emotion.Tears had not yet dried in the sockets, filled with the sparkling moisture that penetrated the soul.The breast, neck, and shoulders presented the beautifully proportioned lines that only a fully developed beauty can possess; her hair, which had fallen over her face in a loose mane, was now braided in a thick lock. The thick braid, one part pulled up, the other part as long as an arm, was unraveled, and the thin, long, beautifully curly hair fell to the chest.Her features seemed to have become completely unrecognizable.He tried to search in it for the features that remained in his memory, but in vain, he couldn't find a feature!No matter how pale her face was, her pallor could not conceal her beauty: on the contrary, it seemed to add to her beauty an indescribable and irresistible taste.Andrei stood motionless in front of her with a reverent terror in his heart.She, too, was struck by the Cossack in all the beauty and strength of a youthful man, whose limbs, though motionless, showed unrestrained vitality; His velvety eyebrows curved in a bold arc, his tanned cheeks shone in all the brilliance of the fire of youth, and his newborn black beard shone like silk.

"No, I can't think of any way to reward you, magnanimous knight," she said, her bell-like voice quivering. "Only God can reward you; I, a weak woman, cannot..." She lowered her eyes; the eyelids, tufted with long arrow-like eyelashes, outlined a beautiful semicircle as white as snow, covering them.Her pretty face was completely bowed, and a thin blush covered it.Andrei couldn't say a word after hearing what she said.He wanted very much to pour out what was in his heart, to speak as passionately as he thought, but he could not.He felt that something was plugging his mouth; he reached his mouth but could not make a sound.He felt that these words were not for a man who had been brought up in a seminary and a wandering life like himself, and he resented his Cossack nature.

At this moment the Tatar woman came into the house.She had cut into pieces the bread and food which the knight had brought, and placed them before the lady on golden platters.Beauty looked at her, at the bread, and raised her eyes to Andrey, and there were many things in those eyes.That look of tenderness, which spoke of her weariness and her inability to express the feelings which had accumulated in her heart, was easier for Andrey to understand than any words.He felt suddenly relieved; it was as if all shackles had been released.Everything that seemed to be restrained by the bridle before was now free and unrestrained, and was about to pour out in endless words, but at this moment, the beauty suddenly turned to the Tartar woman and asked anxiously. road:

"Where's mother? Did you send it to her?" "She's asleep." "Where's father?" "Sent it. He said he was coming to thank the knight himself." She took a piece of bread and put it to her lips.Andrei held his breath, just watched how she tore it up with her white, smooth fingers, and then suddenly remembered the man who was frantically hungry, swallowed a piece of bread, and died on the spot before his eyes.He turned pale, took her by the hand, and cried: "Enough! Don't eat! You haven't eaten for a long time, and now the bread will choke you to death!"

She immediately let go, put the bread on the plate, and looked straight into his eyes like an obedient child.Who can try to express this look with words! ...But no matter whether it is a carving knife, a paintbrush, or strong words, it is impossible to express what sometimes appears in the girl's eyes, and it is impossible to express the kind of person who sees the girl's eyes. excited feelings. "Queen!" cried Andrei, full of true, sincere emotion, "what do you want? What do you wish? Tell me! Give me any difficult task, if there is anything in the world." Let me do it, and I will run to finish it immediately! Ask me to do what no one else can do, and I will do it for you, even if I destroy myself, I will destroy, I will destroy! I swear by the holy cross, it is sweet to me to sacrifice myself for you... But I can't say what I mean! I have three estates, half of my father's horses are mine, and my mother brought them as a dowry Everything that belongs to my father, even everything that she has saved up without his knowledge, is mine. Now among us Cossacks, no one has a weapon like mine: just for the handle of my saber, they will give me the best a herd of horses and three thousand sheep. But a word from you, or a movement of your slender black eyebrows, and I would give it all up, throw it away, throw it away, burn it, drown it! But I know, maybe, What I said was all stupid and presumptuous, all this is not suitable here, and a man like me who has lived in the seminary and Zaporosh cannot be like kings, dukes, and noble knights. Talking. I see that you are a creature of God different from us all, and that all other ladies and ladies are far inferior to you, and we are not even worthy to be your slaves; only angels can serve you!"

With ever-increasing amazement, not wanting to miss a word, the girl listened intently to this frank and sincere speech, which, like a mirror, reflected her young and powerful soul.This passage is spoken with a voice bursting from the bottom of my heart, and every simple word contains infinite power.Her beautiful face stretched forward, and she tossed back her annoying hair, opened her mouth, and sat like that for a long time.Then she was about to say something, but stopped suddenly, remembering that this knight had other missions, and that his father, brother, and the whole country stood behind him like a stern avenger, these besieged Zaporosh People are terrible, and all of them and this city are bound to suffer a cruel death... Then her eyes suddenly filled with tears; she quickly picked up a silk embroidered handkerchief, covered her face, and after a while Drenched; sitting for a long time, with her beautiful head thrown back, her white teeth biting her gorgeous lower lip, as if feeling bitten by a poisonous snake, she refused to remove the handkerchief from her face, because The only thing is to prevent him from seeing her bone-destroying sadness.

"Say something to me!" Andrea said, taking her slippery hand.At the touch of the hand, a blazing fire ran through his veins, and he tightened his grip on the hand that lay in the palm of his without feeling. But she was silent, did not remove the handkerchief from her face, and remained motionless. "Why are you so sad? Tell me, why are you so sad?" She took off the handkerchief from her face, brushed the long braid that fell over her eyes to one side, and then uttered some mournful words in a low voice, which was just like blowing in a beautiful evening. There was a breeze, and suddenly it swept the dense reeds by the stream: rustling, murmurs, suddenly came out a sad and thin voice, and the traveler stopped to listen with incredible melancholy, not noticing that the evening was passing away, nor Hear the merry singing of the people returning home from the work and harvest, and the rattle of carts passing somewhere in the distance. "Shouldn't I complain endlessly? Wasn't the mother who gave birth to me very unfortunate? Wasn't my life bitter? My wicked fate, were you not my cruel executioner? You To bring all men to their knees at my feet: the best nobles of all the Polish nobility, the richest landowners, earls, foreign barons, and the best part of our knightly class. They all want to love me , everyone regards my love as a great happiness. As long as I wave, any one of them, the most beautiful face and the most noble family, will be my husband. But my Fierce fate, you cannot make my heart love any of them; but only a stranger, our enemy, beyond the best warriors of our country. Holy Mother, you For what reason, for what crime, for what great crime, have I been persecuted so mercilessly and mercilessly? I have lived a life of luxury, and food and drink have been my daily bread. But what has all this led to? What is all this for? To meet at last a cruel death that no beggar in Poland suffers. I am destined to face such a terrible fate; I must see my father and mother before I die. to die in the torments of the world, and to save them I would have given my life; but all this was not enough, I must die seeing love as I have never seen, and hearing love as I have never heard Words that have passed. Must let him tear my heart to pieces with words, make my painful fate more painful, make my young life more miserable to me, make my death appear to me It is more terrible, let me reproach you more when I am dying, my evil fate, and you, please forgive my sins, holy mother!" When her voice fell silent, a feeling of deep despair was reflected on her face.Every feature on her face showed that she was shrouded in bone-wracking sorrow, from the sadly drooping forehead and prostrate eyes, to the frozen and dried tears on the slightly warm face, everything seemed to say: "There is no happiness on this face!" "The world has never heard of such a thing, it is impossible, it will not happen," said Andrei, "such a painful fate should befall the most beautiful and best woman, although she I was born to make all the best people in the world bow down in front of her: like bowing down in front of a holy object. No, you won't die! You shouldn't die! With my birth and the world I feel Swear to everything cuter, you won't die! If the end must be death, and no matter what power, prayer, or bravery - can't save the painful fate, then let us die together , let me die first, in front of you, in front of your beautiful lap, even if I die, I can't separate us!" "Don't deceive yourself and me, knight," she said, shaking her fair head slightly, "I know, and the saddest thing is that I know too well that you cannot love me; and I know , what responsibilities and constraints do you have: your father, partner, and motherland are calling you, not to mention we are your enemies!" "What are my father, my comrades, and my country to me?" said Andrei, shaking his head quickly, straightening himself up like the poplars on the bank. "Now that I've come to this point, I'll tell you the truth: there's no one I feel close to! No one, no one!" he repeated in such a voice, accompanied by such a gesture, This is what a swift and indomitable Cossack does when he expresses his determination to do something that others think is unheard of and impossible. "Who said my homeland is Ukraine?" Who gave it to me as my homeland?The so-called fatherland is what our soul longs for, what we love more than anything else.My motherland is you!You are my motherland!I keep this country in my heart, I will keep it as long as I live, and I behold a Cossack can take it away!I will surrender, sacrifice, and destroy everything for such a motherland! " She froze for a moment, looking straight into his eyes like a beautiful statue, and suddenly burst into sobs and tears, with a generosity that was born only for the true love of beauty. Moreover, the wonderful female passion that only a woman who doesn't care about small details, threw herself on his neck, hugged him with her snow-white and beautiful arms, and began to cry.At this moment, there was a vague shouting in the street, mixed with the sound of trumpets and can drums.But he did not hear these voices.He only felt the fragrant and warm breath blowing from the miraculous lips, the tears flowed down his face like a small river, and the fragrant hair hanging from his head entangled him like a black and shiny silk thread. At this moment the Tatar woman uttered a cry of joy and ran up to them. "Saved, saved!" she cried, distraught, "our men have entered the city, bringing bread, millet, flour, and captive Zaporoches." But neither of them heard what kind of "our people" had entered the city, what they had brought, what Zaporoches had been captured.Andre was full of emotions that had never been experienced on earth.Kissed the fragrant lips that pressed to his face, and the fragrant mouth.Lips are not unresponsive either.The other responded equally enthusiastically, feeling in this mingled kiss what one can only feel once in a lifetime. And so the Cossacks perished!For the whole Cossack chivalry is gone forever.He could no longer see the Zaporosh region, his father's estate, and God's church!Ukraine can no longer see its bravest son who defended his country.Old Taras would tear a lock of white hair from his own head, and curse the day and hour of raising such a son to ruin him.