Chapter 20 Taras Bulba - Section XI

At the time of the events we describe, the frontiers were free of any tax collectors and patrolmen, such dire menaces to businessmen, and therefore every man was free to carry whatever he wished.If a man comes to search and examine, he does so mostly for his own pleasure, especially if there is something in the car that tempts his eyes, or if his arms are of considerable weight and strength.However, Brick and Tile couldn't find anyone he liked, so he walked into the main gate without hindrance.Bulba could hear nothing else from his small shelter but the noise and the shouting of the charioteers.Leaning on the back of the little dust-covered thousand-mile horse, Jankel turned a few turns and stung a dark and narrow street called Dirty Street, or Jewish Street. ", because virtually all the Jews from all over Warsaw live here.The street resembled the terrace of a stinking dug-up backyard, and the sun never seemed to come here at all.Some black wooden houses with countless wooden poles sticking out of the windows deepened the darkness.There is now and then a stack of red walls among these wooden houses, but even these red walls are completely blackened in many places.Sometimes, just a small piece of plastered wall on top, is illuminated by the sun, shining blindingly white.Here is a mess: chimneys, rags, husks, abandoned casks.Anyone who has anything they don't use throws it in the street, so that passers-by will appreciate all the emotions this waste arouses in them.A man on horseback could almost touch with his hands the wooden poles that straddled the street from house to house, some of which hung Jewish socks and shorts and a smoked goose.When I was alive, a Jewish woman's pretty little face decorated with blackened glass beads was peeped out of the small dilapidated window.A group of grime-smeared, shabby-clad, curly-haired Jewish children were rolling in the mud, shouting.A red-haired Jew, freckled all over his face so that it looked like a bird's egg, looked out of the window, and immediately began talking to Jankel in an unintelligible dialect, and Jankel immediately drove away. Went into a yard.Another Jew passing in the street stopped and joined in the conversation, and when Bulba finally crawled out from under the bricks he saw three Jews talking vigorously.

Yang Kaier turned around and said to him that everything that could be done would be done for him. His Ostap was locked in the city prison. Although it was difficult to bribe the guards, he hoped that he could arrange A chance to meet. Bulba entered the house with three Jews. The few Jews were talking among themselves again in a language they did not understand.Taras looked at each of them.Something seemed to move him deeply: in his rough and indifferent face kindled a fierce flame of hope, the kind of hope that sometimes comes to a heart in the midst of desperate despair; The old heart begins to beat as violently as a young heart.

"Listen, Jew!" he said, with fever in his voice, "you can do everything in the world, even dig things out of the bottom of the sea. As the saying goes, the Jew is determined to steal, He can even steal it himself. Rescue me of my Ostap! Give him a chance, let him escape from the devil, I promised twelve thousand gold coins to this man, I will Now add another twelve thousand. I will sell everything I own, the precious gold cup and the gold buried in the ground, the house and the last piece of clothing, and I will sign a life-long contract with you to keep me in the world. Everything gained in the war will be divided equally with you."

"Oh, no, my dear master, no!" sighed Jankel. "No, no!" said another Jew. All three Jews looked at each other. "How about a try?" said the third Jew, looking timidly at the other two. "Maybe God will help!" All three Jews began to speak German.No matter how sharp his ears were, Bulba couldn't understand anything; he heard the one word "Maldohai" that was often said, and he couldn't understand anything else. "Listen, sir!" said Jankel, "it is necessary to consult with a man who has never existed in the world. Alkaline, look! This man is as wise as Solomon, and if he can't help it, then the world will Whoever it is, there is nothing that can be done. Sit here; here is the key, and no one will let it in!"

① Solomon (960-915 BC), the ancient wise man. Three Jews went out into the street. Taras locked the door and looked out the little window at the dirty Jewish street.Three Jews stopped in the middle of the street and talked very excitedly; a fourth soon joined them, and finally a fifth was added.He heard one word repeated again and again: "Maldohai, Maldohai." The Jews kept looking up the street; at last, at the end of the street, a bird appeared from an old crumbling house Feet wearing Jewish shoes, the back of the gown slowly swayed.Do it, Maldohai, Maldohai! shouted all the Jews. A thin Jew, slightly shorter than Jankel, but with more wrinkles on his face and a particularly thick upper lip, walked towards the anxious and impatient crowd. Come here, and all the Jews rushed up to tell him. At this time, Mardohe looked at the small window several times, and Taras guessed that he must be talking about him. Mardohe gesticulated and listened , interrupting the conversation, often spitting aside, and raising the back of the gown, reaching into the pockets for tinkling trinkets, while revealing the disgusting trousers. At last, All the Jews uttered such a cry that the Jew standing on the other side had to signal for silence. Taras began to worry about his own safety, but then remembered that the Jews had something They are used to negotiating things on the street, and they speak a language that even the devil can't understand, so they feel at ease again.

Two minutes later several Jews came into his room together.Mardohai walked up to Taras, patted him on the shoulder, and said: "When we and God want to do something, it will happen." Taras looked at Solomon, who had never existed in this world, and gained some hope.Indeed, his appearance gave some confidence: his upper lip was terrific; the degree of fatness was no doubt augmented by foreign causes." This Solomon had only fifteen beards, and all of them were on the left. . Solomon's face bears so many marks of beatings of valor that he no doubt has long since lost count, and is accustomed to regard them as birthmarks of birth."

Mardohai went out together with his companions who admired his wisdom.Bulba was left alone.He was in a strange, unprecedented situation: for the first time in his life he felt uneasy.His soul was in a state of fever.He was not the indomitable, steadfast, oak-like man he had been before, he was timid, he was weak now.He heard the sound of some birds blowing, and he trembled every time he saw a new Jew figure appear at the end of the street.He finally spent the whole day in this state; neither eating nor drinking.For an hour he did not take his eyes off the little window facing the street.Finally, it was not until very late at night that Mardohai and Yang Kaier came back.Taras' heart stopped beating suddenly.

"How? Did it work?" he asked them with the impatience of a wild horse. However, before the Jews got up to answer, Zenglas noticed that the last lock of hair on Mardohai's head was gone. Although the lock of hair was not clean, it was still curled up just now because Hanging under his felt hat.Evidently he wanted to say something, but in the end he babbled so much that Taras could hardly understand it.Even Yang Kaier often put his hand to his mouth, as if he had a cold. " "Oh, my dear sir!" said Jankel, "it's all over now! Really, all over! These people are so bad that they ought to be spit on their heads, and Maldorhey would say the same. Mardohai has done what no one in the world has ever done; but God will not help in vain. Three thousand soldiers are stationed there, and they will all be killed tomorrow."

Pelas looked straight into the eyes of the two Jews, but his impatience and anger had ceased. "If the master is willing to meet once, then tomorrow must be early in the morning, before the sun comes out. I have already agreed with the sentinels, and the captain of the guard has also agreed. After these people die, they will still be tortured in the underworld." Yes, hello Mir! What greedy people! We don't find such people in our gang: I gave them fifty ducats apiece, and the captain of the guard..." ① German: interjection. "Good. Lead me to him!" said Taras firmly, and all fortitude revived in his soul again.He agreed to Jankel's suggestion to pretend to be a foreign lord from Germany, and the prudent Jew had already prepared all the costumes for him.It was already late at night.The owner of the house, the well-known red-haired Jew with freckles, took out a thin mattress covered with a straw mat, and spread it on the bench for Bulba.Yang Kaier spread the same mattress and lay on the ground.The red-haired Jew drank a small glass of wine, took off his long coat, and wore only socks and shoes. He looked like a chick, and went with his Jewish woman into what looked like a cupboard.Two Jewish children were curled up on the floor next to the cupboard like two house dogs.Taras, however, did not sleep; he sat motionless, and tapped his hand on the table lightly; he held his pipe in his mouth, and puffed on it, making the Jew sneeze in his sleep, and pulled the quilt over his head. Nose covered.The sky had just revealed a pale dawn, and he had already pushed Yang Kaier awake with his feet.

"Get up, Jew, and give me your frilly clothes." He was dressed in a minute; his beard and eyebrows were blackened, and a little black cap was put on his forehead, so that Not even the closest Cossacks could recognize him.From his appearance he seemed to be no more than thirty-five years old.A healthy blush floated on his cheeks, and even the few scars added majesty.Gold-embroidered clothes fit him well. The streets are still asleep.No merchant has yet appeared in the city with a basket in his hand.Bulba and Yang Kaier walked in front of a building that looked like a squatting mandarin duck.It was low, broad, huge, and swarthy, and on one side rose a long, thin spire like the neck of a crane, with a roof protruding from the spire.This building performed many and various functions; it was barracks, prison, criminal court, and the two men, entering the gate, found themselves in a large hall, or rather a Covered yard.About a thousand people sleep together.There was a low door in front, and in front of it sat two sentinels, playing a game of slapping each other's palms with two fingers.They paid little attention to the people walking by, and they turned their heads only when Yang Kaier said the following to them:

"This is us. Listen, sir, this is us." "Go!" said one of them, opening the door with one hand, while offering the other to his partner for the blow. They entered a narrow, dark corridor, which led them into a similar hall with small windows at the top. "Who is it?" several voices cried, and Taras saw a considerable number of light soldiers in full armor. "The higher-ups ordered that no one should be let in." "It's us!" cried Jankel, "really, we, my lords." However, no one would listen.Fortunately, a fat man came by at this time. From all appearances, he seemed to be an officer, because he was more powerful than anyone else in swearing. "My lord, this is us, you already know us, and the Count will thank you very much." "Let them go, fuck it! Don't let anyone go in the future. Don't throw sabers around, and don't fight..." The second half of the stern command was lost to both of them. "This is us... this is me... this is our own!" Yang Kaier said to everyone he met. "Well, now?" he asked a sentry when they finally reached the end of the corridor. "Okay; but I don't know if they will let you go to prison. Now Yang is not here, and another person is on duty instead of him." The sentry replied. "Ah, ah!" whispered the Jew, "this is terrible, my dear sir!" "Lead me!" Taras insisted. The Jews had to obey. Beside the tapered door at the top of the basement stood a light-armed soldier with a three-tier beard.The first layer of mustache is tilted backward, the second layer is protruding forward, and the third layer is dragging downwards. This appearance makes him look like a cat. The Jew, bending low, almost sideways, came up to him: "My lord, my lord!" "Hey Jew, are you talking to me?" "It's your return, my lord!" "Hmph...but I'm only a light soldier!" said the triple-bearded fellow with a happy gleam in his eyes. "To be honest, I thought you were the governor himself, oh, oh, oh..." Speaking of which, the Jew shook his head and spread his fingers, "Hey, you are very handsome, to be honest, you seem to be a Lieutenant, indeed a regimental captain! Just one more step up, and you'll be a regimental captain! Your lord should mount a fine horse that's as fast as the wind, and command a regiment." The light-armed soldier cleared the third tier of Hu Bo, while his eyes shone with joy. "What a marvelous soldier!" went on the Jew, "oh, what a fine Aim, Emil! Gold thread, little pieces of iron . , that's... alas, alas!..." The Jew shook his head again. The light-armed soldier twisted the first pry with one hand, and made a sound like a horse neighing from between his teeth. "My lord, please do me a favor," said the Jew, "this lord has come from a foreign country to see a Cossack. He has never seen a Cossack in his life." The appearance of foreign counts and barons is a very common thing in Poland.Often they come here simply out of curiosity, to see this corner of Europe that is almost half-Asian: they think that Moscow and Ukraine are already within the Asian map.Therefore, the lightly armed soldier gave a deep salute, thinking that it would be appropriate for him to come back and answer a few words. "My lord," he said, "I don't know why you want to see them. They are dogs, not men. Their religion is respected by no one." "You nonsense, bastard!" said Bulba, "you are a dog yourself! How dare you say that our beliefs are not respected? People do not respect your cult's beliefs!" "Aha!" said the light soldier, "I see, my friend, who you are: you are one of the gang that is shut up here. Wait, I will fetch our men." Taras perceived his neglect, but obstinacy and anger prevented him from remedying the loophole.Fortunately, Yang Kaier quickly interjected at this moment. "My lord! How can a count be a Cossack? If he is a Cossack, where did he get his clothes, and how can he have such a fearsome appearance?" "Go and tell yourself these words!..." The lightly armed soldier opened his mouth to shout. "Your Excellency, be silent, be silent, for God's sake!" cried Jankel, "be silent! We will pay you a lot of money for this, and you have never seen such a large sum." : We will give you two gold coins." "Aha! Two ducats! Two ducats are nothing to me: I'll give the barber two ducats for shaving off half of my beard. Give me a hundred ducats, Jew!" The light-armed soldier twitched the fool on the top, "If you don't give a hundred gold coins, I'll call someone!" "Why so much!" said the Jew, pale and mournful, as he undid his leather purse; but luckily, there was no more money in his purse, and it was impossible for the light soldier to count more than More than one hundred gold coins. "My lord, my lord! Let's go! Look, what a bad man this is!" Yang Kaier said hastily when he saw the light soldier fiddled with the money in his hands, as if he regretted not asking for more. "What's the matter with you, light-armed soldier," said Bulba, "you took the money and didn't take us to see the people? No, you should show us to the people. You took the money from people, and now you have no right." Refused." "Go away, go to the devil! If you make trouble again, I'll show you how bad it is, and tell you on the spot... Get up and go, I tell you, hurry up!" "Master! Master! Let's go! Really, let's go! Damn it! Give him nightmares of things so disgusting that he'll spit!" cried poor Jankel. Bulba, with his head down, turned slowly and walked back, with Jankel chattering behind him, and when he thought of the lost gold coins, a pang of sadness surrounded him. "Why offend him? Let that bastard swear! He's the kind of man he can't do without swearing! Oh, V. Mir, what good luck God has brought to man! Give him a hundred a piece of gold, and it just drove us away! But our brethren, who tore off his braids and beat his face to pieces, never gave him a hundred pieces of gold. Oh, my God! Merciful Oh, God!" But Bulba was much more affected by this defeat; this was seen in the devouring fire that shone in his eyes. "Let's go!" he said suddenly, as if rousing himself. "Let's go to the square. I want to see how they torture him." "Oh, sir! Why go? It won't do us any good." "Let's go!" said Bulba stubbornly.Then the Jew, sighing like a nurse, followed him. It was not difficult to find the square where the execution was scheduled: people flocked there from all directions.It was, in that barbarous age, a most attractive spectacle, not only to the common people, but also to the upper classes.Many pious old women, many timid old girls and young daughters-in-law will dream of bloody corpses all night long, screaming in terror in their sleep, only drunk fat horsemen can shout so loudly, but they still refuse to let go. opportunity to satisfy curiosity. "Oh, what pain!" cried many of them, covering their eyes and turning their faces away, with hysterical frenzy.However, sometimes it still stood there for a long time.Some people also opened their mouths and stretched their arms forward, as if they wanted to jump on everyone's heads for a closer look.A butcher, poking his fat face out of a mass of narrow, thin, and ordinary heads, observing the whole process with the air of a connoisseur, talked to the gunsmith in short sentences, and he The man called him "god-in-law" because they had drank together in a tavern at a festival.Some talked enthusiastically, others even wagered; but most of them were people who were used to looking at the whole world and everything that was going on in it with their fingers in their nostrils.At the very front, next to a group of bearded soldiers who formed the city guard, stood a young Polish gentleman in military uniform, or rather a gentleman-looking man, who definitely had all his clothes on All that remained of his apartment was a torn shirt and a pair of old leather boots.Two chains were hung around his neck, one on top of the other, and an ancient coin was strung on it. He stood with his girlfriend You Suxia, looking around constantly, in case someone stained her silk clothes , he had explained everything to her so clearly that he had absolutely nothing to add. "Hey, Yousuxia darling," he said, "these people you've seen come to see how to execute criminals. Oh, darling, look, there's a man with a long-handled ax and other things in his hand. The tool is the executioner, and he will come to execute the execution later. When he tortured the prisoner with the car and other punishments, the prisoner was still alive; but if he lost his head, then, baby, he immediately screamed It's a pity. First he still has to scream and struggle, but as soon as the head is broken off, he can neither scream, eat, or drink, because, baby, he doesn't have a head anymore." You Suxia conceived Listening to all this with fear and curiosity.The roof was full of people.Grotesque faces with shaggy beards and nightcap-like faces peeped through the skylights.The aristocracy sat on terraces, under tents.A smiling lady shining like white sugar stretched out a beautiful slender hand and leaned on the railing, while some strong and dignified gentlemen looked on dignifiedly.A richly dressed servant with turned-back sleeves busily delivers drinks and food of all kinds.A naughty girl with dark eyes, she often grabs abada-txt hearts and fruits with her smooth little hands and throws them among the crowd.A group of hungry knights held up their hats to meet them. A tall gentleman in a faded red coat trimmed with blackened gold thread poked his head out from the crowd, leaning on his arm to grow, the first One snatched it, and he imprinted many kisses on the snatched prize, pressed it to his heart, and put it in his mouth.An eagle hanging in a gold wire cage under the terrace is also one of the spectators: it tilts its nose, raises a claw, and watches people carefully from the sidelines.But suddenly the crowd became agitated, and voices came from all directions: "Bring...bring! . . . Cossacks! . . . " They came with bald heads, forehead hair, and long beards.They did not cower, nor gloomily, but walked forward with a quiet pride; their garments of rich woolen cloth were tattered, and hung about them in rags.They don't pay attention to people and don't salute.At the forefront is Ostap. How did Taras feel when he saw his Ostap?What was it like in his heart at that time?He watched him from the crowd, not missing any of his movements.They have approached the execution ground.Ostap stopped.First it was his turn to drink from this cup.He looked at his fellows, raised his hand upwards, and said loudly: "God, don't tell all the cultists standing here, these godless bastards, to hear Christians groaning in pain! Don't any of us snort!" After speaking, he approached the guillotine.Whoa, son, whoa! ' said Bulba softly, letting his white-haired head hang down. The executioner stripped him of his rags; someone came and bound his hands and feet to a special gallows, and then... We do not intend to disturb the hearts of our readers with visions of hellish agony, who see These sights are eerie.These scenes are the product of that barbaric and cruel era at that time. In that era, people still lived a bloody life dedicated to promoting military exploits. They were mentally accustomed to this life and had no time to care about humanity.The rare few who are the exceptions of this age stand in vain against this dreadful punishment.The king and many sane and enlightened knights thought in vain that this cruel punishment would only fuel the vengeance of the Cossack nation. Nothing compared with the barbaric will, the rashness, the extreme lack of foresight, the childish vanity, and the senseless arrogance of these ministers, have turned Parliament into a caricature of the government.Ostap suffered torture and torture like a giant.Not a cry, not a moan was heard, not even when the bones of his hands and feet were broken, when the terrible snapping of the bones was heard through the deathly crowd even to the farthest onlookers, when the women turned their When he opened his eyes—no sound resembling a moan came out of his mouth, and his face didn't even tremble.Standing in the crowd, with his head bowed, while proudly raising his eyes, Taras just said approvingly: "Hi, son, yah!" However, when he was suffering the final death, his strength seemed to begin to fail.He glanced around: Oh my god, it's full of people I don't know, strange faces!When he is dying, as long as there is a relative by his side, it will be fine!He did not want to hear the weeping and lamenting of a weak mother, or the mad howls of a wife tearing her hair and beating her white breast; he wanted now to see a strong man, refreshed by wise words, time to comfort him.Then his strength died away, and he cried in a state of weakened soul: "Father! Where are you? Do you hear that?" "I'm listening!" cried the general silence, and the crowd of thousands trembled. A part of the cavalry came to examine the crowd carefully.Yankel's face was as pale as death, and when they had run a little farther away from him, he turned to look at Taras in terror; but Taras was no longer with him: he had disappeared. There was no trace.