Who conducted the ball at Woland's. Verification work (test) based on the novel M

QUESTIONS ON THE CONTENT OF THE NOVEL

Option 1

Whose words are these: “Freshness, freshness and freshness, that should be the motto of every barman”?

Get to know the hero "... a broad-shouldered, reddish, swirling young man in a checkered cap twisted at the back of his head, in a cowboy shirt, chewed white trousers ..."

Who is this hero: “his face ... was mutilated: his nose was once broken by a blow from a German club”?

Who conducted the orchestra at Woland's ball?

Where is Yeshua from?

Whose head was torn off during a session of black magic?

Where did Woland send Grunya?

What kind of eyes did Woland have?

What was the juice barman punished for?

What was written on the bench on which Margarita sat?

How much did the master win in the lottery?

Get to know the hero: "A barefoot, torn whitish sweatshirt, to which a paper icon depicting an unknown saint is pinned to the chest with a safety pin."

Where did Uncle Berlioz come from?

Recognize the hero: "His mustache is like chicken feathers, his eyes are small, ironic and half-drunk, his trousers are plaid ... dirty white socks are visible."

Where does Yeshua permanently live?

Who is Natasha?

What color was Margarita's coat on the day of the meeting with the master?

Who and to whom says: “Well, what is this? Why did you gild your mustache? Why the hell do you need a tie if you don't have pants on?

What works did the navigator Georges create?

How old is Ryukhin?

Recognize the hero: "... a head taller than the tallest of the soldiers and so broad in the shoulders that he completely blocked the sun."

How many writers were there in MASSOLIT?

What did the master call the time when he was working on the novel?

What did Woland give to Margarita?

How many rooms were in the “bad apartment”?

QUESTIONS ON THE CONTENT OF THE NOVEL

M. A. BULGAKOVA "MASTER AND MARGARITA"

Option 2

1. Whose words are these: “I believe! Something must happen, because why was I sent for lifelong torment?

2. Who was Yeshua's father?

3. Who is Grunya?

4. What was special about Woland's face?

5. Recognize the hero: "... fiery red, in starched underwear, in a striped suit, in patent leather shoes with a bowler hat on his head ...".

6. Recognize the hero: "In a white cloak with a bloody lining, shuffling cavalry gait ...".

7. What was the name of the dog that took part in the investigation of the Variety case?

8. What did Bengalsky's severed head scream?

9. Who owns the words: “The truth is, first of all, that your head hurts, and it hurts so badly that you cowardly think about death”?

10. What was the name of the Ratslayer?

11. What saved Rimsky?

12. Whose words are these: “I am twenty-three years old, and I will file a complaint against you all. And especially on you, nit"?

13. What was Margarita supposed to shout, flying over the gate?

14. What did Woland drink at the ball?

15. Why did Margarita leave the house on the day she met the master?

16. What event changed the master's life?

17. What languages ​​did the master speak?

18. Give the numbers of the wards where the master, Bengalsky, Barefoot were in the Stravinsky clinic.

19. What were the concerns of all those following Berlioz's coffin?

20. What was the master most proud of in his apartment?

21. Get to know the hero: “I only give up because I can’t play in an atmosphere of harassment and envy.”

22. When did the Master finish his novel?

23. Who did Varenukha become after meeting with Gella?

24. On which river was the holiday village of writers?

25. Who showed Margarita Latunsky?

QUESTIONS ON THE CONTENT OF THE NOVEL

M. A. BULGAKOVA "MASTER AND MARGARITA"

Option 3

1. What languages ​​did Yeshua speak?

2. What was the name of the ball hosted by Woland?

3. What trees grew in the courtyard of the house where the master lived?

4. Who took the poet Bezdomny to the hospital?

5. Recognize the hero: "A handsome black-eyed man with a dagger beard ... there was a time when the handsome man did not wear a tailcoat, but was girded with a leather belt, because of which pistol grips protruded."

6. What size was the "huge" master's room?

7. Who was the master by education?

8. How many Margaritas were found in Moscow by Woland's henchmen?

9. What flowers did the master like?

10. Recognize the hero: "Stained with dust, a white tail-coat tie with a bow around the neck, and mother-of-pearl ladies' binoculars on a strap on the chest."

11. What is the real name of the navigator Georges.

12. What did the procurator hate the most?

13. What was the name of Pilate's dog?

14. Whose words are these: “He is the same director as I am a bishop”?

15. Recognize the hero: "small, well-fed, bald, dressed in a gray summer pair, carried his decent hat with a pie in his hand."

16. Name the hero: “And again he imagined a bowl with a dark liquid ... Poison me! Poison!

17. Under what surnames did Begemot and Koroviev register at the restaurant of the house of writers?

18. What was the name of the woman Judas was in love with?

19. Whose words are these: “I don’t believe in anything I write about”?

20. What did Bezdomny and Berlioz drink at the Patriarch's?

21. Whose words are these: “Greetings, queen, and I ask you to excuse me for my home dress”?

22. What was the name of the paramedic whose master stole the keys?

23. What was the name of the poet Homeless?

24. What burned down in Moscow at the behest of Woland?

25. Who, according to Koroviev, did not need any certificate to convince him that he was a writer?

QUESTIONS ON THE CONTENT OF THE NOVEL

M. A. BULGAKOVA "MASTER AND MARGARITA"

Option 4

1. What address did Stepa Likhodeev live at?

2. What was Uncle Berlioz's job?

3. What decoration did Koroviev hang around Margarita's neck before the ball?

4. What was the main wealth of Margarita and was kept secretly in a dark room with no windows?

5. What was Yeshua's main vice?

6. What did Bengalsky do after all the events in Variety?

7. How many dachas were there in the holiday village of writers?

8. What was strange about apartment No. 50?

9. With what gift from Woland did Azazello come to the master and Margarita?

10. How was Margarita washed before the ball?

11. Who became Aloysius?

12. Who was Yeshua's father?

13. Who owned the apartment where Berlioz and Likhodeev lived?

14. What did Margarita do with the money left to her by the master?

15. How many copies of the novel did the typist type?

16. How much did Rimsky send Likhodeeva to Yalta?

17. Recognize the hero: "... shaved, dark-haired, with a sharp nose, anxious eyes and a tuft of hair hanging over his forehead."

18. What did Matthew Levi pray to God for?

19. Where did the master and Margarita first meet?

20. Where and by whom was Ratslayer wounded?

21. Where was Rimsky found after his flight?

22. Where did Woland send Grunya?

23. What cigarette case did Woland have?

24. Who is Aphranius?

25. In what month did the master finish work on the novel?

QUESTIONS ON THE CONTENT OF THE NOVEL

M. A. BULGAKOVA "MASTER AND MARGARITA"

Option 5

1. What did Ivan Homeless prefer to smoke?

2. Who is Anfisa?

3. At what time of the year did the Master and Margarita meet?

4. Where was Varenukha beaten?

5. Whose words are these: “Bravo! You completely repeated the thought of the restless old man Immanuel”?

6. What saved Rimsky from the witch?

7. Where did the master work before he started writing the novel?

8. How many rooms did the master's apartment have?

9. What did Matthew Levi do after listening to Yeshua's speeches?

10. What was the name of the holiday village of writers?

11. How many rooms were there in the mansion where Margarita lived?

12. What was Annushka's nickname?

13. What is the number of Latunsky's apartment.

14. What did Ivan Bezdomny swear to the master?

15. What was the first thing Azazello set fire to in the master's apartment?

16. Who was sitting in the driver's seat in the car given to Margarita?

17. How were the soldiers guarding the place of execution saved from the heat?

18. Recognize the hero: "a skinny and long citizen in a plaid jacket, in a jockey cap and pince-nez."

19. Who picked up the horseshoe lost by Margarita?

20. What did Natasha fly on?

21. What floor was Likhodeev's apartment on?

22. What is the patronymic of Margarita.

23. Get to know the hero: "small, but with athletic shoulders, red as fire, one eye with a thorn, a mouth with a fang ..."

24. How many floors were there in the house where the writers lived?

25. On what did Margarita fly away, smeared with magic cream?

QUESTIONS ON THE CONTENT OF THE NOVEL

M. A. BULGAKOVA "MASTER AND MARGARITA"

Option 6

1. Whose outfit is this: “shoes made of pale rose petals with gold buckles ... a royal diamond crown in her hair, a heavy image of a black poodle on a heavy chain in an oval frame on her chest”?

2. How old is Margarita?

3. With what word was Likhodeev thrown into Yalta?

4. What kind of house is this: “the facade ... is lined with black marble, the doors are wide, behind their glass you can see a cap with a gold galloon”?

5. To whom did Margarita say: “I am dying because of love”?
Recognize the hero: “small, limping, covered in black tights, with a knife tucked into a leather belt, red-haired, with a yellow fang, with a thorn in his left eye.”

6. Get to know the hero: "... a white ghost is walking towards the restaurant."

7. About whom Rimsky exclaimed: “He does not cast a shadow!”?

8. What was the inscription on the house where the writers lived?

9. On what transport did Margarita arrive at the ball?

10. Where did Ivan Nikolaevich Ponyrev work?

11. How did the master and Margarita leave after the fire?

12. Where did Matthew Levi get the knife?

13. What struck the master in the face of Margarita when he first saw her?

14. When did Ivan Nikolaevich Ponyrev experience anxiety and excitement?

15. Who did it happen to: “He had a velvet beret in his hands ... At the same moment, the beret meowed, turned into a black kitten and jumped up on its head ... grabbed its bald head with all its claws”?

16. Whose words are these: “I hated this novel, and I'm afraid. I am sick…"?

17. Who remained at the place of execution two hours later?

18. What was Berlioz's uncle's name?

19. How many passbooks did the barman Sokov have?

20. What Margarita forbade Natasha to take from her things?

21. Recognize the hero: “The door was opened by a girl who was wearing nothing but a coquettish lace apron and a white tattoo on her head ... there were golden shoes on her feet.”

22. "An old two-story cream-colored house was located on the boulevard ring in the depths of a stunted garden." What was in this house?

23. Whose words are these: “Free! Free! He is waiting for you!"?

24. Get to know the hero: "In an expensive gray suit ... a gray beret, a cane with a black knob in the form of a poodle's head."

25. What flowers did Margarita carry when she met the master?

Midnight was approaching, we had to hurry. Margaret vaguely saw something. I remember the candles and some kind of semi-precious pool. When Margarita stood at the bottom of this pool, Hella and Natasha, who was helping her, doused Margarita with some hot, thick, red liquid. Margarita felt a salty taste on her lips and realized that she was being washed with blood. The bloody robe was replaced by another - thick, transparent, pinkish, and Margarita's head began to spin from rose oil. Then Margarita was thrown onto a crystal bed and rubbed to a shine with some large green leaves. Then the cat broke in and began to help. He squatted down at Margarita's feet and began rubbing her feet as if he were polishing boots in the street. Margarita does not remember who sewed shoes for her out of petals of a pale rose, and how these shoes fastened themselves with gold buckles. Some force lifted Margarita up and placed her in front of a mirror, and a royal diamond crown flashed in her hair. Koroviev appeared from somewhere and hung on Margarita's chest a heavy image of a black poodle in an oval frame on a heavy chain. This decoration was extremely burdensome for the Queen. The chain immediately began to rub her neck, the image pulled her to bend. But something rewarded Margarita for the inconvenience that the chain with the black poodle caused her. This is the respect with which Koroviev and Behemoth began to treat her.

Nothing, nothing, nothing! - muttered Koroviev at the door of the room with a pool, - there's nothing to be done, it is necessary, it is necessary, it is necessary. Allow me, queen, to give you one last piece of advice. Among the guests there will be different, oh, very different, but no one, Queen Margot, no advantage! If someone doesn't like it... I understand that you, of course, will not express it on your face... No, no, you can't think about it! Notice, notice at the same moment. You need to love him, love him, queen. The hostess of the ball will be rewarded a hundredfold for this! And one more thing: don't miss anyone. At least a smile, if there is no time to throw a word, at least a tiny turn of the head. Anything, but not inattention. This will make them sick...

Here Margarita, accompanied by Koroviev and Behemoth, stepped out of the pool into complete darkness.

I, I, - the cat whispered, - I will give a signal!

Let's! Koroviev answered in the darkness.

Ball! the cat squealed piercingly, and immediately Margarita screamed and closed her eyes for a few seconds. The ball fell on her immediately in the form of light, along with it - sound and smell. Carried away by the arm of Koroviev, Margarita saw herself in a tropical forest. Red-breasted green-tailed parrots clung to vines, jumped over them and shouted deafeningly: "I am delighted!" But the forest quickly ended, and its stuffy bath was immediately replaced by the coolness of a ballroom with columns of some kind of yellowish sparkling stone. This hall, like the forest, was completely empty, and only naked Negroes in silver bandages on their heads stood motionless near the columns. Their faces turned dirty brown with excitement when Margarita flew into the hall with her retinue, in which Azazello had come from somewhere. Here Koroviev released Margarita's hand and whispered:

Right on the tulips!

A low wall of white tulips grew in front of Margarita, and behind it she saw innumerable capped lights and in front of them the white breasts and black shoulders of the tailcoats. Then Margarita realized where the ballroom sound was coming from. The roar of trumpets fell upon her, and the soaring violins escaping from under it doused her body as if with blood. An orchestra of one and a half hundred people played a polonaise.

A man in a tailcoat towering in front of the orchestra, seeing Margarita, turned pale, smiled, and suddenly raised the entire orchestra with a wave of his hands. Without interrupting the music for a moment, the orchestra, standing, bathed Margarita with sounds. The man above the orchestra turned away from him and bowed low, spreading his arms wide, and Margarita, smiling, waved her hand at him.

No, little, little," Koroviev whispered, "he won't sleep all night. Shout to him: "Greetings to you, the king of waltzes!"

Margarita shouted this and was surprised that her voice, full as a bell, covered the howling of the orchestra. The man trembled with happiness and put his left hand to his chest, continuing to wave his white staff to the orchestra with his right hand.

Little, little, - whispered Koroviev, - look to the left, at the first violins, and nod so that everyone thinks that you recognized him separately. Only world famous people are here. This one, behind the first console, is Viet Tang. Yes, very good. Now further.

Who is the conductor? - flying off, asked Margarita.

Johann Strauss, - cried the cat, - and let them hang me in a tropical garden on a liana, if such an orchestra has ever played at any ball. I invited him! And, mind you, not one got sick and not one refused.

In the next hall there were no columns, instead of them there were walls of red, pink, milky-white roses on one side, and on the other - a wall of Japanese terry camellias. Between these walls, fountains were already beating, hissing, and champagne was boiling in bubbles in three pools, of which the first was transparent purple, the second was ruby, the third was crystal. Negroes in scarlet bandages rushed about them, filling flat bowls from basins with silver scoops. There was a gap in the pink wall, and in it a man in a red coat with a swallowtail was seething on the stage. Jazz blared unbearably loudly in front of him. As soon as the conductor saw Margarita, he bent before her so that his hands touched the floor, then straightened up and shouted piercingly:

Hallelujah!

He slapped his knee once, then crosswise on the other - twice, tore the cymbal out of the hands of the last musician, and struck it on the column.

Flying away, Margarita saw only that the virtuoso jazz band player, struggling with the polonaise that was blowing at Margarita's back, hit the jazz band players on the heads with his plate, and they crouched in comic horror.

Finally they flew out to the landing, where, as Margarita realized, Koroviev met her in the darkness with a lamp. Now, on this platform, the eyes were blinded by the light pouring from the crystal grapes. Margarita was set in place, and under her left arm was a low amethyst column.

You can put your hand on her if it becomes very difficult, whispered Koroviev.

Some black man threw a pillow under Margarita's feet with a golden poodle embroidered on it, and on it, obeying someone's hands, she placed her right leg, bending at the knee. Margarita tried to look around. Koroviev and Azazello stood beside her in formal poses. Next to Azazello are three more young people who vaguely reminded Marguerite Abadonna in some way. It was cold in the back. Glancing back, Margarita saw that sizzling wine was spouting from the marble wall behind her and flowing into an icy pool. At the left leg she felt something warm and furry. It was Behemoth.

Margarita was tall, and a grand staircase covered with a carpet went down from under her feet. Below, so far away, as if Margarita was looking backward through binoculars, she saw a huge Swiss room with a completely immense fireplace, into the cold and black mouth of which a five-ton truck could freely drive. The Swiss and the stairs, filled with light to the point of pain in the eyes, were empty. Trumpets now reached Margarita from afar. So they stood motionless for about a minute.

Where are the guests? Margarita asked Koroviev.

They will, queen, they will now. There will be no shortage of them. And, really, I would rather chop wood than take it here on the site.

Why chop wood, - the talkative cat picked up, - I would like to serve as a conductor in a tram, and there is nothing worse than this work in the world.

Everything must be ready in advance, queen,” Koroviev explained, his eye gleaming through a ruined monocle. “Nothing can be more disgusting than when the first guest who arrives is loitering, not knowing what to do, and his lawful vixen nags him in a whisper for the fact that they arrived before everyone else. Such balls should be thrown in the trash, queen.

Definitely in the trash, - confirmed the cat.

These ten seconds seemed extremely long to Margarita. Apparently, they expired already, and absolutely nothing happened. But then suddenly something crashed down in the huge fireplace, and a gallows jumped out of it with half-crushed ashes hanging on it. This dust fell off the rope, hit the floor, and a black-haired handsome man in a tailcoat and patent leather shoes jumped out of it. A half-decayed small coffin ran out of the fireplace, its lid bounced off, and other ashes fell out of it. The handsome man gallantly jumped up to him and held out his hand in a ball, the second dust folded into a naked fidgety woman in black shoes and with black feathers on her head, and then both, the man and the woman, hurried up the stairs.

First! - exclaimed Koroviev, - Mr. Jacques with his wife. I recommend you, queen, one of the most interesting men! A convinced counterfeiter, a traitor, but a very good alchemist. He became famous for that, - Koroviev whispered in Margarita's ear, - that he poisoned the royal mistress. And it doesn't happen to everyone! Look how handsome!

Pale, Margarita, with her mouth open, looked down and saw both the gallows and the coffin disappear in some side passage of the Swiss.

I am delighted, - the cat yelled right in the face of Mr. Jacques, who had climbed the stairs.

At that moment, a headless skeleton with an arm torn off appeared from the fireplace, hit the ground and turned into a man in a tailcoat.

M. Jacques' wife was already getting down on one knee in front of Marguerite and, pale with excitement, was kissing Marguerite's knee.

Queen, - muttered the wife of Mr. Jacques.

The queen is in admiration, - shouted Koroviev.

Queen ... - the handsome man, Mr. Jacques, said quietly.

We are in awe, the cat howled.

Young people, Azazello's companions, smiling with lifeless but friendly smiles, were already pushing Mr. Jacques and his wife aside, to the cups of champagne, which the Negroes held in their hands. A lone tailcoat was running up the stairs.

Count Robert, - whispered to Margarita Koroviev, - is still interesting. Notice how funny the queen is the reverse case: this one was the queen's lover and poisoned his wife.

We are glad, count, - Behemoth cried.

Three coffins fell out of the fireplace in a row, bursting and disintegrating, then someone in a black robe, whom the next one who ran out of the black mouth stabbed in the back with a knife. A strangled cry was heard from below. An almost completely decomposed corpse ran out of the fireplace. Margarita closed her eyes, and someone's hand brought a vial of white salt to her nose. It seemed to Margarita that it was Natasha's hand. The stairs started to fill up. Now on each step there were, from afar, seemingly identical, tailcoats and naked women with them, differing from each other only in the color of feathers on their heads and shoes.

A lady with monastic downcast eyes, thin, modest, and for some reason with a wide green band around her neck, was approaching Margarita, hobbling, in a strange wooden boot on her left leg.

What green? asked Margarita mechanically.

A most charming and respectable lady, - whispered Koroviev, - I recommend you: Madame Tofana, was extremely popular among young charming Neapolitans, as well as residents of Palermo, and especially among those who were tired of their husbands. After all, it happens, queen, that the husband is tired.

Yes, - Margarita answered dully, at the same time smiling at the two tailcoats, who, one after the other, bowed before her, kissing her knee and hand.

Well, - Koroviev managed to whisper to Margarita and at the same time shout to someone: - Duke, a glass of champagne! I am impressed! Yes, so, sir, Mrs. Tofana entered into the situation of these poor women and sold them some kind of bottled water. The wife poured this water into the soup for her husband, who ate it, thanked for the kindness and felt great. True, after a few hours he began to feel very thirsty, then he went to bed, and a day later the beautiful Neapolitan woman, who fed her husband with soup, was free as a spring wind.

What's on her leg? - Margarita asked, never tired of shaking hands with the guests, who had overtaken the hobbling Mrs. Tofana, - and why this greenery on the neck? Faded neck?

I'm in awe, prince! Koroviev shouted and at the same time whispered to Margarita: “A beautiful neck, but trouble happened to her in prison. On her leg, the queen, is a Spanish boot, and the ribbon is why: when the jailers found out that about five hundred unsuccessfully chosen husbands left Naples and Palermo forever, they rashly strangled Mrs. Tofana in prison.

How happy I am, black queen, that I have had a high honor, - Tofana whispered monastically, trying to get down on her knee. The Spanish boot interfered with her. Koroviev and Behemoth helped Tofana get up.

I’m glad, ”Margarita answered her, at the same time offering her hand to others.

Now a stream was rising up the stairs from bottom to top. Margarita has ceased to see what is being done in the Swiss. She mechanically raised and lowered her hand and, grinning uniformly, smiled at the guests. There was already a rumble in the air on the landing, from the ballrooms abandoned by Margarita, like the sea, music was heard.

But this is a boring woman, - Koroviev no longer whispered, but spoke loudly, knowing that in the rumble of voices they would no longer hear him, - she loves balls, everyone dreams of complaining about her scarf.

Margarita caught sight of the rising one, to which Koroviev was pointing. She was a young woman of about twenty, of extraordinary beauty, but with some kind of restless and importunate eyes.

What scarf? asked Margarita.

A chambermaid has been assigned to her, - Koroviev explained, - and for thirty years she has been putting a handkerchief on her table at night. When she wakes up, he's already there. She already burned him in the furnace and drowned him in the river, but nothing helps.

What scarf? whispered Margarita, raising and lowering her hand.

Scarf with a blue border. The fact is that when she served in a cafe, the owner somehow called her into the pantry, and nine months later she gave birth to a boy, took him into the forest and put a handkerchief in his mouth, and then buried the boy in the ground. At the trial, she said that she had nothing to feed the child.

Where is the owner of this cafe? asked Margarita.

Queen, - the cat suddenly creaked from below, - let me ask you: what does the owner have to do with it? After all, he did not strangle a baby in the forest!

Margarita, without ceasing to smile and swing her right hand, ran the sharp nails of her left into Behemoth's ear and whispered to him:

If you, you bastard, allow yourself to be embroiled in a conversation again...

The hippopotamus squealed and hoarsely:

The queen... the ear will swell... Why spoil the ball with a swollen ear?... I spoke legally... from a legal point of view... I am silent, I am silent... Consider that I am not a cat, but a fish, just leave your ear.

Margarita dropped her ear, and importunate, gloomy eyes appeared before her.

I am happy, queen hostess, to be invited to the great full moon ball.

And I, - Margarita answered her, - is glad to see you. I am very happy. Do you love champagne?

What are you going to do, queen?! - Desperately, but silently cried out in Margarita Koroviev's ear, - there will be a traffic jam!

I love, - the woman said pleadingly, and suddenly began to repeat mechanically: - Frida, Frida, Frida! My name is Frida, O queen!

So you get drunk today, Frida, and don’t think about anything, ”said Margarita.

Frida stretched out both hands to Margarita, but Koroviev and Behemoth very deftly grabbed her by the arms, and she was wiped out in the crowd.

Now the people were already marching like a wall from below, as if storming the platform on which Margarita stood. Naked female bodies rose between the tail-coat men. Their swarthy, and white, and the color of coffee beans, and completely black bodies, swooped down on Margarita. In her hair, red, black, chestnut, light as flax, precious stones played and danced in a shower of light, sparks scattered. And as if someone sprinkled the assaulting column of men with drops of light, diamond cufflinks splashed light from their breasts. Now Margarita every second felt the touch of her lips on her knee, every second she stretched out her hand for a kiss, her face was drawn into a motionless mask of greeting.

I am in admiration, - Koroviev sang in a monotone, - we are in admiration, the queen is in admiration.

The queen is in admiration, - Azazello scolded behind his back.

I'm delighted, - cried the cat.

Marquise, - Koroviev muttered, - poisoned her father, two brothers and two sisters because of the inheritance! Queen in awe! Mrs. Minkina, oh, how pretty! A little nervous. Why burn the maid's face with curling irons! Of course, under these conditions they will slaughter! Queen in awe! Queen, second attention: Emperor Rudolf, sorcerer and alchemist. Another alchemist - hanged. Ah, there she is! Oh, what a wonderful brothel she had in Strasbourg! We are in awe! A Moscow dressmaker, we all love her for her inexhaustible imagination, kept an atelier and came up with a terribly funny thing: she drilled two round holes in the wall ...

Did the ladies not know? asked Margarita.

Everyone knew to one, the queen, - answered Koroviev, - I am in admiration. This twenty-year-old boy from childhood was distinguished by strange fantasies, a dreamer and an eccentric. One girl fell in love with him, and he took and sold her to a brothel.

A river flowed below. The end of this river was not in sight. Its source, a huge fireplace, continued to feed it. So an hour passed and the second hour went. Here Margarita began to notice that her chain had become heavier than it had been. Something strange happened with the hand. Now, before picking it up, Margarita had to wince. Koroviev's interesting remarks ceased to interest Margarita. And the slanted Mongolian eyes, and the white and black faces became indifferent, at times merged, and for some reason the air between them began to tremble and flow. A sharp pain, as if from a needle, suddenly pierced Margarita's right arm, and, clenching her teeth, she rested her elbow on the pedestal. Some kind of rustle, like wings on the walls, was now coming from behind from the hall, and it was clear that unheard-of hordes of guests were dancing there, and it seemed to Margarita that even the massive marble, mosaic and crystal floors in this outlandish hall pulsated rhythmically.

Neither Gaius Caesar Caligula nor Messalina interested Margarita, just as none of the kings, dukes, cavaliers, suicides, poisoners, hangmen and panders, jailers and cheaters, executioners, scammers, traitors, madmen, detectives, molesters. All their names were confused in my head, their faces were molded into one huge cake, and only one face, bordered by a really fiery beard, sat painfully in my memory, the face of Malyuta Skuratov. Margarita's legs buckled, every minute she was afraid to cry. Her right knee, which was kissed, caused her the worst suffering. It was swollen, the skin on it turned blue, despite the fact that several times Natasha's hand appeared near this knee with a sponge and wiped it with something fragrant. At the end of the third hour, Margarita looked down with completely hopeless eyes and trembled with joy: the flow of guests was thinning.

The laws of the ballroom convention are the same, queen, - Koroviev whispered, - now the wave will begin to subside. I swear that we endure the last minutes. Here is a group of Broken revelers. They always arrive last. Well, yes, they are. Two drunken vampires... Is that all? Oh no, here's another one. No, two!

The last two guests were going up the stairs.

Yes, this is someone new, - said Koroviev, squinting through the glass, - oh, yes, yes. Once, Azazello visited him and, over cognac, whispered advice to him on how to get rid of a certain person, whose revelations he was extremely afraid of. And so he ordered his acquaintance, who was dependent on him, to spray the walls of the office with poison.

What's his name? asked Margarita.

And, really, I don’t know yet myself, - answered Koroviev, - I have to ask Azazello.

And who is with him?

But this is his most executive subordinate. I am impressed! shouted Koroviev to the last two.

The stairs are empty. Out of caution, we waited a little longer. But no one else came out of the fireplace.

A second later, not understanding how it happened, Margarita found herself in the same room with the pool and there, immediately crying from the pain in her arm and leg, fell right on the floor. But Hella and Natasha, comforting her, again dragged her under the bloody shower, again kneaded her body, and Margarita came to life again.

Still, still, Queen Margot, - whispered Koroviev, who appeared next to him, - we need to fly around the halls so that the honored guests do not feel abandoned.

And Margarita again flew out of the room with the pool. On the stage behind the tulips, where the waltz king's orchestra was playing, monkey jazz now raged. A huge, shaggy-whiskered gorilla with a trumpet in her hand, dancing heavily, conducted. Orangutans sat in a row, blowing their shiny trumpets. Riding on their shoulders were merry chimpanzees with harmonies. Two hamadryas with lion-like manes were playing pianos, and these pianos were not heard in the thunder and squeak and thump of saxophones, violins and drums in the paws of gibbons, mandrills and monkeys. On the mirrored floor, an uncountable number of pairs, as if merging, striking with dexterity and purity of movements, spinning in one direction, walked like a wall, threatening to sweep away everything in its path. Living satin butterflies dived above the dancing hordes, flowers rained down from the ceilings. In the capitals of the columns, when the electricity went out, myriads of fireflies lit up, and marsh lights floated in the air.

Then Margarita found herself in a monstrous pool, bordered by a colonnade. The giant black Neptune was throwing out a wide pink jet from its mouth. The intoxicating smell of champagne rose from the pool. Here, unconstrained merriment reigned. The ladies, laughing, kicked off their shoes, gave their handbags to their gentlemen or Negroes running around with sheets in their hands, and with a cry like a swallow rushed into the pool. Foam pillars tossed up. The crystal bottom of the pool burned with a lower light, penetrating the thickness of the wine, and silvery floating bodies were visible in it. Jumped out of the pool completely drunk. Laughter rang under the columns and thundered like in a bathhouse.

In all this turmoil, I remember one completely drunken woman's face with meaningless, but also meaningless imploring eyes, and one word was remembered - "Frida"! Margarita's head began to spin from the smell of wine, and she was about to leave, as the cat arranged a number in the pool, which delayed Margarita. Behemoth conjured something at the mouth of Neptune, and immediately, with a hiss and a roar, the agitated mass of champagne left the pool, and Neptune began to spew out a non-playing, non-foaming wave of dark yellow color. Ladies with a squeal and a cry:

Cognac! - rushed from the edges of the pool for the columns. In a few seconds the pool was full, and the cat, turning three times in the air, fell into the swaying cognac. He got out, snorting, with a limp tie, having lost the gilding from his mustache and his binoculars. The example of Behemoth was decided to follow only one, the same inventive dressmaker, and her cavalier, an unknown young mulatto. Both of them threw themselves into the cognac, but then Koroviev grabbed Margarita by the arm, and they left the bathers.

It seemed to Margarita that she had flown somewhere where she had seen mountains of oysters in huge stone ponds. Then she flew over the glass floor with hellish furnaces burning under it and diabolical white cooks rushing between them. Then, somewhere, already ceasing to think of anything, she saw dark cellars, where some lamps were burning, where girls served meat sizzling on hot coals, where they drank from large mugs to her health. Then she saw polar bears playing harmonicas and dancing Kamarinsky on the stage. A magician-salamander who did not burn in the fireplace ... And for the second time her strength began to dry up.

The last exit, - Koroviev whispered to her anxiously, - and we are free.

She, accompanied by Koroviev, again found herself in the ballroom, but now there was no dancing in it, and the guests crowded between the columns in a myriad crowd, leaving the middle of the hall free. Margarita did not remember who had helped her up the dais that appeared in the middle of this free space of the hall. When she climbed it, she, to her surprise, heard midnight strike somewhere, which, according to her account, had expired a long time ago. With the last blow of the clock that was heard from nowhere, silence fell on the crowds of guests. Then Margarita saw Woland again. He walked surrounded by Abadonna, Azazello and several others who looked like Abadonna, black and young. Margarita now saw that opposite her dais another dais had been prepared for Woland. But he didn't use it. Margarita was struck by the fact that Woland went out on this last grand entrance to the ball in exactly the same form in which he had been in the bedroom. The same dirty, patched shirt hung over his shoulders, and his feet were in worn-out night shoes. Woland was with a sword, but he used this naked sword like a cane, leaning on it. Limping, Woland stopped near his dais, and Azazello immediately appeared in front of him with a dish in his hands, and on this dish Margarita saw the severed head of a man with knocked out front teeth. Complete silence continued, and it was interrupted only once by a distant bell, incomprehensible under these conditions, as happens from the front door.

Mikhail Alexandrovich, - Woland turned softly to the head, and then the eyelids of the murdered man lifted, and on the dead face Margarita, shuddering, saw living eyes full of thought and suffering. - Everything came true, didn't it? - continued Woland, looking into the eyes of the head, - the head was cut off by a woman, the meeting did not take place, and I live in your apartment. It is a fact. A fact is the most stubborn thing in the world. But now we are interested in the future, and not in this already accomplished fact. You have always been an ardent preacher of the theory that after cutting off the head, life in a person stops, he turns into ashes and goes into oblivion. I am pleased to inform you, in the presence of my guests, although they serve as proof of a completely different theory, that your theory is both solid and witty. However, after all, all theories stand one another. There is also one among them, according to which each will be given according to his faith. May it come true! You go into non-existence, and I will be happy to drink from the cup into which you turn into being. Woland raised his sword. Immediately, the covers of the head darkened and shrank, then fell off in pieces, the eyes disappeared, and soon Margarita saw on a platter a yellowish skull with emerald eyes and pearl teeth, on a golden leg. The lid of the skull was hinged back.

This very second, messire, - said Koroviev, noticing Woland's questioning look, - he will appear before you. In this deathly silence, I hear how his patent leather shoes creak and how the glass that he put on the table clinks, having drunk champagne for the last time in this life. Yes, here he is.

On his way to Woland, a new solitary guest entered the hall. Outwardly, he was no different from the numerous other male guests, except for one thing: the guest was literally shaking with excitement, which was visible even from afar. Spots burned on his cheeks, and his eyes darted about in complete alarm. The guest was dumbfounded, and this was quite natural: he was struck by everything, and mainly, of course, by Woland's outfit.

However, the guest was met with excellent affection.

And, my dearest Baron Meigel, - Woland turned to the guest with a friendly smile, whose eyes popped out on his forehead, - I am happy to recommend to you, - Woland addressed the guests, - the most venerable Baron Meigel, who serves as a spectacular commission in the position of acquainting foreigners with the sights of the capital.

Here Margarita froze, because she suddenly recognized this Meigel. She came across him several times in theaters in Moscow and in restaurants. “Excuse me…” thought Margarita, “so he must be dead too?” But the matter was cleared up.

The dear baron,” Woland went on, smiling joyfully, “was so charming that, upon learning of my arrival in Moscow, he immediately called me, offering his services in his specialty, that is, in getting acquainted with the sights. It goes without saying that I was happy to invite him to my place.

At this time, Margarita saw Azazello pass the dish with the skull to Koroviev.

By the way, Baron,” Woland said, suddenly lowering his voice intimately, “rumors have spread about your extraordinary curiosity. They say that she, combined with your equally developed talkativeness, began to attract everyone's attention. Moreover, evil tongues have already dropped the word - earpiece and spy. And what's more, there is an assumption that this will lead you to a sad end in no more than a month. So, in order to save you from this tedious waiting, we decided to come to your aid, taking advantage of the fact that you asked to visit me precisely in order to peep and eavesdrop on everything that is possible.

The Baron became paler than Abaddon, who was exceptionally pale by nature, and then something strange happened. Abaddonna stood in front of the Baron and took off his glasses for a moment. At the same moment, something flashed in Azazello's hands, something softly clapped his hands, the baron began to fall on his back, scarlet blood spurted from his chest and flooded his starched shirt and waistcoat. Koroviev put the bowl under the beating stream and handed the filled bowl to Woland. The baron's lifeless body was already on the floor at that time.

I drink your health, gentlemen, - Woland said softly and, raising the cup, touched it with his lips.

Then the metamorphosis happened. Gone was the patched shirt and worn shoes. Woland found himself in some kind of black mantle with a steel sword on his hip. He quickly approached Margarita, offered her a cup and said commandingly:

Margarita felt dizzy, she staggered, but the cup was already at her lips, and someone's voices, and whose - she did not make out, whispered in both ears:

Don't be afraid, queen... Don't be afraid, queen, the blood has long gone into the ground. And where it spilled, bunches of grapes are already growing.

Margarita, without opening her eyes, took a sip, and a sweet current ran through her veins, a ringing began in her ears. It seemed to her that deafening roosters were crowing, that somewhere they were playing a march. The crowds of guests began to lose their appearance. And tailcoats and women disintegrated into dust. Smoldering before Margarita's eyes engulfed the hall, the smell of the crypt flowed over it. The columns fell apart, the lights went out, everything shrank, and there were no fountains, tulips and camellias. And it was just what it was - a modest living room of a jeweler, and a streak of light fell out of the half-open door into it. And Margarita entered through this half-open door.

Midnight was approaching, we had to hurry. Margaret vaguely saw something. I remember the candles and some kind of semi-precious pool. When Margarita stood at the bottom of this pool, Hella and Natasha, who was helping her, doused Margarita with some hot, thick, red liquid. Margarita felt a salty taste on her lips and realized that she was being washed with blood. The bloody mantle was replaced by another - thick, transparent, pinkish, and Margarita's head began to spin from rose oil. Then Margarita was thrown onto a crystal bed and rubbed to a shine with some large green leaves. Then the cat broke in and began to help. He squatted down at Margarita's feet and began rubbing her feet as if he were polishing boots in the street. Margarita does not remember who sewed shoes for her out of petals of a pale rose, and how these shoes fastened themselves with gold buckles. Some force lifted Margarita up and placed her in front of a mirror, and a royal diamond crown flashed in her hair. Koroviev appeared from somewhere and hung on Margarita's chest a heavy image of a black poodle in an oval frame on a heavy chain. This decoration was extremely burdensome for the Queen. The chain immediately began to rub her neck, the image pulled her to bend. But something rewarded Margarita for the inconvenience that the chain with the black poodle caused her. This is the respect with which Koroviev and Behemoth began to treat her.

“Nothing, nothing, nothing!” muttered Koroviev at the door of the room with the swimming pool. Allow me, queen, to give you one last piece of advice. Among the guests there will be different, oh, very different, but no one, Queen Margot, no advantage! If someone doesn't like it... I understand that you, of course, will not express it on your face... No, no, you can't think about it! Notice, notice at the same moment. You need to love him, love him, queen. The hostess of the ball will be rewarded a hundredfold for this! And one more thing: don't miss anyone. At least a smile, if there is no time to throw a word, at least a tiny turn of the head. Anything, but not inattention. This will make them sick...

Here Margarita, accompanied by Koroviev and Behemoth, stepped out of the pool into complete darkness.

“I, I,” whispered the cat, “I will give a signal!”

- Let's! Koroviev answered in the darkness.

- Ball! the cat squealed piercingly, and immediately Margarita screamed and closed her eyes for a few seconds. The ball fell on her immediately in the form of light, along with it - sound and smell. Carried away by the arm of Koroviev, Margarita saw herself in a tropical forest. Red-breasted green-tailed parrots clung to vines, jumped over them and shouted deafeningly: “I am delighted!” But the forest quickly ended, and its stuffy bath was immediately replaced by the coolness of a ballroom with columns of some kind of yellowish sparkling stone. This hall, like the forest, was completely empty, and only naked Negroes in silver bandages on their heads stood motionless near the columns. Their faces turned dirty brown with excitement when Margarita flew into the hall with her retinue, in which Azazello had come from somewhere. Here Koroviev released Margarita's hand and whispered:

- Right on the tulips!

A low wall of white tulips grew in front of Margarita, and behind it she saw innumerable capped lights and in front of them the white breasts and black shoulders of the tailcoats. Then Margarita realized where the ballroom sound was coming from. The roar of trumpets fell upon her, and the soaring violins escaping from under it doused her body as if with blood. An orchestra of one and a half hundred people played a polonaise.

A man in a tailcoat towering in front of the orchestra, seeing Margarita, turned pale, smiled, and suddenly raised the entire orchestra with a wave of his hands. Without interrupting the music for a moment, the orchestra, standing, bathed Margarita with sounds. The man above the orchestra turned away from him and bowed low, spreading his arms wide, and Margarita, smiling, waved her hand at him.

“No, little, little,” Koroviev whispered, “he won’t sleep all night.” Shout to him: "Greetings, king of waltzes!"

Margarita shouted this and was surprised that her voice, full as a bell, covered the howling of the orchestra. The man trembled with happiness and put his left hand to his chest, continuing to wave his white staff to the orchestra with his right hand.

“Little, little,” Koroviev whispered, “look to the left, at the first violins, and nod so that everyone thinks that you recognize him individually. Only world famous people are here. This one, behind the first console, is Viet Tang. Yes, very good. Now further.

- Who is the conductor? - flying off, asked Margarita.

“Johann Strauss,” cried the cat, “and let them hang me in a tropical garden on a liana, if such an orchestra has ever played at any ball.” I invited him! And, mind you, not one got sick and not one refused.

In the next hall there were no columns, instead of them there were walls of red, pink, milky-white roses on one side, and on the other - a wall of Japanese terry camellias. Between these walls, fountains were already beating, hissing, and champagne was boiling in bubbles in three pools, of which the first was transparent purple, the second was ruby, the third was crystal. Negroes in scarlet bandages rushed about them, filling flat bowls from basins with silver scoops. There was a gap in the pink wall, and in it a man in a red coat with a swallowtail was seething on the stage. Jazz blared unbearably loudly in front of him. As soon as the conductor saw Margarita, he bent before her so that his hands touched the floor, then straightened up and shouted piercingly:

- Hallelujah!

He slapped his knee once, then crosswise on the other twice, tore the cymbal out of the hands of the last musician, and struck the column with it.

Flying away, Margarita saw only that the virtuoso jazz band player, struggling with the polonaise that was blowing at Margarita's back, hit the jazz band players on the heads with his plate, and they crouched in comic horror.

Finally they flew out to the landing, where, as Margarita realized, Koroviev met her in the darkness with a lamp. Now, on this platform, the eyes were blinded by the light pouring from the crystal grapes. Margarita was set in place, and under her left arm was a low amethyst column.

“You can put your hand on her if it becomes very difficult,” whispered Koroviev.

Some black man threw a pillow under Margarita's feet with a golden poodle embroidered on it, and on it, obeying someone's hands, she placed her right leg, bending at the knee. Margarita tried to look around. Koroviev and Azazello stood beside her in formal poses. Next to Azazello are three more young people who vaguely reminded Marguerite Abaddon in some way. It was cold in the back. Glancing back, Margarita saw that sizzling wine was spouting from the marble wall behind her and flowing into an icy pool. At the left leg she felt something warm and furry. It was Behemoth.

Margarita was tall, and a grand staircase covered with a carpet went down from under her feet. Below, so far away, as if Margarita was looking backward through binoculars, she saw a huge Swiss room with a completely immense fireplace, into the cold and black mouth of which a five-ton truck could freely drive. The Swiss and the stairs, filled with light to the point of pain in the eyes, were empty. Trumpets now reached Margarita from afar. So they stood motionless for about a minute.

- Where are the guests? Margarita asked Koroviev.

- They will, queen, they will now. There will be no shortage of them. And, really, I would rather chop wood than take it here on the site.

- Why chop wood, - the talkative cat picked up, - I would like to serve as a conductor in a tram, and there is nothing worse than this job in the world.

“Everything must be ready in advance, queen,” Koroviev explained, his eye gleaming through a ruined monocle. “Nothing can be more disgusting than when the first guest who arrives is loitering around, not knowing what to do, and his lawful vixen nags him in a whisper for the fact that they arrived before everyone else. Such balls should be thrown in the trash, queen.

“Definitely in the trash,” the cat confirmed.

These ten seconds seemed extremely long to Margarita. Apparently, they expired already, and absolutely nothing happened. But then suddenly something crashed down in the huge fireplace, and a gallows jumped out of it with half-crushed ashes hanging on it. This dust fell off the rope, hit the floor, and a black-haired handsome man in a tailcoat and patent leather shoes jumped out of it. A half-decayed small coffin ran out of the fireplace, its lid bounced off, and other ashes fell out of it. The handsome man gallantly jumped up to him and held out his hand in a ball, the second dust folded into a naked fidgety woman in black shoes and with black feathers on her head, and then both, the man and the woman, hurried up the stairs.

- First! - exclaimed Koroviev, - Mr. Jacques with his wife. I recommend you, queen, one of the most interesting men! A convinced counterfeiter, a traitor, but a very good alchemist. He became famous for that, - Koroviev whispered in Margarita's ear, - that he poisoned the royal mistress. And it doesn't happen to everyone! Look how handsome!

Pale, Margarita, with her mouth open, looked down and saw both the gallows and the coffin disappear in some side passage of the Swiss.

“I am delighted,” the cat yelled right in the face of Mr. Jacques, who had come up the stairs.

At that moment, a headless skeleton with an arm torn off appeared from the fireplace, hit the ground and turned into a man in a tailcoat.

M. Jacques' wife was already getting down on one knee in front of Marguerite and, pale with excitement, was kissing Marguerite's knee.

“Queen,” muttered Mr. Jacques's wife.

“The queen is in admiration,” shouted Koroviev.

“Queen…” the handsome man, Mr. Jacques, said softly.

“We are delighted,” howled the cat.

Young people, Azazello's companions, smiling with lifeless but friendly smiles, were already pushing Mr. Jacques and his wife aside, to the cups of champagne, which the Negroes held in their hands. A lone tailcoat was running up the stairs.

“Count Robert,” Koroviev whispered to Margarita, “is still interesting. Notice how funny the queen is the opposite: this one was the queen's lover and poisoned his wife.

“We are glad, Count,” cried Behemoth.

Three coffins fell out of the fireplace in a row, bursting and disintegrating, then someone in a black robe, whom the next one who ran out of the black mouth stabbed in the back with a knife. A strangled cry was heard from below. An almost completely decomposed corpse ran out of the fireplace. Margarita closed her eyes, and someone's hand brought a vial of white salt to her nose. It seemed to Margarita that it was Natasha's hand. The stairs started to fill up. Now on each step there were, from afar, seemingly identical, tailcoats and naked women with them, differing from each other only in the color of feathers on their heads and shoes.

A lady with monastic downcast eyes, thin, modest, and for some reason with a wide green band around her neck, was approaching Margarita, hobbling, in a strange wooden boot on her left leg.

- What green? Margarita asked mechanically.

“The most charming and respectable lady,” Koroviev whispered, “I recommend to you: Madame Tofana, was extremely popular among young charming Neapolitans, as well as residents of Palermo, and especially among those who were tired of their husbands. After all, it happens, queen, that the husband is tired.

“Yes,” Margarita answered dully, at the same time smiling at the two tailcoats, who, one after the other, bowed before her, kissing her knee and hand.

- Well, - Koroviev managed to whisper to Margarita and at the same time shout to someone: - Duke, a glass of champagne! I am impressed! Yes, so, sir, Mrs. Tofana entered into the situation of these poor women and sold them some kind of bottled water. The wife poured this water into the soup for her husband, who ate it, thanked for the kindness and felt great. True, after a few hours he began to feel very thirsty, then he went to bed, and a day later the beautiful Neapolitan woman, who fed her husband with soup, was free as a spring wind.

- What's on her leg? asked Margarita, never tired of shaking hands with the guests, who had overtaken the tottering Madame Tofana, “and what is this greenery on the neck for? Faded neck?

- I'm in awe, prince! Koroviev shouted, and at the same time whispered to Margarita: “A beautiful neck, but trouble happened to her in prison. On her leg, the queen, is a Spanish boot, and the ribbon is why: when the jailers found out that about five hundred unsuccessfully chosen husbands left Naples and Palermo forever, they rashly strangled Mrs. Tofana in prison.

“How happy I am, black queen, that I have been given a high honor,” Tofana whispered monastically, trying to kneel. The Spanish boot interfered with her. Koroviev and Behemoth helped Tofana get up.

“I’m glad,” Margarita answered her, at the same time offering her hand to others.

Now a stream was rising up the stairs from bottom to top. Margarita has ceased to see what is being done in the Swiss. She mechanically raised and lowered her hand and, grinning uniformly, smiled at the guests. There was already a rumble in the air on the landing, from the ballrooms abandoned by Margarita, like the sea, music was heard.

“But this is a boring woman,” Koroviev no longer whispered, but spoke loudly, knowing that in the rumble of voices they would no longer hear him, “she loves balls, she always dreams of complaining about her scarf.

Margarita caught sight of the rising one, to which Koroviev was pointing. She was a young woman of about twenty, of extraordinary beauty, but with some kind of restless and importunate eyes.

- What scarf? Margaret asked.

“A chambermaid has been assigned to her,” Koroviev explained, “and for thirty years she has been putting a handkerchief on her table at night. When she wakes up, he's already there. She already burned him in the furnace and drowned him in the river, but nothing helps.

- What scarf? whispered Margarita, raising and lowering her hand.

- A handkerchief with a blue border. The fact is that when she served in a cafe, the owner somehow called her into the pantry, and nine months later she gave birth to a boy, took him into the forest and put a handkerchief in his mouth, and then buried the boy in the ground. At the trial, she said that she had nothing to feed the child.

Where is the owner of this cafe? Margaret asked.

“Queen,” the cat suddenly creaked from below, “permit me to ask you: what does the owner have to do with it?” After all, he did not strangle a baby in the forest!

Margarita, without ceasing to smile and swing her right hand, ran the sharp nails of her left into Behemoth's ear and whispered to him:

“If you, you bastard, allow yourself to be entangled in the conversation one more time…”

The hippopotamus squealed and hoarsely:

– The Queen... the ear will swell... Why spoil the ball with a swollen ear?... I spoke legally... from a legal point of view... I am silent, I am silent... Consider that I am not a cat, but a fish, just leave your ear .

Margarita dropped her ear, and importunate, gloomy eyes appeared before her.

“I am happy, Queen Mistress, to be invited to the great full moon ball.

“And I,” Margarita answered her, “is glad to see you.” I am very happy. Do you love champagne?

"What are you going to do, queen?!" - Desperately, but soundlessly shouted in the ear of Margarita Koroviev, - there will be a traffic jam!

“I love you,” the woman said pleadingly, and suddenly began to repeat mechanically: “Frida, Frida, Frida!” My name is Frida, O queen!

“So you get drunk today, Frida, and don’t think about anything,” said Margarita.

Frida stretched out both hands to Margarita, but Koroviev and Behemoth very deftly grabbed her by the arms, and she was wiped out in the crowd.

Now the people were already marching like a wall from below, as if storming the platform on which Margarita stood. Naked female bodies rose between the tail-coat men. Their swarthy, and white, and the color of coffee beans, and completely black bodies, swooped down on Margarita. In her hair, red, black, chestnut, light as flax, precious stones played and danced in a shower of light, sparks scattered. And it was as if someone had sprinkled the assaulting column of men with drops of light—diamond cufflinks were splashing light from their breasts. Now Margarita every second felt the touch of her lips on her knee, every second she stretched out her hand for a kiss, her face was drawn into a motionless mask of greeting.

“I am in admiration,” Koroviev sang in a monotone, “we are in admiration, the queen is in admiration.

“The queen is in admiration,” Azazello scolded behind his back.

“I am delighted,” cried the cat.

“Marquise,” muttered Koroviev, “poisoned her father, two brothers and two sisters because of an inheritance!” Queen in awe! Mrs. Minkina, oh, how pretty! A little nervous. Why burn the maid's face with curling irons! Of course, under these conditions they will slaughter! Queen in awe! Queen, second attention: Emperor Rudolf, sorcerer and alchemist. Another alchemist - hanged. Ah, there she is! Oh, what a wonderful brothel she had in Strasbourg! We are in awe! A Moscow dressmaker, we all love her for her inexhaustible imagination, kept an atelier and came up with a terribly funny thing: she drilled two round holes in the wall ...

"Didn't the ladies know?" Margaret asked.

“Everyone knew, queen,” answered Koroviev, “I am in admiration. This twenty-year-old boy from childhood was distinguished by strange fantasies, a dreamer and an eccentric. One girl fell in love with him, and he took and sold her to a brothel.

A river flowed below. The end of this river was not in sight. Its source, a huge fireplace, continued to feed it. So an hour passed and the second hour went. Here Margarita began to notice that her chain had become heavier than it had been. Something strange happened with the hand. Now, before picking it up, Margarita had to wince. Koroviev's interesting remarks ceased to interest Margarita. And the slanted Mongolian eyes, and the white and black faces became indifferent, at times merged, and for some reason the air between them began to tremble and flow. A sharp pain, as if from a needle, suddenly pierced Margarita's right arm, and, clenching her teeth, she rested her elbow on the pedestal. Some kind of rustle, like wings on the walls, was now coming from behind from the hall, and it was clear that unheard-of hordes of guests were dancing there, and it seemed to Margarita that even the massive marble, mosaic and crystal floors in this outlandish hall pulsated rhythmically.

Neither Gaius Caesar Caligula nor Messalina interested Margarita, just as none of the kings, dukes, cavaliers, suicides, poisoners, hangmen and panders, jailers and cheaters, executioners, scammers, traitors, madmen, detectives, molesters. All their names were confused in my head, their faces were molded into one huge cake, and only one face, bordered by a really fiery beard, sat painfully in my memory, the face of Malyuta Skuratov. Margarita's legs buckled, every minute she was afraid to cry. Her right knee, which was kissed, caused her the worst suffering. It was swollen, the skin on it turned blue, despite the fact that several times Natasha's hand appeared near this knee with a sponge and wiped it with something fragrant. At the end of the third hour, Margarita looked down with completely hopeless eyes and trembled with joy: the flow of guests was thinning.

- The laws of the ballroom convention are the same, queen, - Koroviev whispered, - now the wave will begin to subside. I swear that we endure the last minutes. Here is a group of Broken revelers. They always arrive last. Well, yes, they are. Two drunken vampires... Is that all? Oh no, here's another one. No, two!

The last two guests were going up the stairs.

- Yes, it's someone new, - said Koroviev, squinting through the glass, - oh, yes, yes. Once, Azazello visited him and, over cognac, whispered advice to him on how to get rid of a certain person, whose revelations he was extremely afraid of. And so he ordered his acquaintance, who was dependent on him, to spray the walls of the office with poison.

- What's his name? Margaret asked.

“Ah, really, I don’t know yet myself,” Koroviev answered, “I must ask Azazello.

- And who is with him?

- And here is his most executive subordinate. I am impressed! shouted Koroviev to the last two.

The stairs are empty. Out of caution, we waited a little longer. But no one else came out of the fireplace.

A second later, not understanding how it happened, Margarita found herself in the same room with the pool and there, immediately crying from the pain in her arm and leg, fell right on the floor. But Hella and Natasha, comforting her, again dragged her under a bloody shower, again kneaded her body, and Margarita came to life again.

“More, more, Queen Margo,” whispered Koroviev, who appeared next to him, “we must fly around the halls so that the honored guests do not feel abandoned.

And Margarita again flew out of the room with the pool. On the stage behind the tulips, where the waltz king's orchestra was playing, monkey jazz now raged. A huge, shaggy-whiskered gorilla with a trumpet in her hand, dancing heavily, conducted. Orangutans sat in a row, blowing their shiny trumpets. Riding on their shoulders were merry chimpanzees with harmonies. Two hamadryas with lion-like manes were playing pianos, and these pianos were not heard in the thunder and squeak and thump of saxophones, violins and drums in the paws of gibbons, mandrills and monkeys. On the mirrored floor, an uncountable number of pairs, as if merging, striking with dexterity and purity of movements, spinning in one direction, walked like a wall, threatening to sweep away everything in its path. Living satin butterflies dived above the dancing hordes, flowers rained down from the ceilings. In the capitals of the columns, when the electricity went out, myriads of fireflies lit up, and marsh lights floated in the air.

Then Margarita found herself in a monstrous pool, bordered by a colonnade. A giant black neptune shot out a wide pink jet from its mouth. The intoxicating smell of champagne rose from the pool. Here, unconstrained merriment reigned. The ladies, laughing, kicked off their shoes, gave their handbags to their gentlemen or Negroes running around with sheets in their hands, and with a cry like a swallow rushed into the pool. Foam pillars tossed up. The crystal bottom of the pool burned with a lower light, penetrating the thickness of the wine, and silvery floating bodies were visible in it. Jumped out of the pool completely drunk. Laughter rang under the columns and thundered like in a bathhouse.

In all this confusion, I remember one completely drunken woman's face with meaningless, but also in the meaninglessness of imploring eyes, and one word was remembered - "Frida"! Margarita's head began to spin from the smell of wine, and she was about to leave, as the cat arranged a number in the pool, which delayed Margarita. Behemoth conjured something at the mouth of Neptune, and immediately, with a hiss and a roar, the agitated mass of champagne left the pool, and Neptune began to spew out a non-playing, non-foaming wave of dark yellow color. Ladies with a squeal and a cry:

- Cognac! - rushed from the edges of the pool for the columns. In a few seconds the pool was full, and the cat, turning three times in the air, fell into the swaying cognac. He got out, snorting, with a limp tie, having lost the gilding from his mustache and his binoculars. The example of Behemoth was decided to follow only one, the same inventive dressmaker, and her cavalier, an unknown young mulatto. Both of them threw themselves into the cognac, but then Koroviev grabbed Margarita by the arm, and they left the bathers.

It seemed to Margarita that she had flown somewhere where she had seen mountains of oysters in huge stone ponds. Then she flew over the glass floor with hellish furnaces burning under it and diabolical white cooks rushing between them. Then, somewhere, already ceasing to think of anything, she saw dark cellars, where some lamps were burning, where girls served meat sizzling on hot coals, where they drank from large mugs to her health. Then she saw polar bears playing harmonicas and dancing Kamarinsky on the stage. A magician-salamander who did not burn in the fireplace ... And for the second time her strength began to dry up.

“Last exit,” Koroviev whispered to her anxiously, “and we are free.

She, accompanied by Koroviev, again found herself in the ballroom, but now there was no dancing in it, and the guests crowded between the columns in a myriad crowd, leaving the middle of the hall free. Margarita did not remember who had helped her up the dais that appeared in the middle of this free space of the hall. When she climbed it, she, to her surprise, heard the sound of midnight somewhere, which, according to her account, had expired a long time ago. With the last blow of the clock heard from nowhere, silence fell on the crowds of guests. Then Margarita saw Woland again. He walked surrounded by Abadonna, Azazello and several others who looked like Abadonna, black and young. Margarita now saw that opposite her dais another dais had been prepared for Woland. But he didn't use it. Margarita was struck by the fact that Woland went out on this last grand entrance to the ball in exactly the same form in which he had been in the bedroom. The same dirty, patched shirt hung over his shoulders, and his feet were in worn-out night shoes. Woland was with a sword, but he used this naked sword like a cane, leaning on it. Limping, Woland stopped near his dais, and Azazello immediately appeared in front of him with a dish in his hands, and on this dish Margarita saw the severed head of a man with knocked out front teeth. Complete silence continued, and it was interrupted only once by a distant bell, incomprehensible under these conditions, as happens from the front door.

“Mikhail Alexandrovich,” Woland turned softly to the head, and then the dead man’s eyelids lifted, and on the dead face Margarita, shuddering, saw living eyes full of thought and suffering. Everything came true, didn't it? Woland went on, looking into the eyes of the head, “the head was cut off by a woman, the meeting did not take place, and I live in your apartment. It is a fact. A fact is the most stubborn thing in the world. But now we are interested in the future, and not in this already accomplished fact. You have always been an ardent preacher of the theory that after cutting off the head, life in a person stops, he turns into ashes and goes into oblivion. I am pleased to inform you, in the presence of my guests, although they serve as proof of a completely different theory, that your theory is both solid and witty. However, after all, all theories stand one another. There is also one among them, according to which each will be given according to his faith. May it come true! You go into non-existence, and I will be happy to drink from the cup into which you turn into being. Woland raised his sword. Immediately, the covers of the head darkened and shrank, then fell off in pieces, the eyes disappeared, and soon Margarita saw on a platter a yellowish skull with emerald eyes and pearl teeth, on a golden leg. The lid of the skull was hinged back.

“In a second, sir,” said Koroviev, noticing Woland’s questioning look, “he will appear before you. In this deathly silence, I hear how his patent leather shoes creak and how the glass that he put on the table clinks, having drunk champagne for the last time in this life. Yes, here he is.

On his way to Woland, a new solitary guest entered the hall. Outwardly, he was no different from the numerous other male guests, except for one thing: the guest was literally shaking with excitement, which was visible even from afar. Spots burned on his cheeks, and his eyes darted about in complete alarm. The guest was dumbfounded, and this was quite natural: he was struck by everything, and mainly, of course, by Woland's outfit.

However, the guest was met with excellent affection.

“Ah, dearest Baron Meigel,” Woland turned to the guest with a friendly smile, whose eyes popped out on his forehead, “I am happy to recommend to you,” Woland turned to the guests, “the most venerable Baron Meigel, who serves as a spectacular commission in the position of acquainting foreigners with the sights of the capital .

Here Margarita froze, because she suddenly recognized this Meigel. She came across him several times in theaters in Moscow and in restaurants. “Excuse me...,” thought Margarita, “so he must be dead, too?” But the matter was cleared up.

“Dear baron,” Woland continued, smiling joyfully, “he was so charming that, upon learning of my arrival in Moscow, he immediately called me, offering his services in his specialty, that is, in acquaintance with the sights. It goes without saying that I was happy to invite him to my place.

At this time, Margarita saw Azazello pass the dish with the skull to Koroviev.

“Yes, by the way, Baron,” Woland said, suddenly lowering his voice intimately, “rumors spread about your extraordinary curiosity. They say that she, combined with your equally developed talkativeness, began to attract everyone's attention. Moreover, evil tongues have already dropped the word earpiece and spy. And what's more, there is an assumption that this will lead you to a sad end in no more than a month. So, in order to save you from this tedious waiting, we decided to come to your aid, taking advantage of the fact that you asked for a visit to me precisely in order to peep and eavesdrop on everything that is possible.

The Baron became paler than Abaddon, who was exceptionally pale by nature, and then something strange happened. Abaddonna stood in front of the Baron and took off his glasses for a moment. At the same moment, something flashed in Azazello's hands, something softly clapped his hands, the baron began to fall on his back, scarlet blood spurted from his chest and flooded his starched shirt and waistcoat. Koroviev put the bowl under the beating stream and handed the filled bowl to Woland. The baron's lifeless body was already on the floor at that time.

“I drink your health, gentlemen,” Woland said softly and, raising the cup, touched it with his lips.

Then the metamorphosis happened. Gone was the patched shirt and worn shoes. Woland found himself in some kind of black mantle with a steel sword on his hip. He quickly approached Margarita, offered her a cup and said commandingly:

Margarita felt dizzy, she staggered, but the cup was already at her lips, and someone's voices, and whose - she did not make out, whispered in both ears:

– Do not be afraid, queen... Do not be afraid, queen, the blood has long gone into the ground. And where it spilled, bunches of grapes are already growing.

Margarita, without opening her eyes, took a sip, and a sweet current ran through her veins, a ringing began in her ears. It seemed to her that deafening roosters were crowing, that somewhere they were playing a march. The crowds of guests began to lose their appearance. And tailcoats and women disintegrated into dust. Smoldering before Margarita's eyes engulfed the hall, the smell of the crypt flowed over it. The columns fell apart, the lights went out, everything shrank, and there were no fountains, tulips and camellias. But it was just what it was - a modest living room of a jeweler, and a streak of light fell out of the half-open door into it. And Margarita entered through this half-open door.

The novel "The Master and Margarita" was written for twelve years. This work became the final in the life and work of Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. It reveals the writer's views on Good and Evil, Light and Darkness, Love and Hate. And also throughout the book runs the idea of ​​the true value of true art.

"The Master and Margarita" in composition is a novel within a novel. The two stories told by the author seem to develop parallel to each other, without touching either the characters or the ideological pathos. But this is only an appearance, in fact, the images of the Master and Yeshua Ganotsri have much in common. Nevertheless, Moscow history and the New Testament revised by Bulgakov can be separated from each other without prejudice to the artistic canvas of the work. Thus, the novel about Woland's adventures in Moscow has its own plot and compositional structure.

The chapter "Satan's Great Ball" is the climax of the novel. This is a decisive moment in the development of characters (Margarita, Woland). This episode solves the problem of mercy, which is connected in the novel with the image of Margarita. Even becoming a witch, this heroine does not lose the brightest human qualities. Even before the ball, when she destroys Drumlit's house, Margarita sees a frightened boy in one of the rooms and stops the rout. At the ball, the heroine also shows generosity. Having heard from Behemoth the story of Frida, who killed her child because she had nothing to feed him, Margarita asks what happened to the one who seduced the unfortunate woman. She decides to help Frida - to save her from eternal torture. And after the ball, he fulfills his promise.

The chapter begins with Marguerite preparing for the ball, where she is to be queen. She is bathed in blood, rose oil and dressed in rose petal slippers. A heavy medallion with the image of a poodle is put on the neck: “This decoration extremely burdened the queen. The chain immediately began to rub her neck, the image pulled her to bend. Margarita appears at the ball three times: the first time to greet the guests; second, so that they don't "feel abandoned"; and in the third - at the exit of Woland.

The main characters of the episode are Margarita and Woland. However, almost all the action is concentrated around Margarita. Very often, the ball is shown through her eyes: “flying away, Margarita saw ...”, “Margarita tried to look around ...”, “Margarita stopped seeing what was happening in the Swiss ...”. The work of the queen turned out to be difficult, but the heroine with honor withstands all the tests, since the fate of the Master depends on it. But for the sake of love, as it is already clear, she is capable of anything.

Woland appears at the very end of the ball. He demonstrates his strength to the guests, including the queen. He drinks from the recently living head of Berlioz the still hot blood of Baron Miguel, a spy and an earpiece, and his outfit is transformed: “The patched shirt and worn shoes have disappeared. Woland ended up in some kind of black mantle with a steel sword on his hip. Thus, the idea that the devil lives as long as there are sinners is emphasized, since Woland got drunk on the blood of the criminal. It is no coincidence that he says: “I drink your health, gentlemen!”
This phrase sounds both like a toast and like a curse. After Margarita also took a sip, the guests crumble to dust ...

Margarita was very helpful at the Behemoth ball. He prepared her for the exit, entertained her during a boring welcome ceremony with stories about the sins of the guests, and generally directed and encouraged her. And if not for Koroviev, the queen would never have known Frida's story. An interesting question is why Margarita wanted to help her? Most likely because Margarita considered Frida only partially guilty, since her crime was committed out of desperation. Margarita took pity on the girl.

In the episode "The Great Ball at Satan's", Bulgakov reproduces a modern version of the folklore motif of Satan's ball, which is found in many plots (Gogol, Faust and others). Time and space during this action are very conditional: the ball begins with the first stroke of the clock, and ends with the last; a small apartment turns into a huge hall, into which, nevertheless. can be entered through the front door. Among the champagne fountains, an image of infernal fireboxes suddenly appears: “... she flew over the glass floor with hellish fireboxes burning under it and diabolical white cooks rushing between them.” This is, as it were, another reminder in honor of whom and by whom the ball was arranged.

Despite the power that Satan displays, his power is illusory. He knows only death and sin, at his ball, except for Margarita, there is not a single living person. All the splendor of what was happening turned into dust: “The smoldering in front of Margarita engulfed the hall, the smell of the crypt flowed over it.” In these last words, the voice of the author clearly sounds.

Komisarenko Andrey Nikolaevich
Music and its spiritual meaning in the novel by M. A. Bulgakov "The Master and Margarita"

“Who is the conductor? - flying off, asked Margarita.
-Johann Strauss, - shouted the cat, - and let me hang in a tropical garden on a liana, if such an orchestra has ever played at any ball. I invited him! And, mind you, not a single one fell ill and not a single one refused. (Bulgakov M. A. The Master and Margarita (novel) // “I wanted to serve the people ...”: Prose. Plays. Letters. The image of the writer. - M .: Pedagogy, 1991. - P. 399).

The novel by M. A. Bulgakov “The Master and Margarita” is, first of all, a complex and multilayered work. To realize and understand the main idea of ​​this masterpiece is not given to everyone. The range of ideas, problems and philosophical meaning that were incorporated into the plot outline of the novel is unusually wide. At the thematic level, the novel touches on being in a wide variety of planes and forms: from everyday conflicts and criticism of bureaucratic bureaucracy (“ordinary people ... in general, resemble the former ones ... the housing problem only spoiled them”), to a global understanding of metaphysical truths at the level of the struggle between good and evil, ideal and material (“what would your good do if evil did not exist, and what would the earth look like if shadows disappeared from it?”). No matter how many philosophers, literary critics and critics write on the topic of M. A. Bulgakov’s “main novel of all life”, it’s still impossible to exhaust the spiritual value of a work of this magnitude.
It is widely believed that M. A. Bulgakov's novel "The Master and Margarita" is written in the form of "a novel within a novel." After all, the actions and events in it unfold in parallel in two worlds: Woland's arrival in Moscow to hold the Ball of Satan in the capital, on the one hand, and a kind of literary interpretation of the biblical tales of the trial and execution of Yeshua, the wandering philosopher, the Son of God, who preached the coming of the New Kingdom God on earth - on the other. These two storylines intersect precisely in the image of Woland, because he saw Yeshua, had breakfast with I. Kant, and finally arrived in Moscow in the first half of the 20th century.
But this is a stereotyped view from the point of view of literary criticism and literary shaping. If we shift the focus and look at the development of the plot in a different spectrum and take a different starting point, for example - the phenomenon of music, then we can undoubtedly see a curious fact. The novel "The Master and Margarita" is not only compositionally and structurally designed as a "novel within a novel", but moreover, throughout the whole action we can isolate an integral piece of music written in 3-part sonata form. At the level of semiotics and symbolism, this literary work hides the third dramatic layer - “music in the form of a novel”, or rather, “music in a novel”. Naturally, this piece of music is transmitted by verbal formulas, titles and names, artistic and literary devices. Thus, the relevance of this study is dictated by an unusual approach to a literary masterpiece on the part of musicology and the philosophy of music.
It should be pointed out that such points of view require the simultaneous approach of several disciplines at once: literary criticism, history and theory of music, musical formation, musical and literary aesthetics, semiotics, and philosophy. The multifaceted intersection of the humanities from different fields only emphasizes both the complexity and the relevance of such work.
The subject of the study is the novel by M. A. Bulgakov "The Master and Margarita", but not as a structural combination of "a novel in a novel", but as a figurative and symbolic embodiment of "music in a novel". The object of analysis is the facts, events and descriptions in the novel, which are somehow connected with music and musical art in general. The ultimate goal of the study is to isolate, describe, analyze and build into a single logic the entire musical subtext in the novel by M. A. Bulgakov "The Master and Margarita", as well as to elucidate the spiritual imagery from the resulting musical formula.
The problems that need to be resolved regarding the spiritual and figurative meaning of music in the novel "The Master and Margarita" are reduced to the following tasks: 1) identifying and describing the main points when music is mentioned in the novel (name or surname of the composer, title of the work, genre, etc.). d.); 2) analysis of the subtext and imagery of all the identified musical moments of the novel; 3) alignment of all the analyzed musical moments into a clear logical structure, which is given by the form of a musical work, according to the basic laws and canons of a sonata composition; 4) understanding the spiritual and figurative meaning of "music in the novel", based on the literary masterpiece of M. A. Bulgakov.
It should be noted that the novel "The Master and Margarita" has repeatedly been in the center of attention, both literary critics and philosophers. There are many publications, articles and monographs on the topic of M. A. Bulgakov's work. But in general, all authors more often interpret the literary heritage of M. A. Bulgakov in two or three planes: the historical aspect (the history of Russia and Ukraine, presented in the author's understanding), the metaphysical aspect (religious motives, symbols, biblical mythology), moral and ethical aspect (good and evil, the problem of morality and power, material and ideal).
Such authors as P. S. Popov, I. F. Belza, P. I. Palievsky try to interpret the work of M. A. Bulgakov through the prism of his biography and connect key moments, plot twists, scenes of action (“bad” apartment No. 50) - with the life of the writer himself. Of course, the author's biography leaves an undisguised imprint on the results of creativity, but if we turn to the biography of M. A. Bulgakov from the point of view of musical education, we will notice that the writer played the piano perfectly, knew the world musical culture well, often went to the opera. Such facts from life could not pass unnoticed by his literary activity. Especially for the "main novel" of his entire life, The Master and Margarita.
There is an interesting article by Doctor of Philosophical Sciences V. S. Khaziev “Kant and Woland”, which analyzes the theological and philosophical side of the novel “The Master and Margarita”. But it focuses on the metaphysics of morality and almost completely does not address the issue of beauty and aesthetics. This approach does not provide a complete, thorough analysis of the essence and structure of a literary masterpiece. I. Kant himself in his “Critique of the Ability of Judgment” (1789-1790) came to the conclusion that the beautiful should give rise to the good, and, therefore, the work of M. A. Bulgakov must be considered from ethical and aesthetic positions, not forgetting the role of art, in addition to religion and morality.

From the first pages of the novel, we learn that one of the key characters has the surname "Berlioz". Misha Berlioz is not just a namesake of the great composer Hector Berlioz, he is a symbolic embodiment of the musical atmosphere of the novel itself as a whole. It is necessary to point out a curious fact: in its ideological content, themes, and figurative meaning, the novel by M. A. Bulgakov is close to the “Fantastic Symphony” by G. Berlioz, which the composer wrote in 1830. One can even admit that the novel “The Master and Margarita” is a symbolic reflection of the program outline and the main idea of ​​the symphony by G. Berlioz.
In the Fantastic Symphony, the themes of love and passion are also intertwined (part 1 Largo), it also has the theme of a ball (part 2 Adagio), where lovers meet and death, suffering are also intertwined and there is a coven of witches (part 4 Allegretto, part 5 Larghetto Allegro). Hector Berlioz himself outlined the program concept of his creation as follows: “A young musician with painful sensitivity and ardent imagination is poisoned by opium in a fit of love despair. The narcotic dose, too weak to cause his death, plunges him into a heavy sleep, accompanied by strange visions, during which his sensations, feelings and memories are translated into musical thoughts and images in his sick brain. The very beloved woman becomes for him a melody and, as it were, an obsession (idee fixe), which he finds and hears everywhere.
The symphony breathes death, narcotic delirium, and it is not for nothing that Misha Berlioz, the chairman of MASSOLIT, dies under the wheels of a tram. His death at the beginning of the novel is the starting point of all the mystical events of the work.
The Fantastic Symphony by Hector Berlioz ends with a satanic dance, the meaning of which echoes the Walpurgis Night from Goethe's Faust and, of course, Satan's ball from The Master and Margarita.
Misha Berlioz paid a high price for his ideological and atheistic views - Woland sends him into oblivion. The punishment of the chairman of the MASSOLIT by the Prince of Darkness is parallel to another symphonic work by Hector Berlioz, The Condemnation of Doctor Faust, the essence of which is that mortals are not allowed to compete with higher powers on an equal footing and retribution comes for everything.
By coincidence, and this is a curious fact, Hector Berlioz's father was preparing a medical career for his son. M. A. Bulgakov, as you know, was a professional doctor and practiced medicine. Indeed, it is surprising how not to recall "a fancifully shuffled deck of cards"!
The financial director of the variety show, Grigory Danilovich Rimsky, in the novel is rather derived from the name of the composer N. A. Rimsky-Korsakov. And this is no coincidence. The uniqueness of the musical work of N. A. Rimsky-Korsakov lies in the operatic and symphonic interpretation of fairy tales (the operas Sadko, The Snow Maiden, Kashchei the Immortal, The Tale of Tsar Saltan, The Golden Cockerel, the Sheherazade suite). In fairy tales there is always mysticism, mystery, the struggle between good and evil. However, we must concentrate on the fairy tale - the opera The Golden Cockerel (1907), which N. A. Rimsky - Korsakov wrote not just as a musical masterpiece, but as a political pamphlet or a satirical feuilleton on the tsarist regime, ridiculing the tyranny of the bureaucracy and officials.
The opera The Golden Cockerel was banned by censorship; it could not be staged in many theaters. M. A. Bulgakov hints to us at N. A. Rimsky-Korsakov by the fact that his novel The Master and Margarita, in fact, is a pamphlet on the Stalinist regime and on the atheistic ideology of the party. The novel sarcastically ridicules house authorities - bribe-takers (N. I. Bosoy), arbitrariness of officials and bureaucrats, vulgarity, philistinism, snobbery (I. S. Varenukha, S. Likhodeev, chairman of the acoustic commission A. A. Sempleyarov). But first of all, the author ridicules the rotten intelligentsia and graphomaniacs from the Griboedov House.
Based on the musical fairy tales of N. A. Rimsky-Korsakov, we can conclude the following: the novel by M. A. Bulgakov “The Master and Margarita” is also a kind of very complex fairy tale for adults. It intertwines the real and the unreal, so much so that all the "sores" and imperfections of the atheistic society of Bulgakov's time stand out in relief.
There is also a third character in the novel with the composer's surname - this is a doctor, professor Alexander Nikolaevich Stravinsky. He treated Ivan Bezdomny for schizophrenia, and officials of the city entertainment branch were sent to his clinic, suffering from obsessive choral singing due to the tricks of Korovyov. Naturally, only a doctor with such a musical surname can treat singing!
Composer I. F. Stravinsky in his work took ancient folklore, folk songs, mythology, mysticism of the ancient Slavs and Greeks as a basis. In parallel, in his works there are also religious and spiritual motives, reflections on the meaning of the existence of a sinful person. His operatic and symphonic masterpieces received wide recognition and popularity: The Firebird, Petrushka, Orpheus, Oedipus Rex, Sacred Chant, and Lamentation. The thematic basis of the work of I. F. Stravinsky in many ways echoes the subtext of the novel by M. A. Bulgakov. The mystical-religious principle is the driving spring of all the through action and struggle of the heroes, their passions, emotions and feelings. I. F. Stravinsky and M. A. Bulgakov are close to each other on the basis of artistic and metaphysical understanding of the essence of man as a person and society as a whole.
Partly musical is the nickname of Koroviev from Woland's retinue - Fagot. The sound characteristics of this musical instrument are remarkably described by N. N. Zryakovsky in the “General Course of Instrumentation”. The sound of the bassoon is full, thick, somewhat hoarse and rough, and in the middle and high registers - dull, pale, nasal. Such sound properties of the instrument perfectly correlate with the character of Koroviev - cunning, sarcasm, mockery. Koroviev-Fagot will actually turn out to be an unsuccessfully joked knight who will have to pay the bill for a not-so-good pun about light and darkness. The image of Koroviev is tragicomic, like the bassoon's sound range - from rough wheezing to pale nasality.
The names of the composers, which become the names of the heroes of the novel, symbolically emphasize the main idea of ​​M.A. Bulgakov: in a mystical and philosophical way, it is grotesque to ridicule an atheistic, depraved society and affirm the idea of ​​Pure Love as the main manifestation of the divine and harmonious, for Love is God.
Reading the novel from the first chapter, we again stumble upon musical moments. In a conversation between Berlioz and Bezdomny, Woland mentions that Strauss "simply laughed at this proof" [Kant's proof of the "existence of God"]. Composer Johann Strauss then appears at Satan's ball as the conductor of "the best orchestra in the world." I. Strauss - gained fame as the author of Viennese court waltzes. But why does the “king of waltzes” scoff at the sixth proof of the “old man” I. Kant? The answer can be found in the composer's biography.
At the beginning of his composing career, studying with Kapellmeister Josef Drechsler, I. Strauss “dreamed of more “earthly music”. He gravitated not to high spiritual cantatas, but to everything ordinary and popular. Composing his sugary waltzes, I. Strauss tried to convey in melodies "the seething joy of being." , which makes him so related to Woland, who said: “... evil lurks in men who avoid wine, games, the company of lovely women, and table conversation. Such people are either seriously ill or secretly hate those around them.
Waltzes by I. Strauss are filled with earthly and material joys. They are too far from the spiritual asceticism and altruism that Yeshua preached. The music of I. Strauss is carnal, because it should make the body dance, which is what we see at Woland's ball.
In Chapter 4, when Ivan Bezdomny is chasing Woland's retinue, we again encounter a hint of dance: “In each of these windows a fire burned under an orange lampshade, and from all windows, from all doors, from all gateways, from roofs and attics, from cellars and courtyards, the hoarse roar of a polonaise from the opera Eugene Onegin broke out. Yes, yes, exactly, under the hoarse roar of the Polish dance, Woland and his company disappear from the unfortunate poet's field of vision. The dance is a kind of mockery of the futility and naivete of the proletarian atheist writer.
In contrast to the carnal waltzes of I. Strauss, in the novel "The Master and Margarita" there is a religious tune "Alleluia". For the first time it is performed by the Griboedov jazz orchestra (Chapter 5), for the second time this tune is played on the gramophone in the hospital (Chapter 18), for the third time this tune is performed by a jazz band at Satan's ball, where this theme is opposed by the orchestra Strauss (Chapter 23).
The traditional translation of the Hallelujah chant is "Praise the Lord." It originates from the ritual performance of the psalms. . The theme "Hallelujah" contrasts with the waltzes of I. Strauss, and this contrast is a conflict between the Praise of God and Satan's ball. The singing of spiritual psalms is opposed to bodily movements. On these polar principles, we see a dramatic conflict of two themes, as in sonata form - the 1st Main Part of Woland (a waltz at the ball) contrasts with the 2nd Side Part of God (the tune of "Hallelujah"). Such a confrontation vividly demonstrates that "music in the novel" is conceived as a work in sonata form with two conflicting themes.
It should only be pointed out that, according to the requirements of the classical composition, in the 1st part of the sonata cycle (exposition) between the Main Part (GP) and the Side Part (PP) there must be a Linking Part (SP), a kind of logical transition, modulation, smoothing out the sharp contrast and leveling the overall architectonics. Upon careful reading of the text, we will repeatedly come across the march genre. For example, the march of the Behemoth cat in Chapter 12: “And then the cat jumped out to the ramp and suddenly barked at the whole theater in a human voice:
- The session is over! Maestro! Cut the march!!
The distraught conductor, not realizing what he was doing, waved his baton, and the orchestra did not play, and did not even burst out, and did not even suffice, namely, according to the disgusting expression of the cat, he cut off some incredible, no what a march unlike in its swagger." Further in Chapter 19, the Funeral March in honor of Mischa Berlioz appears. And, finally, a march in honor of Margarita at Woland's ball in Chapter 21. The march is a kind of genre, because its main features are a strict measured tempo and a clear rhythm. Marching rhythms serve to ensure the synchronous movement of a large number of people (movements of troops in the ranks, various processions, rallies, etc.).
The SP of marching rhythms in the novel, most likely, has the meaning of a symbolic transfer or depersonalization of the personality in the crowd, where ideological atheistic pressure on the individual dominates (the funeral of Misha Berlioz, the march of Behemoth), or to create a certain mood for a group of characters. For example, clashes between Woland's retinue and the entire atheistic society of mortal Muscovites. Like the march, the waltz also has a clear rhythm, but the waltz is more danceable, while the march is closer to the marching step and walking. The theme "Hallelujah" contrasts with both the waltz and the march, because spiritual psalms are characterized by a peaceful melody at an average, calm pace.
So, we have singled out the 1st expositional part of the sonata form of "music in the novel" of Bulgakov's main work: GP - waltzes by I. Strauss, SP - march, PP - psalm "Alleluia".
The 2nd part of the sonata cycle (in the composition it has the name "development") is an injection of energy, events and collisions. Woland's performance in a variety show, a commotion in Moscow, mystical events in various institutions - everything accelerates the dynamics of the storyline. But even here we meet some interesting moments connected with the art of music.
The middle part - development, is a continuous jazz improvisation, filled with dissonances, dodecaphonic moments, chaos of sounds and melodic images. If the 1st part is sustained in the manner of the classical presentation of the material, then the 2nd part is a complete rejection of the canons of the classics. It all starts after the moment when Margarita used Azazello's cream, flew into the apartment of the literary critic Latunsky and began to break the piano with a hammer (Chapter 21). One can only imagine what sounds and blows they were when the keys crackled under the weight of the hammer, the strings were torn, the chips flew! This is reminiscent of the music of the Polish composer K. Penderecki, who in his work “Fluorescence” introduces an extraordinary sound into a large symphony orchestra: “sawing wood with a saw, the sound of a typewriter, polishing glass with a file, the howl of a siren” .
But the full climax of this musical outrage is found in Chapter 23 at Satan's ball: “On the stage behind the tulips, where the waltz king's orchestra was playing, monkey jazz was now raging. A huge, shaggy-whiskered gorilla, with a trumpet in his hand, danced heavily, conducting. Orangutans sat in a row, blowing their shiny trumpets. Riding on their shoulders were merry chimpanzees with harmonies. Two hamadryas with lion-like manes were playing pianos, and these pianos were not heard in the thunder, and the squeak, and the thump of saxophones, violins and drums in the paws of gibbons, mandrills and monkeys. Isn't it true that this fragment is not a bad caricature of the evolutionary theory of Charles Darwin?! M. A. Bulgakov emphasizes this brutal destruction of divine harmony for a reason. Here lies the musical symbolism of religious chants according to the rules of church composer technique.
The qualitative distribution of musical intervals, in terms of numerical proportions, in traditional religious music leaned towards a strong fusion of tones (unison, octave, fifth, fourth). Such intervals were easy to perform with the voice, and they were pleasantly perceived by ear. Therefore, the numerical proportions are 1:1; 1:2; 2:3; 3:4 - were considered symbols of the unity of God, the God-man, the Crucifixion, the Incarnation. On the contrary, the tritone interval was called the “musical Devil”, as a consonance that destroys the sacred numerical ratio formed by a pure fourth (3:2) and a pure fifth (4:3). The quart is the Holy Trinity, and the quint is the four Gospels, as well as the cross. Moreover, it is difficult to sing a newt with a voice and it is tense, negatively perceived by ear. The modal system, which included eight main church modes in its structure, was conceived as a mathematical union (2x4). The number "4" is a symbolic interpretation of the cross, and the factor "2" means the Divine nature of Christ; "1" - one God.
Everything harmonious and proportionate personifies the spiritual and divine, and everything dissonant, ugly and formless means diabolical. That is why even F. M. Dostoevsky argued that beauty will save the world and, above all, the beauty of the soul, and the “old man” I. Kant in his “Critiques” came to the conclusion that everything truly beautiful must necessarily give rise to good.
The 2nd part of “music in the novel” is like a satanic genie released from a bottle, destroying the ethical and aesthetic teachings of I. Kant with his proof of the existence of God, and the spiritual beauty of F. M. Dostoevsky. And this is completely logical, because a company of “suicides, poisoners, hangmen and pimps, jailers and cheaters, executioners, scammers, traitors, madmen, detectives, molesters” gathered at Satan’s ball. So Woland's ball gradually turned into a farce or a cheap tavern, in which, as in any "dinner", there is no time for high philosophical reasoning. Unless M. A. Bulgakov lacks chanson in the novel, more precisely, the main hit “Murka”. Remember the popular chant: “How much I slaughtered, how much I cut. How many innocent souls have you ruined...
All this turmoil and disharmonious chaos is interrupted by a trumpet roar from the Anthony fortress in Yershalaim (Chapter 26). Judas did not hear the warning signal of fate and in the darkness of the spring night was killed for betrayal. Sacred sounds seem to burst into atheistic Moscow from the biblical past. From this moment begins the 3rd part of the sonata cycle - Reprise and Coda, in which the theme of God will already play a dominant role.
The last part of the "music in the novel" is all influenced by the atmosphere of the composer Franz Schubert. “Oh, thrice romantic master, don’t you really want to walk with your girlfriend under the cherries that are beginning to bloom during the day, and listen to Schubert’s music in the evening? Wouldn't it be nice for you to write by candlelight with a quill pen? . Woland's words to the master at the end of the novel are like the final part and cadenza to the whole work. The musical creativity of one of the first romantics of the 19th century, F. Schubert, becomes the final chord of the entire sonata cycle in the novel The Master and Margarita. The reprise turns out to be truncated, shortened and incomplete, since here we no longer meet either the Devil's motive or march-like rhythms.
The personality of F. Schubert immediately brings to mind a number of brilliant works. First of all, vocal masterpieces: a song based on the liturgical text “Ave Maria”, and a cycle of songs “Winter Way”, which was written by the composer a year before his death and symbolizes farewell to the earthly material world.
But how does all this not stick with the disharmony that reigned at the ball at Satan's!!! The Lord of Shadows, for no apparent reason, pleases the ear of the "thrice romantic" master with a melodic, spiritualized and detached from everything earthly Schubert. All the more so, whose composing skill has created an unsurpassed monument of musical composition on the psalm "Ave Maria". Why did it happen??? In addition, the content and symbolic meaning of "Ave Maria" directly echoes the tune of "Hallelujah". Paradox?
M. A. Bulgakov, unlike I. V. Goethe, creates a new image of Satan, unusual for traditional perception. Mephistopheles I. W. Goethe is sarcastic, cynical and conceited. The logic and thinking of Mephistopheles is fundamentally different than the whole nature and way of thinking of Bulgakov's Woland. Here we come into contact with two interpretations of evil in world literature. To understand the essence of this issue, it is necessary to conduct a separate scientific study. But I just want to note that if you remove the horns and hooves, then Mephistopheles will become a "realist, metaphysician, empiricist and positivist." M. A. Bulgakov took as the epigraph for the novel the main idea of ​​Faust, which drew a clear line between Mephistopheles and Woland.
The evil of Mephistopheles is carnal, primitive, visual and cunning. It is outlined very sharply in the most traditional and understandable strokes, it "always wants evil." Mephistopheles mocks mortal people, plays on their most primitive passions, ridiculing the highest creation of God. Although in drawing up his conclusions when arguing his own essence, he can easily compete with the Behemoth cat and even surpass the latter somewhere.
Woland's evil is also carnal and vile, but it is more rationally critical (remember the "old man" I. Kant with his critical philosophy and proofs of God) than primitively cynical. Woland does not hate people, but only watches them, doubts them and checks them: “But I beg you in parting, believe at least that the devil exists! I don't ask you for more. Keep in mind that there is a seventh proof for this, and the most reliable one! And now it will be presented to you. At the same time, throughout the entire novel, he never once says anything in the direction of God, being perfectly aware that there can never be a globe without shadows and “naked light” in the Absolute here, in the material world. For this is the world of passions!
M. A. Bulgakov portrayed evil to some extent reasonable, or rather, doubting and thinking. No matter how paradoxical it may sound. Woland's controversy against I. Kant originates from Satan's desire to substantiate evil by rational methods. Whereas the great German philosopher takes the Moral Law and the Good as the basis of the rational. Mephistopheles is an empiricist-positivist, Woland is a logician-rationalist. It was not for nothing that Matthew Levi called the lord of shadows an "old sophist." Woland's evil "eternally does good"! This is where the “eternal shelter” for the master and Margarita comes from, filled with the music of F. Schubert. "On this road, master, on this." The vocal-melodic music of F. Schubert puts the “last point” to all those collisions that arose with the first waltz rhythms of I. Strauss at the beginning of the story.
As the final result of all the above research, we can conclude the following conclusions: 1) the novel by M. A. Bulgakov "The Master and Margarita" from the point of view of the structure of the plot is a "novel in the novel", but at the musical-figurative level, it really is "music in the novel". His musicality is represented in the names and nicknames of some of the characters, which are consonant with the names of specific composers. There are also mentions of some musical genres, and sometimes the names of musical works; 2) the composition of "music in the novel" - is a classic 3-part sonata form (exposition, development, reprise), in which the contrasting themes of the Main and Side parts can be clearly distinguished (dance genres are a symbol of Satan's ball, singing "Hallelujah" and music by F. Schubert - "Ave Maria" - a symbol of the spiritual and divine). The connecting party is the march genre. This musical sonata form is organically woven into the fabric of the literary form; 3) the climax of the “music in the novel” is directly the ball of Satan itself, filled with disharmony, cacophony, atonality and jazz improvisations, which in turn contradicts the harmony, melodiousness and unity of musical works of a religious and cult nature; 4) the music of I. Strauss at the beginning and the music of F. Schubert at the end frame the novel at the extreme points of the plot, demonstrating the main vector of development of the through action from the “earthly” essence of the waltz to the spiritual romanticism of vocal genres. Here it is appropriate to draw a parallel with a similar transformation of the image of the poet Ivan Nikolayevich Bezdomny - from a furious atheist to a spiritually enlightened person. I. N. Bezdomny personifies the process of realizing one's sinful essence and guilt, followed by repentance and repentance. A conscious atheist consciously becomes diametrically opposed - a believing person almost at the beginning of the novel, when he pinned an icon on the chest of his "whitish sweatshirt" with a safety pin; 5) dance rhythm, march rhythm and vocality are the main characteristics of Bulgakov's "music in the novel", as well as the main genre and temporal-intonational features.
Consequently, the spiritual and figurative meaning of music in the novel by M. A. Bulgakov "The Master and Margarita" almost completely coincides with the ideological concept, theme and problems of the literary work as a whole. The author, creating the main work of his life, picked up musical moments in tune with the idea of ​​the novel, consciously putting in a certain ideological content and compositional logic. The surnames of composers, musical genres, names of musical works are not accidental and, in addition to their symbolic and figurative meaning, they have contextual functionality. Or as the professor of black and white magic Woland put it: “A brick for no reason at all<…>will never fall on anyone's head."

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