Princess M.N. Volkonskaya
From N. Nekrasov's poem "Russian Women"
Read
Vera Enyutina, Anatoly Ktorov, Yuri Rashkin
From an old watercolor, a lovely young woman looks at us with a deep dreamy look. We do not know either the name of the artist or the exact date of the portrait. But on the other hand, we know that it depicts Marina Raevskaya - one of the most famous women of the 19th century, the daughter of the famous general of 1812, a secular beauty ...
The young Pushkin stayed in the Raevsky family for a long time, knowing Maria Nikolaevna as a girl and fascinated, like many, by the way, with her beauty, intelligence and grace. Traces of passionate youthful love remained in the soul of the poet for life. Many wonderful lines in Pushkin's poems and poems are dedicated to Raevskaya. At least these:
Know at least the sounds
It happened, dear to you, -
And think that in the days of separation,
In my changing fate
Your sad desert
The last sound of your speeches -
One treasure, a shrine.
One love of my soul.
These words (from the “dedication to Poltava”), imbued with sadness, some surprisingly tender, reverent feeling, were written in 1828. At this time, Maria Nikolaevna had been married for several years. Behind a stern and reserved man, much older than himself, a hero of the battle with the Napoleonic troops and also a general, like her father. The husband of Maria Nikolaevna belonged to a noble, wealthy, "highly connected" family, "showered by the graces of the royal court" family of princes Volkonsky. He was highly valued in the society of the nobility, they were envious of his position, respected for his firm, independent character. In a word, the life of Maria Volkonskaya, it would seem, should have been cloudless. She spent almost a year in Italy, her son was born. And her beauty blossomed like never before... But why is there so much sadness in Pushkin's lines? What "desert" and "separation", what "last sound" of her speeches are they talking about? And why does the "dedication" mention this charming woman in a tone of hopeless bitterness, an irretrievable loss? Let's remember history. In December 1825, an unheard-of event occurred that shook all the foundations of the autocratic "order" - the "gentry rebellion". It turned out to involve people who were just as highly honored, who occupied the same privileged position in the "light" as Prince Volkonsky ... The profiles of the five Decembrists who died on the scaffold fill the fields of drafts of Pushkin's works. The rest became prisoners of terrible stone sacks, a “convict swindler” who lost all “rights of the state” and, together with thieves and murderers, walked along the stage to the Siberian mines ... Few returned from there thirty years later according to the “gracious” manifesto of Alexander II. Only nineteen people out of a hundred and twenty ...
Sergei Volkonsky is back. The meeting with this stern, piercingly intelligent, “simplistic” person was a huge event for the young writer Count Leo Tolstoy: he began writing the novel The Decembrists. In his mind, the image of Andrei Bolkonsky began to appear. Maria Nikolaevna soon (in 1863) died. It was only in 1902 that the tsarist censorship decided to let the Notes written in French by her through for publication. It was a stunning document, for all its simplicity, recreating the tragic episodes in the life of the exiled Decembrists. And her own fate, which she herself chose and which many considered voluntary suicide.
Russian women, wives of the Decembrists - there were few of them. But their names - Volkonskaya, Trubetskaya, Muravieva and others - forever remained in literature, in history, in memory, in hearts ... The wonderful poem by Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov "Russian Women", created in 1870-1872, is dedicated to them.
They were not revolutionaries - these young, tender, beautiful women. They even - like Maria Volkonskaya, for example - did not fully accept the "bloody" plans of their husbands. But they could not “reign at the balls” serenely or enjoy motherhood, knowing that people dear to them are tormented in hard labor, in shackles. That is why Nekrasov called his two poems - "Russian Women", seeing in "the selflessness shown by them, evidence of the great spiritual forces inherent in a Russian woman."
In the preface to M. N. Volkonskaya’s Notes, her son told how the poet listened to this chronicle of “proud patience”, suffering and heroism, trying not to miss a single word for his future poem: “Several times a night Nekrasov jumped up and words! "That's enough, I can't," he ran to the fireplace, sat down by it and, clutching his head with his hands, wept like a child.
Volkonskaya’s first meeting with her husband in the Nerchinsk mine made a special impression on him, when this graceful twenty-year-old lady, brought up in “decent” rules, threw herself on her knees in the mud - “and, before hugging her husband, she put fetters on her lips!”
Nekrasov's poem appeared in print and a difficult, terrible time for progressive Russian people - the period of the defeat of the revolutionary populist movement of the 60s, when any mention of the Decembrists, despite the belated amnesty of the "liberator" tsar, was considered "sedition". By publishing the poem “Grandfather” in the journal “Domestic Notes” (the prototype of the hero was S. G. Volkonsky), and then the first (“Princess Trubetskaya”) and the second (“Princess M. N. Volkonskaya” with the subtitle “Grandmothers Notes”) of the part of “Russian Women”, the poet was forced to express in a hidden form the idea of the continuity of revolutionary traditions. He did not speak, for example, about "Decembrists", replacing this word with others - "sufferer", "saint". He never once named "the vengeful coward and executioner" by name. But it was clear to everyone that we were talking about Nicholas I ...
The poem became a romantic hymn of firmness, loyalty to one's convictions. It became a classic work of Russian poetry, the property of which has always been images of high spiritual nobility.
M. B a b a e v a.
Calm, strong and light A marvelously well-coordinated carriage; The count-father himself not once, not twice He tried it first. Six horses were harnessed to it, A lantern was lit inside it. The count himself straightened the pillows, He laid the bear's cavity at his feet, While praying, the icon hung in the right corner And - sobbed ... The princess-daughter ... She is going somewhere this night ... I “Yes, we tear our hearts in half Each other, but, dear, Tell me, what else can we do? Can you help melancholy! One who could help us Now... I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Bless your own daughter And let go in peace! II God knows, see you again, Alas! there is no hope. Forgive me and know: your love, Your last testament I will remember deeply In the far side... I don't cry, but it's not easy to part with you! III Oh, God sees!... But the duty is different, And higher and harder, Calls me... Forgive me, my dear! Do not cry in vain! My path is far, my path is hard, My fate is terrible, But I dressed my chest with steel ... Be proud - I am your daughter! IV Forgive me too, my native land, Forgive me, unfortunate land! And you... O fateful city, Nest of kings... farewell! Who saw London and Paris, Venice and Rome, You won’t seduce him with brilliance, But you were loved by me - V Happily my youth Passed within your walls, I loved your balls, Catania from the steep mountains, I loved the splash of your Neva In the evening silence, And this square in front of her With a hero on a horse... VI I won't forget... Then, then They'll tell our story... And you be damned, gloomy house, Where I danced the first quadrille... That hand Until now burns my hand... Rejoice... …………………..” ______ Calm, strong and light, The cart rolls like a city. All in black, deathly pale, The princess rides in it alone, And her father's secretary (in crosses, To inspire dear fear) With servants gallops ahead ... Whistle like a whip, shouting: "Down!" The coachman passed the capital ... The princess's way lay far, It was a harsh winter ... At each station, a traveler herself comes out: "Hurry up Harness the horses!" And with a generous hand pours the Chervonets of the Yamskaya servants. But the path is hard! On the twentieth day We hardly arrived in Tyumen, We rode for ten more days, “We will see the Yenisei soon,” the secretary said to the princess. - The sovereign does not go like that! ... "______ Forward! The soul is full of longing, The road is getting harder, But the dreams are peaceful and light - She dreamed of her youth. Wealth, shine! A high house On the banks of the Neva, The stairs are upholstered with carpets, There are lions in front of the entrance, The magnificent hall is elegantly decorated, The whole is burning with lights. O joy! today is a children's ball, Chu! the music is booming! Scarlet ribbons were woven into her In two blond braids, Flowers, outfits brought Unseen beauty. Dad came - gray hair, blush - He calls her to the guests: “Well, Katya! miracle sundress! He drives everyone crazy!" She loves, loves without limits. Spinning in front of her is a Flower Garden of cute children's faces, Heads and curls. Children are dressed up like flowers, Old men are dressed up: Plumes, ribbons and crosses, Heels ringing with a clatter ... A child dances, jumps, Without thinking about anything, And childhood frisky jokingly Flashes ... Then Another time, another ball She dreams: a handsome young man stands in front of her , He whispers something to her ... Then again balls, balls ... She is their mistress, They have dignitaries, ambassadors, They have all the fashionable world ... “Oh dear! why are you so gloomy? What's in your heart?" - Child! I'm bored with secular noise, Let's leave soon, let's leave! - And so she left With her chosen one. Before her is a wonderful country, Before her is eternal Rome ... Ah! What would we remember life for - If we didn't have those days When, having escaped somehow From our homeland And having passed the boring north, We will rush to the south. Before us needs, no one has rights over us ... Himself-friend Always only with those who are dear to us, We live as we want; Today we are looking at an ancient temple, And tomorrow we will visit the Palace, the ruins, the museum… How fun, moreover, To share our thoughts With our beloved creature! Under the charm of beauty, In the power of strict thoughts, You wander around the Vatican Depressed and gloomy; Surrounded by an obsolete world, You don't remember the living. But how strangely amazed You are in the first moment later, When, having left the Vatican, You return to the living world, Where the donkey neighs, the fountain rustles, The artisan sings; Trade brisk boils, They shout in every way: “Corals! shells! snails! Ice cream water!” The naked dances, eats, fights, Satisfied with himself, And the young Roman woman scratches her jet-black scythe... The day is hot, The rabble is unbearable, Where can we find peace and shade? We go to the first temple. No worldly noise is heard here, Coolness, silence And semi-darkness ... Strict thoughts Again, the soul is full. A crowd of saints and angels A temple is decorated above, Porphyry and jasper under the foot, And marble on the walls ... How sweet it is to listen to the noise of the sea! You sit there for an hour, An unoppressed, cheerful mind Works meanwhile ... Up to the sun on a mountain path You climb high - What a morning before you! How easy it is to breathe! But hotter, hotter southern day, There is no dewdrop on the greenery of the valleys ... Let's go under the shade of Umbrella-shaped pinn ... The princess remembers those days of Walks and conversations, They left an indelible mark in my soul. But she can’t return her days of old, Those days of hopes and dreams, How not to return later about them The tears shed by her! the first is accustomed to rule, How the second is a slave! She dreams of groups of beniaks In the fields, in the meadows, She dreams of the groans of barge haulers On the banks of the Volga ... Full of naive horror, She does not eat, does not sleep, She hurries to fill her companion with questions: “Tell me, is the whole region like this? There is no shade contentment?..” - You are in the kingdom of beggars and slaves! - The answer was short ... She woke up - a dream in her hand! Chu, heard ahead Sad ringing - shackled ringing! "Hey, coachman, wait!" Then the party of exiles is coming, The chest aches more painfully. The princess gives them money, - “Thank you, good luck!” For a long, long time their faces Seems to her later, And she cannot drive away her thoughts, Do not forget her sleep! “And that party was here ... Yes ... there are no other ways ... But the blizzard covered their trail. Hurry, coachman, hurry! ..” ______ The frost is stronger, the path is more deserted, The farther to the east; Some wretched town three hundred miles away, But how joyfully you look At the dark row of houses, But where are the people? Silence everywhere, Not even the dogs can be heard. Frost drove everyone under the roof, They drink gulls out of boredom. A soldier has passed, a cart has passed, Chimes are beating somewhere. The windows froze ... a light flickered a little in one ... The cathedral ... a jail at the exit ... The driver waved his whip: “Hey you!” - and there is no town, The last house has disappeared ... To the right - the mountains and the river, To the left - a dark forest ... The sick, tired mind is boiling, Sleepless until morning, The heart yearns. Change of thoughts Excruciatingly fast; The princess sees either her friends, or a gloomy prison, And then she thinks - God knows why, - That the starry sky is a leaf strewn with sand, And the moon is a circle stamped with red sealing wax ... The mountains have disappeared; The Plain Without End began. More dead! Will not meet the eyes of the living tree. “And here is the tundra!” - says the Coachman, Buryat steppe. The princess looks intently And thinks wistfully: This is where the greedy man comes For gold! It lies along the riverbeds, It is at the bottom of the swamps. Mining on the river is difficult, Swamps are terrible in the heat, But worse, worse in the mine, Deep underground!.. There is deathly silence, There is dawnless darkness... Why, cursed country, Yermak found you? moon. The princess did not sleep for a long time, Full of heavy thoughts... She fell asleep... She dreams of the tower... She stands at the top; The familiar city in front of her Excites, makes noise; Countless crowds are running towards the vast square: Official people, merchant people, Pedlars, priests; Hats, velvet, silk, Sheepskin coats, Armenians are full of colors ... Some regiment was already there, More regiments came, More than a thousand soldiers Converged. They are "hooray!" shouting, They are waiting for something... The people were clamoring, the people were yawning, Hardly a hundredth understood What was going on here... But he laughed out loud, Slyly squinting his eyes, A Frenchman familiar with the storms, Capital coffers... New regiments arrived: "Surrender!" - they shout. The answer to them is bullets and bayonets, They don't want to give up. Some brave general, Having flown in a square, began to threaten - They took him down from his horse. Another approached the ranks: “The king will grant you forgiveness!” They killed that too. The Metropolitan himself appeared With banners, with a cross: “Repent, brethren! - says, - Fall before the king! The soldiers listened, crossing themselves, But the answer was friendly: - Go away, old man! pray for us! You don't care here ... - Then the guns were brought in, The king himself commanded: "Pa-li! .." "... Oh, dear! Are you alive? The princess, having lost her memory, rushed forward and fell headlong from a height! In front of her is a long and damp Underground corridor, Every door has a sentry, All doors are locked. The surf of the waves like a splash Outside is heard by her; Inside - rattling, guns shine In the light of lanterns; Yes, the distant noise of steps And a long rumble from them, Yes, the cross-chime of the clock, Yes, the cries of sentries ... With the keys, the old and gray-haired, Mustachioed invalid - “Come, sadness, follow me! She speaks softly. “I will lead you to him, He is alive and unharmed…” She trusted him, She followed him… They walked for a long, long time… Finally the Door squealed, and suddenly he was in front of her… a living dead man… in front of her was a poor friend! Falling on his chest, she hurries to ask: “Tell me what to do? I am strong, I can take terrible revenge! He will get courage in his chest, Willingness is hot, Is it necessary to ask? .. ”- Do not go, Do not touch the executioner! - “Oh dear! what did you say? I do not hear your words. Now this terrible battle of the clock, Now the cries of sentries! Why is there a third between us?..” - Your question is naive. - "It's time! the hour has struck!" - That “third” said ... ______ The princess shuddered - she looks around Frightened, Her heart freezes with horror: Not everything here was a dream! Dark! To meet not a soul, The coachman on the goats was sleeping, The hungry wolf in the wilderness groaned piercingly, Yes, the wind beat and roared, Playing on the river, Yes, the foreigner sang somewhere In a strange language. An unknown language sounded with stern pathos, And more heartbreaking, Like a gull's cry in a storm... The princess is cold; that night the frost was unbearable, strength fell; she can't fight anymore with him. Horror seized the mind, That she couldn't get there. The coachman hasn't sung for a long time, He didn't urge his horses on, He can't hear the front troika. "Hey! are you alive, coachman? What are you shutting up? don't you dare sleep!" - Don't be afraid, I'm used to it... - They're flying... Nothing can be seen from the frozen window, She's a dangerous sleeper, But don't drive him away! He instantly conquered the will of a sick woman And, like a magician, moved her to another land. That land - it is already familiar to her - As before full of bliss, And with a warm sunbeam And with the sweet singing of the waves He greeted her like a friend ... Wherever she looks: “Yes, this is the south! yes, this is the south! - Everything speaks to the eye ... Not a cloud in the blue sky, The valley is full of flowers, Everything is flooded with the sun, on everything, Down and on the mountains, The seal of mighty beauty, Everything around rejoices; To her the sun, the sea and the flowers Sing: "Yes - this is the south!" In the valley between the chain of mountains And the blue sea She flies at full speed With her chosen one. Their path is a splendid garden, From the trees the aroma flows, On each tree a ruddy, lush fruit burns; Through the dark branches, the Azure of the skies and waters shines through; Ships soar across the sea, Sails flash, And the mountains, visible in the distance, Go to heaven. How wonderful are their colors! For an hour, the rubies glowed there, Now the topaz sparkled On their white ridges... Here is a pack mule walking step by step, In bells, in flowers, Behind the mule is a woman with a wreath, With a basket in her hands. She yells at them, "Goodbye!" - And, suddenly laughing, He quickly throws a Flower on her chest ... yes! it's south! A country of antique, dark-skinned maidens And eternal roses, a country ... Chu! melodic chant, Chu! music is heard! .. “Yes, this is the south! yes, it's south! (Sings a good dream to her) Again, your beloved friend is with you, Again he is free! ..!
Part two
It's been almost two months now. Day and night on the road, wonderfully well-coordinated, And the end of the road is far away! The prince's companion was so tired, That he fell ill near Irkutsk, After waiting for him for two days, she rushed further alone ... She was met in Irkutsk by the head of the city himself; How dry the relics, straight as a stick, Tall and gray-haired. Slipped from his shoulder dokha, Under it - crosses, uniform, On the hat - feathers of a rooster. The venerable brigadier, Cursing the coachman for something, Hastily jumped up And opened the doors of the sturdy wagon for the Princess... Princess (included in the station building) To Nerchinsk! Deposit quickly! Governor I've come to meet you. Princess Tell me to give me horses! GOVERNOR Please slow down for an hour. Our road is so bad, You need to rest... Princess Thank you! I am strong... My path is not far... Governor It will still be eight hundred miles, And the main trouble: The road will go worse here, Dangerous driving! with him. Your father is a rare person, In his heart, in his mind, Having imprinted in his soul forever Gratitude to him, I am ready for the services of his daughter ... I am all yours ... Princess But I do not need anything! (Opening the door to the hallway.) Is the crew ready? GOVERNOR As long as I do not order, It will not be served ... Princess So order it! I'm asking... Governor But there's a clue here: A paper was sent with the last mail... Princess What's in it: Shouldn't I come back? GOVERNOR Yes, sir, it would be more true. Princess But who sent you the paper and about what? what - they were joking, or something, over their father? He arranged everything himself! GOVERNOR No... I dare not say... But the way is still far away... Princess So what's the use of chattering! Is my cart ready? Governor No! I haven't ordered yet… Princess! here I am the king! Sit down! I already said. What did I know the count of old, And the count ... even though he let you go, Out of his kindness, But your departure killed him ... Come back quickly! Princess No! that once decided - I will execute to the end! It's funny for me to tell you, How I love my father, How he loves. But another duty, And higher and more holy, Calls me. My tormentor! Let's have horses! GOVERNOR Allow me. I myself agree, That every hour is precious, But do you know well, What awaits you? Our side is fruitless, And that one is even poorer, Spring is shorter than ours, Winter is even longer. Yes, sir, eight months of winter There - do you know? There people are rare without a stigma, And those souls are callous; In the wild, they prowl around. There are only varnaks; Horrible is the prison house there, The mines are deep. You don't have to be with your husband. Minutes eye to eye: You have to live in a common barracks, And food: bread and kvass. Five thousand convicts are there, Embittered by fate, Start fights at night, Murder and robbery; Short and terrible for them is the trial, There is no more terrible trial! And you, princess, are always here as a Witness... Yes! Believe me, you will not be spared, No one will take pity! Let your husband - he is to blame ... And you endure ... why? Princess It will be terrible, I know, The life of my husband. Let mine be no more joyful than his! GOVERNOR But you won't live there: That climate will kill you! I have to convince you, Do not go ahead! Oh! Do you live in a country like this, Where people's air Is not steam - ice-cold dust Comes out of the nostrils? Where is gloom and cold all year round, And in the brief heat - Never-drying swamps Malicious vapors? Yes ... a terrible edge! From there, the beast of the forest also runs away, When a hundred-day night Hangs over the country ... Princess People live in that land, I'll get used to joking ... Governor Live? But remember your youth ... child! Here the mother - with snowy water, Having given birth, will wash her daughter, The baby of a formidable storm lulls all night long, And the wild beast wakes up, growling Near the forest hut, Yes, a blizzard, madly knocking At the window, like a brownie. From dense forests, from deserted rivers Collecting his tribute, Native man has grown stronger With nature in battle, And you? .. Princess Let death be my destiny - I have nothing to regret! .. I'm going! food! I must die near my husband. GOVERNOR Yes, you will die, but first Torment the one Whose head is irretrievably lost. For him Please: do not go there! Tolerably alone, Tired of hard work, Come to your prison, Come - and lie down on the bare floor And with stale crackers Fall asleep ... and a good dream came - And the prisoner became king! Flying like a dream to relatives, to friends, Seeing you yourself, He will wake up to daily labors And cheerful and quiet in heart, And with you? Princess Ah!.. It is better for you to save these speeches for others. All your tortures will not extract Tears from my eyes! Leaving my homeland, friends, Beloved father, Having taken a vow in my soul To fulfill my duty to the end, - I will not bring tears To the damned prison - I will save pride, pride in him, I will give him strength! Contempt for our executioners, Consciousness of rightness Will be our true support. GOVERNOR Wonderful dreams! But they will get for five days. Don't you be sad for a century? Believe my conscience, You want to live. Here is stale bread, prison, disgrace, Need and eternal oppression, And there are balls, a brilliant courtyard, Freedom and honor. How to know? Perhaps God has judged... You will like another, The law has not deprived you of your right... Princess Be silent!.. My God!.. Governor Yes, I speak frankly, You'd better return to the world. Princess Thank you, thank you for your good advice! And before there was an earthly paradise, And now this paradise with His caring hand Nikolay has cleared. There people rot alive - Walking coffins, Men - a bunch of Judas, And women - slaves. What will I find there? Hypocrisy, Desecrated honor, Insolent rubbish triumph And vile revenge. No, they won't lure me into this cut down forest, Where there were oaks to the sky, And now the stumps are sticking out! Return? to live among slander, Empty and dark deeds? No, no, I do not want to see Corrupt and stupid, I will not show myself to the executioner Free and saints. To forget the one who loved us, To return - everything is simple? .. Governor But he did not spare you? Think, child: About whom is longing? who is love for? Princess Be quiet, General! Governor If not for the valiant blood Flowing into you, I would be silent. But if you rush forward, Not believing in anything, Perhaps pride will save you ... You got him With wealth, with a name, with a mind, With a trusting soul, And he, not thinking about what will become of his wife, Was carried away by an empty ghost, And - this is his fate! .. And what? .. you run after him, Like a miserable slave! Princess No! I am not a miserable slave, I am a woman, a wife! Let my fate be bitter - I will be faithful to it! Oh, if only he had forgotten me For another woman, My soul would have had the strength Not to be his slave! But I know: love for the motherland is my rival, And if it were necessary, I would forgive him again! .. ______ The princess had finished ... The stubborn old man was silent. "Well? Tell me, general, to prepare my wagon? Without answering the question, He looked at the floor for a long time, Then he said in thought: - See you tomorrow - and left ... ______ The next day, the same conversation. He asked and persuaded, But again the venerable general was rebuffed. Having exhausted all his convictions And having exhausted himself, He walked for a long time, important, silent, Walked around the room And finally said: - Be so! You will not be saved, alas! .. But know: by taking this step, you will lose everything! “What else do I have to lose?” - Having galloped after your husband, You must sign a renunciation of your rights! - The old man effectively fell silent, From these terrible words He, obviously, was waiting for the benefit. But the answer was this: “You have a gray head, And you are still a child! Our rights seem to you Rights - not jokingly. No! I do not value them, Take them soon! Where is the renunciation? I will sign! And lively - horses!..” GOVERNOR Sign this paper! What are you?.. My God! After all, this means to become a beggar And a simple woman! You will say forgiveness to everything, What was given to you by your father, What should be inherited Should come to you later! The rights of property, the rights of the nobility to lose! No, you think first - I'll come to you again! .. ______ He left and was not there all day ... When darkness descended, the Princess, weak as a shadow, Went to him herself. The general did not accept her: He was seriously ill ... Five days, while he was ill, Painful passed, And on the sixth he himself came And abruptly said to her: - I have no right to let you go, Princess, horses! You will be led along the stage With an escort ... - Princess My God! But that's how the months will pass On the road? .. GOVERNOR Yes, in the spring You'll come to Nerchinsk, if the Road doesn't kill you. Hardly four versts per hour Chained goes; In the middle of the day - a halt, With the sunset of the day - an overnight stay, And a hurricane found in the steppe - Bury yourself in the snow! Yes, sir, there is no number of delays, Another has fallen, weakened ... Princess Not well, I understood - What does your stage mean? Governor Under the guard of the Cossacks With weapons in our hands We lead by stages thieves And convicts in chains, They are naughty along the way, Look, they will run away, So they will fasten them to each other with a rope - and lead. Difficult path! Yes, that's what it is: Five hundred will go, And the Nerchinsk mines And a third will not reach! They die like flies on the way, Especially in winter ... And you, princess, should you go like this? . Get back home! Princess Oh no! I was waiting for this... But you, but you... a villain!.. A whole week has passed... People have no heart! Why not say at once? .. I would have gone a long time ago ... Tell the party to collect - I'm going! I don't care!.. ______ - No! you'll go! .. - Suddenly the old general cried out, Closing his eyes with his hand. - How I tormented you... My God! Sorry! Yes, I tormented you, But I myself was tormented, But I had a strict order Barriers to put up for you! And didn't I put them on? I did everything I could, Before the king my soul is Pure, God is my witness! Caution hard biscuit And life locked up, Shame, horror, labor Staged way I tried to scare you. You were not afraid! And even if I don’t keep my head on my shoulders, I can’t, I don’t want to tyrannize you anymore ... I’ll drive you there in three days ... (Opening the door, screams.) Hey! harness now!.. -Princess M. N. Volkonskaya
Grandma's Notes
(1826 - 27)
Chapter I
Pranksters grandchildren! Today they returned from the walk again: - We, grandmother, are bored! On rainy days, When we sat down in the portrait room And you began to tell us, It was so fun!.. Dear, Tell me something else! But I drove them away: “You will have time to listen; Of my stories Will get for whole volumes, But you are still stupid: you will recognize them, As you will be familiar with life! I told you everything available to you According to your childish years: Go for a walk through the fields, through the meadows! Go… enjoy the summer!” And so, not wanting to be indebted to my grandchildren, I write notes; For them, I save portraits of people who were close to me, I will bequeath them an album - and flowers From the grave of my sister - Muravyova, A collection of butterflies, the flora of Chita And the views of that harsh country; I bequeath them an iron bracelet... Let them cherish it sacredly: As a gift to his wife, his grandfather forged From his own chain once... ______ I was born, my dear grandchildren, Near Kiev, in a quiet village; I had a beloved daughter with my family. Our family was rich and ancient, But my father exalted him even more: More tempting than the hero's glory, More expensive than the homeland - the fighter who did not love peace did not know anything. Working miracles, for nineteen years He was a regimental commander, He gained courage and laurels of victories And honors honored by the world. His military glory began with the Persian and Swedish campaign, But his memory merged inseparably With the great twelfth year: Here his life was a long battle. We shared campaigns with him, And in another month we won’t remember the date, If we didn’t tremble for him. "Defender of Smolensk" was always ahead of Dangerous deeds... Wounded near Leipzig, with a bullet in his chest, He fought again a day later, So the chronicle of his life says: Among the generals of Russia, As long as our fatherland stands, He will be remembered! Vityi my Father was showered with praise, Calling him Immortal; Zhukovsky honored him with a loud stanza, glorifying the Russian leaders: Under Dashkova's personal courage, the heat And the sacrifice of a patriotic father The poet sings. Warlike gift Revealing in countless battles, Your great-grandfather defeated enemies in gigantic struggle not by force alone: 0 it was said that he combined military genius with courage. He is preoccupied with the war, in his family the Father did not interfere in anything, But he was cool at times; almost a deity He seemed to our mother, And he himself was deeply attached to her. We loved our father - in the hero. Having finished his campaigns, in his estate, He slowly died out at rest. We lived in a big suburban house. Having entrusted the children to an Englishwoman, the Old Man rested. I learned everything a rich noblewoman needs. And after the lessons I ran to the garden And sang carefree all day, My voice was very good, they say, Father listened to him willingly; He brought his notes to an end, He read newspapers, magazines, Asked feasts; Gray-haired generals, like him, came to visit my father, And there were endless disputes then; Meanwhile, the youth danced. Do you tell the truth? I was always At that time the queen of the ball: The fire of my languid eyes is blue, And the black with a blue tint The big braid, and the blush is thick On the swarthy, beautiful face, And my height is tall, and my flexible figure, And the proud tread - captivated The then beauties: hussars, lancers, That stood close to the regiments. But I reluctantly listened to their flattery ... My father tried for me: - Isn't it time to get married? There is already a groom, He fought gloriously near Leipzig, The sovereign, our father, fell in love with him, And gave him the rank of general. Older than you ... and well done, Volkonsky! You saw him At the tsar's parade... and he visited us, He kept wandering around the park with you! - "Yes I remember! Such a high general ... "- He is the best! - The old man laughed ... "Father! he spoke so little to me!” - I noticed, blushed ... - You will be happy with him! - the Old Man decided coolly, - I didn’t dare to object ... Two weeks passed - and I stood under the crown With Sergei Volkonsky, I didn’t know much about his fiancé, I didn’t know much about my husband, - We lived so little under the same roof, So rarely each other seen! In distant villages, for a winter stay, His brigade was scattered, Sergei incessantly traveled around her. And meanwhile I fell ill; In Odessa, then, on the advice of doctors, I swam for a whole summer; In the winter, he came for me there, I rested with him for a week At the main apartment ... and again trouble! Once I fell asleep soundly, Suddenly I hear the voice of Sergei (in the night, It was almost at dawn): “Get up! find me the keys! Fire up the fireplace! I jumped up ... I looked: he was alarmed and pale. I fired up the fireplace. From the boxes, my husband took the papers to the fireplace - and burned hastily. Some read fluently, in a hurry, Others threw without reading. And I helped Sergei, trembling And pushing them deeper into the fire ... Then he said: "We'll go now", Gently touching my hair. Everything was soon packed with us, And in the morning, without saying goodbye to anyone, We set off. We rode for three days, Sergei was gloomy, in a hurry, He took me to my father's estate And immediately said goodbye to me.Chapter II
“He left! .. What did his pallor mean And everything that happened that night? Why didn't he tell his wife? Something bad has happened!" For a long time I did not know peace and sleep, Doubts tormented my soul: “I left, I left! I'm alone again!..” My relatives consoled me, Father explained his haste With some accidental affair: “The Emperor himself sent Him somewhere with a secret mission, Don't cry! You shared campaigns with me, You know the vicissitudes of military life; he'll be home soon! You carry a precious pledge under your heart: now you must beware! Everything will end well, dear; Husband's wife spent alone, And she will meet, shaking the child! .. Alas! His prediction did not come true! To see his poor wife And his first-born son, the father had a chance Not here - not under the roof of his own! How dearly my first-born cost me! I was sick for two months. Exhausted by the body, killed by the soul, I recognized the first nanny. I asked about my husband. - Haven't been yet! - Did you write? And there aren't even any letters. - "Where is my father?" - I rode off to Petersburg. - "And my brother?" - Went there. - “My husband did not come, there is not even a letter, And my brother and father rode off,” I said to my mother. - I'm going by myself! Enough, enough we've been waiting!" And no matter how hard the daughter of the Old Woman tried to beg, I firmly decided; I remembered that last night And everything that happened then, And I clearly realized that something bad was happening to my husband ... It was spring, I had to drag myself along the floods of the river. I arrived a little alive again. "Where is my husband?" - I asked my father. - Your husband went to fight in Moldova. - "He does not write? .." He looked sadly And the father came out ... The brother was dissatisfied, The servant was silent, sighing. I noticed that they were cunning with me, Carefully hiding something; Referring to the fact that I need peace, They didn’t let anyone in, They surrounded me with some kind of wall, They didn’t even give me newspapers! I remembered: my husband has a lot of relatives, I am writing - I beg you to answer. Weeks pass - not a word from them! I'm crying, I'm losing my strength ... There is no feeling more painful than a secret thunderstorm. I assured my father with an oath, That I would not shed a single tear, - And he, and everything around was silent! Loving, my poor father tormented me; Regretting, doubling grief... I found out, I found out everything at last! He was also blamed, That he was ... My head was spinning ... I didn’t want to believe my eyes ... “Really? ..” - the words did not fit in my mind: Sergey - and a dishonorable deed! I remember a hundred times I read the verdict, Delving into the fatal words: I ran to my father, - the conversation with my father reassured me, dear! Like a heavy stone fell from my soul. I blamed Sergei for one thing: Why didn't he tell his wife anything? After thinking, and then I forgave: “How could he talk? I was young, When he parted with me, I carried my son under my heart then: For mother and child, he was afraid! - I thought so. - Let the trouble be great, I have not lost everything in the world. Siberia is so terrible, Siberia is far, But people live in Siberia too! In the morning, in a deep, restorative sleep, I fell asleep - and got up more cheerfully. My health soon recovered, I saw friends, I found my sister - I asked her And I learned a lot of bitter things! Unfortunate people! .. “All the time Sergey (Said the sister) was kept in prison; he did not see his relatives or friends ... Only yesterday Father saw him. You can also see him: When the verdict was read, Dress them in rags, take off their crosses, But they were given the right to meet! . I went to the fortress to my husband and sister. We first came to the "general", Then we were led by an elderly general Into a vast gloomy hall. “Wait, princess! we will now!" Bowing politely to us, He left. I didn't take my eyes off the door. Minutes seemed like hours. Steps gradually fell silent in the distance, I flew behind them with my thoughts. It seemed to me: a bunch of keys was brought, And the rusty door creaked. In a gloomy closet with an iron window, the exhausted prisoner languished. “My wife has come to visit you!..” Face pale, He trembled all over, perked up: “Wife! the general said loudly. And I saw Sergei... No wonder a thunderstorm swept over him: Wrinkles appeared on his forehead, His face was deathly pale, his eyes Didn't shine so brightly, But there was more in them than in the old days, That quiet, familiar sadness; For a minute they looked inquisitively, And suddenly shone with joy, It seemed that he looked into my soul ... I bitterly, crouching against his chest, Sobbed ... He hugged me and whispered: - There are strangers here. - Then he said that it was useful for him to learn the virtue of humility, which, however, easily endures prison, And he added a few words of encouragement ... The Witness walked importantly around the room: we were embarrassed ... Sergei showed his clothes: - Congratulate me, Masha, with a new thing - And quietly added: - Understand and forgive, - His eyes sparkled with tears, But then the spy managed to come up, He bowed his head low. I said out loud, "Yeah, I didn't expect to find you in those clothes." And quietly whispered: “I understand everything. I love you more than before…” - What should I do? And I will live in penal servitude (Until I get bored with life). - “You are alive, you are healthy, so why grieve? (After all, hard labor will not separate us?) "- So that's what you are! - Sergey said, His face was cheerful ... He took out a handkerchief, put it on the window, And I put mine next to it, Then, parting, Sergeyev's handkerchief I took it - my husband stayed ... After a year of separation, an hour of Goodbye seemed short, But what was there to do ! Our deadline has passed - Others would have had to wait ... The general put me in the carriage, Happily wished to stay ... I found great joy in a scarf: Kissing him, I saw a few words on one corner; This is what I read, trembling: “My friend, you are free. Understand - do not blame! Mentally, I am cheerful and - I wish my wife to see the same. Goodbye! I send a bow to the little one ... ”My husband had a large family in St. Petersburg; to know everything - yes! I went to them, worried for three days, begging to save Sergei. Father said: “Why are you suffering, daughter? I tried everything - it's useless! And it’s true: they already tried to help, Praying the emperor tearfully, But the requests didn’t reach his heart… I still saw my husband, And the time was ripe: they took him away!.. As soon as I was left alone, I immediately heard in my heart, and I was in a hurry, The parental home seemed stuffy to me, And I began to ask my husband. Now I will tell you in detail, friends, My fatal victory. The whole family rebelled amicably and menacingly, When I said: "I'm going!" I don’t know how I managed to resist, What have I suffered… God! They persuaded, asked, But the Lord himself supported my will, Their speeches did not break her! And I had to cry a lot and bitterly ... When we gathered for dinner, Father casually threw a question to me: - What did you decide on? - "I'm going!" The father was silent... the family was silent... I wept bitterly in the evening, Rocking the child, I thought... Suddenly the father comes in, - I shuddered... I was waiting for a thunderstorm, but, sad and quiet, He said cordially and meekly: - Why do you offend your blood relatives? What will happen to the poor orphan? What will happen to you, my dove? There is no need for female power! Your great sacrifice is in vain, You will find only a grave there! - And he waited for an answer, and caught my eye, Caressing me and kissing ... - It's my own fault! I ruined you! he exclaimed suddenly, indignantly. Where was my mind? Where were the eyes! Our whole army already knew ... - And he tore his gray hair: - Forgive me! don't execute me, Masha! Stay! .. - And again he prayed fervently ... God knows how I resisted! Leaning my head on his shoulder, "I'll go!" - I said quietly ... - Let's see! .. - And suddenly the old man straightened up, His eyes sparkled with anger: - One repeats your stupid language: "I'll go!" Isn't it time to say Where and why? You think first! You don't know what you're talking about! Can your head think? Do you consider both mother and father to be enemies? Or are they stupid ... Why are you arguing with them, as with equals? Look deeper into your heart, Look ahead in cold blood, Think! .. I will see you tomorrow ... - He left, threatening and angry, And I, a little alive, fell before the icon of the saint - in the exhaustion of my soul ...Chapter III
- Think! .. - I did not sleep the whole night, I prayed and cried a lot. I called the Mother of God for help, I asked God for advice, I learned to think: my father ordered Thinking ... is not an easy task! How long has he thought for us - and decided, And our life flew peacefully? I studied a lot; Read in three languages. I was noticeable In front drawing rooms, at social balls, Skillfully dancing, playing; I could talk about almost everything, I knew music, I sang, I even rode very well, But I didn’t know how to think at all. It was only in my last, twentieth year that I learned that life is not a toy. Yes, in childhood, it used to be that the heart would tremble, As a cannon would inadvertently burst. Life was good and free; my father did not speak sternly to me; At the age of eighteen I went down the aisle And I didn't think much either... Lately my head Worked hard, blazed; I was tormented by the unknown at first. When I learned of the misfortune, Sergey stood before me forever, Jail-weary, pale, And sowed many previously unknown passions in my poor soul. I experienced everything, and most of all, a cruel feeling of impotence. I prayed for the sky and strong people for him - efforts are in vain! And anger burned my sick soul, And I worried out of tune, I was torn, I cursed ... but I had no strength, No time to think calmly. Now by all means I must think - My Father so pleases. Let my will be invariably one, Let every thought be fruitless, I honestly fulfill my father's order I decided, my dears. The old man said: - You think about us, We are not strangers to you: And the mother, and the father, and the child, finally, - You recklessly abandon everyone, For what? - "I'm doing my duty, father!" - Why are you dooming yourself to torment? - “I will not suffer there! Here a terrible torment awaits me. Yes, if I stay, obedient to you, I am tormented by separation. Knowing no rest, night or day, Weeping over the poor orphan, I will always think of my husband, Yes, hear his meek reproach. Wherever I go, I read my sentence on the faces of people: In their whisper - the story of my betrayal, In a smile I guess reproachfully: That my place is not at a magnificent ball, But in a gloomy distant desert, Where a tired prisoner in a prison corner Is tormented by a fierce thought, Alone ... without support ... Hurry to him! There, I can breathe freely. I shared joy with him, I also have to share the prison... So it pleases the sky! .. Forgive me, my dears! For a long time my heart prompted me a decision. And I firmly believe: it is from God! And in you says - regret. Yes, if I have to decide the choice Between husband and son - no more, I'm going to where I'm needed more, I'm going to the one who is in captivity! I will leave my son in my own family, He will soon forget me. Let grandfather be a father to the little one, Sister will be his mother. He's still so small! And when he grows up And learns a terrible secret, I believe: he will understand his mother's feeling And justify her in his heart! But if I stay with him ... and then He will find out the secret and ask: “Why didn’t you follow your poor father? ..” And will he throw a word of reproach at me? Oh, it's better for me to lie alive in the grave, Than to deprive my husband of consolation And in the future to bring contempt to my son ... No, no! I don't want contempt!.. And it may happen - I'm afraid to think! - I will forget my first husband, I will obey the conditions of a new family, And I will not be a mother to my son, But a fierce stepmother? .. I am burning with shame ... Forgive me, poor exile! Forget you! Never! never! You are the only chosen one of the heart ... Father! you don't know how dear he is to me! You don't know him! First, In a brilliant outfit, on a proud horse, I saw Him in front of the regiment; About the exploits of his life in battle I listened eagerly to the stories of his comrades - and with all my heart I fell in love with the hero in him ... Later, in him I fell in love with the father of Baby, who was born by me. The separation dragged on without end. He stood firmly under a thunderstorm ... You know where we saw each other again - Fate did its will! - The last, best love of the heart In prison, I gave him! In vain his slander ink, He was more perfect than before, And I fell in love with him, like Christ ... In his prison clothes Now he stands before me without a change, Shining with meek Majesty. A crown of thorns above his head, In his gaze - unearthly love ... My father! I must see him... I'll die, longing for my husband... You, serving your duty, spared nothing, And you taught us the same... approved the decision! ______ That's what I thought in the long night, And so I spoke with my father ... He said quietly: - Crazy daughter! - And went out; sadly silent And brothers and mother ... I left at last ... Hard days dragged on: Like a cloud, a disgruntled father walked, Other household pouted. No one wanted to help either by advice, or by deed; but I did not doze off, Again I spent a sleepless night, I wrote a letter to the sovereign (At that time, the rumor began to spread, That it was as if the sovereign ordered Trubetskaya to return from the road. I was afraid of such a fate, But the rumor was wrong). The letter was taken by my sister, Katya Orlova. The king himself answered me ... Thank you, I found a kind word in the answer! He was elegant and sweet (Nicholas wrote in French.) At first the sovereign said, how terrible that land, Where I wanted to go, How rude the people there, how hard life is, How fragile and tender my age is; Then he hinted (I did not suddenly understand) That the return is hopeless; And then - I deigned to honor my Resolve with praise, regretting, That, obedient to my duty, I could not spare the Criminal husband ... Not daring To oppose such high feelings, He gave his permission; But I would rather wish that I would stay at home with my son ... Excitement seized me. "I'm going!" For a long time my heart has not beaten so joyfully ... “I'm going! I'm going! Now it's decided!..” I cried, prayed fervently… In three days I got ready for my long journey, I pawned everything of value, I stocked up on a reliable fur coat, stocked up with linen, I bought a simple wagon. Relatives looked at my preparations, Mysteriously somehow sighing; None of the family believed in the departure… I spent the last night with the child. Bending over my son, I tried to remember the smile of my dear little one; I played with him with the Seal of the fatal letter. She played and thought: “My poor son! You don't know what you're playing! Here is your fate: you will wake up alone, Unfortunate! You will lose your mother! And in grief, falling on his hands with my Face, I whispered, sobbing: “Forgive me for your father, My poor, I must leave ...” And he smiled; he did not think to sleep, Admiring the beautiful package; This large and red seal amused Him... With the dawn, the child fell asleep calmly and soundly, And his cheeks turned red. Without taking my eyes off my beloved face, Praying at his cradle, I greeted the morning ... I immediately got ready. I conjured my sister again To be a mother to my son ... My sister swore ... The wagon was already ready. My relatives were sternly silent, Farewell was mute. I thought: “I died for the family, I lose everything sweet, everything dear ... there is no count of sad losses! ..” father. He sat at a distance dejectedly, He did not say a word, did not raise his face - It was pale and gloomy. The last things were taken down to the wagon, I cried, losing my courage, The minutes passed painfully slowly ... I finally hugged my sister And hugged my mother. "Well, God bless you!" - I said, kissing the brothers. Imitating their father, they were silent... The old man got up, indignant, Ominous shadows walked along his compressed lips, along the wrinkles of his brow... I silently handed him the icon And knelt before him: “I'm going! even a word, even a word, father! Forgive your daughter, for God's sake!..” The old man finally looked at me Thoughtfully, intently, sternly And, raising his hands threateningly over me, He said barely audibly (I was trembling): “Look! come back home in a year, otherwise - damn it! .. - I fell ...Chapter IV
“Enough, enough hugs and tears!” I sat down - and the troika rushed off. "Farewell, relatives!" In the December frost I parted from my father's house, And raced without rest for more than three days; I was fascinated by speed, She was the best doctor for me ... I soon rode to Moscow, To my sister Zinaida. Sweet and smart There was a young princess. How did you know music? How she sang! Art was sacred to her. She left us a book of short stories, Filled with gentle grace, Poet Venevitinov sang stanzas to her, Hopelessly in love with her; In Italy, Zinaida lived for a year And to us - according to the poet - "Brought the color of the southern sky in her eyes." The queen of the Moscow world, She did not shy away from artists, - they had a life in Zina's living room; They respected and loved her And they called Severnaya Korinna... We cried. She liked my fatal determination: “Be strong, my poor! be fun! You have become so dark. How can I drive these dark clouds away? How can we say goodbye to you? And that's what! go to sleep until evening, And in the evening I will arrange a feast. Don't be afraid! everything will be in your taste, My friends are not rake, We will sing your favorite songs, We will play our favorite plays ... ”And in the evening the news that I arrived, In Moscow, many already knew. At that time, our unfortunate husbands Moscow's attention was occupied: As soon as the court decision was announced, It was embarrassing and terrifying to everyone, In the salons of Moscow, one Rostopchin joke was repeated: “In Europe, a shoemaker, in order to become a gentleman, Rebels, - of course! We made a revolution to know: In the shoemakers, or what, she wanted to? .. ”And I became the“ heroine of the day ”. Not only artists, poets - All our noble relatives moved; Ceremonial, in a train of carriages Thundered; having powdered their wigs, Potyomkin's equal in years, The former aces-old men appeared With excellently courteous greetings; The old women of the state ladies of the former court They embraced me: “What heroism! .. What a time! ..” - And shook their heads to the beat. Well, in a word, what was more visible in Moscow, What was visiting her in passing, Everything gathered in the evening to my Zina: There were many artists here, I heard Italian singers here, That they were then famous, My father's colleagues, friends There were, sadly killed . There were relatives of those who had gone there, Where I myself was in a hurry, A group of writers, beloved then, With me friendly goodbye: There were Odoevsky, Vyazemsky; was an inspired and sweet Poet, A cousin's admirer, who rested early, Untimely taken by the grave. And Pushkin was here... I recognized him... He was a friend of our childhood, In Yurzuf he lived with my father. At that time, pranks and coquetry We laughed, we chatted, we ran with him, We threw flowers at each other. Our whole family went to the Crimea, And Pushkin went with us. We were having fun. Finally, the mountains and the Black Sea! Father ordered the carriages to stand, We walked here in the open. Then I was already sixteen years old. Flexible, high beyond her years, Leaving my family, I shot forward like an arrow, Rushed off with a curly-haired poet; Without a hat, with a loose long braid, Burning in the midday sun, I flew to the sea - and before me was the View of the southern coast of Crimea! I looked around with joyful eyes, I jumped, played with the sea; When the tide receded, I ran all the way to the water, When the tide returned again And the waves approached in a ridge, I hurried back to run away from them, And the waves overtook me! .. And Pushkin looked ... and laughed that I wet my boots. “Shut up! my governess is coming!” - I said sternly ... (I hid That my feet got wet ...) Then I read In "Onegin" wonderful lines. I broke out all over - I was happy ... Now I'm old, those red days are so far away! I will not hide that Pushkin at that time seemed to be in love with me ... but, to tell the truth, who did he not fall in love with then! But, I think, he did not love anyone Then, except for the Muse: perhaps No more love occupied him With her excitement and sorrow ... Yurzuf is picturesque: in the luxurious gardens of the Valley they drowned him, At his feet the sea, in the distance Ayudag ... Tatar huts clung To the foot of the rocks; The grapes ran out On the steep vine like a weighted vine, And in places the poplar stood motionless In a green and slender column. We occupied a house under an overhanging rock, The poet took shelter upstairs, He told us that he was pleased with fate, That he fell in love with the sea and mountains. His walks continued by day And were always alone, He often wandered by the sea at night. In English he took lessons from Lena, my sister: Byron then He was extremely interested. Sometimes my sister sometimes translated something from Byron - secretly; She read her attempts to me, And then tore and threw, But someone from the family told Pushkin, That Lena composed poems: The poet picked up the shreds under the window And brought the whole thing to the stage. Praising the translations, for a long time afterwards he embarrassed the unfortunate Lena ... Having finished his studies, he went downstairs And shared his leisure with us; There was a cypress tree at the very terrace, The poet called him a friend, Dawn often caught him under it, He said goodbye to him when he left ... And they told me that Pushkin's trace remained In the native legend: “A nightingale flew to the poet at night, Like the moon in the sky swam out, And together with the poet he sang - and, listening to the singers, nature fell silent! Then the nightingale, - narrates the people, - He flew here every summer: And whistles, and cries, and as if calling To the forgotten friend of the poet! But the poet died - the Feathered singer stopped flying ... Full of grief, Since then, the cypress has stood as an orphan, Listening only to the murmur of the sea ... "But Pushkin glorified him for a long time: Tourists visit him, Sit under him and pluck fragrant branches from him as a memory ... Ours was sad meeting. Poet Suppressed was a true grief. He remembered the games of childish years In the distant Yurzuf, over the sea. Leaving his usual mocking tone, With love, with endless longing, With the participation of his brother, he admonished the Girlfriend of that carefree life! He walked around the room with me for a long time, He is preoccupied with my fate, I remember, my relatives, what he said, Yes, I won’t be able to convey: “Go, go! You are strong in soul, You are rich in bold patience, May your fateful path be peacefully completed, May you not be embarrassed by loss! Believe me, such purity of soul Is not worth this hateful light! Blessed is he who changes his vanities For the feat of selfless love! What is light? disgusting masquerade! In him, the heart becomes callous and dormant, Eternal, calculated coldness reigns in it, And ardent truth embraces ... Enmity will be pacified by the influence of years, Before time, the barrier will collapse, And you will return the penates of the fathers And the canopy of the home garden! Hereditary sweetness will merge healingly into the tired chest of the Valley, You will proudly look back at the path you have traveled And recognize joy again. Yes I believe you! You will not endure grief for long, The royal wrath will not be eternal ... But if you have to die in the steppe, They will remember you with a heartfelt word: Captivating is the image of a brave wife, Showing spiritual strength And in the snowy deserts of a harsh country Hiding early in the grave! You will die, but your suffering story Will be understood by living hearts, And at midnight your great-grandchildren about you Conversations will not end with friends. They will show them, sighing from the bottom of their hearts, Your unforgettable features, And in memory of the great-grandmother who died in the wilderness, Full bowls will be drained! remember. But what am I?.. God grant you health and strength! And there you can see each other: The tsar of Pugachev instructed me to write, Pugach torments me shamelessly, I want to deal with him for glory, I will have to be in the Urals. I’ll go in the spring, I’ll grab it as soon as possible, What good will gather there, Yes, I’ll wave it to you, having moved the Urals ... ”The poet wrote“ Pugachev ”, But he didn’t get into our distant snows. How could he keep this word? .. ______ I listened to music, full of sadness, I eagerly listened to the singing; I didn’t sing myself - I was sick, I only begged others: “Think: I’m leaving with the dawn ... Oh, sing, sing! play! .. I won’t hear such music, Not a song ... Let me hear enough! And wonderful sounds flowed endlessly! Solemn song of farewell The evening is over - I do not remember the face Without sadness, without sad thought! The features of the motionless, stern old women Lost their arrogant cold, And their eyes, which seemed to be forever extinguished, Shone with a tender tear... The artists tried to surpass themselves, I don’t know a song more charming That song-prayer for a good path, That blessing song... 0, how inspired they played They! How they sang! .. and cried themselves ... And everyone said to me: “God save you!”, - Saying goodbye to me with tears ...Chapter V
Frosty. The road is white and smooth, Not a cloud in the entire sky... The driver's mustache and beard are frozen, He is trembling in his hoodie. His back, shoulders and hat are in the snow, He wheezes, urging the horses on, And his horses cough on the run, Sighing deeply and hard... Ordinary views: the former beauty of the Deserted Russian region, Scaffolding grimly rustle, Casting giant shadows; The plains are covered with a diamond carpet, Villages sank in the snow, A landowner's house flashed on a hillock, Church domes flashed ... Ordinary meetings: an endless convoy, A crowd of praying old women, Thundering mail, a merchant's figure On a pile of featherbeds and pillows; Treasury truck! about a dozen carts: Rifles and knapsacks are piled. Soldiers! Liquid, beardless people Must be still recruits; Sons are escorted by male fathers Yes, mothers, sisters and wives: “They are taking away, taking the hearts to the regiments!” - Bitter groans are heard ... Raising his fists over the driver's back, the courier frantically rushes. On the very road, having caught up with the hare, The mustachioed landowner huntsman Waved across the ditch on a nimble horse, Beats off the prey from the dogs. With all his retinue, the Landowner stands aside - beckons to the greyhounds ... Usual scenes: at hell stations - They swear, argue, jostle. "Well, touch!" From the windows the guys are looking, Priests are fighting at the taverns; Near the smithy a horse beats in the machine, It turns out, covered with soot A blacksmith with a red-hot horseshoe in his hand: “Hey, guy, hold her hooves! ..” In Kazan, I made my first halt, I fell asleep on a hard sofa; From the windows of the hotel I saw the ball And, I confess, I sighed deeply! I remembered: an hour or two with a little left before the New Year. "Happy people! how fun they are! They have peace and freedom, They dance, they laugh!.. and I don't know Fun... I'm going to suffer! Here again they frightened me Trubetskoy, As if they turned her back: “But I'm not afraid - let me be with you!” The clock has already struck ten, It's time! I dressed up. "Is the coachman ready?" “Princess, you had better wait for Dawn,” the old caretaker remarked. - The blizzard began to rise! - “Ah! whether you have to try it! I'll go. Hurry, for God's sake! ..” The bell rings, you can’t see it, What’s further, the road gets worse, Pushing the beginning strongly to the sides, We’re driving in some kind of ridges, I don’t even see the driver’s back: The hillock has swollen between us. My wagon almost fell, The troika shied away and stopped. My coachman groaned: “I reported: Wait! the road is gone!..” She sent the road to look for the coachman, She closed the kibitka with matting, I thought: it’s true, midnight is close, I suppressed the clock’s spring: It struck twelve! The year is over, and a new one has been born! Throwing back the mat, I look ahead - The blizzard is still spinning. What does she care about our sorrows, Before our new year? And I'm indifferent to your anxiety And to your moans, bad weather! I have my own fatal longing, And I fight alone with it ... I congratulated my driver. “Wintering is not far here,” he said, “we will wait for the dawn in it!” We drove up, woke up some miserable forest guards, their smoky stove was flooded. A resident of the forest told horrors, Yes, I forgot his tales ... We warmed ourselves with tea. Time to rest! The blizzard got worse and worse. The forester crossed himself, turned off the night lamp, And with the help of his stepson Fedya Heaved two huge stones to the door. "For what?" - The bears got it! - Then he lay down on the bare floor, Everything soon fell asleep in the gatehouse, I thought, thought ... lying in a corner On a frozen and hard matting ... At first there were funny dreams: I remembered our holidays, The hall burning with lights, flowers, Gifts, healthy bowls, And noisy speeches, and caresses... around Everything sweet, everything expensive - But where is Sergey? .. And, thinking about him, I forgot everything else! I jumped up briskly as soon as the coachman Chilled knocked on the window. As soon as it was light, a forester led us out onto the road, But he refused to accept the money. "Don't, dear! God protect you, The roads are dangerous further! The frosts grew stronger along the way And soon became terrible. I completely closed my wagon - And it's dark, and terrible boredom. What to do? I remember poems, I sing, Someday the flour will end! Let my heart cry, let the wind roar And snowstorms cover my path, And yet I move forward! So I rode for three weeks... Once, hearing some kind of sodom, I opened my mat, I looked: we were driving through a vast village, My eyes were immediately blinded: Fires were burning along my road... There were peasants, peasant women, Soldiers - and a whole herd of horses... “Here is the station: they are waiting for silver coins, * - Said my driver. - We will see her, She, tea, is not far away ... "Siberia sent her wealth, I was glad for this meeting:" I'll wait for the silver! Maybe something About her husband, about our learn. She has an officer with her, their way from Nerchinsk ... ”I am sitting in the tavern, waiting ... A young officer entered; He smoked, He didn’t nod his head to me, He somehow haughtily looked and walked, And so I said with anguish: “You saw, right ... do you know Those ... victims of the December case ... Are they healthy? What is it like for them there? I would like to know about my husband ... "He impudently turned his face to me - The features were evil and harsh - And, releasing a ring of smoke from his mouth, He said: - Undoubtedly healthy, But I don’t know them - and I don’t want to know, I never know convicts I saw! .. - How painful it was for me, dear! I am silent ... Unfortunate! offended me! .. I cast only a contemptuous glance, With dignity, the young man came out ... Some soldier was warming himself by the stove, He heard my curse And a kind word - not barbaric laughter - Found in his soldier's heart: - Healthy! - he said, - I saw them all, They live in the Blagodatsky mine! .. - But then the arrogant hero returned, I hurriedly left for the wagon. Thanks soldier! thank you dear! No wonder I endured torture! In the morning I look at the white steppes, I heard the ringing of a bell, Quietly I enter the wretched church, Mixed with the prayerful crowd. After listening to mass, she approached the priest, asked to serve a prayer service ... Everything was calm - the crowd did not leave ... I was completely overcome by grief! Why are we offended so much, Christ? Why are they covered with reproach? And the rivers of long-accumulated tears fell on hard slabs! It seemed that the people shared my sadness, Praying silently and sternly, And the voice of the priest sounded sorrowful, Asking for God's exiles... Poor, lost temple in the desert! I was not ashamed to cry in it, The plight of the sufferers praying there, The murdered soul is not offended ... (Father John, that he served a prayer service And so unfeignedly prayed, Then he was a priest in the casemate And became related to us in soul.) And at night the coachman could not restrain the horses, The mountain was terribly steep, And I flew with my wagon From the high peak of Altai! In Irkutsk they did the same to me, What they tormented Trubetskaya with… Baikal. Crossing - and such a cold, That the tears in the eyes froze. Then I parted with my wagon (The toboggan run disappeared). I felt sorry for her: I cried in her And thought, thought a lot! Road without snow - in a cart! At first the cart occupied me, But soon afterwards, neither alive nor dead, I recognized the charm of the cart. I also knew hunger on this way, Unfortunately, they didn't tell me, That it's impossible to find anything here, The Buryats kept their mail here. They dry beef in the sun, they warm themselves with brick tea, And that one with bacon! Lord save Try you, unaccustomed! But near Nerchinsk, they gave me a ball: Some merchant with a thorny In Irkutsk noticed me, overtook And in my honor a rich man Arranged a holiday ... Thank you! I was glad And delicious dumplings and a bath ... And the holiday, like the dead, slept all over In his living room on the sofa ... I did not know what awaited me ahead! I galloped to Nerchinsk in the morning, I can't believe my eyes - Trubetskaya is coming! "I caught up with you, I caught up!" - They are in Blagodatsk! - I rushed to her, Dropping happy tears ... Only twelve miles away is my Sergey, And Katya is with me Trubetskaya!Chapter VI
Who knew loneliness on a long journey, Whose companions are grief and blizzard, Who is given by providence to find a friend unexpectedly in the desert, He will understand our mutual joy ... - I'm tired, I'm tired, Masha! - “Don't cry, my poor Katya! Our friendship and youth will save us! We were inextricably linked by one lot, Fate deceived us equally, And the same stream swept away your happiness, In which mine drowned. Let us walk hand in hand on the difficult path, As we walked through the green meadow. And we will both carry our cross with dignity And we will be strong with each other. What have we lost? think sister! Vanity toys… Not much! Now before us is the road of goodness, the road of God's chosen ones! We will find humiliated, mournful men, But we will be their consolation, We will soften the executioners with our meekness, We will overcome suffering with patience. Support for the dying, the weak, the sick We will be in a hateful prison And we will not lay down our hands until we fulfill the Vow of selfless love! .. Our sacrifice is pure - we give everything to our Chosen Ones and to God. And I believe: we will pass unscathed All our difficult road ... ”Nature is tired of fighting with itself - The day is clear, frosty and quiet. The snow near Nerchinsk appeared again, We rode famously in a sleigh ... The Russian coachman spoke about the exiles (He even knew their names): - On these horses I drove them to the mine, Yes, only in a different carriage. It must have been an easy road for them: They joked, made each other laugh; For breakfast, my mother baked a cheesecake for me, So I gave them a cheesecake, They gave me two kopecks - I didn’t want to take it: “Take it, boy, it will come in handy ...” - Chattering, he quickly flew into the village: - Well, ladies! where to stand? - "Take us to the chief directly to the prison." - Hey guys, don't be offended! - The chief was obese and, it seems, strict, He asked: what kind are we? “In Irkutsk they read the instructions to us And they promised to send us to Nerchinsk ...” - Stuck, stuck, my dear, there! - "Here's a copy, they gave it to us..." - What's a copy? you will get into trouble with her! - "Here is the royal permission for you!" The stubborn eccentric did not know French, He did not believe us - laughter and torment! "Do you see the tsar's signature: Nicholas?" He doesn't care about the signature, Give him a paper from Nerchinsk! I wanted to go after her, But he announced that he would go himself And by morning he would get the paper. "Is it true? .." - Honestly! And it will be more useful for you to sleep! .. - And we got to some kind of hut, Dreaming about tomorrow morning; With a window made of mica, low, without a chimney, Our hut was such that I touched the wall with my head, And rested my feet against the door; But these trifles were funny to us, Not that it really happened to us. We are together! now I could easily endure And the most difficult torments ... I woke up early, and Katya was sleeping. I went through the village out of boredom: The huts are the same as ours, up to a hundred in number, sticking out in a ravine, And here is a brick house with bars! There were sentries with him. “Are there criminals here?” - Here, let's go. - "Where?" - Get to work, let's go! - Some children led me ... We all ran - unbearably I wanted to see my husband soon; He's close! He walked here recently! "Do you see them?" - I asked the children. - Yes, we see! They sing well! There's the door... look! Let's go now, Farewell! .. - The guys ran away ... And, as if underground, the leading door I saw - and a soldier. The sentry looked sternly, his saber flashed naked in his hand. Not gold, grandchildren, and it helped here, Although I offered gold! Perhaps you want to read further, Yes, the word is asked from the chest! Let's slow down a bit. I want to say Thank you, Russian people! On the road, in exile, wherever I was, All the hard hard labor time, People! I cheerfully carried with you My unbearable burden. Let many sorrows fall to your part, You share other people's sorrows, And where my tears are ready to fall, Yours have fallen there for a long time! .. You love the unfortunate, Russian people! Suffering made us related… “The law itself will not save you in hard labor!” - At home they told me; But I also met good people there, At the extreme stage of the fall, They knew how to express to us in their own way Criminals tribute of respect; I was greeted with my inseparable Katya with my contented smile: “You are our angels!” For our husbands Lessons they performed. More than once, a branded potato convict gave me furtively from the floor: “Eat! hot, now from the ashes!” The baked potatoes were good, But my chest is still aching with longing, When I remember about it ... Accept my low bow, poor people! Thank you all send! Thank you! .. They considered their work to be nothing For us, these people are simple, But no one poured bitterness into the cup, No one from the people, relatives! .. The sentry yielded to my sobs. How I asked God! He lit up a lamp (kind of a torch), I entered some cellar And went down for a long time lower and lower; then I went along a deaf corridor, He walked in ledges: it was dark in it And stuffy; where the mold pattern lay; where the water flowed quietly And flowed down in puddles. I heard a rustle; the earth sometimes fell in lumps from the walls; I saw terrible holes in the walls; It seemed that such roads started from them. I forgot my fear, Deftly my feet carried me! And suddenly I heard shouts: “Where, where are you going? Want to get killed? Ladies are not allowed to go there! Come back soon! Wait!” My trouble! apparently, the duty officer came (His sentry was so afraid), He shouted so menacingly, his voice was so angry, The noise of quick steps was approaching ... What to do? I blew out the torch. Forward In the dark, she ran at random ... The Lord, if He wants, will lead everywhere! I don't know how I didn't fall, How I didn't leave my head there! Fate took care of me. Past Terrible clefts, dips and pits, God brought me out unscathed: I soon saw the light ahead, There, an asterisk seemed to glow ... And a joyful cry flew out of my chest: “Fire!” I made a sign of the cross... I threw off my fur coat... I run to the fire, How God saved my soul! A frightened horse that has fallen into a quagmire So breaks, seeing the land ... And it became, relatives, brighter and brighter! I saw an elevation: Some kind of square… and shadows on it… Chu… hammer! work, movement ... There are people! Will they be the only ones to see? The figures became more distinct... Closer, the lights flickered stronger. They must have seen me ... And someone standing on the very edge Exclaimed: “Isn't it an angel of God? Look, look!" - After all, we are not in paradise: Cursed mine similar to hell! - said others, laughing, And quickly ran out to the edge, And I hastily approached. Wondering, Motionless they waited. "Volkonskaya!" - Trubetskoy suddenly shouted (I recognized the voice). They let down a ladder for me; I went up like an arrow! All the people were familiar: Sergei Trubetskoy, Artamon Muravyov, Borisov, Prince Obolenskaya ... A stream of heartfelt, enthusiastic words, Praise of my female insolence I was showered; tears flowed down their faces, full of sympathy... But where is my Sergei? “They have already gone after him, He would not have died only of happiness! The lesson ends: three pounds of ore We get for Russia a day, As you can see, our labors did not kill us! They were merry, They joked, but under their gaiety I read a sad story (I didn’t know the chains on them, That they would be chained - I didn’t know) ... I consoled Trubetskoy with the news about Katya, about my dear wife; All the letters, fortunately, were with me, With greetings from my native land, I was in a hurry to convey them. Meanwhile, below, the officer was getting excited: “Who took the ladder? Where and why did the Superintendent of Works leave? Madam! Remember my word, You will be killed! .. Hey, the stairs, devils! Live! .. (But no one set her up ...) Kill yourself, kill yourself to death! Feel free to come down! what are you doing?..” But we went deeper and deeper… From everywhere the gloomy children of the prison ran towards us, marveling at an unprecedented miracle. They paved the way ahead for me, They offered their stretchers... Underground tools on the way, We met dips, mounds. Work was in full swing to the sounds of shackles, To songs, - work on the abyss! They knocked on the elastic chest of the mines And the spade and the iron hammer. There, with a burden, a prisoner walked along a log, I involuntarily shouted: “Hush!” There, a new mine was led into the depths, There people climbed higher On shaky props ... What labors! What courage! .. The blocks of ore mined in places sparkled And they promised a generous tribute ... Suddenly someone exclaimed: “He is coming! is coming!" Looking around the space with my eyes, I almost fell, rushing forward, - The ditch was in front of us. "Be quiet, be quiet! Surely then you flew thousands of miles, - said Trubetskoy, - so that on the mountain we all die In a ditch - at the goal? And he held my hand tightly: “What would happen when you fell?” Sergei was in a hurry, but he walked quietly. The shackles sounded sad. Yes, chains! The executioner did not forget anything (O vengeful coward and tormentor!), - But he was meek, like the redeemer who chose him as his Weapon. The working people and the guard parted before him, keeping silence... And then he saw, he saw me! And he stretched out his hands to me: "Masha!" And he stood, as if exhausted, far away ... Two exiles supported him. Tears flowed down his pale cheeks, His outstretched hands trembled... The sound of my sweet voice instantly sent renewal, Joy, hope, oblivion of torment, Oblivion of my father's threat! And with a cry of "I'm coming!" I ran at a run, Unexpectedly jerking my arm, Along a narrow plank over a gaping moat Towards an inviting sound... "I'm coming!.." The face, drunk with a smile, sent me its caress... And I ran up... And a holy feeling filled my soul. Only now, in the fatal mine, Hearing terrible sounds, Seeing the shackles on my husband, I fully understood his torment, And his strength ... and readiness to suffer! She put it to her lips!.. And God sent a quiet angel In the underground mines - in an instant And the talk and the roar of work fell silent, And the movement froze, Strangers, their own - with tears in their eyes, Agitated, pale, stern - Stood around. On motionless legs The fetters did not make a sound, And the raised hammer froze in the air ... Everything is quiet - no song, no speech ... It seemed that everyone here shared with us Both the bitterness and the happiness of the meeting! Holy, holy was the silence! Some kind of high sadness, Some kind of solemn thought is full. “Yes, where did you all disappear?” Suddenly, a violent scream came from below. The overseer of works has appeared. "Go away! the old man said with tears. - On purpose, mistress, I hid, now go away. It's time! They will take away! The bosses are cool people ... ”And as if from paradise I descended into hell ... And only ... and only, relatives! In Russian, the officer scolded me, Downstairs, waiting in alarm, And from above, my husband said in French: “See you, Masha, in prison! ..”Calm, durable and light
A wonderfully well-coordinated carriage;
The count-father himself more than once, not twice
Tried it first.
Six horses harnessed to it,
The lantern inside was lit.
The count himself corrected the pillows,
I made a bear cavity at my feet,
Making a prayer, scapular
Hung in the right corner
And - sobbed ... Princess-daughter ...
Goes somewhere tonight...
Yes, we tear the heart in half
To each other, but, dear,
Tell me, what else can we do?
Can you help melancholy!
One who could help us
Now... I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
Bless your own daughter
And let go in peace!
God knows, see you again
Alas! there is no hope.
Forgive and know: your love,
Your last testament
I will remember deeply
On the far side...
I don't cry, but it's not easy
To part with you!
Oh, God knows! ... But the duty is different,
And higher and harder
Calling me... Forgive me, my dear!
Do not cry in vain!
Far is my way, hard is my way,
My fate is terrible
But I dressed my chest with steel ...
Be proud - I'm your daughter!
Forgive me too, my native land,
Sorry, unfortunate land!
And you... oh fatal city,
Nest of kings... farewell!
Who has seen London and Paris
Venice and Rome
That you do not seduce with brilliance,
But you were loved by me -
Happy my youth
Passed within your walls
I loved your balls
Catania from the steep mountains,
I loved the splash of your Neva
In the evening silence
And this square in front of her
With a hero on horseback...
I can't forget... Then, then
Tell our story...
And you be damned, gloomy house,
Where is the first quadrille
I danced... That hand
So far it's burning my hand...
Rejoice. . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .?
Calm, strong and light,
A cart rolls by the city.
All in black, deathly pale,
The princess rides in it alone,
And the father's secretary (in crosses,
To instill dear fear)
With servants galloping ahead ...
Fistula with a whip, shouting: "Down!"
The coachman passed the capital ...
The path lay far for the princess,
It's been a harsh winter...
At every station
A traveler comes out: "Hurry
Harness your horses!"
And sprinkles with a generous hand
Chervonets of Yamskaya's servants.
But the path is hard! On the twentieth day
Barely arrived in Tyumen,
They rode for another ten days,
We will see the Yenisei soon, -
He told the princess to keep secret. -
The sovereign does not travel like that!...?
Forward! Soul full of sadness
The road is getting harder
But dreams are peaceful and easy -
She dreamed of her youth.
Wealth, shine! high house
On the banks of the Neva
Staircase upholstered with carpet
Lions in front of the entrance
The magnificent hall is elegantly decorated,
The lights are all on fire.
O joy! now a children's ball,
Chu! the music is booming!
Scarlet ribbons were woven into her
In two Russian braids,
Flowers, outfits brought
Unseen beauty.
Papa came - gray, blush, -
He invites her to guests:
?Well, Katya! miracle sundress!
He drives everyone crazy!
She loves, loves without limits.
Spinning in front of her
Flower garden of cute children's faces,
Heads and curls.
Children are dressed up like flowers,
Smarter old people:
Plumes, ribbons and crosses,
With the sound of heels...
Dancing, jumping child,
Not thinking about anything
And childhood frisky joking
Sweeps... Then
Another time, another ball
She dreams: in front of her
A handsome young man is standing
He whispers something to her...
Then again balls, balls ...
She is their mistress
They have dignitaries, ambassadors,
They have all the fashionable light ...
Oh dear! why are you so gloomy?
What's on your heart??
- Child! I'm bored with social noise
Let's go, let's go! -
And so she left
With your chosen one.
Before her is a wonderful country,
Before her is eternal Rome...
Oh! what would we remember life -
If we don't have those days
When, having snatched away somehow
From your homeland
And passing the boring north,
Let's go south.
Needs before us, rights over us
No one ... Himself-friend
Always only with those who are dear to us,
We live as we want;
Today we look at the ancient temple,
Tomorrow we will visit
Palace, ruins, museum..
How fun though
Share your thoughts
With your favorite being!
Under the spell of beauty
In the power of strict thoughts,
You wander through the Vatican
Depressed and gloomy;
Surrounded by an obsolete world,
You don't remember the living.
But how strangely amazed
You in the first moment then
When, after leaving the Vatican,
Return to the living world
Where the donkey neighs, the fountain roars,
The artisan sings;
Trade is booming
They shout in every way:
?Corals! shells! snails!
Ice cream water!?
Dancing, eating, fighting naked,
Satisfied with myself
And a braid as black as pitch
Roman woman young
The old woman is scratching ... It's a hot day,
Unbearable black din,
Where can we find peace and shade?
We go to the first temple.
The noise of life is not heard here,
Coolness, silence
And semi-darkness... Strict thoughts
Again the soul is full.
Saints and angels in a crowd
Temple decorated above
Porphyry and jasper under the foot,
And marble on the walls...
How sweet to listen to the sound of the sea!
You sit for an hour;
Undepressed, cheerful mind
Working meanwhile...
Mountain path to the sun
Climb high -
What a morning before you!
How easy it is to breathe!
But hotter, hotter southern day
In the green of the valleys
There is no dewdrop ... Let's go under the shade
Umbrella pinn...
The princess remembers those days
Walks and conversations
They left in their hearts
An indelible mark.
But do not return her days of the past,
Those days of hopes and dreams
How not to return later about them
Tears shed by her!
Gone are the rainbow dreams
In front of her are a number of paintings.
Downtrodden, downtrodden country:2
Severe lord
And a miserable worker-man
With a bowed head...
As the first to rule,
How slaves the second!
She dreams of groups of benyakov
In the fields, in the meadows,
She dreams of the groans of barge haulers
On the banks of the Volga...
Full of naive horror
She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep
Fall asleep satellite she
Questions in a hurry:
“Tell me, is the whole region like this?
There is no shade contentment?..?
- You are in the kingdom of beggars and slaves! -
The short answer was...
She woke up - in the hand of a dream!
Chu, heard ahead
Sad ringing - shackled ringing!
?Hey, coachman, wait a minute!?
Then the exiled party is coming,
Painful chest,
The princess gives them money, -
?Thanks, good luck!?
She long, long their faces
Dreaming later,
And do not drive away her thoughts,
Don't forget sleep!
And that party was here...
Yes... there is no other way...
But the blizzard covered their trail.
Hurry, coachman, hurry!..?
The frost is stronger, the path is more deserted,
The farther to the east;
Some three hundred miles
wretched town,
But how happy you look
On a dark row of houses
But where are the people? Silence everywhere
Can't even hear the dogs.
Frost drove everyone under the roof,
They drink tea out of boredom.
A soldier passed, a cart passed,
The chimes are striking somewhere.
The windows are frozen... light
In one, a little flickered ...
Cathedral ... at the exit of the prison ...
The coachman waved his whip:
?Hey you!? - and there is no longer a town,
The last house is gone...
To the right are the mountains and the river,
To the left is a dark forest...
Sick, tired mind boils,
Sleepless until morning
Heart yearns. Change of thoughts
Excruciatingly fast;
The princess sees friends
That dark prison
And then she thinks
God knows why
That the starry sky is sand
sprinkled leaf,
And the month - with red sealing wax
Wrinkled circle...
The mountains are gone; started
A plain without end.
More dead! Won't meet the eye
Living tree.
?And here is the tundra!? - speaks
Coachman, Buryat steppe.
The princess gazes
And he thinks sadly:
Here's a greedy man
Goes for gold!
It lies along the riverbeds,
It is at the bottom of the marshes.
Difficult mining on the river,
The swamps are terrible in the heat,
But worse, worse in the mine,
Deep underground!
There is deathly silence
There's an unfathomable darkness...
Why, damn country,
Ermak found you?..
The haze of the night descended in succession,
The moon has risen again.
The princess did not sleep for a long time,
Full of heavy thoughts...
She fell asleep ... she dreams of the tower ...
She stands at the top;
A familiar city before her
Agitated, noisy;
They run to the vast square3
Countless Crowds:
Official people, merchant people,
Peddlers, priests;
Hats, velvet, silk are full of colors,
Sheepskin coats, Armenians...
There was already some kind of regiment, 4
More shelves came
More than a thousand soldiers
Agreed. They "hooray!" screaming,
They are waiting for something...
The people roared, the people yawned,
Hardly a hundredth understood
What's going on here...
But he laughed out loud
Slyly squinting,
A Frenchman familiar with storms,
Capital kuafer...
New shelves arrived:
?Give up!? - they shout.
The answer to them is bullets and bayonets,
They don't want to give up.
Some brave general
Having flown in a square, he began to threaten -
They took him off the horse.
Another approached the ranks:
?The king grants forgiveness to you!?
They killed that too.
The Metropolitan himself appeared
With banners, with a cross:
?Repent, brethren! - says -
Fall before the king!?
The soldiers listened, crossing themselves,
But the answer was friendly:
- Get out, old man! pray for us!
You don't care here... -
Then the guns were brought
The king himself commanded: "Pa-li! .."
?...Oh, honey! Are you alive?
Princess, having lost her memory,
Rushed forward and headlong
Fell from above!
In front of her is a long and damp
underground corridor,
At every door there is a sentry
All doors are locked.
The surf of the waves is like a splash
Outside is heard by her;
Inside - rattling, guns shine
By the light of lanterns;
Yes, the distant sound of footsteps
And a long rumble from them,
Yes, the cross-battle of the clock,
Yes, the screams of sentries ...
With keys, old and gray-haired,
Mustachioed disabled person -
?Come, sadness, follow me! -
She speaks quietly. -
I will take you to him
Is he alive and well...?
She trusted him
She followed him...
We walked for a long, long time ... Finally
The door screeched, and suddenly
In front of her he is... a living dead...
Before her is a poor friend!
Falling on his chest, she
Rush to ask:
?Tell me what to do? I am strong
I can take revenge!
Will get courage in the chest,
Readiness is hot
Should I ask?..? - Do not go,
Don't touch the executioner! -
?Oh dear! what did you say? words
I don't hear yours.
That terrible chime of the clock,
Those are the screams of sentries!
Why is there a third between us? ..?
- Your question is naive.
It's time! the hour has passed!? -
That third one said...
The princess shuddered, looking
Frightened around,
Horror chills her heart:
Not everything here was a dream!..
The moon floated among the skies
No glitter, no rays
To the left was a gloomy forest,
To the right is the Yenisei.
Dark! Towards not a soul
The coachman on the goats was sleeping,
Hungry wolf in the wilderness
groaned piercingly,
Yes, the wind beat and roared,
playing on the river,
Yes, a foreigner sang somewhere
In a strange language
Severe pathos sounded
unknown language,
And more heartbreak,
Like a seagull crying in a storm...
The princess is cold; that night
The frost was unbearable
Forces have fallen; she can't stand it
Fight more with him.
Horror seized the mind,
That she can't get there.
The coachman has not sung for a long time,
Didn't urge the horses
Do not hear the front three
?Hey! are you alive, coachman?
What are you shutting up? don't you dare sleep!?
- Do not be afraid, I'm used to ... -
They fly... From the frozen window
Nothing is visible
She drives a dangerous dream,
But don't chase him away!
He will the sick woman
Instantly conquered
And, like a magician, to another land
She was relocated.
That land - he is already familiar to her, -
As before, the bliss is full,
And warm sunshine
And the sweet singing of the waves
She was greeted like a friend...
Wherever you look:
?Yes, it's south! yes, it's south!? -
Everything speaks to the eye ...
Not a cloud in the blue sky
The valley is full of flowers
Everything is flooded with sun, on everything,
Down and on the mountains
Seal of mighty beauty
Rejoices all around;
To her sun, sea and flowers
They sing: "Yes - this is the south!"
In a valley between a chain of mountains
And the blue sea
She flies at full speed
With your chosen one.
Their path is a luxurious garden,
Fragrance pours from the trees
On every tree is burning
Ruddy, lush fruit;
Through the dark branches
Azure of skies and waters;
Ships sail across the sea,
sails flicker,
And the mountains visible in the distance
They go to heaven.
How wonderful are their colors! In an hour
Rubies glowed there,
Now sparkling topaz
On their white ridges...
Here is a pack mule walking a step,
In bells, in flowers,
Behind the mule is a woman with a wreath,
With a basket in hand.
She shouts to them: "Good trip!"
And suddenly laughing
Throws quickly on her chest
Flower... yes! it's south!
Country of ancient, swarthy maidens
And the land of eternal roses...
Chu! melodic tune,
Chu! music is heard!
Yes, it's south! yes, it's south!
(sings her a good dream)
Again with you beloved friend,
Is he free again!
PART TWO
It's been almost two months now
Constantly day and night on the road
A marvelously well-coordinated carriage,
And all the end of the road is far away!
The princess' companion is so tired,
What fell ill near Irkutsk,
I met her in Irkutsk myself
City chief;
How dry the relics are, how straight the stick is,
Tall and grey.
Slipped from his shoulder doha,
Under it are crosses, a uniform,
On the hat are rooster feathers.
Honorable Brigadier,
Scolding the coachman for something,
hastily jumped up
And the doors of a strong wagon
The princess opened...
Princess (enters the station house)
To Nerchinsk! Deposit quickly!
Governor
I have come to meet you.
Tell them to give me horses!
Governor
Please slow down.
Our road is so bad
You need to rest...
Thank you! I am strong...
My path is far...
Governor
All the same it will be eight hundred miles,
And the main problem:
The road will get worse here
Dangerous ride!
Two words you need to say
On service, and besides
I had the luck of the count to know
Served with him for seven years.
Your father is a rare man
By heart, by mind
Imprinted in the soul forever
Gratitude to him
At the service of his daughter
I'm ready... I'm all yours...
But I don't need anything!
(Opening the door to the hallway.)
Is the crew ready?
Governor
Until I say
It won't be served...
Princess
So order it! I ask...
Governor
But there is a clue here:
Sent with last mail
Paper...
What is in it:
Shouldn't I go back?
Governor
Yes, it would be better.
But who sent you and about what
Paper? what is there
Were you kidding about your father?
He arranged everything himself!
Governor
No... I dare not say...
But the way is still far...
So what a gift and chat!
Is my cart ready?
Governor
No! I haven't ordered yet...
Princess! here I am the king!
Sit down! I already said.
What I knew the count of old,
And the count ... even though he let you go,
By your kindness
But your departure killed him...
Come back soon!
No! once decided
I will complete it!
It's funny for me to tell you
How I love my father
How he loves. But another duty
And above and holy
Calls me. My tormentor!
Let's have horses!
Governor
Allow me, sir. I agree myself
What is precious every hour
But do you know well
What's in store for you?
Our side is barren
And she is even poorer,
In short, our spring is there,
Winter is even longer.
Yes, eight months of winter
There, you know?
There people are rare without stigma,
And those souls are callous;
Freely prowl around
There are only varnaks;
The prison house is terrible there,
Deep mines.
You don't have to be with your husband
Eye to eye minutes:
You have to live in a common barracks,
And food: bread and kvass.
Five thousand convicts there,
Embittered by fate
Start fights at night
Murder and robbery;
The judgment is short and terrible for them,
There is no more terrible court!
And you, princess, are always here
Witness... Yes!
Trust me, you won't be spared
Nobody will take pity!
Let your husband - he is to blame ...
And you endure ... for what?
It will be terrible, I know
My husband's life.
Let it be mine
Not happier than him!
Governor
But you won't live there:
That climate will kill you!
I have to convince you
Don't go ahead!
Oh! Do you live in a country like this
Where is the air in people
Not by ferry - ice dust
Coming out of the nostrils?
Where darkness and cold all year round,
And in brief heats -
Non-drying swamps
Bad couples?
Yes ... a terrible edge! Get out of there
The beast of the forest also runs,
When the hundred day night
Hang over the country...
People live in that region
I'm used to joking...
Governor
Live? But my youth
Remember... child!
Here mother is snowy water,
Having given birth, will wash the daughter,
Howling a tiny storm
Rocking all night
A wild beast wakes up, growling
Near the forest hut,
Yes, a blizzard, furiously knocking
Out the window, like a brownie.
From dense forests, from deserted rivers
Collecting your tribute
Strong native man
With nature in battle
And you?..
May death be destined for me -
I have nothing to regret!..
I'm going! food! I must
Near her husband to die.
Governor
Yes, you will die, but first
Exhaust the one
Whose irrevocably head
She died. For him
Please don't go there!
More bearable alone
Tired of hard work
Come to your prison
Come and lie down on the bare floor
And with stale cracker
Fall asleep ... and a good dream came -
And the prisoner became king!
Flying a dream to relatives, to friends,
Seeing yourself
He wakes up to the daily labors
And cheerful, and quiet in heart,
And with you? .. with you do not know
Happy dreams to him
In himself he will be aware
The reason for your tears.
Oh!.. Keep these words
You are better for others.
All your tortures won't extract
Tears from my eyes!
Leaving home, friends,
beloved father,
Taking a vow in my soul
Fulfill to the end
My duty - I will not bring tears
To the damn prison
I will save pride, pride in him,
I will give him strength!
Contempt for our executioners,
Consciousness of being right
We will be a faithful support.
Governor
Wonderful dreams!
But they will get for five days.
Don't you be sad for a century?
Trust my conscience
You want to live.
Here is stale bread, prison, shame,
Need and eternal oppression,
And there are balls, a brilliant courtyard,
Freedom and honor.
How to know? Maybe God judged...
like another,
The law doesn't take away your rights...
Be silent!.. My God!..
Governor
Yes, I'm being honest
Get back into the light.
Thank you, thank you
For your good advice!
And before there was an earthly paradise,
And now this paradise
With your caring hand
Cleared by Nicholas.
There people rot alive -
walking coffins,
Men are a bunch of Judas,
And women are slaves.
What will I find there? hypocrisy,
desecrated honor,
Cheeky bastard triumph
And petty revenge.
No, in this cut down forest
I won't be lured
Where there were oaks to heaven,
And now the stumps are sticking out!
Return? live among slander
Empty and dark things?..
There is no place, there is no friend
For those who have matured!
No, no, I don't want to see
Selling and stupid
I won't show myself, I'm the executioner
Free and holy.
Forget the one who loved us
Return - everything is forgiven? ..
Governor
But he didn't spare you, did he?
Think child:
Who is sadness? who is love for?
Be quiet, general!
Governor
If not for the valiant blood
Flowed into you - I would be silent.
But if you rush forward,
Not believing in anything
Maybe pride will save you...
You got him
With wealth, with a name, with mind,
With a trusting soul
And he, not thinking about it,
What will become of the wife
Carried away by an empty ghost,
And this is his fate!
And what? .. you run after him,
What a pitiful slave!
No! I'm not a pitiful slave
I am a woman, wife!
Let my fate be bitter
I will be faithful to her!
Oh if he forgot me
For a different woman
I would have enough strength in my soul
Don't be his slave!
But I know: love for the motherland
my rival,
And if it were necessary, again
I would forgive him!
The princess finished ... He was silent
Stubborn old man.
?Well? Command, general,
Prepare my wagon??
Without answering the question
He looked at the floor for a long time,
Then he said thoughtfully:
- See you tomorrow" and left...
Same conversation tomorrow.
Asked and persuaded
But got rebuffed again.
Honored General.
All convictions exhausted
And exhausted,
He is long, important, silent,
Walked around the room
And finally he said: “Be it so!
You will not be saved, alas! ..
But know that by taking this step,
You will lose everything! -
"What else do I have to lose?
Leaping after her husband,
You renounce sign
A must from your rights! -
The old man was effectively silent,
From these terrible words
He was obviously looking for a benefit.
But the answer was this:
?You have a gray head,
And you are still a child!
Our rights seem to you
Rights are no joke.
No! I don't value them
Take them quickly!
Where is the renunciation? I will sign!
And alive - horses! ..?
Governor
Sign this paper!
What are you?.. My God!
After all, it means to become a beggar
And a simple woman!
You will say sorry to everything
What was given to you by your father
What to inherit
Should be to you later!
Property rights, rights
Nobility to lose!
No, you think first -
I will visit you again!
Went away and was gone all day...
When the darkness fell
Princess, weak as a shadow,
I went to him myself.
The general did not accept her:
Sick hard...
Five days while he was ill
Painful past,
And on the sixth he came himself
And coolly said to her:
- I have no right to let you go,
Princess, horses!
You will be led through the stages
With a convoy ... -
My God!
But the months go by
On the road?..
Governor
Yes, in spring
You will come to Nerchinsk if you
The road won't kill you.
Hardly four miles an hour
Chained goes;
In the middle of the day - a halt,
With the sunset of the day - lodging for the night,
And the hurricane found in the stele -
Dive into the snow!
Yes, there are no delays,
Another fell, weakened ...
Not well I understood -
What is your stage?
Governor
Under the guard of the Cossacks
With weapons in hand
We lead thieves by stage
And convicts in chains
They play pranks on the road
Look, they will run away
So they will be tied with a rope
To each other - and lead.
Difficult path! Yes, that's what it is:
Five hundred will go
And to the Nerchinsk mines
And the third will not come!
They're dying like flies along the way
Especially in winter...
And you, princess, should you go like this? ..
Get back home!
Oh no! I was waiting for this...
But you, but you... a villain!...
A whole week has passed...
People don't have hearts!
Why not say it all at once?
I would have gone a long time...
Tell the party to collect -
I'm coming! I don't care!..
No! you will go! .. - exclaimed
Unexpectedly old general,
Close your eyes with your hand. -
How I tormented you... My God!...
(From under the arm of a gray-haired mustache
A tear rolled down.)
Sorry! yes, I tormented you,
But he himself suffered
But I had a strict order
Barriers to put up for you!
And didn't I put them on?
I did everything I could
Before the king my soul
Clean, God be my witness!
Sharp hard breadcrumbs
And life locked up
Shame, horror, labor
milestone path
I tried to scare you.
You were not afraid!
And even though I can't hold on
On the shoulders of the head
I can't, I don't want
To tyrannize more than you...
I'll take you there in three days...
(Opening the door, screams.)
Hey! harness now!.. -
Notes: The poem was written in 1871.
According to the place of copying, with reference to the book, the text has the following differences:
1Instead of Poem stands Poem in two parts
2The line is given as Godforgotten side
3The line is given as They run to the Senate Square
4 The line is given as the Moscow regiment was already standing there
PRINCESS M. N. VOLKONSKAYA
Grandma's Notes
(1826 - 27)
Pranksters grandchildren! Today they
Returned from the walk:
- We, grandmother, are bored! On rainy days
When we sat down in the portrait room
And you started to tell us
It was so much fun!.. Dear,
Tell me something else! .. - In the corners
Have a seat. But I drove them away:
?Have time to listen; my stories
Enough for whole volumes,
But you are still stupid: recognize them,
How will you know life?
I have told you everything that is available to you
According to your childish years:
Go for a walk in the fields, in the meadows!
Come on... enjoy the summer!?
And now, not wanting to remain in debt
At grandchildren, I write notes;
For them I save portraits of people,
who were close to me
I bequeath them an album - and flowers
From the grave of my sister - Muravyova,
Collection of butterflies, flora of Chita
And the views of that harsh country;
I will bequeath them an iron bracelet...
Let them keep it sacred:
Grandfather forged it as a gift to his wife
From my own chain once...
I was born, my dear grandchildren,
Near Kyiv, in a quiet village;
I had a beloved daughter with my family.
Our family was rich and ancient,
But even more my father exalted him:
More enticing than the glory of a hero
Dearer than the motherland - did not know anything
A fighter who did not like peace.
Working miracles, nineteen years old
He was a regimental commander
He obtained courage and laurels of victories
And honors honored by the world.
His military glory began
Persian and Swedish campaign,
But the memory of him inseparably merged
With the great twelfth year:
Here his life was a long battle.
We shared trips with him
And in another month we will not remember the number,
If only they didn't tremble for him.
?Defender of Smolensk? Always ahead
It was a dangerous business...
Wounded near Leipzig, with a bullet in his chest,
He fought again a day later,
So the chronicle of his life says:
Among the generals of Russia,
As long as our fatherland stands,
He will be remembered! Vitii
My father was showered with praise,
Calling him immortal;
Zhukovsky honored him with a loud stanza,
Glorifying Russian leaders:
Under Dashkova's personal courage, the heat
And the sacrifice of a patriotic father
The poet sings.2 Warlike gift
Appearing in battles without counting,
Not by force alone defeated enemies
Your great-grandfather in the gigantic struggle:
0 he was told that he combined
With courage, a military genius.
Concerned about the war, in his family
The father did not interfere in anything,
But he was cool at times; almost a god
He seemed to our mother
And he himself was deeply attached to her.
We loved our father - in the hero.
Having finished the campaigns, in his estate
He is slowly fading away.
We lived in a big suburban house.
Having entrusted the children to an Englishwoman,
The old man was resting.3 I learned everything,
What a rich noblewoman needs.
And after school I ran to the garden
And sang all day carefree
My voice was very good, they say
His father listened willingly;
He brought his notes to an end,
He read newspapers, magazines,
Feasts asked; went to see father
Gray-haired, like him, generals,
And there were endless disputes then;
Meanwhile, the youth danced.
Do you tell the truth? I have always been
At that time, the queen of the ball:
My languid eyes are blue fire,
And black with a blue tint
Big braid and thick blush
On a swarthy, beautiful face,
And my height is high, and my camp is flexible,
And proud tread - captivated
The then beauties: hussars, lancers,
What stood close to the shelves.
But I reluctantly listened to their flattery ...
My father did his best for me.
- Isn't it time to get married? The groom is already there
He fought gloriously near Leipzig,
He was loved by the sovereign, our father,
And gave him the rank of general.
Older than you ... but well done,
Volkonsky! You took him out
At the royal review ... and he visited us,
Everyone staggered around the park with you! -
?Yes I remember! Such a tall general...?
- He is! The old man laughed...
?Father! He didn't talk to me that much!? -
I noticed I blushed...
- You will be happy with him! - well decided
Old man - I did not dare to object ...
Two weeks have passed - and I'm under the crown
Standing with Sergei Volkonsky
I didn't know much about his fiancé,
I didn’t learn much from my husband, -
So little we lived under one roof,
So rarely seen each other!
In distant villages, for winter stay,
His brigade was scattered
Sergey circled her incessantly.
And meanwhile I fell ill;
In Odessa later, on the advice of doctors,
I bathed all summer;
In winter, he came for me there,
I rested with him for a week
At the main apartment ... and again trouble!
One day I fell fast asleep
Suddenly I hear the voice of Sergei (in the night,
It was almost at dawn,
?Get up! find me the keys!
Fire up the fireplace! I jumped...
She looked: he was alarmed and pale.
I fired up the fireplace.
From the boxes my husband demolished papers
To the fireplace - and burned hastily.
Others read fluently, hastily,
Others threw, without reading.
And I helped Sergei, trembling
And pushing them deeper into the fire...
Then he said, "We'll go now"
Gently touching my hair.
Everything was soon laid with us,
And in the morning, without saying goodbye to anyone,
We set off. We rode for three days
Sergey was gloomy, in a hurry,
Drove me to my father's estate
And immediately he said goodbye to me.
Gone!.. What did his pallor mean?
And everything that happened that night?
Why didn't he tell his wife?
Something bad happened!?
For a long time I did not know peace and sleep,
Doubts tormented the soul:
?Gone, left! I'm alone again!
My family consoled me
Father explained his haste
Some random thing:
- Somewhere the emperor himself sent
Him with a secret assignment,
Do not Cry! You shared trips with me
The vicissitudes of military life
You know; he'll be home soon!
Precious pledge under the heart
You wear: now you must beware!
Everything will end well, dear;
Husband's wife spent alone
And he will meet, shaking the child! ..
Alas! His prediction did not come true!
See the poor wife
And with the first-born son, the father had a chance
Not here - not under the native roof!
How dearly my first-born cost me!
I was sick for two months.
Tormented by the body, killed by the soul,
I met my first babysitter.
I asked about my husband. - Haven't been yet! -
?Did you write?? And there aren't even any letters. -
?Where is my father?? — I galloped off to Petersburg. -
?And my brother?? - Went there. -
My husband didn't come, not even a letter,
And brother and father galloped away, -
I told my mother. - I'm going by myself!
Enough, enough we've been waiting!?
And no matter how hard she tried to beg her daughter
Old lady, I made up my mind;
I remember that last night
And everything that happened then
And I clearly realized that with my husband
Something bad is going on...
It was spring, over the floods of the river
I had to carry the turtle.
I arrived a little alive again.
?Where is my husband?? I asked my father.
- Your husband went to fight in Moldova. -
?Doesn't he write?..? looked sadly
And the father came out ... The brother was dissatisfied,
The servant was silent, sighing.
I noticed that they are cheating with me,
Carefully hiding something;
Referring to the fact that I need peace,
Nobody was allowed to see me
Some kind of wall surrounded me
They didn't even give me newspapers!
I remembered: my husband has a lot of relatives,
I write - I beg you to answer.
Weeks go by and not a word from them!
I'm crying, I'm losing my strength...
There is no feeling more painful than a secret thunderstorm.
I swore my father's oath
That I won't shed a single tear
And he and all around were silent!
Loving, my poor father tormented me;
Regretting, doubling grief...
I found out, I found out everything at last! ..
I read in the verdict itself,
That poor Sergei was a conspirator:
They stood guard
Preparing troops to overthrow the authorities.
He was also blamed
What is he... My head is spinning...
I didn't want to believe my eyes...
?Really?..? - the words did not fit in my mind:
Sergey - and a dishonorable thing!
I remember a hundred times I read the sentence,
Delving into the fatal words:
She ran to her father, - a conversation with her father
Reassured me, folks!
Like a heavy stone fell from my soul.
In one I blamed Sergei:
Why didn't he tell his wife?
Thinking, and then I forgave:
?How could he talk? I was young
When he broke up with me
I carried my son under my heart then:
He was afraid for mother and child! -
So I thought. - Let the trouble be great,
I have not lost everything in the world.
Siberia is so terrible, Siberia is far away,
But people live in Siberia too!..?
All night I burned, dreaming about
How I will cherish Sergei.
In the morning a deep, fastening sleep
She fell asleep and got up more cheerfully.
My health improved soon
I saw my friends
I found my sister - I asked her
And learned a lot of bitter!
Unhappy people! .. "All the time Sergey
(Sister said) contained
In prison; I didn't see my family or friends...
Just saw him yesterday
Father. You can also see him:
When the verdict was read
Dressed them in rags, took off their crosses,
But they were given the right to meet! .. "
I missed some details...
Leaving fatal traces
To this day they cry out for vengeance...
Don't know them better folks.
I went to the fortress to my husband and sister.
We first came to the "general",
Then an elderly general brought us
In a vast dark room.
?Wait, princess! we will now!?
Bowing politely to us,
He left. I didn't take my eyes off the door.
Minutes seemed like hours.
Steps gradually fell silent in the distance,
I followed them with my mind.
It seemed to me: they brought a bunch of keys,
And the rusty door creaked.
In a gloomy closet with an iron window
The exhausted prisoner languished.
?The wife came to you!..? pale face,
He trembled all over, brightened up:
?Wife!..? He quickly ran down the corridor,
Do not dare to trust the rumor ...
Here he is!? the general said loudly.
And I saw Sergei...
Suddenly, a thunderstorm swept over him:
Wrinkles appeared on the forehead
His face was deathly pale, his eyes
They didn't glow so brightly
But there was more in them than in the old days,
That quiet, familiar sadness;
For a minute they looked inquisitively
And suddenly they shone with joy,
He seemed to look into my soul...
I bitterly, crouching against his chest,
Sobbed ... He hugged me and whispered:
- There are strangers here. -
Then he said that it was good for him
Learn the virtue of humility
Which, however, easily endures prison,
And a few words of encouragement
He added ... He walked importantly around the room
Witness: We were embarrassed...
Sergei showed his clothes:
- Congratulate me, Masha, with a new thing, -
And quietly added: - Understand and forgive, -
Eyes sparkled with tears
But then the spy managed to come up,
He bowed his head low.
I said loudly: "Yes, I did not expect
Find you in these clothes."
And quietly whispered: "I understand everything.
I love you more than ever..."
- What to do? And I will live in hard labor
(Until I get bored with life). -
“You are alive, you are healthy, so why grieve?
(After all, hard labor will not separate us?)?
So that's what you are! Sergei said
His face was funny...
He took out a handkerchief, put it on the window,
And I put mine next to me
Then, parting, Sergeyev's scarf
I took it - my husband stayed ...
Us after a year of separation for an hour
Goodbye seemed short
But what was there to do! Our deadline has passed -
Others would have to wait...
The general put me in the carriage,
Happy to stay...
I found great joy in a scarf:
Kissing him, I saw
I have a few words on one corner;
Here's what I read, trembling:
?My friend, you are free. Understand - do not blame!
Mentally I am cheerful and - I wish
See my wife the same. Goodbye!
I send a bow to the little one ...?
There was a big relative in Petersburg
Husband; know everything - yes what!
I went to them, worried for three days,
Begging to save Sergei.
Father said: "What are you suffering, daughter"
I tried everything - it's useless!?
It's true they tried to help
Praying the emperor tearfully,
But the requests did not reach his heart ...
I also met my husband
And the time has come: he was taken away! ..
As soon as I was left alone
I immediately heard in my heart
What do I need to hurry,
My parents' house seemed stuffy to me,
And I began to ask my husband.
Now I'll tell you in detail, friends,
My fatal victory
All amicably and menacingly rebelled the family,
When I said: "I'm going!"
I don't know how I managed to resist
What have I suffered ... God! ..
A mother was called from near Kyiv,
And the brothers came too:
My father ordered me to "reason".
They persuaded, asked,
But the Lord himself supported my will,
Their words did not break her!
And I had to cry a lot and bitterly ...
When we got together for dinner,
My father casually threw a question to me:
- What did you decide? — "I'm going!"
The father was silent... the family was silent...
I cried bitterly in the evening
Shaking the baby, I thought...
Suddenly my father comes in - I shuddered ...
I was waiting for a thunderstorm, but, sad and quiet,
He said cordially and meekly:
- Why do you offend blood relatives?
What will happen to the poor orphan?
What will happen to you, my dove?
There is no need for female power!
Your great sacrifice is in vain,
You will find only a grave there! -
And he waited for an answer and caught my eye,
Caressing and kissing me...
- It's my own fault! I ruined you! -
He exclaimed suddenly, indignantly. -
Where was my mind? Where were the eyes!
Our entire army already knew ... -
And he tore his gray hair:
- Sorry! don't execute me, Masha!
Stay! .. - And again he prayed fervently ...
God knows how I survived!
Leaning her head on his shoulder,
?I'll go!? I quietly said...
Let's see! .. - And suddenly the old man straightened up,
His eyes sparkled with anger.
- One repeats your stupid language:
"I'll go!" Isn't it time to say,
Where and why" You think first!
You don't know what you're talking about!
Can your head think?
Do you think you are enemies?
Both mother and father? Or are they stupid...
Why are you arguing with them as with equals?
Look deeper into your heart,
Look forward coolly
Think!.. I'll see you tomorrow... -
He left, threatening and angry,
And I, a little alive, before the icon of the saint
Fell - in the anguish of the soul ...
Think! .. - I did not sleep the whole night,
I prayed and cried a lot.
I called the mother of God for help,
Asked God for advice
I learned to think: my father ordered
To think... not an easy thing!
How long has he thought for us - and decided
And our life flew peacefully?
I studied a lot; in three languages
Read. I was noticeable
In front drawing rooms, at social balls,
Skillfully dancing, playing;
I could talk about almost everything
I knew music, I sang
I even rode very well,
But she couldn't think at all.
I'm only in my last, twentieth year
I learned that life is not a toy.
Yes, in childhood, it happened, the heart shuddered,
How suddenly a cannon bursts.
Life was good and free; father
He did not speak strictly to me;
Eighteen years old I went down the aisle
I didn't think much either...
Lately my head
She worked hard, burned;
I was tormented by the unknown at first.
When I found out the trouble
Sergei stood before me without change,
Prison exhausted, pale,
And many previously unknown passions
Sowed in my poor soul.
I have experienced everything, and most of all
A cruel feeling of powerlessness.
I am heaven and strong people for it
Prayed - in vain efforts!
And anger burned my sick soul,
And I worried uncomfortably
Torn, cursed ... but there was no strength,
No time to think calmly.
Now I have to think,
My father likes it that way.
May my will always be the same
Let every thought be fruitless,
I honestly obey my father's order
Decided, my dear.
The old man said: - You think about us,
We are not strangers to you:
And mother, and father, and child, finally -
You recklessly throw everyone
For what? - "I'm doing my duty, father!"
What are you condemning yourself for?
For flour? “I won’t suffer there!
A terrible torment awaits me here.
Yes, if I stay, obedient to you,
Separation hurts me.
Knowing no peace, neither at night nor during the day,
Weeping over the poor orphan,
I will always think about my husband
Yes, hear his meek reproach.
Wherever I go - on the faces of people
I'll read my verdict:
In their whisper - the story of my betrayal,
In a smile reproach I guess:
That my place is not at a magnificent ball,
And in the distant desert gloomy,
Where is the prisoner tired in the prison corner
Tormented by a fierce thought,
Alone... without support... Hurry to him!
There, I can breathe freely.
Shared joy with him, shared prison
I have to... So the sky pleases!..
Sorry folks! I have a heart for a long time
My suggested solution.
And I firmly believe: it is from God!
And in you says - regret.
Yes, if I have to decide the choice
Between husband and son - no more,
I go where I'm needed the most
I'm going to the one who is in captivity!
I will leave my son in my own family,
He will soon forget me.
Let grandfather be a father to the little one,
His sister will be his mother.
He's still so small! And when he grows up
And learn a terrible secret
I believe he will understand his mother's feeling
And in his heart he will justify it!
But if I stay with him... and then
He learns the secret and asks:
"Why didn't you follow your poor father."
And the word of reproach will throw me "
Oh, it's better for me to lie alive in the grave,
How to deprive a husband of consolation
And in the future, the son will bring contempt ...
No no! I don't want contempt!
And it can happen - I'm afraid to think! -
I will forget my first husband
I will obey the conditions of the new family
And I will not be a mother to my son,
And the fierce stepmother? .. I burn with shame ...
Forgive me, poor exile!
Forget you! Never! never!
You are the only chosen one of the heart ...
Father! you don't know how dear he is to me!
You don't know him! At first,
In a brilliant outfit, on a proud horse,
I saw him before the regiment;
About the exploits of his fighting life
Comrades' stories
I listened eagerly - and with all my heart
I fell in love with the hero...
Later, I fell in love with my father in him.
Baby born by me.
The separation dragged on without end.
He stood firm in the storm...
Do you know where we met again -
Fate did its will! -
Last, best heart love
I gave it to him in prison!
In vain ink his slander,
He was more perfect than before
And I loved him like Christ...
In my prison clothes
Now he stands in front of me,
Shining with meek majesty.
Crown of thorns above his head
In the eyes - unearthly love ...
My father! I have to see him...
I will die, longing for my husband ...
You, serving your duty, did not spare anything,
And you taught us the same...
The hero who raised his sons
There, where the battle is more deadly, -
I do not believe that my poor daughter
You yourself did not approve of the decision!?
That's what I thought in the long night
And so I spoke with my father ...
He said softly: "Crazy daughter!" -
And went out; were silent dejectedly
And brothers and mother ... I left at last ...
Difficult days dragged on:
Like a cloud, a disgruntled father walked,
The other household members pouted.
No one wanted to help with advice
No matter; but I didn't sleep
Again I spent a sleepless night
Wrote a letter to the sovereign
(At that time, word of mouth began to spread,
What if to return Trubetskaya
The emperor ordered from the road. experience
I feared such a fate
But the rumor was wrong.) I took the letter
My sister, Katya Orlova.
The king himself answered me ... Thank you, I found
In response, I have a good word!
He was elegant and sweet (Nikolai
He wrote in French.) At first
The sovereign said how terrible that land is,
Where did I want to go?
How rude people are there, how hard life is,
As my age is fragile and tender;
Then he hinted (I did not suddenly understand)
That the return is hopeless;
And then - deigned to honor with praise
My resolve, regretting
That, obedient to duty, could not spare
A criminal husband... Not daring
Resist feelings so high
He gave his permission;
But I would rather wish that with my son
I stayed at home...
excitement
I was overwhelmed. "I'm going!" For a long time
So joyfully the heart did not beat ...
?I'm going! I'm going! Now it's decided!..?
I cried, prayed fervently...
In three days I gathered on my distant journey,
I pledged everything of value
A reliable fur coat, stocked up with linen,
I bought a simple kibitka.
Relatives looked at my fees,
Mysteriously somehow sighing;
None of the family believed the departure...
I spent the last night
With baby. Bending over my son
The smile of a little native
I tried to remember; I played with him
The seal of the fatal letter.
She played and thought: "My poor son!
You don't know what you're playing!
Here is your fate: you will wake up alone,
Unhappy! You will lose your mother!"
And in grief, falling on his little hands
Face, I whispered, sobbing:
I'm sorry that you are for your father,
My poor, should I leave...?
And he smiled; he did not think to sleep,
Admiring the beautiful package;
This big and red seal
He was amused...
With the dawn
Calmly and soundly the child fell asleep,
And his cheeks flushed.
Without taking your eyes off your beloved face,
Praying at his cradle
I saw the morning...
I immediately got together.
I conjured my sister again
To be a mother to a son... Sister vowed...
The kibitka was already ready.
My relatives were sternly silent,
The farewell was silent.
I thought: "I died for the family,
Everything is cute, everything is expensive
I'm losing ... there is no count of sad losses! .. "
The mother sat quietly
It seemed, not believing even now,
So that my daughter dares to leave,
And everyone looked at his father with a question.
He sat at a distance dejectedly,
He did not say a word, did not raise his face, -
It was pale and gloomy.
The last things were demolished in the kibitka,
I cried, losing my courage,
The minutes ticked by painfully slowly.
I finally hugged my sister
And mother hugged me. "Well, God bless you!" -
I said kissing brothers.
Imitating their father, they were silent ...
The old man got up, indignant,
On compressed lips, on forehead wrinkles
There were ominous shadows...
I silently handed him an image
And she knelt down before him.
?I'm going! even a word, even a word, father!
Forgive your daughter, for God's sake! ..?
The old man looked at me at last
Thoughtfully, intently, strictly
And, raising his hands with a threat above me,
He said a little audibly (I was trembling):
- Look! come back home in a year
Not that - damn it! .. -
I fell...
Enough, enough hugs and tears!?
I sat down - and the troika rushed off.
?Farewell, dear!? In December frost
I parted from my father's house,
And raced without rest for more than three days;
I was fascinated by the speed
She was the best doctor for me...
I soon rode to Moscow,
To sister Zinaida.4 Sweet and smart
There was a young princess.
How did you know music? How she sang!
Art was sacred to her.
She left us a book of short stories,5
Filled with tender grace,
The poet Venevitinov sang stanzas to her,
Hopelessly in love with her;
Zinaida lived in Italy for a year
And to us - according to the poet -
?The color of the southern sky in the eyes brought?.6
Queen of the Moscow world,
She did not shy away from artists - life
They were with Zina in the living room;
They respected and loved her
And the North was called Korinna ...
We cried. She liked
My resolve is fatal:
?Be strong, my poor! be fun!
You have become so dark.
How can I drive these dark clouds away?
How can we say goodbye to you?
And that's what! go to bed until evening,
And in the evening I will arrange a feast.
Don't be afraid! everything will be to your taste,
My friends are not rake,
We will sing your favorite songs
Let's play our favorite pieces...?
And in the evening the news that I arrived,
In Moscow, many already knew.
At that time, our unfortunate husbands
Moscow's attention was occupied by:
As soon as the decision of the court was announced,
Everyone was embarrassed and terrified
In the salons of Moscow repeated then
One Rostopchin joke:
“In Europe, a shoemaker to become a gentleman,
Rebels, of course!
We made a revolution to know:
Did you want to be a shoemaker? ..?
And I became the "heroine of the day."
Not only artists, poets -
All our noble relatives moved;
Ceremonial, carriage train
thundered; powdering your wigs
Potemkin equal in years,
The old aces-old men appeared
With excellent courteous regards;
Old women of state ladies of the former court
They embraced me:
? What heroism! .. What time! ..? -
And they shook their heads to the beat.
Well, in a word, what was more visible in Moscow,
What was passing by in her,
In the evening everyone came to my Zina:
There were many artists here.
I heard Italian singers here,
Who were then famous
My father's colleagues, friends
Here they were, sadly killed.
There were relatives of those who went there,
Where was I in a hurry
A group of writers, beloved then,
Amicably said goodbye to me:
There were Odoevsky, Vyazemsky; was
The poet is inspirational and sweet,
Admirer of the cousin who died early,
Untimely taken by the grave.
And Pushkin was here... I recognized him...
He was a friend of our childhood
In Yurzuf7 he lived with my father.
At that time, leprosy and coquetry
We laughed, we chatted, we ran with him,
They threw flowers at each other.
Our whole family went to the Crimea,
And Pushkin went with us.
We were having fun. Here at last
And the mountains, and the Black Sea!
Father ordered the crews to stand,
We were walking around in the open.
Then I was already sixteen years old.
Flexible, tall beyond her years,
Leaving my family, I shoot ahead
Rushed off with a curly-haired poet;
Without a hat, with a loose long braid,
Burning in the midday sun,
I flew to the sea - and was in front of me
View of the southern coast of Crimea!
I looked around with joyful eyes,
I jumped, played with the sea;
When the tide was gone, I ran
I ran to the water,
When the tide returned again
And the waves were coming up
I was in a hurry to run away from them,
And the waves overtook me! ..
And Pushkin looked ... and laughed that I
Got my boots wet.
?Shut up! my governess is coming!? -
I said strictly ... (I hid
That my feet got wet ...) Then I read
There are wonderful lines in Onegin.8
I broke out all over - I was happy ...
Now I'm old, so far away
Those red days! I won't hide
What Pushkin at that time seemed
In love with me... but in truth,
Who didn't he fall in love with?
But I don't think he loved anyone
Then, except for the Muse: hardly
No more love occupied him
Her worries and sorrows...
Yurzuf is picturesque: in luxurious gardens
Its valleys sank,
The sea is at his feet, Ayudag is far away...
Tatar huts clung
To the foot of the rocks; grapes ran out
On the steep vine weighed down,
And the poplar stood motionless in places
Green and slender column.
We occupied a house under an overhanging rock,
The poet took refuge upstairs,
He told us that he was pleased with fate,
That I fell in love with the sea and mountains.
His walks continued day by day
And they were always alone
He often wandered by the sea at night.
He took English lessons
At Lena, my sister: Byron then
He was extremely interested.
It happened to my sister sometimes to translate
Anything from Byron is secret;
She read her attempts to me,
And after tore and threw,
But someone from the family told Pushkin,
That Lena composed poems:
The poet picked up the shreds under the window
And brought the whole thing to the stage.
Praising translations, he long afterwards
He embarrassed the unfortunate Lena ...
When he finished, he went down
And he shared his leisure with us;
At the very terrace stood a cypress,
The poet called him a friend,
Under him, the dawn often caught him,
He left with him, saying goodbye ...
And they told me that Pushkin's trail
In the native legend remained:
A nightingale flew to the poet at night,
As the moon floated into the sky
And together with the poet he sang - and, to the singers
Listening, nature fell silent!
Then the nightingale, - the people narrate, -
Flew here every summer
And whistles, and cries, and as if calling
To the forgotten friend of the poet!
But the poet died - he stopped flying
Feathered singer... Full of grief,
Since then, the cypress has been an orphan,
Listening only to the murmur of the sea...?
But Pushkin glorified him for a long time:
Tourists visit him
They sit down under it and as a keepsake from it
Fragrant branches are plucked ...
Our meeting was sad. Poet
He was crushed by true grief.
He remembered the games of childish years
In the distant Yurzuf, over the sea.
Leaving the usual mocking tone,
With love, with endless longing,
With the participation of his brother, he admonished
A friend of that carefree life!
He walked around the room with me for a long time,
I'm preoccupied with my fate
I remember, relatives, what he said,
Yes, I can not convey this:
?Go, go! You are strong in spirit
You are rich in bold patience,
May your fateful path be peacefully accomplished,
Don't be put off by loss!
Believe me, such spiritual purity
This hateful world is not worth it!
Blessed is he who changes his bustle
To the feat of selfless love!
What is light? disgusting masquerade!
In it, the heart is stale and dormant,
It reigns eternal, calculated coldness
And embraces the ardent truth...
Enmity will be pacified by the influence of years,
Before time, the barrier will collapse,
And you will return the penates of the fathers
And the canopy of the home garden!
Healingly pour into a tired chest
Valleys of hereditary sweetness,
You proudly look back on the path you have traveled
And you will know joy again.
Yes I believe you! you will not endure grief for long,
The wrath of the king will not be eternal...
But if you have to die in the steppe,
They will remember you with a heartfelt word:
The image of a brave wife is captivating,
Showing spiritual strength
And in the snowy deserts of a harsh country
Hiding early in the grave!
Die, but your suffering is the story
Understood by living hearts,
And after midnight your great-grandchildren about you
Conversations won't end with friends.
They will show them, sighing from the heart,
Your unforgettable features
And in memory of the great-grandmother, who died in the wilderness,
Full bowls will dry up! ..
Let the marble of the graves be more durable,
Than a wooden cross in the desert
But the world of Dolgoruky has not yet forgotten
And Biron is not in sight.
But what am I?.. God grant you health and strength!
And there you can see:
The tsar, Pugacheva, "instructed me to write,
The scarecrow torments me godlessly,
I want to deal with him for glory,
I will have to be in the Urals.
I'll go in the spring, hurry up to capture,
What good will gather there,
Yes, I’ll wave to you, having moved the Urals ... "
The poet wrote "Pugachev"
But it did not hit our distant snows.
How could he keep that word?
I listened to music, full of sadness,
I eagerly listened to the singing;
I didn’t sing myself - I was sick,
I only begged others:
?Think: I'm leaving with the dawn...
Oh, sing, sing! play!..
I won't hear this kind of music
Not a song ... Let me hear enough!?
And wonderful sounds flowed endlessly!
Solemn songs of farewell
The evening is over - I do not remember the face
No sadness, no sad thoughts!
Features of motionless, severe old women
Lost the haughty cold,
And the gaze that seemed to go out forever,
Glowing with a touched tear ...
Artists tried to outdo themselves
I don't know better songs
That song-prayer for a good journey,
That blessing song...
0, how inspired they played!
How they sang!.. and cried themselves...
And everyone said to me: "God save you!", -
Saying goodbye to me with tears ...
Frosty. The road is white and smooth
Not a cloud in the sky...
Frozen mustache, beard of the coachman,
He trembles in his hoodie.
His back, shoulders and hat in the snow,
He wheezes, urging horses,
And his horses cough on the run,
Breathing deeply and hard...
Ordinary views: former beauty
Desert Russian region,
Scaffolding murmurs gloomily,
Giant shadows casting;
The plains are covered with a diamond carpet,
Trees covered in snow
A landowner's house flashed on a hillock,
Church heads shone...
Ordinary meetings: convoy without end,
A crowd of praying old women,
Thundering mail, the figure of a merchant
On a pile of feather beds and pillows;
Treasury truck! with a dozen carts:
Shotguns and satchels are piled.
Soldiers! Liquid, beardless people:
Must be more recruits;
Sons are escorted by male fathers
Yes mothers, sisters and wives:
? they take the hearts to the shelves!? -
Bitter groans...
Raising his fists over the coachman's back,
The courier rushes furiously.
On the very road, having caught up with a hare,
Mustachioed landlord huntsman
Waved across the moat on a nimble horse,
It beats off the prey from the dogs.
With all his retinue stands aside
The landowner calls the greyhounds...
Ordinary scenes: at hell stations -
They fight, they argue, they fight.
?Well, touch!? From the windows the guys look
The priests at the taverns are fighting;
At the forge, a horse beats in the machine,
It turns out, all covered with soot
Blacksmith with a red-hot horseshoe in his hand:
?Hey, boy, hold her hooves!..?
In Kazan, I made the first halt,
She fell asleep on the hard sofa;
From the windows of the hotel I saw the ball
And, I confess, I took a deep breath!
I remembered: an hour or two with a little
It remains until the new year.
?Happy people! how fun they are!
They have peace and freedom,
They dance, laugh! .. but I don’t know
Fun ... I'm going to flour! ..?
You shouldn't have such thoughts.
Yes, youth, youth, grandchildren!
Here again Trubetskoy frightened me,
As if she was turned back:
?But I'm not afraid - let me be with you!?
The clock has already struck ten
It's time! I dressed up. "Is the coachman ready"?
- Princess, you'd better wait.
Dawn, said the old caretaker. -
The blizzard has begun to rise! -
?Oh! whether it is necessary to try again!
I'll go. Hurry, for God's sake!
The bell is ringing, you can't see it,
What is further, the road is worse,
Push the beginning strongly to the sides,
Somehow we go in ridges,
I don't even see the driver's back:
The hillock swept between us.
My wagon almost fell,
The trio shied away and stood.
My coachman groaned: "I reported:
Would you wait! the road is gone!
I sent a road to look for a coachman,
She closed the kibitka with matting,
I thought: right, midnight is close,
Suppressed the clock spring:
Twelve hit! The year is over
And a new one has been born!
Throwing back the mat, I look ahead -
The blizzard is still spinning.
What does she care about our sorrows,
Until our new year?
And I'm indifferent to your anxiety
And to your moans, bad weather!
I have my own fatal longing,
And with her I fight alone ...
I congratulated my coachman.
“Wintering is not far here, -
He said, - we will wait for the dawn in it!?
We drove up, woke up
Some wretched forest watchmen,
Their smoky oven was lit.
The inhabitant of the forest told the horrors,
Yes, I forgot his story...
We warmed up with tea. Time to rest!
The blizzard howled more and more terribly.
The forester crossed himself, turned off the night light
And with the help of stepson Fedya
He rolled two huge stones to the doors.
?For what?? - The bears got it! -
Then he lay down on the bare floor,
Everything soon fell asleep in the gatehouse,
I thought, thought... lying in the corner
On a frozen and hard matting ...
At first, the dreams were funny:
I remembered our holidays
The lights of the burning hall, flowers,
Gifts, congratulations bowls,
And noisy speeches, and caresses ... all around
Everything sweet, everything dear -
But where is Sergei? .. And, thinking about him,
I forgot everything else!
I quickly jumped up as soon as the coachman
Chilled, he knocked on the window.
A little light on the road led us to the forester,
But he refused to accept the money.
?Don't, dear! God protect you
Are the roads dangerous?
Frosts grew stronger along the way
And they soon became terrible.
I completely closed my wagon -
And dark, and terrible boredom.
What to do? I remember poems, I sing
Someday the pain will end!
Let the heart cry, let the wind roar
And my path is covered by blizzards,
And yet I'm moving forward!
So I went for three weeks...
One day, hearing some sodom,
I opened my mat,
I looked: we are going through a vast village,
My eyes were blinded immediately.
Bonfires blazed along my path ...
There were peasants, peasant women,
Soldiers - and a whole herd of horses ...
“Here is the station: waiting for silver coins, * -
My coachman said. We will see her
She, tea, is not far...?
Siberia sent its wealth,
I was glad for this meeting.
?I'll wait for the silver! maybe something
About my husband, I learn about ours.
With her an officer, from Nerchinsk their way ...?
I'm sitting in the tavern, waiting...
A young officer entered; he smoked
He didn't nod his head at me.
He somehow haughtily looked and walked,
And so I said sadly:
?You have seen, right...do you know
Those... victims of the December case...
Are they healthy? What is it like for them there?
I would like to know about my husband...?
He cheekily turned his face to me -
The features were evil and harsh -
And, releasing a ring of smoke from his mouth,
He said: - Undoubtedly healthy,
But I don't know them - and I don't want to know,
I never saw convicts! .. -
How painful it was for me, dear! I'm silent...
Unhappy! offended me!
I just gave a disdainful look.
With dignity, the young man left ...
A soldier was warming himself by the stove,
He heard my curse
And a kind word - not barbaric laughter -
Found in my soldier's heart:
- Healthy! he said, "I saw them all,
They live in the Blagodatsky mine! .. -
But then the haughty hero returned,
I hurriedly left for the tent.
Thanks soldier! thank you dear!
No wonder I endured torture!
In the morning I look at the white steppes,
The bell ringing was heard
I quietly enter the wretched church,
Mixed with the devout crowd.
After listening to mass, she approached the priest,
I asked for a prayer service...
Everything was calm - the crowd did not leave ...
My grief has completely broken me!
Why are we offended so much, Christ?
Why are they covered with reproach?
And rivers of long-accumulated tears
Fell on hard slabs!
It seemed that the people shared my sadness,
Praying silently and sternly,
And the voice of the priest sounded sorrowful,
Asking for the exiles of god...
Poor, lost temple in the desert!
I was not ashamed to cry in it,
The lot of the sufferers praying there
A dead soul is not offended ...
(Father John, that a prayer service served
And prayed so earnestly
Then in the casemate he was a priest
And he became related with us in soul.)
And at night the coachman could not restrain the horses,
The mountain was terribly steep
And I flew with my wagon
From the high peak of Altai!
In Irkutsk they did the same to me,
What was there to torment Trubetskaya ...
Baikal. Crossing - and such a cold,
That the tears in my eyes froze.
Then I parted with my wagon
(The toboggan run is gone.)
I felt sorry for her: I cried in her
And I thought, I thought a lot!
Road without snow - in a cart! First
The cart occupied me
But soon after, neither alive nor dead,
I recognized the charm of the cart.
I also learned hunger along the way,
Unfortunately, they didn't tell me
That there's nothing to be found here
The Buryats kept their mail here.
They dry beef in the sun
Yes, they warm themselves with brick tea,
And the one with lard! Lord save
Try you, unaccustomed!
But near Nerchinsk they gave me a ball:
Some kind of merchant
In Irkutsk, he noticed me, overtook
And in honor of my rich holiday
Arranged ... Thank you! I was glad
And delicious dumplings and a bath ...
And the holiday, like the dead, slept all over
In the living room, on the sofa...
I didn't know what lay ahead of me!
I galloped to Nerchinsk in the morning,
I can't believe my eyes - Trubetskaya is coming!
?Caught up with you, I caught up!?
- They are in Blagodatsk! - I rushed to her
Happy tears shed...
Only twelve miles away is my Sergey,
And Katya Trubetskaya with me!
Who knew loneliness on a long journey,
Whose companions are grief and blizzard,
To whom it is given by providence to gain
In the desert, an unexpected friend,
He will understand our mutual joy ...
- I'm tired, I'm tired, Masha!
?Don't cry, my poor Katya! will save
Our friendship and our youth!
We are one lot inextricably linked,
Fate has deceived us
And the same stream swept away your happiness,
In which my drowned.
Let's go hand in hand the hard way
As they walked through a green meadow.
And both worthy of our cross will bear
And we will be strong with each other.
What have we lost? think sister!
Vanity toys... Not much!
Now we have a good road ahead of us,
The road of the chosen ones of God!
We will find humiliated, mournful husbands,
But we will be their consolation,
We will soften the executioners with our meekness,
We overcome suffering with patience.
Support for the dying, the weak, the sick
We'll be in a hateful prison
And we won't lay down our hands until we've done it
A vow of unselfish love!
Our sacrifice is pure - we give everything
Our chosen ones and God.
And I believe: we will pass unscathed
All our difficult road...?
Nature is tired of fighting with itself -
The day is clear, frosty and quiet.
The snows near Nerchinsk appeared again,
We rode famously in a sleigh ...
The Russian coachman told about the exiles
(He even knew their last names):
- On these horses I drove them to the mine,
Yes, only in a different crew.
It must have been an easy road for them:
They joked, made each other laugh;
For breakfast, my mother baked a cheesecake for me,
So I gave them a cheesecake,
Two kopecks were given - I did not want to take:
"Take it, boy, it will come in handy..." -
Chatting, he quickly flew to the village:
- Well, ladies! where to stand"
"Take us to the chief directly to the jail."
- Hey guys, don't be offended! -
The chief was obese and, it seems, strict,
He asked: what kind are we?
?In Irkutsk they read the instructions to us
And they promised to send to Nerchinsk...?
- Stuck, stuck, my dear, there! -
?Here's a copy, they gave it to us...?
- What's the copy? you will get into trouble with her! -
?Here is the royal permission for you!?
The stubborn eccentric did not know French,
He did not believe us - laughter and torment!
?Do you see the king's signature: Nicholas??
He doesn't care about the signature
Give him paper from Nerchinsk!
I wanted to follow her
But he announced that he would go himself
And by the morning he will get the paper.
? Is it true? ..? - Honestly! And you
It will be better to sleep! .. -
And we got to some hut,
Dreaming about tomorrow morning
With a window of mica, low, without a pipe,
Our house was like this
That I touched the wall with my head,
And her feet rested against the door;
But these little things were funny to us,
That's not what happened to us.
We are together! Now I would easily demolish
And the hardest pain...
I woke up early, and Katya was sleeping.
Went through the village out of boredom:
The huts are the same as ours, in number
Up to a hundred, sticking out in the ravine,
And here is the brick house with bars!
There were sentries with him.
?Are there criminals here?? - Here, let's go. -
?Where?? - Get to work, let's go! -
Some kids took me...
We all ran - unbearably
I wanted to see my husband soon;
He's close! He walked here recently!
?Do you see them?? I asked the children.
- Yes, we see! They sing well!
There's the door... look! Let's go now
Farewell! .. - The guys ran away ...
And as if under the ground leading door
I saw a soldier too.
The sentry looked sternly, - baldly
In his hand, a saber flashed.
Not gold, grandchildren, and it helped here,
Though I offered gold!
Perhaps you would like to read further
Yes, the word is asking from the chest!
Let's slow down a bit. I want to say
Thank you Russian people!
On the road, in exile, wherever I have been,
All the hard hard labor time,
People! I carried with you more cheerfully
My unbearable burden.
May many sorrows fall on your part,
You share other people's sorrows
And where my tears are ready to fall
Yours have already fallen there! ..
You love the unfortunate, Russian people!
Suffering has made us...
“The law itself will not save you in hard labor!?” -
At home they told me;
But I met good people there too,
At the last step of the fall,
They were able to express to us in their own way
Criminals tribute;
Me and my inseparable Katya
Were greeted with a smile:
?You are our angels!? For our husbands
They did the lessons.
More than once he furtively gave me from the floor
Potato kolodnik branded:
?Eat! hot, now from the ashes!?
The baked potato was good
But the chest is now aching with longing,
When I remember him...
Accept my low bow, poor people!
Thank you all send!
Thank you! .. Considered their work for nothing
For us, these people are simple,
But no one poured bitterness into the cup,
Nobody - from the people, relatives! ..
The sentry yielded to my sobs.
How I asked God!
A lamp (kind of a torch) he lit,
I entered a basement
And for a long time descended lower and lower; Then
I went down a deaf corridor,
He walked in ledges: it was dark in him
And stuffy; where is the mold pattern
lay; where the water flowed quietly
And flowed down in puddles.
I heard a rustle; land sometimes
It fell in lumps from the walls;
I saw terrible holes in the walls;
It seemed like the same roads
They started from them. I forgot my fear
My feet carried me!
And suddenly I heard shouts: "Where,
Where do you want to kill yourself?
Ladies are not allowed to go there!
Come back soon! Wait!?
My trouble! apparently, the attendant came
(His sentry was so afraid)
He shouted so menacingly, his voice was so angry,
The noise of rapid footsteps was approaching...
What to do? I blew out the torch. Forward
In the dark, she ran at random ...
The Lord, if He wants, will lead everywhere!
I don't know how I didn't fall
How did I not leave my head there!
Fate took care of me. past
Terrible crevasses, dips and pits
God brought me out unscathed:
I soon saw the light ahead
There was an asterisk shining...
And a joyful cry flew out of his chest:
?Fire!? I have crossed over...
I threw off my fur coat ... I run into the fire,
How God saved my soul!
Frightened horse caught in a quagmire
So torn, seeing the land ...
And it became, relatives, brighter and brighter!
I saw the elevation
Some kind of square... and shadows on it...
Chu... hammer! work, move...
There are people! Will they be the only ones to see?
The figures became clearer...
Closer, the lights flickered stronger.
They must have seen me...
And someone standing on the very edge
He exclaimed: "Is not an angel of God"
Look, look!? Because we are not in paradise.
Cursed mine similar
To hell! others said, laughing,
And quickly ran out to the edge,
And I moved quickly. marveling,
Motionless they waited.
Volkonskaya!? Trubetskoy suddenly shouted
(I recognized the voice). lowered
me a ladder; I went up like an arrow!
All the people I knew were:
Sergei Trubetskoy, Artamon Muravyov,
Borisov, Prince Obolensky...
A stream of heartfelt, enthusiastic words,
Praise my feminine insolence
I was showered; tears flowed
By their faces, full of sympathy...
But where is my Sergei? "Follow him already,
Wouldn't die of happiness alone!
Ends the lesson: three pounds of ore
We get for Russia a day,
As you can see, we were not killed by labors!
They were so funny
They joked, but I'm under their cheerfulness
I read a sad story
(The fetters on them were news to me,
I didn't know that they were going to be chained...
The news about Katya, about my dear wife,
I consoled Trubetskoy;
All letters, fortunately, were with me,
Greetings from the native land
I hastened to deliver them. Meanwhile
Downstairs the officer got excited:
?Who took the ladder? Where and why
Has the job supervisor gone?
Madam! Remember my word
You will be killed!.. Hey, stairs, devils!
Live!.. (But no one set her up...)
Kill yourself, kill yourself to death!
Feel free to come down! so what are you?..? But we
Everyone went deep ... From everywhere
The gloomy children of prison ran to us,
Marveling at an unprecedented miracle.
They paved the way for me ahead
They offered their stretchers ...
Underground tools on the way,
We met failures, bumps.
Work was in full swing to the sounds of shackles,
Under the songs - work on the abyss!
Knocked on the elastic chest of the mines
And a spade and an iron hammer.
There, with a burden, a prisoner walked along a log,
I involuntarily shouted: "Hush!"
There a new mine was led into the depths,
There people climbed higher
On shaky props ... What works!
What courage!
Locally mined blocks of ore
And they promised a generous tribute ...
Suddenly someone exclaimed: "He's coming! he's coming!"
Taking in the space with your eyes,
I almost fell, rushing forward, -
The ditch was in front of us.
?Be quiet, be quiet! Is it then
You have flown thousands of miles, -
Trubetskoy said, - so that on the mountain we all
To die in a ditch - at the goal ??
And he held my hand tightly:
?What would happen when you fell??
Sergei was in a hurry, but he walked quietly.
The shackles sounded sad.
Yes, chains! The executioner forgot nothing
(Oh, vengeful coward and tormentor!), -
But he was meek, as he who chose him
Redeemer with his weapon.
They parted before him, keeping silence,
Working people and guards...
And then he saw, he saw me!
And he stretched out his hands to me: "Masha!"
And he became, exhausted as if, far away ...
Two exiles supported him.
Tears flowed down his pale cheeks,
The outstretched hands trembled...
The soul of my sweet voice is the sound
Instantly sent an update
Joy, hope, oblivion of torment,
Oblivion of the father's threat!
And with a cry: "I'm coming!" I was running
Unexpectedly jerking his hand
On a narrow plank over a gaping moat
Towards the calling sound...
?I'm going!..? Send me your kindness
Smiling face drunk...
And I ran up... And my soul
Filled with a sacred feeling.
I am only now, in the fatal mine,
Hearing terrible sounds
Seeing the fetters on my husband,
I fully understood his pain.
And his strength... and willingness to suffer!..**
Involuntarily before him I bowed
On your knees - and before you hug your husband,
She put chains to her lips! ..
And God sent a quiet angel
In the underground mines - in an instant
And the talk, and the roar of work fell silent,
And froze like a movement
Strangers, their own - with tears in their eyes,
Excited, pale, severe -
They stood around. On motionless legs
The fetters did not make a sound,
And in the air the raised hammer froze...
Everything is quiet - no song, no speech ...
It seemed that everyone here shared with us
Both bitterness and happiness of the meeting!
Holy, holy was the silence!
Some high sadness
Some kind of solemn thought is full.
Where did you all disappear to? -
Suddenly, a violent scream came from below.
The overseer of works has appeared.
?Go away! the old man said with tears. -
On purpose, lady, I hid,
Now leave. It's time! They will take away!
Bosses are cool people...?
And as if from heaven I descended into hell ...
And only ... and only, relatives!
In Russian, the officer scolded me,
Downstairs waiting in dismay,
And from above, my husband said in French:
?See you, Masha - in prison! ..?
NOTES TO THE POEM "KN<ЯГИНЯ>M. N. VOLKONSKAIA"***
1 See "Acts of Russian commanders and generals who marked themselves in
memorable war in France, in 1812-1815". St. Petersburg. 1822.
Part 3, pp. 30-64. Biography of the cavalry general Nikolai Nikolaevich
Raevsky.
2 See op. Zhukovsky, ed. 1849, volume 1, "A singer in the camp of Russian
warriors", p. 280:
Raevsky, the glory of our days,
Praise! in front of the rows
He is the first - chest against swords -
With brave sons...
The fact which is mentioned here is told in Acts as follows, part 3, page 52:
"In the battle of Dashkov, when the brave Russians, from extreme superiority in strength and terrible action
enemy artillery, hesitated somewhat, General Raevsky, knowing how much the commander’s personal example inspires
soldiers subordinate to him, taking by the hands of his two sons, who had not yet reached the age of twenty, rushed with them
forward to one enemy battery, still stubborn to submit to the courage of the heroes, exclaimed: “Forward, guys,
for the king and the fatherland! I and my children, whom I offer as a sacrifice, we will open the way for you! .. "- and what could resist after this
to the efforts and zeal of the troops led by such a commander! The battery was immediately taken."
This fact is also told by Mikhailovsky-Danilevsky (vol. 1, p. 329, ed. 1839), with the difference that, according to the story
Danilevsky, the case did not take place near Dashkova, but near Saltanovka, and in this case the feat is mentioned
a sixteen-year-old junker, the same age as Raevsky, who carried a banner in front of the regiment, when crossing rowing, under
deadly fire, and when the youngest of the Raevskys (Nikolai Nikolayevich) asked him for a banner, under the pretext that he
tired: "Let me carry the banner," the cadet, without giving it away, answered: "I myself know how to die!" The authenticity of all this
General Liprandi also confirms, whose note (? From the diary and memoirs of IP Liprandi?) is placed in
?Archive? Mr. Bartenev (1866, p. 1214).
3 Our poem had already been written when we remembered that General Raevsky and upon returning from the campaign that ended
taking Paris, continued to serve. We did not consider it necessary to change our text, since this circumstance is purely
external; moreover, Raevsky, who commanded a corps located near Kyiv, in old age, indeed, often
lived in a village where, according to Pushkin, who knew N. N. Raevsky well and was a friend with his sons,
He was engaged, among other things, in home medicine and gardening. By the way, we cite Pushkin's testimony about Raevsky
in one of his letters to his brother:
"My friend, I spent the happiest moments in my life among the family of the venerable Raevsky. I loved him
a man of a caring friend, always a sweet, affectionate host. Witness of the Catherine's century, a monument of the 12th year,
a man without prejudices, with a strong character, sensitive, he will involuntarily bind to himself anyone who only
worthy of understanding and appreciating his high qualities."
4 Zinaida Volkovskaya, nee Prince. Beloselskaya, was a relative of our heroine by her husband.
5 Quatre Nouvelles. Par M-me La Princesse Z "en" eide Wolkonsky, n "ee P-sse B" eloselsky. Moscou, dans l"imprimerie d"Auguste
Semen, 1819.
6 See poems by DV Venevitinov, ed. A. Pyatkovsky. St. Petersburg, 1862 (Elegy, p. 96):
You looked at the color of heaven for a long time
And brought the color of heaven in our eyes?
Pushkin also dedicated Z. V<олконс>which poem (1827), beginning with the verse:
The queen of muses and beauty? etc.
7 Yurzuf, a charming corner of the southern coast of Crimea, lies on the eastern
extremity of the southern coast, on the way between Yaila and Yalta. Note here that
in our entire story about Pushkin's stay with the Raevskys in Yurzuf is not fictional
not a single word from us. An anecdote about Pushkin's prank on Elena's translations
Nikolaevna Raevskaya is told in the article by Mr. Bartenev "Pushkin in Southern Russia"
(? Russian archive? 1866, p. 1115). He himself mentions his friend cypress
Pushkin in a famous letter to Delvig: “A cypress grew a stone's throw from the house;
every morning I visited him and became attached to him with a feeling similar to
friendship". The legend that later contacted this friend of Pushkin,
told in "Crimean Letters" by Evgenia Tur ("St. Petersburg Vedomosti"
1854, letter 5th) and repeated in the above-mentioned article by Mr. Bartenev.
I remember the sea before the storm
How I envied the waves
Flying in a friendly succession
fall at her feet with love,
and so on.
("Onegin" by Pushkin)****
1
PRINCESS TRUBETSKAYA
(1826)
PART ONE
Calm, durable and light
A wonderfully well-coordinated carriage;
The count-father himself more than once, not twice
Tried it first.
Six horses harnessed to it,
The lantern inside was lit.
The count himself corrected the pillows,
I made a bear cavity at my feet,
Making a prayer, scapular
Hung in the right corner
And - sobbed ... Princess-daughter
Going somewhere tonight...
Yes, we tear the heart in half
To each other, but, dear,
Tell me, what else can we do?
Can you help melancholy!
One who could help us
Now... I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
Bless your own daughter
And let go in peace!
God knows, see you again
Alas! there is no hope.
Forgive and know: your love,
Your last testament
I will remember deeply
On the far side…
I don't cry, but it's not easy
To part with you!
Oh, God knows! .. But the duty is different,
And higher and harder
He's calling me... Forgive me, my dear!
Do not cry in vain!
Far is my way, hard is my way,
My fate is terrible
But I dressed my chest with steel ...
Be proud - I'm your daughter!
Forgive me too, my native land,
Sorry, unfortunate land!
And you ... oh fatal city,
Nest of kings... farewell!
Who has seen London and Paris
Venice and Rome
That you do not seduce with brilliance,
But you were loved by me
Happy my youth
Passed within your walls
I loved your balls
Catania from the steep mountains,
Loved the shine of your Neva
In the evening silence
And this square in front of her
With a hero on horseback...
Calm, strong and light,
A cart rolls by the city.
All in black, deathly pale,
The princess rides in it alone,
And the father's secretary (in crosses,
To instill dear fear)
With servants galloping ahead ...
Fistula with a whip, shouting: "Fall!"
The coachman passed the capital ....
The path lay far for the princess,
It was a harsh winter...
At every station
The traveler comes out: “Hurry
Harness your horses!"
And sprinkles with a generous hand
Chervonets of Yamskaya's servants.
But the path is hard! On the twentieth day
Barely arrived in Tyumen,
They rode for another ten days,
"We'll see the Yenisei soon, -
The secretary said to the princess,
The sovereign does not go like that! .. "
grand hall,
The lights are all on fire.
O joy! now a children's ball,
Chu! the music is booming!
Scarlet ribbons were woven into her
In two blond braids,
Flowers, outfits brought
Unseen beauty.
Papa came - gray, blush, -
Invites her to guests.
"Well, Katya! miracle sundress!
He will drive everyone crazy!
She loves, loves without limits.
Spinning in front of her
Flower garden of cute children's faces,
Heads and curls.
Children are dressed up like flowers,
Smarter old people:
Plumes, ribbons and crosses,
With the sound of heels ...
Dancing, jumping child,
Not thinking about anything
And childhood frisky joking
Sweeps… Then
Another time, another ball
She dreams: in front of her
A handsome young man is standing
He whispers something to her...
Then again balls, balls ...
She is their mistress
They have dignitaries, ambassadors,
They have all the fashionable light ...
“Oh dear! why are you so gloomy?
What is in your heart?
“Child! I'm bored with social noise
Let's go, let's go!"
passed the north
Let's go south.
Needs before us, rights over us
No one ... Himself-friend
Always only with those who are dear to us,
We live as we want;
Today we look at the ancient temple,
Tomorrow we will visit
Palace, ruins, museum...
How fun though
Share your thoughts
With your favorite being!
Vatican,
Return to the living world
Where the donkey neighs, the fountain roars,
The artisan sings;
Trade is booming
They shout in every way:
"Corals! shells! snails!
Ice cream water!”
Dancing, eating, fighting naked,
Satisfied with myself
And a braid as black as pitch
Roman woman young
The old woman is scratching ... It's a hot day,
Unbearable black din,
Where can we find peace and shade?
We go to the first temple.
The noise of life is not heard here,
Coolness, silence
And semi-darkness... Strict thoughts
Again the soul is full.
Saints and angels in a crowd
Temple decorated above
Porphyry and jasper under the foot
And marble on the walls ...
How sweet to listen to the sound of the sea!
You sit for an hour
Undepressed, cheerful mind
Works meanwhile....
Mountain path to the sun
Climb high -
What a morning before you!
How easy it is to breathe!
But hotter, hotter southern day
In the green of the valleys
There is no dewdrop ... Let's go under the shade
Umbrella pinn…
The princess remembers those days
Walks and conversations
They left in their hearts
An indelible mark.
But do not return her days of the past,
Those days of hopes and dreams
How not to return later about them
Tears shed by her!
Gone are the rainbow dreams
In front of her are a number of paintings.
Downtrodden, driven country:
Severe lord
And a miserable worker-man
With a bowed head...
As the first to rule accustomed!
How slaves the second!
She dreams of groups of poor people
In the fields, in the meadows,
She dreams of the groans of barge haulers
On the banks of the Volga ...
Full of naive horror
She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep
Fall asleep satellite she
Questions in a hurry:
“Tell me, is the whole region like this?
There is no shade contentment? .. "
“You are in the kingdom of beggars and slaves!” —
The short answer was...
She woke up - in the hand of a dream!
Chu, heard ahead
Sad ringing - shackled ringing!
"Hey, coachman, wait!"
Then the exiled party is coming,
My chest hurt more.
The princess gives them money, -
"Thank you, good luck!"
She long, long their faces
Dreaming later,
And do not drive away her thoughts,
Don't forget sleep!
“And that party here was ...
Yes... there is no other way...
But the blizzard covered their trail.
Hurry, coachman, hurry! .. "
The frost is stronger, the path is more deserted,
The farther to the east;
Some three hundred miles
wretched town,
But how happy you look
On a dark row of houses
But where are the people? Silence everywhere
Can't even hear the dogs.
Frost drove everyone under the roof,
They drink tea out of boredom.
A soldier passed, a cart passed,
The chimes are striking somewhere.
Frozen windows ... light
In one, a little flashed ...
Cathedral ... at the exit of the prison ...
The coachman waved his whip:
"Hey you!" - and there is no longer a town,
The last house is gone...
To the right are the mountains and the river,
To the left is a dark forest...
Sick, tired mind boils,
Sleepless until morning
Heart yearns. Change of thoughts
Painfully fast:
The princess sees friends
That dark prison
And then she thinks -
God knows why
That the starry sky is sand
sprinkled leaf,
And the month - with red sealing wax
Embossed circle...
The mountains are gone; started
A plain without end.
More dead! Won't meet the eye
Living tree.
“And here is the tundra!” - speaks
Coachman, Buryat steppe.
The princess gazes
And he thinks sadly:
Here's a greedy man
Goes for gold!
It lies along the riverbeds,
It is at the bottom of the marshes.
Difficult mining on the river,
The swamps are terrible in the heat,
But worse, worse in the mine,
Deep underground!
There is deathly silence
There's an unfathomable darkness...
Why, damn country,
Ermak found you?..
squares run
Countless Crowds:
Official people, merchant people,
Peddlers, priests;
Hats, velvet, silk are full of colors,
Sheepskin coats, Armenians ...
There was already a regiment there,
More shelves came
More than a thousand soldiers
Agreed. They are "hooray!" screaming,
They are waiting for something...
The people roared, the people yawned,
Hardly a hundredth understood
What is going on here...
But he laughed out loud
Slyly squinting,
A Frenchman familiar with storms,
Capital kuafer…
New shelves arrived:
“Surrender!” they shout.
The answer to them is bullets and bayonets,
They don't want to give up.
Some brave general
Having flown in a square, he began to threaten -
They took him off the horse.
Another approached the ranks:
"Forgiveness the king will grant you!"
They killed that too.
The Metropolitan himself appeared
With banners, with a cross:
“Repent, brethren! - says -
Fall before the king!"
The soldiers listened, crossing themselves,
But the answer was friendly:
"Go away, old man! pray for us!
You don't care here..."
Then the guns were brought
The king himself commanded: “pa-li! ..”
Buckshot whistles, the core roars,
People are falling in rows...
“Oh dear! are you alive?..”
Princess, having lost her memory,
Rushed forward and headlong
Fell from above!
In front of her is a long and damp
underground corridor,
At every door there is a sentry
All doors are locked.
The surf of the waves is like a splash
Outside is heard by her;
Inside - rattling, guns shine
By the light of lanterns;
Yes, the distant sound of footsteps
And a long rumble from them,
Yes, the cross-chime of the clock,
Yes, the cries of sentries ...
With keys, old and gray,
Mustachioed invalid.
“Come, sadness, follow me! —
She speaks quietly. —
I will take you to him
He is alive and unharmed…”
She trusted him
She followed him...
revenge!
Will get courage in the chest,
Readiness is hot
Is it necessary to ask? .. "-" Do not go,
Don't touch the executioner!"
— “Oh dear! What did you say? words
I don't hear yours.
That terrible chime of the clock,
Those are the screams of sentries!
Why is there a third between us? .. "
“Your question is naive.”
“It's time! the hour has struck!" —
That third one said...
The princess shuddered, - looks
Frightened around,
Horror chills her heart:
Not everything here was a dream!
The moon floated among the skies
No glitter, no rays
To the left was a gloomy forest,
To the right is the Yenisei.
Dark! Towards not a soul
The coachman on the goats was sleeping,
Hungry wolf in the wilderness
groaned piercingly,
Yes, the wind beat and roared,
playing on the river,
Yes, a foreigner sang somewhere
In a strange language
Severe pathos sounded
unknown language
And more heartbreak,
Like a seagull crying in a storm...
The princess is cold; that night
The frost was unbearable
Forces have fallen; she can't stand it
Fight more with him.
Horror seized the mind,
That she can't get there.
The coachman has not sung for a long time,
Didn't urge the horses
Do not hear the front three.
"Hey! are you alive, coachman?
What are you shutting up? don't you dare sleep!"
"Don't be afraid, I'm used to..."
They fly ... From a frozen window
Nothing is visible
She drives a dangerous dream,
But don't chase him away!
He will the sick woman
Instantly conquered
And, like a magician, to another land
She was relocated.
That edge - she already knows it, -
As before, the bliss is full,
And warm sunshine
And the sweet singing of the waves
She was greeted like a friend...
Wherever you look:
Yes, this is the south! yes, this is the south! —
Everything tells the eye...
Not a cloud in the blue sky
The valley is full of flowers
Everything is flooded with the sun - on everything,
Down and on the mountains
Seal of mighty beauty
Rejoices all around;
To her sun, sea and flowers
They sing: "Yes - this is the south!"
In a valley between a chain of mountains
And the blue sea
She flies at full speed
With your chosen one.
Their path is a luxurious garden,
Fragrance pours from the trees
On every tree is burning
Ruddy, lush fruit;
Through the dark branches
Azure of skies and waters;
Ships sail across the sea,
sails flicker,
And the mountains visible in the distance
They go to heaven.
How wonderful are their colors! In an hour
Rubies glowed there,
Now sparkling topaz
On their white ridges ...
Here is a pack mule walking a step,
In bells, in flowers,
Behind the mule is a woman with a wreath,
With a basket in hand.
She yells at them, "Goodbye!" —
And suddenly laughing
Throws quickly on her chest
Flower... yes! it's south!
Country of ancient, swarthy maidens
And the land of eternal roses...
Chu! melodic tune,
Chu! music is heard!
Yes, it's south! yes, it's south!
(Sings a good dream to her.)
Again with you beloved friend,
He's free again!
PART TWO
It's been almost two months now
Constantly day and night on the road
A marvelously well-coordinated carriage,
And the end of the road is far away!
The princess' companion is so tired,
That he fell ill near Irkutsk.
I met her in Irkutsk myself
City chief;
How dry the relics are, how straight the stick is,
Tall and grey.
Slipped from his shoulder doha,
Under it are crosses, a uniform,
On the hat are rooster feathers.
Honorable Brigadier,
Scolding the coachman for something,
hastily jumped up
And the doors of a strong wagon
The princess opened ...
(included in the station house
To Nerchinsk! Deposit quickly!
GOVERNOR
I have come to meet you.
Tell them to give me horses!
GOVERNOR
Please slow down.
Our road is so bad
You need to rest…
Thank you! I am strong...
My path is far...
GOVERNOR
your rare person
By heart, by mind
Imprinted in the soul forever
Gratitude to him
At the service of his daughter
I'm ready ... I'm all yours ...
But I don't need anything!
(Opening the door to the hallway.)
Is the crew ready?
GOVERNOR
Until I say
It will not be served...
So order it! I ask…
GOVERNOR
But there is a clue here:
Sent with last mail
Paper…
What is in it:
Shouldn't I go back?
GOVERNOR
Yes, it would be better.
But who sent you and about what
Paper? what is there
Were you kidding about your father?
He arranged everything himself!
GOVERNOR
No... I dare not say...
But the way is still far...
So what a gift and chat!
Is my cart ready?
GOVERNOR
No! I haven't ordered yet...
Princess! here I am the king!
Sit down! I already said
What I knew the count of old,
And the count ... even though he let you go,
By your kindness
But your departure killed him...
Come back soon!
No! once decided
I will complete it!
It's funny for me to tell you
How I love my father
How he loves. But another duty
And above and holy
Calls me. My tormentor!
Let's have horses!
GOVERNOR
Allow me, sir. I agree myself
What is precious every hour
But do you know well
What's in store for you?
Our side is barren
And she is even poorer,
In short, our spring is there,
Winter is even longer.
Yes, eight months of winter
There, you know?
There people are rare without stigma,
And those souls are callous;
Freely prowl around
There are only varnaks;
The prison house is terrible there,
Deep mines.
You don't have to be with your husband
Eye to eye minutes:
You have to live in a common barracks,
And food: bread and kvass.
Five thousand convicts there,
Embittered by fate
Start fights at night
Murder and robbery;
The judgment is short and terrible for them,
There is no more terrible court!
And you, princess, are always here
Witness... Yes!
Trust me, you won't be spared
Nobody will take pity!
Let your husband - he is to blame ...
And you endure ... why?
It will be terrible, I know
My husband's life.
Let it be mine
Not happier than him!
GOVERNOR
and cold all year round
And in brief heats -
Non-drying swamps
Bad couples?
Yes ... Terrible land! Get out of there
The beast of the forest also runs,
When the hundred day night
Hang over the country...
People live in that region
I'm used to joking...
GOVERNOR
pounding furiously
Out the window, like a brownie.
From dense forests, from deserted rivers
Collecting your tribute
Strong native man
With nature in battle
And you?..
May death be destined for me -
I have nothing to regret!..
I'm going! food! I must
Near her husband to die.
GOVERNOR
Yes, you will die, but first
Exhaust the one
Whose irrevocably head
She died. For him
Please don't go there!
More bearable alone
Tired of hard work
Come to your prison
Come and lie down on the bare floor
And with stale cracker
Fall asleep ... and a good dream came -
And the prisoner became king!
Flying a dream to relatives, to friends,
Seeing yourself
He will wake up, to the daily labors
And cheerful, and quiet in heart,
And with you? .. with you do not know
Happy dreams to him
In himself he will be aware
The reason for your tears.
Oh!.. Keep these words
You are better for others.
All your tortures won't extract
Tears from my eyes!
Leaving home, friends,
beloved father,
Taking a vow in my soul
Fulfill to the end
My duty - I will not bring tears
To the cursed prison
I will save pride, pride in him,
I will give him strength!
Contempt for our executioners,
Consciousness of being right
We will be a faithful support.
GOVERNOR
Wonderful dreams!
But they will get for five days.
Don't you be sad for a century?
Trust my conscience
You want to live.
Here is stale bread, prison, shame,
Need and eternal oppression,
And there are balls, a brilliant courtyard,
Freedom and honor.
How to know? Perhaps God judged...
like another,
The law does not deprive you of the right ...
Be silent!.. My God!..
GOVERNOR
Yes, I'm being honest
Get back into the light.
And women are slaves.
What will I find there? hypocrisy,
desecrated honor,
Cheeky bastard triumph
And petty revenge.
No, in this cut down forest
I won't be lured
Where there were oaks to heaven,
And now the stumps are sticking out!
He keeps the diaries of his mother, who went to Siberia for her husband, he began to ask him for permission to get acquainted with the papers. For three evenings, Mikhail Sergeevich and Nikolai Alekseevich read the notes. During the reading, the poet repeatedly jumped up, clutched his head and began to cry. These documentary evidence formed the basis of the poem "Russian Women". The description of Princess Trubetskoy (Part 1) and Princess Volkonskaya (Part 2) is the plot basis of the famous work, first read by the poet in the summer of 1871.
Historical reference
Ekaterina Ivanovna Laval married Sergei Trubetskoy for love. She became his true friend and like-minded person, was aware of her husband's political views. Having learned about the events at the twenty-five-year-old Catherine, she immediately decided for herself that she would share his fate with her husband, no matter how terrible it was. The princess became the first of eleven women who set off after the verdict was announced on July 23, and the very next day she set off on the road. She was accompanied by her father's secretary, Karl Voshe (on the way, he would fall ill and return back, as Nekrasov writes about in a poem). "Russian Women" is a poem that tells about a difficult journey from St. Petersburg to Irkutsk, showing the heroine's resilience, tolerance, her devotion to her husband and readiness for self-sacrifice.
Description of the road
The sobs of a father seeing off his daughter, who is "going somewhere this night." Farewell words of the heroine, who understands that she will never see her relatives again. The full confidence of the princess that her duty is to be close to her husband. Memories of serene youth and the person who became the culprit of her misfortunes (referring to the dance at the ball in 1818 with the future Emperor Nicholas I). This is how the poem begins (Nekrasov attached great importance to it in his work) “Russian Women”.
Princess Trubetskaya is the central image of the first part. The author does not give the heroine, because something else is important for him - to show her inner world, to trace the formation of essential character traits. From the very beginning of the poem, Ekaterina Ivanovna is full of determination and has no doubts about her act. She knows how terrible her future fate will be. In order to obtain permission to travel, she deliberately renounced the title, the opportunity to communicate with relatives, welfare - her father's house was the best in St. Petersburg. “I dressed my chest with steel,” she admits when parting with her father, and in these words one can hear the readiness to follow her beloved at all costs, the ability to overcome any obstacles for the sake of being able to fulfill her sacred duty and be close to her husband.
The role of memories and dreams
The road to Siberia is very long and difficult, but there is no time for rest. Approaching the station, the princess demands to change horses as soon as possible and goes on. In doing so, the author uses a very successful technique, describing the pictures that her imagination draws in this endless journey. Either dreams, or just memories that arise in her head - this is the best characteristic of Princess Trubetskoy from the poem "Russian Women". At first she sees a magnificent secular life with fun and balls, a trip abroad with her young husband, all that has now become insignificant and unimportant for her. These vivid pictures are suddenly replaced by a painful sight: working men in the field, barge haulers groaning by the river. Her husband attracted her attention to this side of Russian life.
Along the way, there is a party of exiles, which reminds of the hard fate of the Decembrists. The consciousness of the heroine brings her back to the tragic events of six months ago. A condensed but accurate picture of the uprising. Ekaterina Ivanovna not only knew about its preparation, but also kept a printing press. And then there was a meeting with her husband in prison, during which he gave her complete freedom. However, a loving woman, even at the moment of Sergei Petrovich's arrest, decided that she would support him in everything. It is from such details that the poem “Russian Women” is formed. The author shows the heroine's sympathy for the common people, hatred for the tsar and his regime. And also the desire to fight and prove their right to independence.
Meeting with the Governor
The second chapter is a dialogue. It is he who helps to fully understand the character of the heroine, her determination and confidence in the correctness of the choice made. It must be said that the scene described by Nekrasov actually took place, and Zeidler actually received an order from the emperor to stop Ekaterina Ivanovna at any cost. The arguments of the heroine during the conversation can also be perceived as a characteristic of Princess Trubetskoy from the poem "Russian Women". She is not afraid of the details of how convicts live, or the harsh climate, where the sun shines only three months a year, or the fact that the princess and her children will be equated with ordinary peasants. Ekaterina Ivanovna, who has signed a waiver of all her rights, is ready to move forward even as part of a convict party. The firm character, enormous willpower, Trubetskoy's incomparable courage and steadfastness forced the governor to retreat. “I did everything I could ...”, - these words of Zeidler became an acknowledgment of the moral victory won by a decisive, ready-for-everything woman.
Instead of an afterword
“She captivated others to a feat,” N. Nekrasov said about Ekaterina Ivanovna. Russian women, Princess Trubetskaya in particular, who wished to share the fate of their husbands, to fulfill their duty to God and themselves to the end, forever became a symbol of inexhaustible heroism, self-sacrifice, great human love and devotion.
Ekaterina Ivanovna fully experienced hunger, prison life, and the debilitating Siberian cold. The first of the Decembrists did not live up to the amnesty for only two years and died in Irkutsk. But although she never saw her relatives or the capital again, according to contemporaries, she never regretted what she had done.
Such is the characterization of Princess Trubetskoy from the poem "Russian Women" by N. Nekrasov.
