Yankel turned to him and said that everything possible would be done; that his Ostap was in the city jail, and that although it would be difficult to persuade the jailer, yet he hoped to arrange a meeting.
Bulba entered the room with the three Jews.
The Jews again began to talk among themselves in their incomprehensible tongue. Taras looked hard at each of them. Something seemed to have moved him deeply; over his rough and stolid10 countenance11 a flame of hope spread, of hope such as sometimes visits a man in the last depths of his despair; his aged12 heart began to beat violently as though he had been a youth.
“Listen, Jews!” said he, and there was a triumphant13 ring in his words. “You can do anything in the world, even extract things from the bottom of the sea; and it has long been a proverb, that a Jew will steal from himself if he takes a fancy to steal. Set my Ostap at liberty! give him a chance to escape from their diabolical14 hands. I promised this man five thousand ducats; I will add another five thousand: all that I have, rich cups, buried gold, houses, all, even to my last garment, I will part with; and I will enter into a contract with you for my whole life, to give you half of all the booty I may gain in war.”
“Oh, impossible, dear lord, it is impossible!” said Yankel with a sigh.
“Impossible,” said another Jew.
All three Jews looked at each other.
“We might try,” said the third, glancing timidly at the other two. “God may favour us.”
All three Jews discussed the matter in German. Bulba, in spite of his straining ears, could make nothing of it; he only caught the word “Mardokhai” often repeated.
“Listen, my lord!” said Yankel. “We must consult with a man such as there never was before in the world . . . ugh, ugh! as wise as Solomon; and if he will do nothing, then no one in the world can. Sit here: this is the key; admit no one.” The Jews went out into the street.
Taras locked the door, and looked out from the little window upon the dirty Jewish street. The three Jews halted in the middle of the street and began to talk with a good deal of warmth: a fourth soon joined them, and finally a fifth. Again he heard repeated, “Mardokhai, Mardokhai!” The Jews glanced incessantly15 towards one side of the street; at length from a dirty house near the end of it emerged a foot in a Jewish shoe and the skirts of a caftan. “Ah! Mardokhai, Mardokhai!” shouted the Jews in one voice. A thin Jew somewhat shorter than Yankel, but even more wrinkled, and with a huge upper lip, approached the impatient group; and all the Jews made haste to talk to him, interrupting each other. During the recital16, Mardokhai glanced several times towards the little window, and Taras divined that the conversation concerned him.
Mardokhai waved his hands, listened, interrupted, spat17 frequently to one side, and, pulling up the skirts of his caftan, thrust his hand into his pocket and drew out some jingling18 thing, showing very dirty trousers in the operation. Finally all the Jews set up such a shouting that the Jew who was standing19 guard was forced to make a signal for silence, and Taras began to fear for his safety; but when he remembered that Jews can only consult in the street, and that the demon20 himself cannot understand their language, he regained21 his composure.
Two minutes later the Jews all entered the room together. Mardokhai approached Taras, tapped him on the shoulder, and said, “When we set to work it will be all right.” Taras looked at this Solomon whom the world had never known and conceived some hope: indeed, his face might well inspire confidence. His upper lip was simply an object of horror; its thickness being doubtless increased by adventitious23 circumstances. This Solomon’s beard consisted only of about fifteen hairs, and they were on the left side. Solomon’s face bore so many scars of battle, received for his daring, that he had doubtless lost count of them long before, and had grown accustomed to consider them as birthmarks.
Mardokhai departed, accompanied by his comrades, who were filled with admiration24 at his wisdom. Bulba remained alone. He was in a strange, unaccustomed situation for the first time in his life; he felt uneasy. His mind was in a state of fever. He was no longer unbending, immovable, strong as an oak, as he had formerly25 been: but felt timid and weak. He trembled at every sound, at every fresh Jewish face which showed itself at the end of the street. In this condition he passed the whole day. He neither ate nor drank, and his eye never for a moment left the small window looking on the street. Finally, late at night, Mardokhai and Yankel made their appearance. Taras’s heart died within him.
“What news? have you been successful?” he asked with the impatience26 of a wild horse.
But before the Jews had recovered breath to answer, Taras perceived that Mardokhai no longer had the locks, which had formerly fallen in greasy27 curls from under his felt cap. It was evident that he wished to say something, but he uttered only nonsense which Taras could make nothing of. Yankel himself put his hand very often to his mouth as though suffering from a cold.
“Oh, dearest lord!” said Yankel: “it is quite impossible now! by heaven, impossible! Such vile28 people that they deserve to be spit upon! Mardokhai here says the same. Mardokhai has done what no man in the world ever did, but God did not will that it should be so. Three thousand soldiers are in garrison29 here, and to-morrow the prisoners are all to be executed.”
Taras looked the Jew straight in the face, but no longer with impatience or anger.
“But if my lord wishes to see his son, then it must be early to-morrow morning, before the sun has risen. The sentinels have consented, and one gaoler has promised. But may he have no happiness in the world, woe30 is me! What greedy people! There are none such among us: I gave fifty ducats to each sentinel and to the gaoler.”
“Good. Take me to him!” exclaimed Taras, with decision, and with all his firmness of mind restored. He agreed to Yankel’s proposition that he should disguise himself as a foreign count, just arrived from Germany, for which purpose the prudent31 Jew had already provided a costume. It was already night. The master of the house, the red-haired Jew with freckles, pulled out a mattress32 covered with some kind of rug, and spread it on a bench for Bulba. Yankel lay upon the floor on a similar mattress. The red-haired Jew drank a small cup of brandy, took off his caftan, and betook himself — looking, in his shoes and stockings, very like a lean chicken — with his wife, to something resembling a cupboard. Two little Jews lay down on the floor beside the cupboard, like a couple of dogs. But Taras did not sleep; he sat motionless, drumming on the table with his fingers. He kept his pipe in his mouth, and puffed33 out smoke, which made the Jew sneeze in his sleep and pull his coverlet over his nose. Scarcely was the sky touched with the first faint gleams of dawn than he pushed Yankel with his foot, saying: “Rise, Jew, and give me your count’s dress!”
In a moment he was dressed. He blackened his moustache and eyebrows34, put on his head a small dark cap; even the Cossacks who knew him best would not have recognised him. Apparently35 he was not more than thirty-five. A healthy colour glowed on his cheeks, and his scars lent him an air of command. The gold-embroidered dress became him extremely well.
The streets were still asleep. Not a single one of the market folk as yet showed himself in the city, with his basket on his arm. Yankel and Bulba made their way to a building which presented the appearance of a crouching36 stork37. It was large, low, wide, and black; and on one side a long slender tower like a stork’s neck projected above the roof. This building served for a variety of purposes; it was a barrack, a jail, and the criminal court. The visitors entered the gate and found themselves in a vast room, or covered courtyard. About a thousand men were sleeping here. Straight before them was a small door, in front of which sat two sentries38 playing at some game which consisted in one striking the palm of the other’s hand with two fingers. They paid little heed39 to the new arrivals, and only turned their heads when Yankel said, “It is we, sirs; do you hear? it is we.”
“Go in!” said one of them, opening the door with one hand, and holding out the other to his comrade to receive his blows.
They entered a low and dark corridor, which led them to a similar room with small windows overhead. “Who goes there?” shouted several voices, and Taras beheld a number of warriors40 in full armour41. “We have been ordered to admit no one.”
“It is we!” cried Yankel; “we, by heavens, noble sirs!” But no one would listen to him. Fortunately, at that moment a fat man came up, who appeared to be a commanding officer, for he swore louder than all the others.
“My lord, it is we! you know us, and the lord count will thank you.”
“Admit them, a hundred fiends, and mother of fiends! Admit no one else. And no one is to draw his sword, nor quarrel.”
The conclusion of this order the visitors did not hear. “It is we, it is I, it is your friends!” Yankel said to every one they met.
“Well, can it be managed now?” he inquired of one of the guards, when they at length reached the end of the corridor.
“It is possible, but I don’t know whether you will be able to gain admission to the prison itself. Yana is not here now; another man is keeping watch in his place,” replied the guard.
“Ai, ai!” cried the Jew softly: “this is bad, my dear lord!”
“Go on!” said Taras, firmly, and the Jew obeyed.
At the arched entrance of the vaults42 stood a heyduke, with a moustache trimmed in three layers: the upper layer was trained backwards43, the second straight forward, and the third downwards44, which made him greatly resemble a cat.
The Jew shrank into nothing and approached him almost sideways: “Your high excellency! High and illustrious lord!”
“Are you speaking to me, Jew?”
“To you, illustrious lord.”
“Hm, but I am merely a heyduke,” said the merry-eyed man with the triple-tiered moustache.
“And I thought it was the Waiwode himself, by heavens! Ai, ai, ai!” Thereupon the Jew twisted his head about and spread out his fingers. “Ai, what a fine figure! Another finger’s-breadth and he would be a colonel. The lord no doubt rides a horse as fleet as the wind and commands the troops!”
The heyduke twirled the lower tier of his moustache, and his eyes beamed.
“What a warlike people!” continued the Jew. “Ah, woe is me, what a fine race! Golden cords and trappings that shine like the sun; and the maidens45, wherever they see warriors — Ai, ai!” Again the Jew wagged his head.
The heyduke twirled his upper moustache and uttered a sound somewhat resembling the neighing of a horse.
“I pray my lord to do us a service!” exclaimed the Jew: “this prince has come hither from a foreign land, and wants to get a look at the Cossacks. He never, in all his life, has seen what sort of people the Cossacks are.”
The advent22 of foreign counts and barons46 was common enough in Poland: they were often drawn47 thither48 by curiosity to view this half-Asiatic corner of Europe. They regarded Moscow and the Ukraine as situated49 in Asia. So the heyduke bowed low, and thought fit to add a few words of his own.
“I do not know, your excellency,” said he, “why you should desire to see them. They are dogs, not men; and their faith is such as no one respects.”
“You lie, you son of Satan!” exclaimed Bulba. “You are a dog yourself! How dare you say that our faith is not respected? It is your heretical faith which is not respected.”
“Oho!” said the heyduke. “I can guess who you are, my friend; you are one of the breed of those under my charge. So just wait while I summon our men.”
Taras realised his indiscretion, but vexation and obstinacy50 hindered him from devising a means of remedying it. Fortunately Yankel managed to interpose at this moment:—
“Most noble lord, how is it possible that the count can be a Cossack? If he were a Cossack, where could have he obtained such a dress, and such a count-like mien51?”
“Explain that yourself.” And the heyduke opened his wide mouth to shout.
“Your royal highness, silence, silence, for heaven’s sake!” cried Yankel. “Silence! we will pay you for it in a way you never dreamed of: we will give you two golden ducats.”
“Oho! two ducats! I can’t do anything with two ducats. I give my barber two ducats for only shaving the half of my beard. Give me a hundred ducats, Jew.” Here the heyduke twirled his upper moustache. “If you don’t, I will shout at once.”
“Why so much?” said the Jew, sadly, turning pale, and undoing52 his leather purse; but it was lucky that he had no more in it, and that the heyduke could not count over a hundred.
“My lord, my lord, let us depart quickly! Look at the evil-minded fellow!” said Yankel to Taras, perceiving that the heyduke was turning the money over in his hand as though regretting that he had not demanded more.
“What do you mean, you devil of a heyduke?” said Bulba. “What do you mean by taking our money and not letting us see the Cossacks? No, you must let us see them. Since you have taken the money, you have no right to refuse.”
“Go, go to the devil! If you won’t, I’ll give the alarm this moment. Take yourselves off quickly, I say!”
“My lord, my lord, let us go! in God’s name let us go! Curse him! May he dream such things that he will have to spit,” cried poor Yankel.
Bulba turned slowly, with drooping53 head, and retraced54 his steps, followed by the complaints of Yankel who was sorrowing at the thought of the wasted ducats.
“Why be angry? Let the dog curse. That race cannot help cursing. Oh, woe is me, what luck God sends to some people! A hundred ducats merely for driving us off! And our brother: they have torn off his ear-locks, and they made wounds on his face that you cannot bear to look at, and yet no one will give him a hundred gold pieces. O heavens! Merciful God!”
But this failure made a much deeper impression on Bulba, expressed by a devouring55 flame in his eyes.
“Let us go,” he said, suddenly, as if arousing himself; “let us go to the square. I want to see how they will torture him.”
“Oh, my lord! why go? That will do us no good now.”
“Let us go,” said Bulba, obstinately56; and the Jew followed him, sighing like a nurse.
The square on which the execution was to take place was not hard to find: for the people were thronging58 thither from all quarters. In that savage59 age such a thing constituted one of the most noteworthy spectacles, not only for the common people, but among the higher classes. A number of the most pious60 old men, a throng57 of young girls, and the most cowardly women, who dreamed the whole night afterwards of their bloody61 corpses62, and shrieked63 as loudly in their sleep as a drunken hussar, missed, nevertheless, no opportunity of gratifying their curiosity. “Ah, what tortures!” many of them would cry, hysterically64, covering their eyes and turning away; but they stood their ground for a good while, all the same. Many a one, with gaping65 mouth and outstretched hands, would have liked to jump upon other folk’s heads, to get a better view. Above the crowd towered a bulky butcher, admiring the whole process with the air of a connoisseur66, and exchanging brief remarks with a gunsmith, whom he addressed as “Gossip,” because he got drunk in the same alehouse with him on holidays. Some entered into warm discussions, others even laid wagers67. But the majority were of the species who, all the world over, look on at the world and at everything that goes on in it and merely scratch their noses. In the front ranks, close to the bearded civic-guards, stood a young noble, in warlike array, who had certainly put his whole wardrobe on his back, leaving only his torn shirt and old shoes at his quarters. Two chains, one above the other, hung around his neck. He stood beside his mistress, Usisya, and glanced about incessantly to see that no one soiled her silk gown. He explained everything to her so perfectly68 that no one could have added a word. “All these people whom you see, my dear Usisya,” he said, “have come to see the criminals executed; and that man, my love, yonder, holding the axe69 and other instruments in his hands, is the executioner, who will despatch70 them. When he begins to break them on the wheel, and torture them in other ways, the criminals will still be alive; but when he cuts off their heads, then, my love, they will die at once. Before that, they will cry and move; but as soon as their heads are cut off, it will be impossible for them to cry, or to eat or drink, because, my dear, they will no longer have any head.” Usisya listened to all this with terror and curiosity.
The upper stories of the houses were filled with people. From the windows in the roof peered strange faces with beards and something resembling caps. Upon the balconies, beneath shady awnings71, sat the aristocracy. The hands of smiling young ladies, brilliant as white sugar, rested on the railings. Portly nobles looked on with dignity. Servants in rich garb72, with flowing sleeves, handed round various refreshments73. Sometimes a black-eyed young rogue74 would take her cake or fruit and fling it among the crowd with her own noble little hand. The crowd of hungry gentles held up their caps to receive it; and some tall noble, whose head rose amid the throng, with his faded red jacket and discoloured gold braid, and who was the first to catch it with the aid of his long arms, would kiss his booty, press it to his heart, and finally put it in his mouth. The hawk75, suspended beneath the balcony in a golden cage, was also a spectator; with beak76 inclined to one side, and with one foot raised, he, too, watched the people attentively77. But suddenly a murmur78 ran through the crowd, and a rumour79 spread, “They are coming! they are coming! the Cossacks!”
They were bare-headed, with their long locks floating in the air. Their beards had grown, and their once handsome garments were worn out, and hung about them in tatters. They walked neither timidly nor surlily, but with a certain pride, neither looking at nor bowing to the people. At the head of all came Ostap.
What were old Taras’s feelings when thus he beheld his Ostap? What filled his heart then? He gazed at him from amid the crowd, and lost not a single movement of his. They reached the place of execution. Ostap stopped. He was to be the first to drink the bitter cup. He glanced at his comrades, raised his hand, and said in a loud voice: “God grant that none of the heretics who stand here may hear, the unclean dogs, how Christians80 suffer! Let none of us utter a single word.” After this he ascended81 the scaffold.
“Well done, son! well done!” said Bulba, softly, and bent82 his grey head.
The executioner tore off his old rags; they fastened his hands and feet in stocks prepared expressly, and — We will not pain the reader with a picture of the hellish tortures which would make his hair rise upright on his head. They were the outcome of that coarse, wild age, when men still led a life of warfare83 which hardened their souls until no sense of humanity was left in them. In vain did some, not many, in that age make a stand against such terrible measures. In vain did the king and many nobles, enlightened in mind and spirit, demonstrate that such severity of punishment could but fan the flame of vengeance84 in the Cossack nation. But the power of the king, and the opinion of the wise, was as nothing before the savage will of the magnates of the kingdom, who, by their thoughtlessness and unconquerable lack of all far-sighted policy, their childish self-love and miserable85 pride, converted the Diet into the mockery of a government. Ostap endured the torture like a giant. Not a cry, not a groan86, was heard. Even when they began to break the bones in his hands and feet, when, amid the death-like stillness of the crowd, the horrible cracking was audible to the most distant spectators; when even his tormentors turned aside their eyes, nothing like a groan escaped his lips, nor did his face quiver. Taras stood in the crowd with bowed head; and, raising his eyes proudly at that moment, he said, approvingly, “Well done, boy! well done!”
But when they took him to the last deadly tortures, it seemed as though his strength were failing. He cast his eyes around.
O God! all strangers, all unknown faces! If only some of his relatives had been present at his death! He would not have cared to hear the sobs87 and anguish88 of his poor, weak mother, nor the unreasoning cries of a wife, tearing her hair and beating her white breast; but he would have liked to see a strong man who might refresh him with a word of wisdom, and cheer his end. And his strength failed him, and he cried in the weakness of his soul, “Father! where are you? do you hear?”
“I hear!” rang through the universal silence, and those thousands of people shuddered89 in concert. A detachment of cavalry90 hastened to search through the throng of people. Yankel turned pale as death, and when the horsemen had got within a short distance of him, turned round in terror to look for Taras; but Taras was no longer beside him; every trace of him was lost.
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1
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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detours
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| 绕行的路( detour的名词复数 )； 绕道，兜圈子 | |
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6
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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adventitious
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| adj.偶然的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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33
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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stork
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| n.鹳 | |
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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42
vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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43
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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45
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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46
barons
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| 男爵( baron的名词复数 )； 巨头； 大王； 大亨 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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thronging
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的现在分词 ) | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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connoisseur
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| n.鉴赏家，行家，内行 | |
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wagers
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| n.赌注，用钱打赌( wager的名词复数 )v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的第三人称单数 )；保证，担保 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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71
awnings
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| 篷帐布 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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83
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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87
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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88
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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89
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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90
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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