Imagine our comical situation. There were twenty-three rooms at our disposal, but only one of them had a stove and was warmed, and even in that room it was so cold that water froze in it in the early morning and the door was frosted at the fastenings. The post came sometimes once a week, sometimes once in two months, and was brought by a chance peasant, generally an old man with the packet under his shaggy snow-strewn coat, the addresses wet and smudged, the backs unsealed and stuck again by inquisitive1 postmasters. Around us was an ancient pine wood where bears prowled, and whence even in broad daylight the hungry wolves sallied forth2 and snatched away yawning dogs from the street of the hamlet near by. The local population spoke3 in a dialect we did not understand, now in a sing-song drawl, now coughing and hooting4, and they stared at us surlily and without restraint. They were firmly convinced that the forest belonged to God and the muzhik alone, and the lazy German steward5 only knew how much-wood they stole. There was at our service a splendid French library of the eighteenth century, though all the magnificent bindings were mouse-eaten. There was an old portrait gallery with the canvases ruined from damp, mould, and smoke.
Picture to yourself the neighbouring hamlet all overblown with snow, and the inevitable6 village idiot, Serozha, who goes naked even in the coldest weather; the priest who does not play "preference" on a fast day, but writes denunciations to the starosta, a stupid, artful man, diplomat7 and beggar, speaking in a dreadful Petersburg accent. If you see all this you understand to what a degree of boredom8 we attained9. We grew tired of encompassing10 bears, of hunting hares with hounds, of shooting with pistols at a target through three rooms at a distance of twenty-five paces, of writing humorous verses in the evening. Of course we quarrelled.
Yes, and if you had asked us individually why we had come to this place I should think not one of us would have answered the question. I was painting at that time; Valerian Alexandrovitch wrote symbolical11 verses, and Vaska amused himself with Wagner and played Tristan and Iseult on the old, ruined, yellow-keyed clavicordia.
But about Christmas-time the village began to enliven, and in all the little clearings round about, in Tristenka, in Borodina, Breslina, Shustova, Nikiforskaya and Kosli the peasants began to brew12 beer—such thick beer that it stained your hands and face at the touch, like lime bark. There was so much drunkenness among the peasants, even before the festival, that in Dagileva a son broke his father's head, and in Kruglitsi an old man drank himself to death. But Christmas was a diversion for us. We started paying the customary visits and offering congratulations to all the local officials and peasants of our acquaintance. First we went to the priest, then to the psalm-singer of the church, then to the church watchman, then to the two school-mistresses. After the school-mistresses we fared more pleasantly. We turned up at the doctor's at Tuma, then trooped off to the district clerk, where a real banquet awaited us, then to the policeman, then to the lame13 apothecary14, then to the local peasant tyrant15 who had grown rich and held a score of other peasants in his own grasp, and possessed16 all the cord, linen17, grain, wood, whips in the neighbourhood. And we went and went on!
It must be confessed, however, that we felt a little awkward now and then. We couldn't manage to get into the tempo18 of the life there. We were really out of it. This life had creamed and mantled19 for years without number. In spite of our pleasant manners and apparent ease we were, all the same, people from another planet. Then there was a disparity in our mutual20 estimation of one another: we looked at them as through a microscope, they at us as through a telescope. Certainly we made attempts to accommodate ourselves, and when the psalm-singer's servant, a woman of forty, with warty21 hands all chocolate colour from the reins22 of the horse she put in the sledge23 when she went with a bucket to the well, sang of an evening, we did what we thought we ought to do. She would look ashamed, lower her eyes, fold her arms and sing:
"Andray Nikolaevitch
We have come to you,
We wish to trouble you.
But we have come
And please to take
The one of us you love."
Then we would boldly make to kiss her on the lips, which we did in spite of feigned24 resistance and screams.
And we would make a circle. One day there were a lot of us there; four students on holiday from an ecclesiastical college, the psalm-singer, a housekeeper25 from a neighbouring estate, the two school-mistresses, the policeman in his uniform, the deacon, the local horse-doctor, and we three aesthetes26. We went round and round in a dance, and sang, roared, swinging now this way, now that, and the lion of the company, a student named Vozdvizhensky, stood in the middle and ordered our movements, dancing himself the while and snapping his fingers over his head:
"The queen was in the town, yes, the town,
And the prince, the little prince, ran away.
Found a bride, did the prince, found a bride.
She was nice, yes she was, she was nice,
And a ring got the prince for her, a ring."
After a while the giddy whirl of the dance came to an end, and we stopped and began to sing to one another, in solemn tones:
"The royal gates were opened,
Bowed the king to the queen,
And the queen to the king,
But lower bowed the queen."
And then the horse-doctor and the psalm-singer had a competition as to who should bow lower to the other.
Our visiting continued, and at last came to the school-house at Tuma. That was inevitable, since there had been long rehearsals27 of an entertainment which the children were going to give entirely28 for our benefit—Petersburg guests. We went in. The Christmas tree was lit simultaneously29 by a touch-paper. As for the programme, I knew it by heart before we went in. There were several little tableaux30, illustrative of songs of the countryside. It was all poorly done, but it must be confessed that one six-year-old mite31 playing the part of a peasant, wearing a huge cap of dog-skin and his father's great leather gloves with only places for hand and thumb, was delightful32, with his serious face and hoarse33 little bass34 voice—a born artist.
The remainder was very disgusting. All done in the false popular style.
I had long been familiar with the usual entertainment items: Little-Russian songs mispronounced to an impossible point; verses and silly embroidery35 patterns: "There's a Christmas tree, there's Petrushka, there's a horse, there's a steam-engine." The teacher, a little consumptive fellow, got up for the occasion in a long frock-coat and stiff shirt, played the fiddle36 in fits and starts, or beat time with his bow, or tapped a child on the head with it now and then.
The honorary guardian37 of the school, a notary38 from another town, chewed his gums all the time and stuck out his short parrot's tongue with sheer delight, feeling that the whole show had been got up in his honour.
At last the teacher got to the most important item on his programme. We had laughed up till then, our turn was coming to weep. A little girl of twelve or thirteen came out, the daughter of a watchman, her face, by the way, not at all like his horse-like profile. She was the top girl in the school and she began her little song:
"The jumping little grasshopper39 sang the summer through,
Never once considering how the winter would blow in
his eyes."
Then a shaggy little boy of seven, in his father's felt boots, took up his part, addressing the watchman's daughter:
"That's strange, neighbour. Didn't you work in the summer?"
"What was there to work for? There was plenty of grass."
Where was our famous Russian hospitality?
To the question, "What did you do in the summer?" the grasshopper could only reply, "I sang all the time."
At this answer the teacher, Kapitonitch, waved his bow and his fiddle at one and the same time—oh, that was an effect rehearsed long before that evening I—and suddenly in a mysterious half-whisper the whole choir40 began to sing:
"You've sung your song, you call that doing,
You've sung all the summer, then dance all the winter,
You've sung your song, then dance all the winter,
Dance all the winter, dance all the winter.
You've sung the song, then dance the dance."
I confess that my hair stood on end as if each individual hair were made of glass, and it seemed to me as if the eyes of the children and of the peasants packing the schoolroom were all fixed41 on me as if repeating that d——d phrase:
"You've sung the song, you call that doing,
You've sung the song, then dance the dance."
I don't know how long this drone of evil boding42 and sinister43 recitation went on. But I remember clearly that during those minutes an appalling44 idea went through my brain. "Here we stand," thought I, "a little band of intelligentsia, face to face with an innumerable peasantry, the most enigmatical, the greatest, and the most abased45 people in the world. What connects us with them? Nothing. Neither language, nor religion, nor labour, nor art. Our poetry would be ridiculous to their ears, absurd, incomprehensible. Our refined painting would be simply useless and senseless smudging in their eyes. Our quest for gods and making of gods would seem to them stupidity, our music merely a tedious noise. Our science would not satisfy them. Our complex work would seem laughable or pitiful to them, the austere46 and patient labourers of the fields. Yes. On the dreadful day of reckoning what answer shall we give to this child, wild beast, wise man, and animal, to this many-million-headed giant?" We shall only be able to say sorrowfully, "We sang all the time. We sang our song."
And he will reply with an artful peasant smile, "Then go and dance the dance."
And I know that my companions felt as I did. We went out of the entertainment-room silent, not exchanging opinions.
Three days later we said good-bye, and since that time have been rather cold towards one another. We had been suddenly chilled in our consciences and made ashamed, as if these innocent mouths of sleepy children had pronounced death sentence upon us. And when I returned from the post of Ivan Karaulof to Goreli, and from Goreli to Koslof, and from Koslof to Zintabrof, and then further by railroad there followed me all the time that ironical47, seemingly malicious48 phrase, "Then dance the dance."
God alone knows the destiny of the Russian people.... Well, I suppose, if it should be necessary, we'll dance it!
I travelled a whole night to the railway station.
On the bare frosted branches of the birches sat the stars, as if the Lord Himself had with His own hands decorated the trees. And I thought, "Yes, it's beautiful." But I could not banish49 that ironical thought, "Then dance the dance."
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1
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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3
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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4
hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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5
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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6
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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7
diplomat
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| n.外交官，外交家；能交际的人，圆滑的人 | |
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8
boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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9
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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10
encompassing
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| v.围绕( encompass的现在分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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11
symbolical
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| a.象征性的 | |
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12
brew
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| v.酿造，调制 | |
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13
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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14
apothecary
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| n.药剂师 | |
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15
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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16
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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17
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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18
tempo
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| n.(音乐的)速度；节奏，行进速度 | |
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19
mantled
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| 披着斗篷的，覆盖着的 | |
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20
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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21
warty
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| adj.有疣的，似疣的；瘤状 | |
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22
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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23
sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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24
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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25
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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26
aesthetes
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| n.审美家，唯美主义者( aesthete的名词复数 ) | |
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27
rehearsals
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| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
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28
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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29
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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30
tableaux
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| n.舞台造型，（由活人扮演的）静态画面、场面；人构成的画面或场景( tableau的名词复数 )；舞台造型；戏剧性的场面；绚丽的场景 | |
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31
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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32
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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33
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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34
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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35
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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36
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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37
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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38
notary
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| n.公证人，公证员 | |
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39
grasshopper
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| n.蚱蜢，蝗虫，蚂蚱 | |
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40
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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41
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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42
boding
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| adj.凶兆的，先兆的n.凶兆，前兆，预感v.预示，预告，预言( bode的现在分词 )；等待，停留( bide的过去分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待 | |
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43
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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44
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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45
abased
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| 使谦卑( abase的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到羞耻； 使降低（地位、身份等）； 降下 | |
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46
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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47
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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48
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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49
banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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