on the stove seat, singing a song.
'I feel somehow sad, my wife!' said Master Danilo. 'There's an ache in my head and an ache in my heart. Something is weighing me down. It must be that my death is straying somewhere nearby.'
'Oh, my beloved husband!' thought Katerina, 'lean your head on me! Why are you nursing such black thoughts in yourself?' But she did not dare to say it. Bitter it was for her, the guilty one, to accept her husband's caresses.
'Listen, my wife!' said Danilo, 'do not abandon our son when I am no more. You'll get no happiness from God if you abandon him, either in this world or in the next. Hard will it be for my bones to rot in the damp earth; but harder still will it be for my soul.'
'What are you saying, my husband! Did you not mock us weak women? And now you talk like a weak woman yourself. You must live for a long time yet.'
'No, Katerina, my soul senses that death is near. It's growing sad in the world. Evil times are coming. Ah, I remember, I remember the years; they certainly will not come back! He was still alive, the honor and glory of our army, old Konashevich! 10 The Cossack regiments pass as if before my eyes now! It was a golden time, Katerina! The hetman sat on a black steed. A mace gleamed in his hand; around him his hired troops; on both sides stirred a red sea of Zaporozhtsy. The hetman started to speak-all stood as if rooted. The old fellow wept as he began to recall for us the deeds and bat-des of old. Ah, if you knew, Katerina, what slaughter we did then on the Turks! You can still see the scar on my head. Four bullets went through me in four places. Not one of the wounds has healed completely. How much gold we brought home then! Cossacks scooped up precious stones with their hats. What steeds, if you knew, Katerina, what steeds we drove away with us! Ah, I'll never fight like that again! It seems I'm not old yet, and my body is hale; yet the Cossack sword drops from my hand, I live with nothing to do and don't know myself what I live for. There's no order in the Ukraine: colonels and captains bicker among themselves like dogs. There's no chief over them all. Our nobility have changed everything according to Polish custom, they've adopted their slyness… sold their souls by accepting the Unia. Jewry oppresses the poor people. Oh, time, time! past time! where have you gone, my years?… Go to the cellar, lad, and fetch me a crock of mead! I'll drink for the old life and the years gone by!'
'How shall we receive our guests, Master? Polacks are coming from the meadow side!' said Stetsko, entering the house.
'I know what they're coming for,' said Danilo, getting up from his seat. 'Saddle your horses, my trusty servants! harness up! draw your sabers! don't forget to bring some lead buckwheat! We must receive our guests with honor!'
But before the Cossacks had time to mount their horses and load their muskets, the Polacks, like leaves falling from the trees in autumn, were scattered over the hillside.
'Eh, there's a few here to be reckoned with!' said Master Danilo, looking at the fat nobles bobbing imposingly in the front on their gold-harnessed horses. 'Looks like we'll have one more round of famous carousing! Sport yourself, Cossack soul, for the last time! Carouse, lads, here's a holiday for us!'
And there was sport on the hills. The feast feasted: swords swing, bullets fly, horses whinny and stamp. The head goes mad from the shouting; the eyes go blind from the smoke. All is confusion. But a Cossack can sense which is friend and which foe; a bullet whistles-a dashing rider tumbles from his horse; a saber swishes-a head rolls on the ground, its tongue muttering incoherent words.
But you can see the red top of Master Danilo's Cossack hat in the throng; the golden belt over his blue jacket flashes before your eyes; the mane of his black horse flows in a whirl. Like a bird he flashes here and there; he shouts and brandishes his Damascus saber, and slashes from the right shoulder and from the left. Slash, Cossack! carouse, Cossack, as your brave heart pleases! but do not stop to gaze at the golden harness and jackets! trample gold and precious stones under your feet! Stab, Cossack! carouse, Cossack! but look back: the infidel Polacks are already setting fire to the cottages and driving the frightened cattle away. And like a whirlwind Master Danilo turns back, and now the hat with the red top flashes near the cottages and the throng around him thins out.
Not for one hour, not for two hours, does the battle between Polacks and Cossacks go on. Not many are left of the one or the other. But Master Danilo does not tire: he knocks some out of the saddle with his long lance, and his brave horse tramples the unseated ones. Now the courtyard is clearing, now the Polacks begin to scatter; now the Cossacks strip the golden jackets and rich harness from the slain; now Master Danilo prepares for the pursuit, he looks around to gather his men… and boils with rage: Katerina's father appears to him. There he stands on the hill, aiming a musket at him. Danilo urges his horse straight for the man… Cossack, you are going to your ruin!… The musket boomed-and the sorcerer disappeared over the hill. Only trusty Stetsko caught a flash of the red coat and strange hat. The Cossack staggered and fell to the ground. Trusty Stetsko rushed to his master-his master lay stretched on the ground, his bright eyes closed. Scarlet blood frothed on his breast. But he must have sensed his faithful servant near. Slowly he raised his eyelids and flashed his eyes: 'Farewell, Stetsko! Tell Katerina not to abandon our son! You, too, my trusty servants, do not abandon him!' and he fell silent. The Cossack soul flew out of his noble body; his lips turned blue. The Cossack slept, never to awake.
Weeping, the trusty servant beckoned to Katerina: 'Come, Mistress, come: your master is done carousing. He's lying drunk as can be on the damp earth. It will be a long time before he's sober!'
Katerina clasped her hands and fell like a sheaf on the dead body. 'My husband, is it you lying here with your eyes closed? Get up, my beloved falcon, reach your arm out! arise! glance at least once at your Katerina, move your lips, speak at least one word… But you are silent, silent, my bright master! You are blue as the Black Sea. Your heart does not beat! Why are you so cold, my master? It must be that my tears are not hot, they cannot warm you! It must be that my weeping is not loud, it does not awaken you! Who will lead your regiments now? Who will race on your black steed, hallooing loudly and brandishing a saber before the Cossacks? Cossacks, Cossacks! where is your honor and glory? Your honor and glory lie with closed eyes on the damp earth. Bury me, then, bury me together with him! Pour earth on my eyes! press maple boards to my white breast! I have no more need for my beauty!'
Katerina weeps and grieves; and the distance is all clouding with dust: old Captain Gorobets is galloping to the rescue.
X Wondrous is the Dnieper in calm weather, when freely and smoothly he races his full waters through forests and hills. No rippling, no roaring. You look and do not know if his majestic breadth is moving or not, and you fancy he is all molded of glass, as if a blue mirror roadway, of boundless width, of endless length, hovers and meanders over the green world. It is a delight then for the hot sun to look down from on high and plunge its rays into the chill of the glassy waters and for the coastal forests to be brightly reflected in them. Green-curled! they crowd to the waters together with the wildflowers and, bending down, gaze into them and cannot have enough of it, enough of admiring their own bright image, and they smile to it and greet it, nodding their branches. But into the middle of the Dnieper they dare not look: no one except the sun and the blue sky looks there. Rare is the bird that flies to the middle of the Dnieper! Magnificent! no river in the world can equal him. Wondrous is the Dnieper, too, on a warm summer night, when everything falls asleep-man, beast, and bird-and God alone grandly surveys heaven and earth and grandly shakes his robes. Stars pour from his robes. Stars burn and shine over the world, and all are reflected
