Chapter 11

18521852

People :

Author : Leo Tolstoy

Translator : Leo Wiener

Text :

" What, died ? " Nekhlyudov asked, incredulously.

" She died from exertion, benefactor, as God is holy. We took her two years ago from Baburin," she continued, suddenly changing her angry expression to one of tearfulness and sadness. " She was a young, healthy, obedient woman, father. She had lived, as a maiden, in plenty, at her father's home, and had experienced no want ; but when she came to us, and had to do the work, — in the manor and at home, and everywhere — She and I, that was all there was. To me it did not matter much. I am used to it, but she was pregnant, and began to suffer ; and she worked all the while beyond her strength, until she, my dear girl, overworked herself. Last year, during St. Peter's Fast, she, to her misfortune, bore a boy, and there was no bread ; we barely managed to pick up something, father ; the hard work was on hand, and her breasts dried up. It was her first-born, there was no cow, and we are peasant people, and it is not for us to bring up children on the bottle ; and, of course, she was a foolish woman, and worried her life away. And when her baby died, she cried and cried from sorrow, and sobbed and sobbed, my darling, and there was want, and work, ever worse and worse ; she wore herself out all summer, and died, my darling, on the day of St. Mary's Intercession. It is he who has undone her, beast ! " She again turned to her son with the anger of despair. « I wanted to ask you, your Grace," she continued after a short silence, lowering her head, and bowing.

" What is it ? " Nekhlyudov asked absent-mindedly, still agitated by her recital.

" He is a young man yet. You can't expect much work from me ; to-day I am alive, to-morrow dead. How can he be without a wife ? He will not be a peasant, if he is not married. Have pity on us, father."

" That is, you want to marry him off ? Well ? "

"Do us this favor before God ! You are our father and mother."

She gave her son a sign, and both dropped on the ground before their master's feet.

" Why do you make these earth obeisances ? " said Nekhlyudov, angrily raising her by her shoulder. " Can't you tell it without doing so ? You know that I do not like it. Marry off your son, if you wish. I should be glad to hear that you have a bride in view."

The old woman rose, and began to wipe off her dry eyes with her sleeve. Davydka followed her example, and, having wiped his eyes with his dry fist, continued to stand in the same patient and subservient attitude as before, and to listen to what Arina was saying.

" There is a bride, why not ? Mikhey's Vasyiitka is a likely enough girl, but she will not marry him without your will."

" Does she not consent ? "

" No, benefactor, not if it comes to consenting."

" Well, then what is to be done ? I cannot compel her ; look for another girl, if not here, elsewhere ; I will buy her out, as long as she will give her own consent, but you can't marry by force. There is no law for that, and it would be a great sin."

" benefactor ! But is it likely that any girl would be willing to marry him, seeing our manner of life and poverty ? Even a soldier's wife would not wish to take upon herself such misery. What peasant will be willing to give his daughter to us ? The most desperate man will not give his. We are mendicants, and nothing else. They will say that we have starved one woman, and would do so with their daughter. Who will give his ? " she added, skeptically shaking her head. " Consider this, your Grace."

« But what can I do ? "

"Think of some plan for us, father !" Arina repeated, persuasively. " What are we to do ? "

" What plan can I find ? I can do nothing for you in this matter."

" Who will do something for us, if not you ? " said Arina, dropping her head, and waving her hands with an expression of sad perplexity.

" You have asked for grain, and I will order it to be given to you," said the master, after a short silence, during which Arina drew deep breaths and Davydka seconded her. « That is all I can do."

Nekhlyudov stepped into the vestibule. The woman and her son followed the master, bowing.


From : Wikisource.org.

Chronology :

November 30, 1851 : Chapter 11 -- Publication.

HTML file generated from :

http://revoltlib.com/