Only ideas, not words, have a firm power over society.
(V. G. Belinsky)

The literature of the 19th century is qualitatively different from the literature of the preceding "golden age". In 1955–1956 freedom-loving and freedom-realizing tendencies in literature are beginning to manifest themselves more and more actively. Piece of art is endowed with a special function: it must change the system of reference points, reshape consciousness. Sociality becomes important initial stage, and one of the main problems is the question of how society distorts a person. Of course, many writers in their works tried to solve the problem. For example, Dostoevsky writes "Poor People", in which he shows the poverty and hopelessness of the lower strata of the population. This aspect was also in the sphere of attention of playwrights. N. A. Ostrovsky in The Thunderstorm showed the cruel customs of the city of Kalinov quite clearly. The audience had to think about social problems, which were characteristic of the entire patriarchal Russia.

The situation in the city of Kalinov is quite typical for all provincial cities of Russia. half of XIX century. In Kalinov, you can recognize Nizhny Novgorod, the cities of the Volga region, and even Moscow. The phrase "cruel morals, sir" is pronounced in the first act by one of the main characters of the play and becomes the main motif associated with the theme of the city. Ostrovsky in The Thunderstorm makes Kuligin's monologue about cruel morals quite interesting in the context of Kuligin's other phrases in previous phenomena.

So, the play begins with a dialogue between Kudryash and Kuligin. Men talk about the beauty of nature. Curly does not consider the landscape to be something special, the external scenery means little to him. Kuligin, on the other hand, admires the beauty of the Volga: “Miracles, truly it must be said that miracles! Curly! Here, my brother, for fifty years I have been looking beyond the Volga every day and I can’t see enough”; “The view is extraordinary! Beauty! The soul rejoices." Then other characters appear on the stage, and the topic of conversation changes. Kuligin talks to Boris about life in Kalinovo. It turns out that life, in fact, is not here. Stagnation and stuffiness. This can be confirmed by the phrases of Boris and Katya that you can suffocate in Kalinovo. People seem to be deaf to the manifestation of discontent, and there are a lot of reasons for discontent. Basically, they are associated with social inequality. All the power of the city is concentrated only in the hands of those who have money. Kuligin talks about Dikoy. This is a rude and petty person. Wealth untied his hands, so the merchant believes that he has the right to decide who can live and who cannot. After all, many in the city are asking for a loan from Dikoy at huge interest, while they know that Dikoy, most likely, will not give this money. People tried to complain about the merchant to the mayor, but this also did not lead to anything - the mayor actually has absolutely no power. Savl Prokofievich allows himself insulting comments and swearing. More precisely, his speech is only this. He can be called marginal in the highest degree: Dikoy often drinks, is devoid of culture. The author's irony is that the merchant is materially rich and completely spiritually poor. It does not seem to have those qualities that make a person a person. At the same time, there are those who laugh at him. For example, a certain hussar who refused to comply with the request of the Wild. And Kudryash says that he is not afraid of this petty tyrant and can answer Diky for an insult.

Kuligin also talks about Marfa Kabanova. This rich widow "under the guise of piety" does cruel things. Her manipulation and treatment of the family can terrify any person. Kuligin characterizes her as follows: “she clothes the poor, but completely ate the household.” The characterization is quite accurate. The boar seems to be much more terrible than the Wild one. Her moral violence against loved ones never stops. And they are her children. With her upbringing, Kabanikha turned Tikhon into an adult infantile drunkard who would be glad to escape from mother's guardianship, but is afraid of her wrath. With his tantrums and humiliations, Kabanikha drives Katerina to suicide. At Kabanikhi a strong character. The bitter irony of the author is that patriarchal world run by a powerful and cruel woman.

It is in the first act that cruel morals are most clearly depicted. dark kingdom in "Thunderstorm". Terrifying pictures of social life are contrasted with the picturesque landscapes on the Volga. A social swamp and fences are opposed to space and freedom. Fences and bolts, behind which the inhabitants fenced off from the rest of the world, clogged up in the bank, and, executing lynching, arbitrarily rot from lack of air.

In The Thunderstorm, the cruel customs of the city of Kalinov are shown not only in a pair of characters of Kabanikh - Wild. In addition, the author introduces several more significant actors. Glasha, the servant of the Kabanovs, and Feklusha, designated by Ostrovsky as a wanderer, are discussing the life of the city. It seems to women that only here the old house-building traditions are still preserved, and the house of the Kabanovs is the last paradise on earth. The wanderer talks about the customs of other countries, calling them unfaithful, because there is no Christian faith there. People like Feklusha and Glasha deserve "bestial" treatment from merchants and philistines. After all, these people are hopelessly limited. They refuse to understand and accept anything if it is at odds with the familiar world. They feel good in that “bla-a-adati” that they have built for themselves. It's not that they refuse to see reality, but that reality is considered the norm.

Of course, the cruel customs of the city of Kalinov in "Thunderstorm", characteristic of society as a whole, are shown somewhat grotesquely. But thanks to such exaggeration and concentration of negativity, the author wanted to get a reaction from the public: people should realize that changes and reforms are inevitable. We must participate in the changes ourselves, otherwise this quagmire will grow to an incredible scale, when obsolete orders will subjugate everything to themselves, finally removing even the possibility of development.

The above description of the morals of the inhabitants of the city of Kalinov can be useful for 10 classes in preparing materials for an essay on the topic “Cruel morals of the city of Kalinov”.

Artwork test

Original:
Kuligin. And you'll never get used to it, sir.
Boris. From what?
Kuligin. Cruel morals, sir, in our city, cruel! In philistinism, sir, you will see nothing but rudeness and bare poverty. And we, sir, will never get out of this bark! Because honest labor will never earn us more daily bread. And whoever has money, sir, he tries to enslave the poor, so that for his free labors more money make money. Do you know what your uncle, Savel Prokofich, answered the mayor? The peasants came to the mayor to complain that he would not read any of them by the way. The mayor began to say to him: “Listen, he says, Savel Prokofich, you count the peasants well! Every day they come to me with a complaint!” Your uncle patted the mayor on the shoulder, and said: “Is it worth it, your honor, to talk about such trifles with you! A lot of people stay with me every year; you understand: I’ll underpay them for some penny per person, and I make thousands of this, so it’s good for me! That's how, sir! And among themselves, sir, how they live! They undermine each other's trade, and not so much out of self-interest, but out of envy. They quarrel with each other; they lure drunken clerks into their tall mansions, such, sir, clerks, that there is no human appearance on him, his human appearance is lost. And those to them, for a small blessing, on stamp sheets malicious slander scribble on their neighbors. And they will begin, sir, the court and the case, and there will be no end to the torment. They sue, they sue here, but they will go to the province, and there they are already waiting for them and splashing their hands with joy. Soon the fairy tale is told, but the deed is not soon done; lead them, lead them, drag them, drag them; and they are also happy with this dragging, that's all they need. “I, he says, will spend money, and it will become a penny for him.” I wanted to describe all this in verses ...

Arranged by A. Minnikaev

Cruel manners, sir, in our city. cruel
In philistinism, the world is ruled by people who are not at all distant
Full full of rudeness worse than in the life of the capital
You will not see anything but bare poverty.
You will never be able to get out of this bark:
Hope ... many have it, but only for the time being
All who are honest will not earn daily food,
And whoever has money in his pocket is the owner of the poor,
On whose labors he will drink hard and feast,
It is beautiful to live and make even more money.
To tell you how your wild uncle managed to answer,
Savel Prokofich looking with kind eyes to the mayor?

“Listen, brother, you calculate the peasants well.
Every day they come to me with complaints in a small way.
The answer is: should we talk about trifles with you.
They don’t need a penny, that five - I make capital

And among themselves, dear sir, how they live:
They tear their throats, they sell themselves, they strangle trade
They undermine each other, do not hide,
What war is coming from the edge of envy ... they successfully lure
In their high mansions of drunken clerks,
On which there is no human appearance, and such
That lost their appearance. On stamp sheets
Malicious slanders scribble on neighbors and relatives
They sue, they sue and there is no end to stupid disputes
The results of these processes, except for conversations,
How they will go to the province for the truth, an important thing
- They are waiting for them there, clapping their hands with joy.
Soon the fairy tale is being told, but the case is in a hurry
Not good: they are dragged like animal tails,
And they are happy about that, they bell unnecessarily ...
A very strange everyday life: “I will spend money - to speak
“Yes, he will become a penny”
... wanted to portray in verse

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Kuligin. Cruel morals, sir, in our city, cruel! In philistinism, sir, you will see nothing but rudeness and bare poverty. And we, sir, will never get out of this bark! Because honest labor will never earn us more daily bread. And whoever has money, sir, he tries to enslave the poor, so that he can make even more money from his free labors. Do you know what your uncle, Savel Prokofich, answered the mayor? The peasants came to the mayor to complain that he would not read any of them by the way. The mayor began to say to him: “Listen,” he says, “Savel Prokofich, you count the peasants well! Every day they come to me with a complaint!” Your uncle patted the mayor on the shoulder and said: “Is it worth it, your honor, to talk about such trifles with you! A lot of people stay with me every year; you understand: I won’t pay them a penny more per person, I make thousands of this, that’s how it is; I'm fine!" That's how, sir! And among themselves, sir, how they live! They undermine each other's trade, and not so much out of self-interest, but out of envy. They quarrel with each other; they lure drunken clerks into their tall mansions, such, sir, clerks, that there is no human appearance on him, his human appearance is lost. And those, for a small blessing, on stamp sheets, malicious slander scribble on their neighbors. And they will begin, sir, the court and the case, and there will be no end to the torment. They are suing, they are suing here and they will go to the province, and there they are already waiting for them and clapping their hands with joy. Soon the fairy tale is told, but the deed is not soon done; they lead them, they lead, they drag them, they drag them, and they are also happy with this dragging, that's all they need. “I,” he says, “will spend money, and it will become a penny for him.” I wanted to describe all this in verses ...

A. N. Ostrovsky. Storm. Play. Series 1

Boris. Are you good at poetry?

Kuligin. The old fashioned way, sir. After all, I read Lomonosov, Derzhavin ... Lomonosov was a wise man, a tester of nature ... But also from ours, from a simple title.

Boris. You would have written. It would be interesting.

Kuligin. How can you, sir! Eat, swallow alive. I already get it, sir, for my chatter; Yes, I can’t, I like to scatter the conversation! Here's more about family life I wanted to tell you, sir, yes some other time. And also something to listen to.

(Ostrovsky "Thunderstorm", act 1, phenomenon 3. See on our website

Cruel, sir, manners in our city

Quote from the play by Ostrovsky A.N. "Storm". These words are spoken by Kuligin (act. 1, yavl. 3).

“Boris. Eh, Kuligin, it’s painfully difficult for me here, without a habit. Everyone looks at me somehow wildly, as if I’m superfluous here, as if I’m interfering with them. I don’t know the customs here. I understand that all this is our Russian, native, but still I will not get used to it in any way.

Kuligin. And you'll never get used to it, sir.

Boris. From what?

Kuligin. Cruel morals, sir, in our city, cruel! In philistinism, sir, you will see nothing but rudeness and bare poverty. And we, sir, will never get out of this bark!

Because honest labor will never earn us more daily bread. And whoever has money, sir, he tries to enslave the poor, so that he can make even more money from his free labors.

Do you know what your uncle, Savel Prokofich, answered the mayor? The peasants came to the mayor to complain that he would not read any of them by the way. The mayor began to say to him:

“Listen,” he says, “Savel Prokofich, you count the peasants well! Every day they come to me with a complaint!”

Your uncle patted the mayor on the shoulder and said: “Is it worth it, your honor, to talk about such trifles with me! , I have thousands of this, so it is; I feel good!"

That's how, sir! And among themselves, sir, how they live! They undermine each other's trade, and not so much out of self-interest, but out of envy. They quarrel with each other; they lure drunken clerks into their tall mansions, such, sir, clerks, that there is no human appearance on him, his human appearance is lost.

And those, for a small blessing, on stamp sheets, malicious slander scribble on their neighbors. And they will begin, sir, the court and the case, and there will be no end to the torment. They are suing, they are suing here and they will go to the province, and there they are already expected and from, they splash their hands with joy. Soon the fairy tale is told, but the deed is not soon done; they lead them, they lead, they drag them, they drag them, and they are also happy with this dragging, that's all they need.

“I,” he says, “will spend money, and it will become a penny for him.” I wanted to describe all this in verses ... "

beam of light in dark kingdom

Quote from the article "A Ray of Light in the Dark Kingdom" by the publicist Nikolai Alexandrovich Dobrolyubov (1860), dedicated to the drama of Ostrovsky A.N. "Thunderstorm" (1859)

In the article main character of the play, Katerina, who committed suicide, was compared with a "beam of light" in the "dark kingdom" of ignorant tyrant merchants.

One loves watermelon, the other pork cartilage

Quote from Alexander Nikolaevich Ostrovsky's play "Dowry" (1878), words by Paratov:

"Larisa. We, Sergey Sergeyevich, are going to the village soon.

Paratov. From the beautiful places here?

Karandyshev. What do you find beautiful here?

Paratov. After all, it's like someone; for taste, there is no sample for color.

Ogudalova. True true. Who likes the city, and who likes the village.

Paratov. Aunty, everyone has their own taste: one likes watermelon, the other pork cartilage.

Ogudalova. Ah, the prankster! How do you know so many proverbs?

Paratov. I used to hang out with barge haulers, aunty, that's how you learn the Russian language.

Apparently this phrase was known before Ostrovsky wrote the play "Dowry".

For example, Saltykov-Shchedrin Mikhail Evgrafovich in Abroad, 3 writes: "The idea of ​​a commission is inevitably matched by the idea of ​​wrangling. One likes watermelon, another likes pork cartilage."

NOTEBOOK FOR PRACTICAL WORKS

ON THE ANALYSIS OF ARTISTIC TEXT

AND LEARNING BY MEMORY AND CLOSE TO THE TEXT

The play "Thunderstorm"

Monologues of Kuligin 1

Cruel morals, sir, in our city, cruel! In philistinism, sir, you will see nothing but rudeness and bare poverty. And we, sir, will never get out of this bark! Because honest labor will never earn us more daily bread. And whoever has money, sir, he tries to enslave the poor, so that he can make even more money on his free labors. Do you know what your uncle, Savel Prokofich, answered the mayor? The peasants came to the mayor to complain that he would not decipher any of them by the way. The mayor began to say to him: “Listen, he says, Savel Prokofich, you count the peasants well! Every day they come to me with a complaint!” Your uncle patted the mayor on the shoulder and said: “Is it worth it, your honor, to talk about such trifles with you! A lot of people stay with me every year; you understand: I won’t pay them a penny per person, but I make thousands of this, so it’s good for me! That's how, sir! And among themselves, sir, how they live! They undermine each other's trade, and not so much out of self-interest, but out of envy. They quarrel with each other; they lure drunken clerks into their tall mansions, such, sir, clerks, that there is no human appearance on him, his human appearance is lost. And those to them, for a small blessing, on stamp sheets malicious slander scribble on their neighbors. And they will begin, sir, the court and the case, and there will be no end to the torment. They sue, they sue here, but they will go to the province, and there they are already waiting for them and splashing their hands with joy. Soon the fairy tale is told, but not soon the deed is done: they are led, they are led, they are dragged, they are dragged; and they are also happy with this dragging, that's all they need. “I, he says, will spend money, and it will become a penny for him.” I wanted to describe all this in verses ...

Complete the following tasks:

1. Answer the questions in writing with a line from the proposed text.
2. Learn close to the text.

1. What could be earned by honest labor?

2. How did rich merchants make money?

3. What, without embarrassment, does Dikaya admit to the mayor?

4. What do drunken clerks do when a merchant takes them to his mansion?

Monologue 2

Kuligin: That's what, sir, we have a small town! They made a boulevard, but they don't walk. They walk only on holidays, and then they do one kind of walking, and they themselves go there to show their outfits. You will only meet a drunken clerk, trudging home from the tavern. There is no time for the poor to walk, sir, they have work day and night. And they sleep only three hours a day, And what do the rich do? Well, whatever, it seems, they do not walk, do not breathe fresh air? So no. Everyone has long gates, sir, bans and dogs lowered. Do you think they do business or pray to God? No, sir. And they don’t lock themselves up from thieves, but so that people don’t see how they eat their own home and tyrannize their families. And what tears flow behind these locks, invisible and inaudible! What can I say, sir! You can judge by yourself. And what, sir, behind these locks is the debauchery of the dark and drunkenness! And everything is sewn and covered - no one sees or knows anything, only God sees! You, he says, look at me in people and on the street, but you don’t care about my family; to this, he says, I have locks, yes constipation, and angry dogs. The family, they say, is a secret, a secret! We know these secrets! From these secrets, sir, he alone is cheerful, and the rest howl like a wolf. And what's the secret? Who does not know him! To rob orphans, relatives, nephews, to stab the household so that they would not dare to utter a word about anything that he does there. That's the whole secret. Well, God bless them! Do you know, sir, who walks with them? Young boys and girls. So these people steal an hour or two from sleep, well, they walk in pairs. Yes, here's a couple.

Complete the following tasks:

1. Answer the questions in writing with a line of text.
2. Learn close to the text.

Questions:

1. How do the poor live?
2. Why do the merchants lock the gates and let the dogs out?
3. What secret do merchants keep?

"Fathers and Sons"

I.S. Turgenev

Chapter 3

The places they passed through could not be called picturesque. The fields, all the fields, stretched all the way to the sky, now slightly rising, then lowering again; in some places one could see small forests and, dotted with sparse and low shrubs, ravines curled, reminding the eye of their own image on the ancient plans of Catherine's time. There were also rivers with open banks, and tiny ponds with thin dams, and villages with low huts under dark, often half-swept roofs, and crooked threshing sheds with walls woven from brushwood and yawning gates near the empty humens, and churches, sometimes brick with stucco that had fallen off in some places, then wooden ones with leaning crosses and devastated cemeteries. Arkady's heart sank little by little. As if on purpose, the peasants met all shabby, on bad nags; like beggars in tatters stood wayside willows with peeled bark and broken branches; emaciated, rough, as if gnawed, cows greedily plucked the grass in the ditches. It seemed that they had just escaped from someone's formidable, deadly claws - and, caused by the pitiful sight of exhausted animals, in the midst of a red spring day, a white ghost of a bleak, endless winter with its snowstorms, frosts and snows arose ... "No," thought Arkady , - this region is not rich, it does not strike with either contentment or hard work; it’s impossible, it’s impossible for him to stay like this, transformations are necessary ... but how to fulfill them, how to start? .. ”

Complete the following tasks:

1. Learn close to the text.

Questions:

1. What do the swept roofs, the threshing sheds with yawning gates, the empty threshing floors, the churches with peeling off plaster and leaning crosses say about?
2. What transformations did Russia need on the eve of the abolition of serfdom, in your opinion?

ON THE. Nekrasov

"Poet and Citizen"

Citizen

Listen: shame on you!

It's time to get up! You know yourself

What time has come;

In whom the sense of duty has not cooled down,

Who has an incorruptible heart,

In whom is talent, strength, accuracy,

Tom shouldn't sleep now...

Wake up: smash the vices boldly ...

It's a shame to sleep with your talent;

Even more ashamed in the hour of grief

The beauty of valleys, skies and seas

And sing sweet affection ...

The son cannot look calmly

On the mother's mountain,

There will be no worthy citizen

To the homeland cold soul -

He has no bitterer reproach ...

Go into the fire for the honor of the fatherland,

For conviction, for love,

Go and die flawlessly -

You will not die in vain: the matter is solid,

When blood flows under him ...

What is a citizen?

Fatherland worthy son. -

Oh! We will have merchants, cadets,

Philistines, officials, nobles,

Enough even for us poets,

But we need, we need citizens!

No disgust, no fear

I went to prison and to the place of execution,

I went to courts and hospitals.

I will not repeat what I saw there ...

I swear I honestly hated

I swear I truly loved!

And what? .. hearing my sounds,

They considered them black slander;

I had to fold my hands

Or pay with your head ...

What was to be done? recklessly

Blame people, blame fate...

Whenever I see a fight

I would fight, no matter how hard

But ... however, the main problem:

I'm young, I was young then!

Cunningly life beckoned forward,

Like free streams of the sea,

And affectionately promised love

I have my best blessings -

The soul retreated fearfully ...

But no matter how many reasons

I do not hide the bitter truth

And timidly bow my head

In a word: an honest citizen.

That fatal, vain flame

Until now, it burns the chest,

And I'm glad if someone

He will throw a stone at me with contempt.

Complete the following tasks:

Answer the questions in writing with a line from the text.

2. Memorize all passages.

Questions:

1. What time is the citizen talking about?
2. What is the purpose of a poet?
3. What is ashamed to do in a time of grief?
4. What is the citizen of the poet calling for?
5. Who can be called a citizen?
6. How does the poet explain his apostasy?

“Who is living well in Rus'?”

Yakim Nagoi lives
He works to death
Drinks half to death!” -

The peasants laughed
And they told the barin
What a guy Yakim.

Yakim, poor old man,
Lived once in St. Petersburg,
Yes, he ended up in jail.
I wanted to compete with the merchant!
Like a peeled Velcro,
He returned to his home
And took up the plow.
Since then, it's been roasting for thirty years
On the strip under the sun
Saved under the harrow
From frequent rain
Lives - messes with the plow,
And death will come to Yakimushka -
Like a clod of earth will fall off,
What is dried on the plow ...

There was a case with him: pictures
He bought his son
Hung them up on the walls
And I don't less than a boy
Loved to look at them.
God's disgrace has come
The village is on fire
And Yakimushka had
accumulated over a century
Ruble thirty-five.
Hurry to take a ruble,
And he first pictures
Began to tear off the wall;
Meanwhile his wife
fiddling with icons
And then the hut collapsed -
So blundered Yakim!
Merged into a lump of tselkoviki,
For that lump they give him
Eleven rubles...
“Oh brother Yakim! not cheap
The pictures are gone!
But in a new hut
Did you hang them up?”

Hung up - there are new ones, -
Yakim said - and fell silent.

The master looked at the plowman:
The chest is sunken; like a depressed
Stomach; at the eyes, at the mouth
Bends like cracks
On dry ground;
And himself on the ground - mother
He looks like: a brown neck,
Like a layer cut off with a plow,
brick face,
Hand - tree bark,
And hair is sand.

Complete the following tasks:

1. Answer the questions in writing with a line of text.

Questions:

1. Why did Yakim Nagoi end up in prison?
2. Why did Yakim, during a fire, save not rubles, but popular prints?

He had everything he needed
For happiness: and peace,
And money and honor
Honor enviable, true,
Not bought by money
Not fear: strict truth,
Mind and kindness!
Yes, I repeat to you
In vain you pass
He sits in prison ...-

"How so?"
- And the will of God!

Have any of you heard
How the patrimony rebelled
Landowner Obrubkov,
frightened province,
County Nedykhaniev,
The village of Stolbnyaki?..
How to write about fires
In the newspapers (I read them):
"remained unknown
The reason is the same here:
So far unknown
Neither the zemstvo police officer,
Nor the higher government
Not tetanus themselves,
What happened to the occasion.
And it turned out to be rubbish.
It took a military.
The Sovereign himself sent
He spoke to the people
That curse will try
And shoulders with epaulettes
Raise high
That kindness will try
And chest with royal crosses
In all four directions
Will start turning.
Yes, the scolding was superfluous here,
And the caress is incomprehensible:
Orthodox peasantry!
Mother Rus'! king-father!
And nothing more!
Having beaten enough
They wanted the soldiers
Command: fall!
Yes to the parish clerk
A happy thought came here
It's about Yermila Girin
The chief said:
- The people will believe Girin,
The people will listen to him ... -
"Call him alive!"

Complete the following tasks:

1. Answer the questions in writing with a line of text.

Questions:

1. What is needed for happiness?
2. How did Yermil behave during the rebellion of the patrimony, in your opinion, why did he end up in prison?

Saveliy, Holy Russian hero

Grandfather lived in a special room,
Didn't like families
He didn’t let me into his corner;
And she was angry, barking,
His "branded, convict"
He honored his own son.
Savely will not be angry.
He will go into his light,
Reads the holy calendar, is baptized,
And suddenly he will say cheerfully:
"Branded, but not a slave!"...

Had favorite words
And their grandfather released
A word in an hour.
"Dead... lost..."
“Oh, you, Aniki-warriors!
With old people, with women
You only have to fight!"
“Unbearable - the abyss!
Endure - the abyss! .. "

“Why are you, Savelyushka,
Called branded, convict?

I was a convict. -
"You, grandfather?"
- “I, granddaughter!
I'm in the land of the German Vogel
Khristyan Khristianych
Buried alive ... -

“And full! kidding, grandpa!"

No, I'm not kidding. Listen! -
And he told me everything.

In times of pre-school
We were also lords
Yes, but no landowners,
No German rulers
We didn't know then.
We did not rule corvee,
We didn't pay dues
And so, when it comes to judgment,
We will send once in three years. -

“But how is it, Savelyushka?”

And they were blessed
Such times.
There is a proverb,
What is our side
I've been looking for the devil for three years.
Dense forests all around,
Swamps all around.
Not a horse ride to us,
Not a foot pass!
Our landowner Shalashnikov
Through animal paths
With his regiment - he was a military man -
Tried to reach us
Yes, I turned the skis!
We are the local police
Didn't hit for the year, -
Those were the times!
And now - the master is at hand,
Road tablecloth-tablecloth...
Ugh! take her ashes!
We were only concerned
Bears... yes with bears
We got along easily.
With a knife and with a horn
I myself am scarier than the elk,
Along the reserved paths
I go: "My forest!" - I scream.
Once I got scared.
How did you step on sleepy
Bear in the forest.
And he didn't run away
And so planted a spear,
What is like on a spit
Chicken - spun
And did not live for an hour!
The back crunched at that time,
I hurt occasionally
While I was young
And succumbed to old age.
Isn't it true, Matryonushka,
On the eye 1 I look like? -

“You started, so tell me!
Well, you lived - you didn’t grieve,
What's next, head?

Shalashnikov time
Thought up a new thing
An order comes to us:
"Show up!" We didn't show up
Shut up, don't move
In his swamp.
There was a severe drought
The police came
We are a tribute to her - honey, fish!
Came back again
Threatening to straighten out with an escort,
We are animal skins!
And in the third - we are nothing!
Shoe old bast shoes,
They put on torn hats,
Thin Armenians -
And Koryozhina moved! ..
They came ... (In the provincial city
He stood with the Shalashnikov regiment.)
"Obrok!" - No quitrent!
The bread was not born,
Snowballs were not caught ... -
"Obrok!" - No quitrent! -
Didn't even speak:
"Hey, first change!" -
And he started beating us.

Tuga moshna korezhskaya!
Yes, racks and Shalashnikov:
Languages ​​are interfering
Brains are shattered
In the head - shit!
Fortified heroic,
Do not whip! .. There is nothing to do!
We shout: wait, give it time!
Onuchi we ripped
And the master of "lobanchikov" 2
Half caps were raised.

The fighter Shalashnikov subsided!
So-and-so bitter
He brought us an herbalist,
He himself drank with us, went nuts
With Koryoga conquered:
"Well, you've given up!
And that is God! - I decided
Skin you clean...
I would put on a drum
And gave a shelf!
Haha! haha! haha! haha!
(Laughs - glad to have a little idea):
That would be a drum!

Let's go home pissed off...
Two old men
Laughing... Ay, kruzhy!
Hundred-ruble notes
Home under cover
Untouched bear!
How we beggars rested -
So they got away with it!
I thought then:
“Well, okay! hell,
You won't get ahead
Laugh at me!"
And the rest felt ashamed
They worshiped the church:
“Forward we will not be ashamed,
We will die under the rods!

Liked by the landowner
Koryozhsky lobanchiki,
What a year - calls ... pulls ...

Excellently fought Shalashnikov,
And not so hot great
Earned income:
Weak people gave up
And the strong for the patrimony
They stood well.
I also endured
He hesitated, thinking:
"Whatever you do, son of a dog,
And you won't knock out your whole soul,
Leave something!
How will Shalashnikov accept tribute,
Let's go - and behind the outpost
Let's share the profits:
“What money is left!
You are a fool, Shalashnikov!”
And made fun of the master
Koryoga in your turn!
Those were the proud people!
And now give a crack -
Corrector, landowner
Drag the last penny!

But we lived as merchants ...

Suitable summer red
We are waiting for letters ... Came ...
And there is a notification
What Mr. Shalashnikov
Killed near Varna.
We did not regret
And a thought fell on my heart:
"Prosperity comes
Peasants' end!"
And that’s right: the unimaginable
The heir invented the remedy:
He sent a German to us.
Through dense forests
Through swampy swamps
On foot came, rogue!
One as a finger: cap
Yes, a cane, but in a cane
For fishing projectile.
And at first he was quiet:
"Pay what you can."
- We can't do anything! -
"I'll notify the gentleman."
- Notify! .. - That ended.
He began to live and live;
Ate more fish;
Sitting on the river with a fishing rod
Yes, he himself is on the nose,
Then on the forehead - bam yes bam!
We laughed: - You do not love
Koryogo mosquito...
Don't you love, dumbass? .. -
Rides along the coast
Cackles with a wild voice,
Like in a bath on a shelf ...

With guys, with girls
Befriended, wandering through the forest ...
No wonder he wandered!
"When you can't pay,
Work!” - What is your
Job? - "Dig in
Grooved desirable
Swamp ... "We dug ...
"Now cut down the forest..."
- OK then! - We cut
And the nemchura showed
Where to cut.
We look: a clearing is coming out!
How the clearing was cleared
To the swamp of the crossbar
He ordered to carry on it.
Well, in a word: we realized
How did you make the road
That the German caught us!

Went to town as a couple!
We look, lucky from the city
Boxes, mattresses;
Where did they come from
German barefoot
Kids and wife.
He took bread and salt with a police officer
And with other zemstvo authorities,
The yard is full of guests!

And then came the hardship
Koryozhsky peasant -
Ruined to the bone!
And he fought ... like Shalashnikov himself!
Yes, that one was simple; pounce
With all military strength,
Think it will kill you!
And sun the money, it will fall off,
Neither give nor take bloated
Tick ​​in a dog's ear.
The German has a dead grip:
Until they let the world go
Won't go away, sucks! -

"How did you endure, grandfather?"

And so we endured
That we are rich.
In that Russian heroism.
Do you think, Matryonushka,
The man is not a hero?
And his life is not military,
And death is not written for him
In battle - a hero!

Hands twisted with chains
Legs forged with iron
Back ... dense forests
Passed on it - broke.
And the chest? Elijah the prophet
Rattles on it - rides
On a chariot of fire...
The hero suffers everything!

And it bends, but does not break,
Doesn't break, doesn't fall...
Really not a hero?

"You're kidding jokes, grandpa! -
I said. - So-and-so
mighty hero,
Tea, the mice will bite!”

I don't know, Matryonushka.
For now, terrible cravings
He raised it,
Yes, he went into the ground up to his chest
With an effort! By his face
Not tears - blood flows!
I don't know, I can't imagine
What will happen? God knows!
And about myself I will say:
How the winter blizzards howled,
How old bones ached
I lay on the stove;
Lie down and think:
Where are you, power, gone?
What were you good for? -
Under rods, under sticks
Gone little by little! -

“And what about the German, grandfather?”

And no matter how the German ruled.
Yes, our axes
They lay - for the time being!

We endured eighteen years.
A German built a factory
He ordered to dig a well.
Nine of us dug,
Worked until half a day
We want to have breakfast.
A German comes: “Just something? ..”
And started us in our own way