They're eating and drinking
What's left on the table.
Then romping and jesting
They stay till the evening, 610
And only at nightfall
Return to the village.
And here they are met
By some sobering tidings:
The old Prince is dead.
From the boat he was taken,
They thought him asleep,
But they found he was lifeless.
The second stroke--while
He was sleeping--had fallen! 620
The peasants are sobered,
They look at each other,
And silently cross themselves.
Then they breathe deeply;
And never before
Did the poor squalid village
Called "Ignorant-Duffers,"
Of Volost "Old-Dustmen,"
Draw such an intense
And unanimous breath.... 630
Their pleasure, however,
Was not very lasting,
Because with the death
Of the ancient Pomyeshchick,
The sweet-sounding words
Of his heirs and their bounties
Ceased also. Not even
A pick-me-up after
The yesterday's feast
Did they offer the peasants. 640
And as to the hayfields--
Till now is the law-suit
Proceeding between them,
The heirs and the peasants.
Old Vlasuchka was
By the peasants appointed
To plead in their name,
And he lives now in Moscow.
He went to St. Petersburg too,
But I don't think 650
That much can be done
For the cause of the peasants.
PART III.
THE PEASANT WOMAN
PROLOGUE
"Not only to men
Must we go with our question,
We'll ask of the women,"
The peasants decided.
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