Some Masters so skilful There are, they will even Lay siege to the ladies. They first to the kitchens Make sure of admission, And then through the maids Gained access to the mistress. See, there he goes, strutting Along through the courtyard 60 And jingling the keys Of the house like a Barin. And soon he will spit In the teeth of the peasants; The pious old women, Who always before At the house have been welcome, He'll speedily banish. The people, however, Can see in these pilgrims 70 A good side as well. For, who begs the money For building the churches? And who keeps the convent's Collecting-box full? And many, though useless, Are perfectly harmless; But some are uncanny, One can't understand them: The people know Fóma, 80 With chains round his middle Some six stones in weight; How summer and winter He walks about barefoot, And constantly mutters Of Heaven knows what. His life, though, is godly: A stone for his pillow, A crust for his dinner.
The people know also 90 The old man, Nikífor, Adherent, most strange, Of the sect called "The Hiders." One day he appeared In Usólovo village Upbraiding the people For lack of religion, And calling them forth To the great virgin forest To seek for salvation. 100 The chief of police Of the district just happened To be in the village And heard his oration: "Ho! Question the madman!"
"Thou foe of Christ Jesus! Thou Antichrist's herald!" Nikífor retorts. The Elders are nudging him: "Now, then, be silent!" 110 He pays no attention. They drag him to prison. He stands in the waggon, Undauntedly chiding The chief of police, And loudly he cries To the people who follow him:
"Woe to you! Woe to you! Bondsmen, I mourn for you! Though you're in rags, e'en the rags shall be torn from you! Fiercely with knouts in the past did they mangle you: 120 Clutches of iron in the future will strangle you!"
The people are crossing Themselves. The Nachálnik[56] Is striking the prophet: "Remember the Judge Of Jerusalem, sinner!" The driver's so frightened The reins have escaped him, His hair stands on end....
And when will the people 130 Forget Yevressína, Miraculous widow? Let cholera only Break out in a village: At once like an envoy Of God she appears. She nurses and fosters And buries the peasants. The women adore her, They pray to her almost. 140