At length, still mute, all move: one lifts--from where it steeps Redder each ruddy rag of pine--the head: two more Take up the dripping body: then, mute still as before, Move in a sort of march, march on till marching ends Opposite to the church; where halting,--who suspends, By its long hair, the thing, deposits in its place The piteous head: once more the body shows no trace Of harm done: there lies whole the Loùscha, maid and wife And mother, loved until this latest of her life. Then all sit on the bank of snow which bounds a space Kept free before the porch of judgment: just the place!
Presently all the souls, man, woman, child which make The village up, are found assembling for the sake Of what is to be done. The very Jews are there: A Gypsy-troop, though bound with horses for the Fair, Squats with the rest. Each heart with its conception seethes And simmers, but no tongue speaks: one may say,--none breathes.
Anon from out the church totters the Pope--the priest-- Hardly alive, so old, a hundred years at least. With him, the Commune's head, a hoary senior too, Stàrosta, that's his style,--like Equity Judge with you,-- Natural Jurisconsult: then, fenced about with furs, Pomeschik--Lord of the Land, who wields--and none demurs-- A power of life and death. They stoop, survey the corpse.
Then, straightened on his staff, the Stàrosta--the thorpe's Sagaciousest old man--hears what you just have heard, From Droug's first inrush, all, up to Ivàn's last word-- "God bade me act for him: I dared not disobey!"
Silence--the Pomeschik broke with "A wild wrong way Of righting wrong--if wrong there were, such wrath to rouse! Why was not law observed?
Ivàn Ivànovitch has done a deed that's named Murder by law and me: who doubts, may speak unblamed!"
All turned to the old Pope. "Ay, children, I am old-- How old, myself have got to know no longer. Rolled Quite round, my orb of life, from infancy to age, Seems passing back again to youth. A certain stage At least I reach, or dream I reach, where I discern Truer truths, laws behold more lawlike than we learn When first we set our foot to tread the course I trod With man to guide my steps: who leads me now is God. 'Your young men shall see visions:' and in my youth I saw And paid obedience to man's visionary law: 'Your old men shall dream dreams.' And, in my age, a hand Conducts me through the cloud round law to where I stand Firm on its base,--know cause, who, before, knew effect.