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Полное собрание сочинений в десяти томах. Том 6. Художественная проза - Николай Степанович Гумилев

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Полное собрание сочинений в десяти томах. Том 6. Художественная проза
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Полное собрание сочинений в десяти томах. Том 6. Художественная проза - Николай Степанович Гумилев

Полное собрание сочинений в десяти томах. Том 6. Художественная проза - Николай Степанович Гумилев краткое содержание

Полное собрание сочинений в десяти томах. Том 6. Художественная проза - Николай Степанович Гумилев - описание и краткое содержание, автор Николай Степанович Гумилев, читайте бесплатно онлайн на сайте электронной библиотеки My-Library.Info

В шестом томе Собрания сочинений Николая Степановича Гумилева собрана его художественная проза, воскрешающая в русской словесности XX века пушкинские традиции «прозы поэта». Повесть «Веселые братья» впервые публикуется в авторской сюжетной версии.

Полное собрание сочинений в десяти томах. Том 6. Художественная проза читать онлайн бесплатно

Полное собрание сочинений в десяти томах. Том 6. Художественная проза - читать книгу онлайн бесплатно, автор Николай Степанович Гумилев
она — спокойная и послушная с вечно сияющими, как в праздник, глазами.

Одна только тень нависла над их любовью — в образе Мити, ловкого парня с красным насмешливым ртом и черными, жесткими, как у грека или цыгана, волосами. Взялся он неизвестно откуда, попросился переночевать, целый вечер шушукался с Ваней, а потом и застрял. И стал Ваня после этой беседы сам не свой. Щеки его еще порозовели, глаза

автограф 3

The joyful brotherhood

In eastern Russia are nights when the full moon distils strange perfume from the rank grasses; when the — God knows what — toads and perhaps night birds cry in weird, wailing tones; when the shadows of the trees stir like dying giants. If at the same time a millstream rumbles noisily past and lovers whisper beneath your window, is not sleep impossible?

Mesentzeff found it so.

Ostensibly he had come to this far off village to collect peasant lores and songs; but in reality drawn by that desire to wander common to all town bred Russians. He had been awakened by a cockroach rustling horribly across his face and could not get to sleep again: so lay, held in the grasp of the unquiet night.

In the window whisperings he recognized the voices of Masha, his landlord’s daughter and of Vania, her betrothed, who worked at the mill as the miller’s adopted son. Mesentzeff had been encouraging the young couple’s courtship. He had given bright coloured ribbons to the girl and books to her lover. Accordingly he considered himself entitled to while away a few moments of sleeplessness by listening to their talk. Besides, what secrets could these children have?.. Vania the composer of hymns and sacred songs, curly and rosy cheeked as a Venezianov painting; and Masha, the gentle and obedient, with bright eyes and dark skin revealing her Tartar or Indian blood.

One shadow there was on their romance; a shadow thrown by the presence of another lad. Mitia was smart looking, sharp red-lipped and black haired like a Greek or Gipsy. No one knew where he came from when, on his first appearance, he had asked to be allowed to pass the night at the mill. All the evening he and Vania had whispered together in a comer. Eventually he stayed.

From that hour Vania became a different person. His cheek grew redder. His eyes shone more brilliantly. But he no longer worked so well. He became lazy and heedless and almost ceased making love to Masha.

When the newcomer was asked what province he came from and whether he had passports, he replied that he was a traveller and that for passport he carried a sharp blade in his hip pocket.

The police came to see him, but he made them drunk and sent them away unanswered.

«He’s not a man. He’s a disaster,» said the old miller and Mesentzeff agreed. Mitia ignored the townsman quite openly, parrying his questions with jokes which were sometimes offensive, but always witty. Mesentzeff knew too little of rural Russia as yet to be afraid of him; but the first words he caught from the window awoke his suspicions and made him listen more attentively.

«You are going away, won’t,» sighed Masha. «You are going away and you won’t say where?»

«You’re a funny lass. How can I tell you if it is a secret?»

«I know. I know. Mitia has led you astray.»

«Mitia is no worse than other people.»

«He is a vagabond, a highway robber.»

«If everyone was a highway robber like him, the devil wouldn’t dare go about the roads so freely as he does now.»

«So he fights the devil?»

«Now look ye, lass, you mustn’t cross examine me. All that I may, I’ll tell you of my own accord. The real fight has begun. God has been forgotten in the villages and in the towns are people who do not even believe in him. I know it is so; for I have read in their books that the world was not made in six days and that Adam and Eve never existed. Long ago when good men were more plentiful, folk who thought such things were burnt or put in prison. Only nowadays you can’t reach them. They are too high up. They are leaders, teachers of science; great generals. The good men have to take other ways. They have determined to act cleverly so as to bring the wicked to confusion. After all Satan is only cunning. He is not really clever. He falls into any trap set for him; and when his followers are beaten, we shall be able to say, «Look at your great men. They know nothing. They are as ignorant as new born babes.» And the devil will be forever ashamed.»

«What are you going to do then?»

«I shall have my place. I write songs and Mitia told me songs might be useful to the Joyful Brotherhood. Besides I know the works of the Holy Fathers thoroughly, which is also very necessary.»

«This is not a good undertaking.»

«It is too late to discuss that now. I have made up my mind. If you like, I’ll read you the poem I wrote today.»

«Do Vania! But speak gently. The gentleman is asleep overhead.»

Masha had lowered her voice and Mesentzeff felt rather ashamed of his eavesdropping. Vania began in a low, crooning voice:

«You are my angel» by the tone of her voice Masha was close to her beloved. «Go where you wish. Everything you do will be well done. I will wait for you like the princess in the fairy tale and you will surely come back. Such a love as mine must draw you home to me.»

«No, don’t wait for me, Masha. I will never come back to you,» was the quiet answer. «What is the use of my coming back? Mitia is your lover.»

«What did you say?»

«He told me so himself the day before yesterday. It was how he


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