Читать книгу The Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District - Nikolai Leskov - Страница 6

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For more than a week Zinovey Borisych did not return, and the whole time his wife spent every night, till the white dawn, with Sergei.

In those nights much happened in Zinovey Borisych's bedroom: wine from the father-in-law's cellar was drunk; dainty sweetmeats eaten; many kisses taken from the mistress's sugared lips, and black locks toyed with on the soft pillows. But not every road is smooth: some have ruts.

Boris Timofeich could not sleep. The old man in his coloured print shirt wandered about the quiet house; he went up to one window, went up to another, looked out, and saw Sergei in a red shirt quietly sliding down the column from his daughter-in-law's window. "What's this?"

Boris Timofeich hurried out and caught the young fellow by the leg. Sergei turned round wanting to give him a box on the ear, with his whole strength, but stopped, remembering the noise it would make.

"Tell me where you have been, you young thief?" said Boris Timofeich.

"Wherever it was, Boris Timofeich," said Sergei, "I am no longer there."

"Have you spent the night with my daughter-in-law?"

"Well, as to that, master, I know where I have passed the night; but, Boris Timofeich, listen to my words; what is done can't be undone, father. Don't disgrace your merchant's house by taking extreme measures. Tell me what you require of me now? What amends do you want?"

"You asp, I want to give you five hundred lashes," answered Boris Timofeich.

"As you will—it's my fault," agreed the young man. "Tell me where to go; do as you please—you may drink my blood."

Boris Timofeich took Sergei to his little stone store-room, and lashed him with his whip until he had no more strength. Sergei did not utter a groan, but instead he chewed half his shirt sleeve away.

Boris Timofeich left Sergei in the store-room for the bruises on his back to heal, gave him an earthen jug of water, locked the door with a great padlock, and sent for his son.

In Russia even now you can't drive fast over by-ways, and Katerina Lvovna could not live a single hour without Sergei. Her awakened nature had suddenly developed to its full breadth, and she had become so resolute that it was impossible to restrain her. She found out where Sergei was, talked with him through the iron door, and hurried away to look for the keys. "Daddy, let Sergei out," said she coming to her father-in-law.

The old man turned green. He had never expected such brazen-faced insolence from his erring daughter-in-law, who till then had always been obedient

"What do you mean, you——" and he began to revile Katerina Lvovna.

"Let him out," said she. "I can answer with a clear conscience that as yet nothing wrong has passed between us."

"No wrong has happened," said he, "and there he is grinding his teeth. What did you do with him at night there? Did you restuff your husband's pillows?"

But she only repeated the same words: "Let him out, let him out."

"If that is so," said Boris Timofeich, "this is what you shall have for reward: Your husband shall come, and we will take you, you honest wife, to the stable, and whip you with our own hands, and to-morrow that rascal shall be sent to prison."

This is what Boris Timofeich decided. His decision, however, was not carried out.