Lo! and the sins of the anchorite Passed from his soul like a breath. "Let us pray God to incline to us, Slaves in the shadow of Death...." CHAPTER III OLD AND NEW Iona has finished. He crosses himself, And the people are silent. And then of a sudden The trader cries loudly In great irritation, "What's wrong with the ferry? A plague on the sluggards! Ho, ferry ahoy!" "You won't get the ferry 10 Till sunrise, for even In daytime they're frightened To cross: the boat's rotten! About Kudear, now--" "Ho, ferry ahoy!" He strides to his waggon. A cow is there tethered; He churlishly kicks her. His hens begin clucking; He shouts at them, "Silence!" 20 The calf, which is shifting About in the cart. Gets a crack on the forehead. He strikes the roan mare With the whip, and departing He makes for the Volga. The moon is now shining, It casts on the roadway A comical shadow, Which trots by his side. 30 "Oho!" says the Elder, "He thought himself able To fight, but discussion Is not in his line.... My brothers, how grievous The sins of the nobles!" "And yet not as great As the sin of the peasant," The carter cannot here Refrain from remarking. 40 "A plaguey old croaker!" Says Klim, spitting crossly; "Whatever arises The raven must fly To his own little brood! What is it, then, tell us, The sin of the peasant?" _The Sin of Gleb the Peasant_ A'miral Widower sailed on the sea, Steering his vessels a-sailing went he. 49 Once with the Turk a great battle he fought, His was the victory, gallantly bought. So to the hero as valour's reward Eight thousand souls[59] did the Empress award. A'miral Widower lived on his land Rich and content, till his end was at hand. As he lay dying this A'miral bold Handed his Elder a casket of gold. "See that thou cherish this casket," he said, "Keep it and open it when I am dead. There lies my will, and by it you will see Eight thousand souls are from serfdom set free." 61 Dead, on the table, the A'miral lies, A kinsman remote to the funeral hies. Buried! Forgotten! His relative soon Calls Gleb, the Elder, with him to commune. And, in a trice, by his cunning and skill, Learns of the casket, and terms of the will. Offers him riches and bliss unalloyed, Gives him his freedom,--the will is destroyed! Thus, by Gleb's longing for criminal gains, Eight thousand souls were left rotting in chains, 71 Aye, and their sons and their grandsons as well, Think, what a crowd were thrown back into Hell! God forgives all. Yes, but Judas's crime Ne'er will be pardoned till end of all time. Peasant, most infamous sinner of all, Endlessly grieve to atone for thy fall!