"I managed him finely, The noble Pomyeshchick," 540 Said Klim to the peasants. "Be God with you, Barin! Go bragging and scolding, Don't think for a moment That we are now free And your servants no longer, But die as you lived, The almighty Pomyeshchick, To sound of our music, To songs of your slaves; 550 But only die quickly, And leave the poor peasants In peace. And now, brothers, Come, praise me and thank me! I've gladdened the commune. I shook in my shoes there Before the Pomyeshchick, For fear I should trip Or my tongue should betray me; And worse--I could hardly 560 Speak plain for my laughter! That eye! How it spins! And you look at it, thinking: 'But whither, my friend, Do you hurry so quickly? On some hasty errand Of yours, or another's? Perhaps with a pass From the Tsar--Little Father, You carry a message 570 From him.' I was standing And bursting with laughter! Well, I am a drunken And frivolous peasant, The rats in my corn-loft Are starving from hunger, My hut is quite bare, Yet I call God to witness That I would not take Such an office upon me 580 For ten hundred roubles Unless I were certain That he was the last, That I bore with his bluster To serve my own ends, Of my own will and pleasure." Old Vlasuchka sadly And thoughtfully answers, "How long, though, how long, though, Have we--not we only 590 But all Russian peasants-- Endured the Pomyeshchicks? And not for our pleasure, For money or fun, Not for two or three months, But for life. What has changed, though? Of what are we bragging? For still we are peasants." The peasants, half-tipsy, Congratulate Klimka. 600 "Hurrah! Let us toss him!" And now they are placing Old Widow Terentevna Next to her bridegroom, The little child Jockoff, Saluting them gaily. They're eating and drinking What's left on the table. Then romping and jesting They stay till the evening, 610 And only at nightfall Return to the village. And here they are met By some sobering tidings: The old Prince is dead. From the boat he was taken, They thought him asleep, But they found he was lifeless. The second stroke--while He was sleeping--had fallen! 620