"Hark!--horses' hoofs stamping,[52] And harness-bells jangling-- Another misfortune! The children are frightened, They run to the houses; And outside the window The old men and women Are talking in whispers And nodding together. The Elder is running 110 And tapping each window In turn with his staff; Then he runs to the hayfields, He runs to the pastures, To summon the people. They come, full of sorrow-- Another misfortune! And God in His wrath Has sent guests that are hateful, Has sent unjust judges. 120 Perhaps they want money? Their coats are worn threadbare? Perhaps they are hungry? "Without greeting Christ They sit down at the table, They've set up an icon And cross in the middle; Our pope, Father John, Swears the witnesses singly. "They question Savyeli, 130 And then a policeman Is sent to find me, While the officer, swearing, Is striding about Like a beast in the forest.... 'Now, woman, confess it,' He cries when I enter, 'You lived with the peasant Savyeli in sin?' "I whisper in answer, 140 'Kind sir, you are joking. I am to my husband A wife without stain, And the peasant Savyeli Is more than a hundred Years old;--you can see it.' "He's stamping about Like a horse in the stable; In fury he's thumping His fist on the table. 150 'Be silent! Confess, then, That you with Savyeli Had plotted to murder Your child!' "Holy Mother! What horrible ravings! My God, give me patience, And let me not strangle The wicked blasphemer! I looked at the doctor 160 And shuddered in terror: Before him lay lancets, Sharp scissors, and knives. I conquered myself, For I knew why they lay there. I answer him trembling, 'I loved little Djoma, I would not have harmed him.' "'And did you not poison him. Give him some powder?' 170 "'Oh, Heaven forbid!' I kneel to him crying, 'Be gentle! Have mercy! And grant that my baby In honour be buried, Forbid them to thrust The cruel knives in his body! Oh, I am his mother!' "Can anything move them? No hearts they possess, 180 In their eyes is no conscience, No cross at their throats....