The Fair at Sorochintsi

VIII

His tail between his legs like a dog,
Like Cain, trembling all over;
The snuff dropped from his nose.

KOTLYAREVSKY, The Aeneid

Everyone in the room was numb with horror. Tsibulya sat petrified with his mouth open; his eyes were bulging as if he wanted to shoot with them; his outspread fingers were frozen in the air. The tall hero, in overwhelming terror, leaped up and struck his head against the rafter; the boards shifted, and with a thud and a crash the priest’s son fell to the floor.

“Aie, aie, aie!” one of the party screamed desperately, flopping on the locker in alarm, and waving his arms and legs.

“Save me!” wailed another, hiding his head under a sheepskin.

Tsibulya, roused from his numbness by this second horror, crept shuddering under his wife’s skirts. The valiant hero crawled into the oven in spite of the narrowness of the opening, and closed the oven door on himself. And Cherevik, clapping a basin on his head instead of a cap, dashed to the door as though he had been scalded, and ran through the streets like a lunatic, not knowing where he was going; only weariness caused him to slacken his pace. His heart was thumping like an oil press; streams of perspiration rolled down him. He was on the point of sinking to the ground in exhaustion when all at once he heard someone running after him…. His breath failed him.

“The devil! The devil!” came a shout behind him, and all he felt was something falling with a thud on the top of him. Then his senses deserted him and, like the dread inmate of a narrow coffin, he remained lying dumb and motionless in the middle of the road.