Briggs: Abandoned workmen drink and brawl.
Pevear and Volokhonsky: Street scenes before the French arrive.
Translation:
ХХIII.
In an unfinished house on Varvarka, downstairs of which was a drinking house, was heard drunk shouting and songs. On benches on tables, in a small, dirty room sat nine factory people. All of them were drunk, sweaty, with muddy eyes, straining and with wide open mouths, singing some song. They sang apart, with labor, with effort, obviously not for that they wanted to sing, but only so that to prove that they were drunk and taking a walk. One of them, a tall, blond little man in a clean, blue cloth coat stood above them. His face with a thin direct nose would have been beautiful, if it were not for the subtle, tucked, incessantly moving lips and dull and frowning, motionless eye. He stood above those that sang, and apparently imagining to himself something, solemnly and angularly waved above their heads his rolled up by the elbow white hand, the dirty fingers of which he unnaturally tried to spread out. His coat sleeve incessantly lowered, and a little carefully his left hand again rolled it up, as if something was especially major for this white, wiry, waving hand to be indispensably naked. In the middle of the song, at the canopy and on the porch was heard shouting fights and strokes. The tall one a little waved his hand.
— Quitting time! — he shouted imperatively. — Fight, guys! — and he, not ceasing to roll up his sleeve, got out to the porch.
The factory men went behind him. The factory men, drinkers in the tavern on this morning under a little leading high, had brought the official skin from the factories, and for this they were given wine. The blacksmiths from the neighboring forge, upon hearing the drinking in the tavern and believing that the tavern was broken, forcibly would have liked to break in to it. On the porch was tied the fight.
The official in the doorway fought with the blacksmith, and at that time as exited the factory men, the blacksmith ripped off from the official and fell face to pavement.
A different blacksmith pulled on the door, his breast leaning on the official.
The little one with the rolled up sleeve went stroked again at the face of the bursting in the door blacksmith and wildly shouted:
— Guys! Ours is beat!
At this time the first blacksmith rose from the earth, and scratching blood on his broken face, shouted in a crying voice:
— Guard! Killed!...A man killed! Brothers!...
— Ouch, Father, killed, death, a killed man! — screeched a woman, releasing from the neighboring gate. The crowd of people gathered about the bloody blacksmith.
— The little of you people robbed and took off his shirt, — said some voice, turning to the official— For what have you killed a man? Robber!
The little one’s, standing up on the porch, muddy eyes drove to that official, then to the blacksmiths, as would be thinking with whom he should fight.
— Murderer! — he suddenly shouted at the official. — Tie him up, guys!
— How again to tie such a one up! — shouted the official, brushing off from the pouncing on him people, and, ripping off from himself a hat, he threw it on the ground. As if this action had some mysteriously threatening matters, the factory men, surrounding the official, stopped in indecision.
— I order that, brother, you know very perfectly. I before privately reach you. You think, I will not reach? There are those who rob without being told! — screamed the official, raising his hat.
— And go, see you! And go... see you, — repeated one behind another to the official and the little one, and both together moved forward by the street. The bloody blacksmith was walking nearby with them. The factory men and outside people with speaking and screaming went behind them.
At the corner of Maroseyka, against many with locked shutters homes, on which was the signboard of the shoemaker masters, were standing with sad faces twenty shoemakers, thin, exhausted people in gowns and ragged coats.
— He should disappoint people! —spoke a lean artisan with a thin beard and frowning eyebrows. — But for what he sucked our blood and quit. He drove and drove us — all week. But now led to the very end, he himself left.
Seeing the people and the bloody man, the speaking artisan fell silent, and all the shoemakers with hasty curiosity joined to the moving crowd.
— Where are those people going?
— I know where, they are going to the chief.
— What but or in fact ours did not take power?
— But you thought so! See to what people speak.
Was heard questions and answers. The official, taking advantage of the increased crowd, from behind the people returned to his tavern.
The little one, not noticing the disappearing of the enemy official, swinging his naked hand, not stopping to speak, turned by that to himself the common attention. At him predominantly huddled people, assuming from him to get the approval of all the occupying issues.
— It shows order, the law shows in that the superiors are delivered! Whether it is so that I speak correctly? — spoke the little one, a little bit noticeably smiling.
— He thinks the superiors are not? We can’t without superiors? But whether they rob them.
— That is empty speak! — responded the crowd. — How again to so and throw Moscow! You in laughter have spoken, but you believed it. Whether a little of our troops are going. So let them! And in that the superiors. Without them, we listen to the people that beat, — they said, pointing at the little one.
At the walls of the China city, another small bunch of people surrounded a man in a frieze greatcoat, holding in his hands a paper.
— A decree, a decree is read! A decree is read! — was heard in the crowd and people gushed to the reader.
The person in a frieze greatcoat was reading a poster from the 31st of August. When the crowd surrounded him, he as would be embarrassed, but at the demand of the little one, close to him, he with an easier trembling in his voice started to read the first poster
"I will go to the lordly prince early tomorrow," he was reading. (The light! solemnly, with a smiling mouth and frowning eyebrows, repeated the little one), "so that to talk with him, act and to help the troops exterminate the villains; and we become with them in spirit"... continued the reader and stopping (Have seen him? triumphantly screamed the little one. He will give you all the distance to untie...) "to eradicate these guests the damned send; I will come backwards to dinner and take for the business, will complete it and the villains will separate."
The last words were read by the reader in perfect silence. The little one sadly lowered his head. It was obvious that no one got these last words. In particular the words: "I will come tomorrow to dinner" apparently even upset the reader and the listener. The understanding of the people was configured in a high harmony, but this was too simple and not necessary to understand; this was that very thing that everyone of them could and would say and that therefore could not be spoken in a decree outgoing from higher authorities.
All were standing in dull silence. The little one drove his lips and staggered.
—I would ask him!... Is this from himself?.. How again he begged!... But what does... he indicates... — suddenly was heard in the rear ranks of the crowd, and the common attention turned to the departing the area carriage of the police chief, accompanied by two horse dragoons.
The police chief, riding on this morning by the order of the count to burn the barges and by the occasion of these errands rescuing a big amount of money, located on him on this moment in his pocket, seeing the moving to him crowd of people, ordered to the coachman to stay.
— What is behind these people? — he shouted at the people, scattered and timidly approaching to the carriage. — What is behind these people? I ask you? — repeated the police chief, not receiving an answer.
— They, your nobleness, — said the instructive in a frieze greatcoat, — they, your nobility, by the announcement of the most radiant count, not sparing bellies, want to serve, but not that to riot, as said from the most radiant count...
— The count has not left, he is here, and a disposition about you will be, — said the police chief. — Go! — he said to the coachman. The crowd stopped, bunching about those that heard that what the superiors said and looked at the departing carriage.
The police chief in this time turned back scared turned, saying something to the coachman, and his horses went faster.
— Cheating, guys! Lead to the very one! — shouted the voice of the little one. — Do not let it go, guys! Let it go to report and serve! Hold! — screamed the voice, and the people running rushed behind the carriage.
The crowd behind the police chief with noisy speaking directed to Lubyanka.
— What, the gentlemen and merchants drove out, but we behind that disappear. What, whether we are dogs! — was heard more often in the crowd.
Mentioned: August 31st, to-morrow morning, to-morrow at dinner-time
Locations: Varvarka (Pevear and Volokhonsky add Street.), Moroseyka (Maroseika in Dunnigan and Pevear and Volokhonsky. Moroseika in Mandelker and Dole. Maroseyka in Garnett and Briggs. Bell just prints street.), Kitay-gorod (Garnett capitalizes gorod. Kitai Gorod in Dole (Bell and Pevear and Volokhonsky have the same, with a hyphen). China-Town in Maude and Mandelker (Briggs has the same, but doesn't capitalize Town). Chinatown in Dunnigan.), Lubyanka (Dunnigan and Mandelker add street.)
Mentioned: Moscow
Pevear and Volokhonsky Notes: We now flip to some drunken factory workers singing as we are in a run of chapters following normal people that only have tentative ties to the main characters. The factory workers join a fight between a landlord and some blacksmiths. This chapter really serves a strong political purpose for Tolstoy, as we see the different classes of people fighting with each other, arguing over what purpose the authorities serve, whether society can function without them, and the meaning of "good Christian people". Meanwhile, another person in the crowd reads an old Rostopchin poster. The police chief accidentally arrives on the scene and becomes frightened for the money he is carrying on him. The crowd follows him, puzzled that they have been left behind while the merchants and gentry left.
Characters (characters who do not appear, but are mentioned are placed in italics. First appearances are in Bold. First mentions are underlined. Final appearance denoted by *):
Rostopchin (Dole provides the name though other translations do not. Also "count".)
Kutuzof ("His serene highness the prince".)
Abridged Versions: End of chapter 17 in Bell.
Gibian: end of Chapter 11.
Fuller: Entire chapter is cut.
Komroff: Entire chapter is cut.
Kropotkin: Entire chapter is cut.
Bromfield: No apparent corresponding episode.
Simmons: entire chapter is cut.
Additional Notes:
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