The Writings of Prosper Mérimée/Volume 5/The Hussar
THE HUSSAR Le Hussard From the Russian of Pushkin THE HUSSAR WITH his currycomb in hand, while grooming his horse, he muttered crossly below his breath:
"It is the devil himself who has given me this damn billet! Here they watch you as closely as if you were under sentence to be shot. They only give you cabbage soup, and as for liquor, well, there is no use expecting any—you can go and drink water.
"The master is like a tiger watching his prey, and the mistress . . . well, you just try to be attentive to her . . . and you'll see. Nothing has any effect on her, neither sentiment nor blows.
"Let me tell you about Kief! oh! that is a country for you! The pies just rain down on you, steaming hot; are you thirsty, why, here is the wine! And the women. . . Oh! the little rogues!
"Zounds! you would sell your soul for a look from one of those dark-eyed beauties. But they have one little fault, only one. . . ."
" And what is it, tell me, soldier."
He pulled at his long mustache and said: " You blockhead, begging your pardon, you think you know it all, but you are a green-horn and you never saw what I saw.
" Then listen. Our regiment was camping on the Dnieper. My landlady was a pretty good soul and her husband was dead — don't for- get that.
"We became great friends; we always agreed and life was very pleasant. When I beat her, Marousenka never even cried out. " When I got drunk, she put me to bed, and gave me some onion soup. If I just made a sign: 'Eh, old lady . . .' the old lady never said no.
"There was no quarrelling with her and I could have been very happy, but what did I do but become jealous of her. It was foolish, no doubt, but for the life of me, I could not help it.
"'Why,' I said to myself, 'does she get up at cock's crow? Who comes for her? Is she untrue to me, or is it the devil who takes her away?'
"I began watching her. One night I went to bed and pretended to sleep. The night was dark and stormy, not fit for a dog to be out. "I peeped at her. The old lady jumped out of bed softly and looked to see if I was asleep. I lay quiet, so she sat before the stove, and blow- ing on the red-hot coals, she lit a candle. She then -went to a shelf in the corner and brought down a small bottle. After taking off every stitch of clothing, she sat on the broomstick, took three swallows from the bottle . . . and immediately flew up the chimney and was gone.
"'Ha! ha!' I said on seeing this, 'and so the old lady is a witch? You just wait, my little dove.' I jmnped out of bed and made for the bottle.
" It smelled bitter. I threw two drops on the floor and the shovel and a pail both flew up the chimney. I thought : ' Now this is great!'
"I looked under the bench and there slept the cat. A drop or two on his back — how he did swear — ' Scat ! ' I said, and didn't the old cat follow the pail.
"After that, I sprinkled everything in sight, so much the worse for what I touched, and the saucepans, the seats and tables just galloped away up the chimney in the twinkling of an eye. "'The deuce,' I said, 'let us try it too.' I made one mouthful of the remaining liquid and
. . . you can beheve it or not as you like, in a second I was up in the air, as light as a feather.
"I flew faster than the wind—I had no idea of where I might be going, and had barely time to call out: 'Look out!' to the stars, when suddenly I felt myself coming down.
"I looked about and found I was on a mountain. All around were boiling caldrons; there were songs and games, and shrill whistles besides. Dirty trick, by Jove! they were marrying a Jew to a toad.
"I sputtered and was trying to speak to them, when Marousenka came up to me:
"'Quick, get home. What brought you here, you good-for-nothing? They will roast you alive if they see you!'
"But I would not budge.
"'Home? and how in the devil can I find my way?'
"'Ah! you are joking, surely. Here take this broomstick, sit on it and git, you scoundrel.'
"'Me, me sit on a broomstick! me, the Emperor's Hussar! You old hag! Do you think I have sold myself to the devil? And for you to dare speak to me like this, have you more than one life to spare?'
"'A horse?—then here, stupid, here is a horse.'
"And sure enough, there stood a horse hefore me. He pawed the ground and was eager to be off, his neck arched and his tail up in the air.
"I got on his back; I looked for the reins, but there were none. He started and galloped away and in no time I found myself before our stove.
"I looked about, everything was in its place. I was astride, not a horse, but an old bench. . . . And such are the things that happen in those countries."
He pulled at his mustache and ended with: "You blockhead, begging your pardon, you think you know it all, but you are a green-horn and you never saw what I saw."