Caucasian captive literary family. L.N. Tolstoy "Prisoner of the Caucasus": description, characters, analysis of the work

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"- a story (sometimes called a story) by Leo Tolstoy, telling about a Russian officer captured by the highlanders. Written for ABC, first published in 1872 in the magazine Zarya. One of the most popular works writer, reprinted many times and included in the school curriculum.

The title of the story is a reference to the title of Pushkin's poem "Prisoner of the Caucasus".

Story

The plot of the story is partly based on a real event that happened to Tolstoy during his service in the Caucasus in the 1850s. On June 23, 1853, he wrote in his diary: “I almost got captured, but in this case I behaved well, although too sensitive.” According to the memoirs of S. A. Bers, the writer’s brother-in-law,

Tolstoy's daughter talks about in this case as follows:

While actively compiling The ABC, Tolstoy wrote a story about a Caucasian prisoner. Sending the story to N. N. Strakhov in March 1872, Tolstoy noted:

The story “Prisoner of the Caucasus” was published in the magazine “Zarya” (1872, No. 2). It was included in the “Fourth Russian Reading Book,” published on November 1, 1872.

Tolstoy himself highly appreciated his story and mentioned it in his treatise “What is Art? " in the following context:

At the same time, he defines the “second kind” of good art there as “art that conveys the simplest everyday feelings, those that are accessible to all people of all ages.” peace - art worldwide."

Commenting on this treatise, the philosopher Lev Shestov notes that “...he actually perfectly understands that his “Caucasian Prisoner” or “God knows the truth, but will not soon tell” (only these two stories of all that he has written, belongs to He to good art) - will not have for readers the meaning that not only his great novels have - but even “The Death of Ivan Ilyich.”

Plot

The action takes place during the Caucasian War.

Officer Zhilin serves in the Caucasus. His mother sends a letter asking him to visit her, and Zhilin leaves the fortress along with the convoy. On the way, he overtakes the convoy and comes across several mounted “Tatars” (Muslim mountaineers), who shoot his horse and take him prisoner. Zhilin is brought to a mountain village, where he is sold to Abdul-Murat. The same owner turns out to have Zhilin’s colleague Kostylin, who was also caught by the Tatars. Abdul forces the officers to write letters home so that they can be ransomed. Zhilin indicates the wrong address on the letter, realizing that his mother still cannot collect the required amount.

Zhilin and Kostylin live in a barn; during the day they put pads on their feet. Zhilin makes dolls, attracting local children and, above all, Abdul’s 13-year-old daughter, Dina. While walking around the village and its surroundings, Zhilin wonders in which direction he can run back to the Russian fortress. At night he digs in the barn. Dina sometimes brings him flatbreads or pieces of lamb.

When Zhilin notices that the inhabitants of the village are alarmed because of the death of one of his fellow villagers in a battle with the Russians, he decides to escape. He and Kostylin crawl into a tunnel at night and try to get to the forest, and from there to the fortress. However, due to the slowness of the corpulent Kostylin, they do not have time to get there; the Tatars notice them and bring them back. Now they are put in a pit and the pads are not removed at night. Dina sometimes continues to bring food to Zilina.

Realizing that the mountaineers are afraid of the arrival of the Russians and could kill the prisoners, Zhilin one day, at nightfall, asks Dina to bring him a long stick, with the help of which he climbs out of the hole (the sick and soggy Kostylin remains behind). He tries to knock the lock off the blocks, but cannot do this, including with the help of Dina. Having made his way through the forest, at dawn Zhilin goes to the location of the Russian troops. Subsequently, Kostylin is ransomed from captivity.

Reviews

Film adaptations

• "Prisoner of the Caucasus " - classic film adaptation 1975 ; director Georgiy Kalatozishvili, in the role of Zhilin Yuri Nazarov

• "Prisoner of the Caucasus" - a 1996 film in which the motives of the story are used, but the action is moved during Chechen war 1990s; director Sergei Bodrov Sr. , in the role of Zhilin Sergei Bodrov Jr.

Audio performances

There are several audio versions of the story:

Vladimir Makanin's story “Prisoner of the Caucasus” (1994) in its title contains a reference to several works of Russian classics called “Prisoner of the Caucasus”, including Tolstoy’s story. Also in Makanin’s novel “Asan” (2008), dedicated to the events of the Chechen War of the 1990s, the main character’s name is Alexander Sergeevich Zhilin.

Notes

Links

• “Prisoner of the Caucasus” in the Collected Works of Leo Tolstoy in 22 volumes (“Russian Virtual Library”)

Wikimedia Foundation. 2010.

Basic information

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"- the second completed poem by Alexander Pushkin. The poem was written in 1820-1821. during the southern exile.
“Prisoner of the Caucasus” combines elements of descriptive (Pushkin planned to write descriptive poems about Crimea and the Caucasus) and plot romantic poem: the epic line (the Caucasus, the exotic life of the highlanders, the arrival of Russian conquerors) is intertwined with the lyrical line (the love of a captive Russian and a Circassian woman). For the first time Pushkin depicts romantic hero- contemporary. The poem gained enormous popularity, including causing many imitations. Poem of the same name(borrowing entire fragments of text from Pushkin) was written by 14-year-old Lermontov.

“Prisoner of the Caucasus” was significantly influenced by Byron’s poems - “Don Juan”, “The Bride of Abydos”, “The Giaour” - with French translations of which Pushkin became acquainted during his southern exile.

In the epilogue to this lyric poem Pushkin concerns military-political issues. There is no doubt that the romantic poet did not intend to glorify the aggressive policy of the Russian government. “The ardent Tsitsianov”, Kotlyarevsky, “the scourge of the Caucasus” Ermolov, from whose approach “the East rises to howl” - in them the young romantic looked for a living embodiment of the same ideal of the “romantic hero”, which, in his words, and “the horror of people and glory was worthy."

The romantic style created by Pushkin in “Prisoner of the Caucasus” for a long time became a model of the style of all romantic poems.

Despite Pushkin's critical statements about his poem, he still loved it. In the draft version of his letter to N.I. Gnedich dated April 29, 1822, we read: “You see that fatherly tenderness does not blind me about the “Prisoner of the Caucasus,” but I confess that I love him, without knowing why; "There are poems from my heart. My Circassian woman is dear to me, her love touches my soul." In 1829, in “Travel to Arzrum” he wrote: “Here I found a tattered list of “Caucasian Prisoner” and, I confess, re-read it with great pleasure. All this is weak, young, incomplete; but much is guessed and expressed correctly.”

"Prisoner of the Caucasus" is dedicated to N. N. Raevsky (son of the hero of the Patriotic War of 1812), to a close friend a young poet who supported him during the difficult events of the spring of 1820 that preceded his exile to the south. “You know our close connection,” Pushkin wrote about N. Raevsky to his brother, “and important services, forever unforgettable for me...” (letter dated September 24, 1820)

Page 1 of 4

Prisoner of the Caucasus (story)

1
One gentleman served as an officer in the Caucasus. His name was Zhilin.
One day he received a letter from home. His old mother writes to him: “I have become old, and I want to see my beloved son before I die. Come say goodbye to me, bury me, and then with God, go back to the service. And I have found a bride for you: she is smart, and good, and has property. If you fall in love, maybe you’ll get married and stay completely.”
Zhilin thought about it: “Indeed, the old woman has become really bad; maybe you won’t have to see it. go; and if the bride is good, you can get married.”
He went to the colonel, straightened out his leave, said goodbye to his comrades, gave his soldiers four buckets of vodka as a farewell, and got ready to leave.
There was a war in the Caucasus at that time. There was no passage on the roads either day or night. As soon as any of the Russians leave or move away from the fortress, the Tatars will either kill them or take them to the mountains. And it was customary that escorted soldiers walked from fortress to fortress twice a week. Soldiers walk in front and behind, and people ride in the middle.
It was summer. At dawn the convoys gathered for the fortress, the accompanying soldiers came out and set off along the road. Zhilin was riding on horseback, and the cart with his things was in the wagon train.
It was twenty-five miles to go. The convoy walked quietly; Then the soldiers will stop, then someone’s wheel will come off in the wagon train, or a horse will stop, and everyone will stand there, waiting.
The sun had already set for half a day, and the convoy had only covered half the road. Dust, heat, the sun is so hot, but there is nowhere to hide. Bare steppe, not a tree or bush along the road.
Zhilin rode forward, stopped and waited for the convoy to arrive. He hears a horn playing behind him, and stands again. Zhilin thought: “Shouldn’t I leave alone, without soldiers? The horse under me is good, even if I attack the Tatars, I will gallop away. Or not to go?..”
He stopped and thought. And another officer, Kostylin, with a gun, rides up to him on a horse and says:
- Let's go, Zhilin, alone. There’s no urine, I’m hungry, and it’s hot. At least squeeze my shirt out. - And Kostylin is an overweight, fat man, all red, and the sweat just pours from him.
Zhilin thought and said:
- Is the gun loaded?
- Charged.
- Well, then let's go. The only agreement is not to leave.
And they drove forward along the road. They drive along the steppe, talk and look around. You can see far all around.
As soon as the steppe ended, the road went between two mountains into a gorge, Zhilin said:
“We need to go out onto the mountain and have a look, otherwise they’ll probably jump out from behind the mountain and you won’t see it.”
And Kostylin says:
- What to watch? Let's go forward.
Zhilin did not listen to him.
“No,” he says, “you wait below, and I’ll just take a look.”
And he turned his horse to the left, up the mountain. The horse near Zhilin was a hunting horse (he paid a hundred rubles for it in the herd as a foal and rode it out himself); how she carried him up the steep slope on wings. As soon as he jumped out, lo and behold, in front of him, on a tithe of space, there were about thirty Tatars standing on horseback.
He saw it and began to turn back; and the Tatars saw him, rushed towards him, and at a gallop they grabbed their guns from their cases. Zhilin set off at full speed and shouted to Kostylin:
- Take out the gun! - and he thinks to his horse: “Mother, take it out, don’t catch your foot, you’ll stumble and you’ll be lost.” If I get to the gun, I won’t give in to them.”
And Kostylin, instead of waiting, as soon as he saw the Tatars, he rolled as fast as he could towards the fortress. The horse is fried with a whip, first from one side, then from the other. Only in the dust can you see the horse wagging its tail.
Zhilin sees that things are bad. The gun is gone, you can’t do anything with one checker. He let the horse go back to the soldiers - he thought about leaving. He sees six people rolling across him.
Under him the horse is kind, and under those they are even kinder, and they even gallop across. He began to turn around, wanted to turn back, but the horse was already running wild, he couldn’t hold it, he was flying straight at them.
He sees a Tatar on a gray horse approaching him with a red beard. Squeals, teeth bared, gun at the ready.
“Well,” Zhilin thinks, “I know you devils, if they take you alive, put you in a pit, and flog you with a whip. I won’t give in alive.”
And Zhilin, although small in stature, was brave. He grabbed his saber, launched his horse straight at the Red Tatar, and thought: “I’ll either knock him down with the horse or cut him down with the saber.”
Zhilin couldn’t get enough space to get on the horse, they shot at him from behind with guns and hit the horse. The horse hit the ground with all its might and fell on Zilina’s leg.
He wanted to get up, but two stinking Tatars were sitting on him, twisting his arms back. He rushed, threw off the Tatars, and three people jumped off their horses and started beating him on the head with rifle butts. His vision grew dim and he staggered. The Tatars grabbed him, removed the spare girths from the saddles, twisted his arms behind his back, tied him with a Tatar knot, and dragged him to the saddle. They knocked off his hat, pulled off his boots, ransacked everything, took out his money, his watch, and tore up his dress.
Zhilin looked back at his horse. She, my dear, fell on her side and lies there, only kicking her legs, not reaching the ground; there is a hole in the head, and black blood is whistling from the hole - the dust has moistened an arshin all around.
One Tatar approached the horse and began to remove the saddle. She keeps fighting,” he took out a dagger and cut her throat. It whistled from the throat, fluttered - and the steam was gone.
The Tatars took off the saddle and harness. The Tatar with a red beard sat on the horse, and the others lifted Zhilin into the saddle; and so as not to fall, they pulled him with a belt to the Tatar and took him to the mountains.
Zhilin sits behind the Tatar, sways, rubs his face into the stinking Tatar back. All he sees in front of him is a hefty Tatar back, a sinewy neck, and the shaved back of his head turning blue under his hat. Zhilin’s head is broken, blood is caked above his eyes. And he can neither recover on horseback nor wipe off the blood. My arms are twisted so tightly that my collarbone ache.
They drove for a long time from mountain to mountain, forded a river, drove out onto the road and drove through a ravine.
Zhilin wanted to notice the road where he was being taken, but his eyes were smeared with blood, but he couldn’t turn around.
It began to get dark. We crossed another river, began to climb a stone mountain, there was a smell of smoke, and dogs began to bark.
We arrived at the village. The Tatars got off their horses, the Tatar boys gathered, surrounded Zhilin, squealed, rejoiced, and began to shoot stones at him.
The Tatar drove the guys away, took Zhilin off his horse and called to the worker. A Nogai man came with high cheekbones, wearing only a shirt. The shirt is torn, the whole chest is bare. The Tatar ordered something to him.
The worker brought a block: two oak blocks were mounted on iron rings, and in one ring there was a punch and a lock.
They untied Zilina’s hands, put him in a shoe and led him to the barn; They pushed him there and locked the door. Zhilin fell on the manure. He lay down, felt in the dark, where it was softer, and lay down.

2
Zhilin did not sleep almost all that night. The nights were short. He sees that the crack has begun to glow. Zhilin got up, dug out a larger crack, and began to look.
He can see the road from the crack - it goes downhill, to the right is a Tatar hut, two trees next to it. A black dog lies on the threshold, a goat with kids walks around, their tails twitching. He sees a young Tatar woman coming from under the mountain, wearing a colored shirt, a belt, pants and boots, her head covered with a caftan, and on her head a large tin jug of water. He walks, his back trembles, he bends over, and the Tatar girl leads the shaven man in only a shirt by the hand. The Tatar woman went into the hut with water, the Tatar from yesterday came out with a red beard, wearing a silk beshmet, a silver dagger on his belt, and shoes on his bare feet. On the head is a tall, black, lamb’s hat, folded back. He came out, stretched, and stroked his red beard. He stood there, said something to the worker, and went somewhere.
Then two guys rode on horseback to a watering hole. Horses snore wetly. More boys ran out, shaven, wearing only shirts, without trousers, gathered in a group, went up to the barn, took a twig and stuck it in the crack. Zhilin howled at them: the guys screamed and started running away, only their bare knees shining.
But Zhilin is thirsty, his throat is dry; thinks: “If only they would come and visit.” He hears the barn being unlocked. The Red Tatar came, and with him another, shorter, blackish. The eyes are black, light, ruddy, the beard is small, trimmed; The face is cheerful, everything is laughing. The blackish one is dressed even better: a blue silk beshmet, trimmed with braid. The dagger on the belt is large, silver; The shoes are red, morocco, also trimmed with silver. And on the thin shoes there are other, thick shoes. The hat is tall, white lambskin.
The Red Tatar entered, said something, as if he was swearing, and stood, leaned his elbows on the ceiling, moving his dagger, like a wolf looking sideways at Zhilin. And the blackish one - fast, lively, so he walks all on springs - walked straight up to Zhilin, squatted down, bared his teeth, patted him on the shoulder, began to babble something often, often in his own way, winks with his eyes, clicks his tongue, keeps saying everything. :
- Good Urus! Nice Urus!
Zhilin did not understand anything and said:
- Give me some water to drink!
Black laughs.
“Korosh Urus,” he babbles in his own way.
Zhilin indicated with his lips and hands that they give him a drink.

In a big village, under the mountain,
Near the sakleys, smoky and simple
Circassians late at times
Sitting - about daring horses
They start talking about well-aimed arrows,
About the villages they devastated,
And how the Cossack fought with them,
And how the Russians were attacked,
How they were captured and defeated.
10 They smoke their tobacco carelessly,
And the smoke, curling, flies over them,
Or, having knocked with their sabers,
The song of the mountaineers will be sung loudly.
Others sit on horses,
But before we part,
They shake hands with each other.

2

Meanwhile, young Circassian women
Run up steep mountains
And they look into the distance into the darkness - but the dust
20 Lying calmly along the road,
And the feather grass does not move,
There is no noise or alarm.
There the Terek circles from afar,
Flows between desert rocks
And irrigates with unsteady foam
Highland; the forest is silent;
Only occasionally the deer is shy
Will run through the desert,
Or a herd of playful horses
30 The silence of the valley will outrage.

3

There was a patterned carpet of flowers
Over that mountain and over the hills,
The mountain stream sparkled below
And flowed streamily over the flints...
Circassian women ran to him,
They washed with clean water.
With the simple laughter of youth
Others on the transparent bottom
Dear rings were thrown;
40 And to your thick hair
Spring flowers were woven;
We looked into the mirror of the waters,
And their faces trembled in it.
Weaving into a quiet round dance,
Eastern songs were sung,
And near the village under the mountain
We sat in a playful crowd,
And the sounds of an arbitrary song
The gorges echoed involuntarily.

4

50 The last golden ray of the sun
It burns out on the silver ice,
And Elborus as his head
It covers him like a cloud.
..........
The mooing of herds was already heard
And the neighing of merry herds;
They are coming back from the fields...
But what is that sound of heavy chains?
Why the sadness of these shepherds?
Alas! then the young captives,
60 Having lost golden years,
In the desert of the mountains, in the depths of the forests,
Near the Terek they graze sadly
Circassian fat herds,
Remembering what happened
And that will never happen!
How happiness caressed them in vain,
How it finally left
And how it became a dream!..
And there are no compassionate hearts for them!
70 They are in chains, they are slaves!
Everything merged like in a muddy dream,
Without feeling the soul, he
They can already see the coffin before their eyes.
Unhappy ones! In a foreign land!
The hearts of hope have disappeared;
In some tears, in only suffering
They see their joy.

5

There is no hope for them to return,
But my heart inevitably races
80 To the native land. They are soul
We were drowning in a fatal thought.
..........
But the dust rose over the hills
From herds and greyhound herds;
They take tired steps
They're going home. Barking faithful dogs
It was not heard around the village;
Noisy nature fell asleep;
You can only hear the maidens from afar
The tune is sad. The mountains echo
90 And he is gentle, like a choir of birds,
Like the sound of a welcoming stream:

SONG

‎ Like a strong thunderstorm
‎ The pine tree will suddenly bend;
‎ Pierced by an arrow,
‎ Like a lion roars, -
‎ So Russian in the middle of battle
‎ He will fall before ours,
‎ And with a bold hand
‎ The Chechen will take
‎ 100 Golden armor
‎ And a steel saber
‎ And he will go to the mountains.

‎ Not a horse, animated
‎ Military pipe,
‎ Neither the barbarian, confused
‎ Sudden struggle,
‎ It doesn’t tremble more fearfully,
‎ When suddenly it starts to shine
‎ Fatal dagger.

110 The prisoners listened sadly
This sad song is for them,
And my heart ached terribly in sadness...
The Circassians lead them to the sakla;
And tied at the fence,
Gone. The fire crackles between them,
But sleep does not close their gaze,
They cannot forget the sorrow of the day.

6

The month is pouring with languid radiance.
The brave Circassians do not sleep,
120 They have a noisy meeting:
They want to attack the Russians.
There are saddled horses around,
Silver armor shines,
Each one has a bow, a dagger, a quiver
And a saber on the inlaid belts,
Two pistols and a lasso,
Gun; and in burkas, in black hats,
Young and old are ready for the raid,
And the tramp of herds is heard.
130 Suddenly dust rose above the mountains,
And a knock is heard from afar.
Circassians look: between the bushes
Girey is visible, a rider!

7

He forced with a mighty hand
He pushed the horse with his foot,
And a flying lasso dragged him along
Take the young prisoner with you.
Girey approached - with a rope
A Russian was tied up, barely alive,
140 The Circassian jumped down with a deft hand
Cut the rope; but he
Lying on a stone - death dream
Flew over the young head...
..........
The Circassians are already jumping - just
They hid behind a steep mountain,
The midnight hour strikes a lesson.

8

From death only out of regret
The young Russian was saved
They took him to his comrades.
150 Forgetting about your torment,
They, without retreating away,
We sat next to him all night...
..........
And a pale face, washed in blood,
It burned in his cheeks - he barely breathed
And, doused with mortal cold,
He lay stretched out on the grass.

9

It’s already midday, right above the village,
At a light blue height,
He shone in his usual beauty.
160 Merged with a lingering hum
Circassian herds - over the hills
The breath of nimble winds,
And the murmur of mountain streams,
And the singing of birds in the bushes.
Caucasian peak ridge
Pierced the blue of the sky,
And the dense forest fledged
Its jagged rapids.
Surrounded by degrees of mountains,
170 The patterned carpet blossomed;
There under the hundred-year-old oak trees,
In the shadows, bound in chains,
Our prisoner was lying on the grass.
Bowing in tears to the young head,
Companions of his misfortune
They tried to revive it with water.
(But ah! lost happiness
Nobody could return it.)
...........
So he sighed and stood up,
180 And his gaze was already opening!
Here he looked!.. trembled.
...He is with unforgotten friends! -
He flared up and rattled his chains.
The terrible sound says it all!!
The unfortunate man burst into tears,
Fell on the chest of his comrades
And he cried and sobbed bitterly.

10

Happy still: his torment
Friends are ready to share
190 And cry and suffer together...
But who is this consolation?
Deprived of tears and troubles in this life,
Who is in the bloom of his young ardent years
Deprived of what flattered the heart,
How happiness beckoned from afar...
And if the years have taken away
It's time to look for flowers, as before,
A moment of joy in hope, -
Let him not live on earth.

11

200 So my prisoner is with his native country
I said “sorry” almost forever!
Tormented by a past dream,
I remembered her places:
Where did he spend his golden youth?
Where I experienced the sweetness of life,
Where I loved a lot of sweet things,
Where I knew fun and suffering,
Where did he, unfortunate, destroy
Holy hearts of hope...
..........

12

210 He heard the word “forever!”
And, doomed by a heavy fate,
He was almost friends with captivity.
Sometimes with friends
He tended Circassian herds.
He looked at them like avalanches
They roll down the mountains and make such noise;
They glisten like snowy lava,
How they cover the valleys;
Although he was bound in chains,
220 But I often went to Terek.
And he listened to the waves howl,
The soles of gloomy rocks are digging,
Flowing among wilds and forests...
Looked like in the height of the hills
The guard lights are shining
And how the Cossacks are around them
They look at the muddy current of the river,
Leaning on the battle spears.
Oh! how he wished he could be there,
230 But the chain made it difficult to swim across.

13

When is noon overhead?
Burned in the rays, then my prisoner
I sat in a cave, where from the heat
He could have gone into hiding. Under the mountain
There were herds of people walking around. were lying
There are other shepherds in the shadows,
In the bushes, in the grass and near the river,
In which the thirst was quenched...
And there my prisoner looks:
240 How sometimes an eagle flies
He spreads his wings in the wind
And, seeing victims between the bushes,
The claws suddenly grab - and again
He lifts them up with a scream...
"So! - he thought. - I'm the victim
Which they took as food."

14

He looked just like the bushes
Or the blue steppe, through the mountains,
Saigas, with fast legs,
250 Over sharp stones, over flints,
They fly, despising the rapids...
Or like a deer and a young doe,
Hearing birds singing in the bushes,
From the rocks, without moving, they listen -
And then suddenly they disappear
Whirling up sand and ashes.

15

Watched the mountaineers rush to battle
Or they gallop boldly over the river;
Stopped - horses
1260 They push with a bold foot...
And suddenly, falling to his bow,
They flash near the shores,
They rush - and, galloping again,
Falling headlong from a cliff
AND...
... disappear noisily in the spray -
Then they swim and reach
Already opposite shores,
They are already there in the darkness of the forests
They are hiding themselves from the Cossacks...
270 Where are you looking, Cossacks?
Look, the waves are by the river
They turned white with gray foam!
Look, the corvids are on the oak trees
They perked up and flew away,
They disappeared screaming into the hills!
Circassians lasso the traveler
They will lure you into their gorges...
And, hidden by the night fog,
The shackles will cause death to you.

16

280 And often, driving away sleep,
In the dead of midnight he looks,
Like sometimes the Circassians through the Terek
Sails on a faithful tuluk, -
The waves are raging on the river,
The distant shore is visible in the fog,
They hang all around on a stump in front of him
His weapons are steel:
Quiver, bow, battle arrows,
And the saber is sharp, with a belt
290 Tied, ringing on it.
He flashes like a dot in the waves,
It suddenly appears, then disappears...
Here he landed on the shores.
Trouble for the careless Cossacks!
They will never see their native Don,
Don't hear the bells ringing!
Already a Chechen under the mountain,
The iron chain mail shines,
The bow is ringing, the arrow is trembling,
300 The fatal blow is coming!...
Cossack! Cossack! alas, unfortunate one!
Why did the villain kill you?
Why is your lead dangerous?
Didn't he get hit so quickly?..

17

So my poor captive sadly,
Even though he himself is under the burden of shackles,
I watched the death of the Cossacks.
When did the midnight light
He rises, he is near the fence
310 Lies in the village - quiet sleep
Only rarely closes his eyes.
With friends - remembers
About that dear native country,
Sad, but more than that...
Leaving there a lovely pledge,
Freedom, happiness, that I loved,
He set off into an unknown land,
And... he destroyed everything in the region.

PART TWO

18

One day, while deep in a dream,
320 Sometimes he sat late;
On a dark vault without radiance
The colorless month is young
Stood and the beam was trembling, pale
Lying on the green hills,
And the shadows of shaky trees,
Like ghosts on the poor roof
The Circassian sakla lay down.
The fire has already been lit in her, -
Blushing, he, in the copper lamp,
330 A little light illuminated the large fence...
Everything is asleep: the hills, the river and the forest.

19

But who flashes in the shadows of the night?
Who is a light shadow between the bushes
He comes closer, steps a little,
Getting closer... closer... across the ditch
Walking with wandering feet?..
Suddenly he sees in front of him:
With a silent smile of pity
There is a young Circassian!
340 Gives with a caring hand
Cool bread and kumiss,
Kneeling before him.
And her gaze depicted
An impulse of the soul, as if in confusion.
But the Russian prisoner took the food
And he thanked her with a sign.

20

And for a long, long time, like a mute,
There was a young maiden standing.
And the look seemed to say:
350 “Comfort yourself, dear slave;
You haven’t ruined everything yet.”
And the sigh is not heavy, but sad
Young sounded in his chest.
Then through the shaft it is steep
I went home along the mossy path
And suddenly disappeared into the shadowy distance,
Like some kind of grave ghost.
And only the virgins veil
Even my eyes flashed in the distance,
360 And for a long, long time my prisoner
I looked after her - she disappeared.
He thought: but why
Unfortunately for me she
Bowed down with such pity?
He didn't close his eyes all night;
I fell asleep an hour before dawn.

21

I went to see him on the fourth night
She also brought food
But the prisoner often remained silent,
370 I didn’t listen to the sad words.
Oh! a heart full of excitement,
I shunned new impressions -
He didn't want to love her.
And what joys are there in a foreign land?
In his captivity, in his fate?
He couldn't forget the past...
He wanted to be grateful
But the hot heart was lost
In his silent suffering
380 And, as in an unsteady fog, in it
Absorbed without an echo!..
It is both in noise and in silence
The sleep of his soul is disturbed.

22

He is always with a sad thought
In her shining eyes
Meets the image of the eternally sweet.
In her friendly speeches
He hears familiar sounds...
And hands rush to the ghost.
390 He remembered everything - he was calling her...
But suddenly he woke up. Oh! unhappy,
What a terrible abyss he is in here;
His life will not flourish.
It fades, fades, fades,
Like a beautiful color at dawn;
Like a young flame it goes out
On the illuminated altar!!!

23

He did not understand her aspirations,
Her sorrows and worries;
400 He didn't think that she
I came out of pity alone,
Looking at his torment;
I also didn’t think that love
Sharpened the heart and blood in her, -
And I was in terrible bewilderment...
.........
But that night he was waiting for her.
The fateful night has come;
And, driving away sleep from my eyes,
My prisoner lay in the cave.

24

410 The wind rose at that time,
Rocked in the darkness of the tree,
And his whistle is like a howl -
How an owl howls at midnight.
The rain made its way through the leaves;
In the distance thunder rolled on the clouds;
Shining, lightning stream
Lighted up the darkness of the cave,
Where my poor prisoner lay, -
He was all wet and shaking...
..........
420 The storm gradually subsided,
Only water dripped from the trees.
Here and there streams between the hills
They ran in a muddy stream
And they fell into the Terek with splashes.
There are no Circassians in the dark field...
And the clouds are already scattering,
And here and there stars flicker, -
The moonlight will soon appear.

25

And there's a golden moon above him
430 Floated on a light cloud
And to the top of the heavenly glass,
Playing through the blue vaults,
She held out her shiny ball.
Covered with a veil of silver
Hills, forests and meadow with a river.
But who with sad feet
Walking alone along a mountainous path?
She... with a dagger and a saw.
Why does she need a damask dagger?
440 Is he really going to perform a feat of war?
Is he really going to a secret battle!..
Oh no! filled with excitement
Sad thoughts and reflections,
She approached the cave,
And a famous voice rang out,
The prisoner woke up as if from a dream,
And in the depths of the close cave
They sit down... They've been there for a long time
They didn’t dare give free rein to words...
450 Suddenly the maiden steps cautiously
She walked up to him, sighing,
And, taking your hand, with gentle greetings,
With ardent feeling, but rebellious,
The words are sad at the beginning:

26

“Oh Russian! Russian! what's wrong with you!
Why are you with dumb pity
Sad, cold, silent
To my desperate call?..
You still have a friend in the world -
460 You haven't lost everything yet...
I'm ready for leisure hours
To share with you. But you said
What do you love, Russian, you are different.
Her shadow is running after me,
And that’s what it’s about, both night and day,
I'm crying, that's what I'm sad about!..
Forget her, I'm ready
Run with you to the edge of the universe!
Forget her, love me
470 Your unchanging friend..."
But a prisoner of his heart
I could not open in deep anguish,
And the tears of the black-eyed maiden
Souls did not touch him...
“So, Russian, you are saved! But first
Tell me: live or die?!!
Tell me, should I forget about hope?..
Should I wipe away these tears?”

27

Then he suddenly stood up and flashed
480 His lovely eyes
And large tears flashed
On them, like light dew:
“Oh no! leave your tender delight,
Do not be flattered by the hope of saving me, -
This steppe will be my grave;
Not on the remains of the glorious, abusive,
But on the bones of my exiled
The painful chain will rust!”
He fell silent, she cried,
490 But she took courage, stood up quietly,
I took the saw with one hand,
She handed the dagger to the other.
And so, under a sharp saw
Iron creaks - it disintegrates,
The chain shines and rings slightly.
She lifts him up
And so, sobbing, he says:

28

“Yes!.. captive... you will forget me...
Sorry!..forgive...forever:
500 Sorry! forever!.. How happy you will be,
Ah!.. remember me then...
Then!.. perhaps by the grave
I will be hidden and desired;
Perhaps... you will say sadly:
“She loved me too!”
And the maidens have pale cheeks,
Almost extinct eyes
Confused face, killed by melancholy,
One tear will not refresh!..
510 And only screams of agony are torn...
She takes his hands
And he hurries into the dark field,
Where the path lies through the cliffs.

29

They go, they go; stopped;
Sighing, they turned back;
But the fateful hour struck...
A shot rang out - and just
My prisoner falls. Not flour
But death portrays a gaze;
520 Quietly puts his hand on his heart...
So slowly along the slope of the mountains,
Sparkling in the sun,
A block of snow falls.
How amazed I am with him,
She falls without feeling,
It's like a fatal bullet
With one blow, in an instant
Both were suddenly struck down.
..........

30

But the Russian's eyes close
530 Death is a cold hand,
He takes his last breath,
And he’s already there - and there’s blood flowing like a river
Frozen in cold veins;
In his numb hands
The dagger still lies there, shining;
In all his senses numb
Life no longer burns forever,
Joy does not shine forever.

31

Meanwhile, the Circassian, with an evil smile,
540 Coming out of the wilderness of trees.
And, like a predatory wolf,
Casts a glance... stands... without words,
He tramples with his proud foot
The dead man... He saw
That the cartridge was lost in vain
And again he runs away through the mountains.

32

But then she suddenly woke up
And he looks for the prisoner with his eyes.
Circassian! where, where is your friend...
550 He's no longer there.
She's in tears
Can't express horror
Can't wash away the blood.
And her gaze is as if insane
He depicted a rush of love;
She suffered. The wind is noisy.
Whistling, its cover swirled!..
Gets up... and with quick steps
I went with my head down,
Through the clearing - behind the hills
560 She suddenly disappeared into the shadows of the night.

33

She's already approaching Terek.
Alas, why, why does she
So timidly looks around,
Full of terrible sadness?..
And for a long time on the running waves
She looks. And a silent gaze
Shines like a star in the midnight darkness.
She is on a stone cliff:
“Oh, Russian! Russian!!!" - exclaims.
570 The waves splashed under the moon,
They splashed on the shore!..
And the maiden disappears with a noise.
Only the white cover floats out,
Rushing along the dull waves:
The rest is sad and sad
Floats like a funeral shroud,
And he disappeared to the stone cliffs.

34

But who is their cruel killer?
He had a gray beard.
580 Without seeing the black-eyed maiden,
He hid in the depths of the forest.
Alas! that was an unfortunate father!
Perhaps he ruined her
And that lead is dangerous
Did he kill his daughter along with the prisoner? -
He doesn't know. She hid
And she hasn’t appeared since that night.
Circassian! where is your daughter? Look,
But you can’t return it!!

35

590 In the morning the corpse is frozen
Found on foamy beaches.
He was cold and ossified;
It seemed on her lips
The voice of the former torment remained;
It seemed pitiful sounds
The lips have not yet fallen silent.
We found out everything. But it was too late!
- Father! you are her killer.
Where is your hope?
600 Be tormented forever! Live sadly!..
She's no longer there. And behind you
The ghost of the fatal is everywhere.
Who will show her coffin to you?
Run! Look for her everywhere!!!
“Where is my daughter?” - and the review will say:
Where?..
1828

I would like to present one of the works of L.N. Tolstoy, his summary. “Prisoner of the Caucasus” is a work that the writer took on at the request of the editors of two magazines: “Zarya” and “Conversation”. At that time, these magazines were not widely distributed. Tolstoy completed his story in 1872 on March 25th. The publication of the work did not have to wait long: in the same year, “Prisoner of the Caucasus” appeared on the pages of the Zarya magazine.

The basis of the story was an incident that actually happened to the author. On June 13, 1853, five Russian officers were attacked by Chechens in the Caucasus, among them was Tolstoy.

Summary. “Prisoner of the Caucasus”: the beginning of the story

Officer Zhilin served in the Caucasus. One day he received a letter from his mother, after reading it, he decided to visit native home. On the way there, he and Kostylin (another Russian officer) were attacked by highlanders. Everything happened through the fault of Kostylin; instead of covering Zhilin, he started to run. So the officers, instead of their home, were captured by the highlanders. The prisoners were shackled and locked in a barn.

Next we present the story “Prisoner of the Caucasus” (summary). Then the following events occur. The officers, under pressure from the mountaineers, were forced to send letters to their relatives asking them to ransom them. Kostylin wrote, but Zhilin deliberately indicated an unreliable address, because he knew that the poor old mother would not have any money. They lived like this in the barn for a month. During this time, Zhilin won over the owner’s daughter Dina. The Russian officer surprised a thirteen-year-old child with homemade dolls, and the girl thanked him for this with secretly brought flat cakes and milk. Zhilin was haunted by the thought of escaping, and he decided to make a tunnel.

The long-awaited escape

One night they decided to escape: they crawled into a tunnel and planned to get to the fortress through the forest. In the darkness they went in the wrong direction and ended up near a strange village. They had to quickly change direction before the mountaineers caught them. Kostylin complained all the way, constantly falling behind and groaning. Zhilin could not leave his comrade and decided to carry him on himself. Due to the heavy burden (the fat and awkward Kostylin), he quickly got tired. The movement of the officers was very slow, so they were quickly overtaken, brought back, severely beaten with whips and put not in a barn, but in a hole 5 arshins deep.

Savior Dina

Zhilin is not used to giving up. He constantly thought about how he could escape. His savior was the owner’s daughter Dina, whom we mentioned earlier. At night, the girl brought the officer a long stick, with which he was able to climb up.

Having got out of the hole, Zhilin ran downhill and tried to remove the blocks, but the lock was so strong that he was unable to do this. Dina helped the officer with all her might, but the child’s support was in vain. The prisoner decided to escape just like that. Zhilin said goodbye to the girl, thanked her for the flat cakes she brought, and walked away in the stocks.

Freedom at last

The unshakable Russian officer finally reached the end of the forest at dawn, and the Cossacks appeared on the horizon. However, on the other side, the mountaineers were catching up with Zilina, it seemed that his heart was about to freeze. The officer got ready and shouted at the top of his lungs so that the Cossacks could hear him. The mountaineers got scared and stopped. This is how Zhilin escaped.

After this incident, the officer decided to live in the Caucasus. Kostylin remained in captivity for another month, and only then, barely alive, was he finally ransomed.

This concludes the summary. “Prisoner of the Caucasus” is one of the most poetic and perfect works in “Russian Reading Books”.

We told you about the story “Prisoner of the Caucasus” (summary) by Tolstoy Lev Nikolaevich. It is essentially a miniature novel aimed at children.