Viy Page #3

don't make sense even to a scholar.

As the saying goes: When masters

fall out, their men get the clout.

You're not lying,

are you, philosopher?

God strike me dead if I'm lying.

If she had lived a minute longer,

I would have known everything.

"Let no one say prayers for me,

father,

but send men at once

to Kiev Seminary

and tell them to bring here

seminarian Khoma Brutus.

And let him pray for three nights

for the salvation of my soul.

He knows."

And what he knows,

that I hadn't time to hear.

Have you been known

for your chaste life?

Could she hear about you

from someone?

Me? Chaste life?

For heaven's sake, sir!

I visited a baker's wife

on Maundy Thursday.

Nonetheless, she named you,

that's all that counts.

As of tonight, you will start

reciting the prayers for her soul.

Yes, but certainly you want to do

the best thing...

Of course, anyone versed in

the Scriptures could do it...

But the best thing would be to have

a deacon, or even a sub-deacon.

They are well-trained

and will do what's necessary.

I haven't got a suitable voice. Also,

I don't have a good appearance.

I'll do as my dear child

had wanted it.

I don't care what it may cost.

You will start your vigil tonight,

and recite the prayers for three

nights,

and I shall reward you handsomely

for it. Otherwise...

How could our dear mistress

abandon us?

Oh, dear child, tell us what made

you leave us?..

Come back! Come back, beloved!

May God the Father have mercy

on her soul

May God the Son have mercy

on her soul.

May God the Holy Ghost have

mercy on her soul.

Give the philosopher his dinner.

Then bring him back to the church.

Tell them how the witch

cast a spell on the huntsman.

It's a shame, brother philosopher,

that you didn't know Mikitka.

Even his dogs adored him.

He was a fine huntsman.

Only recently he had the misfortune

to fall for the young mistress.

- Either he fell in love with her...

- Or she bewitched him...

No one knows for sure.

But the man was lost.

One day the girl appeared

in the stable and said:

"Mikitka, let me put my foot on

you to help me onto the horse."

The poor man was so overjoyed,

he said:

"I'd rather you yourself climbed

onto my back."

And the fool took her onto his

back, and went galloping away!

It's time we take the philosopher

to where the corpse is lying.

We'll leave you now.

- Just pray in earnest.

- The best of luck to you.

Forgive us, but we must lock you

up in. By order of the master.

That's all right. It's no more

than three nights of work.

And then the master will fill

both of my pockets with gold.

There's nothing to fear.

She won't rise up out of her coffin.

Even corpses fear the word of God.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes