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- Федор Достоевский
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- Преступление и наказание
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- Стр. 32/453
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Two
lads
in
the
crowd
snatched
up
whips
and
ran
to
the
mare
to
beat
her
about
the
ribs
.
One
ran
each
side
.
“
Hit
her
in
the
face
,
in
the
eyes
,
in
the
eyes
,
”
cried
Mikolka
.
“
Give
us
a
song
,
mates
,
”
shouted
someone
in
the
cart
and
everyone
in
the
cart
joined
in
a
riotous
song
,
jingling
a
tambourine
and
whistling
.
The
woman
went
on
cracking
nuts
and
laughing
.
.
.
.
He
ran
beside
the
mare
,
ran
in
front
of
her
,
saw
her
being
whipped
across
the
eyes
,
right
in
the
eyes
!
He
was
crying
,
he
felt
choking
,
his
tears
were
streaming
.
One
of
the
men
gave
him
a
cut
with
the
whip
across
the
face
,
he
did
not
feel
it
.
Wringing
his
hands
and
screaming
,
he
rushed
up
to
the
grey
-
headed
old
man
with
the
grey
beard
,
who
was
shaking
his
head
in
disapproval
.
One
woman
seized
him
by
the
hand
and
would
have
taken
him
away
,
but
he
tore
himself
from
her
and
ran
back
to
the
mare
.
She
was
almost
at
the
last
gasp
,
but
began
kicking
once
more
.
“
I
’
ll
teach
you
to
kick
,
”
Mikolka
shouted
ferociously
.
He
threw
down
the
whip
,
bent
forward
and
picked
up
from
the
bottom
of
the
cart
a
long
,
thick
shaft
,
he
took
hold
of
one
end
with
both
hands
and
with
an
effort
brandished
it
over
the
mare
.
“
He
’
ll
crush
her
,
”
was
shouted
round
him
.
“
He
’
ll
kill
her
!
”
“
It
’
s
my
property
,
”
shouted
Mikolka
and
brought
the
shaft
down
with
a
swinging
blow
.
There
was
a
sound
of
a
heavy
thud
.
“
Thrash
her
,
thrash
her
!
Why
have
you
stopped
?
”
shouted
voices
in
the
crowd
.
And
Mikolka
swung
the
shaft
a
second
time
and
it
fell
a
second
time
on
the
spine
of
the
luckless
mare
.
She
sank
back
on
her
haunches
,
but
lurched
forward
and
tugged
forward
with
all
her
force
,
tugged
first
on
one
side
and
then
on
the
other
,
trying
to
move
the
cart
.
But
the
six
whips
were
attacking
her
in
all
directions
,
and
the
shaft
was
raised
again
and
fell
upon
her
a
third
time
,
then
a
fourth
,
with
heavy
measured
blows
.
Mikolka
was
in
a
fury
that
he
could
not
kill
her
at
one
blow
.
