Original:
Kuligin. And you'll never get used to it, sir.
Boris. From what?
Kuligin. Cruel morals, sir, in our city, cruel! In philistinism, sir, you will see nothing but rudeness and bare poverty. And we, sir, will never get out of this bark! Because honest labor will never earn us more daily bread. And whoever has money, sir, he tries to enslave the poor, so that he can make even more money from his free labors. Do you know what your uncle, Savel Prokofich, answered the mayor? The peasants came to the mayor to complain that he would not read any of them by the way. The mayor began to say to him: “Listen, he says, Savel Prokofich, you count the peasants well! Every day they come to me with a complaint!” Your uncle patted the mayor on the shoulder, and said: “Is it worth it, your honor, to talk about such trifles with you! A lot of people stay with me every year; you understand: I’ll underpay them for some penny per person, and I make thousands of this, so it’s good for me! That's how, sir! And among themselves, sir, how they live! They undermine each other's trade, and not so much out of self-interest, but out of envy. They quarrel with each other; they lure drunken clerks into their tall mansions, such, sir, clerks, that there is no human appearance on him, his human appearance is lost. And those to them, for a small blessing, on stamp sheets malicious slander scribble on their neighbors. And they will begin, sir, the court and the case, and there will be no end to the torment. They sue, they sue here, but they will go to the province, and there they are already waiting for them and splashing their hands with joy. Soon the fairy tale is told, but the deed is not soon done; lead them, lead them, drag them, drag them; and they are also happy with this dragging, that's all they need. “I, he says, will spend money, and it will become a penny for him.” I wanted to describe all this in verses ...

Arranged by A. Minnikaev

Cruel manners, sir, in our city. cruel
In philistinism, the world is ruled by people who are not at all distant
Full full of rudeness worse than in the life of the capital
You will not see anything but bare poverty.
You will never be able to get out of this bark:
Hope ... many have it, but only for the time being
All who are honest will not earn daily food,
And whoever has money in his pocket is the owner of the poor,
On whose labors he will drink hard and feast,
It is beautiful to live and make even more money.
To tell you how your wild uncle managed to answer,
Savel Prokofich looking with kind eyes to the mayor?

“Listen, brother, you calculate the peasants well.
Every day they come to me with complaints in a small way.
Answer: is it worth it for us to talk about trifles.
They don’t need a penny, that five - I make capital

And among themselves, dear sir, how they live:
They tear their throats, they sell themselves, they strangle trade
They undermine each other, do not hide,
That the war comes from the edge of envy ... they successfully lure
In their high mansions of drunken clerks,
On which there is no human appearance, and such
That lost their appearance. On stamp sheets
Malicious slanders scribble on neighbors and relatives
They sue, they sue and there is no end to stupid disputes
The results of these processes, except for conversations,
How they will go to the province for the truth, an important thing
- They are waiting for them there, clapping their hands with joy.
Soon the fairy tale is being told, but the case is in a hurry
Not good: they are dragged like animal tails,
And they are happy about that, they bell unnecessarily ...
A very strange everyday life: “I will spend money - to speak
“Yes, he will become a penny”
... wanted to depict in verse

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Kuligin. That's what, sir, we have a small town! They made a boulevard, but they don't walk. They walk only on holidays, and then they do one kind of walking, and they themselves go there to show their outfits. You will only meet a drunken clerk, trudging home from the tavern. There is no time for the poor to walk, sir, they have work day and night. And they only sleep three hours a day. And what do the rich do? Well, what would it seem, they do not walk, do not breathe fresh air? So no. Everyone’s gates, sir, have been locked for a long time, and the dogs have been lowered ... Do you think they are doing business or praying to God? No, sir. And they don’t lock themselves up from thieves, but so that people don’t see how they eat their own home and tyrannize their families. And what tears flow behind these locks, invisible and inaudible! What can I say, sir! You can judge by yourself. And what, sir, behind these locks is the debauchery of the dark and drunkenness! And everything is sewn and covered - no one sees or knows anything, only God sees! You, he says, look, in people I am yes on the street, but you don’t care about my family; to this, he says, I have locks, yes constipation, and angry dogs. The family, they say, is a secret, a secret! We know these secrets! From these secrets, sir, he alone is cheerful, and the rest howl like a wolf. And what's the secret? Who does not know him! To rob orphans, relatives, nephews, beat up the household so that they would not dare to squeak about anything that he does there. That's the whole secret. Well, God bless them! Do you know, sir, who walks with us? Young boys and girls. So these people steal an hour or two from sleep, well, they walk in pairs. Yes, here's a couple!

A. N. Ostrovsky. Thunderstorm. Performance. Series 1

(Ostrovsky"Thunderstorm", act 3, scene 1, phenomenon 3. See on our website summary"Thunderstorms", her full text and analysis this play, made by the great Russian writer

Cruel, sir, manners in our city

Quote from the play by Ostrovsky A.N. "Thunderstorm". These words are spoken by Kuligin (act. 1, yavl. 3).

“Boris. Eh, Kuligin, it’s painfully difficult for me here, without a habit. Everyone looks at me somehow wildly, as if I’m superfluous here, as if I’m interfering with them. I don’t know the customs here. I understand that all this is our Russian, native, but still I will not get used to it in any way.

Kuligin. And you'll never get used to it, sir.

Boris. From what?

Kuligin. Cruel morals, sir, in our city, cruel! In philistinism, sir, you will see nothing but rudeness and bare poverty. And we, sir, will never get out of this bark!

Because honest labor will never earn us more daily bread. And whoever has money, sir, he tries to enslave the poor, so that he can make even more money from his free labors.

Do you know what your uncle, Savel Prokofich, answered the mayor? The peasants came to the mayor to complain that he would not read any of them by the way. The mayor began to say to him:

“Listen,” he says, “Savel Prokofich, you count the peasants well! Every day they come to me with a complaint!”

Your uncle patted the mayor on the shoulder and said: “Is it worth it, your honor, to talk about such trifles with me! , I have thousands of this, so it is; I feel good!"

That's how, sir! And among themselves, sir, how they live! They undermine each other's trade, and not so much out of self-interest, but out of envy. They quarrel with each other; they lure drunken clerks into their tall mansions, such, sir, clerks, that there is no human appearance on him, his human appearance is lost.

And those, for a small blessing, on stamp sheets, malicious slander scribble on their neighbors. And they will begin, sir, the court and the case, and there will be no end to the torment. They are suing, they are suing here and they will go to the province, and there they are already expected and from, they splash their hands with joy. Soon the fairy tale is told, but the deed is not soon done; they lead them, they lead, they drag them, they drag them, and they are also happy with this dragging, that's all they need.

“I,” he says, “will spend money, and it will become a penny for him.” I wanted to describe all this in verses ... "

Beam of light in the dark realm

Quote from the article "A Ray of Light in the Dark Kingdom" by the publicist Nikolai Alexandrovich Dobrolyubov (1860), dedicated to the drama of Ostrovsky A.N. "Thunderstorm" (1859)

In the article, the main character of the play, Katerina, who committed suicide, was compared with a "ray of light" in the "dark kingdom" of ignorant tyrant merchants.

One loves watermelon, the other pork cartilage

Quote from Alexander Nikolaevich Ostrovsky's play "Dowry" (1878), words by Paratov:

"Larisa. We, Sergey Sergeyevich, are going to the village soon.

Paratov. From the beautiful places here?

Karandyshev. What do you find beautiful here?

Paratov. After all, it's like someone; for taste, there is no sample for color.

Ogudalova. True true. Who likes the city, and who likes the village.

Paratov. Aunty, everyone has their own taste: one likes watermelon, the other pork cartilage.

Ogudalova. Ah, the prankster! How do you know so many proverbs?

Paratov. I used to hang out with barge haulers, aunty, that's how you learn the Russian language.

Apparently this phrase was known before Ostrovsky wrote the play "Dowry".

For example, Saltykov-Shchedrin Mikhail Evgrafovich in Abroad, 3 writes: "The idea of ​​a commission is inevitably matched by the idea of ​​wrangling. One likes watermelon, another likes pork cartilage."