Kuprin Heinrich summary. Encyclopedia of fairy-tale heroes: "Four Beggars". Wanderings and studies

Kuprin Alexander

Four beggars

Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin

Four beggars

In all the zucchini and restaurants in Paris you can ask for hazelnuts, almonds, raisins and dried figs for dessert. You just need to tell the garçon: give me “beggars”, and they will give you a neat paper box containing all these four types of snacks, once so beloved here, in the former rich commercial thousand-domed Moscow.

Paris, in its rush and fussiness, impatiently shortens words and phrases: metro - metro, boulevard St. Michel - Boulevard Miche, steak a la Chateaubriand chateau, calvados - calva. So instead of the old “dessert des quatresе mendiants,” he briefly throws in “mendiants!” However, about nine years ago I still saw a full inscription on the boxes containing this simple and tasty delicacy. Now you won't see her again.

I no longer know whether I heard it somewhere, or saw it in a dream, or accidentally myself. came up with a cute legend about the origin of this strange name.

The most beloved of French kings and heroes (except for the mythical ones) was not yet Henry the Fourth and the powerful king of France, but only Henri Bourbon, the little ruler of little Navarre. True, at his birth, the famous astrologer Nostradamus predicted a great future for him from the stars: glory shining in all centuries, and inexhaustible popular love.

But at the time in question, the young Gascon king - this cheerful and kind skeptic - had not yet thought about his shining star, or, perhaps, due to his characteristic cautious secrecy, pretended not to think. He carefreely ran not only after the beautiful ladies of his tiny courtyard, but also after all the pretty women of Auch, Tarbes, Miradny, Pau and Agen, not leaving his kind attention also on the wives of farmers and the daughters of innkeepers. He valued a sharp word spoken at the right time, and it was not in vain that his other jokes and aphorisms became treasures of people's memory. And he also loved good red wine with a cheerful, friendly conversation.

He was poor, simple with the people, fair in his judgments and very accessible; therefore, the Gascons, the Navarrese, and the Béarnians were sincerely devoted to him, finding in him the sweet features of the kind, legendary King Dagobert.

His great passion and favorite pastime was hunting. At that time, many animals were found in the lower and upper Pyrenees: wolves and bears, lynxes, wild boars, mountain goats and hares. The poor King Henri was also an expert in falconry.

One day, while hunting in the vicinity of Pau, in a dense pine forest that stretched for many dozens of leagues, King Henry fell on the trail of a beautiful mountain goat and, pursuing it, gradually separated from his hunting retinue over a very long distance. Annoyed by the smell of the beast, his dogs were so carried away by the chase that soon even their barking could not be heard. Meanwhile, evening imperceptibly thickened and night fell. Then the king realized that he was lost. From a distance the calling sounds of hunting horns could be heard, but - strangely - the further he walked towards them, the weaker the horns sounded. With annoyance, Henry remembered how confused and capricious all the loud sounds in mountain forests were and what a treacherous mocker the mountain echo was. But it was already too late. We had to spend the night in the forest. However, the king, like a true Gascon, was decisive and persistent. Fatigue overcame him, hunger tormented his insides, thirst tormented him; In addition, the awkwardly twisted leg experienced a sharp pain in the foot with every step; The king, nevertheless, limping and stumbling, with difficulty made his way through the thicket, hoping to find a road or a forest hut.

Suddenly a faint, faint smell of smoke touched his nostrils (the king generally had an amazing sense of smell). Then a small light flashed through the thicket. King Henri walked straight towards him and soon saw that a small fire had been lit in a mountain clearing and four black figures were sitting around it. A hoarse voice called out:

Who goes?

“A good man and a good Christian,” Henri answered. - I got lost and sprained my right foot. Let me sit with you until the morning.

Go and sit down.

The king did so. A strange company sat in the middle of the forest by the fire; dressed in rags, dirty and gloomy people. One was armless, another was legless, the third was blind, the fourth was grimacing, obsessed with the dance of St. Vitus.

Who you are? - asked the king.

First, the guest introduces himself to the hosts, and then asks.

That’s right,” Heinrich agreed. - You are right. I am a hunter from the royal hunt, which, however, can be seen from my costume. I accidentally got separated from my comrades and, as you can see, lost my way...

I suppose I don’t see anything, but still, be our guest. We are glad to see you. We are all from the wandering guild of free beggars, although it is a pity that your good master, King Henri - may his glorious name be blessed - issued such a cruel decree on the persecution of our class. How can we serve you?

O guts of Saint Gregory! - cried the king. - I am hungry like a dog and thirsty like a camel in the desert. Besides, maybe someone can bandage my leg. Here's a small gold one, that's all I have with me.

“Excellent,” said the blind man, who apparently was the leader of the company. - We will offer you bread and goat cheese for dinner. We also have the most excellent wine, which, perhaps, is not even in the royal cellar, and in unlimited quantities. Hey you, dancer! Run quickly to the spring and fill a flask of water. And you, hunter, give me your sore leg, I will take off your boot and bandage your instep and ankle. This is not a dislocation: you just stretched a vein.

Soon the king drank plenty of cold spring water, which to him, an excellent connoisseur of drinks, seemed tastier than the most precious wine. He ate a simple dinner with extraordinary appetite, and his tightly and deftly bandaged leg immediately felt relief. He thanked the beggars heartily.

Wait, said the blind man. “Do you really think that we Gascons can do without dessert?” Come on, you one-armed one!

The shopkeeper handed me a bag of raisins.

You one-legged one!

And while he was talking to the shopkeeper, I pulled off handfuls of four figs.

You dancer!

I picked up a load of hazelnuts along the way.

Well, I,” said the blind elder, “I’ll add a bundle of almonds.” This, my friends, is from my own little garden, from my only almond tree.

Having finished dinner, the king and four beggars went to bed and slept sweetly until early dawn. In the morning, the beggars showed the king the way to the nearest village, where Henri could find a horse or donkey in order to get to Po by the shortest route.

Saying goodbye to them and thanking them from the bottom of his heart, Henry said:

When you come to Pau, don't forget to stop by the palace. You will have no need to look for the king, you just ask the hunter Henri, the hunter with a pointy beard, and you will be led to me. I don’t live richly, but I always have a bottle of wine and a piece of cheese, and sometimes, maybe even chicken, for my friends.

Kuprin Alexander

Four beggars

Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin

Four beggars

I no longer know whether I heard it somewhere, or saw it in a dream, or accidentally myself. came up with a cute legend about the origin of this strange name.

Who goes?

“A good man and a good Christian,” Henri answered. - I got lost and sprained my right foot. Let me sit with you until the morning.

Go and sit down.

Who you are? - asked the king.

First, the guest introduces himself to the hosts, and then asks.

Wait, said the blind man. “Do you really think that we Gascons can do without dessert?” Come on, you one-armed one!

The shopkeeper handed me a bag of raisins.

You one-legged one!

And while he was talking to the shopkeeper, I pulled off handfuls of four figs.

You dancer!

I picked up a load of hazelnuts along the way.

Well, I,” said the blind elder, “I’ll add a bundle of almonds.” This, my friends, is from my own little garden, from my only almond tree.

Saying goodbye to them and thanking them from the bottom of his heart, Henry said:

The king safely reached the city of Po, meeting along the way a retinue who was anxiously looking for him. He did not tell anyone about his nightly adventure.

How many days, weeks or months have passed since that time - the legend does not say. But one day, four beggars stopped at the gates of a modest royal palace in the city and began to ask to be taken to Sieur Henri, the royal huntsman, to the same Henri who has a sharp barbiche (beard - from the French barbiche). Arguments and quarrels began. The beggars insisted on their own, the gatekeeper shouted at them and kept trying to push them out. The palace people came running to the noise, and finally the king himself looked out the window.

“Don’t touch these people,” he shouted, “and bring them quickly to me.” These are my friends.

Who is this monsignor? - the blind man asked in a whisper.

Don't you know? King!

The king treated his forest acquaintances to a hearty dinner and good wine. He himself sat with them at the table. And at the end of the meal, a four-course dessert was served: nuts, raisins, almonds and dried figs. The beggars left the palace treated kindly and generously endowed by the monarch (who, it must be said, was usually somewhat stingy). And the dessert of the four beggars became fashionable first in Navarre and Gascony, and then, when Henri became the valiant Henry IV, the glorious king of France, it became inevitable in every decent house and even in all taverns.

It may very well be that it was in memory of his four friends that King Henry revoked the decree on the brutal persecution of beggars, but - a man of great practical mind - he nevertheless imposed a certain tax on them in favor of the state.

This story by Kuprin is elegant in French. Here the author reveals the history of the dessert, which he himself admits that he could “accidentally” come up with.

At the very beginning, the author addresses the reader with a question about this dessert: dried fruits (raisins, figs) and nuts (almonds, hazelnuts). He moves on to the peculiarities of modern life - everything very quickly. The French seem to be especially in a hurry, because they don’t even finish the words. They also shortened the name of the dessert.

The story tells the story of King Henry. He was still very young then and loved hunting. One day he fought off a “tuple” of rangers, got lost in the forest, and also twisted his ankle. But, fortunately, he came out into the light of the fire. There were beggars there. Not recognizing him as the king, and he introduced himself simply as a royal huntsman, they helped him: they gave him something to drink, fed, and bandaged him. They communicated boldly and calmly, for example, in response to his “royal” demand to introduce himself to them, they laughed and demanded that he first identify himself. By the way, they scolded the king, who issued an overly strict decree - to persecute the beggars. Henry thought their water was better than wine, the dressing immediately made him feel better, and the dessert was beyond praise. The king was just tired and hungry, happy with simple things. And the beggars collected this dessert - everyone had something in reserve. One was given raisins, another stole figs, a third collected nuts from the forest, and a fourth from his almond tree. Grateful Henry invited the beggars to his place - “to the king’s servant” one day.

One day they came, but the servants did not let them in, because no one understood who they were talking about. And so the king himself heard the noise, received the beggars, treated them, helped them. And in their honor, this dessert set began to be served at court. And then - throughout France.

The story teaches, mainly, a kind attitude towards all people, despite all their merits or, conversely, shortcomings.

Picture or drawing Four beggars

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Anna Markovna's establishment is not one of the most luxurious, like, say, Treppel's, but it is not low-class either. In Yam (the former Yamskaya Sloboda) there were only two more of these. The rest were ruble and fifty-kopeck ones, for soldiers, thieves, and gold miners.

Late in May evening, Anna Markovna’s guest room hosted a group of students, with whom was private assistant professor Yarchenko and a reporter from the local newspaper Platonov. The girls had already come out to them, but the men continued the conversation they had started on the street. Platonov said that he had known this establishment and its inhabitants well for a long time. He, one might say, belongs here, but he has never visited any of the “girls.” He wanted to enter this little world and understand it from the inside. All the loud phrases about the trade in female meat are nothing in comparison with everyday, business trifles, prosaic everyday life. The horror is that it is not perceived as horror. Bourgeois everyday life - and nothing more. Moreover, in the most incredible way, seemingly incompatible principles converge here: sincere, for example, piety and a natural attraction to crime. Here is Simeon, the local bouncer. Robs prostitutes, beats them, probably a murderer in the past. And he became friends with him through the works of John of Damascus. Extraordinarily religious. Or Anna Markovna. A bloodsucker, a hyena, but the most tender mother. Everything for Bertochka: a horse, an Englishwoman, and forty thousand worth of diamonds.

At that time, Zhenya entered the hall, whom Platonov, and both clients and the inhabitants of the house respected for her beauty, mocking audacity and independence. She was excited today and quickly began speaking in conventional jargon with Tamara. However, Platonov understood him: due to the influx of public, Pasha had already been taken into the room more than ten times, and this ended in hysteria and fainting. But as soon as she came to her senses, the hostess sent her back to the guests. The girl was in great demand because of her sexuality. Platonov paid for her so that Pasha could relax in their company... The students soon scattered to their rooms, and Platonov, left alone with Likhonin, an ideological anarchist, continued his story about the local women. As for prostitution as a global phenomenon, it is an insurmountable evil.

Lichonin listened sympathetically to Platonov and suddenly declared that he did not want to remain just a sympathetic spectator. He wants to take the girl from here, save her. “Save? He’ll come back,” Platonov said with conviction. “He’ll be back,” Zhenya responded in his tone. “Lyuba,” Likhonin turned to another returning girl, “do you want to leave here? Not for support. I’ll help you, open a dining room.”

The girl agreed, and Lichonin, having rented her an apartment for ten days from the housekeeper for the whole day, planned to demand her yellow ticket the next day and exchange it for a passport. Taking responsibility for a person’s fate, the student had little idea of the hardships associated with this. His life became complicated from the very first hours. However, his friends agreed to help him develop the rescued one. Lichonin began to teach her arithmetic, geography and history, and he was also responsible for taking her to exhibitions, the theater and popular lectures. Nezheradze undertook to read “The Knight in the Skin of a Tiger” to her and teach her to play the guitar, mandolin and zurna. Simanovsky suggested studying Marx's Capital, cultural history, physics and chemistry.

All this took a lot of time, required considerable funds, but gave very modest results. In addition, brotherly relations with her were not always successful, and she perceived them as disdain for her feminine virtues.

To get a yellow ticket from his mistress Lyubin, he had to pay more than five hundred rubles of her debt. The passport cost twenty-five. The relationship of his friends to Lyuba, who became prettier and prettier outside the brothel environment, also became a problem. Soloviev unexpectedly discovered that he was submitting to the charm of her femininity, and Simanovsky more and more often turned to the topic of a materialistic explanation of love between a man and a woman and, when he drew a diagram of this relationship, he leaned so low over the seated Lyuba that he could smell her breasts. But she answered “no” and “no” to all his erotic rubbish, because she became more and more attached to her Vasil Vasilich. The same one, noticing that Simanovsky liked her, was already thinking about how, having caught them inadvertently, he would create a scene and free himself from a burden that was truly unbearable for him.

Lyubka reappeared with Anna Markovna after another extraordinary event. The singer Rovinskaya, known throughout Russia, a large, beautiful woman with green Egyptian eyes, in the company of Baroness Tefting, lawyer Rozanov and the socialite young man Volodya Chaplinsky, out of boredom, toured the establishments of the Yama: first the expensive ones, then the average ones, then the dirtiest ones. After Treppel we went to Anna Markovna and occupied a separate office, where the housekeeper herded the girls. The last to enter was Tamara, a quiet, pretty girl, who had once been a novice in a monastery, and before that someone else, and at least spoke fluent French and German. Everyone knew that she had a “cat” Senechka, a thief on whom she spent a lot of money. At Elena Viktorovna’s request, the young ladies sang their usual, canonical songs. And everything would have turned out well if the drunken Little Manka had not burst into them. When sober, she was the meekest girl in the entire establishment, but now she fell to the floor and shouted: “Hurray! New girls have arrived!” The Baroness, indignant, said that she patronized a monastery for fallen girls - the Magdalene Orphanage.

And then Zhenya appeared, inviting this old fool to leave immediately. Her shelters are worse than a prison, and Tamara said: she knows well that half of decent women are supported, and the rest, older ones, support young boys. Of the prostitutes, hardly one in a thousand had an abortion, and they all did it several times.

During Tamara’s tirade, the baroness said in French that she had already seen this face somewhere, and Rovinskaya, also in French, reminded her that in front of them was the chorus girl Margarita, and it was enough to remember Kharkov, the Konyakin hotel, Soloveichik’s entrepreneur. Then the Baroness was not yet a Baroness.

Rovinskaya stood up and said that, of course, they would leave and the time would be paid for, but for now she would sing to them Dargomyzhsky’s romance “We parted proudly...”. As soon as the singing stopped, the indomitable Zhenya fell on her knees in front of Rovinskaya and began to sob. Elena Viktorovna bent down to kiss her, but she whispered something to her, to which the singer replied that a few months of treatment and everything would pass.

After this visit, Tamara inquired about Zhenya’s health. She admitted that she was infected with syphilis, but does not announce it, and every evening she deliberately infects ten to fifteen two-legged scoundrels.

The girls began to remember and curse all their most unpleasant or perverse clients. Following this, Zhenya remembered the name of the man to whom her own mother sold her, ten years old. “I’m little,” she shouted to him, but he answered: “Nothing, you’ll grow up,” and then repeated this cry of her soul, like a walking joke. Zoya remembered her school teacher who said that she had to obey him in everything or he would kick her out of school for bad behavior.

At that moment Lyubka appeared. Emma Eduardovna, the housekeeper, responded to the request to take her back with abuse and beatings. Zhenya, unable to bear it, grabbed her hair. There was a loud voice in the neighboring rooms, and a fit of hysteria gripped the entire house. Only an hour later, Simeon and two brothers in the profession were able to calm them down, and at the usual hour the junior housekeeper Zosya shouted: “Young ladies! Get dressed! Into the hall!”

Cadet Kolya Gladyshev invariably came to Zhenya. And today he was sitting in her room, but she asked him not to rush and did not allow him to kiss her. Finally she said that she was sick and let him thank God: anyone else would not have spared him. After all, those who are paid for love hate those who pay and never feel sorry for them. Kolya sat down on the edge of the bed and covered his face with his hands. Zhenya stood up and crossed him: “May the Lord bless you, my boy.”

"Will you forgive me, Zhenya?" - he said. “Yes, my boy. Forgive me too... We won’t see each other again!”

In the morning, Zhenya went to the port, where, leaving the newspaper for a vagabond life, he worked unloading Platonov’s watermelons. She told him about her illness, and he said that, probably, Sabashnikov and a student nicknamed Ramses were infected from it, who shot himself, leaving a note where he wrote that he himself was to blame for what happened, because he took a woman for money, without love.

But Sergei Pavlovich, who loves Zhenka, could not resolve her doubts that gripped her after she took pity on Kolya: wasn’t the dream of infecting everyone stupidity, a fantasy? Nothing makes sense. There is only one thing left for her... Two days later, during a medical examination, she was found hanged. This smacked of some scandalous glory for the establishment. But now only Emma Eduardovna could worry about this, who finally became the owner, having bought the house from Anna Markovna. She announced to the young ladies that from now on she demands real order and unconditional obedience. Her establishment will be better than Treppel's. She immediately invited Tamara to become her main assistant, but so that Senechka would not appear in the house.

Through Rovinskaya and Rezanov, Tamara settled the matter of burying the suicide killer Zhenya according to the Orthodox rite. All the young ladies followed her coffin. Pasha died after Zhenka. She finally fell into dementia and was taken to an insane asylum, where she died. But this was not the end of Emma Eduardovna’s troubles.

Tamara and Senka soon robbed a notary, in whom, by playing a married woman in love with him, she inspired complete trust. She mixed sleeping powder with the notary, let Senka into the apartment, and he opened the safe. A year later, Senka was caught in Moscow and betrayed Tamara, who fled with him.

Then Vera passed away. Her lover, a military official, squandered government money and decided to shoot himself. Vera wanted to share his fate. In an expensive hotel room after a luxurious feast, he shot at her, became cowardly and only wounded himself.

Finally, during one of the fights, Little Manka was killed. The ruin of Emma Eduardovna ended when a hundred soldiers came to the aid of two fighters who had been cheated in a neighboring establishment, ruining at the same time all the nearby ones.