Has the Civil War reached families? Bogdan Stupka is a brilliant actor of our time! The clip that broke the entire Internet!!! Let us betray his father honestly to the earth.

August 27 People's Artist Ukraine, the brilliant actor of our time Bogdan Silvestrovich Stupka would have turned 74 years old. On the occasion of the artist's birthday, Mizrakh Igor Arkadyevich dedicated his creative work to the song "There is a choice!" Bogdan Stupka by filming a music video in which you can see Bogdan Stupka in one of the world's best roles - Taras Bulba.

In just 4 minutes, the life of an actor will flash before your eyes ...

This is indeed a bold move because it is the first creative work dedicated to Bogdan Stupka in this musical genre.

After analyzing the clip itself, the experts assessed the work as highly artistic and professional!

Creative work on the clip continues to this day, and this is not the end.

The viewer will be able to see scenes that will make you think about the meaning of life, analyze the relationship between people, turn your face to the eternal problem of "fathers and sons" ...

The last phrase of the hero of the film suggests a lofty philosophy: “... Father! I thank God that I happened to die in front of your clear eyes ... "!

…. - Well, what are we going to do now? - said Taras, looking straight at his son. But Andriy was unable to say anything to that, and stood with his eyes fixed on the ground.
- What, son, did your Poles help you?

Andriy was unresponsive.

So sell? Sell ​​faith? Sell ​​yours? Stop, get off your horse!

Obediently, like a child, he dismounted from his horse and stood dead or alive in front of Taras.

Stop and don't move! I gave birth to you, I will kill you! - said Taras and, stepping back a step, took the gun from his shoulder. Pale as a canvas was Andriy; one could see how quietly his lips moved and how he pronounced someone's name; but it was not the name of the fatherland, or mother, or brothers - it was the name of a beautiful Polish woman. Taras fired.

Like an ear of bread cut with a sickle, like a young lamb that sensed a deadly iron under its heart, he hung his head and fell on the grass without saying a single word.

The son-killer stopped and looked for a long time at the lifeless corpse. Even dead he was beautiful: his courageous face, recently filled with strength and invincible charm for wives, still expressed wonderful beauty; black eyebrows, like mourning velvet, set off his pale features. “What would a Cossack be? - said Taras, - and a tall camp, and black-browed, and a face like that of a nobleman, and his hand was strong in battle! Gone, gone, ingloriously, like a vile dog!”

Father, what have you done? Did you kill him? said Ostap, who had arrived at that time.

I, son, - said Taras, nodding his head.

Ostap looked intently into the eyes of the dead man. He felt sorry for his brother and he immediately said:

Let us, father, honestly betray him to the ground, so that enemies do not scold him and birds of prey do not tear his body away.

They will bury him without us! - said Taras, - he will have mourners and comforters!

Doesn't all this remind you, dear compatriots, what is happening in our country today? Doesn't this all remind you of scenes from our life today? Again, the brother went to the brother, the son to the father with a weapon in his hands ....

Shouldn't we think about what is happening between us, between people, put down our weapons and live peacefully?

Did not our grandfathers and great-grandfathers fought for peace on earth in the distant past?

…. Bogdan Silvestrovich was a man who deserved to be dedicated to songs, poems, films and books! And he dedicated his life and work to us, his descendants.

Therefore, we draw conclusions and must learn from the mistakes of others, study the experience of previous generations!

Work on the video "There is a choice!" Mizrakh Igor is a vivid example of this.

back, took the gun off his shoulder. Pale as a sheet was Andriy; one could see how quietly his lips moved and how he pronounced someone's name; but it was not the name of the fatherland, or mother, or brothers - it was the name of a beautiful Polish woman. Taras fired. Like an ear of bread cut with a sickle, like a young lamb that sensed a deadly iron under its heart, he hung his head and fell on the grass without saying a single word. The son-killer stopped and looked for a long time at the lifeless corpse. Even dead he was beautiful: his courageous face, recently filled with strength and invincible charm for wives, still expressed wonderful beauty; black eyebrows, like mourning velvet, set off his pale features. - What would a Cossack be? - said Taras, - and a tall camp, and black-browed, and a face like that of a nobleman, and his hand was strong in battle! Gone, gone ingloriously, like a vile dog! - Dad, what did you do? Did you kill him? said Ostap, who had arrived at that time. Taras nodded his head. Ostap looked intently into the eyes of the dead man. He felt sorry for his brother, and he said right there: - Let's betray him, father, honestly to the earth, so that enemies do not scold him and birds of prey do not tear his bodies apart. - They will bury him without us! - said Taras, - he will have mourners and comforters! And for about two minutes he thought whether to throw him at the plunder of the raw wolves or to spare his knightly prowess, which the brave should respect in anyone. As he sees, Golokopytenko gallops to him on a horse: - Trouble, ataman, the Poles have grown stronger, fresh forces have arrived to help! , Pysarenko runs at a run, already without a horse: - Where are you, dad? The Cossacks are looking for you. The ataman Nevylychky has already been killed, Zadorozhny has been killed, Cherevichenko has been killed. But the Cossacks are standing, they do not want to die without seeing you in their eyes; they want you to look at them before your death! - On the horse, Ostap! - said Taras and hurried to catch more Cossacks, to look at them again and so that they would look at their chieftain before they died. But they had not yet left the forest, and the enemy force surrounded the forest on all sides, and riders with sabers and spears appeared everywhere between the trees. "Ostap! .. Ostap, don't give in! .." - Taras shouted, and he himself, grabbing his saber unsheathed, began to honor the first ones who fell on all sides. And suddenly six people jumped on Ostap; but not at a good hour, apparently, it jumped on: a head flew from one, the other turned over, retreating; hit with a spear in the rib of a third; the fourth was more courageous, dodged the bullet with his head, and a hot bullet hit the horse's chest - the mad horse reared up, crashed against the ground and crushed the rider under him. "Good, son! .. Good, Ostap! .. - shouted Taras. - Here I am following you! .." And he kept fighting off the attackers. Taras hacks and beats, throws goodies on the head of both of them, while he himself looks ahead at Ostap and sees that he has already clashed with Ostap almost eight times. "Ostap!.. Ostap, don't give in!.." But Ostap is overpowered; one of them has already thrown a lasso around his neck, they are already knitting, they are already taking Ostap. "Eh, Ostap, Ostap! .. - shouted Taras, making his way to him, chopping cabbage oncoming and transverse. - Eh, Ostap, Ostap! .." But how heavy a stone was enough for him at that very moment. Everything swirled and turned upside down in his eyes. For a moment, heads, spears, smoke, flashes of fire, branches with tree leaves, flashed into his very eyes, flashed mixedly before him. And he crashed like a chopped oak tree to the ground. And mist covered his eyes. X - How long have I been sleeping! - said Taras, waking up, as if after a difficult drunken sleep, and trying to recognize the objects surrounding him. Terrible weakness overcame his limbs. The walls and corners of the unfamiliar room barely rushed before him. Finally he noticed that Tovkach was sitting in front of him, and seemed to be listening to his every breath. “Yes,” Tovkach thought to himself, “you could fall asleep, maybe forever!” But he didn’t say anything, he shook his finger and signaled to be silent. - Tell me, where am I now? Taras asked again, straining his mind and trying to recall the past. - Shut up! shouted his comrade sternly at him. - What else do you want to know? Can't you see that you're all chopped up? For two weeks now we have been jumping with you without taking a breath, and how you are in a fever and heat and talk nonsense. For the first time, I fell asleep peacefully. Shut up if you don't want to hurt yourself. But Taras kept trying and trying to collect his thoughts and recall the past. “Why, they seized me and surrounded me, was it completely Poles?” There was no way for me to stand out from the crowd? - Shut up, they tell you, damn kid! Tovkach shouted angrily, like a nurse, exhausted from patience, shouts to a restless 17 out of the shop and chasing his frightened comrade, ready to tear him to pieces; and suddenly runs into a teacher entering the classroom: in an instant, the mad impulse subsides and impotent rage falls. Like him, in an instant, Andriy's anger disappeared, as if it had never happened at all. And he saw before him only one terrible father. - Well, what are we going to do now? - said Taras, looking directly into his eyes. But Andriy knew nothing to say, and stood with his eyes fixed on the ground. - What, son, did your Poles help you? Andriy was unresponsive. - So sell? sell faith? sell yours? Stop, get off your horse! Dutifully, like a child, he dismounted from his horse and stood dead or alive in front of Taras. - Stop and don't move! I gave birth to you, I will kill you! - said Taras and, stepping back a step, took the gun from his shoulder. Pale as a sheet was Andriy; one could see how quietly his lips moved and how he pronounced someone's name; but it was not the name of the fatherland, or mother, or brothers - it was the name of a beautiful Polish woman. Taras fired. Like an ear of bread cut with a sickle, like a young lamb that sensed a deadly iron under its heart, he hung his head and fell on the grass without saying a single word. The son-killer stopped and looked for a long time at the lifeless corpse. He was handsome even in death: his courageous face, recently filled with strength and charm invincible for wives, still expressed wonderful beauty; black eyebrows, like mourning velvet, set off his pale features. - What would a Cossack be? - said Taras, - and a tall camp, and black-browed, and a face like that of a nobleman, and his hand was strong in battle! Gone, gone ingloriously, like a vile dog! - Dad, what did you do? Did you kill him? said Ostap, who had arrived at that time. Taras nodded his head. Ostap looked intently into the eyes of the dead man. He felt sorry for his brother, and he said right there: - Let's betray him, father, honestly to the earth, so that enemies do not scold him and birds of prey do not tear his bodies apart. - They will bury him without us! - said Taras, - he will have mourners and comforters! And for about two minutes he thought whether to throw him at the plunder of the raw wolves or to spare his knightly prowess, which the brave should respect in anyone. As he sees, Golokopytenko gallops to him on a horse: - Trouble, ataman, the Poles have grown stronger, fresh forces have arrived to help! , Pysarenko runs at a run, already without a horse: - Where are you, dad? The Cossacks are looking for you. The ataman Nevylychky has already been killed, Zadorozhny has been killed, Cherevichenko has been killed. But the Cossacks are standing there, they don't want to die without seeing you in their eyes; they want you to look at them before your death! - On the horse, Ostap! - said Taras and hurried to catch more Cossacks, to look at them again and so that they would look at their chieftain before they died. But they had not yet left the forest, and the enemy force surrounded the forest on all sides, and riders with sabers and spears appeared everywhere between the trees. "Ostap! .. Ostap, don't give in! .." - Taras shouted, and he, grabbing his saber unsheathed, began to honor the first ones who fell on all sides. And suddenly six people jumped on Ostap; but not at a good hour, apparently, it came on: a head flew off one, the other turned over, retreating; hit with a spear in the rib of a third; the fourth was more courageous, dodged the bullet with his head, and a hot bullet hit the horse's chest - the mad horse reared up, crashed against the ground and crushed the rider under him. "Good, son! .. Good, Ostap! .. - shouted Taras. - Here I am following you! .." And he kept fighting off the attackers. Taras hacks and beats, throws goodies on the head of both of them, while he himself looks ahead at Ostap and sees that he has already clashed with Ostap almost eight times. "Ostap!.. Ostap, don't give in!.." But Ostap is overpowered; one of them has already thrown a lasso around his neck, they are already knitting, they are already taking Ostap. "Eh, Ostap, Ostap! .. - shouted Taras, making his way to him, chopping cabbage oncoming and transverse. - Eh, Ostap, Ostap! .." But how heavy a stone was enough for him at that very moment. Everything swirled and turned upside down in his eyes. For a moment, heads, spears, smoke, flashes of fire, branches with tree leaves, flashed into his very eyes, flashed mixedly before him. And he crashed like a chopped oak tree to the ground. And the fog covered his eyes. X - How long have I been sleeping! - said Taras, waking up, as if after a difficult drunken sleep, and trying to recognize the objects surrounding him. Terrible weakness overcame his limbs. The walls and corners of the unfamiliar room barely rushed before him. At last he noticed that Tovkach was sitting before him, and seemed to be listening to his every breath. “Yes,” Tovkach thought to himself, “you could fall asleep, maybe forever!” But he didn’t say anything, he shook his finger and signaled to be silent. - Tell me, where am I now? Taras asked again, straining his mind and trying to recall the past. - Shut up! shouted his comrade sternly at him. - What else do you want to know? Can't you see that you're all chopped up? For two weeks now we have been jumping with you without taking a breath, and how you are in a fever and heat and talk nonsense. For the first time, I fell asleep peacefully. Shut up if you don't want to hurt yourself. But Taras kept trying and trying to collect his thoughts and recall the past. “Why, they seized me and surrounded me, was it completely Poles?” There was no way for me to stand out from the crowd? - Shut up, they tell you, damn kid! Tovkach shouted angrily, like a nurse, out of patience, shouts to a restless rake-child. "What's the use of knowing how you got out?" It's enough that he got out. There were people who did not betray you - well, and it will be with you! We still have many nights to ride together. Do you think you went for a simple Cossack? No, your head was valued at two thousand reds. - And Ostap? Taras suddenly cried out, made an effort to get up, and suddenly remembered how Ostap had been seized and tied in front of him, and that he was now in Lyash's hands. And grief embraced the old head. He tore off and pulled off all the dressings of his wounds, threw them far away, wanted to say something loudly - and instead spoke nonsense; fever and delirium again took possession of him, and insane speeches rushed without sense and connection. Meanwhile, his faithful comrade stood before him, scolding and scattering cruel, hilarious words and reproaches without count. Finally, he grabbed him by the legs and arms, swaddled him like a child, straightened out all the bandages, wrapped him in cowhide, tied him in splints, and, fastening him with ropes to the saddle, rushed off again with him on the road. - Though inanimate, but I will take you! I will not allow the Poles to mock your Cossack breed, to tear your body to pieces and throw it into the water. Even though the eagle will pop your eyes out of your forehead, let it be our steppe eagle, and not the Lyash eagle, not the one that flies from the Polish land. Though inanimate, I will take you to Ukraine! A true comrade spoke there. He rode without rest for days and nights and brought him, insensible, to the very Zaporozhian Sich. There he began to treat him tirelessly with herbs and wetting; found some knowledgeable Jewess who gave him various drugs for a month, and finally Taras felt better. Whether medicines or his own iron strength took over, only after a month and a half he was on his feet; the wounds healed, and only the saber scars made it clear how deeply the old Cossack had once been wounded. However, he became visibly cloudy and sad. Three heavy wrinkles appeared on his forehead and never left him again. He now looked around him: everything is new in the Setch, all the old comrades have died. None of those who stood for a just cause, for faith and brotherhood. And those who went with the koshevoi to steal the Tatars, and those were gone for a long time: everyone laid down their heads, everyone bent - some laying their honest heads in the battle itself, some from lack of water and breadlessness among the Crimean salt marshes, some disappeared in captivity, bear no shame; and the former koschevoi himself had long been gone from the world, and none of his old comrades; and the once seething Cossack force has long been overgrown with grass. He only heard that there was a feast, a strong, noisy feast: all the dishes were smashed to smithereens; there was not a drop of wine left anywhere, the guests and servants plundered all the expensive cups and vessels, and the owner of the house stands vaguely, thinking: "It would be better if there weren't that feast." In vain did they try to entertain and amuse Taras; in vain the bearded, gray-haired bandurists, passing by twos and threes, glorified his Cossack exploits. He looked sternly and indifferently at everything, and inextinguishable grief stood out on his motionless face, and, quietly bowing his head, he said: "My son! My Ostap!" The Cossacks were going on a sea expedition. Two hundred boats were lowered into the Dnieper, and Asia Minor saw them, with shaved heads and long forelocks, betraying its flowering banks to the sword and fire; she saw the turbans of her Mohammedan inhabitants scattered, like her countless flowers, in the blood-soaked fields and floating along the shores. She saw quite a few Zaporizhian trousers stained with tar, muscular arms with black whips. The Cossacks overate and broke all the grapes; whole heaps of manure were left in the mosques; expensive Persian shawls were used instead of glasses and girded soiled scrolls with them. Long after that Zaporizhzhya short cradles were found in those places. They swam merrily back; a ten-gun Turkish ship was chasing them, and with a volley of all its guns, it dispersed their frail boats like birds. A third of them drowned in the depths of the sea, but the rest gathered together again and arrived at the mouth of the Dnieper with twelve barrels full of sequins. But all this no longer interested Taras. He went to the meadows and steppes, as if hunting, but his charge remained unfired. And, laying down his gun, full of anguish, he sat down on the seashore. He sat there for a long time, bowing his head, and kept saying: "Ostap is mine! Ostap is mine!" The Black Sea sparkled and spread before him; a seagull was crying in the distant reeds; his white mustache was silvery, and tears dripped one after another. And finally Taras could not stand it. "Whatever it is, I'll go to find out what he is: is he alive? In the grave? Or is he already not even in the grave itself? I'll find out at all costs!" And a week later he found himself in the city of Uman, armed, on horseback, with a spear, a saber, a travel bag at the saddle, a camping pot with salamata, powder cartridges, horse fetters and other projectiles. He drove straight up to an unclean, soiled house, in which the small windows were barely visible, smoked with who knows what; the pipe was plugged with a rag, and the holey roof was all covered with sparrows. A pile of rubbish lay in front of the very doors. From the window peeped the head of a Jewess, in a cap with darkened pearls. - Husband at home? - said Bulba, dismounting from his horse and tying the reins to an iron hook, which was at the very door. “At home,” said the Jewess, and hurried out at the same hour with wheat in a crust for the horse and a stack of beer for the knight. - Where is your Jew? “He is praying in another room,” said the Jewess, bowing and wishing good health at the time when Bulba raised the foot to his lips. - Stay here, feed and water my horse, and I'll go talk to him alone. I have business with him. This Jew was the famous Yankel. He had already found himself here as a tenant and innkeeper; Gradually he took all the lords and gentry of the district into his own hands, gradually sucked out almost all the money and greatly signified his Jewish presence in that country. At a distance of three miles in all directions, not a single hut remained in order: everything fell down and decrepit, everything got drunk, and only poverty and rags remained; like after a fire or a plague, the whole region was weathered. And if Yankel had lived there for another ten years, he would probably have weathered the entire province. Taras entered the room. Jew mo-

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Meeting Andriy and Poles:
1835:
“And your comrades, and your father? You must go to them,” she said quietly. Her lips moved for a long time without words, and her eyes, full of tears, did not leave him.
- What are you saying! - said Andriy with all the strength and strength of will. - What would my love be then, when I threw for you only what is easy to throw! No, my panna, no, my beautiful! I don’t love so much: father, brother, mother, fatherland, everything that is on earth - I give everything for you, goodbye everything! I'm yours now! I am yours! what else do you want?
She bowed her head towards him. He felt her electric fiery cheek touch his cheek, and a kiss—oh, what a kiss! - twisted their mouths, stuck to each other.
1842:
“Do not deceive yourself and me, knight,” she said, shaking her beautiful head quietly, “I know and, to my great grief, I know too well that you cannot love me; and I know what duty and covenant your : your name is father, comrades, fatherland, and we are your enemies.
- And what about my father, comrades and fatherland! - said Andriy, shaking his head quickly and straightening his whole straight, like a prairie black-sorrel, his camp. - So if so, so here's the thing: I don't have anyone! Nobody, nobody! he repeated in the same voice, accompanying it with that movement of the hand with which the resilient, indestructible Cossack expresses his determination to do something unheard of and impossible for another. - Who said that my homeland is Ukraine? Who gave it to me in the homeland? The fatherland is what our soul seeks, which is sweeter for it than anything. My motherland is you! Here is my homeland! And I will carry this homeland in my heart, I will carry it until it becomes my age, and I will see if one of the Cossacks will tear it out of there! And everything that is, I will sell, give, ruin for such a homeland!
For a moment, dumbfounded, like a beautiful statue, she looked into his eyes and suddenly sobbed, and with a wonderful feminine impetuosity, which only an incalculably magnanimous woman, created for a beautiful heart movement, is capable of, she threw herself on his neck, clasping him with snow-like, wonderful hands, and sobbed. At this time, indistinct cries were heard in the street, accompanied by the sound of a trumpet and a timpani. But he didn't hear them. He only heard how her wondrous lips showered him with the fragrant warmth of their breath, how her tears flowed in streams onto his face, and her fragrant hair, falling down from her head, entangled him all with its dark and shining silk.

At this time, a Tatar woman ran up to them with a joyful cry.
- Saved, saved! she screamed, beside herself. - Our entered the city, brought bread, millet, flour and related Cossacks.
But none of them heard what "ours" entered the city, what they brought with them and what Cossacks they tied up. Full of feelings not on earth to be tasted, Andrii kissed those fragrant lips that clung to his cheek, and the fragrant lips were not unanswerable. They responded in the same way, and in this mutually merged kiss one felt that which only once in a life is given to a person to feel.
And the Cossack died! Lost for the entire Cossack chivalry! He will no longer see Zaporozhye, nor his father's farms, nor the Church of God! Ukraine will never see the bravest of her children, who undertook to protect her. Old Taras will tear out a gray tuft of hair from his chuprin and curse both the day and the hour in which he gave birth to such a son to his shame.

Murder of Andriy:
1835:
"Daddy, did you kill him?
- Me, son!
Ostap's face expressed a kind of silent reproach. He rushed to hug his comrade and companion, with whom for twenty years they grew up together, lived in half.
- Enough, son, enough! Let's carry the dead body, bury it! - said Taras, who at that time squeezed in his chest the caustic feeling that was approaching. "
1842:
“Batko, what did you do? Did you kill him?” said Ostap, who had arrived at that moment.
Taras nodded his head.
Ostap looked intently into the eyes of the dead man. He felt sorry for his brother, and he immediately said:
“Let us betray him, father, honestly to the ground, so that enemies do not scold him and birds of prey do not tear his bodies apart.
- They will bury him without us! - said Taras, - he will have mourners and comforters!
And for two minutes he thought whether to throw him at the plunder of the raw wolves or to spare his knightly prowess, which the brave should respect in anyone.

"Scene of Anger":
1835:
- How can our faith in Christ be persecuted by the accursed Jew? to do such things with Orthodox Christians in order to torture ours like that, and even whom? colonels and the hetman himself! Yes, so that we endure all this? No, this will not happen!
1842:
- How! so that the Jews would keep Christian churches on lease! so that the priests harness the shafts of Orthodox Christians! How! to allow such torment on Russian soil from damned mistrust! to treat the colonels and the hetman like this! Yes, this will not be, it will not be!

The course of the military campaign:
1835:
"One of them was led by Bulba. Advanced years, fame and experience gave him a significant advantage in the council; but his inexorable and ferocious cruelty seemed terrible even for deeply offended defenders. His council breathed only one extermination, and his gray head determined only fire and the gallows .
I will not describe those battles where the Cossacks distinguished themselves, nor the gradual course of the entire great campaign: this belongs to history. It depicts in detail how the Polish garrisons fled from the liberated cities, how the unscrupulous tenant-Jews were hung up, how weak was the crown hetman Nikolai Pototsky with his numerous army against this irresistible force, how, defeated, pursued, he drowned the best part of his troops, how formidable Cossack regiments encircled him in the small town of Polonny, and how the Polish hetman, driven to extremes, promised on oath complete satisfaction in everything on the part of the king and state officials and the return of all former rights and advantages; but the Cossacks, taught by their former treachery, were inexorable, and Pototsky would not have flaunted more on his six thousandth argamak, attracting the eyes of noble ladies and the envy of the nobility, if the Russian clergy who were in the town had not saved him.
1842:
“And between those Cossacks, between those eight regiments, one regiment was the most selective of all, and Taras Bulba led that regiment. even to the Cossacks themselves, his merciless ferocity and cruelty seemed excessive.Only fire and the gallows were determined by his gray head, and his advice in the military council breathed only one extermination.
There is no need to describe all the battles where the Cossacks showed themselves, nor the entire gradual course of the campaign: all this is included in the chronicle pages. It is known what kind of war is waged for the faith in the Russian land: there is no force stronger than faith. It is irresistible and formidable, like a miraculous rock in the midst of a stormy, ever-changing sea. From the very middle of the seabed, it raises its impenetrable walls to heaven, all created from one solid, solid stone. It is visible from everywhere and looks straight into the eyes of the passing waves. And woe to the ship that will strike her! His powerless tackles fly into the wood chips, everything that is on them sinks and breaks into dust, and the stricken air resounds with the pitiful cry of the perishing.
The annalistic pages depict in detail how the Polish garrisons fled from the liberated cities; how the unscrupulous tenant-Jews were hanged; how weak was the crown hetman Nikolai Pototsky with his numerous army against this irresistible force; how, defeated, pursued, he drowned the best part of his army in a small river; how the formidable Cossack regiments encircled him in the small town of Polonny, and how, driven to the extreme, the Polish hetman swore an oath to complete satisfaction in everything on the part of the king and state officials and the return of all former rights and advantages. But the Cossacks were not such as to succumb to this: they already knew what the Polish oath was. And Pototsky would no longer have flaunted on his six thousandth argamak, attracting the eyes of noble panns and the envy of the nobility, he would not have made noise at the diets, setting luxurious feasts for senators, if the Russian clergy who were in the town had not saved him.

Death of Taras:
1835:
“At that very time, he felt himself in strong hands, was seized by a detachment that had come running from the rear and cut off from his own. He moved his limbs, but the haiduks who seized him no longer fell to the ground, as had happened before. “Oh, old age, old age! "- he said, almost without crying. They tied his hands, tied him with ropes and chains, tied him to a huge log, right hand, for greater safety, they nailed it and put this log with a rub in a crack in the wall, so who he stood above all and was visible to all troops, like a victorious trophy of luck. The wind blew his white hair. It seemed that he was standing in the air, and this, together with an expression of great impotence, made him something like a spirit that appeared to prevent something with its supernatural power and saw its insignificance. His face showed no concern for himself. He fixed his eyes in the direction where the Cossacks were firing back. He could see everything from a height as in the palm of his hand.
“Occupy, lads,” he shouted, occupy, enemy children, I tell you, rather, a hill that is beyond the forest: they will not approach there!
But the wind did not carry his words.
- Here they will disappear, they will disappear for nothing! - he said furiously and looked down, where the Dniester glittered. A sense of joy flashed in his eyes. He saw three sterns protrude from behind the bushes. He gathered all his strength and shouted so that he almost deafened those standing near him:
- Boys, to the shore! to the shore! Under the steep, where the fortress, there are boats, and after you twenty steps down to the shore! Yes, take all the boats so that there is no chase!
This time the wind blew from the other side, and all the words were heard by the Cossacks. But a blow to the head with a butt for such advice turned everything upside down in his eyes. He was lowered along with the log below, so that he could no longer give his instructions ...
... When Bulba woke up a little from his blow and looked at the Dniester, he saw under his feet the Cossacks, getting into boats. His eyes sparkled with joy. A hail of bullets rained down on the Cossacks from above, but they paid no attention and rolled away from the banks.
- Farewell, brethren, comrades! he told them from above. - Remember another hour about me! Don't worry about my fate! I know my fate: I know that I will be torn to pieces alive and that a piece of my body will not be left on the ground - but that is my business ... Be healthy, pan-brothers, comrades! Yes, look, come again next summer, and take a good walk! .. - a blow on the head with a butt cut off his speech.
Damn it! Is there anything in the world that a Cossack would be afraid of? Not a small river Dniester; and as the wind drives from the sea, the shaft whips up to the very moon. The Cossacks sailed under bullets and shots, carefully passed the green islands, straightened the sail well, struck the oars in unison and measuredly and talked about their chieftain.
1842:
“And in the meantime, a gang suddenly ran up and grabbed him under his mighty shoulders. He moved with all his members, but the haiduks who seized him no longer fell to the ground, as happened before. “Oh, old age, old age!” old Cossack. But old age was not the fault: strength overcame strength. Little more than thirty people hung from his arms and legs. "Caught a crow! shouted the Poles. “Now you just need to figure out what the best honor to give him, the dog.” And with the hetman’s permission, they ordered him to be baked alive in front of everyone. they nailed his hands with a nail and, lifting him higher so that the Cossack could be seen from everywhere, they immediately began to build a fire under the tree. But Taras did not look at the fire, he did not think about the fire with which they were going to burn him; , where the Cossacks shot back: from a height everything was visible to him at a glance.
- Occupy, lads, occupy quickly, - he shouted, - a hill that is beyond the forest: they will not approach there!
But the wind did not carry his words.
- Here, they will disappear, they will disappear for nothing! - he said desperately and looked down, where the Dniester sparkled. Joy flashed in his eyes. He saw four sterns protruding from behind the bushes, gathered all the strength of his voice and loudly shouted:
- To the shore! to the shore, lads! Go down the piedmont path to the left. There are boats near the shore, take everything away so that there is no chase!
This time the wind blew from the other side, and all the words were heard by the Cossacks. But for such advice, he immediately got a blow on the head with a butt, which turned everything upside down in his eyes ...
... When Taras Bulba woke up from the blow and looked at the Dniester, the Cossacks were already on the canoes and rowing with oars; bullets rained down on them from above, but did not reach them. And the joyful eyes of the old ataman flashed.
- Farewell, comrades! he shouted at them from above. -Remember me and next spring come here again and have a good walk! What did you get, damn Poles? Do you think there is anything in the world that a Cossack would be afraid of? Wait, the time will come, the time will come, you will know what the Orthodox Russian faith is! Even now peoples, far and near, sense that their tsar is rising from the Russian land, and there will be no power in the world that would not submit to him! ..
And already the fire was rising above the bonfire, seizing his legs and spreading flames over the tree ... But is there really such fires, torments and such a force in the world that would overpower the Russian force!
The Dniester River is a considerable one, and there are many backwaters, thick river reeds, shoals and deep-bottomed places on it; the river mirror gleams, announced by the sonorous moaning of swans, and the proud goldeneye quickly rushes along it, and there are many waders, red-throated kurukhtans and all sorts of other birds in the reeds and on the shores. The Cossacks sailed briskly on narrow two-wheeled canoes, rowed together with oars, cautiously passed the shallows, arousing the rising birds, and talked about their chieftain.

INTERMINATE whom, what. COMMIT TO THE EARTH whom, what. High Bury, bury. - Let us betray him, father, honestly to the ground, so that enemies do not quarrel over him and birds of prey do not tear his bodies away(Gogol. Taras Bulba). He wanted to pay the last debt to the deceased and betray the body to his land as soon as possible.(Grigorovich. Fishermen).

• - someone, something to whom and what. 1. to whom. To betray a friend to enemies. Only at home did he remember that he owed these cheerful people to the hands of the gendarmes. 2. what. Deliver execution. Put to death. To be ridiculed...

  Management in Russian

• - preda/m, -yes/sh, -yes/st, -dadi/m, -dadi/te, -dadu/t...

  Spelling Dictionary of the Russian Language

• - BETRAY, betray, betray, betray, betray, betray, betray, led. betray, past temp. betrayed, betrayed, betrayed; betrayer, accomplice , someone. one...

  Dictionary Ushakov

• - This word was borrowed from the Old Slavonic language, where it was formed by the prefix method from the date - "give". The literal meaning of "hand over" undergoes a shift over time to today's "to hand over to the enemy" ...

  Etymological Dictionary of the Russian Language by Krylov

• - ANATHEMATIC. ANATHEMIS. Express. 1. whom. excommunicate someone from the church. In 1667, the Moscow Cathedral anathematized the disobedient double-faced church: they responded to an anathema with an anathema ...
• - PUBLISH that. PUBLICATE that. Book. To make something publicly known; publish. They rob the cashier in the bank - the entire press unanimously and loudly publicizes both theft and the thief ...

  Phraseological dictionary of the Russian literary language

• - B/C Ch. see _Appendix II betrayed and betrayed 235 esp.

  Dictionary of Russian accents

• - BETRAY, -am, -ash, -ast, -adim, -adite, -adut; betrayed and betrayed, -ala, -alo; -ay; -avshiy; devoted; sovereign, whom. 1. what. expose the action of something., give away. P. court. P. oblivion. P. earth. P. fire. 2...

  Explanatory dictionary of Ozhegov

• - betray owls. transition...

  Explanatory Dictionary of Efremova

• - Loans. from st.-sl. lang. Pref. derivative of give "give". Literally - "transfer" ...

  Etymological dictionary of the Russian language

• - Cm....

  IN AND. Dal. Proverbs of the Russian people

• - whom, what. Book. Bury, bury. FSRYA, 354...

  Big dictionary of Russian sayings

• - ...

  Word forms

• - change,...

  Synonym dictionary

• - Cm....

  Synonym dictionary

• - bury, bury, bury, bury, spend in the last ...

  Synonym dictionary

"Commit to the Earth" in books

CHAPTER 4

From the book Vision of Tantra. Discourses on the Royal Song of Saraha (Book 2) author Rajneesh Bhagwan Shri

CHAPTER 4. TRUST CANNOT BE BETRAYED The first question: Beloved OSHO, why do I always wonder married women? This is nothing special, it is the most common disease, while it has reached almost epidemic proportions. But there is a reason for that. For millions

betray yourself

From the book Three births of man. Baikal meetings author Nekrasov Anatoly Alexandrovich

Betray Yourself This is the final chapter of our story about three births on Baikal. It was not easy to stop, since there are still many revelations and remarkable processes, but the format of the book forces one to make such a decision at some point. Why is this chapter interesting? In her

Time to betray

From the book Gopakiada author Vershinin Lev Removich

Deceived in the best of feelings and extremely offended by the Nazis, but not having much choice, the "Bandera" subdued emotions, diligently serving the owners right up to the end of 1942, when, analyzing the course of events on the Volga, the leaders of the OUN (b) came to the conclusion : time

To betray in time means to foresee

From the book 100 great intrigues author Eremin Viktor Nikolaevich

To betray in time means to foresee The most cunning of the cunning, the most insidious of the cunning, multiple French Foreign Minister Charles Maurice Talleyrand in his life made a number of such cool political somersaults that one such betrayal was enough for someone else

"We cannot betray this people"

From the author's book

“We cannot betray this people” - Natalia Alekseevna, after the shock, the horror of the first days of Saakashvili's war with the people of South Ossetia, the destruction of Tskhinval, has passed, let's return to the origins of that disaster. It didn’t start out of nowhere. - Ossetians as a single people, without

"Submit to court-martial..."

From the book War: Accelerated Life author Somov Konstantin Konstantinovich

“Submit to trial by a military tribunal ...” All this led to the fact that already on August 11, 1941, Order No.

Consign to oblivion

From the book of Valois author Sypek Robert

Consign to oblivion An important element of the urban plan of Paris at the turn of the XVI-XVII centuries was the Royal Square, after French Revolution known as Place des Vosges. It was broken on the site of a horse fair near the Turnel Palace - residence

WE CANNOT BETRAY HIM

From the book Doggy Matters author Basanovich Marina Borisovna

WE CANNOT BETRAY HIM All my stories begin with phone calls, often disturbing, rarely funny, in general, different. If we add here that they are not always distributed only during working hours, then it will be clear to the schoolchild that my life flows completely

Don't forget

From the book Literary Newspaper 6315 (№ 11 2011) author Literary Newspaper

Do not consign to oblivion The living and the dead Do not consign to oblivion CRY OF THE SOUL I have subscribed to your newspaper for a long time, since 1966? I carefully read all the publications in it. I am very grateful to you for your attentive and sensitive attitude to the problems that concern people, for the breadth of views on everything

Consign to oblivion

From the book God and His Image. Outline of Biblical Theology author Barthelemy Dominic

Consigned to Oblivion The generation that crossed the Red Sea and on the deserted shore sang with delight around Moses the song of liberation has already departed to the forefathers. However, only a few days later it had already managed to forget about the power of God. But now Israel is represented

Judas decides to betray Jesus

author bible

Judas decides to betray Jesus (Matt. 26:14-16; Luke 22:3-6)10 Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve, went to the chief priests to betray Jesus to them. 11 When they heard why he had come, they rejoiced and promised to pay him. And Judas began to look for an opportunity to betray

Judas decides to betray Jesus

From the book of the Bible. New Russian translation (NRT, RSJ, Biblica) author bible

Judas decides to betray Jesus (Matt. 26:14-16; Mark 14:10-11)3 Then Satan entered into Judas, who was called Iscariot, one of the twelve. 4 Judas went and talked to the chief priests and the captains of the temple guard about how he could betray Jesus to them. 5 They rejoiced and promised

17. bring with you all the animals that are with you, from all flesh, from birds, and cattle, and all creeping things that creep on the earth: let them disperse on the earth, and let them be fruitful and multiply on the earth

author Lopukhin Alexander

17. bring with you all the animals that are with you, from all flesh, from birds, and cattle, and all creeping things that creep on the earth: let them disperse on the earth, and let them be fruitful and multiply on the earth "let them be fruitful and multiply on the earth ..." About these words of the divine

27. And Israel dwelt in the land of Egypt, in the land of Goshen, and they owned it, and were fruitful, and greatly multiplied. 28 And Jacob lived in the land of Egypt seventeen years; and the days of Jacob, the years of his life, were one hundred and forty-seven years

From the book Explanatory Bible. Volume 1 author Lopukhin Alexander

27. And Israel dwelt in the land of Egypt, in the land of Goshen, and they owned it, and were fruitful, and greatly multiplied. 28 And Jacob lived in the land of Egypt seventeen years; and the days of Jacob, the years of his life, were one hundred and forty-seven years.

CHAPTER 14 TRUST CANNOT BE BETRAYED

From the book The Essence of Tantra author Rajneesh Bhagwan Shri

CHAPTER 14 TRUST CANNOT BE BETRAYED MAY 4, 1977 The first question: Beloved Osho, why am I always interested in married women? This is nothing special, it is the most common disease that has reached almost epidemic proportions. But there is a reason for that. For