Resurrection

For Nekhludoff this early mass remained for ever after one of the

brightest and most vivid memories of his life. When he rode out

of the darkness, broken only here and there by patches of white

snow, into the churchyard illuminated by a row of lamps around

the church, the service had already begun.

The peasants, recognising Mary Ivanovna's nephew, led his horse,

which was pricking up its ears at the sight of the lights, to a

dry place where he could get off, put it up for him, and showed

him into the church, which was full of people. On the right stood

the peasants; the old men in home-spun coats, and clean white

linen bands [long strips of linen are worn by the peasants instead

of stockings] wrapped round their legs, the young men in new

cloth coats, bright-coloured belts round their waists, and

top-boots.

On the left stood the women, with red silk kerchiefs on their

heads, black velveteen sleeveless jackets, bright red

shirt-sleeves, gay-coloured green, blue, and red skirts, and

thick leather boots. The old women, dressed more quietly, stood

behind them, with white kerchiefs, homespun coats, old-fashioned

skirts of dark home-spun material, and shoes on their feet.

Gaily-dressed children, their hair well oiled, went in and out

among them.

The men, making the sign of the cross, bowed down and raised

their heads again, shaking back their hair.

The women, especially the old ones, fixed their eyes on an icon

surrounded with candies and made the sign of the cross, firmly

pressing their folded fingers to the kerchief on their foreheads,

to their shoulders, and their stomachs, and, whispering

something, stooped or knelt down. The children, imitating the

grown-up people, prayed earnestly when they knew that they were

being observed. The gilt case containing the icon glittered,

illuminated on all sides by tall candles ornamented with golden

spirals. The candelabra was filled with tapers, and from the

choir sounded most merry tunes sung by amateur choristers, with

bellowing bass and shrill boys' voices among them.

Nekhludoff passed up to the front. In the middle of the church

stood the aristocracy of the place: a landed proprietor, with his

wife and son (the latter dressed in a sailor's suit), the police

officer, the telegraph clerk, a tradesman in top-boots, and the

village elder, with a medal on his breast; and to the right of

the ambo, just behind the landed proprietor's wife, stood Matrona

Pavlovna in a lilac dress and fringed shawl and Katusha in a

white dress with a tucked bodice, blue sash, and red bow in her

black hair.

Everything seemed festive, solemn, bright, and beautiful: the

priest in his silver cloth vestments with gold crosses; the

deacon, the clerk and chanter in their silver and gold surplices;

the amateur choristers in their best clothes, with their

well-oiled hair; the merry tunes of the holiday hymns that

sounded like dance music; and the continual blessing of the

people by the priests, who held candles decorated with flowers,

and repeated the cry of "Christ is risen!" "Christ is risen!" All

was beautiful; but, above all, Katusha, in her white dress, blue

sash, and the red bow on her black head, her eyes beaming with

rapture.