When to put a dash. V General rules Analytical reading “The Miserly Knight”

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"The Stingy Knight"- a dramatic work (play), conceived in 1826 (the plan dates back to the beginning of January 1826); created in the Boldino autumn of 1830, it is part of Pushkin’s cycle of small tragedies. The play was filmed.

The Miserly Knight shows the corrupting, dehumanizing, devastating power of gold. Pushkin was the first in Russian literature to notice the terrible power of money.

The result in the play is the words of the Duke:

...Terrible century - Terrible hearts...

With amazing depth, the author reveals the psychology of stinginess, but most importantly, the origins that feed it. The type of stingy knight is revealed as a product of a certain historical era. At the same time, in the tragedy the poet rises to a broad generalization of the inhumanity of the power of gold.

Pushkin does not resort to any moral teachings or discussions on this topic, but with the entire content of the play he illuminates the immorality and crime of such relations between people in which everything is determined by the power of gold.

Obviously, in order to avoid possible biographical connections (everyone knew the stinginess of the poet’s father, S.L. Pushkin, and his difficult relationship with his son), Pushkin passed off this completely original play as a translation from a non-existent English original.

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See what “The Miserly Knight” is in other dictionaries:

The hero of the dramatic scenes of the same name (1830) by A. S. Pushkin (1799 1837), a miser and a miser. A common noun for people of this type (ironic). encyclopedic Dictionary popular words and expressions. M.: Locked Press. Vadim Serov. 2003 ... Dictionary of popular words and expressions

- “THE MISTERY KNIGHT”, Russia, Moscow theater “Vernissage”/Culture, 1999, color, 52 min. Teleplay, tragicomedy. Based on the drama of the same name by A. S. Pushkin from the series “Little Tragedies”. Cast: Georgy Menglet (see MENGLET Georgy Pavlovich), Igor... ... Encyclopedia of Cinema

Noun, number of synonyms: 1 miser (70) Dictionary of synonyms ASIS. V.N. Trishin. 2013… Synonym dictionary

A young rake is waiting for a date
With some wicked libertine
Or a fool, deceived by him, so am I
I've been waiting all day for minutes to get off.
To my secret basement, to my faithful chests.
Happy day! I can today
To the sixth chest (to the chest still incomplete)
Pour in a handful of accumulated gold.
Not much, it seems, but little by little
Treasures are growing. I read somewhere
That the king would once give his soldiers
He ordered the earth to be demolished, handful by handful, into a pile,
And the proud hill rose - and the king
I could look around with joy from above
And the valley covered with white tents,
And the sea where the ships fled.
So I, bringing the poor handful by handful
I’m used to my tribute here in the basement,
He lifted up my hill - and from its height
I can look at everything that is under my control.
What is beyond my control? like some kind of demon
From now on I can rule the world;
As soon as I want, palaces will be erected;
To my magnificent gardens
The nymphs will come running in a playful crowd;
And the muses will bring me their tribute,
And the free genius will become my slave,
And virtue and sleepless labor
They will humbly await my reward.
I will whistle, and obediently, timidly
Bloody villainy will creep in,
And he will lick my hand and my eyes
Look, there is a sign of my reading in them.
Everything obeys me, but I obey nothing;
I am above all desires; I am calm;
I know my strength: I have enough
This consciousness...

(Looks at his gold.)

It doesn't seem like much
And how many human worries,
Deceptions, tears, prayers and curses
It is a heavy representative!
There is an old doubloon here... here it is. Today
The widow gave it to me, but first
Half a day in front of the window with three children
She was on her knees howling.
It rained, and stopped, and then started again,
The pretender did not move; I could
Drive her away, but something whispered to me,
What husband's debt she brought me
And he won’t want to be in jail tomorrow.
And this one? This one was brought to me by Thibault -
Where could he, the sloth, the rogue, get it?
He stole it, of course; or maybe,
There on high road, at night, in the grove...
Yes! if all the tears, blood and sweat,
Spilled for everything that is stored here,
Suddenly everyone emerged from the bowels of the earth,
It would be a flood again - I would choke
In my cellars of the faithful. But it's time.

(Wants to unlock the chest.)

Every time I want a chest
My unlock, I fall into heat and trembling.
Not fear (oh no! who should I be afraid of?
I have my sword with me: it is responsible for gold
Honest damask steel), but my heart is tight
Some unknown feeling...
Doctors assure us: there are people
Those who find pleasure in killing.
When I put the key in the lock, the same
I feel what I should feel
They are stabbing the victim with a knife: nice
And scary together.

(Unlocks the chest.)

This is my bliss!

(Pours in money.)

Go, you've got plenty of time to scour the world,
Serving the passions and needs of man.
Fall asleep here in the sleep of strength and peace,
How the gods sleep in the deep skies...
I want to throw myself a feast today:
I will light a candle in front of each chest,
And I’ll unlock them all, and I’ll stand there myself
Among them, look at the shining piles.

(Lights candles and unlocks the chests one by one.)

Like a young rake waiting for a date
With some wicked libertine
Or a fool, deceived by him, so am I
I've been waiting all day for minutes to get off.
To my secret basement, to my faithful chests.
Happy day! I can today
To the sixth chest (to the chest still incomplete)
Pour in a handful of accumulated gold.
Not much, it seems, but little by little
Treasures are growing. I read somewhere
That the king would once give his soldiers
He ordered the earth to be demolished, handful by handful, into a pile,
And the proud hill rose - and the king
I could look around with joy from above
And the valley covered with white tents,
And the sea where the ships fled.
So I, bringing the poor handful by handful
I’m used to my tribute here in the basement,
He lifted up my hill - and from its height
I can look at everything that is under my control.
What is beyond my control? like some kind of demon
From now on I can rule the world;
As soon as I want, palaces will be erected;
To my magnificent gardens
The nymphs will come running in a playful crowd;
And the muses will bring me their tribute,
And the free genius will become my slave,
And virtue and sleepless labor
They will humbly await my reward.
I will whistle, and obediently, timidly
Bloody villainy will creep in,
And he will lick my hand and my eyes
Look, there is a sign of my reading in them.
Everything obeys me, but I obey nothing;
I am above all desires; I am calm;
I know my strength: I have enough
This consciousness...

(Looks at his gold.)

It doesn't seem like much
And how many human worries,
Deceptions, tears, prayers and curses
It is a heavy representative!
There is an old doubloon here... here it is. Today
The widow gave it to me, but first
Half a day in front of the window with three children
She was on her knees howling.
It rained, and stopped, and then started again,
The pretender did not move; I could
Drive her away, but something whispered to me,
What husband's debt she brought me
And he won’t want to be in jail tomorrow.
And this one? This one was brought to me by Thibault -
Where could he, the sloth, the rogue, get it?
He stole it, of course; or maybe,
There on the high road, at night, in the grove...
Yes! if all the tears, blood and sweat,
Spilled for everything that is stored here,
Suddenly everyone emerged from the bowels of the earth,
It would be a flood again - I would choke
In my cellars of the faithful. But it's time.

(Wants to unlock the chest.)

(Unlocks the chest.)

This is my bliss!

(Pours in money.)

(Lights candles and unlocks the chests one by one.)

I reign!.. What a magical shine!
Obedient to me, my power is strong;
In her is happiness, in her is my honor and glory!
I reign... but who will follow me
Will he take power over her? My heir!
Madman, young spendthrift,
Libertine riotous interlocutor!
As soon as I die, he, he! will come down here
Under these peaceful, silent arches
With a crowd of caresses, greedy courtiers.
Having stolen the keys from my corpse,
He will open the chests with laughter.
And my treasures will flow
In satin ripped pockets.
He will break the sacred vessels,
He will give the dirt the royal oil to drink -
He will waste... And by what right?
Did I get all this for nothing?
Or jokingly, like a player who
Rattling bones and raking piles?
Who knows how many bitter abstinences,
Bridled passions, heavy thoughts,
Daytime worries, sleepless nights for me
Was it all worth it? Or the son will say,
That my heart is overgrown with moss,
That I didn't know the desires that made me
And conscience never gnawed, conscience,
A clawed beast, scraping the heart, conscience,
Uninvited guest, annoying interlocutor,
The lender is rude, this witch,
From which the month and the graves fade
They get embarrassed and send out the dead?..
No, first suffer for yourself wealth,
And then we'll see if he becomes unhappy
To squander what you have acquired with blood.
Oh, if only I could from unworthy glances
I hide the basement! oh, if only from the grave
I could come as a sentry shadow
Sit on the chest and away from the living
Keep my treasures as they are now!..

Analytical reading "The Miserly Knight"

The theme of the power of money. Its harmful effects
artistic expression has found its way into the human soul
embodiment in the tragedy “The Miserly Knight”,
opening the cycle.
Time period - Middle Ages. The very name "The Miserly Knight"
contains incompatible concepts (oxymoron). Knight -
symbol of courage, boldness, honor, generosity. If the knight became
stingy is a tragedy.
Baron's monologue is central to the tragedy. And such a monologue could
only a brilliant poet could compose.
What is beyond my control? Like some kind of demon
From now on I will rule the world;
As soon as I want, palaces will be erected;
To my magnificent gardens
The nymphs will come running in a playful crowd;
And the muses will bring me their tribute;
And the free genius will become my slave,
And virtue and sleepless labor
They will humbly await my reward.
The Baron voluptuously dreams of the impossible, but it seems to him
that gold can do anything, and money is "food for its mind-blowing
fantasies." He is aware of his unlimited power and his
own omnipotence:
Everything obeys me, but I obey nothing;
I am above all desires; I am calm;
I know my strength: I have enough
This consciousness...
But it only seems to him that gold gave him omnipotent power
and freedom from everything - he is not free, he could not overcome the “slavery
at your own treasures"; and Albert, his son, speaks well of this:
ABOUT! my father has no servants and no friends
He sees them as masters; and he serves them himself.
And how does it serve? Like an Algerian slave
Like a chained dog. In an unheated kennel
Lives, drinks water, eats dry crusts,
He doesn’t sleep all night, he keeps running and barking.-
And the gold is calm in the chests
Lies to himself...
But gold, and the Baron understands this perfectly, has a demonic
by force:
What is beyond my control? Like some kind of demon
From now on I can rule the world...
Since gold has demonic power, it is
“the concentration of evil, crimes, shed blood and shed tears,
suffering of the soul and suffering of the body."
Yes! If all the tears, blood and sweat,
Spilled for everything that is stored here,
Suddenly everyone emerged from the bowels of the earth,
It would be a flood again - I would choke
In my cellars of the faithful.
Here Pushkin creates a very powerful artistic image
gold. The very feeling of being the owner of countless treasures
akin to criminal passion:
Every time I want a chest
My unlock, I fall into heat and trembling.
Not fear (oh no! who should I be afraid of?
I have my sword with me: it is responsible for gold
Honest damask steel), but my heart is tight
Some unknown feeling...
Doctors assure us: there are people
Those who find pleasure in killing.
When I put the key in the lock, the same
I feel what I should feel
They are stabbing the victim with a knife: nice
And scary together.
The Baron's greed cannot be compared even with love
passion, it is much stronger:
I want to throw myself a feast today:
I will light a candle in front of each chest,
And I’ll unlock them all, and I’ll stand there myself
Among them, look at the shining piles.
I reign!.. What a magical shine!
Obedient to me, my power is strong;
In her is happiness, in her is my honor and glory!
I reign...
But such jubilation is later replaced by a story about what
the price was paid:
Did I get all this for nothing?
Or jokingly, like a player who
Rattling bones and raking piles?
Who knows how many bitter abstinences,
Bridled passions, heavy thoughts,
Daytime worries, sleepless nights for me
Was it all worth it? Or the son will say,
That my heart is overgrown with moss,
That I didn't know the desires that made me
And conscience never gnawed, conscience,
A clawed beast, scraping the heart, conscience,
Uninvited guest, annoying interlocutor,
The lender is rude, this witch,
From which the month fades, and the graves
Are they embarrassed and send the dead away?
The Baron overcame everything, withstood everything, but his soul turned to stone, well
and what is the soul to him?
The soul is too great a luxury for a man whose thoughts
busy only with gold. Gold is his ideal.
There is another character in the tragedy - a Jew, this is a different species
the destructive power of gold. It is natural for him
invite Albert to poison his father. Everything is poisoned by gold.
What is opposed in the tragedy to the destructive power of gold?
It would be natural to assume that this is Albert's son. Albert
opposes his father, condemns his passion for gold, which made him a miser.
He is, of course, taller than his father, he refused to poison him. But
After all, this is natural, you can’t consider a normal filial feeling
feat. He refuses even to accept "smelling poison"
chervonets." This is also normal. But he also strives for earthly goods,
but understands them differently than the baron - the way his
"Rampant knightly youth." He also needs money: to
participate in knightly tournaments, be at balls in all their splendor
outfit, but no more. And who knows time will pass- and he will surpass
in the father's money-grubbing ways. There is one more very important point.
It is the son who becomes responsible for the death of his father: he happily
accepts the Baron's challenge to a duel, hastily picking up the thrown
glove (“I dug my nails into it! - Monster!”). And just such an act
son caused the death of his father. But he dies with the words:
Where are the keys?
Keys, my keys!..
The tragedy ends with the words of the Duke:
God!
Terrible age, terrible hearts!
This is real horror from what we saw and heard. SCENE II Basement. Baron Like a young rake waiting for a date with some crafty libertine or fool deceived by him, so I waited all day for a minute when I would go down to my secret basement, to my faithful chests. Happy day! Today I can pour a handful of accumulated gold into the sixth chest (into the chest that is still incomplete). Not much, it seems, but little by little the Treasures are growing. I read somewhere that the king once ordered his soldiers to demolish the earth by the handful into a heap, and the proud hill rose up - and the king could look down with joy from above And the valley covered with white tents, And the sea where the ships fled. So I, bringing my usual tribute here into the basement, poor handful by handful, raised my hill - and from its height I can look at everything that is subject to me. What is beyond my control? As a certain demon, I can now rule the world; As soon as I want, palaces will be erected; Nymphs will flock to my magnificent gardens in a playful crowd; And the muses will bring me their tribute, And the free genius will be enslaved to me, And virtue and sleepless work will humbly await my reward. I will whistle, and bloody villainy will obediently, timidly crawl towards me, And it will lick my hand, and Look into my eyes, reading the sign of my will in them. Everything obeys me, but I obey nothing; I am above all desires; I am calm; I know my power: this consciousness is enough for me... (Looks at his gold.) It seems not much, But how many human worries, Deceptions, tears, prayers and curses It is a ponderous representative! There is an old doubloon here... here it is. Today the Widow gave it to me, but before, with three children, half a day in front of the window She stood on her knees howling. It rained, and stopped, and began to rain again, The pretender did not move; I could have driven her away, but something whispered to me, That she brought me her husband’s debt and would not want to be in prison tomorrow. And this one? This one was brought to me by Thibault - Where could he, the sloth, the rogue, get it? He stole it, of course; or maybe there on the high road, at night, in the grove... Yes! If all the tears, blood and sweat, Shed for everything that is stored here, suddenly came out of the bowels of the earth, Then there would be a flood again - I would choke In my faithful basements. But it's time. (He wants to unlock the chest.) Every time I want to unlock My chest, I fall into heat and trembling. Not fear (oh no! who should I be afraid of? I have my sword with me: Honest damask steel is responsible for gold), but my heart is oppressed by some unknown feeling... Doctors assure us: there are people who find pleasure in killing. When I put the key in the lock, I feel the same way that They should feel when they plunge a knife into the victim: pleasant and scary together. (Unlocks the chest.) This is my bliss! (Pours in money.) Go, it’s enough for you to scour the world, Serving the passions and needs of man. Fall asleep here in the sleep of strength and peace, As the gods sleep in the deep heavens... I want to arrange a feast for myself today: I will light a candle in front of each chest, And I will open them all, and I myself will begin to look at the shining piles among them. (Lights candles and unlocks the chests one by one.) I reign!.. What a magical shine! Obedient to me, my power is strong; In her is happiness, in her is my honor and glory! I reign... but who, after me, will take power over her? My heir! A madman, a young spendthrift, a debauched interlocutor! As soon as I die, he, he! will come down here Under these peaceful, silent arches With a crowd of caresses, greedy courtiers. Having stolen the keys from my corpse, He will open the chests with laughter. And my treasures will flow into tattered satin pockets. He will break the sacred vessels, He will water the dirt with royal oil - He will waste... And by what right? Did I get all this for nothing, or jokingly, like a player who rattles his bones and rakes in piles? Who knows how many bitter abstinences, Bridled passions, heavy thoughts, Daytime worries, sleepless nights All this cost me? Or will my son say, That my heart is overgrown with moss, That I did not know desires, That my conscience has never gnawed at me, conscience, A clawed beast, scraping the heart, conscience, An uninvited guest, a tiresome interlocutor, A rude lender, this witch, From which it fades month and graves Are they embarrassed and send the dead away?.. No, first suffer for yourself wealth, And then we’ll see if the unfortunate one will waste what he acquired with blood. Oh, if only I could hide the basement from the eyes of unworthy people! Oh, if only I could come from the grave, sit on the chest as a sentry shadow and keep my Treasures from the living, as now!..