Quote characteristics of the Head

Quotes from the poem by A.S. are presented. Pushkin's "Ruslan and Lyudmila", characterizing one of the heroes - a living head. Quotes are accompanied by brief comments. This material will be useful when writing essays and preparing reports on the topics of the poem.

SONG THIRD

After the fight with Rogdai, Ruslan travels further in search of Lyudmila. On the way, he meets a sleeping living head the size of a hill and wakes it up. The disgruntled head threatens to swallow the uninvited guest. Ruslan is not afraid of threats and calls his head empty and stupid.

Suddenly the hill, palely illuminated by the cloudless moon in the fog, becomes clear; The brave prince looks and sees a miracle before him. Will I find colors and words? There is a living head in front of him.

Huge eyes covered in sleep; He snores, shaking his feathered helmet, And feathers in the dark heights, like shadows, walk, fluttering. In its terrible beauty, towering above the gloomy steppe, surrounded by silence, guardian of the nameless desert, it stands before Ruslan as a menacing and foggy mass. In bewilderment, he Mysteriously wants to destroy the dream. Looking closely at the wonder, he circled his head and stood silently before his nose; She tickled her nostrils with a spear, And, wincing, her head yawned, She opened her eyes and sneezed... A whirlwind arose, the steppe trembled, Dust flew up; a flock of owls flew from the eyelashes, from the mustache, from the eyebrows; The silent groves woke up, An echo sneezed - the zealous horse neighed, jumped, flew away, The knight himself barely sat, And after him a noisy voice was heard: “Where are you going, foolish knight? Step back, I'm not kidding! I’ll just swallow the impudence!” Ruslan looked around with contempt, held the reins of his horse and grinned with a proud look. "What do you want from me? - Frowning, the head cried out. - Fate sent me a guest! Listen, get away! I want to sleep, it’s night now, goodbye!” But the famous knight, hearing rude words, exclaimed with angry importance: “Be silent, empty head! I heard the truth, it happened: Although the forehead is wide, the brain is not enough! I’m driving, driving, not whistling, and when I get there, I won’t let you down!”

The head, in rage, blows with all its might at Ruslan, not allowing him to travel further, and teases him with a terrible tongue. Ruslan manages to thrust his spear into the insolent tongue. Taking advantage of the happy moment, the knight swings his head with a heavy mitten, and it rolls to the side. In the place where the head was, lies a heroic sword. Ruslan grabs it and rushes to the head with the intention of cutting off its nose and ears. The head groans and begs for mercy.

Then, numb from rage, constrained by flames of anger, the head swelled; like heat, Bloody eyes sparkled; Foaming, her lips trembled, Steam rose from her lips and ears - And suddenly she began to blow with all her might towards the prince; In vain the horse, closing its eyes, bowing its head, straining its chest, through the whirlwind, rain and darkness of the night, the Infidel continues on its way; Overwhelmed by fear, blinded, He rushes again, exhausted, far into the field to rest. The knight wants to turn again - Reflected again, there is no hope! And his head follows him, laughing like crazy, thundering: “Ay, knight! ah, hero! Where are you going? hush, hush, stop! Hey, knight, you'll break your neck for nothing; Don’t be afraid, rider, and please me with at least one blow, Before you kill the horse.” And meanwhile she teased the hero with a terrible language. Ruslan, vexed in the heart of the cut, Silently threatens her with a spear, Shakes it with his free hand, And, trembling, the cold damask steel plunges into the insolent tongue. And the blood ran instantly like a river from the furious throat. From surprise, pain, anger, In a moment of insolence lost, The head looked at the prince, Gnawing iron and turning pale In a calm spirit, heated, So sometimes in the middle of our scene Melpomene’s bad pet, Stunned by a sudden whistle, He doesn’t see anything, He turns pale, forgets his role, He trembles, hanging his head, And, stuttering, falls silent Before the mocking crowd. Taking advantage of the happy moment, To a head engulfed in embarrassment, Like a hawk, the hero flies with a raised, formidable right hand, And hits the head with a heavy mitten on the cheek; And the steppe resounded with a blow; The dewy grass all around was stained with bloody foam, And, staggering, the head turned over, rolled, and the cast-iron helmet clattered. Then, in the empty place, the heroic sword sparkled. Our knight, in joyful trepidation, grabbed Him and to the head He runs through the bloody grass with the cruel intention of cutting off Her nose and ears; Ruslan is already ready to strike, Already swung his broad sword - Suddenly, amazed, he listens to the head of the pleading pitiful moan... And quietly he lowers the sword, In him, the fierce anger dies, And stormy vengeance will fall In the soul, pacified by prayer: So the ice melts on the valley, With a ray noon amazed.

The head tells Ruslan the story that he used to be a knight, but due to the fault of his younger evil brother Chernomor, he lost his body, turned into a lying head and is now doomed to guard the magic sword forever. The head gives the sword to Ruslan and hopes that he will defeat Chernomor.

“You have brought me to reason, hero,” the head said with a sigh, “Your right hand has proven that I am guilty before you; From now on I am obedient to you; that But, knight, be generous! My lot is worthy of weeping. And I was a daring knight! In the bloody battles of the adversary I have not seen my equal; Happy when I don't have a younger brother as my rival! Insidious, evil Chernomor, You, you are the cause of all my troubles! Our family is a disgrace, Born a dwarf, with a beard, My wondrous growth from his youthful days He could not see without vexation And for that in his soul he began to hate Me, cruel. I was always a little simple, Although tall; and this unfortunate one, having the stupidest stature, is smart as a devil - and terribly angry. Moreover, know, to my misfortune, In his wonderful beard lies the fatal power, And, despising everything in the world, As long as the beard is intact, the Traitor does not fear evil. Here he was one day, with an air of friendship: “Listen,” he slyly told me, “Don’t refuse an important service: I found in black books that behind the eastern mountains, on the quiet shores of the sea, in a remote basement, under locks, a sword is kept - so what? fear! I made out in the magical darkness, That by the will of hostile fate, This sword will be known to us; That he will destroy us both: He will cut off my beard, Your head; judge for yourself how important it is for us to acquire this creation of evil spirits!” “Well, what then? where is the difficulty? “I told Karla, “I’m ready;” I’m going, even beyond the limits of the world.” And he put a pine tree on his shoulder, and sat his brother on the other for the advice of the Villain;

He set out on a long journey, walked, walked and, thank God, as if to spite the prophecy, Everything went happily at first. Beyond the distant mountains We found the fatal cellar; I swept it away with my hands and took out the hidden sword. But no! fate wanted it: A quarrel boiled between us - And it was, I confess, about what! Question: who should own the sword? I argued, Karla got excited; They fought for a long time; Finally, the cunning man came up with a trick, became quiet and seemed to soften. “Let’s leave the useless dispute,” Chernomor told me importantly, “We will disgrace our union; Reason commands us to live in the world; We will let fate decide who this sword belongs to. Let’s both put our ears to the ground (What evil can’t imagine!), And whoever hears the first ringing will wield the sword to the grave.” He said and lay down on the ground. I foolishly also stretched myself; I lie there, don’t hear anything, daring: I’ll deceive him! But he himself was cruelly deceived. The villain, in deep silence, stood up, tiptoed towards me, crept up behind me, swung his hand; Like a whirlwind, a sharp sword whistled, And before I looked back, My head had flown off my shoulders - And the supernatural force in her life stopped the spirit. My frame is overgrown with thorns; Far away, in a country forgotten by people, My unburied ashes have decayed; But the evil dwarf carried Me to this secluded land, Where I would forever guard the sword You took today. O knight! We keep you with fate, Take it, and God be with you! Perhaps on your way you will meet Carl the sorcerer - Oh, if you notice him, take revenge on deceit and malice! And finally I will be happy, I will leave this world in peace - And in my gratitude I will forget Your slap in the face.”

SONG FIFTH

Ruslan meets the head, talks about how he punished the villain dwarf and shows him Chernomor. The head recognizes his younger brother with horror, in rage and confusion mutters an inarticulate reproach and dies. Her long suffering ends.

Before them lies a plain, Where spruce sprouts sprout up; And a formidable hill in the distance The round top of Heaven turns black against the bright blue. Ruslan looks - and guesses what is driving up to his head; The greyhound horse ran faster; It’s a miracle of miracles; She looks with a motionless eye; Her hair is like a black forest, overgrown on her high brow; The cheeks are devoid of life, covered with leaden pallor; The huge lips are open, the teeth are huge and cramped... Above the half-dead head the last day was already weighing heavily. The brave knight flew to her with Lyudmila, with Karla at his back. He shouted: “Hello, head! I'm here! your traitor is punished! Look: here he is, our villain prisoner! And the prince’s proud words suddenly revived her, For a moment they awakened her feeling, She woke up as if from a dream, She looked up, groaned terribly... She recognized the knight And recognized her brother with horror. The nostrils flared; on the cheeks the crimson fire was still born, and in the dying eyes the final anger was depicted. In confusion, in a silent rage, She gnashed her teeth, And to her brother, with a cold tongue, she babbled an inarticulate reproach... Already at that very hour, her long suffering ended: The instantaneous flame of her forehead went out, Her heavy breathing faded, Her huge gaze rolled back, And soon the prince and Chernomor Beheld the shudder of death... She fell into eternal sleep. The knight left in silence; The trembling dwarf behind the saddle did not dare to breathe, did not move, and fervently prayed to the demons with a sorcerer’s tongue.