Reading Master & Margarita 31

Chapter 31

On Sparrow Hills

So, they left Stravinsky’s clinic and accompanied Azazello. On the Sparrow Hills Woland, Begemot and Koroviev are waiting for them.

Let us remember that Master and Margarita are going to leave Moscow forever. The following conversation takes place:

'We had to trouble you a little, Margarita Nikolaevna and Master,' Woland began after some silence, 'but you won't grudge me that. I don't think you will regret it. So, then,' he addressed the Master alone, 'bid farewell to the city. It's time for us to go,' Woland pointed with his black-gauntleted hand to where numberless suns melted the glass beyond the river, to where, above these suns, stood the mist, smoke and steam of the city scorched all day.

The Master threw himself out of the saddle, left the mounted ones, and ran to the edge of the hillside. The black cloak dragged on the ground behind him. The Master began to look at the city.

In the first moments a wringing sadness crept over his heart, but it very quickly gave wav to a sweetish anxiety, a wandering gypsy excitement.

`Forever! ... That needs to be grasped,' the master whispered and licked his dry, cracked lips.

He began to heed and take precise note of everything that went on in his soul. His excitement turned, as it seemed to him, into a feeling of deep and grievous offence. But it was unstable, vanished, and gave way for some reason to a haughty indifference, and that to a foretaste of enduring peace.

The group of riders waited silently for the master. The group of riders watched the black, long figure on the edge of the hillside gesticulate, now raising his head, as if trying to reach across the whole city with his eyes, to peer beyond its limits, now hanging his head down, as if studying the trampled, meager grass under his feet.

The silence was broken by the bored Behemoth. `Allow me, maître,' he began, 'to give a farewell whistle before the ride.'

Master is pouring out all the feelings of a humiliated heart, his state of mind is changing every minute. But when he returns back to Woland and company who were indulging in small funs waiting for him, he is quite composed. He is no longer sad that he is leaving his world, his literary world, this city which denied him the recognition that he deserved.

 He clutched his head and ran back to the group of waiting companions.

'Well, then,' Woland addressed him from the height of his steed, 'is your farewell completed?'

'Yes, it's completed,' the master replied and, having calmed down, looked directly and boldly into Woland's face.

And then over the hills like a trumpet blast rolled Woland's terrible voice:

'It's time!!' - and with it the sharp whistle and guffaw of Behemoth.

The steeds tore off, and the riders rose into the air and galloped. Margarita felt her furious steed champing and straining at the bit. Woland's cloak billowed over the heads of the cavalcade; the cloak began to cover the evening sky. When the black shroud was momentarily blown aside, behind them, but the city itself had long been gone. It was as if it had fallen through the earth - only mist and smoke were left...

And in Woland’s company, Master and Margarita start for their destination…..