Orwell - Animal Farm - Last Chapter Years passed. The seasons followed one another, fled the short life of animals. It was a time when no one remembered the old days before the Revolution, except Berta, Benjamin, Moses the raven, and some pigs.
Muriel was dead, Lila, Jessie and clamp were dead. Jones also was dead, dead in a house in another part of the county alcoholics. Berta was now an old mare by and large joints and hardened with a tendency to inflammation of the eyes. For two years he had passed the age limit, but in fact no animal had been put to rest. The issue of reserving a corner of a large pasture for those unable to work had long since been dropped. Napoleon was now an old boar of a ton and a half. Clarinet was so fat that his eyes were barely a crack to see. Only old Benjamin was always the same, maybe a little more gray around the muzzle and the Gondrano death, more quiet and sad. New
now be populated farm, as well the increase was not the first time to foresee. They were born many animals for which the Revolution was not a vague tradition passed from mouth to mouth, and other animals that were purchased before their arrival had never heard of it. The farm now possessed three horses over Berta. They were beautiful animals performing, willing to work and good comrades, but very stupid. None of them could read the alphabet beyond the b. They accepted everything they were told on the Revolution and the principles of the animal, especially Berta for whom I have a filial respect, but it was doubtful whether they understood some of what it said. The farm was now more prosperous and better organized. Had also been extended with two fields bought from Mr. Pilkington. The mill was finally completed successfully, the farm as his own threshing machine and elevators, and other buildings were added. Whymper had bought a wheelchair. The mill was not, however, been used to produce electricity, but for grinding grain, and made large sums of money. The animals worked tirelessly to plant another mill where, once finished, he said, would have planted the dynamite.
But the luxuries that Snowball had the dream of animals, barns with electricity and hot and cold water and three working days per week, this was not discussed more. Napoleon had condemned the idea as contrary to the principles of the animal. True happiness, he said, is to work hard and live frugally. It seemed that the farm had become short in reality richer, richer without making the animals, except of course the pigs and dogs. Perhaps this was due in part to the fact that pigs and dogs were so numerous. Not that these things did not work in their own way. Clarinet never tired of explaining what was the enormous work of supervision and organization of the farm. Much of this work was such that other animals, for their ignorance, could not understand. For example, Clarinet told them that the pigs had to work hard every day about mysterious things called "files", "relations", "logs". They were, these large sheets of paper that had to be completely covered in writing and when they were thus established were then thrown into the furnace. This was of utmost importance for the smooth running of the farm, said Clarinet. However, neither pigs nor dogs produced food, with their work and they were many and their appetite was always good.
As for the other, their lives, for they knew was what had always been: they were hungry, they slept on straw, they drank the pool, working in the fields, were suffering from the cold in winter, in summer for the flies. Sometimes the older ones are racking their brains to remember if in the early days of the Revolution, when it was recently the expulsion of Jones, things had gone better or worse. But they could not remember. They had nothing with which to compare their present life had nothing to see, if not the columns of figures with whom Clarinet invariably showed that things were getting better. The animals found the problem insoluble in any case had little time to get lost in such thoughts. Only old Benjamin said he remembered every detail of his long life and to know that things have never been, nor ever would be, much better or much worse: hunger, fatigue, disappointment being così egli diceva, la inalterabile legge della vita.
Pure gli animali non cessavano di sperare. E inoltre non perdevano mai, sia pure per un istante, il senso dell'onore e del privilegio di esser membri della Fattoria degli Animali. Era ancora l'unica fattoria in tutta la contea - in tutta l'Inghilterra! - posseduta e condotta da animali. Non uno di essi, neppure il più giovane, neppure i nuovi venuti, comprati da fattorie distanti diverse miglia, cessava di meravigliarsi di tale fatto. E quando udivano sparare il fucile e vedevano la bandiera verde sventolare in cima all'asta, il loro cuore si gonfiava di imperituro orgoglio e i discorsi volgevano sempre agli antichi, eroici giorni, alla cacciata di Jones, alla scrittura dei Sette Commandments, the great battles in which men invaders were defeated. None of the old dreams had been abandoned. The Republic of Animals, advocated by Old Major, where the green fields of England would not be trampled by human foot, it was always their faith. Would come one day, maybe it was not imminent, perhaps none of the animals now living would see her, but she would come. Even the air of Animals of England was here and there secretly sung in a low voice. It was a fact that all the farm animals knew her, well no one would dare sing in public. Could it be that their lives were hard and that not all of their hopes would be fulfilled. But they were not aware of how other animals. If they were hungry, it was not for the tyranny of man, if they worked hard, worked at least for themselves.
There was one another creature that would go on two legs. No being another being called "master." All animals are equal.
One day in early summer, Clarinet, ordered the sheep to follow him and led them to the other end of the farm, in a large land invaded by birch trees. The sheep spent the whole day to burn the leaves under the supervision of Clarinet. They went back to the farmhouse in the evening, but poié was hot, "said the sheep to stay where they were. He finished that they remained there a week during which no saw them. Clarinet was staying with them most of the day: he was teaching them, he said, a new song that was necessary isolation.
After the return of the sheep, when a lovely evening after work, the animals were returning to their stables, a terrible neighing of horses sounded in the courtyard. Startled, the animals stopped.
was the voice of Berta. She snorted again and all the animals broke into a gallop in the court. Then saw what he saw Berta.
A pig was walking on its hind legs. Yes, it was Clarinet. A little 'awkwardly, as if it were not accustomed to that position in his considerable weight, but with perfect balance, walking up and down the court. Soon after, the door of the farmhouse came a long line of pigs, all walking on its hind legs. Some did it better than others, some were still a bit 'wobbly and seemed to require the support of a stick, but all they did with success around the yard. Finally, amid a tremendous barking dogs and crowing of the cock up black, came Napoleon himself, majestically upright, casting haughty glances all'ingiro, with the dogs that were jumping around. Squeezed between the legs a whip.
There was a dead silence. Amazed, terrified, clinging together, the animals watched the long line of pigs march slowly around the courtyard. It was as if the world had overturned. Then came the moment when, after the first stunning, despite everything - despite the terror of dogs, a habit developed over many years of not ever complain, not to criticize ever - felt the temptation to utter words of protest. But at the same moment, as a given signal, all the sheep broke into a tremendous bleating "Four legs good, two legs better! Four legs good, two legs better! Four legs good, two legs better. "
went on for five minutes without stopping. And when the sheep had quieted down, the possibility of protest had passed and the pigs were returned to the house. Benjamin felt a
nose rubbing against her shoulder. Looked. It was Bertha. His old eyes were misted more than ever. Without a word, pulled him gently to his mane and led him into the big barn where the Seven Commandments were written. For a moment he stood staring at the dark wall and white letters.
"My view is weakened," he said finally. "Even when I was young I could not read what was written here. But I think that the wall is another aspect. The Seven Commandments are the same as before, Benjamin? "
For once Benjamin consented to break his rule and he read what was written on the wall. There was nothing written, out of a single commandment. He said:
ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL BUT SOME ARE MORE
'EQUAL
OTHER
After that did not seem strange that the pigs that supervised the work hold whips in their paws. He did not seem strange to learn that the pigs had bought for their use a radio, they were planting a phone that had a subscription to the "John Bull" to "Tit-Bits' and 'Daily Mirror'.
did not seem strange to see Napoleon walk in the garden of the farmhouse with a pipe in his mouth, no, not even when the pigs took Mr. Jones's clothes closet and wear them and Napoleon was seen in a black jacket, trousers and leather shoes, while his sow favored wore the silk dress that Mrs. Jones wore on Sunday, even this seemed strange. A week later in the afternoon, several cars came to the farm. A deputation of farmers from the neighborhood had been invited on a tour of inspection. It was shown them the whole farm, and they expressed great admiration for what they saw, especially for the mill. The animals were weeding the turnip field. They worked carefully, almost without daring to lift his head from the ground, not knowing if they had more fear of pigs or human visitors. That evening
high laughter and song came out of the house, and all of a sudden, heard all those voices, the animals find themselves caught by curiosity. That what was going on in there, now that for the first time animals and men meet on a footing of equality? In one accord, they began to creep silently into the garden of the farmhouse. At the gate they stopped doubting whether to go or not. But Berta opened the road. On tiptoe since they took at home and those that were high enough spied through the window of the dining room. There, around the long table, sat half a dozen farmers and half a dozen or more eminent pigs. Napoleon occupied the place of honor at the head of the table. The pigs appeared completely at ease on the chairs. The company was playing a game of cards, temporarily suspended, apparently a toast. Circulated a great pitcher and glasses were filled with beer. No one noticed the stunned faces of the animals watched from the window.
Mr. Pilkington of Foxwood stood up, holding the glass. In a moment, he said, he would ask the company to make a toast, but before he felt a duty to say a few words. It was a great satisfaction for him, he said - and he was sure, for all the others - to hear that the long period of mistrust and misunderstanding was over. There was a time - not that he or any of those present had shared such sentiments - but there was a time when the respected proprietors of Animal Farm had been looked at, not with hostility, but perhaps with some suspicion by the men of the neighborhood. There were unfortunate incidents, there had been misunderstandings. He felt that the existence of a farm holding and ruled by pigs was something abnormal and could have an evil effect on the neighborhood. Too many farmers believed, without any proof that the spirit that dominated farm license and indiscipline. They were worried about the effect it could have on their animals and even humans on their employees.
But all doubt was now dispelled. That day he and his friends had visited Animal Farm, they had inspected every inch with his own eyes, and what he found? Not only the most modern methods, but a discipline and order to pose as an example for farmers everywhere. Believed he could tell why the lower animals of Animal Farm did more work and received less food for all animals in the county. In reality he and his friends that day visitors had observed many things that just wanted to introduce into their farms.
He closed his peroration, he said, further enhancing the friendly feelings that existed and should exist between Animal Farm and its neighbors. Of pigs and men there was not and should not be any conflict of interest. Their struggles and their difficulties were one. It was not the problem of work the same everywhere? Here it seemed that Mr. Pilkington was about to launch some well prepared witticism on the company, but for the moment was too overwhelmed by the pleasure to be able to pronounce. After a lot of coughing during which time his numerous instruments were made of embers, he managed to put out: "If you have your lower animals to contend against," he said "we have our lower classes." This bon mot he burst out laughing the whole table, and again congratulated Mr. Pilkington with pigs given ration scarce, long working hours and the general lack of redundancy that was observed in the Animal Farm.
And now, finally said, asking the company to raise your leg and make sure that the cup was full.
"Gentlemen," concluded Mr. Pilkington, "gentlemen, I toast to you and to the prosperity of Animal Farm,"
enthusiastic applause followed and beat feet. Napoleon was so pleased that he rose from his seat and went around the table to come and touch her glass with that of Mr. Pilkington's before emptying. When the applause subsided, Napoleon, who had remained standing, he announced that he had a few words to say.
Like all of Napoleon's speeches, this one was brief and explicit. He, too, said he was happy that the period of misunderstanding was over. For many years, was racing entries - put into circulation, had reason to believe, by some malignant enemy - that the directives of him and his colleagues clothed something subversive and revolutionary, had been accused of provoking rebellion among the animals of the nearby farms. Nothing could be further from the truth! Their sole wish, now and in the past, was to live in peace and good and normal relations with all neighbors. This farm had the honor of control, he added, was a kind of cooperative enterprise. The actions that were in his possession were the common property of the pigs.
He did not believe he said, that some of the old suspicions continue to exist, but some changes recently introduced in the customs of the farm, must have the effect of promoting an even greater confidence. Until then, the farm animals avevano avuto la sciocca abitudine di chiamarsi l'un l'altro "compagni". Ciò doveva aver termine. C'era anche stato lo strano costume, la cui origine era sconosciuta, di sfilare la domenica mattina davanti al teschio di un verro posto su un ceppo nel giardino. Questo pure sarebbe stato abolito, e già il teschio era stato sepolto. I suoi visitatori avevano certo visto la bandiera verde spiegata in cima all'asta e avevano forse notato che lo zoccolo e il corno dipinti in bianco, di cui prima era fregiata, erano scomparsi. La bandiera, d'ora innanzi, sarebbe stata verde soltanto. Egli aveva solo una critica, disse, da fare all'eccellente e amichevole discorso del signor Pilkington. In esso il signor Pilkington si era sempre riferito alla "Fattoria Animal. "She could not know, of course - and he, Napoleon, it announced today for the first time - that the name" Animal Farm "had been abolished. Since then the farm would be restored" Manor Farm ", namely that , he believed, was his real name of origin.
"Gentlemen," concluded Napoleon, "will repeat the toast before, but in different form. Fill your glasses to the brim. Gentlemen, here's my toast to the prosperity of Manor Farm, "
As before, there were applause and the glasses were emptied to the bottom. But as the animals outside staring at the scene, it seemed to them that something strange was happening. What what was changed in the faces of the pigs? Eyes after Berta went from one to another snout. Some minds were five, four, three. But what was it that seemed to dissolve and transform? Then, the applause ended, the company resumed the cards and continued the game stopped, and animals silently withdrew. But they had no way
twenty yards that stopped abruptly. A clamor of voices came from the farmhouse. They rushed back and again looked out the window. Yes, a violent quarrel broke out. There were shouts, shots vibrated on the table, sharp suspicious glances, furious protests. The commotion seemed to have been caused by the fact that Napoleon and Mr. Pilkington had simultaneously and each played an ace of spades.
Twelve angry voices rose, and all were similar. It was no wonder now what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, from man to pig and from pig to man again, but already it was impossible for them to distinguish between the two. The split of the hoof
