A Terrible Vengeance

VIII

On the frontier road the Poles had gathered at a tavern and feasted there for two days. There were not a few of the rabble. They had doubtless met for some raid: some had muskets; there was jingling of spurs and clanking of swords. The nobles made merry and boasted; they talked of their marvelous deeds; they mocked at the Orthodox Christians, calling the Ukrainian people their serfs, and insolently twirled their mustaches and sprawled on the benches. There was a Catholic priest among them, too; but he was like them and had not even the semblance of a Christian priest; he drank and caroused with them and uttered shameful words with his foul tongue. The servants were no better than their masters: tucking up the sleeves of their tattered coats, they walked about with a swagger as though they were of consequence. They played cards, struck each other on the nose with cards; they had brought with them other men’s wives; there was shouting, quarreling…! Their masters were at the height of their revelry, playing all sorts of tricks; pulling the Jewish tavern keeper by the beard, painting a cross on his impious brow, shooting blanks at the women, and dancing the Cracovienne with their impious priest. Such sinfulness had never been seen on Russian soil even among the Tartars; it was God’s chastisement, seemingly, for the sins of Russia that she should be put to so great a shame! In the midst of the bedlam, talk could be heard of lord Danilo’s farmstead above the Dnieper, of his lovely wife… The gang of thieves was plotting foul deeds!