"So it is; we have promised peace to the Sultan." "But is he not an unbeliever? Well, do not the Scriptures order us to combat all unbelievers?" "We have no right to do it; had we not sworn by our faith, well, maybe we might have done it; but now, no, we cannot." "Why can we not? Why dost thou say we have no right? Here have I two sons, both of them young men. Neither the one nor the other have ever seen war, and thou sayest, 'we have no right;' and thou sayest, 'the Zaporoghians cannot go to war.'" "So it must be." "So then, the Cossack's strength must run to seed? So men must end their lives like so many dogs, without having been of any use to their country, or to Christendom? What do we live for, then? What the devil is the use of our life; tell me that? Thou art a sensible man; there was some reason for electing thee Koschevoï; tell me, what do we live for?" The Koschevoï left the question unanswered. He was a stubborn Cossack; he remained silent for a while, and then said, "Nevertheless, there can be no war." "So there will be no war?" once more asked Tarass. "No." "So it is of no use to think of it?" "It is of no use." "Well, wait a little, thou--devil's fist!" said Boolba to himself. "I'll teach thee to know me!" And he resolved on the spot to take his revenge of the Koschevoï. After having talked first with one and then another, he made up a drinking party, and a number of tipsy Cossacks rushed to the public square; here, tied to a pole, were the kettle-drums, which were used for summoning the _rada_[17] but not finding the sticks, which were in charge of an official called _doobish_, they caught up logs of wood, and began beating the drums with them. The first who appeared on hearing the sound of the drums was the doobish, a tall one-eyed man, whose only eye was still very sleepy. "Who dares to beat the drum?" cried he. "Be silent; take thy sticks, and beat the drum when thou art ordered to do so," answered the tipsy elders. The doobish complied at once, and took out the sticks, which he had brought in his pocket, being well acquainted with the usual end of such occurrences. The kettle-drums resounded, and soon dark crowds of Zaporoghians were seen swarming like bees into the square. All assembled in a circle, and after the third beating of the drum, came at last the chiefs: the Koschevoï with the mace, token of his dignity; the judge, with the seal of the Ssiecha; the secretary, with his inkstand, and the essaool with the staff. The Koschevoï, and the other dignitaries, took off their caps, and bowed on every side to the Cossacks, who stood haughtily holding their arms a-kimbo. "What means this assembly? What do you wish, gentlemen?" said the Koschevoï. Clamours and scolding words put a stop to his speech.