"Lay down thy mace, lay it down directly, devil's son!--we do not want thee any more!" shrieked some Cossacks from the crowd. Some of the sober koorens seemed to resist, but tipsy and sober koorens came to blows. The shouts and noise became general. The Koschevoï tried to speak, but knowing that the infuriated self-willed crowd might perhaps beat him to death for it, and that such was almost always the end of such riots, he bowed very low, laid down the mace, and disappeared among the people. "Do you order, gentlemen, that we too lay down the tokens of our rank?" said the judge, the secretary, and the essaool, ready to resign the seal, the inkstand, and the staff. "Not you; you may remain; we only wanted to drive away the Koschevoï, because he is an old woman, and we need a man for a Koschevoï!" "Whom will you choose for your Koschevoï?" asked the dignitaries. "Choose Kookoobenko!" cried one side. "We will not have Kookoobenko!" cried the other. "'Tis early for him; his mother's milk is yet wet upon his lips!" "Let Shilo be the Ataman," cried some. "Shilo must be Koschevoï!" "Away with Shilo!" shouted the angry crowd. "Is he a Cossack, to have thieved like a Tartar, the dog's son I To the devil with the drunkard Shilo!" "Let us choose Borodaty--Borodaty!" "We will not have Borodaty; a curse upon Borodaty!" "Shout for Kirdiaga," whispered Tarass Boolba. "Kirdiaga, Kirdiaga," shouted the crowd. "Borodaty! Borodaty!"--"Kirdiaga! Kirdiaga!" "Shilo!"--"The devil take Shilo!"--"Kirdiaga!" Each of the proposed candidates, on hearing his name shouted, instantly quitted the crowd, to leave no room for suspecting his personal influence in the election. "Kirdiaga! Kirdiaga!" was heard above all. "Borodaty!" Blows succeeded to words, and Kirdiaga's party got the better. "Go and fetch Kirdiaga!" was now the cry. Some ten Cossacks directly stepped out of the crowd; many of them hardly stood upon their legs, such was the strength of the spirits they had swallowed; they went straight to Kirdiaga, to notify to him his election. Kirdiaga, a clever old Cossack, had already been some time seated in his kooren, and looked as if quite unconscious of what had just taken place. "What do you want, gentlemen?" asked he. "Go; thou art elected to be the Koschevoï." "Be merciful, gentlemen!" said Kirdiaga. "I am by no means worthy of such an honour; I have not sense enough for a rank like that; is there no one better than I to be found in the whole Ssiecha?" "Go, when thou art told to go!" cried the Zaporoghians. Two of them took hold of his arms, and in vain did he endeavour to stay his feet. He was at last brought into the square, pushed from behind by blows and pokes, receiving such scoldings and admonitions as--"Don't draw back, thou devil's son!" "Take the honour, dog, when they give it to thee!" In such a manner Kirdiaga was brought into the midst of the Cossack circle.