"Such a thing was never heard of: it cannot be: it shall not be," exclaimed Andrew, "that the loveliest and best of women should be doomed to so bitter a lot, when she was born to see all that is best in the world worship her like a goddess. No--thou shalt not die; it is not thy lot to die; I swear, by my birth and by all that I love in the world, thou shalt not die! And if it should happen, if nothing, neither strength, nor prayer, nor courage can avert the dreadful fate, we will die together, and I will die first; I will die beneath thine eyes, at thy dear feet, and only when dead will I part with thee!" "Do not deceive me and thyself, knight!" answered she, slowly shaking her fine head; "I know, and to my greatest sorrow do I know but too well, that thou canst not love me; I know, what thy duty, what thy covenant is: thy father, thy comrades, thy country call thee--and we are thy foes!" "And what to me, are father, comrades, country?" said Andrew, tossing his head, and drawing up his stature to his full height, straight as the black poplar growing on the banks of a river: "if so--not one of them will I know! not one! not one!" repeated he with that voice, and peculiar motion of the hand, with which the mighty dauntless Cossack expresses his decision about something unheard of, and impossible for any one but himself. "Who has told me that Ukraine is my country? Who gave it to me for my country? Our native country is that for which our soul longs, which is dear to us above all other tilings! My native country--thou art it! This is my country! And I will carry this country in my heart as long as I live, and I shall see who of all the Cossacks will ever tear it thence! And all that I have, will I sell, resign, destroy, for this, my native country!" At first she remained stupified and motionless, and, like a fine statue, gazed into his eyes; then, on a sudden, bursting into tears, she flung herself on his neck, caught him in her snow-white delicate arms, and sobbed aloud; all this she did with that marvellous womanly impetuosity, of which none is capable but inconsiderate generous woman, created for magnanimous impulses of the heart. At this moment, confused shouts, together with the sound of trumpets and kettle-drums were heard in the street. But Andrew heard them not, he only felt how her pretty lips diffused over his face the aromatic warmth of their breath, how her tears flowed in streams over his cheeks, and how, falling down from her head, her fragrant hair wrapped him in its dark and glossy silk.