"Here is a penny from me, because you have said a clever thing," said Kropidlo, "but remember that if the rope break, the beehive keeper break his neck.[47] Those drones from Malborg, by whom Dobrzyn is beset, have stings, and it is dangerous to climb to the beehives." "Owa!" exclaimed Zyndram of Maszkow, the sword bearer of Krakow, "one can smoke them out!" "With what?" "With powder." "Or cut the beehive with an axe," added the gigantic Paszko Zlodziej of Biskupice. Zbyszko's heart was ready to leap with joy, because he thought that such words betokened war. Kuno von Lichtenstein understood what was said, because during his long sojourn in Torun and Chelmno, he learned the Polish language; but he would not use it on account of pride. But now, being irritated by the words of Zyndram of Maszkow, he looked at him sharply with his grey eyes and said: "We shall see." "Our fathers saw at Plowce[48] and at Wilno," answered Zyndram. "_Pax vobiscum!_" exclaimed Kropidlo. "_Pax, pax!_ If only the _ksiondz_[49] Mikolaj of Kurow, will give up his Kujawian bishopric, and the gracious king appoint me in his place, I will preach you such a beautiful sermon about the love between Christian nations, that you will sincerely repent. Hatred is nothing but _ignis_ and _ignis infernalis_ at that; such a dreadful fire that one cannot extinguish it with water, but is obliged to pour wine on it. Give us some wine! We will go on _ops_,[50] as the late Bishop Zawisza of Kurozwenki used to say!" "And from _ops_ to hell, the devil says," added the fool Ciaruszek. "Let him take you!" "It would be more amusing for him to take you. They have not yet seen the devil with Kropidlo, but I think we shall all have that pleasure." "I will sprinkle you first. Give us some wine and may love blossom among the Christians!" "Among true Christians!" added Kuno von Lichtenstein, emphatically. "What?" exclaimed the Krakowian bishop Wysz, raising his head; "are you not in an old Christian kingdom? Are not our churches older than yours in Malborg?"[51] "I don't know," answered the Krzyzak. The king was especially sensitive where any question about Christianity arose. It seemed to him that the Krzyzak wished to make an allusion to him; therefore his cheeks flamed immediately and his eyes began to shine. "What!" said he, in a deep voice, "am I not a Christian king?" "The kingdom calls itself a Christian one," coolly answered the Krzyzak; "but its customs are pagan." At this many angry knights arose; Marcin of Wrocimowice, whose coat of arms was Polkoza, Florian of Korytnica, Bartosz of Wodzinek, Domarat of Kobylany, Zyndram of Maszkow, Powala of Taczew, Paszko Zlodziej of Biskupice, Jaxa of Targowisko, Krzon of Kozieglowy, Zygmunt of Bobowa and Staszko of Charbimowice, powerful and famous knights, victorious in many battles and in many tournaments. Alternately blushing and turning pale from anger, gnashing their teeth, they began to shout: