First came the fiddlers, each marching abreast with a flutist; then the bass-viol-players, and the drummers, to whose instruments there were little bells attached: all adorned with flying ribbons, and advancing with elastic steps. After the musicians walked a troop of eight: the two “proposers,” who had arranged the match, and the six bridesmen. These were all handsome young fellows, slender as pine-trees, slim-waisted, broad-shouldered, enthusiastic dancers, audacious of speech, fond of a fray, and great sticklers for their rights: such were they all six, and all of good families, pure farmer’s blood. Together they marched, shoulder to shoulder, down the middle of the road, the ground echoing under the tramping of their boots: with such merry daredevil looks, and so gayly adorned, that they killed the whole scene—a vision of striped trousers glancing in the sun, of scarlet jackets, hats decked with bunches of floating ribbons, and white capotes, open and flapping in the breeze like wings. Uttering shrill cries, and humming joyful tunes, on they dashed, tramping noisily in measure—a young pine-grove in motion and rushing with the blast! The musicians played polonaises, going from hut to hut to call the wedding guests; here vodka was offered them, there they were asked in; elsewhere a song would answer to their tunes; while on all sides the folk came out, dressed in their best raiment, and went swelling the main body. And under the windows of the bridesmaids all sang in unison the following verse: Lasses, lightly treading, Come ye to the wedding— Hear our gleeful tune! Hear our voices’ chorus Join with flute sonorous— Hautboy and bassoon! Let the tankard clink now: Who is loth to drink now— He’s a scurvy loon! Oy ta dana dana, Oy ta dana dana, Oy ta dana da! And then they shouted so loud that they could be heard throughout the whole village, and beyond in the fields and the forests. The folk had come out in front of their houses, into the orchards. Many who had not been invited joined the party, merely to look on and listen; so, before it had reached its destination, pretty nearly the whole village was round them, pressing and surging on every side, while the children ran on in front: a dense crowd, a swift and a noisy one. Having brought the guests to the bridal cottage, playing them in with a joyful strain, they returned to fetch the bridegroom. Vitek, who, brave in his short jacket adorned with ribbons, had accompanied the bridesmen, now ran fast before them. “Master!” he cried through the window. “They are coming!” And off he ran to where Kuba lay. They played a good while there before the porch. Boryna came out directly, threw the door wide open, and would have had them all in; but the Voyt and the Soltys took him by each arm and led him straight away to Yagna; for it was high time to go to church.