“But I’d lay my head that in no long time—say, before the Carnival begins—Yagna will be again running after the lads.” “Matthew is only waiting for that.” “I know. Vavrek’s wife overheard him say so in the tavern.” “Because he was not asked to the wedding.” “Yes. The old fellow would have had him, but Dominikova was against it.—All the folk know why, do they not?” “Well, all say so; but what has anybody seen?” “Bartek Koziol saw them in the wood last spring.” “He is a liar and a thief: Dominikova accused him of stealing a pig, and what he says may be mere spite.” “But others too—there be others that have eyes.” “All this will end ill ... you will see. ’Tis no affair of mine, but to my mind, Antek and his family have been unjustly dealt with.” “Of Antek, too, people talk—say they have been seen together here and there.”—The voices dropped lower as the spiteful talk went on, leaving no shred of reputation on any of the family, and the more unmerciful for their hostess as they had more pity for her two sons. “Is’t not a sin?—Simon, a man wearing mustachios—thirty, if a day—and she will not let him marry, nor leave the house: and for the slight fault she raises a tempest!” “It is indeed a shame: such strapping lads, and doing all the woman’s work!” “So that Yagna, forsooth, may not soil her hands!” “Each of them has five acres of his own, and might marry at his ease!” “With so many unmarried girls around them!” “Yes, yes; your own poor Martianna, waiting for ages, and the land quite close by Paches’!” “You let her alone! See rather to your girl Franka, lest she come to grief with Adam!” “Those great oafs!—Afraid to leave their mother’s apron-strings!” “They are beginning: Simon has been all the evening staring at Nastka.” “Their father was of the like mould: I remember well.—Aye, and the old woman was in her time no better than Yagna.” “As the root is, so the boughs; as the mother, so the daughter.” The music ceased, and, supper being over, the musicians went to refresh themselves in the kitchen. But after a time the noise waxed even louder than before, and the whole place seethed with uproar: all talking, ranting, shouting away one to the other across the tables, and no one able to make out what was said. At the close of the meal, the most select guests were offered a drink compounded of mead and spices, while the others got strong vodka and beer in abundance. By this time, but few were well aware of what they were drinking, being too far gone and in a blissful state. They made themselves comfortable, and unbuttoned their capotes to be cooler; beat the tables with their fists till the dishes jingled, embraced each other, either round the neck or clutching at the shirt-collar; and they talked freely, unbosoming themselves and telling all their sorrows as if they had been brothers. “’Tis ill living here on earth! Things are out of gear with mankind, and we have naught but grief!”