At times one or other of them fell apart, and now and then they were all upon their feet; then, clutching one another by the hair, or the throat, or the nape of the neck, they began the battle again. But all the village was soon aroused by the noise; women came hovering helplessly around the battle-field; and at last men arrived and separated the combatants. But the curses and imprecations and wailings and threats went on, and were beyond all description. The neighbours made off at once, fearing they might be called in to bear witness: but throughout the village the whisper went that the Voyt and his wife had given the Koziols a fearful thrashing. A few minutes later, the Voyt, with a swollen face, drove off accompanied by his wife, also much battered and scratched, to depose against their enemies. About an hour afterwards, the Koziols started likewise: old Ploshka having very kindly offered to take them to town gratis—to pay out the Voyt for siding with the Squire. They went to make their complaint, just as they were at the end of the fight, and without doing anything to make themselves more presentable. They drove slowly through the village, telling everybody, as they went, about their ill-treatment, and showing the wounds received. Koziol’s head was cut open to the bone, so that his face, neck, and breast, visible through a rent in his shirt, were all covered with blood. The hurt was in reality not great; but at every moment he would press his side and moan: “My God! I can bear no more! He has broken every one of my ribs!—Help, good people, help! or I die!” His wife then took up the lament. “He took a club to beat him with!—Ah, poor man! be easy; you have had much to suffer, but there’s justice to punish ruffians, there is!... Yes, he meant to slay my man, and folk had hard work to prevent him from doing it: as they will all testify in court.” These explanations she would frequently interrupt with dreadful howls. Indeed, she was disfigured almost past recognition: bareheaded, with tufts of hair torn out scalp and all, her ears torn and bleeding, her eyes running blood, and her whole face clawed, scratched, harrowed like a field. And though all knew well what a “daisy” the woman was, the sight roused pity in many a heart. “Dear, dear! ’twas too bad to treat them so horribly!” “A sin and a shame it is! They have been well-nigh killed.” “Aye, they have been frightfully beaten. But is aught forbidden to my lord the Voyt?—Such an official, such a great man?” Ploshka put in maliciously, addressing the people. They were completely bewildered, and remained astounded and upset long after the Koziols had passed out of sight. Teresa, who had taken cover during the fray, did not show her face till both parties had gone.