"'Don't fear, little pigeon, We shall not regret it,' Said Philip, but still I was timid and doubtful. 210 'Do go,' murmured I, and he, 'When you come with me.' Of course I was fairer And sweeter and dearer Than any that lived, And his arms were about me.... Then all of a sudden I made a sharp effort To wrench myself free. 219 'How now? What's the matter? You're strong, little pigeon!' Said Philip astonished, But still held me tight. 'Ah, Philip, if you had Not held me so firmly You would not have won me; I did it to try you, To measure your strength; You were strong, and it pleased me.' We must have been happy 230 In those fleeting moments When softly we whispered And argued together; I think that we never Were happy again.... "How well I remember.... The night was like this night, Was starlit and silent ... Was dreamy and tender Like this...." 240 And the woman, Matrona, sighed deeply, And softly began-- Leaning back on the haystack-- To sing to herself With her thoughts in the past: "'Tell me, young merchant, pray, Why do you love me so-- Poor peasant's daughter? I am not clad in gold, 250 I am not hung with pearls, Not decked with silver.' "'Silver your chastity, Golden your beauty shines, O my beloved, White pearls are falling now Out of your weeping eyes, Falling like tear-drops.' "My father gave orders To bring forth the wine-cups, 260 To set them all out On the solid oak table. My dear mother blessed me: 'Go, serve them, my daughter, Bow low to the strangers.' I bowed for the first time, My knees shook and trembled; I bowed for the second-- My face had turned white; And then for the third time 270 I bowed, and forever The freedom of girlhood Rolled down from my head...." "Ah, that means a wedding," Cry both brothers Goobin, "Let's drink to the health Of the happy young pair!" "Well said! We'll begin With the bride," say the others. "Will you drink some vodka, 280 Matrona Korchagin?" "An old woman, brothers, And not drink some vodka?" CHAPTER II A SONG Stand before your judge-- And your legs will quake! Stand before the priest On your wedding-day,-- How your head will ache! How your head will ache! You will call to mind Songs of long ago, Songs of gloom and woe: Telling how the guests 10 Crowd into the yard, Run to see the bride Whom the husband brings Homeward at his side. How his parents both Fling themselves on her; How his brothers soon Call her "wasteful one"; How his sisters next Call her "giddy one"; 20 How his father growls, "Greedy little bear!" How his mother snarls, "Cannibal!" at her. She is "slovenly" And "disorderly," She's a "wicked one"!