"But, my brothers," said Razor, "you will not exclude Bartek; all that you may soap I will shave."
"I too prefer to move on with you," added Bucket, "since I cannot make them agree on the choice of a marshal. What care I for votes and balls for voting? I have other balls." (Here he took from his pocket a handful of bullets and rattled them.) "Here are balls!" he cried, "all these balls are for the Judge!"
"We will join you," shouted Skoluba, "indeed we will!"
"Where you go," cried all the gentry, "where you go, there will we go also! Long live the Horeszkos! Vivant the Half-Goats! Vivat the Warden Rembajlo! Down with the Soplica!"
And thus the eloquent Gerwazy carried them all away, for all had their grudges against the Judge, as is usual among neighbours; now complaints of damage done by cattle, now for the cutting of wood, now squabbles over boundary lines: some were aroused by anger, others merely by envy for the wealth of the Judge—all were united by hatred. They crowded about the Warden, and raised aloft sabres and sticks.
At last Maciek, hitherto sullen and motionless, rose from his bench and with slow steps came out into the middle of the room and put his hands on his hips: looking straight before him and nodding his head, he began to speak, pronouncing slowly every word, pausing between them and emphasising them:—
"O stupid, stupid idiots! Whoever dances, you will pay the piper. So long as the discussion was over the resurrection of Poland and had to do with the public weal, idiots, all this time you quarrelled! It was impossible, idiots, either to debate, idiots, or to get order
