The magnate became positively frantic, clenched his fists, and shouted to his servants to set all the hounds upon the insolent bird. The cock, terrified, rushed with all his might out of the garden. On he ran, helping himself along with his wings, and hearing how one dog was gaining on him.... Now it was quite near ... snap! and tore the very best feathers out of the cock's tail. In his desperation Scarlet-Comb made one last effort, flew up as high as he could, and perched on a tree by the wayside. The dog stood underneath, barking and whining, but, fortunately, the hunting-horn blew, calling back the scattered dogs, and his persecutor was obliged to go to kennel.
Meanwhile a discussion was going on in the yard between the servants and noble retainers.
'What a plucky little cock!' said some; 'wasn't afraid to tell the Pan himself the truth to his beard!'
'If I had him, I'd show him what truth is—with white sauce,' said the under-cook, laughing.
'Just think,' remarked another; 'if a silly little chicken like that can see that a Pan shouldn't take away a poor man's things, it must be a bad business after all.'
'Yes, it's a mean trick,' muttered one of the nobles, frowning.
Early next morning Pan Podliásski's guests began to arrive. Dear me, how gorgeous they all were! Satin, velvet, brocade, in the most brilliant colours, simply dazzled your eyes on their kountoushi, zhoupány (doublets), and trunk hose. Their elegant caps were bordered with valuable furs; both lords and ladies were adorned with ostrich feathers, pearls, gold, silver, and precious stones. Magnificent horses of all colours pranced under their graceful riders, who surrounded the clumsy but richly-decorated coaches in which the fair ladies sat. Often, on the way, the gallants would bend towards them and exchange merry jests. The innumerable apartments of the castle were thrown open for the crowd of guests.
For dinner all the visitors put on other still more gorgeous dresses. A gallant was placed at the right hand of each lady. At the head of the table sat the host, beaming with pleasure and satisfaction.
The long dinner was almost ended. The guests had feasted upon a wild boar, which Pan Podliásski had killed in the chase, and which the cook had roasted whole and cunningly arranged standing erect upon a silver dish. The dessert was already finished; the noble retainers in their gala dress had carried round to the guests old mead of the finest quality, and German and Hungarian wines. The company was lively and merry. A handsome young nobleman stood up at the foot of the table. He had lately returned from France, where, at the king's court, he had grown accustomed to refined manners and courtly ways. Raising a golden goblet of wine in his right hand, and glancing round, he addressed the company: