It was I that had made a swordsman of Mazeppa, which is a proud boast; for indeed—thanks to the instruction and practice which I gave to him during the earlier days of our life at Court—he became a very expert handler of the foils—a pupil of whom any master might justly be proud.
The fatal quarrel was none of our seeking, but we were of an age when to fight is as natural as to breathe or to eat, though in the Court of King John Casimir personal encounters were not encouraged—were, indeed, strictly forbidden—a fact which rendered indulgence in the pastime a dangerous luxury.
There were five of us pages, all lads of sixteen, and at certain hours of the day it was our duty to assemble in the ante-room appointed to our use, and there to await His Majesty’s pleasure.
On this day we five loitered long and wearily; and the King not appearing, and we having nothing better to do, we took to quarrelling—the three young Polish blades forming one party and we two Cossack youths the other.
I must confess that it was generally I who was at the bottom of the disputes in which we constantly engaged, though usually without coming to blows. Mazeppa was, perhaps, as independent in spirit and as quarrelsome as I, at heart, but his manners were better: he was more of a courtier than I, and also more cautious and less frank; but his tongue when he used it bit very deeply.
‘Here come the Russians,’ said one of the Poles, ‘entering the room as though it were their own property.’
‘Only Russians since the Cossacks overthrew the Poles,’ replied I, cruelly throwing in his teeth for the hundredth time the victory of my father and his Cossacks.
‘Poor Cossacks that cannot stand on their own legs!’ laughed Vladimirsky, one of the three Poles, ‘but must for ever hold hands with Pole or Russian, lest they fall for lack of support.’
‘Who supported us when we thrashed you at Moldávetz?’ said I. ‘Moreover, it is better to be allied with a bear than a fox, though I protest we require neither, and it is certain that we hate both.’
‘Peace, Chelminsky,’ said Mazeppa, ‘this conversation grows stale, we have heard it so often! Vladimirsky will never learn the difference between a Russian and a Cossack: he is short of understanding, for which we may blame his parents, but scarcely himself.’