There was a roar of voices.
"Peter Nicholaevitch wishes to speak."
"It is our turn to speak now."
"Nasha pora prishlà," (our time has come).
"Let the little master speak."
"We know no little masters here!"
"No, nor old ones!"
"Smiert Bourjouiam" (Death to the bourgeoisie).
But as the young Grand Duke began to speak the voices of the most rabid of the peasants were hushed for a moment by the others.
"My friends and my children" he began, "one word before you do something that you will forever regret. I am your friend. I am young—of the new generation. I have kept abreast of the new thought of the time and I believe in the New Life that is for you and for us all. I have proved it to you by bringing the New Life to Zukovo by peaceful means, by friendliness and brotherhood while other parts of Russia near by are in agony and darkness." (Cries of "That is true.") "It was in my heart that I had brought the Revolution to Zukovo, a Revolution against the old order of things which can be no more, implanting in you the strong seeds of Peace and Brotherhood which would kill out the ugly weeds of violence and enmity."