Others repeated the chorus; then Kokosinski gave Kmita the eared bowl, and Zend gave Kokosinski a goblet.
Kmita raised high the eared bowl and shouted, “Health to my maiden!”
“Vivat! vivat!” cried all voices, till the window-panes began to rattle in their leaden fittings. “Vivat! the mourning will pass, the wedding will come!”
They began to pour forth questions: “But how does she look? Hei! Yendrus,[[9]] is she very pretty, or such as you pictured her? Is there another like her in Orsha?”
“In Orsha?” cried Kmita. “In comparison with her you might stop chimneys with our Orsha girls! A hundred thunders! there’s not another such in the world.”
“That’s the kind we wanted for you,” answered Ranitski. “Well, when is the wedding to be?”
“The minute the mourning is over.”
“Oh, fie on the mourning! Children are not born black, but white.”
“When the wedding comes, there will be no mourning. Hurry, Yendrus!”
“Hurry, Yendrus!” all began to exclaim at once.