Terka did not reject the instrument this time, for she was moved by Volodyovski’s song, in which there was more cunning indeed than truth. She struck the strings at once, and with a simpering mien began,—
“For berries of elder go not to the green wood.
Trust not a mad dog, believe not a young man.
Each man in his heart bears rank poison;
If he says that he loves thee, say No.”
Volodyovski grew so mirthful that he held his sides from laughter, and cried out: “All the men are traitors? But the military, my benefactress!”
Panna Terka opened her mouth wider and sang with redoubled energy,—
“Far worse than mad dogs are they, far worse, oh, far worse!”
“Do not mind Terka; she is always that way,” said Marysia.[[11]]
“Why not mind,” asked Volodyovski, “when she speaks so ill of the whole military order that from shame I know not whither to turn my eyes?”
“You want me to sing, and then make sport of me and laugh at me,” said Terka, pouting.
“I do not attack the singing, but the cruel meaning of it for the military,” answered the knight. “As to the singing I must confess that in Warsaw I have not heard such remarkable trills. All that would be needed is to dress you in trousers. You might sing at St. Yan’s, which is the cathedral church, and in which the king and queen have their box.”
“Why dress her in trousers?” asked Zonia, the youngest, made curious by mention of Warsaw, the king, and the queen.