"I tried to intercede for you, but he is a hard man. He said that he would not complain to the king if you would do what he requires."
"What?"
"He said thus: 'I will stop to greet the Princess of Mazowsze; let them come, dismount, take off their helmets, and standing on the ground with uncovered heads, ask my forgiveness.'"
Here Powala looked sharply at Zbyszko, and added:
"I know it will be hard for people of noble birth to do this; but I must warn you, that if you refuse no one knows what you may expect,—perhaps the executioner's sword."
The faces of Macko and Zbyszko became like stone. There was silence.
"What then?" asked Powala.
Zbyszko answered quietly and with great dignity as though during this conversation he had grown twenty years older:
"Well, God's might is over all!"
"What do you mean?"