"Owa!" exclaimed Zyndram of Maszkow, the sword bearer of Krakow, "one can smoke them out!"
"With what?"
"With powder."
"Or cut the beehive with an axe," added the gigantic Paszko Zlodziej of
Biskupice.
Zbyszko's heart was ready to leap with joy, because he thought that such words betokened war. Kuno von Lichtenstein understood what was said, because during his long sojourn in Torun and Chelmno, he learned the Polish language; but he would not use it on account of pride. But now, being irritated by the words of Zyndram of Maszkow, he looked at him sharply with his grey eyes and said:
"We shall see."
"Our fathers saw at Plowce[48] and at Wilno," answered Zyndram.
"Pax vobiscum!" exclaimed Kropidlo. "Pax, pax! If only the ksiondz[49] Mikolaj of Kurow, will give up his Kujawian bishopric, and the gracious king appoint me in his place, I will preach you such a beautiful sermon about the love between Christian nations, that you will sincerely repent. Hatred is nothing but ignis and ignis infernalis at that; such a dreadful fire that one cannot extinguish it with water, but is obliged to pour wine on it. Give us some wine! We will go on ops,[50] as the late Bishop Zawisza of Kurozwenki used to say!"
"And from ops to hell, the devil says," added the fool Ciaruszek.
"Let him take you!"