All three were turned toward Aksana. Only old Bogdan was sitting on a bench in a corner with his top-knot[F] hanging down, waiting for the Count to give him an order. Aksana was standing in a corner by the stove with her eyes on the floor, as crimson as that poppy there in the barley. Okh, it was plain the witch felt that something wicked was about to happen because of her. Let me tell you something, lad: if three men stand looking at one woman nothing good ever comes of it. Hair is sure to fly, if nothing worse. I know that, because I have seen it happen myself.
“How now, Raman, lad?” laughed the Count. “Did I give you a good wife or not?”
“Not bad,” answered Raman. “The woman will do.”
Here Opanas shrugged his shoulders, raised his eyes to Aksana, and muttered:
“What a woman she is! If only that goose hadn’t got her!”
Raman overheard the words and turned to Opanas and said:
“Why do I seem a goose to you, Lord Opanas? Eh, hey; tell me that!”
“Because you don’t know how to protect your wife; that’s why you’re a goose.”
That’s what Opanas said to him! The Count stamped his foot. Bogdan shook his head, but Raman thought a minute and then raised his head and looked at the Count.
“Why should I protect her?” he asked Opanas, but his eyes were fixed on the Count. “There’s no one here in the forest except wild beasts, unless it is our gracious Count when he comes. Whom should I protect her from? Look out, you misbegotten Cossack you, don’t provoke me, or before you know it I’ll have you by the forelock!”