I would fly after him to Silesia!
I would sit on a fence in Silesia.
Look at me, Yasek dear,
Look at the poor little orphan."
But all at once her voice broke, her lips quivered, and from beneath her closed lids tears came out on her cheeks in spite of her. For a time she tried not to let them come, but she had not power to restrain them, and at last she wept heartily, just as she had when, the time before, she sang that same song to Zbyshko in the prison at Cracow.
"Danusia! What is thy grief, Danusia?" asked Zbyshko.
"Why art thou weeping? What kind of wedding is this?" cried the princess. "Why dost thou weep?"
"I know not," answered Danusia, sobbing. "I feel so much sadness. I grieve so for Zbyshko and the lady."
Therefore all were sad, and fell to comforting her, explaining that her absence would not be lasting; that surely she would go with her father at Christmas to Tsehanov. Zbyshko embraced her again with his arm, drew her to his bosom, and kissed the tears from her eyes; but the weight remained on all hearts, and under this weight the remaining hours of the night passed.
At last a noise was heard in the yard, so sudden and sharp that all quivered. The princess, springing up from her seat, cried,—
"Oh, as God lives! The well-sweeps! They are watering the horses!"
Father Vyshonek looked through the window, in which the glass panes were taking on a gray color, and said,—
"Night is growing pale, and day is coming. Ave Maria, gratias plena!" (Hail, Mary, full of grace!)
Then he went out of the chamber, and returning after a while, said,—
"Day is dawning, though the day will be gloomy. Yurand's people are watering the horses. It is time for thee to take the road."
At these words the princess and Danusia broke into loud weeping, and they and Zbyshko lamented, as do simple people when they part; that is, in their lament there was something ceremonial, a complaint, half spoken, half chanted, which comes forth from full souls as naturally as tears from the eyes,—
