High soars, affrighting sparrows, as a comet
Doth frighten princes;59 but beneath the bright
Blue sky, the hawk, like moth on pin impaled,
Flaps with his wings, till in the plain he views
A bird or hare, and on it swift descends,
Like to a falling star. Ah! when will Heaven
Permit us to return from wandering,
And dwell once more among our native plains;
Serve in that cavalry which wars on hares,
Or in that infantry which carries arms
Against the birds? To know no weapon-stores,
Except the scythe or sickle, nor gazette,
Except our household reckonings! The sun
Had risen o’er Soplicowo, and now fell
Upon the thatch, and through the crannies stole
Into the barn, and o’er the dark-green hay,
Fresh and sweet-smelling, whereof the young men
Had made their couch. The golden, sparkling streaks
Streamed widely from the opening in black thatch,
Like ribbons out from tresses; with the ray
Of morning light the sun the sleepers’ lips
Did tickle, as a maiden may awake
Her lover with a corn-ear. Now the sparrows,
Bustling, began to chatter ’neath the thatch;
Three times the geese did cackle; after them
A chorus like an echo woke, of ducks
And turkeys, and the oxen’s lowing rose,
While to the field they passed. The young men rose
Still Thaddeus lay asleep, for he had sunk
To slumber latest; from last night’s repast
He came back so unquiet, that at cock-crow,
He opened not his eyes, and on his couch
He turned and turned again, and in the hay
He plunged as though in water, and slept sound,
Until a chilly wind blew in his eyes.
The creaking barn-door opened with a crash,
And in Friar Robak came, with knotted girdle,
Exclaiming: “Surge, puer!” and unwound
Roughly the knotted girdle on his shoulders.
Now in the court were heard the hunters’ shouts:
They led the horses there, drove carriages
Up to the gate; scarce might the courtyard hold
So large a company; the horns awoke,
Kennels were opened, and the greyhound pack
Rushed forth, with joyous whinnying, as they saw
The hunters’ horses and the prickers’ leashes;
The dogs, as mad they whip about the court,
Then haste, and clap the collars on their necks.
All this portends a hunting excellent.
At last the Chamberlain gave forth command
To set out. Slowly then the hunters marched,
One following the other. But when passed
The gate, the long file scattered far and wide.
Midmost the Assessor by the Regent rode;
Though each on each at times misliking looked,
They held discourse of friendship, as beseems
All men of honour, going to decide
A mortal quarrel; none might from their words
Discern their hatred. The Pan Regent led
Kusy, the Assessor Sokol. From behind
The ladies came in carriages; the youths
Trotting beside the wheels, held converse with
The ladies. Through the court Friar Robak paced
With rapid strides, his matins finishing;
But cast a glance on Master Thaddeus,
And frowned, and smiled. At last he signed to him.
Up then rode Thaddeus; Robak made a sign
Of threatening; but ’spite of questionings,
And prayers of Thaddeus, that the Friar would say
Plainly unto him what he would, the monk
Deigned not to look or answer; but he drew
His cowl around him closer, and his prayer
Concluded; and so Thaddeus rode away,
And joined the guests. The hunters then first held
Their leashes; each one moveless in his place
Remained, and to the other made a sign
Of silence; all their eyes turned to a stone,
On which the Judge was standing. He observed
The game, and by the beckoning of his hand
Expressed his orders. Each one understood.
They stood still; in the centre of the plain
The Assessor and the Regent ambled now.
Being nearer, Thaddeus forestalled them both;
He stood beside the Judge, and looked around.
’Twas long since he had been afield, and on
The wide grey space, ’twas hard to see the hare,
And more so ’mid grey stones. The Judge to him
Pointed it out. The poor hare crouching sat
Beneath a stone, and pricking up its ears,
Its crimson eye the hunters’ glances met,
And as enchanted, and its destiny
Foreseeing, still it could not turn its eyes
Away from theirs for very fright, and sat
Beneath the stone, lifeless itself as stone.
Meanwhile the dust drew ever nearer on
The plain. On Kusy flew, and Sokol after;
Hard following the Assessor and the Regent,
Together shouting “Vytcha!” from behind;
They vanished with the dogs in clouds of dust.
While thus they chased the hare, the Count appeared
Beneath the forest by the castle.
The neighbourhood well knew this gentleman
Was never punctual to the appointed time,
And he this day had overslept the dawn.
So he his servants rated, and beholding
The hunters in the field, made haste to join them.
His surtout long and white, of English cut,
Flew with loose skirts upon the wind behind;
And mounted servants followed him, who wore
Hats shaped like mushrooms, shiny, black, and small,
Short jackets, and high top-boots, and white trousers.
Those servants whom the Count in such wise clad,
Were in his palace jockeys60 called. They flew
Over the meadow, when the Count remarked
The castle, and he stayed his horse. He now
First saw the castle in the morning light;
And scarce believed they were those same old walls,
So had the dawn their outline beautified.
The Count much wondered at a sight so new,
The tower to him far-off seemed doubly high,
For clear it stood against the morning mists.
The metal roof shone golden in the sun;
In window-grates below the remnants gleamed
Of shivered glass, that broke the eastern rays
In many rainbows various. A veil
Of morning mist the lower storeys wreathed,
And hid their rents and breaches from the eye;
The hunters’ far shouts, driven by the wind,
Were echoed frequent from the castle walls.
Thou hadst sworn the shout proceeded from the castle,
And underneath the veiling of the mist,
The walls were built, and peopled once again.
The Count loved novel and unusual sights,
Called them romantic, and was used to say
That he had a romantic head; in truth
He was a strange man, for not seldom he,
When following a fox, or after hares,
Would suddenly stop still, and mournfully
Look upward to the sky, like to a cat,
When on a lofty pine she sees a sparrow.
He often wandered without gun or dog,
Among the thicket, like a ’scaped recruit;
He often sat unmoving by a brook,
With head bent o’er the stream, like to a heron,
Who’d swallow all the fishes with his eye.
Such were the Count’s strange habits. Every one
Said he
