"Take them all," said Bulba, "all there are; take them, that every one may be supplied.Take jugs, or the pails for watering the horses; take sleeve or cap; but if you have nothing else, then hold your two hands under."All the Cossacks seized something: one took a jug, another a pail, another a sleeve, another a cap, and another held both hands.Taras's servants, making their way among the ranks, poured out for all from the casks and flasks.But Taras ordered them not to drink until he should give the signal for all to drink together.It was evident that he wished to say something.He knew that however good in itself the wine might be and however fitted to strengthen the spirit of man, yet, if a suitable speech were linked with it, then the strength of the wine and of the spirit would be doubled.
"I treat you, brother gentles," thus spoke Bulba, "not in honour of your having made me hetman, however great such an honour may be, nor in honour of our parting from our comrades.To do both would be fitting at a fitting time; but the moment before us is not such a time.The work before us is great both in labour and in glory for the Cossacks.Therefore let us drink all together, let us drink before all else to the holy orthodox faith, that the day may finally come when it may be spread over all the world, and that everywhere there may be but one faith, and that all Mussulmans may become Christians.And let us also drink together to the Setch, that it may stand long for the ruin of the Mussulmans, and that every year there may issue forth from it young men, each better, each handsomer than the other.And let us drink to our own glory, that our grandsons and their sons may say that there were once men who were not ashamed of comradeship, and who never betrayed each other.Now to the faith, brother gentles, to the faith!""To the faith!" cried those standing in the ranks hard by, with thick voices."To the faith!" those more distant took up the cry; and all, both young and old, drank to the faith.
"To the Setch!" said Taras, raising his hand high above his head.
"To the Setch!" echoed the foremost ranks."To the Setch!" said the old men, softly, twitching their grey moustaches; and eagerly as young hawks, the youths repeated, "To the Setch!" And the distant plain heard how the Cossacks mentioned their Setch.
"Now a last draught, comrades, to the glory of all Christians now living in the world!"And every Cossack drank a last draught to the glory of all Christians in the world.And among all the ranks in the kurens they long repeated, "To all the Christians in the world!"The pails were empty, but the Cossacks still stood with their hands uplifted.Although the eyes of all gleamed brightly with the wine, they were thinking deeply.Not of greed or the spoils of war were they thinking now, nor of who would be lucky enough to get ducats, fine weapons, embroidered caftans, and Tcherkessian horses; but they meditated like eagles perched upon the rocky crests of mountains, from which the distant sea is visible, dotted, as with tiny birds, with galleys, ships, and every sort of vessel, bounded only by the scarcely visible lines of shore, with their ports like gnats and their forests like fine grass.Like eagles they gazed out on all the plain, with their fate darkling in the distance.All the plain, with its slopes and roads, will be covered with their white projecting bones, lavishly washed with their Cossack blood, and strewn with shattered waggons and with broken swords and spears; the eagles will swoop down and tear out their Cossack eyes.But there is one grand advantage: not a single noble deed will be lost, and the Cossack glory will not vanish like the tiniest grain of powder from a gun-barrel.The guitar-player with grey beard falling upon his breast, and perhaps a white-headed old man still full of ripe, manly strength will come, and will speak his low, strong words of them.And their glory will resound through all the world, and all who are born thereafter will speak of them; for the word of power is carried afar, ringing like a booming brazen bell, in which the maker has mingled much rich, pure silver, that is beautiful sound may be borne far and wide through the cities, villages, huts, and palaces, summoning all betimes to holy prayer.
