set to smiting above and below, great men great ones,
and small men small ones, then all the rascals will be overthrown, and
thus happiness and the Polish Commonwealth will bloom again. Is not this
so?"

"As true as if you were reading it out of a book," they said.

"It is true!" repeated Baptist, "drop after drop, every bit."

"I am always ready to shave!" exclaimed Razor.

"Only make an agreement," courteously begged Bucket, "under whose
leadership Baptist and Maciej shall proceed."

But Buchmann interrupted him: "Let fools agree; discussions do not harm
the common weal. I beg you to be silent." ("We are listening.") "The case
gains thereby; the Warden is considering it from a new point of view."

"Not at all," shouted the Warden, "I follow the old fashion. Of great
things great men should think; for them there is an Emperor, and there
will be a King, a Senate, and Deputies. Such things, my boy, are done in
Cracow or in Warsaw, not here among us, in the hamlet of Dobrzyn. Acts of
confederation are not written on a chimney with chalk, nor on a river
barge, but on parchment; it is not for us to write such acts. Poland has
the secretaries of the Kingdom and of Lithuania; such was the ancient
custom: my business is to whittle with my penknife."

"To sprinkle with my brush," added Sprinkler.

"And to bore with my awl," cried Bartek the Awl, drawing his sword.

"I summon you all to witness," concluded the Warden; "did not Robak tell
you, that before you receive Napoleon into your house you should sweep out
the dirt? You all heard it, but do you understand? Who is the dirt of the
district? Who traitorously killed the best of Poles; who robbed and
plundered him? Who? Must I tell you?"

"Why, it is Soplica," interrupted Bucket; "and now he even wants to snatch
the remnants from the hands of the heir; he is a scoundrel."

"O, he is a tyrant!" squealed Razor.

"Then sprinkle him!" added Baptist.

"If he is a traitor," said Buchmann, "to the gallows with him!"

"Hurrah!" they all cried, "down with Soplica!"

But the Prussian ventured to undertake the defence of the Judge, and cried
with arms held up towards the gentry:--

"Brother gentlemen! O! O! By God's wounds, what means this? Warden, are
you mad? Was it this we were discussing? Because a man had a crazy, outlaw
brother, shall we punish him on his brother's account? That is a Christian
way of doing things! The Count is behind all this. As for the Judge's
be