"Hei, weeping will help us no longer.
We give thee farewell, dearest love;
Weeping will help us no longer,
We give thee farewell.
God aid thee, we give thee farewell!"
Zbyshko drew Danusia to his bosom for the last time, and held her there long, as long as his breath lasted, and until the princess tore her away from him to dress her for the road.
Day had dawned now completely. All in the house were awake and moving.
Hlava came to Zbyshko to learn about his health and ask for orders.
"Draw the bed to the window," said the knight.
The Cheh drew the bed easily to the window, but he wondered when Zbyshko commanded him to open it; but he obeyed, covering, however, the lord with his own fur, for it was cold out of doors, though cloudy, and abundant soft snow was falling.
Zbyshko looked through the snow-flakes flying from the clouds. In the yard a sleigh was visible; around it, on steaming horses which had hoar frost on them, were Yurand's people. All were armed, and over their sheepskins some wore armor, on which the pale and uncertain light of day was reflected. The forest was covered entirely with snow; the fences and the gate were hardly visible.
Danusia rushed into Zbyshko's room once more, wrapped now in her shuba and fur cloak; once more she put her arms around his neck, and once more she said to him in parting:
"Though I go, I am thine."
He kissed her hands, her cheeks, and her eyes, which he could hardly see under the foxskin hood, and said,—
"God guard thee! God go with thee! Thou art mine, mine till death!"
And when they drew her away from him again, he raised himself as much as he was able, rested his head against the window, and looked. Through the snow-flakes, as through a kind of veil, he saw Danusia take her place in the sleigh; he saw the princess hold her long in her embrace, and the court damsels kiss her, and Father Vyshonek make the sign of the cross on her for the road. She turned toward him once more at the very parting, and stretched out her arms.
"Be with God, Zbyshko!"
