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Sayfa 711 / 788

Yazar: Adam Mickiewicz

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He strode on; all felt envious of him and pressed upon him in
pursuit; he would have been glad to steal away from the throng
with his lady; at times he stood still, courteously raised his
hand, and humbly begged them to pass by; sometimes he meditated
withdrawing adroitly to one side; he often changed his course,
and would have been glad to elude his comrades, but they
importunately followed him with swift steps, and encircled him
from all sides in the evolutions of the dance: so he grew angry,
and laid his right hand on his sword hilt, as if to say: "I care
not for you; woe to those who are jealous of me!" He turned about
with a haughty brow and with a challenge in his eye, and made
straight for the throng; the throng of dancers did not dare
withstand him, but retired from his path-and, changing their
formation, they started again in pursuit of him.-

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