Pan Tadeusz

Then she saw the young man, and her face paled with terror, / And she let fall the garment.

At his breast poked out fingers and nails long and thin, / Representing two leashes of hounds by this show

Sometimes, from some strange abbey, an almsman passed through...

No truce with the Soplicas, My-boy, can exist

Hands off, you want cucumbers, sir? Have your cucumbers!

Between their two mouths, unexpectedly shot / First a fly and, soon after, the Tribune's fly-swat.

The girl gracefully fluttered, in one hand held high, / A grey tuft, like an ostrich-plume fan to the eye.

He bent down and, first washing his hands in the brook, / He his seat on a stone near his cousin then took

Master, a bear!

You give praise to my snuffbox, my very good sirs, / Now observe what inside this container occurs

Thereupon grasped the Tribune, to his belt well knotted, / His great buffalo horn, long, and twisty, and spotted

Zosia, dressed for the morning, and with her head bare, / Stood quite still, one hand holding a sieve in the air

Zosia slips on her stockings, white, made of fine net, / And the slippers from Warsaw of fine satinette

But the Count barred the way; there he stood, chair in hand

In their midst, on a sheaf, sits the Steward, and sighs; / Turns his head here and there, bored

Takes his summons and loudly reads out

Bringing out leaves and grass, sat him down. At the sound / Of his whistling a rabbit swarm sprang from the ground.

Soon Gerwazy (for 'twas he) had through the crowd crashed / To room's centre, the Penknife spun overhead, flashed

"Long live the Count!" He cantered into Maciej's farm, / Armed, and after him, jockeys ten, also well armed.

His hat round and beplumed; he wheeled sharply toward / The group and then saluted them once with his sword.

His uncle and Worm on their knees / Each embracing the other, with tears streaming

"Ladies Telimena and Zofia", said, pained, "With defenseless blood never will this sword be stained..."

Sheep and goats behind oxen; and following this cattle / Four heavily packed wagons groan, lumber and rattle.

Worm was nearer, in Count's stead received the full force / Of the volley, then drew him from under the horse

There's a saying among you, I know, Polish sirs, Every Russian's a robber

I am Jacek Soplica...

The bison felt dread / The first time in its life, and to deeper woods fled.

An uhlan, like a sunflower stood, shako on head, / With much gilding resplendent, and cock-feather crest

"Yes, yes, Protazy dear"... "Yes, yes, Gerwazy dear"

But then General Kniaziewicz, the tallest man there, / Showed that no arm with his arm in strength could compare

Then the priest, from a bench, at the Judge's command, / To the peasants made public Tadeusz's plan.

Many cymbalists were there, / But when Jankiel was present to play none would dare

Ah, perhaps he's the last! Look, young people, pay heed, / The last, perhaps, who thus can the polonaise lead!

They from breakfast, so noisily bright, / Turned to mushrooming's ancient and decorous rite

The bear leapt up as, chased by the hounds, leaps a hare, / And it crashed headlong downward

Sleeping Gerwazy

Maciej, king of rabbits

Protazy

Jankiel's concert

Tadeusz Soplica's tale

Uhlan's courtship (Tadeusz and Zosia)

Steward Gerwazy; by Wilhelm Leopolski

A stroll in the forest (Tadeusz, Telimena and Count); by Tomasz Łosik

Tribune's Concert; by Stanisław Masłowski

Tribune's Concert; by Kazimierz Alchimowicz

Centrepiece masterpiece; by Kazimierz Mrówczyński

Rehabilitation of Jacek Soplica; by Kazimierz Alchimowicz

Yes, yes, Gerwazy dear; by Wandalin Strzałecki

Jankiel's concert; by Maurycy Trębacz

Polonaise; by Juliusz Kossak