The weak rage of the princess was poured out in a mere torrent of a***e: “Trickster! beggar! you want princely blood. But in vain; we will give her to any one, but not to you. The prince cannot make us do that.“
Skshetuski answered: “This is no time for me to speak of my nobility. I think, however, that your rank might well bear the sword and shield behind mine. But for that matter, since a peasant was good in your eyes, I am better. As to my fortune, that too may be compared with yours; and since you say that you will not give me Helena, then listen to what I tell you: I will leave you in Rozlogi, and ask no account of guardianship.“
“Do not give that which is not yours.“
“I give nothing but my promise for the future. I give it, and strengthen it with my knightly word. Now choose, eith
