“Skovoroda, you can’t put all tsars on the one pedestal with Herod,” Motonis interjected.
“Ah, not only emperors like Herod, but even good ones aren’t worth much.”
Kozytsky cowered. Motonis wiped the sweat away from his face and suggested:
“Let’s go to the tavern, brothers, and pay Bacchus his due respect for this unexpected meeting!”
They went off, embracing each other and, amazed at such a strange sight, the Muscovites stopped and watched them go. Really, where was it heard for gentlemen and commoners to walk about the town like that! They entered a decent tavern, called a kabak by the locals, or a ‘drinking house’.
They were given vodka in a carafe and cabbage patties on a wooden plate. Motonis grunted, filled up the glasses and announced: “To our alma mater!”
They drank the toast
