They looked very handsome in their black sheepskin caps, with cloth-of-gold crowns.
When their poor mother saw them, she could not utter a word, and tears stood in her eyes.
"Now, my lads, all is ready; no delay!" said Bulba at last.

"But we must first all sit down together, in accordance with Christian custom before a journey." All sat down, not excepting the servants, who had been standing respectfully at the door.
"Now, mother, bless your children," said Bulba.

"Pray God that they may fight bravely, always defend their warlike honour, always defend the faith of Christ; and, if not, that they may die, so that their breath may not be longer in the world." "Come to your mother, children; a mother's prayer protects on land and sea." The mother, weak as mothers are, embraced them, drew out two small holy pictures, and hung them, sobbing, around their necks.

"May God's mother--keep you! Children, do not forget your mother--send some little word of yourselves--" She could say no more.
"Now, children, let us go," said Bulba.
At the door stood the horses, ready saddled.

Bulba sprang upon his "Devil," which bounded wildly, on feeling on his back a load of over thirty stone, for Taras was extremely stout and heavy.
When the mother saw that her sons were also mounted, she rushed towards the younger, whose features expressed somewhat more gentleness than those of his brother.