They raised their drooping heads upright and many nodded approvingly, muttering, "Kukubenko has spoken well!" And Taras Bulba, who stood not far from the Koschevoi, said: "How now, Koschevoi?
Kukubenko has spoken truth.

What have you to say to this ?" "What have I to say?
I say, Blessed be the father of such a son! It does not need much wisdom to utter words of reproof; but much wisdom is needed to find such words as do not embitter a man's misfortune, but encourage him, restore to him his spirit, put spurs to the horse of his soul, refreshed by water.

I meant myself to speak words of comfort to you, but Kukubenko has forestalled me." "The Koschevoi has also spoken well!" rang through the ranks of the Zaporozhtzi.

"His words are good," repeated others.

And even the greyheads, who stood there like dark blue doves, nodded their heads and, twitching their grey moustaches, muttered softly, "That was well said." "Listen now, gentles," continued the Koschevoi.