But gallops on with flowing mane.

The rider needs his well-filled purse,

The soldier; pride is in his sword,

The restive steed is his dear pet;

But dearer still is his fur cap.

Sooner than it, he well might lose

His steed, full purse, and shining sword;

Would fight to death in its defence,

And shed last drop of his wild blood.

What makes his cap so dear to him?

Within it lies the missive hid,

Wherein the Hetman is denounced

As traitor to the mighty Tsar.

Unconscious of the brooding storm,

And fearing naught from secret foe,

Mazeppa weaves his subtle plot.

The jesuit, his close ally,

Excites the people to revoit,

And gives him promise of the throne.

The two, like thieves, at night debate

The sum that buys each man they need;

Invent a cipher safe and sure,

That none their treason may suspect;

They fix a price on Peter's head;

With cheating oaths their vassals bribe.

An almsman... none knew whence he came...

Begins to haunt the palace-folk;

Orlick, the rebel Hetman's aid,

Oft sends him there, or calls him thence;

Where'er they come, his purchased spies

Disorder spread and discontent,

They raise the Cossacks of the Don,

Ally themselves with Bolavine,