Of the Horeszkos, of the Pantler, from
A little door, among the columns hidden,
Glided a silent figure, like a phantom;
Gervasy by his face and height they knew,
And by the silver half-goats on his vest
Of yellow. Like a pillar stepped he forth,
Upright, severe, and mute, nor doffed his cap,
Nor bowed his head; he bore a gleaming key
Like to a dagger; straightway did he ope
A cabinet, and straight began to wind
A something in it. In two corners of
The hall there stood, against the pillars leaning,
Two ancient clocks with chimes, in cabinets
Enclosed. The old and crazy things had been
Long in discordance with the sun; they oft
Would point out noon at sunset. No idea
Gervasy had of mending the machines;
But would not leave the clocks unwound, so long
Each even he tortured with the key the clocks.
And now the time of winding had arrived,
And while the Chamberlain kept speaking still
Concerning the affairs of both the parties,
He lifted up the weight; the rusty wheels
Did gnash their broken teeth; the Chamberlain
Did shudder, and break off. “My brother,” cried he,
“Postpone thy busy labour.” Then he ended
His project of exchange. But in despite
The Klucznik pulled this time with greater force
The second weight; the bullfinch then that sat
Upon the summit of the clock began,
Fluttering its wings, to chirp the chime-notes out.
The bird with art was fashioned; pity ’twas
That it was spoiled; it groaned and squeaked, the more
The worse. The guests laughed loud. The Chamberlain
Must break off once again. “Sir Klucznik,” cried he,
“Or rather screech-owl,156 if you prize your beak,
I have had enough of shrieking.” But Gervasy
Betrayed no terror at this threat; he laid
With dignity his right hand on the clock,
And on his side his left. Supported thus
With both hands, he exclaimed: “Sir Chamberlain!
You are free to jest; a sparrow smaller is
Than is a screech-owl; but ’mid his own chips
He is bolder than a screech-owl in another’s
Mansion; a Klucznik is no screech-owl; he
Who creeps by night to strangers’ garrets is
A screech-owl, and I’ll frighten him away.”
“To the door with him!” cried the Chamberlain.
“Sir Count!” exclaimed the Klucznik, “do you see
What things are doing? Is your honour not
Already stained enough, in that you eat
And drink with these Soplicas? and was this
Needed, that I, the castle’s governor,
Gervas Rembajlo, Klucznik of Horeszko,
Should in my masters’ house insulted be,
And you endure it?” Then Protasy cried
Three times, “Be silent! Stand aside! For I,
Protasy Balthasar Brzechalski, of
Two names, once General of Tribunal, vulgo
Wozny, perform a Wozny’s summoning,
Formal revision, summoning all here,
These well-born persons present, witnesses,
And summoning the Assessor to inquiry,
On the behalf of the Most Powerful Judge
Soplica; for incursion, that is, trespass,
Across the boundary; for violence done
Unto the castle, which the Judge by right
Rules over, whereof here is open proof,
In that he eats therein!”—“Brzechaczu,” cried
The Klucznik, “I will teach thee!”—and he drew
The iron keys from out his girdle, whirled
The keys about his head; with all his force
He flung them. Like a stone hurled from a sling
The bunch of keys flew forth, and doubtlessly
Protasy’s head had shivered; by good luck
The Wozny bent aside, and thus ’scaped death.
All started from their seats; deep silence reigned
A moment; then the Judge exclaimed: “In handcuffs
This insolent fellow! Hallo! lads!” the servants
Rushed by the narrow way between the walls
And benches. But the Count then barricaded
Their passage with a chair, and this weak rampart
Supported with his foot; “Ware! ware!” he cried.
“Judge; none shall be allowed to wrong my servant
In my house. He who has complaint to make
Against this old man, let him bring’t to me.”
The Chamberlain then gazed askance into
The Count’s eyes. “I am able, sir, to punish,
Without your help, an insolent petty noble.
And you, Sir Count, too quickly do usurp
This castle, ere is given the decree.
Sit still as you have sat; if you respect not
Grey hairs, at least respect the highest office
Within the district.” “As for me,” the Count
Grumbled, “I’ve had enough of idle talk!
Make others weary with respect and office!
Sufficient fool I have already been,
In joining with you all in drinking-bouts,
That end in rudeness! Give me satisfaction
For wounding of my honour! Now good-bye
Till you are sober. Come with me, Gervasy.”
The Chamberlain such answer never had
Expected. He was filling up his glass,
When, smitten by the County’s insolence
As by a thunderbolt, his glass he rested
Against a steadfast bottle; to one side
He bent his head, and lent his ear; his eyes
Stared wildly, and his lips half opened. Silent
He yet remained, but in his hand the goblet
So strongly grasped he, that the glass was shivered,
Loud-ringing, in his eyes the liquid spirted;
And one had said that with the wine a fire
Was poured into his spirit, even so flamed
His visage, and his eyes glowed. He addressed
Himself to speak, but inarticulate,
The first words were ground down upon his lips;
At last they flew forth from between his teeth.
“Fool! miserable Count! I’ll—Thomas! bring
My sabre!—I will teach thee manners here!
Fool! damn him! offices and reverence weary
A delicate ear! I’ll cut thee round about
Those precious ears! Fora! out at the door!
Thomas! my sabre!” To his side at once
Sprang friends. The Judge now grasped him by the hand.
“Stop, friend, ’tis our affair! I first was challenged.
Protasy, bring my sabre! Such a dance
I’ll lead him, as a bear with sticks.” But Thaddeus
Restrained the Judge: “Sir uncle, is this fitting?
And you, Most Powerful Chamberlain, is’t worthy
Of you with such a coxcomb to engage?
Are there no young men here? Leave it to me.
I’ll punish him as suits.—And you, bold sir,
Who challenge old men, we will see if you
Are such a valiant knight; we’ll talk of this
To-morrow; we will choose the place and weapons.
To-day depart while you are safe.” The counsel
Was good. The Klucznik and the Count now fell
Into no trifling trouble. At the upper
End of the table a loud shrieking rose.
But from the lower end flew bottles round
The County’s head. The frightened women all
Were praying, weeping. Telimena cried
“Alas!” With lifted eyes she rose, and fell
Down in a swoon, upon the Count’s arm drooped,
And on his breast her swan-like bosom laid.
The
