So wide that he from it, as from a pail,
Could pour a torrent of a dozen bullets.
Both shouted, “Long live Baptist with the Sprinkler!”
The Prussian tried to speak; his words were drowned
By tumult and by laughter; they exclaimed,
“Away! thou Prussian! coward! he who is
A coward, let him hide himself beneath
A hood of Bernardine.” Old Matthew then
Slowly upraised his head, and then the noise
Began to cease a little. “Mock not,” said he;
“At Robak, ’tis a tough blade of a priest.
That tiny worm has gnawed a bigger nut
Than you. I saw him only once, he scarce
Had cast a glance, I knew at once the game.
The priest did turn away his eyes, as fearing
That I should deign confess him. But all that
Is no affair of mine; there’s much in this
To talk about. He never will come here.
’Tis vain to call the Bernardine to us.
If all this news proceed from him, who knows
With what intent? A devil of a priest
It is! If nought you know beside such news,
Why come you here, and what more do you wish?”
“War!” cried they.—“What war?” asked he. They replied,
“War with the Muscovites! To fight ’em! Hey!
Down with the Muscovites!” The Prussian shouted
Unceasingly, and ever raised his voice,
Until he gained a hearing, part by bowing,
And partly by his thin and noisy speech.
“I too desire to fight,” he cried, and smote
With both hands on his breast; “although I bear
No Sprinkler, with a barge-pole once I gave
Good christening to four Prussians at a time,
Who would have drowned me in the foamy Pregel.”
“You’re a bold fellow, Bartek!” Baptist cried.
“Good! Sprinkle, sprinkle!”—“But then, sweetest Jesus!
We first must know with whom to fight, and why;
Must tell it to the world,” the Prussian cried.
“For who will follow us? where shall they march?
When, whither go, when we ourselves don’t know?
Brother nobility! ye noble sirs!
Good gentlemen! we must have judgment, we
Must order have and regularity!
Ye wish for war. Let us confederate;190
Let us consider how we shall unite,
And underneath whose staff. So was it in
Great Poland; we the Germans saw retreat.
What did we? We in secret did advise;
We armed the nobles, and the peasant throng.
When ready, we did wait Dombrowski’s orders;
At last! heyday! to horse! we rose at once.”
“I beg a hearing,” the Commissary191
From Klecko cried. A young man, handsome, dressed
In German fashion. Buchman was he called.
But yet he was a Pole, in Poland born.
’Twas not for certain known if he descended
From nobles; but none asked concerning that,
And all respected Buchman, as he served
A great lord, a good patriot was, and versed
In learning; he from foreign books had learned
The art of husbandry, and with good order
Performed the administration of the lands.
From politics he sage conclusions drew,
By writings smooth and elegant could make
Himself renowned. And therefore all were still
When he began to speak. “I beg a hearing,”
Repeated he, and coughed three times; he bowed,
And thus with sounding lips he clattered forth:
“The previous speakers, in their eloquent
Speeches, have touched on all the vital points,
And chiefest; they have the discussion raised
Unto a higher standard. Unto me
Remains alone to blow unto one fire,
These scattered thoughts and reasonings. I have hopes
To reconcile all contrary opinions.
Two parts in the discussion have I marked,
Division is already made; I go
By this division. First of all, for what
Shall we make insurrection? in what spirit?
This is the first and foremost vital question
The second question doth concern itself,
With revolutionary government.
And this division is right excellent,
Only I fain would have it t’other way.
First to begin with government. As soon
As government I understand, therefrom
I may deduce its spirit and its aim.
So, as to government; as I glance o’er
The history of all humankind, what in it
Observe I? That the savage human race,
Scattered in forests, herd together, bind
Themselves together for their mutual
Defence; they this consider, and this is
The first of councils. Each one then lays down
A portion of his proper liberty
For general good; and this is the first statute,
From whence, as from a fount, all legislation
Doth flow. We therefore see that government
Is by agreement framed, proceeding not,
As some judge wrongly, from the will of God
But on a mutual contract government
The rather is supported, and division
Of powers is but a needful consequence.”
“There you have contracts! of Kiew or Minsk!”
Old Matthew cried out; “truly Babin rule!192
Pan Buchman, whether God sent us the Czar,
Or ’twere the devil, I’ll not quarrel with you,
But only tell us how to oust the Czar.”
“Ay! that’s the knotty point!” the Baptist cried.
“If I might spring up to the throne, and with
My Sprinkler plash and wet the Czar, no more
By any contract would he aye return,
Of Kiew, of Minsk, or any Buchman treaty;
Nor could his priests by power divine restore him,
Nor by the power of Belzebub. I call
Him a bold fellow, who will sprinkle. Buchman,
Your speech, good sir, was very eloquent,
But eloquence is froth and hum. To sprinkle,
That’s the chief thing.” “Just so, just so,” hissed forth,
Rubbing both hands together, Bartek, named
Razor, from Matthew to the Baptist running,
Like shuttle thrown from one side of a loom
Across its length unto the further side.
“Only thou Matthew with the Rod, and thou
Matthew with club, agree; by heaven! we
Shall smash the Muscovites to bits; the Awl
Will go beneath the orders of the Rod.”
“Command is good,” said Baptist; “for parade,
One order in the Kowno brigade we
Had, short and pithy: Frighten, but yourselves
Be not afraid! Fight, but surrender not.
March forward often, deal blows thickly round!
Whizz! whizz!’ ” “Yes, those the orders are for me,”
Replied the Awl; “why write an act? waste ink?
We must confederate? Why is all this coil?
Our Matthew be the Marshal, and the Rod
His staff.”—“Long live,” cried Baptist, “Weathercock!”
The nobles answered, “Long the Sprinkler live!”
But in the corners rose a murmur, though
’Twas stifled in the midst; ’twas seen the council
Was now divided in two parties. Buchman
Said, “Never praise I unanimity;
That is my system.” Some one else exclaimed,
“I lay my veto down!”193 some from the corners
Re-echoed him. At last a rough voice spoke:
The nobleman Skoluba late arrived.
“What’s this here, you Dobrzynskis? what is doing?
And we, are
