And, speaking French, he made them to agree.
What there he said I know not, but it was
Only as ashes laid upon hot coals,
For Rejtan took this much to heart; he waited
Only an opportunity, and promised
To make the German pay for this. Well-nigh
He paid with his own life for this offence,
And did it on the morrow, as I’ll tell.”
Here ceased the Wojski, and his right hand raised,
And for his snuff-box asked the Chamberlain.
He long time used it, and deigned not to end
His story, as he thought thereby to sharpen
The listeners’ curiosity. At last
This curious story he resumed; they listened
With fixed attention; but again the tale
Was broken off. For some one to the Judge
Had sent a messenger, to say that he
Was waiting with some business very urgent,
Which might not be deferred. Good-night then giving
To all the assembly, took the Judge his leave.
They parted and went divers; some to sleep
Inside the house; the others in the barn
Among the hay. Then went the Judge to give
An audience to the traveller. The rest
Already slept. But Thaddeus crept along
The passages, and like a sentry paced
All up and down before his uncle’s door,
For he in weighty matters must request
His counsel ere he sleep. He dared not knock;
The Judge had locked the door, and secretly
Conversed with some one. Thaddeus waited till
The end should come, and listened at the door.
He heard within a sobbing. Stirring not
The latch, he gazed, with careful heeding, through
The keyhole. There he saw a wondrous thing,
The Judge and Robak kneeling on the ground,
Embracing, while they wept with bitter tears.
Robak the hands was kissing of the Judge,
The Judge embraced the priest upon the neck,
And wept. At last, a quarter of an hour
Being past while they kept silence, Robak spoke
These words in a low voice: “The Lord knows, brother,
I hitherto have kept those secret vows,
Which I in sorrow made, beneath the seal
Of absolution; that all consecrate
To God and to my country, serving not
Pride, neither seeking earthly glory, I
Have lived till now, and I have willed to die
A Bernardine, discovering not my name;
Not hiding from the vulgar only, but
From thee and mine own son. Yet from the Father
Provincial I had leave, in case of death,
To make full revelation of my name.
Who knows if I return alive? Who knows
What may occur? In Dobrzyn, brother, is
Great, great confusion. Still the French are far;
The winter must pass by; we still must wait,
But nothing can withhold the nobles. I
Perhaps was far too busy with this rising;
Perhaps they understood me ill. The Klucznik
Has spoilt it all. That madman Count, I hear,
Hastened to Dobrzyn. I could not forestall him,
There is a weighty reason why I could not,
For old Matthias has recognised me; if
He lets the secret out, I then must give
My neck unto the Penknife. Nothing will
Restrain the Klucznik. ’Tis but a small matter
About my head, but such discovery
Would break the whole web of conspiracy.
But yet I must be there to-day, to see
What they are doing, even though I die.
Without me all the nobles will go mad.
Farewell to thee, farewell, my dearest brother!
I must make haste. If I should perish, thou
Alone must breathe a sigh forth for my soul
In case of war, the secret unto thee
Is known, do thou complete what I began.
Remember ever, thou art a Soplica!”
The priest here dried his eyes, composed his frock,
Drew down his cowl, in silence opened wide
The window at the back, and from the window
He sprang into the garden; left alone,
The Judge sat in an arm-chair, and he wept.
A moment waited Thaddeus, ere he stirred;
The latch; the door was opened, and he entered
In silence, and low bending, said, “Good uncle,
A few days scarcely have I tarried here.
These days passed like a minute. I have not
Had time sufficient to enjoy thy house
And presence; yet I now must ride away,
And hasten, even to-day, my uncle, and
Be far away to-morrow. You indeed
Remember we the Count have challenged. ’Tis
My business to fight with him; I have sent
The challenge. Duelling in Litva is
Forbidden; I will go unto the frontier
Of Warsaw’s Duchy. Though the Count indeed
A coxcomb is, he has no lack of courage,
He’ll surely come unto the place assigned.
We will arrange our meeting, and as fitting
I’ll punish him, if Heaven prosper me.
Then from the shores of the Lososna I
Will swim the stream, upon whose farther shore
Our brothers’ ranks await me. I have heard
My father’s testament commanded me
To serve in the army, and I know not who
This testament has cancelled.” Said the uncle:
“My Thaddeus, are you in boiling water,
That thus you twist round like a hunted fox,
Who wags his tail one way, but runs another?
We sent a challenge truly, and ’tis fitting
To fight; but why such haste? why go to-day?
The usual custom is, before a duel,
To send a friend, and make conditions. Then
The Count may beg our pardon, deprecate.
You wait a little; there is time enough,
Unless some other demon drives you hence.
Tell me sincerely, why so roundabout?
I am your uncle, and though old, I know
What young hearts are; I have been to thee a father”—
This saying, he stroked him underneath the chin—
“My little finger has already whispered
Something of this to me, that you have some
Affairs among the ladies-hang it! now
Young men take quickly to the ladies! Well,
Thaddeus, confess it all to me, and truly.”
“True,” stammered Thaddeus; “true; some other reasons
There are, dear uncle; ’tis my fault perhaps.
An error a misfortune! hard to mend.
Dear uncle, no, I dare no longer stay.
A fault of youth! My uncle, ask no more!
I must from Soplicowo part in haste.”
“Ho!” said the uncle, “love disputes no doubt!
I marked how yesterday you bit your lips,
While looking on a certain little girl
Askance. She also had, as I perceived,
A little pouting mien. I know these fooleries!
How when a pair of children are in love,
’Tis sorrow measureless; they now rejoice,
Now are cross and sad. Heaven knoweth why, they quarrel
Both tooth and nail; now, sulking in their corners,
They will not speak to one another, even
Sometimes they run away into the fields.
If this has chanced to you, I’ll take on me
To reconcile
