To see the eagles, golden, silver, when
The trumpeters Kosciuszko’s réveille
Sound in thine ears? Matthew, I thought thou wert
A bolder fellow! If thou wilt not draw
Thy sabre, and on horseback mount, at least
Thou’lt drink with thy companions merrily
Unto Napoleon’s and to Poland’s health.
“Ha!” Matthew said, “I see what here is doing.
But, sir, two eagles may not nest together.
Lords’ favour, Hetman, rides on piebald horse.267
The Emperor’s a great warrior, much is there
To talk of. I remember the Pulawskis,268
My friends, were used to say about Dumourier,269—
For Poland there must be a Polish hero,
No Frenchman, nor Italian, but a Piast;270
Must be a John, a Joseph, or a Matthew.
E basta! Army! Polish ’tis, they say;
But fusiliers, and sappers, grenadiers,
And cannoniers; we hear more German titles
Than native in this crowd. Who understands this?
And there must also be among you Turks,
And Tartars, or schismatics, with no God
Or faith. Myself I saw it! they assault
The women in the hamlets, rob the passers,
And pillage churches. Moscow. The Emperor goes to Moscow.
A long way, if his Majesty the Emperor
Has made this undertaking without God.
I have heard he is already under curse
Of a bishop. All this is”—here Matthew dipped
Bread in the soup, and eating, ended not
His sentence. Matthew’s sayings did not please
The Chamberlain. The younger folk besides
Began to murmur. Then the Judge broke off
These quarrels, by proclaiming the arrival
Of the third pair betrothed. It was the Regent.
Himself proclaimed himself the Regent, else
None would have known him. Hitherto he had worn
The Polish costume, but now Telimena,
His future wife,271 obliged him by a clause
Of marriage-contract to renounce the kontusz.
And so the Regent willy-nilly dressed
Himself in French costume. Well might be seen
The frac had taken half his soul away.
He stepped as he a stick had swallowed, straight,
Unmoving, like a crane; he dared not look
To right or left; he came with stately mien,
But from his mien one saw he suffered tortures.
He knew not how to bend, or where to place
His hands, who so loved gestures. At his girdle
He would have placed his hands—there was no girdle,
So he but stroked his waist. He saw his error;
And in confusion coloured fiery red,272
And in one pocket of the frac concealed
Both hands. He stepped as though through rods, through whispers
And mockings, shame enduring for the frac,
As for an evil deed. At last he met
The eyes of Matthew, and with fear he trembled.
Matthew till then had been the Regent’s friend;
Now on him such a sharp and savage glance
He turned, that pale the Regent grew, began
To fasten close his buttons, thinking Matthew
Would strip him of the frac by looks alone.
Dobrzynski only twice said loudly, “Fool!”
But such his anger at the Regent’s dress,
That he at once from table rose, without
Leave-taking made his exit, and on horseback
Mounting, returned unto his farmstead home.
But in the meantime did the Regent’s love,
Fair Telimena, all her beauty’s splendours
And of her dress display, from head to foot
All in the newest fashion. What her dress
Or head adornment seemed, ’twere vain to write;
The pen could not exhaust them, only might
The pencil trace those tulles, those blondes, cashmeres,
Those pearls and precious stones, and rosied cheeks,
And lively glances. Instantly the Count
Had recognised her; with astonishment
All pale he rose from table, sought his sword.
“And is it thou?” he cried, “or do mine eyes
Deceive me? Thou, who in my presence claspest
A stranger’s hand? O faithless being! thou
Most changeful soul! Thou dost not hide with shame
Thy face beneath the earth? Thus art thou mindless
Of such late vows? How credulous I was!
Wherefore have I these ribbons worn? But woe
Unto the rival who affronts me thus!
He shall not to the altar pass, except
Upon my corpse.” The guests arose, the Regent
Confounded greatly; to appease the rivals
The Chamberlain makes haste. But Telimena,
Leading the Count aside: “As yet,” she whispered,
“The Regent has not taken me to wife.
If you will hinder it, pray tell me so.
But answer me at once, and in few words,
If you do love me? have you hitherto
Not changed your heart? are you prepared to-day
To marry me? at once? to-day? and if
You will, I’ll leave the Regent.” Said the Count:
“O woman! unto me not understood!
Once in thy sentiments thou wast a poet,
And now to me thou seemest nought but prose.
What are your marriages, if aught but chains,
That only fetter hands, and bind not souls?
Believe me, they are only declarations
Without confession; they are obligations,
Which bind not! Two hearts at the world’s far ends
Burning, converse like stars with trembling beams.
Who knows? maybe for this cause towards the sun
The earth aye presses, and is therefore ever
So dear unto the moon; eternally
They gaze upon each other, and for aye
Haste by the shortest way each other toward,
But never can approach”—“Enough of this,”
She interrupted; “I am not a planet!
For Heaven’s sake enough, Count! I am a woman.
I know the rest already. Cease to talk
To me of things not here nor there. And now,
I warn you, if you whisper but one word
To break my wedding off, as true as God
In heaven is, I with these nails will spring
At you, and”—“I will not,” the Count replied,
“Madam, disturb your happiness.” He turned
Away his eyes all full of scorn and grief,
And as to punish his unfaithful love,
He took the daughter of the Chamberlain
For object of his steadfast fires. The Wojski
Desired to make the angry youths agree
By wise examples; therefore he began
To adduce the wild-boar story in the woods
Of Naliboko, and of Rejtan’s quarrel
With Prince Denassau. But the guests meanwhile
Had left off eating ices, and they went
For coolness from the castle to the court.
There had the peasantry their feast concluded:
Pitchers of mead were circling round; the music
Was tuning now, and calling to the dance.
They sought for Thaddeus, who stood apart,
And whispered something to his future wife:
“Sophia, I must now in a thing of weight
Take counsel with thee; I have asked my uncle,
And he has no objection. Thou dost know,
A large proportion of those villages
I shall possess, according to the
