“Never!” answered Zagloba, with conviction.
“Still, it is not proper to advance that candidacy too decidedly at first. Let the name strike people’s ears, but let it not seem too formidable to opponents; let them rather laugh at it, and sneer, so that they may not raise too serious impediments. Perhaps, too, God will grant it to succeed quickly, when the intrigues of parties bring them to mutual destruction. Smooth the road for it gradually, your grace, and grow not weary in labor; for this is your candidate, worthy of your reason and experience. God bless you in these plans!”
“Am I to suppose,” inquired Zagloba, “that your dignity has been thinking also of Prince Michael?”
The vice-chancellor took from his sleeve a small book on which the title Censura Candidatorum stood in large black letters, and said, “Read, your grace; let this letter answer for me.”
Then the vice-chancellor began preparations for going; but Zagloba detained him and said, “Permit me, your dignity, to say something more. First of all, I thank God that the lesser seal is in hands which can bend men like wax.”
“How is that?” asked the vice-chancellor, astonished.
“Secondly, I will tell your dignity in advance that the candidacy of Prince Michael is greatly to my heart, for I knew his father, and loved him and fought under him with my friends; they too will be delighted in soul at the thought that they can show the son that love which they had for the father. Therefore I seize at this candidacy with both hands, and this day I will speak with Pan Krytski—a man of great family and my acquaintance, who is in high consideration among the nobles, for it is difficult not to love him. We will both do what is in our power; and God grant that we shall effect something!”
“May the angels attend you!” said the prelate; “if you do that, we have nothing more to say.”
“With the permission of your dignity I have to speak of one thing more; namely, that your dignity should not think to yourself thuswise: ‘I have put my own wishes into his mouth; I have talked into him this idea that he has found out of his own wit the candidacy of Prince Michael—speaking briefly, I have twisted the fool in my hand as if he were wax.’ Your dignity, I will advance the cause of Prince Michael, because it is to my heart—that is what the case is; because, as I see, it is to the heart also of your dignity—that is what the case is! I will advance it for the sake of his mother, for the sake of my friends; I will advance it because of the confidence which I have in the head” (here Zagloba inclined) “from which that Minerva sprang forth, but not because I let myself be persuaded, like a little boy, that the invention is mine; and in fine, not because I am a fool, but for the reason that when a wise man tells me a wise thing, old Zagloba says, ‘Agreed!’ ”
Here the noble inclined once more. The vice-chancellor was confused considerably at first; but seeing the good-humor of the noble and that the affair was taking the turn so much desired, he laughed from his whole soul, then seizing his head with both hands, he began to repeat—
“Ulysses! as God is dear to me, a genuine Ulysses! Lord brother, whoso wishes to do a good thing must deal with men variously; but with you I see it is requisite to strike the quick straightway. You have pleased my heart immensely.”
“As Prince Michael has mine.”
“May God give you health! Ha! I am beaten, but I am glad. You must have eaten many a starling in your youth. And this signet ring—if it will serve to commemorate our colloquium—”
“Let that ring remain in its own place,” said Zagloba.
“You will do this for me—”
“I cannot by any means. Perhaps another time—later on—after the election.”
The vice-chancellor understood, and insisted no more; he went out, however, with a radiant face.
Zagloba conducted him to the gate, and returning, muttered, “Ha! I gave him a lesson! One rogue met another. But it is an honor. Dignitaries will outrun one another in coming to these gates. I am curious to know what the ladies think of this!”
The ladies were indeed full of admiration; and Zagloba grew to the ceiling, especially in the eyes of Pan Michael’s sister, so that he had barely shown himself when she exclaimed with great enthusiasm, “You have surpassed Solomon in wisdom.”
And Zagloba was very glad. “Whom have I surpassed, do you say? Wait, you will see hetmans, bishops, and senators here; I shall have to escape from them or hide behind the curtains.”
Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Ketling.
“Ketling, do
