XXIII
The sword-bearer of Rossyeni had a difficult struggle with Panna Aleksandra before she consented to go to that feast which the hetman had prepared for his people. He had to implore almost with tears the stubborn, bold girl, and swear that it was a question of his head; that all, not only the military, but citizens dwelling in the region of Kyedani, as far as Radzivill’s hand reached, were obliged to appear under terror of the prince’s wrath: how then could they oppose who were subject to the favor and disfavor of the terrible man? Olenka, not to endanger her uncle, gave way.
The company was really not small, for he had forced many of the surrounding nobles to come with their wives and daughters. But the military were in the majority, and especially officers of the foreign regiments, who remained nearly all with the prince. Before he showed himself to the guests he prepared an affable countenance, as if no care had weighed on him previously; he wished with that banquet to rouse courage, not only in his adherents and the military, but to show that most of the citizens were on his side, and only turbulent people opposed the union with Sweden. He did not spare therefore trouble or outlay to make the banquet lordly, that the echo of it might spread as widely as possible through the land. Barely had darkness covered the country when hundreds of barrels were set on fire along the road leading to the castle and in the courtyard; from time to time cannons were thundering, and soldiers were ordered to give forth joyous shouts.
Carriages and covered wagons followed one another on the road, bringing personages of the neighborhood and the “cheaper” (smaller) nobility. The courtyard was filled with equipages, horses, and servants, who had either come with guests or belonged to the town. Crowds dressed in velvet, brocade, and costly furs filled the so-called “Golden Hall;” and when the prince appeared at last, all glittering from precious stones, and with a welcoming smile on his face, usually gloomy, and besides wrinkled at that time by sickness, the first officers shouted in one voice—
“Long live the prince hetman! Long live the voevoda of Vilna!”
Radzivill cast his eyes suddenly on the assembled citizens, wishing to convince himself whether they repeated the cries of the soldiers. In fact a few tens of voices from the most timid breasts repeated the cry; the prince on his part began at once to bow, and to thank them for the sincere and “unanimous” love.
“With you, gracious gentlemen!” said he, “we will manage those who would destroy the country. God reward you! God reward you!”
And he went around through the hall, stopped before acquaintances, not sparing titles in his speech—“Lord brother,” “dear neighbor;” and more than one gloomy face grew bright under the warm rays of the magnate’s favor.
“But it is not possible,” said those who till recently looked on his deeds with dislike, “that such a lord, such a lofty senator should wish ill to his country; either he could not act differently from what he has acted, or there is some secret in this, which will come out for the good of the Commonwealth.”
“In fact, we have more rest already from one enemy who does not wish to light about us with the Swedes.”
“God grant that all turn out for the best.”
Some, however, shook their heads, or said with a look to one another, “We are here because they put the knife to our throats.”
But these were silent; meanwhile others, more easily brought over, said in loud voices, to be heard by the prince—
“It is better to change the king than ruin the Commonwealth.”
“Let the kingdom think of itself, but we will think of ourselves.”
“Besides, who has given us an example, if not Great Poland? Extrema necessitas, extremis nititur rationibus! Tentanda omnia!”
“Let us put all confidence in our prince, and trust him in everything. Let him have Lithuania and the government in his hands.”
“He deserves both. If he will not save us, we perish—in him is salvation.”
“He is nearer to us than Yan Kazimir, for he is our blood.”
Radzivill caught with an eager ear those voices, dictated by fear or flattery, and did not consider that they came from the mouths of weak persons, who in danger would be the first to desert him—from the mouths of persons whom every breath of wind might bend as a wave. And he was charmed with those expressions, and tempted himself, or his own conscience, repeating from the maxims he had heard that which seemed to excuse him the most: “Extrema necessitas, extremis nititur rationibus!”
But when passing a large group of nobles he heard from the lips of Pan Yujits, “He is nearer to us than Yan Kazimir,” his face grew bright altogether. To compare him with the king, and then to prefer him, flattered his pride; he approached Pan Yujits at once and said—
“You are right, brothers, for in Yan Kazimir, in one pot of blood there is a quart of Lithuanian, but in me there is nothing but Lithuanian. If hitherto
