Pan Michael

"Still, it is so connected with your grace that at times no one mentions your real name, but says, 'Our Ulysses,' and all divine at once whom the orator means. Therefore, in these difficult and eventful times, when more than one wavers in his thoughts and does not know whither to turn, whom to uphold, I said to myself, 'I will go and hear convictions, free myself from doubt, enlighten my mind with clear counsel.' You will divine, your grace, that I wish to speak of the coming election, in view of which every estimate of candidates may lead to some good; but what must one be which flows from the mouth of your grace? I have heard it repeated with the greatest applause among the knighthood that you are opposed to those foreigners who are pus.h.i.+ng themselves on to our lordly throne. In the veins of the Vazas, as you explained, there flowed Yagellon blood,--hence they could not be considered as strangers; but those foreigners, as you said, neither know our ancient Polish customs nor will they respect our liberties, and hence absolute rule may arise easily. I acknowledge to your grace that these are deep words; but pardon me if I inquire whether you really uttered them, or is it public opinion that from custom ascribes all profound sentences to you in the first instance?"

"These ladies are witness," answered Zagloba; "and though this subject is not suited to their judgment, let them speak, since Providence in its inscrutable decrees has given them the gift of speech equally with us."

The vice-chancellor looked involuntarily on Pani Makovetski, and then on the two young ladies nestled up to each other. A moment of silence followed. Suddenly the silvery voice of Basia was heard,--

"I did not hear anything!"

Then she was confused terribly and blushed to her very ears, especially when Zagloba said at once, "Pardon her, your dignity. She is young, therefore giddy. But as to candidates, I have said more than once that our Polish liberty will weep by reason of these foreigners."

"I fear that myself," said the prelate; "but even if we wished some Pole, blood of our blood and bone of our bone, tell me, your grace, to what side should we turn our hearts? Your grace's very thought of a Pole is great, and is spreading through the country like a flame; for I hear that everywhere in the diets which are not fettered by corruption one voice is to be heard, 'A Pole, a Pole!'"

"Justly, justly!" interrupted Zagloba. "Still," continued the vice-chancellor, "it is easier to call for a Pole than to find a fit person; therefore let your grace be not astonished if I ask whom you had in mind."

"Whom had I in mind?" repeated Zagloba, somewhat puzzled; and pouting his lips, he wrinkled his brows. It was difficult for him to give a sudden answer, for hitherto not only had he no one in mind, but in general he had not those ideas at all which the keen prelate had attributed to him. Besides, he knew this himself, and understood that the vice-chancellor was inclining him to some side; but he let himself be inclined purposely, for it flattered him greatly. "I have insisted only in principle that we need a Pole," said he at last; "but to tell the truth, I have not named any man thus far."

"I have heard of the ambitious designs of Prince Boguslav Radzivill,"

muttered the prelate, as if to himself.

"While there is breath in my nostrils, while the last drop of blood is in my breast," cried Zagloba, with the force of deep conviction, "nothing will come of that! I should not wish to live in a nation so disgraced as to make a traitor and a Judas its king."

"That is the voice not only of reason, but of civic virtue," muttered the vice-chancellor, again.

"Ha!" thought Zagloba, "if you wish to draw me, I will draw you."

Then the vice-chancellor began anew: "When wilt thou sail in, O battered s.h.i.+p of my country? What storms, what rocks are in wait for thee? In truth, it will be evil if a foreigner becomes thy steersman; but it must be so evidently, if among thy sons there is no one better."

Here he stretched out his white hands, ornamented with glittering rings, and inclining his head,

"That is impossible! A Pole!" answered Zagloba.

"Who?" inquired the prelate.

Silence followed. Then the prelate began to speak again: "If there were even one on whom all could agree! Where is there a man who would touch the heart of the knighthood at once, so that no one would dare to murmur against his election? There was one such, the greatest, who had rendered most service,--your worthy friend, O knight, who walked in glory as in sunlight. There was such a--"

"Prince Yeremi Vishnyevetski!" interrupted Zagloba.

"That is true. But he is in the grave."

"His son lives," replied Zagloba.

The vice-chancellor half closed his eyes, and sat some time in silence; all at once he raised his head, looked at Zagloba, and began to speak slowly: "I thank G.o.d for having inspired me with the idea of knowing your grace. That is it! the son of the great Yeremi is alive,--a prince young and full of hope, to whom the Commonwealth has a debt to pay. Of his gigantic fortune nothing remains but glory,--that is his only inheritance. Therefore in the present times of corruption, when every man turns his eyes only to where gold is attracting, who will mention his name, who will have the courage to make him a candidate? You? True!

But will there be many like you? It is not wonderful that he whose life has been pa.s.sed in heroic struggles on all fields will not fear to give homage to merit with his vote on the field of election; but will others follow his example?" Here the vice-chancellor fell to thinking, then raised his eyes and spoke on: "G.o.d is mightier than all. Who knows His decisions, who knows? When I think how all the knighthood believe and trust you, I see indeed with wonderment that a certain hope enters my heart. Tell me sincerely, has the impossible ever existed for you?"

"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, G.o.d 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. G.o.d 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 t.i.tle "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 G.o.d 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 n.o.bles, for it is difficult not to love him. We will both do what is in our power; and G.o.d 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 n.o.ble inclined once more. The vice-chancellor was confused considerably at first; but seeing the good-humor of the n.o.ble 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 surpa.s.sed Solomon in wisdom."

And Zagloba was very glad. "Whom have I surpa.s.sed, 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 you want promotion?" cried Zagloba, still charmed with his own significance.

"No!" answered the knight, in sadness; "for I must leave you again, and for a long time."

Zagloba looked at him more attentively. "How is it that you are so cut down?"

"Just for this, that I am going away."

"Whither?"

"I have received letters from Scotland, from old friends of my father and myself. My affairs demand me there absolutely; perhaps for a long time. I am grieved to part with all here--but I must."

Zagloba, going into the middle of the room, looked at Pan Michael's sister, then at the young ladies, and asked, "Have you heard? In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!"