"One gentleman stands silent and alone between the groups; he is evidently a non-partisan and is timidly hesitating for whom to give his vote! He does not know, and is at odds with himself; he leaves it to chance-he has lifted up his hands and extended his thumbs; with his eyes shut he aims nail against nail; evidently he will trust his vote to fortune; if the thumbs meet, he will cast an affirmative ballot, but if they miss he will deposit a negative.
"On the left is another scene, a convent refectory, transformed into the a.s.sembly hall of the gentry. The older men are seated in a row on benches; the younger are standing and looking curiously over their heads towards the centre; in the centre stands the Marshal, holding the urn in his hands; he is counting the b.a.l.l.s, and the gentry devour them with their eyes; he has just shaken out the last one: the Apparitors raise their hands and announce the name of the elected official.
"One gentlemen has no respect for the general concord: see, he has thrust in his head from the window of the refectory kitchen; see his wide-open eyes, how insolently he stares; he has opened his mouth as though he wanted to eat up the whole roomful: it is easy to guess that this gentlemen has shouted "_Veto!_" See how at that sudden challenge to a quarrel the throng is crowding to the door; they are evidently on their way to the kitchen; they have drawn their swords, and a b.l.o.o.d.y fight is sure to break out.
"But there in the corridor, sirs, pray notice that reverend old priest advancing in his chasuble; that is the Prior bringing the Host from the altar, while a boy in a surplice rings a bell and asks all to give way.
The gentry at once sheathe their sabres, cross themselves, and kneel; but the priest turns in the direction whence a clink of arms is still heard: soon he will arrive, and at once he will calm and reconcile all.
"Ah, you young men, do not remember this, how among our turbulent, self-willed gentry, always under arms though they were, no police were ever needed: while the true faith flourished, laws were respected; there was liberty with order and glory along with plenty I In other lands, I hear, the government maintains soldiers and all sorts of policemen, gendarmes, and constables. But if the sword alone guards the public security, then I shall never believe that liberty can exist in those lands."
Suddenly, tapping his snuffbox, the Chamberlain said:-
"Seneschal, I pray you, postpone these stories until later; this diet is a curious thing, to be sure, but we are hungry; pray, sir, have them bring in the dinner."
Bending down his wand to the floor, the Seneschal replied:-
"Your Excellency, pray grant me this indulgence; I will speedily finish with the last scene of the district diets. Here is the new Marshal, borne out of the refectory on the shoulders of his partisans; see how the brother gentlemen are throwing up their caps and standing with open mouths-vivats! But there on the other side lingers the outvoted candidate, all alone, with his cap pulled down over his gloomy brow; his wife is waiting in front of her house, and has guessed what is going on. Poor woman, now she is fainting in the arms of her maid! Poor woman, she was to have received the t.i.tle of Right Honourable, but now she is left just Honourable for three more years!"
Here the Seneschal concluded his description, and gave a sign with his wand; immediately lackeys began to enter in pairs, bringing the different dishes: the beet soup called royal, and the old-Polish broth, artistically prepared, into which the Seneschal in marvellous and mysterious wise had thrown several pearls and a piece of money; such broth purifies the blood and fortifies the health; after it came other dishes-but who could describe them all! Who would even comprehend those dishes of _kontuz, arkas_, and _blemas_,206 no longer known in our times, with their ingredients of cod, stuffing, civet, musk, caramel, pine nuts, damson plums! And those fish! Dry salmon from the Danube, sturgeon, Venetian and Turkish caviare, pikes and pickerel a cubit long, flounders, and capon carp, and n.o.ble carp! Finally a culinary mystery: an uncut fish, fried at the head, baked in the middle, and with its tail in a ragout with sauce.
The guests did not ask the names of the dishes, nor were they halted by that curious mystery; they ate everything rapidly with a soldier"s appet.i.te, filling their gla.s.ses with the generous Hungarian wine.
But meanwhile the great centrepiece had changed its colour,207 and, stripped of its snow, had already turned green; for the light froth of sugared ice, slowly warmed by the summer heat, had melted and disclosed a foundation hitherto hidden from the eye: so the landscape now represented a new time of year, shining with a green, many-coloured spring. Various grains came forth, as if yeast were making them grow; gilded ears of saffron wheat were seen in rich profusion, also rye, clad in leaves of picturesque silver, and buckwheat, made artistically of chocolate, and orchards blooming with pears and apples.
The guests had scant time to enjoy the gifts of summer; in vain they begged the Seneschal to prolong them. Already the centrepiece, like a planet in its appointed revolution, was changing the season of the year; already the grain, painted with gold, had gathered warmth from the room, and was slowly melting; already the gra.s.ses were growing yellow and the leaves were turning crimson and were falling; you might have said that an autumn wind was blowing; finally those trees, gorgeous an instant before, now stood naked, as if they had been stripped by the winds and the frost; they were sticks of cinnamon, or twigs of laurel that counterfeited pines, being clad in caraway seeds instead of needles.
The guests, as they drank their wine, began to tear off the branches, stumps, and roots, and to chew them as a relish. The Seneschal walked about the centrepiece, and, full of joy, turned triumphant eyes upon the guests.
Henryk Dombrowski feigned great amazement, and said:-
"My friend the Seneschal, are these Chinese shadows? Or has Pinety208 given you his demons as servants? Do such centrepieces still exist among you, here in Lithuania, and do all men feast in this ancient fashion? Tell me, for I have pa.s.sed my life abroad."
"No, Your Excellency the General," said the Seneschal with a bow, "these are no G.o.dless arts! This is only a reminder of those famous banquets that used to be given in the mansions of our ancient magnates, when Poland enjoyed happiness and power! All that I have done I learned by reading in this book. You ask me whether this custom has been preserved everywhere in Lithuania. Alas, new fashions are already creeping in even among us! Many a young gentleman exclaims that he cannot stand the expense; he eats like a Jew, grudging his guests food and drink; he is stingy with the Hungarian wine, and drinks that devilish, adulterated, fashionable Muscovite champagne; then in the evening he loses as much money at cards as would suffice for a banquet for a hundred gentlemen and brothers. Even-for what I have in my heart I will to-day speak out frankly; let not the Chamberlain take it ill of me-when I was getting that wonderful centre-*piece from the treasure room, then even the Chamberlain, even he made fun of me, saying that this was a tiresome, antiquated contrivance-that it looked like a child"s plaything and was unfit for such famous men as we have with us to-day! Judge!-even you, Judge, said that it would bore the guests! And yet, so far as I may infer from the amazement of the company, I see that this is fine art, that it was worthy of being seen! I doubt whether a like occasion will ever again return for entertaining at Soplicowo such dignitaries. I see, General, that you are an expert at banquets; pray accept this book: it will be of use to you some day when you are giving a feast for a company of foreign monarchs, or perhaps one even for Napoleon himself. But permit me, before I tender the book to you, to relate by what chance it fell into my hands."
Suddenly a murmur arose outside the door, and many voices shouted in unison, "Long live c.o.c.k-on-the-Steeple!" A throng pushed into the hall, with Maciej at their head. The Judge led the guest by the hand to the table and gave him a high seat among the leaders, saying:-
"Pan Maciej, unkind neighbour, you come very late, when dinner is almost over."
"I eat early," replied Dobrzynski; "I did not come here for food, but only because I was overpowered by curiosity to see close at hand our national army. Of this much might be said; it is neither fish, flesh, nor fowl.
These gentlemen caught sight of me and brought me here by force; and you, sir, are compelling me to seat myself at your table-I thank you, neighbour."
With these words he turned his plate bottom upwards, as a sign that he would not eat, and relapsed into glum silence.
"Pan Dobrzynski," said General Dombrowski to him, "are you that famous swordsman of the Kosciuszko times, that Maciej, called Switch! Your fame has reached me. And pray tell me, is it possible that you are still so hale, so vigorous! How many years have gone by! See, I have grown old; see, Kniaziewicz too has grizzled hair; but you might still enter the lists against young men. And your switch doubtless blooms as it did long ago; I have heard that recently you birched the Muscovites. But where are your brethren? I should beyond measure like to see those penknives and razors of yours, the last relics of ancient Lithuania."
"After that victory, General," said the Judge, "almost all the Dobrzynskis took refuge in the Grand Duchy, and must have entered one or other of the legions."
"Why certainly," answered a young squadron commander, "I have in the second company a mustachioed scarecrow, Sergeant-Major Dobrzynski, who calls himself Sprinkler, but whom the Masovians call the Lithuanian bear.
If you bid me, General, we will have him brought in."
"There are several other natives of Lithuania here," said a lieutenant.
"One such soldier is known under the name of Razor; another carries a blunderbuss and rides with the sharp-shooters; there are likewise two grenadiers named Dobrzynski in the cha.s.seur regiment."
"Well, but I want to know about their chief," said the General, "about that Penknife of whom the Seneschal has told me so many marvels, worthy of one of the giants of old times."
"Penknife," said the Seneschal, "though he did not go into exile, nevertheless feared the result of an investigation, and hid himself from the Muscovites; all winter the poor fellow roamed about the forests, and he has only recently come forth from them. In these times of war he might have been good for something, for he is a valorous man, only he is unfortunately a trifle bowed by age. But here he is."
Here the Seneschal pointed towards the vestibule, where servants and peasants were standing crowded together. Above the heads of all a shining bald pate showed itself suddenly like the full moon; thrice it emerged and thrice it vanished in the cloud of heads; the Warden was bowing as he strode forward, until finally he made his way out of the press, and said:-
"Your Excellency the Hetman of the Crown-or General-never mind which is the correct t.i.tle-I am Rembajlo, and I present myself at your summons with this my penknife, which, not by its setting nor by its inscriptions but by its temper, has won such fame that even Your Excellency knows of it. If it knew how to speak, perchance it would say somewhat in praise even of this old arm, which, thank G.o.d, has served long and faithfully the Fatherland and likewise the family of the h.o.r.eszkos: of which fact the memory is still famous among men. My boy, rarely does a bookkeeper on an estate mend pens so deftly as this penknife cleaves heads: it were long to count them!
And noses and ears without number! But there is not a single nick upon it, and no murderous deed has ever stained it, but only open war, or a duel.
Only once!-may the Lord give him eternal rest!-an unarmed man, alas, fell beneath its edge! But even that, G.o.d is my witness, was _pro publico bono_."
"Show it to me," said General Dombrowski with a laugh. "That is a lovely penknife, a real headsman"s sword!"
He gazed with amazement on the huge blade, and pa.s.sed it on to the other officers; all of them tried it, but hardly one of the officers could lift that blade on high. They said that Dembinski,209 famous for his strength of arm, could have brandished the broadsword, but he was not there. Of those present only the squadron commander Dwernicki,210 and Lieutenant Rozycki,211 the leader of a platoon, managed to swing the iron pole: thus the blade was pa.s.sed for trial from hand to hand along the line.
But General Kniaziewicz, the tallest of stature, proved to be also the stoutest of arm. Seizing the huge blade, he swung it as lightly as a common sword and flashed it like lightning over the heads of the guests, recalling to their minds the tricks of the Polish school of fencing, the _cross stroke_, the _mill_, the _crooked slash_, the _downright blow_, the _stolen slash_, and the att.i.tudes of _counterpoint_212 and _tierce_, which he knew likewise, for he had been trained in the School of Cadets.
While he was still laughing and fencing, Rembajlo had kneeled and embraced him about the knees, and was groaning out between his tears, at every turn of the sword:-
"Beautiful! General, were you ever a confederate? Beautiful, splendid!
That is the Pulawskis"213 thrust! Thus Dzierzanowski214 bore himself! That is Sawa"s thrust! Who can so have trained your arm except Maciej Dobrzynski! But that? General, that is my invention; in Heaven"s name, I do not wish to boast, but that stroke is known only in Rembajlo hamlet, and from my name it is called _My-boy"s slash_. Who can have taught it to you? That is my stroke, mine!"
He rose and clasped the General in his arms.
"Now I can die in peace! There still exists a man who will fondle my darling child; for I have long been grieving, both day and night, at the thought that after my death this my blade might rust away! Now it will not rust! Your Excellency the General, forgive me!-throw away those spits, those German swordlets; it is shameful for a gentleman"s son to wear that little cane! Take instead a sabre such as befits a gentleman: now I lay at your feet this my penknife, which is the most precious thing that I possess in all the world. I have never had a wife, I have never had a child: it has been both wife and child to me; from my embrace it has never departed; from dawn till dark have I petted it; it has slept by night at my side! And since I have grown old, it has been hanging on the wall above my couch, like G.o.d"s commandments over the Jews! I thought to have it buried in my grave along with my arm; but I have found an owner for it.
May it be your servant!"
The General, half laughing, and half touched with emotion, replied:-
"Comrade, if you give up to me your wife and child, you will be left for the rest of your life very solitary and old, a widower and without children! Tell me how I may recompense you for this precious gift, and with what I may sweeten your childless widowhood!"
"Am I Cybulski,"215 answered the Warden mournfully, "who gambled away his wife, playing marriage with the Muscovites, as the song relates?-I am quite content that my penknife will still gleam before the world in such a hand. Only remember, General, to give it a long strap, well let out, for the blade is long; and always hew from the left ear with both hands-then you will cut through from head to belly."
The General took the penknife, but since it was very long and he could not wear it, the servants put it away in an ammunition waggon. As to what became of it there are various tales, but no one knew with certainty, either then or later.
Dombrowski turned to Maciek:-
"What have you to say, comrade? Can it be that you are not glad at our coming? Why are you silent and glum? How can your heart help leaping up when you see the gold and silver eagles, and when the trumpeters trumpet Kosciuszko"s reveille close to your ear? Maciek, I thought that you were more of a fighting man: if you do not seize your sabre and mount your horse, at least you will gaily drink with your colleagues to the health of Napoleon and the hopes of Poland!"
"Ha!" said Maciej, "I have heard and I see what is going on! But, sir, two eagles never nest together! Lords" favour, hetman, rides a piebald steed!216 The Emperor a great hero! On that subject we could expend much talk! I remember that my friends the Pulawskis used to say, as they gazed on Dumouriez,217 that Poland needed a Polish hero, no Frenchman or Italian either, but a Piast,218 a Jan or a Jozef, or a Maciek-that"s all. The army! They say it is Polish! But these _fusileers, sappers, grenadiers_, and _cannoneers!_ You hear, in that crowd, more German than native t.i.tles!219 Who can understand them! And then you must certainly have with you Turks or Tatars or Schismatics, or men of G.o.d knows what faith: I have seen it myself; they are a.s.saulting the peasant women in the villages, plundering the pa.s.sers-by, pillaging the churches! The Emperor is bound for Moscow! That is a long road if he has set out without the blessing of G.o.d. I have heard that he has already incurred the bishop"s curse;220 all this is--"
Here Maciej dipped some bread in his soup, munched it, and did not finish his last phrase.
Maciek"s speech did not suit the taste of the Chamberlain, and the young men began to murmur; the Judge interrupted the wrangling, by announcing the arrival of the third betrothed couple.
It was the Notary; he announced himself as the Notary, but n.o.body recognised him. He had hitherto worn the Polish costume, but now his future wife, Telimena, had forced him by a clause in the marriage articles to renounce the kontusz;221 so the Notary w.i.l.l.y-nilly had a.s.sumed French garb. The dress coat had evidently deprived him of half his soul; he strode along as if he had swallowed a walking-stick, stiffly and straight forward; like a crane, he dared not look to the right or the left. His expression was composed, and yet from his expression one could see that he was in torture; he did not know how to bow or where to put his hands, he, who was so fond of gestures! He tucked his hands into his belt-there was no belt-he only stroked himself self on the stomach; he noticed his mistake, was greatly confused, turned red as a lobster, and hid both his hands in the same pocket of his dress coat. He advanced as if running the gauntlet, amid whispers and banter, feeling as ashamed of his dress coat as of a dishonourable deed; at last he met the eyes of Maciek, and trembled with fright.