Roumanian Stories Part 7

Wis.h.i.+ng to thank G.o.d that I had escaped with my life, I started to raise my right hand to my head.

The lady quickly seized my hand and pulling it down, drew me with all her strength into her arms.

I can still see that room. What a bed! What curtains! What walls! What a ceiling! All white as milk. And the lamp-shade, and all those crochet things of every kind and shape! And the warmth, like being under a hen's wing, and a smell of apples and quinces!

I should have stayed a long time at Manjoala's Inn if my father-in-law, Pocovnicu Iordache, G.o.d forgive him, had not fetched me away by force. Three times I fled from him before the marriage, and returned to the inn, until the old man, who at all cost wanted me for a son-in-law, set men to catch me and take me gagged to a little monastery in the mountains. Forty days of fasting, genuflexions and prayers. I left it quite repentant. I got engaged and I married.

Only lately, one clear winter's night, while my father-in-law and I were sitting talking together, as is the custom of the country, in front of a flagon of wine, we heard from a prefect, who arrived from the town where he had been making some purchases, that during the day there had been a big fire at Haculeshti. Manjoala's Inn had been burnt to the ground, burying poor Mistress Marghioala, who thus met her end under a gigantic funeral pyre.

"And so at the last the sorceress was thrown on the bonfire!" said my father-in-law, laughing.

And I began to tell the above story for at least the hundredth time. Pocovnicu maintained, among other things, that the lady put a charm into the lining of my cap, and that the kid and the cat were one and the same.

"May be," I said.

"She was the devil, listen to me."

"She may have been," I replied, "but if that is so, then the devil, it seems, leads to the good."

"At first it seems to be good, to catch one, but later one sees where it leads one."

"How do you know all this?"

"That's not your business," replied the old man, "that's another story!"

ALEXANDRU LAPUSHNEANU

1564-1569

By C. NEGRUZZI

Jacob Eraclid, surnamed the "Despot," perished by the hand of Shtefan Tomsha, who then proceeded to govern the land, but Alexandru Lapushneanu, after two successive defeats at the hands of the tyrant's forces, fled to Constantinople, succeeded in securing aid from the Turkish army, and returned to drive out the rapacious Tomsha, and seize for himself the throne which he never would have lost had the boyars not betrayed him. He entered Moldavia accompanied by seven thousand spahees and three thousand mixed troops. He also brought with him imperial orders for Han Tatar Nogai to collect some troops with which to come to his aid.

Lapushneanu rode with Vornic Bogdan by his side, both were mounted upon Turkish stallions, and were armed from head to foot.

"What think you, Bogdan," he said after a short pause, "shall we succeed?"

"How can your Highness doubt it," replied the courtier, "the country groans under the harshness of Tomsha. The whole army will surrender when you promise them higher pay. Those boyars who are still left alive are only held back by fear of death, but when they see that your Highness comes with force they will at once flock to you, and desert the other."

"Please G.o.d we shall not be obliged to do what Voda Mircea did in Muntenia; but as I have told you, I know our boyars, for I have lived among them."

"This matter must be left to your Highness's sagacity."

Thus speaking they drew near to Tecuci where they halted by a wood.

"Sire," said a messenger approaching, "some boyars have arrived, and crave an audience of your Highness."

"Let them come," replied Alexandru.

Four boyars soon entered the tent, where he was sitting surrounded by his boyars and officers; two of them were elderly men but the other two were young. They were Vornic Motzoc, Postelnic Veveritza, Spancioc, the n.o.ble, and Stroici. They approached Voda Alexandru, and bowed to the ground, but without kissing the hem of his garment as was the custom.

"Welcome, boyars!" said Alexandru, forcing himself to smile.

"Good health to your Highness," replied the boyars.

"I have heard," pursued Alexandru, "of the affliction of the land, and I have come to deliver it; I know the country awaits me with joy."

"Do not imagine that it is so, your Highness," said Motzoc. "The country is quiet; it may be your Highness has heard things that are not really facts, it being the habit of our people to make stallions out of mosquitoes. For this reason the community has sent us to tell you that the people do not want you, no one loves you, and your Highness has only to turn back----"

"You may not want me, I want you," replied Lapushneanu, and his eyes flashed like lightning. "You may not love me, I will love you, and will come among you with your consent or without it. I turn back? Sooner may the Danube change its course! Ah! The country does not want me? Do I understand that you do not want me?"

"One dare not behead amba.s.sadors," said Spancioc. "We are bound to tell you the truth. The boyars have decided to take their way to Hungary, to Poland, and to Muntenia, where they all have relations and friends. They will come with foreign armies, and woe betide the poor country when we have war between us, and maybe your Highness will not do well because Shtefan Tomsha----"

"Tomsha! Has he taught you to speak with such temerity? I know not what prevents me from smas.h.i.+ng the teeth in your jaw with this club,"

he said, seizing the weapon from Bogdan's hand. "Has that wretched Tomsha taught you?"

"He who is worthy to be named the Anointed of G.o.d cannot be wretched,"

said Veveritza.

"Am not I, too, the Anointed of G.o.d? Did you not swear fealty to me when I was only Petre Stolnic? Did you not choose me? What was my reign like! What blood have I shed? Whom have I turned from my door without due reward and help? And yet you do not want me, do not love me? Ha, ha, ha!"

He laughed; a laugh that distorted the muscles of his face, and his eyes blinked incessantly.

"With your Highness's permission," said Stroici, "we see that our country will once more be under the heel of the heretics. When these hordes of Turks have robbed and devastated the land, over whom will your Highness reign?"

"And with what will you satisfy the greed of these heretics, whom your Highness has brought with you?" added Spancioc.

"With your possessions, not with the money of the peasants whom you fleece. You milk the country dry, but now the time has come when I will milk you dry. Enough, boyars! Return and tell him who sent you to be on his guard lest I catch him, if he would not have me make flutes out of his bones, and cases for my drums out of his skin."

The boyars retired sadly; Motzoc remained.

"Why do you stay?" asked Lapushneanu.

"Sire! Sire!" said Motzoc, falling on his knees. "Reward us not after our iniquities! Remember this is your native land, remember the scriptural admonition to forgive your enemies! Have pity on the poor land. Sire! dismiss these pagan armies; come with only a few Moldavians with you, and we will guarantee that not a hair of your Highness's head shall be touched; and if you need armies we will arm our women and our children, we will raise the country, we will call up our retainers and our neighbours. Trust yourself to us!"

"Trust myself to you?" said Lapushneanu, comprehending his plan. "Perchance you think I do not know the Moldavian proverb: 'The wolf may change his skin, but never his habits'? Perchance I do not know you, you especially? Do I not know that when my army was outnumbered, when you saw that I was defeated, you abandoned me? Veveritza is an old enemy of mine, but he has never concealed the fact; Spancioc is still young, his heart is full of love for his country; it pleases me to see his pride which he does not attempt to conceal. Stroici is a child, who does not understand men yet, and does not know the meaning of flattery, or a lie; to him it seems that all birds that fly are fit to eat. But you, Motzoc, seasoned veteran of hard times, accustomed to fawn on every ruler, you have sold the Despot; you have sold me too, and will now sell Tomsha; tell me, should I not be an arch fool to put my trust in you? Still, I pardon you for daring to think that you could cheat me, and I promise you my sword shall not stain itself with your blood; I will spare you, for you are useful to me and will help to bear my blame. The others are all drones, and the hive must be freed from them."

Motzoc kissed his hand, like the dog which, instead of biting, licks the hand that beats him. He was grateful for the promise given him. He knew that Voda Alexandru would have need of an intriguer like himself. The deputies had been commanded by Tomsha, in the event of their being unable to turn Lapushneanu from his path, to take the road to Constantinople, where by means of pet.i.tions and bribes they were to try and compa.s.s his overthrow. But seeing that he came with the good will of the Porte itself, and, moreover, fearing to return without any success to Tomsha, he begged leave to remain in his company. This was Motzoc's plan that he might himself adhere to Lapushneanu. Leave was granted him.