in that all eyes were fixed on him at that moment. But the jester looked on one noble and then on another; at last lip said, "None of you gentlemen can guess who that is?"
When silence was the only answer, he turned with the most insolent mien to the voevoda: "And thou, dost thou too not know of what rascal the speech is? Dost thou not know? Then pay me a ducat."
"Here!" said the voevoda.
"God reward thee. But tell me, Krysh, hast thou not perchance tried to get the vice-chancellorship after Radzeyovski?"
"No time for jests," replied Opalinski; and removing his cap to all present: "With the forehead, gentlemen! I must go to the council of war."
"To the family council thou didst wish to say, Krysh," added Ostrojka; "for there all thy relatives will hold council how to be off." Then he turned to the nobles and imitating the voevoda in his bows, he added, "And to you, gentlemen, that's the play."
Both withdrew; but they had barely gone a few steps when an immense outburst of laughter struck the ears of the voevoda, and thundered long before it was drowned in the general noise of the camp.
The council of war was held in fact, and the voevoda of Poznan presided. That was a strange council! Those very dignitaries took part in it who knew nothing of war; for the magnates of Great Poland did not and could not follow the example of those "kinglets" of Lithuania or the Ukraine who lived in continual fire like salamanders.
In Lithuania or the Ukraine whoever was a voevoda or a chancellor was a leader whose armor pressed out on his body red stripes which never left it, whose youth was spent in the steppes or the forests on the eastern border, in ambushes, battles, struggles, pursuits, in camp or in tabors. In Great Poland at this time dignitaries were in office who, though they had marched in times of necessity with the general militia, had never held positions of command in time of war. Profound peace had put to sleep the military courage of the descendants of those warriors, before whom in former days the iron legions of the Knights of the Cross were unable to stand, and turned them into civilians, scholars, and writers. Now the stern school of Sweden was teaching them what they had forgotten.
The dignitaries assembled in council looked at one an-
