‘Sobieski had one of the greatest gifts ever vouchsafed to a commander--the faculty of inspiring confidence in his troops. The Polish cavalry which came to the rescue of Vienna had no doubt a most martial look; they were mounted on the handsomest horses, and their arms were magnificent. This was by no means the case with the infantry; one regiment in particular was in such a sorry plight that Prince Lubomirski advised their crossing the Danube at night, for the sake of the nation’s honour. Sobieski simply smiled. “As you see them,” he said, “they are invincible: they have sworn not to change their clothes except for those taken from the enemy. In the last war they only wore the Turkish uniform.” Sobieski’s remark did not, perhaps, provide his soldiers with clothes; it did better than that: it ran from mouth to mouth, and the regiment performed deeds of unsurpassed valour. You are aware that after that brilliant feat of arms which was the signal for the relief of Vienna, they applied to the Polish hero the words of Pius V. with regard to Don Juan of Austria, after the battle of Lepanto: “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.” What an admirable quotation!’ wound up the prince. ‘Austria had no doubt forgotten the application of that sentence of gratitude when, later on, she effaced from the rank of European nations the country of her deliverers!’ I remarked. ‘Go and remind her of it, and see what you’ll get for your pains. Furthermore, you must expect her to answer in the way of a set-off to the advocates of Poland: “You take care to remind us of your saving Vienna in 1683. We are certainly very grateful to you, but each time you mention it, we are bound to tell you that Austria delivered you out of the hand of Sweden, which had conquered you in the reign of Charles-Gustavus; hence, we are quits.”’ ‘To this, prince, Poland could reply both in virtue of priority of age and of the number of her services, that the aid she lent to Austria, notably to her founder, Rudolph of Hapsburg, largely contributed to place Austria among the most powerful monarchies of Europe. Be that as it may, in this iniquitous proceeding, Austria plays the part of the dog in La Fontaine’s fable, who carries his master’s dinner round his neck: she interfered in order to take her share of the spoil; it would have been more noble to prevent the spoliation.’ By that time it was three o’clock, and we partook, in a small room adjoining the library, of the provisions which we had brought with us in the prince’s carriage. It was one of the most delightful collations I remember. The prince was fond of telling stories; his way of narrating them was so delightful and admirable that I was only too pleased to listen. This added to his own enjoyment, and his well-stored memory poured out tale after tale without the slightest effort.