of equal strength ready to meet him; but let me tell you, that that same host will never be so foolhardy as to invade a foreign land." [Footnote 50: Cardinal Peter Pázmán (1570-1637), a famous Hungarian patriot and statesman.] [Footnote 51: The celebrated Nicholas Esterhazy of Galanta, Palatine of Hungary.] [Footnote 52: Lobkovich (Eusebius Vincent), Leopold I.'s prime minister (1670-73), who attempted to make the Emperor absolute in Hungary.] [Footnote 53: Louis the Great, King of Hungary, 1342-1381.] "Then Hungary is to you a foreign land?" cried a mocking voice from the crowd. This interruption was too much for Banfi's composure. He turned furiously towards the quarter whence the question came, and meeting the cold, contemptuous looks of the Hungarians assembled there, he quite forgot himself; everything around him seemed to be in a whirl, and dashing his kalpag to the ground, he cried-- "Right, right--indeed! A foreign land--nay more, a stepmother you have always been to us. We have always had to suffer for your sins. We have won victories, and you have frittered away the fruits of our victories. Your discords have thrice brought Hungary low, and thrice have we raised her from the dust. We have given you heroes; you have given us traitors!" These last words Banfi was obliged to roar out at the top of his voice to make himself heard above the ever-increasing din. The uproar was general. Every one tried to shout down his neighbour. The Hungarian gentlemen sprang from their seats and reviled Banfi. The graver members of the peace party shook their heads when they saw how Banfi's indiscretion had let loose the passions of the Assembly. Beldi now arose. All lovers of order cried at once--"Let us hear Beldi!" Then a young man suddenly leaped over the barrier, and placing his hand on Teleki's arm-chair, planted himself in front of Banfi with a flushed and defiant face. It was Emerich Tököli. "I too have got a word to say," cried he, in a voice audible above the tumult. "I also have the right to say a word or two within this barrier. If you will deny your mother, Hungary, and draw boundaries between her and you, it is time for me to speak. I am just as good a territorial noble here in Transylvania as that proud and petty demigod, whose father before him was just such another reviler of his mother country!" Beldi was making his way towards Tököli to stop him from speaking, when some one from behind seized his hand, and turning round, he was astonished to see his own son-in-law, Paul Wesselenyi, who begged him to step outside for a moment. Beldi retired into the lobby, while Tököli's voice thundered through the hall above the never-ending din. A veiled lady awaited Beldi in the lobby, whom, when she had unveiled her face, he had some difficulty in recognizing as his daughter Sophia, so much had grief and care changed and broken her. Her beautiful eyes were red with weeping.