Historical fiction; Hungarian fiction -- Translations into English; Transylvania (Romania) -- History -- Fiction
Apafi looked in the direction of the voice, and fell back in his chair
completely overcome. His brother Stephen was actually standing behind
him.
"You here too?" said Apafi, deeply distressed.
"I was a little late," returned Stephen, "but quite early enough after
all, and I'll venture to remain here till you tell me to go."
"So you have also resolved to plunge into destruction?"
"Brother," said Stephen, "we are in the hands of God; but something has
been put into our own hands also which may have a say in the matter,"
and he touched the hilt of his sword. "Kemeny has lost the affection of
the greater part of the country; why I need not now tell you. Your cause
is righteous, nor do you lack the means of success."
"But if it should turn out otherwise, what would become of my wife? Have
you not seen her?"
"I came straight from her--that is why I came so late."
"What! You have spoken to her? What did she say about my evil case? Was
she not much troubled?"
"Not in the least. On the contrary, she was very glad of it, and said
that Transylvania could not have got a better prince; that you deserved
this honour far more than any of the magnates who practise nothing but
tyranny and extortion, and that she much regretted her illness prevented
her from assisting you with her sympathy and counsel."
"Well, I should have liked it better if the election had fallen upon
her," said Apafi, half in jest and half in anger.
"Take heed to yourself," answered Stephen archly; "the lady is already
so much used to ruling the roost, that we shall live to see her put the
Prince's diadem on her own head, unless you plant it right firmly on
your temples. Nay, brother, don't look so serious; I was but in jest!"
But does not the proverb say that there is many a true word spoken in
jest?
CHAPTER IV.
A BANQUET WITH THE PRINCE OF TRANSYLVANIA.
Meanwhile, his Highness, Prince John Kemeny, was faring sumptuously at
Hermannstadt. This gentleman's darling vice was gluttony--even if the
whole machinery of state were to fall to pieces in consequence, he would
not have risen from table, and amongst all his counsellors his cook
always stood highest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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