"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 ambassadors," 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 smashing 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 God cannot be wretched," said Veveritza. "Am not I, too, the Anointed of God? 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.