Roumanian Stories, Translated from the Original Roumanian
General
Roumanian Stories, Translated from the Original Roumanian
Romania -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, Romanian -- Translations into English
In a second, all the servants behind the boyars drew their daggers
and struck them; other soldiers under the captain of mercenaries
entered and slashed at them with their swords. In the meanwhile
Lapushneanu took Motzoc by the hand and drew him to the open window
whence to watch the butchery which began. He laughed; but Motzoc,
forcing himself to laugh, felt the hair rising upon his head,
and his teeth chattering. And, in truth, it was horrible to watch
that bloody scene. The fancy must picture a hall 33 ft. long and
30 ft. wide, a hundred and more desperate men, determined to kill,
executioners and victims, some fighting with the fury of despair,
others with drunken rage. The boyars had had no suspicions, thus
treacherously attacked from behind, and unarmed, they fell unable to
defend themselves. The older men died making the sign of the cross; but
many of the younger ones defended themselves with desperation; chairs,
plates, the implements upon the table became weapons in their hands;
some of the wounded gripped with fury the throats of the assassins,
and in spite of the injuries they received they squeezed them till
they suffocated. If one among them found a sword he sold his life
dearly. Many a mercenary perished, but finally not a boyar remained
alive. Forty-seven corpses lay upon the floor! In the struggle and
turmoil the table was overturned; the jars were broken and the wine
mixed with blood made a pool upon the boards of the hall.
Simultaneously with the murder upstairs began the massacre in the
courtyard.
The boyars' servants, finding themselves set upon without warning by
the soldiers, tried to flee. Only a few escaped with their lives; they
succeeded in scaling the walls and gave the alarm in the boyars' homes:
they called out others of the boyars' retainers and men, and roused
the populace. The whole city flocked to the gates of the courtyard,
which they began to destroy with axes. The soldiers, stupid with drink,
made little resistance. The crowd grew stronger and stronger.
Lapushneanu, when he recognized the strength of the crowd, sent an
esquire to inquire what they wished. The esquire went out.
"Well, Vornic Motzoc," he said, turning towards that person, "tell me,
have I not done well to rid myself of this rabble, to free the land
from this sore?"
"Your Highness has acted with great wisdom," replied the obsequious
courtier; "I have long had it in my mind to advise your Highness
to do this, but I see your Highness's sagacity has anticipated me,
and you have done well to destroy; because--why--it was----"
"I see the esquire tarries," said Lapushneanu, cutting short Motzoc,
who was becoming involved in his speech. "I think we will give orders
to fire a round into the mob. Ha! what think you?"
"Certainly, certainly, let us turn the guns on them; there is not
much loss in a few hundred churls dying when so many boyars have
perished. Yes, let us destroy them root and branch."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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