The History of Sigismund, Prince of Poland. Oscar Mandel
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Название: The History of Sigismund, Prince of Poland
Автор: Oscar Mandel
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Мифы. Легенды. Эпос
isbn: 9781938849237
isbn:
“Yes I am, sir whip. Crazy. Crazy about Prince Astolof! Yes, it’s him, it’s him! That knocks you down, don’t it?”
Indeed. Like a cannonball. A circle of open mouths. Agafya exulted, and she repeated, “Yes, it’s him, it ain’t no follower, it’s him!”
Sigismund was the first to recover, so to speak, from this coup de théâtre. “I believe you!” he cried. “Compel the tsarevich to marry you! And after that, come back and unshackle me!”
The Master of Peasant Discipline had another whisper for the baron’s ear: “A bullet through her head, because the girl is going to provoke a scandal in Cracow.”
“True,” grumbled Klotalski, but the idea of a scandal in Cracow had a quite contrary effect on him, an effect that would have dumbfounded the Master had he guessed what was going round in his chief’s head.
In the meantime, the loquacious Agafya chortled. “Yes, let him marry me, but I’ll see to it that he gives me at least a rich boyar to patch up my honor. Oh, when I think of it! My blood boils. Not a flower he gives me. Not a pair of earrings. After three months. Four months. ‘How dare you, trollop!’ is what he flings at me next time I catched him riding his horse across the fields. ‘You’ve been dreaming, my lass! Your lover he put powders and stuff in your wine, and you thought you’d slept with a prince.’ Well! It’s him that will think he’s dreaming when he catches sight of me in Cracow!”
Her words delighted Sigismund. “Go, my beauty, and jump at him while he’s courting the heiress.”
Klotalski said nothing, because the crafty lord of Zakopane was dreaming too.
“Silence!” he said at last. “Listen, Agafya Matveyevna Kulkova, “there seems to be a bit of truth in the story you’ve told us. Enough, at any rate, for me to take you along with me to Cracow, where it so happens that I need to go. And if you behave, I might even present you to the king.”
Agafya could not thank the baron enough, and Sigismund, rather surprised, congratulated him. “For once a semblance of justice,” he said.
The Master of Peasant Discipline thought that his chief had gone mad. More so when Klotalski returned the prisoner’s knife to her.
“Is that a purse hanging from your belt?” he asked.
“Yes, my lord.
“Full of golden ducats?”
Agafya burst out laughing. “I wish! But never mind. I’ve got kopecks enough in it to keep from starving to death. Besides, where I’m coming from, we’re used to not eating much.”
This didn’t keep Klotalski from slipping the girl a fine gold coin. “With this you can rent lodgings and buy diapers for the tsarevich’s little heir, if the need happens to arise.”
Agafya had a sense of humor. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I like to joke too,” and the coin went diving into her purse.
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