“Worthy sword-bearer,” said the prince, with seriousness, “you have condemned me of crookedness toward the country; but I, as a true citizen, ask you, have I a right to sacrifice public affairs to my private interests?”
Pan Tomash listened. “What will happen then?”
“Think to yourself what must happen.”
“As God is true, I see already that the marriage must be deferred; and the proverb says; ‘What is deferred, escapes.’”
“I will not change my heart, for I have fallen in love for life. You must know that for faithfulness I could put to shame the most enduring Penelope.”
Billevich was alarmed still more; for he had an entirely opposite opinion touching the prince’s constancy, confirmed as it was by Boguslav’s general reputation. But the prince added, as if for a finishing stroke,—
“You are right, that no one is sure of his to-morrow. I may fall ill; nay, some kind of sickness is coming on me even now, for yesterday I grew so rigid that Sakovich barely saved me. I may fall in a campaign against Sapyeha; and what delays, what troubles and vexations there will be, could not be written on an ox-hide.”
“By the wounds of God, give advice, your highness.”
“What advice can I give?” asked the prince. “Though I should be glad myself to have the latch fall as soon as possible.”
“Well, let it fall. Marry, and then what will be, will be.”