"Yes, it was."
"Exactly; it was your pride that suffered. I do not count pride among the more deadly sins, although I know that Petrus Lombardus elevated this opinion into the rank of a dogma. We Protestants are content with the definition of John the Evangelist, who saith that every falsehood is a deadly sin. Yet pride is not falsehood, but the true image of every man. It is the very eye of his soul. Moreover, as a philosopher, you must know very well that whoever attaches himself to a master must make submission his business. A colonel is a big man; but when the general speaks it is for the colonel to listen; and if the general says to him, 'Go through fire,' or, 'Go through water,' he must submit and obey. If a man who has been born poor would drink and make merry, he must first renounce his pride. When you wanted to choose a career, I left you a fine choice. You had only to please yourself. You might have become a clergyman, like myself, in the usual way. True, we cook with water and do not throw away our crusts, and when we wear out our clothes we turn them, and so wear them again; but, on the other hand, the clergyman always sits in the front seat, and gives place to no son of man, unless it be the Son of God. But this haughty poverty seemingly is not to your liking. You say to yourself, 'Dat Galerius opes, dat Justinianus honores.' Well, you have got what you sought. Wealth, a life of comfort is in your hands. Galerius has given them to you. He who wants to wear a bedizened hat must be prepared to doff it right and left—to high and low. I need take off my capillum to no man. Why do you oscillate like a pendulum? A man must make his own position. If you don't like subjection, turn back, go to Göttingen, go through a whole course of theology—then come here, be my curate, and then perhaps in ten years' time you may get a living somewhere. But if you want to live in splendour and comfort, go back to the carriage, and sit on the back seat face to face with your lord and master, for that is your proper place."
Heinrich, very red in the face, went back to the slowly lumbering carriage, and again took his place in it opposite his youthful comrade. And thus they went to the town together, and right into the castle.
CHAPTER IV
THE CDT-TABLE AND THE CHALLENGING GLOVES
The coming home of young Squire Casimir was celebrated with great solemnity at the palace of the Starosta. The thunder of the mortars, the roll of the drums, the blare of the trumpets, announced to the thronging crowd the moment when the parade carriage rolled over the drawbridge. In front of the gate stood a guard of honour of the assembled heydukes, under the command of the Castellan. The Starosta himself had come as far as the hall door to welcome his son.
Casimir, according to ancient custom, received his father's greeting on bended knee, and kissed his uplifted hand, whereupon the old man, thrusting his powerful palm into his son's well-thatched poll, lugged him to his feet by his hair, and, slapping his face gently at the same time, said: "Come, come, you have put on a mighty fine fleece since last I saw you." But immediately afterwards he kissed him on both cheeks, and the kiss obliterated the slap.
Heinrich got neither kisses nor slaps, he simply didn't count at all.
A hundred guests were in the large hall, all of them prominent noblemen and priests, and all of them embraced the young gentleman in turn, while Heinrich they only patted on the shoulder, and while every one said: "Vitam pana!"[16] to the nobleman's son, they only greeted the son of the pastor with: "Badz zdrow!"[17]
[16] "Long live your honour!"
[17] "Good health to you!"