The famous Nie pozwolim! ("I will not have it!") had certainly never so often swayed the wills of the kings of Poland as had the gentle "I should so like it" the will of the Viceroy.
And when time and opportunity were ripe, and the necessary strength had been attained, the whole nation rose in its might—five months after the flight of the French king, Charles X.
One night the Polish youths broke open the gates of Belvedere and pressed, armed to a man, to the Grand Duke's bedchamber. But first they had to break into Johanna's room.
She started from sleep as the dagger was already pointed at her heart.
"Keep silence! Not a sound!"
"What!" she cried, "a Pole turning assassin! Infamous!" And, springing from the other side of her bed, she rushed into her husband's room, not even feeling the dagger-thrust in her back. Hastily bolting the tapestried door through which she had passed, she flew to the heavily sleeping Viceroy.
"Wake! we are surprised!"
"What! Assassins?" exclaimed the Viceroy, seizing his weapons.
"Not assassins," returned his wife, proudly concealing her indignation, "but heroes of liberty! The Polish people have risen against you. Fly!"
"What! The Polish people risen? And you, a daughter of Poland, not siding with your own people? You protecting me? Is it a miracle?"