"Arise, I am not God!" said Béldi, turning from his tearful colleagues.
The Grand Vizier, on understanding what it was all about, leaped furiously from his place, and tearing off his turban, hurled it in uncontrollable rage to the ground, exclaiming with foaming mouth: "Hither, cavasses!"
"Put that accursed dog in chains!" he screeched, pointing with bloodshot eyes at Béldi, who quietly permitted them to load him with fetters weighing half-a-hundredweight each, which the army of slaves always had in readiness.
"Wouldst thou speak, puppy of a giaour?" cried the Vizier, when he was already chained.
"What I have said I stand to," solemnly replied the patriot, raising his chained hand to Heaven. "God is my refuge."
"To the dungeon with him!" yelled Kara Mustafa, beckoning to the drabants to drag Béldi away.
Just as a hard stone emits sparks when it is struck, so Béldi turned suddenly upon the Vizier and said, shaking his chains, "Thine hour will also strike!"
Then he suffered them to lead him away to prison.
Immediately afterwards, the Grand Vizier sent for the envoys of the Prince, and commending them and those who sent them, gave each of them a new caftan, and with the most gracious assurances sent them back to their native land, where nevertheless Master Farkas Bethlen had never been accounted a very great orator.