"Get out of my sight. Never let me see you again. In three days you must leave Transylvania, or else I'll send you out, and you won't thank me for that."
"May I humbly ask what I am to do if your Excellency withdraws your favour from me?" whined the fellow.
"You may do as you like. Go to Szathmár and become the lacquey of Baron Kopp, or the scribe of Master Kászonyi. I'm just going to write to them. I'll mention your name in my letter, and you can take it."
"And if they won't accept me?"
"Then you must tack on to someone else, anyhow you shan't starve. Only get out of my sight as quickly as possible."
The "magister" withdrew in fear and trembling, wiping his eyes with his pocket-handkerchief.
"Sir," said Nalaczi, when they were alone together, "this violence does harm."
"The only way with such fellows is to bully them whatever they do, for they are deceivers and traitors at heart, and would otherwise do you mischief. Kick and beat them, chivy them from pillar to post, and make them feel how wretched their lot is, if you don't want them to play off their tricks upon you."
"I don't see it in that light. This irritability will do you no good."
"On the contrary it keeps me up. If I had not always given vent to my feelings I should have been lying on a sick-bed long ago. Take these few thalers, go after that good-for-nothing, and tell him that I am very angry with him, and therefore he must try in future to deserve my confidence better, in which case I shall not forget him. Tell him to wait in the gate for the letter I am about to write, and when once he has it in his hand let him get out of Transylvania as speedily as he can. Remind him that I don't yet know about what happened in the square at Klausenberg, and if I did know I would have him flogged out of the realm; so let him look sharp about it."