Told by the death's head

by Mór Jókai

"Have mercy!—compassion!"

The prince was seated at a separate table, on a black-draped throne-like arm-chair with a canopy.

The mayor occupied the inquisitor's chair.

First question addressed to the accused:

"What is your name?"

"My name, in Podolia, is 'Jaroslav Tergusko;' in Zbarasz it is 'Zdenko Kohaninsky;' in Odessa it is 'Frater Hilarius;' in Hamburg, 'Elias Junker;' in Münster it is 'William Stramm;' in Amsterdam, 'Mynheer Tobias van der Bullen;' in Singapore, 'Maharajah Kong;' on the high seas, 'Captain Rouge;' in The Hague, it is 'Ritter Malchus;' in Lille, 'Chevalier de Mont Olympe;' in Pfalz, 'Doctor Sarepta;' here, I am called 'Hugo von Habernik.'

"Have you any more names?" inquired the chair.

At this question everybody began to laugh—the prince, the judges, the prisoner, even the skull on the table. The chair alone remained grim and dignified.

"I can't remember any more of my names," was the prisoner's reply.