I fell to my knees. But they instantly ceased their shouting, whereupon the Counsellor put it into the Minutes. Speaks further His Excellency the Envoy: “With this thought did I summon you here, Gentlemen, for a Conference with Pan Gombrowicz to counsel what to do and how; viz. not only with Geniuses, Thinkers, and extraordinary Authors is our Nation glorious, surpassing Glorious, but also with Heroes: so, whilst over there, in our Country, Heroism is extraordinary today, let people over here see how a Pole can stand up! ’Tis likewise the duty of the Legation to strike whilst the iron is hot, and to the divers and sundry our Heroism shew since our Heroism will conquer the enemy, that Heroism, that unbeatable, unconquerable Heroism of our Heroes with fear will fill the infernal forces, the which before that Heroism of ours will tremble and withdraw!” (Thereupon they sprang up, viz. first the Minister, second the Colonel, third the Counsellor and shout: “Hero, hero, Heroism, heroism!”)
I fell to my knees. But spake the Minister: “’Tis why after the Duel—God grant it fortune—I will honour Pan Kobrzycki, the Major, with a sumptuous repast in the Legation, to the which likewise Foreigners I will invite; and indeed we will conquer the Infernal Forces!” This speech of His Excellency the Envoy the Counsellor straightway put into the Minutes and, upon finishing his inscription, being overwhelmed with fervour, he cried: “Splendid Thought, Your Excellency, Your Grace, splendid thought!”
The Colonel exclaimed: “Nonpareil Your Grace’s thought!”
Speaks then the Minister: “Belike ’tis Not Badly Thought.” At which they cried “Splendid, magnificent Thought! …” and instantly into the Minutes put. Having put it, the Counsel lor, again overwhelmed with fervour, cried: “Not till hell freezes over will that Enemy of ours conquer our strength, our Courage, and indeed in the whole world there is no such Courage as ours! Your Excellency, and wherefore at the Duel itself should His Excellency the Envoy not be present? Ergo, I propose that not only to the Repast but also to the Duel the Foreigners be bidden: let them see how a Pole with a pistol at an Enemy, let them see that!” Cried then the Minister together with the Colonel: “Let them see! Let them see!” I fell to my knees.
Yet His Excellency the Envoy, having shouted into the Minutes, grimaced, flashed, and lowering his voice said aside to the Counsellor: “Oh bumpkin, bumpkin is Pan Bumpkin, how can you bid to the Duel, for a Duel is not a Hunt. Oh, a silly thing has been said; and how to extricate since it is already in the Minutes?” The Counsellor reddened, glanced at the Minister with the eye of a basilisk but says, yet softly, aside: “Possibly erase?” Says the Envoy: “How can you erase, these are the Minutes!” Thereupon they paled; and all three of them look at the Minutes, the which on the table. I fell to my knees. Thereupon they cogitate how to Extricate, untangle.
At length the Colonel said: “A folly, and unneedfully Slipped out: but I have a means to contrive it all as it should be. ’Tis true, Your Worship, that you cannot be present at the Duel and likewise lead Guests to it for rightly Your Worship says that a Duel is not a Hunt… But indeed, a Hunt with greyhounds for a Quarry could be arranged and to it Foreigners invited … and so whilst the Duel is in progress we nearby as if after Hares will pass; and in guise of a Hunt Your Worship can point out the Duel to the foreigners and likewise an appropriate oration on that Honour, Dignity, Courage of ours give.” Says the Minister: “Fear God, how are we a Hunt with greyhounds to arrange if there are no Greyhounds or Horses?!” To him replied the Counsellor: “Greyhounds may be found at the Baron’s and as for Horses, they too may be procured from the Baron’s manège—he has quite a few Nags there!”
Says the Colonel: “Indeed, at the Baron’s not only horses, dogs but also Whips, Boots, Spurs can be found. We could ride in a Cavalcade of twenty or thirty horses. Ergo, Your Worship, this or that, port or transport, for the Minutes are waiting …”
Thereupon as if on Fire they jump. But the Minister called out: “I’ faith, you are mad but there are no Hares, no Hares! Are you Mad? How make you a hunt for Hares if here is a great city and not a single Hare to be found, even with a candle!”
Murmured the Counsellor: “The knot is that there are no hares.” I fell to my knees. Says the Colonel: “’Tis true that there’s not a Hare to be had e’en for the taking. But, Your Worship, the Minutes, the Minutes—we needs must somewhat extricate—the Minutes, the Minutes …”
Thereupon as Madmen about the Minutes they carry on. I fell to my knees. But exclaimed the Minister: “Oh God, God, how to arrange a Hunt for Hares, and with greyhounds, whilst there is war, war!” Exclaimed the Counsellor: “The Minutes!” The Colonel: “The Minutes!” But cried His Excellency the Envoy: “God, God, but how for Hares with no Hares?!” They shout then: “The Minutes!” Ergo, Head to Head: What choice on’t; they cogitate, cogitate, they moan, they moan (and now the Minutes prick, urge, prick) so in the end exclaims the Envoy pale as a Corpse: “Sh.t, sh.t. The Devil take it. Let’s do then, let’s do if there is no other way … but how am I to arrange a Cavalcade for hares if there are no hares! And something is not as it should be and out of this flour will come no bread!” I fell to my knees.
Thus it stood that horses, Dogs from the Baron they would take, and so with greyhounds on leads in a Cavalcade, with Ladies, nigh the Duelling Ground they would ride as if naught, as if by Chance after a Hare they did ride. Then having shewn the Duel to their Excellencies the Ladies and bidden Foreigners, to them likewise Manliness, Honour, Fight they would shew and alike the unmeasurable Valour, Heartfelt Blood, Abiding Dignity, holy Faith Unconquerable, holy Might the Highest, and the holy Miracle of the whole Nation. I fell to my knees. Having so resolved and into the Minutes put, the Envoy called the Conference adjourned and with their noses out of joint (for what they felt they had brewed for themselves) all cried “Splendour, splendour, glory, glory”: viz. first the Envoy, second the Colonel, third the Counsellor. I, having fallen to my knees, anon hastily made off.
Only in the street did I give vent to my tempest of feelings. And the Devil, the Devil, the Devil, Devil take it, lookye, now they have a hankering for a Hero, they have contrived a Hero! But I needs must go to the Conference, the which with the Baron, Pyckal and Dr. Garcia had been fixed to arrange conditions of the meeting. Nothing Good did I expect from that Conference since it was already obvious that we sink in, ever the more sink in, till we are Sunk.
Indeed, my presentiment did not mislead me.
The Conference was fixed in the garden of one of the cafés by the river (since hot) but Amazement, Astonishment of mine: the Baron and Pyckal on large, dark bay Stallions approach. Says the Baron: “We have been exercising the Stallions a bit and so came hence.” Yet not for the purpose of Exercising did they come on the Stallions but perchance being witnesses for a Cow, they did tremble lest they be taken for Cows, Mares. Soon thereafter Dr. Garcia’s Subordinate arrived with news that his Principal in the registrar’s office must needs sign a Conveyance and, most deeply for this absence of his apologizing, him, the subordinate, Dr. Garcia sends to take part in the Council. No remedy.
Ergo the Council we commenced; and under a tree two Stallions. I would have given I know not what to arrange all that quickly, quietly and as smoothly as can be, but how, since the Baron, Pyckal have changed beyond recognition, viz. swallowed Sticks and speak very little but exceeding polite, puffed up, Blown up, they Bow on and on. Ergo Say I: “Till the first blood and fifty paces.” Say they: “This cannot be, must be till the third blood and thirty paces.”
Thus they, being afear’d of Mare, desire this Duel (God forgive, empty, with no bullets) most severe, the toughest to make; and there Stallions of theirs stand under a tree. Ergo, they puff up, Blow up, Wheeze and (although with no bullets the Duel) call for blood.
Besides something Betwixt Themselves they mutter, betwixt themselves Begin. Since with me or with the Subordinate they dared not begin … and Betwixt Themselves more daring they did have and, as their Stallions are of no use on us, they use them betwixt themselves, betw
ixt themselves Harshly indeed one about the other mutters, one at the other gibes. Splinters, Rancours old, older, they recall: now a Mill, now a Dyke, so they look askance, mutter, viz. mutters the Baron, mutters Pyckal, they mutter, Mutter, “Oh, I would shove in your chops!” “Oh, I would bash your bones!”; and the Baron took out of his pocket a Fingernail big, old, broken off.
Howbeit, they could not jangle betwixt themselves for with me that Council, ergo whilst speaking to me, they poke speech at each other. Viz. says the Baron: “I am not a Base-born Boor but a High-born Sir and everything here not Boorishly, out of Boorishness by a pig’s snout, but Sir-ishly, out of Sir-ishness in a Four-horse, since in sooth I am a Sir, not a Boor, and my late Mother did not milk Cows nor did she for the need behind a Barn.” Says Pyckal: “Who’s the Base-born Boor and who’s the High-born Sir! … I, if so Inclined, begging your pardon, Breeches in the daytime right here in front of people will drop and Do, and in front of people since naught they can do to me; indeed a Jaw I will smash, smash …”
Such Talk! But the Cashes they had given me grate on me … and what to do with these Cashes I know not … for how to return them when the Council is begun? Unfathomable then the Intention: viz. against Gonzalo or Tomasz the cozenage, and likewise unfathomable whether we as People of honour are discussing the conditions of a duel, or contriving a Plot. And if a Plot, then ’tis unfathomable against Whom, and whether we defend Tomasz or for Monies, for that Mammon, mean, oh Sweet, Nice, we wish to contrive everything smoothly for Gonzalo. In this doubt the Baron wished not thirty but five and twenty paces; for the more the Duel smells of fraud, the more Severe they wish to have it, and on all Severity greatly they insist. The Subordinate likewise, lookye, a Blockhead, a Dutchman or perchance a Swiss, a Belgian or a Rumanian, understood naught of affairs of Honour and made a motion that both parties should give a Surety as a Guarantee that they would stand in place, the which Surety was to be certified by a Notary. So everything Haltingly, trudgingly, and the Duel ever the more severe although without a bullet.
Yet over there, over the water, bullets whirr. ’Tis so. If not for all that beyond the Forest, the Waters, I would not this Anxiousness have, but indeed with the sign of that Carnage, bloodsome, not only to me but to everyone ’tis Burdensome, bothersome, and everyone wonders whether something of that will not fall on his head and how not to go too far.
So ’tis. Instead of sitting hush-hush at so dangerous a time of ours, we here this Duel arrange and so whilst there Bullets, here likewise a Bullet (albeit without a bullet). Oh Jesus Maria! Oh dear, dear! And wherefore this? And what for this? And how this? And why this? And what End will this have? Oh Christ, Merciful Christ, burdensome, burdensome, burdensome! … Yet no remedy. What to do if there is naught else to do, and only this very Duel ahead as the sole target of our every doing. And therefore albeit, lookye, Dim and very little to be spied, but indeed as in a wood, viz. when someone lost, from the distance a large Stone or Hillock amongst trees marks and goes towards that Hillock to have at least some Target for that going of his. And they are a-going too, every one from divers directions, their own ways.
Thus a-going his was Tomasz, and his Task Severe, Blood-some. With a shot of his a Cow he would fain kill, a Bull to bring out; a Bull he was calling up with his shot a Cow to ram, the which was defaming his only Son … Oh Bull, Bull, Bull! A-going hers was Gonzala furtively skirting by the bushes, sneaking, and now she as a Weasel after the Boy sniffs, scampers, and from Tomasz into the emptiness of that Duel, empty, escapes.
Likewise a-riding theirs, oh a-riding, are the Baron, Pyckal on their Stallions but still they mutter, glance at each other with an angry eye, of their own Intention unsure. Likewise His Excellency the Minister with the Counsellor is proceeding, proceeding on, in their Cavalcade across a Glade, across a Plain, under willows, behind Pines, Conifers, and with Ladies! Wood Dark! Woods vast, aged! Woodland. Oh, Merciful God, oh Christ Gentle, Just, oh Most Holy Mother, and I too am a-going, a-going and a-Going, and this Going of Mine on the track of my life, in that Sweat and swink of mine up the Mountain, in that Thicket of mine. Ergo, I’m going and going and Going and then upon that Target of mine know not even what I will Do, yet Something I needs must Do. Oh wherefore do I Go? Yet I Go, I Go since others too are Going and so we mutually lead ourselves as Sheep, Calves to that Duel, and void the Plans, void the Designs and Resolutions when a man, impelled by others, to others as in a dark Wood is lost. Thus you Go but you Stray, and you resolve, plan but you Stray, and seemingly according to your will you contrive but you Stray, Stray, and you speak, Do but in a Wood, at Night, you stray, stray …
But when with such thoughts along the streets I Go, the noxious clamour of newscriers “Polonia, Polonia” not even for a moment ceases, indeed ’tis ever the more loud, ever the more violent … and perchance something’s amiss… ’tis nigh so as if there nigh not so. Although, lookye, dark, nigh naught can be discerned, viz. as in a mist by the water at dusk… Yet somewhat I see that somewhat Amiss and perchance is Cracking, Bursting, Scarce draws breath. Thus I go along the streets, go, gazettes do buy, till I happen upon the Legation’s edifice and see that the windows of His Excellency the Envoy are lit. The Sinfulness of those intents of mine, affairs of mine, and the dimness, vagueness of that feeling of mine were the cause that I with dread at this house of that Patria of mine, holy, oh perchance Cursed, did look; however, when the shadow of the Envoy’s person on a white curtain I discerned, I could no longer restrain that vexing curiosity of mine: and this I must know, viz. how is’t there? what’s there? what is the Truth and how can it be that we go at Berlin when in the outstreets of Warsaw they do battle? Ergo, with no regard for the late-night hour, the doorstep of Patria’s edifice I did cross and by stairs to the first floor betook myself. Mine oath was such that from that man the truth I needs must tear. Thus I go, and Empty, quiet, Quiet. That tread of mine amongst columns vanished and perished, and from the salon the subdued tread of the Envoy could be heard and his bent shadow on the door panes to this or that side moved. I go, on and on, and on. At the door I knocked and for a long time no one said aught, and steps quietened. Ergo I did knock again, whereupon called out the Envoy:
“Who’s there? What’s there? Who’s there?” I entered. By the window he stood; seeing me called out, “Why do you enter Unannounced?”
From the window to the fireside he went and his hands into his pockets put. But anon says he: “Well, no matter, come in since in any case I would speak to you.”
He sat in a chair but rose and now to me: “Ah, Pan Gombrowicz,” this and that, roundabouting, skirting, between fences, flashes and flashes, and in the end says: “By God’s Mercy, speak what of that Gonzalo they say, apparently he there … so … in such a way a ‘Madama’ with Men, what?” And to the other side of the room he went, there in a chair he sits, then Rises and at his fingernails picks. I think to myself, wherefore goes he thus, Sits, rises thus, wherefore picks thus, but I speak:
“They say it, they say it, but there is no proof and the challenge he accepted.”
“Attend you then lest there be an embarrassment since a Cavalcade we are making and invitations already dispatched! The Cavalcade we are making, although war and no Hares! ’Tis maddening! And this is not a cabaret but a Legation!”
He cried in a thunderous voice. “A Legation,” he cries, “a Legation.” Methinks, wherefore cries he thus. But by the console table he stands and methinks: how comes he to Stand thus? Then methinks: but how come I to Think upon it that he cries, sits, rises—since when has his crying, sitting, rising become odd to me? And even exceeding Odd; and moreover somewhat Empty as an empty bottle or a Gourd. I look, I watch and I see that in him all is exceeding Empty so that Fear overwhelmed me and methinks, wherefore so Empty, perchance I had better to my knees fall? …
Ergo I do fall to my knees, but naught. He halted. A few steps he paced. Again he halts, and stands.
I kneel but that Kneeling of mine exceeding Empty.
He stands, but that standing of his likewise empty.
“Rise,” he muttered, but that speaking of his Empty. Kneel I ever, but that kneeling of mine Empty. To a settee he went and sat, as if a Gourd or a Puff.
Whereupon I comprehended the Devil had already taken it all. That ’tis Finished and the War Lost. And he not-a-Minister.
From the kneeling, ergo, from the knees I arise … and did stand up. I stand. He too stands.
Thereupon speak I: “So now perchance there will not be that Cavalcade?”
He wheezed and at me flashed: “There will not be,” he says, “a Cavalcade? But why would there not be?”
Whereupon speak I: “Then a Cavalcade there will be?”
Speaks he: “Why would there not be? But ’tis so resolved that there must be.”
Thereupon say I: “Oh, then there will be?”
Speaks he: “I am not a weathercock,” and cries, “I am not a weathercock,” and says, “For what do you take me? I am an envoy, a Minister …” but cries anon: “I am an Envoy! A Minister! …” and thus utters: “You chitsh.t, I’m not a chitsh.t; I am here the government’s, the Country’s representative!” And now he continued shouting and with no pause as if possessed: “I’m the Envoy, I the Government, here the Legation, I’m the Minister, I the Country, I’m the Envoy, the Minister, I the Government, Legation, Country, and a Cavalcade there will be, will be ’cause the Country, ’cause the Government, ’cause the Legation, and I the Envoy, Envoy, and the Government, and the Country, and at Berlin, at Berlin, to Berlin, to Berlin!” He rushes then to the wall, to the window, thence to the Cabinet and shouts, shouts unto the Heavens that the Country, the Government, the Legation, that he an Envoy, and continues shouting that he an Envoy … Yet that shouting of his empty, and I the Legation’s edifice left.