Millions are learning their rights to discuss,
And heroes shall rise from the ashes of Huss.'
Song of the Hussites.
ON an August day in the year 1418 the busy streets of old Prague were filled with a motley crowd: knights and squires in festive apparel, on horseback or on foot; students of the University in cap and gown; substantial burghers in gowns of good cloth or coats of curried leather, bareheaded apprentice boys, ragged street urchins, all together thronged the Carlsgasse, which led from the noble Karlbrücke to the Ring. For the Papal Legate, appropriately named Dominic, was to pass that way in his progress from the Hradschin to the Church of St. Stephen, to hear solemn Mass, and to bless the bones of four men who had lost their lives in a street tumult, and were accounted martyrs by the priestly party. But, to judge by the looks, the gestures, the cries of the crowd, the welcome awaiting him was neither reverent nor loving. Yet no one could say it was lacking in warmth—of a certain kind.
‘Ay, so it likes him well,' an honest merchant observed, with a bitter smile—' him and his lord the pope. Blessings for dead bones, curses for living Christians.'
‘Fools they are for that, Master Mercer,' said an archer, who stood beside him. ‘To dead bones, blessings and curses are all one; while living Christians may chance to pay hard curses with harder blows.'
‘How can they,' asked a citizen in a plain dress, 'if they are all burned up first? An' I had my will, I would burn the legate himself for bringing us such tidings, with the pope's bull to light the fire.'
‘No! no!’ cried a student. ‘The pope's bull should be hung round his neck and burned with him, as was done by the martyr of blessed memory, Master Jerome.'
‘Hold there!’ said an older man. ‘Master Jerome did not burn the bearers, only the bull.'
‘True, and I would not burn him,' cried another student. ‘I would set him astride on his own palfrey, with his face to the tail, and a halter round his neck.'
‘For my part,' put in a third, ‘I would duck him in the Moldau, as Master Jerome did the priest who spoke against Master John Huss.'
‘Hush!—here he comes!’ said the first speaker.
Outriders, in handsome liveries of scarlet and gold, cleared the way with their halberds. Behind them came the legate himself, ambling daintily on his showy palfrey, with shoes of silver, and housings stiff with gold and jewels, while a saddlecloth of scarlet embroidered with gold nearly swept the ground.
The cardinal's mantle was of scarlet velvet, adorned with the costliest lace, and clasped with rubies; but his red hat shaded a countenance by no means at ease, or happy in its expression.
As he came in sight, an apprentice boy struck up a song in doggerel German:—
‘Welcome! Welcome! Here they come,
Dogs of Rome, the deaf and dumb!
Though they bark not, they can bite,
They can curse, and burn, and smite.'
‘Beshrew me, but I'll spoil that fine red hat for him! ' cried a student, catching up a stone.
‘Thou shalt do no such thing,' said a squire, in a garboiseau of quilted silk, striking the stone out of the hand of the boy.
The squire was a tall young man of three or four and twenty, with chestnut hair and beard, frank blue eyes, and a handsome, manly face, singularly open in its expression.
‘If it were anyone but you, Bohun—' grumbled the youth. ‘But you do as you list with us all.'
‘Bohun? Bohun, did you say?’ asked a personage in a furred and tippeted gown, with a three-cornered hat and a gold-headed cane. ‘Good Master Bohun,' he continued in rapid French as he turned towards the squire, ‘if you have any bowels of compassion, come with me, I pray you, and save a brother Frenchman, and an old acquaintance, out of the hand of these Bohemian demons.'
‘A Frenchman, and an old acquaintance! Who art thou, and how dost thou know me?’ asked Hubert, looking down at the little physician, unmistakably a Jew, old and wrinkled, with hooked nose, bushy eyebrows, and a very ample forehead. It passed through his mind that he had seen his face before, though he knew not when or how.
‘I'll tell you that, if you like, master, when you have done a good turn for your countryman. Do me the favor to come with me.'
Hubert followed him under one of the colonnades behind the Rathhaus, where there were shops of various kinds. They stopped before a wine-shop, whence were proceeding various discordant noises, shouts and cries, stamping of feet, and clashing of pewter vessels. ‘What, here?’ asked Hubert.
‘Even so. The fool must needs go and drink bad wine, lose his money and his temper, and peril his life among these ruffians.'
Looking through the open door, Hubert beheld a sight that stirred his wrath—a heap of student caps lying on the floor. He strode in hastily. A group of lads, with disordered dresses and flushed faces, were sitting, standing, or lounging round a stool to which a priest, in a torn cassock, seemed to be glued by positive terror. His face was turned from Hubert, his head bent down, and his hands raised as if to shield it; he seemed to cower and shrink into himself before the storm let loose upon him. The riotous youths were mocking, taunting, threatening him to their hearts' content. When Hubert entered, one of them was holding a wine-cup to his lips, and bidding him drink to the confusion of Pope Martin, and Pope Martin's bull, and the health of all good Hussites.
‘Good Hussites!' cried Hubert in indignant scorn. ‘Is that what you dare to call yourselves, you foolish, malapert boys? Shame on you! '
‘Better than thou art! What business is it of thine?’ cried the lad who held the cup, dashing it with its contents at Hubert.
It fell short of him, upon the sanded floor, already stained with similar libations. This did not prevent a dozen angry hands and voices being raised at once against the offender. ‘Fool!’ "Blockhead!" ‘Ass!’ "How dearest thou?" ‘Hast eyes in thy head, prithee?' ‘Dost see it is Master Hubert? '
Evidently, for some reason or reasons, Hubert was a most popular person among the students; the thoughtless but impressible lads, far from resenting his interference, hastened to apologize and to excuse themselves, the chief offender setting the example, and explaining that he had not recognized Master Hubert in the dimly-lighted room. ‘Let him alone,' cried Hubert to the rest. ‘He has not even touched me. But what has this priest done to you that you should use him so?'
A chorus of voices answered: ‘He is the legate's man!’ ‘He has come here with him to slay and burn us!’ "He praises the Council!" ‘He calls Master John a heretic!'
Lastly, with concentrated scorn, from the youth who flung the cup— ‘He is an accursed—Nominalist!’
‘And a great doctor of philosophy art thou!' retorted Hubert, laughing in spite of his wrath. Then he addressed himself to the persecuted priest. ‘I pray you, sir priest, to pardon the insolence of these foolish boys. I will see to it that you receive no further harm if you will allow me to accompany you to your inn. Or, peradventure, you lodge with the legate. Holy saints, it is Charlier!'
For the priest, at the words of courtesy, had turned half round, raised his bowed head, and removed his hands. ‘And you,' he faltered, in much confusion, as he ventured to look up at his deliverer, ‘you—you are the last person from whom I might have looked for kindness. You are Master Hubert Bohun.'
‘At your service,' said Hubert, coming towards him with a smile.
Charlier was greatly embarrassed. ‘If in the past I was—if I said—' he began to falter out.
But Hubert quickly took up the word. ‘We will not talk of that at present,' he said. ‘The matter in hand is to provide for your safety.' Then, turning to the students: ‘Brothers, this French priest, whom you have insulted, is an old acquaintance of mine. I will see to him. As for you, I counsel you, go to your homes at once, and for the future keep out of wine-shops and taverns. You call yourselves good Hussites? '
‘Ay, Master Hubert, and so we are,' cried several voices at once. ‘Ready to die for our faith,' added someone.
‘Those who die for their faith have learned first to live by it,' said Hubert. ‘Good Hussites are not found in wine-shops, drinking and quarreling. They are found in churches and schools and libraries, serving God and minding their books.'
‘Right there, Master Hubert. But prithee do not report us to the rector for this time. Master John Cardinal is not one who thinks the bachelors' sticks were given them for ornament.'
Hubert promised good-naturedly; and then, beckoning Charlier to accompany him, walked out. Charlier explained to him, in a confused, agitated way, that he had come to Prague in the train of the cardinal legate; but there not being room for all in the quarters assigned them in the Hradschin, he had come into the town in search of accommodation.
‘You should have gone to the Kleinseite, where birds of your feather are apt to roost,' said Hubert ‘or at least to the Neustadt. You were not fortunate in trying the Altstadt, where the popular feeling is so strong.'
‘As I soon found to my cost. No one would take me in. At last I was tired out, and turned for refreshment into the wine-shop where I met the treatment you saw.'
‘Who was that physician who asked me to go to your help? '
‘Solito the Jew, who was physician to Pope John; you may have seen him in Constance. He also has come with the cardinal, who picked him up somewhere on his way. He is at no loss for a lodging, having friends in the Jews' quarter. But for myself I know riot what to do. Never saw I a town in such a state.'
‘For the present come with me; my lodging is close by.' Charlier hesitated; he could not forget the enmity he had shown to Hubert in the days gone by; nor could he think it possible that Hubert had forgotten it. But Hubert, with kindly insistence, overbore his reluctance; if he had not forgotten, at least he had thoroughly forgiven. He led his guest to the house of Wenzel the cupmaker, where he lodged, along with Vaclav and Lucaz Leffle. Leffle was out; but Vaclav, now a fine lad of fifteen, happened to be within doors, and seeing that the stranger Hubert brought with him looked tired and hungry, he at once fetched food and wine, and sat them before him.
Whilst Charlier refreshed himself, Hubert answered his inquiries, reserving his own for the present. He told him that he was still in the service of the knight of Chlum, and happy and prosperous. He was his squire, and dwelt with him for the most part in his castle at Pihel, though sometimes at the court, or elsewhere. At present he was with the Panes, and another youth, his companion, at the University, as their parents wished them to abide there for a season, under the especial charge of the rector, Master John, Cardinal of Rheinstein, who was much esteemed for learning and virtue. Charlier laid down his knife, took a parting draft from the deep tankard of light wine beside him, set that down also, and sighed deeply. ‘You did well to leave the chancellor's service, Master Hubert,' he said. ‘Ay, very well.'
Hubert looked at him eagerly. He had been thirsting all along for tidings of the chancellor. ‘It seems you have left him also?’ he said.
‘Left him? No, I was dismissed. That is to say, we were all dismissed. He called us together, ere he left Constance, told us he had no more occasion for our services, and no means of rewarding them, and bade us shift for ourselves.' And you took him at his word!’ said Hubert indignantly. ‘I, at least would have stayed with him to the last.'
Charlier shrugged his shoulders. ‘What would you have?' he asked. ‘We were sorry enough; indeed, there were few dry eyes among us when he bade us farewell. But he said truly he had no means of advancing our interests, or even of maintaining us. He—the great chancellor-left Constance alone, on foot, with a staff in his hand and a pilgrim's wallet on his shoulder.'
Hubert bent his head sadly, and shaded his eyes with his hand. ‘And was this,' he said, ‘the reward of his splendid services to the Church and to the Council?’ It was not until after an interval of mournful silence that he was able to ask: ‘How came it all about, Charlier? '
‘Master Hubert, everything turned against him. You know well that all the foes of Reform in the Council hated him, and so did the faction of the Duke of Burgundy. England and Burgundy always go together, so the English victory of Agincourt has made Burgundy supreme. Since Agincourt, neither Council nor Kaiser dared lift a finger against him, or say an ill word of the doctrines of Jean Petit.'
‘And such were the influences that ruled the deliberations of the infallible Council!’ said Hubert with sad, slow scorn.
‘How bitter must have been the chancellor's disappointment! And the hopes he built upon it of the Reform of the Church—they, too, have been rudely shattered! '
‘They have indeed, Master Hubert. Perhaps you in this far country never heard the particulars of that affair? The question of Reform was very cleverly managed, that I must say; and in the end it was very adroitly shelved. The Kaiser, the English, and some of the Germans were as keen upon it as our chancellor; they talked forever of the corruptions of the Church and the sins of the churchmen. Sermons were preached on it—and before the Council itself—which would have made your hair stand on end with horror. No heretic could have said more, or worse. Everyone agreed there must be a Reform. But the Italians and some of the Germans, and even our own Cardinal of Cambray, laid down the law: "During the schism the Church is a body without a head. It is dead: it cannot act. First let us give it a head; let us elect a pope; and then let him reform the Church.'
Hubert laughed—a bitter, joyless laugh. ‘Let the wolf protect the sheep,' he said.
‘So some were inclined to say,' Charlier answered with surprising candor. ‘But everybody's mouth was stopped—most of them, agreeably enough, by fat benefices. The Bishop of Salisbury, who stood like a rock for Reform, and whom no man could have bought or silenced, very opportunely departed this life. He had been long in failing health; so long, indeed, that it was commonly reported—such folly do men talk sometimes—that he was never the same man since the death of John Huss. There were plenty of bishops not so scrupulous as Robert Hallam. The Archbishop of Riga, for example, got the rich bishopric of Liege.'
‘If he got a hundred bishoprics, he would still be a miserable man,' said Hubert. ‘It was he whose cruelties aggravated the sufferings of our martyrs in prison.'
‘Others, according to their degree, got various gratifications,' pursued Charlier. ‘So his Holiness Pope Martin V. was duly elected, and fine doings we had over it, as all the world knows.'
‘We have heard of them here,' said Hubert. ‘Little joy they brought, or are like to bring to us.'
‘Banquets were magnificent,' Charlier resumed, and Indulgences plentiful; for his holiness is most eminent in the grace of liberality—when it costs him nothing. But as for reforms, we may consider them postponed until the Greek Kalends. Postponed they are assuredly during the pontificate of Martin V. He is in the saddle now; and well he knows the use of bit and bridle. "Humble cardinal, haughty pope," as the saying is.'
‘But all this,' said Hubert, ‘would go near to break the chancellor's heart.'
‘There was much more than this. His enemies, hounded on by the Burgundians, never ceased to thwart and worry him.'
‘I knew he had enemies, and bitter ones,' said Hubert.
‘Naturally. He is the best of men; but as you knew, good Master Hubert, he was somewhat austere and hard, not to say just a little impracticable. He could never understand that churchmen; after all, were men, and their little frailties no such great affair.'
‘There was an angry gleam in Hubert's blue eyes as he answered, He only expected others to be pure and noble, as he was. If they hated him for that, it was as the darkness hates the light. Such hatred could not injure him! '
‘Not much—had it not been for the English victories in France. These it was that ruined him. He has lost everything—place, power, emoluments. If he is still called Chancellor of Paris, it is only by courtesy, for Paris is in English hands. Thus his enemies in the Council were emboldened to redouble their attacks upon him. At last they accused him of heresy.'
‘Hubert almost sprang from his seat. They accused him of heresy?’ he repeated, with incredulous wonder.
‘It is true—amazing indeed, but true. He whom men called the light and soul of the Council, the Council itself turned round upon, arraigned at its bar as a heretic. But what is this, Master Hubert? Your face is full of triumph; you rejoice, you exult in it! I would not have thought it of you. I thought you loved him.'
‘God knows if I love him,' said Hubert with emotion. ‘And yet I say, thank God!’
‘For the humiliation of your benefactor? '
‘For his glory. For the honor the Lord Christ has put upon him, in giving him to drink of His cup.'
‘I know not what you mean,' said the bewildered Charlier. ‘I cannot understand you.'
‘What fault could they possibly find in him? '
‘Certain articles were drawn up against him, the particulars of which I mind not now. Most of them related to the power of the pope. One I do remember, because he did indeed utter the words ascribed to him, and in my presence. "I would rather," quoth he, "have Turks and Pagans for my judges than the Commissioners of the Council." Another, also true enough, as I think, purports that he said John Huss would not have been condemned if he had had proper advocates.'
‘Ah' said Hubert, drawing a long deep breath of satisfaction. ‘What was his answer, Charlier? '
‘To that article? I know not. To the whole series, this is what he answered: "Notwithstanding that I possess ample means to reply to calumny, I should think it shame for me, who am but dust and ashes, if, like Jesus Christ, the Master of us all, I did not pass over the personal insults directed against me, to occupy myself with those relating to the Faith. I shall let the Holy Council judge for itself which is truth and which falsehood. To take the trouble of refuting all that is false, to give bite for bite, is a brutal, frivolous, insane struggle, unworthy of Christian gravity."'
‘A noble answer!’ said Hubert, touched to the heart. ‘John Huss could not have spoken more nobly.'
‘You think to honor the chancellor by comparing him to a convicted heretic!’ said Charlier. ‘About that man your infatuation, and that of these Bohemians, passes belief. All the world wonders at it. Even you Jew is scandalized thereat. Do you know what he says blasphemously? So the first Christians reverenced our Lord; and then, by degrees, they began to worship Him.'
‘A Jew who was physician to Balthazar Cossa had no need to come to Bohemia to be scandalized,' said Hubert. ‘But the Chancellor, Charlier? He was acquitted, of course? '
‘He was acquitted; for his enemies meant insult, not injury. Still, the insult stung him to the quick. Yet I think his disappointment with the Great Council was worse than any personal pang. I think that, for himself, he could have gone to the very stake rejoicing, had the Holy Council only fulfilled his dream, and accomplished all he expected from it. But, Master Hubert, I have beheld the anguish of his soul—I have heard him say, " I have seen with my own eyes what the prophet Isaiah said, Judgment is turned away backward, and Justice standeth afar off, for truth is fallen in the street, and equity cannot enter. Yea, truth faileth, and he that departeth from evil maketh himself a prey; and the Lord saw it, and it displeased Him that there was no judgment.'
‘No wonder his great heart is broken,' Hubert said. ‘But,' he added, as if to himself, "He healeth the broken in heart." ‘After a pause he asked, Whither went he when the Council ended? Back to France? '
‘Not so; the France of England and Burgundy is no place for him. The Duke of Austria, who respects him greatly, hath offered him hospitality in Vienna; and thither he is gone, as I told you, on foot, in the guise of a pilgrim.'
‘Would he had come here instead! '
‘Art mad, Master Hubert? Your "Hussites" would tear him in pieces.'
‘God forbid! We tear no man in pieces, Master Charlier, not even your legate, who brings us so black a message.'
‘You speak fairly, Master Hubert, but your companions breathe fire and slaughter. What mean these angry cries that greet us everywhere, these threats and insults? '
‘They mean this, Master Charlier, that the nation's heart is roused. Can you wonder? The Council began with that great crime of which all the world has heard. It added to its iniquities the cruel murder of a second innocent man, only for defending the memory of his friend. "I stand here," said Jerome at the stake—and before God he spoke the truth—"I stand here only because I would not approve the counsel and deed of those who put John Huss to death!" And,' added Hubert, ‘its next step was the citation of a great number of Bohemians, all of them distinguished men, many of them learned doctors and teachers in the University.'
‘Not one of them appeared,' said Charlier. ‘Was not that a proof of their guilt? '
`Rather,' said Hubert, of their common sense. ‘With such samples before their eyes of the entertainment provided for them, was it any wonder the Bohemians declined to come to the feast? The Council finally—and to pass over other insults, such as the letter sent here by the blood-stained hands of the Bishop of Lytomissel—hath responded by the Act, or Decree, which you know. And now the new pope sends us his bull, affirming and confirming the same.'
‘As is meet and right,' said Charlier. ‘In this matter Council and pope are at one.'
‘Well say you, "in this matter,"' said Hubert bitterly. ‘Let the Council ask the pope to restrain his avarice, his luxury, his simony, and they might as well speak to the winds of heaven. Let them ask him to kindle fagots for innocent men; then indeed he is "servant of the servants" —I will not dare to say "of God." '
‘Master Hubert, you are unjust.'
‘Am I, Charlier? Do you know the meaning of the message you and your lord the cardinal legate have brought to Bohemia? '
‘Of course—generally speaking. The papal bull has for its object "the suppression of heresy." '
‘“Suppression" is a fair-sounding word, but of evil import. In this bull all the people of Bohemia, from the barons in their castles and the doctors in the Carolinum down to the 'prentice lads and serving maidens, are commanded to renounce the Communion of the Cup, the free preaching of the Word of God, the supremacy of the Holy Scriptures, and, in general, the teaching of Huss and Wickliffe. More, they are called on to affirm that Huss was a heretic, justly put to death. Rather than do this last, thousands and tens of thousands would die.'
‘It is like their constancy, or their obstinacy, may be proved,' said Charlier.
‘It is certain, if pope and Council can work their will. Decree and bull are abundantly plain on that point. Every man, woman, or child who will not renounce or affirm as they ordain, must be delivered over to the secular arm. That means-burning alive.'
‘Well?’ said Charlier quietly. ‘The thing was a thing of course; what was there for anyone to say?
‘Well?’ echoed Hubert, as he rose and stood by the window, looking down at Charlier. ‘If you think of it, it is horrible. Suppose yourself in like case. Suppose they bade you declare the chancellor a villain, stained with all the crimes of Balthazar Cossa—or die tomorrow in the fire? '
‘But he was not guilty of one of them.'
‘Is that your logic? No; nor was John Huss a heretic.'
‘But the pope and the Holy Council—'
‘Charlier,' interrupted Hubert, speaking with deep earnestness from the very depths of his heart— ‘Charlier, we cannot believe as they bid us. It is impossible. Some of us now and then may say that we so believe, for it is no light and easy thing for shrinking flesh to dare the anguish of the death of fire. If you doubt of it, put your finger in the candle lighted for your need to-night.'
‘All the greater reason for submission,' said Charlier, though rather hesitatingly.
‘What?’ cried Hubert, with kindling eyes. ‘The greater reason for falsehood, for denying that which we know to be the truth? Have you never read the Vulgate—"We ought to obey God rather than man"—or the saying of those who "changed the king's decree and gave their bodies to be burned?" "Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us, but if not—" Ay, Charlier, mark that "if not." That is the word of power. The men who dare to say it will change the world. Men will be burned; women, too, belike—such things have been done ere now. But you cannot burn a nation. Sooner or later, men will fight for their lives.'
‘And take up arms against their lawful sovereign?’ threw in Charlier.
‘Their sovereign may side with them—I know not. But suppose, though it is scarce possible that all that multitude lay down their lives in silence, or with prayers on their lips for their murderers—like Master John—still they have kinsfolk, they have friends. Men have fathers, brothers, sons; women all these, and lovers and husbands too. If someone you loved were taken before your eyes— No, I cannot think of it, cannot utter it, even for the sake of argument.' His manly cheek flushed and paled again, and he turned his face away. At last he went on brokenly, ‘But you are a priest—you cannot understand. However, there are things which may not be endured by living men. God hath set bounds to the anguish human hearts can bear, as He hath set bounds to the sea that it may not pass. Perhaps—if He gave me grace—I might die for Him myself; but I should be a poor and desolate man this day if His world did not hold a few whom I would fight to save until the sword clave to my hand and I had no more power to lift it. And then I would lay my body on the ground between them and aught that would come to harm them.'
Charlier was awed by his vehemence. He shrank, as it were, into himself. ‘Yet you showed me kindness,' he said. 'You rebuked the rudeness of the students.'
‘Why not? Are you to blame for all this? Even if you were—you shall see we shall not harm a hair of the legate's head. We desire to harm no man. We would be peaceful, law-abiding.'
‘Yet I have heard of tumults and bloodshed in this good town of Prague.'
‘Yes; such as used to be, and no doubt are still in Paris. There are hot heads everywhere; and the youths of the University are nearly—not quite—so wild and reckless as those of the Sorbonne. But our chiefs, whom we look to as our leaders, repress disorder and violence as far as they can.'
Here their eager colloquy was interrupted by a knocking at the door. ‘Come in,' said Hubert. A man of respectable appearance, fully armed, but looking weary and travel-stained, entered the room, ‘Vitus!’ exclaimed Hubert in astonishment. ‘God save thee, good friend. But why in Heaven's name art thou here? Is there aught amiss at Pihel?'
‘Ah, Master Hubert, would I could say No to that. But in truth I bring heavy tidings '—he stopped and hesitated. But it was not hard to guess them, for it was well known now that the health of the lady of the castle was failing.
Hubert, therefore, was much more sorrow-stricken than surprised when Vitus continued: ‘Every day the dear Pani grows weaker. Not that there has been any great or sudden change, but she herself has asked her lord to send for you. So I have come to bid you return at once with the young gentlemen, whom she desires greatly to see. It was her own word that they should all come without fail; our Panec̆, and Panec̆ Lucaz, and—she herself bade me tell you expressly—young Ostrodek.'
‘Alas!’ thought Hubert, ‘where am I to find him?' For Ostrodek, during a temporary absence from Pihel, had fallen in with a band of zealots of extreme opinions and warlike propensities, and had joined them in an attack upon a monastery, in which some of their friends were imprisoned. Since then he had either continued with them or had been in hiding; and all the efforts Hubert made to trace him during his stay in Prague had proved fruitless.’ He said to Vitus, 'I fear that last is impossible. But I pray thee, good Vitus, eat and drink, for thou dost need it sorely. Meanwhile, I will summon our Panel; and the other, and we will get to horse as quickly as we may. Ah! woe is me for the dear Pani!' ‘Nay, not for her, Master Hubert, but for our dear lord. And, indeed, for us all.'
A thought came to Hubert on the instant. ‘Catching at a straw of hope, as we are all apt to do in like case, he turned to Charlier. Knowest thou where that Jew physician may be found?’ he asked him. He remembered that in Constance the skill of Solito was highly esteemed, not only by those about the pope, but also at the court of Queen Barbe.
Charlier, who was really grateful for the undeserved and unexpected kindness he had received, said at once and cordially, ‘Happily, I can tell you that. I heard him say this morning, as we passed the shop of a seller of drugs in Green Street, that the owner was a friend of his, and he was to dine with him. If I knew the way I would fetch him to you willingly. The name of his host was, was— But who could ever hope to remember these barbarous Bohemian names? Stay! it was something like Smyrna, which is spoken of in the Vulgate.'
‘Smyrksic̆?' said Hubert. ‘I know the man, and will send thither at once. It is close by. As for yourself, I will speak to Wenzel the cupmaker, who is our host here, and he will send with you one of his apprentices to find you safe quarters.'
Then all was haste and hurry. The Jew was soon found; and, what was more, he was easily persuaded to come to Pihel. In fact, he had only consented to accompany the legate because he wished to visit friends of his own race in Prague. He knew the legate's stay would be very short, and he had no desire to bring his own to an end as quickly. He was therefore not sorry to shake himself loose from him by retiring into the country until after his departure. For the wrath and disappointment of the legate he cared nothing at all. He thought the patronage of a powerful Bohemian baron, such as he supposed Hubert's lord to be, would be far more likely to advance his interests. He might even through him obtain an introduction to the King of Bohemia, whose health was greatly shaken by his life of excess, and who might therefore welcome and reward the services of a skilful physician. So he went willingly with Hubert Bohun.
Vaclav, his boyish heart full of a great deep sorrow, Lucaz Leffle, Vitus, and the other attendants, made up the party. Ostrodek could not be found.