WITOLD GOMBROWICZ
553
ble yet treacherous sound reach the ear of the Chancellor and the ear
of the Council? Did their ears deceive them or did they hear a sound
as if someone to the side ... as if someone to the side ...
jingled ... jingled coins ... jangled coppers in his pocket? What
was it? The severe, cold look of the historic elder moved through
those present and in the end halted upon the figure of one of the am–
bassadors. Not a single muscle twitched on the ambassador's face;
with a barely perceptible expression of irony on his thin lips, this
representative of an enemy power led Princess Bizancia, the
daughter of the Marquise Friulo, to the table .... Yet once more
they heard the traitorous, quiet , and extremely dangerous
sound . . . and the apprehension of betrayal, insignificant base
betrayal, the apprehension of a lurking secret conspiracy crept into
the dramatic and historic soul of the great minister. Was it-a con–
spiracy? Was it-treason?
The second fanfare of trumpets heralded the beginning of the
feast. In response to their overpowering order, Gnulo placed his
vulgar posterior on the very edge of the royal chair. When he had
barely managed to sit down, the entire gathering sat down after him.
Ministers, generals, clergy, and court sat down, sat down, sat down.
The King moved his hand toward his fork, picked it up, raised a
piece of roast meat to his lips and in the same moment the govern–
ment , court, staff of generals, and clergy lifted up pieces of meat to
their lips, and the mirrors repeated this act on into infinity. Gnulo,
in terror, stopped eating-but then the entire gathering stopped
eating, and the act of not eating became even more powerful than
the act of eating.... Gnulo then, in order to interrupt this
noneating as quickly as possible, raised his goblet to his face-and
immediately everyone raised their goblets in a loud toast repeated a
thousand times, a toast that exploded and hung in the air .. . so
that Gnulo put down the goblet as quickly as he could. Yet then they
put down their goblets. The King therefore sipped again from his
goblet. Once more a toast exploded. Gnulo put down the goblet, but
seeing that everyone put down their goblets, lifted his goblet
again-and again the gathering, raising their goblets, magnified the
King's swallowing to the rafters in the roar of trumpets, the radiance
of chandeliers, in the repetition of ancient mirrors . The frightened
King swallowed again .
That traitorous sound-a quiet, barely perceptible jingling, the
characteristic sound of change in one's pocket-again reached the
ears of the Chancellor and the Council. The worthy old man once
