"As for myself," he proceeded to say, "if I recover from this sickness, I am determined to become a monk in the Monastery of Slatina, where I may repent for the rest of the days that it pleases God to leave me. Therefore, I beseech you, Fathers, when you see me at the point of death to shave me like a monk----"
He was not able to say much more. He was seized with convulsions, and a terrible coma like death itself stiffened his body, so that the Metropolitan and the Bishops, believing him to be expiring, canonized him, bestowing upon him the name of Paisie after that of Peter, which name he had borne previous to becoming Prince. After this they paid homage to the Princess Rucsanda as regent during the minority of her son, and proclaimed Bogdan king.
Immediately after they sent envoys to all the boyars within the country and to the exiles, and to the captains of the army.
The twilight was approaching when Stroici and Spancioc arrived.
Dismounting at an inn, they approached the castle with haste. The town was silent and dreary like some gigantic tomb. Only the murmuring waters of the Dniester were audible as they continually washed the slopes of the grey bare banks, and the monotonous cry of the sentries who examined each other by the evening light along the length of their lances. Pursuing their way into the palace, they experienced no small surprise at meeting no one; at last a lacquey showed them the sick man's room. As they were about to enter they heard a loud noise, and paused to listen.
Lapushneanu was rousing from his lethargy. Upon opening his eyes he saw two monks standing, the one at his head, and the other at his feet, motionless, like two statues of bronze; he glanced at himself, and found himself clothed in the habit of a monk; round his head was a cowl. He tried to raise his hand, but was prevented by the strings of a rosary. It seemed to him as though he dreamed, and he closed his eyes again; but opening them once more after a little while he saw the same things, the rosary, the cowl, the monks.
"How are you feeling now, Brother Paisie?" one of the monks asked him, seeing that he was not sleeping.
This name brought back to his mind all that had taken place. His blood began to boil and half raising himself he cried:
"What are these? Ah, you are making fun of me! Avaunt, foul creatures! Go, or I will murder you all!"
He sought a weapon with his hand, but finding nothing but the cowl he flung it with his hand at the head of one of the monks.
At the sound of his shouting, the Princess, with her son, the Metropolitan, the boyars and servants, all entered the room.
Meanwhile the other two boyars arrived and stood by the door listening.
"Ah, you wanted to turn me into a monk," cried Lapushneanu in a raucous and terrible voice. "You thought to get rid of me? But you can dismiss that idea! God or the devil will make me well again, and----"
"Unhappy man, do not blaspheme," said the Metropolitan, cutting him short. "Do not forget you are in the hour of death! Reflect, sinful man, that you are a monk, you are no longer Ruler! Reflect that such ravings and yells are frightening this innocent woman, and this child in whom rests the hope of Moldavia."
"Infernal hypocrite!" added the sick man, endeavouring to rise from his bed. "Hold your tongue; it was I who made you Metropolitan, and I unfrock you. You tried to make me a priest but I will put that right. There are many I will make into priests. But as for that bitch, I will cut her into four pieces with her pup so that they may never again listen to the advice of hypocrites or to my enemies. He lies who says I am a monk. I am no monk--I am Ruler. I am Alexandru Voda! Help! Help! Where are my soldiers? Fetch them! Fetch them all! I will command them. Kill all these people. Let none escape. Ah! I am choking! Water! Water! Water!" And he fell back exhausted, gasping with excitement and fury.
The Princess and the Metropolitan retired. At the door they came face to face with Stroici and Spancioc.
"Madam," said Spancioc, seizing Rucsanda's hand, "that man must die at all costs. See this powder, pour it into his drink."
"Poison," she cried with a shudder.
"Poison!" pursued Spancioc. "Unless this man dies at once, the lives of your Highness and your son are in danger. The father has lived long enough and done enough. Let the father die that the son may live."
A servant came out of the room.
"What is it?" asked the Princess.
"The sick man has roused and asks for water and his son. He bade me not to return without him."
"Oh, they wish to kill him," groaned the wretched mother, pressing her son passionately to her breast.
"There is not time for hesitation, Madam," added Spancioc. "Think of the wife of Voda Shtefanitza and choose between father and son."
"What say you, Father?" said the poor woman, turning towards the Metropolitan, with her eyes full of tears.
"This man is cruel and fierce, my daughter; may the Lord God give you counsel. As for me, I go to prepare for our departure with our new Ruler; for our late Prince, may God pardon him, and also forgive you."
With these words the holy Teofan departed.
Rucsanda took a silver cup full of water, which was handed to her by the servant, and then, amid the entreaties and arguments of the boyars, poured the poison into it. The boyars pushed her into the sick man's room.
"What is he doing?" asked Spancioc of Stroici, who pushed open the door again and looked in.
"He asks for his son--he says he wishes him to come to him--he asks for a drink--the Princess trembles--she gives him the cup--he will not take it!"
Spancioc starts and draws his dagger from his belt.
"But yes, he takes it, he drinks. May it do your Highness good!"
Rucsanda emerged shaking and livid, and supporting herself against the wall.
"You must render account before God," she said, sighing, "for you have caused me to commit this sin."
The Metropolitan arrived.
"Let us go," he said to the Princess.
"But who will tend to this wretched man?"
"We will," replied the boyars.
"Oh, Father, what have you made me do!" said the Princess to the Metropolitan, and she went sobbing with him.
The two boyars went into the sick man. The poison had not yet begun to do its work. Lapushneanu lay stretched out, his face uppermost, calm but very weak. When the two boyars entered, he looked at them for some time, but not recognizing them he asked who they were, and what they had to say.
"I am Stroici," replied one.
"And I am Spancioc," added the other, "and our wish is to see you before you die as we promised you."
"Oh, my enemies!" sighed Alexandru.
"I am Spancioc," continued that person, "Spancioc whom you would fain have beheaded when you murdered the forty-seven boyars, and who escaped from your clutches! Spancioc, whose property you have destroyed leaving his wife and children to beg for alms at the doors of Christian houses."
"Ah, I feel as though a fire burnt me!" cried the sick man, grasping his stomach with both hands.
"To-day we free ourselves, for you must die. The poison works."
"Oh, you have poisoned me, infamous creatures! Oh, what a fire! Where is the Princess? Where is my son?"
"They have gone away and left you to us."
"They have gone away and left me! Have left me to you! Oh, kill me and let me escape from suffering. Oh, stab me, you are still young, have pity, free me from the agony that rends me, stab me!" he said, and turned towards Stroici.
"I will not desecrate my noble dagger with the blood of such a worthless tyrant as you."