Tomsha, not finding himself in a position to offer resistance, fled into Valahia, and Lapushneanu found no obstacle in his path. The people round met him with joy and hope, reminding themselves of his first reign, during which he had not had time to develop his odious character.
But the boyars trembled. They had two great reasons to be anxious: they knew that the people hated them, and the monarch did not love them.
Immediately upon his arrival Lapushneanu gave orders that all the Moldavian towns, except Hotin, should be piled high with wood and burnt, wishing thus to destroy the refuge of the discontented, who many times, under the protection of their walls, hatched plots and attempted rebellion. In order to undermine the influence of the boyars, and to root out the feudal communities, he despoiled them of their estates under every kind of pretext; in this way he deprived them of their only means of reducing and corrupting the populace.
But not deeming this plan sufficient he put persons to death from time to time. For the smallest official mistake, upon the utterance of the slightest complaint, the head of the culprit was spiked upon the gates of the churchyard, with a placard setting forth his fault, real or imaginary; the rotting head was only removed to make room for another.
No one dared to speak against him, much less plot. A numerous guard of mercenaries, Albanians, Serbs, Hungarians, driven out on account of their misdeeds, found shelter with Alexandru, who bribed them with high pay; the Moldavian army, under captains who were his own creatures, he kept on the frontiers, he gave the soldiers leave to go to their own homes, retaining only a small number.
One day he was walking alone in the saloon of the royal palace. He had had a long talk with Motzoc, who was in great favour, and who had departed after devising a scheme for some fresh tax. He seemed restless, he talked to himself, and was evidently meditating another death or some fresh persecution when a side door opened, and admitted the Princess Rucsanda.
At the death of her parent, the good Petru Raresh, who--says the chronicle--was buried amidst much lamentation and mourning in the sacred Monastery of Probota, erected by himself, Rucsanda remained, at a tender age, under the guardianship of her two elder brothers, Iliash and Shtefan: Iliash, succeeding his father upon the throne, after a short and stormy reign, retired to Constantinople where he embraced Mohammedanism, and Shtefan took his place upon the throne. This man was more cruel than his brother; he began by compelling all strangers and Catholics to renounce their religion, and many rich families settled in the country went into exile on this account, giving as a pretext the poverty of the land and the decline in trade. The boyars, many of whom were related by marriage to the Poles and Hungarians, took offence, and entering into communication with the exiled boyars decided that Shtefan should perish. Perhaps they would have delayed to put this plan into execution if his excesses had not hastened it on. "No woman was safe from his lust if she were fair," says the chronicler in his nave fashion. One day when he was at Tzutzora, instead of waiting for the arrival of the exiled boyars, the boyars who were with him cut the ropes of the tent under which he was seated, in order to prevent his escape, and rushing upon him murdered him.
After this Rucsanda alone remained of the family of Petru Raresh, and the murderous boyars decided to give her as wife to one of their number called Jolde, whom they had chosen to be their ruler. But Lapushneanu, chosen by the exiled boyars, met Jolde, whom he defeated, and seizing him he cut off his nose, and turned him into a monk; in order to win the hearts of the people, who still kept a lively recollection of Raresh, he married, and took to himself Raresh's daughter. Thus the gentle Rucsanda found herself the partner of the conqueror.
When she entered the hall she was clothed with all the magnificence due to the wife, daughter and sister of a king.
Above a long garment of cloth of gold, open in front, she wore a tight coat of blue velvet trimmed with sable, and with long sleeves falling back; she wore a girdle of gold which fastened with big clasps of jasper surrounded by precious stones; round her neck hung a necklace of many rows of pearls. A cap of sable, placed rather on one side, was ornamented with a white aigrette studded with jewels and held in place by a big emerald flower. Her hair, according to the fashion of the day, was parted and hung in braids over her back and shoulders. Her face was of that beauty which once made famous the Roumanian women, but which is rarely found to-day, for it has degenerated through the mingling of foreign blood. She was also sad and languishing, like a flower exposed unshaded to the burning heat of the sun. She had seen her father die, had witnessed the abdication and withdrawal of one brother and the murder of another. She had first of all been destined by the community to be the wife of Jolde--whom she did not know--then she was forced by that same community, who disposed without question of her heart, to give her hand to Alexandru Voda whom she honoured and obeyed as her husband, and whom she would have been ready to love had she found in him the least trace of human feeling. Drawing near, she bent and kissed his hand. Lapushneanu took her by the waist, and lifting her as though she were a feather placed her upon his knee.
"What tidings, my fair lady?" he said, kissing her on the brow. "For what reason have you to-day, which is not a feast day, deserted your spinning-wheel? What has roused you so early?"
"The tears the widowed women shed at my door, and which cry to the Lord Christ and the Holy Virgin for vengeance for all the blood you shed."
Lapushneanu's face grew dark, and he unclasped his hands; Rucsanda fell at his feet.
"Oh, good my Lord! my brave husband!" she continued. "It is enough! You have spilt so much blood, made so many widows, so many orphans. Consider that your Highness is all powerful, and that a few poor boyars cannot harm you. What does your Highness lack? You are not at war with anyone; the land is quiet and submissive. I--God knows how much I love you! Your Highness's children are fair and young. Reflect that after life comes death, and that your Highness is mortal and must give account of his deeds, for blood is not redeemed by building monasteries; especially is it tempting and insulting God to deem that you can propitiate him by erecting churches and----"
"Thoughtless woman!" cried Lapushneanu, jumping to his feet, and from force of habit he put his hand to the dagger at his belt; but instantly controlling himself, he bent forward, and raising Rucsanda from the floor he said: "My wife, do not let such foolish words escape your lips, for God only knows what might happen. Be thankful to the great saint and martyr, Dimitric Isvoritor, of blessed memory, to whose honour we dedicate the church which we have built at Pangaratzi, that he has hindered us from committing a great sin, and caused us to remember that you are the mother of our children."
"Even though I know you will murder me I cannot keep silence. Yesterday when I wished to come in, a woman with five children threw herself in front of my carriage and stopped me to show me a head fastened to the courtyard gate. 'You will have to answer for it, Madam,'
she said to me, 'if you allow your husband to behead our fathers, husbands and brothers. See, Madam, that is my husband, the father of these children who are left orphans! Look well.' And she showed me the gory head, and the head looked terribly at me! Ah, Sire, since then I see that head incessantly, and I am afraid! I cannot rest!"
"What will you?" asked Lapushneanu, smiling.
"I will that you spill no more blood, that you cease to kill, that I may see no more decapitated heads which make my heart break."
"I promise you that after the day after to-morrow you will see no more," replied Alexandru Voda, "and to-morrow I will give you a remedy for fear."
"What? What does that mean?"
"To-morrow you will see. Now, sweet lady, go and see your children, and attend to your house like a good mistress, and see to the preparations for a feast, for to-morrow I give a great dinner to the boyars."
The Princess Rucsanda departed after once more kissing his hand. Her husband accompanied her to the door.
"Ah, have you arranged everything?" he asked, moving quickly towards his esquire who entered at that moment.
"Everything is ready."
"But will they come?"
"They will come."
At eventide came the news that on the next day, being Sunday, all the boyars were to assemble at the Metropolitan Church, where the Prince would be present to attend the Liturgy, and afterwards were to feast at the court.
Upon the arrival of Alexandru Voda divine service began; the boyars were all assembled. Contrary to his usual custom, Lapushneanu was dressed with regal splendour that day. He wore the crown of the Paleologs; over his long Polish tunic of crimson velvet, he wore a Turkish royal cloak. He carried no weapon except a small dagger, inlaid with gold; but between the fastenings of the tunic could be seen a shirt of mail.
After listening to divine service he descended from his stall, prostrated himself before the Icon, and approaching the shrine of St. John the New, bent forward with great humility and kissed the sacred relics. It is said that at that moment his face was very yellow, and that the saintly shrine shook.
Then once more ascending his stall, he turned to the boyars and said:
"Most noble boyars! From the time I assumed kingship until this day, I have shown myself harsh towards many: I have been cruel, severe, shedding much blood. Only God knows how hard this has been for me, and how I regret it, but you, boyars, know that I have only been constrained thereto by the desire to end the various quarrels and disputes which aimed at the disturbance of the country and my destruction. To-day the state of affairs is different. The boyars have come to their senses; they have realized that the flock cannot exist without a shepherd as the Saviour said: 'They were distressed and scattered as sheep not having a shepherd.' Most noble boyars! Let us henceforth live in peace, loving one another like brothers, for this is one of the ten commandments: 'Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,' and let us pardon one another, seeing that we are mortal, beseeching our Lord Jesus Christ"--here he made the sign of the cross--"to forgive us our daily trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us."
Having finished this disjointed speech, he passed to the centre of the church, and after prostrating himself once more turned towards the people in front, and to the right and to the left of him, saying:
"Pardon me, good people, and you also, most noble boyars!"
"May God forgive you, your Highness!" they all replied, except two young boyars who were standing lost in thought, hidden by a tomb near the door, where no one paid heed to them.
Lapushneanu left the church, bidding the boyars come and dine together with him; he mounted his horse and returned to the palace.
The people dispersed.
"What do you think of it?" said one of the boyars, who, we have seen, did not extend his pardon to Alexandru Voda.
"I advise you not to dine with him to-day," replied the other.
And they mixed with the crowd. They were Spancioc and Stroici.
At the court great preparations had been made for this feast. The news had spread that the Prince had made his peace with the boyars, and the boyars rejoiced at the change, in the hopes they would once more occupy positions whence they could amass fresh wealth at the expense of the sweating peasants. As to the people, they were indifferent; they neither expected good nor feared evil from this reconciliation. The people were reconciled to the rule of Alexandru Voda. They only grumbled about his Minister, Motzoc, who took advantage of his credit with the Prince to cheat the mass of the people. Thus, although the complaints of the community were continual about the thefts of Motzoc, Lapushneanu either would not answer them or would not listen to them.
As the hour of the feast drew near, the boyars arrived on horseback, each accompanied by two or three retainers. They noticed that the courtyard was full of armed mercenaries and that four guns were trained upon the doors, but they concluded they were placed there to fire the usual ceremonial salute. Perhaps one or two suspected a trap, but once inside it was impossible to return, for the gates were guarded and the sentries had orders to let no one pass out.
Lapushneanu joined the boyars, forty-seven in number, and placed himself at the head of the table, placing the Chancellor, Trotushan, upon his right, and Home Secretary, Motzoc, upon his left. The pipes began to play, and the viands were placed upon the table.
In Moldavia at that period there was nothing remarkable in the fashion of the food. The banquet only comprised a few varieties of dishes. After the Polish soup came Greek dishes of boiled vegetables floating in butter, then Turkish rice and finally a roast. The table-cloth was of home-spun linen. The dishes containing the food, the plates and the goblets, were of silver. Along the wall stood a row of earthenware jars full of wine from Odobeshti and from Cotnari, and at the back of each boyar waited some servant who poured out the wine.
In the courtyard by the side of two roast oxen and four roast sheep, three casks of wine had been broached; the retainers ate and drank, the boyars ate and drank. Soon brains began to get inflamed: the wine began to do its work. The boyars saluted, and congratulated the Prince with loud applause, to which the mercenaries responded with shouts and the guns with salvos.
They were on the point of rising from the table when Veveritza raised his glass, and bowing, said:
"May your Highness live for many years! May you rule the land in peace and may a merciful God strengthen the desire you have shown to no longer molest the boyars or afflict the people----"
He did not finish for the dagger of an esquire struck him right on the forehead and felled him to the ground.
"Ah, you would insult your Prince!" cried the esquire. "Upon them!"