"How came you here, Lanyi ?" he asked.
"Diurbanu had me locked up--the devil take him!" "What grudge had he against you ?" "He ordered me to play to him while he sat at dinner," explained the gipsy; "but I told him I wouldn't do it." "Why not ?" "Because I won't make music for my country's enemies." His country, poor fellow! What share had he in that country beyond the right to tramp the public highway, and make himself a mud hut for shelter?
"Then he gave me a cuff," continued the gipsy, "had me shut up here, and promised to hang me.

Well, he may break me on the wheel, for aught I care, but I won't play for him even if he smashes my fiddle for refusing." "Well, don't be down-hearted, my little man," said Manasseh, cheerily.
"I'm not a bit down-hearted," declared the other.

"I only thought I'd ask you not to throw away your cigar-stump when you've finished smoking.
You can walk, your feet are free; come here when you are through with your cigar, and let it fall into my mouth, so that I can chew it." "But you'll find it a hot mouthful." "So much the better." This cynical gipsy phlegm exactly suited Manasseh's mood, and he exerted himself to cheer the poor fellow up, promising to secure his release as soon as he himself should gain an audience with Diurbanu.
"But you won't get out of here yourself in a hurry," returned the gipsy.
"Once in Diurbanu's hands, you might as well be in the hangman's.
Already he has put to death seven envoys who came to treat for peace, and they were only St.George peasants.

So what will he do to you who are an Adorjan and wear a seal ring?
But you've a breathing-spell yet.
The others served him as a little relish before dinner; you are to be kept for dessert.

One drinks a glass of spirits at a gulp, but black coffee is to be sipped and enjoyed.