208 HANDEL
Urbs nova, dives opum, Dantiscum sive Gedanum.
Accipe, divina quae tibi mente loquor!
Est breve tempus adhuc: si non peccata relinques
Hoc quibus exundas tempore, fracta rues.
Crevisti cito, sic etiam superis male grata
Decresces; instant iam tua fata tibi.
Impietas, fastus, luxus, tria monstra, ruinam
Iam tibi, ni fuerint prorsus abacta, parant.. .*
Yet time brought little improvement. In 1663, a French tourist called Payen,
from Meaux-sur-Marne, described the scene in a Danzig wine-cellar where he
was befriended by a Polish nobleman who had just succeeded in selling his corn:
We were on the point of leaving, when a man some six feet tall came in. He had a clean-
shaven face, and eyes set in deep folds and wrinkles. It was a Polish nobleman in the com-
pany of some fifteen retainers... As soon as he saw us, he came over with a declaration of
friendship, shaking our hands, and pressing us to accept his expressions of respect and
chivalry ... "We had to resort to Latin ... He said he was ill, and that he had been look-
ing for two weeks for someone who might confirm his belief that debauchery was a bet-
ter cure than dieting... After we had consumed some fifteen or sixteen tumblers, my
colleague offered him his pipe ... But he, not being familiar with tobacco, thrust the bowl
into his mouth, drawing the full draught of burning smoke straight into his stomach.
... He said that tobacco should be drunk not blown into the air and wasted ... Suddenly,
he rushed from the table and seizing a lighted candelabra started to bang his head on the
wall and to writhe on the floor. He was foaming at the mouth like a bull, and looked as
if the fury would kill him... But then a little vomiting made him more presentable...
Next he staggered blindly in my direction, smothered me with passionate kisses, and
announced that he would give me one of his daughters, together with ten thousand
pounds and two hundred serfs... In honour of the forthcoming marriage, we drank toast
after toast... Then I look, and he is stretched out on his back once more, but calling for
wine and urging us to drink to the confusion of the Turk and the ruin of the Ottoman
Empire ... By now, he had assured me I was really a Pole, and that I ought to dress like
one. Starting with his crimson cloak fastened with sculpted silver pins, he began to strip,
and to dress me up from head to foot in his own clothes. Unbuckling his sabre, he ordered
me to kiss it and fastened it to my side, declaring that Poland owed all her Freedom to it... Meanwhile, I was desperately planning my escape...^11
What a wonderful place Danzig must have appeared to the country visitor! In
1600, with 50,000 inhabitants, it was five times larger than the royal capital in
Warsaw and more than three times as large as Cracow or Poznan. It was a
republic within the Republic. Under the privileges initiated by Kazimierz
Jagiellonczyk and extended by Batory, it enjoyed self-government. It raised its
own finances, and minted its own currency. It had its own militia, expert in siege* New City, Rich Town, Danzig alias Gedanum./Accept the prophecy which I am fain to tell
you!/The time hereto is brief: if you abandon not the sins/with which at present you abound,
you will be dashed in pieces./You have increased quickly, so too/will you decline. Your Fates
are at hand./Impiety, Pride, Luxury, Triple Portents, already prove your ruin/unless they be
cast aside.. .l0