Horea Page #6

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which represents public good and

public freedom is endangered,

the people may and have the right

to change the old governing and

set a new one.

The doctrine of submission to an

arbitrary government

is absurd and menial.

The riot is subsequently legitimate

everywhere power is not directly given

by the people,

everywhere the purpose of government

does not represent

the general good of society, but the

good of one man or few people.

Subject for centuries to a cruel, blind

and stupid tyranny,

the noble Romanians wallowed in

misery until,

out of the very bosom of its

suffering, Horea emerged.

People tormented by every nation

joined him

and bishops and arms were

sent against rebels.

Clergy is always present in political

turmoil,

perhaps they know the

art of deceiving.

Brother Brissot doesn't know that the

low-ranked clergy

took part in the riot

with their congregation.

The people rebel only when

they are oppressed!

The people only demand justice,

and sovereigns, no matter how wise

they may want to seem,

through the very nature of their

power...

Taxes and chores in favor of nobles

tripled over the last few years.

We work for them for five days,

and when we go home the sixth day

to work for our benefit,

they won't leave us and they call for us

everywhere to no beginning and no end

in winter, spring, summer or fall.

And Your Grace should know that we

reap, we harvest,

we carry the crops, but not for us.

We hand over everything,

butter, meat, fowl and eggs, fish, nuts,

our rags we give for their paper mills,

so that nobles may read.

We can't read, you Grace, but only few

of us, such as myself, Ursu Necula,

who was sent to you for this reason by

the people.

And it is not only the nobles who

oppress us, but their servants as well,

who torture us worse than

the nobles.

Those who rise and forget their origins

are worse than the nobles,

because they are even more greedy.

There are no laws but their

whims and desires.

Laws go according to them but the

hardest of all is the mockery,

for we feed tax collectors as well,

the investigators who torture us, those

who beat us.

Then, what is left for us, Your Grace?

Shall we perish, shall we perish from

our lands or... Or?

- Or...

- Or...

Do it!

In order to eliminate the rumors that

the rebel leaders have not been

apprehended

or enjoy special privileges in captivity,

they will be dragged in chains to the

places of their crimes, heavily guarded.

Poor horses!

They looked for you the other

day as well.

How much longer will you live in the

wilderness?

In the wilderness, as you call it,

I don't know how long.

But I will be a slave no longer.

How do you think you can set him free

on your own?

He is in chains,

people are frightened,

by the emperor's orders,

men hang each day in each village,

they are wheeled.

How am I supposed to let him be

tortured?

How can I leave him to be

mocked?

Here. Food for the road.

What are you doing, Irina?

You were kind to me and

we were happy together.

Thank you.

How?

Then, may your hand be steady.

Well, lon, let us tend to our duty.

Father, don't be afraid. It's your

son, lonut.

Good evening, lon.

Father, I wanted to shoot you in the

heart, to spare you from torments.

Is that what you think of me, that I'm

frightened by torture?

I don't fear it, otherwise they wouldn't

have caught me alive.

As to death, when I had people rebel,

my son,

I made a deal with death as

well!

We owe death anyway.

But it matters how you die.

I reckon I have the strength to die like

this, so that the people I die for

may be forever ashamed to live with

with their heads down

in front of some lowlifes, in front of

some nobodies.

But are we going to do without you?

Keep to your life as the wolf keeps

to his prey.

Have many children, starve so may

send your children to schools,

so they may be more schooled than

the nobles' children.

And from time to time, tell them a

story about me as well, but not often.

Why not often, father?

So words may not grow cheap.

Are you crying? Are you crying, son?

Let this be the last time, hear me?

We are not allowed to cry.

I understand, father. I understand.

Question no 1. Name, age, occupation.

My name is Crisan, or Giurgiu Marcu,

52 years-old, humble servant.

Question no 2. Do you know why you are

here in chains?

I reckon that it's not for

picking flowers.

For ripping out nobles' souls!

Because I made people rebel so there

may be justice for us!

Who commanded the Mesteacan riot?

I did! Don't you know?

I didn't do it in secret!

We did nothing in secret!

The nobles won't forget this

for a long time!

Their children's children

will remember!

Do you know that not even the emperor

can stand them?

I know, but for other reasons.

Was Horea present at the

Mesteacan riot?

How could we do anything without him,

without out leader?

I said he should be unchained.

Excellency, I cannot take the

responsibility...

Take them off!

Thank you, Excellency.

Good evening, Horea.

Good evening to you too, sir.

I kindly ask you to let me rest

by your arm.

I have no strength left.

I'm dying, I have cancer.

We are all mortals.

But you and myself are closer to

death than others.

Sit there in front of me,

if you'd be so kind.

And in front of him.

Thank you, sir.

You confessed nothing to

the commission.

And you thought I'd confess

to food and drink.

No, I didn't call you here to confess.

I know, I know, you called me to

treat me kind.

Take anything you want,

anything you like.

I'll ask you to forgive me.

It is not virtue that makes me

abstemious, but weakness.

I mean, the doctors... I would very much

like a glass of that wine.

If you're dying, why not drink then?

I trust you're not worried that I

might try to poison you.

You are not that kind!

What to drink to now, sir?

Health, long life?

Here's to an easy death!

It has been ruled that you'll wheeled

for your deeds,

that is, you'll have your

legs and arms broken...

Everyone dies in some way, sir...

Then your body will be ripped in four

and scattered in four corners

of the country.

I will have a large tomb then, as big

as the entire country of Ardeal.

Pour me some wine.

Palida mors eque pulsat...

Do you know what this means?

'Pale death knocks on the door

of poor and kings alike.'

It isn't true, sir.

And then do you know what they did?

They sent two landowners,

one from Cris valley and one from

Brad,

together with some soldiers,

to capture Horea.

How could they think of

something like that?

That was their final thought. I drove

them into the ground!

lmagine they wanted Horea!

Justice isn't gained through

pillage and murders?

But haven't the nobles pillaged

us as well?

For hundreds and hundreds of years!

That is our country from our ancestors,

it's out land, reaped with sweat and

blood, work, honesty, pride!

And for all that, tell me, for I know

you counted them,

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