Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  “I know it will be hard for people of noble birth to do this; but I must warn you, that if you refuse no one knows what you may expect, — perhaps the executioner’s sword.”

  The faces of Macko and Zbyszko became like stone. There was silence.

  “What then?” asked Powala.

  Zbyszko answered quietly and with great dignity as though during this conversation he had grown twenty years older:

  “Well, God’s might is over all!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, that even if I had two heads and the executioner was going to cut off both, still I have only one honor which I will not stain.”

  Powala became grave and turning toward Macko, asked:

  “And what do you say?”

  “I say,” answered Macko gloomily, “that I reared this youth from childhood. On him depends our family, because I am old; but he cannot do what the German asks, even if he must perish.”

  Here his grim face began to quiver and finally his love for his nephew burst forth with such strength, that he seized the boy in his arms, and began to shout:

  “Zbyszku! Zbyszku!”

  The young knight was surprised and having returned his uncle’s embrace, said:

  “Aj! I did not know that you loved me so much.”

  “I see that you are both true knights,” said Powala; “and as the young man has promised me upon his knightly honor, that he will appear at the court, I will not imprison him; one can trust such people as you. No more gloomy thoughts! The German intends to stay in Tyniec a day or two; therefore I will have an opportunity to see the king first, and I will try to tell him about this affair in such a way that his anger will not be aroused. I am glad I succeeded in breaking the spear in time, — great luck, I tell you!”

  But Zbyszko said:

  “Even if I had to lay down my life, I would like at least to have the satisfaction of breaking his bones.”

  “It surprises me that you who know how to defend your own honor, do not understand that you would thus disgrace our whole nation!” impatiently answered Powala.

  “I understand it very well,” said Zbyszko; “but I regret my disability just the same.”

  Powala turned toward Macko:

  “Do you know, sir, that if this lad succeeds in escaping the penalty for his offence, then you ought to put a cowl like a hawk’s on his head! Otherwise he will not die a natural death.”

  “He will escape if you, sir, will not say anything to the king about the occurrence.”

  “And what shall we do with the German? We cannot tie his tongue.”

  “That is true! That is true!”

  Talking thus, they went back toward the princess’ retinue. Powala’s servants followed them. From afar one could see amidst the Mazovian caps, the quivering peacock feathers of the Knight of the Cross and his bright helmet shining in the sun.

  “Strange is the nature of a Krzyzak,” said the knight of Taczew. “When a Krzyzak is in a tight place, he will be as forbearing as a Franciscan monk, as humble as a lamb and as sweet as honey; in fact, it would be difficult to find a better man. But let him feel power behind him; then nobody will be more arrogant and merciless. It is evident that God gave them stones for hearts. I have seen many different nations and I have often witnessed a true knight spare another who was weaker, saying to himself; ‘My fame will not increase if I trample this fallen foe.’ But at such a time a Krzyzak is implacable. Hold him by the throat, otherwise woe to you! Such a man is that envoy! He wanted not only an apology, but also your humiliation. But I am glad he failed.”

  “He can wait!” exclaimed Zbyszko.

  “Be careful not to show him that you are troubled, because then he would rejoice.”

  After these words they approached the retinue and joined the princess’ court. The envoy of the Krzyzaks, having noticed them, immediately assumed an expression of pride and disdain; but they ignored him. Zbyszko stood at Danusia’s side and began to tell her that from the hill one could see Krakow; at the same time Macko was telling one of the rybalts about the extraordinary strength of the Pan of Taczew, who had broken the spear in Zbyszko’s hand, as though it were a dry stem.

  “And why did he break it?” asked the rybalt.

  “Because the boy in fun attacked the German.”

  The rybalt, being a nobleman, did not consider such an attack a joke; but seeing that Macko spoke about it lightly, did not take it seriously either. The German was annoyed by such conduct. He glanced at Macko and Zbyszko. Finally be realized that they did not intend to dismount and that they did not propose to pay any attention to him. Then something like steel shone in his eyes, and he immediately began to bid the princess adieu.

  The Lord of Taczew could not abstain from deriding him and at the moment of departure he said to him:

  “Go without fear, brave knight. The country is quiet and nobody will attack you, except some careless child.”

  “Although the customs of this country are strange, I was seeking your company and not your protection,” answered Lichtenstein; “I expect to meet you again at the court and elsewhere.”

  In the last words a hidden menace rang; therefore Powala answered gravely:

  “If God will permit.”

  Having said this, he saluted and turned away; then he shrugged his shoulders and said in an undertone, but loud enough to be heard by those who were near:

  “Gaunt! I could lift you from the saddle with the point of my spear, and hold you in the air during three pater-nosters.”

  Then he began to talk with the princess with whom he was very well acquainted. Anna Danuta asked him what he was doing on the highway. He told her that the king had commanded him to keep order in the environs while there were so many wealthy guests going to Krakow. Then he told her about Zbyszko’s foolish conduct. But having concluded that there would be plenty of time to ask the princess to protect Zbyszko, he did not put any stress on the incident, not wishing to spoil the gaiety. The princess laughed at the boy, because he was so anxious to obtain the peacock tuft; the others, having learned about the breaking of the spear, admired the Lord of Taczew very much, especially as he did it with one hand only.

  And he, being a little vain, was pleased because they praised him. Finally he began to tell about some of the exploits which made his name famous; especially those he performed in Burgundia, at the court of Philip the Courageous. There one time, during a tournament, he seized an Ardenian knight, pulled him out of the saddle and threw him in the air, notwithstanding that the knight was in full armor. For that exploit, Philip the Courageous presented him with a gold chain and the queen gave him a velvet slipper, which he wore on his helmet.

  Upon hearing this, all were very much amazed, except Mikolaj of Dlugolas, who said:

  “In these effeminate times, there are not such strong men as there were when I was young. If a nobleman now happens to shatter a cuirass, to bend a crossbow without the aid of the crank, or to bend a cutlass between his fingers, he immediately considers himself a very strong man. But in times of yore, girls could do such deeds.”

  “I don’t deny that formerly there were stronger people,” answered Powala; “but even now there are some strong men. God did not stint me in strength, but I do not consider myself the strongest in this kingdom. Have you ever seen Zawisza of Garbow? He can surpass me.”

  “I have seen him. He has shoulders broad like a rampart.”

  “And Dobko of Olesnica? Once at the tournament given in Torun by the Knights of the Cross, he defeated twelve knights for his own and our nation’s glory.”

  “But our Mazur, Staszko Ciolek, was stronger, sir, than you or your Zawisza and Dobko. They say that he took a peg made from green wood in his hand and pressed the sap out of it.”

  “I can press the sap out myself,” said Zbyszko. And before anyone could ask him to prove it, he broke a branch which he pressed so strongly, that really the sap began to ooze from it.

  “Aj, Jesus!” exclaimed Ofka
of Jarzombkow; “don’t go to the war; it would be a pity if such an one should perish before his marriage.”

  “It would indeed be a pity!” replied Macko, suddenly becoming sorrowful.

  But Mikolaj of Dlugolas laughed as did also the princess. The others, however, praised Zbyszko’s strength, and as in those times might was appreciated more than any other quality, the young girls cried to Danusia: “Be glad!” She was glad although she could not then understand what benefit she would receive from that piece of compressed wood. Zbyszko having forgotten all about the Krzyzak now looked so proud, that Mikolaj of Dlugolas wishing to curb his pride, said:

  “There are better men than you; therefore do not be so proud of your strength. I did not see it, but my father was a witness of something more difficult which happened at the court of Charles, the Roman emperor. King Kazimierz went to pay him a visit and with him went many courtiers. Among these courtiers was Staszko Ciolek, son of Wojewoda Andrzej, who was noted for his strength. The emperor began to boast that he had a Czech who could strangle a bear. They had an exhibition and the Czech strangled two bears in succession. Our king not wishing to be outdone, said: ‘But he cannot overcome my Ciolek.’ They agreed that they should fight in three days’ time. Many ladies and famous knights came, and the Czech and Ciolek grappled in the yard of the castle; but the contest did not last long; hardly had they come together before Ciolek broke the backbone of the Czech, crushed all his ribs, and left him dead to the great glory of the king. They have called him since then Lomignat. Once he placed without help, a bell which twelve men could not move from its place.”

  “How old was he?” asked Zbyszko.

  “He was young!”

  In the meantime, Powala of Taczew, while riding at the princess’ right hand, bent toward her and told her the truth about the importance of Zbyszko’s adventure, and asked her to speak to the king in Zbyszko’s behalf. The princess being fond of Zbyszko, received this news with sadness and became very uneasy.

  “The Bishop of Krakow is a friend of mine,” said Powala; “I will ask him and also the queen to intercede; but the more protectors he has, the better it will be for the lad.”

  “If the queen will promise to say one word in his favor, not a hair will fall from his head,” said Anna Danuta; “the king worships her for her piety and for her dowry, and especially now, when the shame of sterility has been taken from her. But the king’s beloved sister, Princess Ziemowit lives in Krakow; you must go to her. For my part I will do anything I can; but the princess is his own sister, and I am only his first cousin.”

  “The king loves you also, gracious lady.”

  “Ej, but not as much,” she answered with a certain sadness; “for me a link, for her a whole chain; for me a fox skin, for her a sable. He loves none of his relations as dearly as he loves Alexandra.”

  Thus talking, they approached Krakow. The highway which was crowded on the road from Tyniec, was still more crowded here. They met countrymen going with their servants to the city, sometimes armed and sometimes in summer clothing and straw hats. Some of them were on horseback; some traveled in carriages, with their wives and daughters, who wished to see the long looked for tournaments. In some places the whole road was crowded with merchants’ wagons which could not pass Krakow until the toll was paid. They carried in these wagons wax, grain, salt, fish, skins, hemp and wood. Others came from the city loaded with cloth, barrels of beer and different merchandise. One could now see Krakow very well; the king’s gardens, lords’ and burghers’ houses surrounded the city; beyond them were the walls and the towers of the churches. The nearer they came to the city the greater was the traffic and at the gates it was almost impossible to pass.

  “What a city! There is no other like it in the world,” said Macko.

  “It is always like a fair,” answered one of the rybalts; “how long since you were here, sir?”

  “A very long time ago. I wonder at it just as much as if I saw it now for the first time, because we are returning from a wild country.”

  “They say that Krakow has grown very much since the time of King Jagiello.”

  This was true; after the grand duke of Litwa ascended the throne, enormous Lithuanian and Russian countries were opened for commerce; because of this the city had increased in population, richness and buildings, and had become one of the most important cities in the world.

  “The cities of the Knights of the Cross are very beautiful also,” said the larger rybalt.

  “If only we could capture one of them,” said Macko. “Worthy booty we could get!”

  But Powala of Taczew was thinking about something else; namely, of Zbyszko, who was in peril because of his stupid blind fury. The Pan of Taczew, fierce and implacable in the time of war, had in his powerful breast, however, the heart of a dove; he realized better than the others what punishment awaited the offender; therefore he pitied him.

  “I ponder and ponder,” said he again to the princess, “whether to tell the king of the incident or not. If the Krzyzak does not complain, there will be no case; but if he should complain, perhaps it would be better to tell the king everything beforehand, so that he will not become angry.”

  “If the Krzyzak has an opportunity to ruin somebody, he will do it,” answered the princess; “but I will tell that young man to join our court. Perhaps the king will be more lenient to one of our courtiers.”

  She called Zbyszko, who having had his position explained to him, jumped from his horse, kissed her hands and became with the greatest pleasure one of her courtiers, not so much for greater safety, as because he could now remain nearer Danusia.

  Powala asked Macko:

  “Where will you stay?”

  “In an inn.”

  “There is no room in any inn now.”

  “Then we will go to merchant Amylej, he is an acquaintance of mine, perhaps he will let us pass the night in his house.”

  “Accept hospitality in my house. Your nephew can stay with the princess’ courtiers in the castle; but it will be better for him not to be near the king. What one does in the first paroxysm of anger, one would not do afterward. You will be more comfortable and safe with me.”

  Macko had become uneasy because Powala thought so much about their safety; he thanked Powala with gratitude and they entered the city. But here they both as well as Zbyszko forgot for a while about danger in the presence of the wonders they saw before them. In Lithuania and on the frontier, they had only seen single castles, and the only city of any importance which they knew was Wilno, a badly built and ruined town; but here many of the merchants’ houses were more magnificent than the grand duke’s palace in Lithuania. It is true that there were many wooden houses; but even these astonished them by the loftiness of their walls and roofs; also by the windows, made of glass balls, set in lead which so reflected the rays of the setting sun, that one would imagine that there was fire in the houses. In the streets near the market place, there were many highly ornamented houses of red brick, or of stone. They stood side by side like soldiers; some of them, broad; others, narrow; but all lofty with vaulted halls, very often having the sign of the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ or an image of the Most Holy Virgin over the door. There were some streets, on which one could see two rows of houses, over them a stripe of blue sky, between them, a road paved with stones; and on both sides as far as one could see stores and stores. These were full of the best foreign goods, at which being accustomed to war and the capture of booty, Macko looked with a longing eye. But both were still more astonished at the sight of the public buildings; the church of Panna Maryia on the square; the sukiennice; the city hall with its gigantic cellar, in which they were selling beer from Swidnica; other churches, depots of broadcloth, the enormous “mercatorium,” devoted to the use of foreign merchants; then a building in which were the public scales, bath houses, cooper works, wax works, silver works, gold works, breweries, the mountains of barrels round the so-called Schrotamto, — in a word, riches which a man not fam
iliar with the city, even though a well-to-do possessor of a grodek, could not even imagine.

  Powala conducted Macko and Zbyszko to his house situated on Saint Anna Street, assigned a large room to them, recommended them to his shield-bearers, and then went to the castle, from which he returned for supper quite late at night.

  A few friends accompanied him, and they enjoyed the plentiful repast of wine and meat. The host alone was sorrowful. When finally the guests departed, he said to Macko:

  “I spoke to a canon, able in writing and in the law, who says, that an insult to an envoy is a capital offence. Therefore pray God, that the Krzyzak may not complain.”

  Hearing this, both knights, who, during the feast had exceeded the other guests in mirth, retired with sorrowful hearts. Macko could not even sleep and after a while when they were in bed, he said to his nephew:

  “Zbyszku?”

  “What?”

  “I have considered everything and I do not think they will execute you.”

  “You do not think so?” asked Zbyszko, in a sleepy voice.

  Having turned toward the wall, he fell sound asleep, because he was very weary.

  The next day, both wlodykas of Bogdaniec, went with Powala to morning mass in the cathedral, for devotion and also to see the court and the guests who had arrived at the castle. In fact, on the way Powala met many acquaintances, and among them several knights famous at home and abroad. At these Zbyszko looked with admiration, promising himself that if he escaped death for the insult to Lichtenstein, he would try to rival them in gallantry and in all knightly virtues. One of these knights, Toporczyk, a relative of the castellan of Krakow, told them that Wojciech Jastrzembiec had returned from Rome, where he had been sent to Pope Bonifacius IX. with the king’s invitation to the christening at Krakow. Bonifacius accepted the invitation; and although it was doubtful whether he would be able to come personally, he authorized the envoy to stand godfather for the coming child in his name; and he asked that the name Bonifacius or Bonifacia be given to the child as a proof of his particular love for the king and the queen.