On the Field of Glory. Генрик Сенкевич
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Название: On the Field of Glory

Автор: Генрик Сенкевич

Издательство: Public Domain

Жанр: Зарубежная классика

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СКАЧАТЬ death in such numbers that their blood would form a large river, and still they are coming."

      These words had truth in them. The Commonwealth, rent by disorder and unruliness, could not have strong armies sufficient to end in one mighty struggle the Tartar-Turk avalanche. For that matter, all Europe could not command such an army. Still, the Commonwealth was inhabited by men of great daring, who would not yield their throats willingly to the knife of the eastern attacker. On the contrary, to that terrible region bristling with grave-mounds, and reeking with blood at the borders, Red Russia, Podolia, and the Ukraine, new waves of Polish settlers followed each after the other; these not only stirred up fertile lands, but their own craving for endless wars, battles, and adventures.

      "The Poles," wrote an old chronicler, "go to Russia for skirmishes with Tartars."1

      So from Mazovia went peasants; daring nobles went also, for each one of whom it was shameful "to die in his bed like a peasant." And there grew up in those red lands mighty magnates, who, not satisfied with action even there, went frequently much farther-to Wallachia, or the Crimea, seeking victory, power, death, salvation, and glory.

      It was even said that the Poles did not wish one great war that would end the whole question. Though this was not true, still, continual disturbance was dear to that daring generation-but the invader on his part paid with blood dearly for his venture.

      Neither the Dobrudja nor Belgorod lands, nor the Crimean reed barrens could support their wild Tartar denizens, hence hunger drove them to the border where rich booty was waiting, but death was waiting also, very often.

      The flames of fire lighted up invasions unknown yet to history. Single regiments cut into bits with their sabres and trampled into dust under horsehoofs detachments surpassing them tenfold in number. Only swiftness beyond reckoning could save the invaders; in general when a Tartar band was overtaken by troops of the Commonwealth it was lost beyond rescue.

      There were expeditions, especially the smaller ones, from which not one man went back to the Crimea. Terrible in their time both to Turks and to Tartars were Pretvits and Hmieletski; knights of less note, Volodyovski, Pelka, and the elder Rushits, wrote their names down with blood in men's memories. These for some years, or some tens of years, at that time, were resting in their graves and in glory; but even of the mighty ones none had drawn so much blood from the followers of Islam as the king reigning then, Yan Sobieski.

      At Podhaitsi, Kalush, Hotsim, and Lvoff there were lying till that time unburied such piles of pagan bones that broad fields beneath them were as white as if snow-covered. At last on all hordes there was terror. The borders drew breath then, and when the insatiable Turk began to seek lighter conquests the whole tortured Commonwealth breathed with more freedom.

      There remained only painful remembrances.

      Far away from Pan Serafin's dwelling, and next to the castle of Pomorani, stood a tall cross on a hill, and two lances upon it. Twenty and some years before that Pan Gideon had placed this cross on the site of his fire-consumed mansion, hence, as he thought of that cross and of all those lives dear to him which had been lost in that region, the heart whined in the old man from anguish.

      But since he was stern to himself and to others, and would not shed tears before strangers, and could not endure paltry pity from any man, he would not speak longer of his misfortunes, and fell to inquiring of his host how he lived in that forest inheritance.

      "Here," said Pan Serafin, "is stillness, oh, stillness! When the forest is not sounding, and the wolves are not howling, thou canst almost hear snow fall. There is calmness, there is fire in the chimney and a pitcher of heated wine in the evening-old age needs nothing further."

      "True. But your son?"

      "A young bird leaves the nest sometimes. And here certain trees whisper that a great war with the pagan is approaching."

      "To that war even gray falcons will hasten. Were it not for this, I should fly with the others."

      Here Pan Gideon shook his coat sleeve, in which there was only a bit of his arm near the shoulder.

      And Pan Serafin poured out heated wine to him.

      "To the success of Christian weapons!"

      "God grant it! Drink to the bottom."

      Stanislav entertained at the same time Pani Vinnitski, Panna Anulka, and the four Bukoyemskis with a pitcher of wine which steamed quite as actively as the other. The ladies touched the glasses however with their lips very sparingly, but the Bukoyemskis needed no urging, hence the world seemed to them more joyous each moment, and Panna Anulka more beautiful, so, unable to find words to express their delight, they began to look at one another with amazement and panting; then each nudged another with his elbow. Mateush at last found expression, -

      "We are not to wonder that the wolves wished to try the bones and the body of this lady, for even a wild beast knows a real tid-bit!"

      Marek, Lukash, and Yan, the three remaining Bukoyemskis slapped their thighs then in ecstasy.

      "He has hit the nail on the head, he has! A tid-bit! Nothing short of it!"

      "A Saint Martin's cake!"

      On hearing this Panna Anulka laid one hand on the other, and, feigning terror, said to Stanislav, -

      "Oh, help me, for I see that these gentlemen only saved me from the wolves to eat me themselves."

      "Gracious maiden," said Stanislav, joyfully, "Pan Mateush said that we were not to wonder at the wolves, but I say I do not wonder at the Bukoyemskis."

      "What shall I do then, except to ask who will save me?"

      "Trifle not with sacred subjects!" cried Pani Vinnitski.

      "Well, but these gentlemen are ready to eat me and also auntie. Are they not?"

      This question remained for some time without answer. Moreover, it was easy to note from the faces of the brothers that they had much less desire for the additional eating. But Lukash, who had quicker wit than his brothers, now added, "Let Mateush speak; he is the eldest."

      Mateush was somewhat bothered, and answered, "Who knows what will meet him to-morrow?"

      "A good remark," said Stanislav, "but to what do you apply it?"

      "How to what?"

      "Why, nothing. I only ask, why mention to-morrow?"

      "But knowest thou that love is worse than a wolf, for a man may kill a wolf, but to kill love is beyond him."

      "I know, but that again is another question."

      "But if there be wit enough, a question is nothing."

      "In that case may God give us wit."

      Panna Anulka hid her laughter behind her palm; after her laughed Stanislav, and then the Bukoyemskis. Further word-play was stopped by a servant announcing the supper.

      Pan Serafin gave his arm to Pani Vinnitski; after them went Pan Gideon; Stanislav conducted Panna Anulka.

      "A dispute with Pan Bukoyemski is difficult," said the young lady, made gladsome.

      "For his reasons are like wilful horses, each goes its own way; but he has told two truths which are hard of denial."

      "What СКАЧАТЬ



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