“In the name of , who in response to my prayers has saved your life,
who created you out of the dust and the ashes, who tore you from the
embrace of death and restored health to your shattered body for one
sole purpose, in Ins name I charge you: Find my enemy out and put him to
death. He is still a young man. He will scarcely be an old man when you
have become of age. It is a long time to wait, a long time to defer my
vengeance, one-and-twenty years, but so I believe has willed it. After
you have reached the age of one-and-twenty years, let that be the single
motive and object of your days: to find him out and put him to death by
the most painful mode of death you can devise. Do not strike him down
with one blow. Torture him to death. Pluck his flesh from his bones
shred by shred. Prolong his agony to the utmost. Thus shall you
compensate in some measure for the one-and-twenty years of delay. And
again and again as he is writhing under your heel, cry out to him,
‘Remember, remember the friend who loved you and whom you betrayed,
whose honey you turned to gall and wormwood.’ But, if meanwhile from
other causes death should have overtaken him, then shall you transfer
your anger to his next-of-kin; then, I charge you, visit the penalty
of his sin upon his children and his children’s children. For has not
decreed that the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the children
even unto the third and fourth generations? The blood of Nicholas must
be spilled, whether it courses in his veins or in the veins of his
posterity. The race of Nicholas must be exterminated, obliterated from
the face of the earth. As you honor the wish of a dying father, as you
dread the wrath of , falter not in this that I command. Search the four
corners of the world until you have unearthed my enemy or his kindred.
Empty his blood upon the sand as you would the blood of swine. And
think, as he is calling out to you for mercy, think, ‘At last my
father’s revenge is wreaked! At last my father’s spirit can rest
content. Even now my father is in transports of delight as he witnesses
this fruition of his hope. At each thrust of my knife into our enemy’s
flesh, the heart of my father leaps with satisfaction. At each scream
of pain that escapes from our enemy’s throat, the voice of my father
waxes great with joy.’
“Ah, my son, at that mighty hour, whether I be confined in the bottom
fastnesses of hell or exalted to the mountain tops of paradise, I shall
know what is happening, I shall fling myself upon my face and sing a
song of praise to for the unspeakable rapture which he has permitted me
to enjoy.
“My son, I trust you. You will not falter. You will remember that has
saved you from death for this solitary purpose, that you have no right
to your own life except as you employ it for the chastisement of my foe.
I have no fear. You will hate him with a hatred equal to my own. You
will wreak that hatred as I should have wreaked it, had my life been
spared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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